Even though I rated this story as M, its not explicit, I just felt it warrented more than a T rating to be safe. Enjoy the Clara/ 12 angst :)
This was one of the worst days that Clara could remember, which considering some of the days that she had had that was saying something, Everything, every single thing she had tried to do today had ended terribly. Work was a nightmare; the kids hadn't listened to a single thing she'd said all day. The headmaster had called her into his office for a special "meeting" which had consisted of a lot of negative comments on every aspect of her teaching ability with the promise of suspension if she didn't improve. The Doctor had tried to pick her up this morning before work and when she had not accepted, he had gotten angry; really, properly angry. Normally he took her rejections in stride but this time he had stormed off without a word, fixing her a look that could kill. She'd been so distracted by her anger at him that her date with Danny had gone terribly. Three times he had asked her if she was listening to what he was saying; after the third time of saying that she hadn't quite caught what he was saying, he hastily paid the tab and left.
Now, as Clara burst into her flat, all she could think about was getting a drink and her thoughts off of the Doctor. After all, she seethed, working her anger up again, this was all his fault. He kept bursting into her life without a single moment's notice and her job and relationship with Danny were suffering because of it. Then, when she tried to focus on something other than him, he got angry. Who did he think he was?
Clara was detailing several nasty names of who exactly the Doctor was in her head when she opened her bedroom door, intent on falling into bed. Only she couldn't because said time lord was lying in her bed.
Okay…..that's it….
"What the hell are you doing?" Clara asked, tossing her handbag down on the ground and standing by the bed, hands on hips. The TARDIS was parked in the corner of the room, taking up a good portion of available space with the Doctor taking up most of what was left. He was not only lying on her bed; sprawled out was the more proper word for it. She was instantly aware that something was not right; in addition to being spread across her bed in a very undignified way, his clothes were not right. They were not right in the respect that from his high topped shoes to his purple bowtie they were precisely the clothes of his former version. After he taken them off shortly following his regeneration, he had never put them back on. The fact that he was now wearing them meant something, it had to.
"Well, I should think that would be very obvious, even to a human like you" The Doctor snapped in a drawling voice.
Drunk…very drunk by the sound of his voice and his questionable clothing choice. That was another first; she'd never seen him even touch a drink much less be drunk. For a moment she was concerned as to why he was in this state; then she remembered how angry she was at him, especially since he had just dumped himself into her room without her consent. Plus, he'd just insulted her.
"It's very obvious that you're drunk and taking up my whole bed" Clara snapped back. "What isn't obvious is why you are"
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Like I said, should be obvious" he drawled.
Well, it was very not obvious and Clara was curious but she could tell that she was going to get nowhere with him so completely wasted and obnoxious. "You know what, I don't care" Clara said in a huff. "I really don't care. You're drunk, your TARDIS is taking up my room and I really just want you to leave so I can go to sleep"
The Doctor laughed in an infuriating way. "What? Am I inconveniencing you now?" he asked in amusement. Clara felt her anger rise.
"Now? Of course you're inconveniencing me now" Clara said, her voice rising despite her attempts to stop it. "You're always inconveniencing me. You just show up, drop out of the sky in your blue box, not thinking about what you're interrupting when you come barreling in here."
"Interrupting?" The Doctor asked, sitting up, swaying slightly, his eyes widening. "What could I possibly be interrupting?"
Clara took a deep breath as she fought to compose herself; he honestly didn't know. That was the problem with him. He just assumed she would drop everything in her life at a moment's notice when he showed up. And he thought she was the one with an ego problem… "You think you're more important than anything else!" Clara burst out angrily. "Did it never occur to you I have other things to do, other people I'd like to see?"
Clara's head was a buzz now; she wanted a fight, she welcomed one. She'd bloody had enough of his off and on nonsense; would it kill him to call ahead? She was so intent on getting a fight she was not prepared for the reaction she did get.
"No…..it didn't" The Doctor said, his voice hollow and completely void of anger or malice. When he looked up at her, she was alarmed to see the glassiness of his eyes.
"What?" Clara asked, surprise making her tone sound less angry and more compassionate.
