[ as always, he can always play along with her humor. besides, maybe he does feel a little guilty in saying what he did even if he doesn't actually believe it to be true. ]
I'm ... sorry I said that about you. [ see? he's well capable at apologies. ] It doesn't actually bother me. If people know.
[ that's really the worrisome one, isn't it? and honestly the only one that's given him much thought. because as much as he knows the doctor cares about clara, he's not entirely sure what their take would be about someone who's sleeping with her.
though, considering all he's been through with them, he'd hope it wouldn't be instant disapproval. ]
[she takes a moment to replay through her mind the advice she had gotten from the Doctor back when Porridge had proposed to her. Then comes the Doctor's reaction to Danny.
Her smile grows tight and thin. This is fine.]
I'm not sure what to expect from either of them. But I know that their opinion wouldn't change what I want.
[She pauses, blurting out this next part before she can think better of it.]
Does that mean we're putting a label on things now?
[ that's the thing with the doctor. both of them. their unpredictable nature is so much so that even with his own envoy intuition, something that makes him a little more aware on how to predict reflexes and reactions based on detail, he's not really sure he could get a read on them.
but his attention defers from the doctor when she suddenly poses that other question, catching him off guard. ]
You ... want to put a label on it?
[ because the truth is, he doesn't know. he's never put a label on anything. and even here, he's ... well, considering the shakiness of the future, he's not sure what it means to even do that here. ]
[Maybe this is a conversation better had face to face. It feels like something better discussed close together. She's just...going to be trying to hunt his ass down now.]
Not everything needs a label.
[She points out her opinion on that, heading into the kitchen to see if he's in there raiding the booze. Nope. She keeps right on going.]
But when it comes to us, and what we feel? A label could feel nice.
[She can't bring herself to outright say yes, in case he rejects that idea. She's not sure she could take it, so she's being cautiously optimistic right now.]
[ he can suddenly see her seemingly on the move, his own self having just been sitting on his own in the sunlight room — or rather, the snow room, as of right now — settling quietly on one of the benches to enjoy a peaceful cigarette.
the ash burns at the tip of the stick though, his mind more occupied on what she's saying. ]
I just ... [ he doesn't want to say no, because it's not that he's outright refusing. but it's not exactly the kind of thing he's done before.
labels aren't just really a thing for him. particularly with the kind of relationships he's had. ]
I figured that was the case. Which is why I don't have to have a label.
[She heads through the common area before making her way to the sunlight room to look around. It's not that hard to find him here, the cloud of cigarette smoke leading her right to him.
She's in one of her little dresses, not exactly meant for the artificial chill in the air. When she sits on the bench beside him, it's close enough she can feel some of his body heat to help keep her warm.
It's quiet here. Pretty romantic of a setting, too. Almost perfect for this conversation.]
What is it you want? You say you've never done this before. Do you even want to?
[ he sees her appear in the room, petite but standing out against the stark white of the snow. it isn't quite as cold as it could be, the lighter chill not quite matching the appearance of the weather, but seeing her in that dress almost makes him tempted to pull himself around her just to make sure she doesn't freeze to death anyway.
but he just watches her as she sits beside him, lowering his cigarette now to focus his attention to her at his side. ]
I want .... to be around you. [ for a man keen on bluntness, it comes out a bit more bashful than intended, lips pressing together almost awkwardly. it's things like this where his confidence tends to shake, mostly when the circumstances are complicated and he's not sure whether to push beyond the surface of what seems like what's allowed.
he thinks of making a deal for her sake, how trying to make sure she stays alive might ultimately mean not being with her. because that's inevitable, isn't it? he always has to let go eventually. he's always had to. how can he label something that he knows he'll need to give up sometime? ]
Right now, I don't ... need anything or anyone more than that. [ just you. ]
[She catches that anyone else, and it puts one of those ridiculously smitten smiles on her face. One that she tries to hide by ducking her head for a moment.
Rather than saying anything at first, she simply reaches over to rest her hand atop his.
