A/N Warning for M rated things during this chapter as our story concludes!

9. Release

The TARDIS was parked back in the living room of Clara's flat and she was making them hot drinks in her pyjamas. If you didn't know her you would have no idea she had just destroyed the belief system of an ancient culture with one flash of her big brown eyes. The Doctor put his feet up on the coffee table and waited for his tea to arrive. She'd been pretty spectacular he had to admit, and it was rather hard to make the realisation that the tiny woman shuffling tiredly towards him now in fluffy slippers was the goddess like creature whose monument now stood on an alien planet.

He accepted the mug of tea and shifted up the couch a bit to let her on. Clara curled up next to him and joined him in staring at the far wall.

'So what now?' she said wearily. The Doctor exhaled.

'Not entirely sure.'

'Got a plan?'

'No,' he took a sip of tea.

'Doctor?'

'Yes?'

'I've been thinking. There are two ways to get the necklace off,' Clara said, 'Both the museum guy and the Temple Master have said that. The first one we'd have to truly lose all feeling for one another...'

The Doctor stiffened, he knew where she was going with this.

'What's the other one? You know don't you?'

'Yes, and no it's not possible.'

'But what is it?'

'It doesn't matter if it's not possible, Clara.'

'That doesn't sound like you for starters,' Clara teased, 'Everything's possible with a blue box and a screwdriver.'

He looked into his tea non-committally.

'At least tell me what it is?' she wheedled.

He sighed.

'Doctor!' she prodded impatiently. 'You might as well tell me, everything else is a bust.' She saw the muscle of his jaw twitch a little.

'The purpose of the necklace is to assist the couple in being together. Strengthening the relationship, encouraging the bond….' He relented.

'Yes we've established that.'

'So logically the only two circumstances where that is no longer needed are firstly if the bond is hopeless and secondly…'

'Yes?'

'Secondly if the necklace has no further work to do…'

'Such as…' Clara pushed for elaboration.

'For want of a better way of putting it, when the couple…' he huffed, 'I can't believe I'm saying this because it's a completely impossible concept made up by writers of fairytales….'

'What?'

'… it's nonsense. It doesn't exist, it's the stuff of lovesick poets and artists.'

'Doctor?'

'It's….'

'True love?' Clara offered, 'If they find true love then the necklace has nothing further to offer them?' she paused and contemplated, 'That makes sense.'

'Don't start Clara, the concept is ridiculous regardless of what you think we feel for one another. We need to find another way.'

Clara stared at him. 'You don't think we can manage it then?'

'What?'

'You don't think we could find true love together?'

'Clara have you lost your mind?' his irritation and discomfort exploded out of him in a vexed little gasp.

Clara pouted a little and looked into the depths of her mug for a moment. 'I just wouldn't write it off so quickly, is all I'm saying.'

The Doctor made a frustrated movement next to her. 'I'm sure if we were meant to achieve true love we would have by now….' He said sarcastically.

'You think? Because you're not so great at letting yourself be in the moment,' Clara said a little sharply, 'My necklace, and me I may add, have had to fight you all the way.'

'And I suppose you've been up front and honest about everything to do with our relationship too, have you?' he sniped back.

'What have I lied about?' she jabbed.

'You let me into your head Clara, you let me see everything, feel everything…'

'Yes and did you see anything there other than how much I care about you? Anything at all?' her anger was building now.

'If you cared so much you would never have…' he stopped himself just short of flinging painful accusations at her and ground his teeth. 'Never mind.'

'No, I do mind! What? What would I never have done?'

The Doctor could feel the bitterness growing in him. He didn't want to say it, he didn't want to hurt her, not when her grief was still fresh, but there was a part of him that just wanted to let rip and tell her just how awful things had been after he had regenerated. How unbearable it was to have her look at him and not see him, to just see his new grey hair and older face. How it had felt seeing her with Danny, how painful, and if she had been so sure she had loved him why would she have done any of that?

Clara glared at him for a second, 'Well?'

'If you have always cared as you claimed to, then why….'

No, no he wouldn't say it.

But then that was his problem wasn't it, not saying things.

Clara shot him an exasperated look before she gave up and sat back into the couch. The moment passed like so many other unspoken moments. Internally the Doctor cursed himself. Both for his petulance and for his complete inability to communicate.

'We've both had our faults, I was just suggesting it wasn't too late to rectify them,' Clara said finally, her voiced drained.