The Doctor looked down at his lap and she noticing him fiddling with the gold chain on his waistcoat; she was growing more concerned by the second for why he was wearing those clothes. "I said, it never occurred to me that there were other people you wanted to see" he said sadly, "Because for me…..there's just you"
He said it so sadly, so truthfully that Clara was desperate for him to say something else. Something…..anything…..had to be better than the sorrowful look in his eyes and the loss in his voice. She wanted a fight, not this. "W-what?" Clara asked, her voice wobbling slightly.
"Are you a total idiot?" The Doctor asked, his voice verging on anger but fuller of self-pity. "I'm sitting here, in your room waiting for you…..what makes you think I have anything better to do? I don't…..in case you were wondering. I just wait for you!"
The Doctor was angry and drunk, not a good combination. She wanted to blame his emotions on the alcohol but some part of her knew that wasn't the truth. "Doctor….." she started, her voice soft, trying to console him. She sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to reach out toward him but he flinched away.
"Don't! Just don't!" The Doctor exclaimed in fury. "Don't act like you care! It's all great for you, leaving me and going off to do God knows what…but what about me? All I've ever had was you and now you bloody left me!"
Clara was torn between pity and anger. "I didn't leave you…..what are you talking about?" she asked. Sure, the thought had crossed her mind in the beginning when he had first regenerated. But she hadn't really been considering leaving him. How could she? She didn't even try because she knew there was no way she'd ever be able to leave him. As much as he angered her sometimes, he was like a permeant part of her now, one she could never leave.
"What? You think just because you still travel with me that you haven't left me?" The Doctor asked cynically. "You might be here in physical form, Clara... but your heart is not here. Not since I changed"
The Doctor seemed so sad as he looked at her, his blood shot eyes boring into her own. Maybe she wasn't there like she'd once been but she felt like she had every right to be. The Doctor had changed his entire appearance, most of his personality. She knew he was the same man but that was a lot easier to accept in theory than in practice. She knew it was him but it didn't feel like him. Clara knew there was truth to the Doctor's words and it made her defensive. "Yeah…well, it's not exactly easy, is it?" she asked, fixing him with a hard stare. "You did change and it's hard to take in. I don't even know who you are anymore."
The Doctor swallowed visibly. "I'm the Doctor" he said, his voice thick with barely controlled emotion. "You know exactly who I am" Clara could tell by the doubt in his voice that even he didn't believe it.
"I don't" Clara argued. She gestured toward him. "The Doctor, the one I knew, would never get drunk and come here to start an argument with me. And what the hell is up with these clothes? What are you thinking?" She knew she was being harsh but she wanted him to stop talking in riddles and start making sense. And she didn't want all of this to somehow be misconstrued as her fault.
The Doctor looked at her with glassy eyes before looking away. His gaze was firmly planted on the TARDIS when he spoke. "I wanted to be him" he said, his voice disconnected and so small Clara could barely hear him.
"Who?" she asked, tilting her head so she could see more of his face though it was still turned from her. She was beginning to think he was starting to lose coherent thought; he wasn't making sense. Who did he want to be? He was dressed in his own clothes.
"Him…the version of me you cared for" The Doctor said, his voice cracking slightly. He shook his head as if to get rid of it. But it was too late; Clara had seen through the weak defense; she could see how much it bothered him. He thought that she didn't care about him now that he had changed and that couldn't be further from the truth. Did that mean that she didn't long for the version of him that was young and silly and full of life; of course it didn't. She wanted him back but that didn't mean she still didn't care. But after how much she did care, how could she allow herself to be open to that pain? The pain of watching the man you loved die and get replaced?
"Doctor….you've got it all wrong" Clara argued, hoping to diffuse the situation. "I do care about you…..why would you think I didn't?"
The Doctor was already shaking his head vigorously even though it was making him sway slightly. "No…..you don't care about me the same way as you did about him." He argued. He still wouldn't look at her.
Clara silently cursed alcohol and all its damning effects on bringing up emotional issues that were best left buried. "What are you talking about?" Clara asked lamely. She couldn't think of a good response to his comment because she felt there was too much truth to what he was saying.
"Oh you know what I mean!" The Doctor said harshly before softening, his eyes downcast. "You loved him…you don't love me"
"How…..how can you say that?" Clara asked, taken aback by the abruptness and harshness of what he was saying.
