Laws of Attraction

12/Clara

Romance/Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter is the reason for the T rating. So if that's not your cuppa, skip ahead, it won't really change the direction of the story. Thanks to all for the faves, follows, and reviews!

Chapter 4

It hit her like a train. Or, more accurately, it hit her how the Doctor had always warned it would be if anyone tried to link with his mind- like having a piano dropped on her head.

Thoughts whirled around her and she was in the center of the tornado, as though she was standing in the middle of an old-fashioned zoetrope, with images circling her, enveloping her, sucking her downwards. How could anyone think so much at once and not explode?

In fact, she had the frightening suspicion that if she hadn't once been the recipient of a million lifetimes' worth of memories, stretching her brain beyond normal human limitations, her mind might actually have collapsed.

She closed her eyes to steady herself, and then opened them, concentrating on one of the flickering lights, just one. Forget the thousand and concentrate on the one, she'd often heard him say, when talking about their chances for escaping yet some other deadly situation.

Just one…she thought, concentrating. Show me just once what you were thinking when you didn't want me to know….

Without meaning to, she once again remembered the way he'd looked at her, only hours ago in her classroom, and suddenly she saw herself, walking down the empty corridor of Coal Hill, laughing and looking up at the only person whose memory this could be.

"Thanks for picking me up early," the image of herself said happily, holding her books to her chest as they walked.

When was this? She wondered. It definitely wasn't this afternoon, because they hadn't left the classroom. She tried to spot a calendar on the walls of the school, but realized that she couldn't tell when this had happened. Coal Hill was deserted, so she couldn't even tell by the ages of her students. He'd picked her up straight at the school (once it was empty) so many times that this could have taken place at any of them- mere weeks ago, or much, much longer. She was wearing her favorite tartan dress, one she'd owned for years, and wore so often it was a miracle she hadn't worn holes in it.

"I'll just change out of this on the TARDIS, yeah?" the image-Clara said, putting down the books and smoothing that very dress, just as they reached the blue box in her classroom.

Want to tear it off of you…

She felt it, rather than heard it, and there were two hearts in her chest that were beating faster, despite her willing them not to.

You can't know what you do to me…how I can still taste you….

The thought shot through her head, predatory and desperate all at once, a whimper in her mind. And as she saw herself stop and bend over to pick up a stray piece of paper one of her students had left on the floor, she felt sudden heat so full of passion, of possession, that it nearly overwhelmed her, along with a fresh rush of images of grabbing her from behind, and keeping her in that exact position so that he could…..

Clara jolted out of the memory, nearly dropping the coin.

She worked to steady her breathing. It couldn't have been real, it simply couldn't. In all their time together, he'd never, ever given any indication that he…saw her… like… someone he was dying to…

She shook her head violently, and looked down at the coin in her hand. It was defective. It had to be. Because even though she'd walked down the corridors of Coal Hill with the Doctor many times, even before he'd regenerated, she…

Clara stopped.

How I can still taste you?

Her mouth dropped open as she wondered what in the hell that could have meant. When had the Doctor ever… she blushed to think of it… tasted her? And just as suddenly, as though the coin was still pumping his memories into her, she remembered all the times his lips had brushed against her skin, her cheeks, her forehead, her palms, back when he'd been a different man.

When he'd been the Doctor who constantly touched her, it was true that she'd often, so very secretly, wondered if it wasn't just her imagination, that he sometimes looked at her the way she looked at him. Not just adoringly, but hungrily.

Had he ever, maybe just that once, hungered for her in a way that she'd so often dreamed of being his? Of putting his knobbly hands on her hips and pulling her against him, finally letting his mouth explore more than just the chaste areas of her body, and, most of all, of leaning in to kiss her so that she could breathe in everything she loved about him?

Had he really felt that, too, even if just for that one, fleeting moment?

Clara's own heart was pounding, and she was surprised when she felt a tear sliding down her cheek. She looked down at the coin in her hand and choked back her own emotions.

Because, a lifetime ago, it seemed they'd come so close to being something more…

And now she wasn't his at all. She was just his carer, companion, the person who desperately still loved him, even while he had so clearly moved on from wanting her in any other way than that of friend.

"So, do you want it, then?" asked the vendor, who was studying her face with apprehension.

"No, I… I don't think so," she said, amazed that she could sound so calm. "It's a little more than I can handle."

Wishing for the impossible was for fools. And if the Doctor had taught her anything, it was never to be a fool.

"Fair enough," said the man with a disappointed sigh. He put the bottle back on the shelf, and began looking past her for other customers.

Squaring her shoulders, Clara pocketed the coin, and set off to find the Doctor, wiping her eyes free of her tears and the memories that had summoned them.

To be continued…..