Chapter Two

"If I steered us correctly…"

"Which would be an amazing feat given how inebriated you are," Clara finished.

The Doctor elected to ignore her comment.

"We should be at an American diner sometime in the fifties." He finished parking the TARDIS and started toward the door. "If we're lucky, we can probably catch Elvis later. I keep meaning to return his guitar."

Clara paused.

"Hold on; you stole Elvis' guitar?"

The Doctor shrugged, quirking his lips.

"Stolen, borrowed, one of those irrelevent human terms."

He opened the door and let Clara lead the way into the building. They were parked inside the threshold, just barely out of the way of the front entrance and probably breaking a few codes. But nevertheless, a waitress with purple eyes and a swishing tail greeted them as they entered.

Clara unconsciously froze in her pace.

"Just two of you today?" the alien waitress responded.

"Er…" Clara turned to the Doctor, who seemed to notice the woman for the first time.

"Oh. Right, sorry; yes, two of us." As the waitress grabbed some menus, the Doctor leant down beside Clara. "Okay...accidentally took us to the one in space. But close enough."

Clara smiled, looping her arm through his again.

"It's perfect."

"Right this way," the waitress called.

Clara tried not to step on her tail as they followed her down the aisle. Along the way, they passed a few other alien families, all very different from one another. One couple was seemingly human, sitting at the counter sharing chips.

Clara eased the Doctor into one of the booths and took a seat opposite, thanking the waitress for both of them before she wandered off.

"Tourists," the Doctor said suddenly. "This is a popular attraction in the nearby galaxy. 'Ancient architecture'."

"Don't tell my dad that," Clara chuckled. "He was born in the fifties."

They looked over their menus and ultimately decided on a couple stacks of pancakes and a shared milkshake. The Doctor seemed to be recovering, talking excitedly about all of the different alien races that humans inspired. Then, suddenly, as the food and milkshake arrived, he grew quiet.

"Clara?"

She looked up from where she was pouring maple syrup on her pancake to find him staring at the milkshake.

"There's only one."

She pulled a straw out of the nearby bin and gave him a baffled smile.

"Yeah, I thought we could share one. I'm not super thirsty anyway."

His eyebrows furrowed, making her smile widen. He hesitantly picked up a straw of his own, grumbling under his breath.

"What was that?" Clara asked.

"Humans love risking disease."

She took a sip of the milkshake, and then gestured for him to do the same. He merely frowned, eyes boring into the drink.

"It's not like you haven't kissed anyone before," Clara joked. Then she thought it over. "You have, haven't you?"

His cheeks blushed pink, mixing with the pink that was already there from the Jupiter Juice incident.

"Not in this body," he murmured. "Not...really. Besides Missy."

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, digging into his pancake stack. Clara watched him for a moment, and then went back to eating her own food.

A minute later, the Doctor seemed to have a change of heart. He swallowed his pancake, set his fork down, and, very suddenly, started drinking. Clara smiled to herself, and then took her straw in hand and drank as well. They made eye contact, just for a second, over the glass.

Then the Doctor's eyebrows drew together, and he pulled back with a hand on his forehead.

"Ow," he groaned.

"Brain freeze?"

"Plus Jupiter Juice catching up with me." He closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

"Finally gonna admit that it wasn't 'non-alcoholic'?" Clara jibed. When he didn't laugh, she maneuvered to his side of the booth and took his arm.

"Come on," she encouraged. "Let's get you home."

He merely groaned again, as she pulled him up with her. She practically dragged him to the TARDIS, leaning him on the doorway with one hand on his chest as she dropped a wad of universal credits onto the front counter.

"Up you get," she muttered as he started slipping to the floor.

She grunted with the effort, but got him into the jumpseat. Within a minute, he was half asleep with his limbs splayed every which way. Clara smiled at the sight, then hurried to the telepathic circuits and dipped her fingers in.

"Take us home, old girl," she whispered.

She knew exactly where they'd end up, and let the TARDIS do most of the work in getting them there.

They landed with a thud that woke the Doctor, jostling him to his feet with wide eyes.

"Clara?"

"Right here, Doctor."

He looked down, features softening into a warm smile when he saw his companion standing in front of him.

"Clara," he murmured, putting an arm around her. She almost squeaked in surprise, but took hold of his waist.

"Let's get you to the sofa."

"Sofa? Where are we? Where have we landed?" He said, slurring his rapid words.

"My place. Figured you needed a rest."

"I'm a Timelord. We don't...rest," he said, yawning.

Clara didn't even respond, half-dragging him to her sofa. As soon as his knee hit it, he dropped onto the cushions bonelessly.

"Nighty night, Clara," he said, closing his eyes even as his legs dangled over the edge of the sofa.

Clara helped him the rest of the way up, and then turned him onto his side.

"Goodnight, Doctor." She ran her fingers through his hair, relishing this one time he wasn't too off put by physical contact to do such a thing.

"Wait, Clara!" he called, sitting up halfway again.

Clara knelt down beside him with a furrowed brow. And then, abruptly, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

He smiled softly.

"Now I've had my first kiss," he said quietly.

Clara smiled to herself, feeling her cheeks blushing. She stroked the hair above his ear and said, "Nah, that's not a real kiss."

Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. His eyes widened for a moment, and then fluttered closed as he kissed her back.

Clara leaned back and smiled.

"That's your first kiss."

They shared a smile just before the Doctor shut his eyes and fell asleep, almost instantly. Clara brushed her fingers through his hair just once more, and then whispered, "Goodnight, Doctor."

She got to her feet and made sure he was still on his side and distanced from the sharp corners of the coffee table, then went off to bed in a slight daze.

Had tonight happened? Because it felt more like a dream. Perhaps it was the stars, finally pulling them together.