A/N: The prompt for this one was "12 gets called a DILF and Clara has the awkward position of having to explain the term to him. 12 is confused but asks Clara if she thinks he is a DILF", so it's time once again to break out our favorite tween/young teenaged shites and I'm all for this.
835 words; takes place mid-s9, as per usual; considering the Doctor in general seems to be pretty good with slang and the TARDIS's translator helps a lot, I figure this would be the best bet
translation error 404 not found
This particular time, it was all because Mister Atif actually, genuinely needed some time off; the Doctor was given free rein to shuffle about the corridors of Coal Hill school in his caretaker's coat and tinker about, with one of the governors saying he'd done such a good job the prior time that they didn't need to bother with finding a temp. It was a bit surreal to Clara, as the being she knew as a near-all-powerful-semi-eldritch-space-god was now fixing things around the campus and emptying rubbish bins. Everything seemed almost… dare she thought… normal… and yet...
The first thing that tipped her off was that there was supposed to be students sitting down in her classroom, and yet there was no one despite the bell having already rung. Clara poked her head out the door and saw that the corridor was still filled with students, all trying to see into the boy's toilet of all things.
"What is going on?" she asked.
"Doctor Smith's trying to fight something in there," a student offered. Clara rolled her eyes.
"Alright, kids! To your classrooms! Let him work!" She began to push her way through the crowd, attempting to shoo away students as she went to see what the damage was going to be this time around. It seemed as though the Doctor was fighting a sink, which was spraying him in the face—as well as all over the bathroom itself—and it was only a slight relief that it wasn't a toilet itself.
"Clara!" he shouted over the noise of the water going everywhere. "Good! I need you to turn the water off!"
"I still have classes—no." He was finally able to reach the tap and turned it off, making his request moot. "Look at you… you're soaked to the skin. Why did you even have the tap open?"
"There wasn't water going to it before," he claimed. The Doctor wiped the excess water from his face and then ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back. It was a sight that made her inhale sharply, though she still tried to rein herself in; they were in a secondary school, for crying out loud. "I need to see why the water turned back on."
"I think you need to consider getting into some dry clothes first," she replied. A student hidden within the small crowd that remained giggled.
"Don't hog the dilf all to yourself, Miss." At that, Clara spun around on her heel, with a special sort of fury in her eyes that was reserved especially for teachers in regards to their charges.
"That is extremely inappropriate!" she declared. "Now either all of you clear out now, or detentions will be sat as early as this afternoon, for a month!" The teens and tweens in the crowd all scattered, not wanting to further risk her wrath. Clara took a couple deep breaths, steadying herself again, before turning back to the Doctor, who seemed to be extremely confused. "What?!"
"Uh… Clara…?"
"Doctor…?"
"What's a dilf?"
It was then that a small part of Clara died, not wanting to ever exist ever again. The rest of her, however, remained very much alive and well, blinking at the Time Lord in front of her in confusion.
"Doctor, you know what the students are saying before I do half the time—how do you not know that word?"
He shrugged. "I just don't—translation nanobots aren't perfect, after all."
"It's actually an acronym and… no, you know what? We aren't talking about this, not in a school toilet," she decided. He remained visibly confused, though now more concerned than before.
"...am I a dilf…?"
"You shouldn't be, not to the students, anyhow," Clara stated. "If it's any consolation, you are to me, and that's the opinion that matters most."
"...so it's a good thing?"
"If we're talking about me thinking so, then yes."
"...but not the students."
"No, not the students."
He thought about that for a moment and nodded.
"So… it has to do with what we'd do while not in a school toilet?"
"Yes, Doctor, it has everything to do with what I refuse we do in a school toilet," she groaned. "Now get out of here before a teenager needs to pee and instead has an awakening or something. I'll guard the place until you get back."
The Doctor decided to do the wise thing and did as he was told, leaving the bathroom while Clara stood guard outside, deterring anyone who wanted to use it from going in. He returned in dry clothes, though his hair was still slicked back and damp. As they high-fived in order to pass the bathroom-watching baton, Clara continued the motion and smacked the Doctor's rear as she left. He yelped quietly in surprise and suddenly everything was clear.
Oh… that sort of thing she doesn't want to do in the school toilet… so it had nothing to do with extraterrestrial champagne and interstellar senates after all...
