The Doctor woke to the sound of the front door closing roughly and he frowned, rolling onto his back and feeling her warm body shift with a soft sigh as she turned over and nestled herself into his side. With a smile, he glanced down at her and stroked her cheek, earning him what he'd always thought to be the most adorable wiggle of her features, scrunching and relaxing before her nose gave one final odd little sniffle. He exhaled painfully because for a time he'd imagined that same motion on the face of a sleeping infant.

"Clara," he sighed, then he repeated her name again, bending forward and kissing her forehead, waiting for her to slowly blink her eyes open up at him.

For a moment she breathed softly against his shirt, simply staring up at him and he felt the urge to cry building within him because he could still hear her voice in his head asking with a laugh, "Do you think she'll sleep like a human, or like a Gallifreyan? Because you never sleep, Doctor, and I don't know if I could handle that schedule."

Somehow he always found himself thinking of their baby first thing in the morning. Knew it was because it was when they spoke about her the most, lying in bed, just after she'd woken. They were already spending more and more time on Earth and Clara had begun talking about daycares and buying a home with him and wondering who their daughter would take after and whether she'd have two hearts and his foolish ears. He loved to listen to her ramble on as she lay stretched on her side next to him, night shirt tugged up just underneath her breasts so that her hand sat over the small mound her stomach was becoming.

Her forehead came together tightly and she shifted up, asking him quickly, "What's wrong?"

Laughing, he shook his head and pulled her back down atop him, and said, "Nothing, Clara, nothing is wrong – everything is very right."

Her fingernails made circles over his chest, writing words she didn't yet understand, but were burned into her muscle memory, "I love you," and he took a long breath as she asked, "I've got nothing to do today, do you think maybe we could travel a bit?"

"Well," he began with a shrug, "We are supposed to get you walking, up and about, trying to get back into your normal routine of activities," he glanced down to catch her chuckling as she shifted her left leg over his thigh to nudge at him provocatively with her knee. "Not those sorts of activities, Clara," he laughed as she glanced up at him with an innocent smirk.

She inched up, leaning her chin atop his breast to ask, "Were we not sexually active before, Doctor?"

He watched her bite her lip, trying to contain a laugh as he momentarily fumbled with an answer before he narrowed his eyes at her to say, "Yes, Clara, we were."

And she responded with a smile to let him know she knew, even without the memory, just off his performance, and it burned his cheeks. With a small sigh, she turned away from him and pulled herself into a sitting position, tossing back the sheets to look down at herself. He could see the momentary sorrow in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped a bit at the sight of her leg, just before she shook it off, turning and reaching for the crutch at her bedside to make her way to the bathroom.

The Doctor launched himself out of bed and he trudged to the other bedroom to rummage for clothes. He grinned at the assortment of dress shirts and waistcoats he was starting to amass in the closet and he turned when he heard the shower start up in the hall. "Invite myself for a shower, or use her father's," he questioned quietly, debating, "You've already…" he trailed, jaw working slightly from side to side before he walked out and over to the bathroom door to knock lightly. "Clara?"

"Sorry," she called, "Did you need to use the toilet?"

He turned the knob and entered slowly, smiling when he saw her staring out at him from where she sat on a small chair inside of the tub. "No, I just," he began, turning away momentarily, free hand balling into a fist as he considered the question before he simply asked, "I thought we might share a bath."

Clara laughed, gesturing down and telling him plainly, "There's not a whole lot of space."

"I don't take up a lot of space," he argued, stepping inside the room and shifting awkwardly as he became suddenly aware of her nakedness. It seemed like it'd been forever since he'd seen her so unabashedly exposed and he swallowed roughly as he finished, "Standing upright."

She shrugged, "Suppose an extra set of hands would help."

For a moment he eyed her because she was smirking to herself as she let the curtain drop back. The Doctor stripped himself quickly and when he pulled the curtain fully open, Clara was dropping soap onto a red loofah, beginning to wash herself as he moved slowly into the tub and reached for a wash cloth. Clara laughed as he picked up the showerhead and set it back in its holder up top to step under the current, his whole body relaxing as the hot water soaked him and she looked the Doctor over as he slowly turned back to her, hands coming up to set the cloth at his shoulder as he rubbed his face.

She continued to lazily wash herself, eyes dropping along his neck and chest and then his stomach and finally his flaccid penis, biting her lip against the urge to tease him until he took a step forward and touched her temple, shocking her out of a daydream that stained her skin red as she met his amused look. Knowing what she was thinking. The notion of him having the upper hand in their scenario frustrated her and she turned away with a soft sigh as he took the soap and dropped a glob onto the cloth, immediately working to lather his shoulders and chest and Clara turned her attention back to herself as she listened to him hum.

"We should have gone into the Tardis," he called back, "Much larger bathing space and I can have her adjust for your leg, a dozen seats if you want," he turned and his hair sent a splash of water down at her that made her lift her hands and laugh, "I could have her create a flexible stand with a socket for your leg, so you could… stand."

Clara chuckled and wiped at her eyes with her arm and replied, "It's alright, Doctor, I don't mind the sitting."

"Oh," he shrugged, rinsing himself off as Clara continued to wash and when she finally moved to run the loofah over her legs, she sighed and found him bending in front of her, his hands stopping hers to take the red item from her with a smile, "Allow me," he told her and the words sent gooseflesh rising over her body as she nodded.

