CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The meal was unexpected from the Sheriff. She had to at least give him credit for attempting to wine and dine her in some effort to convince her that he was in fact some sort of suitor... rather than an arrogant egomaniacal bastard that was currently holding her 'father' all but to ransom. He raised his goblet in some sort of toast from the seat at the end of the ridiculously long table laden with mostly meat and she raised her own taking a swig. It was strong and fairly awful, but she thought that was probably the point, perhaps he was just trying to get her drunk; it was almost disappointing to think that the great 'Sheriff of Nottingham' was just another douchebag guy trying the same old tricks. She smirked to herself, almost pleased that her new constitution meant she'd be easily able to drink him under the table, even if it was a fleeting happiness. Back or rather forward in Victorian London she had been rather irritated to note that any buzz of any drunkness she got from alcohol seemed to fade all too soon the minute it started 'damaging' her liver cells.
"You're not hungry Lady Marion?" he asked her politely, eyeing her empty plate as he reached out and took a handful of berries, popping them into his mouth and rolling them around in some display of seduction that completely overshot her. The name she'd given him stung a little and she realised that whatever history she'd hoped to observe, she'd probably thoroughly undone.
But to humour him Clara glanced over at the pigs head, the various meats she didn't dare name, the general filth encrusted on the table and what she suspected were lead plates. "I'll pass." She murmured. "For some reason I can't seem to find my appetite."
He smirked and stood, crossing to sit on the end of the table closest to her, his hand going out to play with her hair as she resisted sliding out of his touch, keeping her eyes locked on his. "Or perhaps you have an appetite for 'other' things." He all but leered, clearly he thought he was being suave, but there was an edge to the man that set off further warning bells, urging caution.
Clara swallowed down the hysterical laugh that threatened, correctly deducing it might earn her a backhand. "I'm pretty sure that appetite left the building too."
His grip on her hair tightened and he slid his hand around the back of her head holding her fast and leaning in closer, his eyes on her mouth. "Such beautifully soft lips; who would imagine they could conceal a tongue so sharp?"
Clara let her lips curve up into a wicked smirk. "If you don't like my bark, I guarantee you won't enjoy my bite." She warned, keeping her tone as deliberately salacious as she could to take some of the sting out of it. A man's pride was a dangerous thing to wound after all. He cocked his head as if observing her before he let out a bark of laughter and thankfully released her, she tried not to look relieved as she took in a shaking breath, watching him pull back but remain sitting within reach of her as his hand disappeared into his tunic. He pulled out her sonic, flourishing it at her. "You certainly have a strange way with words, but I admire your directness, I find it refreshing." He traced his finger along the metal device. "Tell me this 'wand' of yours is a device of some awesome power evidently. I assume it is as capable as your father's of disabling my metal men?"
Clara pursed her lips and he grasped her chin, squeezing just a fraction too hard to be an idle gesture as he shook her face lightly, clearly he wanted an answer.
"Yes." She snapped, offering nothing more.
"Fascinating. Tell me fair one, are you from beyond the stars?" his question was abrupt, shrewd even and Clara wondered if she needed to be more careful, he knew more than he was letting on, and clearly those robots had come from somewhere. So she reached up and placed her hand over his, trying to get him to soften his grip as she leant into his touch as his hand migrated to her cheek.
"You have your mechanical army. Surely I should be asking you that question?" Clara let her tone drop slightly into a more seductive purr. She needed to use honey, not vinegar.
But the Sheriff was at least more astute than she'd given him credit for. "Do you presume to bat those big beautiful brown eyes at me and convince me to spill all of my secrets?" he smirked looking down at her, his thumb swept over her lips and she kept her teeth firmly back for fear of taking a bite out of him on reflex. But she let her own eyes sweep down across him to his lap, he clearly was effected by her, that gave her power, one that didn't require her to risk trying to take him out. Jenny had been a good teacher... but she hadn't always been the best student, unarmed combat never had been her thing. Seduction though... well she always had been a world class flirt.
