This is set after the squeaky bed incident in The IT Guy, which places us between chapters 20 and 21 for those following along.

The List

They'd met at a pub near the office after work that evening for drinks. They sat a small table against the wall and chatted for two and a half hours about everything and nothing. Clara was constantly amazed by how much the Doctor could talk for a man who was so secretive about his past. Whenever he did tell her stories about his family or his childhood, they were always less detailed than his other anecdotes, but he told her about the family dog and how his mum had constantly fussed over his shirt collars like he just couldn't resist telling her these little things about himself.

She realised she was fully, properly in love with him whenever he exhibited that sort of attentive, eager enthusiasm that begged her to know him better and accept him for it.

She felt buzzed after three glasses of wine. They left the pub clutching to each other for warmth as the chill March winds barrelled through the narrow streets of London.

"Come home with me," she said.

They were standing in front of the tube stop. Last week, after coming back from Nottingham, he'd spent the night with her as she recovered from a bout of food poisoning. It had been the second time they'd slept together, and unfortunately the last. The past week had been hectic, especially with her aunt coming to visit for three days. Nina had allowed Clara to stay in her room while her Aunt stayed in hers, and although she jokingly suggested to Clara that the Doctor could join them as well (while she was on the phone with him one night, which had reduced Clara to giggling incoherently), there hadn't been many opportunities for them to be together.

She slid her fingers along the lines of his lapel and glanced up at him through her eyelashes, grinning softly as she waited for his response.

He looked a bit nervous, bless him. "I haven't gotten any pyjamas."

"You won't need them."

A grin slowly crept onto his lips. She realised he was messing with her. "Or a toothbrush. Dental hygiene is very important."

She tugged impatiently on the front of his jacket. "You can borrow mine."

"Ew, isn't that a bit gross?"

She pulled his head towards hers and whispered warmly into his ear. "You let me put my tongue in your mouth; a toothbrush isn't much different."

He laughed softly and she kissed his neck. "Oh, I don't know. I might need some persuading."

"Oh, really?"

He shrugged and bobbed his head side to side in an aloof manner. Clara pursed her lips, grinning, and then pulled him down for a kiss that tasted like red wine. He lowered his hands to the curves at her waist and she ruffled her fingers through the back of his hair while curling her tongue against the inside of his upper lip. He moaned softly and she had to keep from laughing at how easy he was.

"Nah, you're right," she said when she pulled away. "We should just call it a night."

"Oh… I… right, OK. I suppose, yeah."

She giggled, smiling brightly at his dopeish look of disappointment. "I'm kidding."

"Oh, thank god."

Nina was on the sofa watching telly when they got home. She grinned knowingly at them both when they headed up the stairs. "Have a good night," she called.

He kissed her softly once they were alone in her bedroom. Clara looped her arms around his neck as he pushed her down onto the bed, his lips eagerly moving against hers as he slipped his hands under the hem of her blouse. She parted her legs and he shifted on top of her, resulting in an absurdly loud squeak of the bedsprings.

His hands and lips stilled against her. "No…"

Clara stifled a laugh. "My bed never squeaked until you showed up."

"Do you think it's trying to discourage us?"

"Dunno. Perhaps it's haunted by the ghost of my Great Aunt Gertie."

"You have a Great Aunt Gertie?"

"Well, I did, yeah."

"That is such a great aunt name. Gertie…"

She touched her fingers to his chin and redirected his attention to her face. "Focus, please."

A grin curled at one corner of his mouth as he drank her in. "Yes, ma'am."

She scooted back into the centre of the bed, pulling the Doctor with her. He chuckled at the awkward movements until she was settled against the pillows and her lips puckered against his. "There," she whispered. "That's better."

He nodded eagerly in agreement before allowing his hands to resume their path along her skin. She peeled his jacket away from his shoulders and they began the slow dance of undressing each other, pausing every now and then to kiss and caress each other's skin.

She noticed that he liked to tell her how beautiful she was when he moved inside of her. He would utter the words breathlessly into her hair as she gasped and clutched at his back, soft cries escaping her throat as his hips shifted into hers. He noticed that she was always eager to encourage him when he did something she liked. Whenever he nipped at a certain spot on her neck, she would cling to him and say, "Yes, yes," over and over in a strained voice.

