Author's Notes: OK guys - the 22nd chapter will be the last! I can't thank you all enough for supporting this fic over the past few months. Massive thanks to Robyn for her continued support and beta reading of this chapter. I should have enlisted her help sooner!

I wouldn't say that the end of this fic is the end of the IT Guy verse, as you might call it. I have a feeling that I'll return to this AU for a few one shots.

Just to let you know, after this fic is over, I have plans to start another Whouffle AU (set in Who-verse) that I hope you all will check out when it's up!

Thanks again for reading!

Additional Note: Just in case others have been misled by the title of this fic, it is indeed the "Aye-Tee" guy, as in the tech guy, as opposed to the "it" guy, who the Doctor really hasn't been portrayed as in this fic. Although you could say he's the "it" guy for Clara :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Clara didn't usually get nervous about purchasing personal items such as tampons or condoms… well, okay, she got a little nervous when buying condoms, mostly because she knew the clerk checking her out probably thought she was a slag or was chuckling inwardly because he or she had the maturity of a twelve-year-old when it came to sex. Purchasing underwear was even worse, even when it wasn't the frilly kind, because she then feared that the clerk was secretly picturing what she looked like wearing them.

Those were all irrational, fleeting worries that didn't have a real effect on her mental stability. Today's purchase of an at home pregnancy test, however, nearly crippled Clara with anxiety.

Her stomach had been uneasy ever since that bout of food poisoning, which wasn't an uncommon symptom, but Clara couldn't recall the last time she'd had her period. She usually marked it on the calendar in her phone but there were months when she would forget, and normally she wouldn't worry, but normally she wasn't having this much sex. They always used protection, but still—the probability that she was pregnant was less minimal than it could be.

Clara was shaking by the time she got home after work. She had a missed call from the Doctor, and that paranoid voice in her head told her that he somehow knew and was angry with her. She couldn't talk to him. Her imagination was running wild with possibilities, the worst of which was the disappointment on her father's face when she told him she was pregnant. Even in this day and age when unplanned pregnancies outside of marriage didn't merit a public stoning, there was still a sense of shame associated with them, especially when it came to disappointing a beloved father.

She climbed the staircase as quickly as her feet would carry her and nearly fell back down when she nearly collided with Nina at the summit.

"Whoa! Didn't mean to scare you," Nina said with a laugh. "I heard you thundering up the stairs. What's up?"

Clara's lip trembled as she wracked her brain for a possible answer, but Nina already had that horrified look of concern in her eyes.

"Clara, what's wrong?"

She couldn't find the words, so she reached into the paper bag and pulled out the pregnancy test. Nina's eyes went round.

"Oh my god. Are you—?"

"I dunno," Clara replied. "Maybe."

"Oh my god. Does the Doctor know?"

"Of course he doesn't know! Should he?" she added, suddenly unsure. Clara shook her head. "No. He'll just freak out."

"Aren't you freaking out?" Nina argued, her voice a pitch higher than usual.

"Yes, but—I just…" She growled with frustration and bowed her head. "I don't want to tell him anything until I know for sure."

Nina's features relaxed and she nodded in understanding. "Well, you should wait until tomorrow morning."

"What? Why?" Clara asked, panicking at the thought having to wait that long.

"Because the results are most accurate with, you know, early morning pee."

Clara made a face. "How do you know that?"

"You think you're the only girl in this flat who's had a pregnancy scare?" Nina replied almost challengingly.

Clara gaped at her. "What? When?"

"Practically every time I've had sex. When Edwin and I lived together, I bought those tests in bulk."

"Are you kidding?"

Nina shook her head soberly. "Nope. Fear of unwed pregnancy runs deep in my family."

Clara looked down at the box in her hands and released a shaky breath. "Nina. What if it's positive?"

Nina's hands wrapped around Clara's and their eyes met.

"Then you'll have a baby," she replied frankly, but gently. "Oh my god… it's going to have an enormous head."

