CHAPTER FIVE

They managed to extend their honeymoon for a whole year; a year of adventure and tears, joy and rows, but overall there was a sense of contentment he hadn't dare hope to ever feel. It was safe to say he loved his wife... his Clara.

But like all things, it too had to end.

The TARDIS hadn't presented him with Trenzalore since their wedding, it seemed even his ship had declared a truce in favour of giving him this brief spell of peace and happiness. Right up until the moment she chose to remind him vividly of his destiny by landing him on the ice planet he'd journeyed to before this new twist in his story had begun. There was no waiting mirror image TARDIS here though, no counterpart from the future, just the yawning mass of ice and snow, pressing into him with the memories of what he had become, of what he would do and why he chose to change it all in the first place.

His hearts ached with the thought of it and the Doctor felt tears sting his eyes as he stepped hastily back inside his ship, grasping Clara by the shoulders and ushering her back down the ramp, not willing to allow her to put even a step outside on the hateful ground that held such terrible memories for him. Fearing that it might seal a paradox of some sort around her. He had taken great pains to erase that part of his and her history, he wouldn't allow it to repeat.

"Doctor what are you...?" she queried staring up into his tear stained face with a look of surprise and growing concern, her hand was on his cheek stopping him from moving her further.

"It's nothing Love." He hushed her questions, pulling her to him in a tight embrace. "Just a memory, long since buried." He dropped his lips to her hair, inhaling the scent of her and the feeling of serenity it imbued him with.

"You dear husband, don't cry over nothing." She pointed out still a touch of irony in her voice whenever she called him that which wasn't as often as he'd of liked; but she didn't press further for which he was silently grateful. However it did nothing to assuage the feelings of guilt that swam over him at the reminder of what had so nearly come to pass. Of what he would have done to this impossible woman who'd been mad enough to agree to be his wife.

Her sigh was palpable and he felt her shift fractionally her hands going to cradle his face and force his eyes onto her, a dangerous venture given as how well their minds could link now; but her walls were in place, as were his and she didn't attempt to pry letting him have his privacy. But her expression spoke volumes. "It's time, isn't it?" she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. Of course she'd know, she always knew.

The Doctor leant into her touch, closing his eyes to block out the sight of her tears which had begun to fall. He nodded once, reaching up to clutch her hands, holding them in place. "It's not fair." He breathed, feeling rage lash at him, it was a sentiment he hadn't felt the need to express since his last imminent death when he was a very different kind of man.

Clara leant in close and he felt the brush of her lips against his, forcing his eyes back onto hers. "The Universe has given us the better part of four years Doctor to run from this; to be together. It's more than you expected isn't it?"

"It's not enough." He bit back wondering how it could possibly be enough for her as he kissed her hard; unwilling to admit that this was it, that his time with her was nearly done, that he would hand her over to the monster he might become. "He can't have you. Not yet. Not ever!" He swore pushing her back into the console with the force of his kiss, needing her to understand what he had only before ever hinted at.

"Husband," she warned and he stilled, dropping his head against hers in silent protest, not letting up an inch between their bodies. That word alone had the power to stop him dead, the force and meaning she could put behind it, shaming and challenging him all at once... especially not when uttered in that lilting Gallifreyan of hers. "You can't be jealous of yourself. It's ridiculous." She admonished him.

He felt his fingers grip her tightly in reflex, his anger flashing. "It's not jealousy." He reminded her of their earlier conversations years ago now the first time he had come to share her bed, of the fears for his future self he harboured.

"He'll still be you." She pressed as ever looking for the best in him.

"Maybe." He acknowledged.

"Yes." She insisted, "That was the point of all this wasn't it, to give you something to fight for; something to ground you, to bring you back?"

"You don't understand, the things he did to you..." he trailed off, backing away from her, his hand rose to his mouth as he felt physically sick at the reminder.

Her face hardened and she followed him, reaching out for his hand and forcing him to look at her. "I know." She replied and he stilled, feeling something hollow spread through him.

