Nine Months, Twelve Days (Whouffle fanfic)

Frustrations, Clara, and Biscuits

Clara and the Doctor marched right up to The Hills' front door. Clara smirked a little at the sign on their door that said "Hank and Judy Hill" as if anyone coming to their door wouldn't know who they were. The Doctor rapped lightly on the door, shifting the Jammy Dodgers awkwardly between his hands as if they were a hot potato.

"What are you doing?" Clara asked, giggling a little bit. The Doctor noticed she had been giggling and laughing and smiling a lot more since they had made amends. He liked it. She was so much prettier when she was happy.

"I don't know. My hands feel a little restless...must be all of the coffee I've been drinking since we moved in. That and all the sleep I'm getting anymore because, like, what else am I going to do? Nothing, probably. Traveling kinda sucks when you're by yourself," he said very quickly. Then he knocked again. This time they both heard a shuffling from inside if the house and Clara looked up to exchange a glance with the man beside her.

The door slowly clicked open to reveal Hank, who, despite his efforts to look decent, looked like he had just been through a war with a thousand Daleks and a Cyberman. He quickly glanced at the two before sighing, obviously upset that they were at their door. Clara tried her best not to say anything and instead bit her tongue, letting the Doctor speak for her.

"We heard Judy wasn't feeling well, so we brought her some biscuits and Clara wanted to see her, make sure she was okay and everything. She's really worried," he said, wrapping an arm around Clara's shoulders as he spoke.

"Why should she be worried?" Hank asked, in obvious annoyance.

"Because she's been sick before, and she always insisted in coming over, even when. I said she should rest. It's not like her to cancel," Clara piped up, trying her best to sound concerned. She would be a little bit if she hadn't known that Judy was glitching like a computer dropped in a mud puddle on the first day of spring.

"I'll tell her you stopped by," he said, grabbing the biscuits and shutting the door.

Clara knocked on the door again, this time angry.

"What," he said when he answered, not even asking it but rather yelling it.

"My husband and I just dropped off these biscuits, and you couldn't even say 'thank you' or something? Or at least said that she couldn't make it to the door? I don't know who the hell you think you are-" she was cut off by the door slamming into her face again. She turned around in frustration and stormed down the sidewalk, the Doctor on her heels.

When they got back into the house, Clara slammed her coat down and began to put the eggs away. She was closing every drawer a little harder than necessary and had a scowl set on her face.

"Why are you so upset?" the Doctor asked.

"Why? Because he just took our food and slammed the door. Alien or not, he should have SOME decency!"

"Clara..."

"I know I'm overreacting. It's frustrating because I thought we were finally going to get somewhere in this investigation or whatever you want to call it," Clara said, her voice no longer raised.

"I know. But hey, now we definitely know she isn't human. I mean we knew before...and now I'm just grasping at straws. God," he laughed. He got her to join in and helped her make a soufflé because he knew it would make her feel better.

"I'm actually impressed that you knew how to go out and buy eggs," she said when they were done and waiting for it to finish baking.

"I looked it up before I left," he admitted, smiling.

Clara laughed and kissed his cheek. He smiled again, this time a smile of appreciation.

"You know I'm here if you ever want to talk," he said suddenly.

"Course."

"Anything at all," he said, as if expecting her to say something.

"Vice versa," she said, straightening his bow tie and taking their ruined soufflé out of the oven.

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That's it. Please vo....well toy know the drill.