Clara waved goodbye to the blue box vanishing in the Maitlands back garden, before twirling around happily and skipping into the house, checking her appearance in the mirror before placing her bag on the table and checking the fridge. Ever since Trenzalore, the Doctor had been trying to convince her to move into the TARDIS, but Clara had stubbornly insisted that she was going to keep staying at the Maitlands as their nanny. Besides, she didn't want the Doctor to know about the nightmares that she had been plagued with since Trenzalore.
"Oh! Clara, you're back!" Artie said excitedly, appearing in the kitchen. "How was the Doctor? Did you fight any more Cybermen?"
"No, Artie, we didn't," Clara laughed. "Actually, the Doctor and I stayed on Earth today and in the same time. He took me to Paris and we had tea on top of the Eiffel Tower."
To avoid any more questioning from Artie, or Angie, who had appeared and started going on about romantic dinners between her and the Doctor, Clara turned in for the night, putting on her pyjamas and slipping into bed. She could hear George Maitland chiding his children for staying up while Clara had been out, as when she checked the clock it was nine o'clock. Thinking of next Wednesday, Clara slowly drifted off to sleep.
The Doctor was settled down on the stairs by the console, reading a very interesting book on a caterpillar that wouldn't stop eating food because it was so hungry. He was just turning the page when the phone started ringing. Frowning, setting the book down, the Doctor stood up and picked up the phone, leaning against the console.
"Yes, hello?" He answered the phone.
"Doctor! It's Angie Maitland! You've got to come, quickly! It's Clara, she's having some sort of fit and we don't know what to do!"
The Doctor hung up. He danced around the console, his hearts pumping, his mind only centered on one thing. Clara was hurt. Clara needed help. Not even thinking about Angie and Artie's father, the Doctor landed the TARDIS straight in Clara's bedroom, charging into the bedroom, ignoring George Maitland's stammering of fear and immediately checking Clara's pulse and examining her for injuries. She was unconscious, having small fits and moaning, occasionally screaming, thrashing wildly. He swept her up bridal style and carried her into the TARDIS, with Angie and Artie following behind closely, looking really scared. The Doctor was too frightened to admit, but swallowing down his worry, he rushed her down into the infirmary.
"She's trapped in a memory," the Doctor realised, as he heard her muttering in Gallifreyan. "One of my memories. The Time War. I knew I should've got the TARDIS to get rid of those ones, but Clara insisted on keeping them."
"Will she be okay?" Angie asked worriedly, eyes wide.
Just at that moment Clara began screaming again, thrashing about and almost falling off the bed if the Doctor hasn't been holding her down. But these screams had meaning; they held anguish and torment and pain. Artie started to cry and Angie looked like she was scarred for life. Mr Maitland, who had appeared in the infirmary doorway, held his breath and shook in horror. The Doctor couldn't take it any longer.
He took Clara's shoulder and shouted, "Clara, wake up!" loudly in Gallifreyan, before shaking her quite violently.
Clara jolted awake, tears spilling down her cheeks as she trembled, and seeing the Doctor next to her, sobbed and hugged him. The Doctor lifted her up onto his lap and embraced her carefully, stroking her hair and muttering reassurances in his own language, knowing she could understand him.
"It was so dark," she whispered. "It was so cold and blood, blood everywhere... people dying and the Daleks... the Daleks were merciless. Doctor, your family... your whole family burned."
He turned to Angie and Artie and whispered, in English, "Wait for me in the console room, I'll bring her back in a moment."
The Maitlands nodded and trundled off, presumably where the Doctor had told them to go. The Time Lord sat, the girl in his lap, for several minutes until she calmed down, before trying to get up. However, Clara wouldn't let him go, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his waist. The Doctor stiffened. She obviously had no idea what she was doing, but it was a bit uncomfortable and awkward. He knew, however, he had to get a sedative, so placed one arm around her back to hold her to him before standing up, carrying her, and rummaging around in a medical drawer before pulling out a vial of pale pink liquid and pocketing it.
"Theta," Clara murmured. "I'm scared."
The Doctor's hearts leapt as she used his old Academy nickname, and he set her back down onto the bed, kissing her gently on the forehead before passing her the vial. "I know," he mumbled. "Here, this is a sedative. You won't have any more nightmares, I promise."
Clara drank the whole thing in one gulp before beginning to shake again and cry. The Doctor, his hearts aching, swept her arm bridal style and allowed her to settled into his arms, her head on his chest, before he carefully walked back to the console room. When he got there Angie and Artie were sitting on the stairs waiting for them, and had obviously been explaining things to their father, who was wide eyed with awe.
"She's okay now," the Doctor informed them, relieved himself. "Let's get her back to bed. I've given her a sedative to get her to sleep peacefully."
