They're sitting on a river bank, feet dangling in the water and sloshing it around playfully. The sun has had a soothing effect on them both: so much so that they've almost forgotten what time or year they're currently in.
Though only almost. The Doctor has not allowed himself to forget, because that could mean Clara may not get home safely. He hates to admit it, and when he does he's all fumbling and red in the face, but lately he'd do anything to keep Clara safe.
"We're friends, right?" Clara asks innocently, eyes far away and gazing into the trees on the other side of the river. She pulls a puzzled face when she realises what she's just asked, for she knows that the Doctor may just be the best friend she's ever had. But she'll let him admit that to her first.
"Course, friends," The Doctor replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're the Impossible Girl; you've saved me enough times for me to realise how important you must be to me."
Clara blushes at this, giving him a look that signals she's not in the mood for cheesy comments. He's about to take it back and tell her that he meant the universe-y kind of important instead of the personal kind, but he can't, because he needs to let her know that she does mean something to him. Or else she might never know at all.
Her blush fades and she smiles at the expression on his face. The Doctor wants to yell and tell her to stop, because with all of his 1000 years' experience comes the pain of losing someone and discovering how fragile human life is. But he can't tell her to stop showing affection to him, at least not yet, because she's making him feel all warm and tingly inside. He's beginning to get a bit too attached to Clara Oswald.
"I know about the others," she says, "Don't assume I don't. But I don't mind, because there's only one of me, and you'd better not forget me, Doctor."
"There have been three of you…" he mumbles, not quite loud enough for her to hear. "And it's not like that, Clara, no. It's not like that." There are a thousand other words he wants to tumble from his mouth, but in his flustered state they would just come out in an indecipherable jumble. There will only ever be one Clara Oswald, whatever time range she shows up in. His Clara.
There's so much that could be said, but they're not sure what to say to each other anymore. Lingering eye contact leaves them shuffling closer to one another, and closeness leads to touching.
Gently on the lips.
The Doctor is clueless and hopelessly awkward at first, not having any real place to put his hands and settling on weaving them through her hair. Unlike all of the other times, he's a little more experienced, so instead of just panicking he relaxes and moves himself closer, letting himself enjoy the kiss.
Her eyes are closed in bliss but he wishes she'd open them, for he loves gazing into her eyes and seeing not the blue of the sky and the confusion of lands far away, but earth, and dirt and soil, and the immediacy of now.
He untangles his fingers from Clara's hair once their lips part, and wraps them quickly around her waist, as if he knows what he's doing. "I-I-Um… Clara," he mumbles, for he must say it now before the moment is lost and irretrievable. He feels the heat of embarrassment flare up on every inch of his body, save for his nose, which he imagines to look rather comical in the setting sun.
"Yes?"
"Clara… I… Think I love you." He has to admit it, or he'll spend his days wishing he had.
He's not usually one to invest so much feeling into a person, or at least if he does he tries not to show it. Because he knows he cannot stay forever, and that goodbyes are always the hardest thing.
But Clara is different, and he cannot even begin to question why.
Clara simply nods, gazing up at him and moulding her body to his, and all the while he's hoping and hoping that this means "I love you too." The Doctor is not in the mood to be embarrassed further.
It does, because in a couple of seconds she's blinking rapidly, as if to keep back tears, and whispering "I love you," all the while realising that these adventures cannot last forever.
But their adventure together is just beginning.
He smiles fondly at her, poking her nose playfully whilst she wriggles over to rest her head in his lap. He strokes her hair, saying softly, "Don't cry, my impossible girl. You're with me now."
She snorts a little, and the Doctor guesses she's snorting not at him but at some inner hilarious thought she's had that's come at the most inappropriate time. His brow creases.
"You promised me an adventure… Well, wait until Artie and Angie hear about this one."
His soft smile turns into an outraged frown. "Oi, no, Clara…!" he yells, knowing that once they're home he'll be teased mercilessly. The only thing that keeps him from nudging her off his lap is the fact that she's smiling now, because he cannot bear to look at a crying Clara.
Oh, and also the fact that he loves her. That plays a part in it too.