Afterwards, he lifted his face from where it had been pressed into her pillow and smiled breathlessly at her. She pushed his hair away from his forehead and grinned at how messy he looked. He was so fussy about his hair that she relished any opportunity to muss it up.

His expression shifted into something unreadable when he touched her face, his thumb tracing the contours of her lips. She kissed the pad of his thumb and he smiled briefly before continuing to stare at her with that inscrutable look on his face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm sorry I left you that first night," he said. "I wish I hadn't. That's not how I wanted our first night together to end."

Her eyes lowered sadly and she nodded. "Nor me."

"I kept making all of these plans for how it would be, but none of them ever worked out. I was so scared of ruining it."

"But it was perfect," she insisted. "Until you left, of course."

He heaved a sigh and lowered his forehead against hers, his breath washing over her chin. Clara slid her palms along the smooth expanse of his back soothingly and offered him a soft smile. As grateful as she was for his apology, she felt it was even more important that he knew she forgave him.

He covered her lips with his and kissed her languidly, his fingers dipping into her hair as she poured her breath between his lips.

"You deserve something perfect."

"Oh, Doctor—nothing's perfect."

He breathed a tiny laugh and nodded. "I know. But it's what you deserve."

"Oh, don't start," she said, tapping his nose playfully. "Can't have you thinking I'm perfect. That's too much for a girl to live up to."

"I don't think you're perfect," he assured her. "I just feel like you deserve the best of everything. The best of me."

She blinked rapidly and then drew his head towards hers for another kiss, her heart fluttering in her chest. "My sweet Doctor…"

After a moment, he shifted onto the bed next to her and she curled up against his side, her head nestled against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. They lay there for a long time in the dark listening to the sounds of the traffic passing on the street below and the muffled noise of the TV downstairs.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"How many women have you been with?"

"Er…"

He tensed nervously and Clara laughed. "There's no wrong answer."

"I know, I just… hate this question."

She frowned. "Do you not want to tell me?"

"No, it's not that. I just feel awkward thinking about the other women I've slept with when you're in my arms."

She couldn't help but grin. "Oh. Good answer."

He chuckled and then sighed up at the ceiling. "You might think I'm a bit of a slag after this."

"Really?" she replied, oddly excited by this news. He always behaved so prudishly that she'd worried she and his ex-wife were the only women he'd been with.

Oh, how wrong she was. He started listing off names, some of them sounding normal enough like Sarah Jane and Tegan, but then there was Peri, Ace, Romana, and then the list started to include people she knew. Rose, River… "And now you."

"Goodness. I've joined quite the chorus line."

He flushed bright pink and turned away from her bashfully. Clara kissed his collarbone and giggled.

"What about you, then?" he asked. "Who else has managed to lure the beautiful Clara Oswald into bed?"

"I love it when you make me sound like an exotic fish."

"Don't deflect."

She sighed thoughtfully. "Well, there was Will, my first boyfriend when I was seventeen. Then Liam Tucker, my first boyfriend in university." She blushed at her little fib. She and Liam hadn't really dated so much as taken a class together and hooked up after a campus party.

"You sure like blokes named William."

"Oh, you're the first one to have noticed that," she said dryly. Nina had found the 'Will and Liam' thing funny for the past seven years. "Then there was Mike Lombardi, my second boyfriend at uni… and then you."

His eyebrows lifted high enough on his forehead that they were actually visible. "Are you telling me you haven't had sex since university?"

It was her turn to blush. "Shut up."

"But you graduated…" His lips moved silently as he counted. "Six years ago, Clara."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"That's… a long time."

"Yes."

He rolled onto his side and started kissing her. Clara giggled. "What are you doing?"

"I've got a lot of work to do if we're going to make up for those six years of celibacy."

She giggled but didn't fight him off when he ran his hands up and down her back, palms dipping into the curve of her waist before firmly gripping her arse. "So you're taking on the responsibility of making up for it?" she teased breathlessly.

His lips moved to her collarbone and then lower. "Yes."

Clara rolled onto her back as his lips moved even lower. She breathed heavily up at the ceiling and then closed her eyes. "Okay."