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One More Time

Chapter Text

Clara Oswald always prided herself on her magical ability to be on time whenever she had a class, an appointment, or in this case, a date. She stumbled through the cafe door, with tousled hair and sweat gleaming off her ruddy cheeks, hoping that Danny would think she was fresh out of the shower, instead of disgustingly sweaty from running all over campus.

Danny Pink.

Clara smiled instinctively as she glanced around for her “date”; the shy, mathematics student from university whom she had taken a liking to. She wasn't sure why she was drawn to him, maybe it was his adorableness, or how dorky he was whenever he tried to talk to her; Amy Pond, her flatmate, had pushed her to ask the poor boy out after multiple sightings of him staring at Clara puppy dog style.

The shy puppy was sitting in a corner quietly sipping from his own cup of coffee when Clara made a dramatic entrance of jumping into her seat with a wide grin, ‘Oi!’

His passive face turned enthusiastic in seconds, corners tugging in a timid smile. ‘You made it’

‘Of course I did’ She shrugged, ‘I just had to battle a few villains but here I am’

He chuckled at her theatrical air-punching, ‘Oh yes, villains from Gothic novels are the worst’

Clara jokingly punched his forearm for real this time, ‘Hey! I take my novels very seriously, you math geek!’

‘Right right, I forgot I was talking to a very serious English major’
‘And the only one who would dare and friendnize with the enemy’ She gives Danny a smug look from the tip of her haughty nose.

Danny decides to join in on her playful banter, ‘Maths and English can reunite their fronts one day, we can be the Romeo and Juliet of our age’

‘Danny dear, the only numbers I would willingly deal with are the page numbers in my books’

He clutches his chest and feigns being attacked, ‘Oh thats harsh’

They both laugh childishly at each other, and Clara feels like she can do this; she can sit across from Danny.

The silence slowly descends after their little exchange as their eyes find somewhere else to rest on in slight embarrassment.

‘So..’ Clara starts.
‘…coffee?’ Danny points at his own cup.
Clara shrugs, ‘Dont mind if I do’ and she reaches for his cup and drains it in one gulp.

Danny sits there in a trance almost taken by how carefree this cheeky girl is that he doesn't mind that she finished his perfectly warm coffee.

When Clara slams the cup down with a playful grin, ‘Sorry, I’m too hyper and I’m talking way too fast but you’ll get used to me to me over time’

When Danny does nothing but stare at her like an impressed five year old, Clara turns red and tries to joke her way out of it. ‘Also I owe that nerdy brain of yours a cup of coffee’

He still doesn't say much…or do much. ‘Okay then’ she points a thumb to the order station, eyes wide. ‘I’ll go get us some coffee then’

When she turns around to walk she hears Danny curse at himself; she hopes its because he’s been drooling at her, not because she was being a hyperactive freak. But that was Clara; quick wit, impulsive actions, and cheeky grins. She really just wants Danny to get past all her strange quirks and just try to know her; because he is cute, and Clara likes cute.

Lost in thought and mind babbling, Clara suddenly smashes into someone on her way to ordering.

‘Oh. Sorry—‘ the words die on her tongue as she finds herself swept up in the arms of a much taller man as he stammers his own apologizes. She doesn't know what has her so quiet and taken all of a sudden. She thinks its the eyebrows, or the thick Scottish accent. But as the man lets go of her after making sure she was a functioning human being, not a weirdo with a serious staring condition, Clara realizes its the eyes. Deep, intense eyes with a color she couldn't quite put her finger on.

‘Sorry there, Sweetheart’ the Scot manages to murmur as he takes a step back, leaving Clara in a flushed mess as she tries to regain her wits back.

‘No trouble’ she waves her hands as if her faux-pas could vanish away with it, ‘Its really my fault, such a klutz sometimes’ She sincerely prays her innocent smile doesn't look manic to the man. 'I really am very very sorry'

He raises his bushy eyebrows at her and Clara gives herself a moment to actually move her gaze away from those intense eyes to the rest of him. He’s thin and wiry, almost fifty maybe, but fit enough that his deep blue dress shirt clings to a firm expanse of chest, with a few buttons left to expose his throat that unconsciously it turns Clara’s cheeks red, his long legs were clad in dark jeans that hung loosely around his thin waist. And then his hair, Clara’s gaze strayed there for a while; a mop of peppered-grey hair in tousled curls that made her fingers ache to run through them.

Woah there, Ozzie.

‘Trust me, I dont usually crash into people’ She beams at him, ‘But I really do need my coffee fix’

His eyes brows were still raised in a watchful expression, his mouth slightly tugged to the side in a small smirk. ‘Well, I’ll leave you’ to it then. I dont think such a tiny girl should be drinkin' so much coffee, you never know, you might stay past your bedtime’

Clara stands dumb-founded for one moment as the Scot walked past her towards the exit, when she turns around and shouts back. ‘Oi! I’M IN UNI’

But its no use, he’s already out the door, and Clara doesn't know whether to run after him and give him a piece of her mind, or daydream of his lustrous curls. She orders coffee instead.


When she’s back at the table with Danny, he inclines his head to what she supposes was the dramatic scene with the Scot. ‘Whats that all about?’

She just takes a sip of coffee and dismisses it with a shrug. ‘I bumped into him, and he just doesn't know how to take an apology’

Danny joins in with a sip of his own, ‘Forget him, we have classes to worry about tomorrow’

‘Speak for yourself, Math Boy. I will have the cool classes with endless novels to read’

Danny gives her a blank stare in jest, ‘Still not seeing the allure of it’

‘Oh shut up you’ Clara realizes that she really can do this with Danny again as she tries to push the mysterious man’s intense gaze to the back of her head.

Chapter Text

Okay. So maybe Clara wasn't always on time. Here she was running through campus again like a loon, with her best friends, Amy and Rory, running after her.

‘Clara!’ Amy shouts between intense, heavy breaths. ‘Oh my lord, wait for us!’
‘OI, SHORT WOMAN, WAIT!’ Rory roars, a few steps behind the two girls.

Clara suddenly halts in her tracks, causing the others to smack into each other in a wild crash. She turns around and walks up to Rory, hoping she looks terrifying enough with her hair blown all over her head. ‘Did you just call me short?’

‘Well..’ He trailed, looking at the Red-headed Amy for support.
Amy shrugs, ‘It is an accurate description, love’
‘I am not short’
‘I’M JUST GENETICALLY UNIQUE’ Amy and Rory repeat monotonously. ‘We know’

Clara rolls her eyes at them, ‘I’m going to be late for class, and you two are no help’

First week of their senior year was just as hectic as any other year; and first week was especially hectic as the trio liked to call it “Shopping Week”, where they’d dramatically run around in circles, trying out classes and professors to see if it’ll click with them, and usually something does click and its forever their favorite. This morning they had tried out Medieval poetry which almost made Rory cry out tears of blood, then they marched up to a history course on the religions of the ancient world which has interested Amy so it definitely went on her list, and then an hour of human biology, and now they were on the run again. Clara still felt empty, nothing had clicked with her yet.

‘Alright alright’ Amy raises her arms up in surrender, ‘Just tell us what we’re so late for now’

Clara was already feeling tingly again at the thought of running. ‘Science Fiction in Literature’

‘Oh, Amy! she’s dragging us to one of her things ’ Rory complains as the two girls each drag him him from an arm. Things entailed courses from Clara’s English major, which usually interested no one but her. Which would also explain why she had discarded dragging Rory behind her and broke into a sprint.



The lecture hall was buzzing with people, Clara wondered what was so great about this course to attract such a large crowd. Well, she knew why she was here; firstly, it was a requirement for her to graduate, and secondly, it doesn't hurt that science fiction is something that had always interested her. However, Clara was pretty sure that this was not Rory’s nor Amy’s scene; and that later, they wouldn't take on this class with her this semester. But that was fine with Clara; she loved the couple but sometimes it always felt like she was nothing but a third wheel. It made her terribly lonely.

‘Half of the hall will be empty by the time the Doctor saunters in’

Clara glances next to her right where a blond with an amused expression and a laid back demeanor was sitting, busily typing on her phone.

‘Oh?’ Clara raises a eyebrow, pushing the loneliness issue to the back of her head. ‘The Doctor? Is he that bad?’

The blond shrugs, letting her phone slip into her lap as she refocuses on Clara. ‘Not bad, just demanding, you know? Its my second time taking this course with him; I cant seem to do what he wants’

Well that’s a nice start , Clara shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She needs to pass this to graduate; she wants to enjoy this so badly.

‘I’m Rose Tyler by the way, hoping to graduate one day’
‘Clara Oswald, regretting all decisions that brought me here’ that makes Rose chuckle very loudly.
‘Look, I’m a little experienced with the man, I think I can give you a few hints, yeah?’
‘I’ll definitely take you up on that’

Before they could exchange another word, the door slams open with a rushing figure emerging from it. Uh-Oh.

‘If you’re here for Star Trek then get out of my class this instant’ the Doctor tosses his briefcase to the side, landing on his desk. Then, twirling around he scrutinizes every single wide-eyed expression that turned to him.

It’s him.

It was the accent first, but then it was the eyes again. When the intense gaze falls on Clara, it clicks with recognition. But only for a second, that it makes her both breathless and irritated at his words from their previous encounter. She gets overwhelmed with the need to challenge him on how little she was now; how she would ace this course easily.

Already some students were shaking their heads and packing up their belongings due to the almost hostile demeanor of the Doctor. Rory was one of them; cursing and muttering under his breath as he slung his bag over his shoulders.

‘What?’ Clara hisses at him, ‘Already!’
‘I’m not going to suffer under that’
Amy tried to pull him down, ‘Rory, we cant leave her. Its shopping week! You have to go through this’
‘Cmon, Rory’ Clara almost begs, but then she doesn't. she never begs for anything in her life.

‘—Um, Clara’ Rose whispers under her breath, tugging at Clara’s woolen sweater.
‘Just a second’ Clara turns back to Rory, ‘Shopping Week is a pact, you can’t just—‘

‘Oi! The Three Stooges’ The three of them freeze, staring down at the slightly antagonistic Doctor. ‘Sit down, will you? or get the bloody hell out’
Amy’s face reddens with annoyance. ‘Yeah, I’m out of here, sorry, love’

Clara slides into her seat in slight mortification and watches her two friends stalk out of the lecture hall, taking note of how Amy glares at the Doctor all the way out the door. Clara slowly brings her gaze back to the Doctor only to find his gaze fixed on her. Yupe, he remembered her.

His gaze agonizingly and slowly slid off of her, and began to glance now at the half empty hall. He ran a hand through his tousled curls in deep thought, then suddenly his muddled expression clears up and he enthusiastically claps his hands together in one resounding sound, causing everyone to jump in their seats.

The sides of his mouth tug up in amusement. ‘I’m the Doctor—‘

‘—Doctor who?’ Clara whispers to Rose quietly.
Rose chuckled in an almost bored amusement, ‘Here we go—‘
‘—And you will surrender yourselves to me as I delve into your little minds and attempt to dissect them, for in this course everything you have ever known will be challenged’ he sounded almost giddy that Clara felt it was dangerously infectious to her. And that accent, oh my, something about him clicked with her.

Chapter Text

Classes went by quickly the first few weeks. Clara ate, drank, and slept with class reading material on her person, and then there was the growing situation of the empty tea cups infesting the flat. Which usually caused Amy to passive-aggressively march around their flat collecting discarded cups with Clara trying to look guilty.

‘Those doe-eyes of yours wont work on me, love’ Amy rolls her eyes as she heads towards the kitchen.

Clara drops her book and follows with a mischievous expression, ‘But the thing is, incase you haven't noticed, it did work’

Amy glances at her then drops her gaze to the sink filled with cups she was about to wash. ‘I absolutely hate you right now’

Clara hugs her friend from behind, ‘Oh, Amy, its mutual’

The redhead sighs in mock-annoyance then pats her short friend’s head. ‘There there, little one, one day someone will love you. OH! WAIT, speaking of love….’ She winks at Clara.

Clara knew where this was going; Danny Pink.

‘We’ve only gone out twice, Amy, he hasn't declared his undying devotion’ She didn't want to mention that she was almost avoiding Danny now, making up excuses of how she was too busy with classes, or maybe she was too busy thinking about a certain professor. No, she couldn't possibly tell Amy that , or even entertain any thoughts about her professor, no matter how much his Scottish accent made her squeeze her thighs in frustration, or how every time he looked at her, her skin inflamed.

Snap out of it, Clara.

Amy busied herself with the dishes, all together forgetting that she was “definitely not going to be Clara’s slave”, ‘but you like him, yeah? I think you do, you’ve been walking around the place all gooey brained from excessive amour’

‘I think you’re confusing me with Rory’

HEARD THAT ’ the aforementioned boy shouts from the confines of Amy’s room.

‘Oh sod off, lover boy’ Clara mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Her phone vibrates in her pajama pockets, her heart almost stills because she knows who it is.

‘Um, i’ll go back to my room and finish up some stuff for class’ She hurriedly grabs another cup of tea and scurries to her room to check her email on the phone.

Amy doesn't lose sleep over taking a piss at her. ‘Say hi to Danny for me’ She even winks at the phone clutched in Clara’s hands.

‘Har Har’

But its not Danny.
And Clara knows that already.




The next morning she’s standing in front of the Doctor’s office in the English department and she cant seem to stop the blood from pounding in her ears. She was going to turn around and forget she ever came here, forget that she emailed the Doctor with the lame excuse of needing help on her paper, forget the thrill she got when he emailed her back instantly and set up a meeting for the next morning. She didn't even know why she did that, she doesn't really need help; the paper is already half typed, half planned back on her laptop. No, Clara was here for another reason, one she wasn't quite ready to verbalize yet; even to herself. But there she was, up from 6 in the morning running on nothing but tea and intense anticipation. She didn't really know what she was anticipating; she didn't expect to waltz in and find herself pressed against the door with the Doctor wanting to have his way with her (She had those daydreams way too many times). No, Clara was afraid he’d spit an angry, impatient retort at her like he does with the rest of his students.

Soldier up, Oswald. Just knock.

She knocks and holds her breath.

‘Come in’

Bloody hell.

The office is spacious, filled with bookcases circling the walls holding all sorts of titles of so many leather-bound books that the bookworm in Clara almost feels giddy looking at them. Pressed against the left wall is the couch where a dark, velvet jacket was draped on the arm rest, along with the Doctor’s infamous briefcase that was always getting ceremoniously thrown on his desk during the lectures. And center stage is the desk, occupied with all sorts of ungraded papers messily taking up space, a discarded laptop, and several tea cups and mugs. Clara took her time running her gaze around the room, dreading the moment where she would have to maintain eye contact with the Doctor, but being the masochist she is, she brought her gaze up to the tall frame of the Doctor seated behind the desk. He was sitting back in his chair, legs propped up on the desk in front of him, he looked like he had been reading and she had interrupted. Oh god, oh god. He looks up at her from behind his black-framed glasses with his mouth in a thin line that Clara cant tell if he’s thrilled to see her or counting down the ways that he could obliterate her in one sentence.

She grins instead. ‘Morning, Doctor’
‘Oh, thank god’ He plops his book to the side, extending his hands up in thankful abandon to the heavens.
‘I thought you’d be one of those good morning people, because it definitely is not a good morning’

Clara stood there for a second trying to gather what has just transpired. He was staring at her, waiting for her to say something. What could she say to that?

‘Glad I could be of service, Doctor’ She thought that was good enough.


He beckons her to sit down on the chair stationed in front of his desk, ‘well hop in, wee hobbit, whats wrong with your paper?’

Clara slams herself down on the chair and tried to count to ten in order to curb the angry retort on her lips. She wanted to kiss the living daylights out of the man but he’ll go and say something as irritating as making fun of her height (which was completely normal for all human beings except to his exceeding tall, tall height) and she’ll be back where she was in the cafe wanting to screech at him. ‘I think i’m having trouble with trying to integrate the readings with my own idea for the paper.’

The Doctor watches her for a few heartbeats, deep blue? green? eyes boring into her as he seemed to be sizing her up. He was dressed in a green, fleece sweater over his usual white dress shirt, and dark jeans; he looks like he doesn't have any classes that day, like he willingly came to his office on his day off just to chill around?

‘Middle Earth to wee hobbit?’

She snaps out of her deep scrutinization of his peppered grey curls and refocuses on the man in front of her.

‘Sorry’ She already knows her cheeks are inflamed, he’s staring right at her with those eyes, and biting down on his lower lip; she cant seem to focus.

‘I was saying that its definitely odd that suddenly you develop malfunctions in your writing abilities when you’ve delivered several papers so far that were fairly fine.’

‘B- is not fairly fine to me’ Clara remembers her utter shock when he had placed her first B- in her entire existence on her desk after their first paper, she almost broke down in ugly sobs then started plotting bloody murder.

The side of his mouth almost tugs up in a smirk, ’Well you’re smug and cocky in your papers’

‘Am not!’ she replies indignantly, ‘thats called the author’s voice

‘Then lose the voice and the fancy words, and give me more concrete analyses’ He throws back at her, eyes blazing. ‘You dont have problems, Clara, you’re just controlling the paper too much. You’re not letting things flow out naturally’

It took her a moment to realize that she quite liked how her name rolled off of his thick accent, it made her spine tingle. But then she is brought back to earth and notices that he just trash-talked her writing style.

‘I am trying here, Doctor’ She points between them, ‘this is me reaching out and saying oh hey there professor, tell me how to get a bloody A’

She mentally slaps herself.

‘Looks like wee hobbit wants to be big, old Gandalf’ She sneaks a gaze up at him and notices that he’s looking at her with amusement. Alright, so he wont curse her off to oblivion; good to know.

‘I just have a lot on my mind’ She attempts at apologizing but he cuts her off.
‘Aye, that squarish face of yours gives you away’ he sighs, ‘look, Clara, just carefully go over things, dont force a connection, let the connection bind itself between the readings and your paper.’

Making a move to get up, he surprises her by getting up and walking her to the door. ‘Um, alright, I can let loose every once in a while’

The Doctor looked like he couldn't help but chuckle at what she thought is a pathetic example of self-humor, ‘Im sure you can, Clara’

They stood in front of the door now, and the daydream of him pressing her against that door with his mouth on her neck suddenly invades Clara’s mind that she’s nothing but blushes and incoherent mumblings. The Doctor notices her hesitation and aims to open the door for her, only to have both their hands tangled over the door knob. The tension thickens as their eyes lock gazes for an instant, realizing how very close they stood in front of each other; Clara could almost feel his breath warming her face. Steely-blue eyes, Clara concludes in that one mini-heart beat before she pulls her hand from under the Doctor’s in a rush, refocusing her gaze on his heaving chest that was in level with her face. His breathing suddenly turns shallow that it brings her gaze back up to his face.

Before he pulls the door open and lets her out as she mumbles a stupid comment on self-deprecation, Clara notices how his gaze falls from her eyes to her lips. It was just one flicker of emotion before he drags his gaze to a pinpoint above her head and avoids her gaze altogether.

‘Back to your hole now, wee hobbit’ he says in farewell as he shuts the door, leaving Clara outside trying to calm down the harsh thrashing of her heart against her chest. She saw him.

Chapter Text

Clara was sitting in the library with squared shoulders and headphones in one ear as she focused on writing her Science Fiction class’s paper; she was determined to show the Doctor how she could do more than “fairly fine”. She’s been in library lockdown mode for three days straight; she’d finish her classes and spend the rest of her days hunched over highlighted papers and blinking back at laptop screens.

It was a saturday morning, she couldn't sleep in, not when she had a kick ass paper to finish with perfection, and besides, the library was absolutely empty. The silence was comforting to Clara, it was her favorite white noise; no mumblings or laughing to interrupt her work.

‘Please dont tell me you slept here’ Clara whips her head around with wide, incredulous eyes as she watched the Doctor come up behind her.

He was dressed in an almost raggedy, grey t-shirt and black pants; he looked way too casual that it was a jarring difference from his “professory” attire of velvet coats and pressed dress-shirts. Clara couldn't make up her mind on what she liked more. He had a day old stubble that seemed to promote the casual look even more, and made it Clara wonder how that stubble would feel grazing against her skin. Not now, Clara. And his usually curly hair that stood up in various crazy directions had a damp and fresh out of the shower look about it.

