His fingertips were slowly drifting over the bare skin of her left shoulder as she kissed his chest lightly, head rising to look into his eyes as they stared down at her. The house stood silent around them in sharp contrast to the gasps and moans of only moments before, and she grinned shyly at that fact as her cheeks went red. With a soft chuckle, he nodded and told her gently, "Should we dress, go out for dinner?"
"Where were you thinking?" Clara asked, inching up to rest her head against his shoulder while he turned his smile up to the ceiling.
Clara imagined sometimes that his mind worked like a rolodex, constantly shuffling through places and dates and sometimes pages flipped free, landing haphazardly in piles he could pick at randomly. Those would be his favorite places, ones not catalogued quite right that surprised him when he least expected to find their names scribbled on thoughts and every small uptick of his lips meant one of those. And now he simply had to decide where to take her.
"What about a moon?" She suggested playfully.
Body giving a few small jumps against the mattress as he turned onto his side with a smirk, he shook his head, then laid it on his pillow as she adjusted to hers. "How about a Space Cruise? Sailing through the universe on borrowed credits, listening to future opera and watching anti-grav acrobatics. Could do some parasailing over star dust or zip line between asteroids." He lifted her hand to intertwine their fingers, "Could procure us a Honeymoon package with a flick of the psychic paper."
Clara laughed softly and she inched forward, forcing her left knee between his thighs and watching his calm expression shift slightly in shock before he grinned and curled his right leg around her, pulling them closer together as she asked straightforward, "Doctor, is there a planet that could fix me?"
His smile disappeared as he considered the question and swallowed hard before answering, "Yes, there are several, but the 'successful' ones rely on cyborg parts – something I'm not comfortable with you trying, for obvious reasons – and there are a few that tamper with genetic modification." He shook his head, "Aside from being terribly painful and not altogether stable, it could have serious side effects or other hidden nefarious purposes."
His face shifted again, some terrible thought hidden away from her, and she sighed. "Is it the cynicism of having to save the universe from universally made atrocities that keeps you from seeing that any of these methods could help me and not try to take over my body or kill me?" Clara teased, but his frown remained.
For a moment he was silent and she realized without him having to tell her – he hadn't just looked into them; he'd thoroughly investigated them. He'd spent time on planets and in times just trying to find a way to make her feel whole and he'd come away with this scowl of reproach towards it all. With a huff, Clara looked to the quick pulse at his neck as he muttered, "I'm sorry. If there were something out there that I thought were safe I would – you know I would; I would have taken you already."
She shook her head and smiled up at him, "No, I imagined you would have. I just finally know where you were off too, all those times I had therapy at dad's – you were out there, weren't you, trying to find a way."
"I haven't exhausted all searches," he told her hopefully, hand coming up to bury in her hair. "I hadn't wanted to tell you until I knew definitively, but you could come with me now. We could research it all together; maybe you'd see something with your beautiful optimism that my cynicism has overlooked."
Laughing, Clara accused, "You go while I'm at work, don't you."
He shrugged sheepishly, "Yes," then he frowned, "Are you mad?"
"That you've been trying to find a way to erase this to surprise me with good news?" Clara questioned, landing the stump of her right leg against his left thigh and watching him grin, "I'm not mad, Doctor."
Grinning, he threw the sheets back, shooting up in bed and swooping his arms underneath her knees and behind her back and giving a hop, landing with his legs crossed and her in his lap and Clara ducked her forehead into his shoulder, laughing at his excitement. She lifted her head and found his gaze again, inching forward to kiss him lightly and then again as she wrapped her arms around his neck before she rested her head against his, releasing a small shaky breath because the moment had reminded her of another kiss.
One she couldn't recall just moments ago.
Clara exhaled a tearful laugh and when the Doctor pulled her face up, holding her cheeks in his palms to swipe his thumbs over the wet streaks and stare into her in confusion, she uttered, "I remember your proposal in that cave; I remember all of the planning and the Cybermen who almost ruined it. I remember being shot and you being so angry and I remember detonating that bomb to send them all back into that wormhole they'd come from," Clara inhaled and breathed, "Doctor, I remember our wedding."
He laughed with her, telling her quietly, "All the men in their Tardis blue bowties."
"All the girls in cranberry red dresses," she finished with a smile.
"The most confused wedding planner in the universe," he supplied.
Clara smirked and nodded, "Said it was an odd choice, matching such bold colors together."
"Angie told her to shove her opinion and make it happen," the Doctor reminded on a nod as Clara burst into laughter because she remembered the look on the girl's face as she'd stood sullenly at her side, staring at an older woman who stuttered before plucking her pen free from a planner to jot down notes.
"And the morning of, that wormhole appeared in the sky and we both knew…" She shook her head, remembering the phone call she'd made to the Tardis to question the swirling darkness above London.
He shrugged, "Well, with us, did you really think it'd have been a normal ceremony anyways?"
Smiling, Clara replied, "No, but I imagined they'd ruin our honeymoon – not try to sabotage the wedding."
"In fairness, it wasn't deliberate on their part – making a mess of our plans," the Doctor pointed, then he reminded, "And the chapel was still intact!" Before adding, "Well, most of it."
"Half the guests were people we'd just saved," Clara chuckled.
He grinned up at her, watching the way her eyes glazed over as she looked off to the side, some memory of the day now floating through her mind as he sighed, "You fought in your wedding dress, ended up torn and burnt, but you came out limping, holding your dad's arm for support. Walked straight down the aisle with all the poise and confidence no one else in your position could have held onto."
