The television in the living room no longer played a sci-fi movie. Instead, a political satire show was on, but not much could be heard. The only sound discernible was the humming noise coming from the fridge in the kitchen, but even that didn't bother the two occupants lying on the sofa.

The Doctor was lying on his back, one arm supporting the back of his head and the other wrapped around the beautiful woman lying in his arms. They were shielded from the cold by a blanket, both feeling content as they basked in the afterglow.

He glanced at Clara, who was lazily tracing circles on his chest. A small smile formed on his lips. How on earth did he get from arguing with this woman 24/7 to having her lying next to him in this cramped sofa?

"Why are staring at me like that?" she asked a hint of amusement in her tone of voice. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was slowly lulling her to sleep.

"Just thinking."

She looked up, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "About what?"

John gently caressed her arm. "How we ended up here."

Clara arched a brow. "Do you need to be reminded of what we did just now?"

He kissed her hair.

"Or is old age getting to you?"

The Doctor shifted slightly. "I am not that old," he grunted.

"Yes, I've been proven otherwise," she laughed, kissing the nape of his neck.

Clara Oswald hadn't felt content and happy in a while and she was finally glad to be able to experience those feelings again. She had no regrets whatsoever sleeping with her colleague and ex-rival. In fact, she was glad their date turned out better than expected. There was a softer side to the Doctor which he rarely showed at work, let alone to her before this, and she loves it.

"Well, would you look at that, you're doing that thing again," he teased, tearing her from her thoughts.

"Doing what?"

"The thing with your eyes – they're inflating!"

Clara lightly slapped his chest. "No, they're not."

"Were you thinking about me?" he continued. "Is that why your pupils were dilating?"

"There he goes with his ego."

The Doctor laughed before he brought the back of her hand to his lips. "I was right though, wasn't I?"

"Not dignifying that question with an answer," she replied, now resting her chin on top of his chest.

His hands travelled to the small of her back, tracing her spine with a finger, which elicited a giggle from her. "Could it be that Dr Clara Oswald is ticklish?" he asked playfully.

The way he had pronounced her name gave caused the hair on her arms to rise. She never realised how much she loves his accent. Clara leaned forward and brushed her lips against his.

Suddenly, she felt the Doctor shift around and before she knew it, she was underneath him. "Let's see just how ticklish you are," he murmured, eyes dark and filled with something she couldn't quite comprehend.

She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and connected their mouths once more, both smiling and giggling.

All was quiet that morning, the television now playing the news, curtains still closed, protecting the two figures from the shining sun as they continued to sleep.

The peace didn't last long however, as the sound of a ringing phone roused the Doctor from his slumber. He shot his eyes open, and shifted slightly, before realising the weight on his right side. Clara. She was still fast asleep.

The ringing continued and he tried his best to reach for his trousers lying on the coffee table.

John eventually grabbed it and pulled out his phone from one of the pockets, reading the name on the screen. Missy.

Clara stirred in her sleep and she instinctively buried her face in the crook of his neck, groaning.

He quickly answered the call. "Yes," he said with a raspy voice.

"You sound like you have a cold," his sister commented.

"You woke me up," he replied, lying back down and caressing the woman lying in his arms. He hoped she wasn't awake just yet.

"Well, get out of bed, because I'm outside," Missy instructed. "Went grocery shopping earlier and found those chocolate doughnuts you love so much."

"What?" he exclaimed, and Clara opened her eyes, lifting her head slightly.

"Do you want them or not?" Missy asked, annoyed. She felt as if she just wanted money and energy trying to be nice to her brother for once.

"I'll… be there in a moment," John stammered before hanging up.

"Who is it?" Clara asked, eyebrows knitted.

He cleared his throat, reaching for the trousers again. "Missy, she's here."

Her eyes widened as he untangled himself from her, searching for his clothes. "Is there a place I can hide?" she whispered, wrapping the blanket around herself.

"Bedroom," the Doctor answered, handing Clara her clothes and the bottle of wine before she quickly trod upstairs.

Just before he unlocked the door, John made sure to switch off the television and check his appearance in the hallway mirror. He looked normal, not a trace of the remnants of the previous night.

"Finally," Missy grumbled about to shove the box of doughnuts into his chest when she suddenly paused halfway through. "You look different," she commented, not quite able to figure out what was wrong or right with her brother.

"You woke me up," he grunted, grabbing the box. "If that's all, see you tomorrow," he said, about to shut the door when his sister blocked it with her foot.

"Now hang on just a bloody minute," she said, forcing her way in. "Did you get into a fight with a racoon or something?"

"Why do you ask?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"Your shirt's inside out."

The Doctor looked down and indeed, he was wearing the shirt the wrong way. "It's because I was in a rush to answer the door."

Missy squinted her eyes. He wasn't pouting, so he must be telling the truth.

She decided to investigate further by examining the living room. It looked as if her brother had been sleeping on the sofa, but he could have gotten up in the middle of the night and slept in bed for all she knew. "Where's Idris?"

"Upstairs," he answered. "She just gave birth."