He didn't respond.

'Well if you're not even going to consider it I'd best let you hit the books so you can remove the one thing that seems to be forcing us to confront the truth these days. That should keep you happy, get things back to 'normal.' Find a way to get rid of the necklace so you can go back to burying your head in the sand. I'm going to bed,' and she got up suddenly unaware quite where the outburst of emotion had come from and went through to her room.

He felt like he had been stabbed.

The Doctor sat in stunned silence a moment longer, the warmth from the tea seeping through the mug and into his hands. He looked down at it and read the motif 'World's Best Teacher,' probably a gift from one of her pupils, one of her pupils who could at least show their appreciation towards her on an ordinary level. Here he was having just had his life saved again by a woman who had been willing to sacrifice her entire being, shattering it into a thousand pieces, for him and the best he could do was sulk on her couch annoyed because she'd found herself a normal man who told her he loved her when her two thousand year old alien pal couldn't even bring himself to give her a hug. Was it any wonder she had got fed up waiting? He took another sip of tea. She saved his life, she travelled across space with him, she did the most incredibly brave things on a weekly basis in aid of his particular goals and when she wasn't sacrificing herself she was making him tea, or baking him a soufflé or letting him sleep in her bed… what more did he want? What more proof did he need?

His mind wandered to her lying in her bed now and of how much he wanted to join her.

Then he tried to stop that line of thought and failed pitched once again into conflict with himself. Since the necklace had attached itself so resolutely to Clara he had been forced in turn to attach himself to her too. And she'd accepted, letting him share her space without questioning it, chastising him for stubbornly resisting when he was doubled over in pain and she was the only balm. He hated that the gem made it all so obvious, deep down he'd known for a long time that she was the one thing sure to sooth him whatever his ill might be, but he did not appreciate the necklace making him shout it from the rooftops unwillingly.

Clara was more comfortable with it that was for sure. But then she was human. Humans were always falling for one another and being emotional and expressing it endlessly. It was a bit more difficult for him, he reasoned. Except he knew very well that he had not always been the way he was now, and that love had come easily to him before. Before he changed, before Trenzalore, before a lot of things in his long life. He was running out of excuses. At some point he would just have to admit it to himself. Yes, he loved her, but that didn't mean he was going to…

The Doctor flinched and cursed as the by now familiar pain in his middle stabbed at him reminding him that Clara was in another room and the necklace was probably pretty irritated with his behaviour. Well he was not going to just give in to it again he needed to think. There were huge consequences and repercussions. He had to think about what was best for Clara; that was the whole reason he had upped and left when he thought she had Danny. He wanted her to have the chance of an ordinary life and all that contained. She was still capable of that, if he could just leave her alone.

But he couldn't. He was struggling to do the honourable thing and place her so far out of his reach that she was safe from everything that was associated with him. He even hung around her favourite book shop on cold winter days on the off chance of seeing her, playing games with himself when he could easily just use the TARDIS scanner to locate her. He was pathetic. He leant his head against the back of the couch and cursed under his breath. He wished Clara would come back through and sit with him. He wasn't sure he could face a conversation about feelings but he stilled wished she was next to him on the sofa. He closed his eyes and cursed again, he felt utterly weak. How could one piece of jewellery have such control over him?

The pain stabbed again and he ground his teeth. It was as though it aimed to remind him that it wasn't the necklace that had control, it was the woman wearing it. The Doctor leaned forward and place the empty tea mug on the table and sat motionless looking at it.

Clara seemed to think the 'true love' idea had a shot. She seemed to believe they were capable of it. He snorted. Humans. If only it were that simple. True love was something little girls dreamed of while they played with their dolls, it had no place in the increasingly harsh world he lived in, surely Clara, after everything she had been through would know this by now. But then she always had been the eternal optimist and it always had been that amongst other things that drew him to her.

He dropped his head into his hands and let out a small whimper and the pain crept up inch by inch, notch by notch. It was tapping into his mind now, clouding his thoughts, reaching a point where all he could think of was finding relief from it. True love. What kind of ridiculous fantasy was that? There had to be something more solid to the power the gem seemed to wield over them. There had to be something magnetic or mechanical or…

'Ah!' he couldn't hold back the exclamation of pain this time. It caught him unawares and took the air from him. The damn gem wouldn't even let him consider other options. He glanced towards the bedroom door, ashamed. Ashamed that he felt driven to go to her, that he needed her, that he might have to beg because she was angry but she was also all he had. He berated himself but pushed his body from the couch and staggered over to the doorway where he held himself against the frame to catch his breath.

