It had, mostly, been Clara's idea t

It had, mostly, been Clara's idea to return to the open mic night on Citoxe's smallest moon. They'd visited before and it had been fun, except for the puppets.

"What's wrong with puppets?" Clara asked The Doctor as he scowled at the small stage where a princess and an evil witch cavorted.

"They can't be trusted," he stated simply and leaned back in his chair, attack eyebrows trained on the miniature scene in front of him.

Clara had just laughed at him.

She had an ulterior motive for wanting to go back to the open mic. Ever since Clara had watched The Doctor riding in to the middle of a medieval arena, pounding bar chords out on his guitar, she'd been stuck. She couldn't get the image of him wailing on that guitar out of her mind. Sometimes, she would hear him playing it in secluded parts of the TARDIS but she never went looking for him.

She had wanted to; desperately. She wanted to sit and watch him, his focus so intent on the instrument in his hands, his fingers flying, his shoulders tensed. Clara realized, with just the tiniest twinge of embarrassment, that she had managed to become addicted to The Doctor in a completely new way.

Aside from the puppets, which made another appearance, much to the Doctor's annoyance, there was a great variety of musical acts at the open mic. Most of them played instruments that Clara had never heard of. The Doctor happily lectured her about the origins of all the ones he knew about, and probably a few that he'd never actually seen before. Clara didn't mind- the noise of the crowd and the music, forced them to huddle close together so that The Doctor could whisper to her.

Clara clutched a napkin in one hand, under the table, to keep from shivering each time his thick Brogue caressed her ear. If he noticed her reaction, he didn't say anything. Though she noted that he was being unusually touchy with her.

'Cheeky,' Clara thought as The Doctor placed a hand on her knee to get her attention, leaving it there once he'd finished whispering to her about the origins of the Glauvian glass flutes the current performer was playing. As he leaned back in his chair, angled so that their shoulders touched, Clara saw, from the corner of her eye, The Doctor give her one of his lopsided and toothy grins. Clara took a rather large drink from her pint and kept her eyes trained on the stage.

The blue fellow, who was acting as MC, took the mic once again. He thanked all of the performers and asked the audience, "Anyone else out there care to amuse us with their talent, real or imagined?"

"Right here," Clara stood up, signaling to the MC.

The Doctor stared at her, his eyes wide. Grabbing her hand, he tried to pull her back down as he hissed, "Clara, I've heard you sing. I wouldn't advise this."

She reminded herself to give him a verbal bollocking, or at least add a card to his deck, for that remark later, "I meant you, you idiot."

His eyes lit up, "Oh, well, yeah, that's a great idea," and ran off to fetch his guitar and amp from the TARDIS.

結果 (中文) 1:

大多数情况下，它已经回到开放之夜上 Citoxe 的小月亮的克拉拉的主意。他们曾经拜访过，它已经乐趣，除了木偶。"什么是错的木偶?"克莱拉问医生，他怒视着一位公主和一个邪恶的巫婆的大肆的小舞台。"他们不是是可信的"他只是说和靠在他的椅子上，攻击眉毛进行训练的微型场景在他的面前。克拉拉曾只被嘲笑他。她有不可告人的动机，想要再去打开麦克风。自从克拉拉看过医生骑到中间的一个中世纪的竞技场中，碰撞出在他的吉他上的弦杆她被卡住了。她没法让他在她的脑海那吉他上嚎啕大哭的影像。有时，她会听到他玩它的 TARDIS 僻静地方，但她永远不会去找他。她已想;拼命。她想坐着看着他，他专注所以意图仪器在他的手，他的手指飞，他的肩膀绷紧。克莱拉实现，只是微小的一阵尴尬，，她已经设法在一种全新方式对医生上瘾。Aside from the puppets, which made another appearance, much to the Doctor's annoyance, there was a great variety of musical acts at the open mic. Most of them played instruments that Clara had never heard of. The Doctor happily lectured her about the origins of all the ones he knew about, and probably a few that he'd never actually seen before. Clara didn't mind- the noise of the crowd and the music, forced them to huddle close together so that The Doctor could whisper to her.Clara clutched a napkin in one hand, under the table, to keep from shivering each time his thick Brogue caressed her ear. If he noticed her reaction, he didn't say anything. Though she noted that he was being unusually touchy with her.'Cheeky,' Clara thought as The Doctor placed a hand on her knee to get her attention, leaving it there once he'd finished whispering to her about the origins of the Glauvian glass flutes the current performer was playing. As he leaned back in his chair, angled so that their shoulders touched, Clara saw, from the corner of her eye, The Doctor give her one of his lopsided and toothy grins. Clara took a rather large drink from her pint and kept her eyes trained on the stage.The blue fellow, who was acting as MC, took the mic once again. He thanked all of the performers and asked the audience, "Anyone else out there care to amuse us with their talent, real or imagined?""Right here," Clara stood up, signaling to the MC.医生盯着她，他睁大眼睛。他抓住她的手，试图把她拉过来作为他发出嘶嘶声，"克拉拉，我听说你的歌声。我不会建议这"。她提醒自己要给他一顿臭骂，口头，或至少将卡添加到甲板上，为后来的那句话，"我指的是你，你这个白痴。"他的眼睛亮了起来，"哦，嗯，是的那是一个好主意，"和跑去从 TARDIS 取他的吉他和放大器。