CHAPTER SEVEN

"Barnable, how's your father's barn?" the Doctor questioned the young man following along with him eagerly.

"You fixed the leak all right, but he says it's bigger on the inside now." The boy stared up at him wide eyed with a wide grin.

"Shush, everyone will want one." The Doctor laughed before he was abruptly cut off by the sound of the wheezing time rotor that cut through the still night.

"What is it? What's that noise?" Barnable scanned the area, ever alert, his whole life spent waiting for the next unknown monster to crawl out of the depths of space to challenge the Sheriff of Christmas.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and took in the sight across the way of his ship, his beautiful blue TARDIS slowly materialising, with it came a pang of remembered pain for the last time he was inside it, the last time he'd held her. He hobbled towards it using his cane lightly, his aching limbs protesting as he hurried forwards, anger and relief flooding him. "Well!" he roared at the box, "Where the hell have you been for three hundred years? Huh?" he called out to it in accusation.

"What is that?" Barnable kept pace beside him.

"It's my ship."

"Your what?" the boy queried and the Doctor realised that he had been here so long that people didn't even remember he was a visitor here once upon a time, the passing of time more than anything pained him, it was time stolen from him, time he would never have with Clara.

"It's my TARDIS. That's how I got here in the first place." He explained to the boy, not slowing down.

"Does this mean you're leaving?" the boy pulled up short, watching the box now with trepidation his accusing eyes on the Doctor. But as the TARDIS fully materialised, clearly struggling against something he lost his voice, every word he intended to speak to the boy vanished as he took in the form clinging onto the outside of the box, one hand gripped tightly around her key in the lock, practically frozen to it.

Hesitating and wondering if his old mind was playing tricks on him after all he raised his cane and tapped the back of the apparition gently with it. There was no movement as he stepped closer coming alongside to see her slowly turn her face, ice crystals had stolen her colour but her eyes were wide and furious and he would know them anywhere. "What are you doing here?" he managed to get out more sharply than he intended, his anger in this moment clouding even the joy at seeing her again.

"I was in space." Comes her trembling half dazed reply and he reaches forward, his arms going around her to peel her off the edge of the ship, the moment his hands touch her body his hearts flair to life and the flicker of her mind brushes his with glorious familiarity. He should have known he realised when her hearts rhythm remained the same for so long, as if frozen; should have known it was more than distance interfering with the link, that she had 'ceased' to exist for all this time. His impossible girl, of course she wouldn't simply let him go without a fight.

"You were in the time vortex." He explained quietly, taking hold of her as much as his unsteady limbs would allow. He glanced at his ship, "She extended the force field to protect you." He clutched her closer thanking the Gods that his ship could protect her even when he couldn't. "No wonder she's late, she's been dragging you around for the last three hundred years." Anger touched his voice and seemed to touch a nerve, or awaken one in her. Clara's hand connected solidly with his cheek and he winced, holding the stinging skin and half afraid to meet her fierce gaze as her white hot fury effectively begins to thaw her out.

"You tricked me!" she accuses and he feels his jaw tense, his lips drawing into a thin determined line, he almost wants her to shriek at him, but her voice his quiet and utterly livid.

"I saved you!" he snarled back, unable to forgive himself that he appears to have failed at doing that.

Her hand rises again and he catches her wrist as they stare into each others eyes which are both narrowed in anger, their breathing heavy, he can hear her heartbeat pounding in his ears and knows she longs to tear him limb from limb almost as much as she wants to hold him. "You abandoned me." She accuses one more time and his mouth opens and closes, speechless, the touch of his skin against her wrist is lighting a fire within him, a fire he has kept deliberately quelled for centuries. Even now his clever eyes are waking up, taking in every inch of her face hungrily, starved of the sight of her for so long.

"Till death Doctor." She reminded him and he flinched, "Wasn't that the promise we made to each other?" her accusation stung almost as much as her hand and he dropped his head and her wrist.

"Not yours." He admitted, "Never yours." His voice broke and he heard her sigh.

Her hand found his cheek and he wanted to pull away, to let her have her anger with him, after all she deserved it, but he couldn't he was selfish still and her touch was like a soothing balm as he leant into it. "What's happened, how long has it been?" she asks him gently clearly she had been too frozen to hear is earlier quip, but he is aware of the anger still lingering beneath the surface, he knows this from experience, but it is tempered by her concern for him. He lifts his head and see's her eyes scanning him almost as carefully as he had her. But where he had found nothing but perfection he wonders as her eyes linger on the obvious flaws he has developed, on the wear and tear, the grey flecking his hair, the long lost smoothness of his skin... the cane he rested lightly on. Regret and shame was like a living breathing thing in him. He was old, even for a Time Lord, this body would fail him eventually give or take a few more centuries, the idea that he might be the one she had to watch die of old age was as ironic as it was heartbreaking and he saw the moment she realised it too.