"She's never had nightmares that bad before," Angie whispered. "She has been having them every night though."
The Doctor swallowed. "She never told me."
"She didn't want you to see her as weak," Angie replied simply.
The Time Lord exited his ship, with the Maitlands behind him, and gently placed Clara back into her bed, pulling the blankets over her and holding her hand as she stared back up at him, waiting for sleep to take her. As he made to leave, Clara pulled him back down.
"No," she whispered. "I need you stay. You make me feel safe."
The Doctor gulped and sank back down onto the bed next to her, peeling off his coat and waistcoat, leaving himself in his shirt and trousers. He looked up at the Maitlands for permission; after all, it was their house. George looked hesitant, but Artie and Angie were nodding. They dragged their father out and the Doctor lifted the cover up, slipping down beside her.
He thought his Impossible Girl would settle for him pressing his side up against her, but it obviously wasn't enough, as Clara climbed onto him, half in his lap and on his chest. Actually, come to think of it, she was simply on top of him, her head buried in his neck and arms held to her chest as the Time Lord hesitantly wrapped his own arms around her waist. She sighed and finally seemed to drift off, so the Doctor decided it wouldn't do any harm to have a quick nap himself...
The next morning, Clara awoke before the Time Lord and found herself quite warm and comfortable. She snuggled into her pillow then froze as she realised - it wasn't a pillow. It was the Doctor. And she was literally on top of him and straddling his waist with her legs, with her head on his chest. She was shocked, so lay there frozen for a moment, listening to his double hearts beating away calmly in his chest. She slid off him an laid next to him for a while. The Doctor looked strange when he slept. She wondered if he was a fitful sleeper.
"Good morning," Clara said, as the Time Lord next to her stirred quietly, blinking at her with large wise eyes.
"How are you?" The Doctor asked concernedly.
"Fine," she answered. "Better than fine, actually. I feel amazing."
"Well, that's a relief," the Doctor sighed. "I was so worried about you. We should have removed those memories as soon as we left Trenzalore and I -"
"Don't you dare say that you told me so," Clara warned him, slipping out of bed and then realising what she was wearing. "Doctor..." She said slowly. "You let me sleep on top of you, in this?" She was wearing a thin white sleeveless lacy nightdress that ended a few inches above her knees.
"You needed comfort," he replied simply.
"So dear little Clara has a nightmare and you take that as an invitation to get into her bed, while she happens to be in a very revealing nightdress," Clara teased him mercilessly, tapping him on the knee. "Ooh, down boy!"
"You - you know that's not - that's not what happened at all - I don't -" he spluttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position against the headboard. He pointed at her before muttering, "Oh, shut up."
"And you parked the TARDIS in my room?" Clara asked, confused, pulling on her dressing gown and patting the blue box on the side, causing her to thrum and the bulb on top to brighten. "Doctor, what exactly happened last night?"
"Don't you remember?" The Time Lord questioned, shrugging on his waistcoat and jacket and straightening the cuffs. "You had a particularly bad nightmare, about the Time War. You were screaming, so Angie called me to ask for help. I arrived, helped, and then you wouldn't let me leave and asked me to stay with you. So I did."
"What about George?" Clara asked worriedly. "Don't tell me..."
"Angie and Artie told him everything," the Doctor admitted. "There wasn't much else we could do once he saw the TARDIS and followed us inside."
Clara went into her bathroom to get dressed, while the Doctor moved the TARDIS into the back garden. When Clara went downstairs, she found the two kids already eating toast in the kitchen, with the Doctor chatting to them happily about a planet called Toast, that apparently didn't even have flour or wheat, so they couldn't make bread or toast. George was standing by the counter gazing warily at the Time Lord.
"Morning all," Clara said, sitting down next to the Doctor and taking some of his toast and taking a bite out of it.
"Hey!" The Doctor complained.
Clara shrugged, but didn't give it back, instead giving a cheeky wink. The Doctor pouted at her, before sneaking some of Artie's toast onto his plate and smothering it with marmalade before the boy could even protest.
"Are you feeling better now, Clara?" Artie asked, munching on his toast.
"Much, thanks, Artie," Clara replied, smiling. "The Doctor helped me."
"Is that why you were kissing his neck last night?" Artie asked innocently.
Clara spat out her tea and the Doctor blushed bright crimson, glancing down at his hands and avoiding eye contact. Angie sniggered and looked away, while even Mr Maitland looked amused.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Artie," Clara answered slowly.
"Oh, because when Angie and I went to check on you last night after you both fell asleep you were kind of nuzzling into his neck and kissing him, and he had his arms around you," Artie answered, blinking at her, the very picture of pure and innocent.
