Hey guys! I wasn't even planning on writing today, but I just spontaneously got motivation and rolled with it. I've been typing for like three hours. My hands are going to fall off.

Anyway, I really hope you like this one! It was definitely my favourite to write :D Happy reading, allons-y!

Clara pulled open the Tardis doors and immediately wished she hadn't.

Of course she knew Jim couldn't possibly get away with his most recent bout of reckless criminal behaviour, but she hadn't expected this. Or maybe she had, but she had just adamantly pushed it to the farthest recesses of her mind in a futile attempt to dismiss it as a possibility. Partially because she didn't want to accept it, and also because she didn't want to admit how she felt about it. She wasn't ready to face up to this decision.

Guns. Lots of them. All pointing directly at their smirking target, Jim Moriarty.

Though the weapons were aimed at the man standing nonchalantly in the centre of the room, all eyes were suddenly transfixed on Clara as she took a tentative step out of the Tardis which had just landed back where they had started in Scotland Yard.

"Um," She glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor as he followed her, eyeing the armed officers nervously. "Don't shoot."

"Impeccable timing as always, Miss Oswald," Jim winked at her, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips as he remained rooted to the spot, his hands raised lazily in surrender. At least five officers were standing in defensive stances with their pistols poised ready to shoot, some which Clara didn't recognise who were currently trying not to stare at the Tardis in bewilderment.

"Clara, we're authorised to shoot this man, I'm going to have to ask you and your friend to leave," It was Lestrade who spoke, his teeth gritted fiercely, a hint of regret mingled with determination in his eyes as he glared at Moriarty. Clara felt her stomach plummet.

"What?" She barely managed to voice the word as her breath was cut off in a sharp, horrified gasp. "No- You can't! You can't kill him!"

"I suppose this is the part where I utter my last words in a needlessly dramatic fashion," Jim turned around slowly, staring down the barrel of each gun briefly before wheeling around to face the Tardis again. "Sherlock, I'm leaving you nothing. John, same goes for you- Ah, actually, maybe I'll leave you with a few broken bones, we'll see how much time I have. And Clara, I'm leaving you my entire criminal network. The show must go on."

Clara choked at his words and Jim laughed, closing his eyes briefly in amusement.

"Joking," He sang, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He shifted from foot to foot impatiently. "Well come on then, ladies and gents. Are you going to shoot me or what? You know what they say, hesitation leads to damnation."

"No one says that," Clara growled, though her anger was mainly directed at herself. She shouldn't care in the slightest that a depraved, malicious criminal was on the verge of being wiped off the face of the earth, but she did. She cared too much. "Lestrade, don't shoot him."

"If you don't leave now, I will shoot him right in front of you, Clara, I'm trying to spare you here," He snapped ferociously, his voice raising as his fingers tightened around the trigger. "Get out!"

"Clara, come on," The Doctor tried to lead her back into the Tardis and she whipped around to look at him, hurt that he wasn't on her side here.

"Doctor," She hissed, searching his face but finding nothing but heavy resignation. "We don't walk away."

"We do this time," The Doctor sighed, his gaze holding hers imploringly. That just about pushed Clara over the edge. She snapped, proceeding to make possibly the most horrendously idiotic decision ever and to carry out the most recklessly stupid plan she had ever formulated. She would have to have a serious word with her heart after this and inform it that she was going to follow her head from now on.

"When I said no one is going to die today, I bloody meant it!" She yelled, lurching forward and grabbing a surprised Jim Moriarty by the arm. A series of metallic clicks echoed around them as the guns redirected their aim. Lestrade swore underneath his breath, a bead of sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Bloody hell, Clara, don't do this," He huffed in barely concealed desperation as Clara dragged Jim towards the Tardis, positioning herself in such a way that she was sure the officers wouldn't be able to get a clear shot.

"Sorry," She whispered, her eyes pleading and apologetic as she pushed Jim into the Tardis, throwing herself in behind him and slamming the doors shut.

The Doctor wasn't happy, she could tell from his stony silence as he set the Tardis into motion whilst eyeing Moriarty warily, but Clara found that her attention was captured by the consulting criminal's reaction to the new world that he had just quite literally stepped into.

"Not possible," He breathed, turning around in a slow circle, his head tilted upwards to take in everything at once, his eyes wide and incredulous. Clara couldn't help but smile at the fact that for once, he was the one in awe of something, not the one evoking it from others.

"Yep, it's possible alright," Clara patted the side of the Tardis affectionately and she hummed indignantly. "She doesn't usually cater for criminals, but considering you were a bit of a damsel in distress…"

"It's-"

"Bigger on the inside, I know," The Doctor couldn't help blurting out the phrase, though his jaw remained taut, his stance tense.

