Dreamers

Later, she would roll over in her bed fully expecting to find the warm body of her husband beside her. All that greeted her however, was a cold and unoccupied space.

Strange, she thought as she listened to the sound of traffic outside her window. How do you miss a life you never led?

Then:

He was in a full blown panic by the time he reached her side. He had use of his limbs, and the other - the Dream Lord - was nowhere to be seen. But Clara wasn't so lucky - her skin was pale and her lips were blue.

Somewhere, in the dark recesses of his memories, he had memories of her dying, over and over, always because of him. The thought of witnessing it again made him want to retch.

Cradling her in his arms, he held her close enough to determine that she was indeed, breathing. Thanking every single god he didn't believe in, the Doctor lifted her body and carried her into his own bed without any hesitation.

Every once in a while, whether she was in the classroom, or shopping for groceries, or watching the telly, she would find herself idly rubbing at the base of her fourth finger on her left hand.

"Why do you do that?" Danny asked, watching her do this over dinner one night. "Hinting for a ring are we?"

It was a forced joke. Actually, the whole date felt forced. Things hadn't been the same between them, and she knew that he knew that it had something to do with the Doctor.

Danny was sweet and kind, handsome and brave, human and uncomplicated – any sane girl should consider herself so lucky to be with him.

Clara wasn't sure if she fit that description anymore.

Setting her cutlery down, Clara opened her mouth to speak, but Danny beat her to the punch.

"I guess we're about to have a 'talk' aren't we?" his sideways smile hid his feelings, but not well.

"Yea." She nodded, wondering what happened to the speech she had crafted in her head. "Yea."

"Should I even bother asking why?" he asked. "Or should I just assume you're leaving me for the Doctor?"

Clara looked down at her food, feeling something quite similar to shame welling up insider her.

"Yeah…that's what I thought," she heard Danny say. "I've been expecting this for some time, to be really honest."

"How could you have?" she asked. "I didn't."

"Right." She peered up to see that he was smiling ruefully. "Of course you think you didn't."

Clara reached over and gently grasped Danny's large hand in her own.

"I'm really sorry." She said earnestly.

"I know," he nodded, not pulling away from her. "But that's neither here nor there."

"Nothing's actually happened between…between him and I." Clara wondered how true that statement was.

"…Right…" he didn't sound convinced.

"I'm serious," she said.

He looked away from her for a second, studying the faces of the people around them.

"Clara, I care about you very, very much." He said at last, withdrawing his hand from hers. "I don't like the Doctor and I don't want to break up with you. But most of all, I don't want to see you unhappy…so if being with him makes you happy then...good."

He picked up his fork and stabbed at a potato.

"I can't lie - I hope whatever the two of you have goes up in flames," he grinned before taking a bite. With his mouth full, he added, "Big…flamey…catastrophe."

Clara laughed, and said, "It probably will."

They smiled at each other for a few moments. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "I suppose I better get the bill. Don't really fancy sitting around for too long with the girl who just chucked me."

"Fair enough," she nodded. "I hope things won't be awkward between us at work tomorrow."

"Oh, but it will be," he promised sardonically, taking a sip of his beer. "It very much will be."

Then:

According to the Doctor, she had been out for days (although, what does time mean anyway in a time machine?).

"What happened?" she croaked, her throat parched as a desert. Her eyes – shut for so long - fluttered close against what felt like a blinding light overhead.

She was met with silence, and the sound of a shutting door.

When she was well enough to walk and stand on her own, he dropped her off in her own empty home, which had never seemed so unfamiliar to her. As he turned to go, she reached out and grabbed his hand. She didn't miss his wince as they touched.

"I will see you again right?" she asked, inexplicably struck by the notion that he was abandoning her forever.

He cracked a rusty smile.

"I couldn't stay away from you if I tried…but...I think perhaps I need to take some time on my own…"

That wasn't what she wanted to hear at all. Nonetheless, she said, "I get it. Sure."

He was watching the birth of a brand new species taking place on the underside of a gas cloud a few parsecs away from Earth when it occurred to him that Clara would have enjoyed an outing like this very much.

The Doctor sighed out loud, earning himself a disapproving look from the guide in front of him, who had been lecturing a group of young Venusians. It might have been a disapproving look anyway – the guide had too many eyes for him to be able to truly read.

Despondently returning to the TARDIS, the Doctor hesitated a little before he charted a course back to Earth.

The next little while was mostly uneventful. Mostly.

From a rooftop across the street, he would sometimes watch her through her windows after she got home from work. From adjacent classrooms at Coal Hill, he'd surreptitiously check in on her, closely observing her every move. The Doctor supposed he could have just gone directly to her, instead of skulking about, spying on her like some sort of low grade pervert.

The one constant he observed was the air of heavy contemplation bordering on a deep sadness which hung about her being nowadays. He had an inkling as to the cause of her melancholy, but he wasn't ready to address it just yet - not when he needed to work on his own issues.

That had been the plan anyway, until the night he saw her leaving work with the Soldier man, and realized with belated irritation, who she was sharing her evening meal with.

