Clara had wanted this government internship badly, however when she finds her boss, Malcolm Tucker, not only rude but also very disrespectful towards her it drives her to the brink of giving up. Until she decides to accept the challenge. When Malcolm finally shows her the respect she deserves they eventually find themselves in an emotional mess that could threaten his career. Malcolm/Clara.

Chapter 1

"Yes, I remember that we talked about it. I didn't think you were fucking serious!" Malcolm yelled into his phone. That stupid cunt Eliot Johnson of human resources had done it. He had finally found a way to get back at him for insulting him and his wife at last year's Christmas party.

Yet Eliot Johnson remained infuriatingly calm on the other end. "It's just for three months, Malcolm, and I think you will appreciate an extra helping hand after you've gotten used to the idea."

He laughed into the phone. "A helping hand, you say? A fucking helping hand? And what's this helping hand gonna do, huh? Wank me off? Wipe my arse? Strangle you in your sleep? I don't need an intern, Eliot, I need to do my work and I can't do that with some pimple faced tosser trailing after me all the time. It's bad enough to babysit politicians all day long for seven days a week, I don't need an actual baby."

"Your intern is a she," Eliot replied quietly, "And I assure you, she's the best in her entire year. English and political science major and absolutely competent."

"You know what?" Malcolm snorted, "You should've gone into advertising, Eliot, you can make shit sound like gold. But it doesn't matter how good you make it sound, shit's always gonna stay shit."

The man on the other end of the line sighed heavily. "Please, Malcolm, be nice to her. Miss Oswald is already on her way and I don't want her to get a bad impression. You of all people know how it is-"

"Well, you should've assigned her to someone else, then, shouldn't you?"

It really was the worst case scenario. Not only would he have to deal with an intern, but also a female one. This woman would probably burst into tears the first time he cursed at her. Malcolm didn't need this sort of nuisance in his life. He didn't need an intern at all, not while Nicola was already creating more and more problems with every passing hour. If there was one thing she had taught him, it was that women and their sensitivities and politics didn't mix at all.

"Malcolm?" Eliot asked cautiously, "You will be nice to her, won't you?"

He rolled his eyes even though Eliot would never see it. Of course he wouldn't be nice. He would be at his very worst behaviour just to get rid of her as soon as possible. And then the door bell already rang.

"I suppose that will be her," Malcolm said angrily with a heavy dose of sarcasm, "I better go and open to the door now, so I'm afraid I'll have to hang up. Would be rude to leave her standing there."

He pressed the red button on his phone before awaiting an answer and stormed in the direction of the front door when the bell rang again. Malcolm hated her already for her impatience.

"I'm coming, alright? I'm fucking coming!" he yelled and tore the door open.

Clara cursed herself for wearing heels as she made her way from the bus stop to the address she had been given by Mr Eliot Johnson, dragging her suitcase behind. She was running later than expected thanks to a delayed train but she could still make a decent impression if she just hurried up a little. A government internship was a huge honour, and to be assigned to the infamous Malcolm Tucker was an even bigger one. Clara had heard about him, of course, and she wasn't quite sure whether she should dread the upcoming three months or look forward to them. There was a great deal she could learn from him and if she did well in this internship all the professional doors would be open to her. However, there was the matter of his temper that intimidated her a little.

Clara checked the map on her phone and compared it to the address she had received and finally found herself standing in front of his house. A typical Victorian house. White walls, tidy front yard, narrow and utterly unremarkable. After a sharp intake of breath she had finally gathered up the courage to walk up to the door and ring the bell. Nothing. Clara tapped her foot nervously before she tried again just as she heard shouting from the other side.

"I'm coming, alright? I'm fucking coming!"

A man she knew all too well from the news opened the door, glaring down at her and Clara immediately realized that he was taller than he appeared on TV. And a lot angrier.

"Wait," Malcolm Tucker furrowed his brows, "You're the intern?"

"Yes," Clara put on a smile and extended her hand hopefully, "I'm Clara Oswald. Mr. Johnson assigned me to-"

He looked down at her hand but didn't move to shake it. "Aren't you a bit old to be an intern? What are you? 30?"

Clara cleared her throat, drawing her hand back immediately. "I'm actually 28," she said and mumbled the rest, "But thanks for pointing out I look older."

"Why are you still at university at 28? Are you simple or something?" he asked boldly, not really bothering that his question might be insensitive.

Clara frowned at him. "Personal reasons," she spat back without wanting to. The truth was that she had been staying with friends of the family before starting her classes and the children's mother had died very unexpectedly. She just hadn't had the heart to leave them alone in their grief, so she had postponed her classes.

Obviously Malcolm Tucker was tired of listening to her as he stepped aside and waved his hand impatiently, gesturing for her to step into the house. Clara lifted her suitcase but as soon as he spotted that his will to talk had returned.

"What's that suitcase for?"

"I, erm," Clara spluttered, staring at him. He should know. Why didn't he know? "I just arrived from Blackpool and Mr Johnson said to me it would be better if I stayed with you because yours is a 24-hour-job. He said it would save me the-"

The man groaned loudly, banging the door shut behind them before slapping his hands in front of his face

"That fucking arsepiece! I'm gonna rip his fucking balls off and feed them to his cats!"

Clara took a step back at his outburst and eyed him cautiously. She had known it be would bad, but she hadn't expected Malcolm Tucker to be clueless about her staying at his house – especially after Eliot Johnson had reassured her it would be fine.

"Is everything alright?" she inquired carefully, not really knowing what else to do.

Then finally he stared back at her.

"Yes," he breathed, "Yes, yes, it's fine. It's fucking fine. Listen!"

Before Clara could react his hands were on her shoulders, pushing her in the direction of the kitchen while he talked.

"I have to go to work now and castrate some people working at human resources, but I'll be back tonight. Most likely."

"But what about me?" she asked back, "I'm your intern. Shouldn't you take me with you?"

"Exactly," Malcolm Tucker sneered at her, "You're my intern and there's a basket full of shirts that need ironing. The iron is in the kitchen cupboard. I'm sure you'll do that perfectly, sweetheart."

Clara opened her mouth in protest when Malcolm's phone interrupted her. She didn't even get a word in as he shouted at whoever was on the other end of the line while he reached for his jacket and left the house. By the banging sound, following by complete silence, Clara could tell that she was on her own.