His large hands cupped her face, drawing it to his. Their foreheads touched gently, and as they had done several times before, each one crossed over from their consciousness into the other's mind. Clara had got so used to it that the Doctor's mind, once alien and strange to her, now felt like home.

(Are you ready, Clara?)

(Oh yes, more than ready.)

And then had begun the delicate dance of moving into each other's minds, with the Doctor coaching her. The greatest challenge was actually separating a part of her psyche to lock it into the Doctor's. In the end she was certain his was more firmly embedded in hers, but she had done her best under his direction. He seemed satisfied, anyway, and when it was done, they joined their bodies together in passion to seal their union. The memory of that warmed Clara's cheeks and made her even more relaxed.

"CLARA!" His voice out loud disturbed her from her reveries, and she frowned.

(Shh-I'm so warm and cozy. Want to take a nap.)

(NO! Oh Rassilon-)

('S okay, I'll be all righty, rooty, tooty. Just feel tingly allll over.)

(Clara-!) The sound of his thought was strangled, as if he was choking on his words. Curling into a fetal position, Clara felt a pleasant warmth spread all over her body as her mind drifted off.

About fifty feet away, Vastra and the Doctor crashed through the undergrowth in the direction the Doctor could sense Clara's muddled thoughts coming from. Vastra was a bit unsure of how he was able to pinpoint her location due to how frantic he looked over the thought of his wife being in danger; but she could relate, knowing how frantic she had been many times when Jenny had faced peril. She was relieved, however, when the Doctor gave a cry at locating Clara in the foliage by the bright red jacket she was wearing. He dove straight for her.

Tumbling onto the ground next to her, he scrambled into a sitting position and pulled her into his arms. Her body was stiff, her eyes closed.

(Clara-darling-heart of my hearts, my life, my own-CLARA!)

Madame Vastra came over just as he threw back his head and cried aloud in agony.

"NOOOO-CLARA-NOO!" Tears streamed down his cheeks and he sobbed in anguish. Holding her body close to his, his lament filled the forest. Vastra pulled her sword and swept the area with a glance, lest his cries bring the beasts of the forest down upon them. She stood guard as he rocked back and forth with his despair. He buried his face against Clara's, frantically kissing her.

Vastra's heart almost broke at the sight of him, and she considered turning her back to allow him to express his loss unobserved (as well as to keep an eye out for dangerous creatures). But before she pivoted away, something bright caught her eye.

"Doctor," she hissed, staring in surprise at what she was observing. She leaned forward and shook his shoulder. "Look," she instructed when he lifted pain filled eyes to her. She pointed at one of Clara's hands.

His jaw trembling as he took in a shuddering breath, he gazed at what she indicated.

Clara Oswald's hand was glowing a bright, golden light.

In matter of fact, Clara Oswald's entire body was becoming encased in golden light.

The Doctor dropped her like a rock, and stood up rapidly, almost knocking Vastra over.

"What is that?" she queried, looking at the Doctor with round eyes.

With incredibility lacing his words, he gasped out, "She's-she's-regenerating."

He turned and grabbed Vastra's arm, heading for a tree with a wide trunk. "Quick," he panted, "get behind it." The two of them almost collided again behind the tree. They both peeked around it, looking back to Clara, whose body was fully encased in the swirling, golden energy.

Suddenly the Doctor grabbed his head and cried out in pain.

"What's wrong?" Vastra asked, touching his shoulder with concern.

"Ahh," he moaned, rubbing his temple. "Clara's in a lot of pain. I, I can feel it."

At that moment Clara's eyes snapped open, and she let out a wail.

The Doctor shut his eyes and concentrated on seeing if he could reach out to her mind. He pushed past the intense pain he knew she was feeling, and activated the link of himself in her mind.

Clara, who a few moments before, had drifted off into a void of nothingness for an unknown amount of time, suddenly found every cell in her body screaming in pain. She couldn't see anything clearly except for the golden light that blinded her. As she cried out loud, she heard her beloved's voice in her mind. A sense of love and security came with it, as if its owner was trying to reassure and comfort her.

(Clara, darling, it's me. It's all right, you're going to be all right. Just concentrate, sweetheart. Think about who you are and what you want to be.)

(I want to be myself! I don't want to be anyone else!)

(You will be yourself, dearest. Just, maybe, a little different.)

(What do you mean? What's happening to me? Why do I hurt so much?)

(To put it simply, you're regenerating. Every cell in your body is changing. Like I do when I regenerate.)

(Regenerating? How, how is that possible?)

(Because you're my impossible girl.)

The pain started to lessen, and Clara's writhing stopped. The golden light began to dissipate from her body. The Doctor, who also had stopped feeling any pain, darted forward towards her.

"Careful!" Vastra cried out, sensing that in his relief and rapture that Clara was still alive, he might overlook the fact she was still regenerating, and be dangerous to touch. He didn't appear to have heard her as he dropped down beside Clara's form.

Vastra had never seen the Doctor regenerate, but she knew about it from things he'd told her over the years. And to her eyes, Clara didn't look any different than she had a few hours ago, before this ordeal began. Her breathing looked regular, which meant she was still alive.

But to the Doctor's eyes, who knew his beloved Impossible Girl from stem to stern, he could see subtle differences. She looked younger; her hair was slightly longer. It appeared to him that she'd shaved a few years off herself. Ah well, give her a few more regenerations and she'll get the hang of it, and try something entirely different. I wonder how she'd look with black hair, he idly thought.

And then he quickly sucked in a breath. Clara! Oswald! Had! Just! Regenerated!

He threw back his head and howled in joyous laughter. Vastra, watching him, wondered if his long-rumored madness had finally taken over. He leaped to his feet, almost dancing with happiness. Running up to Vastra, he grabbed her shoulders. His expression was almost blinding in its glee.

"She can regenerate! Vastra, she can regenerate!" he babbled.

"I see that," Vastra dryly observed, wondering how long before she'd have to knock him senseless.

"No, you don't understand," he said, dancing away to stand near Clara's still prone form. "This means she's like River. I won't lose her like all the others," he sighed, a tear slipping down his cheek as he gazed at his beloved.