A/N - I couldn't leave you hanging on for too long. This was of my favourite chapters to write. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

It was a lovely sunny Saturday and Clara had decided that in order not to waste the day festering in front of Netflix, she'd get some fresh air and read her book in the park. She enjoyed people watching as much as she did reading, and the weather was perfect for it. She'd hoped she might get to see the Doctor today, but he'd said he had commitments this weekend so they'd have to settle for a few late-night phone calls before bed. Although Clara was a little disappointed, the rational part of her knew that some time apart was probably a good thing - they'd been spending a lot of time together lately and she didn't want to neglect her friends. Amy had been begging her to go out all week as she was desperate for the gossip on the Doctor.

Clara was a tiny bit terrified about how quickly she was falling for the Doctor. Every moment they spent together, he was a constant surprise - he was gentle and kind, funny and extremely clever, but he had this intense gaze and fire in his eyes that made Clare hot under the collar. She both wanted to spend hours talking to him about his childhood in Glasgow and being a Doctor and old movies and rock music, and also spend hours learning every crevice of his body, finding out what would make him growl her name into her ear, and discovering what shade of blue or grey his eyes were after he reached the height of pleasure.

Although they had been dancing around each other for a few weeks, they'd only shared kisses and touches so far. A few times, standing on her doorstep after dinner or the cinema or an art gallery trip, Clara had hinted at maybe continuing their conversation inside or asking him in for coffee, or tried just kissing him breathless and hoping he made the first move. But alas, each time he made his excuses and Clara was left to keep imagining how quickly his talented hands would slip her out of her underwear and how beautiful he'd look naked in her soft white sheets. Clara thought maybe he was being a gentleman - trying not to move too fast, letting her dictate the pace. But there was a niggle that kept telling her that maybe he wasn't as interested as she was. Maybe he was still unsure. Maybe she'd wildly misunderstood what they were doing.

As she strolled through the park, smiling a little at the kids running around the playground and kicking footballs and riding their bikes in circles, Clara was surprised to spot the very man who was taking up all of her thoughts sitting casually on a bench, arms folded and looking out across the park. He had dressed for the sunnier weather and looked good for it - he was wearing dark jeans with a white skull tshirt and a deep blue cardigan, dark sunglasses perched on his nose.

She grinned, excited to surprise him. As she got nearer, she called out to him. "Hey you,"

Rather than looking pleased to see her, the Doctor immediately looked agitated. At her voice, he looked both confused and shocked and he stood up quickly, looking around and walking over to her to meet her half way. He looked twitchy and nervous and Clara couldn't figure out why.

"Hello," he said, his voice giving away the fact that something was going on. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Indeed," she said, trying to gauge his mood "What are you doing here?"

He shuffled on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, just passing through, nice day and everything, thought I'd take a break," he said quickly

Clara narrowed her eyes and reached up to touch his sunglasses. She slid them up and rested them on his head so she could look at him properly.

"You're being weird. What's wrong?"

He shook his head "Nothing, nothing, I'm fine, I was just-"

"Daddy, look at this little beetle I found!"

The Doctor closed his eyes, his sentence cut short by the small boy at his legs, a small black beetle pinched between his fingers.

Clara looked down at the boy, then up at the Doctor, her breath stuck in her throat, suddenly realising why he was acting strangely. He had a son.

The Doctor opened his eyes and watched the realisation pass across her face. He swallowed.

"Daddy, look!"

Breaking the tension, the Doctor finally crouched down.

"That's great, buddy, but we probably shouldn't smoosh them in our hands - I don't think they'd like that. Why don't you leave the little beetle and go and play in the sand again?"

Clara watched the exchange between the Doctor and the boy. The Doctor smoothed his hand through the little boys soft brown curls, pushing them from his eyes, the care and love evident in his touch. She could barely breathe.

"Ok, I'll build another sandcastle for you."

"Atta boy."

With that, the small boy in his navy shorts and white t-shirt, ran off back to the playground.

The Doctor turned back to Clara, and she hardly knew what to say. It was so much to take in so quickly. He had a son.

"Clara, please say something," he said, so quietly she barely heard him.

It was too much. She couldn't process everything with him stood in front of her like that, with the noises of children and laughing ringing in her ears.

She took a deep breath. "I should go," she said, and was just turning to leave when warm fingers caught her hand.

"Wait," he said, "Please, don't go,"

Clara sighed, letting herself be stopped by his soft voice which sounded more vulnerable than she'd ever heard him before.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, his thumb stroking her wrist softly "I really did. I…I was just waiting for the right time and I could never find the right words. I know I've been an idiot but please let me explain."

Clara turned and looked at him. He looked desperate and although Clara felt lied to and deceived and upset that he'd keep something like this from her, she knew that she at least cared about him enough to let him explain.

She led them back to the bench he was sitting on when she arrived and they sat down. They looked out at the playground and at the Doctor's son playing happily with some other kids in the big sandpit. Now Clara looked, she could see the Doctor in him. His mass of brown curls, his expressive eyes and thin nose and dimples. His father's son.

"His name is Roland - though I call him Roly, or Roly-Poly sometimes which he doesn't like so much." He breathed a soft laugh and then sighed deeply, his fingers gripping his thigh as he tensed. "His mum, my wife, River, died 5 years ago, just a few days after he was born."

Clara closed her eyes. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry."

He continued. "River and I had been married over 10 years and had always thought we couldn't have kids, so I didn't expect to become a Dad at 50. But, because River was in her mid-40s, there were a lot of complications after the birth and she didn't pull through. So I was thrown into fatherhood by myself and I was terrified. My sister, Missy, has been a big help, particularly when he was a baby as I was still working quite long hours at the hospital. With River gone, it almost hurt to be at home with him."

