clara oswald (
parallels) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2014-07-27 10:19 am
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Entry tags:
we could have a small reunion
WHO: Clara and the Doctor
WHERE: A Tea shop in downtown.
WHEN: Backdated to last weekend
WHAT: Serious business (kinda).
WARNINGS: None.
Clara gripped the instructions to the shop that the Doctor had given her tightly in her hand as she glanced up to compare what he had drawn to where she was. Of course, the Doctor didn't do written step instructions. That wasn't his style. But for him, these were rather thankfully clear. A cup of tea would do a lot for her, even if it wouldn't be as comfortingly familiar as she would have wanted. Edgeworth's words still echoed in her head.
"You need to manage him"
"He named you as his handler, however you seem uninterested in the role."
Anger and indigence bubbled up inside of her. What did he know of her? Of her role and her abilities? He seemed like a person who made a lot of assumptions about others to protect his own ideas. But the question still remained. What had the Doctor done to instill this concern in Edgeworth? As rude as the man seemed, the concerns he presented seem to have been genuine.
Nearly tripping in her haste to correct her direction to avoid missing the turn, she arrived at the designated destination. And indeed, there was the Doctor, floppy haired and bowtie-dressed, sitting in the outside of a cafe that was shamefully attempting to imitate a European style. He waved her down and she waved back and moved towards him. It was a little bit of deja vu, like the day the spoonheads attacked and they had met in a cafe.
Clara slides into the seat across from and before he can say anything, she cuts him off, "What happened?"
WHERE: A Tea shop in downtown.
WHEN: Backdated to last weekend
WHAT: Serious business (kinda).
WARNINGS: None.
Clara gripped the instructions to the shop that the Doctor had given her tightly in her hand as she glanced up to compare what he had drawn to where she was. Of course, the Doctor didn't do written step instructions. That wasn't his style. But for him, these were rather thankfully clear. A cup of tea would do a lot for her, even if it wouldn't be as comfortingly familiar as she would have wanted. Edgeworth's words still echoed in her head.
"You need to manage him"
"He named you as his handler, however you seem uninterested in the role."
Anger and indigence bubbled up inside of her. What did he know of her? Of her role and her abilities? He seemed like a person who made a lot of assumptions about others to protect his own ideas. But the question still remained. What had the Doctor done to instill this concern in Edgeworth? As rude as the man seemed, the concerns he presented seem to have been genuine.
Nearly tripping in her haste to correct her direction to avoid missing the turn, she arrived at the designated destination. And indeed, there was the Doctor, floppy haired and bowtie-dressed, sitting in the outside of a cafe that was shamefully attempting to imitate a European style. He waved her down and she waved back and moved towards him. It was a little bit of deja vu, like the day the spoonheads attacked and they had met in a cafe.
Clara slides into the seat across from and before he can say anything, she cuts him off, "What happened?"
no subject
The Doctor manages to tug on a smile, fond and accepting, nods gently with the question. His hands clasp together and fall into his lap, and for the moment he thinks feeling like a caught out schoolboy is both appropriate and wildly not.
"I frightened him. Badly. It wasn't... it wasn't good."
Meeting her eye on the last, sheepish and sorry, a vision of 'and isn't that just me all over?'. He'll get to the nitty gritty. First, he needs to manufacture a gentle slope instead of a sudden drop, and he supposes that will have to do.
no subject
When he replies, she sighs through her nose. He can also be frightening. She'll never forget the time he grabbed her and hurled accusations at her that she never could have answered, of things she was completely happened. Another lick of the lips, she replied.
"How?"
no subject
The Doctor stops. Takes a breath, clears his head, one hand lifting up to lay palm flat on the table, fingers spread wide. He stares at it for a long moment or two, trying to decide exactly how to explain, which parts to put where, how much to share. In the end, though, this is Clara. If he's to ask for her help, if he's going to make her responsible for him as he doesn't really have the right to but has managed to anyway, he owes her his total honesty. He doesn't like to keep things from her regardless, but in this case he just doesn't have the room to.
"Miles has an ability that he's currently unable to control. It's capable of causing others short-term emotional distress and it's the sort of thing I'm perfectly equipped to help him with. He'd made plans to run to Canada and spare himself the potential of doing further damage, and I offered my help, but he refused. So I..."
This isn't everything. This isn't the why or the vicious turn his selfishness took. It's an overview, however, and he can go from there. He will, too. He doesn't like the person who surfaced very much and he needs to apologise, needs somebody to understand.
