He is sitting in front of the fireplace. He isn't entirely sure how long the TARDIS has had a room with a fireplace, but he has kinda come to the point where he stops questioning it. He likes the fireplace room; it is small and cosy with oaken walls and an old, dilapidated sofa right in front of the fire, which is the only light source in the room. He is sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the sofa and staring into the flames. The flames started out wild and roaring, but he has been sitting there for so long that they have been replaced by glowing embers and only the odd flame making a dash for the chimney. His coat is lying carelessly thrown on the floor somewhere behind the sofa, and the sleeves of his shirt are folded up to his elbows. His face is graced by a soft smile, the kind of smile which starts in the eyes and only slowly reaches the lips.

The door to the fireplace room opens and closes softly, and light footsteps on the carpet approaches the Doctor. He doesn't turn around though; he knows those footsteps, and sure enough, moments later Clara is lowering herself down to sit next to him in front of the glowing embers. She is wearing a bathrobe, and her hair is wet. He distinctly remembers being blamed for the abundance of larval sediments they were both covered in when returning to the TARDIS a few hours ago, so he pretends not to notice that she has obviously just come from a shower.

She doesn't say anything though, just sits with him as they both look into the fires. Her arm is touching his and her leg is touching his and she is leaning slightly into him. He doesn't comment but his smile widens, just a little, as his heart rate increases ever so slightly. Eventually he turns his head to look down at her, and his expression grows incredibly soft. Perhaps he had intended to turn back to the flames before she'd notice, but he is either unable or unwilling to do so. Eventually she turns around to meet his gaze, and his expression makes her breath hitch. Just a little bit, and she hopes he didn't notice. He did, but his expression remains unchanged.

It takes a while before either of them sees the need to speak, but eventually it is Clara who breaks the silence. "Good day today, Doctor". "How so?". Their voices are barely above murmuring, but more volume isn't necessary with their proximity and the absolute silence in the room around them. "Saving the empire, making it back to the TARDIS alive, whatever you were doing with that porcelain doll… All in all, not bad". His smile widens slightly. "Good. Apologies for the larvae, by the way. Couldn't be avoided, I'm sure you understand". He clears his throat, straightens his bow tie and looks back to the embers in front of them. Clara's eyes, however, linger on his face and shine with mirth at his feeble excuse. He eventually looks back at her though the corner of his eye, one side of his mouth pulling upwards in a feeble, apologetic smile. Her eyes flicker to his lips for a moment before returning to his eyes. The Doctor grins. Another time this might have made her quite embarrassed, but they are both aware that they are beyond that stage now. Or at least they will be, in a couple of minute's time.

"Thank you, Clara", he murmurs eventually. Her eyebrows shoot up. "Thank me? What for?". "Oh, you know", he says, as he slips into the soft expression from before, "just generally". They look at each other for a few moments until, at the same time, they both lean in. Softly, as two moths colliding under a full moon, their lips meet and their eyes flicker shut. Goosebumps are spreading down Clara's back, and butterflies are cascading down into the Doctor's stomach. The kiss is sweet and gentle, and worlds could be colliding right outside their doors without either of them noticing. One of his hands comes up to cradle her face, and her breathing stops entirely as she loses herself in their kiss. He feels like there is an electric pulse wherever their bodies meet: at their hips, at their sides, in his hand and on their lips. It leaves him breathless. The kiss eventually comes to an end, and their foreheads meet as they break apart and take shaky breaths. Clara is the first to open her eyes, and a big grin slowly erupts on her face as she watches the Doctor's breath level out and his eyes eventually flutter open to meet her gaze. She laughs as she throws herself into his arms and hugs him for all she is worth.