My Internet is acting up today. *groans loudly* But I managed to write this thing! Hopefully, I can post this without too much trouble...
Enjoy!
Hidden Message Five.
"I'll walk you home."
"Miss Oswald?"
"Hm?" Clara's head jerked up from the mound of papers she was working on. She scribbled a neat grade at the corner as one of her students – a small girl named Sydney – walked up to her desk. Sydney was one of the quieter ones in the class, which Clara was always grateful for. She didn't seem to show up too much after school, but then again, it always seemed that Sydney was on top of her own schoolwork.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Clara asked kindly, tucking away her papers.
"No, Miss Oswald," Sydney replied politely. "But there's a man outside for you."
Clara felt her lips twitch into a smile. "Does he have grey hair? Angry eyebrows?"
Sydney shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I…suppose so," she responded. "Though I wouldn't call his eyebrows angry, Miss Oswald."
"Then what would you describe them as?"
"…stern?"
Clara let out a light laugh. Standing up, she said, "Well, thank you, Sydney."
"You're welcome!" With that, Sydney started to walk out of the door, only stopping short in front of someone. Clara heard her squeak something out, and when she looked back up, she found the Doctor standing in the doorway. He scooted a little ways from Sydney, and while she ran out of the room, he called after her, "Are you paying attention to Miss Oswald's class?"
Sydney stopped short. "Er…yeah," she replied uncertainly.
Clara couldn't help but to giggle as the Doctor's face softened. "Good," he said. "One less child to be suspicious of."
The corner of Sydney's lips tugged into a puzzled smile. "Alright," she only said.
Once she was out of earshot, Clara said lightly, "Sydney's one of my top students. She was the one who wrote that essay on Jane Austen – with historically accurate evidence to support her claims." She grabbed her folders, stuffing them into her bag. "But anyways, what's the occasion for today? Do we have any aliens to fight? Another trip to the twenty-fifth century? Or – or…" Clara grinned, holding up a finger. "Another trip to Jane Austen's house? Because our last visit was fantastic, and I promised her we'd see each other again."
"Is that what you'd like?" the Doctor asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Clara beamed at him. "Well, of course," she answered, walking around her desk. "It's Jane Austen."
"Then to Jane Austen, we'll go."
Clara grinned again. Holding up her bag, she told the Doctor, "Just let me drop this off at my apartment, yeah? Don't want to lug this around – and I've been trying not to leave my schoolwork in the TARDIS. Last time I took it with me, I forgot to bring it back with me to class – and then I was nearly a week behind report cards." Clara shook her head. "Thank God you came when you did, or else the headmaster would still be yapping at me about it."
"That's fine," the Doctor replied. "I…left my TARDIS at your apartment, though."
"Really?" Clara asked, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "That's new. What's the reason?"
"I wanted to walk you home," the Doctor responded simply.
Clara felt a rush of affection for the Doctor, who was smiling almost shyly now. She walked forward, briefly placing a hand over the Doctor's cheek. Rubbing the side of his face for a moment, Clara said softly, "You're sweet." With that, she dropped her hand and returned the Doctor's smile. "Come on, then. It's a bit of a walk, isn't it?"
"It is," the Doctor replied, following Clara out of the classroom. "But compared to what we're used to –"
"Definitely not too much," Clara agreed.
The two headed out of the school and onto the parking lot. It had rained earlier that day, and the pavement was dark and slippery. Still, Clara walked across without too much trouble. Her shoes, she knew, would make funny squeaking sounds on the TARDIS floor later, but the Doctor wouldn't mind it too much.
"Is your motorcycle still at the shop?" the Doctor asked after some time.
"Yup," Clara responded. "Something funny with the engine. Had to get it checked out and repaired." She drummed her fingers against her bag's strap. "I don't mind, though – could always use with a little more exercise."
"You've got a car," the Doctor pointed out.
"You know me – I don't like driving." Clara shot the Doctor a sly look. "Especially when I have you popping in and out all the time."
The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, there was a loud revving sound from behind them. Clara stood on the tips of her toes to catch a look at what it was – probably some obnoxious teenagers trying out new cars – and only saw the flash of bright lights before she was being roughly tugged away from the pavement. Clara felt her feet make impact with the soft dirt – and then she was stumbling into the Doctor's chest, feeling his hearts pound rhythmically to her ears.
Clara couldn't look back up until she heard a spray of water – a few gleeful shouts – and then the Doctor was gently holding her out in front of him, asking, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Clara replied, bewildered. She looked out after the car that was driving away. She could see exhaust fumes hiding the bright red lights of the car – and with a soft scoffing sound, she said, "Well, that's one reason why I don't like driving."
"They were going to run you over, those damn morons," the Doctor grumbled, starting down the sidewalk. Clara noticed how he was watching her walk next to him – as though he was making sure that she, too, was going to stay on the sidewalk. Clara found this funny – unnecessary, of course – but oddly touching.
"Well, they didn't," Clara said lightly. "Thanks to you." She gestured to the apartment buildings growing in the mist. "Besides, we're almost home." She shot the Doctor a smile. "Mission accomplished."
The Doctor still looked annoyed – his eyebrows were drawn together in that indignant way of his – but at Clara's smile, the tension in his face slowly lessened.
"Mission accomplished," he replied.
A/N - Reviews are appreciated! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not.