Title: Even Time Lords Get Tired
Author: wavingkilts
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Length: 679
Characters/Pairings: The Doctor (12th), Clara
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Author notes: This is for the prompt: Midnight from fan_flashworks! I know I write so many of these but I can never seem to help myself.... they just happen *giggles* The reference to the jumper is from my fic The Jumper Thief. :) and the Vareshan Varetop being from both Furry Problem and One Big Ball of Fluff
Summary: “So it's true?” “Go away...” “Even Time Lords get tired sometimes.” “You really are hilarious Clara Oswald.”
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who! Belongs to the BBC! I own the Vareshan Varetop and the sea monster mentioned :D

Clara was stood wrapped up in the jumper she'd nicked from the Doctor, sleeves hanging over her hands, the long hem hiding her shorts like a dress, hanging just above her knees. She was busying herself making one last steaming mug of green tea to take up to bed with her when a familiar whirring sounded through her home. She could hear the fluttering of her pile of messily stacked assignments flying all over the place and she sighed, pulling the draw open finding a tea spoon to stir the tea bag before dropping it in the bin.

She smiled, grasping the mug in her sleeve covered hands and stepped through into the living room, raising an eyebrow at the open door of the TARDIS. He rarely ever left the door open if he was somewhere deep inside the ship. She sipped quietly at her tea, shuffling across the floor towards the humming TARDIS in a pair of fuzzy socks the Doctor had let her borrow after an adventure that caused them to end up waist deep in a lake with some strange looking sea monster that looked more like big snake with a yellow-y gold lions mane and a pair of big bright blue cats eyes. It was a rather strange looking beast indeed.

She started to worry when there was a snuffling sound coming from the other side of her couch.

“Doctor?”

“Mmmph...”

She sighed in relief that it was actually him and not something he'd harboured away in the depths of his TARDIS... like the Vareshan Varetop in which she had managed to persuade him to keep. She crept round quietly, seeing his boots only.

“Are... are you okay?”

“Yes...” came the short reply, croaky and quite. She bit back a smile. People only spoke like that when they were tired or about to cry and she was quite sure it wasn't the latter. She slipped over the arm of her couch and leaned against one of the big back cushions. She couldn't help herself, covering her mouth to try and hide her giggles. She bowed her head, her heart fluttering in her chest just at the sight there before her.

There... the rebellious, loud, annoyingly wonderful, arrogant, rude Time Lord lay, face down on the floor, eyes closed and for once he looked relaxed. His hair was a complete mess, his coat sleeves were pushed up from how he had landed and the back was rumpled and his trousers were creased and covered in a reddish dust. She couldn't quite believe how, silent he was. How calm he looked, almost like everything wrong in his life and everything that hurt just fell away, just from having his face buried in her fluffy cream rug.

“So it's true?”

“Go away...”

“Even Time Lords get tired sometimes.”

“You really are hilarious Clara Oswald.”

“I know.” she said with a tired smile, as he opened one eye, looking up at her on the couch. “Come up on the couch.”

“No... to much effort.”

“Don't be ridiculous get up would you?” she quipped with a quiet giggled, poking the back of his knee with her toe. He gave her a rather funny, half-hearted glare with his one open eye before closing it again, huffing out,

“I am ridiculous, it's midnight now leave me alone.”

“It's my house.”

“Clara.” he whispered and she tilted her head slightly, wondering if he was going to carry on, but no more words left his lips, just soft snores and she couldn't leave him alone, lying on the floor in her living room, so she lay herself down on the couch, peering over the edge. Her stomach knotted and her heart was in a mess. She bit her lip, brushing a strand of his wild grey curls out of his face.

With her mug of tea abandoned and one look at the living room clock, she leaned into the cushions and closed her eyes with a whisper,

“Goodnight Doctor.”