"How?" he managed weakly, certain she couldn't, how could she stand to be around him if she knew?

"Your nightmares." She admitted quietly, "The ones you don't think you have because you rarely sleep?" she sighed, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand comfortingly. "It's difficult lying in your arms like that, with your mind screaming beside me to block it all out, eventually some of it was going to bleed through."

His expression turned ashen. "I'm sorry." He whispered aghast at what he had unwittingly forced on her, trying to tug himself out of her reach for fear of contaminating her further. She refused to let him go. "You never said..." he accused lightly, hating that in some things she was so much stronger than him.

Her smile was thin, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "What was there to say?" she shrugged, "They were nightmares, the very thought of what you had seen tormented you. What good would dragging it into the light of day do?"

"You've seen him then, you've seen what's coming. The Valeyard." He snapped, angry with her now. "Why don't you hate me, why are you still here?" he honestly couldn't understand it, he'd hoped that if nothing else he could keep the full awful truth from her, unmake it all so that not even the memory of it remained. "He locked you in a cell Clara, he tormented you mind and body. He twisted everything, turned the Universe into his own personal petri dish of misery." He hands were shaking with self loathing and fear... for her, for himself. "You should hate me. How could you not?"

Her mouth twitched and he recognised the quick flash of her own anger. "Because you are the Doctor." She all but hit him with the words. "And because you are my husband." She bit out as if he was exceedingly dense. "For better or worse, forever. Isn't that the meaning of the vows we made, or did you think it wasn't as real for me as it was to you?"

"Even Time Lords allow the breaking of vow when a regeneration results in such a deviation from character." He fell back on facts, unsure of what else he could argue.

"That's a cop out and you know it." She bit back. "I married you knowing what was waiting for me, hell you practically spelled it out our first night together, so don't think I'm walking into this blind. I'm still here because I love you. Because I believe in you and because like it or not I can help save you, especially from yourself."

"You shouldn't have to keep saving me." He pleaded one final time, but her words flooded over him as he let tears fall wondering just what it was he'd done to deserve her.

"Well someone's got to save you so you can go on saving the Universe." Her arms were folded and her breathing was short and sharp, her body language screamed irritation with him, but even in that moment she wasn't able to disappoint him.

"He's a monster." He warned, knowing she understood the true darkness behind that word.

"Then I'll remind him to be the man I married." She promised. "He cared enough to unmake himself, to give us this chance to change his history." She reached out and grasped his hand firmly in hers again. "Actions like that aren't those of a monster and certainly not this Valeyard." She reached forward squeezing his hand in hers. "It's very much a Doctor thing to do."

He felt a sob break him and he tugged her close enough to envelop her in his arms, sliding down her body until he was on his knees, his head pressed against her chest as she held him softly, the sound of her heart beating in tandem with his own bringing him peace. "I love you." He whispered in Gallifreyan against her.

"And I will always love you, no matter what happens."

Clara held his head tightly against her, rocking him gently in her arms and feeling the solidness of the despair he kept tightly wound inside of him give just a little. She needed him to believe her, to believe in him if they were to get through this. She'd learnt a lot these past few years, more about him than she imagined even he realised. Enough to recognise the long buried truth for what it was... The Doctor and the monster he feared weren't all that different. Flip sides of a coin. His best day and his worst. Not that it was an epiphany she needed to share with the remarkable man on his knees clinging to her like a lifeline. He was perfectly aware of the darkness he harboured, of what he was capable of unleashing and like any decent man, he feared it's unfurling.

Of course she would have been an idiot not to admit she was afraid of the prospect of a darker Doctor; of the man she loved ceasing to be and another striding forward in his place, his memories, his hearts, the same damaged soul... all bound to her fragile human one. And she wouldn't break, not if she could hold him together for even a moment longer.

His hands slid to her ass and she sighed closing her eyes; to think there had once been a time she thought of this man as all but sexless, even a prude. He'd get embarrassed at just the mere mention of impropriety... it had all been very Victorian. His teeth pulled up her top so he could press his lips to her stomach, his hands grasping her firmly until her hips were pressed against his chest. As it turned out her Doctor was simply more discerning with who he chose to share his affections... particularly his intimate ones. At which point all bets were off; even she had to blush at some of the moments which had been carved into her memory, when he was quite literally insatiable.

