Long awaited, but here we are. Again. I hope you enjoy this. And you must know the ending is in sight. Probably in a few chapters, this will be finished. I don't know. Maybe. But anyway, without further ado; Chapter Seven.

I don't own The Doctor, or Miss Clara Oswald or Doctor Who. They belong to the lovely (yet dreadful) BBC.

The Doctor wished his limbs weren't so spread out when Clara had yelled.

If his limbs weren't so long and gangly, clumsy and useless, he could have gotten to her in time. Well, he could have gotten to her faster. But he was basically stuck. Stuck between a sexy blue box and a door that was painted an absurd shade of purple. Not that he didn't like purple. Purple was cool. If he didn't like purple, it wouldn't be the color of his finely tailored suit jacket. But that wasn't the point. He needed to get to Clara, and quickly.

He shuffled from between the door and his TARDIS, then moving out of the way for the door and opening it quickly, he charged into the room. Well, better phrased, he charged into the room weaponless and lovesick, determined to get to Clara.

However, when he opened the door, Clara was simply sitting there, in the middle of the room, like nothing was wrong. How very curious. He walked towards her cautiously getting a better look at her. She was drenched in slime from head to toe, and her clothing and hair looked plastered to her body. She looked up at him and her eyes widened.

"Doctor!" She cried hysterically. He lent her one of his hands and she grasped it tightly, (it made a weird splooch sound as she squeezed it), and she pulled herself to her feet. "I-It was after me! I was cornered and I thought it was going to eat me. But it heard you, and it vanished, spraying me with this gunk. Oh Doctor, you saved me."

"I'm glad you're alright, Clara." He smiled down at her, but something churned down within him. Her huge coffee-colored eyes didn't seem as full of life and giddiness. He could sense that something wasn't quite right. Clara never cried out to him like a princess in a tower calling for her prince to arrive.

She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapping around the slender timelord's torso, like a child holding a stuffed animal. He had no choice but to hug her back, one hand on her lower back and the other in her slick hair. She was shaking slightly, and all he wanted to do was to kiss her and promise everything was going to be okay. But he didn't trust her, not yet. He didn't trust that she was actually Clara.

However, his hearts were betraying him. They were pounding. Oh why, oh why did he have to have feelings for someone who was so... Clara. Plus, in that tight of a vicinity, there was no doubt that she could feel his hearts pumping in time. His thoughts bumped around in his brain, overlapping and making him think of things that weren't even relevant. One thought always remained on the top, "Would she ever feel the same? Would she ever love me back?".

His lovesick thoughts were clouding his mind. But not enough to not be suspicious on how Clara was acting. She was pressed against him, her hands were shaking and moving slightly on his spine. The feeling was familiar but the timelord couldn't place it. It was like seeing someone on the street that you were sure you'd seen before but, they looked right through you, like you were invisible. He had so many memories. It always took him awhile to search through them all to find what he was looking for.

Perhaps it had been something he had done with another companion? Rose? She always did like hugs. Or maybe Donna, when she had collapsed with her mind full of the all-knowing universe.

Or perhaps it was another monster that he had encountered before. One that knew his weakness. Daleks? No. They wouldn't know how to change form. Cybermen? Possibly, he'd have to check the side of his Clara's face to make sure she wasn't turning half robot and loosing all her emotions.

And in order to check, he'd need his Sonic. Which was in his purple jacket. In the TARDIS.

"Clara. As much as your hugs are quite enjoyable, I'm going to need you to let go. There's something I need to check on." He smiled down at her. She tried to mimic his smile but failed, she looked angry, her brain ticking quickly, trying to find out another plan. That's what it looked like to the old timelord at least.

Suddenly, her whole expression changed in a split second. If he blinked more, he would have missed it. She pulled out of the hug slightly, just removing her arms from their wrapped position around him, her body still pressed against his and lifted her hands to his hair. Running her fingers through the locks of floppy hair that she could reach. Very curious. Clara wasn't ever this direct. She would be flirty, but she would never actually do, well... This.

Not saying that it wasn't enjoyable. It was really quite enjoyable for the old timelord.

The short brunette ran her hands through his hair, making it more fluffy than usual. She played with his hair for what seemed like hours, days, years even. It felt like she would never stop. But that didn't stop him from remembering what he had to do. He needed to get his sonic. He needed to make sure Clara wasn't a monster waiting to eat his time traveler innards.

"C-Clara..." He stuttered slightly, focusing on the girl who was playing with his hair. "I need to... I need... S-Sonic...". Despite knowing basically everything in the whole of the many universes, his stuttering and lacking in knowledge of what to do when a female (or a male) was even acting this way was quite amusing to Clara.

"What is it, Doctor?" She sounded robotic. It wasn't right. She didn't sound like Clara. He needed to get away. To get his sonic.

He tried to slip from her grasp, and almost managed it. But was stopped. Stopped by the surprisingly strong hands of Clara Oswald. She yanked down on his neck, brining his face centimeters away from hers and suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere crushed her lips against his.

He had to admit; the kiss was nice. But it didn't seem like he was kissing Clara. It actually didn't seem like he was kissing at all. It felt like he was floating, suspended in time. He had kissed others before, Rose for example, or Jack, or Martha, or... Well, now that he thought about it, he had kissed all of his companions. Maybe not voluntarily, but he had kissed them. Or they had kissed him.

All the kisses had sort of blended into one, not that everyone didn't have a different taste to them, a different smell to their hair. Rose had smelt like fancy perfume, like roses (haha, he laughed, my pun), Jack had tasted strongly of mint and smelt like a bucket of body odor which was muffled slightly by the strong cologne that he wore.

All his companions were so different but Clara, she was a whole other story.

He had been saved by so many of her. Different versions, spread through out his life, forever saving, forever dying. She was amazing. She was so very-Wait, what was that taste in his mouth?

It was very familiar, too familiar. And the more he pictured the taste, the worse the feeling became in his gut. He had experienced a feeling just like this earlier. It felt like this day even. It was. It was this day. He tried to remember what he had warned himself about earlier. Something to do with a recent monster.

The taste in his mouth was tangy, like an absurd aftertaste but stronger. He felt captured, locked away. He could feel his breathing become more shallow, his hearts felt like they were slowing down. He could feel it. His vision was quickly being eaten away by black. Pulling him away from consciousness, and quickly.

He was dying. Or at least, he thought he was.

And all at once, he realized what his mind was trying to tell him about the familiarity of Clara's lips. Clara wasn't kissing him. A creature was kissing him. The taste in his mouth wasn't pleasant. The flavor in his mouth was killing him.

It was poison.

He blacked out.

Don't kill me! He's not dead, I promise. Just simply knocked out. For now.

Sorry this has taken me longer than usual. Its not that I'm getting lazy, I just haven't been feeling all that great. I hope you'll understand, my dearest readers. Thank you for your support, and a question for you; Should I write another Whouffle Fic after this one?

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