Her hand slid up across his thigh feeling him tense at her touch and she leant in closer to him, her lips a breath from his, keeping her eyes deliberately wide but not in the least bit innocent. "What would you prefer I convince you with if not my eyes?" she all but purred, those same eyes dropping to his lips.
He was not the gentleman he claimed to be; he surged forward, taking her mouth hard and plundering it with his tongue until she was breathless, his hands grasping her around the waist and dragging her up out of her seat until she was trapped by his arms and the table's edge. She gasped pulling away from his mouth at the feel of him pressed against her... hard, too hard, and surprisingly cold. Clara reached down and forcefully brushed the heel of her hand against him, confirming her suspicion, as she grasped the back of his head and pulled it down, letting her teeth nip his ear as he hissed in both delight and pain.
"You're metal." She rasped against his ear, hiding her revulsion at the idea and hoping it looked like desire.
He paused, turning to glance down at her and pushing the evidence further against her stomach. "Part man, part engine." He acknowledged.
Clara tried not to ask 'why that part' squashing the comment for other more useful ones she doubted that was where the modifications ended. "What happened, did you find them, these metal men of yours? Did they come from the stars? Were there lights in the sky, beckoning you closer?" she fired off each question at him, not needing to make her tone any more breathless as she still struggled to recover the air he'd sucked out of her.
"There was fire in the sky." He replied, burying his head in her neck and returning the bite she'd offered to his ear. "And a mighty roar of flame and heat on the ground."
She raised her hands, clutching onto his shoulders and pulling him closer, letting him feel every curve she possessed pressed against him. "Almost as if they crashed into the very Earth." She offered, directing as boldly as she dared as his hands slid around to cup her ass. Her body fought a shudder from his unwanted touch and a pain lashed her mind that had her momentarily seeing stars, the sharp intake of breath she'd taken clearly making the good Sheriff think more of himself. She held him tighter trying to ground herself against the pain, as she felt the echo of her husband's heart beat almost deafening in her mind, forcing against her boundaries as the words of their bonding ceremony reverberated through her. He had always said there would be a price for betraying her vows, betraying her husband. Cursing the timing and it's ridiculous inability to distinguish between actual desire and survival, she threw up mental barriers and tried to force the understanding into her own mind. It is a ruse, a seduction for survival. There is no betrayal. I am not betraying him. She repeated it over and over as his hands swept over her, grasping at her breasts and pushing her back onto the table, stepping between her legs as his hands began to push up the dress along her thighs. This was not a betrayal. She convinced herself finally, as she focussed on the utter disgust she felt, until the pain in her head receded enough that she could think clearly again.
"Tell me what you saw. I want to know, I want to hear of your bravery that night when there was fire in the sky." She urged him, her hands going to his tunic almost as if his story was driving her into a fervour as she tugged at the leather, exposing his chest as she ran her nails along the flesh, making him groan with fresh desire as he lowered his mouth to her collarbone, sucking hard on the exposed skin there.
"I saw a craft from the heavenly spheres," he rasped, his hands leaving her thighs as he settled them over her hips instead, his mouth trailing lower to brush the tops of her cleavage, "it was bedight with twinkling lights and miracles beyond imagining." He added in a low rumble, as if somehow his words were a seduction in themselves. But she was unmoved, and the mantra was still repeating in her head, her mental walls straining to contain the bond to her husband that was itching to tear free; to tear into this imposter she realised with satisfaction.
Clara let her hands trail around him, going to grasp the round globes of his leather covered ass cheeks and pressing him closer against her in the one place she'd rather he didn't, the solid metal length of him still thankfully contained by those leather pants. "And these metal men from beyond the sky, they obviously saw you as their natural Leader." he groaned loudly as she let her hips rise against his.
"They imparted their secrets to me." He admitted, silencing her questions with his mouth as he lowered his hands to her legs once more and lifted them until they were wrapped around his waist. The mantra in her head kicked up a notch and she felt the urge to tear out his eyes and rend his flesh become almost unbearable. She wasn't violent by nature, but something inside of her was demanding it of her now. "I will be the most powerful man in this realm soon enough, a King in all but name." He boasted, no doubt expecting her to be impressed.
