Well, someone must know what's beyond it. That AI — ah, what's her name. We all heard her. She must have an idea.
[ Of course he isn't going to summon her right now either, because just as Clara's thinking it, so is the Doctor: this is something the two of them should be figuring out before anyone else. A kind of ... flag-planting victory that has absolutely nothing to do with the thrill he gets when he sees Clara's face light up, all glowy and happy and excited. He likes seeing people glowy and happy and excited, all right, he isn't biased whatsoever. ]
Where did you come from?
[ This question is to Clara, of course, and when he puts his screwdriver away, sliding it back into the pocket of his jacket, it's to spread his palms over the door like he's seeking a loose spot or a hinge or a secret latch that will bypass whatever security the station's got. ]
[Clara watches him with the same fascination she always does as he works at the door, heading over beside him to press her ear against it like she's actually going to hear him stumble across a secret that she hasn't uncovered yet.]
Me? I was busy making friends and arranging kitchen duties.
[But that does bring back to mind what she had wanted to tell him, and she reaches over to curl her fingers around his wrist.]
I'm concerned about the rations here. Mostly about what's gonna happen once they run out. We don't really, actually know the people here. Who they are and what they can do. That could be dangerous if the situation gets tense. And there are children here.
[Children that she's determined to protect, much like the ones she's nannied for in the past or teaches back home.]
[ The touch gives the Doctor pause and he returns his gaze towards Clara. Brilliant, big-hearted Clara. His mouth turns up into a smile and he steps away from the door. They can always return to this little bit of exploration later. It's not as though the door's going anywhere anyway.
Maybe.
Ooh, how interesting would it be if the door could simply walk away. But — no, no. Back to rations. ]
Of course. [ Thoughtful. ] Yes. [ He takes on a slightly far-off look as though he's imagining that worst-case scenario in his head, assessing the faces he recalls seeing as he'd passed them by in other rooms with a quick wave. It's hard to tell who might be the best of them and who wouldn't hesitate to sell their shipmates off for a meal.
The fingers of his free hand twitch — well, fidget, really — and he nods. ] Yes. I did see something said about that over the network thingy. Has anyone taken stock of what we have yet? How many children are on board? Of course we must protect the children.
[ The Doctor's always had a soft spot for children, the hope of the universe. Little Amelia Pond's face flickers across his vision, threatening to provoke the wound within him that's been scabbed over with her loss. Hers and Rory's.
He shakes his head, plasters on a silly little smile and reiterates: ] The door can wait.
[She wonders what's going on in that head of his sometimes. She knows him well enough now to know when his smiles are forced on, but now isn't the time to force him to talk about what he's thinking. ]
It'll have to wait. Same as -
[There's a pause as she gasps, right as Viveca's message about their mission plays in her head. She's adjusted rather quickly to the earpieces she thinks, but this still startling. Her eyes widen as her fingers press against her ear, and she looks over to the Doctor as if to ask he's hearing the same thing.
By the time the message ends, she can't tell if she's exciting or apprehensive about what's to come.]
Looks like we've got our first chance at finding an orb.
Ooh — not sure whether I like that or not. It's surprising. Very surprising.
[ The Doctor lifts his hands to tap at his ears, at the little communications device that's been plugged into them for convenience. Very efficient for getting a hold of someone, of course, and for surfing the station's web (and their version of Twitter over the network) but this — yes, this will take just a little bit of getting used to.
He meets Clara's eyes but there's a delighted gleam in his, at least. Whatever dark thought he might have had just before the interruption appears to be gone now. It's just the Doctor being his usual excitable self once more. ]
But you're right. That was quick, wasn't it? I wonder what these orbs look like. Big glowy things, do you think?
[Her cheeks puff up as she has no idea how to answer that. She holds her breath, gesturing with her hands to make a big circular shape. Guessing that an orb could be about that big, she glances up at him with a questioning look. Slowly exhaling, she ends her guessing with a casual shrug of her shoulders.]
It's an orb. We'll know it when we see it. We're the Doctor and Clara Oswald, professional orb hunters.
[She's confident in that much, at least. So she puts on her best reckless smirk, and holds both hands up toward him. If he presses his palms to hers, she'll lace their fingers together and press back against him, laughing in the process. It's like a high five with hand holding included.]
Professional Orb Hunters, oh — yes, I do like the sound of that.
[ The Doctor watches Clara make an orb-like shape with her hands, and then considers how he has absolutely no idea what these orbs look like or what they do or how they're supposed to help, and the sheer amount of unknowns here is both frustrating — but a little exciting too. Used to knowing just about everything and having a plan (while also not having a plan), this is all new.
New can be good too; he's just not sure if this is the kind of new he wants to wager when his regret is so ... universe-alteringly important.
