"Clara, you won't believe it," The Doctor said grinning as he held the phone to his ear. "We're about to pass the Satanic Nebula. Observation carriage. Quick, come and see!"
He nearly hung up in his excitement but decided he'd better wait until she'd at least acknowledged his order.
"I'm in bed," she said plainly.
"Bed? What.. again?" he asked incredulously. "You were in bed twelve hours ago. How can you possibly be tired?"
Clara sighed and rolled over onto her back in the train's tiny cabin. "I'm not tired, Doctor."
"Well then, what are you doing in bed? You're missing all this," he said gesturing wildly as he gazed out into the cosmos through the glass ceiling of the observation carriage.
"Doctor, we're on honeymoon."
".. Yes?"
"Seriously," she breathed in exasperation.
There was silence while the gears in his head started turning and a sudden realisation dawned on him. "Oh, that. You want to do that again? We just did it this morning!"
"Yes," she hissed. "And it was very nice. Which is why I'd like to do it again."
"Clara, you must have some kind of chemical imbalance. Are you sure you're not malfunctioning?"
"Doctor, stop stalling and come and attend to your wife!"
That's right, he remembered, he had a wife not just a friend. A wife who had what seemed like an insatiable appetite for..
"I'm in my pyjamas," she purred as she played with the seam of her top absently. "The silk ones. The ones you like." Clara stretched her tiny frame out onto the bed and waited for his response as she pressed the phone closer to her ear in anticipation.
The Doctor looked around, just to make sure no one could overhear him. He smirked lightly when he realised he was indeed alone.
"And tell me Clara Oswald, what are you wearing underneath?" His voice rumbled in a low tone and she bit her bottom lip as a shiver ran through her.
"Come and find out," she teased. Clara ended the call abruptly and tossed the phone aside. She plumped the pillows and lay down, waiting in the near dark.
"Five foot one and irresistible," she said smugly.