"A friend of mine, Ashraf, he was worried too. And together with him, our abilities meant that we'd be able to help Miles without his having to worry about the chance of hurting us. So we... kidnapped him."
Which sounds like typical Doctor idiocy on the surface of it except there's guilt in his expression as he looks up at Clara, open and imploring, not just the light glint of sheepishness. Because wasn't just a typical bungling Doctor move. It very quickly deteriorated, motivations warping it into something unpleasant and very nearly dangerous, and all that waits yet to be told.
no subject
She inhales and opens her mouth and then pauses, struggling to find the words. Terrible for an English teacher, really. She should always have words. Another exhale before she continues, her voice kind but a little sad. "I can see why he's cross with you. Always trying to control."
no subject
"I could have helped him, Clara. He was just - he was too stubborn. He was scared, that's all, and I could've helped and he wouldn't—" Silence, abrupt, as he clamps down on himself. It was a bit of a jumbled outpouring, but he doesn't try to clarify any of it, looks instead back down at Clara's smaller hand on top of his own, smiles at it with a bit of a huff, laughing at himself.
She's a marvel. Allows him to recognise when he's acting out of turn, when he's done wrong. It's important, vitally so, especially when he's so... when he's so old now. He needs this, this clarifying weight, another person able to put him into perspective. Without opening his mouth to voice it, he thanks his lucky stars that she arrived.
"Ashraf was worried that Miles' power was dangerous, that he was a danger to people, which is why he wanted to work with me to help him get it under control. For Edgeworth's sake and everyone else's. I didn't tell him what the real issue was, of course, or he probably would've let him go on his way a lot sooner than he did. Ashraf's a good man." It's thanks in no small part to him that the Doctor was able to regain enough composure to not - well, to not do whatever he would've done next. If anything. He doesn't know. "I'll introduce you sometime. I think you'd get along."
no subject
The admonishment is light. Like to a child who did wrong because he had the best intentions. Because as pig-headed and wrong as he was, the Doctor cared. He always did. He cares so much that it hurts him. And she wishes that she could tell him about Gallifrey and how he saved it. Just to give him a little spark. But of course, she can't. Cheating or something.
"I know you wanted to help but. Kidnapping? Not exactly how I'd go about it. I can't blame him for mistrusting you. You can be a bit scary sometimes." She remembers when he yelled at her, accusing her of being a trick or a trap. He'd been terrifying and seemingly completely unaware of it.
no subject
He had been. He definitely had been, enough that even he recognised it. Recognised the terror in Edgeworth's eyes... and fed on it. Used it. Suddenly, he's ashamed enough that it's not something he even wants to go into, so instead he skims the surface.
"I got a bit carried away. I think he thought I was going to invade his mind, which I wasn't, I wouldn't have, but that's enough to terrify anyone, let alone with me... well. Suffice to say, he thinks me a problem now. But he didn't have me arrested, so that's something."
no subject
She doesn't poke at his concerns over what he would have done. She doesn't want to say "I know you wouldn't". It's a little cheesy and doesn't give credit to the internal struggle he faces when it comes to these situations. Instead she just squeezes his hand a bit tighter at that before releasing it.
"I'll do my best. I always try to. And I think... I know I can do it. I know you can do the right thing. Sometimes you just need a push."
no subject
He's certain to take a moment to catch her eyes, make sure she's properly focused on him, his smile tweaking and growing into something stronger as he settles his own attention in completely on her.
"You're brilliant, Clara. In everything. You are brilliant."
He won't fail her. If there's one thing he won't allow himself to do, it's fail her. Now that she's here to keep him sane, now that he's shared how vital she is with a person who will hold her to it, it's his responsibility not to let her down.
With that message shared, he releases her and sits back... only to lift an empty cup off the tray sitting next to him and push it in her direction.
"And ready for tea!"
no subject
But for the stoic and calm response inside, everything is racing. It's all fire and ice and it's only years of experience that allow her to separate the exterior from interior. She and the Doctor have been together for awhile now, but still, when he praises her like this it takes her breath away. It's like he sees her, really sees her and her place in the world. No echoes, no ghosts, just Clara Oswald and all her glory.
She won't let him down.
"Oh." She blinks when he raises the cup and pushes it to her. Then her brow furrows. "You did remember to order us the tea, didn't you?"
no subject
Oh. Right. Tea. He's got the cups, yes, but the pot does seem suspiciously absent, doesn't it? His sheepish expression is absolutely going to have to speak for him, because he's not about to elaborate on the fact that no, no, apparently not.