A/N: Yeah, so I meant to finish this yesterday... on actual Valentines day. Oh well, close enough. Hope you enjoy.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to ask her.

I'm going to do it...

I can't do it.

Yes I can. I'm going to do it.

The Doctor had a mental playlist spinning on constant repeat; because he needed the reminder. He needed the motivation. He needed the nerve... perhaps that more than anything.

He had the whole day planned out - Well, he'd had the same day planned for nearly a year now - but today he was finally going to do it. He was finally going to ask her. Nothing would stand in his way.

Today is going to be perfect.

From the moment he rolled out of bed he'd been planning. Pondering. Organizing their day down the the barest detail; every split second. Today was a special day for many reasons... possibly too many. Should he put it off? No. But maybe he should wait? No. Three special occasions crammed into one day. Wasn't that a bit...

No.

He wasn't backing down. Not this time. He'd carried the ring around buried deep in his jacket pocket for weeks, each day waking with the mindset that It was today. But he could never follow through. So what would change this time around?

Was it because it was Valentines Day? No. Was it because it was their first anniversary since the day they'd started dating? Maybe. But most of all, was it because the Doctor was now realizing how desperately he was in love with Clara Oswald?

Definitely.

"Okay. Okay."

He was losing his mind.

"No, wait, that's not it. First we go to..."

He couldn't take it.

"No. First the film. Then we... wait, no."

He was bloody hopeless.

"Get yourself together!" Two clenched fists pressed firmly against his forehead the Doctor paced. He'd experienced much difficulty keeping still in the past; even remaining in the same room for too long made him antsy. But this was ridiculous.

If he tried to sit, his legs would just bounce with anxiety until he was forced to stand. If he tried to stay still, his hands would twitch, reminding him of his urgent need to just move. He became short of breath with the stress of the day and the anxiety of what was to come. Could he do this? Could he really pull this off?

He had to. Nothing was going to get in his way... right?

"Right." His palms dragged down the length of his face, fingertips catching his lower eyelids and dragging them down agonizingly to their fullest extent. With an insurpressible groan he struck the edge of the console with one booted toe and let out a low growl of discomfort in the aftermath.

Focus. He told himself, breathing steadying. Focus.

Okay. He was good.

He could do this.

The self-aimed mutters went on for several stressful minutes before he heard a high pitched voice drifting from the corridor that sent a delighted shiver to the base of his spine.

"Talkin' to yourself again, are you?" Clara flashed him an impossible smile as she emerged from the shadowed hallway and crossed the console room floor, her arms folded over her dressing gown-clad chest.

"Ah, good morning." The Doctor did his best to keep a smooth and steady voice and clasped his hands behind his back in case they were trembling. He felt too numbed to tell. "Sleep well?"

"Mhm I did." Still groggy and yet to coax herself into full wakefulness Clara pressed a palm to her mouth and yawned, eyes closed tight and facial features stretching until the bout died down. A few more steps and she was close enough to touch, automatically sliding both hands beneath his jacket to trail along his sides until she could hook them against his back. Sometimes, she still expected him to tense, flinch, or pull away. But for the last year, the fear of overstepping his personal boundaries had faded completely. Because he had none. Instead, the Doctor always responded with a friendly laugh and two arms wrapped around her shoulder, sometimes even going as far as rocking her from side to side out of amusing affection. "Happy Valentines Day."

"Oh, is it Valentines day already?" He ran one hand through his hair with a nervous chuckle. "How about that..."

With that, she pulled back just enough to tilt her head and catch his eye. "Don't tell me you forgot about..."

"It's our anniversary. That I could never forget."

Her brief moment of unsureness immediately faded and she pressed her forehead against his chest.

"I've got the whole day planned out, actually." He stated casually, trying to keep his grin from seeming forced.

"Do you?" He could feel her brow hitching up out of slight surprise. "Care to give me a sneak peak?"

"Not just yet." Now his smirk, for one, was completely real. Completely mischievous, and he didn't bother hiding it when she stepped back. At the sight, her own eyes lit up. "Go get dressed." He urged, hands waving her on. "Go on, shoo! Something comfortable. We'll be on our feet for a while."