'If you need to come in, come in,' Clara said coolly from inside and he winced at her tone. He almost turned back but another wave of agony ran through him and he felt his skin turn cold with nausea. The Doctor edged inside the door and let it fall shut behind him.

The room was dark but for the streetlights outside, but his eyes soon adjusted to find her huddled under the covers on her side. She was facing away from him, her back tense.

'Clara,'

'Shut up. I don't know why you have to make this so difficult. I suppose because you are you, I shouldn't expect anything else.'

'I…'

'Shut up,' She reached behind her and yanked the covers back quickly, 'If you want you can get in, or you can sit in the chair like you did the other night, I don't care, I'm past caring.'

'Are you?'

'Yes. I mean… no… I don't want you to be in pain. But I don't want to have to lie here until the small hours talking and figuring it out only to have you say my silly human brain doesn't get how serious it is and how complex and how difficult.'

'Oh,' he took a few tentative steps towards the bed.

'Because for your information,' she went on despite herself, 'I know what love is thank you very much and I thought once you did too,' and she suddenly went very quiet and turned her face deeper into the pillows.

The Doctor hesitated behind her and then slid onto the bed where he sat uncomfortably wishing he could see her face but at the same time worried what he would find there.

'I did,' he said quietly.

'Did what?'

'Know once,' he answered.

'So what's wrong with you now?'

'I thought you didn't want to talk about it?'

'I don't!'

'Well then.'

'But I have to!' She spun towards him under the covers. 'Can't you see how impossible this is? How impossible you're making it?'

'Why do you keep saying that?'

'Because you're the one who won't let it happen!'

'Just because you are more susceptible to the Coupling Stone…'

Clara flung the covers back and jumped to her knees on the bed in front of him 'It has nothing to do with the stone you stupid, stupid man!' She grabbed the necklace and tugged at it angrily, blue sparks flying from it in protest as she did so, 'It has nothing to do with this and everything to do with us! Maybe it opened my eyes a little but only because I let it.'

'Clara we're going round in circles…'

'So stop going round in circles!' she shot back at him, 'Because when you let yourself it's all very different, when you let me hold you and... and kiss you… when we're together and you stop thinking and worrying that you're somehow doing me some injustice… that you're not allowed to do this… then… then… then it works! We work!' she pulled her hands through her hair in frustration. 'Oh why am I bothering? You're centuries old, you're not going to change because I demand it, it doesn't matter anymore what I do or how I try to show you what could be…' she trailed off, her hands coming to rest on her thighs.

The Doctor looked down at his own hands awkwardly and heard Clara shove herself back and get under the covers.

'Just get in,' she said, 'It's late, and we're tired and we're going to end up saying things we don't mean.'

He miserably stripped down to his shirt and trousers and cautiously accepted Clara's invitation, lying behind her on the bed, his mind still racing but determined to let her rest and avoid further spikes of emotion. He was dimly aware of the faint glow of the necklace beginning beside him.

Clara muttered and pulled the cover over the gem, her back to the Doctor, she was determined to ignore its presence tonight and then go full tilt to find a way to remove it tomorrow. She was tired of this to-ing and fro-ing, of getting her hopes up just to have him retreat after every intimate moment they shared. It was destroying her. Well if he couldn't handle it she'd put an end to it and the first step to that was removing the gem. There had to be a way. Well there was a way but the Doctor was stubborn and that way was closed to her so she would just have to bloody well find another way. And she wasn't hurting at all, she refused to hurt, and those were not tears burning behind her closed eyelids, or seeping out to dribble onto the pillow.

She felt the bed dip behind her and the Doctor move closer, presumably because he was still sore or uncomfortable. The light from the necklace brightened and she cursed it again for contributing to her sleeplessness. How was she supposed to rest with it in her eyes like that? She felt wretched and disconnected. Just when she had thought things were going to get better for her. Just when the first sting of grief over Danny had subsided. Just when the Doctor had come back and she had begun to see the possibility of better things returning to her life, this had to happen. This stupid necklace that dug up all these feelings that both of them could have lived with if only they hadn't been made to confront them or deal with them in any way. They could have just kept blithely lying, it had always worked for them before.

