super short but I was partially inspired by Last Night (Last Beer) by Lucy Spraggan. Also inspired by an edit on youtube of these two cuties. Hopefully it isn't that bad...it is my first 'happy' fanfiction of the year.

all of this is under Clara's pov, except the flashbacks, which are in 3rd.


Pounding headache.

Body's pretty numb.

Eyes won't open.

The desire to puke.

The aftertaste of brandy. Brandy? Ugh.

I went overboard, didn't I? Drinking? I probably did that. Where am I? There's definitely another body next to me. One night stand? No, I'm clothed. I inhale deeply, finding the familiar scent hitting my nostrils. The Doctor.

Oh god. Did I just shag the Doctor? Wait, he's never let that happen. He's asexual or something- can't tell with this regeneration, really. I'm clothed too. Gotta remember that. I pop my eyes open and find the Doctor clutching me tightly, as though I was about to disappear. This is definitely a change from before. It's oddly sweet, for an asexual timelord. I giggle, but that wakes him up. I wanted him to stay a little longer. Oh well.

"Clara?" He mumbles, eyes trying to focus on me. I kiss his cheek on impulse and that jerks him awake. He still doesn't let go of me, but it's probably because I haven't yelled him off, not yet anyway.

"Good morning to you too..." I grin lazily. I should be yelling at him, or perhaps telling him to get off. But it's comfortable. I like his embrace, despite the rareness of it all. The headache comes back and I groan. He gets up, the cold chill of the TARDIS -because where else would we be?- hits me, hard. He takes some medication from the table and some water. I gratefully take it, downing it all. Whatever weird medication he gave me worked wonders, as the pain dissipated. Still confused though. I peer up at him. He's staring at me, confused, as though I should be addressing something but I'm not. "Yes, Doctor?"

"How much of last night do you remember?" He asks immediately.

"Nothing. Why, did something happen?" He warily looks away. "Doctor!"

"Things happened! Okay? Things happened!" We stare at each other for a bit, then he continues, "You were drunk, twenty-first century Earth. You called me. I picked you up."

"Okay, stop. Stop leaving out details and actually tell me what happened last night." He sighed heavily, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Last night...last night...well..."

Clara giggled as the smoking hot young man did a body shot on her. She wasn't the type to accept these things, it's not her style. She was a grown woman, on the sweet age of twenty seven, but since when has she ever let loose? Never. That was why Clara Oswald was on the counter, watching him lick the salt off her stomach. She felt tipsy. Why was she getting drunk again? What was the purpose?

Oh right.

She was getting too close to falling in love with an impossible man. She grinned lazily towards the young man, jumping off of the counter once she finished. The young man with the floppy hair, he kinda looks like the Doctor's last regeneration, she thought. The Doctor. That's why she was here. It was strange, to fall in love yet again, with the same exact person. He was just...perfect. Like he was made for a bossy control freak like her. She stumbled towards her purse, where all her stuff was. It was a good idea to go casual- simple blouse and dark jeans. She pulled her shirt down and grabbed her phone. Her eyes were having a hard time concentrating, but she managed to unlock it and call her impossible man.

After one ring, he answered. There really was only one person with his number, after all.

"Clara? Isn't it..." he paused, "Saturday? The same week I dropped you off? Is something wrong?" His voice dripped of concern. She felt a flutter in her chest. He worried about her.

"Yeaaaaaaah. A lot of things. I need you, Doctor..." She slurred, grabbing her purse and going back to the counter. She asked for an array of drinks while on the phone. The bartender hardly questioned it.

"Oh dear. You're drunk, aren't you, Clara? Humans and their drinks...Where are you? On second thought, I'll pick you up. Stop drinking." She could hear the TARDIS in the background.

"Buuuuuuut Doctooooor, there's some vodka here. Ooh, shots." She grinned as she downed more alcohol. This was so going to bite her in the ass-

"Wait, I actually drank vodka? I never drink that hard." I say, my brows furrowing. Not unless I really want to drink to forget, I am a lightweight after all.

