A/N: I was attempting to keep this entire story at a "T" rating but alas, I think this chapter might be pushing it. I wanted to illustrate a point with this particular arc. It's simple anatomy/physiology and I think a "T" rating would suffice but just know from here on out the language is going to be bit more "mature". I'll most likely change the rating to "M" at some point. Again, I wasn't planning on this fic being mature but all my other fics are so…what the hell :P

The Doctor woke up a bit disoriented. He'd never had a hangover before but imagined that how he currently felt was pretty close. He blinked a few times and noticed that his ceiling was different. He then remembered why the ceiling was not what he usually woke up to on the few nights he slept. He wanted to sit up quickly and look for Clara, but his limbs were dead weight. He slowly sat up. It took every ounce of strength just to prop himself up against the chair that was near him.

The movement made him dizzy, and he couldn't help throwing up all over himself. His reflexes were so slow that he wasn't able to move his head to the side to keep from getting sick all down his front. That's when he felt someone handing him some tissues and rambling on about 'miracles or magic or something.

"Claa…raa?" he said slowly.

His tongue was even fatigued. He knew that this could potentially happen, but he was willing to suffer for a few hours if it meant he could see the now smiling face that was right in front of him. He tried to smile back, but it wasn't worth the effort. He then heard the familiar sweet voice.

"Now, I have loads of questions but seeing as you're not able to talk, I'll just ask you this for now. Are you going to be okay?"

He slowly nodded his head 'yes'.

"Oh, thank God! Because if you did what you did for me only to end up like…well, this, I would be furious at you!" she laughed.

Clara was walking around his office. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her as well, but just sitting up was tiring. He really wished he could move enough to at least take off his vomit-covered shirt.

"You passed out for only about fifteen minutes," said Clara as she scanned the books on his bookshelf. It wasn't an extensive collection. He could fit just one small shelf in his office that contained a few books on pregnancy and some children's books to occupy siblings while mummy spoke with her doctor.

"Hopefully, you'll be better soon, so no one gets suspicious."

Clara looked over at the silent man and could see his eyes go wide. He made as if he was trying desperately to speak, and she went over to him.

"It's okay. I'm sure we can come up with a good story to satisfy your co-workers."

She noticed he shook his head in what seemed like 'no.'

Because the Doctor wasn't worried about what his co-workers would think. Being locked away in his office with some mysterious woman. Instead, he was currently worried about the fact that he really needed to use the loo. And given his current lack of muscle control, he was pretty confident he knew what would happen next and that he would promptly quit his job and move far away if anyone, especially Dr Andrews, found out.

Clara could tell he was pained by the look in his eyes but didn't know what was wrong. It wasn't until she noticed the growing wet spot on the crotch of his trousers that she understood why he was trying to get her attention. He had his eyes closed and lowered his head.

"Oh! It… it's okay. It's… it's really. It's not a big deal," Clara said, trying to comfort him. "Having been wearing adult nappies for over a month and my father having to help take care of me, you really have nothing to be ashamed of."

He nodded his head in understanding a bit faster than previously as he was starting to regain his strength and muscle control. The Doctor was embarrassed, but Clara had been humiliated far worse, so he still had no regrets for putting himself in this position. As he began to regain control, he started to speak.

"I'm… I'm really sorry for that."

"Don't be silly. You healed me. And besides, I work…well, worked, at a primary school, remember? Wouldn't be a proper teacher if I wasn't dealing with a bit of vomit and someone wetting their pants at least once a week."

He gave a small chuckle. He knew he'd only healed Clara physically, but her whole demeanour had changed as well. He brought himself up off the floor with a bit of Clara's help and sat in the chair. He took a deep breath and was now able to move for the most part. Nevertheless, he still felt extremely weak and a bit shaky.

"Clara, could you hand me that set of scrubs over there? I… I'd like to change."

Clara picked up the clothes and handed them to him. He had difficulty taking his tweed jacket off, so Clara started to help him.

"Looks like I get to be the doctor today."

Of course, she'd only meant that she was taking care of him like he was the patient but just hearing her say "the doctor" made him smile. It occurred to him that this must have been what it was like for her all these weeks. Completely helpless and having to depend on others for simple tasks.

Clara was now helping him take off his trousers since his upper body was situated. He could feel his face turn red in embarrassment. He'd often dreamed of Clara, undressing him again. But not like this. This is definitely NOT how he wanted the first time this Clara would see him naked. Not that he thought this Clara would ever see him naked…*cough*.

As Clara was helping him pull off his urine-soaked pants, he cursed in his head because he could feel himself starting to get hard. He wasn't even aroused, necessarily. It just sort of happened, and the more the Doctor tried to NOT get an erection, the more his efforts were in vain. He tried to think of things that would stop his arousal.

'Dead puppies. Mondays. Apples,' he grimaced at the thought of the horrid fruit, then continued his arousal halting thoughts. 'The fact I wet myself right in front of Clara. Yes, Clara. The beautiful woman who is currently taking off all my clothes...whoops.'