"World domination then..." Clara laughed then, "It's always has to be the world isn't it, what Nottingham wasn't enough?" He stopped detaching his lips from her skin, his hands clamping down hard on her thighs as he realised she was mocking him.
"You mock me?" he snapped, a flash of anger colouring his features now.
"No, never your 'Majesty'." She smirked letting him see the feral thing inside of her that was demanding she tear this pretender down, that she honour her husband. Reaching up she pressed her hands against his temples on instinct, opening a flood gate that had him screaming and recoiling, part metal or not, there was clearly enough human flesh left in his brain to be overwhelmed. Clara rolled off the table taking the sudden freedom offered to her and searching frantically for her sonic, only to realise it was somewhere in his half open tunic. His arms were flailing and he drew a dagger almost blindly swiping it in front of himself and keeping her back.
"What is this... what have you done." He howled as he clutched his head, she had never tried telepathy or a mental link of any kind with anyone but the Doctor, she never wanted to again in fact, but right now she hoped to God it would keep him down long enough for her to find a weapon as she shot along the table, finding an obscenely long carving knife buried in the mostly whole pig, more sword than knife in her hand. She grasped it, pulling it out and taking a moment to admire the wicked curve to it, the edge sharp enough to cut bone. The Sheriff rushed her from the side, throwing his somewhat substantial weight against her and they tumbled down to the floor, but she kept a hold onto the blade as she went, attempting to bury it between his shoulder blades. But it bounced off, hitting metal and she cried out as she felt his own knife slice into her abdomen and then twist stealing her breath and replacing it with raw agony.
"Such a waste." He hissed in her ear, his tongue flicking out to lick down her cheek as he drove the blade a little deeper in a move meant to kill her. But he couldn't see the gold glow she realised as she stared up at him, just his disappointment with her failure to see him for the 'great leader' he clearly wanted to be. "You would have made such a wonderful Queen."
Clara couldn't help but grin up at him despite the pain that was already beginning to recede. "Your metal men from the stars clearly didn't tell you all their secrets." The knife was still embedded in her but the damage had been repaired around it. "Or they'd have told you to watch out for women showing an interest in you... because they are clearly alien too!" She shoved upwards, rocking him off her with all of her strength and using a joint lock on his shoulder Jenny had taught her to get leverage as she landed heavily on top of him this time. Without hesitating she grasped the hilt of her own blade with two hands and brought it down soundly on his neck, severing his head.
It took her a moment to realise that the 'metal man' the Sheriff had become was mostly metal now as sparks and wires jutted from the ugly mess of his neck and it was sickeningly familiar. Hatred and suppressed fury at what had happened to her in that cold circular room in Victorian London raced through her as she stared down at his still blinking eyes in the head that had rolled free. She hated robots. Despised them in fact. And men who thought they could be robots... well, she brought the blade down again, driving it right between his eyes and waiting as the lights connected to his neck went out and the blinking stopped. Clara rocked back on her heels, putting distance between his lifeless body and her own before dropping the blade with a clang that startled her as it fell from her trembling hands. His blade in her gut was uncomfortable and she stared down at the blooded mass dispassionately before tugging it free to join her own abandoned one.
She'd killed him, the Sheriff of Nottingham. Or rather Maid Marion had.
Perhaps she should have been more concerned about the damage she had probably done to the timeline, but all she could think about was how she'd killed him. Without thought at all really. She hadn't even questioned the desire to end his life, or if he deserved it, or if he might still be useful to her. In that moment it honestly hadn't mattered to her, so long as he died. In fairness he'd killed her first, but fairness didn't un-stain her with this violent act. The pounding drum beat of the Doctors twinned rhythm retreated finally, falling into its familiar background noise in her mind and she sank back to the floor shocked and slightly nauseous. Her Bow-Tied Doctor had warned there would be consequences, this version of him had reiterated that... so just what in the hell had she let them do to her?
The long haired ninny had managed to free a hand and was hastily working on the other one. The Doctor stared plaintively across at him, watching how he'd done it and deciding that without the bit of metal he'd clearly managed to stash somewhere on his person he wouldn't be able to repeat the trick.
