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She's in an empty room. A susurration, a brook or stream, in the background. She is dreaming. He's there too and he's sitting cross legged on the floor, his back is turned to her. She is dreaming. His looking intently at something on the wall, she says his name to no avail. She is dreaming. He's turning around and she's seeing that he's faceless. She wants to scream but no sounds is making its way out of her throat. She is dreaming. He doesn't notice her, he's too busy etching something into the hardwood floor. She's craning her neck to see what he's writing but it's difficult with his near unintelligible handwriting. Then he stop writing and disappears, along with the lights in the room. Suddenly, the susurration turns into a roar, like a rapid and she feels something thick sloshing around her legs and rising rapidly. She is dreaming. She feels something grab her leg and her mouth finally allows her to scream. She seems him again, just as the viscous substance covers her eyes, he's mouthing something. A confession, perhaps, last words.
She's awake
They have a fight. It's not important what about, but now she's lying on her couch. There's a half empty bottle of Pinot balanced precariously on the edge of the coffee table.The TV is playing a rerun of some romance movie, that she's either seen before or is very predictable. It's a Wednesday, and she doesn't want him to come, no she does. She doesn't expect him to come.
Nevertheless, at five on the dot, a familiar whooshing sound fills the room, setting a pile of tests into flight and knocking the wine into the carpet. She curses, but doesn't do anything to stop the red liquid from seeping into the cream carpet. He's running out and holding a dress, a gorgeous dress, for that matter.
"How would you fancy dinner and a show? Mozart, to be specific"
And she doesn't think, she doesn't need to
"Yes"
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"I would like one trip, Doctor" she sighs and gives a restless tug at the ropes binding her wrists to no avail "One trip that doesn't include incarceration"
"Relax, Clara"
"Relax?! They're planning to execute us for treason!" She takes a deep breath and adds "Next time, if you think the king is a Zygon" her calm demeanor fades away and she ends up shouting the next part "Try having facts to back up your claim before attacking him"
He might have something said something but the screwdriver between his lips is muffling at sounds coming from him.
They get out of eventually with a pair of vibro cutters, a bribable guard and a fair amount of explosives. She hears the shouts and boots stamping the cobblestone streets.
Then, feels his hand in hers, his fingers intertwine with hers and he gives a quick squeeze, turns to her and mouths "Run". Her single favorite word in the universe.
She thinks it's what she loves the most about this, just him and her and adrenaline pumping through her veins.
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Their trip is calmer, an intergalactic market place ("The universe's largest!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms out). He drops a small sack in her palm and says "Don't waste it" like he's sending a kid to a store. She has a scarring culinary experience, featuring a slimy, still-ticking octopus like creature and a foul smelling alcoholic drip before she finds him.
He's having a hushed conversation with a metallic humanoid selling jewelry. He hasn't noticed her and she's in no rush to go back so she watches him pulls something thin and shiny out of his pocket and lay it on the counter. He carefully picks up the object before turning to Clara.
"May I?" He asks holding out the necklace and she nods, moving closer and turning her back to him. The titillation of his long fingers pushing her hair aside and brushing her neck sends shivers down her spine. The pendant is a simple silver chain with a black crystal that fits perfectly in the hollow of her throat. On nearer view, she notices that it has millions of tiny white specks.
"Made from a piece of Agovian nebula" he murmurs, his lips too close for her ear for her heart beat to to pick up.
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Clara Oswald knows what fear is, she knows more than most people, and the one thing she feels in that moment is fear. She knows she's going to die. Whatever she's been injected with, it's working fast, she can feel it's rushing through her veins, she can feel it burning her blood. Then she's hearing a familiar Scottish accent and looking into a pair of impossibly old eyes.
"Clara, Stay with me." His voice is so far away, and her eyelids are starting to droop.
When she wakes up, the first thing she sees is white. He's sitting in a foldable chair, watching her, she wants to ask how long she's been asleep and but she doesn't, she can't.
"Are you alright?" He speaks first and she nods and points to the pitcher on the table. He obliges and she downs the water in three gulps.
"You'll be alright, get some rest and water" and she notices a pink tint coloring his cheeks and tips of his ears before he says "I thought I lost you, Clara"
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He takes her to a desert planet, it's vaguely earth like except for the three Suns beating down on the arid plane. He doesn't say anything, just sets his jacket on the floor and indicates for her to sit down. They watch the final sun set together, turning the sky a deep shade of burgundy. For some reason it reminds her of him, the wine seeping into her carpet, his velvet coat flapping after him as he runs.
Before she knows it the burgundy sky has turned an inky purple and she sees everything. Rushing comets, nebulas like paint dipped into water, colossal planets and millions upon millions of stars. Next to her, she notices the Doctor, as infatuated with the view as she is
"Wow" she breathes, and rests her head on his shoulder, and she thinks if she listens closely she can hear his hearts pounding
"Uvana XII. The only planet you don't need a telescope" is all he says
"Thank you" she whispers back, not sure why she's whispering.
And there's a pregnant silence before he turns his head and says "Anytime" into her hair
After the awe of Uvana's night sky wears of, she starts hugging him, the kiss afterwards is just as natural as the hug. They stumble into the TARDIS his hands tangled in her hair and her whispers of "I love you" breathed out between kisses. Before either of them know it, he's kneeling between her legs on the library couch and curse words and breathless moans are tumbling from her lips
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She cares about him, he knows that and sometimes he thinks he has to distance himself, to protect her. But there's something about her that pulls attracts him, she's a planet and he's stuck in a gravitational pull.
She's lying in his bed, fast asleep and he's thinking about how infatuated he is with the brown eyed human.