The Doctor seems a bit sensitive about looking older this time around I'd love to see a story where someone picks up on the fact that they have feelings for each other, and says some rude things about the age difference. Clara surprises Twelve who expects her to tell the person they're not a couple just good friends, instead Clara kisses him prompting the Doctor to consider that maybe Clara doesn't mind the new older him.

To AllonsyIdjits: I'm so, so sorry it took so long. For the last few month I had so much to study I hardly had time to think, let alone write anything. I hope you enjoy and I'll be posting the other prompt real soon. x

"Two ice cream cones."

A moment of silence followed, during which the Doctor hesitated, remembered what Clara had told him, and finally added a not very convincing "Please."

"What flavor?" asked the chubby man behind the counter.

The Time Lord gave a quick look at the range of possibilities displayed before his eyes. "Chocolate," he said, without any shadow of doubt in his voice. "Lots of chocolate."

The ice-cream man chuckled. "Sure thing, mate," he said amicably.

The Doctor started distractedly rummaging through his bigger-on-the-inside pockets for some change to pay for the ice cream, while looking behind his shoulder in search of Clara. She was exactly where he had left her, laid down on a beach towel, reading a book. It was a beautiful, sunny, day and she had insisted to spend a lazy afternoon in the park. He had pretended not to be keen on that idea at all, that he'd much rather be chased by aliens at the opposite end of the galaxy, but, truth was, he was really keen, indeed.

That thought made him involuntarily smile, and he had been so distracted he hadn't even noticed that his orders were ready.

"It's seems like you're having a nice day," the man said, noticing his grin.

This obvious attempt to make friendly conversation brought the Doctor back to reality. He saw the man holding the ice cream towards him, with a patient smile on his face.

The Doctor nearly jumped. "Oh sorry."

He had already forgotten about the ice creams. He left some money on the counter before taking them carefully in his is hands. "Keep the change."

He was about to leave, when he turned back to face the ice cream man and made no attempt to hide the big smile which was curling the corners of his lips. "Yes, a wonderful day. Thank you."

The happiness vanished from his face only when he noticed Clara wasn't lonely any more. She was talking intently to a little girl with big, dark, eyes and her black hair tide up in two long braids. The Doctor quickened his pace, forgetting once again of the cones he was holding in his hands.

"What book are you reading?" the girl was asking Clara, curiously.

He had stopped just next to the beach towel, as if stubbornly, and a bit childishly, waiting for the little girl to go away and leave Clara for himself. The women looked up and positively beamed at him, before bringing back her attention to the little girl. "It's The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I'm reading it again because it's one of my favorite and I love rereading regularly all my favorite books," she explained. "Do you like reading?"

The girl - which in the meantime was completely ignoring the Doctor's presence – gave Clara a knowing, triumphant look. "Oh yes," she said, excitedly. "I love reading."

Clara's smile widened. "Really? It's nice to find intelligent people who like to read. Those people are my favorite," she told the little girl, giving her a small wink. "What kind of books do you like?"

"People who read are the best," she agreed, nodding wholeheartedly. "I love Harry Potter. I never get sick of reading it."

Clara laughed and nodded, too, approvingly. "I know, right? What's your favor-"

"Yeah, well, why don't you go and find children your own age to talk about stuff," the Doctor said, interrupting Clara, "Go on, now. Toddle along."

And as he said that he made a gesture with his arms that clearly indicated she should leave. Both Clara and the little girl looked at him at the same time and gave him a menacing look. Then the girl looked back at Clara.

"Is that your daddy?" she asked, "He's mean."

The Doctor's mouth fell open, in shock. "What did you say, little pudding brain? How dare you-" he mumbled, through gritted teeth.

"Yes, he is mean," she said, raising her voice to cover what he was saying and giving him a very disapproving look, before adding, with a softer voice and slightly blushing: "And, no, he's not my daddy."

The little girl didn't look very convinced by her words, but she didn't say anything. "Well, I'll go anyway. Thank you, miss!"

She waved cheerfully at Clara, ignored the Doctor and eventually ran off to meet her parents.

"Bye," Clara waved back. "See you around."

Then, she turned to face the Doctor, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "Really?" she asked, sounding almost exasperated. Then she gestured her hand towards him. "Now give me my ice cream, before it melts completely."

The time traveler looked at his hands which were still holding the ice cream cones, and looked surprised to see them there. "They are melting, aren't they?"

Clara chuckled and he started laughing, too, as he lent her her ice cream and set down next to her.

"Are you sure?" The Doctor asked, with doubt resonating clear in his voice. "Are really, really, sure?"

Clara sighed deeply. "Yes," she said, trying to sound less exasperated as she possibly could. "I'm 100% positive, thank you."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "If you say so...", he said, not looking at her.

Clara felt anger boiling inside of her and struggled to contain it. "Why," she stressed, "Why on earth shouldn't I be sure?"