Clara lets her hot gaze run all over him in appreciation as he stands there with his hips leaning against the table, arms crossed on his chest, looking down at her. ‘Hi, Doctor’

‘I have a feeling you didn't get any shut eye’

She couldn't bother with dressing up so early in the morning so she ended up with a long, green shirt dress coupled with her hair arranged messily in an updo, and the occasional black circles under eyes.

But Clara chuckled anyways, ‘Oh, I slept, no worries. I just have a very demanding paper to finish’ she raises an eyebrow at him.
She catches him off guard, she realizes suddenly. ‘You already started? Its not due for almost two weeks’ His eyes widen for a second when she shrugs at his question, but then he regains his neutral expression. ‘Thats very dedicated of you, you’re taking it seriously’

‘I take everything I do seriously’

They’re quiet for a moment, the Doctor leaned his head to the side as he studied Clara. She liked how he stared at her, it made her feel warm all over. But she had to break this tension, otherwise she might do something stupid; like lean up and smooth the frown settling between his thick eyebrows.

‘I didn't think libraries were the cool hang out spots for professors on saturday mornings’ She joked idly, tucking her spilled work to the side, and resting her chin on her hand.

The Doctor smirks slightly, running his hand through his damp hair. ‘Well you just uncovered my secret, i come this early for the raves’ he slips into the chair in front of her, ‘if you take a walk around into the deepest chambers of the library, you might stumble upon a wild rave.’

Clara giggles at his mock-serious expression, ‘Now that sounds like more fun than what i’ve been doing’

‘No way, young lady, you have a paper to finish’ he uses an authoritative tone on her, and it makes inappropriate scenes flash in Clara’s head that causes her to blush, leading the Doctor to frown again in contemplation as he sobers up and watches her.

‘Are you almost done?’ He asks to divert them from another tension-filled silence.
‘I think thats cheating’ she pulls the laptop closer to her just in case he gets any crazy ideas of snatching it. ‘you’ll see my paper with the rest of class’
‘But thats not fair, the rest of the class’s papers are shite’ he sighs in misery, ‘you’re probably the only one in class who has any idea what the bloody hell is going on in this course’

Did he just compliment her? Clara smiled up sheepishly at him, ‘keep flattering me and i’ll be forever spoiled, then you’ll end up with an entire class of shite’

‘Oh no, no flattery here. Get back to work now, wee hobbit’ he slips out of the seat and Clara is almost on the verge of asking him to stay a few more minutes before he slides his hands into his pants’ pockets and nods at her. ‘You keep working and i’ll get you a cup of coffee, yeah?’

Clara stares up at him with amazement that it makes him frown again. She recovers quickly, ‘I’ll be slaving away here’

He smiles down at her, and stalks out towards the coffee vending machine at the end of the corridor.


After a little more typing she feels a presence next to her, she looks up with a beaming smile on her face but its not the Doctor. Its Danny. And he has this lost look on his face at seeing her after three whole weeks of avoidance.

‘Clara’ it was like he was trying out her name, as if it rusted on his tongue. ‘what are you doing here?’

‘Well nice to see you too, Danny boy’ she attempts at a grin, but the guilt seemed to be dragging her down the drain. ‘I’m working on a paper for class’

‘Is it for that science fiction class that you’re always busy for?’ He asks, and the traces of hurt is apparent in his tone; Clara tries not to get irritated with him and she almost can’t with those innocent brown eyes of his boring into her own.

‘Yeah, its a pretty demanding class’
‘I noticed’ he murmurs, ‘I think you should take a break. Its working you thin this amount of workload’
‘Its fine, really. I’m used to this kind of thing’ she smiled weakly, he was right. It was tiring with all the amount of readings for each lecture and the increasing number of assignments by the minute. Clara admitted to herself that the Doctor is a demanding man with very high standards, but she wasn't just going to throw it all away because she was slightly tired.

‘Everyone says he’s a heartless man that enjoys torturing his students’
‘I really wouldn't go that far, Danny’
‘You look tired, I’m worried that he’s working you too hard’
A cough interrupts Danny’s virtuous discussion of my health and we both turn around to find the Doctor just standing there, with a steely gaze and clenched jaws. Clara gathers that he had heard Danny badmouthing him, she mentally slaps herself.

‘Um, Danny, this is the—‘
The Doctor interrupts, ‘I’m the Spanish inquisition incarnate’

Okay, he definitely heard the conversation.

Danny extends his arm for shaking but the Doctor has both hands behind his back. ‘Nice to meet you, Sir’

He only receives a curt nod from the Doctor, and then slips into the seat the Doctor had just been sitting in. Clara makes no move to point that out, she wasn't so sure the Doctor would like to join them after the little episode.

He glances at Clara momentarily, blue eyes burning her skin as they washed over her. ‘I’m expecting an A this time’

She nods eagerly; too eagerly. ‘Of course, and an A you shall receive’

‘Good’ and with a curt goodbye directed towards her, the Doctor heads towards the stairway exit and leaves her with an uncomfortable Danny who had started extracting his own assignments from his bag to do along with her. They spent the next two hours working silently except for the occasional banter and a quick run for muffins after whichever they agreed on meeting for coffee on monday.

On the way back to her flat, Clara couldn't shake the image of the Doctor’s disappointment as he hid the two cups of coffee behind his back before he had stalked out of the library.

Chapter Text

Monday came heralding early classes and an imminent coffee date with Danny Pink. Clara was not as enthusiastic about it as he was, but she convinced herself it was because she was swamped with work; just work. Nothing else. She could sit down with Danny for a few cups, throw in a muffin and then casually say she has work to do and hit the road. Simple, yeah?

Not so simple.

When Clara and Danny walk into the cafe, her eyes scan the room and in one instant, they fall on the wiry frame of the Doctor. Of course he would be there; the universe likes to laugh at her like that. But then, she could’ve not noticed him, she could’ve been all goggly eyes at Danny who had his hand perched delicately at the small of her back, guiding her to the table but she had to go and search the room, as if she was sure she would find him . She hadn't seen him since their exchange in the library, and his disappointed face as he left her nearly drove her insane in the last few days. She couldn't sleep, couldn't focus on studying, and could barely read one full sentence before her mind started to wonder. Then monday came and her class with him was later in the day (which she had been looking forward to too eagerly), but there he was, sitting in a corner reading with a hand absentmindedly rubbling his forehead. Clara wanted to go say hi, but her feet wouldn't move in that direction.


She blinked rapidly, glancing back at Danny. ‘That’s my name’

‘And you’re spacing out’ the math-boy grinned, ‘you really need that coffee’

I need something else but I’m pretty sure I can't have it. ‘Yupe, gimmie all the caffeine in the world.’

Danny picked a quiet booth to the side of the cafe, opposite to where the Doctor sat beside the window; somewhere secluded where they could talk. And Clara was pretty sure what this talk was about, but she slipped into her seat with a smile nevertheless.

‘First round’s on me, alright?’ Danny asks, knowing well enough that Clara did not like someone else paying for her. It made her look up at him fondly and nod.

‘Lots of sugar or i’ll murder you!’ He laughs over his shoulder at her, and Clara feels that this is a good start.

She refocuses her gaze elsewhere as she patiently waits for her date ; listlessly scrolled through her phone, checked her schedules and plans for this week. But in the back of her head, something was telling her to look up. And when she did, the Doctor was openly staring at her. correction , staring at her tights which she wore over her red-checkered skirt (which was discreetly riding up her thighs whenever she moved), and an oversized black, woolen sweater. Her cheeks heat but she makes no move to rearrange her skirt or even tug it downwards; she quite likes the Doctor’s concentrated face, and his trailing gaze up her leg until they connect with hers.

He was flustered at being caught, it was apparent by the red tinge at the top of his cheek but his bright blue eyes kept still on her until Clara felt exposed. She smiles at him, only to earn herself a sharp salute and then his gaze turns disinterested as it falls back to the stack of papers infront of him.

She thinks she’s never felt so hot and bothered before, that when Danny places the steaming cup of coffee infront of her she thinks of asking him for an iced one instead. But she shudders then easily grins at him when he asks, ‘Did you miss me?’

‘Well you know that answer will be influenced by what you just got for me’ She winks gamely at him.

Danny actually smiles sheepishly at her, and glances at his cup. ‘I’ll take that as a yes then’

why oh why can’t I just be happy with this , Clara miserably wonders.

‘I..errm..We, i think, should talk’ He starts hesitantly, causing Clara to drop her smile.
‘Whether we want to see each other again or not’

She takes a deep breath, glances sideways at the Doctor who seemed to be watching them but averts his gaze when he notices Clara looking. ‘But Danny, we are seeing each other now’

‘Yes I know’ He drums his fingers nervously against the table, ‘But I want to know if this is something you want, not something I’m forcing on you because I bumped into you in the library’

A sense of guilt grips her, she reaches over the table and places her hand softly on Danny’s. ‘Danny, I like you’

‘But…’ He looks like he’s going to be sick.

‘No buts. We’ll casually go out whenever one of us is free; you’re welcome to text if you want or call if you feel like talking’ she sighs, ‘And I promise not to let myself be swamped with studying and actually lead a healthy life’

‘And sleep more—‘
‘—and sleep more’ Clara smiles at the concern in his voice.

They happily sip on their coffee through simple, fond conversation and discuss classes until Danny glances to the side and emotions slowly fade from his face. ‘Is that your professor?’

She feigns surprise, ‘Oh yeah, its him!’ She slides out of her seat, hopefully not too excitedly, and runs a shaky hand through her hair. ‘I think i might go say hi’

She leaves Danny nursing his almost finished cup and actually saunters to where the Doctor was now distractedly glancing from his work to Clara.

‘Fancy seeing you here’ She raises her eyebrow in questioning.

‘Well a man needs fuel every once in a while’ he was deliberately refraining from looking at her face. ‘And apparently so do you…and your boyfriend’

Clara almost felt a wild rush at his tone of voice, and that accent; good god . ‘What makes you think he’s my boyfriend?’
‘Third time I see you two together’ he murmurs absentmindedly.

Before she can get another word out, he drops the pen he’s been holding in his hand exaggeratedly and glances up at her. His bright blue eyes seemed to be more accented by the light color of his dress-shirt; tucked into dark pants, with the sleeves rolled up. ‘How’s the paper going?’

‘It’ll be on your desk after class’ She replies smugly, glad at the appreciative look he’s giving her from finishing so early.

‘That’s a good Hobbit’ one side of his mouth quirks up, and it make Clara’s heart melt, but then hardens at his insufferable joke.

‘You know that you’re just too tall, its the only reason why you think I’m a Hobbit’ She huffs in annoyance.

The Doctor gets up, slipping on his velvety jacket and collects his things, ‘Are you sure thats the only reason?’ He pats her head, ‘I thought it was because of your abnormally squarish face’

And with that he walks out the door with the most amused expression Clara had ever seen on anyone’s face.

She stalks back to her seat, all red cheeks and irritation, and mumbles, ‘Insufferable’

‘Why was he patting your head?’ Danny inquires, amused at Clara’s show of anger.

‘Because i’m the little puppy he likes kicking around’ and likes to ogle at .

Come to think of it, she liked his hands on her.

Chapter Text

She was in the neighborhood, and she happened to come across his office; yupe, thats what she could tell him. ‘Oh and this cup of coffee? It was Amy’s but then she had to go off somewhere else, so you can have it! How did I know what you drink? I casually guessed’ Great, she was talking to herself already.

To rewind a bit.

Clara was walking around campus with Amy in one of their gaps between classes. It was one of those lazy moments of the day where they both thought they were free ; from scary deadlines, long classes, and endless papers.

‘We need to go out and party’ Amy declared as they lay down on the grassy floor.

Clara stretched out her rusty body, cushioning the back of her head against her crossed arms. She let the sun warm her uncovered skin. God , she needs to relax. ‘A good old pub crawl’

‘Amen, sister’ her red-headed friend concurs, ‘I’m free this thursday. You in?’
‘All in’ she could use a drunken haze to get over her Doctor-Danny dilemma. Lately, she’s been going out on several dates with Danny; they were sweet, so very sweet. But they didn't make her blood boil as stumbling across the Doctor on her way to class or the library throughout any time in the day did. Sometimes the emotional conflict left her in tatters.

‘Hmm?’ she was almost succumbing to the massive urge to nap out in the open and never wake up again.
‘Rory and I are worried about you—‘
‘—oh not you too’ Clara got up and rolled her eyes at her friend. ‘I’m fine, really’
‘I can hear you typing away on your computer at stupid in the morning or you pass out on the couch reading uni stuff’
Clara got defensive all of a sudden, ‘If i’m disturbing your beauty sleep, all you need to do is say so!’

That earns her a very aggressive shove from a red-faced Amy. ‘You bloody idiot, I care about you. I can clearly see that the sodden class of that insufferable man is killing you!’

Clara wanted to keep ignoring how everyone was right, and how she was so delirious; the Doctor’s class did consume most of her time, if not all, and she was struggling to perfect the work he asks for, yet still juggle it with her other classes. Its not because she was crazily attracted to him, it was because he made her want to the best.

‘You’re right’ she surrendered, ‘Its a lot of work but I have to do it’
‘You dont have to do anything, Clara’

She didn't know what to say to that, and what saved her from forming a reply was the ringing from Amy’s phone; she waited patiently as her friend finished her call.

‘Study group; I have to go’ She got up, slinging her back over her shoulder. ‘But this conversation is not over’
‘Yeah yeah, I know. Walk you?’
‘Sure, lets get coffee first’

They hit a campus truck, ordered coffee which they consumed in a moment as Clara walked her friend to the library. On her way back, she passed by the coffee truck again, glances at it, then at her tattered copy of her The Time Machine by H.G. Wells for her science fiction course and an overwhelming urge to see the Doctor grips her. Clara was still terribly stressed about her conflicting emotions and how Amy’s words rang true, she just needed to see him; maybe distract herself?




‘Did I interrupt something?’ Clara stands there mouth gaping open in the Doctor’s office, holding the two cups of coffee in midair.

The Doctor was actually standing on his desk, juggling books in each hand whilst leaning one leg on the arm of his chair to reach the bookcase behind the desk. The scene was so comic that Clara was having a hard time with controlling the inevitable laughter that threatened to explode. The Doctor slightly starts at her sudden entrance but regains repose and sighs in relief.

‘Oh, Clara’

She tries to ignore how her name on his accented tongue made her feel, and instead takes a few plaintive steps into the office. ‘Do you need some help?’

‘No no, i can manage’
‘you’ll manage to break your neck, thats what you’ll manage’

In order to prove her wrong, the Doctor manages to tuck the books into whatever space he could find in the bookcase and quickly slides off the desk to greet her. He looks almost smug at not falling.

He was wearing his typical attire; black pants, white dress-shirt, his burgundy, velvet jacket, and yes , combat boots. Clara liked how his hair was extra fluffy and curly this day; it made him almost look soft to her gaze.

‘I’m guessing you’re here for a reason?’ he asks when he notices her gaze wandering over him.

She snaps out of it, planting herself in the chair in front of his desk and placing his cup of coffee before him. ‘I seemed to remember how much you cherished your fuel, so i was passing by and thought i’d get you a cup’

His expression was unreadable, the only thing Clara could get an emotion from were his eyes; stormy and blue. She could get lost in those.

‘You didn't have to’
‘you’re right’ she nods mock-seriously. ‘I wanted to’

That makes the both of them smile warmly at each other. If only he’d always look at her like at that.

‘Thank you, Clara’ He takes a sip from it, taking a seat behind his desk. ‘But if I didn't know better, I would say you’re trying to bribe me for that paper you handed in’

The sound of paper made Clara’s heart quicken with anxiousness, she hadn't thought about that, and she hadn’t thought about the paper because she would get anxiety and wouldn't sleep and kept wondering how horribly the paper was and if the Doctor was showing it around to faculty members making fun of the mess of it. So she did not want to think about her paper.

But it was too late.

‘Um. No, i hadn't thought about it’ she was so irritated at how small her voice sounded in that second, even the Doctor furrows his brows at how meek Clara became all of a sudden. ‘But since you brought it up, did you finish grading it?’

The Doctor’s gaze locks with her gaze, it was like he was searching for something in there and it was giving him the hardest time to see it. He nods his head after pulling his gaze away from hers. ‘Yes, you’ll get it next class’

That makes Clara wince, ‘Okay, fair enough’

It was an tense filled moment that followed, Clara gingerly sipping from her cup as her eyes wandered around the office, not wanting to let the Doctor see how nauseous and afraid she was when it came to his papers, whilst the Doctor kept openly staring at her. She could feel his gaze all over her, it was both exhilarating and daunting. In any other circumstances, she would make it worth his while but in her anxiety-filled mind state now, it was a miracle she didn't throw up all over his desk.

Why did she want to do so well and impress him?

As if the Doctor couldn't stand her silence any more, he leans forward in his chair and lays his hand softly on her hand that was around the coffee mug. She meets his gaze, and finds concern there; his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes searching again.

‘You did great, Clara’ he nodded proudly, and she suddenly felt an enveloping happiness for pleasing him; anxiety and nausea forgotten. ‘Its an A, you listened to my advice even if it wasn't to your liking’

Clara wanted to scream out in relief but she chose to be funny instead, ‘Well i'll do anything for an A’

His coffee mug stops in midair and his eyes widen at her words, his hand flying off of her as if he was burned. It takes her a few seconds to realize what she had just said that coffee spews out of her nose.

‘I’ll listen !’ She babbles on; eyes wide and word-barfs coming out of her mouth, ‘Thats what i'll do for an A’

The Doctor's amusement seems to embarrass her even more. But Clara couldn't help but notice how his eyes glazed at the possibility of what she can do for him. But he composes his face, and only lets on his apparent glee at how words were scrambling away from Clara.

'Not in control anymore, eh?’ he smirks, getting up from his desk and picking up his briefcase. ‘I think I should go now’

‘Oh yes! You have class, and I need to go murder myself’ she was waiting for the earth to helpfully split open and swallow her whole. She quietly follows him to the door in utter embarrassment.

The Doctor switches the coffee cup to his briefcase hand and places his now empty hand on her shoulder. ‘Don't you dare’

It was like she could feel the charge flowing between them at where his hand was comfortably splayed on her shoulder. And she was all too aware of the growing warmness in the pit of her stomach from how intense his steely blue gaze was; washing all over her. Before she could stop herself, she's on her tiptoes, hands constrained behind her back as she places a quick peck to the corner of the Doctor's mouth. She heard his sharp intake of breath but was too overwhelmed to meet his gaze.

‘See you in class, Doctor’

she could barely focus during the rest of the day; her hands shook, her lips tingled at the memory of how he tasted, and her imagination ran wild on what ifs.

She even liked how he smelled, dammit.

Chapter Text

'Four pints coming up!’

Clara was on a date. No, scratch that; she was on a double date.

Alright, so she may have semi-kissed the Doctor, she may have wanted him to grab her and kiss her properly, and she also may have went back to her flat and screamed out her frustration in a pillow. Clara had unexplainable feelings for the Doctor; she hated how lost they made her feel. She could’ve gone to his office the next day, and fixed that childish, sloppy kiss but she couldn't and it wasn't for the fact that her knees buckle at the thought of kissing him but for the fact that he was her professor. Dammit, he was her professor and her hormonal, sexual feelings could cost him his job and reputation; she cant be that selfish. So Clara called Danny instead, she thought his available , sweet smile could cool down her boiling blood. But then she called Amy and asked her to join them for drinks because she didn't want to do something stupid with Danny out of frustration that she might regret later. But she couldn't tell Amy that , so instead she said it was fine time her best friends finally got to meet Danny Pink.

She places their order, leaning against the barstool while crossing her arms, letting the drinking buzz saturate her. One quick glance at their table lets Clara know her friends like Danny well enough; although Rory kept sending glances her way like This is a FUCKING saint , while Danny and Amy look too engrossed in their common interest in their jujitsu training. Clara’s eyes had widened when Danny mentioned his extra-curricular activities but then she had taken one look at his firm build and deduced it had to come from somewhere . Maybe the boy was more multi-layered than she thought; maybe this was a good idea, she got to expose him.

‘I didn't think that buying a pint took so much concentration’

She almost lost her balance in surprise, or maybe it was just drunk-giddiness at the sound of his voice, her back sliding against the clammy bar until a pair of warm hands stilled her into place. ‘And maybe this isn't the first pint you’re buying’

‘Sorry..I mean, Hi’ She took a shaky sigh and locked gazes with the steely, blue gaze her insides were squirming for her to meet. ‘Hi, Doctor’

The Doctor wore a slim t-shirt over dark jeans, his hair wind-whipped from the stormy weather outside. Clara liked the casual professor look; it made him human enough. While the rest of him was casual, his face was etched in concern; brows furrowed in a frown as he glances down at her.