"I was going to say smaller than I expected."

The Doctor scoffed in indignation. Jim began to walk around, awestruck.

"But how- How?" He spun around again, spreading his arms wide as if to emphasise his disbelief. "It's dimensionally transcendental, how- How can we be standing here without the prospect of molecular disintegration?"

"Well, it's all very simple really-" The Doctor began albeit a tad reluctantly, though Clara noticed his eyes lit up at the mention of the technical terms.

"Doctor, maybe save that tale for another time, yeah?" Clara raised her eyebrows at him as the Tardis shuddered to a halt. "This man's got enough stories under his belt to last him a lifetime."

She strode forward and took Jim's hand, causing him to jump in surprise. She tugged him along behind her, making a beeline for the door.

"You and I have a lot to discuss, and I can't promise you'll make it out of this conversation alive," Clara ground out through clenched teeth, her amusement at Jim's reaction to the Tardis dissolving rapidly as her anger resurfaced.

"You're bluffing, you said no one's going to die today, not on your watch," Jim teased confidently, and Clara didn't need to look at him to know he had a conceited grin in place on his face. "Watches, clocks… Funny how recurrent those things seem to be today, isn't it?"

"Not funny at all, actually."

"Clara, wait!" The Doctor approached her with a hand outstretched cautiously as she glared at Jim. "I can't leave you alone with him."

"Doctor, I have survived this long- Whoa, wait, what are you doing what that?"

The Doctor held a gun not unlike the pistols they had at Scotland Yard, and though it rested by his side inside of being aimed and ready to fire, Clara couldn't help but see a glimpse of the man who had fought in a great war in the way the gun sat snugly in his hand.

"What a shocking turn of events," Jim pulled his hand from Clara's and sauntered over to the Doctor who raised the gun warily. Jim stared at him brazenly and cocked his head to the side. "Once a soldier always a soldier, I suppose."

The Doctor gritted his teeth and took a step forward.

"Ooh, touched a nerve, did I?" Moriarty grinned.

"That's enough of that!" Clara sprang in between the pair, holding her hands out mollyfyingly. She held a shaky palm out to the Doctor. "Doctor, give me the gun."

The Time Lord looked straight past her, his eyes fixed on the smiling villain.

"Doctor, you give me that gun or so help me," Clara hated the fact that her voice was trembling, along with her entire frame. She couldn't seem to keep her shaking hand steady.

"Clara, worry will be the death of you," Moriarty's lilting voice trilled from behind her and she took a deep breath and did her best to ignore him.

"Doctor."

She widened her eyes earnestly, pleading with her friend silently and feeling a brief wave of relief when she saw something shift in his eyes. Reluctance. Fear. Anger. Resignation.

He slowly lowered the weapon, and Clara prised it from his slack fingers carefully.

"Okay," She breathed, not sure who she was trying to reassure. "Okay."

She took Jim's hand again, her other fist clutched tightly around the gun, half afriaad that it would go off at any second. She stared at the Doctor gravely.

"Doctor, I'm going to talk to Jim. Alone," She stated flatly. She continued before the Time Lord could argue. "You are going to fly away in your box, and you are going to leave me to it. I will be fine, like I always am, and then I will call you, and you can come and see me. But I need to do this first, Doctor. Do you understand me?"

She could tell that he was prepared to give in, and her suspicions were confirmed by his weary nod. Perhaps it was the potentially dangerous firearm in her hand that had convinced him of her safety. It had quite the opposite effect on Clara, she was feeling increasingly on edge the longer it remained in her grasp.

Before the Time Lord could change his mind, she dragged Jim out of the Tardis, not even stopping to close the door behind them as she strode briskly further and further away from the blue box, pausing only when she heard the faint sound of the time machine dematerialising behind them.

"Clara."

She didn't reply. She continued to walk, turning around a corner in an unfamiliar street, quiet and devoid of people. There was a faint sea breeze coming from somewhere, and she realised with a start that she had no idea what town or city they were in. Surely they were still in England; the same ominous grey clouds laden with potential for a downpour loomed overhead.

"Clara."

She finally turned to face him, the increasingly strong breeze whipping her hair across her face momentarily. She took a shaky step back, the realisation that it was just him and her here, alone, suddenly striking her. She looked at his dark eyes which were staring at her imploringly, his face suddenly clear of the smug, confident mask, a hint of concern etched into his feature. The fact that he could show such a human emotion after everything he had done almost made Clara want to laugh.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely fair to place all the blame for her falling in love with him on the consulting criminal himself, for she suspected, not without some disdain, that she too was partially at fault as a result of her curious disposition and danger-seeking nature.

