In my blind stumbling of agony, I decided to just post this. After tonight, our fandom needs some denial time. (No Clara my baby come back so you can kiss the Doctor and go save planets and we could all live happily ever after please please please come back.)
(I'm still crying. I'm not ready to let Clara Oswald go and now she's gone holy fRICK WHY)
Enjoy!
Hidden Message Two.
"It reminded me of you."
Clara didn't need to look into her living room to know that the TARDIS was parked in her apartment. All she needed to do was to listen. If it was too quiet, then she'd know that the Doctor was inside – if it was too loud, she'd know that the Doctor was inside, probably doing God-knows-what – but anything in between meant that she didn't have any visitors. However, today, the minute Clara opened her apartment door, she knew.
She was glad of that, too, because she had brought home something she had found in a small shop. And she didn't even know how interesting it was until she walked by it a few times. It was something rather peculiar, but then a familiar image of the Doctor passed through her mind.
And then Clara bought it – bought it without really thinking about it, to be honest.
"Is that you, Mrs. Johnson, because honestly, you need to stop badgering on about the rent – it's not due for another two weeks," the Doctor hollered from inside the kitchen. Clara paused at the front of her door, in the middle of taking off her shoes. She heard the Doctor shift around – and then he was coming to the front, still saying, "Haven't you got anything better to do besides bothering perfectly well-off people? Clara's got a job – she's got things to do – great, important things – paying rent two weeks before it's due really wouldn't be at the top of her –"
The Doctor stopped short. Clara held up one of her heels, asking, "Mrs. Johnson came by again?"
He quickly recovered. "Yes," he said, disgruntled. "Nosy old landlady. Kept asking me if I was one of your co-workers. And I told her that yes, I'm technically a co-worker, and then she asked me what I would be doing in your apartment and I told her that this was a normal thing. She didn't believe me! She kept threatening to call the police, even though I told her that that really wouldn't be necessary – how can you deal with people like her, Clara? I simply don't understand it. Dull pudding-brain creature too, don't you think? I can smell hamster food on her sweater. She has hamsters, and they really are distinguished animals, but I can already tell that she calls them silly names like Gibbles or –0r –" The Doctor stopped and turned to Clara again. "Quick! What other silly names are there for hamsters?"
Clara opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor threw up his hands. "Never mind," he muttered. "But I had to tell her that yes, this was a normal thing for us and then she asked us if we were related, and then I had to explain to her of course not! I mean, look at me! I'm Scottish. At least, I sound Scottish!"
Clara grinned. "Look at you," she said, shaking her head. "Getting all moody about Mrs. Johnson. There's really no reason to go off at her like that – she's had some bad people living in this building before. One couple wouldn't pay the rent until practically three and a half weeks after it's been due – she's now got something against younger people, but really, I try not to hold it against her." She slid her shoes to the side of the hallway, adding, "Besides, why are you here? Not that I mind, of course, but anything interesting to see? Should we get cocktails on the moon again? Or see the Opera in Mars?"
The Doctor flung sat himself down on the couch. "I've been thinking of visiting a new planet today – very lovely, all purple and blues. I think you might like it." He looked up at Clara. "There's been something odd going on there, too – might need to check it out."
Clara dropped her bag against the ground. She shrugged off her coat, threw that on the couch (just narrowly missing the Doctor) and replied lightly, "But of course. You can't say no to trouble." The Doctor clasped his hands together. "When have I not?" he asked.
Clara let out a small laugh as the Doctor hopped back to his feet. She had gotten used to constantly travelling with the Doctor lately – it's been a thing of habit at this point. Sometimes, the Doctor will vanish for a few weeks – but most of the time, he's been coming in every few days or so. Frankly, Clara wasn't complaining. After Christmas, everything had just come flooding back to her – she missed this. (She missed him. She wasn't planning on ever letting this go ever again.)
As the Doctor started to open up the TARDIS doors, Clara snapped her fingers. "Oh!" she cried out, diving back to the side of the couch again. "I nearly forgot –"
"Clara Oswald forgets something – that's something you don't hear every day," the Doctor said loftily from the TARDIS. Clara looked over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue. "Shush, you," she replied cheekily, tugging open her bag. "I got caught up in you grumbling on about Mrs. Johnson. Have you ever gotten lost in your own rambles?"
"Every once in a while. Makes my throat hurt," the Doctor answered. Clara rolled her eyes, though there was no annoyance (or even exasperation) in the expression. "Anyways," she said, reaching down inside her bag, "I was walking past this little stand while coming home today from work – and I kept passing by this, because…well…" She curled her fingers around something soft.
A-ha! Clara smiled to herself. There it is!
She pulled out the little grey blob and flung it out to the Doctor. Beaming, she said, "It reminded me of you!"
The Doctor stared down at the object in Clara's hand.
"Clara," he said slowly, "it's a little…owl."
"I know!" Clara replied happily. She squeezed it, and the stuffed doll let out a soft hoo. "See?" She turned the owl towards herself, her smile widening. "Doctor," she practically sang, and squeezed the owl again, who chorused back, "Hoo."
"Doctor –"
"Hoo."
"Doctor –"
"Hoo."
"Doctor –"
"Hoo."
Clara looked back up at the Doctor. She handed the little owl out to him, and after a full beat of silence, the Doctor took it from her. "See?" she asked brightly, walking around him to the TARDIS. "Isn't it adorable?"
"I reminded you of a stuffed owl?" the Doctor only asked, following Clara into the TARDIS.
"A little. Take it as a compliment." Clara headed straight for the console, laying her hands out on the controls. She took a look at the screens – she could already see the planet that the Doctor had chosen. He was right. It looked like it was in an odd (but beautiful) shade of blue and purple. She briefly wondered if it would be all water – or all land – or perhaps nothing at all. That would be interesting –
"Hoo."
Clara whirled around to see the Doctor just shoving the owl behind his back. She stared for a few moments – and felt a smile stretch across her lips as the Doctor's expression grew more and more sheepish.
"So…I'll take it that you like it?" she asked cheerfully.
"Hoo."
"I'll take that as a yes," Clara laughed.
A/N - After that episode, I can't even form a coherent thought. I'm just gonna...live in this Whouffaldi state of denial. (What, no - Clara's totally alive. Yeah. And everything's fine. EVERYTHING IS FINE. TOTALLY.)
Reviews would be nice - constructive criticism is tolerable. Flames are not. (Honestly, if one person even dares to tell me something negative about Clara Oswald or Whouffaldi right now, I wILL FIGHT YOU.)