EDIT: Another fic from tumblr.

A/N: A whouffle party thing, whoo! I took one of the words from the prompt list, specifically 'beach' because the beach is possibly the best thing in the entire world.

So… yup. Hopefully this doesn't suck, seeing as I haven't written in a long time…

He isn't sure whose idea this was. If it was his, then he decides that he needs to have a stern talk with himself, because bringing Clara Oswald to a beach was possibly the worst idea his brain could've come up with.

She's next to him, stretched out like a cat in the sun, sand caking her feet. Normally that wouldn't be a problem - the Doctor likes having her near. It gives him a sense of peace. The problem is that as soon as they arrived at the beach, Clara pulled the light dress she was wearing over her head, revealing what had to be the skimpiest swimsuit he'd ever seen in his life. Honestly, how could that be legal? She might as well be walking around naked.

The Doctor quickly shakes himself, scolding himself for even thinking about that sort of thing. Bad Doctor. He's not supposed to fall for humans, he reminds himself, and he's certainly not supposed to look at their arses, either.

Clara yawn, lifting her head lazily and glancing to him. "You alright, Chin?"

He nods. "Completely fine, that's me."

She just stares, biting her bottom lip like she doesn't quite believe him. He stays focused on keeping his eyes on a strand of hair that's fallen out of her messy bun and hangs against her cheek. He doesn't want to know what she'd think if she caught him staring.

"You're going to burn if you don't put on sunscreen." she observes, rolling onto her side. "You're paler than a ghost."

"Nah, I'm fine." he tells her. "Timelord skin is much tougher than you'd imagine. Can stand up to something as simple as sun."

She, annoyingly enough, tans. Not that he's surprised, when Clara's already incredibly and breathtakingly perfect.

Bad brain. he scolds again. Don't think about her like that.

"Come on!" she urges, and he snaps out of his thoughts to see her standing up. "Let's cool off."

The Doctor isn't quite sure what she means until she starts dragging him towards the water. "Clara, are you sure? There could be sharks. There could be alien sharks. Oh, or shark-squid hybrids!"

"Doctor."

"I'm serious!" he insists. "On Clom, they have creatures that-"

"Doctor."

The Doctor glares at her. "It's cold."

"Yeah, and the sun is hot. Perfect balance."

"But Clara…" he's desperately trying not to think about how Clara and a wet bikini will be much worse than Clara and dry bikini.

He doesn't get time to complain any more, because she's pulling him in, and goodness is the water cold. Even with his Timelord biology it's chilly, and he can see goosebumps forming on Clara's legs.

She giggles at his look of pure consternation. "Baby. You've got an advantage over me in body heat, and do you see me complaining?"

The Doctor sighs in defeat, sloshing closer to her. "If you get eaten by a shark-squid I'm not saving you." he pouts.

There aren't any of the aforementioned creatures about, so Clara just leads him in until the water is up to his chest and up to her neck. Finally getting used to the water, the Doctor wanders further in.

"Oi!"

He turns back to see Clara bouncing up and down, spluttering as her mouth goes above and under the water. Of course. She's shorter than him, she can't go as deep.

"Sorry," he says, starting to go back for her.

To the Doctor's utter surprise, she manages to awkwardly swim over, arms flailing until they come to rest against his shoulders. "Stay." she orders, spitting out salt water. "Blimey… you're ridiculously tall."

"Am not! You're short."

She glares, in that endearing way of hers. "No 'm not."

Suddenly he's aware of how close she is to him, and how his arms have somehow betrayed him and snaked around her waist. Damn. He doesn't remember doing that. He's also certainly not thinking about how soft her skin is, and how warm and comfortable her weight is as she leans against him.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmmm…?"

Clara grins up at him. "You're staring."

"Oh." he blushes. "Sorry."

"I didn't say I minded, did I?"

And then her lips are pressed up against his, and oh, it's complete and utter bliss. She tastes like salt and mint and something uniquely her. His limbs stay in place for once, one hand pressing into her back and pulling her closer, the other weaving into the hair at the base of her neck. Her sea-chilled hands, so tiny and delicate, wrap around his shoulders like she won't ever let go.

When Clara pulls away she's rosy-cheeked and beaming. "I think I like beach."

"I think I do to." he says. "We should come her more often."

She snuggled against him, cold nose brushing his chest. After a moment, she says, "Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"You can snog me anytime you like. Not just the beach."

He's so surprised that he nearly drops her, just barely managing to keep a grip around her waist. When she finally catches a glance of his absolutely scarlet face, she bursts into laughter.

They stay there until the sun goes down, kissing and teasing and shivering in each other's arms until the cold is too much to bear. Then the Doctor carries her to the beach, despite her protests, and lays her in the sand so he can kiss her properly. It's all lips and hands and a lot more skin than either of them are used to, but it feels right.

My Clara.