*A/N: I have no idea how to bake so I decided to write the aftermath of Clara's soufflé making. Also, I missed the prompt for Day 3 so I tried my best to combine Day 3 and 4. (I hope it's not awkward but either way WHOUFFLE!)
Day Three: Baking + Day Four: Sexual Tension
A million emotions pumped through her veins. Shock, confusion, doubt, pride, relief, puzzlement, excitement and joy. "Oh my stars . . . I've done it. I've actually properly done it."
"Get in here now!" she screeched giddily. "Come on quickly - I've done it!"
"I can't believe it," she murmured to herself. After all her years of failures she hadn't given up. Sometimes people questioned why she persisted the craft she'd been infamously known for but she had determinedly ignored them or aggressively forced them to shut up; because she knew she would get there in the end. "I got it right. I am Soufflé Girl."
The Doctor made a mad dash from the console room - where he'd been fiddling with some settings that really didn't need fiddling with - into the kitchen. Had Clara finally set the place on fire? There'd been a lot of near misses. So many that the Doctor had taken to not leaving her side as she 'baked'. But after several smoke free attempts he thought he could probably risk leaving her to bake alone for once. Won't be doing that again, he thought to himself, expecting to see the short brunette in a coughing fit and covered in soot. He was pleasantly surprised to see Clara beaming up at him from the counter with a perfect looking soufflé in front of her.
She giggled, still giddy with the thrill of finally making her mum's soufflé successfully.
"You did it!" he proclaimed, shock evident in his voice underneath how happy he was for his companion (and relief that she hadn't actually burned down the kitchen).
"I know! I can't believe it either."
"'Ey I never said I didn't believe it. I knew you had it in you," he lied with a wink.
"Liar liar the TARDIS didn't catch fire," she sang enthusiastically, too happy to be grumpy.
The Doctor couldn't help but laugh with her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you," he admitted. He strode over to her, subconsciously leaving as little space as he physically could without touching her as he always did. "You will never stop being impossible," he mused, giving her a warm smile.
Clara grinned, jumping on her toes and leaping to pull him into a hug.
He smiled sheepishly as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and accepted her embrace. "So should we dig in, then?"
She twisted out of the hug to reach for forks from the drawer before stopping abruptly mid-motion. "No! Picture first," she said, shoving him in the arm to get a move on. "Go get the camera! I mightn't remember how to do this ever again."
The Doctor let her push him out the door, his arms flailing instinctively. "Oi just because you can bake now doesn't mean you can suddenly boss me around."
Clara glared for a mere second before the Doctor grew flustered. "Nevermind," he mumbled, darting off to fetch a camera for her.
Determined to get back before the soufflé had the chance to randomly burst into flames he rushed to the control room, snatching a retro camera from beneath the console. The last time he'd used it had been taking snapshots every couple thousand - million? Years got quite blurred when you'd been alive for over a thousand of them - years when he and Clara had gone looking for ghosts. Her hair had been in perfect thick curls and she was wearing a short blue dress with white spots. He couldn't help but smile when he spotted her underneath his bright red umbrella. Of course he had to crouch down in order to fit with her but he hadn't minded much at all.
He smiled at the memory, shaking his head to remind himself that the same Clara was waiting for him in the console room with her precious soufflé. The Doctor marched quickly back through the corridors to the kitchen Clara had adopted as her kitchen to which he hadn't objected. He was glad she had actually as it confirmed any doubt he had of her getting fed up of him anytime soon.
"I've got the camera!" he announced cheerfully, holding it high above his head. Clara clapped her hands like a child who had managed to wake her parents up on Christmas morning. She went to stand behind her masterpiece, her 'cheese' face at the ready when she recognised the camera. "It's a love story!" she blurted.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow with a mildly flabbergasted expression. "Ey? W-what is?"
