This prompt is actually a headcanon which my sister and I support with flying flags, and it seems quite fitting that it was she who requested the prompt.

THIS IS IMPORTANT: My sister (the one who helps me make up stories/poems/all that jazz) has an official account on this site! Her username is SimmonsButterflys, and she is writing and posting her own stuffez now.

In fact, she started posting a Wholock crossover that she and I made up together. It's called The Case of the Dying Detective, and I strongly suggest that you go read it and leave a review. Then go read her other stories while you're at it. :)

Welp, that's my biggest bit of news for you guys. Now, onto the prompt itself!

God bless and have a great day (or night)!
ThePro-LifeCatholic

ErinKenobi2893: I sent you a PM about your DW rut…I don't know if you saw it yet. Perhaps my suggestions gave you some inspiration; if not, then I hope by now you've managed to figure out how to escape your writer's block.

Yay! More regeneration fluff!

And don't feel offended about trampling my feelings with your prompts. Isn't that what angst is supposed to do? So you get points for getting that across to your readers! *thumbs up*

And thank you, thank you again for putting up with all my prompts and crazy fangirling over your one-shot ficlet.

JesuslovesMarina: Thank you for the great feedback (as always). I know! They're so similar. I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure out the parallels between those Doctor Who scenes!

Oh, yes; the 100th Anniversary of Doctor Who…in 12-D! All 57 Doctors, too, which is cool and brilliant and fantastic and all that great stuff.

QueenAnneTudor: Interesting prompt. I'll definitely see what I can do with it.

Writing Prompt #81: Stealth Mission

Characters: 11th Doctor, 12th Doctor, Clara Oswald

Shippings: None

Genre: Humor/Friendship

Rating: K

Prompted by: SimmonsButterflys

Summary: No matter what the Doctor says, Clara can never seem to come up with good fake titles. There's one that follows him like a curse, and it's quite possibly the worst undercover name that anyone could ever have in all of time and space.

There's an old Earth saying that goes along the lines of: "You don't make the same mistake twice". This is a saying that's full of wisdom, as well as truth. Once you know how a situation plays out, and what you need to do in order to improve and get it right the next time, the chances of you making the same slip-up the second (or third or hundredth) time around drop significantly.

Unless, for some reason, you happen to be Clara Oswald.

During one of Clara's and the Doctor's adventures…

The last time the Doctor and Clara had to go undercover at a hotel, his stressed companion had come up with the most ridiculous name in the whole of time and space for him: Archibald Wallace O'Halley*. However, that had only been once, and the Doctor was certain that she could improvise something better this time around.

To be perfectly fair, that had been one of Clara's first undercover missions in her entire life, so it was only natural for her to feel some pressure during the whole ordeal.

"Ready, Clara?" he whispered to the brunet standing next to him. She was clinging tightly to his arm and glancing at the life forms that surrounded them.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she murmured in response. "You know, other than the fact that someone in this building is an assassin in disguise who would probably kill us both if he knew who we were."

The Doctor grinned, not seeming to pay attention to the last part of Clara's answer. "Wonderful! Now, come on!" He pulled her along, weaving his way between groups of chattering aliens. It was only when he caught sight of a tall, female humanoid in a bright red dress that he came to an abrupt halt. Tapping on her shoulder, he bowed low and kissed her hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Matera," he said. The woman regarded him coolly.

"Miss Matera," she replied.

"Oh." The Doctor was somewhat flustered by her uninterested, contemptuous attitude, but soon shrugged it off. "I heard something about a runaway assassin," he whispered, leaning close to her ear.

Matera raised an eyebrow. "Yes; and you are?"

"Um…" the Doctor paused, looking towards his companion. "This is Miss Winfield…"

"…And he's Mr. O'Halley!" Clara broke in. Matera now had both eyebrows raised. The Doctor coughed and shuffled his feet.

"Yeees…Mr. O'Halley…" he breathed. Clara looked down at her shoes, hoping that no one could see that her face had turned as red as Ms. Matera's dress.

During another adventure…

"Now, Clara," the Doctor was saying, "I need to get into your school for just a minute or two, or possibly a day. Probably a day."

"A whole day?" Clara shook her head. "You'd have to be registered staff or something like that."

The Doctor grinned, pulling out the psychic paper and waving it in front of her. "I've got a school pass," he stated happily. Clara shook her head again, but couldn't help smiling. There were times when he acted just like a 5-year-old.

Later on in the day, Clara and the Doctor happened to run into the school principal.

"Hello, Clara," he said cordially, shaking her hand. "And who's this, then?"

"Oh, I'm part of the newest staff," the Doctor explained, adjusting his bowtie.

"Yeah, he is," Clara commented. "Archibald O'Halley; best there is when it comes to…janitors." She forced a wide smile, hoping the principal would buy into her lie. The Doctor glared at her out of the corner of his eye.

Yet another adventure…

"We would have the Doctor's head for what he's done," hissed the alien. It was a truly revolting thing, all forest-green and slimy, with bulging eyes and five tentacles. It slapped one of them against Clara's face, leaving a bit of alien gunk on her cheek. The brown-haired girl cringed, but couldn't run away, seeing as she was restrained by chains.