"Just for you." He whispered revealing how in tune he was to her inner thoughts and carefully undoing the buttons of her blouse until he could expose her bra covered breasts to his hungry gaze. That little smile that curved up only one corner of his mouth as he brushed his thumb across them spoke volumes. Clara's head fall back, simply letting herself absorb the sensations he enjoyed creating and pushing aside the still faintly disturbing idea that her lover could quite literally get inside her head if and when he chose if she was distracted enough.

"Am I distracting you?" he chuckled, his hands sliding to her inner thighs, his pout at her choice of attire was almost enough to make her regret not wearing a skirt today, almost... as he deftly unzipped her. Then his hand was slipping inside bypassing her underwear entirely and cupping her between her legs; the heat of his touch forcing a moan passed her lips. The sensation of watching herself flickered behind her eyes, the lust and adoration that flared in him as her body responded, the soft part to her lips drawing carnal desires from him to fill them. Clara gasped her eyes flying open to his in time to see his smirk as he pushed fingers into her tight heat. His use of his mental abilities to elevate the experience had come as a shock the first time he'd tried it years ago now, but it hadn't lost any of its potency, if anything since their marriage vows it had only increased with her new found ability to push back.

Clara attempted just that, mentally sliding her hands along his hard length, the phantom sensation of her mouth wrapping around him. He let out a sharp breath of shock and grasped her firmly, driving to his feet and leaving her offending articles of clothing behind on the floor of the console room as he lifted her up. Instinctively her legs went around his waist kicking off her heels as he pushed them back against the doors of the TARDIS he'd so recently forced her away from. Her back hit the wooden surface hard and she realised he had masterfully broken her mental connection from tormenting him further.

"My wicked, wicked, wife." He murmured dropping his head to her neck and biting sharply against the flesh.

Clara was almost too far gone to care as his mental torture continued unabated, phantom fingers sliding over and into her, his adoration as he worshipped her body becoming all that she could think. She didn't even care that he was still fully dressed whilst all she had left on was her simple lace bra. "I can fix that." He declared his nimble fingers sliding behind her back and snapping the offending clasp free. He clutched her back protecting it from the unyielding wooden doors, pressing his covered hardness into her.

Clara reached between them looking to free him from his restrictive pants; trying as she went to push his distracting litany of words out of her mind as they swept over her, some in English, some in languages she had no hope of grasping; most in Gallifreyan. But he was fighting her, her hands were pushed together pinned above her head by one of his much larger ones at her wrists. Clara arched beneath him at the feel of his teeth on her nipples. This was a side of him he rarely showed to anyone, and only every now and again to her; the side that liked to dominate, to make her quiver and scream long before he'd push inside of her and claim her thoroughly. Possessive.

"Doctor... wait, not here." She gasped as he ground his hips into her, the mental impression of him entering her particularly pervasive and she clutched onto his face tightly. "Please, She'll see." Clara tried one last time, her eyes on the centre console of the TARDIS, the distinct feeling of being watched on the back of her neck.

"She always see's." The Doctor rasped, his lips closing over hers and his tongue duelling fiercely, devouring her. Clara closed her eyes, knowing it was a foolish notion but unable to shake her unease at being so exposed before the ship, even if their relationship was vastly improved. Perhaps if they were just having sex it would have been fine, they had frequently failed to make the bedroom, but this...? the Doctor opened his green eyes onto hers and she felt mesmerised by the depth of them.

"You are mine." The Doctor told her his fingers entering her as if to prove a point as he embraced his most possessive side. "I want her to see." He added and Clara tried not to shudder at the strange duel sensation as her own emotional response to that sentence slid alongside his vastly different one. "I need her to understand." he was relentless even inside her mind as he pleaded for her to submit, to give him this. Clara shut her eyes tightly, giving herself over to the sensations, to her husband, letting him claim control of this, of her, as the rest of his life threatened to spiral so far out of his grasp.