"Nina!"

"Sorry! Trying to lighten the moment." She rubbed Clara's back soothingly. "You'll be okay, Clara. You know you'll always have me, and I'm positive your guy won't leave you in the lurch."

Clara, who had been on the verge of tears since she entered the pharmacy, started to cry. "I don't think he will either… but I don't want him to resent me."

"Oi, he'll have to resent you as much as you resent him," Nina said defensively.

Clara laughed lightly, knowing that she'd hit a sensitive point for feminism. "I know. B-But… this could ruin everything."

"I know, I know," Nina said soothingly.

She pulled Clara into a comforting embrace and for a moment, all Clara could do was weep pathetically into Nina's jumper. She had just started to feel settled and happy in this new life of hers, and now she felt like a glass had shattered and everything was spiralling down the drain. It was a horrible mixed metaphor, but that's what it felt like: horrible and mixed.

Her coat pocket started vibrating. Clara pulled away from Nina and pulled the phone from her pocket with a shaky breath. "It's him."

"Don't answer," Nina advised.

Clara nodded in agreement. Nina knew her well enough to know that she would probably cry even more if she answered the phone, which would make the Doctor worry, and when he worried he usually materialised at her door and tried to fix whatever was wrong. Plus, Clara was a terrible liar, and she wasn't ready to tell him anything yet. She didn't even know what she would say.

"That's weird," the Doctor said with a frown when he reached Clara's voicemail again. "She's not picking up."

He and Jack rounded the corner to the street to the Doctor's flat. It was a Thursday evening and Jack had surprised the Doctor in his office after work—literally. Jack hid behind his desk and the Doctor nearly had a heart attack when Jack seemed to pop out of nowhere like a jack-in-the-box. When he recovered from his shock, the Doctor had followed with the obvious joke that neither of them laughed at before asking Jack what he was doing in town.

"Should we wait for her?" Jack asked as the Doctor unlocked the door to his building.

"I dunno," the Doctor replied with a sigh of disappointment. "She'd love to see you, but she's a long way off."

"Yeah, how does that work?" Jack asked curiously as they ascended the flights of stairs to the Doctor's flat. "You know, with the hanky panky and all. Ooh, do you guys do it at work? Your desk did look a little messier than usual."

Jack sniggered at the Doctor's scandalised reaction and then nudged him for more details.

"C'mon, I'm curious!"

"Yeah, you're the poster boy for curiosity," the Doctor replied dryly as he opened the door to his flat. "She's been spending a lot of time here, if you must know. I've, uh, actually been considering asking if she wanted to move in."

"No kidding?" Jack replied with a broad smile. "That's great!"

The Doctor wrung his hands nervously. "Yeah, but what if she doesn't say yes?"

Jack pulled a Newcastle from the fridge and silently offered one to the Doctor.

"We're going out for drinks," the Doctor reminded him in an admonishing tone.

"That doesn't mean we can't start now," Jack insisted, placing the bottle in the Doctor's already outstretched hand. Jack leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of his beer before returning to the Doctor's question. "You're not afraid of scaring her off, are you?"

The Doctor grimaced against the lip of the bottle. "I'm always afraid of scaring her off."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, but I mean… if she hasn't run off by now, I don't think she will. And even if she doesn't want to move in with you, it doesn't mean you have to break up. You can appreciate all that free space in your bathroom a little longer," he added with a self-indulgent chuckle.

"I dunno," the Doctor, bouncing his leg nervously. "I really like her, Jack."

"You don't say?"

The Doctor sighed heavily. "She'll say yes," he said, more to bolster his confidence than anything else. "And even if she doesn't, you're right—it doesn't mean the end." The Doctor leaned against the kitchen table and held up his hand like he had a key pinched between his fingers. "Do I just give her a key? Is there some sort of ceremony involved with this?"

"Jesus, Doc. You're the one who's been married," Jack reminded him, mildly in awe of the fact. "Shouldn't this all be old hat?"

