Wrote this last night at around midnight, because that's when my best ideas come on. Plus, there's something satisfying about listening to You Are In Love by Taylor Swift and the tapping of your fingers against the keyboard. XD (Speaking of which, I listened to that song while writing this chapter...God, the entire 1989 album is basically about the Doctor and Clara's relationship. I mean, in You Are In Love, it literally says, "You're my best friend. And you knew what it was - he is in love.")

So...let the kiss happen! (You might want to catch the sneak peek of the Christmas Special to read this chapter. You can find it on YouTube - it was for Children in Need. Don't know much about that event, but they showed the sneak peek. Gawd. If you didn't watch it yet, just watch it and let your feels explode.)

And the One Time He Did

When the Doctor walked back into the TARDIS, Clara Oswald was already waiting for him. Still dressed in her nightgown and eyes wide with surprise, she asked, "So you're back then? Actually, properly back?" Before the Doctor could answer, Clara pressed her hands to her face. Shaking her head, she let out a small, incredulous giggle. "Oh, my God," she whispered, more to herself than to the Doctor. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again – no, I thought you were going to be gone forever. I thought we had our goodbye and everything was really, very done." Clara looked back up at the Doctor, hands still over her face. Letting out a little sigh of awe, Clara whispered, "Are you really here? Or am I still dreaming?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak – yes, he was back, and no, this wasn't a dream – but he couldn't find himself to do it, mainly because Clara was now running towards him. Just as she had done a few minutes ago, the Doctor found Clara pressing her hands against his arm, as though she was testing his physical existence. A scared, anxious frown crossed her face; like in any minute, the Doctor and the TARDIS really might disappear.

Just to prove his point, the Doctor slowly reached over and took Clara's hands. He was stunned to feel them trembling underneath his; Clara Oswald, the woman who always tried so very hard to keep her panic and fear hidden, was shaking.

So maybe Santa Clause – or whoever he is – was right. Clara Oswald was not fine.

"It's me," the Doctor said gently. He pointed around the TARDIS with his other hand, and with a halfhearted smile, said, "It's not going to fade away. See?" He reached down and pinched Clara's arm, causing her to give a small cry of surprise. "Not fake," the Doctor added.

"Clearly," Clara murmured, letting go of the Doctor's hand to rub the area. Emitting another soft breath, Clara backed a few steps away to look around the TARDIS. She circled the console, took note of the bookshelves still lined around the upper level, and even smiled at the multiple knickknacks littered around the floor. For a fleeting second, the Doctor wondered if he should have cleaned up the place before letting Clara in.

Now, he instantly chided to himself. You're doing this now? When there's more at stake?

"So." Clara said shortly, turning around to look at the Doctor with her arms wrapped around her torso. (Not over her chest, the Doctor couldn't help but to notice. Not in the same confident, cool way that she had always done before. What exactly happened last time I left?) "So…is there a real reason why I'm in here? I thought you were busy with…Gallifrey."

"Right. Gallifrey," the Doctor hummed, trying to sound as casual as possible. His eyes travelled up to the ceiling and then, after a beat of silence, said, "I'm allowed to take a break once in a while. Really, running a planet isn't exactly stress-free once you get around doing it."

Still lying, then.

Clara's eyebrows jumped up to her hairline. "You really became king," she said quietly, a small smile twitching at the corner of her lips. Her eyes were doing the sad thing again – they were growing wider, darker, and more watery. The Doctor hated that. I'm sorry, he wanted to shout. I didn't want to lie, but I have to, don't I? I can't keep dragging you around like this, so I swear this'll be the last time I ever ask you for something.

Giving a minuet shrug of the shoulders, the Doctor replied, "Your idea seemed somewhat appealing at the time. Some of the Council members can be a real bother, though, did I mention? Not at all boring, of course, but all they want to do is sit around and talk about laws all day. Not that I don't care for them, but really, you'd think they'd have a sense of humor once in a while." Striding up to the console, the Doctor shot Clara a (hopefully) convincing look. "That's what's coming from my side, anyways. And how're you with…P.E.?"

Clara let her hands fall down to the console, only a few centimeters away from the Doctor's. "Danny, you mean? You could always call him by his name, you know," she responded. She looked up at the Doctor and went on, "He's fine. Back as a maths teacher and his ahem – death was dismissed as some sort of confusion. UNIT somehow took care of it."

"Really," the Doctor answered, trying to keep his voice light. Clara bobbed her head into a single nod. She cleared her throat and looked back down at the console, saying, "Teaching's been fine, too. You know – pretty normal. Pretty quiet. Very…peaceful. Calm."

And you like that? The Doctor wanted to ask.

Instead, he nodded back. He pushed himself away from the console and started to walk up to the bookshelves. He could sense Clara's eyes being trained on him, but didn't bother turning around to look at her. Clara Oswald was – somehow – in danger. And something was going to come. Today. Christmas.

Why was it always Christmas?

Brushing his fingers over the spines of the books, the Doctor ran through his thoughts. Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara. She was alive, at least. She looked well. If anything, she looked a bit tired – then again, she'd have to, being a teacher and all – but if there was something she was hiding from him, she was doing an awful good job at it. (And that was surprising the Doctor – he prided himself in being someone who wasn't easily fooled, especially by a human.)

But at least she was with him now, even if it might just be for one night. Even if it might just be for a few hours and then back to…Clara being at her boring, peaceful teacher job and being with good, extremely patient P.E. Danny Pink. Solider Boy. Whatever the label was, it just wasn't the Doctor. And then the Doctor would go back to running by himself, trying to ignore the too-quiet atmosphere of the TARDIS, trying to get past the fact that he shouldn't park in Clara's flat.

