clara oswald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
parallels) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-07-27 10:19 am
parallels) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-07-27 10:19 am
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?"