Clara sniffed quietly and it was then she felt one of the Doctor's hands slide around her waist and rest on her belly. It wasn't a sexual move but an intimate one. It was comforting not provocative. And it was tender. She wriggled back a touch to find him lying against her and felt his chin come over her shoulder a little as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. Clara covered his hand with her own. 'I'm a bit out of practice…'

She exhaled and allowed herself a half smile. He was trying. 'At what?' she asked. 'Arguing with me?'

'Well that too but that's not what I was meaning…'

'What were you meaning, what are you out of practice at?'

He hesitated, his tone changing, 'Telling someone I love them.'

Clara felt the tears gather in her eyes again at his words. 'Oh,' she said softly, 'Well you've made a start...'

'Yes…' there was a sadness to his voice that made her heart want to break. 'Clara?'

'Mmm?'

'How sure are you?'

'About what?'

'About…' he hunted for the right term, 'About us?' he said simply.

'I'm sure. Even if you aren't, I am.'

He nuzzled into her again hesitating, 'Clara, I'm terrified,' he said softly and she pressed her lips together to choke back her tears, because he was, she could hear it in his voice.

'Why?' she asked.

'Because if we do this, if I let this happen, I'm going to lose you.'

'No, you won't…'

'Yes, I will. Even if you don't reject me tomorrow, I'll lose you one day. You'll tire of space and time, or you'll seek a normal life, or be killed on some faraway planet because we slipped up…

'No…'

'And even if we get through all that, I'll still lose you, because time is cruel and time takes everything and everyone. Except me.'

And Clara felt the first of her tears fall as she listened.

'That's all the more reason not to push me away,' she whispered. 'Tell me…'

She heard him suck in a breath behind her, the shake in it obvious.

'Tell me,' she said again.

She felt the thud of his hearts quicken at her back, 'I… can't,' and the pain in his tone made her own throat ache.

'Show me then…'

There was a pause and then his hand tightened around her waist and he nuzzled gently into her hair. Clara turned in his arms and sought out his eyes in the dim light, the necklace at her throat becoming calm and dark. 'Show me,' she said again. She waited, aware that until now she had made the advances between them at the behest of the necklace, that it had been her taking the lead. She needed this to come from him, for him to want this as much as her and to let himself want it. Her walls were down, his had to be too. Clara saw him swallow, his eyes flickering over her face as if seeking out the best place to begin, before he inhaled a shaky breath and closed the gap between them.

They had kissed before, but it had never felt like this and she wondered if this meant he truly was letting down his barriers as he gathered her in his arms and drank from her. She pressed against the length of his body and wished that just for a moment she could become a part of him long enough for him to realise that she would always be with him. She knew exactly what her heart was telling her and that it would never alter, now she began to feel at last the same sensations spilling over her from him as his kiss became hungrier and he pulled her tighter against him.

The Doctor rolled her slightly so that she was on her back and kissed along her neck. He kissed her cheeks and her eyelids and into her hair, he kissed her temple, her ear, her lips. He buried his nose in her skin and breathed her in. He worshipped her as though starved, as though each tiny kiss provided him with enough sustenance for a year. He felt each inch of her with such gentleness it made tears spring to her eyes as his fingers traced over her shoulder, her arm, lacing between her own. He worked to remove her nightclothes and peppered her breasts with the same tiny kisses, gradually building them into languid motions of his tongue against her skin. Clara moaned and ran her hand through his thick silver hair, letting it curl and tug around her fingers before raking them down over his back. The sensation reminded her that he was still at least partially dressed so she pulled at his shirt, freeing it from his waistband.

He released his kiss for long enough to yank the shirt from his back and then returned to her warm against her skin. Clara let her hands roam over him happily, her gaze feeling clouded and light, her body humming under his touch, she felt as though she was drifting suspended in his arms. When he trailed his kisses back to her lips she shut her eyes and floated on a tide of slow building arousal that she wanted to last forever.

He pulled back and she felt him remove the rest of her night things before the material of his trousers pressed back into her sensitised flesh. Unable to help herself Clara ground up and against where she could feel his erection was resting trapped by cloth. The Doctor gasped and twitched against her and so with her lips tingling with the rhythm of their hard deep kisses she pulled back and looked into his eyes, his pupils blown with desire, as she unfastened his belt and zipper.