"The camera. That's when you used it," she explained. Clara understood why it may have seen a bit random. It was just random trivia. But it was so often that he showed something to Clara that he had an amazing story about, that she wasn't there for. It was nice to see things that he could maybe associate with her.
He gave Clara a warm smile. "Yes it is. Now, say 'cheese'!"
She gave a thumbs up and beamed a long, "Cheese." with a cheesy grin to match.
The camera gave a mildly blinding flash. "Beautiful. Now," he said, giving the camera a light tap, "You can have that picture to brag to all your friends with. But I think I'll take one for myself." Clara raised an eyebrow and watched in mild puzzlement as he reached for a panel to the side of the fridge. She'd seen it a lot but opted not to touch it in case it ended in flames. The Doctor tapped it several times, presumably pressing touch screen buttons. He gave a satisfied smirk and pulled the panel outward.
"What are you doing?"
Showing off. "Just pulling in the local resources," he answered casually.
The corner of Clara's lips twitched up in a near-smirk as her eyes moved to take a closer look at the small screen. "Oh. It's a fancy camera?" she guessed.
"It is now. Multi purpose, multi dimensional eh - it's complicated." He finished abruptly upon noticing Clara's pleading expression out of the corner of his eye. Right, no techno-talk, he noted. The Doctor twirled round and hopped delicately - not wanting the soufflé to fall behind Clara. With the counter being quite low, Clara was bent slightly over it, leaning her casually crossed arms atop. He put his arm around her petite body, his hand firmly positioned below her shoulder with his thumb subconsciously moving back and forth, tracing an invisible line on the thin fabric of her shirt. The Doctor was standing behind her, with his feet pointed towards his Clara and his body tilted towards hers. She bit her lip, trying her best to disguise a continually growing grin.
"Now smile!" he encouraged, his own smile audible. Clara retracted her teeth from her lip to allow the withheld grin to finally bloom and tilted her head toward the Doctor, letting it rest against his shoulder. The Doctor glanced down at her with a sheepish smile. He didn't know why he was always so happy when she initiated contact, even when it was as small as that but it did. The Doctor had given up asking why a long time ago, after the best answer he could come across just made his hearts clench. He couldn't love Clara because he knew she wouldn't love him. Why would Clara ever go for a barmy old man like him?
She noticed the brief shift of his gaze, felt his chin gently prod her head. Clara's grin turned into a small smile as she too looked up to see his big sad eyes. The camera lens shut with a soft 'click' but neither noticed. The Doctor had already looked back down to meet her big brown eyes. He smiled, his free hand giving her cheek a light touch. "You okay?" he asked, his thumb threatening to move to the corner of her soft smiling, tulip shaped mouth.
Clara nodded delicately, careful not to shake his gentle hand from her cheek. Instead she moved her arm which the Doctor still had a grasp on to cup his cheek like he had hers. "Why wouldn't I be?" she asked curiously.
He chuckled, sending vibrations through Clara and causing her to laugh too. "Good point," he said, impulsively leaving a warm kiss on her forehead. A blush rose in Clara's cheeks which was the only thing that reminded the Doctor he needed to actually pull back at some point. He cleared his throat, just noticing how tangled their bodies were. They should play twister sometime, he thought distractedly. Clara hoped he hadn't spotted her lingering gaze on his lips - that wasn't allowed to happen, she reminded herself. Paranoia getting the better of her, she turned her head harshly back to the camera she hadn't been interested in understanding. "Did it take a picture yet?"
The Doctor had forgotten about the reason they were so close together, his mind taking a sharp turn back to reality. "Right!" he boomed, his hands flimsily retracting to his side as he straightened up. God, had he really been thinking about . . . that? The Doctor pranced back around the counter, brushing 'accidentally' against Clara's behind much to his own amusement. He folded the device back into the panelling against the fridge and flicked a few options to get a look at the picture it had taken. He hoped his bowtie had been straight; he couldn't think of anything more humiliating in a photograph.