"But no running, right?" She quirked one eyebrow in question in the midst of her backpedaling.

"No, no running!" He did his best to look a bit disgruntled, even letting out a long sigh to add a bit of emphasis. "Not today."

"Good. I'm still sore from that tumble last weekend. Last time I wear heels on the job!" She winced but it just faded back into a chuckle as she turned heel and raced down the corridor. "I'll be five minutes!"

With Clara away from his line of sight, the Doctor felt like he could finally take a breath. His red-lined coat flapped majestically with no more than a brief turn of his body as his hands flew to the controls. They no longer shook; his fingers no longer felt disassembled from the rest of him. With ease he entered the appropriate coordinates for the location of their first date of the day, but held off on pulling the final lever.

He was smiling now, glancing at the spot she'd vanished to just a moment ago and urging her to speed things along. He wasn't nervous. He was excited. He was prepared. Strong. Everything would go as planned.

The first item on his list was possibly the one he was most excited for, but he couldn't be certain. It had one hell of a competition. The planet he was taking her to he'd only recently discovered. It was quiet, quaint, but utterly stunning. It didn't look as much like a planet as it did a big, floating, barely visible outlined circle floating through space. The planet had an atmosphere, it had gravity, it had a surface, but none of it visible. The entire space was perfectly transparent, allowing one the luxury to feel as if they're walking through the stars. He'd only been granted the luxury of one previous visit, and he'd always longed for the chance to go again. The sight was unlike any other... so he'd saved it for a special occasion.

And this was as special as it got.

Moments later Clara was trotting in with her hands twined into her hair as she raised it high to bind. "So!" She threw her hands onto the console edge in preparation. "Where we off to?"

"Clara Oswald, you are about to be granted the opportunity to walk straight through the stars."

"I don't just want teasers, tell me where we're going!" She said.

"You'll find out soon enough." The grin he flashed caused her heart to melt with warmth, and she managed no more than an eager nod. "Ready?"

"Start 'er up!"

With that, he slammed his hand down on the final lever and the TARDIS lurched-

But not exactly the way that it should.

"No, no, no, no! Not now!" He wailed as the ship shook violently from side to side. He heard a squeak from surprise come from his side as he grasped the monitor, trying to block away the sudden sensation of falling.

"What did you do?!" Clara squealed and gripped the console edge, her eyes wide.

"I didn't do anything!" He protested loudly, struggling to stay on his feet as he raced from one side of the console to the other. "Hang on! We're gonna crash!"

"Do something!"

"I can't!"

"Well what are you doing right now?!"

"Pressing buttons - hoping for the best!"

"Start pressing the right buttons, then!"

"I don't know which button to press!"

"How long have you been piloting this thing again?!"

His reply was drowned out by the sound of a loud thud. The gravity seemed to become nonexistent for a moment before plowing back at them as if to make up for lost time. The Doctor and Clara were sent spiraling to the ground.

"Ow." Clara whined as she struggled to sit up. "What the hell was that?"

The Doctor rubbed his head and looked from side to side with one hand pressed against the floor. "Basic malfunction."

"Basic?!"

"She'll automatically repair herself in just a few hours..." He sighed and rose to his feet, brushing his now bruised hands on his trousers.

"Hours?!"

"Yes, Clara, hours, as in sixty minutes multiplied times some other number that I'm not currently positive of!"

She placed her palm against her eyes and scratched the side of her head, frowning. Her hands fell back to her sides with a sigh of disappointment as she stood. "So much for walking through the stars."

The Doctor was staring at the edge of the console in shock. The day had barely begun and he'd already ruined their first activity. Well, maybe he hadn't been the one to ruin it, (in fact, he still wasn't sure exactly what went wrong), but it still had a drastic impact on the day.

Date one of three.

A third of Valentines Day had already been ruined.

"Just trust me."

"Who knows what you've got lurkin' in there! I'm still a bit traumatized from last time."