Clara focused back on him and she ran her fingers lightly through the flop of his hair, smiling when it dropped back down and she whispered, "Because the chapel didn't matter and my friends and family were alive and that dress," she chuckled, "That poor dress – I suppose it's up in my dad's attic," she waited for his nod and shy grin before finishing, "None of that mattered because I was marrying you."
He shifted, curling his hands just behind her waist, kneading into her flesh with his fingers and sending goose bumps over her skin. "I forgot you lost the leg that took the shot."
"Ah," she realized before wincing, "That really hurt."
"Every step towards that alter hurt you and you smiled anyways and as soon as we said our vows..." he began.
Clara huffed a laugh to finish, "You picked me up and you told me you'd carry me for the rest of my life if it could ease my burden just one bit..." Her head dropped slightly, "You meant it, when you said it at my dad's."
"Of course I meant it, Clara," he sighed.
She studied his face, looking over the softening of his eyes and the lifting of the corners of his lips the longer they watched one another and she sighed. "You idiot," she whispered.
The Doctor chuckled, head dropping slightly, but keeping his eyes trained on her to tell her, "Your idiot."
Arms wrapping around his neck as she dropped her head to his shoulder, Clara kissed the pale skin there as she repeated, "Definitely my idiot," and she closed her eyes as he massaged a hand over the muscles of her back, working his way down until he huffed lightly in amusement as his fingers spread over her hips. "Our honeymoon though," Clara lifted her head to laugh as he dropped his head back, lips parting as his eyes closed to release his own laughter and she watched him as he re-lived those nights through memories he was thrilled to share with her again.
They'd visited a planet that never saw daylight; a planet where they'd spent a week exploring a mountainside village, a mysterious cult of children – or, rather, ancient beings who appeared as children – lingering in shadows to lure wayward visitors into the depths of the forests to devour their souls. The Doctor had been deemed a coveted buffet and Clara could recall easily now how those cloaked small beings had burst into their suite just before a romantic bath and dragged him away in his pants.
"I had to chase you down in my nighty," Clara wheezed.
Nodding, the Doctor supplied, "It was, quite possibly, our most interestingly dressed rescue."
She breathed hotly against his shoulder before lifting up and telling him coyly, "And our grandest celebration afterwards."
His smirk widened as his hands began to move again, this time his right trailing over her thigh to rest his fingertips just above the trimmed crop of hair between her legs, "I take it, Mrs. Smith, that you'd like a repeat performance."
Clara wanted to laugh, but there was a devilish flare to his grin that sent her heart racing as she whispered back, "Which act, Mr. Smith – or shall we re-enact the night in its entirety?"
He shifted, letting her knees land softly onto the bed while he turned her waist away from him and dropped a set of kisses to her right shoulder, "Well," he began, kneeling just behind her and slipping his hands up to cup her breasts as he continued to peck at her skin with his lips, "There was that one," he bent over her, nudging at her from behind so that his swollen member slipped up against the small of her back slowly, "Particular," he gave her a light shove and she dropped onto the bed as he nudged her legs apart, "Position," he finished, dropping down on her to tease at her entrance before easing himself into her, pressing himself to her back as she moaned.
Tucking his chin over her shoulder, the Doctor gently began to glide against her, smiling when her backside curved up into him and he slipped one arm underneath her stomach, supporting her as his motions quickened. He breathed roughly into her ear, watching her eyes close and her brow knot as her mouth opened to gasp and then she smiled, turning and opening her dark eyes to see the look of pleasure on his features. Sinking deeply into her to elicit a quick inhale, the Doctor stopped his motions to kiss her and she moved up on her elbows and then lifted herself to her knees with a chuckle against his lips because he'd lost his breath.
Clara dropped her head as his left hand fell just beside hers against the sheets, his thumb and forefinger caressing her pinky and ring finger. The Doctor's lips found her neck again, and the arm that had wrapped itself around her belly searched out her sex to rub knowing circles into her. She cried out and he jerked slightly, then curled his body firmly over her, right hand dropping calmly against hers, his fingers intertwining with hers as she coughed a quick huff, her body shifting with his until he gasped a shuddered breath, his forehead dropping wetly against her skin and Clara grunted with each hard thrust he delivered as he murmured her name, spilling himself into her.
His mouth began a lazy exploration of her shoulder as he continued to urge her on and his right hand trailed up her arm, sending a tingle through her body. Just as his hand clasped over her breast, thumb rubbing over her nipple, she shouted out as her body convulsed around him. He tipped to his left side and the fall onto the bed offered her a wave of dizzying pleasure as he continued to stroke over her lovingly before hugging her to him. Clara leaned into the last few shifts of his pelvis, smiling when his left arm slipped underneath her head to offer as a pillow and she turned to look up at him, watching him sigh and then mirroring it.
Right hand slipping downward, he glanced over her body as his thumb grazed her delicate nub and he laughed when she offered a light note and then he reminded her quietly, "Dinner?"
Clara laughed, nuzzling herself into him, and told him quietly, "Faraswara."
He kissed at her neck and when she turned, he nudged her cheek with his nose on a nod. It was a lazy trip, as their trips there often were, and he surprised her with a tent she had to assemble while he sat in confusion with the instructions. The Doctor and Clara enjoyed the sunset and listened to the melody playing out around them and they made love until she lay curled up next to him, fast asleep as he tucked a set of sheets up over her shoulder with a kiss to her temple. Lying quietly beside her, he released a long sigh and he prepared himself because he knew odds were, her next remembrance – her last – would be coming soon.