She's come to accept the fact that she's going to leave this place and go back to face her death. She can do it on her own time, leaving her with a bittersweet sense of near-panic. She wants to protect the Doctor from having to experience her loss. She can keep him from having to completely betray his moral code because of her. It's selfish to want something like a lover or a relationship, cruel to even consider putting a label on something that has a set expiration date.
She's resigned herself to the fact that maybe she isn't meant to live. Maybe she doesn't deserve to.
But she can help him learn how to live again in her time here. Her thumb traces along the edge of his hand.]
And here I was starting to worry you were sick of being around me.
[Her head turns as she quietly chuckles at her awful attempt at humor. Dark eyes take in the look of him out here in the chilly snow, and she commits the sight to memory.]
[ it's the most of a confession that he could give, for all the little that he understands what to do about any of this, with what they're doing, with what he's feeling for her, with how it's all ties in together with what they're doing in this place and what it's supposed to be mean outside of it. everything about this is shaky and uncertain, and the outcome of it all is too much of a mystery considering what they're all trying to bargain for.
but one thing he knows for sure is what he has now, in the soft slide of her fingers over his skin, in the way she ducks her head to hide a bigger smile that he knows is there.
a part of him wants to kiss her, to just kiss her without stopping, taste her lips until he can no longer breathe, but another part of him just wants to look at her like this, to memorize every piece of her, every twist of her smile, every soft glint of her eyes, store it all in his dhf so it never leaves his memory, even when he leaves this place. ]
Trust me. If I got sick of someone, you'd know.
[ it's not like he's one to hide it if someone were to really bother him, most of what he puts up with in terms of the station's company making it evident that he doesn't actually mind them as much as his responses might typically suggest.
with her hand on his, he uses that contact to carefully raise her hand up to hide face, lips gentle to a knuckle. ] I'm just ... glad you've stuck around me.
[His words make her frown just a little. He's been nothing but good to her. Never been cruel, never been the asshole he claims to be. She knows this is new territory for him, and figures he just doesn't think he deserves to be happy.]
You've been nothing but good to me.
[She points out, eyebrow arching as she makes eye contact with him.]
Good for me, too. I can't say that about any of my other relationships.
[Maybe they haven't known each other for long. But he's managed to give her a tether, provide her with a touchstone to stay grounded with. Beyond that, he's given her hope. Despite their differences, they just fit. Everything feels simple and like it comes naturally with him. It almost feels too good to be true, particularly when she often thinks she doesn't deserve something like this.
But she doesn't want him to feel uncomfortable talking about this. It's with a fond smile that she looks back out to the scenery around him. There's a slight edge of urgency that wants her to lean in to kiss him, but she refrains for now. There's something about the simplicity of sitting here, holding hands and talking quietly that feels intimate in a new way. She does, however, keep their hands joined as she leans over to rest her head against his shoulder.]
[ he wouldn't imagine himself as good for anybody, not in any way that's healthy, since most things with him tend to come with a brand of trouble attached, like a magnet for danger no matter what body he finds himself in. but despite his acknowledgement that she should stay away from him, he also feels inclined to want her close, to hope she finds reason to stick around him, and she does.
she gives him something to keep his thoughts on, someone to give him genuine reasons to smile especially with as little as he does it, and despite how different they are, he feels like there's more that connects them than doesn't, like for all that he's missing, she fills up the gaps.
with the lean of her head on his shoulder, he turns his head to look at her resting there, quiet for the moment that he simply watches her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips before he tilts his own head gently against hers, eyes turning to peer out to the snow in front of their as their hands entwine together in a warm laced hold. ]
Not what most people say about me. [ but he's not going to correct her, if only because he really wants it to be true. wants to believe he can be good for somebody. and if he could somehow keep her safe, then maybe that gives him a chance to be just that.
so finally, he adds, ] But I'll stick around, as long as you want me to.
[She picks up on the fact that he doesn't correct her. And she isn't sure if it's because he desperately wants to believe it, or if he doesn't want to discount the way she feels. Saying something right after that feels like it cheapens the sentiment he's just put out in the open, so she allows things to slip into a comfortable silence for a while.
