*Hey true believers! Good news! I have finally figured out two or three plotpoints that were really pinning me under a bus, so I know exactly what's going to happen from here on out (sort of). Anyway, today's chapter is the broken coffee table saga and features a proper fight, which was hilarious to write, I hope you like it. As ever, thank you so so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited! You guys are the best. Keep on letting me know your thoughts and I'll see you guys tomorrow. TPD*
Clara was thundering around, desperately looking for mascara or some nonsense like that. The Doctor returned to his work, trying hard to ignore the adorable curses or heart-warming screams of agitation that his fiancée emitted when she was frustrated. He scratched his head at a particular problem with the exhaust valve of the engine that he was designing, inspiration far from hard hitting. Then, she tumbled into his office, cursing and spluttering. He glanced at his watch, it was just gone 8.
"You'd better get going Soufflé Girl," he said without looking up. "You're going to be late."
"Well aware!" Clara shouted back. "But my hair is still a mess and I can't find my mascara."
"It's pissing it down," the Doctor replied carelessly. "Your hair and makeup will look horrific however hard you try, you might as well give up now and try to make it on time."
In retrospect, he would be able to pinpoint exactly three places where he earned the slap to the back of the head that followed his comment. He snaked an arm around Clara and pulled her into a gentle kiss, earning him a gentle massage of the area she'd whacked.
"Sorry," she said gently, kissing it better. "I love you."
"I love you too," he replied with a smile. "Go get them Miss Oswald!"
"Don't forget, Vastra and Jenny are coming over at 2, you don't want to put music in and leave them out in the pouring rain for another hour!" Clara laughed. "Especially as you need to get that marriage counselling number for the Ponds off Vastra. She won't be inclined to help you out if you let the sky piss all over her day. Also, don't cook dinner for me; I'm meeting Annabelle after work. She called me last night in a right mess; I couldn't make out half the words."
"You really don't think much of my memory do you?" he frowned and Clara raised an eyebrow. "Of course I remember you're meeting Annabelle and I've got the girls."
"You were asleep when Annabelle called," she pointed out and the Doctor's mouth opened and closed again as he tried to think of a witty retort. He was about to resort to shut up when she leaned forward and kissed him lightly, before rushing out the office, shouting goodbye as she took the stairs two at a time to make it out the front door in seconds and then the Doctor was alone with only the hum of his laptop penetrating the silence that fell. He always hated this moment. The moment right after Clara had left and he felt truly alone in the universe, even though he knew in his heart of hearts that she would come back.
The Doctor worked all morning, barely leaving himself time for a sandwich. He eventually made something to keep himself going, the coffee machine in his office working overtime as he more and more became one with his chair. He straightened his bow tie around noon, after catching his reflection. He thought about texting Clara, but she would be in class for another hour or so, so he didn't bother. There was a time where he was so desperate to speak to her that he would text her every second of every day and damn the consequences. But then she had grown up and he had been forced into adulthood with her, kicking and screaming. He saw her every morning and every evening, they slept together every night and woke up together every morning. They often met for lunch and texted every day. He could wait the hour until her lunch break. The childish impatience in him was being stifled. He was content though. He trusted Clara completely, she didn't need him badgering her and checking up on her.
Just as the Doctor managed to push all thoughts of Clara from his mind, his phone buzzed and she had texted him. He smiled at the thought and flipped open his phone, laughing at his fiancée's words.
Set the kids a DVD to watch. Thought I'd check in on my brainiac. I'm marking test papers and just seeing your words light up on a phone is infinitely more attractive a prospect. I love you (duh) xxx
The Doctor thumbed a quick reply, explaining that temporal dynamics were giving him a headache and he'd give anything to be with her, watching the movie with a bunch of thirteen year olds. His phone buzzed almost immediately. Sure enough, the next two hours or so was the least productive period of his day, as Clara interrupted his thought process every thirty seconds or so. He didn't mind, he would catch up. He loved that she thought of him, the way that he always thought about her.
