Fic - A New Dance
5/1/14 18:08![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: A New Dance
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Twelve/Clara
Word Count: 1,557
Summary: Clara was quickly finding that a new Doctor took some getting used to.
Author's Note: I'm fully expecting this to become non-canon once Season 8 airs, but I wanted to write something for them anyway.
A New Dance
Clara sat on the steps leading to the doors of the TARDIS, staring at them without really looking at them. It had been a few days since the Doctor had regenerated, and while the initial shock had worn off, she was still struggling to deal with the change. She had witnessed other regenerations while lost in the Doctor’s timeline, but she had always assumed that she would be by his side in the events leading up to his regeneration. She been with him at the end, but it wasn’t the same. She hadn’t been ready for it.
“You’re awfully quiet,” the Doctor said from behind her, and she turned and smiled up at him, trying to hide her pain.
“I’m just thinking, that’s all. Can’t think if I’m talking, now can I?”
“I suppose not. Unless you’re the type to think out loud. I’ve done that before,” he agreed, settling down beside her. Clara went back to staring at the TARDIS doors, still not quite used to this new Doctor. It wasn’t that he looked older than her previous body, that she could deal with. It was more that his personality and mannerisms were different than what she was used to. He was quieter, more thoughtful and still, yet she saw flashes of the man she had come to love peek through from time to time.
“Penny for your thoughts? Or would you rather a pound?”
She shifted, unsure of whether to raise the topic. But one look at him let her know that he would just keep asking until she answered. One more thing to get used to. “You,” she said at last. “Well, him, but you are him-”
“-and he is me,” the Doctor finished with a nod. “You lot always have trouble when I regenerate. But it’s only natural, I suppose. Humans only live once, and when you die, you don’t come back. Not usually, anyway.”
“But I’ve been through this before, in my other lives,” she insisted, knowing that he wasn’t being critical, he was just stating a fact. “I know how this thing works.”
“And yet you still don’t know what to think of me,” he said, squeezing her knee gently. “Good thing I don’t get insulted easily, eh?”
“Oh, I might have to disagree with that,” Clara replied, giving him a nudge with her elbow. He snorted, and they chuckled together.
“Still, in all the excitement, we haven’t had much time to really do something together,” he mused, drumming his fingers on her knee as he spoke. She smiled at that, pleased that he felt this comfortable with her.
“What, running for our lives while waiting for your memory to return doesn’t count?”
“Aside from my memory issues, we always seem to be running for our lives. So no, it doesn’t.”
“Then should we go somewhere?”
“Hm, maybe. That’s the thing, though – we have all of time and space to see, and yet I have no idea where or when to go. Or maybe I’m just forgetting where I want to go!” He pulled a face then smiled, and she shook her head at the joke.
“Might as well stay put if you can’t make up your mind.”
“Indeed. But what should we do...?” She looked at him as trailed off, content to watch him think. His previous self wouldn’t have been able to sit still and would have been circling the console by now. But this Doctor sat quietly and gazed off into space, occasionally tapping a finger or two as an idea struck him.
“Do you remember Redford’s court?” he asked suddenly, meeting her gaze and giving her and odd smile.
“On Finius III? How could I forget?” That had been a wild time, for once they had defeated the alien threat, they had feasted and danced the next two days. It was a wonder her legs hadn’t fallen off by the end of it.
“Good!” She twisted around to watch as he got to his feet and went to the console, typing rather frantically at the keyboard for a few moments. Seemingly satisfied with the result on the monitor, he nodded and then turned to her, holding out a hand. “Come on then, she won’t wait all day!”
Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Clara got up and went over to him, placing her hand in his. “She?”
“Who else?” he replied, nodding towards the console. The TARDIS hummed faintly, then music began to play. She instantly recognized it as one of the waltzes from Redford’s court, having danced to it at least five times. As she realized what was going on, the Doctor smirked and raised their hands, extending them outwards as he other hand settled on her waist.
Doing her best not to glare at him, she placed her free hand on his shoulder and asked, “Do you remember the steps?”
“Possibly, but why don’t you lead for this one?” This time she did glare at him, but he only chuckled and nodded her her to begin. Grumbling about using amnesia as an excuse, she took the first step to the right, the Doctor following.
As they began to slowly circle around the console, Clara felt herself relax. The steps and the music were both familiar, and the Doctor seemed to remember the steps just fine despite his fuzzy memory.
“Feeling any better now?” he asked softly. “This is our song, so to speak.”
“This is one of our many songs,” she corrected, thinking of all the dances they had shared. “But yeah, a little. You’re just...different, you know?”
“I do so. New face, new personality, new clothes. Same old hearts, though. Those never change.”
“Unlike your kidneys.”
They shared a smile, and he moved closer as he said, “You’ve got to watch out for those kidneys. Never know what they might get up to next.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The song ended then, so they slowed to a halt, then a different, slower waltz started to play. She listened for a moment, but didn’t know the tune. “This is new.”