Against his better judgment, the Doctor trailed behind the two schoolteachers like a sulky schoolboy, and watched from a shadowy corner as they got themselves seated.

Jealousy exploded in the Doctor's mind as he watched the two of them holding hands across the dinner table. All his precautions and his plans suddenly ceased to make any difference. It took every last ounce of self-control he had not to march across the room to their table, in order to pull the two of them apart. His fingers curled into a fist as he imagined the sensation of bones breaking under his knuckles.

Clara would be wise to run, a little voice said at the back of his head, words which he pointedly ignored.

Stalking back towards the TARDIS and without any hesitation once he was within, the Doctor keyed in a specific set of coordinates.

When next he stepped out of his ship, he was in her empty bedroom.

It was only thirty minutes later when she arrived. The Doctor didn't stop to consider why she was home so soon, although he did note with some satisfaction that she was alone.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him.

"Close the door." He said with deadly calm.

"Hello to you too," she said sarcastically, but complied nonetheless. "You disappear for a few weeks and now you're just swanning in like you own the place."

Clara turned around to find herself suddenly within inches of the Doctor, who had crossed the distance between them with alarming speed. Slamming his hands against the wooden surface, one on either side of her head, he had her trapped between the door and his body, close enough she could feel his breath ghosting against her face.

"Doctor…" she breathed, "What are you doing?"

He didn't say anything in response. Instead, he just stared at her intently, allowing his gaze to fall to her lips. Unconsciously, her tongue darted out and licked at her bottom lip.

Without warning, he scooped down low and captured her lips with his. His right hand cupped the base of her skull, preventing her from moving away. Sharp teeth caught her lips and tongue as if he sought to devour her utterly; trailing his lips along her jaw, he nipped at her earlobes while his hands wandered down the small of her back.

"Wait," she managed to gasp.

"For?" he asked, his fingers digging almost painfully into her hips.

"Shouldn't we talk about what happened first?" she tried to catch her breath as his mouth worked urgently against her neck.

"There's nothing to talk about," he growled against her skin. "You're mine. Every inch of you."

Pushing his body against hers with his hands on her face, he kissed her deeply and desperately. Clara could feel his arousal through her dress as wetness pooled between her legs. Vaguely, she remembered how it felt in the dream world when he took her, but there was no time for half memories that didn't truly exist.

Tasting him in reality was so much more intoxicating than any dream she might have lived.

Clever fingers trailed down her side and reached under the hem of her skirt. Skillfully, he pushed aside her panties and brushed against her damp slit.

"Oh," she murmured as he circled her clit with his thumb. Her hips jerked forwards, but one hand kept her pinned against the front door.

"Uh uh," his eyes gleamed. "You move when I decide."

The Doctor's long fingers slipped inside her, finger fucking her at an achingly slow speed. His own breath was uneven as he watched her come apart in his hands, begging without words for him to offer her release.

Just as she was about to come, he withdrew his fingers and buried them in her hair, drawing her in for another kiss as he swallowed her disappointed moan.

Turning her around, he gently pushed her deeper into the living room and bent her over the arm of the sofa. Sliding her cotton underwear off her legs, he pulled her legs apart and stroked her across her dripping opening, listening raptly as she came undone, laid bare before him.

They were lying together in her bed much later, legs tangled and hair matted, when he pronounced, "I don't think you should see that PE teacher anymore."

"His name is Danny," she retorted. "And he's a Math teacher."

"You know what I mean." The Doctor sniffed haughtily.

"We broke up earlier tonight." She said.

The Doctor paused, replaying the scene he had been privy to in the restaurant. He had the grace to feel a little embarrassed – not that he was going to admit anything of the sort to Clara.

"Good." He said shortly.

"Can we talk about your mental breakdown a few weeks ago?" Clara asked.

"I was worried you were going to leave me after that whole incident with the moon." The Doctor ran a hand over his face. "My brain shorted from stress. When a Time Lord's brain shorts, bad things tend to happen."

Clara rolled over to look at him with some disbelief.

"You could have said something," she sounded aghast. "I wasn't going to leave you. Not really."

"Well…good." He looked as if he were trying to make himself believe her.

"To my recollection, I have lived…and died…for you over and over." She poked his shoulder with a finger. "We had one fight and you couldn't let that go?"

"Yes fine." he replied irritably. "What do you want, an apology?"

"Yes," she replied. "Actually, that would be very nice."

The Doctor closed his eyes. Finally, he said very softly, "I'm sorry."

"Ok," she collapsed back in his arms.

"That's it?" he asked. "You don't want to talk about your feelings? About the change in the nature of our relationship?"

"Tomorrow. In the meantime, if you don't mind shutting the TARDIS door and coming back to bed," her voice was muffled against her pillows. "That would be great. I can't sleep with that light streaming in."

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it at the very last. Grumbling, he did as he was told before climbing under the sheets with her.

In the silence of the night, the Doctor breathed Clara in, marveling at how soft and how right she felt in his arms, her body tucked up against his. When finally he allowed himself to drift off into sleep, it was a dreamless and deep slumber, punctuated only by the beating of their hearts.

FIN