AN: Hello! It's been a while, but I'm trying to get back on the fanfiction train. Finally moved out to college, which is good, as my family was really hard to get inspiration around/write around/actually do things I wanted to do around. I will be writing primarily Doctor Who stuff though. I have this big story I've been sitting on/stewing over/started writing since before the end of season 9, and I definitely want to get that up and published. Until then, enjoy my weird little musings :)


"Why don't you flip the sonic anymore?" Clara asked.

A small furrow appeared on the Doctor's forehead. "What do you mean 'flip the sonic'? Like this?" He clicked the top part open. "I do that plenty!"

"No, no- I mean where you throw it end over end and catch it. It used to be like a nervous tic for you," Clara teased. "I bet you forgot how."

"Well just because I don't doesn't mean I can't," the Doctor said, looking annoyed.

"Oh? Well then prove it," Clara gestured at it, challenging him with her eyes.

"There's nothing to prove," the Doctor retorted with a wry smirk. He tossed it up, and it completed a few smooth flips- away from him. It rolled right under the console, as if taunting his old age with having to bend down. After he'd sheepishly retrieved it, Clara sidled up to him and asked,

"Still got it, huh?"

"Shut up."