She watches the snow and tries to imagine a normal life together where they could go to the park and do something mundane like this. It wouldn't suit either of them, she quickly decides. They both deserve a happy life, but neither of them would be content just being idle. Even if that's exactly what's so nice about being here with him now.
They don't have to do anything. No words are needed. It's companionship at its most basic form. ]
Daisy's coming over for a bit tonight.
[She eventually speaks up, lifting her head off his shoulder. As warm as he is and as close as they're sitting, she's starting to get a bit of a chill just being still.]
Want me to come find you after we're done drinking and gossiping?
[ that's probably the strangest thing about all of this — the silence. it isn't often that he could have moments like this with another person; usually, when it's silent, it's only him there, left along to his own thoughts, left vulnerable and open for the ghosts to appear at any time. but being with her, there's an appreciation for the silence, for the stillness of it, especially with the present falling snow, like he could live in a peace for a moment, however brief it may end up being.
and eventually, she does lift her head, prompting him to lift his own as he looks at her while she tells him of her intentions for the night. he lifts a brow, all too curiously, ]
Gossiping? Don't tell me you're gonna bring me up in the conversation.
[ then again, daisy had already asked him about them, so it's more than likely that she'll end up asking clara about it one-on-one. he sighs, at least relieved he could dodge the league of questions. ]
But yeah. Doubt I'll sleep early, so — yeah, I'll be around, if you're looking to find me.
[That first part earns an eyebrow waggle and a coy grin. Oh, she knows for a fact that Daisy will be asking about him. It isn't a matter of if, just when it'll happen.
As she moves to stand up, she steps over and wedges her way to stand between his legs. One of her hands rests against his shoulder, stabilizing her as she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead.]
I'll be sure to let you know everything she says about your roommate later tonight.
[She can't help but grin in a conspiratorial sort of way, like he's actually eager to hear anything about it. A peck to his lips seals the deal. He's bound to listen to all of it now, no takesie backsies.]
[ when she stands, shifting her way to stand before his legs, he parts his knees almost on reflex, getting her the room to settle in between them as his hands go to her waist, eyes briefly closing as she presses her lips soft against his forehead, soothing for as short as the gesture is.
he blinks his eyes open again with her comment, nose scrunching with a squint as he peers up at her with a quizzed look. ]
Who says I wanna know anything about—?
[ but she shuts him up with a kiss, lips pursing a bit as a result, even if his squinted stare lingers for another beat before finally softening, like he's defeated, thumbs rubbing absentmindedly at her hips. ]
Just ... don't talk about me so much.
[ it's not necessarily a serious ask, and not even a real concern. he knows clara's probably not going to say anything too personal about him, and he's not even against her bringing him up in conversation; when it comes to being a topic of conversation, he's plenty used to being talked about. is he just awkward about the kind of context she might talk about him in? possibly. ]
[She questions him with a laugh, giving a light shake of her head. There's a slight shift as she slips out from between his legs, holding her good hand out to him. It's a silent invitation to get up and walk with her for a bit. ]
Sorry, it's just...I'm not used to hearing men say they don't want to be talked about.
[Which probably goes to show his ego isn't the same as men she's used to dealing with. Or men from Earth, at least.]
[ he stares at her offered hand like he's debating it, though there's never much of a question as to whether or not he'd go on to accept it, even if he sighs first, giving the faux impression like it's somehow a chore. but the way he easily takes her fingers again, like he's grown accustomed to fitting them together, says otherwise.
rising to his feet, he begins to take careful steps, bearing in mind their difference in height, keeping long legs in rhythm with hers. ]
Well, usually when I'm talked about it, it comes with a certain reputation attached. [ the not-good kind. ] I'm not typically the kind of guy people carry warm-hearted stories about.
Hmmm. [She makes a sound that's far too playful to come across as her actually having to think something over.] It must be your determination to make everyone think you're a real jerk.
[She gives their arms a little swing as they walk, enjoying the way the snow crunches beneath their feet. She could spend hours out here with him. It's almost like an escape away from the rest of the station that they can explore hand in hand.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan on bringing you up. Your reputation and bad boy image will be well-preserved.
