Chapter 4
A/N: *mutters a thousand and one apologies* I am so very sorry, so sorry; I'm the worst updater ever and you all may come after me with pitchforks. Here is, after a month, the fourth chapter of Stuck In Reverse. Not entirely sure where to go with this, so suggestions are very very welcome, my loves!
She bounded up the stairs and hopped up onto the open roof, a grin spreading across her lips as she laid eyes on the blue box. Curls of smoke rolled sluggishly out of the flung open doors. The Doctor—at least what she could see of him—was lying on his stomach, his upper torso hidden under the box's wreckage. She could hear thumps and electricity buzzing from inside the box, followed by a yelp and a blast of soot puffing out of the box. H
He shimmied out of the wreck and pushed himself into a sitting position, running long fingers through his spiky hair to shake out the soot. Clara approached slowly, watching the scene with polite curiosity.
"Totaled, looks like it," she remarked as she settled into a crouch beside him. He confirmed her statement with a nod and rolled onto his side, pillowing his head on the heel of his hand.
"She is not happy by far," the Doctor added and clicked his tongue in disapproval. Clara arched a slender brow and threw him a sideglance.
"She?"
"Aye! My T.A.R.D.I.S," the Doctor brightened at that, pointing to the blue box. "Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. She isn't a machine. Well," he drew out the word and tilted his head slightly. "She is, but she isn't an it. I happened to crash after a nasty confrontation with some Silurians. Then, she threw a fit about temporal distortions and here I am." Clara sat patiently, in silence as she processed the information and listened to him explain his pitiful situation in a spasmodic manner.
"Right, you owe that story. Or perhaps a story of an explanation which happens to maybe answer a billion questions I've got, Doctor?" She answered , shifting her position to sit cross-legged with her hands folded over her lap. She reached up and pulled her long tresses over one shoulder, regarding him with a ghost of a smile on the curve of her lips. He watched her for a moment, his eyes wide, before speaking.
"You. Clara Oswald, you are so alive, do you know that?"
"Well, there's a 'art beating in m'chest, so I should think so," she quipped.
"No, but really alive. Like an aura, or some blazing corona. It's bloody amazing," he said, shaking his head to her misinterpretation. She, on the other hand, contemplated the words that had just left his lips and warmth rose in her face. Before she even knew it, she was blushing and definitely not of her own accord.
"Thank you?" She offered the response more as a question than a statement and shrugged her shoulders. Nonetheless, she managed a short laugh which he joined in on.
A/N: Another short update. I am so sorry *Ten voice*. I promise, longer one tomorrow!