[She doesn't realize she's holding her breath until she gives a slow exhale. He likes it. He doesn't think it's childish or stupid, two things she definitely thought as she struggled to gather and stack pizza boxes.
There's a dimpled smile on her face, though he can't exactly see that with the way she's ushered him to sit down so she can sit at his side. She's already resting her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the moment.
She's still so grateful he hadn't completely become a monster after that last mission.]
I'm not sure how long it'll hold, but 'til it collapses in on us...we can pretend we're back home.
[She doesn't catch the slip up of referring to the Tardis as home. It's his home, sure, but it's not supposed to be hers. For all he knows, she's still clinging hold to the Wednesdays only rule and not letting him break it.]
[ Even if it were childish or foolish, those just happen to be two of the Doctor's favourite things. But of course, anything that Clara could possibly make, and make for him most of all — well, that could never be the sort of childish or stupid that feels awful or wrong. It's the perfect kind of childish and stupid. His favourite.
As they settle under their little cardboard box-y little fortress, the Doctor's legs splayed out in front of him and Clara's head resting against his shoulder, he's marveling at the craftsmanship like this is a discovery worth surveying every detail of. His eyes are bright, his smile is wide, and he is quick to capture one of her hands between his. The thought of home prickles lightly at his hearts, and suddenly he does miss his spaceship and all of the adventures he'd had with her, the freedom to go about as he pleased in a way that can't be done here. He's never answered to anyone but himself before, and the last time anyone had tried to do such a thing, he'd up and left and flew away.
But the things this station can do, the way these people might be able to fix what he'd screwed up ... well, it's worth it to stay and not run off. Honestly, to have even gotten this far, he owes it to Clara, too.
He squeezes her hand gently, tilts his head now to press a quick kiss into her hair. ]
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There's a dimpled smile on her face, though he can't exactly see that with the way she's ushered him to sit down so she can sit at his side. She's already resting her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the moment.
She's still so grateful he hadn't completely become a monster after that last mission.]
I'm not sure how long it'll hold, but 'til it collapses in on us...we can pretend we're back home.
[She doesn't catch the slip up of referring to the Tardis as home. It's his home, sure, but it's not supposed to be hers. For all he knows, she's still clinging hold to the Wednesdays only rule and not letting him break it.]
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As they settle under their little cardboard box-y little fortress, the Doctor's legs splayed out in front of him and Clara's head resting against his shoulder, he's marveling at the craftsmanship like this is a discovery worth surveying every detail of. His eyes are bright, his smile is wide, and he is quick to capture one of her hands between his. The thought of home prickles lightly at his hearts, and suddenly he does miss his spaceship and all of the adventures he'd had with her, the freedom to go about as he pleased in a way that can't be done here. He's never answered to anyone but himself before, and the last time anyone had tried to do such a thing, he'd up and left and flew away.
But the things this station can do, the way these people might be able to fix what he'd screwed up ... well, it's worth it to stay and not run off. Honestly, to have even gotten this far, he owes it to Clara, too.
He squeezes her hand gently, tilts his head now to press a quick kiss into her hair. ]
Yes, I do believe it feels quite like home.