Was it really Wednesday already?
The Doctorâs mind was boggled by the fact that in linear, Earth time, that the day he was supposed to see Clara had come around once more. Weeks were strange, and stranger so were the days that were held within them.
So, donning his Caretaker gear (which he thought was silly), the Time Lord landed his TARDIS and popped out of the shed, making his way merrily towards his current companionâs classroom.
Peering in, he saw that she was just finishing up a class, and though heâd interrupted her during a lecture in the past, he decided that it could wait.
âŠExcept waiting was too boring for him and after about a minute he couldnât take it anymore. Busting through the door, the Doctor grinned widely and spread his arms out as he peered at the students and the teacher. âHello!â He cheered, before pointing over at Clara. âYou and me, we have a date, I do believe!â
Whirling in a circle as he made his way over to her, he gently patted a few students on the head as he moved between them. âAre⊠you⊠ready?â Each word was spoken slowly as he took his time to get up within an inch of Claraâs face.
Clara stared. Eyes wide with surprise, yes, but something else. Something... she couldnât quite put her finger on. Or wouldnât. Maybe both were true.Â
In the distance, she could hear the sound of giggling students -- a cacophony of âooohsâ and âahhhsâ and something about bowties. But itâs all drown out by the sound of her own heart beating.Â
Annoyed, yes. That must be the other emotion sheâs feeling (though it doesnât quite match, does it?). Annoyed is par for the course when travelling with the Doctor. Itâs just that usually the excitement of travelling overshadows the annoyance just enough that she canât quite find it in herself to slap him in this face.Â
Not that face, though. She hadnât seen that face since...
âDoctor?â there was a warning tint to her voice, but she couldnât quite find it in herself to scold him. âYouâre here...â
She wanted to wrap him up in a hug. Tell him about all the adventures heâd missed. Tease him about getting old -- did he know? Was this a trick? An app on his sonic? A stick insect disguised as a big old chin?
When had his face gotten so close to hers?
Clearing her throat (and her head, because clearly, that was a thing that needed doing) she put her hands on his shoulders as she leant back just so. Biting her lip, she looked at him a moment longer, the furrow of her brows deepening the longer she looked. This was new.Â
âUh, sorry -- class dismissed, no homework, off you pop -- see you later,â she shooed her students, not actually looking at the clock to see that their lesson was, in fact, complete.Â