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Chapter 10

The Doctor caught her at the last moment before she could fall and held on to her while Clara fought to regain her balance.

"It's okay, Clara. It's me. Nothing to worry about," he told her calmly, "Just hold on to me."

Clara blinked a couple of time, her gaze unfocused. "Doctor?"

With Clara still in his arms the Doctor reached for the glass from which she had been drinking and sniffed its content. Bitter. Just like he had thought. Furiously he turned around to face the young man Clara had been talking to and who was still sitting on his bar stool as if nothing had happened at all.

"You can tell your boss that you've failed," he growled.

The man gave a nervous laugh. "My what?"

"The man who hired you to do this!" the Doctor spat angrily, "Tell him to stay away. Clara Oswald is under my protection."

"Doctor, I'm sick," Clara wheezed. She was limb in his arms and swallowing hard to keep it down.

"Come on, let's get you some fresh air," the Doctor told her and when Clara nodded he helped her outside, steadying her with his grip.

However as soon as they were out of the door Clara let go and staggered away from him. Holding on to the wall now she bent forward and emptied the contents of her stomach on the pavement. The Doctor walked up to her once more and laid his arm around her, stroking the hair out of her face while she was still coughing. She was shivering in his arms.

"Yeah, that's it. Out with the poison," he told her calmly when she wiped her mouth. Eventually she turned back around to look at him. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."

Clara made an effort to walk away but obviously realized that she was too unsteady on her feet to make it home on her own and didn't protest when the Doctor reached out to hold her.

"What was that?" Clara asked him, slurring her words.

"It's a drug they used to experiment on spies during the war, to make them a little more cooperative and willing to talk. Effects are a lot like alcohol, but it made most people sick, so they stopped using it. You'll be fine after you've slept, it will have worn off by morning," he explained to her as they walked in the direction of her home.

"I feel woozy," she admitted after a while, leaning her head against him.

"That's okay. That's normal," the Doctor comforted her, "It'll all be over by morning."

"Mh," she muttered in response.

When Clara stopped talking and the Doctor was left with only the thoughts in his head he realized for the first time just how angry he really was. It seemed Mendon would stop at nothing to get to Clara, even dragging some of his colleagues into this mess to drug her. The Doctor didn't have the slightest doubt that the young man would have taken her anywhere except her home for interrogation – and probably worse. And all this just because of the woman in his arms who couldn't appear any more ordinary. He had to protect her, the Doctor knew that much. Even Clara probably didn't know just how much danger she was in.

By the time they had arrived at her house Clara had grown increasingly tired – and also giggly for some reason he couldn't quite understand. Probably the effects of the drug. However she seemed to be quite enjoying their slow walk home.

"Do you have your key?" the Doctor asked her.

"You saved me," she slurred, grinning at him, "Again."

"You can thank me later. I'm gonna need your key," he told her, trying very hard to look at her even though it seemed almost impossible with the way she was staring at him.

"In my pocket," Clara replied and leaned back against the door.

"Which one?" the Doctor asked a little too impatiently. He wanted to get out of this cold and he needed to get Clara out of this cold as well before she really caught an illness.

She giggled in reply, looking right at him. "Breast pocket."

The Doctor took a deep breath. He had feared as much. "Clara, I can't reach into your breast pocket and I'm pretty sure that under normal circumstances you would kill any man that tried," he told her calmly, extending his hand, "Please, take it out and give it to me."

Finally Clara complied and reached into her pocket, handing over her key just moments later.

The Doctor wasn't quite sure how long it took them but eventually they had reached the right floor but before he could unlock the door to her apartment as well he felt her weight sink against his chest.

"Clara? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice sounding worried.

Then she looked up at him again, grinning and suddenly he became aware of just how her hands were feeling up his chest. "You said I could thank you later," she grinned, still struggling to get the words out, "I want to thank you."

Before the Doctor could react Clara had brought her lips to his neck and the feeling of her touch shot straight through his entire body, making his heart beat just a little bit faster. Gently the Doctor pushed her away once he realized just what she was doing.

"Clara, you-" he didn't have time to finish his sentence when suddenly their lips touched in a kiss and the Doctor took a moment, a small, short, tiny moment to take in just how warm her mouth felt on his own, how soft her lips were, how long it had been since his last kiss when he finally came back to his sense. Clara wasn't in her right mind, he couldn't possibly give in to her kiss, now matter how good it felt.

The Doctor gathered up all his strength and pulled away, keeping Clara at arm's length while he looked at her. Her eyes were glazed and a little red. He couldn't possibly take advantage of her.

"Just sleep and get well again, that is thanks enough," he told her as he turned around to unlock the last door.

When Clara leaned against the frame and didn't budge to actually enter the Doctor closed his arms around her once more and lifted her up, carrying her the rest of the way until he could safely lower her on her bed.

She uttered a sound once her head hit the pillow and Clara immediately closed her eyes while the Doctor busied himself with taking her shoes off.

"Just sleep," he told her, "I promise you'll be as good as new in the morning."

"Mh-mh," she murmured in response when the Doctor covered her with her duvet and an additional blanket.

It was freezing in here, the cold air still coming in through the crack in the window. That should really be taken care of.

"You need to have a chat with your landlord. The cold is unacceptable," he said but there was no reply. Clara had already fallen asleep.

The Doctor rose from her bed and was already on his way out when he changed his mind about leaving. Clara was utterly vulnerable right now, her friends weren't home yet. If someone came back for her, if Mendon decided to pay her a visit there was nothing anyone could do about that.

So the Doctor reached for the last remaining blanket, unfortunately a very thin one, and retreated to the sofa that took a spot in the middle of the room. He would stay here tonight and watch over her, making sure that no one would harm her.