"I'm yours." She conceded for only the second time as he held her this way, whispering his true name between their linked minds like the promise and threat it was. The faint flicker of concern that this dominating, possessive side of him that demanded nothing less than her unconditional surrender might one day be all that was left entered her mind and so his; his roar of outrage flooded her and she bucked at the fury she felt mingling her pleasure with sharp pain. Her eyes opened onto his and he filled her mouth with his, forcing the thought back down inside of her with every brush of his tongue, with every adoring word and touch against and within her. "I love you." She promised him, taking back the thought as best she could; letting her own adoration consume him as his did her.

She came screaming against the blue wooden doors pinned fast by his fully clothed body pressed against, but not into her, as she so desperately wanted. "Please." She pleaded, her body already glistening with the sensations he was evoking relentlessly as she arched her hips into him. Knowing for all his bravado he longed to slide into the welcoming heat between her legs as much as she wanted him there. He pressed his forehead against hers, keeping her hands pinned with his one above her head and letting his free hand trace the length of a leg securing her firmly around him, before pushing her back more insistently into the doors for stability. His now free hand dropped to his pants and the sound of his zipper was one of the most erotic things she could comprehend in that moment. His hand slid back to her ass, grasping firmly and making her instinctively clench her inner muscles; he chose that perfectly timed moment to slam himself to the hilt inside of her and she threw her head back solidly into the wood, a shriek escaping her as her slick core clamped violently down coming hard around him, her poor over stimulated body and mind awash in sensations that had her seeing stars before he had even begun to move.

"My Clara." He swore thrusting hard and fast into her, not letting her down from the heights of her orgasm for even a moment. The barely coherent thought centre of her brain decided quietly to itself, that if this was to be the last time she made love to her husband, to this face or at all... then she was perfectly content for this to be the memory she held of them. He came violently, his own exclamation of surprise was always endearing as he pumped his hips without rhythm for a moment, losing himself inside of her.

"My Doctor." She breathed claiming him, as he finally dropped her hands and she instantly captured his face with them, bringing his mouth to hers and holding her lips to his, taking in every shuddering breath as they came down together. Because that was the great lie of their relationship too... no matter what games he liked to play, he was always hers.

The Doctor gripped the centre console firmly watching Clara retreat into the ship to shower and redress, she glanced once over her shoulder at him, throwing him an easy flirtatious smile that dimpled her cheek and deepened when he met her eyes, before she disappeared and he bowed his head.

She drove him wild. It had been nearly five years since he had found her in Victorian London and again in the 21st Century, a little over a year since he'd married her and he hadn't even begun to explore the depth of his love for the woman. He raised his head and focused on the other great love of his life... to the ship that had been his home, his hearts and soul long before Clara had claimed them. "I need you to promise me Old Girl, promise me that you will protect her. From me, from you, from the Universe." The TARDIS console swooped and answered with a certain irritation that seemed to ask 'when haven't I'. "The Valeyard is coming, maybe Clara's right, she may be enough to hold him at bay for a regeneration, maybe two," he swallowed admitting the truth to his oldest companion, "but I will not survive her loss. That is what will create the monster."

The TARDIS was silent, but not in disagreement, she knew his sulks better than anyone; the depths of despair to which he could sink. "You must protect yourself too Old Girl. From him. Because he won't be me, not completely, the darkest version of me, a madman with a god complex. I want you to abandon him, don't let him use you to destroy everything we have done, all the good." The TARDIS let out a derisive tone and he slammed his hands down on the console. "I mean it. He may one day become the man you knew again, become the Doctor, but until that time I want him to find no shelter here. Do not debase yourself for him Old Girl; he has to walk that path alone."

His hands touched the levers, "Promise me." He pleaded, closing his eyes and waiting for the sentient machine. There was a sound like the rustle of leaves in his mind and the faint feeling of a sigh as she agreed quietly to his plea with no small amount of distaste. "Thank you." He sighed, genuine gratitude flowing from him into the machine, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He stroked her fondly, the relief lifting a weight from inside his mind with the knowledge that whatever might happen his Old Girl would be safe... and so would his wife.

