"Um…what?" Gobsmacked didn't really even begin to cover it.
First…where the hell had that come from?
Second, two thousand years was an unbelievable amount of time to have never failed at seducing someone – and that included nearly a thousand years of his previous self - clumsy, flailing limbs and all. Even though said limb flailing had not only been endearing but had come with a voice that could drop to a toe-curlingly rumbly baritone, his track record couldn't have been perfect. But then…
He knew the object of the game was to get the other person to drink - so he assumed she had failed to seduce someone. But who? She hadn't flirted with anyone around him, had she? Unless he'd viewed her unabashed fangirling around Robin Hood as a veiled attempt to seduce him? Perhaps he'd gotten the wrong impression. "I dunno where that came from, but I've never tried to seduce anyone – and definitely not around you. Which means I've never failed at it, either."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow pointedly at her.
"Hang on…" She didn't really give a damn about breaking the rules anymore. "Do you think I'm…do you think I'm trying to seduce you?"
He said nothing, but he made a valiant effort to hide a smile that kept threatening to form.
"Doctor. Do you seriously think I'm trying to seduce you? That this was why I wanted to play this game – to get you drunk, to say things, to…do things?"
It could've been a trick of the light, but she could've sworn that there was a twinkle in his eye. "Are we still playing the game?"
Clara could feel her frustration mounting. "Well, yeah, 'course we are."
"So we either keep playing - or we can stop, and you can ask me all your questions. Your choice."
Of course– she should've known. Why would the Doctor want to make her drink if he could still devise new ways to get her to stop playing the game with an open invitation to ask him extremely personal questions?
Honestly, did he really think she was that daft?
She narrowed her eyes at him, fingers tapping against her glass. "Fine," she decided. "Fine, then -" She took a breath. "Never have I EVER tried to seduce you!"
The Doctor gave a nod, lips pursed like he'd considered her statement and found it agreeable.
Clara huffed, hoping that settled it. Maybe starting almost-sober had been a mistake: if she had been drunk, his attempts to needle her wouldn't have hit her as hard. She braced herself for his next shot.
But it didn't come.
Instead, the Doctor's eyes flicked to his glass, then back at her. And very slowly, very deliberately, he raised it to his lips and took a sip.
For the first time that night, she was truly speechless.
He regarded her with an infuriating level of calm, his features utterly still.
"But – but you just said you've never tried to seduce someone and failed. So that means…"
They'd had one… intimate… encounter, but that was as a result of the TARDIS meltdown – it had been a necessity! They would've been blown to pieces if she hadn't helped him. Did he actually view that as a seduction?
Well, there was one easy way to find out.
She raised her chin, looking at him boldly. "Never have I ever masked my intentions to seduce someone by taking advantage of a TARDIS meltdown."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, his glass staying still.
Clara shook her head, wide-eyed. "But that means –"
"My turn," he reminded her.
Clara swallowed, her mind reeling.
"Never have I ever poorly masked my intentions to seduce someone by propositioning my friend with a game of strip poker."
Her cheeks flamed, and she had to look away, fingers tightening around her glass. But wait…she hadn't propositioned him with strip poker – merely suggested it as a possibility for the favour he'd owed her.
Another bullseye, then, in this game he seemed to have turned into How To Make Clara as Uncomfortable as Possible (So She Lets Me Stop Playing This Stupid Game).
Well, she had given him carte blanche to play however he saw fit.
She was beginning to regret that decision.
Clearly, she had made a bloody poor job of hiding her feelings for him, and she couldn't deny any of it now. Never have I ever lusted after you wouldn't exactly win her back any points – or help her retain her dignity, for that matter.
Also because those words were never ever leaving her mouth around him. Ever.
So denial was out of the question. But what if…
She nearly smacked herself on the forehead like he used to do. The answer had been staring her in the face all along…
Always use your enemy's power against him.
If he'd changed the objective of the game, who was she to argue?
He was about to find out what playing How to Make the Doctor as Uncomfortable as Possible was like.
Examining her wine glass like the contents of it were far more interesting than him, she affected a tone that sounded almost bored. "Never have I ever wondered what it would be like to have you completely at my mercy…again."
He couldn't hide the slight widening of his eyes at that – or how his lips parted.
