CHAPTER TWO
He was insatiable, it was the conclusion Clara came to as she clutched her hair, back arching as she tried to contain her scream as his fingers tormented her. He didn't seem to be able to relinquish an inch of her skin, which given as a few hours ago she'd had no idea he had any thoughts about her or her skin one way or the other was something of a pleasant surprise.
Her scream tore free with a strangled sound and he collapsed onto the bed beside her, grinning from ear to ear as he placed a possessive hand across her stomach whilst she tried to calm her breathing. She wanted to wipe the smug look off his face but she figured he'd earned it so she simply leant over and kissed him. Pulling away before he took the chance to deepen it again as she settled into the crook of his arm, feeling exhausted down to her bones, her whole body still trembling faintly against him.
She didn't know where today had come from, or what had prompted his sudden decision to express feelings he'd apparently been harbouring for her for some time, but she was far too pleased he had. After all she had never kept her attraction to him all that subtle. But then neither had he, despite his beliefs. No one who felt entirely platonic towards the woman they had dragged into their 'snogbox' felt the need to touch her constantly. In hindsight perhaps he always had been more than a little obsessed with her skin.
"So." She sighed, placing a palm over his surprisingly hairless chest and feeling the unusual, somewhat unnerving reminder of his alienness, as his tripping double heart beat pulsed beneath her fingers.
His fingers ghosted through her hair. "I may have been overly enthusiastic." He smirked not in the least bit apologetic for the state they were both in.
She smiled kissing his chest as she glanced up at him, surprised at just how content he looked, how still... the Doctor was never still. "I think you were just the right level of enthusiastic." She confessed.
He chuckled. "Good to know my efforts are appreciated."
"Very much." She closed her eyes, feeling his arms wrap tightly around her and pull her against his warmth. There were questions of course, 'what happens next?' 'why now?' 'what can we possibly be to one another?' 'was this just a onetime thing?' 'had they ruined it all?' but she rather imagined that he'd purposely left her too far beyond exhausted to care about them in this moment.
"Sleep." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked keeping her eyes firmly closed.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be." He replied quietly and she accepted it for now, letting her tired body drift quickly into a deep sleep, filled with the sound of his tripping double heart beat.
Clara didn't expect to awake to find him sleeping. Staring at her perhaps, or redecorating her flat, maximising the photosynthesis in the local park, constructing a temporal telegraph out of her toaster maybe... but not simply sleeping. He was still holding her she realised feeling a strange thrill as she looked over her shoulder and found him there, she hadn't expected to see his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his fingers splayed across her stomach, legs entwined. So she took the rather unique opportunity presented to her and studied him still like this, the sunlight was just starting to brighten behind the dark curtains and she could see his features clearly. Alien was quite possibly a word invented just to describe the man in her bed. A mass of contradictions, and yet like this, apart from that heartbeat of his, he seemed utterly unremarkable. His body bore no scars of the endless conflicts she knew he had seen, his skin no wrinkles of the immeasurable time he had spanned. His face wasn't even particularly handsome, in fact it sat somewhere just on the border of odd; but there was character to it, something beguiling that invited you to look again, to draw you in, something she found utterly irresistible. That was the biggest lie of all of course, his face... because it wasn't really his at all; and yet somehow it was always unmistakably him.
There was a hesitation in his breath and she smiled warmly, knowing he was awake. "See something you like?" his corny comment made her cringe, but he didn't even bother opening his eyes just smiled knowing she was watching and leaving her relieved that his flirtatious tone hadn't vanished overnight. Knowing now how quite in tune he could be with her emotional state she reasoned he'd probably done that on purpose to reassure her.
"I'll let you know." She replied rolling over and snuggling closer to him as she buried her head in the crook of his neck and tried not to think about what the day might bring.
"I don't think I've been this still in a long time." He spoke quietly, as if it was a secret whispered into her skin. Clara sighed and laced her fingers with his, admiring the fit and doing the one thing she'd promised herself just about a thousand times that she wouldn't... falling in love. Cliché she knew. But last night he had certainly surprised her, although she didn't know why that would be, he was good at everything, except maybe dressing himself, why would sex be any different? If she was slightly besotted with him before she didn't dare evaluate the feelings running rampant through her now as he passed the morning-after test with flying colours. "You have a way of calming my thoughts." He admitted and she glanced up to find him staring intently at her ceiling. "Well..." he smirked, stroking quite deliberately across her bottom. "Focusing them at any rate." She chuckled and closed her eyes.
