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Chapter 6

Without even saying goodnight Clara started dragging her exhausted body upstairs. Not only had her boss kept her up all night out of revenge with a policy that was never meant to be urgent – even though Malcolm had praised her for it afterwards – he had also made Clara sit through an entire day at DoSAC and Number 10. She probably would have been more impressed if she hadn't been so damn tired but right now she just couldn't find the enthusiasm to actually enjoy any part of her internship any longer. Even the thought of quitting had crossed her mind a couple of times during the day. Now all Clara wanted was her bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" Malcolm's voice made her stop when she was halfway up the stairs.

After taking a deep breath Clara slowly turned around, trying to glare at him and probably failing because she could hardly keep her eyes open. "To bed," she growled.

"I was thinking we could talk about your first official day of the internship," Malcolm replied, "That was what you wanted, right? To be my intern? Well, I thought you did a pretty good job today and-"

"No," Clara replied, exhaling sharply. She was so done with this entire day that even listening to him was making her head spin. She didn't even care that she was raising her voice, "I was up all night because you tricked me into thinking I had work to do. I don't want to talk, I don't want to listen to you talk, I just want to sleep!"

Clara regretted the words as soon as she had shouted them at Malcolm. She was absolutely aware that that wasn't the way to talk to her boss, that she had probably made him angry but she was just so tired that the next words coming out of his mouth would make her snap entirely. So before that could happen she simply turned back around and headed upstairs, closing the door of the guest bedroom behind her.

She had overstepped a boundary, Clara knew that as soon as she sank down on the bed, but right now she was even too tired to go back downstairs and apologize. Well, even if that was the end of her internship now, at least Malcolm Tucker had liked her policy. She could put that in her future applications once she was done with university. Clara scoffed at the thought of how much of a mess this entire internship was and rolled on her side before falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

No one was allowed to shout at Malcolm Tucker, at least not without being shouted at louder in return. And yet Clara Oswald had done it and he had stood there, slightly baffled at her audacity once more and that was when it had hit him. Clara was definitely the right person for this sort of job. She was sharp, clever and didn't seem to be scared of anything at all. And she was also mad at him. Maybe even mad enough to quit the internship. Malcolm reasoned that he had to do something to keep her for the upcoming three months and, who knew, maybe get her back as soon as she had finished her university degree if she survived the entire internship.

The next morning Malcolm woke up a little earlier and went downstairs to do something he hadn't done in a very, very long time, especially not for two: make breakfast. He was so determined to make Clara stay that he went all out. He prepared both tea and coffee, not really sure which one of those she liked, he boiled some eggs, fried bacon and placed some slices of toast in the toaster. If anyone knew just what lengths he went to to soften Clara's mood he would never be able to show his face anywhere ever again. That cunt Ollie Reeder would never stop laughing for the rest of his life. However when Malcolm opened the fridge to add some fresh fruits to the breakfast menu he let out a series of curse words when he realized he had forgotten to go shopping.

What did that fridge do to you?" a voice behind him asked and when Malcolm turned around he spotted Clara standing in his kitchen, already dressed for the day. She didn't look as tired anymore and Malcolm realized for the first time how right Ollie had been with his remark about her being pretty. He hardly ever paid attention to the way women looked like and why would he? As if his job would leave him time for any kind of love or sex life.

"The fridge is fucking empty, that's what it's done to me," Malcolm cracked a smile, but Clara's face remained cold even at his attempt of a joke. So he decided it was time to change the topic. "Anyway, I made breakfast. Come and sit!"

Malcolm gestured for her to sit down and Clara did so only reluctantly while he switched on the toaster.

"Why?" she asked warily, "I thought you said you didn't eat breakfast at home."

He sank down on the seat across the table and looked straight at her. "I did it so we could talk about your internship."

"Right," Clara snorted, "Is that the point where you tell me I still have to prove myself or where you tell me it's just not working out and I need to leave?"

"Not at all," Malcolm leaned back in his chair, "This is the point where I'm telling you that you have a lot of potential. That little trick I played on you showed me exactly what I needed to see: you're not afraid of a challenge, you have a knack for politics and writing and you are so determined that you worked through the night and still went to the office with me the next day. And you did that as a fucking intern with lousy pay. If only all those morons that call themselves MPs were like that. I want you to do this internship and I want you to be good at it. Do you?"

Clara looked at him for a moment and Malcolm swore he could see a hint of pride on her face. She was probably loving his praise right now. Finally, after making him wait, a smile spread over her face.

"Alright," Clara agreed.

Malcolm frowned at her, only to see her roll her eyes as an answer.

"Yes, yes, I do. I do want that internship," she admitted, "And I want to be good at it."

"Good choice," he said and offered her a slice of toast that had just popped out of the toaster. Clara accepted it with a thank you.

"You know, I threatened Ollie yesterday to have you replace him," Malcolm threw in after they had taken their first few bites.

Clara chuckled. "How did he take it?"

"Not seriously, that's for fucking sure. He doesn't know how that works."

"Do you always swear so much?" she asked him once more.

Malcolm laughed in reply. Oh, she would learn soon enough. "I give you a month on this job and you'll be swearing like a sailor, too. Swearing and threats of violence, that's the only two languages those fuckers understand."

Clara smiled at him and took a sip from her mug. Malcolm had three months to train her. Three months and they could become the best fucking team this country had seen in an very long time.