"Clara, trust me! I'll be right behind you... I just have to fetch something."

"Last time I was in your library I was chased by a burnt-flesh version of myself through this labyrinth of a ship you've got on you. I don't want a repeat of that, thank you very much!"

"Clara..."

"What are we even doing? I know your idea of an excitingly relaxing day is readin' that knew book you got hooked on but-"

"Okay, it's domestic, but not quite that domestic. It's perfectly fine, trust me! You'll love it." He made to part with the dismissing wave of his hands, but with the slight screwing up of his face he turned back around. "Quick question: What's your favorite film, and do you like popcorn? Wait, forget the popcorn - never mind. Can't... no. Never mind."

Clara's face went from one of confusion and unease to a complete restoration, her eyes shinning as her lips hitched up in a wide smile. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously! The planet was a hopeless bust, but the evening is far from over, Clara Oswald." He winked. "Now. Favorite movie?"

She seemed almost hesitant to reply. "The Fault in Our Stars..."

"No."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad!"

"I read the book. It was dreadful."

"It was not dreadful! Beautiful, more like it!"

"Clara, don't you dare make me watch that movie."

"I'm not making you do anything." Her face visibly fell and she crossed her arms indignantly. "This was your idea."

The Doctor bit his lip. Curse that woman and that puppy-dog face...

"You're lucky I love you." He hissed, waggling a finger a finger in front of her face then flicking it in the direction of the corridor. "Now, library. Go. I'll meet you there."

"Yes!" She had to mentally reprimand herself to keep from bouncing on her feet and clapping like a child. Clara dashed off into the corridor and made a hopeless attempt to wipe the big old stupid grin off her face.

Meanwhile the Doctor was just as giddy. Date two of three. This one couldn't possibly go wrong. Just a simple movie date in the 'hand-crafted' miniature cinema he'd set up in the TARDIS library. Nothing extravagant, but he was quite proud of himself if he were to be completely honest. Just in front of Clara's favorite lounge area he had a large television to the screen mounted to the wall (that took several minutes of bleeding thumbs and bruised palms to attach, mind you). He'd spent hours calculating the proper angle and trajectory to have it perfectly aligned with her favorite little corner on the comfortable leather two-seater. It was perfect. Down to the slimmest tenth of a millimeter.

He'd thought about this moment almost as much as the foreshadowing proposal, and each time he smiled wistfully at the image. Him and Clara curled up on the sofa, her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulder, and their hands twined, sitting contently through a film that would leave her saddened and in need of a shoulder to cry on. And he was more than ready to step up to the job.

The Doctor plucked the DVD from his collection and it took everything in him not to stick his tongue out like a child at the lovestruck teenagers on the cover. This was a movie for children. He didn't know what Clara saw in it.

But regardless, lucky for her he adored her enough to cave in and succumb to her wishes... no matter how tormenting... or agonizing.

He refused to let it ruin their moment. It was Valentines Day. And their Anniversary. And... hopefully... something much much more.

"Doctor!"

The angered screech snapped him out of his thought so hard he felt as if he'd been physically whacked on the back of his head. "Clara?" He called back, eyes showing suspicion as he jogged down the hall. "You alright?!"

"See for yourself..." He could practically hear the steam in her voice and was admittedly tentative to round the corner and catch sight of her features; reddened and searing, meanwhile her shoulders slumping with disappointment.

Apparently the crash had taken quite the toll on the rest of the household as well. The shock absorbers had been damaged. The library was littered. A couple sky-scraping bookshelves had toppled down and the ones that hadn't were nearly empty with all the books that had clattered to the floor.

There were literally mountains upon mountains of limited editions, new releases, and one-of-a-kinds.

Not only that, but the television had fallen as well.

"No, dammit!" The Doctor's brow furrowed down to the bridge of his nose as he assessed the damage. Busted. Yet another item for his personal Honey-Do list.

"So, I take it the Fault in Our Stars is cancelled..." The sadness in her voice was unmistakable, and he could detect her reasoning for keeping her eyes fixed away from his.

