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“Doctor. I think that flower is giving me a look. If you know what I mean..” Clara tilted her head and adjusted her red computer bag on her shoulder as she stared into what could be considered a face of an extremely oversized peony. Taller than she was and an impossibly deep pink color and rather flirtatious, judging by the way it seemed to keep facing her direction, no matter where she moved around this section.
“Quite probably, possibly- yes it is! Midoran flowers! They have been known to become attracted to humans. Believe there was a whole mad controversy over a man wanting to marry one, centuries back. All over the tabloids. And after being here alone for nearly a thousand years, she’s probably a bit lonely. Or hungry. Either way, don’t get to close, or else you’ll find yourself taking a bath in its spores, which are rather deadly to humans. Or else have your arm pulled off. Carnivorous, you see. So, come along Clara, keep up. Don’t want you lost in the abandoned Midoran greenhouse. Might never find you again.”
The Doctor said all of this rapidly and without even glancing at her, as the massive fern he was currently scanning with the sonic screwdriver hid his head. Clara rolled her eyes and moved closer to him. “Wasn’t exactly complaining about it, was I?” Running off was a certain way to get on the Doctor’s bad side and be forced to endure a week of space shopping malls, beaches and other “safe places". Still, an abandoned greenhouse the size of North America was pretty brilliant so she wasn’t complaining.
As far as she could see, there was a great glass ceiling covering them, sometimes twisting into towers and rotundas. The plants, unattended to for centuries had taken over, grown high to the ceiling, breaking through some panels in their attempts to reach the sun. Vines and ivy covered the walls and hung from the ceiling. The Midoran sun, which seemed as though it was setting eternally, cast the glass room in a warm orange glow. Their footsteps seemed to echo for miles, the only humans on the entire planet. Pretty incredible, it was everything he’d promised her when he’d begged her to come with him.
And highly irritating to her allergies. Soon after they’d arrived, her eyes had begun to itch and water and her nose became stuffed and runny. Thankfully, the Doctor was too preoccupied to notice anything out of the ordinary. Clara made sure to only rub at her eyes and nose when the Doctor was too deep into his explanations and explorations to fuss over her.
How she hated the fussing. The Doctor never stopped fussing over every little thing that happened to her. Every bruise was a possible broken bone. Every cut left her in danger of bleeding out. Every sniffle was a sign of the plague. It was painfully annoying and extremely embarrassing. She was a grown woman and an extremely capable nanny; she could take care of herself and other people on top of that. Time and again, she’d proven herself capable of escaping gunfire or surviving alien prison camps but the Doctor would have none of it. He treated her like a china doll, in danger of breaking at the slightest bump. It was irritating, infantilizing, and embarrassing.
“And, you can see how they used to be native earth species before they interbred with the Midoran planets. Ah, here we go. A common earth Oak tree. Taken from Earth and planted here to continue its legacy. Brilliant, isn’t it. She must be hundreds, nearing thousands of years old” The Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her along to look at an Oak tree that for some reason he found very impressive. She used to tease him about his ability to sometimes be fascinated by the most ordinary things, but now she found it rather endearing. Not that being endeared to him stopped her from winding him up when she felt like it. This time, she kept her mouth shut while the Doctor proceeded to lecture about the history of the Oak tree on earth and in the rest of the universe. At least it kept him distracted from worrying over her.
Then somewhere at the point where she’d completely tuned him out, her nose began to itch badly. Clara quickly moved her hand over her face to pinch it shut. She felt as ridiculous as she figured she looked, so much fuss over something as simple as a sneeze. But this was the Doctor and it was never anything “simple” with him. The tickle started in the back of her throat and she inhaled sharply to try to cut it off; the Doctor hated being interrupted during one of his rants and she was not about to draw attention to herself if she could help it. No good. A sniffle was her last attempt to fight the feeling before cringing as the Doctor licked the tree bark. After a few seconds of holding her breath as the Doctor sniffed a leaf, she couldn’t fight it anymore, the battle had been lost. Clara sneezed.