"What's your plan?" The Doctor asked him calmly, his Scottish accent thickening as he waited for a response. Robin gave him a look that suggested he didn't have one but was working on it. "I see." He commented back to the silence. "Might I suggest a new one? Free me and I'll assist you with these Knights and the good Sheriff."
The ninny got his second hand free of the shackle. "And why would I have need of a decrepit old fool?" he squatted down to work on his ankles.
"Because we are in a dungeon, surrounded by those Knights, they are mechanical men from beyond the stars, who've likely got a crashed ship somewhere around here, one that is in desperate need of repairs to its engine matrix... hence all the Gold." Robin got another ankle free and the Doctor started talking a little faster. "That ship even repaired will never break orbit, not if it was crippled enough to need gold in the quantities you've described. What they are building is a giant bomb that will explode taking out half the country with it." Not that this pudding brain probably had the faintest idea of what a 'bomb' was.
He'd freed himself and headed towards the door, not once glancing in the Doctors direction. "How many men did you lose?" the Doctor called and Robin paused. "Did you take down even one of his metal Knights?" Their eyes met and the Doctor smiled coldly. "I did." He watched the indecision play out across the so called 'hero's' face. "There is nowhere to run, that explosion will kill you. Free me and I'll stop it."
Robin sighed. "I'm sure I'll regret this." He muttered stalking towards him and with both hands making relatively short work of his first shackle.
"Probably." The Doctor conceded. "But where's your sense of adventure?"
The escape attempt was proving more difficult than anticipated the Doctor noted as he and Robin Hood of all people ducked out of sight of yet more robotic Knights, that were patrolling what appeared to be the actual dungeons, where all the 'resistant' citizens to the Sheriff's regime and just those poor unfortunate blighters in the wrong place at the wrong time had ended up. They had been put to work in the giant gold vats, melting down their precious valuables and printing out sheets of what the doctor recognised as circuitry and other engine components. It was under such a vat cleverly disguised by simply not disguising it at all he noticed the exhaust shafts for the vessel that had been reconstructed inside the castle, as it rose up towering above the ignorant pudding brains who would be vaporized along with half the country when it attempted to ignite.
"By the Gods, what is that?" Robin asked; this particular pudding brain had at least looked up the Doctor noted.
"A ship, one that these idiots think is capable of leaving this world."
"Impossible." Robin declared inadvertently agreeing with him even if he had no idea why he was right in his ignorance.
"Normally no, it's just about thrust. Sadly this engine will never achieve enough critical mass to do so. Like I said it's just a very large, very futuristic explosion waiting to happen." The Doctor grumbled watching the Knights as they went about keeping the workers in line. Clearly they had some idea of what was needed to repair their vessel but the fact that they seemed incapable of understanding it wouldn't work suggested they were nothing more than worker drones missing a command element. Dangerous, as he'd seen unfortunately on more than one occasion. At least Cybermen blew you up on purpose, this accidental near destruction of the human race would have been laughable if it wasn't so tragic.
Robin gave him a look that he recognised all too well, 'glazed' he'd call it. The poor fool had probably never even seen an explosion before. "It's going to rain fire. Lots of it." The Doctor amended. "I suggest we not be here for that." He jerked his thumb indicating they should retreat, back into the castle. "I need to get up into that thing." The Doctor pointed up, and headed for the nearest stairs hoping if nothing else that height might gain perspective. That and he suspected that the Sheriff and Clara would be upwards, in the furthest point from the dungeons.
Robin followed, grumbling about his men, all of whom had been in that dungeon and he hadn't lifted a finger to rescue the Doctor pointed out, which had earned him blessedly stony silence as they reached a dead end. Or rather it should have been, the castle wall had been removed and replaced with a metallic one complete with its own access panel. The Doctor grinned, technology he could do. Getting in was childsplay and he ignored Robin's protests about entering the Devil's sanctum, the idiot could stay outside for all he cared he'd just needed him to get out of the cuffs. He didn't recognise the layout or design, not that it mattered as he strode in towards the centre console and began tapping into its central operations. He pulled up the nav computer, confirming his suspicions about the crash and oddly enough where they had been going. 'The Promised Land'. The words flashed out at him and he stood back ramrod straight as he recalled the deranged Half-faced man's words. He'd thought he'd been going there too. What the hell was this the Robot Holy Grail? The search for some meaning to their hollow existences. There was a sphere displayed that looked vaguely planet like although clearly a construction of engineering rather than a celestial event, but clearly they thought it was an actual place with actual coordinates. Not that those were available to him, they seemed to have been scrambled in the crash. He slammed his hands into the console in frustration.