[Like that actually matters to him. Or maybe it does, when it comes to other people here.]
Yeah, would really hate to spread the false word that I'm a nice guy or something.
[ even if he has absolutely no problem with being nice to certain people, particularly to her. because even a little arm swing feels a bit out of his realm, but he can feel the ease of it from her, and if there's something to make her feel more comfortable, he's not going to complain much.
besides, the walk itself is nice, and even if they're still well deep in the heart of the station, the change in scenery does feel like they could have stepped away to a different world, even for just a little while, which definitely beats the cabin fever of being trapped on here. a part of him wishes her could do just that, leave his place, with her hand in his, taking her someplace where the snow is real and there's a wider world to explore.
he knows she can't, that if she leaves here, she'll die, and he can't leave until he makes sure she survives. and when she does survive — he knows he won't be able to take her anywhere.
brushing away the thought, he absentmindedly squeezes her hand tighter but doesn't draw attention to it, looking ahead. ]
This party — I don't ... have to dress up or do anything weird, do I? [ considering the doctors are involved, he'd imagine that's usually the case. ] Just show up and I'm good?
Dress up? [Clara cautiously questions, pulling her hand free from his so she can slip away just far enough to start gathering up some snow in her hand. Her mind goes to an actual costume at first, and blames all the times she's had to use the Tardis wardrobe to dress up for various outings.
But this is different, and she realizes after a moment what he's asking.]
No, you don't have to wear anything in particular. [She's still gathering up the snow in her hand. Almost like she's going to make it into a snowball or something.]
Just show up however you like. You could even be covered in ice and snow and it'd be good.
[And about two seconds after that, she lets her snowball fly. She's sadly short enough it probably only hits him on the chest. She wants him not to stress over the party, to just enjoy things that come along with winter and the celebrations it can bring. Christmas is something she enjoys, but it isn't something she wants to force upon him. Throwing balls of snow at one another, though?
She's definitely on board with giving that a try. ]
[ when she suddenly pulls her hand free, he watches her curiously, brow raised as she suddenly starts lingering around the snow, having expected he was just going to walk her back over to her place without any kind of detour. the curiosity peaks when he sees her working to gather the snow itself, remaining where he is, even if he's watching her carefully to see what she's up to.
a moment later, the snowball comes flying at him, splat against his chest, his eyes peering down to catch sight of it at the last split second. it's not a hard hit, nothing he'd have to have dodged for, but he still looks back up to her slowly like she just triggered a challenge. ]
You're right. I could do that.
[ he squats down, almost casually as he pools up a bit of snow into his palm, giving it a squeeze to tighten it further. ]
But if I do — gonna insist you dress to match — [ because he's then swinging his arm, pelting that snowball right towards her. ]
[She's expecting him to throw a snowball at her. But she's somehow still surprised when he actually throws it. There's a moment where her face clearly reads oh shit before she tries ducking. But his snowball manages to hit her right on top of her head. It doesn't hurt in the slightest, but she still gasps as snow piles on top of her head and splatters down into her face.
A few seconds later, the pile on top of her head slides off completely, dropping down to her dress.]
Oh, you think you're so funny. [She's laughing, trying her best to sound put out by his retaliation.]
Do that again, and you'll be sorry!
[She's already scurrying off into the snow like a laughing gremlin to gather up another handful.]
[ when he aims for her, he's cautious enough to at least try to avoid hitting her arm; the snow wouldn't be that hard, but tightened into a ball as it is, it's not gonna fell pleasant when it hits her either, and he's at least going to make sure he doesn't do any actual damage.
getting a straight hit right on her head doesn't count as damage in this case, not when he earns that surprised reaction, watching her gasp as the bits of snow trail down onto her nose.
in a state of his own surprise, mostly in the humor of the sight, he laughs, an unfiltered but light ha! leaving his mouth in a way that rarely happens, bringing up the back of his hand against his mouth to try to stifle it. ]
Got a real kick for threats there, Oswald. Trembling in my boots over here.
