Last update on this story for the week, folks! I'll be back on the 21st/22nd to update this story! :)

Enjoy!

Pretend

"We're going to pretend that you're my wife!" were the first words that came out of the Doctor's mouth when Clara walked into the TARDIS. She stopped short, her lips parting in surprise. "Sorry, what?" She asked incredulously. The Doctor shrugged, flicking a few switches on the console.

"You heard me! How do you feel about Victorian Yorkshire?" he asked eagerly, a wide smile spread across his face. Clara frowned. "That's fine, I suppose – but…why am I supposed to pretend that I'm your wife again?"

"Because it's proper!" The Doctor replied, unfazed. He flashed another grin at Clara and said, "There's a wardrobe back in the halls – go find yourself a dress and get back out here!" With that, he turned back to the console, humming softly under his breath.

Still frowning, Clara slowly made her way around the console and headed out the hall. She supposed the TARDIS was feeling particularly merciful (or sympathetic) today, because it didn't take too long for her to locate the wardrobe. That is, if you could call it that – there were hangers and hangers carrying all sorts of dresses and outfits. Clara shook her head in wonder at it all – why hadn't she been here before?

It took some time for Clara to choose a proper dress – she was debating between a red and a burgundy, purple one when the Doctor poked his head into the room. "Are you done yet?" He asked impatiently.

Clara whirled around, heat rising to her face. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" She asked incredulously. "What if I was changing?"

The Doctor scratched his head in confusion. "But…you're not. So it's all fine!"

Clara rolled her eyes and turned back to the dresses. "I'll be out in a mo'." She replied and before the Doctor could leave, she added, "And don't you dare think about coming back here without knocking or I'll punch the lights out of you!"

"Feeling violent today, are we?" The Doctor asked, though he ducked out of the room.

Puffing out a sigh, Clara hurriedly put herself in the burgundy dress instead. She was always told that purple looked nice on her. She took a few moments to examine herself in a mirror and frowned, skeptical of her appearance. There was something missing…

"Hair!" Clara suddenly burst out and nodded to herself. Of course – she needed to have some sort of do that would make her blend in.

"Victorian, right?" She murmured and placed her hands in her hair, already thinking up of a particular hairstyle for this particular occasion. It took some time (and some swears) before Clara managed to have her hair cooperate into a somewhat frizzy, elegant bun. With a satisfied smile, Clara spun around in her dress and started to make her way out the door.

It wasn't too long before Clara found herself in the console room again. The Doctor immediately spun around to look at her, eyes widening in surprise. Several seconds of silence ticked by and finally, the Doctor managed a, "You look…different."

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?" She asked, hating the small twinge of disappointment that was poking at her voice. "I look different?"

The Doctor blinked and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a good different!" He said slowly. "Yes, a very good kind of different." He paused and shook his head frantically. "Not saying that you're not always looking good-different, but ah –"

Clara smiled, humored by the Doctor's flustered behavior. He really was rather adorable whenever he acted like that. (She wouldn't ever tell him that, though – his ego was already as big as it needed to be.) Clara tapped her fingers along the railing and said sweetly, "What was that about pretending to be your wife?"

The Doctor's cheeks turned into a delicate shade of pink. "Well – er – now that I think of it, you don't have to pretend to be my wife if you don't want to – that'd be strange, right? I should be your brother – or a family friend – or a –"

"Doctor," Clara interrupted in a sing-song voice. The Doctor, to her amusement, actually closed his mouth. She grinned and went on, "Pretending to be your wife is absolutely fine with me."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Really?" He asked dubiously.

Now it was Clara's turn to blush. She forced her eyes on the ceiling and rolled them in the most dramatic manner possible, hoping to distract the Doctor from thinking about how red her face was probably getting. "You obviously can't be my brother – I would have too much fun with bossing you around. And family friend?"

She lowered her eyes to the Doctor, forcing a grimace. "That just sounds like a big excuse to date me – in a totally fake way, of course."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "Ah…well, pretend married couple it is! What should we call ourselves? The Smiths?"

Clara shrugged. "That'll do," she replied with a casual smile. The Doctor drummed his fingers against the console and let out a loud, happy laugh. "Then here we go – the Smiths are coming to Yorkshire!"

A/N - Obviously, this took place right before the Crimson Horror. I don't know if the Doctor pretended that Clara was his wife when they were going into Sweetville or not, but...I liked to pretend that those two were always going to act as a married couple even before they knew that something was wrong in Yorkshire. :)

Reviews are always nice! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!