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[attackbrows]

	You've reached Dr. Funkenstein. Expert on all things funkadelic. Please, by all means, save us both the hassle and don't leave a message.
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[attackbrows]

Inside the farm attic. I had an entire route mapped out until River intervened. Something about the neighbours giving us looks and asking too many questions.

[bossily]

What, you actually listened? And here I was worried how you'd manage without me for an entire month.

[attackbrows]

Of course I listened. We're married. I wasn't about to make this a one-way communication conduit where it's through one ear and out the other. Then we'd have to seek out a marriage counsellor and it'll get only messier. And I don't do messy.

I'm a simple man who invents things for a living.

[bossily]

Go on, then. Tell me what else you've invented.

[attackbrows]

Water Diagnoser Matrix. Reinforced Storage Refiner Mechanism. Synthetic Clay Assembler Widget. Precise Blackout Transferator Kit. Precise Road Monitron.

Just to name a few.

[bossily]

All very impressive. Even if I don't know what any of them are supposed to mean. What does the blackout transferator do, exactly?

[attackbrows]

Exactly what you think it does with the word "blackout" in it: Turns off the lights with a blink of an eye.

Gone are the days of clapping the lights off. In this town, we are moving on to a more subtle, passive way of handling appliances.

[bossily]

Have you actually tested it to see if it works? Because that actually sounds useful, you clever cog.

[attackbrows]

Of course I tested it. You remember when I made that invisibility watch? That took several attempts and a concerned policeman before I brought it to Coal Hill.

[bossily]

So do I need to use the blackout thing as an excuse to see you? Or are you ever gonna tell me where you are?

[attackbrows]

What if I told you you didn't have to go running around in that dress of yours?

It's a small town. Easy to spot a familiar face.

[bossily]

are you watching me?

[excuse her while she looks all around trying to spot him]

and are you telling me to take off my dress right now? what else would I go running around in? you didn't bring holographic clothes with you this time around, did you?

[attackbrows]

As we speak.

And don't start ripping off your clothes. You're supposed to blend in, not strutting non-existent catwalks in your support garments.

[bossily]

found you

[And now she's staring right at him, smiling and not doing something ridiculously obvious like waving. he looks...scruffier than the last time she saw him. how cute]

action;

[attackbrows]

[Scruffy might be an understatement to describe how unkempt the Doctor appears. His grey curly locks have grown an inch or two too long, giving him more of a Beethoven-esque style. And while not exactly a beard, his facial hairs allude to one growing if he doesn’t keep it in check.

He looks over her way and returns the hand wave, signalling her to come out and do the hugging thing.]

[bossily]

[Her fingers curl against her mouth as she lowers her hand, laughing to herself. He's certainly ruggedly handsome and charming like this, signaling for her to approach him. Which she does, hurrying her way on over to him.

He's practically tackled in a hug as she leaps forward to embrace him in a tight hug. He's safe and sound, and looking good. What more could she ask for, after having him be here on his own for so long?]

Miss me?

[She's asks when she pulls back, tipping her head to smile up at him.]

[attackbrows]

[Within the grand scheme of things, a month is not a long time. A month to get a better lay of the land and begin the search for the orb’s location. River was a tremendous help in keeping the Doctor in check. She was probably one of the very few people in his inner circle who understood his different eccentricities and needs.

But he thought about Clara more than he will ever admit in front of her.

Her smile. Her wit. Her everything. It never really is the same with the Doctor running around without Clara to turn to. And so when she goes to hug him, he smiles and leans in to wrap his arms around her. It was as if they never left each other for an entire month.

The Doctor pulls away the same time she does, raising an eyebrow at such a question.]

When do I not miss you?

[bossily]

[That answer is one that puts a wide smile on her face. And she loses track of herself as she looks up at him, admiring his newfound scruffiness. Eventually she does realize she's staring though, and tries to play it cool from that point on.

It's hard to do with the way she's smiling.]

Dunno. Thought you might, what with spending an entire month alone with your wife.

[She teases, reaching up to press her hand atop his incredibly fluffy hair. Her touch drops down to his cheek, palm pressing warm against him. Her smile never fades, not even when her touch drops away completely.]

Tell me everything you've discovered so far.

[attackbrows]

What? River?

[He notices the way Clara threads through his fluffy hair. It’s the sort of hair that doesn’t require a hat (unless you want the Doctor looking like some deranged Scottie dog). And he’ll be damned if he succumbs to the temptations of his past self.

Either way, when Clara drops her hand down, he starts leading the way back to her room.]

Time’s have changed, Clara. Not in this economy. I’m just a simple stay at home husband, making things are tidy and bandit-free.

[A beat.]

Now—I’ll tell you what I’ve found after you’ve gone to bed.

[bossily]

[Is he...sending her to bed?

She's almost so confused by his steering her back toward the saloon that she isn't sure what to do or say at first.]

Why do I need to go to bed? I'm not even tired.

[Still, she's walking right along with him as he leads the way. That doesn't stop her from glancing up at him like he's grown a second head. Sometimes he takes his duty of care a little too far. Like by giving her a bedtime.]

[attackbrows]

About that, Clara.

[There goes that face again. That face he makes when he has to break something to Clara that he knows might get a smack from her.]

I wasn’t going to mention it to you but your eyes are starting to sink into your face crevice. Figured you and someone else would have a kip before landing here but now we’re reaching catastrophic black hole levels of facial implosion.

[bossily]

[She gasps in offense, digging her heels in.]

What do you mean, you figured me and someone else? What are you trying to say, Doctor?

[He is now wading into dangerous territory, with her bristling and deciding if she wants to give him a smack for being an ass. She knows he doesn't typically mean anything by his insulting her physical appearance, but she's peeved by his insisting she go to bed like she's some sort of child that needs to be told what's best for her.]

[attackbrows]

Who else was I supposed to say?! You know I don’t sleep. I thought you’d form yourself some sort of sleep club with the other human types aboard. Read a little Dostoevsky before calling it in.

[Honestly, he cannot find fault in what he said. Everyone likes sleeping. Who wouldn’t grin at the suggestion of falling asleep for a few hours?]

I’m just saying that you get some sleep before we do anything else. Not perform the macarena in front of a stadium Cybermen!

[bossily]

[She stares up at him in near disbelief, but believes what he's saying. He doesn't usually intend on offending her. And she's a little wound tight and easily offended right now.]

I had someone I could've shared a bed with. But I don't anymore.

[Which is about all she's going to reveal about her recent romantic entanglement. Thankfully, she doesn't necessarily make it sound like one.]

When I'm tired, I'll sleep. Okay?

[Her tone's light by the end, careful not to seek an argument. She just wants to appease him and let him know that she's heard him and she'll consider resting. ]

[attackbrows]

[The Doctor stops mid-step and rests a hand on top of his right hip.]

And what if I told you I want to go to bed?

[A beat for him to explain.]

I’m due for my sleep cycle. If I don’t tuck in for a cat nap then I’ll start to see spots. Or worse— [He raises his eyebrows.] I might start singing a jaunty tune out of delusion.