They made their way back to the Tardis casually, hand in hand, as a blazing purple sun set behind them on a horizon of ragged cerulean mountains glowing with newly fallen snow. The Doctor had made good on his word to Dave – he made sure before heading out that the Tardis scanned the landscape; that he had all the details of the planets they were landing on; that his Sonic was prepared and ready for quick surveys – everything they could control about their trips was. Settling his palms to the console, he turned to smile as Clara closed the Tardis doors and then shifted to grin up at him.

"One of these days," she sighed, "You're going to land on a planet that doesn't think you're a god."

He smirked, "But it does wonders for my confidence."

"As though your confidence were capable of waning."

Raising a finger and swinging a lever with his other hand, he pursed his lips and argued, "I'll have you know my confidence levels were quite low this morning."

She giggled because she knew it was over the fact that she'd easily dominated him in the bedroom that night and he couldn't reconcile her newfound strength against the fact that he was the man – shouldn't he pin her? Clara worked her way onto the console platform and she watched him smirk down deviously at the controls as he maneuvered them, lifting them into the vortex. Once safely floating, he turned and leaned his hip into the metal at his side and he raised a hand to her, one she took casually, and she laughed as he pulled her closer, straightening and taking her other hand to lift to his shoulder before he planted his at her waist.

The Doctor began to move with her, a slow dance as they grinned at one another happily and Clara glanced up and told him quietly, "Doctor, there's no music."

"Isn't there?" He questioned, frowning and wrinkling his nose as he followed her gaze, "I do believe I hear a gentle beat from our hearts, a soft melody from our breath…"

She laughed, blushing to tell him, "You and your romantic notions of the mundane."

"Is the mundane not romantic?" He posited, dropping his eyes to meet hers with a satisfied grin, "You and me – the Doctor and Clara – having a quiet dance in the Tardis as we drift through space." With a sigh he added, "Would you rather be anywhere else, Clara? Because I can think of no other place I'd rather be."

He dipped his head to kiss her and Clara inhaled sharply at the tingle it had sent through her body and she knew he was right. If they could dance away their lives in that spot, she'd chose no other life. His hand snaked around her and the Tardis lights dimmed as she laughed into his kiss and asked quietly, "You're not going to wrestle the control away from me just because we're in your Tardis."

Smirking as he slipped back, he slowly arched a delicate eyebrow and nodded his head towards the corridors as a challenge, telling her quietly, "Either way, would be a fun match."

Clara shook her head and gave his shoulder a small squeeze, "I have laundry to get done and a job to rest up for."

"Time machine," he reminded on a whine.

There was a playful twinkle in his eye as their movements came to a stop and Clara's hand roamed over his arm and then off it as she began to walk towards the corridors, making her way towards their bedroom. He was chuckling behind her and she could feel her heartbeat skip as she glanced back to see the calm expression on his face just before they moved through the door and dropped back with a shared laugh onto the bed. He looped an arm around her back and pulled her further onto the bed with him, knees dropping down to pin at either side of her thighs and Clara shook her head at him.

"Unfair advantage, I would say," she teased.

"How is this unfair," he coughed, gesturing down at her hands as they lay gently around his hips.

Clara edged up, fingers drifting along the rim of his trousers as she kissed him, undoing the buttons and working the zipper down slowly over him and she smiled into his lips, whispering, "You know, in some ways you're no different from a human man."

"That I desire you so readily, Clara?" He breathed against her, kissing his way to her neck as his knuckles pressed into the bed, lowering her back down and grinning when he felt her undoing the buttons of her blouse to tug it apart so he could shift down to kiss at the flesh of her breasts as he rubbed himself over her sex, eliciting a set of exasperated moans.

He lifted her up to sit at the edge of the bed as he stripped himself slowly, watching her carefully do the same, occasionally smirking up at one another before he worked off her prosthetic and they collapsed back into the bed, a mess of tangled warm limbs. The Doctor turned, stretching out at her side and placed one hand underneath her right knee to shift it aside as he dropped his mouth to her, kissing her knowingly as she shouted out just next to his stomach. She turned into him, lifting her left leg to hook over his neck, knee rubbing at his shoulder and he smiled into her, tongue lazily lapping at her until he felt her mouth close over him, stealing his breath.

The Doctor exhaled, glancing down at her, left hand fanning out at his abdomen, lips slipping over his length and his eyes closed when her tongue circled him just before she swallowed him again. He rested his forehead to her thigh, feeling the sweat building on their skin and then he slid a hand along her stomach, fingers coming down to part her folds so he could devour her again – this time without any of the daintiness he'd intended, but with a hunger to match hers.