She'd been bathed by a nurse at the hospital several times, much to her frustration, and while the woman there had been gentle and caring, the Doctor's touch was something entirely different. He stroked over her thighs with the loofah first and then his fingers, as if working the soap into her skin until they were both white with foam and then he delicately cleaned her stump, holding her leg carefully as she gripped the rails on either side of the chair, trying to control her breathing because the look of concentration on his face, coupled with the way his fingers continually massaged at her, were warming her more than the steam from the water.

He smiled as he moved to her other leg, eyes darting up to see the flushed look on her face and she realized, he was turning her on on purpose and so she offered a small grin of her own, just enough to freeze his movements and, she could see, begin to affect him the same. The Doctor turned his eyes to her calf in his hand, scrubbing in gentle circles before winding his fingers over it, down to her foot. A foot she lifted to nudge his chin playfully and they both laughed.

Clara imagined if she were truly twenty one, a moment like this would have been awkward – scandalous even – but it felt normal and the thought furrowed her brow as he shifted back up and plucked the showerhead into his hand, slowly rinsing the suds off her body and finally rinsing her hair before searching for shampoo, but before he could pull it down, she took hold of his member, massaging him between her palms as he jerked and dropped the showerhead with a quick, "Clara."

Wordlessly, she shifted forward and swallowed him whole, slowly releasing him back to the cooler air inside the shower, and she felt his hands hesitate at either side of her head, wanting to grab hold of her, but unable to control their small flails to do so. He huffed out a breath when he finally sat fully back against her fingers and Clara imagined she should let him breathe; should let him counter her actions, but she dove forward again instead as his hands clamped down on her shoulders.

His hips remained still, rigidly so as her hands drifted to massage at his sides before cupping just underneath his buttocks to hold him. And Clara hungrily worked to build his erection, easing her mouth over him gently and circling his head with her tongue until he began shifting into her. Her right hand came around to massage him carefully as she took him in deep enough to make him croak above her and when she shifted back he whispered her name softly just before she moved onto him again.

Clara groaning against his own fingers now kneading at her upper back, thumbs pressing trails of circles and then slipping back up until he jerked and she took him in, tasting the salty fruits of her labor for a fraction of a second before he slipped away, breathing roughly as he brought himself to his knees and stroked at himself, one hand still settled lightly atop her shoulder.

Clara watched him trying to calm his breathing, watched his movements slow before he finally looked up at her darkly and smiled, offering, "That," with a nod of his head, "Was not fair."

She shrugged and leaned forward to kiss him and he wrapped his arms around her and when his lips travelled to her neck, she uttered absently, "I miss you."

The Doctor dropped his hands to the railing on either side of her as he inched back and watched her sniffle lightly and he understood, without her saying a word, that it was another of those feelings she couldn't explain. She missed him because they'd been physically apart for two months and she craved him now that they were finally together. He smiled with her as he leaned forward and closed his mouth over her collar, sucking as she gasped before kissing his way down to her breasts, then to her stomach, nuzzling at her with his chin before he moved his hands around her, dragging her forward on the chair to bend himself to run his tongue over her quick enough to make her jump.

He chuckled and heard her do the same as her hands rounded his head and her knees spread and he offered her one final rise of his eyebrow with a devious grin before he nudged at her with his nose and then kissed at her. Clara felt his hands coming up behind her to cradle her, knowing instinctively that what he was doing would cause her to curl herself into him, urging him to explore her and she shouted out when his tongue lapped strongly over her just before his mouth closed, lips giving her a gentle tug that sent a shock through her.

Nestling into her, he breathed hotly over her as she shuddered in his hold and then he slowly slid his tongue just inside of her and gave her a light flick before withdrawing. She released a hard breath when he did it a second time and as he continually teased at her, he curled his left arm securely around her before bringing his right hand down to dab the edge of his finger into her, diverting his mouth to her nub as his finger began an easy motion within her.

Her left foot pressed into the tub beside his shoulders and Clara trusted he wouldn't drop her as she relaxed into his grip, gasping delightedly when he added a second finger. The Doctor knowingly gave his hand a twist, touching at a sensitive spot and when Clara began to pant, she heard him laugh, muffled against her. He searched until she shouted out and then he concentrated his effort there, digits curling into her several times before he withdrew and then dove in anew, his tongue continuing its assault on her until he straightened, sacrificing her sweet flavor to leverage her body into a better hold as he worked a quickening rhythm into her, lips finding her right breast to latch onto, tongue swirling over her hardened nipple before he shifted to her left with a moan she mirrored.

Clara released a squeak, arching back slightly as each stroke brought her closer and closer until she took hold of his upper arm and let loose a series of whimpers that made him shudder alongside her. He slowed his hand, feeling her throbbing around his fingers, and then he rounded her with both arms and closed his mouth over her, licking meticulously as she offered small twitches in response to accompany the gasps of moans he was eliciting.

When she finally began to straighten, hands finding his shoulders, he smiled and rested his chin against her right thigh, palm settling itself against her stump to ask, "Ready to see stars, Clara?"

With a loud laugh and a wet smack against his skin, she bent forward and met his forehead halfway, replying quietly, "Always."