The sound echoed around the empty room like crack of thunder in a quiet field, causing the Doctor to do his best impression of a spooked cat and nearly toppled into a nearby bush. Normally, the Doctor’s marathons in clumsiness would have sparked a laugh from Clara if she hadn’t been in the middle of round two of violent sneezing. In the meantime, the Doctor righted himself and dashed over to her and… began to hover over her, hands moving as though to grab her shoulders but then deciding against it, or to hold back her hair which… was silly, she was sneezing not vomiting. So he had to settle for wringing them together. “Well, that’s nasty. You alright?”
Clara nodded as best she could in the middle of a sneeze and also tried to shoot him a look that indicated he was being ridiculous trying to ask a sneezing person a question, but it was lost in another sneeze. Another sharp inhale and then she exhaled a sigh of relief the itching in her nose finally seemed to be settled and she blinked blearily at the form in front of her through streaming eyes. “Well, that was miserable. Ugh, now my throat is sore. Bit gross, isn’t it? Suppose I’ve got a bit of hay fev-”
Her words were cut off as the Doctor pressed a handkerchief to her face and then brushed hand against her forehead before moving down to poke at her neck. “Sneezing. Possible sign of a reaction to neurotoxins in the air, there was weed killer used in some form, might be dangerous to humans. Than again-“ His hair brushed against her face as he dropped to one knee to press his ear to her chest, listening for her heartbeat and breathing. Clara frowned but used the handkerchief to clean off her face. If she had to glare at the Doctor, she was at least going to be able to see him flinch. As a nanny, she had one hell of a good glare.
“Then again, a few days ago we were back in France in the 1800’s, the plague was nasty then, didn’t even think that you could catch it. I mean it was really only a pit stop, but viruses are such nasty little buggers and you humans are just so susceptible to everything-“
“Doctor.”
“Or we were out in the cold while in that bunker on Pluto. Should have made you wear another coat. Stopped you from getting too cold.”
“Doctor.”
“Well, whatever it is, we ought to go back to the TARDIS and go have a look in the medical room. Perhaps pop back to earth so you can rest up in your own bed. If you’re still all snotty and sneeze-y after that, to the doctor, a proper needle stabbing tongue swabbing one, we’ll g-“
“Doctor!” Her frustration had swelled to the point of exploding and she roughly shoved him away. “I’m fine. Nothing but fit of hay fever from the flower pollen and it’s nothing to be concerned about. Honestly, do you go bonkers anytime anyone around you sneezes or just me?” Clara’s arms crossed over her chest, the usual pose she adopted when the Doctor got like this. She’s not being unfair. He’s the one treating her like a child. Anyone would have gone mental on him. At least last time he fussed, it was over being kidnapped. This was a step too far.
The Doctor’s mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly he was trying to choose his words carefully. Before he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “Hay fever? But you’ve… Never seen you. Not like that.”
“Too many plants and a bit of allergies. Don’t you have more important things to be overly concerned about? A space kitten trapped in a space tree? An old lady about to cross the street all alone? Or am I the only one you fuss over? Because I’m always fine. You know that. You’ve seen me escape and outsmart. But you just can’t get over the one time I got put into a prison camp. Or tripped and fell. Or the fact that I’m mildly bothered by plant pollen.” Clara scowled, not pacified by his sudden quietness. She was good. So good. Brilliant and clever and he knew that. But this fussing, treating her like a child… it got to be too much.
“That prison was dangerous! You could have died, Clara.” His voice rose, like it always did when they argued over subjects of danger and fussing. But she didn’t back down, in fact, it incensed her even further..