"Good news?" Robin quipped as he came to stand beside him, his eyes darting from one unfamiliar corner of the room to the other as he studiously avoided looking at the 'devilry' all around him the Doctor noted.
"No. They're idiots. Worse their possibly religious ones, who think they might be going to a heaven someplace, which might just turn out to be real."
Robin nodded. "And this skyfire you mentioned?"
"Imminent." The Doctor muttered. "Which given as its 12th Century England it's about to decimate, if I don't avert it there's a very real possibility my wife might cease to exist." Which was hardly a thought worth bearing so he didn't; Robin meanwhile was giving him a very odd look.
"You are quite mad, you do realise that." Robin told him pointedly.
"And yet not mad enough. I'm still going to be saving this wretched planet." The Doctor muttered. "But I don't need you anymore,so bugger off would you... go be a hero or something. Why not give rescuing those people in the dungeons a whirl, or even just go back for your men before they all get incinerated by the engines."
Robin looked irritated and mostly like he thought it was something of a tall order. "Hero's tend to get rewarded." Robin muttered.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, some hero. "The dungeon is practically rolling in gold, why don't you consider that hazard pay. The more villagers you can save, the more arms you have to hold your gold." That idea seemed to perk him right up if the wry grin he gave was anything to go by.
"What about the Knights?"
The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh for heaven's sake do I have to think of everything you pudding brain." He spun on the idiot, grasping him by his shirt and all but lifting him as he physically pushed him out the door. "I'm sure if you reflect on the situation... maybe all that gold around you and in your arms, that even you might come up with a solution to how to possibly turn the Knights weapons back on themselves." He slammed the door on Robin's bewildered face and he let out a tut at the general state of humanity that the idiot behind that door could have been anyone's idea of a legend. He suspected he'd probably get himself atomised whilst trying to run away with an armful of gold, but honestly he couldn't care less what happened to the story of Robin Hood. He was more concerned with making sure his own love story didn't go up in smoke.
Agonising pain lashed through him and he crumpled against the console for a moment, the sound of Clara's voice echoing in his head 'It's not a betrayal, it's not.' His wife was in clear distress he could feel the staccato rhythm of her hearts, and the emotional turmoil pulling at her as their bond yanked its leash. He felt his fist curl, knowing the reason his bond would be flaring like that, why she would need a mantra like that and it didn't help his black mood any.
He curled his fists and focused on the job at hand. Saving said wife from non-existence had to come first, he'd save her physically after. And if the Sheriff had laid so much as a finger on her he'd teach him what it was to be a villain.
Unfortunately he really needed his screwdriver to fix this damn thing, but he didn't have it, which meant the best he could hope for was to make such a hash job of their ignition sequence that the damn thing wouldn't even get off the ground. Of course that would also leave a stonking great space ship in the middle of Sherwood Castle... he rubbed his forehead. The damn thing just needed to take off, he didn't need it to actually make orbit, just blow up without going critical safely away from the population. He pushed at the buttons viciously, determining that it had enough power to ignite, enough to sustain a burn even, just not for long. But then the power distribution was all off, the idiots were still trying to maintain life support... which on a ship full of robots was beyond redundant. He found several other systems that they didn't need and shut those down too, by the time he was done he'd found another 25% power, enough to reach orbit. Pity.
