Sorry I didn't update, had a long school trip and a gig to go to and it mostly tired me out. Hope you like the next one. Oh and a big thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited or followed this story so far, you guys are amazing. :)

Chapter 17

'I've come to practice.' She announced, stepping up to the stage.

John was red in the face, trying to control his anger as best he could.

'Why are you here?' He spat, fists clenching. Clara took his hand fully, trying to console him best she could.

'Don't you ever listen? To practice, dear.'

'Don't you dare call me any of those pet names you used to, or I swear you won't make it to the show.'

'Ooh, we are feisty, aren't we? Still holding a grudge?'

He stepped forward threateningly, which Missy laughed at. It appeared she finally noticed Clara by his side, and have her a toothy grin. She also seemed to have noticed their clasped hands.

'You've moved on, have you? Does this mean we can start anew?'

'If you mean friendship or anything else more, you're quite mistaken.'

His fingers trembled, jaw set hard facing her sneering one.

'Fine by me. As long as you're no longer a sore loser, it's all good.'

'You're not going to win, hell, you're not even eligible to compete.' He replied.

'I wouldn't be so sure. I remember when you used to concentrate so hard on winning that you used to physically beat yourself up and shut yourself out. I couldn't even go near you.'

Clara's eyes widened. Despite her immediate dislike she could tell she wasn't lying.

'That was before.'

'That was why our relationship didn't work,' she emphasised, 'I doubt you've gotten much better.'

'Our relationship didn't work because you killed my brother!' He shouted, the veins on his neck straining and his eyes aflame with irrefutable anger.

'He was dying anyway!' She retaliated, and John lunged at her. Clara had to hold him back with all her strength to stop him from attacking her. She could see the angry tears in his eyes for the very first time, knew he was hurt inside.

'You, stay away from me.' He rasped.

'You're afraid. You're still afraid of losing.'

'I'm not afraid of losing. I'm afraid of losing to you.'

'Well, that will be interesting. You know our very first tour together? How amazing that was, how skilled all the dancers were? That is my company now, stronger than ever. I hope for your sake, you are prepared.'

'I don't need to prepare. I have one thing you don't. I have Clara Oswald. And trust me, if I can't win this thing, she will. She is better than you ever were or will be.' He said firmly.

Clara looked up at him in amazement, his statement making her heart jump with admiration. Everything he had said had only made her appreciate him even more. Missy however looked skeptical with a mocking sneer.

'We'll see.' With crimson in her eyes she stalked off back stage, leaving them there alone.

John stared ashamedly at the ground, still mad from the confrontation.

She took hold of his arms, sliding her hands down his wrists until she reached his palms.

'Look at me,' She told him, and slowly his chin raised so he was looking dully in her eyes, 'don't let her affect you. Don't. If you are hell bent on winning, that's just what we'll do.'

Her determination sparked something in his eyes, and he brought his lips to kiss her head tenderly.

'I just,' he said, trying to pick out his words carefully, 'I just need to get out of here. We should be practicing and focusing and bloody dancing, but I just need to go home. I can't bear to see her face any longer.'

She nodded. 'That's sensible. I was going to suggest the same thing.'

'It pains me however,' he sighed, 'all the things we should be doing are beyond me for the moment.'

'You can't help that. I would be the same if I was in the same state.'

They stepped down from the stage, walking out the doors, to which even Donna didn't dare stop. She looked on sympathetically as they exited the grand building and back into street life.

'I'n coming with you. I don't care what you say because I'm not taking no for an answer.'

She guessed he didn't have any more strength to argue against her so for the first time he lead her along the path toward his bookshop.

John unlocked the door and shrugged off his coat, throwing it on the counter. There were endless bookshelves as promised, some she recognised instantly as her favourites.

'You have a good collection.'

'Yeah. It helps to raise a little more money. Especially as I'm the only bookshop there is in this part of town.'

She wondered round, smiling at the array of classics and fictions and non fictions that kept stock upon the well kept shelves.

'Well, it's lovely.'

'Glad you think so.'

She walked up to him, a smile on her face, John smiling in return.

'So, what should-'

He didn't finish his sentence as Clara's burning desire overwhelmed her and she kissed him forcefully, fervently, John startled at first but soon melting into the kiss and reciprocating in his own way. His hand came to hold her head, threading through her shiny hair and pulling her closer in a split decision.

'I'm so glad you never hesitate.' She said, smiling against his mouth. His own mumbled answer came as he pushed her against the first solid thing in their path.

'I'd never hold back from someone like you.'

Some books fell from the force and the weight of their two bodies together, yet they hardly cared as they carried on in the same manner. It was like an explosion, all at once, his hands everywhere, leaving his mark. He pinned her so fast and hard she could feel him rubbing against her own body. Clara felt drunk with his kiss, his lips alcohol that made her dizzy all at once.

He lifted her up, walking backward gracefully while she was wrapped up in his arms. It felt just as if they were doing another lift, their elegance never wavering, yet her mind was a lot more uncoordinated. Her hands anchored into his delightful hair and she felt the steps he took while walking up the narrow, wooden stairs.

Clara was no longer anticipating, but craving what was bound to come next.

John lead the way into a bedroom, further lined with a row of books and a small TV in the corner. However Clara was better occupied with kissing every inch of his skin she could reach, unbuttoning his shirt while he gazed up at her devotionally. Discarding it profusely it was then she admired the taut skin pulling at his toned muscles just about visible on his pale and thin chest.

He lowered down onto the bed, bringing Clara with him, and suddenly the passion took over and he was taking off as much as there was between them. They pushed, tugged, pulled at each other until each was a dance of its own becoming one.

He kissed her neck down to her chest, her face and lips while she played with his cock, teasing him.

It was a relief when Clara finally felt the crushing sensation of him inside her, thrusting into her with that same dexterity and elegance he possessed while dancing. He watched her through hooded eyes, repeatedly pounding like he was passing his energy to her. Hands groped her body and her own anchored in his hair.

With a loud groan he thrusted deeper and harder, hitting that sweet spot as the wave of his orgasm came synchronously with hers. Eliciting a final moan of arousal he slumped forward, immediately taking her in his arms. Her hands still fiddled with his hair and the smile she gave him was a mischievous one full of adoration. He was definitely the best she ever had, and she carried that notion while she kissed him again, lingering at his lips as long as possible. There were no words to describe but she was pretty sure he had forgotten about Missy and the stress and the dances. As he pulled her closer he kissed her hair and uttered a simple phrase that made her heart skip a beat.

'You, Clara Oswald, are amazing.'