Maybe Just One: Secret Santa for Luckyleprechaun (Doctor Who: 12)

[matilda3948]

Happy Christmas Luckyleprechaun I got you in Secret Santa and I'm sooooo happy you requested a 12th Doctor story. I love him so much! I had a great time writing it and I really hope you like reading it.

Maybe Just One

Clara couldn’t take her eyes off the painting in front of her. She and the Doctor were visiting an art museum in New York…in the year 100,000. They were in a room dedicated to three dimensional, sentient artwork—paintings that moved in response to the viewer’s emotional state. A swirling, looping array of blues and greens slowly danced in front of Clara’s eyes as she took a deep breath, a rich purple bubbling up from the center of the canvas as she calmed down even more. They needed a break after a rather impressive run of life-threatening incidents. Even the Doctor seemed tired.

Speaking of the Timelord, he sniffled wetly, breaking her concentration. He’d been doing it off and on all afternoon but it seemed to be picking up in the last hour. She glanced at him first, then at the painting in front of him. It was a spikey mix of stormy dark blues and grays. He sniffed and a ripple of silver flashed across the canvas. Clara dug through her purse and dug a couple tissues out of a travel pack.

“Here,” she said quietly, holding them out to him. The Doctor raised an eyebrow in question. “You keep sniffling,” she said.

“I am not.”

She shrugged and went back to looking at her painting but kept the tissues held out in her left hand. A moment later he silently took them and pressed them to his nose. The painting mirrored Clara’s concern as a ribbon of amber ran around the perimeter of the frame. The Doctor’s head bobbed forward silently and he kept the tissues pressed to his nose. The next time it happened she saw a tremor of energy flash through his painting, almost as if the paint itself had—

“Doctor? Did you just sneeze?” she asked.

He nodded just before shivering with another sneeze, this time a barely audible sigh escaping as he straightened up.

“You catching a cold?” Clara asked.

“I’m fine.” But his consonants were a bit dulled. Clara’s painting was swimming with amber and violet—concern and tenderness mixing and weaving into one another. The Doctor’s painting was entirely different however. The paint seemed to be draining away from the canvas like a whirlpool, pulling everything back like it didn’t want to be seen.

“Want to go to the cafeteria and grab a cup of tea?”

“We’re in New York. Year 100,000 or not, they’ll only have coffee,” he said.

“Pop into the TARDIS and head to 21^st Century London for a cup of tea?” she asked, nudging his shoulder. He grumbled something she couldn’t make out, then quickly turned away from her and pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The painting seized up mirroring the Doctor’s sneeze and then a rosy hue spread over the canvas as if the artwork itself was embarrassed. Clara tilted her head and frowned, thinking back to try and see if the Doctor had shown any sign of feeling ill over the last few days. He was so secretive about so many things she found it hard to pin down the difference between “getting sick” and “normal, everyday grumpy.” She watched his head bob forward once again and made up her mind. “Come on, Doctor,” she said. “TARDIS.”

He considered arguing but the tickle in his nose was really starting to annoy him and he was growing weary of trying to silence his sneezes in the hushed museum. Truth be told, he was feeling just plain weary. Clara was leading the way back to the TARDIS and rambling about something they’d seen at the museum that afternoon. He’d been pleased when she suggested something a little less intense; he’d already been feeling the start of a cold for several days but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to suggest a break. The moment the TARDIS doors closed behind them, the Doctor brought his wrist to his nose dampening a wet sneeze.

hhngtSHH!

“Bless you,” Clara said. He nodded and dug a tissue out of his pocket from earlier, barely getting it to his nose in time.

hihsngSHH!

“Bless you, again. Doctor, are—”

“I’m fide,” he cut her off and stormed up the stairs to the console, flipping levers and putting the time machine into the vortex.

“Right,” she said quietly and turned and walked away.

He felt bad almost immediately. Snapping at Clara wasn’t going to make him feel any less ill. The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He might need to apologize—she was doing one of the things with the eyes. A sudden sneeze overtook him without warning and the Doctor sunk down into one of the console chairs.

hhngSHHoo!

Clara rested her palms on the kitchen counter waiting for the water to come to a boil so she could make tea. She reminded herself that he couldn’t help it. The Doctor didn’t do vulnerable or weak—especially this one. If it had been the other one she would have just wrapped him up in a blanket, surrounded him with tea and tissues, and they would have spent a cozy few days napping and watching movies. She tried imagining doing something similar with the Doctor currently sitting in the console room and huffed a small laugh. That would go over like a lead balloon. She heard a sneeze echo down the hallway and squared her shoulders. Grumpy or not, in denial or not, she was Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl, and she would take care of him.

Armed with tea and a box of tissues, Clara reentered the control room.

“Shall I drop you at home then?” the Doctor asked. His voice was beginning to sound hoarse like it was taking extra focus and energy to get the words out.

“Drop me off? Are you daft?” Clara asked. “I’m not leaving you on your own while you’re sick.”

“I am not sick.” His voice cracked mid-sentence and she rolled her eyes, handing him a cup of tea. The Doctor scowled but took a gulp of tea. Clara sighed and put the tissues down next to him before folding her arms across her chest.

“Yes. Yes you are,” she said as gently as possible. “And I’m not sure why you’re being so…so prickly about it.”

“I’m not being prickly,” he mumbled, pulling a tissue from the box and dabbing his nose.

“Mmm...a little prickly.”

hhngtSHH! huhSNCHHoo!