The Doctor took groaned with frustration and took another sip of his beer. "Let's talk about you. How's the back?"

"Much better, thank you for asking," Jack replied with that brilliant grin of his. He had that teasing glint in his eyes and the Doctor knew what he was going to say next. "Haven't needed the medication for weeks. Sorry again about how I acted when you visited." He was positively glowing. "I forget how handsy I get under the influence."

The Doctor feel his ears turning bright red. "Well, I'll never forget," he replied bitterly.

Jack practically barked with laughter. He relished any opportunity to make the Doctor uncomfortable.

"Well, I guess we should get going, unless we're going to stay here all night," Jack said.

The Doctor checked his phone for news from Clara. Nothing.

"Any word?" Jack asked.

"No," he replied, pocketing his phone. "She might be at the Maitlands'. She still helps out with the kids whenever their dad's out of town."

"Oh, that's nice," Jack said as they walked out the door.

The Doctor knew she wasn't at the Maitlands', but it was a comforting thought. He worried that he'd done something wrong to upset Clara, and part of him knew he deserved a bit of shutting out considering how he'd reacted after Harry died. But still, he couldn't think of anything he'd done…

Which usually meant he'd done something wrong.

Clara barely slept that night. She couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of having a baby, of having to leave her job, of losing her boyfriend, or of everything she wanted in life going down the drain. She also felt like she had reached one of those crossroad moments where you reflected on all of the choices that lead you there, and she wondered why she was working as a receptionist when she had a degree in history and was, quite frankly, a terribly slow typist. By the time her alarm went off at six that morning, Clara felt like she hadn't slept a wink, even though she had slept long enough to dream about giant eggs surrounding her bed, babies hatching out of all of them.

Nina found her in the bathroom, standing over the sink with the pregnancy test in one hand and her mobile in the other.

"How long has it been?" Nina asked.

"Fifteen seconds."

"How long until you're supposed to know?"

"Within three minutes."

Nina wrapped her arm around Clara's shoulders and waited with her for the result. When the symbol appeared in the little box, Clara covered her lips with her fingers an exhaled shakily.

Clara had responded to one of his texts on her way to work that morning, so at least he knew she was alive. She hadn't contacted him at all the night before, which was unheard of considering their recent pattern of calling every night before bed, at least on the nights when they weren't actually together.

The Doctor was afraid of being clingy or irrational, but he had this feeling that something was wrong. He stood on the opposite side of the glass door that led to the marketing office and watched her for a moment as he tried to ignore the tightness in his chest. He swiped the card that allowed him entry and approached her desk, putting on a smile when she met his eyes.

"Morning," he said as he leaned against the top of her desk. "Did you have a nice night?"

He was terribly transparent. Clara grimaced apologetically. "I'm so sorry. Nina and I were watching a movie and I fell asleep around half past nine. I hate that I missed Jack. Has he already gone back to Cardiff?"

"This morning," the Doctor replied with a nod. "He's a terrible snorer."

Clara chuckled. "So the evening wasn't completely uneventful, then?"

"Nah, we just went out for drinks, and—" He gasped. "Clara!"

She giggled like the little vixen she was. "Did you enjoy yourselves, at least?" she asked in a more serious tone.

Clara was smiling, but hadn't pulled her eyes from her computer screen. She didn't appear to be busy, and for someone who claimed to have fallen asleep early, she looked miserably tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and she appeared to be having trouble focusing.

"Yeah, it was a laugh. He sends his love. So, do you want to come over tonight?" he asked.

The Doctor hoped he didn't sound too eager, not that he usually wasn't, but he was anxious to ask her if she wanted to move in with him. He was especially anxious since she and Nina were such good friends who apparently spent a lot of their free time together. The Doctor worried she wouldn't want to leave Brixton. Maybe Nina could move in too… they could find a two bedroom somewhere in the city. Although things might get complicated if Nina started bringing fellows over…

"I was hoping you'd ask," she replied with a smile, finally meeting his eyes. "Got any plans?"