The Doctor finally moved his gaze from the TARDIS and fixed it on her, his eyes ablaze with so much unspoken emotion. "Because it's true" he said, his voice full of sorrow. "It's true…..I didn't want it to be true. I wanted to believe that you could still love me even after I changed. I deluded myself to believe it. But it's not true…..I can see that now." The Doctor put his face in hands, defeated. "I used to be enough but now I'm not. And I thought I could be okay with that…I wanted to let you be happy and chose someone else. But then I was alone and there was all that alcohol and it seemed so…." He looked up at her with watery eyes. "It seemed so hard…too hard. I wanted so much…so much that never happened and now it never will"
Despite herself, Clara felt a lump forming in her throat at his words. She felt the same way; she had wanted so much more time with the other version of him. She'd even begged him to not change; while she knew it wasn't something that he could stop, she had known, deep down, it would change who they were. "I wanted that too" she said tearfully, looking him in the eyes even though it was painful. "Things were perfect the way that they were…I didn't want you to change. That doesn't mean I don't love you now…because I do. It's just …..different" she admitted. "You're different. I know you're the same man but you look different, act different…you're not the same and I can't let go of the things I wanted from the other you. Even time I look at you I'm reminded you're different"
Clara expected the Doctor's reaction to be angry; she wouldn't have blamed him if it had been. She had, in a way, admitted that she didn't care for him in the same way that she had when he had been different. She expected yelling, fighting, tears even…she didn't expect what he actually did do.
With gentleness that she wouldn't have expected of this version of him, the Doctor reached up brushed her hair out of her face before cupping her cheek. At first, Clara wanted to pull away but as the Doctor ran his thumb along his her cheek, she found herself leaning into the touch, suppressing a sigh. She didn't want to admit it, she missed the causal way they exchanged touch before; now he didn't even want her to hug him. She found she couldn't pull away.
"Pretend, Clara….."
Clara was so caught in the motions of his hand along her cheek that she didn't understand his meaning. "What?" she asked, opening her eyes to find his face much closer to hers than when she had closed them. He didn't look as sad; resigned was more like it.
"You said that I'm different" The Doctor explained, every word slow and measured. "You said that you wished you had more time with him…..so…..pretend I'm him." He leaned closer so that his forehead touched hers and Clara felt a burst of sensation go through her that she didn't understand. This wasn't right and it wasn't him…he had to be doing this and saying all of this because he was drunk.
"Why…..why would I do that?" Clara asked, her voice shaking slightly as her heart seemed to quicken in pace. She was sure that he couldn't possibly mean what she thought he meant. Experimentally, she placed her hands on his chest, feeling the beat of his two hearts; she was surprised when he didn't pull back.
"You said you wanted more time with him…..do what you would do if you had more time with him" the Doctor said, his voice even with a slight shake. His eyes were closed and Clara wished he would open them so she could gauge his reaction.
"Oh yeah…..what's that?" Clara asked, her shaky voice betraying the nerves that she felt swirling around in her stomach as several images came to mind. She knew what she would do if she had one more night with him; she had dreamed it too many times to count. The very thought of it now, so close to the man who had become so unattainable, made her cheeks flush. She was not about to make the first move. She shook her head; she wasn't going to make any move. This was wrong.
"We both know" The Doctor asked, finally opening his eyes and looking into hers piercingly. "I'd do the same thing as you."
Clara laughed nervously, feeling tension crawling up her back. "I find that very hard to believe" she said truthfully. The secret and untellable images that she had harbored so long for the Doctor could not possibly be what he was suggesting now. Not this man, the one who would barely touch her.
The Doctor laughed, pulling back from her just enough that she could see something dark in his eyes as he gave her a teasing smile. "You shouldn't" He said low, reaching a hand up and tracing his finger down Clara's arm. The touch made goose bumps form along her skin unbidden. "My last body was so innocent, so clueless to such things…but I know. I know what you thought of me then"
The Doctor's voice suddenly sounded so deep and tempting; Clara felt herself laughing nervously again. "Well, aren't you full of answers" she teased, hoping that a joke would break the tension. She needed an out and she couldn't see one right now.
