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。除了木偶，作另一次的出现，多向医生的烦恼，还有各种各样的音乐行为打开麦克风。其中绝大多数被演奏乐器，克拉拉从未听说过。医生高兴地训斥了她关于他所知道的所有的和可能他从来没有真正见过的少数的起源。克莱拉没有头脑 — — 噪声的人群和音乐，迫使他们挤靠在一起，医生可以对她耳语。克莱拉抓住餐巾纸放在一只手下表，以防止颤抖每次他口音抚摸着她的耳朵。如果他注意到她的反应，他没说什么。虽然她注意到他在跟她异常敏感。' 厚脸皮，克拉拉认为医生把手放在她的膝盖要得到她的注意，把它留在那里一旦他做完关于起源的当前执行者在玩 Glauvian 玻璃长笛向她细语。他向后靠在椅背上，棱形，他们肩上的感动，克拉拉看见，从她的眼角，医生给她一他片面、 露齿的笑容。克拉拉相当大的喝了从她的品脱，保持她的目光训练过的在舞台上。蓝色的家伙，当时担任 MC，再一次把话筒拿。他感谢所有的演员和观众问，"别人那里照顾逗我们与自己的才华，真实的或想象出来吗?""就在这里，"克拉拉站了起来，向 MC 发出信号。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。