Chapter Two

Since visiting the Singing rains of Zotania, the Doctor had become much more relaxed. Well, he wasn't averse to landing the TARDIS anymore, and he no longer ran out of the room when Clara began to ask him questions. However there was still the problem that he seemed unable to even want to get involved when trouble started. Twice he had just left at the first sign of trouble. The last time he clear blindsided Clara, refused to tell her why these soldiers where beginning him to stay, to help them fight, he had to all but strap Clara into the TARDIS so they could leave.

"What the hell is with you lately?" Clara asked angrily once he'd finally stopped looking like he might actually kill her for asking. Of course her question just riled him back up again.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me." He snapped.

"Oh really? Because last I knew of the Doctor he wouldn't have just run away from people who needed his help!"

"They didn't need my help, they were soldiers who wanted me to kill for them!" he cried.

"What about the people before them? You refused to help them too!" Clara pointed out.

"Maybe it's about time the universe learned to defend for itself. Maybe they should learn that the Doctor isn't always just going to drop out of the sky and save them all!" he replied bitterly, refusing to look at her.

"You are not the Doctor." Clara said in a quiet angry voice. He turned around like she'd struck him. "The Doctor is never cruel or cowardly. That was his promise. The Doctor would have stayed to help those people and you, you didn't."

"I did it for you Clara." He practically growled at her now, new rough voice sounded threatening. "I've watched you die far too many times for me to count, my predecessor may have had little problem taking you, the real you, back out into those dangers but I cannot handle the thought of losing my Clara…" he said it like an angry confession.

"Don't you dare use me as an excuse!" Clara growled back "I've been through your timeline, I know things I shouldn't know, I remember nearly every one of my deaths and every moment you saved someone. I trust you completely and utterly, don't you think you should owe me that trust not to get myself hurt or in trouble?"

He said nothing, just looked at her, before he turned around to the control panel and began to fiddle with the buttons. Clara sighed, still angry, she stalked out of the control room intending to head for her room to calm down, instead at the last minute she found herself heading for the library where she had spent a lot of time lately. She picked up the apparent original manuscript of Macbeth by Shakespeare she had begun earlier and resumed her place on the large red sofa that had appeared with the TARDIS's latest redecoration.

Sometime later, Clara became aware that the tickling hairs on the back of her neck where trying to tell her she was being watched. She glanced up, spotting the Doctor watching her from the doorway. Once he knew he had been spotted, he came into the library and sat at the other end of the sofa as far away from her as he could reach, but on the same seat.

"Do you really think I'm a coward?" he asked quietly into the hushed silence of the library. There was no trace of anger in his voice, nor on his expression.

"No" Clara replied with a sigh, putting down Macbeth and giving him her full attention. "I was just angry and a little upset. I wanted to help those soldiers, but you were right. They wanted you to kill for their cause…"

"I can't prevent wars."

"I know that."

They both paused, not really sure what to say next.

"Clara. About the memories of your echo's…?" he asked in a voice that told her bad news was about to follow.

"Yeah, I thought you said I would only remember tiny flashes. But these come all the time – sometimes in dreams, or if you say or I see something that is familiar to a memory. Sometimes I don't even realise that's what they are at all, and sometimes they hurt like they're crushing me…"

"Clara that's really not good, you should have told me sooner."

"You had your own problems, coming off the back of a difficult regeneration and all."

"Doesn't mean I couldn't help you."

"I didn't want you to focus completely on me, though apparently that's out the window. Are you really too concerned about my safety to go out and save people like you used to?" Clara was looking him directly in the eyes, and he found it difficult to turn away at all. "Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"If I get hurt it's my own damn fault and you'll have to deal with it." Clara huffed.

"Are you going to let me help you with the memories or not Clara?" The Doctor huffed back.

She paused, noticing of course his quick switch of topic. "Fine."

He waved for her to shuffle closer to him on the couch, which she did until their knees where touching. She was painfully aware of the heat she felt coming from him, once again wondering if Timelords were just naturally hotter than humans.

"I'm going to build walls and block some of the memories out alright?" he said, hands hovering over her temples.

"Okay."

He hesitated. "This could leave some residual contact between my mind and yours… it could go one way, it could go both ways. If it does Clara I ask that you mind my privacy and don't wander into a mind that is not yours."

"Of course, though you might have to teach me how."

"Of course."

Without further hesitation the Doctor lightly placed his hands on the sides of her face. She wasn't sure exactly how to describe the feeling of having the Doctor rearrange her thoughts and memories, only that she could feel almost invisible fingers combing through her mind. The memories he hid from her, it wasn't quite like she forgot them. She knew she had them, but she couldn't remember them – as though memory of the entire situation had fallen out of her head. She noticed that the Doctor was rather selective of the memories he hid from her- they were mostly the memories of her deaths. Not that she minded, remembering dying wasn't really nice.

When he was done, he removed his hands from her face slowly and gave a slight smile. Clara's smile was brighter. They spent the rest of the afternoon in a companioned silence, breaking it occasionally with questions and thoughts, but otherwise enjoying each other's company.

OoO

Clara smiled as the Doctor held her softly, bending down he stole a kiss from her soft lips. She smiled more against his mouth, arms going around his neck as she deepened the kiss, when he bit down on her lower lip she allowed him access without a fight, moaning as his tongue explored her mouth.

Clara began to fumble with the buttons of the Doctors shirt, pushing his coat down his shoulders already. His hands where calmer than hers, taking their time as they began to brush the skin under the hem of her shirt, smoothing over the soft skin of her sides and round her back, fingertips brushing her spine lightly as they when further up, pushing her shirt up with them.

Clara woke suddenly, sitting up in bed panting. "What the hell was that?" she asked herself since no one but the TARDIS could probably hear her anyway, and she expected the TARDIS would be just as confused as her.

Clara rubbed her bare arms as she sat there in the dark, lights starting to come on slowly as if the ship was gradually waking up herself. She'd never had a dream like that about the Doctor, despite any small attraction she felt for him.

Alright she lied to herself. Clara was attracted to the Doctor, no lying about it. It was strange in fact that his predecessor has been the one to hug her, hold her, make compliments and press soft kisses to her forehead, and yet while enjoying the gestures she had never felt anything for him. This new Doctor however… there was something in his ice-blue eyes that had Clara wondering what it would be like with the Doctor. Eleven she would have assumed to be more playful than anything, but Twelve… he looked like a man who could use the 2000 years of experience he probably had and really show her a good time.

And yet a dream like that still concerned her. She'd never dreamed like that before, not about any man. Clara threw herself back down in the bed, flinging the blanket from her body now that she was feeling far too hot.

She felt the psychic connection of the TARDIS open for a second against her mind.

"This could leave some residual contact between my mind and yours…" a memory of the Doctors words echoed in her mind.

Clara frowned at the roof. "Are you suggesting it was the Doctors dream, not mine?" she asked thin air, wondering if the TARDIS would even make an attempt at a reply.

The ship hummed.

"If it was… he wouldn't like you telling on him you know?" was all Clara could think as a reply.