‘Clara, are you drunk?’ he sits her down on a stool, glancing furtively at her newly arrived order of drink rounds.

‘Maybe—‘ She tried to still her elbow on the bar infront of her, only to miss and almost fall off her stool, quickly righted back in position by the Doctor.
‘—Thats a definitely’
’That’s enough, you should go home’ Maybe it was the alcohol in her bloodstream but his low, throaty accent seemed to be accentuated more that it was warming her body all over. ‘Are you here by yourself?’

She thinks of saying yes but her reluctance to answer makes him look at his watch then up at her expectantly, ‘Do you want a ride?’

Her pelvic-floor muscles where doing acrobats at his suggestion by then. Clara could imagine it all; she would get into the car with him, put a hand on his knee and he would get the message. He’d park quietly by the road and tear the dress of her, she’d ride him until they both came screaming. Clara feels dampness between her thighs at the imagery she had in her head, and the Doctor’s heavy lidded gaze did not help at all. But she wasn't stupid; this was her professor, and she was piss-drunk.

‘I’m with my friends’ she finally manages to utter; her tongue thick and heavy with desire. His hand on her forearm was unconsciously running lazy circles on her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Did he not know what he was doing to her? She needed him.

‘Where?’ His gaze followed her shaky fingers to where the trio sat, chatting merrily until Amy raises her distracted gaze to where Clara and the Doctor were, hardening her face all of a sudden; Best-Friend Mode on. Clara feels the Doctor stiffen next to her, but he does not take his hands off of her. She realizes she doesn't want him to.

Amy pounces on them, ‘Can I help you, Professor?’

‘I reckon your friend needs your help more’ His voice was chilly, gaze hardening as he gestured with his chin towards Clara’s drunkenness. ‘I dont think you’ve noticed how drunk she is’

Amy bristles but stands her ground. ‘She’s drunk, thats the point of a night out’

‘Is leaving her off alone and vulnerable also part of the night out in a pub crawling with vermin?’ the Doctor’s voice was seething with condescension.

‘Takes one to know one’

‘AMY!’ Clara suddenly wakes up from her drunken stupor, and glares at her friend.

‘See? She can take care of herself’
‘You mean before or after she almost fell on her face?’
Clara was getting pissed at being talked about in the third person. ‘Amy. Go, I’m fine’
‘you’re not fine—‘ the Doctor tries to put in but she cuts him off with a raised eyebrow.
‘—excuse you, I’m speaking here’
‘Yes, m’am’ he shrugs and steps down.

Amy tries to hide her chuckle at the little exchange with an attempt at looking grouchy by snatching the tray of drinks. ‘I’ll be at the table. when you want to leave, Danny will be ready’

The drunk girl nods and watches her friend leave. Clara turns back to the Doctor to find him carefully staring at her, sliding fists into his jean pockets. When did he let go of her? She felt the loss of his touch deep inside her.

‘Can I talk now?’

Clara nods, regretting the motion afterwards from the wave of pain clouding her vision.

‘you shouldn't drink anymore tonight’ He murmurs.

She almost bites back dont tell me what to do but his gaze was softening, increasing the pooling warmness at the pit of her stomach. ‘Alright, sir’

The side of his mouth turns up in fondness. ‘And you need to go home’

‘you’re pushing your luck’ she grins up at him, playfully shoving his shoulder. He stiffens under her touch, it makes her want to touch him again. ‘I can only say yes to so much’

‘That doesn't stop you from saying yes to every extra work I throw your way in my course’ the Doctor muses, eyes glistening in amusement at her.

‘Well you know what they say; its a whole other matter in the bedroom’ god , she even winks. Drunk Clara, what are you doing ?

His expression darkens in unabashed desire; it confuses Clara for one moment. She cant tell if she’s really seeing it or if it was the alcohol letting her imagine things. But he does want her, his restrained hands were evidence enough for it, right?

The Doctor takes a step back and breathes through his nostrils heavily. ‘Get your boyfriend to take you home now, Clara.’

This time she agrees quietly; afraid of his thick, barely-contained tone that sent shivers down her spine. When she’s sober tomorrow Clara can think over this and come up with a game plan to maneuver this Doctor into the one place she needs him the most in. As she was following Danny out the door, his hand tender and guiding at her lower back, Clara catches one last glance of the Doctor; leaning against the bar, hand aggressively tugging at his curly hair as his hot gaze follows her out the door with longing. She couldn't have possibly imagined that.

So much for trying to get him off her mind; what a failure of a plan.

Chapter Text

Clara Oswald was a force to be reckoned with.

No matter how much the Doctor threw at her; no assignments, no extra readings, not even weekly papers would crush her spirit. During the first few weeks of the semester the Doctor realized he didn't care much for the rest of class, save Clara. Clara knew what she was doing; she was a fighter. And at some point, he started to question his actions; did he assign extra work because it was essential for the course, or to just see how far he could spread Clara thin? But she was resilient, no matter what, she bounced back. He was gripped by the intense urge to push her to be better, smarter, more brilliant than anyone else could; it left its toll on her nevertheless. The Doctor noticed her squared shoulders whenever she walked into class, her exhaustion stamped all over her stubborn features. But when class starts, all signs of her tired state would be washed off as soon as their gazes meet over the lecture hall, she’d give him her cheeky smile and fall into the fast-pace of the lecture (It didn't pass over the Doctor that she was the only one who could keep up with his antics).

She made the Doctor’s pulse quicken.

But Clara had those wide eyes that quickly flitted through emotions in a millisecond that it left him breathless and with a palpitating headache trying to figure out what she was feeling. She had a sharp tongue that bit back at him whenever he would cross her, she had a wit that bested him and oft left him stumbling through words trying to come up with something to say, or left him quiet and silent, wondering where this woman has been all his life. And then she had those tights ; tights beneath unbearably short skirts that made his eyes wander dangerously all over her. And then she had kissed him; or at least, tried to. That incident almost drove him mad with want as he fought hard to let Clara walk out of his office without pushing her against the door and taking her right then.

But she was his student, he told himself time and time again whenever their gazes would linger too much over each other, or when she’d wander into his office and they’d get pulled into a heated discussion of whether Margaret Atwood’s books were science fiction or not (NO, Doctor, its SPECULATIVE fiction, for god’s sake.). He has to mutter out excuses that he has to be somewhere and run out of the office.

That’s what he is good at. Running.

Twelve years ago he had run away from Glasgow, run away from a wife that no longer wanted him, run away from the heartache of her rejection. London seemed like the perfect distraction from his fresh divorce. He joined the university and threw himself at his work until he earned a tenured position where he could take as much or as little classes as he wanted. He just wanted to forget. And so far, he was doing pretty well. Teach, do research work, read all the books he could get his hands on, and when he was free he’d occasionally hit a pub where he would get a few drinks and if he was up for it, play a few strings up onstage that left him more emptier than he thought possible.

With Clara Oswald in the picture, The Doctor’s routine has been thrown off balance. He lost sleep thinking about her, then lost more sleep telling himself not to think about his student like that. A fifty-six year old man, what would an ambitious and stubborn young woman like Clara want anything to do with him?


well she did try to kiss you , one part of his deranged brain tried to reason. But he shook the words right out of his thoughts. He was simply interested in Clara as an enlightened student that was worth the while, unlike the rest of the puny-brained students he had. The Doctor was also concerned about her, well, he found out that recently when he helped steady Drunken Clara at the pub. Her black, Casual Maxi dress that clung perfectly to her hips, her closeness to him, and his hands on her bare forearms were enough to get him drunk on the feel of her but the Doctor was too focused on keeping her safe; on taking care of her. It was such an overpowering feeling that it made him feel lost.




The Doctor walks into class with irritation nagging at the back of his head; maybe it was because of the incompetency of his students (well not all of them) or because he didn't know if Drunken Clara made it home alright. He had flashing images of Clara’s boyfriend and his hands on the small of her back; the Doctor remembers the clawing feeling in his core at the sight of that boy’s hands on Clara.

Bottom line is, the Doctor was irritated.

He stalks into the noisy class, his irritation growing by the minute, as he tosses his briefcase noisily. This causes the lecture hall to fall into silence. The Doctor inconspicuously raises his gaze to the back of the hall where Clara usually sits, to find her safe and sound with her cheeky smile ready for him, her luminous, brown hair pulled up revealing her squarish face, and curved cheeks. She wore a short navy dress with spaghetti straps over a white shirt; the Doctor couldn't help sneaking a peek at her lovely display of thighs. He shifted uncomfortably in his pants.


‘You lot confuse me, every single one of you confuses me’ He leans his frame against his desk, legs crossing at the ankles. He makes a show of staring at each one right in the eyes, to show his displeasure. ‘I mean I knew you were stupid, but god , for once try to prove me wrong’.

No one manages to breathe.

‘Normally I dont have much expectations for your papers but dear lord, you lot managed to drag it down even more.’ He moves his hands dramatically, ‘I asked you to pick a book and analyze it, and this is a class of—‘ the Doctor glances up at Clara, ‘Clara, how many?’
’18, Sir’ she replies, not non-plussed. good, girl.
‘A class of 18, whom are studying a bloody course on Science Fiction; a genre created by a woman ! Mary Bloody Shelly! And all of the 18, well except one—’ his eyes flits towards a Clara who kept her gaze locked on the desk infront of her. ‘—manage to not write about one book written by a woman’

Everyone begins to let out a sigh of relief, after finally finding out what the fuss was all about.

‘Are you all telling me that not one woman contributed ANYTHING to science fiction, nothing?’ He finds himself losing it, why did he even bother teaching undergraduates? ‘Can anyone please enlighten me on an example of a science fiction book written by a female writer?’

He catches in the periphery of his eyes Clara’s hand coming up. ‘Anyone else but Ms. Oswald!’ he barks at the wide-eyed students.

No hands come up. ‘ANYONE?’

Rose Tyler hesitantly raises her hands.

‘Ms. Tyler, yes?’
‘Um. The Time Traveller’s Wife?’ She glances down at him, hopeful and begging him not to embarrass her.
‘OH! finally, and the author?’ He claps manically, glaring at everyone sitting in silence, terribly trying to avoid his gaze.
‘Audrey Niffenegger’ She replies, sighing in relief.
‘Well thank you, Ms. Tyler. I feel very enlightened, dont all of you sorry lot feel it too?’

‘Excuse me, Doctor’

The Doctor twirls around to stare at JackBloodyHarkness, who was smugly shaking his head all-knowingly. ‘I cant seem to agree with Rose. That book is a romance, a chick lit

‘And what is the problem with that, son?’ The Doctor usually gets impatient whenever Harkness opens his mouth to spread his magnificent opinion.

‘Well Chick-Lit is strictly a female only genre thats so engrossed in silly romances, you cant put it in an eclectic and sophisticated genre as Science Fiction.’ Bloody Harkness leans back in his chair to gloat.

The Doctor promises himself that he will not lose it and start yelling like a madman. No, he will be civil, he will listen to others. He rubs his eyes in frustration and asks. ‘And what are you basing this on?’

‘My opinion’

The entire class stares at each other like oh, fuck. Here we go.

‘Your opinion?’ the Doctor whispers, ‘you’re basing your assumption of trash-talking a work of literature on your opinion?’

‘Um, yeah?’

The Doctor explodes in manic laughter, ‘oh well thats grand, son. your opinion! Jee, I wonder why I even teach a class like this, why I even bother to work at a university system where basing assumptions on concrete facts to back them up is important!’

He gestures at everyone in the hall, ‘Listen, kids. You dont need to cite your sources anymore, just do what good old Jack does, tell me you just used your opinion!’

‘Doctor?’ the smug bastard tries to intervene but was shut down by one murderous glare from the Doctor.

‘Oh no, you dont speak anymore, you entitled teddy-boy!’ His face was rushing with blood; all red and fiery. ‘the next time you think of belittling a genre of literature because you think its unsophisticated, you better have a fucking good argument backed by facts or else you keep that bigotry to yourself. Got it, Son?’

He motions to talk again but the Doctor cuts him off. ‘Shut up, and get the hell out of my class’

Harkness gets up and hurries out the door, huffing out in irritation. His face flushed with embarrassment at being stripped down so humiliatingly infront of his peers. Serves his misogynistic arse right, the Doctor thinks.

When he turns his gaze back to his students he finds all of them pale faced and almost on the verge of shaking in their seats. ‘Sorry, Doctor’ they all echo in unison.

‘You better be’ he raises an patronizing eyebrow at them.

‘And thank you for kicking him out!’ Clara cheers from the back with glittering eyes. Everyone joins in on her glee and begin applauding the Doctor, turning him red with shyness.

‘Shut up you’ he waves away their compliments in discomfort, thinking he deserves none of it.

But the proud look in Clara’s eyes filled his heart with something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He shouldn't want her. But, god, he wants her.

Chapter Text

The Doctor was in his office nursing a headache as an after-effect of his insomnia, when Ms. Oswald walks in her short navy dress. One day he’s going to get a heart attack, and it’ll be because of Clara’s array of dangerous skirts and dresses.

‘Afternoon, Doctor’ she smiles slyly as she walks in, hands behind her back conspiratorially.
He raises an eyebrow at her. ‘A bit late for office hours, eh?’
‘I know’ Clara shrugs, ‘I was just passing through and saw your light; figured you could use some charming company’
‘Passing through?’ he looks up at skeptically, ‘Why were you in the department?’

She throws her jacket and bag onto his couch and marches up to his desk. ‘Well if you must know, sir, I was with Professor Sarah Jane Smith, she’s helping me out with a paper. You aren't the only professor that takes up all my time’ she winks playfully at him.

He ignores the initial wave of irritation at himself for feeling upset that she wasn't here for just him. ’My paper?’ An attempt at a joke while he watches her careful movements as she comes closer, his breathing getting heavier with each step she takes towards him.

Clara rolls her eyes at him, ‘Not everything is about you, Doctor’

The Doctor smiles faintly at her and drums his fingers against the desk, eyes concentrating on Clara twirling around. ‘you have a lot of books’ she finally breaks the silence, wide eyes sweeping across his bookshelves. ‘Have you read all of them?’

It was his turn to roll his eyes, ‘Ofcourse,I did, I dont just put them on here for decoration’
Clara raises a perfect eyebrow at him.
‘I mean, yes I did’ he amends, earning himself a bright cheeky smile from Ms. Oswald.
‘Can I look around?’ She bats her thick eyelashes at him playfully, ‘please please please?’

God, help me, the Doctor thinks as he agrees for her request. He would give her all the books in the world if she’d only ask; dammit, he’d give her anything she wanted if she kept staring at him with those emotionally, turbulent eyes.

She roamed around his office for over fifteen minutes of hellish silent that gave the Doctor way too much time to stare at her; her brown hair pulled up in tiny ponytail, her eyes narrowing as she searched the titles, her dainty lips reading them silently. She looked hell bent on looking through every single book.

‘Are you looking for something in specific?’ He finally asks, exasperated at this silence and at how they were probably the only two on campus this late at night; too much temptation for him.

Clara finally finishes up with the two walls filled with bookshelves, and narrows her gaze at the wall behind his desk. ‘Maybe. Do you mind?’ she nods at the desk.

Before the Doctor could even reply she was already shrugging off her ankle boots, leaving her small feet clad in her tights on display. She climbs up on his desk and begins to lean forward to glance at the books.

The Doctor thought he was losing his mind. He must be imagining things; here Clara was, in a ridiculously short dress, with one leg planted securely on his desk and the other resting on his chair’s armrest, brushing against his forearm maddeningly while his blood boiled with the thought of running his fingers up her sculpted calf. He clenches his fists against the burgeoning need to touch her. ‘You’re going to fall and snap your neck’

‘Nope, dont think so’ she replies stubbornly, now on her tiptoes as she leans further more.
‘You can just tell me what you’re looking for, you know?’
‘Just. A. Second—‘ the Doctor couldn't look up, he was sure to find her dress riding up her thighs with something else on display for his already hungry gaze. He simply focuses on her straining leg fighting for balance on his desk, and hopes not to give in to the currently growing bulge in his pants. Control.

She was going to fall, ‘Clara…’ the Doctor warns suddenly.
‘Got it!’ she yelps for it was too late to hold her balance. Her leg shakes under the strain of her weight, and her tights’ material causes her foot to skid across the polished wood of his desk.

The Doctor moves his chair swiftly to the side in mere seconds, angling so that Clara falls directly into his arms, with him cradling her protectively.

They both breathe in and out harshly, taking a few moments to let it settle in how they were curled up in each other. The Doctor tries not to think of how she was comfortably positioned on his lap, and how he was having a hard time thinking with his hardness pressing agonizingly into her behind. He had one arm around her shoulders and another clutching her hip carelessly; causing her skirt to bunch up at her waist. Her warmness seems to be seeping into his skin that it set him on fire everywhere; eyes slowly lidded with drunken desire.

‘Told you I wouldn't snap my neck’ Clara tries to joke but her eyes lock with the Doctor’s hungry gaze and he already knows what she sees there. He wants her, loud and dangerously clear with how his fingers were tightening their hold on her hip.

Her chocolate brown eyes were wide and searching, with equal and unabashed desire. But she looks surprised. Surprised that he desires her?

‘But you fell’ the Doctor manages to rumble causing her whole body to shiver in his arms.

She opens her mouth to speak but shuts it and then tries again. ‘I wanted to see if you had this book or not’

The Doctor difficultly tears his gaze from her face to the book she clutches at with all her might.

The Time Traveller’s Wife. He chuckles lowly, ‘Ahh, I read it, yes’

‘That’s what I thought’ her eyes widen at his smile, ‘No one defends something like that without being connected to it’

The Doctor nods in agreement, ‘I’m just a silly man who likes time traveling’

‘Doctor’ she murmurs, ‘you’re no silly man’

He sneaks one glance at her heart-shaped lips and loses himself. He clutches her hip harder, and in one sweeping move, presses his lips to hers in a soft kiss. The Doctor thinks he hears her whimper against his mouth that it makes him light-headed. Her lips were soft and warm; the chaste, languorous kiss makes the Doctor pull Clara closer to him, feeling her respond by press ing her body up against his chest in a need to be closer to him. They slowly part for breath, lips lingering slightly against each other. The Doctor leans back first, watching how Clara looks; cheeks tinged red and eyes bright, with her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stares at him in wonder.

The Doctor lets out a shaky breath and lets go of her, hands gripping the armrests instead in constraint. He cant find the words to articulate any sentence. And neither can Clara, who scrambles off his lap, causing unneeded friction against his twitching bulge at the moment. The Doctor tries to calm his breathing and rack his brains for words as he watches her slip on her ankle boots.

‘The book?’ she finally mutters, voice shaky.
He swallows, ‘take it, you can take it’
She nods quietly, hurrying to slip on her jacket and grab her bag.

When she was at the door did the Doctor finally loosen his hard grip on his seat, allowing himself to breathe.

‘Doctor’ She’s halfway through the doorway.
‘Yes?’ his voice is too hoarse.
‘That was bloody amazing’ She murmurs quietly, with a certain warmness in her gaze.

She was going to give him a heart attack, the Doctor was totally convinced as he rubs his eyes shut against the conjured image of Clara pressed flush against him.

Chapter Text

Clara locks herself into her room when she gets back to her flat, rushing past Amy and Rory who were studying on the couch.

‘Oi! Clara, you okay?’
‘Exhausted!’ she shouts back, shutting the door. ‘Just exhausted’.

She slides into her bed with a shivering body, red, inflamed lips, and a dampness between her thighs. Clara couldn't think straight; her head only allowed her to revisit the memory of the Doctor’s, her professor’s, hungry mouth, the feel of his heat wrapping itself around her, and ofcoure, the tempting hardness pressing into her. God, she thought she’d unravel right there and then while she was on his lap. All Clara had done was go through a little book-hunting in his office, if she’d known that accidentally falling into his lap would push him to the edge like that, she would’ve started a book scouts club for god’s sake.

He kissed her. The Doctor kissed her.

And he didn't look too apologetic about it; more regretful that he didn't manage to prolong both their pleasure. Clara was even more regretful now; the pooling slickness between her thighs needed immediate attention, preferably from the Doctor.