"Three hundred years." He told her weakly and he caught her trembling hand with his own as it almost fell from his cheek with shock.

"No." Came her soft but plaintive cry as she covered her mouth with her other hand, realisation alighting in that wonderful mind of hers. "It can't have been more than ten minutes since I last saw you." She whispered, her eyes dropping to his face her fingers brushing the lines there, feeling the calluses in the hand that held her close.

"Oh Clara." He whispered, wishing he could take the pain he see's clouding her eyes, the way her heart is tripping suddenly painfully against her chest, his own hand rising to her cheek, her perfectly smooth skin and the slight bow of her lips as wonderful as he remembers them... and he has spent years simply remembering them. But people were approaching and he turned glancing back at the village which had become his home. Here was not the place for this, not with enemies potentially lurking in the shadows, waiting for a weakness to expose itself, looking for a way in, looking for Clara. He gripped her hand in his, "Come with me?" He asks her quietly making it a question because he's not certain she would obey him if he made it a request. She nods once and he draws her hand into his, pulling her lightly behind him as he leads them towards the clock tower he has lived in for so long, but can never consider home... because she wasn't there.

He watches as she entered his simple dwellings, her clever eyes taking in the drawings and his workbench. "Oh Doctor," she sighed smiling faintly, sadly, looking back at him and he feels a slight swell in his chest at the love she holds there despite the still brimming anger he had known she wouldn't forgive him for. "Fixing toys and fighting monsters. How very you." She admits as she walks further into the room, clearly noticing the prominent pictures of her; some just her face, others her smile, or her eyes, even her hair. His heart catches as her fingers graze the ones he keeps hidden behind the others and her eyes catch his in slight surprise at the ones where he has drawn her nude. Perhaps the old him would have been bashful, but he just looks at her trying to convey his longing, his love, knowing they are already there for her to see in every little detail of her body recalled and reproduced here. Her fingers linger over them and he sees her feint but terribly sad smile, how well she knows him; but they are all he had of her and he treasures them, surely she can see that?

He follows her as she moves until her eyes settle on the crack in the wall, her arms cross her chest and he simply admires the way the eerie light from it frames her; unable to believe for her it has been only moments, whilst he has waited so long, it is almost more than he can bare to see her like this again, like a starving man who'd been living on the most meager of rations suddenly being presented with a feast. He is all but drowning in the sight of her, the smell, the touch... his fingers reach out for her shoulder, drifting down her spine as her gaze remains on the crack. "Is it still asking the question?"

"Oh it never stops." He admits sadly, letting his fingers drop away with regret. Her head turns and he feels pinned by her gaze, the hope in it still.

"Come upstairs." He asks her again, waiting for the moment she will refuse him only to find it never quite appears, "It's almost time." He explains drawing her upwards by her hand to the bell tower. They step out onto the wooden expanse looking out over the village his fingers intertwined with hers once more and he stares down at them, wondering if she can feel the way his hearts have begun to beat at just her nearness, her touch.

"What is it?" she asks staring up at him rather than outwards and he raises his head to meet her curious expression.

"Dawn." He admits, lifting his hand to her cheek and brushing the soft skin of her face, his thumb drawing down to brush over her lips in a remembered gesture. So much had faded from his life before, but not this, not her. Of her he hadn't let himself forget a single moment. "The light here lasts only a few minutes." He explains drawing them both closer to the small fire burning in the chamber that he stoked, he lifted the blanket he kept up here and gestured to her to turn, letting him drop it over her shoulders. His hands lingered drawing her hair out and letting his fingers trail through the long tousled brown locks. His memory had failed him after all he realised with a stab of pain, he had forgotten just how beautiful she was... how right he felt next to her. Perhaps she notices, feels the utter desolation in his realisation of this because she lets out a sob and buries her head in his chest.

"You old fool." She sobs and his arms instinctively tighten around her. She says nothing else and he lets her cry quietly against him, but she didn't accuse him further or ask him why again... for all her pain she understood, how could she not? She'd been waiting for Trenzalore to take him from her almost as long as he had.

"I have missed you, so much." He breaths the simple yet utterly consuming thought into her hair, pressing a kiss there. "Clara." He sighed out the word with contentment as she pulls back looking up at him. Her hands go to his face, her own thumbs brushing over the more worn skin, examining him before she gently pulls the back of his head down and he could have cried with relief as her lips found his. He kisses her like the three hundred years it's been, his aging body suddenly lighter as he presses her back against the bell tower, losing himself in the feel of her that he had long thought lost to him. "Clara, my Clara." He moans against her, his hands sliding over her body, comparing what he finds to his memory and once more coming up short. He had thought he had memorised her so completely, but he is bereft when he realises how much of her he has let fade away.