On a normal day, this wasn't such a big deal.

But today wasn't a normal day.

"I'm so sorry." A low growl rose in his throat and he clasped both hands around the back of his head. He let out a barely audible curse under his breath and gave a single in-place stomp.

Everything was falling apart.

"It's okay." Clara promised, forcing a smile. But he still had no doubt about her underlying feelings.

"No, it's really not." His head hung low with shame. "I'm sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen... this." He pressed his lips into a firm line and closed his eyes. "This is all wrong."

"The day's not ruined, though." She assured, hand now searching for his and twining their fingers once discovered. "I'm sure you've got somethin' else up your sleeve, don't you?"

He did, actually, but it wasn't supposed to arrive so quickly. The day was supposed to be much smoother... much nicer. And much more romantic, he thought with an inward smirk.

"Yep." He sighed out. "This one I won't screw up."

"You Romeo, you." Clara giggled and propped herself on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Promise?"

"Nope." He admitted shyly. "Now, go get on something nice."

"Okay?"

"And maybe have a quick rinse while you're at it."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing personal, Clara, but stress sweat really doesn't do the best for your hygiene." He made a show of waving a flat hand in front of his nose.

"You're mean, you are." She poked the center of his chest. "Alright, then. Where are we going?"

"That, Miss Oswald, is a surprise."

"In case you haven't noticed, surprises haven't exactly been working out for us today, Doctor."

"Nothing exotic today, my dear. Just a nice evening in. Now gooo." He gripped her shoulders and shoved her out of the room. "Take your time, too. I'm gonna see what I can do about the TARDIS and hopefully get her running again. Might take me a while, though."

"Alright." She raised her eyebrows hopefully and padded down the corridor.

"Don't forget the deodorant!"

"Shut up!"

The TARDIS was back up and running in mere moments. That wasn't what he needed the time for.

The Doctor did what he'd sworn that he would never... ever do.

He turned on the stabilizers.

'Stealth Mode', he liked to call it. He managed to somewhat mute the noisy rotors as well and the TARDIS did no more than hum beneath his feet when he pulled the activation lever. He found himself eying the blue switches warily, as if mentally growling You win.

He hoped with everything in him that Clara was a bit too concerned about her vanity to notice they were now set in motion. The ship sailed through the vortex and landed with smooth ease, barely any outward signs of travel detectable. He allowed himself a cursory check, just to be on the safe side, and nodded with satisfaction when he was assured they were in the right place. The TARDIS had managed to refrain from crashing this time too, luckily. He blessed the gods for that. The Doctor couldn't take another disaster.

He kept his steps light as he worked, silently willing the ship to keep Clara occupied for a while longer while he studied the task at hand.

Cooking wasn't exactly his specialty. The Doctor reminisced to the the last meal he'd attempted to prepare after a lengthy conversation about Clara desperately needing to take a load off. He'd never regretted winning an argument before up until that moment...

Sure, he'd set the kitchen on fire, but that was just a one-time thing, wasn't it? Besides, Clara couldn't exactly argue, what with all of her failed souffle attempts. She had no right to criticize his cooking.

He couldn't exactly go wrong with spaghetti, besides. The Doctor had admittedly chosen a bit of a... simple entree out of pure paranoia. He couldn't bare for something else to go wrong, so he decided not to take much of a chance. Spaghetti. Easiest dish in the world right?

He chuckled nervously.

Right...?

"You know, I've had it up to here with your bloody ship. Always hiding my thing, shiftin' rooms; this old cow has never showed any respect for me."

Clara's heels stomped against the metal grating of the TARDIS floor with a bit too much force than necessary as she trampled down the corridor with her fists clenched in a searing rage. "Every damn time. It's always something." She resisted the urge to slam a palm against the wall and give the ship a good reprimand. Maybe that would snap her into shape.

Right before entering the console room Clara had to stop her tracks. She was just out of visibility and took the chance to do one final self-check. Admittedly, she was eager to look her best.