She didn't get it though; at her words the Doctor smiled and leaned in, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel his breath on her skin. "I know how many times you wanted to kiss me but were too afraid" the Doctor breathed in her ear, "I know how when you hugged me, you sometimes thought about what it would be like to touch me in other places. I know how you used to wonder what was under all of these clothes; how you used to think about it at night when you were alone in your room…you used think about yanking off that bowtie….when you did things to break the tension….."
Clara felt her whole face burn with embarrassment; she wanted to tell the Doctor he was all wrong, argue with him. But what was so embarrassing was that he wasn't wrong. Everything he said was true. Clara pushed back away from the Doctor, hoping to resolve some normalcy to this conversation. "Doctor, you're drunk" she argued, running a hand through her hair and trying not to look at him when she felt like he could see right through her.
"Maybe….probably…..yes" The Doctor agreed with a shake of his head before fixing her with that darkened gaze. "But that's all the more reason to go along with me. We can both have what we want. No more tension…no more what ifs…we can finally get things out in the open. Because that's the problem, right? All the unknowns that we think can never be answered, right?"
Clara jumped slightly when the Doctor put his hand on her leg, the touch rushing down low in her; she should have pushed him away but she didn't. "This is wrong!" she protested, but it was weak even to her own ears.
The Doctor scooted closer to her, his hand moving ever so slightly higher on her leg and yet she still didn't stop him. She should; what was wrong with her? The Doctor was drunk, he had that to blame his behavior on. What could she blame for the sudden fast past of her heart, for the heat below her belt? "How is this wrong?" the Doctor asked.
"Well…..like I already said, you're drunk. You're not thinking properly" Clara said, her voice rising in tone as the Doctor's hand inched up higher on her leg.
"You know, I've found that when people drink, they tend to tell things like it is…..so you can interpret that however you wish" the Doctor said.
The Doctor's hand had now crept so far up her leg that it was dangerously close to not being on her leg at all; Clara fell back to try to put some distance between them, so she could think properly but the moment she was lying down, the Doctor was leaning over top of her and she realized she was in an even more precarious position. "But you're not…..you're not…." Clara started to say. Her head felt fuzzy and she tried to conjure up some anger at him to make things clearer. She'd been so angry at him all day; why did she now fell her heart beating out of her chest, tingling through her body?
"I know, I'm not the right him" the Doctor said as it was the most natural thing in the world. "But that's why I said pretend. Pretend for this one night that I am him."
"Doctor…..do you realize how bad that sounds?" Clara asked. It made her sound vain…..cheap. She wanted to get mad that he even made the suggestion but at that moment he leaned over her and instead of pushing him away, she found herself gripping onto his waistcoat.
"That's the problem" The Doctor said, giving her a smile. "You're worrying about how it sounds." He placed a hand on Clara's chest, right above her racing heart and she felt herself stop breathing. "You should just be focusing on that racing heart, that increased breathing, all those hormones running through your blood"
Clara tried to laugh but it came out sounding strained. "So….I guess you do know everything" she said. There was no point in denying anything obviously.
The Doctor grinned, moving down so that his nose was nearly touching Clara's. "Not everything" he said. "But I'm a little more…..capable in this body"
Clara didn't have time to think of anything to say before the Doctor leaned the short distance down and pressed his lips against hers. Before he had changed, she had thought about being in this situation so many times. She had dreamed about him begging for this very thing, about kissing him, about being in bed with him…he was right in saying that version of him was too innocent and oblivious for that. But when he had changed, she had though that dream had died too; he didn't seem to terribly want her around, much less want to touch her at all. Had she entertained any notions of kissing him in this form, she would have guessed it would have been cold and harsh like his austere personality. But now that she found herself in this position, she was proven very wrong.
It was like fire and ice; his movements were fast and harsh and impersonal and at the same time they were gentle, as if she might break. His hands were in her hair, running along her head and tugging slightly in places. She was frozen for only the smallest fraction of time; when her mouth opened just slightly, the Doctor's mouth filled hers, searching and claiming quickly as if he was afraid he didn't have enough time. It was like he feared she would soon vanish from his arms; either that or he was waiting for her to push him away. And she did think about pushing him away for a second for all of the reasons that made this completely not okay. The thought was quickly dashed from her mind as his tongue danced along hers, both struggling to dominate the moves until Clara gave in and let him roam where he wanted, one hand still on his waistcoat, the other clutching the bowtie. His bowtie.
