[She just lets him think that, and doesn't respond. Instead, she finishes up in her garden and makes her way over toward the labs. Clara finds him at his little work station, of course, and hops up to sit on the table as she watches him do his thing. Her legs dangle and swing, and she waits for just the right moment to reach out to grab him by the shirt and tug him in close for a kiss.]
You don't still think you're in the right, do you?
[ As if a small few minutes of time between messages would change that. He's over two thousand years old now. His stance on waffles has been spoken, and it remains very firm.
But he does like the way she's tugged him in close, so he can relent to it, momentarily abandoning the whosit he's been tinkering with to kiss her back. ]
[Even as she says it, her nose wrinkles up, and she's left softly laughing as she steals another kiss. They're practically in public here, so she feels the need to restrain herself from that point on, clearing her throat as she leans back a bit.]
You know, I'm still bothered by the fact Degar didn't turn me into a mermaid. I'm starting to think he doesn't like me.
[ Not that he's ever spoken with the Commander, but those brief moments that he'd appear to retrieve the orb he seemed like the sort of bloke Clara would, indeed get along with.
He leans in to teasingly boop her crinkled nose with a finger before he, too, steps back. ]
But you might need to speak with him about that. [ Said oh-so-seriously. ] Suppose he did have some idea of what we all might look like in our fishy forms.
[Her nose wrinkles up even more at that boop, and she laughs because of it. The fact that the Doctor is sending her to set Degar straight cracks her up, because he knows exactly what he's unleashing. Of course, she has no real intention of wasting the man's time with something so petty.]
Suppose he did.
[That's all she has to say about that, at least for now. Her eyes glance over toward his workstation, and she reaches over to pick up what she figures is a spare part.]
[ Yes. Yes, he was working on something rather clever just now, wasn't he? Before the interruption and the waffle-talk, and the kissing.
He looks to the bits and bobs and their little wind-y, whirl-y parts, and he frowns just a little, tapping a screwdriver against the top of the metal-and-other-materials thingamabob.
He supposes he does owe a better answer, or an answer at all. ]
Just an experiment, really — I'm not sure yet. But it'll be brilliant when it's done.
[Her expression softens into something warm and a little awestruck. Sometimes it's a little humbling to know that her man really is a mad screaming genius. Even if she likes to keep him humble and tell him he isn't.
This isn't one of those occasions, though. Now she just looks on at him with great fondness as she sets the spare part aside.]
You are a clever boy, aren't you? I don't have any doubt that it will be.
[She moves to take a few little steps away from his desk then, hand held out for him.]
Come along, then. I think I hear waffles calling our names.
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[ hUFFS ]
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You don't still think you're in the right, do you?
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[ As if a small few minutes of time between messages would change that. He's over two thousand years old now. His stance on waffles has been spoken, and it remains very firm.
But he does like the way she's tugged him in close, so he can relent to it, momentarily abandoning the whosit he's been tinkering with to kiss her back. ]
Being non-fishy is quite brilliant, isn't it?
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[Even as she says it, her nose wrinkles up, and she's left softly laughing as she steals another kiss. They're practically in public here, so she feels the need to restrain herself from that point on, clearing her throat as she leans back a bit.]
You know, I'm still bothered by the fact Degar didn't turn me into a mermaid. I'm starting to think he doesn't like me.
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[ Not that he's ever spoken with the Commander, but those brief moments that he'd appear to retrieve the orb he seemed like the sort of bloke Clara would, indeed get along with.
He leans in to teasingly boop her crinkled nose with a finger before he, too, steps back. ]
But you might need to speak with him about that. [ Said oh-so-seriously. ] Suppose he did have some idea of what we all might look like in our fishy forms.
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Suppose he did.
[That's all she has to say about that, at least for now. Her eyes glance over toward his workstation, and she reaches over to pick up what she figures is a spare part.]
What is it you're working on, exactly?
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[ Yes. Yes, he was working on something rather clever just now, wasn't he? Before the interruption and the waffle-talk, and the kissing.
He looks to the bits and bobs and their little wind-y, whirl-y parts, and he frowns just a little, tapping a screwdriver against the top of the metal-and-other-materials thingamabob.
He supposes he does owe a better answer, or an answer at all. ]
Just an experiment, really — I'm not sure yet. But it'll be brilliant when it's done.
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This isn't one of those occasions, though. Now she just looks on at him with great fondness as she sets the spare part aside.]
You are a clever boy, aren't you? I don't have any doubt that it will be.
[She moves to take a few little steps away from his desk then, hand held out for him.]
Come along, then. I think I hear waffles calling our names.