Her phone vibrates on her nightstand causing her to jump in alarm to check who it is. Danny. Oh no, she cant deal with him now; cant even think of him. She shuts her phone, slips out of her clothes and rests into her bed trying to ignore her growing frustration.

She would be lying if she says that she slept. Because, well, she didn’t. Clara stayed up rewinding that kiss over and over again; the desire for the Doctor rekindling by the minute. It took several cold showers to calm her heated skin and eventually she got dressed at 5:00 am and left the flat (she was risking bringing forth Amy’s wrath at leaving with her, but she could deal with that later).

Safely tucked into her favorite cafe with a nice, warm cup of coffee, Clara starts to question whether to go to class or not. Could she bear to sit in that lecture hall with the Doctor just taunting her with that wonderfully experienced mouth and stormy gaze? Clara thinks she’ll melt right in her place if he so much as looks at her.

Think, Oswald. Think.

Okay. He did kiss her, and she most definitely kissed him back. He didn't look that regretful at having kissed her; so maybe this can go somewhere? But he’s a professor, and Clara has a boyfriend; she has safe, sweet Danny. Why would she risk all that?

Because he’s worth it.

‘Well I guess thats it, isn't it?’ She mutters to herself, gulping down her coffee in one go nervously. Clara Oswald never liked to admit when she’s nervous, but when she realizes just how far she’d go to be with the Doctor, that freaks her out immensely.




‘Alright, so Mr. Harkness has chosen to avoid our class this afternoon’ The Doctor stalks up and down the floor as he begins the lecture, Clara notices he doesn't spare her a glance. ‘Thank all the living and dead gods for that’

That makes the whole hall giggle in jest. Clara feels sick.

She sits quietly in the back where she always has, ignores Rose’s concerned comments on how “red” or “flustered” she looks. Well of course, she looks flustered. The Doctor’s hair was unusually curly making her fingers itch to run through it, and he was dressed in his full magician’s suit; the velvety two piece, crisp white dress-shirt, and his infamous combat boots. He had walked into class, tossed his bag, and then locked gazes with Clara; the fire was still there, his blue eyes hungry. That alone turned her warm and needy all over.

‘You’re not okay’ Rose whispers for the umpteenth time, eyes straight ahead and locked on the Doctor. ‘Like you’re going to explode’

Clara lets out a breath she’d been holding when the Doctor finally glances up at her. ‘Fine. I’m very fine’ She just wanted him to see her.

‘I’m taking a wild guess here but did you and Danny—?’ She winks at Clara.

‘—Ms. Tyler’ The Doctor’s brogue causes unexplainable reactions in Clara’s body that she shifts in her seat, trying to lessen the growing frustration down under.

Rose’s face turns into all sorts of colors then in the end, resigns to her fate. ‘Yes, Doctor?’
‘Since you’ve been paying such close attention, would you mind explaining the genre’s trajectory of evolution during the 20th century?’ His arms were crossed in front of his chest, brows furrowed in concentration as he stares at poor Rose.

Clara notices her friend blinking rapidly in confusion and embarrassment so she raises her hand in order to let her off the hook.

The Doctor doesn't see it, or purposefully ignores it.

‘I’m sorry’ Rose shakes her head, ‘I wasn't concentrating’
The Doctor rubbed his hands together as he went back to his chair. ‘That you were. Alright. That’s it for today, run along all of you.’

‘Professor?’ Martha, one of their classmates asks incredulously. It’s only been half an hour since he started.

‘None of you bother’ he mutters distractedly, ‘why should I? Now, get out’

Clara watches Rose, drowning in embarrassment, walk down to the Doctor’s desk and attempts to appeal to him, only to receive a sharp glare that silences her. She follows everyone else outside.

Clara doesn't move. She knows that he’s aware that she’s still in the room; she could see it in the tensed curve of his shoulder, the way his eyes were glued to a spot to the side away from her, and especially in the way his fist was clenched tightly.


None of them speak. But Clara decides she could restrain herself if she’s near him, so she descends down to his desk.


‘That was rude’ she finally blurts out, she couldn't quite look at him either. She busies herself with rummaging through the items scattered on his desk, trying to ease her breathing.

‘She wasn't paying attention’ The Doctor’s voice was terribly low, almost a growl.

‘That’s the thing’ Clara mutters back, stubbornly. ‘I was the reason she wasn't paying attention. You attacked the wrong person’

She senses him getting up, ‘I dont think Ms. Tyler was the only one you were distracting’

‘What?’ But before she could turn around, the Doctor was behind her, pressing his hard, firm body against her back. She’s assailed with the familiar musky smell of the Doctor that almost blinds her with desire.

‘You came to class’ he whispers in her ear, as if he’s surprised, lips lingering over the sensitive skin there.

Clara shudders, stifling a moan. This is happening. ‘I wanted to see you’

He pulls her hair to the side, exposing the neck to his mouth. He presses slow, deliberate kisses along Clara’s neck down to her throat, extracting a moan that makes him grunt with pleasure. ‘I wanted to see you too, Clara’

She almost whimpers at the loss of his lips. The Doctor turns her round to face him, her back pressing against the table. She was almost undone by the intensity of his eyes; steely blue that burned liquid.

'I thought of you all day.' He slips a hand around her waist, pulling her closer, his erection throbbing against her belly.

‘Same’ was all Clara could muster, desire clouding her wits. The Doctor chuckles at her dreamy expression.

In one brief second he leans down and presses his lips to hers. Clara feels her toes curl involuntarily. It was delicate at first, his lips soft as he presses one, two, three kisses.
Then he turns hungry; he kisses her like he’s suddenly found her. His lips bruising hers, sliding his tongue languorously into her mouth. It seems like forever, his tongue exploring every inch of hers, his hand pulling hair until Clara could not keep still longer; she had to fight back for control. Her arms go around his neck, sliding her fingers through his curls; tugging a handful in dominance. The Doctor moans against her mouth and Clara feels the wetness between her thighs grow damper.

The Doctor lays a hand on her thigh and pushes Clara to slide onto his desk, stationing himself between her legs. ’Clara' he murmurs her name, his voice thick with desire. Clara realizes it was a question; Let me?

Without any second thoughts, Clara grabs his neck aggressively and kisses him, biting and bruising his lower lip; replacing the lost look instead with a hungry one that makes him moan her name. He places his palm over her left breast and starts massaging it, making Clara want to weep because of the restriction of her clothes. The Doctor’s free hand travels lower under her dress, fingers skidding over her tights’ band.

‘I’ve been wanting to slip those off’ he murmurs into her neck. He attempts to tug it off but fails in the first trial, causing him to try to use both hands to tug it off; the loss of his hand’s possessive touch on her breast nearly drove Clara to weep.

It seems almost impossible to take off her tights that Clara begins to fear that the Doctor will stop then. But he cant possibly do that, not with his bulge twitching with incessant need against her thigh, not when she was on the verge of begging for his touch; and Clara never begs. But for him, she would.

But the Doctor stops.

He braces himself, Clara breathing raggedly and caged between his arms. She notices how his face burrows in thought, and knows that he wont go through with it. The Doctor focuses back on her, blue orbits seeing into her core. ‘I shouldn't have’ He murmurs breathlessly.

‘But—‘ Clara tries to counter but he nuzzles his nose up her neck, causing her to mewl in abandon.

‘We cant’ he steps away from a flushed and exposed Clara, separating them with his chair. ‘I didn't think..Anyone could’ve walked in’

Clara slides off of his desk, suddenly miserable at how far away he was from her. ‘We can’t?’

The side of the Doctor’s mouth tugs up in the saddest smile that grips Clara’s heart. ‘We cant’

She nods in understanding, begins to gather her belongings and walks out the door. She leaves the Doctor staring at his black shoes, fingers tugging at the front of his curls in frustration.
Clara couldn't tell if she was euphoric at how good it felt to be touched by him, or cold to the bone that he couldn't touch her again.

Chapter Text

For someone who is trying to avoid the Doctor, Clara looked as if she was deliberately seeking him out. or actually it was as if he was looking for her.

After their little encounter there was a silent agreement that they couldn't be doing this; they shouldn't be doing this. So Clara restricted her interactions with the Doctor only to during the lectures where there were other students around that it would cause her to restrict her growing tendency to touch him. And it was completely impossible to just ignore what they had. Clara had felt herself burn to his touch; how could they keep avoiding this?

And of course it wasn't easy.

Sometimes Clara would do something stupid like linger a little in her seat until everyone left, and the Doctor would remain seated in his seat staring at her in restraint. ‘Clara’ he would warn, mouth in a severe line and she would know it was time to leave before they did something stupid.

It was during those two weeks that Clara decided that maybe the Doctor and herself couldn't ever be anything, and she started to focus on Danny. Danny was stable, available, and being with him wouldn't jeopardize his reputation.

When she finally steeled her resolve and began to regularly date Danny; her now boyfriend, did the universe throw an unexpected curve ball at her. Anywhere she went, there the Doctor was. A few steps away, a breath away from her touch, that it turned her skin on fire just knowing that he so near.

At the end of the day, no matter how much her time with Danny was amazing, she would would get into bed with the thought of the Doctor’s hands all over her.




Clara spends most of her time in the library; and if she's not hanging around with Danny finishing up assignments or simply talking, she’s on the quiet third floor huddled on the ground between bookcases.

She had multiple books spread out in front of her as she quickly shuffles through them and takes down notes. If she’s too engrossed in studying and work then she doesn't have time to think about the Doctor, and she could get out of bed without melancholy dragging her back in. But as she was sitting there working, a rushing figure walks past her only to get his feet tangled up first in Clara’s outstretched legs, then to skid over the books and in the end to twirl around 360 degrees and fall face up onto the ground.

Shit. It was the Doctor.

‘Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!’ Clara gets up to give him a hand, only to trample and get her feet stuck in her bag’s hand. She falls in a thud over the Doctor’s firm body.

He lets out a pained, hissing sound and both hands fly to clutch Clara’s waist instinctively.

Clara waits for lightening to strike her down. Now? How about now? No?

She feels her body tighten in stress and frustration at the close proximity and their position. Clara sighs heavily and pulls her upper half up to glance down at the Doctor.

‘Well that was wild’ She tries to grin, ‘how are things down under?’
‘On the rise if you dont get off of me any time soon’

It took her a few seconds to understand, then the Doctor’s fingers were digging into her skin, and she yelps in understanding and scrambles off of him. ‘I’m really sorry’

The Doctor got up into a seated position across from her and runs a shaky hand through his curls. He was wearing a dark blue sweater that made his eyes glisten, Clara felt lost in those blue orbs’ gaze. ‘You have got quite the set up here’ His voice is gruff but he tries to side-track them to safer grounds.

‘Just on a study binge’ She gestures towards her discarded notepad.
He nods in understanding, thick brows furrowed. ‘Couldn't you have used the online copy of the books instead of opening up old, dusty ones?’
Clara shrugs and crawls back towards the books, noticing how the Doctor’s gaze was fixed on her moving behind. ‘Call me old fashioned, I like to have the real thing with me’

He grins at her. ‘You can say I’m old fashioned too’

Clara's breath hitches. She had never seen her professor laugh; not even once during lectures. There was the occasional smirk, a smug amused expression but never a genuine grin or a chuckle. Clara always thought that there was something perpetually sad about her professor; maybe it was the brooding owl-like expression, or the serious way he carried himself. But as he was grinning at her, Clara notices a crooked front tooth and she feels a warm glow in her stomach.

‘That’s probably why I like you’ she wanted to sound casual, but her words were too loaded with emotion and wide eyes for it to be just casual. And the Doctor notices which causes him to get up, slip his hands into his pockets and begin to march backwards, eyes still on her.

‘Don’t work yourself too hard’ He only manages to say.
‘Don’t assign so much work then’ she challenges back with a smirk.
A corner of the Doctor’s mouth tugs up in amusement, ‘Kill yourself with work then’
‘Aye Aye, Captain’
He finally gives her his back when he rounds the corner.



The next time they bump into each other is friday night, Clara’s on a date with Danny, whose hand was holding her’s as they sat eating Italian.

The Doctor had walked into the restaurant with a red-haired woman in her late thirties. He stops midway through his discussion with the red-haired woman to gape at Clara and Danny; his gaze falling to where their hands were linked over the table. His face hardens, then glances back at his companion and picks up where he left off in the conversation. Clara fought the powerful urge to take her hand away from underneath Danny’s and she masterfully does and keeps it there, but she couldn't stop the blinding feeling of irritation at having seen the Doctor with another woman.

It’s none of your business, Clara tried to tell herself as her gaze wandered after the Doctor and the red-haired woman, as they sit close enough for the Doctor and Clara to lock gazes. The red-haired woman raises an eyebrow at their exchange but shrugs in nonchalance and glances at the menu.

‘There’s a Hamlet play coming up this weekend, you in?’ Danny asks, pulling Clara out from her deranged head.
‘Well you know me’ she manages to smile, ‘Sign me up!’
‘Good. Another date then?’
Clara rolls her eyes at his insecure expression. ‘Danny, this isn't the first date anymore. You cant keep asking me out like we’ve just started dating. We’re a proper couple, yeah?’
He nods, a soft smile taking up space on his warm face. ‘Yeah.’
‘Now, eat up’ she gestures towards his still un-finished pasta plate.

That was when her phone vibrates.

She glances at it and almost spits out her food.
‘Are you okay?’ Danny drops his fork and begins to get up.

Clara coughs roughly and manages to keep a straight face, motioning to sit down. ‘I’m good good, just something got stuck in my throat.’

After she’d mastered her expression, she glances at the Doctor who was rolling his eyes at something his date. What could he possibly want from her now?


From: The Doctor < >
To: Clara Oswald < >
Sent: Fri, 8:45 PM
Subject: Italian foodie?

Didn’t take you for the italian restaurant type. I thought I gave you an assignment for tomorrow? Its what you should be doing right now.



Clara raises an eyebrow at her phone screen. Is he, dare she say, jealous?


From: Clara Oswald < >
To: Doctor < >
Sent: Fri, 8:48 PM
Subject: i do what i want

Hello Professor,
I’m currently on a date, as you are, and would not like to think of the impeding A- you will continue to keep grading me, no matter what I do.

Yours truly,

She sets her phone aside and bites on her thumb in anticipation.
‘Is something wrong?’
She glances distractedly between Danny and her phone, which beeps back. ‘Nope, just an email from a professor’

From: The Doctor < >
To: Clara Oswald < >
Sent: Fri, 8:53 PM
Subject: grades are non-negotiable

Got another email perhaps?

If they banter like this on the university’s server, something might be picked up by the IT section, so Clara emails him her other email address. And tries to focus on her meal and Danny, who was now pushing his meat-balls around his plate in boredom.

‘So the Hamlet play. Have you ever read it?’ She begins to ask.
He nods. ‘Well yeah, i think we’ve all taken it at school.’
Her phone beeps. ‘Probably, I guess you’re right.’

From: The Doctor < >
To: Clara Oswald < >
Sent: Fri, 9:05 PM
Subject: Oswald for the win???????

How old were you when you made this email? God. Anyways, what makes you think I’m on a date?

‘You’re busy tonight?’
‘Its a study group thing’ she HATED lying but she couldn't just tell Danny she was emailing the Doctor. ‘Figuring out when to meet’

From: Clara Oswald < >
To: The Doctor < >
Sent: Fri, 9:07 PM
Subject: really?

Says the egomaniac. This is a date-y restaurant, I would know; i picked it. Isn't she a bit too young for you? Just an observation.

Well that was definitely hypocritical of Clara, since two weeks ago she was panting and moaning the Doctor’s name into his mouth. But seeing him with someone angered her, it made her feel things she wasn't ready to experience.

From: The Doctor < >
To: Clara Oswald < >
Sent: Fri, 9:11 PM
Subject: No

I’m not the one going out with a BOY. I mean look at him, he’s all puppy eyes and no substance. A pudding-brain, really.

P.s: Just a friend. Her name is Donna.

He is jealous. Clara sets her phone down in satisfaction at knowing that, one, he is jealous, and two, that he is not on a date. She silences her phone and slips it into her handbag, earning herself a glare from the Doctor from across the room which she smirks back at.
He doesn’t kiss her like that, decide that they cant be together, and then get jealous. No. She was weak whenever she saw him at the university, so close to going to his office and stripping bare to let him take her. But not here and not now, she would make him miserable for letting go of her. So Clara spends the rest of the evening focusing on Danny and just having a swell time, all the while feeling the Doctor’s heated gaze all over her when she wasn't looking.

When its time to leave, Danny and herself head out to end the night with the Doctor watching them; arms crossed against his chest as his friend, Donna, talks on, and with him looking after Clara with hungry regret.

Clara gets on her motorcycle and heads home, falling into her bed with dreams of the Doctor plaguing her nightfall rest. She still doesn't check her email.


Next, it was at her favorite cafe after his class. She purposefully left quicker than usual, not staying back until everyone left to catch a few words with him. Clara couldn’t take this game anymore, but she wouldn't be the first to crack, thats for sure. Oswald for the win, she shouted to herself when she was 6, with her father watching as she first rode her bicycle without help. At 12, it was perfectly cool to have an email address with such a witty phrase, excuse him.

Let us both suffer, is what Clara thought as she was in the cafe, only to be surprised at the Doctor walking into the warm place. What is the universe trying to do?

She watches him as he shrugs out of his velvety coat that she came to admire so much, he seems to be looking for someone until his eyes fall on her. He nods at her and goes to place his order.

Clara shrugs at his curt dismissal and starts working on her laptop again.

A few minutes and two paragraphs later, the waft of coffee and the feel of a warm body standing next to her causes her to look up. He was holding two cups of coffee, with a warm expression on his face.

‘Finally’ she rolls her eyes playfully at him.
‘Sorry?’ He was confused now.
Clara grabs the extended cup of coffee and gingerly takes a sip, ‘You promised me that cup a long while ago when we were at the library’

His eyes brighten with recognition and he shrugs. ‘Your boyfriend probably keeps you fueled enough’ he slips into the seat infront of her and makes himself comfortable.

Dont get up again, please.

She stares up at him anyways. Surprisingly, the Doctor was sporting jeans, and a blazer, beneath it (Clara had to blink twice) was a black t-shirt with the word BOWIE in white print. The t-shirt hugged his torso quite nicely, letting Clara wonder how it would feel to let her hand stray over his chest.
‘I need to ask you something’ he finally utters, hand already in his silvery curls. ‘I know its finals week and you’re probably busy but I was wondering if you’d like to come to a gig’

Clara’s eyes widens, ‘A gig?’
The Doctor swallows at her expression. ‘Yes, its at a cafe I co-own with my friends’
‘Wait, hold up’ Clara straightens in her seat, and lifts one finger up. ‘One, you have friends???’ then raises another finger, ‘Two, you have a cafe! what’s its name?’

He rolls his eyes at the friends comment, ‘the cafe is called the TARDIS’
‘TARDIS? what does that mean?’
‘Totally And Radically Driving In Space’ He even says it in a straight face surprisingly.

Clara explodes into laughter, holding her aching sides. ‘Oh god, you’re such a nerd. I didn't realize its that serious’ she sees the embarrassed look on his face and laughs even harder. ‘Oh god’

‘Yes yes, you’re hilarious, Ms. I’m a control-smug-cocky-freak’ He elaborately wrings his hands in nervousness. ‘Are you coming or not? Wednesday at 8?’

When Clara composes herself and brushes the laughing tears off her eyes, she finally nods. ‘Alright, I’ll be there.’

‘Great’ the Doctor smiles; Clara almost loses her breath for a moment.
‘Can I bring someone though?’

His face tightens in irritation then. ‘Someone?’
Not Danny, you fool. ‘Amy and Rory. Wednesday night is our hanging out night, and besides they like exploring a new scene.’

‘I gathered they’re not my biggest fans but bring them of course.’ He sips on his coffee, glancing out the window in an effort to distract himself. ‘The more the merrier.’

‘Great’ it was her time to say, as she sinks back to work with the feeling of the Doctor’s eyes on her, watching her in fondness.

Chapter Text

Clara and Co. arrive at TARDIS on time; partly because Rory doesn't want to think about the assignments piling up, and partly because Clara was aching to see the Doctor.
The cafe had no window view, just a massive blue door squished between two apartment buildings that Amy shakes her head and says, ‘Clara I think you got the wrong address’


‘I think I can read thank you very much’ she climbs out of Rory’s tiny red car, ‘C’mon, its almost 8’


They shoulder-past the doorway and suddenly stand there stunned. The trio’s mouth gape open in astonishment; there was no point in masking their surprise, the place demanded their attention.