"You are quite the lightweight." He murmurs, looking at me in a way I can't quite place.

"Okay, anyway, you said I was talking about shots?" He chuckles to himself, his eyes glimmering. I'm so going to regret asking.

"Shots. A lot of shots."

The Doctor came just as Clara was finishing her twenty-seventh shot. By then, she already had enough alcohol to definitely make her lose it. She was about to finish her twenty-eighth, when the Doctor grabbed it from her and tossed it out. The bartender yelled in protest. "Hey man, get her the hell out of here. Your daughter is a fucking nutcase."

"Hey! He's not my dad. He's the guy I looooooooveeee...he's greaaaat..." She paused, "My impossible man."

Oh boy. Despite the embarrassment, I burst out laughing at his rubbish impression of me. He himself cracks a smile. This was not how I wanted him to find out about my feelings. I had thought of some beautiful planet or something- not whatever the hell that was.

"Did I actually?"

"Oh yes."

"And you reveled in it, didn't you?" A curt nod. I sigh back in response to his inflating ego. "Continue on then."

"So you proclaimed your undying love for me afterwards..."

"Hey, whatever suits your tastes." The bartender said, shrugging. "Just pay her tab and get her out of here."

"Will do." He handed a UNIT issued credit card towards the man. He looked at it oddly, but didn't question it. He did the transaction and handed the card back. Clara was holding onto the Doctor as though he was her lifeline. He grasped onto her tightly, but as her grip slipped, he picked her up, bridal style. She hooked her arms around his neck, smiling. She was slurring more words.

"Doctor, I think I love youuuuuu, youuuu."

"You think?" He asked, entertaining her. Might as well.

"Yeah. I tried not to, you know? It's hard." Clara muttered, peering into his eyes. "I really love you and I want to tell you without being drunk but...Christ, Doctor, it's hard."

"Why?" At this point, he was just attempting to leech information.

"You... I dunno. You treat me like I have a disease. We don't really...do things anymore. I miss our hugs. Hand holding. Everything."

"You loved bow tie-," he tried to interject.

"Don't. Just don't, Doctor. The ghost of the past does not need to ruin this. Right now, I'm talking about youuuu. This you." She said firmly, shutting him up with a quick and sloppy kiss, catching the Doctor off guard as he stumbled into the TARDIS. He managed to get himself upright again. "I love you. I really do. But do you love me?"

It was a beat before he answered.

"Yes."

"I..." I think it's coming back to me now. "I...I kissed you. Asked you that. Then I pulled you into the bed, forced you to stay. Oh my stars, I did that." My cheeks were definitely heating up.

"Yes." He says, taking my hands and kissing both. "Now the real question is, if you still feel the same sober."

I didn't even hesitate as I confirmed it, "Yes. God, yes." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Seriously?" I glare at him. "Alright, Alright, I'm just checking." I punch him in the arm and he cries out, "What was that for?"

"For doubting me."

"I promise, Clara Oswald, I'll never doubt you." I might as well. Looking at him in the light, he looked quite unbound and relaxed. I lean in, but he beats me to it, pushing me down onto the bed as our lips touch. I could taste longing and desire. Hints of morning breath, but that's normal. I let his hands roam, but I stop him before he can pull a piece of clothing. He groans in protest. I smirk up at him. He definitely looks unbound and it most definitely suited him. He looked sexy. Wow, never thought I'd think that without feeling like it was wrong. He stares at me, waiting for my next move.

"Doctor, I need a shower first. Hangover is gone, but I still feel filth." It takes him a moment to realize what I was going for. He always was daft. He wiggles his thick eyebrows, smirking as he gets off me and extends his hand.

"I can provide that." He says as I take his warm hand.

We end up being in the shower for quite sometime. Strange, I'm supposed to feel like all my sores and pains go away during a hot shower, but really, I don't think I can walk now.