"I'm not sure yet," the Doctor told her gravely.
"Doctor, Artie's been spending alot of time with these things," Clara reminded him.
"Yes, he has, with no ill effects."
"So far."
"Clara, alien doesn't necessarily mean bad, you know."
She winced, irritated with herself for unintentionally offering insult. "I know."
The Doctor gently tipped up her chin. "I won't let anything happen to Artie. I promise."
Clara instantly manufactured a smile for him.
"Now, he's found all of these right here in the neighborhood?"
"That's what he said," Clara confirmed.
"I'll need to have a look 'round and see where they came from, how many there are, and so forth." He stood, pocketed his sonic, and straightened his bowtie, all of which Clara knew to be preparation for exploration and action.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Doctor, why don't you come in and have dinner with us? Ask him yourself? Unless you really enjoy the idea of crawling all over this entire neighborhood on your hands and knees." Clara quirked an eyebrow at him and he smiled.
"Clever girl. Right then, let's go ask our aspiring entomologist exactly where he found these."
"Clara, Dad called to say he'll be working late tonight," Angie reported. She smirked as Clara and the Doctor exchanged frustrated glances.
Clara frowned, thinking quickly. George's absence made things at once easier and more difficult. Easier, because they wouldn't have to be so careful of what was said; harder, because now they were trapped with the kids for the evening, with no clue how dangerous things might get.