Luckily for him, the ending of Clara's lunch hour, which was right after her film hour, coincided with when he had to go onto radio silence as well, for Vastra and Jenny had come a knocking. Strax sometimes joined them and sometimes worked on his own thing, it didn't really bother the Doctor either way. Today, however, Jenny was alone and she stalked into the house, as if she wanted to be anywhere else. The Doctor opened his mouth to say something but she shot him a look that silenced him instantly. He could tell that she had been crying and her hair was escaping the tight knot that it was customarily wound up in.
"Not in the mood!" she said quickly and the Doctor held up his hands in apology and defence. Jenny let out a heavy sigh and the Doctor invited her to sit down while he made her a coffee. "Vastra is ill," she stated and the Doctor nodded appreciatively. "I mean, we're not having more problems or anything. I wish we were," she added and then caught herself. "I'm sorry sir, this isn't professional."
"Jenny," the Doctor said, handing her the coffee. "You and Vastra know that you guys are always welcome to talk to me about anything. I consider you more than just colleagues. You two are friends and if Vastra is ill then I'm sorry that I didn't realise sooner. You should take the day off, I can get a replacement accountant for a few days."
"With respect," Jenny sniffed, accepting the coffee and gulping it down. "There's no accountant that you could hire that knows the figures as well as I do. I'm fine, really. Vastra will be fine, the hospital are hopeful for a full recovery…"
"Hospital?" the Doctor was on his feet now and Jenny winced. "Jenny, why didn't you say anything?"
"It's just appendicitis," Jenny waved it off. "She'll be out in a couple of days, I promise. I'm stressing myself out over it too much. I just…her appendix burst and I thought she was going to die and I sat in that hospital room crying and I didn't know who to call or what to do." Jenny was crying now. The Doctor's hands hovered awkwardly before eventually he put one around her in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "So I sat there alone, not knowing what I was going to do and then they told me that she'd be fine, completely fine and that there was no harm done. It was as if my whole world just started again, you know?"
"Yes," the Doctor said. "I do." He'd had the same experience, when he thought he'd lost Clara, when he found out that Tom had died. He'd thought it had been Clara who had died in the accident and for one horrible moment, his life was over. It was only when Annabelle had told him that Clara was fine that his heart had started beating again. "Better than anyone."
"Anyway," Jenny tried to behave as though nothing was bothering her, but the Doctor knew that she wasn't fine. Nevertheless, it would be good for her to take her mind off the inevitable ending of human life and the knowledge that everything we love has to die sometime. It would do Jenny no good to sit around at home moping, waiting for visiting hours to see Vastra. At least here, she could throw herself into work and ignore her pain for a few solid hours. "Last month's figures were promising, but there are still several areas for improvement. Strax highlighted a couple of areas where security needs upgrading, so that should set us back…"
After several hours of various, accountancy related discussions, the Doctor tried to prise Jenny for the number of her marriage counsellor. He then spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince her not to tell Vastra that she had given it to him. Jenny was the sort of woman who tried not to involve herself in other people's business and would never ask the Doctor questions about why he needed the number of a marriage counsellor. Her wife however, was the sort of woman who would ask the Doctor every question under the sun if she suspected for a millisecond that there was something going on to cause him and Clara problems. Vastra was more direct and abrupt than Jenny, but when she cared about someone, often this could be to their advantage. Nevertheless, the Doctor did not want to have to fend off questions about the stability of his and Clara's relationship. They weren't even married yet for crying out loud. In any case, the less people that knew about Amy and Rory's marriage problems the better and it was, in all honesty, absolutely none of Vastra's business. His relationship might be a concern for her, but the Ponds was not.
With Jenny on her way, the Doctor decided to call it a day and made himself some dinner, aware that Clara wouldn't be back for another hour or two, maybe even longer depending on how badly things went with Annabelle. If the blonde was in a real state, Clara could end up pulling an all-nighter. The Doctor was in no mood to be fancy, so went standard, fish fingers and custard. Clara would never approve of fish fingers and custard, nor would she ever eat it, so it had to be shelved for those evenings when he was eating alone. It was a delicacy, a treat that he alone enjoyed, on rare occasions, when Clara was nowhere to be seen. Amy sometimes indulged his passion for it, but even that was sparing and Clara always scolded her for letting him.