Clara took his hand that rested on his knee, encouraging him, comforting him. He breathed deeply and curled his fingers around hers.

"I didn't really get to grieve properly at the time, because I had this tiny human that needed me to survive. I soon realised I couldn't commit to both being a full-time Doctor and looking after Roland, so I started to take more of a back-seat role in the hospital, and have only really starting picking things up again since he turned 5 and started nursery, but it's the reason I started teaching more; so I could have more time with him."

The Doctor glanced down at her. "He's my world, Clara. He's the happiest, sweetest little kid who loves spaceships and nature and books and having him has made me a better person."

Clara squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.

He laughed wryly, looking down at their hands. "Look at me," he said "I'm a widower in my mid-fifties with a 5 year old son. If I'm not getting pitied looks, I'm being mistaken for his grandfather." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "I really like you, Clara. You're funny and smart and beautiful and…I guess I was worried that I'd scare you off, that you'd run in the other direction." He shook his head and looked down again. "I don't know - it all sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

Clara touched his face with her hand, thumb smoothing over his cheek, slightly rough with stubble, and waited until he met her gaze. She smiled softly.

"Do you really think that I care for you so little that I'd run away at the fact you had a son?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he leant into her hand. Clara curled her fingers around his ear a little, grey locks soft against her fingers.

"I just wish you'd said sooner, that's all," she said.

He opened his eyes again and then looked out at the sandpit to check little Roland was still playing happily.

"This is all new to me, Clara - dating as a parent." He looked back at her and smiled, turning his body so he was facing her properly, his eyes scanning her face like the was memorising every freckle. She dropped her hand to his. "Since Roland was born, since River died, I've never felt for anyone else what I feel for you," he said, his voice deep and low. "So I didn't know what to do, how to bring it up, how to long to wait before introducing you-"

Clara cut him off by kissing him softly on the mouth, his words echoing in her head. I've never felt for anyone else what I feel for you.

"I understand, Doctor," she said quietly, squeezing his hand, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll go at your pace."

His thin lips curled up into a smile and he nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

He turned his head and looked over at his son.

"Roland!" he called out.

The little boy shot his head up and the Doctor waved him over.

Clara immediately felt tense. What if he hated her? She hadn't thought of that. She didn't want to be an evil step-mother.

The Doctor kissed her cheek quickly, breaking her from her reverie.

"Stop worrying," he said, "He'll love you."

Clara smiled nervously and watched Roland running over to them.

"Dad, I built a massive sandcastle, just like the one you built at the beach that time - can you see it?"

Clara smiled. Roland was clearly besotted with his father, so keen for his approval.

"I can see it! It looks fantastic, Roly." He brushed sand off of his son's t-shirt. "Roland, there's someone I want you to say hello to - this is my friend Clara. She's really cool and also love books and space, just like you."

Roland looked at Clara and she could see the Doctor's eyes looking back at her. He was the spitting image of his Dad.

"Hello Roland," she said, smiling and holding out her hand for him.

His little hand reached out to shake hers as he looked at her carefully, taking her in.

"Hello Clara" he said quietly, clearly a little bit shy. He waited a moment, thinking. "Do you really like books and space?"

Clara grinned. "I do! My favourite thing is books about space! Do you have lots of books?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically, his face lighting up. "I have lots in my room - Daddy reads them to me at bedtime. My favourite one is about the tiger who has tea and the one about the bear who plays piano!"

Clara laughed. "They sound great! I'd love to see them sometime, if that'd be ok?"

"We can go now! Our house is just over there!"

The Doctor laughed, brushing the hair from his son's face. "Maybe not today, Roly - I'm sure Clara has lots of important things to do, but maybe another day…?" he said, looking over at Clara in anticipation.

"Yes, of course I'll come over another day," she said, more to the Doctor than to Roland. The Doctor's soft smile made her heart soar and her chest tighten.

"Roly, do you think Clara likes ice-cream?"

Roland's face lit up again and he looked back at Clara.

"Do you?" he asked expectantly, resting his little arms on the Doctor's long legs.

"Definitely. My favourite is strawberry," she replied "with a chocolate flake!"

"I like chocolate ice-cream best, but I like the flake bit too,"

Then Clara leaned down and whispered to Roland. "Do you think your Dad will buy us some ice-cream?"

They both turned their heads and looked up at the Doctor. He rolled his eyes. "Already conspiring against me," he muttered, a glint in his eyes. "Come on then, ice cream all round."

Roland hugged his Dad's legs. "Thanks Dad,"

"Go and get your scooter, Roly, and then you can have some ice-cream,"

Roland spun on his heel and ran off to collect his blue scooter as Clara and the Doctor stood up.

Clara smiled. "Doctor, he's adorable."

"Well, he gets it from his father, doesn't he?" he teased, making Clara laugh and roll her eyes.

She turned towards him and ran her hands up his chest. "He definitely does - he looks just like you,"

He smiled bashfully, his hands touching her hips.

"You must be so proud, Doctor - you've raised such a happy, polite, clever little boy. I can't wait to get to know him."

The Doctor looked at her lovingly and then ducked his head so that he could kiss her.

"You're amazing, do you know that?" he said, pulling her into his body a little.

Then Roly was back at their sides, scooter in hand. Clara was about to jump away from the Doctor's hold, but Roland didn't seem to notice their closeness.

"Clara, look how fast I can go!" he said, and then was off again.

Clara laughed, watching Roland scoot towards the ice-cream hut. Her heart felt so full. She was being invited into this tiny family - the Doctor and Roland - who had been by themselves for so long and in such upsetting circumstances. But they were letting her in and she didn't want to make them regret it.

She touched the Doctor's hand, her fingers sliding into his. "Let's go get some ice-cream."

More soon! Please leave a review if you can :)