They were running. Running and running and running — for their lives. It seemed to be good exercise, traveling with Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome in his TARDIS. She ran a lot, and never complained about it. The Doctor was thankful for the latter part of that statement. Very thankful.
"Doctor," she said, yanking him by the arm and tugging him into a side-hallway with her. He fell into her, holding his breath as a mob of angry "space pirates" — as Clara so cleverly called them — went running past.
"That was close," she said, finally heaving a great sigh and sagging back against the metallic wall for a fleeting moment as she fought to catch her breath.
They did this far too often.
When would he learn that she deserved better?
She deserved a normal, Human life. Not this one — where she was always running about (with an alien for a best friend) and saving the day.
One day he'd lose her in a mess, not unlike the predicament they currently found themselves in. Maybe this was the one.
Maybe this was it.
He eventually did the same, catching his breath with her, his back coming to rest against a metal panel as he leant against the wall beside her. "Too close," he said. "Far too close. As soon as they realize we're nowhere to be found, they'll come back. They'll come looking for us. Surely they'll split up, maybe retrace their steps. They'll find us, sooner or later."
"So very optimistic," she grumbled, beneath her breath, as a hand rose to tuck stray, wispy tendrils of hair behind an ear. He turned to her, irritation on his features. It was so clearly written there. And when he spoke, his voice was low and hushed, and he softened considerably. "Oh? And what do you suggest that we do?"
She noticed a vent nearby, which gave her an idea. "They don't have any… weird sort of air on this ship, do they? It's just regular oxygen or air-conditioning, I'm assuming. We're breathing just fine, yeah? Even with your superior respiratory system, as you never cease to remind me."
Her question caught him off-guard for a moment and a brow flew upwards. "I'm not sure," he said, eyebrows remaining furrowed. "Why do you ask? It's just normal air flow, as far as I can tell. It feels like it, anyway."
She was already tugging him towards the vent. She snagged the pair of Sonic Sunglasses from his hand, as he seemed a bit too dumbfounded to do it himself, and proceeded to unlock it. She set the metal screen and its panel aside before crawling, head first, into the shaft. "C'mon, then," she called quietly to him from over her shoulder.
After tucking his Sonic Glasses away, he crawled in after her, closing up the panel behind him as best as he could manage thereafter. "I don't know where this leads, Clara," he told her, allowing her to take the lead. After all, he had a rather nice view from where he was.
"Stop staring," she suddenly told him, although she was only partially teasing.
He only scoffed. "What? Clara… I'm not." And that was all he said as he hurried after her. The TARDIS was downstairs, patiently waiting for them to make another daring escape. Could they pull it off this time? He wasn't so sure.