The front of the well-fitting black dress she wore hung all the way to her knees while towards the back it was long enough to flow nearer to her ankles. The attire was purposely a bit low-cut and she adjusted the shoulders, smoothed out the torso, fixed the back of one heeled shoe, then started forward.

"Doctor? She called out curiously, his presence suspiciously lacking. Frowning, Clara ventured closer to the console and cast a glance around. He was nowhere in sight. "Doctor!" She considered departing back into the corridor and performing a few searches within, but she'd passed his bedroom on her way out and seen nothing of him.

She spun around at the sound of a booming voice and the slam of the TARDIS doors. There the Doctor stood, panting, blackened... and singed?

"Clara... Hi... okay. Don't panic... slight situation."

"What the hell happened to you?!" She raced forward with her hands outstretched, palms against his shoulders as she peered into his eyes.

"Don't freak out." He held up a finger. "Don't get mad, don't panic, just stay calm. I'm gonna fix this. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what..." She bit her lip and prayed that closing her eyes would be enough to ebb the strangled scream bubbling in her throat.

"Okay. Okay." Slowly his shaking hands grabbed hers and he twined their fingers, palms pressed together as he squeezed tight. "Take a deep breath."

"What the hell did you do..."

"In..."

"Doctor."

"Out..."

"Doctor!"

He bounced with lively anxiety and released his grip. "I'm going to fix this... and it's not as bad as it looks."

"What isn't as bad as it looks?!" Clara struck his shoulder as she plowed straight through him and shoved open the doors, hand flying to her mouth to contain a shocked gasp.

He didn't.

"Clara!" His attempts to drag her back into the TARDIS failed miserably with a flail of hands and words alike.

She was furious.

"You set..."

"Clara-"

"My flat..."

"I'm sorry-"

"On fire."

"Turns out spaghetti isn't as easy to make as I thought..."

"I mean, what were you even doing?!" She cried over the sound of sirens and a blasting fire hose, which was delivering a few precautionary squirts to the side of the blackened building. Captains barked orders and men scrambled to and fro. Clara took a few steps back on the slick asphalt and tangled her hands in her hair, the stress increasing her respiration tenfold. She needed to sit down.

"Making dinner." The Doctor's voice was low and far beyond apologetic. His regret shown through his charred features from the way his lips drooped and his eyes lulled to fix on a spot on the ground. Still, he started forward, one hand at the small of her back to guide her across the street to a park bench on the roadside.

"You burned my bloody flat." She sat down and cradled her face in her hands.

"I swear it's not nearly as bad as it looks. Sure, the stove's ruined... and okay the kitchen doesn't look amazing. But nothing valuable was damaged... Clara I'm so sorry. None of this was supposed to happen! This wasn't-"

Clara silenced him with her fingers to his lips, her brow creased questioningly. "Hang on. What did you just say?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen." He mumbled against her fingertips, the desperation and sadness in her eyes made her heart sink.

"No, before that."

He tilted his head and touched her wrist to pry it away from his face. "The stove is ruined..."

"Keep going." She waved her hand mid-air. "Before that."

The Doctor didn't reply, just stared at her slack-jawed and uneasy.

"Did you say you were making dinner?"

"Well that would sort of explain why I set fire to the place. Cooking. Not exactly my strong point..." He let out a chuckle that his heart wasn't quite into. "Yes. I was attempting to make dinner."

Clara's face immediately diminished from one of fury to a much softer, interested tone. "But you hate to cook."

"Hate to cook, in love with you," He held his palms upturned, alternating lifting one higher than the other. "It's a good balance."

"Doctor." Her eyes shone. "You were making dinner."

"Yes."

"For me?"

"For us."

"Why?"

The answer was simple. "Because I love you." There was something lingering behind his eyes; a sentiment she couldn't see.

In that moment, Clara pushed all of her anger and frustration far into a hidden part of the back of her mind and locked it away with a mental key and chain. One corner of her lip twitched up into a lopsided smile, and her entire demeanor changed. Suddenly, all that she could manage to focus on was him.

She extended one hand to brush through his hair before it slid to his face, her thumb wiping away some of the blackening smoke remnants from around his eyes. "Did you get hurt?"