This was what she told herself as the first droplets of rain began to fall, and she pushed back the sudden uninvited lump in her throat and took a deep breath.

"I'm just a pawn in your game, is that it?" She hissed. Her voice didn't need to be much above a whisper for her words to have the desired effect. Jim look momentarily affronted before regaining his composure and narrowing his eyes.

"Is that what you think?" He took a step forward, and she took one back. The gun resting at her side suddenly felt uncomfortably heavy in her hand.

"What else am I supposed to think?" She snarled, gritting her teeth to stop her voice from faltering. "You forced me to make a life altering decision-"

"And look how you turned out!" Jim spread his arms wide, raising his voice earnestly. "You did it, you stepped up to the plate and you beat me, Clara Oswald. You did exactly what I was hoping you'd do, you were clever."

"Don't turn this into something positive!" She cried, the cold from the rain beginning to seep into her bones as the droplets steadily increased. "People could have died-"

"So what?" Jim yelled, his eyes wide, his lack of regard for her concerns painfully evident. "I gave you an opportunity, Clara. It must be awfully aggravating having to constantly be the sidekick in your little duo with the Doctor, I gave you a chance to shine."

"I'm an English teacher," Clara spat out fiercely, trembling. "I am a normal, functioning human being and I shouldn't have to be put in that sort of situation, this shouldn't be happening to me! It doesn't make sense-"

"It doesn't make sense because it's not real!" Jim burst out, taking another step closer in defiance as he glared at her, and this time Clara didn't step back. His hair was soaked, the drops of rains cascading onto his shoulders as he met her gaze. "This is who you are, Clara Oswald, who you've always been. You're not an ordinary, boring school teacher, you're a danger magnet. You're not able to resist a little bit of a darkness."

You- You-" Clara huffed, practically shaking with anger and momentarily lost for a comeback. He had a point, and she hated him for it. She shivered and blinked the moisture out of her eyes, realising with a start that it wasn't just the rain that was making her eyelashes damp. She fought back her tears of frustration, finding it next to impossible to ignore the dull ache that she felt in her heart when she looked at Jim.

"Okay, okay," Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes shut for a brief second, inhaling deeply. "I'll admit that there sometimes tends to be a certain degree of collateral damage as a result of my schemes-"

"Murder. Murder and destruction are the results of your schemes."

"That's not the point-"

"That's exactly the point!" She cried out, and this time she was the one to take a step closer. "You can't just- You manipulated me!"

"I gave you an offer you couldn't possibly refuse, that's your weakness, Clara Oswald, never mind about mine!" He pointed at her almost accusingly and Clara felt her tears begin to cloud her vision. She blinked, letting them fall and mingle with the rain drops on her cold cheeks.

"I think I'm- No I- Why am I crying?" She gasped, struggling to suppress the sob that rose in her throat. She hated the hold her had on her, the way he made her feel. She hated the fact that she couldn't possibly hate him, no matter how hard she tried. She was on the verge of shattering.

"Clara-" Jim's eyes softened suddenly and he stepped forward but Clara jumped back, her heart thudding in her chest.

"No," She fought back a sob, raising the gun with trembling hands and pointing it at him. His lack of emotion in response to her daring move aggravated her. He didn't even appear surprised.

"You wouldn't pull that trigger."

"Wouldn't I?" She yelled, hating how the gun felt in her hand, a foreign object capable of so much pain and harm, hating her tears as they streamed down her cheeks, hating the trembling in her voice.

"Go ahead then," He replied simply with a shrug. "Shoot me."

"Shut up!"

"You can't, can you? Why can't you, Clara?"

"Stop it," She sobbed, her tears obscuring her vision and blinding her. "I'm tired of playing your stupid games! You've been manipulating me all this time- How do I know you're not manipulating me right now?"

"You don't know," He quipped back flatly, his face blank as he stared at her. Clara coughed out an angry sigh. The gun trembled with her hand, the metal feeling icy cold against her numb fingers.

"I hate you," She lied with a heart wrenching sob. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't do this. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-"

"Well I love you."

Clara choked, drawing in a shuddering breath as she stared at him in shock. Had she misheard?

"W- What?"

"I'm not going to say it again," He shrugged matter-of-factly, closing the distance between them crouching down to press the barrel of the gun to his forehead. Clara's eyes widened at the brazen gesture. Jim's eyes glinted dangerously.

"Now, Clara Oswald. Are you going to pull that trigger?"

Clara shook her head wordlessly and Jim smiled, straightening up abruptly and plucking the gun from her hand.