"You're quieter than I last remember you," Clara finally said. At that, the Doctor couldn't help but to look around at her. She was leaning against the railing, head tilted. "Is ruling a planet really that stressful?"

"Can't I be quiet because I want to be?" the Doctor simply asked. Clara pointed a finger at him. "Now, that's the Doctor I know," she replied. "The Doctor who constantly snaps back because he was growing annoyed." Playing with the hem of her sleeves, Clara added, "Really forgot how frustrating it was to argue with you when you were in those retort-moods."

"And that's the Clara Oswald I know," the Doctor flung back. "The Clara Oswald who can't help but to make little attentive, somewhat sharp comments when it gets too quiet."

Shaking her head, Clara walked up the stairs to the upper level. "Still wondering how this isn't a dream," she whispered. "I mean…" She gestured to the Doctor helplessly. "I'd sometimes have dreams about you, you know." After a moment of hesitation, Clara cringed. "That sounded awkward," she murmured, but the Doctor really didn't mind.

Because he secretly had visions of Clara coming back, too.

Sucking in a breath, Clara continued, "What I mean to say is that…" She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the floor. "I really missed you." Resting a palm of her hand against her cheek, she said, "I just found myself in…times when I'd see your TARDIS in my room, or you walking out of the school to tell me about something interesting, or…or sometimes, when I look up at a star or the moon, I'll think about you and that's when I'd miss you." Snorting, Clara re-opened her eyes. "That sounded sappy," she concluded. "Pity. I never liked cheesy, honeyed-over stories, but…that's where it's always coming from."

Her eyes flit back up at the Doctor. "You're quiet again," she commented. "Tell me all that stuff I said was stupid and silly, Doctor." When the Doctor didn't respond right away, Clara frowned. "Well?" she asked, turning around. "Tell me that that wasn't right for me to say; that you didn't miss me or that this is just some sort of delusion that I've been dreaming up."

The Doctor felt his throat close up. He stared at Clara's back – at her hair tumbling over her shoulders, at the small quiver in her shoulders, at the way her neck bent as she stared down at the floor. Oh, Clara, he thought sadly. Slowly, hesitantly, he stretched out a hand, only inches away from her back.

Say it. Say it now, or you might not ever get her back. Say it, Doctor.

The Doctor was beginning to wonder if the small voice in his head was really his or someone trying to root him on. Either way, swallowing down, the Doctor replied quietly, "I missed you, too."

Clara immediately turned around. "What?" she asked.

"You heard me," the Doctor responded, looking down at her. He gently placed his hands over her shoulders. "I missed you, too." He gave an incredulous laugh. "Maybe a bit more than I think I would like to admit." He nodded his head at the TARDIS doors. "You think you were getting bothered that I wasn't showing up in your room? I was trying to fight down the habit of landing myself there."

Clara blinked up at him. "Then why didn't you come?" she breathed.

"You…had Danny," the Doctor replied. He paused and then fighting around the lie, added, "And…I had Gallifrey. I didn't think you'd want me to bother you. Obviously." A sad smile stretched across the Doctor's face – he didn't even try hiding the bitterness in it when he said, "You'd get what you want. A normal life, some control in what happens around you without an old man pulling you around."

Clara inched forward, her face close to the Doctor's. "That's the thing, Doctor," she said, her voice lowering. "I…don't even know if that normal life is what I want anymore." She mirrored the Doctor's motions, her hands placed at his shoulders. "Isn't that a bit odd?"

"Not odd," the Doctor murmured. "Though some might say that it was a bit…unexpected."

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "Some might argue that the unexpected is a good thing."

The next word the Doctor breathed out was so quiet that he could barely hear himself say it.

"Maybe."

And then the Doctor was leaning forward – and then Clara was leaning in – and that was enough. Clara's body was flush against his, face tilted up so her lips could meet his. The Doctor cupped his hand underneath Clara's chin, just to catch the kiss a bit better. It was a different feeling than the other kisses that the Doctor experienced – (then again, the first kiss he had gotten in this body was from the Master – or Missy, whatever – and that was…a bit quick,) – softer, more bittersweet.

Clara lazily wrapped her arms around the Doctor's shoulders, her fingers playing ever so gently with his hair. In return, the Doctor allowed himself to lower his hands around the curves of her hips.

Everything had flown out of the Doctor's head, and he had the feeling that Clara wasn't really paying attention to anything else in this moment, either. He forgot about everything – forgot that there was some sinister plot revolving around the two at the moment, forgot that Clara had Danny, forgot that he had been lying to Clara about Gallifrey…because all that didn't really matter.

When the two did part, all that was left of them were a few shuddering, shaky breaths. Clara had her hands rested over the Doctor's chest now, and the Doctor's head was positioned over her shoulder. The small brunette leaned forward, the tip of her head gently brushing against him. "Okay," she whispered. "We just did that."

"Apparently so," the Doctor managed to reply.

Clara looked up at him. And then, with a weak smile, she said, "At least I know you're real now…and not another one of my daydreams."

"That, Clara, I think, goes for me as well."

A/N - Or Wonderland by Taylor Swift...that song fits them pretty well, too. Mostly about the Doctor and Clara traveling, though. ("And we pretended it could last forever. We found Wonderland, you and I got lost in it - and life was never worse but never better.") Sounds like them to me. XD

Anyways. Thank you for all the amazing support, you guys! Really - when I first started this story, I was a bit nervous, because I wasn't quite confident in my take on the Twelfth Doctor. But hey, that's where practice comes in, right? And you guys were all so kind and sweet towards this little mini-story - so thanks a bunch! I think I'm going to begin writing more stories for Doctor Who, specifically Whouffaldi, because I mean...*giggles* It's like an addiction, isn't it? *sly smile*

Thank you!