She had just started to drift off when he spoke again, "Something dark is coming Clara." She didn't outwardly respond but she was suddenly quite awake, that tone never did bode well.
"How do you know?" she asked when he didn't offer anything more.
He sighed, that weary sound of a man who had seen too much of life and found it wanting. "I found Trenzalore." He admitted. "At the proper point this time around."
"I don't understand...?" she hesitated, she'd thought the threat of Trenzalore was done, but of course he would still die there. Realisation trickled in, how were you supposed to react when the man you've just decided it might be ok to fall in love with, even just a little bit, tells you he's most likely about to die.
She imagined the slap she landed on his chest was justified as she shot up to glare soundly at him. "So your wakeup call was imminent death! That's all it took for you to confess your feelings for me?" her tone had taken on a distinctly waspish quality that she didn't like to hear but couldn't stop.
He hadn't attempted to move, just lay there impassively staring up at her, accepting her ire apparently. "I didn't want to die with all of this unsaid." He shrugged. "I'm a coward Clara, sometimes it takes a push for me to fight the instinct to run that I've been obeying all my life."
"What about me?" she pressed feeling something stick in her throat painfully. "How am I supposed to go on after this?" She indicated the two of them lying together like this.
"What if I said Trenzalore wasn't the end... not truly. Not yet." It was cryptic, but she failed to see how that could happen, he had to die on Trenzalore, they'd seen it.
"You'd regenerate?" Clara asked confused.
"I believe so, not quite sure how yet, this should be my last face but I had an interesting meeting which has led me to believe I will somehow leave Trenzalore changed... but alive."
Her mind picking up on what he'd said before, "You said something dark was coming?"
"He is." The Doctor replied letting the ominous connotations of that sink in.
"You're next face?" she asked uneasily seeing his expression darken further as he sat up, propping himself against the headboard and holding out his hands for her, she hesitated for a moment before taking them. He tugged her forward into his arms, leaving her little choice but to slide onto his lap where his hands instantly went to her hips letting her knees fall either side of him in a somewhat dangerous pose which was clearly intentional on his part, given as they were both still entirely naked.
"You'll be there on Trenzalore." He admitted and Clara nodded, raising her hands to his cheeks.
"Of course I will." She promised.
"It wasn't a question, it was a statement." He corrected, grasping her hand and removing them from his face to hold them pressed tightly to his lips. "You'll survive it." He looked grim, "But the me that follows..." his eyes shone momentarily and she wondered if he was close to tears. "I need to make sure you'll survive him."
Clara narrowed her eyes, she'd seen enough of this man's guilty conscience to last a lifetime, he never could seem to accept that he wasn't the monster he thought he was, not just anyway. "Don't be ridiculous, he'll be you, it's always you. However buried, or different, or mad, he'll still be you." The 'you wouldn't hurt me' seemed redundant so she didn't say it, not least because it wasn't always true, certainly she didn't think he would ever deliberately set out to hurt her, but he'd more than likely put her in harm's way, because that was just his life.
"What if he's not?" He asked her firmly, his green eyes boring into hers and making her doubt her resolve for a moment, but he captured her lips before she could finish the spiralling thought, his hands sliding along her back crushing her breasts between them.
"Doctor?" she managed to get out around his mouth, but he was insistent on stopping this conversation it seemed and she wondered just what it was he'd seen to have gotten him so riled. His fingers slid between them and rubbed her gently, it was an effective distraction as she lost mostly coherent thought as he slid a questing digit into her with purpose. If he had wanted to draw it out last night he was certainly in more of a hurry this morning, she felt the pressure of an orgasm building as she held him tightly against her, surrendering her breasts to his mouth when he abruptly withdrew his fingers leaving her bereft and all but reeling before he grasped her hips firmly, in one swift move he was buried inside of her and she came violently around him with the sudden shock of it. He laughed lightly, the sound comforting as she tried not to collapse over him. His hands guided her hips deftly from where she sat straddling him, finding a rhythm for her that she could take over, lifting herself enough so that he was sliding almost completely out of her with each roll of her hips against him. One of his hands lifted to cradle her face, forcing her eyes on to his.
"I want you to remember this." He hissed, gritting his teeth in determination to hold himself back as she rippled her inner muscles tauntingly. "Remember how much I want you," he kissed her hard, in an instant flipping them so that he had her back pressed against the bed and he was the one rolling his hips into her. "How much I need you." He added his lips taking hers as words deserted him.