He was halfway through eating when someone pounded on his door. The Doctor frowned and dropped a half-eaten fish finger back into the bowl. He wasn't expecting guests and whoever was banging on the door sounded angry, such was the intensity with which they were hammering away. He grabbed a chair, slightly defensively and approached the door cautiously. He opened it quickly, brandishing the chair defensively. It was Ten. Relaxing, the Doctor sighed in relief and put the chair down.
"Ah thank God it's only you Ten," he chuckled. "I thought someone might be here to-"
The Doctor was interrupted as Ten punched him in the face. The Doctor stumbled back into the house and Ten strode inside, shaking his hand and grimacing in pain. He looked half apologetic, half apoplectic and the Doctor didn't need to ask to know exactly why his cousin was so furious. There was only one even remotely reasonable explanation and he waited for Ten to start talking.
"Is Clara here?" he asked, his voice cracking. The Doctor shook his head. "Good."
At this point, Ten hit him again and the Doctor groaned in pain as his head snapped back. He cricked his neck as Ten held his hand in agony, trying hard not to show the pain on his face.
"Can I borrow an ice pack?" he asked, holding up his hand and the Doctor gaped at him incredulously. "So I heard a rumour, from Jake. You remember Jake?" Ten growled. "My mate from university. He's been kicking about the place lately. Well we met for lunch and he asked me if I knew that Rose was back in town. And funnily enough, I did not know Rose was back in town. The question is Doctor, did you know Rose was back in town?"
"Rose is back in town?" the Doctor knew winding up his cousin was a bad idea but he was still annoyed about the two punches. He threw Ten an ice pack that he caught left handed and pressed to his hand as the Doctor pulled another ice pack out and pressed it to his flaming jaw, the pain rushing through him sharply pressed into focus. "I had no idea."
"That's funny," Ten said, dangerously close to losing it, the Doctor could tell. "That's really funny. Seeing as she's a dinner lady at Clara's fucking school! I wonder how the fuck she got that job. Any thoughts cousin? Any ideas? Any at all?"
"Maybe she just looks good in a hairnet?" the Doctor responded, in no mood to indulge Ten.
"Don't play dumb Doctor," Ten snapped. "It doesn't suit you. We both know that you know as well as I do that Rose is back and that she's working with Clara and that she's living with Annabelle. Oh don't look so shocked, when I heard she was back in town I did a little digging. You know how good with computers I am. You helped her set up a life here and you did it behind my back. We're cousins Doctor, you're the only family I have left and Clara is probably the closest thing I have to a best friend. How could the two of you do this to me?"
"Do what to you?" the Doctor responded, no longer playing dumb and taking the offensive. "I didn't do anything to you David, I did what I could to protect you. Rose was homeless Ten. She pitched up in London, penniless because of Mickey, looking for her mother so she could have somewhere to stay until she was back on her feet. But Jackie Tyler is dead Ten. Did you know that? Do you even care? Would you make me leave her on the streets to die? Would you ask me to ask Clara to do that? I share your reluctance to have anything to do with her but Clara Oswald is a better person than both of us and she insisted that we take Rose in and give her food and shelter. So yes, we got her a job and yes she's living with Annabelle, or would you rather that neither of them could ever afford the rent?" Ten was looking fairly ashamed now. "Should I have told you about this sooner? Yes. But did it hurt, you not knowing?"
"I had a right to know!" Ten shouted. "You should have just given her some money and sent her on her way, not kept her here, under my nose!"
"Not everything is about you!" the Doctor yelled in response. "For fuck's sake, you selfish, egotistical bastard, I wasn't about to throw her out on the streets with a fucking wad of cash was I you prick?"
"Why not?" he retorted. "Since when did you develop a conscience? Since when did doing things wrong bother you? This from the boy who killed his own parents but seems to feel no remorse for that whatsoever!"