“It was composed on the third moon of the planet Delta-Han. We’ve never been, at least not yet. Allow me.” Clara stiffened as he stepped closer still, his hand on her waist moving up ever so slightly. She gazed over his shoulder as he began to lead, softly murmuring the steps to her until she caught on. It was a slower dance, much more intimate, but once she got used it it, it seemed like they were dancing more freely than they had before.
“You’re a good dancer,” she said eventually, loathe to break the silence but needing to say something. “You weren’t always so graceful.”
“Ah, you saw my dancing back then, eh? Yes, I certainly wasn’t graceful. Dancing isn’t something Time Lords do much, so I had to learn. I was terrible at first.”
“Yes, I remember. Some of your younger selves wouldn’t have danced like this in the first place, unless you absolutely had to.”
“The stubbornness of youth. I’m surprised I didn’t have two left feet, now that I think about it.”
“Not anymore, though,” she breathed, edging closer. She heard him nod, and then he began to hum softly in time to the music. Clara closed her eyes and listened, wondering what it would sound like if he started to sing. Not that she was about to ask.
Deciding to be daring, she carefully rested her head on his shoulder, just able to hear the faint beating of his hearts under the music and his humming. Their steps slowed, and she guessed that they were dancing at a slower rate than the song was intended for. Not that it mattered, since the dance wasn’t the important thing anymore.
Without saying anything, the Doctor let go of her hand and slid both arms around her waist, pulling her close. Reminding herself that she had to breathe, Clara slowly looped her free hand around his waist, the hand on his shoulder sliding over to rest lightly on the back of his neck. Eventually, they stopped dancing altogether, and simply stood, swaying slightly to the music.
“Whatcha thinking about?” she asked as the song ended and a new one, also slow, began.
“How much I missed this,” he murmured back, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I was on Trenzalore for so long, I almost forgot what being close to someone felt like.”
“You didn’t have anyone...?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. I was their guardian, their protector. Yes, I loved them all, but not like this...not like I love you.” The last few words were whispered, but Clara heard them all the same. It also struck her that the old Doctor would never have said something in such a straightforward manner. Just one more thing to get used to.
Knowing that she didn’t have to say anything in return, she simply tilted her head up and kissed his neck. The Doctor chuckled, and kissed her on the forehead before saying, “I think that our next stop should be Delta-Han. They have some lovely resorts during their Age of Knowledge.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, content for a break and a chance to spend more time with her new Doctor. Perhaps they would even discover some new dances to try.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Twelve/Clara
Word Count: 1,557
Summary: Clara was quickly finding that a new Doctor took some getting used to.
Author's Note: I'm fully expecting this to become non-canon once Season 8 airs, but I wanted to write something for them anyway.
Clara sat on the steps leading to the doors of the TARDIS, staring at them without really looking at them. It had been a few days since the Doctor had regenerated, and while the initial shock had worn off, she was still struggling to deal with the change. She had witnessed other regenerations while lost in the Doctor’s timeline, but she had always assumed that she would be by his side in the events leading up to his regeneration. She been with him at the end, but it wasn’t the same. She hadn’t been ready for it.
“You’re awfully quiet,” the Doctor said from behind her, and she turned and smiled up at him, trying to hide her pain.
“I’m just thinking, that’s all. Can’t think if I’m talking, now can I?”
“I suppose not. Unless you’re the type to think out loud. I’ve done that before,” he agreed, settling down beside her. Clara went back to staring at the TARDIS doors, still not quite used to this new Doctor. It wasn’t that he looked older than her previous body, that she could deal with. It was more that his personality and mannerisms were different than what she was used to. He was quieter, more thoughtful and still, yet she saw flashes of the man she had come to love peek through from time to time.
“Penny for your thoughts? Or would you rather a pound?”
She shifted, unsure of whether to raise the topic. But one look at him let her know that he would just keep asking until she answered. One more thing to get used to. “You,” she said at last. “Well, him, but you are him-”
“-and he is me,” the Doctor finished with a nod. “You lot always have trouble when I regenerate. But it’s only natural, I suppose. Humans only live once, and when you die, you don’t come back. Not usually, anyway.”
“But I’ve been through this before, in my other lives,” she insisted, knowing that he wasn’t being critical, he was just stating a fact. “I know how this thing works.”
“And yet you still don’t know what to think of me,” he said, squeezing her knee gently. “Good thing I don’t get insulted easily, eh?”
“Oh, I might have to disagree with that,” Clara replied, giving him a nudge with her elbow. He snorted, and they chuckled together.
“Still, in all the excitement, we haven’t had much time to really do something together,” he mused, drumming his fingers on her knee as he spoke. She smiled at that, pleased that he felt this comfortable with her.
“What, running for our lives while waiting for your memory to return doesn’t count?”
“Aside from my memory issues, we always seem to be running for our lives. So no, it doesn’t.”
“Then should we go somewhere?”