When the Doctor finally pulled back, Clara was gasping for air and was surprised to find the Doctor's breath was also labored. Her head felt cloudy, desire coursing through her and telling her that she would not be able to fight this much longer, no matter how messed up it was. "I can't…can't do this" Clara gasped out between breaths. She didn't let go of him or push him away and she supposed that she didn't make a very convincing argument.
"Why?" The Doctor asked, his voice still coming in gasps despite the 'respiratory bypass' that he was always bragging about. "I thought we already worked through that argument" The Doctor pulled Clara up to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding onto her as if she was something precious. "I've missed you, Clara" he said. His voice was earnest and sad and so small…it was such a different shift and Clara could tell that it was completely honest. So much was spoken in those simple four words. He missed her; missed her wanting him, missed holding her.
"I missed you too" Clara said. She felt a lump forming in her throat as she clutched as his back, taking in a fistful of the now-almost-too-small shirt. She felt an urge to cry, to let out the sorrow and loss she had felt for the past few months; it made an odd mixture with the arousal now coursing through her veins and settling in her loins.
The Doctor buried his face in the crook of Clara's neck, still holding onto her for dear life. "Please don't push me away" he begged, his voice needy and lonely. "For just this night, please…don't push me away."
He needed her; perhaps even more than she needed him. She could think of a million reasons why this wasn't okay, why it wasn't right. She knew she would wake up tomorrow and regret it. It would most likely not set things right. There was only one reason to go through with it; he was the Doctor and he needed her and right now that was enough. Even since he had changed, he had been pushing her away and for once he needed her.
"I'm not going anywhere….I'm right here" Clara whispered to him, running her hand through the back of his head, fingers running through silky silver hair; it was a different color but it still felt the same.
"Good…..good…." the Doctor muttered against her skin, the whisper of a breath on her skin before his lips touched her neck. He pressed gently against the sensitive flesh before sucking on the spot where her heart beat. She could feel his tongue press against her pulse, making it quicken with each press before moving down. He kissed a line down her neck, leaving the smallest traces of saliva on her skin and making her shiver for that and other reasons. He kissed along the side of her neck, down to her collarbone where his lips gave a firm nibble, eliciting a small sigh from her, making the hand in his hair clench. All coherent thought vanished from her head as his lips moved from her collarbone and down further south. She gasped when his nimble fingers went to the buttons on her blouse, opening the top three painstakingly slow, exposing just the top of her bra. The Doctor's gaze lingered there silently before his lips pressed against the sensitive flesh between her breasts with such tenderness that it made Clara ache inside. It all seemed at the same time to be happening much too fast and taking too much time.
Clara could feel the Doctor melt against her as he continued to kiss her softly, the contours of his slim body fitting against hers and she arched up reflexively, seeking to gain even more contact. She had missed him so much…It had hurt. She hadn't wanted to admit, even to herself how much she had been hurt when he had changed. The man he had used to be was so open and loving; so much hugs and hand holding. He had been replaced by a man that could hardly touch her, who was always making some snide remark about her appearance…it hurt. And so she had done what she always did when threatened in such a way; she had lashed out, seeking to be as hurtful to him as he had been to her. But deep down it was there; how hurt she was that he didn't seem to want her or even need her anymore. The man on top of her now seemed to say the exact opposite, with the way his hands traveled over her form, the way his mouth sought her flesh. She ached to give him more, to give in to the desires that she had harbored for him since he was the other version of himself.
The Doctor's moves were so slow, so careful as he undid the last of her buttons with care but it wasn't quick enough, not nearly. Somewhere in the back of Clara's mind was the fear that sometime, maybe soon the Doctor would sober up and come to his senses; he'd push her away like he always did and she would never have this chance again. She began to pull at her clothes, throwing them off as she pressed hot and fevered kisses to the Doctor's face, lips and neck; anywhere she could get to in her haste to get her clothes off. At first the Doctor seemed to not understand the rush but he quickly caught her enthusiasm and helped her rip off her clothing in record time.