Clara watched nervously assisting where he'd let her, as the Doctor piloted the ship to the source of the signal, back to Trenzalore. The screen flickered to life as the TARDIS bong went off letting them know they'd reached their destination. He pulled the scanner to him and pursed his lips, his mouth forming the words Gallifrey as he watched.

"Are we going down there?" Clara asked quietly, certain the answer was inevitable.

"The whole planet is shielded, even the TARDIS can't get through."

"Does it still read as both Trenzalore and Gallifrey?" she asked, knowing the answer already but wanting him to say it, to acknowledge it and the faint hope she knew he bore.

He gave her a sharp look. "That is not my home; even if Gallifrey survived it is gone from this Universe. That is not my home. It can't be." He bit out, his body rigid with fury and desperate hope that she recognised as he stood tall, straightening his bow tie.

There was a fog horn blast from outside that startled Clara, but not the Doctor he looked resigned to it all now, the faint flicker of excitement pulling the corner of his lips up despite himself.

"What is that?" she asked as he approached the doors and threw them open, beckoning her forward to reveal a huge square spaceship.

"The Papal Mainframe. It's like a great big flying church." He helped her lean out to see the sheer volume of ships from every race imaginable just outside, all of them waiting for something... or someone. "The first ship to arrive, they are the ones that shielded the planet. They can get us down there."

A huge holographic face of a woman appeared projected out from the ship and beckoned to the Doctor with a curled finger. An invitation if Clara ever saw one. "Friend of yours?" she cocked an eyebrow at him and he gave her a little smirk that said 'I'm over a thousand years older than you, I may have gotten around.' If she had been less sure of herself and of his current devotions to her she might have bristled as it was she just rolled her eyes at him and returned her gaze to the still beckoning woman to whom he gave a low bow.

"Tasha Lem." He explained, "The Mother Superious. And she's inviting us on board."

Clara sighed. "Yeah I caught that; why is she inviting us over?"

"Because I asked her to." He fished into his pocket for something and pulled it out holding it in front of her. "Swallow this."

Clara popped it in her mouth and did as requested. "What is it?"

He was smiling at her, "You know most people would ask that question before swallowing it." Clara shrugged, despite her better judgement she trusted her at times ridiculous husband. "It's a hologram projector; clothes projected directly onto the visual cortex." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You can't go to church with your clothes on." He smirked at her incredulous look and popped one in his own mouth.

He turned from the door as their ship was pulled inside the Papal Mainframe and Clara followed him back to the console as he fretted about the controls. "I need you to hide something for me." He asked, shirking out of his clothes to reveal... well an identical set of clothes. Clara followed suit, looking down to find herself bare but oddly clothed. It was a strange sensation.

"I still feel naked underneath." She admitted, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Everyone's naked underneath." He quipped with an eyebrow wiggle that she tried not to laugh at, "Relaxing isn't it." He smirked, reaching over and patting her bottom, "If it's any consolation you feel it too." He winked at her and she stepped out of his grasp.

"What do you need me to hide." She muttered, knowing she was likely to regret asking.

He dropped down to his jacket and pulled out the TARDIS key from his breast pocket holding it out to her. Clara raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Despite appearances, I'm naked, where the hell am I supposed to hide that?" His eyebrows danced suggestively his eyes lighting up for a moment as she swept behind her.

"Oh I can think of a few places." He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her tightly against him for a brief moment before letting his hands rise to her shoulders and up into her somewhat longer hair which she had taken to letting flow loose in natural waves. "Here will do fine." He kissed the back of her neck and she closed her eyes, he had made no secret of how much he preferred her hair this length, quietly she agreed particularly when he was running his hands through it.

