For the G-rated prompt-a-thon! Clara, the Doctor, and permission to own a cat.

thescholarlystrumpet:

“That is clearly not a
cat.”

The Doctor looked up
from where he was scratching the alien creature behind one ear. “I never said
it was.”

“I said I wanted a
cat.” Clara asserted.

The Doctor held up one
finger. “You said you wanted a pet. Then you said that you liked cats.” He gestured to the strange animal as it batted
playfully at his sleeve. “It’s very cat-like.”

“It has feathers,” she
pointed out, matter-of-factly.

“And paws. And
whiskers.” Eyebrows knitting, he extricated his sleeve from the tiny claws and
returned to his usual place at the console.

“You’ve got whiskers,
too. Should I call you a cat, now?” she asked, peevishly, her hands coming to
her hips.

“I haven’t got
whiskers. Just haven’t been to the barber planet in a few days.” Without
looking away from the screen in front of him, he held out a hand toward her,
palm out. “Yes, there’s a barber planet. No, we’re not going. It’s very boring.
And a bit… foamy.”

“Doctor, this thing breathes fire!” Clara
pointed out in a tone of exasperation.

“Oh, that?” The Doctor
looked nonplussed. He’d been just as unbothered when the not-cat coughed up
smoke a few minutes earlier. “Just a little sulfur it ate, earlier. Won’t
normally do that. At least, I think it won’t. Just don’t feed it sulfur.”

“Oh, you think so? Is
there a veterinary planet we can take it to, then?”

“Veterinary planet?
Now you’re just being ridiculous. Do you know how many species there are in the
universe? Not counting all the ones that are extinct in this point in time?” He
finally looked up from his typing, blinking at her.

“I don’t know. But I
bet you think at least half of them are cats,” she muttered, sauntering reluctantly
over to where the feathered, six limbed animal had curled up near The Doctor’s
feet.

“I heard that.”

“You were supposed
to.” Clara heaved a great sigh and lowered herself to the ground, legs tucked
under her. The not-cat blinked split-pupiled eyes at her, all three of them.
She hesitantly extended a hand toward it, ready to pull back at any sign of
teeth. She supposed there was
something rather endearing about its snub nose and the way its whiskers wiggled
as it sniffed her. It made a sound somewhere between a chirp and a sneeze. Then
it lowered its head, butting at her extended hand. Clara took the hint and
scratched its ears.

“See? It likes you,”
The Doctor asserted, looking down at the two of them, his expression unreadable.

Clara arched an
eyebrow at him. “How do you know?”

“Well, it hasn’t tried
to kill or eat you.”

Clara pursed her lips.
“You’re hilarious.”

“Indeed I am. But that
fact aside, it does like you. Listen, it’s purring.”

Clara continued
petting the creature and leaned in toward it. It was, indeed, emitting a low
purring sound. Its eyes had fallen closed under her ministrations. Clara
realized she was smiling at it and bit her lower lip. The not-cat gave a quiet
little yawn and rolled onto its back, exposing a round belly covered in shorter
feathers. It blinked sleepily at her, as though asking for belly rubs and she
found she couldn’t help but comply.

“I suppose it isn’t terribly uncatlike…” It was really very
soft and warm beneath her hand. She supposed she could get used to the feathers
and the three-eye thing. She’d certainly grown accustomed to much stranger
sights in her time on the Tardis.

“Thought you two might
get along.” The Doctor eased himself to sitting cross-legged beside her. “It
followed me all the way back to the Tardis. Yowled at me the whole way.
Wouldn’t have anything but to come in and make itself at home.”

Clara shook her head,
feeling that familiar fondness as she met The Doctor’s gaze. “And you just can’t
resist taking in a bossy stray?” she teased.

The corner of his
mouth quirked before he turned away. When he replied, his voice was low. “Apparently
not.”

Clara bit back a grin.
She shifted to one side to make herself more comfortable, leaning on one hand
as the other stroked the down of the now bonelessly happy creature. Slowly,
ever so slowly, she allowed herself to lean back, against The Doctor.

She felt him stiffen
slightly but he didn’t move away. In his own time, he relaxed, one arm
tentatively encircling her. Clara sighed, contentedly, her head coming to rest
on his shoulder. They sat in near silence accompanied by only the whirring of
the Tardis in flight and the purring of Clara’s new cat.