She realized as the last item of clothing came off and her mouth pulled away that she was completely naked and the Doctor hadn't said anything, wasn't doing anything. For one terrible second she feared that she had made a horrible mistake; maybe she'd judged something in this wrong. But then she looked up at the frozen time lord above her and came to the realization that she hadn't misjudged anything. She now knew she had the Doctor's full attention; his breath was labored as his eyes roamed over her, taking in everything from her head to her toes, lingering in choice spots. Though she didn't want it to, she knew her face flushed at the obvious attention and the very obvious need of said time lord pressing into her leg; it was a far cry from the man who said she was too short, that her nose was too big, that she looked like a man. He stared at her for so long, so silent she began to feel embarrassed by the attention.
"Not…not what you expected?" Clara asked, still feeling a little self-conscious. She was relieved when the Doctor smiled at her, ease and soft; it complemented his new face.
"You're beautiful, Clara" the Doctor said, his voice rough and husky before his mouth met hers again, open and wet and searching, probing for more. Every cell on her body was alight, ignited even more by the feel of cotton and wool rubbing against her bare skin. The way he had said it, the way he had looked at her as he told her she was beautiful was enough to dash away every ounce of insecurity she had ever had. She finally believed it.
Her skin was on fire and her heart was racing, the Doctor's mouth seemingly touching every part of hers when her hands went to the buttons on his waistcoat; she had a desperate need to feel skin against her own, to feel every inch of him before this was gone and she couldn't have it anymore. But her hand against his clothes was like a light switch being turned off; the second she tried to take his clothes off, he pulled back, his cheeks flushed.
"What's wrong?" Clara asked. It came out sounding desperate and needy; she was aching in ways that she never had before and he was stopping before they had even properly started. She wasn't sure she could take it.
The Doctor's cheeks were red and he looked almost embarrassed; a hand touched his waistcoat protectively. "Don't" he said, his voice vulnerable and small. "Leave it on"
A tremble of need ran through Clara as she looked up at him. "Doesn't seem this can go on much further with your clothes on. And you were the one who sort of…instigated this." She said it lightly but fear was building behind it. It seemed hilariously ridiculous that she was completely naked and he was refusing to remove one item of clothing; it had been his idea, he had pushed her.
The fire in his eyes was gone for a moment; it was as if the sober him shined through his eyes. "I'm…scared" he said.
Clara wasn't sure she had ever heard those words come from him and they terrified her. He was the savior of worlds, always assured, always cocky and self-confident. If he was scared, and she could tell he was genuine, it was a big deal. "Scared? Of what?" Clara asked. Though her hand was trembling with overexcited energy, aching to move faster, she put it lightly to the Doctor's cheek, urging him to talk.
He looked so shy, so unlike him and Clara worried his head might be clearing up. "Perhaps we could leave some of it on" he suggested with an embarrassed smile. "If it all comes off, it will be a bit difficult to keep up the illusion that I'm him…..you know…with all the grey and wrinkles."
He was insecure; Clara had never seen the Doctor act anything less than completely confident of himself. Most of time he acted like physical appearance mattered very little to him; after all, he'd had several bodies and seemed used to change. Though she had never thought of it before, it made sense when she really gave it some thought. His last body had been so young; to have such a contrast had to make one self-conscious. The very fact that he had come here in his last incarnation's clothes suggested he had a lot of issues with it. She found it ironic that he was the one who had insisted that she envision him as his last self; now that it came to pass it seemed to make him insecure.
Clara smiled at the Doctor before leaning in and giving him another deep kiss; this time she let her motions be slower and deeper, taking in every small sensation of the Doctor's lips against her own and his body pressed against her. She was also glad to feel that his sudden insecurity hadn't seemed to dampen his desire any.
When she finally broke the kiss, Clara's mouth leaned up to his ear, her hand pressed against his on his buttons. "I don't care about an illusion…I just want you" she said. Though she had thought she wanted that, wanted the other him, she just wanted him as he was now. Something about his usual cold nature, his tendency to push her away and keep her at arm's length made his sudden desire for her even more alluring. As much as she still did want his younger self, he was gone and she still loved him. Just as he was.
"But….." the Doctor started but he didn't get to finish.
