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Clara is showering.
This isn’t unusual. In fact, this is a very frequent occurrence, especially since she’s joined the TARDIS full time and has been having continual adventures with him through all of time and space.
Normally he doesn’t mind Clara showering because, quite frankly, 99% of the time they return from an adventure she’s either covered in something that no living person should be covered in, or there’s the faint odour of human sweat that make his nose twitch every time he smells it. (It’s not a bad smell, it’s just, it’s not Clara’s normal scent and it throws him off a bit.)
So, Clara is currently showering in an attempt to remove that last of the grime she’s acquired from a delightful alien on Fortax 7 (lovely fellow, slightly too handsy for either of them to feel entirely comfortable around…)
In any case, the Doctor is bored. Boredom is not a good thing. It is entirely unnecessary and must be avoided at all cost. Unfortunately, he quickly discovers that all the required repairs are up to date and all the unrequired repairs are in the same state.
Except one.
Well, it has been 1200 years or so since he had a go at fixing it last.
And so the Doctor sets out in an attempt to the repair the chameleon circuit. The TARDIS doesn’t offer any helpful information, as she rarely does when it comes to this particular matter. The Doctor’s not sure if that’s because she doesn’t know how to sort it and stubbornly refuses to admit it, or that she rather likes being disguised as a police box. Either way, his attempts will probably be in vein but there’s no reason he can’t try.
Maybe, he thinks, if he gets it sorted, he can surprise Clara by turning the TARDIS into a school, or a Starbucks, or an elephant.
He’s managed to find a circuit room right at the end of a corridor that he hasn’t found before. There are a few mismatched wires that the Doctor scans with the sonic, and then fiddles with; only receiving a small electric shock for his actions.
He sorts the wires into something resembling a working order after a few careful minutes. He moves them all to the side, revealing a large and more easily reachable working space within the small cupboard in which he’s found himself. There’s a panel at the back of the box, just large enough for him to be able to walk through if he needed to.
The Doctor briefly considers the idea that the broken part of the chameleon circuit lies behind the panel and he reaches forward to unlatch the small bolt that is seemingly keeping it closed.
He faintly hears the water stop in Clara’s bathroom, and wonders just how close this circuit room is to her bedroom.
He shrugs and twists his wrist, turning the bolt and opening the panel. He steps though it carefully, looks up and…
Well, he thinks to himself, that’s that answered then.
It turns out that the circuit room is extremely close to Clara’s bedroom.
So close, in fact, that it appears to be inside Clara’s room.
Her wardrobe precisely.
The wardrobe she is currently standing in front of.
Naked.
There’s a scream, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s himself or his companion that makes the noise.
“C-Clara?”
When he finally finds his voice he can do nothing but whimper her name and stare. He’s well aware that she’s naked but he’s pretty sure he’s frozen in absolute horror. This is not, he thinks as his brains slowly ticks over, what was supposed to happen…
“WHAT THE HELL DOCTOR?! CLOSE YOUR EYES!”
He does so out of instinct, but then hears Clara shout and opens them again. She’s covering herself with her hands (barely) and staring at him, a furious expression on her face.
“What’s the matter?” He asks, because surely there’s an issue if she’s still standing in front of him mostly naked.
He tries not to notice how her hair is damp and how a small droplet of water trickles down the side of her neck to run down her collarbone. Nope, he tries not to notice those things at all. Because that’s not productive, just incredibly distracting… (Especially when the droplet of water leaves her collarbone and runs down her breastbone towards her… yes, well, enough of that…)
“What’s the…? What’s the matter Doctor?! YOU ARE IN MY WARDROBE AND I AM NAKED!”
“I’m well aware of that fact Clara. But you’re facing a wardrobe, why are you still naked?”
He makes it sound like it’s the most obvious question in the world. Which it is. Obviously.
Clearly Clara doesn’t think the same because she still looks furious at him.
“I can’t find any clothes with you just standing there staring. Get out!”
“Yes, right, yes. I can do that.”
He looks behind him. Oh. He can’t do that. He looks back.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” She’s practically whining now from her clear distress at still being (mostly) naked.
“The panel’s shut itself. It’s locked me out.”
Clara growls at him, honest to goodness growls at him before sighing in frustration at glaring in his general direction.
“Oh honestly,” Clara mutters then, still attempting to cover herself, (and failing miserably he thinks. He keeps this to himself however…) “either find me a towel or give me your bloody coat.”
The Doctor manages to snap out of his horrified state and complies, shrugging off his coat and stepping timidly out of the wardrobe to hand it to her. Clara continues to stare at him.
“I’m not moving my hands,” she confirms, tone slightly sharp. “You’re going to have to put it on me.”
“Right. Of course.”
The Doctor reaches out and carefully places his coat over her shoulders. He glides his fingers down the front and works a couple of buttons closed to try and hide a bit of her modesty. All he really gets is a bit more of an unintended eyeful and a squeak from Clara as the back of his fingers brush over her collar.
He takes a tiny step back and waits. Just watching, not moving. He thinks she looks quite good in his coat. It’s a bit big, but still…
“Doctor?” Clara sounds impatient again.
“Hmm?”
“I know you’ve already had a bit of a show, but could you maybe turn around?” An exasperated sigh.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.”
He turns around, facing the wardrobe she’d just been looking into. The whole situation’s a bit farcical, and he replays the whole thing back in his mind as he vaguely listens to Clara opening and shutting drawers in her room behind him.
There’s an awkward silence between the two of them for a few drawn out minutes, but eventually Clara coughs and mutters that he can finally turn around.
He turns, notes that she’s no longer naked and just makes a bolt for the control room.
“What were you trying to do anyway?”
It’s a few minutes later and Clara moves to stand next to him next to the console. She’s now completely dressed, wearing a much more presentable ensemble of black leggings, ankle boots and a deep blue jumper. She’s still wearing his coat though, but he doesn’t have the heart to ask for it back quite yet. Plus, she really does look good in it…
“I was trying to fix the chameleon circuit,” he explains quietly, shuffling himself out of her way and heading towards the kitchen to make a cup of well-earned tea.
“I see.” There’s a slight pause before Clara speaks again, a teasing tone evident in her voice as she follows him down the quiet TARDIS corridor. “Maybe don’t touch it again okay? Just leave it be; I can’t imagine many people will be as accommodating as me to finding you in their wardrobe.”
He bites back a comment that she wasn’t exactly accommodating. Instead, he goes for a noncommittal hum and an offer of a chocolate biscuit while he digs out the tea bags.
“Y’know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked,” Clara states out of the blue, reaching up and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. His cheek that is suddenly feeling very warm and flushed; as if he’s blushing. (This is frankly ridiculous because Time Lords certainly don’t blush from a mere peck on the cheek.)
“Noted,” the Doctor says, smiling weakly at her. He’s not entirely sure if she’s serious, but that’s probably a question better left for another day.
“Anything’s better than being a peeping Tom in my wardrobe anyway…”
Oh honestly, he’s never going to live this down is he?