A/N: Omg I love Clara and The Doctor so much I can't breathe so here is a collection of oneshots which you WILL love because they're so fluffy and sweet (like a souffle, coincidentally) and plotless. THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM.
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One Week Is Too Long
In which Clara wants a break for a week, but the Doctor is having none of it.
"It's just a week, Doctor. One week. I'll be back before you know it!"
Clara Oswald was dashing about her bedroom in the TARDIS, grabbing odd items of clothing and the odd essential and throwing them into an open suitcase on her bed- albeit, a lot slower than she planned due to the jabbering Timelord which kept blocking her path.
"Is this really necessary, though, Clara?" he kept asking her this, over and over again while she never gave him a straight answer. "Is it? Really?"
Clara rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile to herself. Just a little. "No. I don't suppose it is."
"Stay, then!" the Doctor answered conclusively, throwing his hands up in the air for added emphasis. "Put all this stuff back and we can go somewhere interesting!"
Clara span round, clamping her hands on the Doctor's shoulders. She gave him a little wink- his mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise. "Now, wouldn't you like that? I'm afraid I'm not that easy, Doctor."
The Doctor got all flabbergasted. "Yes! Wait, no… Shut up!"
Oh, she did love making him blush. Part of the reasons why she travelled with this crazy madman- he was so easy to embarrass. He clearly wasn't used to having someone who could make wittier remarks than he could.
Clara grinned, letting go of his shoulders and back to the job she set out to do. A couple of books from the shelf beside her bed flew into the open bag. "Now, do you mind? I think I've got some packing to do."
"What for, though?" the Doctor queried. He sat on her bed, crossed legged, following her slim, petite body as she danced across the room. "Why do you need to go?"
"…Just need to think a few things through." she decided to respond with, which the Doctor was entirely happy with. "A bit of time to myself. I did have a life before you, you know!"
The Doctor groaned, tugging on her sleeve like a petulant little kid. "But Clara! You can think about things here! I think about you all the time!" he quickly and hurriedly corrected himself, "Things! I think about things all the time. Not you. Although, I do think about you. Not in a creepy way, no… In a nice way. Normal way."
Clara smirked, not entirely convinced. Oh, that man. She'd never met anyone like him. Anyone so devoted to her. "Okay… Maybe a bit of space would do us good. Just a break. Then we can travel again! Alright?"
"But I don't need a break!" the Doctor continued to counter, to Clara's annoyance. Okay, she admitted, she did quite enjoy having a man so infatuated with her he couldn't stand her leaving… Who wouldn't? But sometimes, you have to draw a line. "I've done the travelling alone thing before, Clara. And I don't intend to go back to that. That life."
Clara picked up a cushion from her dressing table chair and threw it at him, causing him to topple off the bed in surprise. She couldn't help but laugh as his mop of dark, scruffy hair appeared at the other side of the bed, a less than happy expression on his face. Oh, that chin. "Hey! What was that for?"
"Don't be so melodramatic, you fool!" Clara exclaimed, wandering over to the bed and grabbing onto his hands; pulling on them so that he was off the floor and back onto the sheets. "I'm going away for one week, not forever! Don't try and play the I'm-a-thousand-years-old-and-I've-had-such-a-tough-life card on me, mister, 'cause it won't work."
The Doctor folded his arms and scowled, backing up against the headboard.
"Sulking now, are we?" Clara pouted, clambering onto the bed so that they were face-to-face. "For someone who claims to be one thousand years old, you aren't half mature."
The Doctor instantly straightened his face so that it was of a more neutral expression. He purposely looked away from Clara's face (oh, she looked so pretty when she was being all sassy) and put on the air of someone who wasn't at all bothered. Clara didn't fall for it. He kept sneaking glances back at her sly smirking face- he couldn't seem to stop himself. "Fine then. You go. See if I care- I'll have a great time. Without you. I'll incinerate all the pears you've brought in here. Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Can't say I'm entirely bothered, to be honest."
"I'll… I'll mismatch all your leftover socks so you've only got odd pairs! Ha!"
Clara shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever."
The Doctor was beginning to run out of ideas. It was showing on his face. "I've got it! I'll go to the best soufflé kitchen in the universe on my own and make soufflés. Hmm… I love soufflés. You like soufflés, don't you, Clara?"
Clara arched an eyebrow sceptically. "You wouldn't."
The Doctor arched his eyebrow, mimicking Clara. He leaned in a bit further. "Wouldn't I?"
Clara shook her head firmly. "No, you wouldn't."
The Doctor sighed, leaning back again so that his head was against the headboard. "No, I probably wouldn't. No fun without you."
Clara grinned. She'd won, yet again. "Correct answer, chin boy. Now won't you let me pack in peace? Thanking you."
Clara continued to glance around the bedroom, ignoring the crescendo of sighs coming from the Doctor which seemed to get louder and louder the more she ignored him. Seriously? She was meant to believe he was a thousand years of age? More ten. Perhaps younger.
It was when he got to his loudest sigh (that sounded almost a plane crashing or the TARDIS when it was landing) that she abandoned the packing for the second time, pouncing onto the bed and making the mattress shake with her sudden weight.
She crawled over to the Doctor so that her body was directly on top of his- and he looked pretty surprised about it.
"Clara?" he squeaked.
Well, you better enjoy this.
She pressed her lips, hard, colliding with his. At first he awkwardly shuffled, murmuring as she abruptly committed this intimate action with him. Her hands were pushing hard onto his shoulders and the bed was moving against the wall. Then he began to settle, enjoying it…
Then she retracted. A little breathless but thoroughly fulfilled. "Will that shut you up?"
She grinned as he just laid there, his mouth moving but no words appearing to come out of it. She'd made him speechless. "Good. Now, if you let me leave, there might be a bit more where that came from."
He nodded, still slightly dazed. "That's f… Fine by me! Absolutely fine. Spiffing."
She fastened her suitcase together, satisfied that she had enough to be going along with. "Well, if you drop me off, I'll… Wait a minute."
The Doctor sat up, still recovering but pretty much okay now. "What is it?"
"…This is a time machine."
"So you could drop me off, switch a few levers, pick me up- it'd be a week later for me but just a few minutes for you."
A gradual smile took over the Doctor's features. "Yeah…"
Clara narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. She threw another cushion at him.
Maybe he wasn't as stupid as she'd thought.