"Doctor." She whispered her head thrown back and her body arching beneath him, his mouth took the invitation as he latched onto the column of her throat with his mouth, sucking hard as his tongue flicked out, tasting her, biting until he marked her she realised, she wondered what she tasted like to a pallet that found fish fingers and custard delectable. His tongue found her nipples and he swirled them delicately, stealing conscious thought as his teeth gently teased until she could feel her inner walls beginning to ripple around him in delicious contractions as the wave of yet another orgasm passed over her. She didn't know what it was that possessed him in that moment but as her wide eyes still riding the pleasure he had driven her too found his, she felt his forehead connect gently with hers and those eyes seared straight into her soul. Her mind parted for him as easily as her legs had and she bucked at the sensation, feeling the pleasure still coursing through her growing and swelling as his thoughts latched onto it, found the areas of her mind creating it.
His own thoughts swirled through hers, his desires mixing until they become a torrent inside of her and she was left screaming his name desperately her body on fire her mind ablaze with desire as she came again and again, losing track of his hips as they drove into her his pleasure becoming her own and she became aware of the sound of her fragile human heart thumping wildly in her ears as she fought to process the overload.
There was a clear instruction in her mind and her eyes opened onto his, as he raised his hand to her face. "You see what you do to me?" He breathed in disbelief as he emptied himself into her with abandon, keeping her in the moment as her mind all but railed at the sensations he bore, his feelings for her. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she blacked out in his arms.
Slowly her breathing calmed, her heart rate slowed as she became aware again and she blinked, once, twice, her dark eyes opening onto his as he pulled her onto his lap, holding her in the comfort of his arms.
"Are you ok?" he whispered against her temple as her body responded to his barest touch and aftershocks continued to race through her, leaving her trembling against him.
"Will be." She breathed surprised to find her voice at all as she clutched at his hand and dropped her head into the crook of his shoulder, pleased to feel his heartbeats were as erratic as hers. "I know I asked you to show me the stars Chin Boy... but warn a girl first." He was smirking she was certain of it as she raised her eyes to his, seeing a hint of sadness there which seemed wholly out of place.
"That was Oswin." He reminded her gently and she closed her eyes, dropping her head back to his chest with a sigh.
"Same difference." She offered quietly.
"I didn't hurt you did I." He asked, sounding alarmed that she had clearly passed out.
"No, of course you didn't." she reached up brushing his cheek trying to reassure him, before sighing and closing her eyes her limbs still like jelly. "I've just never experienced anything quite that intense before... so that was Time Lord sex huh?" She laughed lightly, "Wow."
He was smiling against her skin, she could tell as he kissed her shoulder. "Well it is something of a cheat I suppose to directly manipulate the pleasure centres of your mind and then link it to my own... but for some reason no one ever seems to complain about it."
"Smuggness is not an attractive quality." She muttered, feeling his arms tighten around her as he drew her body more comfortably against his side. Then he fell quiet for some time, she wondered if he was just giving her time, but more likely his mind was whirring; which seemed to be answered by his next question.
"You remember things about Oswin and the others?" He asked hesitantly and she sighed, he was always a little uncomfortable when she accidentally said something or referred to something one of her Echo's had done as if it was her own life.
"Sometimes." She settled on ambiguity.
He nodded, his fingers rising to brush through her hair, his next question seemed much more cautious when he finally asked it. "Do you remember much of your life, lives I suppose, as a Time Lady?"
Clara considered his question as he brushed the hair from her face, his curious stare enough to force her into the recesses of her mind. "Like I said, sometimes." She shrugged getting a jumble of images and feelings for her trouble, clearly her answer wasn't quite what he'd hoped for if his disappointed expression was anything to go by, clearly he thought she was being evasive and she didn't want to ruin the moment so she delved a little deeper, trying to vocalise the confusion. "If I am focused on something specific, like a memory it becomes easier, the memories flow, they become more than just another woman's they start to be mine; but it usually needs a trigger of some sort to allow me to reach the memory in the first place."
He nodded, "Impossible Girl." He whispered, kissing the end of her nose the adoration in his eyes she didn't think she was imagining. "Do you remember then, across all of your memories what it means to be the first face a freshly regenerated Time Lord see's... and the last?"
His question frightened her as half forgotten memories tumbled over themselves to present her with a notion. "Imprinting." Was the word her addled brain came up with and he nodded seemingly pleased with that.
