A/N: This was written as a Patreon reward after K-Box made a five dollar pledge, so thanks/blame go out to him.
*****
All it took was one look.
For a while now, Clara had saved on shopping money by 'borrowing' outfits from the TARDIS's voluminous wardrobe. When Danny had suggested a beach outing, she had decided she might as well impress and gone immediately to the 51
st
century aisle, where most of the swimsuits were just bracelets that activated into towels when you were done swimming. But finally, she found a more conservative model.
The front of it was a small black triangle, the back not quite covering her ass, while the top barely contained her breasts—large and scrumptious no matter how the Doctor joked. The tight black material could almost be leather. Her creamy skin spilled out in all directions from the modest cover of the suit's top and bottom.
Gathering her everyday wear in her arms, Clara left the wardrobe, emerging out into the TARDIS chamber where the Doctor was working a feather quill over a long length of parchment. She cleared her throat. He didn't look up, his beady eyes focused intently on what he was doing. She cleared her throat again.
"One
moment,
Clara, you do know I'm not the other one, yes? I won't just drop everything because you've stubbed your toe or caught fire or some such..." He underlined a passage, then looked up. "Yes, yes, what is it?"
Clara gestured to herself. "How do I look?"
"Same as always, I expect. Skin, nervous system, bits of hair scattered around the place..." He turned back to his parchment and jotted down a quick addition.
"The swimsuit, Doctor," Clara insisted, verging on irritation. "How does it look? And before you get flip, how does it look
on me
?"
The Doctor scanned the parchment, rather like Clara going over a lesson plan. "Oh, on you, there's an important distinction. That's a Lanpreyan Eelskin bikini, so I'm sure if you asked the eel, it would think that it looks better on it, but you shouldn't pay them too much mind, they're lazy buggers, hate doing the
work
of growing a new one." He circled one particular sigil, then looked up. Now Clara seemed to catch his eye. He scrambled up from the desk, fixing her with a stare that took Clara aback.
"Oh... oh, Clara Oswald, you have my apologies."
"I... do?"
The Doctor went to the left. Clara went to the right, feeling rather like she was playing a game of football with him. "Yes! I see now! The expanse of skin on display, the needy conversation, the pheromone levels, it's quite obvious you're in heat."
"Doctor?" Clara said, almost too confused to be affronted, which she thought was how he liked her. "I am not in—humans don't even have mating seasons or cycles..."
"Oh, don't be daft, of course you do. And I am quite sorry that I didn't see it sooner, I can only imagine how embarrassed you. Probably had a devil of a time trying to find properly colorful feathers to attract a mate
on the waterfall world of Vexon Prime!"
"You're thinking of peacocks, Doctor."