A/N - I threw in a lot of high school clichés, because why not.

As usual, Clara began to think about the Doctor. The coach trip had started off boring enough, the history teacher sitting next to her and asking about her personal life, while his eye line never wavered from her chest and she started to feel uncomfortable. She wondered how people like that even got their jobs, yet from a hypocritical point of view, she was just as bad. She had indulged herself in the Doctor's charms in school hours and she had been very grateful and lucky that it never really got out.

Once at the activity place, her mind eased a little. All she had to do was supervise and pay enough attention. With relief, the day flew by and she had to admit that it had turned out better than she had perceived. She'd even had fun and encouraged students to embrace it and run amok (within restriction). And, without even having to try, she found herself thinking of the Doctor while in bed, a book in her hands. She recalled what he had said about thinking of him kissing her, biting her and making her moan. In truth she knew he had said it as punishment, the idea and imagery of him doing things to her playing in her mind on repeat for the sole purpose of making her inappropriately aroused. She desperately wanted him there with her, doing the things she was imagining him doing, the things he had asked her to think about in the first place; trying to shake off the shivers running up and down her body she gave herself something to do and made some hot chocolate to ease her mind. She could hear the whispering and quiet shouts of students in the hallways, and the people in the dorm room situated right next to hers. As adolescents that were currently indulging on sugar rushes, she knew she would probably get no sleep. Her worst fear was someone waking her up in the middle of the night, - as she was the only teacher in that corridor - and trying to deal with pathetic problems and worthless dares. She herself had prepared a little midnight feast as well; and with the appreciated works of Jane Austen in her hands she blocked out the rest of the world and began a binge on chocolate. A few hours later and Clara was fast asleep, the book still in her hands, chocolate wrappers scattered everywhere, a packet of wine gums half open and a half eaten chocolate bar lying on the counter. Hopefully the day would fly past and she would get to see the Doctor again soon.

She awakened with the sound of crashing in her ears, sitting straight up and panicking. What the hell had that been? Racing out of bed, not even caring about her appearance at that moment, she found some students outside her door, observing the girl who had fallen out of her bed from on high.

'What's happened here?' She asked them, her eyes narrowing and going straight into teacher mode.

'We were all out here when we heard her fall, miss.'

Clara ran over to the girl, helping her up. Blood ran down her head but she seemed otherwise unscathed.

'Are you alright, Cathy?' She asked the girl, still shaken up and looking rather embarrassed at the crowd she had attracted. She knew Cathy, a bright young girl in her year 9 English class, and also very shy.

'I'm fine, Miss Oswald. My head hurts a lot though.'

'Okay, I'll take you downstairs, get you cleared up.' She helped her up and past everyone in their way, still watching.

She spotted a cluster of girls giggling as they walked past, and Clara turned her attention to them immediately.

'Hey, stop laughing. You wouldn't like it if it happened to you, would you?' She told them, a fierce blaze in her eyes that soon silenced them.

'Unless, did you have anything to do with it?' She said, staring each of them down.

'No, course not, miss.'

'Well, I did notice that the bar was taken down, leaving poor Cathy exposed and unprotected, which then of course lead to her fall. It couldn't have been taken off on its own and you were the few people I heard first outside her door. So if it was you, I would advise you apologise to Cathy by the end of the day, or consequences. Same goes for anyone else,' she said, looking round at the still lingering students, 'back to you're rooms.'

As the corridor soon deserted, she took the girl down to the supplies cupboard, where she sat with her and cleaned her wound.

'Do you have any idea who did it?' She asked her.

'I'm not really sure. It might have been the girls you talked to, but then again it could've been anyone.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Not many people like me.'

Clara raised her eyebrows, 'really? You're a very kind and very intelligent girl. Surely you don't get picked on, do you?'

She said nothing in reply. Clara felt immensely sorry for the girl, and made a note to watch out for her back at school.

'It's fine, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to, I promise. I could just have a quiet word with whoever's bothering you and make sure they don't do it again. It's not nice to be bullied.'

'I'm not...bullied as such,' she replied, and Clara noticed how she fidgeted with her fingers in exactly the same way she did, 'people just like to have a laugh. I guess I'm kind of in the middle of it all, the one being laughed at. I'm not really bothered by it, though, they'll soon get bored of me.'

'That's a good attitude to have. Don't let anyone get in the way of you're happiness or you're learning. And if it does get too much, just come speak to me and I'll sort it out for you. I know what it's like.'

This time it was Cathy who raised her eyebrows.

'Do you?'

Clara nodded, smiling.

'I'll let you in on a little secret. I was bullied right up until I was sixteen.'

'Really? Why did they bully you? You don't have anything wrong with you. You're funny and you're kind and you know a lot about Jane Austen.'

She laughed at her comment. If only she knew.

'Well, neither does anyone else have anything wrong with them. But back when I went to school, people sometimes made a big deal out of height. And as I'm only five foot one now, you could imagine how short I was then.'

