Thanks so much for all your patient waiting, and your really encouraging reviews! You guys are really great :)
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The next day the Doctor joins them for breakfast in the kitchen. Clara is as surprised as River is to see him, wandering in with his fair all askew and exclaiming over the pile of waffles she and Clara are slowly working their way through.
"Wait!" Clara says, holding up her hand to stop him as he reaches for the waffles with a pair of metal chopsticks, of all things.
He freezes, chopsticks gaping open in his hand.
"If you're going to ruin our breakfast whining about the Tardis, you're going to have to take your waffles elsewhere."
River hides a smile behind the rim of her tea mug
"I have not been whining!"
"Ha!" River scoffs, loudly, not looking up as she takes a drink of her tea.
"That's right," agrees Clara, "You've been unbearable, all week."
He stares between them, looking put-out, "Well, so sorry, but in case you hadn't noticed we are currently stranded, in deep space, in a space ship that refuses to move!"
"And you've been whining like a two year old about that for six days straight."
He pouts, says, "fine," and spears one of the waffles with both of his chopsticks, collapsing grumpily into the seat next to Clara.
He takes a large bite, his face switching from noble martyr to elation in an instant, "There's chocolate in this waffle!"
"It's a chocolate chip waffle," Clara tells him, chuckling.
He takes another bite, "Where did it come from?"
"Mo made it," Clara says pointedly, "Nice of her to make us breakfast, isn't it?"
"I didn't think I was making him breakfast," she grumbles, "If I knew he was coming I'd have put more effort into burning a few."
The Doctor spears two more waffles, one on each chopstick and alternates between the two, humming happily.
"How can something so delicious come from such a bitter person?" he asks, philosophically, around a mouthful of waffle.
The next morning she makes apple cinnamon waffles. Clara loves them, which is nice. The Doctor violently spits them out and runs to the sink to rinse his mouth, which is even better.
He slumps out of the kitchen in a huff, Clara trailing after him with a waffle in her hand telling him he's being a child and "really Doctor, you can't blame Mo, who doesn't like apples?"
A short time later, as she's still snickering to herself and mucking up partially-chewed apple waffles from the table-top, she feels the unmistakable tremor of the Tardis in flight.
She freezes, startled and suddenly worried. It hasn't been enough time. She isn't done yet, hasn't even managed to retrieve her hidden duffel from behind the desk in the library. If the Tardis lets him fly them back to Clara's house now, she'll have to leave very nearly empty handed.
She takes a moment to calm her breathing and pull herself back into character. Mo would be happy. Mo would want to be leaving.
By the time she finds them in the console room, she can feel that they've landed, and she's fixed a bright, hopeful expression on her face.
"Are we home?" she asks eagerly, walking into the console room, "We moved, didn't we? It felt like we moved. Sort of."
"Yes! We did move!" answers the Doctor, happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "she's decided to fly again!"
Her heart sinks, "Great! I'll just have to grad my things real quick." She has to get that duffel. It's better than nothing, hopefully she's gathered enough for Doctor Reed to cobble together some kind of treatment.
"Well," says Clara, "actually…" she's looking at the Doctor pointedly, arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the console.
"You might not want to get off here." The Doctor tells her, clasping and un-clasping his hands in front of him as he evades eye contact.
"Why?" she asks him slowly, suddenly hopeful.
"Well, she doesn't seem to want to let us land in Clara's backyard. Or in the year 2013. Or anywhere particularly close to either Clara's backyard or the year 2013."
"What?" She's so relieved she wants to kiss the nearest bit of the Tardis she can reach. Which would be the wall.
"We are definitely closer though!" he says quickly, "Much closer than we were before!"
"How close?"
"Oh….just a galaxy and few hundred years away. Not much, really, in the grand scheme of things. Practically right next door!"
"And that's as close as you can get us to home?"
"At the moment….yes."
She very nearly does kiss the wall then. She should have known the Tardis would take care of them.
"Well," she manages, working to keep a laugh of relief out of her voice, "That's unfortunate."
Clara is looking at her funny, her eyes a little narrowed, but she shakes her head and turns back to the Doctor, "So other than not being in my backyard, where are we exactly?"
"A lovely little planet called Asgard!"
River bites her lip, hard. Suddenly kissing the wall isn't nearly so appealing.
Really?