He wasn't in the mood to be merciful, he'd been locked in a dungeon and his wife was in real distress, he'd felt the moment when it changed from the bond threatening her vows... to panic, real danger. Then it had all gone quiet. The Doctor rubbed his temple in confusion and no small amount of fear, shutting down her connection like that had only happened once before when she'd been in too much pain to cope. He felt something close to a growl tear from him and he flicked the final buttons, inputting the new commands that would ensure that the blasted ship did indeed make orbit... and would then self destruct. With a grim determination he sent out the recall command, which would have all the tin Knights marching back into their waiting ship on its way to the 'Promised Land'. Idiots. There was no salvation, no safe haven, no peace, not for anyone, anywhere, let alone a bunch of robots.
That done he spun on his heel, breaking into a long loping run as he followed the pull to the only Promised Land that he believed in... the sound of Clara's tenuous heartbeat thrumming through his mind.
He found Clara, although he was somewhat distressed by the sight of her, on her knees, staring at the headless corpse of the Sheriff, a long wicked blade beside her and a blooded pool in her abdomen matched with the vacant expression on her face, all of this telling him she really wasn't alright. His hearts wrenched painfully as he all but skidded to a halt beside her, his hands hesitantly going to her shoulders, frightened to startle her but unable to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.
"Clara... Clara, Clara, my Clara." He murmured against her ear and she visibly slumped against his solid chest as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"I killed him." She rasped; her eyes still on the head, the dead eyes of which were staring accusingly back at her; the Doctor rather imagined the surprise left on his dying face was earned.
"He tried to rape you." He murmured, having deduced that much from their somewhat uneven connection earlier, her still fully clothed state, albeit dishevelled, suggested he'd failed.
"Actually he tried to rape me, then kill me. There might have even been a marriage proposal somewhere in there too." Her voice was taut with tension and no small amount of bitterness as she finally tore her eyes away from him. "I don't have much luck with robots." She added darkly, looking up at him and he felt his breath catch the way it always did when she gave him her undivided attention like that.
"I'm sorry." He tried and she shook her head violently, banishing his apology that he wasn't here, that he'd been left unconscious and useless as he helped her to her feet, his arms remaining tightly around her still slightly trembling form. He chose not to correct her 'robot' assumption with the more correct term cyborg, assuming that she didn't need the distinction laying out before her right now. Particularly not when he suspected that it was the human part of these man-machines that was causing all the bother.
"I didn't even stop to consider if he deserved to die for it though." She admitted, "I just killed him."
"Oh he deserved it..." the Doctor added darkly, for laying a finger on his wife he deserved far worse than death, but he doubted she'd see it that way, "he was about to blow up most of England Love."
Clara glanced up at him, frowning. "Really?" she asked glancing back down at the dead man, "I thought he just wanted to march his Knights up to London and crown himself King."
The Doctor snorted. "He might have, but his programming was sending him and his ship straight to this 'Promised Land' again, taking a large chunk of History with it."
Clara's expression grew more concerned, as it should, this Promised Land business seemed to be weaving a web around them, drawing them in until it was no doubt intended to trap them. "Come on, let's get back to the TARDIS."
"What about the Knights... the England blowing up bit?" Clara questioned as he pulled her along behind him at a tight clip.
"Fixed. The ship will explode safely beyond Earth's atmosphere." He dragged her down the stone stairs, flying through the castle. Knowing that he didn't want to be in what was likely about to become a smoking ruin when the engines ignited, which if his calculations were correct would be in mere minutes.
"And Robin Hood?" Clara asked, tugging on his hand slightly, he glanced back to see her pinched expression.
"Long gone by now, I'm afraid to say Clara, this is why you should never meet your hero's, always a disappointment."
She gave him one long dark look and nodded abruptly, her lower lip was still trembling slightly he realised and he brushed her cheek with his thumb, wanting to get her out of here and back safely aboard the TARDIS. "At least Maid Marion made an impression." He offered and it drew a very small quirk of her lips and a fleeting lightness to her eyes that he cherished because he'd managed to put it there.