[ as he watches her get to gathering more snow, he does a quick step behind the nearest tree before he settles his hand to the ground to tighten a bit more of his own. ]
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[ as always, he can always play along with her humor. besides, maybe he does feel a little guilty in saying what he did even if he doesn't actually believe it to be true. ]
I'm ... sorry I said that about you. [ see? he's well capable at apologies. ] It doesn't actually bother me. If people know.
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It wouldn't bother me either. If people knew. We just have to be careful about how the Doctor finds out.
[It hadn't gone well the last relationship she got into. Not that she's even sure that's what this is. Even though it 100% is.]
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though, considering all he's been through with them, he'd hope it wouldn't be instant disapproval. ]
Think they'd have a bad reaction?
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Her smile grows tight and thin. This is fine.]
I'm not sure what to expect from either of them. But I know that their opinion wouldn't change what I want.
[She pauses, blurting out this next part before she can think better of it.]
Does that mean we're putting a label on things now?
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but his attention defers from the doctor when she suddenly poses that other question, catching him off guard. ]
You ... want to put a label on it?
[ because the truth is, he doesn't know. he's never put a label on anything. and even here, he's ... well, considering the shakiness of the future, he's not sure what it means to even do that here. ]
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Not everything needs a label.
[She points out her opinion on that, heading into the kitchen to see if he's in there raiding the booze. Nope. She keeps right on going.]
But when it comes to us, and what we feel? A label could feel nice.
[She can't bring herself to outright say yes, in case he rejects that idea. She's not sure she could take it, so she's being cautiously optimistic right now.]
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the ash burns at the tip of the stick though, his mind more occupied on what she's saying. ]
I just ... [ he doesn't want to say no, because it's not that he's outright refusing. but it's not exactly the kind of thing he's done before.
labels aren't just really a thing for him. particularly with the kind of relationships he's had. ]
Never really done it before.
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[She heads through the common area before making her way to the sunlight room to look around. It's not that hard to find him here, the cloud of cigarette smoke leading her right to him.
She's in one of her little dresses, not exactly meant for the artificial chill in the air. When she sits on the bench beside him, it's close enough she can feel some of his body heat to help keep her warm.
It's quiet here. Pretty romantic of a setting, too. Almost perfect for this conversation.]
What is it you want? You say you've never done this before. Do you even want to?
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but he just watches her as she sits beside him, lowering his cigarette now to focus his attention to her at his side. ]
I want .... to be around you. [ for a man keen on bluntness, it comes out a bit more bashful than intended, lips pressing together almost awkwardly. it's things like this where his confidence tends to shake, mostly when the circumstances are complicated and he's not sure whether to push beyond the surface of what seems like what's allowed.
he thinks of making a deal for her sake, how trying to make sure she stays alive might ultimately mean not being with her. because that's inevitable, isn't it? he always has to let go eventually. he's always had to. how can he label something that he knows he'll need to give up sometime? ]
Right now, I don't ... need anything or anyone more than that. [ just you. ]
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Rather than saying anything at first, she simply reaches over to rest her hand atop his.
She's come to accept the fact that she's going to leave this place and go back to face her death. She can do it on her own time, leaving her with a bittersweet sense of near-panic. She wants to protect the Doctor from having to experience her loss. She can keep him from having to completely betray his moral code because of her. It's selfish to want something like a lover or a relationship, cruel to even consider putting a label on something that has a set expiration date.
She's resigned herself to the fact that maybe she isn't meant to live. Maybe she doesn't deserve to.
But she can help him learn how to live again in her time here. Her thumb traces along the edge of his hand.]
And here I was starting to worry you were sick of being around me.
[Her head turns as she quietly chuckles at her awful attempt at humor. Dark eyes take in the look of him out here in the chilly snow, and she commits the sight to memory.]
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but one thing he knows for sure is what he has now, in the soft slide of her fingers over his skin, in the way she ducks her head to hide a bigger smile that he knows is there.
a part of him wants to kiss her, to just kiss her without stopping, taste her lips until he can no longer breathe, but another part of him just wants to look at her like this, to memorize every piece of her, every twist of her smile, every soft glint of her eyes, store it all in his dhf so it never leaves his memory, even when he leaves this place. ]
Trust me. If I got sick of someone, you'd know.
