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“So, taking me home or have we got any other non-fictional fictional people we can go meet? I’ve always been rather fond of Jonathan Swift. Is Lemuel Gulliver real too, do you think?” Clara asked, strolling slowly back into the console room after changing into something a little more of her time. The Doctor was standing at the console itself, resting his cheek against the back of his hand as he stared pensively at the floor.
“Doctor?” She called, trying to rouse him from his thoughts. He didn’t move.
“Doctor? Is everything all right?” She asked. Still he did not answer her, his gaze fixed and his brow furrowed.
“It wasn’t your story to tell.” He said, finally breaking his silence. His voice was low and throaty, the tone he only used when he was really upset.
“Oh.” Clara said, softly.
“Oh? Oh?!? It’s my life, those were my memories you shared with someone who we didn’t even know if we could trust.” He rounded on her, his hurt and rage etched clearly on his face.
“I’m sorry, Doctor. But he wouldn’t take me to help you until I gave him the information he wanted.” She protested.
“So lie. It’s not hard, people do it every day.” He snapped.
“Why would I lie about you?” She asked, frowning.
“Why wouldn’t you? Just tell a story. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“I did tell a story. One of the best I know.” She argued. The Doctor gazed over at her in silence for a few seconds before rubbing his face tiredly and walking away from her around the console.
“You’re walking a dangerous path, Clara. I’m not a hero from a fairytale. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I am safe, or infallible. It would be a terrible mistake.” He warned, idly fiddling with dials as he deliberately avoided her gaze as she followed him.
“The first time I met you, I got downloaded into a matrix. Twice. And that was on my home planet in my own time! I’m not an idiot, Doctor. I know you come with inherent risks attached.” The Doctor look at her, giving the distinct impression that he was trying not to bite through the inside of his bottom lip.
“Okay. I’m sorry that I shared your life story without your consent. I’m sorry that I allowed my own feelings to come before yours, today. I didn’t stop and think about how it would affect you.” She apologised, slowly and carefully. He nodded, allowing himself a small smile to show that he had accepted her remorse but the worry in his eyes remained.
“There’s something else bothering you. What is it?” She asked. He shook his head quickly.
“Nothing else. Thank you for apologising.”
“No. There’s definitely something else. Did you want to keep a robot? Because I won’t have it. Handles was one thing but I won’t have something that can shoot lasers or whatever they were on this TARDIS.”
“I could never replace Handles.” The Doctor exclaimed, scandalised.
“So what is it then?” Clara pressed. He gave her nothing, pursing his lips so tightly that the skin went white. He then mimed turning a key in a lock.
“Oh my god. You thought I was Marian.” Clara said, sudden realisation dawning on her.
“What? No!” The Doctor hurried to mime unlocking the lock so that he could deny it.
“You did! You thought it was going to turn out that I was Maid Marian!” Clara squealed.
“I really didn’t.”
“You really did.”
“I didn’t have time to speculate on such matters as I was too busy trying to stop an alien ship from exploding half the country and probably preventing you from ever being born.” The Doctor protested firmly.
“Fuck.” Clara swore softly. “I hadn’t even thought of that. I was too busy trying to save the England of then, and flirting with Robin and you, and preparing myself to do some Taekwondo if the Sheriff got handsy to even think of the potential future consequences.”
“You weren’t flirting with me.”
“I was trying to.”
“Well I wasn’t flirting with you.”
“Oh really? So none of that showing off with the bow and arrow, or the spoon fight, or out-planning Robin was about impressing me?” Clara asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well…”
“Exactly.” She said, trying and failing to suppress a smirk.
“I can’t believe I met Robin Hood and nearly got erased from existence all in the space of a weekend.” She mused.
“I can’t believe it either.” The Doctor murmured, his tone triggering every alarm bell in Clara’s head.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m right here.” She said soothingly, slipping her fingers through his and resting her head on his shoulder (in reality, his upper arm since she was too short to reach his shoulder).
“I’m right here and I don’t plan on going anywhere.” She repeated, letting him decide when he wanted to move away. Except he didn’t. He stood there, rigid and tense as if he was made of stone. There was silence for a few minutes as they remained, nothing but the odd creak and groan of the TARDIS and faint sounds of breathing.
“I might have, for a second or two. Thought you were Marian, that is.” The Doctor spoke so quietly that Clara almost didn’t hear him. She smiled up at him.
“And there it is. Knew I could make you admit it eventually.” She said, squeezing his hand. He glared down at her with a mixture of annoyance and fondness.
“Well you wouldn’t give up until I did so I was just saving us both the misery of having to go through that.”
“I think it’s because you love me.”
“Oh no, not with the mind games.”
“It’s not mind games. It’s just a statement of fact.”
“You said think. It’s not a fact if you think it.” The Doctor pointed out. Clara looked up at him thoughtfully, then pulled him down by the collar for a kiss. At first his hands flapped about uselessly with shock but slowly he brought them up to her face. He was infuriatingly gentle, as though he was worried he might break her.
“You fought Robin Hood with a spoon to impress me. Kiss me like that.” She asked. The Doctor rolled his shoulders back.
“Okay. You asked for it.” He made a big show of stretching his arms, right down to his fingers, before swiftly lifting her up so that she was sitting on the console and kissing her without abandon. It was like a wave crashing over her as he poured everything he had into the kiss.
He was an overwhelming presence, pressing her back against the console and giving her no room to move, to breath. An eternity, no time or space outside of this moment. A moment that could, would last forever as she met him with full force. What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object? Infinity. A cosmic dance of love, lust, and sheer relief that they’d once again made it out of the darkness alive. Lips crashing together, falling in and out of each other’s rhythm as they dueled, neither willing to allow the other complete dominance.
It wasn’t perfect. There was too much teeth and not enough tongue, and their noses kept getting in the way. It was flawed but it was right. It was. They were. It might have been minutes, it could have been hours, before the Doctor pulled away just enough to allow Clara to catch her breath. Both of them were a mess, flushed faces and disheveled hair. The Doctor’s top few buttons were undone and Clara couldn’t even remember when that happened.
“Impressed yet?” He asked, breathlessly.
“I don’t know, clever boy. That might have been a one time thing. I’m going to need you to kiss me again. You know. So I can make an informed decision as to how impressed I may or may not be.” She answered, her heart thundering so loudly in her chest that she was sure it could be heard across the whole vastness of the universe.
The Doctor leaned in, his breath hot against her neck enough to make her shiver with anticipation. He spoke, in a low, throaty whisper.
“I can do that.”