He's grinning when he catches on to what Clara's got her hands up for, and obediently places his palms against hers, a match for a match. He allows himself a moment to be so relieved that she's here, that while he could manage all of this on his own, he's rather glad that he isn't. ]
You and me, Clara. We're going to have an adventure.
[She presses against his hands, leaning in until their foreheads and the tips of their noses touch. She's incredibly grateful to have him here, to be going into this as a team. They've been through so much together that she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather have with her.
Her eyes close as she takes in a few breaths, mentally preparing herself for the adventure ahead. Once she feels ready she pulls back, grinning.]
We best not keep anyone waiting, then. Don't want to make a bad first impression.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Of course he isn't going to summon her right now either, because just as Clara's thinking it, so is the Doctor: this is something the two of them should be figuring out before anyone else. A kind of ... flag-planting victory that has absolutely nothing to do with the thrill he gets when he sees Clara's face light up, all glowy and happy and excited. He likes seeing people glowy and happy and excited, all right, he isn't biased whatsoever. ]
Where did you come from?
[ This question is to Clara, of course, and when he puts his screwdriver away, sliding it back into the pocket of his jacket, it's to spread his palms over the door like he's seeking a loose spot or a hinge or a secret latch that will bypass whatever security the station's got. ]
no subject
Me? I was busy making friends and arranging kitchen duties.
[But that does bring back to mind what she had wanted to tell him, and she reaches over to curl her fingers around his wrist.]
I'm concerned about the rations here. Mostly about what's gonna happen once they run out. We don't really, actually know the people here. Who they are and what they can do. That could be dangerous if the situation gets tense. And there are children here.
[Children that she's determined to protect, much like the ones she's nannied for in the past or teaches back home.]
no subject
Maybe.
Ooh, how interesting would it be if the door could simply walk away. But — no, no. Back to rations. ]
Of course. [ Thoughtful. ] Yes. [ He takes on a slightly far-off look as though he's imagining that worst-case scenario in his head, assessing the faces he recalls seeing as he'd passed them by in other rooms with a quick wave. It's hard to tell who might be the best of them and who wouldn't hesitate to sell their shipmates off for a meal.
The fingers of his free hand twitch — well, fidget, really — and he nods. ] Yes. I did see something said about that over the network thingy. Has anyone taken stock of what we have yet? How many children are on board? Of course we must protect the children.
[ The Doctor's always had a soft spot for children, the hope of the universe. Little Amelia Pond's face flickers across his vision, threatening to provoke the wound within him that's been scabbed over with her loss. Hers and Rory's.
He shakes his head, plasters on a silly little smile and reiterates: ] The door can wait.
no subject
It'll have to wait. Same as -
[There's a pause as she gasps, right as Viveca's message about their mission plays in her head. She's adjusted rather quickly to the earpieces she thinks, but this still startling. Her eyes widen as her fingers press against her ear, and she looks over to the Doctor as if to ask he's hearing the same thing.
By the time the message ends, she can't tell if she's exciting or apprehensive about what's to come.]
Looks like we've got our first chance at finding an orb.
no subject
[ The Doctor lifts his hands to tap at his ears, at the little communications device that's been plugged into them for convenience. Very efficient for getting a hold of someone, of course, and for surfing the station's web (and their version of Twitter over the network) but this — yes, this will take just a little bit of getting used to.
He meets Clara's eyes but there's a delighted gleam in his, at least. Whatever dark thought he might have had just before the interruption appears to be gone now. It's just the Doctor being his usual excitable self once more. ]
But you're right. That was quick, wasn't it? I wonder what these orbs look like. Big glowy things, do you think?
no subject
It's an orb. We'll know it when we see it. We're the Doctor and Clara Oswald, professional orb hunters.
[She's confident in that much, at least. So she puts on her best reckless smirk, and holds both hands up toward him. If he presses his palms to hers, she'll lace their fingers together and press back against him, laughing in the process. It's like a high five with hand holding included.]
no subject
[ The Doctor watches Clara make an orb-like shape with her hands, and then considers how he has absolutely no idea what these orbs look like or what they do or how they're supposed to help, and the sheer amount of unknowns here is both frustrating — but a little exciting too. Used to knowing just about everything and having a plan (while also not having a plan), this is all new.
New can be good too; he's just not sure if this is the kind of new he wants to wager when his regret is so ... universe-alteringly important.
He's grinning when he catches on to what Clara's got her hands up for, and obediently places his palms against hers, a match for a match. He allows himself a moment to be so relieved that she's here, that while he could manage all of this on his own, he's rather glad that he isn't. ]
You and me, Clara. We're going to have an adventure.
no subject
Her eyes close as she takes in a few breaths, mentally preparing herself for the adventure ahead. Once she feels ready she pulls back, grinning.]
We best not keep anyone waiting, then. Don't want to make a bad first impression.