“Hm, maybe. That’s the thing, though – we have all of time and space to see, and yet I have no idea where or when to go. Or maybe I’m just forgetting where I want to go!” He pulled a face then smiled, and she shook her head at the joke.
“Might as well stay put if you can’t make up your mind.”
“Indeed. But what should we do...?” She looked at him as trailed off, content to watch him think. His previous self wouldn’t have been able to sit still and would have been circling the console by now. But this Doctor sat quietly and gazed off into space, occasionally tapping a finger or two as an idea struck him.
“Do you remember Redford’s court?” he asked suddenly, meeting her gaze and giving her and odd smile.
“On Finius III? How could I forget?” That had been a wild time, for once they had defeated the alien threat, they had feasted and danced the next two days. It was a wonder her legs hadn’t fallen off by the end of it.
“Good!” She twisted around to watch as he got to his feet and went to the console, typing rather frantically at the keyboard for a few moments. Seemingly satisfied with the result on the monitor, he nodded and then turned to her, holding out a hand. “Come on then, she won’t wait all day!”
Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Clara got up and went over to him, placing her hand in his. “She?”
“Who else?” he replied, nodding towards the console. The TARDIS hummed faintly, then music began to play. She instantly recognized it as one of the waltzes from Redford’s court, having danced to it at least five times. As she realized what was going on, the Doctor smirked and raised their hands, extending them outwards as he other hand settled on her waist.
Doing her best not to glare at him, she placed her free hand on his shoulder and asked, “Do you remember the steps?”
“Possibly, but why don’t you lead for this one?” This time she did glare at him, but he only chuckled and nodded her her to begin. Grumbling about using amnesia as an excuse, she took the first step to the right, the Doctor following.
As they began to slowly circle around the console, Clara felt herself relax. The steps and the music were both familiar, and the Doctor seemed to remember the steps just fine despite his fuzzy memory.
“Feeling any better now?” he asked softly. “This is our song, so to speak.”
“This is one of our many songs,” she corrected, thinking of all the dances they had shared. “But yeah, a little. You’re just...different, you know?”
“I do so. New face, new personality, new clothes. Same old hearts, though. Those never change.”
“Unlike your kidneys.”
They shared a smile, and he moved closer as he said, “You’ve got to watch out for those kidneys. Never know what they might get up to next.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The song ended then, so they slowed to a halt, then a different, slower waltz started to play. She listened for a moment, but didn’t know the tune. “This is new.”
“It was composed on the third moon of the planet Delta-Han. We’ve never been, at least not yet. Allow me.” Clara stiffened as he stepped closer still, his hand on her waist moving up ever so slightly. She gazed over his shoulder as he began to lead, softly murmuring the steps to her until she caught on. It was a slower dance, much more intimate, but once she got used it it, it seemed like they were dancing more freely than they had before.
“You’re a good dancer,” she said eventually, loathe to break the silence but needing to say something. “You weren’t always so graceful.”
“Ah, you saw my dancing back then, eh? Yes, I certainly wasn’t graceful. Dancing isn’t something Time Lords do much, so I had to learn. I was terrible at first.”
“Yes, I remember. Some of your younger selves wouldn’t have danced like this in the first place, unless you absolutely had to.”
“The stubbornness of youth. I’m surprised I didn’t have two left feet, now that I think about it.”
“Not anymore, though,” she breathed, edging closer. She heard him nod, and then he began to hum softly in time to the music. Clara closed her eyes and listened, wondering what it would sound like if he started to sing. Not that she was about to ask.
Deciding to be daring, she carefully rested her head on his shoulder, just able to hear the faint beating of his hearts under the music and his humming. Their steps slowed, and she guessed that they were dancing at a slower rate than the song was intended for. Not that it mattered, since the dance wasn’t the important thing anymore.
Without saying anything, the Doctor let go of her hand and slid both arms around her waist, pulling her close. Reminding herself that she had to breathe, Clara slowly looped her free hand around his waist, the hand on his shoulder sliding over to rest lightly on the back of his neck. Eventually, they stopped dancing altogether, and simply stood, swaying slightly to the music.
“Whatcha thinking about?” she asked as the song ended and a new one, also slow, began.
“How much I missed this,” he murmured back, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I was on Trenzalore for so long, I almost forgot what being close to someone felt like.”
“You didn’t have anyone...?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. I was their guardian, their protector. Yes, I loved them all, but not like this...not like I love you.” The last few words were whispered, but Clara heard them all the same. It also struck her that the old Doctor would never have said something in such a straightforward manner. Just one more thing to get used to.
Knowing that she didn’t have to say anything in return, she simply tilted her head up and kissed his neck. The Doctor chuckled, and kissed her on the forehead before saying, “I think that our next stop should be Delta-Han. They have some lovely resorts during their Age of Knowledge.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, content for a break and a chance to spend more time with her new Doctor. Perhaps they would even discover some new dances to try.
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