"Yes. Think of it like a fingerprint left all over the psyche of the regenerating Time Lord's mind. If that face is combined with strong memories, feelings from the predecessor then it becomes their touchstone, their anchor to life itself. The Time Lord way of ensuring mate bonds survive the regeneration process."
Clara blinked. Mating. She was mating with an alien, it did sort of put it into perspective when he called it that, but she started dimly to identify where he might be going with this. "So if you die... feeling something for me, your successor will too?"
"My feelings for you would never simply be gone," he tutted at her as if it was ridiculous to suggest the alternative. "But in instances like that, my successor won't just feel them, he will be consumed by them, it will become his very reason for existence, you will be central to his entire being. And with regeneration energy coursing through him it will modify him to be exactly what he believes will keep you at his side."
It was a heady thought, and something of a responsibility she imagined, the mere thought of you shaping the man he would become. "Has it happened before, with a Companion I mean?"
He smiled sadly. "Once, her name was Rose. My Ninth self died saving her, but my Tenth self would and did move heaven and Earth for her. She became lost to him though," he sighed, "to me." He acknowledged "And I became a bitter, lost old man convinced he had the right to make the Universe dance to his tune. I made some terrible mistakes in my anger."
"I'm sorry." She attempted to console him, twinning her fingers with his above his hearts.
"Not your fault." He sighed wrapping his arms around her more firmly. "I never got to hold her like this," he admitted, stroking her skin, "Or kiss her properly, tell her how I felt, or even say good bye." He added quietly, "I think I loved the idea of her, what she represented, the bond making it impossible to see reason where she was concerned." He kissed her hair. "But I don't think the two of you would have gotten along." He added and Clara glanced up at him, frowning, "She was the jealous type." He commented, "But also brave, funny, curious, awed by just about everything I showed her, street smart I suppose, desperate to flee a life she that was choking the light out of her." He added as if an afterthought. "All of that the Ninth passed on in the imprint to his successor but you see to him she had been salvation, so Ten, he kept on thinking she would be his..."
"What are you saying?" she whispered, more than a little unnerved now.
"I am already more than a little in love with you Clara, me myself, no regeneration influences at all. Can you imagine what I am going to pass on to my successor, the imprint you will make in his mind, the bond he will seek to forge?"
She swallowed nervously. "You've seen him, haven't you?" she asked unsure if he would answer.
His fingers threaded through hers. "I saw a possible version of him." He conceded.
"And?" she pressed not able to keep the tension, despite her near exhausted state, from bleeding through; all this talk of him dying was hardly romantic pillow talk; or of his ex-loves for that matter and they hadn't even broached the topic of his dead wife.
"And I have taken steps to ensure he doesn't become again." His words were final and Clara considered what he'd told her when she'd asked what had bought all this on the night before... on Christmas day. He'd called it a wakeup call; apparently his future self had driven him desperately almost feverishly into her arms and her bed. It made her even less sure she wanted to meet this future self than she was now, which was saying something because the thought of losing this version of him, chin and all, seemed unbearable.
If in doubt, deflection always worked well. "Your snogbox won't be pleased if you keep throwing the 'L' word around." Clara murmured smiling at his snort; letting him know she hadn't missed his declaration mostly backhanded as it had been.
"Nonsense, the Old Girl adores you now your paradox is all resolved." His arms tightened reflexively, but the joviality seemed to bleed out of him a little as he grew still. "She'll look after you, even if I'm not around, I need you to trust in that Clara."
Clara rolled her eyes. "Trust the box that used to vanish the bed with me in it, produce hologram leopard's to chase me down the corridor, turned off the gravity whilst I was in the pool. Oh and once for seemingly no reason at all turned all her walls transparent whilst I was taking a shower to give me that wonderful thrill of thinking I was about to tumble into outer space, butt naked."
He was smirking again which she considered a job well done. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."
"You are a mad man." She supplied. "But as nice as this is, I need to get up and use the bathroom and do other human things that don't involve you or this bed." She rolled out of his arms and gingerly got to her feet, glancing back to find him staring with a rather pleased expression on his face. "Go do something useful... like make breakfast." She instructed, "Ideally without disassembling and reassembling every appliance in my kitchen."
He gave her a mock salute with a grin. "You're the boss."
Now she knew he could cook she supposed she shouldn't have been all that surprised when she emerged from the shower to the smell of bacon. Slipping on her robe she entered the kitchen in time to see him grinning as he flipped pancakes and seemed to consider whether or not he could flip the eggs before deciding against it.