"I wasn't exactly keen to stick around when I realized that I'd set your home on fire, so no." He laughed and hung his head low, but he couldn't bear to keep his eyes off her for long. "You look beautiful." His gaze swept all across her beautiful figure, but her face drew his most attention. He affectionately swiped the dangling bangs from her eyes and smiled just as she did.

"And you look amazing." Her hands rested on his collar where she straightened the tie he wore, her fingertips then exploring his shoulders and the smooth fabric his coat had to offer. "You didn't have to get all dressed up. I know you don't like it."

"I like you, so it's worth it."

On that note, her heart completely soared, and she was left wordless.

"Clara... I-"

"You don't need to keep apologizing. It was an accident."

"It's not just that, there's-" He broke off. Why was this so hard?

"There's what?"

He was hesitant to speak up, and even when he did he realized that once again he'd failed to follow through. The Doctor hauled himself to his feet and took a couple steps forward, only to turn heel and spin back to face her with redness rimming his eyes. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" His fingers dragged their way down his face. "It wasn't supposed to go like this. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Clara screwed up her face in sympathy and stood to join him, her hand immediately connecting with his and gripping unnecessarily hard. "Look at me." One hand on his cheek she tilted his head to face her, but didn't continue until his eyes followed. "There will be plenty more anniversaries, if I'm lucky, and an equal amount of Valentines. This isn't our only chance. We'll have that perfect day yet." She rose on her tip-toes with the intention to touch his lips, but he flinched away from her touched completely and gradually widened the gap. She noticed his left hand moving restlessly in his pocket, and it temporarily drew her gaze.

"It's not just that, Clara."

"Then what else is it?"

Today was supposed to be special. Today was supposed to be memorable. None of it went as planned... I'm so sorry.

Nothing went the way it should.

Everything was ruined.

I screwed it all up...

But I can't let that stop me.

Not again.

On the verge of backing down for a hundredth time, the Doctor couldn't bare to waste a single second.

It didn't matter that the day had been a bust.

It didn't matter that their dates had fallen through.

Nothing mattered besides the fact that the Doctor was wholeheartedly committed to the love of his life.

And it was about time that she knew that.

Clara was still watching him with the utmost confusion, her brow knitted and furrowed. But her entire facial expression relaxed; her jaw dropped, her eyelids sagged with shock, and she felt her heart stop when the Doctor dropped to one knee.

His eyes didn't meet hers for a moment, as if he were fumbling for words.

"Clara... I've known you for a long time."

It was as cliche as cliche got, but he didn't care.

And neither did she.

"From the first time I saw you... the real you... there was something there. There always has been." He dragged a palm across his face, trying to calm his shuddering breaths. "One year now, we've been officially together, but it's been far longer that I've been dreaming to ask..." His hand finally slid out of his pocket to reveal the small, impossibly blue box that he held between his thumb and index finger, his opposites working to open the lid. "I know this is far too traditional, and you probably expected something a bit more... extravagant from your alien boyfriend. This day had turned out to be an absolute failure so far, but the sun hasn't completely died down yet."

Clara pressed one hand to her chest and the back of the other to her mouth, her emotions nearly sending her plummeting over the edge of an inevitable breakdown. Tears stung her eyes as she waited for him to continue.

The Doctor blinked away his own tears, and smiled the warmest smile ever witnessed.

"Clara Oswald, will you do me the greatest honor..." He cleared his throat. "And... marry...me..."

She bit her lip and failed to suppress the sudden bout of tear-filled laughter that erupted from her throat. She nodded, smiling broadly, but couldn't catch her breath long enough to reply.

So instead, she grasped his collar and pulled him to his feet so she could crash her mouth straight against his. Soft, warm lips met thin cool, and her hand cradled the back of his head to hold him as tight as her strength allowed.

His heart leaped to his throat and he hooked both arms around her waist to pull her body flush against him. A bit of wetness escaped his eye and landed with a soft splash, and it was just enough of a start for Clara to drag herself out of her trance and pull back, gasping for air.