"You're making a big mistake!" she cried out, struggling against her bonds. "That's not the Doctor! You've got the wrong man!"

The alien tilted its head toward her, a flicker of confusion crossing its face. "If that'sss not the Doctor, then how is he, pray tell?"

Clara blinked, mouth open. For a single terrifying moment, she was caught in the headlights, mind blank. In the background, she could see her friend being dragged towards a vat of the green slime. According to the Doctor, that stuff was poisonous when too much was saturated by the skin. Her mind races as she tried to come up with a believable excuse.

"He's…uh…the Doctor's…twin…brother!" Clara stuttered. The aliens paused, still holding the struggling Doctor.

"Yeah, that's right," Clara continued, gaining confidence. "He's Archibald O'Halley…the Doctor's older twin brother!"

"Twin?!" the Doctor gawked.

Clara and the Doctor adventuring (still)…

"Hello," the Doctor said as couples began boarding the famous intergalactic Love Cruise, "Hope you enjoy your cruise! My assistant and I will be happy to help you with anything you may need during your trip." He gave the aliens a winning smile.

"Yep," Clara piped up. "If you need anything, just talk to me or Mr. O'Halley. Any trouble, just give us a shout." She grinned brightly. As the couples moved off down the deck, the Doctor faced his companion.

"Are you just calling me that on purpose now?"

Another time…

"Excuse us!" The Doctor ran up to the nearest officer, holding up his psychic paper. "We need to get past those doors. Special maintenance issue, we heard, and here we are." He gestured to himself and Clara, who was right on his heels. The security officer took the paper, looking it over. Finally, he nodded, handing it back to the Doctor and stepping away from the door.

"All yours, Mr. O'Halley," he said. The Doctor opened his mouth, shut it, and raced through the doors. Once he and his companion were inside the room with a deadly bomb ticking down to zero, the Doctor yanked out his psychic paper and glared at it.

"Come on!" he shouted at it. "Clara didn't even say anything this time!"

Bonus: 12 and Clara

The Doctor was trapped, and Clara had no idea how to save him. There was a steel wall between him and her, and she didn't have any tools to get to him. The TARDIS had been taken away and locked in a separate room (she didn't know where). Even if she had known, she couldn't fly it alone! Sonic screwdriver was with the Doctor, but the one door in and out of his cell had been deadlocked. Clara was left, stranded on a hostile planet, with no getaway options and no ideas. There was only one thing for it; she'd have to convince the alien species (Tellian, the Doctor had called them) to let him go.

Although how she was going to manage that, she had no idea.

With shaky hands and shallow breaths, she approached the two burly Tellians standing outside the steel room.

"They're a distrustful species, Clara," the Doctor had explained to her as they stepped out of his ship and onto the surface of Tellia, "If you refuse to answer their questions, or if they feel that you're withholding information, you're immediately sentenced to prison."

Apparently, Tellians considered it distrustful if the only name you gave them was "the Doctor". They had trusted Clara enough to leave her be. And now, that might be the only thing to get the Doctor out.

"What do you want, Clara Oswald?" one of the Tellians asked her as she approached.

"My friend," Clara began. "He's a nice, trustworthy person. Could you please let him go? This was just a misunderstanding."

"How can a willful lie be a misunderstanding?" the Tellian guard replied gruffly. Clara sighed, racking her brain for an alternative way out.

"Listen, if I tell you his name, will you let him go?" She looked from on Tellian to the other, trying her best to sound and look as honest as she possibly could. The guards gazed at each other, not quite sure how to answer the question.

After the Doctor was released…

"How did you persuade them to let me out?" the Doctor questioned. Clara grinned mysteriously.

"Oh…I made a bargain with them."

The Doctor frowned suspiciously, eyebrows drawing together in attack formation. "What bargain, Clara?"

"They agreed that if I told them your real name, they'd let you go," Clara called back. She skipped ahead, picturing the Doctor's confused expression.

"What did you tell them?"

Clara looked over her shoulder to see that the Doctor had stopped walking. He was giving her a look that she couldn't decipher. She turned, walking back over to him, feeling like a small child waiting for a scolding.

"I told them your special name," she said slowly. The Doctor's expression changed to confusion, then realization and annoyance.

"Oh, no, Clara; you didn't!"

Clara laughed. "What did you expect?" she teased.

"For the last time…my name isn't-"

"Apologies again, Archibald Wallace O'Halley," a passing Tellian said just at that moment. The Doctor glared at the alien's back and Clara slapped her hand to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles.

"Well," she gasped, laughing between words, "At least your accent fits your name this time!"

The Doctor stalked off in the direction of the TARDIS.

That was super long…I hope you guys don't mind.

SimmonsButterflys actually has an OC named Matera...and she wears red. I couldn't think of anyone else to insert into the fic, so I just used one of my sister's characters (you know, since she requested this prompt and all). But Miss Matera isn't mine.

*For the first reference of this name, go to Ch. 8.