[ it's not like he's one to hide it if someone were to really bother him, most of what he puts up with in terms of the station's company making it evident that he doesn't actually mind them as much as his responses might typically suggest.
with her hand on his, he uses that contact to carefully raise her hand up to hide face, lips gentle to a knuckle. ] I'm just ... glad you've stuck around me.
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You've been nothing but good to me.
[She points out, eyebrow arching as she makes eye contact with him.]
Good for me, too. I can't say that about any of my other relationships.
[Maybe they haven't known each other for long. But he's managed to give her a tether, provide her with a touchstone to stay grounded with. Beyond that, he's given her hope. Despite their differences, they just fit. Everything feels simple and like it comes naturally with him. It almost feels too good to be true, particularly when she often thinks she doesn't deserve something like this.
But she doesn't want him to feel uncomfortable talking about this. It's with a fond smile that she looks back out to the scenery around him. There's a slight edge of urgency that wants her to lean in to kiss him, but she refrains for now. There's something about the simplicity of sitting here, holding hands and talking quietly that feels intimate in a new way. She does, however, keep their hands joined as she leans over to rest her head against his shoulder.]
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she gives him something to keep his thoughts on, someone to give him genuine reasons to smile especially with as little as he does it, and despite how different they are, he feels like there's more that connects them than doesn't, like for all that he's missing, she fills up the gaps.
with the lean of her head on his shoulder, he turns his head to look at her resting there, quiet for the moment that he simply watches her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips before he tilts his own head gently against hers, eyes turning to peer out to the snow in front of their as their hands entwine together in a warm laced hold. ]
Not what most people say about me. [ but he's not going to correct her, if only because he really wants it to be true. wants to believe he can be good for somebody. and if he could somehow keep her safe, then maybe that gives him a chance to be just that.
so finally, he adds, ] But I'll stick around, as long as you want me to.
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She watches the snow and tries to imagine a normal life together where they could go to the park and do something mundane like this. It wouldn't suit either of them, she quickly decides. They both deserve a happy life, but neither of them would be content just being idle. Even if that's exactly what's so nice about being here with him now.
They don't have to do anything. No words are needed. It's companionship at its most basic form. ]
Daisy's coming over for a bit tonight.
[She eventually speaks up, lifting her head off his shoulder. As warm as he is and as close as they're sitting, she's starting to get a bit of a chill just being still.]
Want me to come find you after we're done drinking and gossiping?
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and eventually, she does lift her head, prompting him to lift his own as he looks at her while she tells him of her intentions for the night. he lifts a brow, all too curiously, ]
Gossiping? Don't tell me you're gonna bring me up in the conversation.
[ then again, daisy had already asked him about them, so it's more than likely that she'll end up asking clara about it one-on-one. he sighs, at least relieved he could dodge the league of questions. ]
But yeah. Doubt I'll sleep early, so — yeah, I'll be around, if you're looking to find me.
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As she moves to stand up, she steps over and wedges her way to stand between his legs. One of her hands rests against his shoulder, stabilizing her as she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead.]
I'll be sure to let you know everything she says about your roommate later tonight.
[She can't help but grin in a conspiratorial sort of way, like he's actually eager to hear anything about it. A peck to his lips seals the deal. He's bound to listen to all of it now, no takesie backsies.]
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he blinks his eyes open again with her comment, nose scrunching with a squint as he peers up at her with a quizzed look. ]
Who says I wanna know anything about—?
[ but she shuts him up with a kiss, lips pursing a bit as a result, even if his squinted stare lingers for another beat before finally softening, like he's defeated, thumbs rubbing absentmindedly at her hips. ]
Just ... don't talk about me so much.
[ it's not necessarily a serious ask, and not even a real concern. he knows clara's probably not going to say anything too personal about him, and he's not even against her bringing him up in conversation; when it comes to being a topic of conversation, he's plenty used to being talked about. is he just awkward about the kind of context she might talk about him in? possibly. ]
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[She questions him with a laugh, giving a light shake of her head.