"Fine." She muttered, disappearing around the console to find a mirror and fix her hair into a deliberately messy up do, letting a few soft curls fall and frame her face. She held out her hand expectantly to him and he stalked around behind her, slipping it into her hair and lingering a moment with his hands on her shoulders. "It will be ok Doctor." She reminded him and he sighed, pressing a kiss to her apparently clothed, but still naked shoulder.

"Shall we?" he held his hand out to her and she accepted it gratefully, as ships went the Papal Mainframe didn't look the most inviting. As they stepped out of the safety of the TARDIS and into the cold metallic exterior to be instantly escorted by armed guards she gripped his hand a little tighter.

"So what type of Church is this?"

"Well the Church of the Papal Mainframe are like the security hub of the known Universe."

"A security church?" she paused trying to absorb that idea.

"Yep. Keeping you safe in this world and the next." He quipped as they made their way passed an array of soldiers and what she assumed were priests, or nuns, towards the woman who's projection had beckoned them in. The Doctor did a fancy bow beside her, "I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious." Clara glanced at him and in response to his slight head tilt she performed a quick perfunctionary curtsey.

The gentleman beside her nodded at them. "Welcome to the Church of the Papal Mainframe. Your nudity is appreciated." Clara balked slightly at that, wrapping her arms around her waist, but the Doctor was on fine form it seemed, grinning at the Mother Superious widly.

"Hey babes." She greeted him and Clara inwardly sighed, typical.

"Loving the frock." He commented on her somewhat severe black number as she looked him up and down.

"Is that a new body?" her eyebrow arched in obvious appreciation, "Give us a twirl."

"Oh this old thing?" he obliged giving a spin or her, "Please I've been rocking it for centuries."

Tasha smirked, "Nice though. Tight."

Clara cleared her throat. "Hello. Also here." She elbowed the Doctor sharply in the ribs.

The Doctor smiled and she felt the brush of his mind against hers, amusement at the notion of her jealousy clear as day, which only irritated her further. "Clara this is Tasha Lem, the Head of the Church of the Papal Mainframe." He introduced them, Clara assumed that would be it, he was surprisingly cagey about revealing more about her or their relationship, particularly for a man that claimed he wanted the Universe to know she was his. "Tash," Clara felt his hand slip into hers, "May I introduce my wife, Clara Oswald." And just like that she stood corrected.

There was a flash of something in Tasha's eyes, something predatory, before it was replaced with unfeigned shock. "A new wife. Well well Doctor, aren't you just full of surprises today." Her eyes were entirely on him and Clara got the distinct feeling she was being dismissed, which suited her fine, people often underestimated her, the Doctor preferred it that way.

"Very well then, we'll go to my Chapel." Tasha raised her arms addressing the assembled, "All honours in place, no sacrifices required." Wonderful... Boss of the psycho space nuns with the power to sacrifice them had a thing for her husband and here she'd thought it was going to be a bad day...

As they walked along the corridors of the vast ship following Tasha Lem, the Doctor's hand remained firmly in hers. "It was Tasha who shielded the planet." He told her what she already knew but he was saying it loud enough to drift to the woman in questions ears, "But you could sneak me down there, couldn't you Tash?" Clara realised with no small amount of horror that he was actually going to attempt to be charming.

She stopped at a set of grand doors, spinning on them. "I would have conditions." She admitted before her eyes went to Clara who instinctively stood a little straighter, not that it helped, the woman still dwarfed her. "I have confidential matters to discuss with the Doctor, would you excuse us?"

Clara opened her mouth to respond but the Doctor beat her to it. "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Clara." She expected him to back track, maybe to realise that this woman clearly wanted him alone for a reason and that it might be wiser to play along. When he didn't she felt compelled to take matters into her own hands.

"Doctor." She sighed, patting his hand and releasing it from hers, "Why don't you two go have a little chat, I'm sure I can find something to amuse myself." She turned giving the Doctor her back, but he caught her arm.

"Don't go anywhere with anyone... and don't let anyone trick you into a confessional." He whispered harshly into her ear, pressing a quick kiss there before following Tasha into her private chapel the door swinging heavily shut behind them and making her wonder if she'd done the right thing after all.