"Smells good." She commented as she sat down, impressed that he'd made her a cup of tea as she gripped it warming her hands. He placed a ridiculously high stack of pancakes in front of her, strips of bacon dividing each one and a fried egg sat proudly on top. "Wow." She managed realising that was the second time he'd reduced her to uttering the word today and quietly wondering if she'd ever given the impression she could possibly eat that much.
He smiled sliding an even higher plate in front of himself as she sat knife and fork raised with a huge grin as he lifted up a jug of what she assumed would be honey... or syrup only to see a thick creamy liquid emerge and slop all over his plate. Clara winced. Bacon, eggs, pancakes and custard, it didn't quite have the same ring to it.
"That is disgusting." She laughed lightly at him, "this though," she skewered her fork in it, "is delicious."
They spoke about nothing and everything, it seemed easier she supposed than discussing what they had done, what had changed and his apparent reasons why, or his impending death.
"Will you travel with me for a little while Clara?" He asked as she pushed her plate away unable to take another bite.
"Don't I usually?" she quirked an eyebrow at his suddenly rather coy question.
"You give me Wednesdays." He corrected pushing his own plate away and leaning forward to take her hand in his, those green eyes of his locked on her somewhat accusingly.
"And you always skipped to them." She smirked, seeing his slightly guilty look and knowing what she'd always suspected was true. "So you think one night of mind blowing sex is enough to make me pack all this in and run away with you...?" she half teased.
He ran his fingers across hers, reminding her just what he could do with them, his eyes alight. "One night and a morning...yes." She hated that he was probably right.
"Maybe." She settled on, after all he did have a time machine, you could run off for months and still be back in time for tea, if that wasn't an excuse to escape the sometimes monotony of everyday life then she didn't know what was. Even though that was exactly what she'd done, mostly to preserve her own sanity, there was only so much of the Doctor's world you could take before it started to jade you to the simple pleasures of an Earthbound life, of the 9 to 5 work day. Plus she hadn't exactly wanted the temptation of being with him every day, trying not to succumb to the most foolish of impulses and actually develop feelings for him... because that had clearly worked out so well.
He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her and leant in for a kiss shattering her illusions further of just what little willpower she had left, "Like you could resist this?"
The Doctor couldn't help but feel a little smug when she didn't protest the suitcase he started packing for her. Although she did unpack most of what he threw in and added her own more careful selections. Standing at the end of her bed, one massive suitcase packed, hands on her hips he felt her indecision keenly. He slid his arms around her waist, dropping his chin to her shoulder. "I can bring you back whenever you need." He assured her. "No time need have passed at all for your family or your students if that is what you're worried about."
Clara sighed wrapping her arms over his. "No it's fine, I've rung my Dad to tell him we're going away for a Christmas break. School's off for a couple of weeks I won't be missed for a while, you can bring me back then, however long it actually turns out to be."
The Doctor felt his hearts perform a little flip. "However long?" he was smiling as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'll take that challenge."
He of course carried the bag into the TARDIS, trying not to bound into the thing and look like a complete fool in front of her quietly poised self as she followed him in, a soft smile on her face. He failed he realised as he bounded up to the console and began pushing buttons. "We need to get you a room."
"I have a room." She reminded him and he frowned.
"Yes but not big enough for all these clothes, it didn't even have bunk beds." He added with distaste.
"Or a bed at all half the time." She muttered almost low enough that he didn't hear it and he paused a second giving the TARDIS console a frown as he recalled just how 'unfriendly' his Old Girl had been. Odd given the lengths she would one day try and go to help Clara.
Clara however seemed willing to let it go as she smiled, coming to stand beside him, "Are you quite certain you want me to have my own room?"
He glanced sideways at her, honestly confused. "Where would you sleep?" It took him, to his shame, a ridiculously long time to grasp what she was getting at even with that seductive little smile of hers dimpling her cheek. "Oh, right, yes." He laughed quietly at himself, "I guess this will take a little getting used to." He'd switched almost to autopilot as he'd entered his ship, a Companion at his side ready to start an adventure, their bags packed.
Her hand went over his stilling his movements. "If you're uneasy I can keep my own room here, if you want we can share that?"
He shook his head, hating his own ineptitude at times, he'd made her uncomfortable within five seconds flat of agreeing to this unusual 'relationship' with him. The Doctor turned, dropping her suitcase and lifting one hand to stroke her face tenderly. "I'm sorry, just not used to well," he pointed between them, his hand cupping her cheek. "This." He admitted. "And I've never shown anyone my room." He added quietly and she seemed to pause so he ran what he'd said through a filter and considered how it could have been misconstrued. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share it with." He added, genuinely surprised to realise it was the truth.