She followed after him excitedly, her head poking over his shoulder to get a view. He was pleased to see his bowtie was indeed perfectly straight as usual. It showed the two of them with no space between them, even their eyes meeting if not in the physical contact sense. They were both smiling slightly shyly but undeniably happily at one another and Clara couldn't hold back a soft giggle. "It looks very platonic."
He frowned, initially missing her sarcasm. "I suppose you're ri-hey! Was that-that was-it was, wasn't it? That was sarcastic."
Clara raised an eyebrow at him with a pitiful smile. "Nothing gets far past you, Doctor," she commented, reaching on her toes to ruffle his hair. He immediately went to fix it self consciously. "Oh ha ha, very funny," he sighed. "See I can do sarcasm too," the Doctor added proudly.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, grabbing his hand. "We've got a masterpiece to eat," Clara explained, hurrying back to the counter. The Doctor grinned at her from behind as he sat himself down. She'd been about to join him when she remembered, "The forks," she said quickly, as though she was afraid she'd forget her intentions if she didn't say it fast enough. Clara skipped back to the drawers, pulling open the first one which she knew to contain cutlery. That's odd, she thought. She was sure that's where they always were. She shrugged with a sigh and bent down to scavenge through the lower drawers.
The Doctor grinned cheekily. Nice skirt.
A mass of brown hair whipped round to give the Doctor a playful glare. "Excuse me?"
He closed his eyes in resignation. "I said it aloud, didn't I?"
Crossing her arms, she nodded exaggeratively sternly.
"Sorry," he mumbled, his features blurring in a sea of pink. "Though, I do like the skirt. I admire your fashion sense, Clara. Not too long or . . . loose."
"Digging a bigger hole, Doctor," she giggled, finally standing up with the necessary cutlery in hand.
The Doctor clamped his mouth shut. At least she hadn't slapped him, he considered. She sat down lazily and the Doctor didn't complain that she'd accidentally kicked him. Clara pulled the soufflé towards them and left it comfortably between them while her leg brushed against the Doctor's. Now that she knew what he'd been doing mere moments beforehand she was more determined than usual to tease him.
Was she trying to tease him? he wondered. Two can play at that game, Clara. He hoped. The Doctor casually shuffled his chair closer and his hand wandered to her knee.
Pathetic, she thought cheekily. Clara stuck her fork into the soufflé and licked her lips before taking a first bite. She smiled at the familiarity of the taste. She'd imagined perfecting her mum's soufflé a billion times before but never quite like this. Clara thought she'd have an emotional flashback and shed a private tear but instead she just smiled. After all, the soufflé wasn't the soufflé, the soufflé was the recipe - which she'd been using for years.
The Doctor followed suit as his hand moved further along her leg. Clara felt the tickling movements of his fingers but resisted a reaction and continued eating. He did too, only stopping when he nearly choked after he realised he had reached up her skirt to which Clara had reacted to by - rather harshly - swatting his hand away. He really didn't know how to apologise for that one. To his relief she was biting her lip to suppress a snicker. "Down boy," she said with a wink.
Listen to the woman, he ordered himself.
"That's a different Wednesday," Clara added with a playful grin.
He eyed her suspiciously. "Was that sarcasm again?" he huffed.
She giggled with a shake of her head. "Absolutely not," Clara replied, reaching forward to tie her arms around his neck and tilting her head to collide her lips with his.
The Doctor's limbs flailed much like they had the first time he'd kissed Clara - back when it wasn't really Clara - but this time he was much more prepared. It didn't take long for his hand to be tangled in her hair and for her to have somehow made her way onto his lap. Clara pulled away with a heavy breath and chuckle as she saw the satisfied expression on her Chinboy's face.
He cleared his throat, returning her gaze and his delicate eyebrows quirked up. "Should be a fun Wednesday," he commented cheekily.
*A/N: Hope this is alright! And, also I'm writing this at nearly 2am so I apologise profously for any errors. Please let me know what you think x