By the end her voice had raised in volume and the Doctor, sensing danger, shifted slightly away from Clara, as if expecting a blow from her at any moment. "I just didn't expect you to agree to watch Mad Max: Fury Road with me."

"Why?"

"Well..." He started, looking at her with uncertainty. "For starters, you hardly ever agree with my suggestions -"

"That's really unfair and so not true!" Clara protested.

"- and also I didn't think you would want to see an action movie," he finished, ignoring her comment.

Before she could answer, they heard an impatient cough coming from behind them. They had been so caught up in conversation, they hadn't noticed that the queue was moving on without them. They filled the gap that separated them from the person before them in line, while Clara apologized to the annoyed people after them.

Then Clara suddenly turned in the Doctor's direction. "Is it because I'm a girl?" She asked, frowning.

The Doctor knew that this discussion was not going to turn out in his favor, but it was too late to back down now. "Well," he mumbled, trying to think of the best way to fix everything, but failing miserably to come up with any ideas. "I thought that maybe you'd rather see something else, like -"

He looked up at the list of movies they were showing at that cinema, as they took another step forward "- Pitch Perfect 2."

"First of all," Clara started, patiently. "Why did you suggest Mad Max if you thought I wouldn't what to see it?"

The Doctor pondered on her question for a couple of seconds, shrugged, and finally looked at her, confused. Her eyes softened and she smiled at him, before continuing: "Second of all, women can appreciate these kind of movies just as much as men. You're a 2000 years old alien, you should know better than perpetuate these stupid, patriarchal, stereotypes."

Her last words made him blush, so he mumbled an embarrassed "I suppose you're right".

This concession made her smile with satisfaction. "Especially if you think about all we've been through. I've kind of been living the action movie life."

They both laughed at this, and they exchanged an amused grin.

"And finally," she continuing, getting another step closer to the end of the queue. There was just one person left before them. "I heard lots of positive comments about Mad Max, and, while I did enjoy the first Pitch Perfect, I'm against sequels as a principle. It's like my philosophy when it comes to movies."

"Oh yeah?" The Doctor said, hastily, "What about the second movies of the Lords of the Rings trilogy? And -"

"There are some important exceptions," she admitted, interrupting him. "But we're not having this discussion again. You know full well what I meant."

He was about to reply something, when they found themselves facing the ticket man.

"Two tickets for Mad Max: Fury Road, please" Clara said hastily, before the Doctor could say anything, and then she beamed up at him, making the time lord's hearts melt in his chest.

"Sure," said the man on the other side of the glass, clicking away on his computer. "That will be 18 pounds please."

The Doctor looked at him, surprised. "But here it says it's 10 pounds for adults," he said, pointing at the list of price ticket pinned to the box office.

"Yes, but it's reduced to 8 pounds for people over sixty," the man said, gently.

"Oh no," the Doctor made a gesture of denial with his hands, as if to keep away flies. "I don't think Clara's there, yet."

After a moment of embarrassed silence, Clara lent closer to him so she could whisper in his ear: "He was probably talking about you."

"Me?" He said, raising his voice. "Why is it supposed to be me? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

"Have you?" She said, and then she pointed to his head and whispered: "The grey hair. We talked about it, remember?"

The Doctor remained perfectly still for a second, before extracting something from his inside pocket and shoving it in front of the man's face. "Maybe you should ask for an identity card before judging whether I need reduction or not."

The man squinted his eyes to read the card presented to him and then muttered a confused apology, as he proceeded to sprint their tickets.

The Doctor then turned the psychic paper so he could read it. "57," he read, half surprised, half annoyed.

He dropped the money on the counter, grabbed the tickets and stormed off.

Clara stood there for a second with her mouth open, taken aback by his sudden, strange, behavior, before hurrying after him.

Clara was sitting in front of the mirrors in her bed room, apparently completely focused on putting on make up, but in reality her attention was absorbed elsewhere.

She was observing the Doctor. She had been observing him for the last few days. He had been acting weird. More than usually so.

"So" he said, "where are we going this evening?"

She gave him another quick glance. The Time Lord was casually leaning against his time machine, parked in its usual spot. He wasn't looking in her direction. She knew him well enough to know he wasn't in the room with her, that he was far away, lost in thoughts.

"I'm going out with my friends," she said, as she finished putting on her mascara. "You are not invited."

She put away down the bottle she was holding and lifted her head to beam at him. He was looking towards her but he didn't reciprocate the smile.

"Oh yeah, and why is that?" he asked. "Is it because I'm too old to go out with you?"

She immediately turned in her seat to face him. He hadn't moved but he was looking at her straight in her eyes. He had a stern expression and his lips were sealed tightly together. He had spoken calmly, but she could feel the repressed anger reverberating in every inch of his body.

"Do I look too old to hang out with your friends? Do I embarrass you?"