"What about your wife?" Clara asked delicately and he admired her boldness.
"My ex-wife is dead." He reminded her, dropping his hand from her cheek to run it delicately down her arm and take her hand. "But no, River had her own room and frankly she never did stay on board long, and I rarely sleep."
"Doctor." She stilled him with a hand to his chest. "We don't have to do anything your uncomfortable with. Yes our... arrangement has changed," he frowned internally at her use of the word rather than 'relationship' but let it go, "but that doesn't mean we have to rush into things. We're already practically cohabiting, maybe that's fast enough."
He sighed running the hand that wasn't gripping hers firmly through his flop of hair and despairing at his Time Lord brain. Without hesitation he ducked his head and kissed her soundly, cradling her face and trying to convey his meaning. "I'm thick is all, notorious for it." He muttered, "Never can get anything right first time. So let me be clear Clara Oswald; I want you in my bed." He hadn't meant it to sound quite so forceful, or so erotic but her widened eyes and his suddenly deeper voice were sending off signals all of their own. Her breath hitched just slightly when he kissed her again, his arm trailing down her spine to wrap firmly around her waist and press her closer. "This isn't a joke Clara... nor a dalliance. I don't do those." He insisted feeling ridiculous having to explain what had no doubt been perfectly obvious to her the moment she set eyes on his bumbling self this regeneration round. "So when I say I want you in my bed... I want you in my room, my home, my life, my hearts." His green eyes pierced hers and he considered brushing her mind to let her feel the force of his conviction on this. Time Lords never did things by halves, they were all in or all out that was just the way of it, the way they were built and he had most definitely jumped all in.
Clara blinked, pulling away from him and to his surprise, turning her back on him as she grasped the centre console for support, her head bowed breathing shallow. He wondered if she was crying. It certainly hadn't been his intention. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, feeling her tense momentarily before relaxing against his touch.
"Am I frightening you?" He whispered, aware he should perhaps back away, give her time, but found he was utterly unable to release his gentle hold on her.
She shook her head. "No... it's just." She paused and he realised she was staring into the TARDIS matrix as though asking it for answers. "I don't know why I'm surprised, you never do anything in half measures; it's always all or nothing with you. Why would this be any different?" he opened his mouth to speak to acknowledge that was exactly it when she spun in his arms, lifting a finger to his lips to silence him and revealing glassy, but not wet eyes to him. "But I knew that Doctor. I knew the moment we kissed what I was getting into with you."
Her finger retreated and he found his voice again. "Which is why you only gave me Wednesday's before." He nodded suddenly it was blindingly clear, she had been protecting herself from him, from being consumed by him and his way of life.
"And now I'm giving you more." She reminded him pulling him out of the slight melancholy he felt himself slipping into.
"In my room?" he asked hopefully, flashing her what he hoped was a boyish grin. He wasn't sure why this meant so much to him now, but it was the idea that she somehow thought he wouldn't want her there that rankled; that his idiocy had made her think that for even a moment was abhorrent. From the moment he had committed himself to this course of action with her, the moment he had accepted his feelings for her, there had been just as she had realised, no second thoughts or doubts. He wanted her, needed her... loved her. Perhaps it had taken her near destruction at his own hands to realise it and he was notoriously slow at times, but he knew it now. If this was an act that helped her understand that then he was committed to it.
Her eyes rolled, but she seemed to visibly soften, taking her hand in his offered one again. "If you're certain, then I'd love to."
"Perfect." He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Clara nodded as he bent to retrieve her suitcase, giving her hand a gentle tug and pulling her along behind him not wanting her to grow hesitant as they made their way. "I should explain about River." He attempted and she looked down avoiding his eyes, as he reopened the wound he'd just mostly successfully closed, but better to deal with it all now.
"You don't need to do that, I know enough of your secrets; you should have the right to keep some at least." She replied, brushing aside his attempt to ease the situation and reminding him how unique she was, even for him.
"I want to." He admitted, steering them deftly through the corridors, heading deeper into the TARDIS towards his bedroom. He explained briefly River's unusual conception and how she had been stolen away to be raised as a weapon to kill him. "My bespoke psychopath." He smiled warmly at the memory, taking a right past the swimming pool. "But marrying River, it was an inevitability, I met her at her end and was convinced she would become my wife because of what she said, the things she knew. And when it came right down to it, she held all of time hostage in her steadfast refusal to accept my death; it took me marrying the woman just to get her to listen to me."
