certainlynotlittle

[certainlynotlittle]

makinghistorytogether:

Amy glanced over at the small woman, a single eyebrow raised in amusement that really was probably rude when she realized that yes, she did just take the last tea bag, and her fellow teacher looked awfully put out by that. Glancing down at her mug, she dunked it dramatically in her water for show and nodded with hum. “Would you look at that. Looks like I did, yeah.”

Eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed into a glare -- was Amelia vexing her? Oh, that was so not cool. Another flash of annoyance and something else she couldn’t quite peg but that she seemed to be feeling an awful lot of recently. With a hand perched threateningly on her hip, she switched her gaze from Amy’s face to her mug and back again. 

“But I wanted that tea,” she responded, her voice dripping with barely contained frustration. 

[certainlynotlittle]

mrcampbellch:

“What –” He coughed to clear his throat, and immediately picked up his tea to take another sip, disappointed that it was nearly gone at this point. He could feel his cheeks burning, and hoped he’d be able to pass it off as being from the heat of his tea, or the heat of the room. Was it warm in the emporium, or was it just him?  

It was probably just warm in there.  

“No –” His voice came out higher than he expected, and he had to clear his throat, again. “No, not cross. Confused. Really confused. Not cross.”  

If he was being honest, even this was better than the morning he was having prior to Clara’s sudden sitting at his table. He was actually feeling less cross now than he was earlier that morning. But he wasn’t going to tell her that – at least not yet. 

An undignified snort snuck its way out. Try as she might to hold herself together, she had failed. And she felt bad about it, really -- guilty even. But she hadn’t been able to help herself, had she? That higher pitch to his voice had been the last tipping straw. 

It was cute, though, she thought. And she also thought that was enough to clean her conscience. 

 “Good, good,” she nodded her head, taking a sip of her own tea. “Not cross is good.” A pause as she took another longer sip. “Anything I can do to help with the confused?”

[certainlynotlittle]

aevummedicus:

@certainlynotlittle

Was it really Wednesday already?

The Doctor’s mind was boggled by the fact that in linear, Earth time, that the day he was supposed to see Clara had come around once more. Weeks were strange, and stranger so were the days that were held within them.

So, donning his Caretaker gear (which he thought was silly), the Time Lord landed his TARDIS and popped out of the shed, making his way merrily towards his current companion’s classroom.

Peering in, he saw that she was just finishing up a class, and though he’d interrupted her during a lecture in the past, he decided that it could wait.

…Except waiting was too boring for him and after about a minute he couldn’t take it anymore. Busting through the door, the Doctor grinned widely and spread his arms out as he peered at the students and the teacher. “Hello!” He cheered, before pointing over at Clara. “You and me, we have a date, I do believe!”

Whirling in a circle as he made his way over to her, he gently patted a few students on the head as he moved between them. “Are… you… ready?” Each word was spoken slowly as he took his time to get up within an inch of Clara’s face.

Clara stared. Eyes wide with surprise, yes, but something else. Something... she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Or wouldn’t. Maybe both were true. 

In the distance, she could hear the sound of giggling students -- a cacophony of ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ and something about bowties. But it’s all drown out by the sound of her own heart beating. 

Annoyed, yes. That must be the other emotion she’s feeling (though it doesn’t quite match, does it?). Annoyed is par for the course when travelling with the Doctor. It’s just that usually the excitement of travelling overshadows the annoyance just enough that she can’t quite find it in herself to slap him in this face. 

Not that face, though. She hadn’t seen that face since...

“Doctor?” there was a warning tint to her voice, but she couldn’t quite find it in herself to scold him. “You’re here...”

She wanted to wrap him up in a hug. Tell him about all the adventures he’d missed. Tease him about getting old -- did he know? Was this a trick? An app on his sonic? A stick insect disguised as a big old chin?

When had his face gotten so close to hers?

Clearing her throat (and her head, because clearly, that was a thing that needed doing) she put her hands on his shoulders as she leant back just so. Biting her lip, she looked at him a moment longer, the furrow of her brows deepening the longer she looked. This was new. 

“Uh, sorry -- class dismissed, no homework, off you pop -- see you later,” she shooed her students, not actually looking at the clock to see that their lesson was, in fact, complete. 