The light changes and he breaks the kiss, drawing her forward into his arms to let her watch the sight as the village is bathed in the glow of the all too brief dawn as bird song fills the air for this faint window of time. Her breathing hitches as her eyes reflect the light. "It's beautiful." She admits clearly captivated.

But his eyes are not on the dawn, but on her. "It is nothing compared to you." He whispers and she turns in his arms, their lips find each other again and he lets her guide him back to the wooden bench, his knees buckle as they reach it and he lands heavily, his hands at her waist as she slides onto his lap.

"Three hundred years." She reminds him needlessly, even if it hasn't been for her she seems acutely aware of his growing need, however shameful, as she lets the blanket fall from her shoulders and he looks away concerned at what she is seeing.

"I'm an old man now Clara." He admits, letting his hands fall away from her sides, not sure he can bear to see her look at him differently, humans never were good with age gaps he recalls.

"You were always an old man." Clara replies quietly, "I married a 1200 year old remember, what does it matter to me if your suddenly 1500?"

The Doctor lifted his head to stare at the remarkable woman on his lap, still not quite sure why on Earth she put up with him at all, why she was forgiving him. "I'm starting to look my age Love." He sighs, surprised when her lips brush his gently.

"Hush." She whispers, her hands sliding over his chest and pushing the jacket from his shoulders. "You are my husband and it's been a very long time hasn't it?"

The Doctor grasped her hips firmly arching his own upwards into her, letting her feel just how long it had been. "I might be a bit rusty, did you bring a manual?" he asks her only half joking. She rolls her eyes and in one swift move pulls her thin jumper over her head and leaves his eyes transfixed with the sight of her lace covered breasts, his throat goes dry. "Actually, it's coming back to me now." He quips, lifting his hands to the offered globes and moaning almost as loud as she does when he encloses them in his firm grip. Perhaps it is not the most appropriate, or safe place to be having this little reunion, but he could no more stop himself now than force the sun to rise again.

Had he been a younger man perhaps he would have drawn this moment out, savoured it for all it was worth; but he was almost frantic in his need for the woman atop him as he slid his fingers into her wanting her to want him too and delighting in the way she threw her head back for him, a soft litany of incoherent words falling from her lips. Her hand encircles him and he bucks into her, her firm grip nearly too much and he pulls away, in no time at all he is lowering her over his aching member; sliding into her felt like he was finally going home for the first time in centuries. "Clara." He all but cries out, straining every inch of his control over that peripheral blood system of his to ensure he didn't simply come then and there. Her lips find his as she began to move over him as his hands gently guide her hips, pulling her against his chest to increase the skin on skin contact he so craved.

"I love you." She pants quietly against his lips the words setting off fireworks in his dusty chest, "Never forget that." She clenched suddenly around him and he bucked violently, not willing to let this end as he reached blindly between them, finding her centre and rubbing furiously as she moaned, continuing the delightful torture between her legs, her inner muscles stroking him until he exploded violently into her wet heat. Her final spasms as she clutched him to her were almost a relief as he dropped his sweating brow to her shoulder, listening to their twinned hearts beating out a staccato as they both trembled in release, the cold long forgotten.

Clara accepted the blanket gratefully as he pulled one around himself and leant forward, not releasing her from his arms as he roasted the marshmallow in the open fire, grateful for the warmth against the frigid air, her body still humming contentedly to her with his pressed close to hers, as if he couldn't bare anymore distance between them. Her heart ached and anger flared at just the thought of him alone here for 300 years, the Doctor should never be alone, it was one of the great truth's every companion of his learned, she knew it better than any of them. But she wasn't spiteful enough to let her anger sully this moment for him, even though deep down she knew he'd rather she wasn't here to see him like this, to see the deep sadness in his eyes and in the slight stoop of his long frame and she pushed away the impulse to cling desperately to him.

"Where did you get these?" she asked him focusing on his hand as it held a gooey sweet to her mouth, hesitantly she blew on it before taking it into her mouth and closing her eyes in delight at the sensation as the sugar exploded against her tongue. His finger lingered against her lips and she opened her eyes onto his, seeing the adoration in his eyes and wondering how it is possible for it to have grown further, she'd never imagined he could look at her with more before.

"I have a supplier." He admits, popping one into his own mouth with almost as much glee. "The pink ones are best." He adds conspiratorially, offering her one such pink one with a sly smile that is almost too much for her and she wraps her arms around his neck, inhaling him and just enjoying watch she knows is a fragile moment of peace.