Telling all this to Cathy made Clara feel, almost, safe in a way. Like after all those years, she could actually confide in someone. Even the Doctor didn't know about it, as she liked to maintain her pride and would only provoke jokes.

'People also liked to make fun of the fact that I hated getting lost. It was my worst fear growing up.'

'Why?'

'I got lost in Blackpool once, and I couldn't find my mum for hours. I got really scared, but she finally found me. That memory has never really left me. It's always been there, one of my earliest.'

'Are you still afraid?'

'No,' she shook her head, 'until I met the Doctor I was still always scared of getting lost.'

'The Doctor?'

Her mind had slipped, her thoughts returning back to him, and for a moment he forgot where she was until she heard Cathy's voice.

'Oh, yes, the Doctor. Bravest man I ever knew.'

'Is he a friend?'

'Uhm...yes.'

Talking about the Doctor in front of Cathy made her slightly nervous and embarrassed, although of course she had no idea why. Clara decided to change the subject.

'What do you fear?'

It took her a while to deliberate. Finally, she answered.

'Heights.'

'Yeah, heights are a common fear. I love them though, I always feel like I'm flying. I've actually flown a plane before.'

'Wow, that's so cool! How did you do that?'

'It was kind of an accident really. I guess it just sort of happened.'

'Did the Doctor teach you?'

Clara fidgeted once again at her mention of the Doctor. She would always accidentally bring him up in conversation, and it would always spark interest to whoever she was talking to. She couldn't help mentioning him really, as he was such an important person in her life.

'No, he was just as confused as I was.' She smiled at the memory. It felt so long ago.

'You can ride a motorbike, you can ride a plane...is there anything you can't ride?'

'I can ride the Doctor.' She thought to herself, and she quickly admonished her internal thoughts and closed her mind of all naughty thoughts about him.

'I don't know.'

A silence ensued, and Clara finally cleaned up her head, only a scar left.

'There you go, all better. And remember, you can always talk to me. Trust me, I really don't judge.' She smiled.

'Thanks, miss. I will.'

Cathy left, and Clara cleared everything away. She looked outside at the rising sun. It would be breakfast soon. Trailing back up to her room she turned on the shower, letting herself relax and think about the day ahead of her. Only a few more hours. Soon enough she heard the shuffling footsteps of people making their way down to the dining hall, and dried her hair as fast as she could. Putting on clothes and making her way down, she noticed that everyone was talking about the incident. It didn't take much for gossip to spread around school. Glancing over at Cathy, she saw she was with her friends and was mostly ignoring everyone. Clara smiled, proud of her. She took her seat amongst the teachers and made small talk with her colleagues. She noticed the sixth form boys continuously turning round to glance at her, discussing and laughing and fighting. Wait, where they really fighting over her? Stifling a laugh, she could see more clearly how they talked and the collection of inappropriate gestures that only added to the oddness of it all. What was more, the teachers around her could sense it too and Clara could only imagine how the Doctor would react if she told him he had competition. She sniggered to herself, the word 'competition' making her laugh. Of course there was no 'competition', as immature boys liked to call it. The Doctor was her man, and nothing would ever change that.

Finishing breakfast and beginning the day with the activities, gossip soon had turned to how the sixth form boys had crushes on Miss Oswald and that they were discussing how hot she looked. Admittedly, she was flattered but nonetheless shocked and creeped out. What was worse was that they were only a few years younger than her. Ignoring everyone's stares and gossip about her she made an effort to actually enjoy herself today. Perhaps if she enjoyed it enough, it would all go by quicker. Relievedly, she found herself sitting down for lunch not many hours later and was glad that the conversations had turned to something else. That was one of the best things about Coal Hill, or any high school in general; news came and went as fast as it travelled.

Finally, it came. The teachers gathered everyone back into the dining hall after all the activities had been done. Clara had to admit that today had been better, since there was a huge zip wire spanning across a length of trees, rock climbing, and crate stacking, which all involved fantastically high heights. The adrenaline rush she got when she was up high was one that could never be replaced, which lived in her very system. It reminded her of watching the earth, the planets, the galaxies with the Doctor, leaning against the TARDIS in her regular position.

Blanking out the teacher's speech about the return coach trip and the stay, she started to count the number of minutes ticking by. She was so glad she had gotten the Doctor to pick her up, and that she didn't have to endure another coach trip. The kids started to rush out of the building to the coach, trying to get the best seats at the back. She scanned the car park, looking for the Doctor. And there he was. Her mouth split into a huge smile as he climbed off the motorbike and removed his helmet to reveal his gorgeous hair in such a way her heart hammered against her chest. It was so Top Gun sexy, she had to bite her lip and keep herself from saying something rude amongst children. Walking toward him, not caring about the students watching her, she threw her arms around him in an embrace.

