Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, the franchise belongs to the BBC.

A LITTLE TOO LATE : 1/4

Out of all the stupid things that she had ever done in her life (stepping into the TARDIS not included), this one had to take the cake. Sure, it had seemed like a good idea at the time: go and help out in the kitchen, be friendly with some of the soldiers…

That had literally gone flying out the window when she found herself locked in the mess-hall with two sailors who eyed her like a piece of meat.

Presently, she was fending them off as well as she could, the bleeding scratch-marks on one of the sailors faces attesting to that face, but she knew that she couldn't last for very much longer against them. Her only hope of getting out of the situation was to somehow get to the doors of the mess hall or even the kitchen and trying to unlock it before the sailors got to her.

"We won't hurt you too bad," the sailor that she hadn't attacked yet, sneered, his dark eyes leering over her body openly.

"Says you," the other replied, glaring at her menacingly as he circled around the long table that was in between him and Clara, "I need to pay you back for this," he said, pointing angrily to the bloody scratches on his face.

Clara ignored them, her eyes making sure to track both of the soldiers movements lest any of them make any sudden moves. She licked her lips, feeling her heart thundering in her chest and her sweat turning icy on her skin as she realised the seriousness of her situation.

The scratched sailor suddenly made a move, leaping over the table and lunging down for her while his friend bolted around the side. Reacting on instinct, Clara duct down and threw herself forwards, sliding underneath the table and rolling out to the other side. Without thinking, she jumped to her feet and bolted for the door.

Slamming into the metal, Clara grabbed hold of the wheel and turned it, knowing that if it hadn't of been for the adrenaline then she never would have been able to spin and therefore unlock the door. Hearing the men cursing her from behind, she yanked on the door and sprinted around, gasping in shock when she ran into another sailor who had been standing on the other side. She looked up at him and felt her heart sinking into her stomach, her eyes widening with the fear that she refused to show earlier.

"Looks like I'm late to the party," the blonde in front of her grinned, and it sent shivers down her spine.

"Actually, Sven, you're just in time."

A pair of hands grabbed her upper arms roughly and Clara could only scream.

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