They settle into each other's embrace, watching the fire crackle, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets and the afterglow of sex and Clara tries to forget that he has forced the distance of years between them, because she knows as much as she hates it, that it wasn't his choice. "So what do you think of my new place?" he asks more than a little hesitantly, his hands brushing her arms gently, almost reverently.

"It's beautiful." She has to admit, the sun dappled image of the snow capped village she was sure would linger in her memory for some time.

"I come up here once a day for a few minutes to remind myself of what it is I'm protecting." He explains with a hint of melancholy and a touch of something she things is close to contentment.

"And how is that going... protecting this town?" she asks, reaching up to touch his worn face with no small amount of concern, clearly it has taken its toll on him here.

"Well, it's a standoff. They can't attack in case I unleash the Time Lords, and I can't run away, because they'll burn this planet to stop the Time Lords. Hey, after all these years, I've finally found somewhere that needs me to stick around. A town called Christmas. Could've been worse." He tries to quip but she isn't laughing.

"I needed you... to stick around." She whispers, hating that she couldn't keep it to herself as she sees the heartbroken look he gives her and his arms wrap tighter around her as he buries his head in her neck.

"Please." He pleads and she doesn't know what for, whether it's forgiveness or not, or if he simply wants her to let them have this moment.

"Do you really think sending me away was for the best for me?" she finally breaks and feels tears splash her cheeks. "Or was it what was best for you?"

He buries his head in the top of her hair, his breath warm and welcome there. "You'd have been stuck here too and I couldn't bury you, not here, not ever." She hears how unacceptable an option it is to him and it doesn't soften her much.

"I would never have let you get stuck here." She counters, desperate to think she could have altered this fate in some way if he'd only let her try.

"Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually, Clara. Everything ends." There is a deep melancholy there that she doesn't even know how to touch, he had promised them forever, she believed it still; however foolish that was.

"Except you." She reminds him quietly. "We can still change the future Doctor, it doesn't have to end here, not now. You've got your TARDIS back." She manages a slight smile catching his face and trying to will energy back into him, the will to fight this rather than accepting his fate.

"You really think I'm just going to fly away, abandon everyone?" he gazes down at her, a flash of disappointment that she could clearly think so little of him clear on his features and she blinks until she remembers it's been centuries for him, perhaps he has forgotten...

"Of course not." She sighs, exasperated and desperate to draw him out of this desolation, she has never seen him so defeated and yet stubbornly victorious. "But you've been protecting this town for over three hundred years. Don't you think it's somebody else's go yet?"

"There is no one else to protect it." He counters sadly.

"It's not going to be you forever. This will end the same way, whatever you do." She reminds him, if he truly is accepting this destiny then he must surely accept that as well. "We've seen it." And it would remain that way if he was unwilling to change it.

He shakes his head and pulls her closer, the fingers on both his hands finding and looping through hers. "Every life I save is a victory. Every single one."

"Damn it Doctor, what about your life? Just for once, after all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?" she pushes away from in with aggravation, her chest suddenly heaving with the flash of anger; but his weary features and those big sad eyes of his are like a punch to her gut as he seeks to draw her back into his arms once more, desperate to keep this moment. Clara sighed, "I'm sorry. We shouldn't be arguing, not now, there's no point, we're just wasting precious time."

He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed the palm, "Clara Love, I've been having that argument for the last three hundred years, all by myself."

"But you didn't have Old Blue." She tries one last attempt to sway him, knowing that nothing will, he wouldn't have sent her away if anything could.

"Ah. Yes, well, that made it easier to stay. True." He sighed pressing a kiss to her lips before he looked up suddenly as thunder rumbled deep in the darkening sky.

A familiar voice boomed out. "Doctor!"

"Ah look who's woken up." He sighed, dropping her face from his hands and pulling the blanket tighter around her, concealing her modesty as the holographic face appears in the sky.

"The Church of the Silence requests parlay. Your rights and safety are sanctified." Those huge eyes round on Clara who stiffens fractionally surprised that the Mother Superious seems unaffected by the passage of time.

The Doctor grins back, his arm sliding around her shoulders. "Me and the Missus will be right up." He calls back.

"I'm sending a transporter." Tasha replies.

"Nah, don't bother. I've got me motor back." Tasha gives a nod and the image vanishes, leaving the sky to darkness again and Clara blinks surprised to realise it has gone dark.

"The Sun's gone down already?" she asks hesitantly, she hadn't imagined it was so brief, even after his warnings.

"Yes well, as I said my Love, everything ends. Sometimes sooner than you think." He pulled her up to her feet as they quickly dress, apparently there was no need to be naked for a private audience with the Mother Superious for which Clara was quietly relieved.