"But you loved her." Clara pointed out astutely and he was forced to remember she had spent considerable time with the woman in question inside her head.
"Yes. I loved her." He admitted coming to a stop outside of a door that reminded him eerily of the one his future self had locked her within. "But it is possible to love someone in spite of yourself, and against your better judgement." He added quietly, he squeezed her hand tightly. "River and I were like fire and gasoline... volatile and dangerous; we bought out the worst in one another."
He caught her chin, making sure she was listening intently. "You make me a better Doctor, a better man. From the moment we first met I saw that; even an Echo of you was able to rescue me from my darkest place." He told her what had been evident from the moment she had let him into her life. "With you I can finally find a sense of peace." He leant in close his lips brushing hers, hesitating to see if she accepted his truth, and finding only her slightly surprised but pleased expression, he kissed her letting her feel the promise in it. In the words he didn't dare say aloud just yet, because there was no certainty she would be able to return them in this moment. After all of from her perspective this was sudden despite his arguments and he was just grateful he had managed to convince her travel with him for longer than a single adventure.
"Thank you." She offered, brushing his cheek with her own small hand and he turned his head kissing the palm of it.
He unlocked the door and held it open to her, "Clara Oswald, welcome to my sanctuary, my little piece of Gallifrey."
Clara awoke in deep red satin sheets, her arm reaching out to find the bed empty and she rolled over, sighing and staring up at the stars swirling and dancing in the ceiling, a galaxy of lights above her head, looking out into infinity. Very apt.
He had warned her last night that he needed very little sleep, that if she should wake to find him gone it was not a testament to her, but to his own restlessness. It was still a little difficult not to feel a flicker of disappointment however, but she was surprised to realise quite how much she wanted to wake in his arms. Two nights with him and she was already putty in his hands, she was certain feminists would have been disgusted with her, but she had held herself in check for an entire year which she thought should have earned her points.
But she had to concede that she was impressed he trusted her enough to not only let her in his room, but to leave her alone entirely to explore it. He'd said it was a piece of Gallifrey and as she wrapped the sheet around herself and took in what she'd been too preoccupied to notice yesterday she felt memories stirring. Red grass... the distinctive smell of the fields seemed to permeate the room and the sound as the wind rushed through them, she could almost hear it. Her hands lightly brushed the artefacts, some were works of art, some technology, other's merely nick-naks and mementoes, all of it from his world.
There was one corner though she noted that he kept something else, his friends she realised; a picture, a jacket, a pair of glasses, a notebook, a stethoscope, a wedding veil, all of them a piece of his history spent with those human beings who'd been brave or just mad enough to follow him. Long gone, but never forgotten; like the world he still allowed himself to cling to in the privacy of his own thoughts. She'd never quite understand what it was he saw in them, or in her, his human Companions; oh she had some idea, perhaps it was as a touchstone to keep him connected to the wonder, like he claimed. Maybe other times it was to forestall the loneliness. Maybe they really were the equivalent of pets that he could grow fond of and teach new tricks, nurture them into something more. Perhaps it was just to act as his audience and assuage his ego. Or to give him something to fight for, to remind him the Universe wasn't always darkness.
She supposed it could be all or none. He was over a thousand years old and he'd travelled further than any of them, back and forth in time on a whim. Even amongst his people he'd been a wonder, a legend, an oddity... 'Other'. Rumours and whispers had plagued him his entire life. 'One of these things is not like the other' her memory tingled with it and she pushed it away. It was the notion that had sent him to the stars, wanting to see and interact and explore, to live a life unrestrained by their failings and their cowardice.
Asking 'why her?' would have been trite. Right place right time, fate, self fulfilling paradox? It didn't matter. For some reason the Universe had decided she was the one to be there in the moment to do what was needed, to save the Doctor and so doing save itself. Her life was utterly mixed up in his now, this impossible man and his Blue Box, off to see the stars. She'd been fooling herself to think it wouldn't affect her, that she would be able to keep her life on Earth and here somehow apart; she had become that 'other' thing, the human being who's eyes and mind had been opened. Changed utterly by flying too close to the sun on wings made of wax... except he'd always catch her, bring her back to Earth so she could pretend to be like the rest of them. To be satisfied with one world, one life, one galaxy; a life lived in small steps of triumph instead of glorious leaps of wonder.