On Wednesdays we wear non-flammable clothing. ¶ Doctor (11) + Clara

[certainlynotlittle]

shoreditchnurse:

“ Really? He can’t help but smile at that. He’s never quite gotten over the insecurity that’s plagued him since childhood, although the specific source of it seems to escape him every time he thinks about it.

“ So is she, although I’m not sure she always admits it. “

She almost rolls her eyes at that, but she holds it in -- because it really is sweet, isn’t it? So she smiles instead. “I’m not sure cute is the word I’d use,” at least not whilst Amy’s in earshot, she values her life, “but those legs...” It’s almost unfair. Amy’s legs are almost as long as she is tall. 

[certainlynotlittle]

mrcampbellch:

Liam gaped openly when Clara decided to move over to the seat right across from him, effectively joining him without so much of a warning. He thought maybe he should be put off by it – especially since he still wasn’t entirely convinced that she wasn’t having a go at him. What else could her motive have been? 

Her explanation that she’d once done the exact same thing didn’t sound all that convincing either, and all he managed to say in return was a skeptical “Right…” before taking another sip of his tea.  

“Boring!?” He spluttered, not entirely sure why he was so offended by that comment either. “If I was so boring, what was the point in continuin’ to stare at me for seven whole minutes?” He countered, raising both his eyebrows at her expectantly. 

Clara smiled, batting her big eyes purposely as she leant her chin into the palm of her hand. “Because you’re pretty,” she shrugged, not even attempting to hide her smirk, “and I like looking at you.” And it was true. He was handsome, in that socially awkward sci-fi nerd next door kind of way. And she really did enjoy looking at him. 

Especially when his cheeks started to flush. Which was what she’d been hoping for then. She even leant in closer, hoping to get a look at the start of a blush. 

Was that terribly cruel of her?

Nah. 

“Oh, you’re not cross with me, are you?”

[certainlynotlittle]

Clara’s gaze fixed on her mug, brows furrowed and lips pursed in annoyance. “Sorry --” she started, fingers curling around the edge of the countertop until her knuckles turned white -- her response was irrational, she knew that, and yet... -- “did you just take the last tea bag?” She’d wanted the last tea bag.

[certainlynotlittle]

shoreditchnurse:

“ She does talk about me right? “ All of the sudden he’s worried that she’s yet to actually mention him, or has only mentioned him once or twice. He never really did manage to grow out of his childhood insecurity. “ Almost entirely good things. I think the only time I’ve heard her complain about you was when you looked cuter than her on a workday. “

Sighing, Clara decides to take pity on him. She gets the sense this is the sort of thing that means more to him than he lets on, and honestly, she knows all about insecurities, she’s got a few of her own she keeps hidden away in her personality. 

“Oh yeah, all the time -- it’s actually kind of annoying. Her perfect Rory,” she pauses, smiling sincerely, “I think some of the ladies in the office are a bit jealous.” Not her, though, Clara’s not willing to admit to that part of her personality. Instead of focusing on that, she turns her attention to his latter comment. “Well now that just can’t be true, I’m always cute.”

[certainlynotlittle]

mrcampbellch:

“Seven minutes.” He repeated slowly, blinking in confusion as he turned his had to look back at the clock, feeling like he missed something. He took another sip from his tea, debating whether or not he should just go back being in his own little world, and pretend that he wasn’t a little bit flustered about being stared at by the pretty (and admittedly one of the more respectable) colleage, Ms. Oswald. 

His curiosity got the better of him though, especially when she pointed out that she’d just been waiting to see how long it would take him to notice her. “You’ve been there for seven minutes!?” He turned his head to look back at the clock again, realizing that ten minutes had passed since he’d sat down. Was he really that unobservant? 

“You couldn’t have been, I’d definitely would have noticed. Are you having me on?” 

The corner of her lips curled, setting her smirk more firmly on her lips. Mr. Campell had quickly become one of her favourite people to tease. Mainly because it was so very easy to get him. And he always had the best reactions, as well. Much like then -- completely caught out, whilst trying very hard to remain nonchalant. 

Someone crueller might have chuckled. 

Clara, being the sympathetic, kind human she was, opted instead to say nothing -- quietly gathering her things and setting her drink on his table and taking the seat opposite him. He, of course, hadn’t actually invited her to join him, but she really didn’t think he’d mind. (And even if he did, it was doubtful he say as much, which was good enough for her.)