She whined, left hand taking hold of him to stoke at him as she dropped her cheek to the sheets while he tasted at her avidly, pointedly, and when the fingers of his right hand curled around her backside to dip into her, she called his name and laughed when he raised his head. Clara rolled her left leg away and she sighed as he smiled back at her devilishly, thumb still drifting over her in feather light passes that sent jolts through her.

"Ok," she whispered, lifting up and crawling to lie out in front of him, inching herself closer to him so she could wrap her right thigh over his hip as he grinned down at her and reached to guide himself into her with a small sigh as his eyes fluttered. "We both win this round; how about that?"

He laughed, left arm circling her to hold her as he began to thrust into her, taking pleasure in the way her breathing quickened and her mouth opened slightly so she could release small breaths against his chin. The Doctor kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips, slowing his movements enough for her to meet his gaze and he told her quietly, "Isn't that always the case?"

Clara smiled, bucking her hips lightly into him and gasping happily when he began to meet the sway of her body into his with his own curved pumps and she laid her cheek to his chest, hand holding to his side as they continued their dance until the stars in the sky sparkled behind closed eyelids and they clung to one another. She felt as though she might never let him go, listening to his heartbeats drumming ecstatically against her ear and palm and she kissed at his skin, tasting the saltiness of his sweat before shifting to look up at him.

"I still have laundry," she breathed.

"Still a time machine," he responded lightly, fingers combing through her hair as he edged up onto his elbow to smile down at her.

Clara laughed when he shifted forward, pinning her to the bed and burring himself deeply inside of her as he kissed her, and when he finally raised his head again, it was to look her over lovingly as she told him simply, "Laundry."

His forehead dropped to hers and then he crawled back slowly, kissing his way over her breasts and her stomach and finally her sex as she chuckled, eyes closing against the new pulses of pleasure he was stirring with the gentle swirls of his tongue against her delicate core. Enough that she forgot about the clothes that needed to be washed and she settled her legs onto his shoulders, raising her hands to grip the sheets above her head as she curled her body into each quick dart of his tongue around her, working to set her ablaze again.

Fingers slipping over her sides, he took each of her breasts in his palms, massaging them in tandem with the motions of his mouth. The Doctor closed his lips slowly over her and then nudged her with his chin, listening to her moan out and he chuckled, hearing her do the same, knowing in the back of her mind she wanted to be frustrated with him for distracting her, but knowing it was all forgotten as she tensed, legs rising so her left foot curled just behind his head and her stump rested at his shoulder.

"Doctor!" She hissed as her face contorted, and then it eased, mouth dropping open as her eyebrows rose and he hummed into her as she gave into her release, squeaking slightly and then huffing as he continued on until her palms rested atop the backs of his hands at her chest and her legs laid calmly on his back again. "You win," she allowed. "This time," she laughed, "You win."

He lifted his head and his hands slid off her as he crawled back over her to settle himself atop her lightly and he sighed, "So, you were saying something about laundry."

Clara laughed and gave him a small shove, rolling away when he flipped onto his back beside her. He watched as she inched her way towards the edge of the bed on her stomach to reach for her knickers and her prosthetic and he watched her pull both on before she made her way to him to kiss him lightly. The Doctor remained, stretched out in bed a moment as she stood, securing her leg before she began to scoop up her bra, blouse, and shorts.

"You should get us back home, Doctor," she told him as she worked the buttons over her chest and he caught the smile she offered him as he laid, one hand settled atop the start of a new erection, just before she teased, "I promise to reciprocate once I've got the first load in."

He coughed a laugh, head falling back slightly before he nodded and moved to the edge of the bed to find his own trousers, pulling them on carefully and buttoning his own shirt as he pushed his feet into his boots, bending to lace them while Clara worked her shorts over her legs. The Doctor made his way towards the console, hands pushing the edges of his shirt into his trouser and his hand laid flat against the collar at his throat, frowning because he'd left his bowtie somewhere on that floor and he smirked as he sent the Tardis back into the vortex.

They landed just inside of one of the bedrooms – the bedroom Clara designated as his 'man cave', a concept he was quite satisfied with once she'd explained it – and he turned when he heard her slow steps coming through the entranceway from the corridors. He looked to the strip of purple fabric she was winding and unwinding haphazardly around her fingers and then up at the smile plastered on her reddened face and he shifted, ready to meet her halfway when her lips began to drop and she lost her color in the blink of an eye.

Clara's steps faltered and her breathing quickened and for a moment he frowned in confusion. He turned for a swift examination of the console room, but nothing was amiss and when he turned back, he felt the blood draining from his extremities, replaced with a cold splash of terror as she lifted the bowtie, now hanging limply from her tightened grip, against her stomach and she uttered quietly, "No," and the Doctor understood.

She remembered.