She'd hated him for that a little. For showing her the Universe and making her aware of everything that she was missing; all that the human race was missing. For opening her mind and her memories to a lifetime of worlds, of lives, of loves and deaths through her Echo's. All of them with a singular purpose and a passion, 'to save the Doctor'. The instinct still reverberated around in her skull, voiced by a thousand Echo's even if it was she who had set the call; they carried it still. She wanted more. She wanted him and he had given her both. It was enough to make anyone's head spin.
Clara entered the console room to find him stood hunched over a grim expression on his face as some sort of sound played out through the speakers.
"What are we listening too?" she asked lightly as she joined him on the opposite side of the console. He gave her a warm but sad little smile and flicked the sound off.
"Nothing, just background noise from a sun that went supernova."
Clara nodded accepting that until the view screen in front of her came to life all by itself and the sound once more came blaring out the TARDIS speakers. Her eyes tracked the information as best she could, the TARDIS seemed to be extrapolating it for her, 'would wonders never cease'. Apparently the Old Girl didn't like him keeping this from her.
"It's a distress signal of some kind." Clara looked up seeing his ashen features and immediately crossing to him, she stood inches from him, "What is it really?" she pressed him, "Please don't lie."
He sighed heavily, head bowed. "Well go on then, since you're so keen on showing her, why don't you identify the name of the planet this signal is originating from." He growled angrily at his ship, pushing a few buttons himself before the TARDIS seemed to do just that and he spun the view screen back to her.
Clara hesitated reaching for it. He didn't want her to know what this was, that was clear and she trusted him. She pushed it away without looking. "I trust you." She replied, "If you think I don't need to know, I don't." He gave her an unfathomable look and gently swung the viewer back to her.
"You should know." He admitted quietly.
Clara hesitated before looking at the viewer and absorbing the words there as the TARDIS dutifully identified the source of the signal, it was a planet, populated by a colony of humans in the far future. But that wasn't the interesting part, it was the name, the name of the planet that had clearly turned the Doctor ashen. "So this is Trenzalore." She whispered feeling lead settle in her stomach, when he'd said he'd found it at the proper time, she hadn't realised quite what that meant. Clearly he was supposed to respond to this signal, as so many ships already had if the long range sensors were correct because she was picking up just about every ship imaginable. Then the designation for the planet flickered just for a moment it read something else entirely. Her expression must have reflected her sudden shock because the Doctor was beside her.
"What, what is it?" he pressed, looking at the screen but it had gone back to the original.
"Gallifrey." Clara told him seeing his expression darken at the mention of the word.
"What?" he asked waspishly, his temper never was good when it came to his planet.
"The planet's designation, it changed, just for a moment. It became Gallifrey." She stepped out of the way to give him the viewer and together they watched the name Trenzalore unblinking until she almost began to believe she'd imagined it. Then it flickered. 'Gallifrey'.
The Doctor almost had his nose pressed against the viewer. "That is not Gallifrey." He hit the console hard. "That is my tomb and this is the trap that lures me there." He moved as if electrified, throwing buttons and levers until he was pitching them backwards in time, away from this point, the signal followed she noted, but it didn't seem to stop him, he was clearly determined to run from this.
Gently she placed a hand on his arm, trying to still his frantic movements. "Doctor, I don't think this is something you can run from."
He laughed, actually full out laughed, turning to grab her and pull her tightly into a hug that lifted her off her feet. "Oh you watch me run Clara Oswald, you just watch." He placed her back down and caught her face in his hands, manic energy radiating off him and into her through his dancing green eyes. "I ran from my death once before, from Lake Silencio, from the fixed point where River would kill me. I ran and ran and for two hundred years I cheated fate." He kissed her but it was a desperate thing that revealed the full extent of his fear and she held onto him tightly wanting to offer him some measure of the comfort he seemed to find in her arms.
"I'm not ready yet." He whispered and his voice cracked over the words as he dropped to his knees, sliding down her until she was holding his head against her chest rocking him lightly.
"Then it's a good job you have a time machine." She stroked her fingers through his mass of hair, soothing his overworked brain. "It'll still be there when you're ready." His arms tightened around her waist.
"I love you Clara Oswald." He spoke the words forbidden between them into her stomach and the tension seemingly bled out of him with the confession off his chest.
She supposed there really was no point in secrets anymore, in holding back, she'd already fought with herself on a near daily basis about the wisdom of falling in love with the man, not that it had helped. She'd jumped into oblivion for him, it hardly needed to be said. "I love you too."