Thank you so much for the reviews :) And sorry for the heart attack :D

Chapter 12

The plane touched down in Paris at 4:30 p.m., the time Clara now usually spent in his painting class, and the Doctor practically hurried Clara out of the airport as quickly as it was possible. She didn't even get the chance to breathe before they were inside a taxi.

"What's the rush?" Clara asked him as soon as she was able to catch her breath.

The Doctor beamed at her. "We need to get to my apartment quickly and change. I'm taking you to a concert at 6 and to dinner after that. Tomorrow we'll do the Eiffel Tower and some other sights before the gallery event in the afternoon. What we do tomorrow evening is entirely up to you."

"Wow," Clara breathed, smiling back at him, "You've really thought this through, haven't you? What's the concert you're taking me to?"

"Yo-Yo Ma is playing Bach's cello suits at the Salle Pleyel. He's a world famous cellist. I've seen him once before. You will love it. And I've reserved a table at the L'Arc afterwards."

Clara had never before heard of the cellist, in fact, she hardly knew anything about classical music at all and the name of the restaurant didn't ring a bell either. But from the way the Doctor looked at her, so proud and pleased with himself Clara could guess that both were really special.

As it turned out the Doctor's apartment was at the top of a high building and was actually more of a loft than an apartment. There was only one room with a large double bed, a sofa and coffee table, a small corner for the kitchen and the only room that was really separate was the bathroom. It had a roof access and more painting supplies than the Doctor could possibly use. The walls were lined with paintings like they were in his London house only here Clara spotted a few shadows on the wall where she assumed there had once been pictures as well. For some reason the Doctor must have taken them down.

"You can have a look later," the Doctor said hurriedly, "Come one! Get dressed!"

With a sigh Clara walked into bathroom and changed into her dark blue evening dress. After applying some make up and checking if her hair was still in place she emerged into the main room again and found the Doctor adjusting his bow. Not a tie, not a bow tie but a simple black bow standing in stark contrast to his white shirt. He looked dashing and a smile spread across her face. For the first time it really struck her: They were in Paris, the city of love, a wonderful, handsome man was taking her to a concert and to dinner and he seemed to have no clue that that was the best possible date Clara could ever imagine.

"Here, let me," she said and stepped closer, taking the bow out of his hands and tying it properly. When it looked decent Clara straightened his shirt with her hands.

"You look really handsome tonight, Doctor."

"And you, Clara Oswald," he smiled broadly at her, "You look beautiful."

"You're tempted to paint me, am I right?"

"Absolutely."

Clara giggled and reached for his jacket, handing it to him.

"Resist it," she told him determinedly.

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it," the Doctor replied, winking at her.

Clara started to laugh. "Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself. I know a Wilde quote when I see one. English teacher, remember? Now, come on. You were the one urging me hurry a moment ago."

OOO

The concert hall was large and elegant and the Doctor led her to their seats in the centre of the room.

"I'm sorry. These seats were all I could do at such short notice," he apologized as they sat down.

"Are you kidding me?" Clara asked. She had a great view on the stage and it was pretty much about the music anyway, not only about seeing the cellist perform. She smiled at him. "The seats are great. This is great. I've never actually been to a classical concert. How do people even behave at this sort of thing? Do you clap or-"

The Doctor let out a laugh. "Just do what everyone else does. Enjoy the music. The first cello suit is a masterpiece."

As it turned out Clara didn't need any prior knowledge about classical music to tell that it was beautiful and moving and unlike anything she had ever heard so far. She watched in awe as the cellist seemed to caress his instrument, wondering how on earth it could be that what she saw was able to produce the tones that resonated through every cell of her body.

"Do you like it?" the Doctor whispered into her ear.

"Shhh!", Clara hushed him but a moment later she turned around, smiling, "I love it."

He seemed pleased with himself as she looked at him and it was at this moment that Clara realized what Amy had been talking about. This was the Doctor Amy had known, the Doctor she had admired and loved, the Doctor who had showed her his world that Clara had so far assumed only consisted of paintings. But now she knew that there was so much more to it and she couldn't wait so see the rest.

OOO

As wonderful and extraordinary as the concert had been the restaurant was anything but a letdown afterwards. Even though she had never heard of L'Arc before tonight Clara soon realized that every single person in this restaurant probably had. It was posh, to say the least. The Doctor was really going to great lengths to make this trip memorable for her. It dawned on her then that everyone, including the waiter who took their order and recommended a wine, probably thought they were a couple and the idea of it made her giggle.

"What is it?" the Doctor asked her.

"Nothing," Clara smiled, "It's just. . . it's wonderful. We're in Paris. Classical music, nice restaurant, great wine, food on the way. Not quite what I was expecting when you invited me to come with you."

"What exactly were you expecting?"

The Doctor took a sip from his wine but didn't seem to like the taste and put the glass back on the table.

"I don't know. Not this. But it's a nice surprise," Clara replied sincerely.

Over dinner they talked some more about the city and this restaurant and the Doctor let slip that this building also held a famous night club and suddenly he had caught her attention.

"Can we go, please?" she begged him, smiling.

"To the night club?" the Doctor frowned at her in disbelief.

"Yes," Clara replied, laughing, "Come on, we did the concert and this restaurant. Let me pick something."