"I've always got a plan."

"Oh? Really?" she replied with a wry smile and a dubious quirk of her eyebrows.

Her playfulness chipped away at his anxiety. "Yeah. You'll just have to wait and see."

Clara's grin widened and he wanted to lean down and kiss her, but they were at work. He settled for a kiss to his fingertips that he then pressed to the top of her head, his usual display of affection at the office. Clara smiled widely at him as she said goodbye and he left the office feeling more confident about the night's prospect. He even spent his lunch break having a copy of his key made.

Clara didn't realise she'd been staring blankly ahead until the Doctor nudged her leg under the dinner table.

"Earth to Clara."

"Sorry!" she exclaimed softly, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I thought you fell asleep early?"

Her eyes went round and she nodded numbly. "Right, but… bad sleep."

The Doctor hummed sympathetically around a bite of potatoes and Clara heaved a sigh as she glanced around the dining room. They were at one of those restaurants that she couldn't afford on her salary, but that the Doctor had insisted served the best steak in London. Clara had never been a big fan of steak, but he was enjoying himself so much, and it was hard to say no when he exhibited boyish enthusiasm about anything.

"How's your dinner?" he asked.

"It's great," she replied, stretching her lips into a smile.

The Doctor frowned lightly at her full plate. "You've barely touched it."

Clara stared down at the traitorous potatoes and marvelled at how keeping secrets came so easily to the Doctor when hers was nearly killing her. She had to force herself to act like nothing was amiss whenever he was around, but she didn't have enough energy to supply the effort.

"I'm sorry. I'm not quite myself tonight."

"Is everything alright?"

She smiled at the genuine concern in his voice. He sounded so young when he worried. "I guess I'm just anxious."

"About?"

"Well… I was looking at applications for teaching licences earlier."

"What?" he replied quickly, a note of mild surprise in his tone. "You want to be a teacher?"

"Yeah," she replied simply, meeting his eyes. "Always have, sort of. I mean, I'm good with kids and I've got a degree in history that needs putting to use."

The Doctor placed his fork on his plate and sat back in his chair. "I thought… I thought you liked your job."

"No, I do," she assured him. "That's not what this is about…"

"Then what is this about?" he snapped, and Clara flinched at the anger she saw in his eyes.

"It's about me figuring out what I want to do with my life," she replied defensively.

Clara stared at him in disbelief and he looked away with a snarl on his lips. She didn't know what on Earth evoked this sort of reaction in him, and feared how he would respond to the news that she'd taken a pregnancy test that morning given this surprising reaction.

"Why now?" he asked. "I thought you were happy."

"I am happy," she assured him. "I just feeling like I should be doing something more."

"Why even apply to TARDIS Industries, then?"

"Doctor—"

The lady sitting at the table next to their glanced at them distastefully and Clara felt her cheeks grow warm with frustration.

"I mean," he continued. "If you're just going to give up after less than a year at the company, I don't see why you even bothered joining in the first place."

"Why are you getting so angry?" she growled softly, hoping not to draw further attention from the table beside them.

"I'm not angry," he replied hotly. He averted his eyes. "I'm just disappointed in you."

Clara's eyebrows shot to her hairline. She released a humourless laugh and, without a word, stood from her chair, tossed her napkin to the table, and walked towards the door.

"Clara," he called after her, but she didn't turn around. If she had, the Doctor would see her features crumble and her eyes fill with tears.

Clara stepped onto the pavement outside and realised immediately that she'd forgotten her coat when the lingering chill of late spring greeted her bare shoulders.

"Hey, you alright?" asked a young man who stopped as he passed her on the street.

She laughed wetly. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Her near hysteric gasp for breath did little to convince him. He was still there when the Doctor emerged from the restaurant carrying her jacket.

"Clara, I'm sorry."