"But nothing" Clara insisted. She had been unclothed alone for far too long and she made quick work of his clothes. At first she felt his resistance but slowly he gave in and let her pull away the clothes she had imagined undoing for so long. By the time his numerous layers were stripped away , his cheeks were deep red, looking mortified under her gaze. But she couldn't help but smile; he was grey and he did have wrinkles. He wasn't perfect but the way his bare skin felt pressed against hers was perfect.
"Not what you expected?" He asked at her silence, mirroring her own self-conscious words.
She didn't feel bad in using his own words; they were true. "You're beautiful" she said, letting her sincerity seep through her words.
The Doctor blushed deeper but he smiled and Clara knew she had won one small part of him. "But the bow tie?" he asked with small laugh, indicating the one item of clothing that she hadn't removed. Some things were hard to kill.
"Well, it seems someone seemed to think I had some fantasies regarding that item" Clara purred in the Doctor's ear, grabbing the bowtie roughly. "And I plan to make good on those fantasies"
When she leaned up and met his face, he was grinning more broadly than she had ever seen this face smile. When she used his bowtie to pull his lips to hers, she met no resistance, only a very eager time lord.
…..
Clara let the silky material run through her fingers, trying to focus only on that sensation and nothing else. But the burning in her throat and the deep sensation of loneliness and unshed tears was a lot harder to ignore than she had imagined. She couldn't even bear to sit on her bed; it still smelled like him and yet changing the sheets seemed impossible. So, she sat by the bed on the floor, trying not to feel all the emotions that were screaming at her. But it was impossible.
She had known last night going into it, it was wrong and that she would have a million regrets the next day. But her desire ridden body had won out and those worries seemed pale compared to how they looked in the light of the morning after. As she clutched the Doctor's discarded bowtie, she couldn't hold the tears in anymore and let her face fall forward to her pulled up knees and cried.
Her night with the Doctor had been amazing; it was everything that she had thought that it would be. He had not been exaggerating when he had said he was more capable now; his performance last night suggested all of the experience of his 2,000 years. Completely exhausted and at peace, she had fallen asleep in his arms. She had had the most peaceful night of sleep she could remember in years, lulled by the dual heartbeat of the time lord chest under her ear. When she had woken up, it had been a completely different story. She was cold and before she even opened her eyes and she knew that she was alone; she avoided opening her eyes as long as she could, hoping she was wrong. When she had finally opened her eyes, she found her bed empty and the TARDIS no longer taking up half of her bedroom. Clara didn't know what to make of it. Had the Doctor left last night when she had fallen asleep, leaving in the TARDIS before his drunken self had time for regret? Or, worse, had he slept with her only to have woken in her bed, horrified by what he had done and left? Whichever it was, he was gone and Clara knew he would live up to the promise of last night; it was just one night in which to play out the regrets they had always had. It likely meant nothing to the Doctor. Clara hadn't expected it to mean anything to her but it obviously had left her with the aching in her heart.
She was roused from her tears by the sound of the TARDIS minutes later; she had only a minuet to wipe her eyes and pull her dressing gown tighter around her before the Doctor had burst into her room. He was smiling, his face full of his usual end-of-the-world morbid excitement.
"Clara! Half the morning's gone and you're still in your dressing gown!" he exclaimed. "You humans…how you get around in those useless transports, I'll never know but you need to get clothes on. In the TARDIS…..five minutes" He was about to turn around and enter the TARDIS as quick as he had left it, but he stopped short, noticing the bowtie in her hands. "Is that mine?" he asked.
"You don't remember?" Clara asked hopefully, knowing her eyes were red and he was ignoring the fact so that he didn't have to comfort her. She wasn't about to say anything unless he acknowledged that last night had happened.
"Remember what?" The Doctor asked easily. Clara couldn't tell if it was serious; she couldn't tell if he really couldn't remember anything for the alcohol or if this was just his way of saying that he didn't want to discuss it. Either way, it meant the previous the night was over and done forever and Clara thought she would be fine with it. But she wasn't; she wouldn't be fine for a very, very long time.
"Nothing…..it's not important" Clara said, stuffing the bowtie into her dressing gown pocket and swallowing a growing sob as she tried to give him a smile; always moving on….
I've thought about adding to this, giving it another chapter because I dont think this night would remain a secret for very long with these two :) or I could leave it here with all of this angst. Review, and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!