Work Text:
Clara slumped into the dressing room chair. Dress rehearsal was tonight - her chance to make sure everything was perfect after a long week of grueling workouts and running choreography. But she was going to savor this quiet moment with her partners as she checked her costume. “Ready to get your ass whipped tonight?”
Ashildr blinked as they realized Clara did not mean in bed. “Oh my god, Creative didn’t tell you? It’s kind of last minute, but they decided to flip the outcome on tomorrow’s match. Hang on, let me pull up the email,” they continued, thumbing through their inbox and forwarding it to the others.
Twenty seconds of frenzied skimming, then: “Wait, you’re going to ‘put me in hospital’?” Clara swore. “That’s going to take me out of the season finale and next season’s opener! Fuck!”
“They want me to get back in the ring?” John added. “I haven’t been the Doctor in years; I’ll need a bloody doctor.”
“They want me to get back in the ring?” River echoed, sounding a little more pleased.
“MILFs are in,” Ashildr said with a shrug. “And I guess Creative finally picked up on your chemistry as ‘rival managers’ and decided they wanted the two of you front and center.”
“Ugh, and I won’t even be able to publicly cheer you on! They’d better have a hell of a comeback arc for me,” Clara grumped.
“We’ll make sure of it,” Ashildr promised. “And anyway,” they waggled their bum enticingly, “my real-life ass is still yours for the real-life whipping.”
“Guess it’s lucky we’ve been keeping up with our cardio, then,” River added with a saucy wink.
“Save some of that for me after I change out of the costume I need to wear tomorrow,” Clara teased. “Come on, babe, let’s go.”