The Doctor was helping himself to a cup of coffee at the breakfast buffet. It was strong and black, just the thing to get the blood pumping first thing in the morning after he'd been up most of the night with one thing.. or another. The Doctor considered loading the cup with sugar cubes one at a time but instead decided to take the whole bowl with him to the table.
Clara sidled up beside him, looking wide eyed and a little panicked.
"Doctor, where is the TARDIS?" she whispered.
"Hmmm?" he said a little distracted. He was considering a pastry or perhaps a round of toast.
"The TARDIS. Where is it?" she repeated a little louder.
"Exactly where I left it."
"No. No, it's not. It's gone."
"Rubbish," he scoffed taking a pastry and his coffee and turning towards the breakfast table.
Clara followed and grabbed his arm. He halted as the coffee lapped over the rim of the cup and into the saucer. The Doctor sighed heavily.
She rounded to face him, blocking his path to the table. "I just went to feed the cat and it's not there," she explained.
The coffee steadied and Clara released her grip. He navigated around her and made his way to the table as she trailed behind anxiously.
"Well he's probably gone off on an adventure," The Doctor said sitting down. "Cats do that you know. Very independent."
He began to load sugar cubes into the cup. One, two, three, four, five.. He paused as he realised he hadn't gotten around to telling Clara about the cat and his jaunts through time and space.
There were times when he saw the future in his mind's eye, extrapolated in full colour before him. It came in handy when saving a planet or predicting the weather for a picnic. But this was different. This was Clara; his new wife Clara. And when he tried to predict her reaction, for some reason the future looked decidedly foggy. Fortunately he didn't have to wait too long to find out.
"My cat can pilot a TARDIS?" she asked incredulously as she sat down next to him.
"Well. In a manner of speaking."
The TARDIS sat idle in a carriage of the train. It was in a dusty corner up against some old cardboard boxes. Inside, the lights were low and the time rotor spun slowly as if to amuse itself in The Doctors absence. It was in power saving mode.
On the lower level, the cat woke and yawned widely as it considered its morning routine.
It stood from its bed on the engine cover and stretched, shaping its back into the common Halloween pose before jumping down onto the floor to use the litter box. After it was done, it flung some litter around with its back legs and stepped out.
There was no sound from upstairs. 'My attendants must be out', it mused as it trotted up the stairs to the upper console level.
Seeing no one to greet him, and an empty bowl, he jumped up onto the console and strolled across the controls, pressing buttons absently as he went. Somewhere deep the TARDIS the garbage disposal engaged and a light went on in the library. The TARDIS made a noise like a sigh.
The cat stalked its way across the console and sniffed at the telepathic circuits. They seemed warm and organic, and in the absence of a lap the cat thought that it might do nicely as a bed while he waited.
He sunk his paws deep into the circuit and began to turn in circles, kneading the gel-like surface with its claws. The cloister bell sounded in distress but mercifully the cat ceased its torture and flopped down, curling itself into a ball.
He began to think about how hungry he was and how he would very much like a nice fat juicy fish. Like the ones he sometimes got as a treat from the fishmonger.
The telepathic circuits engaged and the TARDIS console sprang to life. The familiar wheezing sound rang out as the TARDIS de-materialised from the train and re-materialised in the alley near the fishmonger, just around the corner from Coal Hill School.
The door swung open and the cat's nose began to twitch.
"So he does this a lot?" Clara asked. "He just borrows the TARDIS and you're not worried about that at all?"
"Of course not," The Doctor said, waving his hand dismissively. "The TARDIS always brings him back. Besides, nine lives. Almost as many as me!"
Clara sat back in her seat, in shock. A time travelling cat. Now she'd heard everything. Clara watched as The Doctor added another couple of sugars to his coffee before he stirred it vigorously with a teaspoon.
"Would you like some coffee with that sugar?" she asked dryly. The Doctor didn't respond. He was too busy gulping it down.
"Not sure I've ever seen you eat breakfast either," she said suspiciously as she spied the pastry on his plate.
"I'm absolutely ravenous." And exhausted too by his tone.
"Must be all that physical activity, Doctor," she said, her lips curling up into a sly smile.
The Doctor put the cup down and his posture slumped dramatically. "Clara, I'm not a young man any more."
"Could have fooled me," she said with a laugh and then leaned closer as if to tell a secret. "That thing you did last night with.."
They were suddenly interrupted by an older gentlemen looming over their table. He had an academic look about him and he was smiling at The Doctor as if they were old friends.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said apologetically. He steepled his hands together as if in prayer and gave a little bow. "I just wanted to say what a wonderful lecture you did last night, Doctor. 'The Secret Life of Intestinal Parasites,'" he said moving his hand through the air like he was seeing the title up in lights. "I shall never forget it."
Clara's eyes widened.
"Ah, thank you," said The Doctor beaming. "George wasn't it?"
"Yes. George." He looked over at Clara. "And this must be your lovely wife."
Clara reached out a hand to him and he gave it a squeeze. "Clara. Clara Oswald," she said.
He released her hand with a smile and addressed The Doctor again. "I look forward to tonight's instalment, Doctor Oswald."
The Doctor nearly spat his coffee across the table. He'd been called a lot of things in his time but Dr Oswald was a first. Any easy mistake to make. Clara did introduce herself as Oswald and most married couples shared a surname. It was only logical.
George turned to leave but then had another thought. "I must say though Doctor, these lecture times are rather unorthodox. Two AM to Four AM? I'm getting a bit too old for this!" he said with a smile. And with that, he turned and left their presence.
Clara's mouth was agape. She looked at The Doctor who stayed silent. Wise move.
"So while I'm sleeping, you're doing talks on worms?"
"Parasites," he corrected. "Intestinal parasites."
She was stunned silent. They were on honeymoon and he was swanning off at night to deliver educational lectures.
He saw Clara's expression and offered an explanation. "You spend so much of your life sleeping. I get so bored laying there for hours waiting for you."
"Then bring a book to bed."
"There are only so many books in the universe, Clara."
This was a timely reminder that she had indeed married an alien. He didn't sleep like a normal human and she couldn't exactly expect him to start. She had hoped he would have at least indulged her on honeymoon, but her stomach was rumbling and her desire for food outweighed her desire for a heated discussion on the matter.
"I'm getting something to eat," she said, pushing herself out of the chair. The Doctor grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Don't touch the bacon," he warned.
"Why not? I like bacon."
"It's undercooked. Trichinella Spiralis. Scanned it with the sonic."
Clara rolled her eyes.