"So is that a yes?" The Doctor's heart was fluttering with relief, his eyes wide, his hands no longer shaking as he gripped her sides.

Clara just laughed again and threw her arms around his neck. She pressed her face against his shoulder, held him tight, and whispered her promise.

"Yes."

The Doctor and Clara had made the most of their celebration that night.

Already dressed for a nice evening, the engaged pair had set off for a night out on the town. They took a stroll through the London streets and admired the stars twinkling in the sky. "Got to walk through the stars after all." Clara had commented with the tighter gripping of the Doctor's hand as they walked on.

They saw a sappy romantic film that agonized the Doctor the whole way through. At least on the outside. Who knew such a cheesy chick flick could hit him so hard.

The two even snagged the chance to dine together that night, deciding it best to let a professional do the cooking for them so they could solely concentrate on savoring their non burnt meal.

Now back in the TARDIS, Clara sat cross legged on the center of the bed in her and the Doctor's now shared bedroom, her head drooped as she admired the silvery ring on her left hand. She twisted it around on her finger, pulled it off and on again a number of times, even just taking a few seconds to clutch it close to her chest at times. Her heart still raced every time she rested her gaze upon it, and of course, she'd become convinced that...

She was most definitely the luckiest woman in the world.

"Are you ever going to quit staring at that thing?" The Doctor's amused voice broke into her thoughts and caused her to startle, flinching out of surprise before turning to face him with a smile and a sigh.

"Doubt it." She admitted, but put her hand aside and moved a bit further towards the headboard.

The Doctor laughed with a touch of unmistakable pride and flopped himself down onto the bed at her side, hands clasped behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

They sat in an oddly welcomed silence for a few minutes, perfectly content relaxing to the sound of the others breathing. Every now and again Clara would snag a chance to gaze at the Doctor's face when he wasn't aware, then he'd do the same each time she looked away.

This was their very first time ever sharing a bed, and despite their close, intimate relationship, it was a bit uncomfortable.

"Is this awkward for you?" No laughter tinted his voice as he himself felt a bit uneasy.

"No." Clara lied, contemplating whether or not to eliminate the remaining lighting in the room. Maybe they could just sleep this last problematic away.

"I'm tired." She spoke up after a moment, shifting around on the bedsheets until she was tucked underneath. Her hand hovered over the lamp switch, waiting for permission. The Doctor slid beneath the covers and gave a brisk nod, and they were soon consumed by blackness.

Every shift was tentative. Every breath was silenced. Their legs bumped against each other, the duo flinched. Their shoulders accidentally touched, they apologized. Their nose bumped-

And then Clara was on him.

She gathered up all of her long-since pent up thirst and need and poured it into one kiss, her lips slamming against his with such heat that he wasn't sure how to react. But after a mere moment the Doctor was reciprocating her excitement and passion hungrily.

Clara gripped the neckline of his t-shirt and sat back, pulling him along until they were both on their knees and ravishing their need on each others lips. For several minutes, it was a consistent battle for dominance. Hands tangling in hair, tongues sliding past parted lips, they were quite the match. Each of them daring the other to kiss deeper, bite harder, pull tighter. When the Doctor won out he rewarded himself with a fistful of her long hazel hair and snaked his hand around to press against the small of her back, pulling her close against him.

There's a bitterly sweet taste lingering on her lips, the Doctor noticed. One that sent an unpleasant shiver through his entire being. It takes a moment to identify; to figure out why the sensation angers him and he realizes.

It's the taste of other men.

He only snogs her harder, wanting to mark her as his in the most humane way possible. And he couldn't think of a better solution.

Clara hiked her hand slightly beneath the hem of his shirt and splayed her palm flat against his. She forcefully traced each of his ribs with careful fingertips until the excessive clothing was beginning to bother her. With a commanding yank, the Doctor obediently pulled it up and over his head. Unable to stand the lack of embrace they were at each other again, harder and faster than before.

