They walked in near silence, it only being broken by their footfalls and Clara's passing remarks about the weather and various other subjects the Doctor wasn't particularly paying attention to. She had reached for his hand almost immediately after having stepped out of the TARDIS, and although the Doctor had flinched rather violently at the contact, he hadn't pulled his hand away. Because, whether she existed only in his head or not, Clara Oswald was the woman he loved, and he didn't think he would have been able to stand the look of betrayal that would've appeared on her face if he had. Added to which, Clara, despite her legs being half as long as the Doctor's, was a few steps ahead of him, dragging him along behind her to an unknown destination. He was thankful for this, truthfully, as it saved him from having to tell her that he didn't know what chippy she wanted to go to.

He didn't have to wait long to know though, as they hadn't even walked four blocks when Clara stopped walking and joined a queue on the street.

She let go of his hand -which didn't come as much of a surprise to the Doctor, as he wouldn't have wanted to hold the hand of someone who was sweating as much as he was, either- and he sighed, his tense shoulder muscles relaxing significantly. His relief was short-lived, however, as Clara cleared her throat and it occurred to him that if she was about to address him properly, he would have to reply, something he wasn't too keen on doing as there were others in line and he didn't fancy the idea of them hearing him speak to empty air.

"I've been meaning to ask, why did you put my jacket in a closet? You know I keep my clothes in the drawers in our bedroom. I spent ages looking for it."

Wanting to keep his answer short and brisk, he responded with "I'm sorry. I forgot." and bit his tongue as soon as the last two words left his mouth.

"You forgot that too, did you?" The look he had been dreading to see again had resurfaced. "Tell me, Doctor. Why have you been forgetting things all morning?"

He opened his mouth to answer, his mind scrambling to find a reasonable lie, but he noticed that there was no more line in front of then, and took the opportunity to avoid answering. He stepped up to the counter, ordered, and flashed his psychic paper -it displayed a coupon good for a free order of chips- and then shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels as he waited for them. Clara stood by him in silence, perhaps understanding that this was a conversation the Doctor wanted to have somewhere else, if at all.

"Here you go," the man behind the counter pushed their basket of chips and two forks towards them.

"Why two?" asked the Doctor. Clara and the man looked equally confused.

"Well you can't share a plate of food with only one fork, can you?"

"Who says I'm sharing?"

"Is she not eating anything?" he asked, motioning to Clara.

The Doctor ceased breathing. He spoke slowly, "You mean you can see her?"

"Yes I can see her. What's that supposed to mean?"

"Doctor, you're scaring-"

But the Doctor wasn't listening. He turned to the woman in line behind him, "Can you see her?" he asked, pointing to Clara.

"Of course I can. What-"

He didn't bother listening to anything else she had to say. He turned to Clara, an explanation already on his lips, but halted when he noticed the tears pooling in her eyes. "Doctor, what is wrong with you?"

"Clara, I-" He stepped forward to grab her hand, but she backed away.

"No. Stay away from me."

"Let me expl-" But he didn't have time to finish. He had received a cup full of iced water in his face -evidently Clara had taken it from the hands of someone nearby- and fled.The Doctor barely noticed the stares of those around him, nor did he react to his soaked-through shirt, he just stared at Clara's retreating figure, unbelieving and, for the first time in centuries, euphoric. "Oh my God," he whispered, "She's real. She's actually, properly real." And with that, he ran down the street after her.

It didn't take long for him to catch up, as his long legs carried him further than her shorter ones did, and he was soon close enough to call out to her. "Clara!"

"Leave me alone!" She nearly ran into someone, causing her to stop momentarily, and giving the Doctor enough time to grab her wrist. "Get off!"

"Clara, I-"

"I told you to leave me alone!"

"Clara, please, let me explain."

"You stay away. You've been acting so strange all morning, and I-" Without warning, the Doctor picked Clara up, threw her over a shoulder, and, ignoring her shouting and protests, ran the few remaining blocks until they reached the TARDIS. He put her down, gently, trapping her between himself and one of its sides. "What are you doing? Doctor, let me go right now, or I swear I'll-" She struggled to get away from him, despite how light his hold on her was.

"Shh. Clara, please don't fight me. Please. There is a lot that is new here, more than I can tell you, and I'm having trouble processing it all, okay?" He held her face with both of his hands, wiping the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, only for them to be replaced by fresh ones.

She choked back a sob. "Then talk to me about it, don't pretend like I don't exist! What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know, and I'm sorry. I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around the reality of this situation. You're here. And it just seems…impossible." She gave a small smile, her resolve of anger having been weakened by the sincerity or The Doctor's words and his big sad eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Just kiss me, Chin Boy." He froze momentarily, panic visible in his eyes for a fleeting moment before a breath he hadn't known he had been holding left his trembling lips. It was everything he wanted, truly, and perhaps it was because of this that he was reluctant to give in to his desire. Now that he had accepted her as real, he feared that he would lean in to kiss her only to find that she wasn't there at all. It would be a fine jape for the universe to play on him, as it so loved to see him suffer. But he tilted her chin up anyways, hesitating once again before he captured her lips with his.

He sighed in contentment and relief at the pressure he had expected to be deprived of.

The taste of Clara's tears mingled with what the Doctor assumed was just the naturally intoxicating taste of her tongue, and his hands roamed her curves before settling on her waist.

It took little time for their kissing to become more heated and fervent, their breaths more rapid and shallow.

"Should we go inside?" He asked, as he trailed kisses down the length of her neck.

"It's nearly time for me to pick up Artie." She responded unconvincingly.

He smirked. "Well, luckily for us, we have a time machine." And so, snapping his fingers to open the doors, he pulled her into the TARDIS after him, his last coherent thought being that perhaps, on occasion, the universe wasn't so cruel after all.