‘Are you lot seeing what I’m seeing?’ Clara yells over the resounding music.
‘That it's WAY bigger on the inside?’ Rory replies.
Amy tugs on Rory’s hand, ‘God, it's amazing’


The place verged on futuristic and spacey. Metallic grey walls with slashes of blue randomly painted on it, dangling spotlights that gave off an aura of spaceship lights, and steel-topped tables with high stools circling a stage. The walls that were not decorated with blue paint and tiny stars, were heavily furnished with bookshelves spanning up and down the wall. The place was brimming with books, and the rich aroma of coffee, and an ambiance of endless possibilities. Clara’s eyes were attracted by each and every aspect in the place that she didn't notice the Doctor walking up to her.


‘I take it you’re impressed’ he murmurs, blue eyes glistening at seeing her. Was he really happy to see her?


Clara shrugs out of her coat and gingerly hands it to the Doctor per his instruction. ‘Its definitely something’


She notices how the Doctor’s gaze widens at her choice of dress, his tongue darting out to moisten his bottom lip with Clara’s gaze lingering on those lips that have stolen away her sleep for the past few weeks. The tension building up was unbearable that she had to look somewhere else away from his face, or his exceptionally grey curls that were darkly tinted at the roots, or at his white t-shirt that exposed his throat, or at the way his jeans fit him snugly. Dammit, Oswald. She had a plan, a perfect plan to just be friends with this man but nothing was going right; he was always there tempting her, and the guilt at dragging Danny through all this, and the inability to dish it all out to Amy, all this was breaking her resolve.


But i miss him.


She didn't just miss his kissing, no. Clara missed hanging out in his office; debating on books and theories, or their quick exchanges after class. She really had missed those during the past two weeks, and now here he was, standing right infront of her looking at her with those blue eyes, sad blue eyes that she could drown in.


‘I like it’ she replies quietly. Clara then turns around and beckons her friends over, ‘Amy and Rory, say hi to the Doctor’


The three stand there for a moment glaring at each other; it was safe to say that Amy won the staring contest. ‘Cool place you’ve got here’


‘Its not just mine--’
‘--oh yes I remember, you suddenly have friends’ Clara smirks at him, ‘well show us your friends, otherwise you’ll be a hermit in my head forever’
‘Its an honor to be in your head nevertheless’ He winks at her and motions for them to wait as he fetches his co-owners. She stands there with a blush sneaking up her throat, and her heart hammering in her chest.


When Clara glances at her friends, she realizes her mistake at bringing them. Amy was staring at her through narrowed eyes.


‘He was oddly nice’
Clara shrugs, ‘maybe because I’m the only one who gets decent grades in his class’
Her friends still isn't satisfied, ‘so he invites you to a night out?’
‘You know Clara, she’s always a teacher’s pet’ Rory comes to Clara’s aid, that she gives him a thankful smile. He throws his arms around Amy’s shoulders and plants a sweet peck onto her cheeks. ‘Just have some fun, will you?’


‘Yeah yeah, fine’ she rolls her eyes at him. Suddenly her face turns red and she finds it hard to contain her laughing. ‘Oh god, is that a bow tie?’


The two of them cast their gazes where Amy is laughing and see the Doctor bounding towards them with two men. One of them, which was causing Amy considerable laughter, was in his mid twenties with shiny brown hair, a thin frame clad in brown pants, pinkish dress shirt with a loud-red bow-tie and suspenders. Clara thought his look was endearing, especially since he was grinning expectantly at them like a child who wants to make friends. The other one was in his late thirties, gel-spiked hair with a striped suit sans-tie, and white converse. She wonders how the three of them could have ever stumbled upon each other; such different people but with similar earnest, animated expressions.


The Doctor rolled his eyes at something the bow-tied man said then took his spot next to Clara, his hand ghosting over the small of her back. He wouldn't touch her, that much Clara knew but the feel of his closeness made her all warm and fuzzy on the inside. ‘The Stooges’ Clara, Amy, and Rory glare up at him, ‘meet my co-pilots’


‘I’m John’ the gel-spiked one said, ‘occasional physics teacher at the local school’
‘And I’m Jon, with no H’ bow-tie spoke, extending his hands for hand shakes, when he held Amy’s hand he faltered for a second narrowing his gaze at her. ‘You look like you fell out of a fairy tale book’


Amy raises her eyebrow in interest which sent Rory on the defensive, ‘Oi, I’m Rory, the boyfriend!’


‘Hi, Rory the Boyfriend. Your girlfriend here looks like a strange looking princess’


‘Strange-looking?’ The red haired girl snorts, ‘atleast I’m not the one wearing a silly bow-tie’


‘Bow-ties are very cool’ Jon says with a hurt expression, delicately touching his bow-tie.


Clara watches the exchange between them in amusement as the three bite each other’s heads off until John draws her attention when a certain blonde clings to his side.


‘Rose!’ Clara exclaims, her gaze moves from John to her to the Doctor. ‘You all know each other?’


Rose laughs, tossing her head back as John stares at her lovingly. ‘Well yeah, this here’s my boyfriend’


‘And I need to teach this little lady a lesson if you dont mind’ John murmurs as he draws her aside to the inner of the cafe.


Clara realizes that she’s alone with the Doctor, who was still planted next to her, eyes on her face intently. Amy and Rory moved to a corner with Jon as they all continue their small banter.


‘You’re quiet’ he finally whispers. Clara glances up at him to find a sobered, serious expression staring back at her. ‘You’re never quiet’


‘It’s just...we’re alone now’ she says, ‘it's been a while’


He gives her a searching look, probably wondering if that's a good thing or a bad thing. To set him at ease she smiles her dimpled smile at him and his steely gaze melts.


‘Do you like it?’ He gestures towards the place.
Clara nods. ‘I didn't expect my professor to be a cafe owner but i guess nothing surprises me anymore’


‘Just you wait’ he grins down at her like a child.




So apparently there is a stage, apparently the gig was not just a random band, and apparently the Doctor knows how to play the guitar. Knows how to play it really really well, Clara notes.

‘CLARA’ Rory runs to where Amy and herself were perched on their stools, a few tables away from the small, elevated stage. Clara couldn't take her eyes off the Doctor, not when he was playing so intently, his elegant fingers strumming on the chords like that. ‘Your professor is rocking the hell out of this place! How is that even possible?!’

Amy raises an eyebrow at the extremely impressed boy. ‘Um, Rory, you’re supposed to be in love with me not the grumpy professor’

‘But you can't play the guitar like that, CMON!’ He turns around and rushes back to the stage.

Clara pats her friend’s back apologetically, ‘Alright, he has officially dumped you for the god of punk rock; tough luck.’

Her friend laughs and shakes her head in bewilderment at her boyfriend’s excited expression, when she glances elsewhere her face sobers up suddenly. ‘He will, if Jon without an H doesn't stop looking at me and calling me Milady Pond’

‘I think its adorable’ Clara grins at Jon’s glee-filled face, ‘He’s strange but adorable.’
‘He’s raggedy, that’s what he is’ Amy rolls her eyes when he waves at her excitedly, but Clara notices her friend trying to mask a smile.

Suddenly the intro to Pretty Woman blares through the speakers in the cafe and everyone whips their heads towards the stage, where the Doctor is enjoying himself. His gaze, however, was glued on Clara, turning her face red in seconds as she stares back at his determined expression.
‘Wait’ Amy mutters, she stares at her dangerously silent friend who hasn't joined the cheering crowds. ‘Is he staring at you?’
‘Dont be daft’ Clara manages to croak, ‘Ofcourse not. There are so many people here.’ Her reply seems plausible enough for Amy that she leaves Clara alone and focuses back on the Doctor.

Clara however feels unbearably warm in her long sleeved dress, and her head was too buzzed up with drinks. So instead of asking to go home like a normal person before she goes up to the Doctor and kisses him to death infront of everyone, she decides to order a round of shots and proceeds to get wasted.

This will be a very long night, She tells herself as the Doctor finishes his number and nods shyly at the cheers and clapping of the crowds. His quirk of running his fingers through his curls and tugging at them gave away his nervousness; a quirk that Clara after much observation began to pick up on. She remembers how soft his hair felt under her touch as he kissed her, and she drains her shot in one go.

She was doomed.

Chapter Text

Ofcourse she had to come in wearing that dress.

It wasn't enough that he had done something impulsive like asking her to go out, no, the Doctor was plagued with dreams of her for the past two weeks that wakes him up drenched in sweat and with a hardness that frustrated him to no end.

But he couldn't stand by anymore and just see her get away. No matter how wrong it was, no matter how much that boy she’s dating is always with her; the Doctor just couldn't stand it.

He was leaning against a table with John and Jon when Clara walked in. His whole build softened at how she covered in snowflakes as she stood awe-struck with her friends; the same friends who had been with her when she was at the café and who had stormed off from his lecture. Her little dimpled face was filled with so much emotion that the Doctor wouldn't keep up with her. He was calm, collected, and resolved from the very beginning not to run at her as soon as she walks in, but that is until he got a glimpse of what’s under her heavy cloak as she was unbuttoning it. Ms. Oswald wore a shimmery black dress that reached her mid-riff, showing off her lovely, short legs. The Doctor remembered how fast he took a swig as he watched her, shifting slightly in his jeans to ease his ache.

His friends caught him staring, of course, but he didn’t give a shit. She was beautiful, and he would stare at her.

‘When was the last time you shagged someone, Doctor?’ John inquired, following his gaze to the three stooges.
‘Close enough’ was the curt reply, he didn’t want his friends noosing in. Especially not with Clara, his student.

He tried to behave for the rest of the night; tried to not look at Clara or at how she had smiled at him with her dimples, or how she kept tugging her skirt down, or how she was animatedly chattering with an angry Amy and an excited Jon.

Watching her as she sat with Amy drinking and casting side-long glances up at him while he was on stage, the Doctor felt his heart beats accelerating as if he had two hearts. All this staring between them, and tip-toeing around each other would kill him; he was just sure of it.



When he was done with his number on stage, the Doctor thought of seeking out Clara. He had invited her to come here after all, might as well spend some time with her while he’s at it. And fortunately for him, when he makes it to her table Amy was no where in sight. It was just Clara, lovely dimpled Clara with her luminous hair framing her squarish face.

But unfortunately, she was drunk.

‘Doctor’ she murmurs and tries to get up to greet him only to stumble and fall into his arms.
Alright, massively drunk.

‘I seem to be always catching you from falling. Oswald for the fall!’ he attempts at joking, but the feel of her pressed up against him and in his arms is no joking matter, not when he was a little too uncomfortable in his jeans. ‘Why are you always drunk?’

‘Because you keep staring at me like that’ She mutters as she hides her face in his chest.

He doesn't ask her ‘like what?’ because he already knows, his gaze has been burning into her all evening and he knows it; he cant keep his eyes off her.

‘You should go home’ he finally sets her carefully on the chair, making sure she’ll stay in place. ‘I’ll go find the rest of the stooges.’

Clara huffs out in annoyance, and shakes her head at him. ‘You wont find them, they left’
‘They left without you?’ some friends.
She nods at him then rests her head on the table infront of her, looking like a sleepy child who just wants to be tucked in. ‘Rory got jealous from Jon with no H at how he was following Amy around like a baby, and then Amy got angry at Rory’s behavior and they fought and stormed out of the place.’
‘And left you’
‘And left me’ she nods solemnly then rests her head back on the table.

She was too quiet that the Doctor thought she had fallen asleep but then she groans. ‘Clara’ he leans forward and asks, ‘Are you okay?’

‘My head hurts’ she groans out again.

The Doctor took a moment to make a choice, then surrendered and went to look for Jon. ‘I’m going upstairs, lock up when you’re done’

‘Yes, captain!’ the young man salutes him. ‘Would you happen to have Amelia Pond’s number?’
The Doctor raises his bushy eyebrows in questioning. ‘I thought her name was Amy’
‘It is’ Jon nods solemnly, ‘which is such a shame because Amelia Pond is much more magical’

The Doctor just stares at him blankly and then shakes his head. ‘Just lock up when you’re done’

He shoulders past the people until he’s with Clara again. She’s still nursing her squarish head on the table when he leans again and murmurs quietly into her ears, ‘Can you walk upstairs to my flat? I have aspirins, and a good cup of tea will make your head feel better’

‘Okay’ she opens one eye to look up at him. ‘But carry me’

It was an order, and she wanted him to know that.
And he’ll follow orders; especially from her.



His flat was impersonal and inconsequential but it was good enough for him and his minimal needs; a place to grade papers and sleep.

He carries Clara up to his flat, his fingers drawing lazy circles around her back. He thought she should stay like this forever. When he unlocks his door and turns on the lights, the Doctor nudges her with his nose affectionately.

'Can you walk now?' He murmurs in her ear.

'I think I can manage'

He lets her down slowly, hands growing greedy and angry at the loss of contact but she sways for a moment that he grabs onto her again. ‘Alright so maybe I’m not’

She tries again and manages to take two foot steps into the flat until she reaches the couch and tosses herself on it. The Doctor watches as she glances around the place to be welcomed with the sight of hundreds of books on messy bookshelves, discarded teacups, and some bland paintings that seemed only for decor and no sentimental reasons. ‘Its cozy and warm’ she says with a lopsided smile, ‘like you’

That earns her a genuine look of affection from the Doctor, who was leaning against the doorframe eyeing her. ‘Thank you’

She keeps her gaze locked on his and leans back into the couch almost melting into it. ‘A cup of tea would sound nice now’

He pushes himself from the doorway and hurriedly stalks towards the kitchen. ‘Right right! Sugar? cream?’

‘Loads of sugar, no cream’ she hollers back at him from the living room.

His hands shake all while he waits for the tea to brew, Clara was in his flat all drunk and scantly dressed, and staring at him with those big, Bambi eyes. How could he possibly resist that?

When the tea pot screeches the Doctor jumps up in alarm and frowns. He needs to get a grip on himself, he needs to take care of her; to hell with his turbulent emotions. He grabs her tea cup, loads it with sugar at her request and fishes out two tablets of aspirins. When the Doctor enters his living room Clara is still on the couch but sans shoes with her legs tucked beneath her; he tries to ignore how her dress was hiked up her thighs leaving him on the edge wondering what she wore beneath it; was she wearing anything beneath in the first place? He shifted in his pants after setting the cup on the table and takes a seat next to her.

She throws another dimpled smile at him. ‘Thanks’

He watches quietly as she sips on her tea and takes the aspirins all the while keeping her gaze locked on him. But the Doctor couldn't look her straight in the eyes not when she was drunk, not when they agreed to just stop. He focuses on her dimple instead.

After a quiet fifteen minutes filled with only the faint sound of Clara sipping on her tea, she finally finishes and sets it back on the table.

‘You wont look at me’ she states in a matter of fact tone.
He shrugs, crossing his arms around his chest in defense, against her? or against what he could do to her? ‘You complained about it’
‘Well I want you to look at me again’

That’s when he does, and he loses breath at the defiant emotion in her eyes. He watches her as she scoots closer to him until she drapes one leg over his lap and places a hand over his forearm.

‘The past few weeks were horrible’ she starts, ‘I couldn't sleep because of you’
‘Clara..’ he warns but she shakes her head at him.
‘No. Dont Clara me’ her hands sneak up to his cheek, softly drawing circles. ‘You feel this too, dont pretend’
He tries to control his voice but it comes out guttural ‘I cant pretend with you’
Clara purrs and presses her body against his side. ‘Your brogue isn't as controlled when you’re like this’ she nuzzles her face against his neck, and the Doctor’s eyes flutter shut at the intimacy of her touch, ‘Did I ever tell you that it turns me on? Because it does’

She glides her fingers up his face until they run through his hair and it takes a mountain of will power not to moan against her touch and kiss her senseless. For a moment there he thinks that he wont restrain his reaction but then he surprises himself and tries to pull away. ‘Clara, please, you’re drunk’

She doesn't budge but leans up and whispers into his ear. ‘That’s the thing; I’m so drunk that I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, Doctor’

He feels his cock twitch in his pants that he groans out his frustration. Clara wheels back and stares back at him with half lidded eyes; from both drunk-ness and desire. ‘Please, Doctor. Just kiss me’

She’s drunk, he keeps telling himself, you can’t do this, she’s drunk.

‘Not when you’re drunk, not like this.’ he mutters in anguished regret and tears himself away from her. ‘Up you go, I’ll take you home’

She stares at him in angry bewilderment.

He waits patiently by the door while she slips on her boots and then both of them proceed towards his car; Clara chillingly silent and the Doctor simmering quietly in desire. The car ride is quiet with only her finger pointing him to the way to her flat, and finally they were there.

She says nothing as she climbs out of his car, and neither does he. He simply waits until she wobbles through the building’s door, and stares up the building only to find her staring down at him through her window.

Chapter Text

Juice? Check.
Aspirins? Check.
Checked up that Amy and Rory haven’t murdered each other in a jealousy fit? Check.

Alright, Clara was ready by 7 am to start her day. She passes by the cafe to get coffee along with banana muffins and then heads towards her destination. She was nervous; very nervous. And although she was piss-drunk last night, she remembered quite well how the Doctor moaned and groaned under her touch. That thought alone had strengthened her resolve as soon as she woke up. But with being drunk when introduced to his apartment, came the problem of not remembering where it was. So she stood in front of TARDIS and hoped for a miracle to happen so that she could remember.

Fortunately for her a hung over Jon stumbled out of TARDIS with his bow tie askew and with a crazed grin on his face. ‘I know you!’

She attempts to wave but fails with her hands so full, ‘Hey there, Jon with no H’
‘Well thank you for remembering that, nobody seems to understand it’
Clara smiles at him sweetly, ‘for remembering your name right, I think i deserve a favor, yeah?’
‘Only if you give me Amelia Pond’s number?’

They both grin mischievously at each other.



So yes she sold her friend out and gave Jon Amy’s number but at least she was standing in front of the Doctor’s flat. She rings the bell with her elbow and holds her breath, body shaking uncontrollably in anticipation. The faint sound of foot falls and the click of the lock almost causes her knees to buckle.

The Doctor looked like he had just woken up; curls in disarray, stubble lending him a gruff appearance, his thin frame clad in a loose grey T-shirt, and dark sweatpants. He looks so adorably bed-ridden that Clara almost wants to simply drag him back to bed and hold him until he falls back to sleep in her arms as she ruffles his peppery curls. But her mission this morning was far from cuddling; it would hurt them both later eventually, but it might be the only way he would agree to pursue this.

Clara smiles warmly at him when he blinks twice in surprise; she likes how his gaze takes its fill of her, sweeping her from head to toe and back up oh so slowly that heat slowly begins to build when his gaze locks back on hers. She had chosen something simple to wear; a beige shirt dress that was cut just above her knees and black converse. Something she can slip in and out of easily.

‘Clara’ his voice was hoarse and sleepy still.
‘Doctor’ Clara takes a few tentative steps to the door, ‘Morning’
He leans his head against the doorframe, eyes softening as he watches her shift from foot to foot. ‘What are you possibly doing here? Dont you have classes?’

‘My first class of the day is at 11, I got time’ She was very close to the Doctor now, head only reaching his chest yet still she didn't break eye contact. ‘As for why I’m here; I’m not drunk anymore.’

The Doctor raises a questioning, bushy eyebrow. ‘Um that’s comforting to know’

She smirks, ‘Well yeah. I’m not drunk and I’m here for my kiss.’

Clara caught him off guard; the red tinting of his cheeks and the widened eyes exposed him and she had never felt more proud of herself at being able to unhinge her overbearing, know-it-all professor.

Before he could move, Clara stretches on her tip toes and presses her lips to his. It was a lazy kiss, the Doctor finally coming to his senses and tipping her head back with a thumb on her chin as he deepens the kiss, tongue nudging Clara to open up for him. She surrenders, for now, and lets him lap at her lips indulgently, moaning when his wet mouth strays to her jawline and nips her faintly there. oh god, he’s just woken up. What would he be like if he’s fully awake?

‘I think you should come inside’ he finally murmurs against her neck. ‘Or else that coffee you’re carrying will be all over us’

It takes her a few moments to gather her breath and ignore her inflamed, throbbing lips but she finally nods and follows him inside. ‘I even got banana muffins’

He rubs his hair distractedly as he shuts the door behind her, ‘I like bananas’
‘I know you do’ she sets her bearings on the coffee table and casts a hurried glance around the living room and it all comes back to her quite vividly. Her gaze falls to the couch they had shared last night and Clara gets a gist of all the things she had wanted to do to him last night in her drunken stupor. This was her chance; just convince him of this one time, it was just what the both of them needed.

