Thank you for the lovely reviews. Disappointed about the lack of kissing? Awww. . .

Chapter 14

The first thing that caught the Doctor's attention when he returned from his last class for the day was the closed door between his office and that of Clara, but what made him aware that something was terribly wrong was the quiet noises he could hear coming from the other side when he stepped closer. Carefully the Doctor raised his hand to the door and knocked.

"Not now," he could hear Clara say behind the door. Her voice sounded odd.

"Clara?"

There was rustling sound. "I said not now."

Something wasn't right and he knew it, so despite her protests the Doctor went to open the door.

Clara was sitting behind her desk, looking a little startled at his sudden interruption, her hand was clutching a tissue and her eyes were red from crying, the tears still visible on her cheeks.

"What part of not now did you not understand?" she asked him and proceeded to blow her nose in the handkerchief.

"Is everything alright?" the Doctor asked her with a hint of panic in his voice. Clara was crying and that wasn't good, it was anything but good. Yet he had no idea what to do about it.

"No," she wailed in reply and suddenly broke out into sobbing, burying her face in the tissue, "I can't do it. I just can't. It's only their first essays and they're making me feel stupid already."

The Doctor watched as Clara slumped down on her desk and continued to cry, her face hidden away behind her hands. He had to think of something to make her stop. Anything. Then he suddenly had an idea.

Without saying another word the Doctor turned on his heels and headed into the staff kitchen, switched on the kettle and started preparing a cup of tea. He found rock sugar when he went through the cupboards and even some whipped cream in the small fridge, even though he couldn't imagine who would need it at their work place. But he wasn't going to complain about it now.

Once he was back in his office the Doctor opened one of the drawers of his desk and retrieved a bottle of Scotch from inside before pouring some of it in the tea cup and finishing the creation with a topping of whipped cream. Tea with Scotch, sugar and whipped cream – sounded like the perfect recipe to make a woman stop crying.

"Clara, come here, please," he said loudly enough for her to hear, "I've got something for you."

When she didn't react the Doctor once again made his way to the door, only to see that Clara was still at her desk, staring right at him through her big eyes. He held up the mug and granted her a soft smile.

"You made me tea?" she croaked.

"Special recipe," he nodded in the direction of his office, "Come, sit on the couch with me."

Still sniffing, Clara slowly rose from her chair and followed him into his own office before she let herself fall back down on his sofa. The Doctor couldn't help but think that she looked downright miserable while he handed her the mug and sat down next to her. Whatever it was that had upset her so much, he would try his best to help her.

"There's whipped cream on there," she noted and took a careful sip, "And also there's Scotch in it."

"You looked like you needed it," the Doctor replied softly.

Clara took another gulp from the tea before she set her mug down on the small coffee table and then, to his surprise, she flung her arms around him and leaned against his chest. Somehow he knew that she started to cry again, but the Doctor couldn't quite find the words now that she was touching him.

"I started reading their essays," she sniffed, "And I have no idea what to do. I don't know where to start. I've never even heard of some of their sources. I've made a big mistake. I can't teach at uni. I just don't know how."

When Clara broke out into sobs again, the Doctor finally knew what to do. He closed his arms around her in return, holding her in his embrace, and just let her cry for a moment.

"It's okay," he whispered after a while, "It's normal to feel like that at the beginning, but trust me, you were born to teach at uni. I knew it the moment you stepped into my class. You were bold and brave and you had the audacity to challenge me over Shakespeare even though you were about half my size."

"I was exactly the size I am now," she replied and the Doctor thought he heard her chuckle despite her tears, "And you were wrong."

"No, I wasn't," he argued.

Suddenly Clara raised her head again, staring up at him. "Are we really gonna start that again?"

The Doctor smiled at her and in a surge of bravery he reached for her face and cupped her cheeks in both his hands as tenderly as he possibly could. "Well, you are definitely wrong about this. You can do it, I know it. And I will help you out as long as you need me. Starting with those essays."

Clara's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed determinedly, "I won't let you quit this job, not when I know you can do-"

His sentence was abruptly cut short when Clara sat back up and before he knew what was happening her mouth was pressed against his own in a kiss. His mind went utterly blank when their lips touched and he wanted so much to give in to her, to open up and let her in, to taste her properly. He wanted all of her.

And yet before he could act Clara pulled aware from him, the shock of what she had done so awfully plain on her face.

"Sorry," she uttered instantly, "I'm sorry. I, uhm, I didn't mean to. It was. . . It was just. . . I don't know."

Clara rose from the sofa and took a few steps back while the Doctor still had no idea what to say to her. Of course she had never meant to kiss him. Of course not, she was engaged to Danny. And he was just an idiot, hoping for there to be something between them and making an effort for nothing. He needed to think. I needed to get this kiss out of his head as soon as possible and yet there was no way he could, not while her touch was still burning and tingling on his skin.

"Uhm," he paused, "Essays. We should probably grade them."

"Yeah," Clara breathed and the Doctor saw that she swallowed hard, "Essays. Right. We probably should."

The Doctor forced himself to laugh in an attempt to lift her spirits – and his own confusion. "Can't waste our time kissing, right?"

"No," Clara blurted out immediately, her eyes wide, "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I know, I shouldn't have done that."

"No," he sighed, his voice sad. Clara didn't want him in that way. He had been wrong.