"You can pick something tomorrow," he promised her and Clara tried to give him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. The Doctor sighed. "I hate night clubs. All this jumping and grinding, it feels like being in a zoo, surrounded by monkeys. Besides, aren't you tired?"

Clara shook her head. Oddly enough she wasn't tired even though she knew she should be. She had gotten up for school early today but Paris and the concert and the dinner had been so marvellous so far that she seemed to have forgotten about everything else. It was almost was if the entire city was buzzing inside her head along with the wine and the idea of the life the Doctor was leading. She was bursting with energy. Right now she was so grateful that he had picked her and decided to make her his muse.

"I have a better idea," the Doctor said after a while, "How about we go home?"

The smile froze on Clara's lips while her brain was trying to process the Doctor's suggestion but after a while she told herself that she should know better than to expect what she was desperately hoping for. She knew it wouldn't happen. Not yet anyway.

"I think I know of something that you would enjoy," he smirked at her as he waved for the waiter and paid and Clara was growing increasingly curious about what the Doctor had planned next.

He gave nothing away on the ride to his apartment and Clara was a little confused when they stepped inside but the Doctor immediately walked across the room and opened the door to the roof access, gesturing for her to follow him.

"You wanna go up there?" Clara asked, swallowing hard. She was afraid of heights and she wasn't entirely sure she was actually going to like the idea of standing on a rooftop.

"Trust me," he said kindly, "Paris at night is a sight to behold."

The Doctor walked up the last flight of stairs with Clara following him on his heels but when he stepped across the roof she stopped until he noticed and turned around.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Clara," he told her, "Come and see."

She was reluctant to step closer to the edge, feeling a little unsteady on her feet but from the wine or fright Clara couldn't really tell. The Doctor outstretched his hand to her and carefully Clara took it, letting him lead her almost up to the edge of the roof.

Once she found her feet solid on the ground again and the Doctor's hand on her waist was supporting her she dared to look, really look and something struck her. She couldn't explain what it was or where it had come from but it was there the moment she looked down on the city below her feet and Clara took a deep breath. Everything was so tiny, so insignificant, so unimportant that it made all of her fears, all of her problems vanish. Right now she was above them all and nothing could touch her. It hit her then and she started to laugh. She didn't matter. The Doctor didn't matter. They were like the people far down below her feet, tiny insects crawling all over the planet and yet here they were. Clara important to the Doctor, the Doctor important to her. It seemed insane to even think about it.

The Doctor also laughed next to her. "What is it, Clara?"

"I'm scared of heights," she replied, unable to suppress her giggles.

"Then why are we up here? You could have said something. Let's get back inside."

"No," Clara said and turned to look at the Doctor. She was laughing and he didn't even understand why, "I love it. My heart is racing, I'm trembling like mad, I'm terrified and I love it."

The Doctor frowned at her. He still didn't get it.

"I love it!" she repeated for him, louder this time, "I feel alive! For the first time in years I feel like an actual living, breathing person again! I'm standing on a rooftop in Paris, I'm in my evening dress, I'm scared shitless and I love it!"

In a sudden surge of bravery she stepped forward just a little further, letting go of the Doctor's hand until she was standing free and able to look straight down. It was frightening and wonderful. One more step, the loss of balance and it could be over in an instant. Clara had never felt so alive before.

"Clara," the Doctor said in a sombre, almost wary tone, "Come back from the edge, please."

She turned around to face him. The Doctor seemed as tiny as the rest of them. He looked so scared as the edge was right behind her and a thrill shot right through her bones. He was afraid she was going to fall, he cared about her that much at least.

"Why did you choose me, Doctor?" she asked him, smiling, "Why me out of every woman on earth?"

"I don't know, Clara," he said desperately, holding out his hand for her to take. But she didn't, "Please, just come back here."

She shook her head frantically. She was loving this. Even though she could lose control over her body any second, Clara had complete control over him right now. "No, Doctor. Tell me! Why me?!"

"I can't tell you, Clara, because I don't know!" the Doctor was yelling at her. God, he looked so desperate, so lost, "I'm begging you, Clara! Come down!"

Clara shuffled backwards until the back of her shoes hit the little barrier on the very edge of the roof. Just a little further. Just pushing it a little more.

"Kiss me, Doctor!" she laughed, her breath came out ragged. God, she wanted him to kiss her now more than ever. Couldn't he feel it, too? "Kiss me and I'll step away from the edge!"

"Clara, what's gotten into you? Please, please, just take my hand!" he took a small step forwards, his hand still held in her direction but Clara didn't budge. Were those tears in his eyes? Was he crying? "CLARA, WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

"Because I can!" she yelled back at him, "Because I could jump and only a handful of people would care. We're nothing, Doctor. I could die and the sun would rise tomorrow and the world would continue to turn and I have never felt so alive before! I was dead, Doctor! I was dead before I met you and I didn't even know I was! I wanna live like you do, on the edge! Never tired! Never hungry! I just wanna live!"

"THAT ISN'T LIVING CLARA," he yelled desperately, "Now, please, please come back down! God, why does this always happen to me!"

He stepped forward, trying to grab her, intending to pull her away when suddenly Clara's feet slipped and she could feel herself fall.