“Oh, but I’m not,” she answered, shaking her head just so, “having a go, that is. Seven minutes, though, that’s not bad, this one time --” she stopped herself, taking a moment run through the story in her head to see if it contained any mention of aliens -- oh bugger, the good ones always did -- “the uh, the same thing happened to me.” The creature in question couldn’t actually be seen with the human eye, but still, she could relate, so she shrugged. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” she continued, her tone turning teasing, “if fact, you were actually bit boring to watch if I’m being totally honest.”

He wasn’t, but it was more fun if he thought he was. 

[certainlynotlittle]

shoreditchnurse:

@certainlynotlittle

“ Clara right? “ His head tilts, grinning as he offers a hand. “ I’m Rory. Amy’s husband. She’s mentioned you a few times. “

“Yes -- Clara is me,” she nods, smiling charmingly as she takes his hand, giving it a good shake. “Amy’s husband, of course. Well, good to meet you, Rory.” Dropping his hand she pauses, biting her lip. “Only good things, I hope,” she asks, winking. She’s on pretty good terms with Amy, she thinks. 

Then again, Clara likes to think she’s on good terms with everyone. 

[certainlynotlittle]

mrcampbellch:

“I’ll take it to go, thanks,” He told the barista, giving them a smile before standing off to the side to wait for his order. He scanned the half empty emporium before deciding it wouldn’t be a bad time to snag a table – actually sit and enjoy his tea for once and quickly changed his mind before the barista disappeared behind the counter. “Actually – sorry, I’ll stay. Thank you.” 

A few minutes later, he was sitting at a random table with his order, pleased that he might be able to enjoy a moment of peace before he headed back to the school. He barely managed to get through half his tea before he felt a pair of eyes on him, and he slowly turned to look at the person sitting at the table next to him. 

“Can I help you?” 

A visit with Jenny, that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. Well, not The Doctor -- in fact, maybe best to shelve that metaphor, there’s no way she was having The Doctor think she’d ever take orders from him. Even if it was just a tthing that people said. And in her own mind. 

Whatever. 

But she really was keen to catch up with her friend. It felt like it had been ages. Even if time travel had done a number on her ability to gage actual time. Certainly long enough to warrant a tea and a chat, yeah? 

Unfortunately, Jenny hadn’t been in, instead forcing her to sit by herself at one of the smaller tables -- bored and alone. Or not bored, actually, because Clara was playing a game. A game called: ‘how long will it take the adorable Mr. Campbell to notice I’m staring at him’ game. She was still a bit foggy on the rules, but all in all it had proved to be much more entertaining than she’d originally thought. Especially when she’d been caught. 

Chuckling to herself, Clara thumbed the screen of her mobile, noting the time. “Seven minutes,” she answered, entirely too smug for someone who’d basically just been caught creeping on a colleague, “Not bad.” Sipping her tea, she paused reflectively. “Well -- not good either.” She bit her lip, well mannered enough to appear apologetic. “Sorry, was waiting to see how long it’d take you to notice me.”

[certainlynotlittle]

harknessjack:

“So you do normal?” Jack replied, giving her an easy grin.

“Can’t say the same for myself, my life is pretty much an ever-extended strange.” He gave a shrug, letting it slide that she was either lying to him or hiding something from him. Jack read people well enough and Clara’s inability to really say anything while simultaneously saying everything was certainly one of the most tell-tale signs.

“I bet,” Jack replied making a face that borderlined ‘knowing’ and being a bit too smug. “The one with the chin is pretty cute; young looking too. The grumpy one is a bit too much for me. Very in-your-face, almost literally.” Jack nodded, though he wasn’t sure which grumpy one she was referring to. 

“Are you really?” Jack dropped his feet to the floor and sat forward, leaning towards Clara as he pulled over his top paper. “Well, I can make you an answer key and we can go from there; at least you’ll know this bit of history once we’re done.” He smiled at her, placing the paper in front of her.

“Though I’m not going to argue against you keeping me company, I’ll always be happy with that.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, swallowing down another lie. Her life was definitely far from normal, wasn’t it? “Well... normal-ish.” Then again, whose wasn’t these days? The school and its staff seemed to be getting more peculiar by the day. She had a sneaking suspicion Jack was involved in the weirdness, at least in some way. But thought it best no to say. She’d learned early on she should hold her cards close to her chest. Always best to get your opponent to show theirs before divulging too much. 

That’s how she’d lost her favourite pair of sunglasses. 