Clara followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, the doors closing behind her as she blinked away the sight of the exploding ship in the Earth's upper atmosphere, she was starting to suspect that something was targeting the two of them, something with a robotic fixation. The Doctor didn't waste any time he was throwing levers and the Old Girl responded as she seemed to get them out of there in a hurry. Clara merely stood there, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to make sense of what had just happened to her. The Doctor approached her carefully, his expression wary and fierce all at once, she could tell he wanted to coddle her, wrap her away somewhere and keep her from harm. Poor man, he never could keep his Companions safe, what chance did he stand with his wife?
His long strong fingers captured her face and he drew her gaze onto his, he didn't need to speak, she merely nodded and let him take her by the hand and lead her through the ship to their bedroom, which he bypassed until he reached the bathroom. Clara stood inside the large room, staring at the large sunken bath and letting him quietly but efficiently begin to get it ready for her. She didn't ask how he knew she needed it, he was her husband after all, even if he wasn't able to get inside her head right now. He approached her cautiously and slid around behind her his hands going gently onto her shoulders. "May I?" he asked quietly and she sighed, dropping her head.
"Since when did you ever ask for anything." She replied, wondering how it was she'd managed to find herself with this version of him and being almost relieved it was this way around, "Particularly when it comes to undressing me?" But she nodded giving the assent he never really needed.
He pressed a kiss to her ear. "Humour me?" He asked, his hands already moving to slide her beautiful medieval gown from her shoulders and she appreciated his efforts to be considerate, or his version of it. She shivered slightly at his touch as he swept his hands down her bare arms, deftly undoing the simple tie at her waist and letting the now ruined dress fall to a pool at her feet, the feeling sparking the memory of the fury that had whipped through her when Nottingham's hands had dared even less. He would have raped her, metal appendage or not she was certain of it, she'd had no choice really and he had stabbed her first, there was no doubt he'd been the villain of the piece. It didn't make her feel any less wretched though because she knew the truth... she'd wanted to kill him. Intent. That was always the point, the thing that justified murdering someone.
The Doctor eased them both into the wonderfully warm bath and she leant back against his wiry frame, letting his arms come around her as she closed her eyes, the soft thud of his hearts against her back a reminder of the crescendo they had beat to inside her head. The madness the sound had unleashed in her.
"What was that?" she asked him, keeping her eyes closed as she clutched his hand across her chest.
"You may need to specify a tad more." He grumbled, his voice sounding almost as weary as she felt.
"When he touched me... when I touched him, kissed him," she stumbled over the last word, loathing that she had to admit to it and knowing she'd been in no position to do much else. "I felt it, felt you, felt this... marriage I suppose. And it was pissed off."
The Doctor sighed and slid his arm further around her middle, drawing her closer into him. "A consequence." He replied, which was no help at all, and nothing she hadn't already figured out for herself.
"You said that before... explain." She bit out, gripping his hand tighter to prevent the distraction she was certain he'd attempt if she didn't. "It made me kill him... it made me want to kill him." She added hating admitting to it and feeling her anger at herself redirecting.
The Doctor let out a soft sound that would have bordered on exasperation if it hadn't been so desperately sad and she turned to look up at him, managing only to see his side profile. "You asked me not to lie to you, but I think it would be a kindness if you let me now." He admitted.
Clara turned away from him, staring at the foamy water surrounding her, at his hand splayed across her stomach, the feel of his legs stretched out alongside hers, the brush of his mind at the back of hers. All of it grounding her to this man. "Just the truth Doctor." She insisted, not sure in the least it was what she wanted anymore, their relationship was still so fragile, hanging on by their fingernails.
"Time Lords were... are a cruel race," he amended berating himself, "but they were not monsters. The bond we took was sacred, you know that, and part of its nature was telepathic. A merging if you will." Clara nodded, this she knew. "But it cannot take your free will from you Clara. It can force you to look at yourself, to feel it all, maybe even suggest, but it can never control you or your actions. If you wanted him dead... then that was you. The bond when activated in that way is merely a way of ensuring transparency between married pairs. The truth always hurts." He added darkly.
Clara digested that quietly, so it was an early warning then, a way of preventing adultery being kept a dirty little secret amongst Time Lords... nothing more. She had no one to blame but herself. "You felt it then, what was happening?"