Oh yes. She'd have no qualms playing this way.
Openly smirking, she raised her glass to her lips and took a sip, her eyes sparkling…
-and nearly choked again when he mirrored her motion, taking his time to swirl the wine around his mouth before swallowing.
He was bluffing, he had to be…
Right?
"Never have I ever wondered what it would take…to make you beg for mercy."
Her grip loosened around the glass, and she had to make an effort not to let it slip, her left hand catching and steadying it.
The Doctor clearly didn't miss this almost-debacle, the edges of his mouth lifting slightly as he added fuel to the fire, taking another sip.
Shit.
Clara hastily took her own gulp of wine, not caring that the motion may have looked unconvincing.
"Never have I ever wondered what it would take to make you scream…my name."
The corners of his mouth immediately fell. She could see the wheels in his head turning at a lightning-fast rate as they each tipped back their glasses, eyes locked. But he didn't fire back immediately, turning his attention to the refilling of their glasses. Every second that ticked by Clara was sure her heart matched with two heartbeats. With only the sound of liquid hitting glass, it was entirely possible the Doctor could hear.
She wouldn't have been surprised if it was actually loud enough to echo inside the console room.
Certain she couldn't stand another second of silence, she was ready to break it - by breaking her glass if she needed to – when the Doctor's next words were uttered low, almost on a growl.
"Never have I ever wondered what it would be like to brand you with my name, my proper, real name – to sear it into you, to burn it…inside of you."
She couldn't help the way her mouth dropped open, her breath leaving her. Her next few shaky sips were of air, the cogs of her brain working furiously, searching for something, anything to top that. Her eyes landed on the chair off to the side. "Never have I ever wondered what it would be like to shag you senseless in that chair."
He didn't even wait for her take a drink. "Never have I ever wondered what it would be like to fuck you in that chair…till it broke."
Oh, you bastard.
He knew exactly what effect that word had on her.
They were both breathing audibly now, and Clara wondered how long they could keep it up until one of them gave in.
No…until he gave in.
Time to raise the stakes, then.
On impulse, she stood up and approached the console, feeling the Doctor's burning gaze track her every movement. She set her glass down and poised her hands over his beloved switches and levers. "Never have I ever wondered how you would react…" she began casually, though the tension in her shoulders belied her tone. "…if I did this." Still holding his gaze, she purposely deleted his previous coordinates and typed in a random set of new ones.
He was out of his chair in an instant, swiftly moving to stand behind her, his breath on her ear. "Never have I ever thought you'd be the type to invite punishment."
"Never have I ever thought you'd have the gall to punish me," she bit back.
His voice dropped to almost a whisper, his words fluttering against her hair. "Never have I ever wondered whether you could take the punishment I'd dole out to you."
Blood pounding in her ears, adrenaline fueling her motions, hormones skyrocketed to overdrive like a randy teenager's, she reached out with one hand to finalize the coordinates and the other to turn the lever.
His hands shot out immediately, latching onto her wrists, stopping her.
She froze, breathless. "Are we still playing the game, Doctor?"
Maintaining his vise-like grip, he slowly brought her wrists down to her sides, and for one heart-hammering moment, she thought he was going to pin them behind her back. "I tried to tell you, Clara, I don't play games." He relaxed his grip and let her wrists drop.
Clara's retort died in her throat when she felt the whisper of fingertips against her leg.
"It isn't that I don't like games," he murmured, his other arm snaking around her waist and pulling her into him. His fingers slid slowly up the outside of her leg, coming to the bottom of her skirt, fingertips just catching the underside of it like a careless breeze.
A little puff of air escaped her lips.
"I don't think they're beneath me." His fingers danced around the edge of the skirt several times, his other hand sliding down her stomach to the waistband, just enough to dip his fingertips underneath it. Then they moved lower, finding the elastic waistband of her knickers and sliding beneath that, too.
A high-pitched noise sounded from her throat.
"It's not that I can't play games." The fingers of his other hand traveled in the opposite direction, up, up, up her thigh, turning in and curling when he met the juncture of leg to hip, then starting at her hip and stroking down, down with one fingertip, skimming the edge of her knickers. "I…don't…play…games."
Clara tried and failed to bite down on her moan.
His next words were delivered on almost a hiss. "I win games."