She gingerly sits on the couch again and reaches for her cup. When she glances up she finds the Doctor watching her quietly, and finally he decides to join her on the couch. During his movement, Clara couldn't help but catch his hardness pressing against the thin material of his pants.

‘Drink’ she gestures towards his own cup. And when he grabs it she nods towards the freshly baked good, ‘eat’

‘You’re bossy today’ he jests as he takes a sip and hums in approval.
Clara shrugs at him, leaning back in her seat. ‘I’m always bossy’

She leaves him to eat breakfast and slowly return to the waking world as she sips on her own coffee and goes through her phone contentedly. They should do this more often; make out in the morning then have coffee before class. Clara throws a secretive glance at him only to find him unabashedly staring back, eyes as whirlpools of turbulent waves; she could drown in those eyes.

‘You got your kiss’ he states, brows furrowed in concentration, like he was trying to read her mind.

‘I did’ she finally finishes her coffee and moves to clean up their left overs, leaving the Doctor is the mysterious void he’s trying to grapple out of. She heads towards what she hopes is his kitchen and breathes out a little ‘Amen’ when she finds out it is. After tossing the empty cups and bag in the bin and washing her hands almost three times in the sink, Clara rids herself of her nervousness and returns to the living room where the Doctor had scooted closer to the spot where she had sat.

‘How about a deal?’ she muses as she sinks into the couch next to him.
The Doctor motions for her to continue, ‘I’m listening’
Clara takes a deep breath and sets on relieving all the mental speech she had been preparing since she woke up. ‘Obviously we’re attracted to each other, and its not a simple thing we can ignore—trust me, I tried— and then there’s our academic problem.’ She gestures between them, ‘you’re my professor, I’m your student. and the last thing I want is to get you into trouble.’

He nods at her, eyes serious and waiting. ‘That’s very selfless of you’

‘But the thing is—‘she stops mid sentence, throwing one leg over the Doctor’s lap until she was safely straddling him. She smiles at him as his hands instinctively rest on her waist. ‘—I want this so much to the point of selfishness’

She feels the Doctor shift underneath her until he teasingly pushes his hardness against her. She almost wants to nuzzle into his throat and let him finish her off. But she bites back a moan instead. ‘I guess that makes two of us’

‘Just this one time then?’ her voice is barely a whisper now, she cant even trust herself to talk. ‘Just this once, please’

She notices something in particular flit through his expression but he masks it, letting her only see his wild desire towards her. ‘if this is what you want’

Clara stills for a moment. ‘But do you want it?’

‘Yes’ his tone was too controlled and in check, it made Clara’s blood rush up to her face thinking how he would be like without all that self-control and cold reserve. That yes was all she needed.

‘Alright. Although I am not as drunk as last night’ she leans to whisper into his ear, ‘you can still do whatever you want to me. Anything you want, Doctor’

He runs his fingers through her hair in contemplation then slowly the Doctor pulls Clara closer until he brings his lips back to her mouth in one amazingly, sloppy kiss. Clara was squirming in his lap in expectation. Finally.

Chapter Text

Clara thought she was almost in a dream, a forbidden dream and that was fine with her. Well, she thought she was in a dream until the Doctor moaned her name. And the incessant throbbing between her legs was more indication that she was very much awake and on the Doctor’s lap.

‘Clara’ he growls in frustration at her.
She stills and watches him pull away. ‘What’s wrong, Clara?’

Grinning in her desire-filled haze, ‘Nothing’
‘Then why wont you kiss me back?’
‘Well tell me what you want me to do, Doctor’

With that something flickers in his gaze and Clara feels him twitch underneath her; it felt amazing. The Doctor pulls her to him one more time and stares directly into her eyes. Clara opens her mouth in anticipation. ‘Kiss me’

She doesn't need another invitation. ‘Yes sir’

She slips her arms around his neck and presses herself against him as she catches his lips in a long, breathless kiss. She moves her mouth against his in incessant need; tongue exploring, and teeth nipping. The Doctor meets her eagerness by grinding against her, eliciting a deep, throaty moan from Clara. Her hips move involuntarily in time with his, starting a build up in her lower abdomen as it clenches whenever his hardness presses into her. The Doctor had one hand nestled in her hair, and another running up and down her thigh until it stills suddenly.

‘Your tights’ he smirks into her neck in remembrance at their interrupted encounter in the lecture hall.

‘Not a problem this time’ she waits until he looks up at her, then she pulls up her dress just at the tops of her thighs. The Doctor inhales sharply as his fingers trace the silk material of her newly bought thigh highs, Clara almost thinks she hears a growl at the back of his throat.

‘When did you get this?’ He sounds in check; controlled.
‘After our little problem happened’ The Doctor’s gaze softens that Clara doesn't know what to say to that warm expression. She moves to kiss him again but he stops her.

She nuzzles into his neck instead to hide her face, teeth nipping the sensitive skin there, ‘Hmm?’
‘Are you wearing anything under that dress?’

Clara looks up at him from underneath her lashes and shrugs. ‘You tell me’

He raises an eyebrow at her in challenge and pulls his hands off of her. ‘Get up and show me’

She thinks about stubbornly staying on his lap but something about his tone makes her shudder in anticipation and she finally gets up but painfully slowly as she shifts against his lap.


The Doctor sits comfortably on the couch, legs wide spread in invitation, and his hands in tight fists on his thighs. The perfect painting of controlled desire; Clara felt the slickness more prominently at the juncture of her legs. God she needed him now; but fine, if he could be in control then so can she.

She finally takes a ragged breath and shrugs off her dress. She keeps her eyes glued to the Doctor’s darkening expression as he watches the material fall to the ground, and then his eyes travel back up to her exposed nakedness.

She might’ve forgotten to put on anything else.

If there was one thing she wanted at this moment, it was to keep that look the Doctor gave her forever in her mind. His eyes had conflicting, warring emotions in their depth but it took the breath out of her. And it seems that wherever his gaze went, from her glistening dark, mound to her perked nipples, it left goosebumps in its wake.

He moves to sit at the end of the couch, one elbow dangling off his knee as his other hand reaches out for her hip. The contact was electrifying and Clara thought her knees wouldn't carry her anymore. The hand on her hip slowly pulls her to him, and the Doctor moves closer. Clara didn't know what he was up to, and she was shaking expectantly, hands covering her breasts in shyness as the remnants of her boldness forsake her. Suddenly the Doctor’s hand slides down to the back of her knee, tantalizingly slow until he pulls her leg over his shoulder. Clara didn't even get the chance to say something when his tongue presses against her hot core; she gasps in surprise at the feel of him there and almost weeps with relief. She holds on to him, one hand between his messy, peppery curls, and the other on his shoulder tightening his hold whenever his tongue got a bit too close to where she wanted him to be. But the Doctor wouldn't let her have her way so easily, he had to make her suffer for it; its how he was with her in everything.

Clara produces all different ranges of sounds as the Doctor laps up her wet slickness, his tongue doing unimaginable things to her. Clara has been with men before, but none knew exactly what to do like the Doctor. When he finally sucks on her clit, Clara cries out his name and begs him; begs him to do that again. He stops and turns to look up at her, and Clara sees his red mouth and his stubble glistening with her wetness, it takes all self control not to fall on her knees and properly beg him.

‘Doctor’ she shuts her eyes and shivers in his tight hold on her. ‘Please’
‘Say no more’

He carefully sets her to lie down on the couch, making sure her head was comfortably against a pillow then tosses her legs over his shoulders. Clara moans so loudly when his tongue licks her clit again and again as her core tightens uncontrollably, but still there was something frustrating her and she was panting and losing her breath trying to figure it out. The Doctor notices her fussing and frustration and helpfully slips a finger into her wet opening. It was exactly what she needed as she started thrusting against his moving finger in complete abandon.
‘Clara’ his brogue vibrating against her slickness, coupled with his thrusting fingers, and his tightened hold on her thigh, she climaxes with one long cry.


When she was finally spent and wasted, the Doctor laps her up, his mouth and stubble felt harsh against her tender flesh there that it made her throw her head back with a throaty moan. When he was done, the Doctor slips onto the couch next to her then changes his mind and pulls her naked frame over him, his hands idly running up and down her exposed back.

Clara keeps her ear pressed against his chest as she listened to his erratic heart beat and thinks, How can I ever walk out of here and never come back again?

She realizes how stupid it was to tell him it was a one time thing.

‘You’re quiet again’ his voice was low and hoarse, causing her to shiver.
Looking up at him, ‘I just cant believe you could do that’

The Doctor smiles softly and presses his lips against her in a half-hearted kiss. Clara could taste herself on his lips that she moans again. She doesn't let him pull away but pulls him back and keeps kissing him while her hands sneaks down to the bulge throbbing against her thigh. She rubs up and down his hardness through the thin material of his pants until the Doctor groans into her mouth and presses himself into her palm. She picks up her speed until he starts panting and losing breath underneath her; Clara wants nothing more than to make him feel the same.

‘Clara’ she ignores him and her hands begin to travel up to the waistband of his pants, nipping at his lower lip. ‘Clara just wait’

When she almost slips her hand underneath his pants he wrenches her wrist to the side. ‘No, I..I dont have condoms here. We can't’

‘But..I..’ She feels lost at finding the right words to say.
‘Dont start something we cant end’ He closes his eyes as he talks, ‘I enjoyed giving you pleasure as much as you were so its fine’

Clara damn well knew it wasn't fine but what could she do? He was right, the last thing she wanted to stress about was finals not an incoming pregnancy, and besides, she didn't want to leave things in bad shape. ‘Alright, if that’s what you want’
He runs his hand up her back causing her to shiver again; how could he makes her feel such things? He smiles at that. ‘Its what I want’

‘Okay’ she smiles sweetly at him, ‘You’re fucking good’
‘Language, Wee Hobbit’ he corrects sternly, her professor-tone back; it turned her on all over again. She needed to get out before she loses it.

‘I’m going to be late for class’ she announces in the quiet room, nothing but their heavy panting filling the silence. ‘But before I leave, can I ask a favor?’

He watches her as she gets up and picks up her clothes. ‘Anything you want’
‘Can you kiss me one last time?’

The Doctor grins as he gets up, snatching her dress from her arms and tossing it back to the floor. He grabs her hips and kisses her until she pulls one of his hands up to her breast and his fingers tweak her aching nipples. God, he was fucking good.



When she goes back to the flat to shower and change, her entire body is still tingling and tender from the Doctor. Clara felt almost regretful at washing away his touches but she had classes to go to and the rest of the semester to survive till she could find a way around this issue with the Doctor and to figure out what to do with Danny.

But until then, one more time wouldn't hurt, right?

Clara Oswald, you are doomed, she tells herself as she walks to class with Amy chirping about a weird caller that keeps ringing her phone wont tell her who he is.

Chapter Text

He cancels his classes that morning, he could barely breathe when Clara left the apartment; finally clothed and away from his greedy grasp.

The Doctor couldn't possibly go out and talk and give lectures, not when he was still trying to believe that Clara came to him this morning, naked under that dress of hers, and she had wanted this. He couldn't meet her in class just yet; he needed to think, to figure out what she had done to him.

‘You look down in the dumps’ John tells him the following friday night as they’re both having drinks in TARDIS.
‘Sorry that my flower isn't blooming as always’ was what the Doctor manages to reply without releasing any pitiful answers.
John sips on his drink and throws a searching glance through the patrons of the cafe, ‘well your cheerful self is the reason for my existence’
‘I thought Rose was your reason for existence’
‘Someone is jealous’

The Doctor rolls his eyes, ‘I am most definitely not jealous of your wee blonde girlfriend’
‘Oh yes I forgot’ John grins, ‘you just like to fail her’
‘She got what she worked for, which was null’
‘You’re definitely down in the dumps’
‘oh jesus’ the Doctor empties his cup in one go; what was he doing? Why cant he stop thinking about Clara?

‘Dont give up hope yet’ John elbows him and gestures to the other side of the cafe, ‘the night is young and full of surprises’

The Doctor glances where John was pointing and almost chokes on his drink, there Clara was; perched on a table with her laptop propped open and her notes stretched out before as she bent over them in concentration. She wore a burgundy, draped skirt with basic black t-shirt that hugged her petite frame, the Doctor couldn't help but appraise her appreciatively, especially with her hair pulled up in a pony tail with only a section of her bangs falling over her eyes. He could stare at her as she studied forever.

‘That’s Rose’s friend, right?’ John wakes him from the intense staring.
The Doctor nods, ‘Clara’
‘Hmm’ his friend winks at him, ‘you should go say hi’
‘You should mind your own business’
‘Well she keeps staring at you every two seconds’
‘No she doesn't, that's my student you're talking about’
And he did, and she was glancing at him in expectation, bitting on her pen's cap. When their gazes meet she gives him a small, dimpled smile, as if she was unsure what to do, unsure of where they stood.

He hadn't seen her for a whole day and it felt like a very long while, it causes him to tip his glass back in a hurry and slide off his stool.

‘I wish i had such a warm welcoming professor like you when I was still in Uni'

'Oh go snog your blondie girlfriend'

He ignores John's snicker, and ignores how his heart was thrumming against his chest as he approaches her studying station.

'Hi' Clara moves her things around to make space for him.
He thinks of slipping into the booth next to her but choose to sit across from her; a little restraint never killed anyone. It just left him drowning in frustration.

'Hello Hello'

They sit there for a moment, quiet and staring; the Doctor couldn't decipher whats in Clara's luminous brown eyes.

'You cancelled class yesterday'
'I'm aware yes'
'Well that was disappointing' she scribbles idly in the margins of her notebook, her gaze shying away from him.
'I think most of the class didn't share the same sentiment' he notices the increasing frown and he wants to make it disappear. 'I could hear the party sounds all the way up here from campus'

She grins at that, 'i did try to tell them to keep it down'
'Well party over because it was just the first and only time' he wants to punch himself when he realizes what his pudding brain allowed him to say.
He watches how Clara's hand stills in her scribbles and she glances up at him in trepidation.
'Right' she nods, 'right yes'

He tries to change the topic when the silence becomes unbearable and her eyes pull him into a whirlpool of emotions. 'What brings you here?'
'I thought of studying here' she gestures around the place, 'a change of scenery'
'Good choice' he glances to the counter, 'atleast here I can make sure you'll eat something, unlike at the library'

One side of her mouth pulls up into a secretive smile, her cheeks reddening, 'someone's been spying on me'

The Doctor runs his hand through his hair nervously, biting his lips, 'not spying, just objectively observing my student's behavior. You really don't take care of yourself'

'I have coffee between studying sessions' she tries to defend herself.
'Thats not good enough' he stares pointedly at her. 'Did you eat anything today?'
'Rory got us pastries in the morning' she looks like the Doctor had caught her red handed.
'We make very good fish and chips, i'll get you one; on the house'
'No you don't need to, really' she clutches his hand as he moves to get up.

He stiffens under her touch, the rush of how much he needed the feel of her against him assails the Doctor and he doesn't know how he's still breathing with her warm fingers grazing his skin.
'I don't need to' he stares at anywhere else but at her, 'I want to'

She removes her hand, and sighs heavily. 'Okay, but get some for yourself because I wont eat alone'
‘Yes, M'am' he motions to get up again when he decides to look at her.

She was staring back, head tilted to the side with her face unreadable to the Doctor; her eyes were doing that thing again when they were a hurricane of shifting emotions that the Doctor can never tell if she's happy or upset. 'I think I miss you' she whispers breathlessly.

He lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding. 'I think I miss you too, Clara'

Chapter Text

Clara Oswald was in a deep slumber when her phone went off like a shrieking siren. She groans out in frustration as she reaches for the phone, knocking out all the contents of her night stand onto the floor. Leaning down to reach the phone, she topples after and hits the wooden floor.

‘Dammit’ Clara curses out into the empty bedroom then swipes her phone open. ‘I fell out of bed for you, this better be worth it’
There was a snort on the other side, ‘you didn't fall off Misty Mountain, wee hobbit. Suck it up’
Clara was washed in warmth by his thick brogue; the Doctor sounds gruff like he had just woken up, still in bed. Her mind went on an adventure with images of a sleepy Doctor flitting through. ‘I’m not short; I will not repeat this again.’ She starts suddenly, ‘You’re a LOTR nerd, did I tell you that before?’

He ignored that. ‘Do you sleep in tiny beds like Snow White’s dwarves?’ the Doctor was enjoying this way too much. ‘Ah! are you Grumpy? You sound like Grumpy’

‘I’m still waiting for a reason of this call’ she tried to stop herself from smiling but she was so sure he could hear it in her voice.

‘Just curious about whether you’re a morning person or not’ he stills into silence for a moment that Clara almost thinks he had disconnected. ‘Are you coming to TARDIS today?’

He wants to see her. ‘Well its a saturday, I need to study somewhere’
‘Coffee and muffins will be waiting for you. twenty minutes’
She ignores her heart’s faint fluttering at his determination but she couldn't help and challenge him. ‘Dont boss me around, Professor.’ he sighs into the phone. ‘OI! where did you get my number?’
‘I have my ways, and Clara—‘ he’s getting up, the bed creaking underneath him. ‘Twenty minutes’

He actually ends the call.



After an incredibly quick shower, and getting into clothes that she cant remember, Clara finally makes it in front of TARDIS but thirty not twenty minutes had passed by.

Would the Doctor be upset?

You really shouldn't care, a surly voice in her head reprimands her as she shoulders through the doorway. It was still early in the morning for patrons to make their selves known, and it was a saturday after all, everyone should be in their beds dozing off softly. But no, Clara was up and about, and the reason for that was sitting in the usual spot with his legs sprawled in front of his as he tipped his head backwards once he caught sight of Clara.

Clara decides that she likes him best in the morning; hair disheveled in shiny curls, fresh stubble that ofcourse he wouldn't bother to shave, and a certain softness in his steely, blue eyes. He wore thick-rimmed glasses this morning, reading aid most probably since he had a paperback tossed in front of him, and black jeans with a burgundy sweater. Clara feels herself soften at the warm, cozy sight of him, grinning up at him.

‘Late late late’ he mutters, getting up to help her take her coat off. The gesture tugs at Clara’s heart but she braces herself as his fingers trail down her forearms.
‘I dont live nearby if you haven’t noticed’
The Doctor stills for a moment, then drapes her coat on the other empty chair next to him. ‘Well, I dont know where you live’
Nonplused Clara responds with, ‘Come over for coffee one time’, then she wants to take it back because she couldn't possibly bring him home with her, not with Amy and Rory there. There would be questions thrown at her and she wouldn't know how to answer that. Why is your professor around so much? Why are you looking at him like you want to devour him? Why invite him over for coffee?

Clara watches his half-felt smile on his soft lips as he shakes his head dismissively, and realizes; I want him around so much because I’m crazily developing intense feelings for my professor.

‘Final’s week, eh?’ he restores the amiable conversation again, as he gestures for her to eat.

She bites into the warm muffin and nods. ‘Barely surviving, but atleast I’ll finally be done’

‘Oh and here I am, thinking you’d be crushed to pieces at not taking my course any longer.’

She glances at him cautiously but see the contained humor in his eyes and rolls her eyes jokingly, ‘My god, you were like an overbearing Hitler’

‘Now thats beneath you, Clara’

They both laugh wholeheartedly, and the Doctor looks softer and more relaxed in the sunlight coming through the windows that Clara feels herself grow more and more used to him.

‘Well, I wont distract you, get on with your work’ he moves to collect the empty cups of coffee and plates when Clara places her hand over his own.

‘Stay’ she stares at him unblinking, seeing the warring thoughts going on behind his steady gaze. ‘I want you to’

He doesn't reply, just nods and carefully sits back with his paperback in his hand as he shifts his gaze back to the page.

They’re both quiet after that; the Doctor calmly sifting through the pages but it took him very little time to finish a page that Clara starts to think that he really wasn't concentrating that much. Neither did she, in that case, since she was too acutely aware of every shift and sigh his body produced next to hers. Sometimes, he would stretch his legs and they would brush up against her own, and she would send a silent thank you to herself for choosing to wear thick pants, otherwise her composed face would be much too red for her liking. At one time, she had done something equally stupid and looped her leg around his chair, difficultly pulling his chair closer to hers.

