Author's Note: I posted this drabble a couple of days ago on my tumblr, and I wasn't originally planning to post it here as well, but I figured, "Eh, why not?" So here it is. It's quite short and it takes place during "Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS," right before the Doctor rewrites the entire day. Enjoy, and thank you for your time!
The Doctor emerges from the crack with a huff and a skid, nearly falling over before his gangly muscles straighten and steady in that impossible way. Clara raises an eyebrow, having expected something a little more dramatic and, well, instantaneous than this simple return.
"Isn't this all supposed to be gone now? Erased?" Her words are followed by a swoop of her hand.
"Yes. Well, sort of. We have just a sliver of time before the other, former me presses the button," the Doctor explains, retracing his steps until he's standing before her again. He hesitates then, his brow furrowing as he studies her closely. That same confounded look - the one that means he still hasn't quite figured her out and it's driving him mad - twists his tired face. Despite the curiosity blooming at the back of her mind (why is he still torn, even after their wall of secrets has been demolished?), Clara holds his gaze.
Time must be closing in on them now, because the Doctor seems to reach some kind of decision that clears the doubt from his eyes like cobwebs being swept aside by a broom.
With one hand resting at the base of her neck, he swipes his thumb along her jaw line. Clara's gaze flickers from his eyes and to his lips, confusion and intrigue paralyzing the rest of her. There's no time for questions, however, because the Doctor doesn't waste another moment before lightly caressing her lips with his own. Careful and surprisingly steady as the action is, Clara yields easily. She can vaguely feel her ears ringing 'You won't remember' in a phantom taunt, but that only pushes her to a determined reciprocity.
She can feel the world fading around them, every atom collapsing and dissolving until all that's left is the tingling of her fingertips against his vest and the unbearable warmth of his skin against hers. Then, all at once, the warmth intensifies into white heat and a blinding light that somehow reaches behind her closed eyelids. Everything is disappearing, not so much in a fade as an explosion, but her lips are left numb from his kiss.