However, she did find herself smiling at Jack’s description of the Doctors. He certainly wasn’t wrong. 

“Oh no,” she held up her hands in protest, though she smiled still. “I am not interested in a History lesson, Jack Harkness. I’m the teacher now, that means no more lessons in subjects I’m rubbish at.” One of the few perks to being on the other side of the lesson plans. “But I am agreeable to watching you mark. You’re quite handsome whilst little red marks on students’ course work.”

[certainlynotlittle]

aevummedicus:

“Well I do mean seriously that. How could you not see where you were going? I am obviously walking in this direction, you really ought to keep your head up!” People kept running into him, and he was very fed up with it.

Of course, she was referencing to his coat and the Doctor was also fed up about that. Straightening his coat out, he proudly jutted his chin before peering down at her once more. “I happen to look quite dashing, thank you.” He paused and took that moment to assess her.

“Though I really can’t say the same for yourself.” Sniffing, the Doctor began to pick at the paint on the walls… Honestly.

“This place needs a fresh coat of paint, someone ought to do something about this.” He responded, only to answer her question a moment later. “And you do, which is precisely why you look so boring.”

Clara gaped. Openly.

Again, she found herself asking, “Seriously?” If she hadn’t already pegged this man as The Doctor, his absolute cluelessness and lack of social skills certainly would have tipped her off. “You bumped into me. Your fault, my seriously!” Clenching her fists to stop from slapping him (just in case, better safe than slapped with a restraining order!), she huffed indignantly. “And if it had been my fault -- which it definitely was not -- it would only be because I’d been temporarily blinded by that --” could it really be considered a coat, that seemed like an insult to outerwear -- “costume!”

“And,” she started, not quite ready to let go of the rant just yet, “I am plenty charming, I’ll have you know!”

There. Much better. That would show him.

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she took a moment to look around the hallway. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene. Hell, that jacket was a scene all on its own. She’d never tease him about the minimalist look again.

“Stop that,” she swatted at his hand before reaching to grab a hold of his arm. Something wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be here. Not this face. She didn’t think. Wasn’t he the grey haired stick insect now? Wasn’t that the only one who was meant to be visiting her, ideally after school hours?  

(If she’d known she could request a face, she might have called for the bow tie one. Just for a quick visit.)

“And stop talking,” she paused, biting her lip as she contemplated her options, then sighed. “Sorry, you can talk -- but only to answer my question -- why are you here?”

[certainlynotlittle]

aevummedicus:

“Seriously? Seriously what!?” The Doctor looked down at himself and then down at the pretty brunette.

Something about her felt familiar to him, and though he couldn’t quite place her - he certainly knew she was important.

“If your ‘seriously’ has anything to do with walking in my direction and running into me, then I should say I should be the one saying: seriously.” He retorted, giving his hair a bit of a shake as if to make it look like he was giving a head toss.

“Who are you? Are you another teacher at this… school?” He sniffed, giving the inside of the hall a quick and disapproving glance before looking back down at her, all the while raising his brow.

The furrow of her brow became more pronounced. Oh, he did not just blame that collision on her! Even if she had been the one to bump into him, she hardly thought she could be blamed. The jacket alone was to cause a traffic accident. For a man who prided himself on his ability to blend in, he certainly wasn’t subtle, was he?

“No! Not seriously that, seriously you,” she accused, gesturing at him pointedly. Rule one of the Doctor, no matter what face he was wearing, he was always an idiot. 

“Why, do I look like a teacher?” This was new, this running into The Doctor, without her Doctor’s face. She wasn’t sure exactly how much she should say.

[certainlynotlittle]

harknessjack:

Oh.

That was interesting alright. Jack raised a brow at Clara as he sat forward, giving the petite brunette a curious glance. “Why would you not want to? I mean, that Caretaker… or is it Caretakers?… of ours is really rather strange…”

The Captain wondered if Clara was either completely oblivious when it came to the Doctor or if she was putting on a good, but barely convincing, face when it came to protecting her friend.

He’d have to investigate further. “Which Caretaker do you like the most? I think I like the one that looks a little like Do-John. But that’s probably my bias showing since, well, he’s my husband and all.” He smirked, sitting back and kicking his feet up onto the table. “Care to sit a spell and help me grade some American History tests?”

“I don’t really do strange.”

Lies. Most of what she did was strange, but Jack didn’t actually know that, did he? Probably. It was hard to tell these days, wasn’t it?

