"I'm sorry, Doctor. Artie didn't mean -"
"It's fine, Clara, really," he assured her in a falsely hearty voice.
Clara stroked his arm lightly with her free hand. "If you ever…you know…"
"I do know," he assured her with a fond smile.
Clara smiled back at him, then stretched up on her toes to lightly kiss his cheek. The Doctor gathered her into a gentle embrace, only to be interrupted a brief moment later by Artie's exuberant shout.
"We'd better go see what they've got into," Clara said sheepishly.
The Doctor brushed his thumb lightly over her cheekbone, then grabbed her hand and set off in the direction of Artie's voice.
"Over here!" Artie called excitedly.
"Come here, Artie," Clara said warily. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder to hold him close beside her. "You too, Angie," she added, grasping her other charge by the sleeve.
The Doctor dropped to his knees to enthusiastically investigate, scanning the small creatures with his sonic. He jumped back, startled, when a small bolt of energy shot out and struck his fingers.
"Ow!" he yelled, stuffing the offended digits into his mouth.
"Grasshoppers do not shoot little energy bolts," Angie stated emphatically.
"No, they don't," the Doctor agreed cheerfully.
Clara recognized that tone, and knew that he was now fully and happily engrossed in his investigation.
"Come on then, little fellows…where are you from?" he muttered.
"Can they talk?" Angie asked, curious in spite of herself.
"Everything can talk, Angie…it's just a matter of knowing how to listen."
The Doctor scrunched his lanky frame down closer to the ground, straining to hear the tiny creatures. "Now then, who are you? And where are you from?" A pause. "Really? I had no idea!"
"I can't hear a thing," Angie scoffed. "I think he's mental!"
"Angie!" Clara scolded.
"I can hear lots of things that you can't Angie. Superior biology, you understand. Much more acute auditory processing than a human," the Doctor explained smugly. "Now then, Artie…nip along to your lab and fetch the other jar, would you?"
"Is that safe, Doctor?" Clara asked quickly.
"Of course…wouldn't send Artie if it wasn't. You see, what happened is that the ones Artie caught are just kids. These are -"
"The parents?" Clara guessed.
"Indeed. Quite harmless, actually."
"They shoot little lightening bolts," Angie protested.
"Only because they thought we'd hurt their children. Quite a normal reaction. Oi!" he protested as another bolt zapped his hand.
Clara cautiously drew Angie back a few paces.
"Now you stop that! We're fetching them for you, right now. He's just a curious little boy; he meant no harm, I promise."
"Is he really talking to them?" Angie stage-whispered.
"Yes," Clara replied, her eyes never leaving the Doctor.
"How?"
"The TARDIS translates for him."
"That, and the fact that I speak more languages than you can possibly comprehend," the Doctor informed her in a normal speaking tone that made it obvious that he'd heard every word.
"Modest, too," Angie said, rolling her eyes.
Clara nudged her in the ribs.
"Here it is, Doctor!" Artie shouted, running up to them with a jar clutched tightly in his hand.
"Good lad! Give it here!" The Doctor opened the jar, releasing the little not-grasshoppers. "We really are sorry," he said softly. "I've a ship. I'd be happy to take you home, or anywhere at all, for that matter." He stared intently at the small creatures for a moment. "Oh…I see. Yes, of course."
"Doctor, what is it?" Clara asked worriedly. She had both arms wrapped around the kids to keep them close by her side.
"They just stopped here long enough to give birth. Now that they've got their youngsters back, they'll be off."
"In a little spaceship?" Artie asked eagerly.
"Watch," the Doctor told him, stepping back to stand with Clara and the children. He wrapped one arm around Clara, his other hand resting on Artie's shoulder, and was again overcome by the feeling of contentment that washed through him.
"Look!" cried Angie, with unabashed wonder.
A translucent, sparkling sphere, looking for all the world like a glittered soap bubble lifted up from the grass and drifted up to the night sky.
"Are they going home?" Artie wanted to know.
"They don't really have a home; they drift on the stellar winds, only seeking a planet when it's time for them to give birth."
"I didn't mean to scare them."
"They understand. I explained things to them," the Doctor assured him.
Artie bit his lip. "I guess…maybe I should let all the others go, too."
"There's nothing wrong with proper scientific observation, Artie. Once you've made your notes, then yes, let them get on about their business, but don't ever stop being curious about your world."
They continued to watch the shining sphere until it floated up out of their sight.
Clara was emptying the dishwasher, and the Doctor was sitting at the table, patiently explaining a math problem to Angie when they finally heard George Maitland's car pull in.
"I am so sorry," he apologized. "Corporate is coming tomorrow and everything had to be set for our presentation. Artie gone up yet?"
"Just a while ago," Clara told him. "There's a plate for you in the microwave. Just zap it for ninety seconds."
"Thank you, Clara. I don't know what we'd ever do without you. And Doctor, I'm sorry to have ruined your evening. Perhaps you could still catch a late cinema or something?"
"I'm sure we'll think of something," the Doctor assured him, as he helped Clara into her jacket.
"You were great with the kids," Clara said, as they strolled arm in arm down the path towards the TARDIS.
"And why shouldn't I be?" the Doctor wanted to know.
Clara opened her mouth, then pressed her lips firmly together.
"It's OK to ask," he said, with a sidewise glance.
"And would you answer?" she asked, a bit breathlessly.
"Maybe."
When she finally did speak, it wasn't to voice her original question. "You're like them aren't you? No home…just…adrift on the stellar winds."
"Perhaps. But I do have something to anchor me to this world."
"What's that?"
"You, Clara."
And that was answer enough, she decided, smiling softly as she stared into his fathomless green eyes.