I'm sorry. I meant to upload this yesterday but I couldn't access the website :( So, here's your new chapter – I hope you enjoy it. And thank you guys so, so, SO much for the reviews. I've looked through my account today and realized that this is the most popular fanfic I've written so far. I'm truly flattered you like it so much. You're great :D

And if you're interested in a little fun besides this fanfic, I've written something called "Twelve Reasons Why Eleven Was Easier To Handle", which I also uploaded here. Be sure to check that out if you're in for a laugh ;)

Chapter 11

They had been sitting on the sofa for quite a while, just holding each other. Clara couldn't tell how much time had passed but she guessed it was time to pick up Isabel from school.

"I didn't finish baking," Clara suddenly remembered what he had wanted to do before all of that.

"Mh?" the Doctor asked.

"I was about to make a tart. I, I didn't finish," she explained.

"I can make the tart while you pick up Isabel."

"You?" Clara struggled free of his embrace to look at him.

"Hey, I'm quite good at cooking and baking. You just never let me," the Doctor defended himself, "Just let me this once."

"I have a better idea. You pick up Isabel, I make the tart. I'm sorry, but I don't trust you around the kitchen."

The Doctor made an attempt to get up but Clara wrapped her arms back around him. "No, don't go just yet."

She didn't know what had gotten into her, but before she could stop herself, she heard the words come out of her mouth. "I love you."

ooo

At least her second dinner party went better than the one before, mostly because their guests weren't aliens, Clara thought. The parents had been nice, a little boring, but nice and Isabel and the twins had tired the dog out so much it was now sleeping peacefully in its basket.

"Let me help you with the dishes," the Doctor said and joined Clara at the sink.

"Thanks," she said with a smile and handed him a dish cloth.

"I'm glad Isabel made friends already. The twins seem nice."

"You can't remember their names, can you?" Clara eyed him suspiciously.

The Doctor's sheepish laugh was enough for Clara to prove her right.

"So, I've been thinking about something," she started.

"About what, darling?"

"You know Susan works part time."

"Yes?"

"She said she might be able to get me a job, too," Clara suggested, "I wouldn't have to work every day and only for a few hours. But it would be nice to get out of the house once in a while."

The Doctor laughed. "But you don't have to work. Especially now that I got my promotion."

"I want to," Clara said, "I love the house work and Isabel and everything but it would be nice to go out for other occasions than picking up Isabel and grocery shopping."

"Honestly, I don't know. What does it say about a man when he lets his woman go to work?"

Clara put her arms akimbo. "Well, I don't know," she said angrily, "Maybe that he's married to an independent woman whose life doesn't revolve around the kitchen."

"Forgive me, Clara," he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Sometimes I'm still a bit old fashioned. If you really want a job, you should get one. Just. . ."

"Just what?"

"Just pick something respectable?" the Doctor ducked away slightly as if expecting a blow.

"What do you think of me? I was thinking about the book store. Respectable enough for you, mister?"

"Book store seems fine," he said and continued to dry the dishes she put in front of him, "I'd rather you changed your mind, though."

"And I wanted you to change your mind about the puppy. Look how that turned out."

ooo

When they had gone to bed, Clara started to ponder his words. Maybe she should change her mind about the job. After all, how long would they be here?

Clara found it hard to admit, but she started to get comfortable with her new life. Maybe even a bit too comfortable because sometimes she forgot it was all just temporary, like earlier when she had talked to Susan about the job. It hadn't even crossed her mind then that all of this could be over in a day, a week or a month.

Clara missed the stars, the travelling, but she had never felt at home anywhere ever since her mum died. But this, this felt very close and it wouldn't get easier to give up.

She turned around in her bed and snuggled up to the Doctor, who immediately put his arms around her. Would he still do that when he was back to normal? Probably not.

ooo

Clara once again tried to put on stockings, but still with no better results. They were expected to attend the wedding of a colleague in about an hour and although Clara had managed to go without appropriate hosiery so far, tonight she needed to wear them.

The Doctor entered their bedroom and Clara realized in an instant that he, too, wasn't ready yet. He worse shoes and black trousers alright and had already put on his black jacket, but the white shirt underneath was still only halfway buttoned.

"You know, it's great that Isabel is sleeping over at the twin's place. We don't have to worry about the babysitter," he said before he apparently realized she was struggling with her garter belt. "Need help with that?"

"No," Clara replied, "Yes."

Clara sat down on the bed and sighed. "It's the damn stockings. I hate them. I should have bought tights."

"I prefer stockings," the Doctor said as he knelt down in front of her and started adjusting the lace trimmings, "Tights are all practical, but stockings, they look. . .nice."

Clara gently smacked his head. "Hey, dirty."

"Sorry," he mumbled with a smile as his hands slid over her leg to fasten the last strap to the stockings.

Clara felt the heat rise into every cell of her body. She couldn't tell whether it was the touch or the way he looked with his hair still dishevelled and the shirt unbuttoned, or whether it was his cologne that she liked so much.

"There, all done," he said but his hands were still lingering. Clara didn't even hear what he said, the blood was rushing in her ears. To hell with the Doctor! She wanted John Smith now.

Clara took him by the collar of his jacket with both her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. The Doctor lifted her up without a visible effort and threw her further onto the bed, landing on top of her only an instant later. She started sliding his jacket off, which wasn't easy, since his hands were all over her.

"Careful," he said in between kisses, "You'll wrinkle the suit again."

"Just take it off."

And at that moment the doorbell rang. Clara groaned in frustration.

"Noooo, not now!"

"That must be the cab," the Doctor said and rose from the bed. He offered Clara a hand to help her up. She took it, but instead of letting him help her, she pulled him back onto the bed.

"Hey, that's not fair," he laughed and kissed her again, "We'll continue this tonight."

"Okay," she agreed grumpily and followed him out of the bedroom.

"How does my hair look?" the Doctor asked as they passed the mirror.

Clara smiled. "Sexy."