'Have you been good Maverick?' She asked him, looking up into his sonic shades.

'No, I've missed you, Ice Man.' He replied, and she laughed. Hugging him again he leaned down to kiss her. Returning his kiss eagerly, she could feel his hand follow down her body until she felt him squeeze her ass. Trying not to think of the students behind them gawping, she took her helmet from him.

'I'm driving in front.' She told him, and he shrugged in reply. Putting on her jacket and climbing over her blessed motorbike, she took the handlebars and revved up the engine. The Doctor's arms drew around her waist and she began to circle around the car park, driving past the students and onto the road, where she was finally where she wanted to be. On the road, the wind in her hair, driving her motorbike with the Doctor wrapped up against her.

She opened the door to her flat, quickly discarding her leather jacket. The Doctor stepped in too doing the same thing, and threw himself at her. Clara's arms reached up to his neck and he began to kiss her, as they almost spun round her flat. She ended up leant on the door hinge, the Doctor surrounding her, leaning her further back on the post while she kissed him with utmost enthusiasm, hands clenching the beginning of his hair.

'Are you going to take me to bed, then? You did promise.' She said between kisses, her voice like silk.

'Yes, Miss Oswald.' He replied, grabbing her round the waist and carrying her like he was rescuing her from a burning building. Laying her down in her bed he crawled under with her, and her arm wrapped round his shoulder while the other grasped his hip, urging him onward. It seemed like a bad thing, but she had been anticipating this all day, and nothing she had done that day or hardly any day would compare to this. It was pathetic, almost, how a night without each other was considered such a bad thing. In all honesty, Clara was thinking about taking a day or two to see her family. But it was an electric, magnetic, forceful relationship in that they were both magnets, inseparable together. Pull them apart and they would still find each other and reconnect, because that was just the way it was. And neither of them could help it. Pulling his leg over hers she took off her shirt, throwing it to the ground. The Doctor moved in closer, taking all of her up in his arms and whipping off his own shirt. She undid his belt buckle herself and let her hand still massage his hip until his trousers were disposed off. She laughed at his craft of taking off her bra, unclasping it from the back with one hand and really showing off, like he always does. His smile illuminated the room, his features twisting up into a smirk of smugness. The Doctor's hands travelled downwards to where he pulled her knickers off her and she in return actively removed his own pants. As the Doctor moved atop her, and her legs wrapped round his sides, she knew this was the place of all places she wanted to be.

She traced patterns with her fingers, observing his tight muscle yet comparatively thin chest. The Doctor did nothing but stare down at her, a hand placed between her thigh and her leg, tenderly stroking her skin and smiling down at her with undivided attention and concentration. Clara loved the place she was in; one of the things she enjoyed the most. The after-sex snuggling and flirtatious, seductive conversation with the night so quiet and peaceful she was in her own world with the Doctor.

'Doctor, my neck and my back...I've been hurting all day, doing all that activity and climbing stuff, really aching. Could you just massage me there?' She asked, pointing over her shoulder.

'Are you sure it was the activities?' He smirked in his low, Scottish rumble.

'Yes, you cheeky bastard!' She accused him, play slapping him on the chest as he began to laugh.

'You haven't been sleeping with any other men, have you?' He continued, still laughing at her face.

'How do you know I haven't?' She teased him, raising an eyebrow.

'Because I'm hoping you love me enough never to do that.' He said seriously.

She looked up at him, truthfully.

'Of course not, I love you.' Giving him a small kiss she smiled and pointed at her back.

'Now, right there, please.'

She shuffled in between the Doctor's legs, and he gladly began to rub her skin. She leaned back on his chest as he massaged all along her shoulder blades, right up to her neck and all the way down to her lower back, soothing her immensely while she played with his cotton plaid pyjama trousers. He did it so carefully; like he might break her skin. Yet it felt purely sensational, his hands grooving into her back with precision and concentration. She relaxed and leant even further into him so his hands could no longer massage her.

'That was brilliant, thank you.'

'Anything for you.' He said quietly, letting her slip down and rest her head at the crook of his neck. Sliding himself down and onto the pillow she played with his fingers, staring at the night sky in a trance.

'There's so much out there. It makes me feel so privileged to have seen the things I've seen...it's amazing.'

The Doctor didn't reply, but she knew he agreed with her.

'You should get some sleep.' He said, his arms wrapped round her and eyes looking down at her best he could from his chest.

'Mm...only if you do.'

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled softly. 'Of course.'

Encircling her tighter and rolling onto his side, the Doctor turned off the light and held her.

Clara could feel his hearts beating, feel the rhythm and pace they were set to. It soothed her soul right down to the core and her dreamy smile was never replaced. As his hands wrapped around hers and she held them to her stomach, she could feel the fusion of blood running through their veins. Their hearts beat as one and she felt tied to him, as she should. No one, not ever, could match up to her Doctor.