Missy's eyes lit up. "Is that so?" he commented, grinning. "Let me guess, the Impossible Girl's cat is the father?"

John grimaced, hoping that Clara didn't hear her nickname. He quickly glanced at the staircase. "Yes."

His sister chuckled. "That's one way of bringing you two closer."

She then settled on the armchair, giving the indication that she wasn't going to leave anytime soon. "Does she know?"

"Yes, I told her."

"The two doctors and their little cat family," his sister purred. "How cute."

John glowered before he plopped down on the sofa, opening the box. "Anything else, Detective Chief Inspector?"

"Yes," Missy answered. "When are you going to shag Dr Oswald?"

The Doctor coughed violently, before swallowing the doughnut he was chewing. The sound of something being dropped was heard coming from the stairs.

If only she knew what happened in this very living room.

"What sort of question is that?!" he demanded, going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"From the way I see it, I think you and Clara Oswald are secretly pining for each other if you take away all the arguing and bantering."

"Please stop sticking your nose into my private life," John groaned.

"I will, once the two of you stop being so dramatic," Missy said triumphantly, rising to her feet. "And I'll be honest, I really want to know what's going on after what happened in the lift."

"None of your business," he grumbled as she made her way to the front door. "Thanks for the doughnuts."

"See you and your future tiny girlfriend tomorrow," Missy purred before stepping outside.

He waited her car drove off before getting on his feet and heading for the stairs, locking eyes with Clara who was on the top step, still clutching the bottle of wine, her clothes, and the blanket that was wrapped around her body.

"So when are you going to shag me?" she asked, a cheeky smile on her face.

He towered over her as he reached the final step. "Now?" he replied huskily, wrapping his arms around her.

"Though I'm curious what Missy meant when she meant by 'the Impossible Girl'," Clara added, and the Doctor froze.

"Ah, that."

"Yes, that," she giggled.

He cleared his throat. "It's just a nickname I gave you since you were impossible to avoid and talk to without arguing," he explained. "That was all before… you know," he added hastily.

Clara was amused. She fancied the nickname he gave her. "Sounds like I'm in some sort of fairy tale or sci-fi – Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl."

"You really are," he murmured, bringing her closer to him. "Impossible to resist."

"Cheesy," she commented, sticking out her tongue.

The Doctor gave her a kiss. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

"I'll get breakfast ready," he said, but not moving or releasing her from his embrace at all.

His inaction elicited another giggle. "I need to get dressed, you daft old man."

"Not that old," he grumbled, finally releasing her.

Clara beamed and then pecked him on the cheek as she went to the bedroom to get dressed.

"We should exercise caution when at university," the Doctor suggested, bringing the cup of fresh coffee to his lips.

"Yeah, it's quite obvious your sister suspects something," Clara replied, setting down her fork. "And I think Jack will catch on soon."

He gulped down the coffee. "If we keep our distances, everything should be fine."

She snorted. "Like what happened on Thursday when you tried to grab my hand in front of the lecture hall full of students?"

Clara sighed as she realised that the lecture from the previous session was still running. She couldn't help but wonder if the Doctor did it on purpose to mess with her.

"Come on," she said to her students, pushing the doors open and stepping inside, capturing the room's attention.

"We'll carry on with the proof for the First Law of Thermodynamics another time," John announced after locking eyes with her for a few seconds.

She could have sworn she saw him smirking.

Placing her notebook and small bag on the desk, she shot him a look. "Running over my lecture again?"

He merely shrugged, a playful look in his eyes as his right hand rested on the desk, close to where she had hers. "I must have been carried away," he answered, hand inching closer to hers. His fingertips brushed the side of her hand.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, pulling away. "You know we can't."

"I'm just 'trolling' as the kids call it."

She shut her eyes. "That was not trolling."

He frowned. "Oh…"

"Get with the times properly, grandpa," she said smugly. "I have so much to teach you."

"It wasn't like I was doing it in plain sight," he argued. He just wanted to show a bit of affection. Clearly, he did it wrong. "You had that bag blocking people's view of the desk."

"Anyway," Clara said, changing the subject. "Do you think I should bring Mr Darcy and introduce him to his new kittens?"

The Doctor pondered for a moment. "For as long as Idris is fine with it, and he doesn't attempt to harm the kittens, then yes, by all means, bring him here."

She beamed, finishing her breakfast.

Later in the morning, Clara returned to her house to retrieve Mr Darcy. Halfway through, she felt a pair of eyes staring at her.

Mrs Taylor was outside, watering her extensive collection of plants when she spotted Dr Clara Oswald, a spring in her step, all smiles and glowing, leaving Dr Smith's house as if nothing was out of the ordinary, hence why she was staring.

Clara smiled, well more like grimaced and waved awkwardly before running inside.

There was no doubt in her mind that Mrs Taylor would soon gossip with her friends and neighbours.

The mother of one scurried into the house, searching for her husband.

"William, William!" she called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, darling?" her spouse yelled from upstairs.

"You owe me fifty quid!"

There was nothing but silence for the longest moment.

"Well, fuck!"

Mrs Taylor merely smiled, pleased she won the bet.