“But I didn’t. And actually, I managed round up a group and nearly liberate it.” Her voice rose over his, indignant and angry, reverberating in the glass room. “But that’s never what you notice. Just trouble. Just danger. Just poor little Clara who always needs to be rescued-“
“I don’t want to lose you!” The Doctor bellowed so loudly that Clara stepped back in surprise and a few birds squawked and flew from the broken panels on the ceiling. His face was tense and his hands clenched in fists at his side but he didn’t look angry, he looked… afraid, almost vulnerable. She’d seen him look at her that way before, the fear and the loss so deep in his eyes. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at a girl who had been long lost to him. His friend that she sometimes worried she only existed to replace. But somehow, she couldn’t comfort him that he’d never lost her. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she couldn’t force the words to come to her lips. There was something in the back of her mind that made those words seem untrue. Like a door cracked open and letting a bit of light in.
Then the door swung shut again (the Doctor could see the understanding die in her eyes and the look on his face become lost and lonely, but Clara could not understand why) and the moment passed, returning her and the Doctor to their impasse. A huge crevice of misunderstanding that neither of them could cross to reach the other. They stood in deafening silence, both tense, both wanting to reach out but unable to figure out exactly what to say while still saving face.
Clara opened her mouth to say something, but sneezed instead. The Doctor rushed over to steady her and seemed to planning to give her another check over. “Don’t you even start again!” With a huff, the small girl twisted out of his arms and stomped away. However, as she stalked away from him and her stomping faded into lighter footsteps, her anger subsided and she felt a little guilty. Then again, she also felt completely justified. No one deserved to be smothered like that. Perhaps she would go back to the TARDIS. She wasn't foolish enough to wander off just to spite the Doctor. But then again, there was no way the TARDIS would let her in. Clara was starting to think the blue box was still cross with her over the "snog box" comment she'd made on the first night she met the Doctor. Well, perhaps she could apologize and the TARDIS would let her in. Apologizing to her box. Her life really had gone off the rails since meeting the Doctor.
***
However, instead of going all the way back to the TARDIS, Clara stopped and settled herself on a bench on the path she had been walking, sniffling and blowing her nose on the handkerchief the Doctor had shoved on her. Nice of him, really. They’d make up. They always did. But only for a bit. Both of them were too stubborn to actually step down and honestly make bargains. Any agreement was just for show. But that stubbornness was what she knew he admired in her and she always was surprised to find she still had some admiration in her for his gumption. And so they’d find each other eventually, never apologizing, of course but they’d exchange a smile and be on their way again.
Then she heard a rustling in the bushes just beyond her bench. Of course, it’s not a day with the Doctor without something trying to kill you. Clara was starting to get good at that part too. She leaned back in the bench, preparing herself to run for it if something nasty came running at her in the next few seconds. Despite short legs, she was a decent sprinter. The sound got closer. Her muscles ached as she prepared to leap off the bench and spring away. Closer now, whatever it was would be emerging from the bushes any second n-
The Doctor came stumbling out of the bushes, bits of leaves caught in his hair like snowflakes and braches snagging on his long tweed jacket. He looked around, saw her half in action mode, and brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Ah. Hello. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just you know, checking in. Making sure you hadn’t run into any danger. …Not that there’s any danger here, mind you. Just loads of… pollen.” He stared at her a little helplessly, clearly not sure how to proceed in the conversation. Thankfully, Clara was naturally inclined towards deadpan responses to save the conversation.
“So you decided to take a stroll in the plants then?” Her voice was flat and her eyebrows rose so high they were in danger of disappearing into her hairline.
“It was a short cut! Or it was. Got a bit turned around.” He spun around to look back at the shrubbery behind him, brushed leaves out of his hair, then twisted back towards her and she was unable to stop a small grin at his boyish energy. A skip forward and he twisted again to drop down next to her on the bench. There’s a bit of distance left in between them, a sign their argument has yet to be resolved.
“Still you managed to find me. And not end up trapped or chased by something. Definitely a good day for you. Gold star, Doctor.” The grin on her face grew to a smile. There’s had always been energy between her and the Doctor, a natural chemistry, a banter their words, from the moment he showed up on her doorstep dressed as a monk and shouting nonsense. It was hard to stay angry with him when he put on his ridiculously eager face.
