*The 12th Doctor is severly underrated, I personally adore the man!
I would love to see more people write fanfics about 12 :) little side rant*
Before, it was just a man and his box.
But one day, he finds someone oddly intriguing on their first enc...
The Doctor and {Y/n} stood around in the TARDIS doing nothing dangerous for a change. Unless you count reading as one.
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She's kept the Doctor company for a while now and couldn't remember the last time she left to go back to work. Or do anything really.
She realized the amount of trouble she would be in when she did return. That's if she even chooses to return to work. Don't get me wrong, she loves her job, but theirs just something about travelling with the Doctor she finds so thrilling. It gives her life. A better life.
The thought of her giving up the adventures she had with him made her sad. She couldn't just leave behind the danger that caused that familiar flow of adrenaline to pump around her veins. It was a rush. An addiction.
Like a drug, she couldn't give up. The temptation grew large within her and bubbled inside her, spreading to each limb like a disease.
They were just too good to give up. Besides, a little time off work never hurt anyone.
The thought of getting into a lot of trouble sort of reminded her of the times she had back at school when messing around with her friends during intervals.
The feeling brought nostalgic memories.
After spending most of her time going on adventures nonstop, she was subdued yet thankful when the Doctor suggested that she take a short break from them.
☆ Time skip ☆
"I'm bored," she moans at the top of the gallery down to the Doctor who worked on his bench.
"Go play the guitar or something then," he suggests in deep concentration.
"I've got a better idea. Why don't we phone Clara? Can't remember the last time we saw Clara. When was she even last aboard this ship?" She asked sliding down the railings and landing on her feet.
"Well, it has been a while," he says.
"So, can we?"
"Can we what?" The Doctor strains.
"Can we phone her?" She smiles, awaiting his answer.
"If it means so much to you," He says, pressing down on something and straining hard while doing so before giving up when it wasn't budging.
"But for your information, she has been trying to get in touch with me," he adds, straining again this time making some veins stand out on his forehead.
"And you didn't think to call her back?" She asked.
"I was planning to," He proclaims, withdrawing his hand and sighing, taking a brake.
"I'm just messing with you," she smiled stopping next to him with an irritable smirk.
"What have I said about doing that. I'm against the bantering. It's not even bantering if it isn't funny!" he squabbles.