There's a slight shift as she slips out from between his legs, holding her good hand out to him. It's a silent invitation to get up and walk with her for a bit. ]
Sorry, it's just...I'm not used to hearing men say they don't want to be talked about.
[Which probably goes to show his ego isn't the same as men she's used to dealing with. Or men from Earth, at least.]
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rising to his feet, he begins to take careful steps, bearing in mind their difference in height, keeping long legs in rhythm with hers. ]
Well, usually when I'm talked about it, it comes with a certain reputation attached. [ the not-good kind. ] I'm not typically the kind of guy people carry warm-hearted stories about.
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[She gives their arms a little swing as they walk, enjoying the way the snow crunches beneath their feet. She could spend hours out here with him. It's almost like an escape away from the rest of the station that they can explore hand in hand.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan on bringing you up. Your reputation and bad boy image will be well-preserved.
[Like that actually matters to him. Or maybe it does, when it comes to other people here.]
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[ even if he has absolutely no problem with being nice to certain people, particularly to her. because even a little arm swing feels a bit out of his realm, but he can feel the ease of it from her, and if there's something to make her feel more comfortable, he's not going to complain much.
besides, the walk itself is nice, and even if they're still well deep in the heart of the station, the change in scenery does feel like they could have stepped away to a different world, even for just a little while, which definitely beats the cabin fever of being trapped on here. a part of him wishes her could do just that, leave his place, with her hand in his, taking her someplace where the snow is real and there's a wider world to explore.
he knows she can't, that if she leaves here, she'll die, and he can't leave until he makes sure she survives. and when she does survive — he knows he won't be able to take her anywhere.
brushing away the thought, he absentmindedly squeezes her hand tighter but doesn't draw attention to it, looking ahead. ]
This party — I don't ... have to dress up or do anything weird, do I? [ considering the doctors are involved, he'd imagine that's usually the case. ] Just show up and I'm good?
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Her mind goes to an actual costume at first, and blames all the times she's had to use the Tardis wardrobe to dress up for various outings.
But this is different, and she realizes after a moment what he's asking.]
No, you don't have to wear anything in particular. [She's still gathering up the snow in her hand. Almost like she's going to make it into a snowball or something.]
Just show up however you like. You could even be covered in ice and snow and it'd be good.
[And about two seconds after that, she lets her snowball fly. She's sadly short enough it probably only hits him on the chest. She wants him not to stress over the party, to just enjoy things that come along with winter and the celebrations it can bring. Christmas is something she enjoys, but it isn't something she wants to force upon him. Throwing balls of snow at one another, though?
She's definitely on board with giving that a try. ]
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a moment later, the snowball comes flying at him, splat against his chest, his eyes peering down to catch sight of it at the last split second. it's not a hard hit, nothing he'd have to have dodged for, but he still looks back up to her slowly like she just triggered a challenge. ]
You're right. I could do that.
[ he squats down, almost casually as he pools up a bit of snow into his palm, giving it a squeeze to tighten it further. ]
But if I do — gonna insist you dress to match — [ because he's then swinging his arm, pelting that snowball right towards her. ]
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A few seconds later, the pile on top of her head slides off completely, dropping down to her dress.]
Oh, you think you're so funny. [She's laughing, trying her best to sound put out by his retaliation.]
Do that again, and you'll be sorry!
[She's already scurrying off into the snow like a laughing gremlin to gather up another handful.]
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getting a straight hit right on her head doesn't count as damage in this case, not when he earns that surprised reaction, watching her gasp as the bits of snow trail down onto her nose.
in a state of his own surprise, mostly in the humor of the sight, he laughs, an unfiltered but light ha! leaving his mouth in a way that rarely happens, bringing up the back of his hand against his mouth to try to stifle it. ]
Got a real kick for threats there, Oswald. Trembling in my boots over here.
[ as he watches her get to gathering more snow, he does a quick step behind the nearest tree before he settles his hand to the ground to tighten a bit more of his own. ]
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