She savored the violent thudding of his hearts beneath her palms as she explored every inch of his chest and stomach. She reached one hand to her back to begin her work on the zip of her dress, but the Doctor completed the task for her.

Only a bit of material came between them and the most memorable night of their lives, but in order to make it memorable they couldn't afford to rush, no matter how eager. The Doctor clasped his icy hands against Clara's bare sides and leaned forward to ease her flat onto the mattress, his mouth still ravishing hers with a burning passion.

Clara's heart felt nonexistent for a period of time when the Doctor tilted her head to grant himself access to her neck where he nipped and sucked like a hormonal teen. She gasped and moaned when he hit just that one spot and oh... It felt wonderful. His hands slid up and down her torso and she dug her nails into his shoulders, biting her tongue.

He marked her with teeth and tongue, then kissed each of the bruises he left in the aftermath. He sat back and stared admirable as he watched Clara slide her hand to her back and unsnap the clasp of her bra, baring herself fully before him.

The Doctor's mouth water and he crashed his mouth against hers yet again. He palmed and scraped his fingers across her breasts, smiling with satisfaction when she moaned beneath him.

The moment was memorable enough. They needed to move things along.

Clara rested her fingertips across his cheek and agonizingly slowly slid her hand down, tracing a thin line down his neck, his chest, his torso, until she could cup her hand over the solid bulge in his trousers.

It was the Doctor's turn to savor in the pleasure and he groaned and pushed his hips down against her hand, silently begging - no - pleading for more. He twined his fingers into the bedsheets and it took everything in him not to take her right then and there. Clara was moving too slow for his liking. Her smirk betrayed her true intentions and wishes for teasing as she began working his loosely-fit pyjama trousers over his hips, keeping a firm pressure against his hardening erection as she did.

With an offensive growl he bat her hand away and finished the task himself, hungrily devouring her mouth again as her 'punishment' for her actions. But it all faded and he felt like he was crumbling the moment she took his length in both hands. She squeezed, stroked, and scraped her nails up and down, giving it a few pumps to make him even more firm.

"Clara..." His moan was throaty and strangled and he buried his face in her neck, his weak hands against the mattress just barely managing to keep him from falling apart with pleasure.

"I can't wait any longer." She groaned between kisses, speaking her need by guiding his hand to the waistband of her knickers.

He hooked both index fingers into the material at each of her hips and yanked it all the way down her legs. His cold, open palm pressed firmly against Clara's flat stomach and she sighed. She bit hard on his lower lip in attempt to hurry him along, and he responded immediately.

Two long fingers slid through her warm folds, and his arousal grew at the realization of what he'd done to her. He felt a surge of pride as he thumbed her wetness and felt her squirm beneath him, breath shortening when he pushed both fingers into her heat and flicked her sensitive clit.

"God... Doctor..." She bit his shoulder with a cry of ecstasy, and he took it as a sign to move his fingers faster. But as soon as he started, she stopped him.

"Want you..." She said throatily and guided his erection to her entrance. "Need you."

And then they were in the home stretch.

The Doctor plowed into her and all his breath was sucked right out of his lungs as he was enveloped into her warm heat. He growled and sucked her lips, fingers kneading into her shoulders and bruising her skin.

Beneath him, Clara cried out, moaning his name again and again. Her hands clasped themselves together around his back and she pulled him tighter against her, already drawn dangerously close to the edge.

He gripped her hips and granted himself the ability to control their movements. He thrust in then out, slowed down, then sped back up at her strangled plead. Hipbones connected and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed off the walls. And then they were both coming apart.

Their joined climax was unimaginable; his cock pulsing inside of her and her inward walls involuntarily clenching around him as she screamed, and so did he. A few Doctor's and a dozen Clara's later and they were collapsed against each other, panting, flushed, and dripping with more than just sweat.

And there they lay. For minutes, for hours, they lost track after the first few seconds. His heartbeats were her lullaby, and her breathing his. Fingers traced patterns on skin, lips met every once in a while until they were contently relaxed against each other, sleep soon dragging them down into it's clutches.

And so it began, the start of their biggest adventure yet.