His hands fell away from her slightly. "I felt your terror, your rage, the panic that filled you, the revulsion. I was under no illusions as to what was happening." He added sounding ill and furious at the same time. "Like I said... a cruel race."
Clara threaded her fingers back through his and shifted so that she was lying more firmly against him. "I've changed my mind. Lie to me instead."
He hesitated a moment, before lifting one hand free of hers and threading it through her damp hair. "Your are blameless." He told her, the sincerity in his words and the force in which he pushed them into her mind as he pressed a kiss to her head almost had her believing him.
For once there was nothing sexual between them, he simply held her, let her work through her tumultuous emotions as he gently washed away all traces of the Sheriff and 12th Century fairy tales which had so thoroughly shattered her faith. She still had one hero she mused as she pressed a kiss to the rough skin under his jaw and let him hold her as close as he could manage.
"Perhaps you should pick our next date... maybe somewhere with indoor plumbing." She offered as he took her hand helping her out of the tub, his coquettish smile was evident as he threw a massive towel around her, his gentle touch almost enough to banish her recent encounter.
"So there's another date?" he murmured looking pleased, and relieved and more than a little disappointed as well she noted as he turned away from her trying to hide it.
"Hey." She called after him, catching his hand and tugging him back to face her, her hand going to his cheek as his eyes closed firmly and he placed his own hand over hers. "You thought I was home..." she trailed off realising his mistake and perhaps hers for leading him on so thoroughly. He always got carried away with things when it involved a trip in his TARDIS. Clara leaned closer so that their noses almost brushed which meant she had to strain her toes to reach him. "I just need more..."
"Time!" he snarled completing her sentence for her as he grasped her hand firmly at the wrist and forcefully removed it from his face, the real flash of anger there startling her. "I am a Lord of Time and yet even I can't give you all that you need." He all but growled and she felt her lips press into a thin line at the bitterness there as he wrapped a towel around his waist and stalked from the room leaving her watching after him with a startled expression on her face. The sudden turn to this soft moment between them leaving her reeling.
But she could understand his reaction, hell half the time she wasn't sure herself why she had kept this 'separation' between them. A guilty part of her brain reminded her that she was seeking ways to take the power back that he'd stolen from her when he'd done this to her body and turned their sexual power plays into something darker. He'd always accused her of being a control freak and she realised with a sinking feeling how right he really was. Wicked wife. Wasn't that what he always called her?
Clara hurried after him, her towel wrapped around her slightly chilled form as she sprinted on bare feet through the TARDIS, surprised when she came to the console room to find him hastily shoving buttons.
"Doctor." She called and he ignored her... a first. She approached and he deliberately slid around the other side staring at her coldly from beneath his lowered brow.
"I've done everything I can." He told her with quiet certainty, "I have been the picture of patience..."
"I know... I just..." she tried and he cut her off again with an irritated wave of his hand.
"I, I, I, it's always you isn't it. I see you've really got a hold on that egomania of yours my dear."
Clara felt his anger whip her like a lash and she stood her ground, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him. Clearly he'd forgotten why she'd pulled away from him in the first place. But he didn't give her time to formulate a reply, or even run up a head of steam.
"If it's time you want, time you shall have." He told her the chill in his voice stilled her and she clutched the towel tighter as if it would offer some protection as her heart thumped wildly in her chest in mild panic and confusion that it had gotten so wrong so quickly between them. "Call me why don't you when you're ready to be a wife again. Until then stop bloody tormenting me like some siren." He shoved a lever.
Clara opened her mouth and blinked as she literally saw stars, before she materialised in her bedroom at 13 Paternoster row in quite literally just her towel, her hair dripping a puddle onto the floor around her as she stood there in shock. He'd transmatted her. Clara turned and glanced at the mobile phone that still sat on her nightstand only now it was joined by her sonic; she considered calling it just to shout at him, but her hand hovered and she withdrew. She hadn't seen him that angry before, not like that, not with her and if nothing else she knew her husband was not a man to be trifled with when you managed to make him angry. But he'd done what she'd asked, delivered her back to Victorian London to give her 'time', although she suspected perhaps that this time it might be longer than she'd anticipated.