"Excellent, because I've got a much better use for it."

He squinted at the pistol, turning the end of the barrel toward his face and blew into it briefly, before reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving a small piece of neatly folded paper which he curled up and shoved into the barrel of the firearm.

"What's that?" Clara whispered as he handed the gun back to her, curling her numb fingers around the weapon gently. He smiled softly.

"A message. But don't worry about that for now."

Clara stared up at him, frozen in place as he cupped her face in his hands almost possessively, wiping away- Was that raindrops or her tears? Clara couldn't tell the difference anymore.

But it didn't matter anyway. Because then he kissed her, and nothing else mattered at all.

Clara was consumed by a euphoric ache in her chest as his lips moved against hers softly, and suddenly everything seemed to be put into focus. She didn't care who he was, she didn't care what he had done, the only thing that mattered was him. She hadn't realised how much she had been longing for this until now.

She wrapped her hands around his neck, her fumbling fingers pulling him closer to her as she tried to make him understand all she couldn't manage to put into words. But Jim Moriarty was clever, quite possibly the cleverest man she had ever met. He knew how she felt. She didn't have to say it.

She wasn't sure when the gun had fallen out of her hands, but now it lay discarded on the ground beside them. Jim pulled back just enough to look into her eyes and Clara brought her hand up to touch his cheek.

"Don't leave," She whispered, knowing full well that he would. "Please."

"Clara Oswald," Jim sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Clara closed her eyes as he held her to him, and suddenly she didn't feel so cold despite the incessant rain. She curled her fingers around his shirt, unwilling to let go, but she knew she'd have to. He wasn't going to stay. She sighed as she pressed herself to him, hating that this felt painfully like a goodbye.

"I love you too," She whispered against his shoulder, grateful that he couldn't see her tears. She vowed that when she pulled back, she would be able to hold back the torrent of emotion that was straining to break free.

"I know," He sighed sadly, clutching her tighter. Clara knew how dysfunctional this was, but she also felt like this was where she belonged. She was finding it hard to forgive him for everything he had done, but even so her heart wouldn't allow her to remain angry with him.

Clara felt a stab of panic course through her as he pulled away, her fear of the unknown engulfing her for a moment.

"When am I going to see you again?" She breathed, searching his eyes for some sign of sincerity. His guard was down, and he didn't bother to put it back up as he returned her gaze.

"Soon."

"Promise?"

"I don't do promises."

"Well you owe me," She snapped quickly, narrowing her eyes at him defiantly, issuing him with a challenge. "After all this you have to make it up to me. So you have to come back. Take me out somewhere, I think our relationship can stretch to that."

"Take you out as in on a date or take you out like an assassin? You're going to have to be more specific."

"Shut up," She laughed, pushing him lightly. She smiled when she managed to get a small grin out of him. It felt good to laugh after everything, if only for a brief moment. She struggled to keep her smile in place as she took one of his hands in hers gently. Jim's expression softened at her touch.

"Just come back to me," She whispered, keeping her promise to herself and just about managing to keep her traitor tears at bay.

"Always," He vowed, sincerity in his tone as he cupped the back of her head gently and kissed her forehead again. He pulled away with a sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground by her feet. He raised his eyebrows at the discarded gun.

"Now that's a potential hazard if ever I saw one," He nudged the pistol gentle with his foot, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning away with a final parting smile.

"I'll be seeing you, Clara Oswald," He called as he strode away, raising a hand in a lazy salute. "Do give that message to the Doctor from me, won't you?"

Clara wiped away a stray tear quickly. Jim's back was to her, so it didn't count as letting him see her cry. She bent down to pick up the gun hesitantly, her heart sinking as Jim disappeared around the corner. She felt unbearably cold and alone.

She handled the gun carefully with trembling fingers, numb with the cold and pulled out the small note with a pounding pulse. She hurried to duck into a nearby doorway, hoping for some kind of shelter for the elements as she unfurled the small piece of paper.

A message for the Doctor, he had said. That didn't bode well.

Two words were written on the crumpled fragment of paper, the letters beginning to merge as the rain drops mixed with the ink. Clara's heart plummeted sickeningly, liquid dread running through her veins.

Everything Burns.

SO WHAT DID YOU THINK? :D Please tell me you ship it, WHY ISN'T THIS SHIP BIGGER UGH.

OH- Off topic for a sec, what do y'all think of the new companion? No one will ever replace Clara for me I love her to bits but I actually really like this new companion already! Thoughts?

So anyway, that's chapter- What's it now? Twelve? Yes, twelve like Capaldi. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it, thanks for reading!