Clara didn't say anything as she helped pull the hospital scrubs up over his now fully erect penis.

"I'm really, really sorry. Clara, I'm really sorry. I…" He thought she would for sure be offended and quickly covered himself with his hands. He felt so out of control with his own body and so humiliated that he was now silently crying. Great. Talk about wanting to sweep her off her feet. Of course, he didn't choose to heal Clara in hopes that she would fall in love with him. But he also wasn't going to deny that he hadn't thought about the possibility of it. Floating around in the back of his mind. And now she was trying to comfort him like he was a toddler.

"It's okay, Dr Smith. It's natural. I know it doesn't mean anything. It happens."

He wiped his tears as she went over to the chair at his desk. Clara was now sitting where he would typically sit while he was seated where all his patients sat and, more often than not, shed a few tears from the overwhelming emotions of either being told good news or bad news.

"You know, it's funny," she began.

"What?" he asked, wondering where she was going with this. Because maybe to her, the fact that he threw up all over himself, wet his pants right in front of her and then got an erection within the span of thirty minutes was definitely NOT funny to him. He felt…shame? He couldn't quite place the mixture of emotions. He also felt guilty that Clara was walking again, and all he could think about was his own embarrassment.

"I don't mean it's funny as in I'm laughing at you. Hardly. It's just funny in an ironic sort of way."

He made a face of confusion as Clara expounded on the meaning of her observation.

"You look after women all the time whose bodies are going through so much and doing things they often don't have control over. If you think you wetting yourself or getting an erection is embarrassing, think about all the women who've had your hands all up in their vaginas pulling out babies. Not to mention everything else that comes with pregnancy and childbirth. The emotions, weight gain, the blood, the incontinence. Being naked in front of strangers in a very vulnerable way. It can be very embarrassing."

The Doctor thought about what she was saying. He didn't care for her saying that he had his hands "all up" in women's vaginas, but she wasn't technically wrong. It was his job to examine his patients towards the end of the pregnancy. To check how things were progressing. Not to mention when it came to the birth itself. He quickly got over his discomfort with the idea of childbirth after watching Clara go through it. Yes, it was excruciating to watch. Not to mention a bit…icky. But all he could think about was how strong and beautiful she was through the whole process.

He knew Clara had mentioned being embarrassed about some of her symptoms a few times or that strangers would see her naked, but he thought it was just her Victorian values coming through. That or she was spending so much time with him that now she easily blushed too.

He finally spoke.

"But, I'm their doctor. Why would they be embarrassed? Giving birth is a normal and very natural part of life. Their body just did an absolutely amazing thing. It's a miracle. I would never think any less of a woman for… Ah, I see what you did there," he was chuckling.

She was smiling at him.

"Exactly. You just performed a miracle. For me. With your body or whatever it was. Science-y voodoo magic. Frankly, I don't care. Thank you. And I'm sorry it hurt you. It wasn't fun seeing you in pain and humiliated. But, sometimes, bringing amazing things into this world causes pain. Like the ache in your muscles after a hard day's work. Yes, you're sore, but that's how you know you did something good. Pain with a purpose."

"You are very wise, Miss Oswald."

"Well, I didn't get hired to teach youths for nothing."

They were both just looking at each other with slight smiles on their faces when the work phone on his desk rang. Clara hit the speakerphone, knowing he wouldn't reach the receiver fast enough.

"Dr Smith," he said, trying to sound like he didn't just experience the full gamut of emotions and bodily functions in a rather unprofessional way.

"It's Nate. Um. Everything…okay? I'm about to end my shift and just uh, wanted to…check on you."

"Ah. Right. I'm…fine. We, uh… we're…."

Clara could tell that "Dr Smith" was floundering a bit with what to say, so she mouthed to him a script.

"We were…talk…talking about…having a baby? NO! Clara was asking me to…give her…um, my opinion. On whether she….should have a baby." He then quickly added, "Given her medical condition. You know, risks and whatnot. Being well, paraplegic."

Clara smiled, indicating he did well in his deception.

"Oh. Okay. Did you just tell me her medical information without consent?"

"Oh god! No, she's not a patient. She's my…um friend. She told me I could tell you what's going on." The Doctor shrugged his shoulders at Clara.

"Hello, Dr Andrews, is it? It's Clara. We've got you on speaker. Just wanted to apologise for my umm, rudeness. Was a bit distraught, but all is well now. Dr Smith here talked me through some things. We should be done in a mo."

"Right." The man cleared his throat. "Well, glad you've gotten everything sorted. See you, John. Nice umm, meeting you, Miss Oswald." He then hung up the phone.

"Well, I think he bought it," sighed the Doctor in relief. Clara was laughing.

"What?"

"I'm fairly certain he thinks we've been shagging in your office."

She was snickering now.

"What?! But…wait. Why? Oh, God. I'm going to lose my job."

She was laughing harder now.

"I'm just takin' the piss. Not like he could prove anything. Plus, I don't think I would even have been able to."

