This is a short one compared to the last two, but I felt like putting this together with the following chapter would be a bit overwhelming and much to throw at you at once. So here's a shorty. Enjoy! And thank you guys so much for the reviews!

Chapter 9

Clara fought the urge to bang her head against a really hard wall, but decided to instead bury her face in the much softer couch cushions. She had pushed him without even meaning to, but sometimes she forgot that almost 100 years lay between now and her own time and Pete seemed like an old fashioned man, even for the 80s. While people in late 21st century were pretty straightforward in their romantic advances someone from the 80s seemed much more reserved and careful. Clara had noticed his hesitation but not taken it seriously enough. Pete simply needed a little more time.

And maybe so did Clara? She had only met him a couple of days ago, but she was certain he was what she wanted. He was much older, yes, and also constantly drunk, but he never failed to be kind and considerate. And he needed her, lonely as he was. It was that need that drew her to him. She had been desired and even loved, but never needed.

OOO

Clara hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until a banging sound woke her up. She felt a little disoriented at first but when she looked around the living room she soon determined the source of the noise to be someone outside of the flat.

"Clara, are you there?" It was Pete's voice, followed by some more vigorous knocking.

She picked herself up from the sofa and walked towards the door.

"I'm coming, you can stop the noise," she said right before she opened the door to the corridor.

Clara only had to look at Pete's figure leaning against the door frame to realize he hadn't been out for fresh air. Or had been and afterwards decided to get completely hammered.

"Sorry, couldn't find my key," he mumbled apologetically.

Clara rolled her eyes at him and reached into the pocket of his coat, producing the key within seconds.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh, come in," Clara demanded, sounding a little more annoyed than she really was. She thought about apologizing but didn't think that Pete had actually paid attention to her tone of voice. He seemed even more out of it than during the first nights she had witnessed him come home drunk.

When he didn't move Clara took the initiative and offered her arm supportively, almost dragging him inside the flat.

She shook her head while almost carrying his dead weight through the living room.

"How did you even get home?" she asked.

"Veeeeery slowly," he drawled.

Clara managed to shuffle him into the bedroom and convinced him to sit on the bed while she untied his shoes.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, his speech slurred, "I know I made a promise."

"Shh," Clara hushed him and threw his shoes into a corner. She sat down next to his swaying figure, "Just sleep now, okay?"

"No," he insisted, taking Clara's hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of it, "I am sorry. I let you down. In more than one way."

"We really should talk about it tomorrow, Pete. You need sleep."

"But I need to tell you. Right now. It's important."

Clara sighed. She really wasn't sure how much his drunken apologies meant and whether he wouldn't just have forgotten all about them the following morning, but she realized that she wouldn't get him to sleep unless he had said what he wanted to say.

"Okay," she said finally, "Go ahead."

She watched him for a moment, his drunken mind trying to find the words he wanted to say as he kept leaning in her direction. Yet he never let go of her hand.

"I am terrified," he admitted after a while, trying his best to speak distinctly, but not quite succeeding in it, "You're an angel. I want you more than anything. I am so sorry I couldn't."

"It's okay, Pete. We can try again," Clara reassured him.

"I want you to know. It's not you. But you deserve better. A young man, not some old ruin like me. I can't give you anything. I can't even get it up," Pete's eyes wandered away to some other point of the room.

Clara reached out and cupped his face in both her hands, forcing him to look at her again.

"Listen to me," she said determinedly, "I want you and as long as you want me we are going to find a way. We can take it slow, we can try different things." His unfocused eyes slipped away from her again, "Look at me, Pete. Don't give up. We'll make it work, I promise."

He nodded slowly.

"Can we go to sleep now?" Clara asked carefully, still holding his head in her hands.

Pete took a deep breath.

"I haven't been with a woman in over ten years," he confessed.

The last statement shocked Clara the most. She knew that his wife had left him a long time ago, but being the first woman after that, the first women he had let get close, that was something she hadn't expected.

No wonder he was terrified. Clara with her fierce approach had probably overwhelmed him completely and all of a sudden she was the one feeling like she should apologize.

With no idea what to reply Clara leaned closer to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

"Let's go to sleep," she whispered and finally he obeyed and settled in a lying position.

Clara covered them both with the duvet and wrapped her arm around him, resting her head on his chest. It didn't take him long to close his arms around her body and she heard him sigh in contentment.

"Good night," she said softly, but there was no response. Pete had already fallen asleep.