The Doctor strode into the room, his eyes scanning it intently as his mind tried not to dwell on Clara separated from him. It was of course the right call and one he should have made himself. His eyes fell upon the centrepiece of the room. "That altar looks like a bed." He declared, eyeing Tasha.

"That bed looks like an altar." She quipped back, her dark eyes searching his face as he hopped up onto it, finding it remarkably comfortable. He accepted the goblet Tasha handed to him and tasted the blue liquid before hastily spitting it out as it danced along his rather more unusual tastebuds like burnt rubber.

"Your new wife seems quite lovely Doctor." She smirked and the Doctor felt a flash of irritation that he kept masked entirely behind a veneer of childish innocence which Tasha at least was more accustomed to seeing. "Perhaps a little tame for you're more... adventurous tastes though, don't you find?" clearly he needed to work on that face.

The Doctor placed the chalice containing the vile blue liquid down on the wooden headrest. "And what would you know of my tastes?" he let for just a moment his age press through and saw her recalculate, relocating Clara from pawn to Queen on the board of their private chess match. It hadn't been his intention to reveal himself so blatantly and he silently cursed himself and Clara for making him utterly unable to control his emotional responses when provoked about her.

"What happened to the Professor of archeology?" she queried. "That one at least I could understand the attraction to."

The Doctor felt his fist curl for a moment as Tasha sat down beside him, too close for comfort.

"Till death us do part." He replied quietly. "I fulfilled my obligation." That at least seemed to quiet the incessant woman for a moment.

But only for a moment as she continued to probe. "And Clara...? I'll admit perhaps I've heard a rumour or two Doctor about your newest associate." Her smile was thin but her eyes were alight as she refused to call Clara his wife quite deliberately it seemed and he rounded on her, challenging her to admit the rumours with a quirk of his delicate eyebrows. "The woman twice dead?" she smirked when he stiffened fractionally. "An impossible girl?" He must have looked surprised because she patted his leg in sympathy, "Come now Doctor you were hardly subtle in your, shall we call it obsessive search to find her."

He shrugged suppressing the urge to hit himself hard in the forehead with an open palm, after all no one would ever know the full extent of what Clara had done for him, how truly impossible she was and he had no intention of enlightening the Universe.

"Tell me Doctor, do you love the girl, or are you merely in love with the mystery surrounding her? The irresistible puzzle that calls to your minds need to solve her?" She was leaning in, her sultry gaze daring him to kiss her, to prove that Clara was what she suspected and giving him an out to undo this mess he had gotten himself into. Because whilst he did trust Tasha Lem, to a certain degree in that he knew what her goals were, he wanted the Universe to be crystal clear on his position on Clara. But more than that he wanted this woman's entire blasted church to know it and to fear it. He wouldn't allow what had happened to his last wife to happen to Clara.

He met her stare with a cold one of his own. "I know what she is; I solved the mystery long ago." He declared. "And I know what she is now." He narrowed his gaze at her. "She. Is. Mine." He bit out making sure to enunciate each possessive word clearly as the threat it was and make sure this occasionally psychotic woman got the message that Clara was not on the table for discussion.

Tasha didn't flinch, just stared impassively back. "Then it must have been some mystery Doctor." With that parting remark she leant quite deliberately across him to touch a panel on the headrest and the signal that drew him and her to this location played out across the room. She leant in closer to his body, both of them naked beneath the holographic projections that fooled neither of them and he allowed himself a moment to remember a time when he might have found her alluring, or at the very least a distraction.

"That message is transmitting through all of space and time. What did it make you feel?" her question was far too specific to be idle but the Doctor played dumb anyway.

"Feel?"

She gave him a look that suggested she wasn't fooling him, but played along all the same. "Every sentient being in the Universe who detected that signal felt something. Something overpowering." Her lips drew in close, until they were almost sharing a breath as she attempted to illicit a response from him.

"What?" he queried quietly, perfectly aware.

"Fear. Pure unadulterated dread." She almost seemed to relish the way he didn't even flicker.