"Did this bloke upset you?" the stranger asked.

Clara groaned with frustration. "It's fine—thank you."

The strange man wouldn't leave. Clara finally had to tell him to piss off, and by that point she was openly weeping. When he left, she turned to the Doctor, who was watching her with concern.

"You," she began, hitting him in the chest, "are—a—complete—arsehole!"

The Doctor leaned away from her, but did not try to stop her as she punctuated her words with more smacks to his chest.

Clara took a step back and gasped for breath as another sob threatened to escape her lips. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry' doesn't fix everything, you know," she spat.

The Doctor didn't respond. Clara wiped frantically at her tears and turned away from him so she could regain her composure. She felt hatred and resentment bubbling up in her chest, but worst of all she could still feel that deep, soul-penetrating love for him that had filled her every moment for the past few months.

She turned around to face him, her features resolute as she looked him in the eye. "I took a pregnancy test this morning."

His eyes grew wide and his lips parted, but otherwise he didn't move. "You… you're…?"

She shook her head, unable to suppress a light laugh at the look on his face. "No. I'm not. But I thought I was. And I got really, really scared. Because I didn't know what would happen. I like to know what direction my life is going to go, and that just… I'm not ready for it."

The Doctor nodded energetically in understanding. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Clara laughed again. "I wanted to wait until we were alone." She sniffed—her face felt like it was filled with a water balloon. "I stayed up all night worrying. But even after I found out I wasn't pregnant, I still felt like I wanted another job. And I don't see why that—"

She was about to chide him for lashing out at her, but then she realised what had gone through his mind when she'd expressed her desire to leave TARDIS Industries. Clara released another tiny breath of a laugh and stepped forward until their toes were touching.

"Doctor, my wanting another job doesn't mean I want to leave you."

He frowned, but nodded in reply. Clara placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him gently. She didn't know what he was thinking right now, but she wanted this tension between them to disappear.

She shivered as a stiff breeze whipped through the street and the Doctor opened the coat in his arms and draped it around her shoulders. Clara waited for him to meet her eyes, but his eyes remained glued to the space between them.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Good."

They both smiled. The Doctor pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her in a warm embrace, the sort that eased another load of tension from her shoulders and encouraged her to lay her head against his chest and close her eyes.

"I think you'd be a good teacher."

Clara smiled against his jacket. "Yeah?"

"You've proven you've got the patience for it," he said dryly.

Clara chuckled and looked up at him. "Are you equating yourself with a child?"

He made a noncommittal sound and bobbed his head to the left, which made Clara laugh properly. The Doctor then reached into the inner pocket of his jacket for a small box.

"I was going to give you this during dinner. I don't know if you'll…" He sighed. "It's just, you're over so much, I figured you ought to have your own."

Clara opened the box. Resting on a little poof of cotton was undoubtedly a key to his flat. She smiled at it.

"Now you don't have to knock when you come over. Or you still can, if you want. Or you could just… stay. All the time. Well, not all the time, just the times when you're not at work or not out or—"

"Doctor, are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Um…" He glanced upward, his lips still humming the 'm' thoughtfully.

Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers, successfully drawing his attention back to earth. Her jacket fell from her shoulders when she lifted her arms and the Doctor was quick to catch it, his hands holding it tightly to her back as she breathed against his lips.

When they pulled apart, he licked his lips and said, "So… is that a yes or a no? 'C-Cause I can't tell. This is really confusing."

"I'll need to sort it out with Nina, but I want to say yes."

"Even though I'm an arsehole?" he said, grimacing at the reminder of his behaviour from earlier.

"Yes, but you're my arsehole." Clara's glanced away and adopted a look of mild disgust. "That did not sound right."

The Doctor opted not to comment and instead placed her coat back around her shoulders with a fond smile on his lips. Clara slid her arms into the sleeves and then took his proffered hand before leading him away from the restaurant.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they turned the corner.

"Home."