For a few moments, she stared at him with wide eyes, unable to remember how to put words in the right order in a coherent phrase. Then, before she could fully understand what she was doing, she stood up, so quickly the stool she was sitting on fell to the ground.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was totally unlike him. Or was it? This regeneration still managed to confuse and surprise her. But still, she would never had guessed he could be so - insecure? - about these sort of things. She wondered if that had been the reason for his strange behavior during the last few days.

"No, of course not!" She quickly apologized, almost desperately. "It's an all girls' night out, that's all. Would you like to come? I mean - you could come! I just thought you wouldn't even want to-"

"No it's fine," the Doctor interrupted her, embarrassed. "Sorry, I just -"

But he didn't finish what he was saying and what followed was instead an awkward silence.

Clara gave him a tentative smile and, after a second of hesitation, he smiled back. This encouraged her, so she walked towards him, until they were more close than appropriate and then looked up at him.

"Don't worry about stuff like that. Please. I don't care," she spoke softly, almost whispering. "I see you."

This made him chuckle and he nodded, slowly.

"It's not as if I don't appreciate dad for moving nearby after Danny died," she was saying, pausing for a second at the painful memory, before continuing, "it's just that now I'm forced to see Linda every other day."

As she spoke, she pulled the trolley forwards in the isle of the supermarket looking right and left for items on her shopping list.

The Doctor was walking next to her with his hands in his pockets. He gave Clara a sidelong glance and then smiled quietly. He had managed to relax a bit about the grey hair, old looking issue, but it was still there, at the back of his mind, as if lurking and ready to attack at any moment.

His appearance - his new face - didn't bother him at all, but he had started to worry that it might bother Clara. He never really thought it might make her see him... Differently. Yes, he had told her himself that he wasn't her boyfriend, but that was because I wanted to protect her. Or whatever he had been thinking at the time.

And anyway so many things had happened since then. So many things had changed.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with her, too," Clara added, frowning.

"It's only been two or three times," he shrugged.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked inquisitively at the shelf on her left, on the Doctor's side.

"Could you please get the cereals on the top shelf?" she asked, "The ones you like. I can't reach them. "

The Doctor stood on his tiptoes and reached for the box at the top. As he finally managed to grab it, he heard a frustrated moan coming from behind him.

"Speak of the devil," Clara muttered, before raising her voice to a high pitch tone and saying all to enthusiastically: "Linda!"

"Clara!" A voice reciprocated.

The Doctor turned towards the source of that voice and saw Linda marching towards them with her own trolley full of groceries.

"How good it is to see you," she said once she had reached them.

"Yeah," Clara nodded in an exaggeratedly pronounced manner. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Just doing a little shopping," she said, stating the obvious. "Why don't you come to dinner one of these days?"

Clara gave her her best fake smile. "I don't know," she said, pretending to think about it. "I'm really busy, you know..."

"You are both invited of course," she told her, ignoring what Clara was saying and finally acknowledging the Doctor's presence.

There was a moment of silence, before Linda continued: "You know," she started. "Your father and I agree you make a wonderful couple."

It took a couple of seconds before the Doctor managed to understand what she was implying, and, once he did, his body stiffened.

"Of course, I knew you didn't like boy bands," she went on, "But honestly I thought you might have been better of with someone your own age."

She laughed. It was false, almost provocative laugh. "Or, you know, someone not twice you age, at least," she finished, still chuckling.

The Doctor's hearts started beating painfully in his chest, and all his blood rushed to his cheeks as he tried his best to avoid looking Clara in the eye. He wondered what made Lynda say such a thing - what had given her that impression anyway - but most of all he dreaded to know what Clara was thinking. He find it hard to accept the idea that Clara might consider Linda's assumption as absurd, as impossible, as totally out of the question, but he knew that was probably the only possible scenario, so he waited for her to dismiss Linda's words, to protest, to correct her and say they were nothing more than friends.

But his impossible girl managed to surprise him once again.

"Honestly," she said, with a calm voice. "I don't care what you think."

He turned to look at her, amazed. She smiled, before holding on to his shirt and dragging him into her and putting her lips on his.

He hesitated, but then tentatively put his arms around her and pulled her awkwardly closer.

The kiss was soft and slow and over all to quickly, as Clara ended the contact between them, but the Doctor felt it had lasted much longer than only a couple of seconds. She rested her hands on his chest and looked up at him. She had still that sweet smile on her face and the Doctor finally managed to smile back.

"I wouldn't care if he were 2000 years old," she told Linda, but without looking at her and keeping her eyes locked to the Doctor's.

"Well - I'm glad to hear that," Linda said, without real conviction. "I'll be going, then. It was nice to see you both."

The Doctor and Clara eventually broke apart, and Clara stared, satisfied, at Linda, as she pulled passed them. "Sure, take care," she waved, happily.

Then she took the Doctor's hand in hers and squeezed it. He squeezed it back and they grinned at each other.

"Why don't we get take out and stay in this evening?" She asked.

"Sounds perfect," he replied, softly, having felt a terrible weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.