"Yes, Artie, that was a little too much information," the Doctor said quickly and quietly, taking a large bite of toast, his cheeks bright red.
"Oh, okay," the boy replied. "Are you going to take her to a planet today?"
"If she wants too, sure," the Doctor replied happily, obviously relieved at the subject change.
Clara nodded, picking up the jam pot and a knife to cover another slice of toast with it. "Yeah, I'm up for it," she answered casually, ignoring the grimace that Mr Maitland sent her way. "But not a planet. I've always wanted to go to Australia."
"Australia?" The Doctor asked, pretending to look disgusted. "I offer you the whole of space and time, and you choose a boring human country, Australia? Clara, you wound me."
"If its so boring then how about Australia in the 32nd Century then?" Clara suggested.
The Doctor shot her a look. "You clearly have some alarming gaps in your education, Clara," he told her. "Australia's underwater in the 32nd Century. So is the UK, actually..."
"Really?" Clara asked, surprised. "But... in one of my other lives, I lived in Australia in the 32nd Century. It wasn't underwater."
The Doctor froze, toast in mid-air before setting it down. "Yes, well, I might of had a bit of trouble with the extrapolator shielding... and the swimming pool filters."
"Are you telling me that 32nd Century Australia was drowned by the TARDIS swimming pool?" Clara asked, raising an eyebrow.
The Doctor began protesting that it had been an accident and all Clara could do was start laughing. Artie and Angie exchanged amused looks and Mr Maitland snorted.
"Can we come too please?" Artie asked excitedly.
Clara bit her lip. "Hmm, depends on where we go," she said. "Doctor?"
"I'm fine with them coming," the Time Lord beamed.
"Then it's settled!" Clara announced, standing and placing her plate in the dishwasher. "Come on you two, I'll help your get a day bag together. You'll need to get changed into something you're able to run in through."
"What?" George snapped, looking alarmed.
"Oh, yes," Clara said, remembering he was new to all this stuff. "There's an awful lot of running involved. That's the thrill of it! The Doctor'll tell you about it."
She vanished up the stairs, Artie and Angie disappearing after her, and the Doctor cleared up quickly after them, feeling uncomfortable, aware that Mr Maitland was staring at him the entire time.
"How long has Clara been travelling with you?" George asked quietly. "How long has she lied to me for?"
The Doctor had the decency to look slightly guilty. "Six months. But it was her choice not to tell you. She didn't want you to freak out about the time travel."
"Angie told me that you're an alien," Mr Maitland said stiffly.
"Yes, that a problem?"
"Maybe. What intention do you have for Clara?"
The Doctor stayed silent for a few moments, not knowing exactly how to reply. "I'm not sure what you mean," he confessed. "It's all up and downy stuff in a big blue box, time and space and running. And Clara does it with me. But I'm not exactly sure what your asking."
"Are you in love with Clara?" Mr Maitland asked simply.
The Doctor stared. He didn't exactly know how to reply. "I don't know," he admitted, his shoulders slumping and hanging his head. "Even if I knew, it wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm an a thousand year old Time Lord who regenerates and she's a twenty-four year old human who will eventually die of old age," the Doctor replied, sighing. "And I wouldn't know what to do if I lost her."
"So you do love her."
"What do you want me to say?" The Doctor asked bitterly. "That my hearts speed up whenever she enters the room? That I feel like I'll explode with happiness whenever she says my name? That when she holds my hand, I feel like the luckiest man in the universe? That last night was one of the best moments of my life?" He shook his head. "If that's what you want me to say, then yes. I'd gladly announce to the world that I am in love with Clara Oswald."
"Well that's a relief," came Clara's voice, as she appeared in the doorway, grinning, with the two kids behind her looking like Christmas had come early. "Because I love you too, Chin Boy. Come on, Artie, Angie, I'll show you the squash courts in the TARDIS."
"There's are squash courts!?"
"Awesome!"
The Doctor gaped in astonishment as Clara and the kids exited by the back door and they went into the TARDIS. He pointed at them and turned back to George.
"What the hell just happened?" He asked stupidly.
"I believe, Doctor, that was Clara's way of telling you that you've been an idiot to coop up your feelings," George responded. "Because she feels the same way that you do. Have fun on that planet." He waved once before vanishing out the front door to go to work.
The Doctor sat, alone in the kitchen. He finally stood up and entered the TARDIS, to see Clara leaning against the console, smirking at him, with the kids nowhere in sight. They were probably in the swimming pool. Clara took his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist, and he was quick to do the same to her, drawing her towards him until their breath mingled.
"Come here, Chin Boy," Clara teased. "I won't bite."
The Doctor grinned, "And that's exactly what I'm afraid of."