Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or have any claim to it. It belongs to BBC, and the specific episode was written by the inestimable Neil Gaiman.
Author's Note: This idea jumped into my head after watching Nightmare in Silver. What if, the second time Clara wanted to bring the Doctor back so she could talk to him, she did something other than slap him?
Sensory Overload
Clara didn't like this situation at all. Whenever she entered this room where an epic chess match was going on, she wasn't sure who'd be speaking through the Doctor's mouth – him, or this mysterious, robotic consciousness called the Cyberplanner. For that matter, the whole idea of the Doctor being potentially taken over by a hostile entity was distinctly unnerving. He'd always seemed so solid and eternal, like nothing could touch him, even when everything around him was disintegrating.
At the moment, he sounded more or less like himself, but something was a little off. His movements were stilted and abrupt, like he was a puppet on strings. So she decided to test him.
"Tell me something only the Doctor would know," she challenged. He hesitated, which was a warning sign in itself. In Clara's experience, the Doctor always proceeded confidently and decisively, even when he had no plan and no idea what he was doing. He also rarely stopped talking. Like a master illusionist, he tended to keep up a steady stream of patter, and there was usually a reason behind it. Without stopping to think, he probably should have started spouting completely random and nonsensical phrases, filling time while his brain came up with something that might convince her. More likely, he would have pointed out how ridiculous a challenge she was presenting. The Cyberplanner had access to approximately half of the Doctor's brain, after all, and she had no way of knowing which pieces of information that access might include. In other words, the Doctor would be warning her that she couldn't rely upon anything he said, while the Cyberplanner would be trying to convince her of his (its?) authenticity.
"Well, I suppose…nobody knows how I feel about you right now," he said haltingly.
Clara tuned him out right after he told her she was pretty, her thoughts focusing inward. None of this rang true. If the Doctor did feel this way about her, he wouldn't express it this way, even in the unlikely event that he expressed it at all. In any case, it wasn't the question or answer that was important here; she was merely using the conversation as an excuse to observe things like body language, mannerisms, and word choice. By this time, she was convinced that the Cyberplanner was in control, although he was clearly learning to impersonate the Doctor at a frightening speed.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Clara leaned forward, supporting herself on the chess table, and pressed her mouth to his. This was no easy task, as she had to keep her distance from the circuitry spread across the left side of his face.
At first, there was no response. She might have been kissing a statue, albeit a warm and somewhat pliable statue. Then, she heard an electric buzz and actually felt a shift in him. The Doctor kissed her back, just briefly, like a reflex. After a second or two, though, he made a muffled noise like he was trying to say something. By that time, Clara had already begun to pull away because kissing him felt vaguely familiar, and she couldn't understand it. She was quite certain that she had never kissed him before. That was the sort of thing she would remember.
As she returned to a standing position in front of the table, the Doctor was looking at her with an odd expression. It was partly wary, partly bemused, and partly…nostalgic? She couldn't remember him looking nostalgic before, but she supposed that a man more than 1,000 years old had more cause for nostalgia than most.
More importantly, color was rising to his cheeks, which reassured her. Clara was far from an expert on Cybermen, but she had learned that they were beings stripped of all emotion, believing that to be a superior mode of existence. Surely, a creature without emotion would be incapable of blushing. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Hmm. Different sort of sensory overload," he mused. "Good thinking, but how did you know it would work?" His gaze contained an intensity that seemed all out of proportion to the question being asked.
"Just a hunch," she responded lightly, trying to hide the confusion she was feeling. They had no time to discuss this now. As frustrating as it was to know that he would probably find reasons to avoid the topic later, she had no choice but to press forward with their larger problems. "My left hand was still free if I needed it." She held up the appendage as proof.
"A hunch. Good. Always liked hunches. They're usually right, you know. The Cyberplanner didn't quite know what to do with that, but I wouldn't count on it working a second time."
"If we're lucky, I won't need a second time," Clara retorted, striving to sound more cheerful than she felt. The Doctor gave her a crooked, almost sad smile.
"No matter how things turn out, I doubt that another jolt to my senses will be necessary," he agreed calmly. He sobered quickly and leaned forward as far as he could, considering that he was tied to the chair. "Clara, I will do absolutely everything in my power to see that you and the children get off this planet safely. You believe that, don't you?"
Clara felt a chill run through her. You and the children… Did that mean he wasn't expecting to get out of this alive? She had no doubt that he would sacrifice himself for her – or for any innocent beings, for that matter, should the situation require it. That was his nature. And if he could not rid himself of the Cyberplanner, he obviously could not leave here and put other planets at risk. But if he died, what would happen to the Earth? To the universe? To her? So many people relied on him for their survival, even if most of them didn't know it.
With an effort, she swallowed her misgivings and raised herself up to her full, not-too-impressive height. He'd given her a job to do, and she was going to do it. Moreover he was going to defeat the Cyberplanner, be back to his old self, and escape with the rest of them. Clara had to believe that.
"Of course I do," she answered him earnestly. He nodded, seeming almost relieved.
"Right then, about this planet-destroying thing…"
Author's Note: Then you can assume that the scene proceeded much like the original. I'm sorry if you readers were expecting something more, but I just wanted to introduce a little twist that wouldn't have a significant bearing on the conclusion.