“You were easy to find!” And there it was, the posturing that occurred when ever the Doctor felt she was insulting him and he had to defend his pride. His spine straightened and he scowled at her. “I don’t know if you’ve ever listened to yourself sneeze Clara Oswald, but considering your size, you’re very l-“ Her glare cut him off right there. Not that she was really embarrassed about it, but because she enjoyed seeing him squirm a bit. And squirm he did, fixing his bowtie, he coughed and readjusted.
“…Lovely. And dainty. And small. No, I already said that. But it’s true. You are very tiny. It’s good though. More hiding places. And able to fit in vents. Which I’ve never needed before, but I’ve seen films and so I can imagine it comes in handy.” He gave her a weak, desperate sort of grin, and she caved in, scooting closer to him so their shoulders touched and his face immediately brightened. Then it darkened again, like a cloud covering the full moon, and he looked at her seriously and apologetic.
“And I’m sorry. I just… don’t want to see you hurt. There’s only one girl like you in the universe. I searched for you for a long time, too long. And I won’t lose you because I was foolish or selfish. You are brilliant and you are brave. And that’s why you’re here with me and no one else”
“I know,” The response is automatic. She’s frustrated but not petulant and understands why the Doctor is like that. She can get the same with her kids. “But save it for when there’s actually danger, not just a bit of sniffling due to trees. I want to see the universe, Doctor, like you promised me. Not be hidden away from it because there might be a hint of danger. And isn’t that part of the fun, that it’s dangerous?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” The Doctor’s voice was quiet and it was clear his mind was far away. Perhaps to friends that he used to have and were now gone, to the girl she reminded him of. Clara opened her mouth to comfort him (even if she didn’t exactly know what to say she’d be damned if she didn’t try), but then stopped as he turned back to her, a gentle, almost fatherly look on his face. “No more fussing, I promise.”
“And I’ll accept because your sad puppy face is really a downer. And also doesn’t do anything flattering for that chin of yours. Stop it now” A grin and she jabbed her elbow into his side causing him to emit a grumpy noise and then reach out and grab her, forcing her into a one armed hug. Clara rolled her eyes and leaned into it, letting the Doctor press a kiss to her forehead and then rest his head atop her chestnut hair.
“You really are the most impossible girl I’ve ever met. And believe me, I have met a lot of women I would call “’Impossible’”
“I take pride in that moniker.”
“Yeah, you would.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, enjoying the warm air of the greenhouse and the soothing rustling of the trees in the gentle wind. Not the adventure she’d been promised, but she could appreciate the quiet slowness all the same. A wind chime tinkled in the distance, a bird sang softly as it built a nest in a tree to their right, lulling both of them into a waking doze. And they sat there like that, in a comfortable silence, until her nose decided it was displeased with the current state and Clara sneezed again. From behind her hands covering her face, she glared at the Doctor, as if daring him to even begin to fuss.
“…Argruimu. That’s Midoran for “bless you’”. Clara blew her nose, causing the Doctor to stop what was clearly going to be an extremely long history on the use of the word and how it related back to how the phrase was used on earth. Dodged a bullet there. Instead he coughed, stood up, and offered her his hand. “Come on now, back to the TARDIS. Not to leave!” He amended quickly. “I bet the old girl can find something for that nose of yours because quite frankly it’s started to be rather distracting. And if there’s anything dangerous out here, you’re going to attract it. Not to mention really quite gross. Ergh, don’t want any of your bogies on me.”
Clara rolled her eyes at his ridiculously over the top grossed out look. Seriously, she wasn’t going to take that from someone who enjoyed eating bark and licking floors. But grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and felt a little pleased with herself when he beamed at that. He turned around and began to pull her back to the TARDIS, her small hand still clutched in his larger one.
“Doctor, you’re still holding my hand.”
“Yes, I am,”
“You’re not going to let go and would insist that you make sure I get back to the TARDIS safely, aren’t you.”
“Exactly right Clara Oswald.”
“Oh. Fine. On you go then.”