"Right. So what is the signal? Where is it coming from?" he pushed passed her getting to his feet and breaking the tension she had created.

Her eyes trailed him hungrily but she was perfectly composed as she stood, "It's a settlement. Human colony, level two... it's a farm, basically."

The Doctor absorbed that, his resting place would be a farm. Not quite what he'd been expecting. "Right." He rubbed his hands together letting excitement bleed through at the prospect of the adventure that awaited despite its unwitting end. "So has anyone been down for a look?"

Tasha shook her head. "Any one ship lands, the rest will follow. There will be bloodshed. Fortunately we got there first, shielded the planet. We maintain the truce by blocking all of them."

The Doctor nodded. "Daleks, Cybermen, one of that lot could break through your defences, it's just a matter of time." He frowned, aware that the echo of Clara's heartbeat in his mind was beating hard and fast as his own pair increased to match it.

"Perhaps," Tasha admitted, "But they're afraid, remember? Nobody wants to go first."

The Doctor leant in, letting her see the answer dancing in his eyes. "I do." It was a lie of course, this planet was the last place he wanted to set foot, not now if he ever did. But he must, if he was to die, he'd rather enjoy the ride.

"I was counting on it." Tasha smirked clearly delighted.

Clara crashed through the chapel doors, her heart pounding her breathing laboured as she came to a halt staring at the confused face of the Doctor and the faintly amused one of Tasha Lem. Clara pulled up straight, staring behind her bewildered as the doors slammed shut.

"Clara." The Doctor was at her side instantly his own hearts no doubt beating in tandem with her elevated one. "What is it, are you okay?"

"What?" she queried her heart rate levelling out as she tried to remember what on earth had caused it to race in the first place. "I'm fine, yeah fine, sorry." She shook her head as if trying to remember something on the tip of her tongue. The Doctor took her face in his hands and locked his eyes on hers, she felt him sink fractionally into her mind, finding only the mild traces of panic lingering and the sense of something forgotten.

"Confessional priests." He muttered. "The Silents always did give me the creeps; at least I think they did, can't rightly remember it either way." He added kissing her forehead. "I told you to avoid going to confession." He added, taking her arm and leading her further into the room.

"Right , well if we might continue. This is my personal teleport." Tasha announced briskly crossing to the back of the room and drawing back a curtain. "I can put you down just outside the town." She pointed a finger at him, "I want you to find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour. And on your life Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there."

Clara watched the Doctor pop his head into the teleport box behind the curtain as she hopped up onto the bed, swinging her crossed legs. "When do I ever cause trouble..." both she and Tasha rolled her eyes at him, "Right don't answer that." He pointed Clara to the other box beside his as he tried to draw the curtain, only for Tasha to stop him her hand out palm up, expectant.

"What?" the Doctor snapped, clearly feigning innocence.

"I'm not an idiot. Everyone in the church is trained to see straight through holograms."

Clara felt a momentary jolt at those words and felt her cheeks colour slightly as she glanced down at her not so 'clothed' self. "Ah. Great." She muttered, although she'd half suspected the Doctor could see through hers she had hoped he was an isolated incident.

"Give it, now. You are taking no technology of any kind down there." Tasha insisted and the Doctor rolled his eyes, reaching beneath his holographic clothes to reveal the TARDIS key on the chain around his neck.

"What can I do with a key?" he glanced at Clara, his eyes flashing for just a moment to her hair and she deliberately ignored him. "Clara, inside now!" He barked at her and had the good grace to appear mollified by her cross look, "Please?" He added and she chose to let it go hopping down from the bed and stepping into the box beside his.

"You could summon your TARDIS." Tasha reasoned.

The Doctor scoffed. "The TARDIS doesn't work by remote. But fine, if it makes you feel any better." He pulled it over his head and reluctantly handed it over to her waiting palm which closed around it with no small amount of glee. Clara pursed her lips, not wanting to know why he trusted this woman with the key to his ship as Tasha began pushing controls.

"Remember," she addressed the Doctor, "I want you back in one hour."