“Bless you,” she said frowning. It seemed as if the cold was thoroughly settled in the Doctor’s head. He was sounding worse by the minute. “Look, I’m not leaving so we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I’m looking after you.”

The corners of the Doctor’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. Clara knew she’d won and relaxed a little, taking a sip of her own tea.

“You have to admit, I make good tea,” she said.

“You do,” he agreed. His posture sagged and he ran a hand over his face, failing to hold back a yawn. “I have conditions,” he said.

“Of course you do,” she sighed.

“None of those ridiculous films where the characters pine over one another for two hours before finally working out their pathetic issues and getting together just before the closing credits.”

“No rom-coms. Got it,” Clara said.

“No—hehihh” His voice hitched suddenly and the Doctor sneezed twice before having a chance to go for the tissues.

hihhNGSHHoo! NKTshhh!

His eyes remained clenched shut, breath coming in quick gasps as he buried his nose in a handful of tissues.

hih ehh…hhhNKSCHHH! ngktSHHH! ehhSNGSHHoo!

“Bless you!”

“Stob id with the eyes,” he said, tissues still pressed to his nose. After blowing his nose several times he leveled Clara with a look that would have been more threatening if his nose wasn’t so pink and irritated. “No more of the eye thing,” he said.

“Alright. No more looking concerned. I will feign disinterest at all times.”

“And absolutely no cuddling, snuggling, embracing, hugging or similar displays.”

“Oh come on! Where’s the fun in that? Everybody needs a cuddle when they’re ill.” The hoarse, throaty cough that came from the Doctor made it hard for Clara to keep up her argument though. “Fine,” she sighed. “But only if you agree no traveling and no working until you’re well and that includes tinkering with things on the TARDIS.”

“But what am I supposed to do all day?”

“Rest. You’re supposed to rest,” she said.

“But—”

“So help me, I will wrap you up in a bear hug right now.” She took a step towards him. He raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine! I give up,” he said.

“Excellent. Now all you need to do is change and we’ll settle in for the evening. I might even make you some soup later if you behave yourself,” she said. The Doctor stood and let Clara take his empty tea cup while he tended to his nose with yet another handful of tissues. He shivered and sniffled wetly. He felt a cool hand reach up and come to rest on his forehead. His eyes shot open but Clara cut him off. “Checking for fever was not on the list of prohibited contact,” she said.

“I’d like to suggest an amendment.”

“Motion denied,” she said. “Incidentally you are a touch warm.” He nodded as if to agree with her but his nose chose that moment to swell with a debilitating itch, making him nearly double over with the rapid sneezes that all seemed to want to rush out at once.

hhNTSCHH! Ntschh! hhgnSHHoo! hhhNKshh! ngktSHHH! heh…hehhSSHHoo!

Clara schooled her features and resisted the urge to rub him on the back. He still had one hand pressing a mess of tissues to his nose, the other leaning up against the side of the TARDIS as if he needed it to keep his balance.

“Bless you, Doctor.”

“Thag you.” He sighed and scrubbed at his nose. He was so tired and the constant sneezing was giving him a headache…and irritating his throat…and making his thoughts slow and jumbled. “Clara?”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe just one hug,” he said quietly.

She leaned up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him. The Doctor sighed and rested his forehead against her shoulder while she slowly carded her fingers through his hair.

“Always. As many hugs as you need,” she said.

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Jus gonna leave this here......

HOLY MOTHER, Clara!!!!

Ahem~ Beautifully done!

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

“Maybe just one hug,” he said quietly.

You captured 12 and Clara perfectly but THIS, this line. I can physically see 12 saying this to her in his pathetic state.

Wonderful job!!

Edited December 15, 2015 by kaze wo hiku

[RiversD]

Ahh, this is brilliant! I loved the sentient artwork idea- both a cool idea in its own right and a well-utilised backdrop to the scene, letting us see the characters emotions near-constantly without it getting forced or clunky. In fact, very nice flow throughout, I thought.

He felt bad almost immediately. Snapping at Clara wasn’t going to make him feel any less ill. The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He might need to apologize—she was doing one of the things with the eyes.

I liked your take on this incarnation of the Doctor, too- not uncaring (very much the reverse), but lacking in cognitive empathy. Not sure how to negotiate this without upsetting either of them. And the battle I saw here between his strong instinct to curl up and isolate his sick self, and his desire to be around Clara and let her be affectionate towards him was very nice.

“Thag you.” He sighed and scrubbed at his nose. He was so tired and the constant sneezing was giving him a headache…and irritating his throat…and making his thoughts slow and jumbled. “Clara?”



“Hmm?”



“Maybe just one hug,” he said quietly.

This was so cute. I need to go find something/someone to hug, now.

[Salamander]

Cute beyond cute. That's 12 all over!

[luckyleprechaun]

OHHH MY GOSH.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY.

First of all, you were the writer! I love your writing so much and got excited before I even started reading.

Second of all, it was Doctor Who. Even though there are only ten days until the Christmas Special (!!!) I've been going through withdrawl already.

Third of all, IT WAS 12. You captured him perfectly!

This was an amazing piece of writing. The paintings were absolutely wonderful, how they reflected his sneezes and... !!! As I said before, Twelve was definitely in character. The whole caretaking bit was marvelous, and somehow you managed to include everything I like in a fic (even some stuff I don't think I put on my sheet xD)

Words cannot reflect how grateful I am and how much I loved this fic.

Thank you!

Edited December 15, 2015 by luckyleprechaun