[Grinning, she sits up straighter in her chair. Their rhythm has always been seamless, no matter the distance in space and time, and knowing not a beat has been missed lifts a bit of the day's gloom.]
Well, for starters, it's actually where the Plains States used to be, before they decided to move to their own moon colony. But more interesting is that its Prime Minister is a bionic dog. I thought you'd like that bit.
[There we go, just the reaction she was looking for.]
She is a very good girl, I can assure you. We met at a reception, after I saved Atlantic City from a meteorite. [A beat.] The new Atlantic City, that is. Less casinos, more cornfields.
[It's pleasant, upbeat chatter, just the kind the Doctor used to do when he was trying to distract her from something worse - "Oh, never mind the flashing alarm on the console - did you know that on some planets, squids are bipedal?"]
Nothing wrong with a good cornfield! Not that I've ever been in one outside of Deerington... actually, you know what? Casino may be preferable. I haven't had to deal with an evil casino in Deerington before.
[He rubs a hand over his neck, blowing out a breath of Great Uncertainty as he looks at her.]
... Right?
Or did we have an evil casino somewhere and I'm just not remember it yet?
Fake funeral pamphlets? [She screws up her brow, managing to look very much like a stern mother.] The pizza machine's all you told me about. That and the giant swimming pool. I wasn't actually there, remember?
[The long nap she took, before waking up to an unrecognizable, apocalyptic wreck.]
[For someone who's managed a secret identity for years, Peter Parker sure is a terrible liar. Clara just sets her eyes on him, clearly unimpressed from the pinch of her lips.]
And how did you find the spa? Is there a special massage for spider muscles?
[She meant how was the spa, not how did he literally discover its physical location, but at least the poor lad got there eventually.]
Good to know you still have your priorities straight, after all this time. I was afraid I'd come back after a hundred years and you'd have taken up a fad diet.
[It's not like she thought he'd take it lightly. In fact, this is precisely the reaction she was anticipating: eyes wide, voice high, completely flabbergasted. But she's never been one for ceremony, when it comes to saying things that need to be said. Better to drop it in like an accident than get him all worked up first. And with decades of solitude under her belt, that instinct has only been sharpened and honed.]
I look pretty good for a hundred and thirty, yeah?
[A fact, more than a brag. She still doesn't look a day over twenty-eight; not even her hair has grown.]
[Yeah, the not looking any older thing is really throwing him for a loop. She's an old lady! He'll never say that, of course, because he doesn't have a death wish -- but still. After a moment of dumbfounded staring, he says:]
[His reaction is a bit more discomforted than Clara had hoped, and it puts a tinge of regret in her stomach, knowing she's not quite the woman Peter thought he was getting back. Is he sad? Wary? Somewhere in the last century, she's lost some of her intuitive ability to tell.]
Always a planet that needs saving. The job doesn't come with vacation days.
[Nor has she had much of a desire to take any. Stopping means dwelling, and that's never pleasant.]
[His amazement lessens, but doesn't quite leave his face. If anything, the wonder grows a touch sentimental. Surprised.]
All that time doing all of that work... I can't imagine still being able to remember lil' ol me after all of that. I must be too big a beefcake to forget, huh?
[He laughs weakly at his own half-hearted joke.
Really, he's just happy to know all that time, and she still remembers Peter Parker.
But then, he's never put as much value in Peter as he does in Spider-Man.
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Well, for starters, it's actually where the Plains States used to be, before they decided to move to their own moon colony. But more interesting is that its Prime Minister is a bionic dog. I thought you'd like that bit.
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[Peter holds up his hands, looking absolutely gripped by one particular key point in this ridiculous list-off:]
Bionic dog. A bionic dog!
Is he a good boy? Or, sorry, a good girl? It's the 55th century, we don't have time for assumptions.
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She is a very good girl, I can assure you. We met at a reception, after I saved Atlantic City from a meteorite. [A beat.] The new Atlantic City, that is. Less casinos, more cornfields.
[It's pleasant, upbeat chatter, just the kind the Doctor used to do when he was trying to distract her from something worse - "Oh, never mind the flashing alarm on the console - did you know that on some planets, squids are bipedal?"]
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[He rubs a hand over his neck, blowing out a breath of Great Uncertainty as he looks at her.]
... Right?
Or did we have an evil casino somewhere and I'm just not remember it yet?
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I'm an old woman now, Peter. Don't ask me to think back that far.
[A beat.]
We didn't, though. Evil hotel, yes; evil casino, no.
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[He stops, hand on his chin, and then turns to her again.]
Eck, that was the one with the fake funeral pamphlets, wasn't it?
But we got really cool rooms. Mine had a pizza-making machine!
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[The long nap she took, before waking up to an unrecognizable, apocalyptic wreck.]
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He holds up his hands, laughing weakly.]
Right. Did I say funeral pamphlets? Totally didn't say that! I meant hotel pamphlets. Y'know, with spa info and wifi passwords, and all that!
[😔]
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And how did you find the spa? Is there a special massage for spider muscles?
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[Said so defeatedly. He know that look. No use being a lying liar to lies.]
It was a really nice spa, though.
... Free little chocolates, too.
[This is the person you've adopted as your orphaned brother, Clara.]
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Good to know you still have your priorities straight, after all this time. I was afraid I'd come back after a hundred years and you'd have taken up a fad diet.
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Expectedly.]
A hundred years?
You were gone for a hundred years?
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I look pretty good for a hundred and thirty, yeah?
[A fact, more than a brag. She still doesn't look a day over twenty-eight; not even her hair has grown.]
Time flies when you're playing Doctor.
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... Uhh.
You've been really busy, huh?
[Yeah, that sounds about right.]
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Always a planet that needs saving. The job doesn't come with vacation days.
[Nor has she had much of a desire to take any. Stopping means dwelling, and that's never pleasant.]
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[His amazement lessens, but doesn't quite leave his face. If anything, the wonder grows a touch sentimental. Surprised.]
All that time doing all of that work... I can't imagine still being able to remember lil' ol me after all of that. I must be too big a beefcake to forget, huh?
[He laughs weakly at his own half-hearted joke.
Really, he's just happy to know all that time, and she still remembers Peter Parker.
But then, he's never put as much value in Peter as he does in Spider-Man.
It's a work in progress.]