Work Text:
“Why is it so cold in here? Can’t you turn up the heating?” Clara asked, shivering slightly in the bracing winter air.
“It’s an early model gas heater. If I sonic it, it’ll explode. Probably. I’m not a hundred percent sure about that. But if being engulfed in flames is an acceptable way of getting warm then I can give it a try.” The Doctor answered.
“No. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She replied, faintly horrified at the thought. The Doctor nodded, before launching into an exposition on the history of heaters, culminating in the happy announcement that the earlier gas models used asbestos in the heating element.
“Asbestos?” Clara squeaked out.
“It’s probably safe.” The Doctor told her, sounding far too nonchalant for Clara’s liking.
“It’s asbestos.” She exclaimed, terrified.
“And it’s probably safe.” The Doctor repeated himself emphatically.
“Turn it off. Get rid of it. I don’t want to be in the same room as it. Is it just me or is it getting hard to breathe in here?” Clara said, that awful icy feeling of fear clawing at her chest.
“Turn it up, turn it off, make up your mind Clara. You’re very confusing.” The Doctor complained as he obligingly switched it off. The residual warmth in room quickly evaporated, leaving behind a gnawing chill.
“Why are you shaking like that?” The Doctor asked her after a few minutes.
“I’m cold. This is what humans do when they’re cold.” Clara replied, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Well then why did you ask me to turn the heater off if you were going to be cold?” He asked, confused.
“Because it contains asbestos.” Clara fired back.
The Doctor stared at her for a long moment, then with a loud sigh and rolling of his eyes he removed his coat.
“Here. Put this on.” He said, holding it out towards her.
“Won’t you be cold?” Clara asked, through chattering teeth.
“No, I’m a Time Lord. It’ll take more than a 19th century english winter to break me.” The Doctor replied.
“It’s just that the last time we were in past england, you ended up stealing clothes from a homeless man because you were so cold.” She pointed out.
“Yes, yes, but I was freshly regenerated then. You try maintaining your body temperature when you’re in the same condition, biologically, as a newborn baby.” The Doctor retorted impatiently.
“Come on, put it on before you freeze.” He shook the coat in front of him until she walked over and turned, allowing him to help her into it.
“It’s huge.” Clara exclaimed, as the fabric hung from her slender frame, sleeves falling well beyond her hands and shoulders sitting almost as close to her elbows as it was from where they were supposed to be. She twirled, like she would in a floaty dress, but the material was too heavy to spread out like she wanted it to.
“It’s not huge, you’re just tiny.” The Doctor said, drawing a line from the top her head to his chin with his hand.
“That’s a head. A whole head. My whole head! You’re practically an ant.” He exclaimed loudly.
“Oi! Rude! I’m nothing like an ant.”
“No, I can’t imagine you following a trail in a circle until you die.” He said, making circles and wavy gestures with his hands. Clara was completely lost.
“Uh, thanks?” She replied, not quite sure that it even had been a compliment. Flicking the bottom corners of the coat back, she stuck her hands in her pockets so that the red lining was showing.
“Oh, I see why you do this now. It feels cool.” Clara said, sashaying around the room.
“I do my little turn on the catwalk.” She added, striking a pose and pouting. The Doctor just stared at her looking mildly horrified.
“Nothing? Really?”
“You look tired. Are you tired?” He asked suddenly. It caught her off guard. She’d been aiming for playfully sexy but as soon as he said the word it hit her just how exhausted she was.
“Actually I am, yeah.” She replied. The Doctor nodded.
“Well off you go to sleep then. I’ll keep watch and make sure nothing nasty happens.” He waved his hands trying to shoo her away.
“Please don’t say things like that. Now I’m guaranteed to wake up with a blood sucking alien with pointy needle teeth standing over me ready to bite.” Clara said with a shudder.
“That’s vampires. You just described vampires.” The Doctor pointed out.
“Well protect me from vampires then.” Clara replied, curling herself up in the armchair in the corner since someone forgot to specify that they wanted a room with a bed.
“No vampires will sate themselves on your metallic human blood.” He replied solemnly.
“That a promise?” She asked, only half joking as she settled herself down into the huge chair. The springs had long gone and she sank down deep into the cushion. It was oddly comforting, as though the chair was hugging her.
“Of course it’s a promise. No vampire worth their fangs is going to go after a human when there’s a time lord in the vicinity. I’m much tastier than you. And I smell great.”
“Yes, you’re irresistible.” It was supposed to sarcastic but she could tell by the way the Doctor’s eyes widened in a brief moment of panic that it hadn’t come out the way she intended. The Doctor tried to splutter some kind of respond but couldn’t string words together in a meaningful fashion.
“Goodnight, Doctor.” Clara said, smiling over at him before snuggling into the warmth of the chair and the Doctor’s coat. The coat which did smell pretty good, she had to admit.
“Goodnight Clara.”
~~~
She woke up in the morning with a painful kink in her neck and legs so stiff she wasn’t sure she’d ever walk again. As she stretched, groaning in agony as the muscles in her neck screamed in protest, there was a blur of activity on the floor in the centre of the room. The Doctor leaped from the floor as though it was lava and tried to pretend he hadn’t just smoothed the corner of the rug down with his foot.
“You were so cold.” She said, smiling.
“I wasn’t. I was doing tests.” The Doctor shook his head.
“Oh? What kind of tests?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“Very important, very secret tests.” He replied defensively. Clara’s grin broadened.
“You should have said something, I wouldn’t have accepted your coat if I knew you were going to be cold.” She said, knowing it was hopeless. He was too stubborn to admit that he might be...well, not human, but an emotional being with feelings and needs.
“Exactly.” If she thought about it, perhaps she would have realised what he was really saying. But it was early and she was hungry and not in the right frame of mind to examine that maybe she was just as stubborn, just as willing to sacrifice her own needs for his as he was for her.
“You are incorrigible.” She replied instead, getting to her feet and jogging on the spot to work out the stiffness in her knees. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”