They made their way back to the TARDIS and she paused at the sight of the small hand gripping onto it from behind. Clara raised a questioning eyebrow to the Doctor who merely smiled and walked around to find the seated young boy.

"Are you guarding my TARDIS, Barnable?" The Doctor asked and Clara sighed he always did have a soft spot for children, which was probably what had helped her to trust him so quickly herself. He was just never so good at keeping his promises where they were concerned.

"Are you coming back? Barnable asked quietly, not quite daring to be hopeful she noted.

"Oh, come on. You know me." The Doctor avoided answering directly.

"I'll wait." Came the boys response and the Doctor patted him on the head lightly, ushering her gently into the waiting TARIDS.

"They always say that." He replied sadly to himself and she felt the need to squeeze his hand gently.

"Because you're worth waiting for." She reminded him, seeing that sad little smile brighten a little as he punched in the short hop coordinates up to the Papal Mainframe.

The Doctor resisted the urge to take Clara's hand as he strode through the corridors, trying to rely on his cane as little as possible; he didn't want to seem like a weak old man in front of her, not if he could help it. His fingers slid into hers unbidden anyway and he saw her satisfied smile. It had been three hundred years he reasoned since he'd been able to touch his wife... he thought he'd been remarkably restrained given the circumstance. But then his body still sang with the feel of her, perhaps his restraint was less well deserved. After all what was there to fear inside the Papal Mainframe, they already knew her relationship to him, why deny himself the simple pleasure of her touch? One he'd denied himself for so long already.

They entered Tasha's private chapel. "She hasn't aged much." Clara whispered looking a little unnerved at the other woman.

"No, she's against ageing." The Doctor replied cryptically ignoring Clara's look that suggested he'd need to expand on that point one day. The Doctor pulled out a chair for Clara at the big ornate table beside his as he seated himself at the end. Tasha dropped his goody box in front of him and he grinned with delight, peeking inside.

"Satisfactory?" Tasha inquired as she took her own seat opposite him.

"Where are the pink ones?" he snapped the lid shut giving her a small pout, she knew those were his favourites.

"E numbers. You're hyper enough as it is." Tasha chastised and he rolled his eyes, pushing the box away slightly.

Clara looked between the two of them a frown growing on her face. "So, this is sweet. Middle of a siege and you two have little chats?" there was an edge to her voice neither of them missed and he reached out once more for her hand, entwining her fingers with his and staring intently at Tasha as she gave Clara a thorough once over. Tasha over the years had deliberately never mentioned his wife, despite the times when he had to his shame gone off on a tangent about her, or the days when his melancholy and the simple unending ache in his chest for the woman he loved refused to abate. He often thought she wanted to forget Clara even existed, which was a ridiculous notion, she was his every other thought.

Tasha's smile was thin. "So good of you to join us again Clara my dear. And you haven't aged a day."

Clara smiled back just as thinly. "Likewise."

The Doctor cleared his throat, not wanting to have to get between a cat fight if he could help it. Particularly because he rather thought it would be one sided in Clara's favour and he wouldn't have been able to contain his glee; she packed one hell of a punch as he recalled.

"Yes, she is quite right though Doctor, this situation cannot continue." Tasha conceded.

"It can't end either." He pointed out.

Tashsa let out an exasperated sigh. "Why did you ever come to Trenzalore?" she snapped seemingly genuinely curious and the Doctor marvelled at the effect merely having Clara back could have; the two of them had been avoiding this dance for centuries and one minute in his wife's presence and Tasha was ready for the heart to heart, as if to give the impression it was a regular occurrence. His thumb brushed the back of Clara's, seeing her expression remain completely unfazed, whatever Tasha was doing it wasn't effecting his wife in the slightest and he smiled gently before answering her.

"Well, I did come to Trenzalore and nothing can change that now. Didn't stop you trying though, did it?" he couldn't help but accuse, the wounds were old but deep and he pointed a warning finger at her.

"Not me." Tasha rolled her eyes at his ridiculous accusation. "The Kovarian Chapter broke away. They travelled back along your timeline and tried to prevent you ever reaching Trenzalore."

Clara snorted. "Well that worked out well." Tasha gave her a withering look.

"So that's who blew up my TARDIS. I thought I'd left the bath running." The Doctor quipped having long ago deduced that fact the moment he realised the Papal Mainframe controlled Trenzalore.

Clara leant in closer to him. "So they went back to change time by blowing up the TARDIS and ended up creating the very cracks in the Universe that the Time Lords are now using to cause so much trouble in the first place?" he smiled, it was too good to hear her voice again and he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it gently.