‘Such strength for such a wee hobbit’

She raises a challenging eyebrow at his smirk. He chooses to hide it behind his book.

It was too much fun to provoke him instead of studying. She pushed her notes and books away and turned her body towards him; chin on hands like she was studying his likeness.

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer’ He doesn't look up at her, but Clara knows he’s not as unfazed as he seems.

She shrugs and moves to grab her phone. ‘Not a bad idea, actually’

‘Oh for god’s sake’ he tries to intercept her and clutches her wrist. As if she had burnt him, the Doctor snatches his hand away with a frown on his face.

Clara nevertheless leans forwards and smiles her dimples at him. ‘If I didn't know better, I would say you want to kiss me’

‘It’s that apparent?’ the Doctor glances at the cafe patrons around them, thankfully no one is interested enough to focus on them.

‘Crystal clear’

‘Well I shouldn't’ he throws back at her, inching in closer to Clara, a growing smirk on his lips.

Her grin widens as she leans in as well, the warm feel of the Doctor pulling her in and wrapping itself around Clara’s already weakening resolve. She was going to kiss him, in full view of everyone because god dammit, his dreamy eyes were doing unimaginable things to her. But just as her lips were about to catch the Doctor unawares, Clara’s phone shrieks in the dead silence between them.


Clara startles them both by slamming back against her chair, cheeks red and barely breathing. The Doctor glances at the caller id before she could silence the phone, and he stills for a moment, gauging Clara’s own expression.

‘You should pick that up’ he says, all matter-of fact, as he slips off the chair. ‘If you want. It was a nice little morning breakfast while it lasted’

She doesn't pick up. The Doctor's gaze has her transfixed and the last thing she wants is to end the day.

She does however text Danny back, that was nice enough of her, right?

Binge-studying today! text u when I'm done? x

Glancing up at the Doctor as she slips her phone into her bag, Clara smiles sheepishly at him. ‘I noticed a very extensive science fiction collection of books upstairs, mind taking me on a tour?’

The mischievous glint in his eyes was the only assent he gave Clara as the Doctor drags her up to his flat.

Chapter Text

Ofcourse Clara wasn't actually serious about getting a tour in the Doctor’s library, she didn't think the Doctor was serious either, especially that he gave her that intense look as he took her up to his flat. But apparently talking about space-time continuum’s representation in science fiction literature got the Doctor so turned on by the minute as he shuffled with Clara from bookshelf to bookshelf. What did she expect really? The man could go on about the possibility of time travel if no one shushed him up.

It was adorable, Clara told herself as she nodded and glanced at the open page the Doctor’s elegant finger was skimming through as he explained something.

‘You’re not actually listening, are you?’ One bushy eyebrow was drawn up imperiously.
‘Not really’ She had the good graces to redden and look ashamed, ‘If I wanted to know more about science fiction, I’d take the rest of your classes. But since I’m not a machoist, I wont do that’
The Doctor returns the book to its rightful spot and rolls his eyes at her. ‘I will not believe I’m that horrible’
‘Hitler incarnate, I tell you’ Now she is openly laughing, and stood there holding her sides while the Doctor stares at her with such warmth in his eyes that she suddenly sobers up. ‘Okay you’re not that bad. I could take on your dominant streak’

His smirk resurfaces and Clara feels her breathing hitch at the sight.

‘I bet you can’t, wee hobbit’ he dawdles, sidling up against her until Clara is pressed up against the bookcase, the hardwood and paperbacks poking against her back, with the Doctor’s warmth getting her light-headed.
‘I can’ She moves her hips just a little bit forward, pressing herself against the Doctor’s growing hardness.
His hands were everywhere, ghosting over her breasts, her torso, her hips. Oh god ‘No, you cant—‘
‘yes—‘ then her frustration gets the better of her, and she has her fingers tugging his silvery hair urgently, ‘Oh my god, just kiss me, you idiot’

He doesn't need anymore urging than that.

Their lips crash with such fervor that Clara moans into the Doctor’s mouth, prompting him to press himself harder against her, rubbing his hardness to the tight knot of nerves below Clara’s hips. Every time it still surprises her, how the Doctor’s mouth causes her to be so pliable to all his ministrations; nipping at her lips until she could feel the sensitive flesh pulsating with his desire.

‘God’ she moans as his mouth delves to the spot underneath her ear, dragging his wet lips all the way down to the base of her throat where she was raggedly breathing. ‘I..I..Just this time, please

The Doctor pulls back as he glances down at her red face, his eyes were dark with want and it made Clara’s insides quiver at the sight. ‘Last time?’
‘Last time’ she murmurs into his neck they kiss their way down the hallway to his room.



They lay side by side on his bed, kissing gently as their lips pressured against each other. It was one of the chastest kisses the Doctor had experienced with Clara, and somehow it felt much more intense than when he had his tongue on her clit the other day. Her soft lips ghost over his, and he has his palm splayed across her ample hip, pulling her closer to rut against her.

What is she doing to him?

He didn't actually think she’d want this again, and when he had invited her over for breakfast he had felt like a filthy old man who couldn't wait to get his hands on her. Yet, she wants him too; and that surprises him.

‘Doctor’ her breath tingles his neck as she moves to nip at it. ‘I—‘
‘I hope you’re not expecting an A after this’ he jokes, eyelids fluttering close as she descends down his body.

Clara bunches his shirt up until the skin just above his belt was under her mercy, she presses a kiss to his shivering stomach. ‘I dont think you’re capable of giving an A, even under gunpoint’

I am now, he thinks as her fingers nimbly unbuckle his belt. He’s a goner.

He lazily opens his eyes to find Clara's brilliant warm eyes staring down at him from dark eyes as she shrugs her shirt off and unclasps her bra, leaving her bare to his greedy eyes. He tries to touch her but she shoos his hand away as she returns to her ministrations, head dipping in motion with every lick and nip. Her hot mouth was sucking him so languidly, tongue tracing her kisses from the bottom all the way to the head, which she flicked with her tongue, causing the Doctor to throw his head back to moan her name, squeezing his eyes shut. At this rate, he would come right into her mouth, and he wasn't sure it was okay to do that. Yet? oh you idiot.

Clara stops all of a sudden, 'No, Doctor' she ran a finger up his engorged manhood, twitching for release. Why was she torturing him? 'You have to look at me'

The Doctor wills himself to open his eyes, and tries to keep it glued on her smirking face. He remembers how last time she had wanted to return the favor, and he had felt so ashamed of his need of her, but looking at her; so capable and sure, he couldn't help but hand the reigns to her. Clara reaches up to kiss to his lips quickly as a way to reassure him then dips her head back down to his upright cock. 'Good boy'

Yes, she was definitely trying to give him a heart attack.

Before he came by mere seconds, he manages to pull out of her mouth and spill his seed all over her breasts instead. He took his time licking each breast clean as Clara writhed beneath him, fingers running through his hair tenderly

Just this once. Just this once. Just this once.

He’ll do whatever she wants, until she changes her mind about him.


Clara gets back home and takes a much needed and very long shower, while Amy sits on the toilette lid and chats her up. Clara wondered if Amy could smell the Doctor’s spunk on her, but if she did, the redhead didn't say anything.

‘Rory’s not in the best state lately, so dont get offended if he loses his shite if you take his tea mug’ Amy talks loudly over the rushing water.

Clara pushes aside the curtain to stare at her friend, ‘Its that bad?’
Amy shrugs in surrender, ‘Jon called me yesterday’
‘So?’ she asks as she lathers up her body, god she loved how the Doctor’s tongue felt on her.
‘Earth to Clara’ a finger appears suddenly from behind the curtain and pokes her. ‘I said the idiot called me at 3 am, completely knackered, asking me to meet downstairs because he has a tiara for princess Amelia’
‘Oh god’ Was he sane in the head? ‘If I were Rory, I’d go show him the princess’ dungeon’
‘Aren’t you a ray of hopeful sunshine?’ Amy says sarcastically, ‘I just cant take Rory’s anger anymore, doesn't he trust me?’
Clara reaches for her towel and wraps it around herself, climbing out of the shower. ‘I think its more about male territorial instincts kicking in, and he’s just showing Jon without an H that Princess Amelia already has a strange looking knight’

‘You’re enjoying this too much’ Amy rolls her eyes at her friend and walks out the bathroom. ‘By the way’ she pokes her head inside again, ‘Danny called at home to check up on how your studying binge was going, and I told him you were camping out in your room under lockdown’

Clara stands there shivering from the accusatory stare Amy was throwing her way. ‘Figure out what you want to do with the guy, will ya? And please dont think I’m stupid enough to not realize that something fishy is going on’

And with that, the red-headed Amy shuts the door almost too forcefully than Clara liked. She moves to seat herself on the toilette lid, shaking with guilt and disgust; this wasn't her. Clara Oswald never sneaked around like this, she was the in-your-face kind of girl; this cant be who she is now.

But she remembers the Doctor’s tender caresses after her little stunt, his eyes warm and adoring?, and she feels her conflict intensifying. She cant hurt Danny anymore, she had her one more time with the Doctor and that was it. She wouldn't jeopardize his university position anymore, and she wont keep this going too far until Danny finds out and gets hurt. Clara Oswald will do it right.

But the thing is, does she want to?

Chapter Text

Her finals were done, papers submitted, and classes done. All the exhaustion she had been carrying around had finally dissipated when the semester was over; Clara Oswald was a free woman now. She was a free woman yes, but she wasn't in the best of moods. Even if the beautiful christmas decorations were up around her flat and the snow was increasing by the minute, but Clara couldn't shake off the gloom that swept over her. She lay in her bed, completely hidden under the warm covers trying to ignore how blue eyes were the only thing that were consuming her time currently after winter break had started. She realizes that during crunch time she was too busy with writing essays, and studying until her eyes watered and temples palpitating with headaches, to focus on the ache she had caused herself with not coming into contact with the Doctor lately. She had barely uttered a word to him expect to hand in her paper and take his final exam. Clara hadn't even spared him a glance as she sat taking his exam, but she was all too aware of his presence as he lingered too long beside her desk; willing her to drop her pen and look at him. But she couldn’t, she justcouldn't. Now she had nothing to do but go out for coffee runs with Amy and Rory, and text Danny from under the bedcovers, and at night, she’d glare at the Doctor’s incoming texts asking her if everything’s alright.

Clara hadn't replied to anything; unsure of what she’ll do if she sees him again, and not wanting to hurt Danny anymore. She was a mess of conflicted emotions and it was draining her usual cheekiness. Danny was sitting at the foot of her bed now, Amy had let him in after a terrible row with Clara that left the two best friends in a silent, simmering anger where they wouldn't speak to each other. So Amy had asked for backup, and here Danny was, in her room for the first time, and in her bed. First time for everything, right?, she thought as she glimpsed at Danny from under her covers; his tense and embarrassed expression was endearing but it just felt all wrong to her, and she couldn't say a thing.

‘How do you feel about skating?’ He asks, fidgeting uncomfortably over the bed unsure how to sit in the mess of the place. She groaned inwardly, ‘That means I have to get out of this bed, right?’ ‘Unfortunately’ he grins sweetly at her, ‘It’ll be good for you, you need to unwind from that horrible semester’ Getting up on one elbow, she quirks one side of her lips up at Danny. ‘It doesn't sound like such a bad idea actually’ ‘You can even invite Amy and Rory, and that Rose girl from class’ he suggests eagerly, moving closer to Clara.

Glancing up at him, Clara realizes that Danny was too sweet for her, too nice, and too much for her to deserve him. But if she could find a way to end things on good terms, maybe that could minimize the damage she would inflict on him. ‘I’ll get dressed, and call Rose and John. You tell Amy, I’m not sure she wants to speak to me now’

She slides out of bed and moves around the room picking up clothes to figure out an outfit, when suddenly she feels a hand latch onto her shoulder pulling her up until she was pressed flush against Danny. The quick movement fazes her for a second and she doesn't have a chance to take a step back before Danny has his fingers delicately placed under chin, tipping her head back as he presses his lips gently against her own shaky ones. The kiss is sweet and short and so Danny, yet it frustrates her to no end; there is no overwhelming heat surrounding her; no urgency, no frustrated aching, and no soft curls to run her fingers through. When Danny pulls away with a gentle expression on his face, dragging his lips lazily away, Clara wants the ground to swallow her up. Can he notice her frustration with the kiss? Can he smell the Doctor on her?

‘Clara…I..’ He runs his hands up and down her forearm self-consciously, ‘l—‘ ‘—I dont know how you put up with me’ she adds hastily, distracting them both. She just cant let him say it. She cant. ‘I’m such a wreck and yet you’re here and you want to skate. Danny, you are one impossible man’ If he notices her deliberate distraction, he’s too nice for this universe to say anything, and simply presses his lips to her forehead. ‘I’m here for you whenever, Clara’ She truly wishes she could say the same.


Clara wasn't much of a skater, but she could wobble around like the rest of her friends gleefully and not feel left out. Danny was always at her elbow, guiding her around the ice rink with a delicate hand at the small of her back, and another around her wrist.

‘Danny Pink’ Clara giggles as he twirls her around, ‘Are you a professional skater incognito?’ He laughs shyly at her, ‘I used to spend most of my time in ice rinks as a way of getting away from the orphanage’ Her smile falters at the mention of Danny’s orphanage; it broke her heart sometimes knowing that Danny didn't have the usual family setting in his childhood. But with all the heartache about stories of his times in the orphanage entailed, he still had that carefree and smiley expression on his face that almost made Clara believe that nothing can rain on Danny Pink’s parade.

Except the fact that you’re cheating on him, some voice inside her reminds her.

Well, she just realizes that anything can rain on Clara Oswald’s parade.

‘You’re great at it, Danny boy’ she murmurs quickly as she presses a kiss to his lips, channeling all her guilt into the heated way she grabbed onto his forearm, trying to convince herself to love him back as she presses herself against him, but it wasn't enough and Danny was melting into her, caressing her cheek affectionately. All she wanted was to cry.

‘Clara..Clara’ he gently pushes her away, ‘People are staring’ She blinks back the tears in her eyes, hoping he hadn't seen anything. She glances around her to find Rose and John glancing sideways at her, especially John who gives her an all too knowing look. Clara feigns a shy grin and slides a few steps away from Danny, ‘I think I’ll take a break for a while then’

His eyes glittered under the fluorescent light of the ice rink as he watches her skate away, ‘Want me to join?’ ‘Nah’ she shouts back, ‘Break a leg, yeah?’

She throws herself on a hidden bench and tries to stop her shaking hands. She tried. She tried. She tried. But nothing is working, all she’s doing is ruining things, and eventually hurting Danny more now than before. and the Doctor? God, she didn't want to think about him now.

‘You’re a mess’

She glances up to see John falling into the seat next to her, hair askew and sticking out in every possible direction but his face was serious and sympathetic. Clara glances sideways at the rink to see that Rose was monkeying around with Danny, so it was safe to say they were both unaware of John trying to placate her.

‘That obvious then?’ She weakly laughs and it sounds so pathetic to her ears that she hides her face into her palms. ‘I know when someone’s hurting’ he says, smiling at her. ‘I’m a fellow veteran’



They both sigh heavily and stare at fixed point to avoid each other’s gazes. John speaks first, ‘He’s a mess too, if you’re wondering’ She doesn't have to ask twice who he’s talking about. ‘I wish I could do something but…but you know its…umm…its complicated’ ‘I know I know’ he says placatingly, running his fingers through his already messy hair. ‘And he understands, or atleast he says he does. But he doesn't blame you, you should know that because it’ll make things easier for you’ ‘It’s like there’s a barrier keeping us apart and no matter what I do I just cant get past it and get to him’ And its killing me. John glances out at the ice rink, eyes landing on Rose in such an adoring gaze that Clara’s face burns as she glances away. ‘Rose and I had a tough time as well. It wasn't easy finding a way to be together’

Tentatively, Clara moves closer to encourage him to go on, hand resting on his own. ‘Things happened and she had to go away for a while. I was a mess, I even topped you.’ He smiles jokingly at her, ‘I did things I wasn't proud of to forget her, everything but I just couldn't let her go so I dropped everything and went to her. Nothing else had mattered to me more than her’

Clara feels swept up in the turbulent emotions in John’s voice. ‘You really love her’ He shakes his head at her, eyes glued on Rose’s laughing face. ‘No, I adore her’

Something runs through Clara’s body at the intensity of his feelings for Rose. She looks at Danny and waits for any powerful emotion to fill her up and all she ends up with is an emptiness that makes her want to curl up and weep. She glances up at John as he pats her back sympathetically.

‘See if things are worth dropping for him, Clara’ he says as he stalks back to his Rose. Clara clutches her phone too forcefully, steeling herself against calling the Doctor in mopey tears.

Chapter Text

The Doctor tries not to think of her too much. She’s a grown woman with a mind of her own, he shouldn't hold her accountable to ignoring him; besides, he was a much older man, maybe she was simply interested in trying something new. He couldn't blame her for that either. But there was always that creeping thought in his head reminding him of how much her skin burned against him when he held her, could she have wanted him as much as he did? or was he simply an experiment of her young twenties?

John and Jon were incredibly worried about him, knocking on his flat door whenever they were on TARDIS duty, to bring him coffee and bananas until he was starting to wonder if getting a bloody ape would help get rid of his excess bananas supply. He was miserable, he couldn't hide it from his friends and he couldn't hide it from himself either. The Doctor missed Clara. He missed bantering back and forth with her. He missed her dimpled smile when he went on a rant about a book he just read. He missed how she pulled on her ponytail when she was in deep thought; eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Clara Oswald consumed his thoughts in every waking moment, and sleeping wasn't any better. He’d dream about her smiling at him, in his arms, and with just them in the dreams.

The Doctor would wake up more miserable and aching than ever.

While he was marking her final exam, he was tempted to give her a grade that would cause her to rush to his door with a red-faced rage that would put him at her feet, but he was better than that; he still had a shred of decency and dignity in him to not do that. He gave her an A- in the end; exactly what she deserved with her efforts and work presented. There was a silly hopefulness in him that she would email or text him jokingly about the grade but all he got was silence on her part. It didn't break him. He went out walking once and saw her standing on the other side of sidewalk, waiting for the red light as she huddled into Danny Pink’s enormous jacket against the frigid cold, the Doctor turned around and walked right back to his apartment. It still didn't break him.

He sat on the ledge of his window, legs dangled outside as he let the wind rush and cut at his face, forehead leaning against the brick wall when his phone vibrated.


His whole body stills imperceptibly and he hates how much she has him under her control, especially when he has so little influence over her to the extent that she could so easily ignore his texts. He was a pathetic git, and he knew it.

He presses answer nevertheless and steels himself against what her voice would do to him.

‘Doctor?’ God, her voice sounds uncertain and hesitant. He shuts his eyes to channel all his senses to simply focus on how her voice wrapped itself around him.

When he didn't say anything Clara coughed out something unintelligible that went along the lines of ‘How’s it going?’

‘Fine’ he replies flippantly, he isn't sure how he’s feeling at this moment except maybe this frustrating senselessness about the whole situation. ‘I’m fine, you?’

Clara heaves out breathlessly into his ear, ‘Alright’

They were tiptoeing around each other and they both knew it, but what else could they say?

‘I know the end of the semester always takes its toll on us, but theres really no need to off your life by jumping now’ her words punched him out of his reverie as he pulls the phone away from his ear and frowns at it.

Bringing it back to his ear, he croaks out, ’What?’
She tries for a weak laugh that shreds him on the inside, ‘Look down. Dont jump down, though, just look’
And the Doctor does, and finds wee Clara Oswald standing on the other side of the street, leaning against a lamp-post as she stared up at him. He tries to mask his surprise but it doesn't even matter anymore.
‘This is a surprise’ he forcibly says casually, ‘what brings you here?’
He watches her as she nervously jumps from leg to leg, but he couldn't exactly make up the expression on her face. If only he could understand it even if he saw it. ‘Oh you know, just walking around and here I am!’ she giggles but it falls on deaf ears, ‘Okay, I’m here to see you’

He climbs down from his window and heads inside, hair tugging on his curls as he steels himself to turn down whatever she was about to offer. Because knowing how weak she made him, he couldn't possibly look at her and say no.

‘I dont know, Clara—‘
‘—Wait wait, just hear me out. I want to talk, I’m not asking for anything, nor will I push you to do something. You can even come down here for a talk, just a small chat, you know?’ She was babbling, and he knew her well enough by now to know that a babbling Clara is a nervous and wrecked Clara. And he couldn't stand that.