Which ‘caretaker’ was her favourite. God. Start off with an easy one, why don’t you Jack? Picking a favourite Doctor felt like... well like picking a favourite child. 

... Or some another metaphor that was less weird. 

“Is there more than one? Huh, hadn’t noticed,” she really needed to get those lies under control. “Suppose the chin one’s all right, if you look past the eyebrows.” A beat. “Or the grumpy one.” Even if their relationship had started off a bit strained, she couldn’t really diss the stick insect. Though come to think of it... Jack’s husband really did have the pointy one’s hair down...

Biting her lip, she pushed off the table in favour of taking the seat beside him. “Oh, I’m rubbish at history, but I will help by keeping you company.”

[certainlynotlittle]

harknessjack:

Jack peaked up at Clara and smirked. “That’s a shame,” he started, pushing himself to sitting up as he raised a brow at her. “Sometimes a little gun violence is necessary…” he paused and pulled a face, leaning forward to lower his voice as he did so.

“And fun.” He grinned, sitting back. “But trust me, as much as I thought today was an awful day, I pretty much wouldn’t actually ask for a true death.” He gave a small shrug before deciding to change the subject altogether. “So, what’re you up to today? Grading tests like me, or deciding to hide out in the staff lounge and catch a certain ‘caretaker’.”

Clara pulled a face of her own, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. The fun of running from aliens, or stopping an evil plant from infesting Napolean France she got. Fun violence? Not as much. 

Then again, maybe that had something to do with those video games she’d always forbid Artie from playing. 

She was about to say something about how she’d figured as much -- really, even if Jack was keen to die she was pretty sure he was too pretty to die anyway -- until he brought up the caretaker. Brows raising, Clara crossed her arms in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “No.” A beat, tapping her fingers against her biceps. “What are you talking about? Why would I do that?”

[certainlynotlittle]

aevummedicus:

He wasn’t quite sure why he’d landed at Coal Hill, but he wasn’t about to say that he’d made a mistake in doing so. Of course, the truth was he was on his way to picking Peri up, but she could wait… something was drawing him near here, and he wasn’t about to let it slip between his fingers.

When he exited his TARDIS, the Doctor took one step out and breathed in; immediately after that he made a face.

“Twenty-First Century, how… boring.” Sniffing at the air, the Time Lord straightened his multi-coloured coat and started to head down the nearest corridor, ready to investigate the reason why he was brought there.

Or at least that was plan; almost immediately he ran into someone. “Do watch where you’re going-oh.” Sensing something off about them, the Doctor changed his mind and decided they were the reason he was there. “Who are you?”

Just another normal day, of her normal life, at her normal school, working her normal job. The perfect calm after a particularly eventful adventure with The Doctor. 

Or rather, it should have been. 

Could have been, really, were it not for the person who had just about run her over. 

Righting herself, Clara took a step back, taking in the person or ... well... visually offensive jacket that was stood in front of her. She blinked once. Twice. Three times before finally speaking. 

“Seriously?”

Hadn’t she just ditched him (or well not him exactly, but she’d recognize the Doctor anywhere) back at her flat?

[certainlynotlittle]

harknessjack:

It was certainly an odd day for Jack, one that the Captain was hoping would be more normal than anything else. But of course, as luck would have it for him, the day wanted to do the opposite of what he hoped for.

First his coffee went too cold much too quickly, then his donuts he had for lunch went stale, and of course, to top it all off after that, he nearly collided with the Doctor… or who he was sure was the Doctor, even if the man insisted he wasn’t.

So by the time he entered the staff lounge he was a bit put off by the whole day. Dropping a stack of tests he needed to grade onto the nearest table with an undignified plop, Jack slid easily into a chair before letting out a groan. “I’d ask someone to shoot me but I can tell you with plenty of assurance that, that wouldn’t do any good.”

With a smirk, Clara leant against the table beside him. During their time working together, she’d gotten to know him fairly well -- or so she liked to think, anyway -- so when he plopped down his papers and let out a groan, she was fairly confident she could diagnose the problem. A really bad day. There’d been a few of those going around the school lately. 

Poor Jack. 

“Yeah?” Raising her brows, she crossed her arms over her chest, smirk widening. “Probably for the best, I’m against gun violence.” Unless those guns were actually alien blasters and she was aiming them at cybermen or something, but she figured that bit was probably best left unsaid.