"The destiny trap. You can't change history if you're part of it." He called out in a sing song voice reminding Tasha of something he really shouldn't have to.

"They engineered a psychopath to kill you." Tasha pointed out as if admiring the ingenuity.

"He married her." Clara pointed out rolling her eyes but not in the least bit phased.

The Doctor however was, "Since we're being so honest Tash, I should thank them I suppose, I'd never have made it here alive without River Song." he stared back intently at Tasha, who blinked slowly for a moment as if clearing her head.

"Yes well I'm not interested in changing history, Doctor. I want to change the future. The Dalek's send for reinforcements daily. They are massing for war. Three days ago, they attacked the Mainframe itself." She delivered this bombshell of information with only a trace of irritation.

"They attacked here?" The Doctor sat up straight dropping Clara's hand in surprise.

Clara stared wide eyed at Tasha, "How did you stop them?"

"Stop them?" Tasha laughed darkly, "It was slaughter."

The Doctor absorbed that quietly feeling like he was missing something as his eyes started scanning. "Why didn't you call me? I could have helped." He snapped at her.

"I tried. I died in this room, screaming your name." Tasha all but accused and the Doctor felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

"No." Was all he managed as he stared painfully back at Tasha knowing what was inevitably coming.

"Oh. I died." She deadpanned, "It's funny the things that slip your mind." Tasha replied perfectly calmly, before she let out a cry of pain her hands going to her forehead.

The Doctor was on his feet, "No! No, no, no. Tasha, no, please, not Tasha. No. Fight it. Tash, fight it!" he urged her desperately but he knew it was too late as the Dalek eyestalk shot out of her forehead and he heard the distinctive trundle of a fully fledged Dalek enter the room, diverting his attention.

"Step away from the Dalek unit, Doctor." The Dalek barked and he gave it a cold stare in return, his eyes drifting to Clara for the barest moment as she too stood up backing away from the table and the Dalek.

"You shouldn't even know who I am." He sneered at it, knowing that Oswin's hack should have held. Just another facet of the extraordinary woman he married that he had to be thankful for.

"Information concerning the Doctor was harvested from the cadaver of Tasha Lem." The Dalek replied smugly and the Doctor felt a grin break through his features which held no trace of amusement.

"Well that explains it then, why you've been hiding up here, too afraid to come down and face your Predator?" he mocked and the Dalek rolled back slightly, its eyestalk faltering. "I take it Tasha never told you how to break through the Trenzalore force field though, she'd have died first." He bit back, quite certain of it.

"Several times." The Dalek agreed sounding faintly impressed.

The Doctor took a firm hold of his rage, pushing it all into bravado. "Well, you'd better kill me, then. Go on. But before you do..." he twirled his sonic, until the message sounded out through the room.

"Doctor who? Doctor who? Doctor who?" The Question demanded in those chilling mixed voices. "I'm a tough old bird. I'll be ages dying. Way enough time to answer a question. And, oh dear, what happens then, boys?" he goaded them, certain he had the upper hand in this stalemate. Right before Tasha lunged for Clara's neck and energy danced across them both, paralysing Clara in her electrified grip.

"You will die in silence, Doctor, or your wife will become the one thing you despise... one of us. Imagine what more secrets she could reveal to us of your nature. Of the Time Lords."

The Doctor couldn't help it, he felt a savage pleasure as he stared at the psychotic hateful little creature. "Oh you'd try to convert her." He snarled, "And you'd fail... again!" He pointed angrily at the Dalek, there was no way in hell he'd let Clara go through a conversion, suffer the way Oswin had. "Honestly, doesn't it bother you in the slightest that you forgot me? You forgot me!" he slammed his hands down onto the table and the Dalek wheeled back a pace. "You get one warning, for old time's sake. You touch my wife and forgetting me will be the least of your problems."

"You would not risk her life." The Dalek reasoned, seeing through what it thought was the heart of the issue.

Clara struggled against Tasha, forcing words out of her shaking mouth as the charge still flooded her "You'll kill me anyway. What difference does it make? I'm not afraid. I'll leave that to you."

The Doctor rounded on the two women, his eyes holding Clara's for just a fraction of a second, willing her to hold on. "You see, Tasha, that's what I'm talking about. That is a woman!" He stood inches from his wife, desperate to kiss her and not daring. His eyes went behind to Tasha her grip on Clara's neck unwavering. "I always knew you were a bit spineless, you and your pointless Church. Why did I ever rely on you? Never trust a nun to do a Doctor's work." He spat trying to stir an emotional response in the woman, for a moment he doubted he had reached her, before her hand shoved Clara and in the same gesture slapped him hard across the face. Without breaking stride she turned raising her hand palm up and blasting the Dalek's into flames with their own weapons. Even he had to admire the woman's style. His hands immediately caught Clara who faltered suddenly free of the energy.