The Doctor was so angry, he stopped thinking straight. He threw himself at his cousin, returning the favour for the punches Ten had thrown. Ten staggered back, but before he could recover, the Doctor rugby tackled him, and they crashed through the coffee table in the lounge, it splintering as the weight of the two men crunched down on top of it. The Doctor got a decent shot in before Ten rolled out of the way and the Doctor's fist found wood, causing him to curse in pain. Ten kicked the Doctor in the chest and the Doctor rolled to a standing position. He had taken so many kicks to the ribs that he was pretty sure every rib in his cage knew what it was like to be broken. He could handle that.
Ten was breathing heavily, but the Doctor wasn't done. He had let his anger consume him and he crashed into his cousin again, this time toppling the pair over, taking the sofa with them. It flipped over and they rolled with it, their sophisticated fight now little more than a brawl as they grappled, hurling insults at each other and trading face punches. Eventually, after far more hurtful words and hurtful fists than either of them were willing to admit, they rolled off of each other, inhaling deeply and groaning in pain. Ten was within reach of an ice pack and pressed it to his bloody face, letting out a small noise of pleasure as the freezing cold soothed his blows.
"I'm sorry," he said after an age. "That was completely uncalled for."
"What part?" the Doctor snapped. "The brawl or the comment about my parents? How the fuck did you find out anyway?"
"My parents told me," Ten replied quietly. "They found out what had happened, they always knew. So I always knew, even before I met you. I didn't want to say anything. I figured, if you were ever going to tell anyone…if you ever wanted me to know, then you would tell me. I didn't want to intrude. I assume the only other person that knows is Clara?"
"And the Master," the Doctor reminded him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my parents and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Rose."
"Don't be," Ten urged. "It was my fault. Why does it matter if she's here? I'm happy with Martha. I don't need to be thinking about her. I can just pretend that she doesn't even exist. You were right, there was absolutely no need for me to know. And you were right to help her. Whatever went down between Rose and me, you and Clara are good people, and it was wrong of me to ask you not to help someone who desperately needed it."
It took them a long time to pick themselves up and throw themselves, side by side, onto the sofa that hadn't been toppled, Ten utilising two ice packs, one either side of his face and the Doctor pressing the biggest bag of frozen peas he could find to his face, so that his entire face was covered by it. At this point, Clara walked in, surveying the carnage that was her living room and frowning at the two grown men who strongly resembled five year old children as they sat on the sofa, awaiting their scolding.
"Are you serious?" she asked, dropping her work bag to the floor and crossing her arms, her eyebrows shooting up as if she couldn't for the life of her believe what she was seeing. Ten squirmed like a child and the Doctor hid behind his peas. "David? Really? And you, stop hiding behind the peas, they're for dinner not for you to shield your bloody face."
"He started it!" they both shouted, pointing at each other, as the Doctor dropped his pea shield. Clara threw her hands up in frustration and let out a scream of anguish.
"I am not dealing with this!" she pointed her finger antagonistically at them. "You!" she pointed at the Doctor. "Clean up your face before you even think about getting into bed tonight! And before you ask: no, Annabelle is not even remotely fine and I do not want to talk about it. And you!" she pointed at Ten. "You owe me a new coffee table. And before you ask: Rose is absolutely fine thank you very much and I will tell your fiancée if you go within twenty feet of that house or my school."
"How did you…"
"What, you two just randomly decided to have a massive fight and trash the living room?" Clara asked incredulously. "I don't think so. So obviously, either this idiot told you about Rose or you found out on your own and came over here to deliberately trash my living room. Either way, I don't care anymore. I've had a lousy day, so for the love of God, sort it out between yourselves. I'm sick of having to mediate everything in everybody's life."
And before either of them could respond, Clara had stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door so loudly that the whole house shook. Ten and the Doctor shared a look. It was a look of apology and pity and so much more. And then, with no more words spoken, they hugged, like brothers, as opposed to cousins at war.
*And tomorrow: Someone ends up a hedge, there's some massaging and the return of Captain Jack Harkness in: The Jack Method!*