The Doctor put his head in his hands and huffed an exasperated laugh.

"Well, let's just make sure you're still in the wheelchair when you leave."

He lifted his head and was chuckling and then got serious. "I should also take you to the TARDIS and give you a once over to make sure everything is okay. I'm pretty sure you're fully healed, but I don't have any way of knowing without a proper scan."

Clara looked confused. "Okay, now, I was holding off addressing the MAJOR elephant in the room aka, how you healed me but…what the hell is a TARDIS?"

The Doctor slammed his palm to his forehead as he exclaimed, "ow!" He looked at his hand like it had a mind of his own, then to Clara.

"Right, I forgot. You wouldn't know about the TARDIS." He took a breath. "Well, for the sake of time, I'll give you the quick rundown." He stood up straighter and went to adjust his bow tie, then realised he had taken it off.

"Uhh right, so the TARDIS is my ship that stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It's a spaceship and a time machine. Oh, and to address the Elephas maximus in the office, my name isn't Dr John Smith. It's just "the Doctor". I'm an alien from outer space. I'm a thousand years old. I've got two hearts, and I have the ability to regenerate and use some of that energy to heal you. Which took a lot out of me. Clearly."

Clara was nodding along, absorbing the information.

"You're a what?"

"An alien. Time Lord, actually."

"An...alien."

"I am. Yes, okay with that?"

"Oh, yeah. Think I'm fine."

"Oh, good."

There was an awkward silence. The Doctor clapped his hands together then pulled the wheelchair near Clara. He looked at the clock on the wall.

"Ah, good. I'm not on-call anymore. The next shift is arriving so I can leave with you. I've got Craig's car, so it won't take long to get to the house and pop into the TARDIS."

"What about all that." Clara pointed to the vomit and other bodily fluids on the floor along with his discarded clothes.

"Right. Umm." The Doctor quickly grabbed a plastic medical biohazard bag and shoved the clothes inside. He looked at the mess on the floor.

"Well, I suppose I should clean this before the caretaker comes through. Just hang on."

The Doctor ran out of the office and snuck into the storage room to grab cleaning supplies. As he emerged, he bumped into the nurse that had been with Dr Andrews earlier. She gave him an odd look.

"Patient got sick in my office."

She then lifted her eyebrow, and he remembered he wasn't wearing his own clothes. "Of the projectile nature," he added with a grimace. The woman just shook her head and kept walking. He ran back into his office and shut the door. Clara was looking over a picture of himself and Paul when he was only three.

The Doctor smiled and then got to work at scrubbing the rug.

"He really is a sweet boy, Dr Smi…er Doctor."

He threw the paper towels in the bin and stood next to her.

"He really is. Must have got all the good parts from his…mother."

He took a step back, feeling his hearts speed up, being so close to Clara yet so far at the same time.

Clara just chuckled. "I will say though, Doctor, he definitely has your features. I take it he got his wild hair from River?"

He was grateful she wasn't looking at him because he couldn't help cringe at the fact she still thought River was Paul's mother.

"Umm, yes. You could say that. Although, not quite sure how he ended up ginger." He laughed. It wasn't a lie, after all.

Once the Doctor felt satisfied with the state of the office. He helped Clara into her coat and pulled on his own. He then pushed her out into the corridor.

"Umm, Doctor? Could we make a quick stop at the women's loo before we leave? I'd like to not have to use the nappy now that I'm able to function."

She laughed as her face turned red.

"Certainly." He brought her to the door, and she managed to take it from there. Clara emerged and rolled towards the exit a few minutes later as the Doctor followed.

They were silent as he took over and pushed her into the car park. Once they felt they were far enough from the building, Clara ditched the wheelchair and walked to Craig's car. The Doctor folded the chair and shoved it into the car's boot. Unfortunately, Clara would still have to spend a few weeks pretending to slowly yet miraculously recover her ability to walk.

The Doctor came around and opened the passenger door for Clara.

"Didn't realise how cold it was now that I've got my feeling back. That and I've got nothing on under this dress."

She shut the door, and the Doctor had to will himself to walk to the driver's side and not think about the fact Clara was not wearing any knickers under her short dress. He sat down and gave a nervous cough before starting the engine.

Clara didn't seem to notice his awkwardness and just looked out the window as the lights went past them. It was nearing sunrise, and he smiled to himself when she began to quietly snore. His Clara only snored when she was dead tired and in such a deep sleep that it happened. He figured this Clara was probably similar. He pulled in front of the house and nudged her shoulder.

"Clara?"

She mumbled something but didn't wake. She looked so peaceful. Like she probably hadn't slept this well in ages. Which given what she'd been through, it was probably the truth. The Doctor went around to her door and gently picked her up to bring her into the house. He figured they had time before examining her in the TARDIS. Clara was already a small woman, but now, it felt almost like he'd been carrying Paul into the house given her weight loss. The Doctor saw that Craig was still asleep on the sofa, so he took her to his room and laid her on the bed. He tucked her in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well." He said as he exited the room.