"And she's back!" the Doctor declared trusting his wife to remain upright and grasping Tasha in a tight hug, spinning her slightly in relief as the eyestalk disappeared back into her skull leaving an ugly scar.

"You never could resist a row." He smirked dropping her unsteadily back to her feet as she glared at him before his eyes rounded on Clara once more as she bent double, clutching her midsection. Her hand clutched his offered one firmly and he drew her to him and pressed a kiss to her unblemished forehead before running his hands across her still slightly trembling limbs; making sure she was completely undamaged.

"You ok?" he asked her gently.

"Peachy keen." She muttered, her eyes on Tasha in a mixture of pity and admiration.

"Tasha you can get us back to the Tardis right? He pocketed his sonic briefly, heading towards the teleporters.

"Yes, but quickly, the Dalek inside me is waking." She warned.

"Fight it." He ordered, certain she could.

"I can't." She snapped back just as certain.

The Doctor grasped her face, "A mere echo of my wife fought off a full Dalek conversion not just some puppet show. It is possible." He taunted her hoping her competitiveness might rise to the fore, she'd been trying to one up Clara from afar these past three hundred years or so already. "Listen to me," he demanded at her slightly doubtful look, "You have been fighting the psychopath inside you all your life. Shut up and win. That is an order Tasha Lem." He didn't know if it was working but she seemed to stand a little straighter and was clearly still in control as she pushed buttons on her console as he and Clara stepped into the teleporter.

"The force field will hold for a while, but it will decay, and there are breaches already." Tasha told him, her movements quick and decisive.

"Then this isn't a siege any more, it's a war. It's all up to you now. Fight the Daleks, inside and out. You can do it, I know you can." He instructed her.

"Oh, I see. You've got your TARDIS back, haven't you? Time to fly away." She accused.

"Tasha, please. Please. Thank you." He pleaded, never sure why he seemed to find such remarkable people to fight beside him.

Tasha rolled her eyes at him, "None of this was for you, you fatuous egotist. It was for the peace. Fly away, Doctor!" she called after him as the teleport engaged.

Back inside the TARDIS the Doctor set the controls, his eyes on Clara but she was too distracted to notice the coordinates he input.

"Will she be ok?" Clara asked quietly.

"I imagine so. I'd be more scared of her than the Dalek's if I knew what was good for me." He muttered.

"So... it's a war now." Clara stepped up to him and he pulled her into his embrace, burying his head in the crook of her neck and refusing to let the truth of the moment in.

"Don't." She whispered and he tightened his grip reflexively, her mind brushing his and in his need to connect with her in that moment betraying him. She knew what he was planning. The image of his grave stark in her mind amidst the battlefield of thousands.

"I must." He whispered, wanting her forgiveness and knowing it was too much to ask, not so soon from her perspective. "I can't fight a war if I'm terrified of losing you." He admitted. How could the Universe be so cruel as to make him give up this twice?

Clara pulled back to look at him, her eyes shining. "You won't lose me, you know that." She argued.

"I've altered time, who's to say what may happen now. I can't risk it; the monster we're afraid I might become... if you die, he will be so much worse." He knew that much was the truth. "I need you to survive Clara, you must."

"So I'm supposed to sit at home like the good wife, whilst you go off to war for what, another hundred years or more?"

"Yes." He snapped. "If you love me. If you respect my decisions, if you care at all for the future we have worked to build you will do this for me. I am asking this as your husband." He implored her capturing her face in his hands. "Wait for me. Because I will be back for you."

Clara's hands rose to cover his. "But not like this." She whispered. "Not as you." Her thumb brushed his cheek as if she wanted to take this face with her.

"We knew this day would come my Love. You've seen what will become of this world. My gravestone will end up here one day because it must, but not now not in this war. I'm going to go on. But living isn't enough Clara." He pressed a kiss to her lips, "If I am to survive after this, it will be because you were there to pull me from the ashes." Clara felt the tears falling warm and heavy down her cheeks. "Please, do this for me. I can't send you away again. I need you to do what I can't. Leave." He kissed her fiercely, trying to convey the utter contradiction ablaze within him as he clung to her.

"You know what you're asking of me?" She broke over those words, her hand on her stomach and he knew she felt as sick at the idea as he did.

"I know." He apologised holding her in his embrace. She nodded quietly, reluctantly, but she gave in to his simple but oh so difficult request in the end; he felt the moment she made the decision, felt the way it broke her heart as it had his.

The Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I need to give you something, for your protection." He admitted and she waited nervously as he turned to the console. "Should have given it to you the first time, but I was too worried I wouldn't be able to go through with it if we spoke." Clara flinched at the reminder of the first time he had abandoned her. He punched a few buttons she was unfamiliar with and a device rose from inside the console, it took her a moment to recognise it as another sonic, smaller and subtly different to his own but unmistakeable. He reached forwards and plucked it from the TARDIS, holding it out for her.

"Are you sure this is protection and not painting a target like a giant neon sign over my head?" Clearly she wasn't so sure, after all nothing like it would exist on Earth. But it would be his last link to her and a way for him to find her. He remained holding it out to her, his face impassive.

"You are my wife and I am being forced to abandon you to a planet and a people whose very nature are unpredictable at best. Please take it. It is twinned to mine."

Clara reached out trailing her palm over his and curled her fingers around the sonic, a gift not just from him but from the TARDIS as well. "Will it operate just like yours?" she hesitated, pressing the button and searching for the telepathic connection that danced across her mind.

"Exactly." He murmured, his fingers reaching up to trail across her lips as he seemed to memorize her face, her every expression once more.

"Will you remember me if you are gone another 300 years Doctor?"

"Don't." He hissed, clutching her face with his hands. "Stop it." He pressed. "Wife or not. How could I ever forget one moment of you?" his lips were forceful as they crashed against hers. "Your heart beats in tandem with mine, your mind calls out to me, your very timeline interwoven with my own. I could no longer forget you than forget myself." He was angry she realised, it was a simmering thing but once unleashed capable of utter destruction, his hands went around her arms clutching tightly as he all but threw her against the edge of the console, pressing into her with his body. It should have frightened her, he was the Oncoming Storm, the Predator, thousands of worlds had come to fear his name... a thousand more had come to revere it. And she had married him.

His hands grasped her waist and lifted her onto the console pushing open her legs and stepping into them. Clara gasped as he grasped the back of her head with one hand, drawing their faces inches from one another until their foreheads brushed, his hardness pressing insistently against her thigh. He didn't say a word, just lowered his hand to her waist and tore open her trousers pushing them down her hips violently as his fingers pushed into her without hesitation.

"Will you forget this?" she managed, gasping against the sensation of him, her body quick to remember the feel of him on the bell tower barely a few hours ago. His fingers within her increased their insistence and his grip on the back of her head tightened as he fisted it in her hair and took her mouth with his, forcing her silence. Desperate it seemed to stop her from saying anything else that might break him or break his resolve. Her hands lowered, making quick work of his own belt, unzipping and pushing his trousers down, he didn't even pause as he shifted his hips, his fingers dropping away as he thrust himself into her. His fingers in her hair rose to her face and pressed into her temple until she screamed out his true name; the name the planet he had just left would have burnt over, as he pushed every ounce of the feelings he held into her until she was alight with it. Three hundred years of wanting... of waiting, or pleasuring himself to nothing more than the memory of her; he let her feel it all.

"Clara." He rasped, his head buried in her neck, the wetness against her skin letting her know he was sobbing quietly as he wrapped her arms around him as tightly as her legs grasped his hips and urged him to continue.

"Shhh." She kissed his temple. "I'm here, always." She consoled, hating that this wonderful man may spend what might be his last moments alone, defending an innocent world and his own long lost one from the fear of an entire Universe rallied against him. His movements grew frantic against her and she felt herself trembling around him, the gentle strokes of his mental and physical ministrations enough to send her crashing over the edge again and drawing him with her. "I love you." She promised him as he lay over her unwilling to end the moment.

"Love is too simple a word." He admitted, gently lifting off her and with one last longing look at her helping her to right her clothing, before reaching for his own. When he bent down to retrieve the sonic she had carelessly dropped in the heat of the moment she watched his clever fingers trace along it before he handed it back to her and helped her down from the console.

"Sorry." Clara whispered to the TARDIS patting the console and sending out a mental apology along with it for defacing her quite so thoroughly. The answering beep and mental brush of quiet acceptance was more than enough. Clara turned to her husband, his head was bowed, his ever mad hair even madder from her ministrations, but the look on his face threatened to break her. She reached up and brushed his cheek with her hand.

"I'll see you soon, my Doctor." She offered in her ever improving Gallifreyan as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Turning away before he or she had the chance to break their mutual promises as she hurried to the TARDIS doors and without daring to look back stepped out of them to the all too familiar sight of her apartment on Earth.

The doors closed behind her and the sound of the engines taking her husband and the life they had built together away had her falling to her knees, clutching herself as she sobbed into the ordinary green grass. He was gone and her heart might quite literally have gone with him, because out there somewhere in time, he was dying.