The Doctor lets out one long endless sigh and closes his eyes against his own stupidity. ‘Come on up, Clara’
‘Really?’ the crack in her voice almost unmade him.
‘Really’ he said, as warmly as possible.


She really didn't know what she was doing but here she was, on his couch, waiting patiently as he made them a cup of tea. He had opened the door for her with a guarded expression, but that didn't stop him from helping her out of her coat, letting his fingers linger across her shoulder in an affectionate manner. The Doctor was being too nice that it made Clara’s guilt overwhelm her and her eyes started stinging with tears as he led her to the couch.

Watching him as he stalks back into the room with the tea, Clara wishes she was a better person. ‘You didn't have to’

He shrugs, choosing to sit on the chair. Far away from you as possible, something whispers in her ear. ‘You look like you need it’

As she works up courage to find the words to let out, the Doctor leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees as he gazes intently at her. ‘You—you’ve been..Have you been crying, Clara?’ The observation brings more tears to her already blinking eyes, lips shivering as well. ‘Oh no, not the eyes, anything but that. Please dont cry’

‘I—I hurt you’ she hiccups pathetically, ‘and i hate myself for it, and staying away from you..’ she trails off, staring anywhere but at his increasing frowning expression, ‘Its making me more miserable than I thought possible’

She feels him get off the chair but cant look up at him, he moves away from her to stand by the window. ‘Clara..’

‘I thought I could work it out with Danny and ignore how I feel about you’ she starts again through the tears and the hiccups, ‘But its not working, all I can think of is you, nothing else. I keep wondering what can I do to fix things but there’s your job and your reputation, and then there’s hurting Danny too’

She feels hands clutching her own all of a sudden. She looks up at the Doctor’s soft expression as he kneels before her, fingers rubbing circle gently into her shaky ones. ‘Stop thinking, stop everything. Just breathe’

Clara takes a shaky breath as the Doctor nods encouragingly at her. ‘That’s good, Clara, one more’

She listens to him as he murmurs delicately into her ear; trying to relax her, brushing the tears away from her cheeks, and pulling the plastered wet tendrils of her hair back behind her ear. The Doctor’s concerned blue eyes stared back at her until she calms down and leans her head against his shoulder, wanting to disappear into him. His hands run up and down her back until she feels a fresh set of tears seize her again and she pulls her self away to glare at him. Well she tries to pathetically glare.

‘Why are you sitting there helping me?’ she throws miserably the question at him, ‘after all i’ve done!’
His gentle expression hardens in determination as he straightens to stare down at her, hands shoved aggressively in his pocket. ‘Do you think I care so little for you, Clara, that a few ignored texts would make me act like an asshole?’

His intense gaze causes Clara to shift back into the couch as she drags her own gaze away from his before her face burns redder than this. ‘I—I dont know what to say’ She blinks up at him, trying to gauge what his words meant. Does he understand the extent of her feelings for him? Is it simply an affectionate care from his side? Is she his fucking hamster?

‘I’m not upset with you’ she watches him try to reassure her, as he takes seat next to her. ‘I understand and I dont blame you. you have, you’ll get over them, you’re a young woman and you’re probably confused right now’

She stares at him incredusouly, ‘Wait wait, this isn't a phase I’m going through, Doctor, I’m not just trying you out’ She doesn't know where she finds the courage, but she clutches his hand, causing him to shift his gaze to where their fingers interlocked. ‘I L—i like you, Doctor, i have genuine feelings for you, and if..if theres anything that I could do about it I would, if you have the same feelings, that is, but I’m not pushing you because I know how this puts your reputation on the line’

He opens his mouth to interrupt but she shushes him with a look, earning her a scowl from the owl as lets her finish. ‘I’m done with Danny, I broke up with him tonight. It was horrible but I did it. I did you’ Her voice falters now, shyness getting the better of her. She was hanging in the balance now; she had dropped everything like John had said, but was she sure of the Doctor’s feelings for her in the first place?

‘You broke up with Pink?’ he asks again, as if he doesn't believe her, eyes swimming with turbulent emotion.
‘Well I dont have to spell it out again, now do i?’ she begins irritably, ‘I just told you—‘
But she doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence because the Doctor captures her lips in a heated kiss that channels all the words he couldn't and wouldn't say. And Clara finds herself leaning into the kiss, hand splayed across his chest as her fingers playfully brush against him, she deepens the kiss until the Doctor groans against her. The hand he has on her waist clenches as he pulls her closer, his mouth dragging down to the spot beneath her ear. That respite allows her to get some air into her lungs as she enjoys the feel of the Doctor’s body pressed up against her again. ‘I miss you’ she murmurs hoarsely.

She doesn't know what she does to earn herself the adoring smile the Doctor gives her, but she doesn't complain as his fingers caress her cheek. ‘I miss you’ he repeats back, as he pulls her into his arms, leaning back against the sofa. It must’ve been the whirlpool of emotions that overtook her tonight or the headache from crying, or simply the fact that she was exactly where she wanted to be after endless weeks of suffering and aching, Clara falls into a fitful sleep with the sound of the Doctor’s aggressively beating heart thrumming against her ear. He instinctively clutches her harder and after a few moments joins her in the dreamworld.

Chapter Text

'I think I'm the better cook'

Here she was, sitting on the Doctor’s kitchen counter the next morning, attempting to challenge him to a cook off. The Doctor had on a pair of sweat pants with a loose t-shirt, leaving his beautiful throat in full view and his hair attractively mussed, Clara didn't mind a meal with entertainment.

'This time I'll cook' she would not relent, but then she realizes the meaning of her words. This time. That meant that there will be other times, did she want other times? Bloody yes. But did the Doctor want this too?

She sneaks a glance at him as he was rummaging through the fridge, but he had stopped what he was doing and straightened. His blue eyes seemed to shine in daylight, the steely grey flecks flickering. He took two strides and had himself positioned between her legs, a hand on each thigh. His eyes searched her face for any hesitation, but Clara didn't let him see any because there was no hesitation in her, and she wanted him to know that.

'I want this to go on' she stated, running her fingers across his stubble. ‘I know there’s the issue about uni but you know I dont really care at this point----'
The Doctor chuckles, rubbing his face against her neck, 'I want this too, Clara. But how are we going to go about with it?'
'Well you're going to have to ask me on a date of course' she mused, 'I don't hook up until the third date, and that is IF I like you'

He shakes his head. 'That’s not what I meant, you bloody idiot' he shut his eyes in concentration, resting his forehead against her own. Clara felt her heart beating restlessly against her chest at how intimate this felt. 'I want you to be comfortable at being seen with me; your professor, a man your senior'

‘Ex-professor now, and I don't want to hear anything about age differences please' she corrected, but she continued. 'I want us to be together. I really do'

She feels surprised at the hungry kiss the Doctor gives her; sucking the air right out of her lungs, his lips sending her to the edge.

'I'm still cooking' she manages to breathe against his mouth. He breathes out a shaky laugh as he pulls away to let her slide off the counter, Clara’s heart almost burst at how endearing his expression looked.

They ended up on his couch with plates in their hands, munching quietly on her fried eggs and toast. The Doctor sitting normally with Clara's feet tucked into his lap, ‘Damn, this is world class fried eggs if you ask me’

Clara dips her fingers into her now-cold coffee mug and splashes the Doctor’s grey t-shirt, staining it yellow. ‘Thats for the damn A-, you git!’

The Doctor removes both their plates away to the table, and has such a bright smile on his face as he presses Clara to his chest, as she snuggled into the warmth of him more. She could definitely get used to this affectionate side of the Doctor. ‘Clara’ he murmurs into her hair, ‘you cant imagine how much I wanted to hear that’

She understands what he means to say, but she wants them to move forward and forget those horrible few weeks. ‘Thats because a Hitler like you gets off other’s admission of misery’

His laugh makes her heart squirm.


After an intense make-out session on the couch, the Doctor relents and stops as he notices Clara’s bruised and red lips getting redder and redder, even if it was extremely attractive to see her like that. But she had errands to run, and people to see; no need to walk around with teenager-make-out signs all over her, as she so funnily put it.

The Doctor lays sprawled on the couch with his hands cushioning the back of his head as he watches Clara run her fingers through her tangled curls. She suddenly stops and blinks back at the mirror in such a comic expression that the Doctor grins at her.

‘Aye I know, I had to look at that face too first thing in the morning’ he shakes his head in mock seriousness, ‘Hobbits are such funny looking creatures’

She reaches for her sneaker and throws it at his stomach.
‘My phone died last night’ she says as she glances around the living room, searching for it.

‘Bathroom sink’ Doctor says idly as he grabs a near by paperback to hide his smirk behind as Clara rolls her eyes at him, rushing to the bathroom. ‘Charger’s by my nightstand’

She disappears inside for a few moments, leaving the Doctor to stretch out any kinks in his body from sleeping all night on a cramped couch. Not the best place to sleep for someone his age, and with his back problems; but still definitely worth it with Clara so warm and right in his arms. He wanted her to always stay there, and now he has the chance.

A date? he hasn't been on one since ages, not since…River. God, he groans, rubbing his eyes to shut out the memories. But was Clara serious about going public with this?

Reputation be damned, he was never one to care about what people thought or said about him. But he was concerned about the backlash Clara could receive from friends, family, or even faculty. He remembers the angry ginger girl’s glare and shudders.

‘Shit’ he hears her loud and clear. ‘shit shit shit’

He quickly pushes his thin frame off the couch and marches to his bedroom to find her on the ground, back against the mattress as one hand twists her hair into a nervous knot. He watches her eyes get wider and wider as she scrolls through her phone.

‘Is everything alright?’ he asks as he slides to the floor next to her.
She glances up at him with horror. ‘Amy called 15 times and left me a hundred messages’ she even shows him the texts; she wasn't kidding when she said it was a hundred.

‘That is scary’

‘oh god, I’m dead’ she gets up and slips, falling face first on the carpeted floor. ‘I should’ve called and said where I disappeared’

As the Doctor helps her up, Clara slips on her shoes, struggling to keep the phone balanced on her shoulder as she phones Amy. ‘She’s not picking up! THATS EVEN WORSE’

He cant help but giggle at her disgruntled state, but honestly, he’d feel just as scared if he ever crossed Amelia Pond. Clara is at the door now, dialing Amy’s number one more time as the Doctor blocks her way out as he pins her to the door.

‘If my distress is turning you on, then my Hitler theory is simply validating itself at this point’ she says distractedly.

The Doctor kisses her until the phone drops from her ear and she’s much more calm to focus on what he was about to say. ‘Will you go out with me?’

She radiates warmth in the smile she gives him, circling her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. ‘Yes’

‘I’ll pick up your dead corpse from your flat for a date then’ Clara bites his lips harshly as punishment but then presses her lips against him softly.

‘Hitler, I swear’ she murmurs one last time as he lets her slip out the door to face her imminent death.

Chapter Text

Clara thinks of sneaking into the kitchen first to slip a knife into her bag, but as she’s closing her apartment door tendrils of red hair cloud her vision as Amy leans against the hallway wall and stares Clara down.

‘I can explain’ Clara starts but Amy cuts her off with one finger.
‘That piece of metallic shit you call a phone is there so your friends, i.e myself, can check up on you. So whatever it is that happened, save it’ and with that the red haired girl pushes herself off the wall and marches to her room.

Well that went well, she thinks. Clara huffs out a terrified breath and follows Amy into the bedroom. ‘Listen Amy-‘
‘-dont want to hear it!’
‘Okay okay’ Clara raises her hands up in defense. ‘Well where’s Rory?’

Amy stills as she picks up the dirty laundry from her room, glancing up at Clara. ‘He has a shift at work, but he’ll be back later if you want him’
‘Nah, just asking if all is good with you two’

When Amy doesn’t say anything more, Clara decides not to push her luck and quietly exits to her own bedroom.

She feels too exhausted to analyze Amy’s words and attitude too much; a coffee date tomorrow would fix it all up between them. Date! Her heart starts beating incessantly against her ribcage that she has to lie down on her bed to dim her excited state. She has a date with the Doctor. Tonight. Alone. Officially. Clara doesn't have to worry about cheating on Danny anymore because she had heartlessly ended things with him yesterday night. Not one of her finest moments but then it was Danny that made it all alright.

He was too good for someone like me anyways, she tries to reassure herself that he’ll be happy with someone else; someone who wasn't as hesitant about her feelings towards him, someone who didn't sneak around to meet the man she truly wanted instead.

Pushing her fiery face into the pillow in agitation, Clara remembers the crest-fallen expression on Danny’s face as they stood by her bike infront of the ice rink yesterday. He didn't look too shocked, but then the frustrated kiss on the ice rink gave her away and he seemed to have been preparing himself for a rejection soon enough.

‘I’m sorry, Danny’ She lay a hand on his forearm but he shrugs it off. ‘I didn't mean to hurt you, but its not working out’

His golden brown eyes glisten under the neon lights and he glances away from her. ‘At the beginning, I thought I could never have you and I was too incessant like I was pushing it. But the last few months it felt okay––no, it felt great, we..we were in love, Clara’

Oh damn, Oswald.

Clara remembers how she had stood there with tears blurring her vision as she helplessly tried to find words to lessen his pain. But she was just as hurt, she had some feelings for Danny, but it could never compare to what she had for the Doctor. She had wanted the Doctor too much that she numbed her need by losing herself with Danny, but instead she still kept finding herself right where she wanted; by the Doctor.

‘I wasn’t’ she says in a small voice and waits for incredulous anger to erupt from Danny, but he simply drops his head in defeat and heaves out a shaky breath.

‘I dont need to ask it, right?’

She blinks up at him several times until what he says registers in her head. Is there someone else? She couldn't do that to him anymore. She couldn't say who it was, not when she hadn't spoken to the Doctor yet, so instead she had opted for a desolate, ‘Please dont’

And he didn’t. Danny Pink ran a trembling hand across her wet cheek and disappeared down the street. Clara hurriedly ended up under the Doctor’s balcony willing herself to be composed.

It went more than fine She reminds herself again and again as she settled deeper into bed.

She hears Amy aggressively shoving things around the small apartment and hopes its because she has a lot of packing to do for visiting Rory’s family over the holidays, and not because she was still pissed at Clara.

Clara decides to catch up on some sleep until her date night; a deserved rest after a wild week of aching and crying. She’s lulled to sleep with the scent of the Doctor burned into memory.


The Doctor picks up Clara far far away from her apartment’s window. She still isn't ready to broach the subject with Amy, and so she scampers down the street in her high-heeled boots, short leather skirt, and a baggy grey knit sweater. The Doctor greets her with an appreciative once-over, which she returns with the biggest grin in the history of grins.

‘Did you miss me?’ she winks up at him as she settles in his car. He keeps his eyes on the road and huffs out indignantly.

‘I am not a hormonal prepubescent’

She murmurs to herself, ‘I wouldn't completely disregard that’

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing!’ she laughs inwardly to herself. ‘So where are you whisking me off to?’

‘Its a surprise’ He turns his gaze from the road to look at her, steel-blue eyes shining with unbridled excitement; it made Clara’s heart beat frantically in curiosity. She leans forward and presses a hurried peck to his cheek and smiles up at him from her corner of the car.

She could get used to surprises. And him.


‘NO! OH MY GOD NO!’ Clara had the Doctor’s arm in deadlock as she excitedly jumped up and down as they stood on the street. ‘ITS A PLANETARIUM!’

He grinned down at her giddy state and bowed down jokingly. ‘So you never say I do not surprise’

She was holding her face now, afraid that all this grinning and happiness would split her face open. ‘I cant believe our first date is at a planetarium. Didn't know you were so high up that you’d have connections to get us inside when its off duty’

Frowning, the Doctor stares at her as if she’s daft. ‘Connections? I didn't say anything about pulling strings’

‘Umm’ Clara raised a suspicious eyebrow, ‘well how do we get in?’

‘We break in ofcourse!’

She glances at up at him then at the gated fence, and then at the impenetrable dome shaped building. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’

The Doctor takes the picnic basket from her hands and marches off to head to the back of the building. ‘Use your small hobbit head and meet me inside!’

‘What? Doctor!’ She calls back, but he’s already disappeared. ‘You cant leave me here!’

Ofcourse he leaves her here.

‘Cmon, Oswald’ she talks to herself, ‘think think think’

I could just leave him here. But she knew herself, she’d never pass up this opportunity.

Oswald for the win.

She walks to the side of the building until she sees an ivy web along the stone walled fence, and proceeds to uncomfortably and inefficiently climb it. The leather skirt was completely unhelpful but finally she reaches the top of the wall and feels victorious. Until she looks down.

There was no ivy to latch onto and climb downwards; just a large expanse of greenery and a stone pathway that leads up to the planetarium’s entrance. Clara sees a green bush and wonders if she jumps will she land on a soft cloud.

She lands flat-arsed on the sad-looking bush. ‘I’m going to kill him’ she mutters as she achingly caresses her possibly shattered bones.

Hoping that the front entrance is conveniently open and not locked, Clara tries to push all her bodily strength against the door but it doesn't work. She wonders if the Doctor was already inside; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of beating her to the magnificent room. She gives up on the door and starts to circle the building until she stumbles upon a stairway leading up to the dome-shaped roof; she takes the stairs.

When she finally manages to reach the top in her uncomfortably leathery condition, she finds the building’s emergency stairs waiting for her. Clara doesn't try to use her shoulders to open the door of the emergency stairs but quietly takes off her heels and aggressively kicks with all her might against the door. In her defense, the screws were already terribly rusted that it was too easy for it to open.

When she makes it to the dim-lit entrance hall, Clara presses herself against the wall and glances around the corner to check for any security guards. ‘Where are you, Doctor?’

No flashlights, no snoring, no smells of bitter coffee. It was free to say that the building was security free. Or they had already caught the Doctor and were too busy with him to look for his other accomplice.

Clara stuffs her heels into her bag and tiptoes to the grand theatre room. Thankfully, the door wasn't locked this time, but easily clicks against her nudge. The room was freezing cold. She blinks twice against the darkness to register her surroundings and slowly sees the familiar looking theatre seats placed in a circular shape around the projection contraption placed in the middle of the room. Slowly, she brings her eyes upwards and can outline the shape of the dome.

For professional purposes she dances around in celebration of her valiant efforts, for making it here before the Doctor did, and for actually being here. ‘Yes, Oswald, yes!’

Suddenly, she hears sounds of tinkering around the projector. ‘No, Oswald, No!’

‘oh cmon! how did you make it here so fast?’ She walks down to where the Doctor lay sprawled on the ground, meddling with the machinery.

‘Back entrance. They never keep it locked, they think if someone tries the front door first they wont bother with the back door. Extremely silly thinking if you ask me’

‘Well, I didn't ask you’ she mutters to herself indignantly.

‘Now now, Clara, I can still appreciate your tactics’ he rolls out from underneath to get up and press one long and heated kiss against her mouth. She was irritated but feels herself press up against him and meets his languid kiss with her own. Nipping and groaning against each other, they suddenly realize where they are and break away. The Doctor places his forehead against hers and chuckles, ‘how about you tell about how you got in whilst I make this thing work?’

‘You’ll make it work!!’

His smile makes her want to curl up in his arms. ‘Anything for you, Clara’

He goes back inside the contraption as Clara lays next to him, hands on cheeks and legs flailing in the air as she recounts her heroic attempts; expanding on a few moments for a bit of glory. The Doctor doesn't stop her, but laughs at the right queues and praises her.

At this point, she doesn't care if his ministrations work or not. Clara passes him food from the picnic basket by her side and they eat delightfully as he works. She likes the messiness of the both of them.


It was close to midnight and they lay sprawled by the projector staring at the glowing star map above them. Clara had never felt more alive than now.

The Doctor and Clara. In space.

She quite liked that, and he seemed to too. He had his arm around her waist protectively as she laid her head on his shoulder. His ragged breathing stirred a few escaped tendrils of her hair and she felt such intimacy at how natural they felt in each others arms.

‘Thank you for taking me here’
‘Thank you for the exact same thing’ She smiles ruefully at his difficulty to word emotions and feelings, but the way his arm tightened around her was all the reassurance she needed. She snuggled deeper into his embrace and listened to his heartbeat.

‘Do you ever think it’ll be possible for us normal people to go up there?’ she asks after a long silent minute.

‘Anything is possible, my impossible girl’