At last he was completely hers, his usually cool skin heating under her touch and from the warmth of her own body. He was naked against her, solid and hard, and she ran needy caresses down the length of his chest, trailing her nails over his stomach. She wrapped a hand around him as she had a few days before but this time he did not avert his face but bucked at her touch, his eyes focused on hers. Clara smiled as she felt him push further into her grip and then slowly extract himself, again pushing forward, his breath hitching at the sensation. Clara felt arousal coiling inside her as she watched him take pleasure from her, his uncertainty leaving him. His eyes fluttered shut after a minute and she let him lose himself in her grip, vulnerable and exposed as his body alone guided his movements. When his breath began to come in shallow bursts she eased back, slowing her strokes and shifting beneath him so that he was closer to her body. She allowed the tip of him to brush against where she was wettest and heard the reflexive noise at the back of his throat in response. Clara let go of him and he ground forward against her causing her to whimper needily.

'Clara,' he breathed raggedly in her ear, one arm snaking around to hold her to him as his hips moved involuntarily. He was so close to being inside her now she could feel her whole body tightening in anticipation, longing for him to join with her. She ran her hands down his back and onto his hips, encouraging him.

'Please,' she whispered. He was kissing her neck but moved at the sound of her voice and looked down into her eyes, searching them. Even in the semi-darkness of the room he seemed to find what he was looking for as she looked back at him easily, clearly. 'Please,' she said again.

Time stopped as he watched her and he let the fingers of one hand lightly touch her hair and cheek.

'I do love you, Clara Oswald,' he said and the words pierced into her with such intensity that she felt herself sob. The Doctor smiled gently and continued his soft caress, 'I've loved you so much for so much longer than you'll ever know. I didn't need a necklace to bind myself to you, we were already bound. I think it already knew that.'

Clara felt him move against her and lifted her hips a little to meet him, 'Tell me again,' she said.

'I love you,' he whispered.

'Tell me again,'

'I love you,' and he pushed into her.

'Ah…' she breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with his scent as he filled her body, '…tell me…'

'I love you…'

Clara wrapped her arms around him pulling him as close as she could, conscious but uncaring that the tears now streamed down her cheeks and that he would feel them on his skin. He was really here, he was really telling her. She could feel her body fighting, an odd war between desire and emotion, a release of that sad empty feeling that had been with her for so long, only to be filled utterly with him and with the connection they had denied since they met. Oh God why had they waited, why when something could feel so whole and so perfect, why would anyone wait? Clara's breathing was stuttering, half sob, half the short pant of arousal and she tried to regain control only to fail. But then he placed his lips on hers and opened his mind and suddenly the choking tears relented and she felt nothing but the security of his arms, and his body and his being, saw nothing but what he was showing her now, what he had carried within him for centuries.

'I love you,' he said again.

Soulbound. She understood it now. The swirling blues and browns of the jewel at her throat. The living mixture of the two of them, the perfect balance in its private world, in their world. One couldn't be without the other, and once mixed, once bound, could never come apart.

Clara felt him quickening his pace and heard him mumble softly against her neck, strained words of desire and need. He took her with him, she arching up into his body, driving him deeper, pulling back in long strokes and then encouraging him to push shallowly, rapidly, grinding against her. She heard her own voice before she realised that she was speaking, calling his name. They were climbing together, joined, driven, desperate, but unwilling to leave one another behind. But there would be no separating them now, they were absolutely one. The Doctor growled against her and she heard and felt it rumble in his chest. He drove into her harder and she saw the pulse of climax begin to build in his mind, felt it tighten in his body. Like a thousand fine spun threads of gold their consciousness' reached for each other and wove a design that was theirs alone until Clara could no longer tell where he ended and she began. She was tipping, tipping into a level of pleasure that frightened and thrilled her in equal measure. Her body was trembling and she felt she might break, it was too intense, too powerful, she couldn't breathe, her heart hammering against him. It was too much, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe…

'Clara!' the Doctor's grip on her hip tightened, he slammed into her and suddenly she inhaled, gasping, before the scream tore from her lungs and her body burned with release. She felt him empty himself into her, his own shout muffled by her neck, and threw back her head as the power of her orgasm took control of each muscle and breath. She was dimly aware of him kissing her softly as she slowly spun back down to him, the intense pleasure subsiding and being replaced by the security of his embrace. Clara moved instinctively so that she was cradled in his arms and placed her head on his chest. The double beat of his hearts was the last thing she remembered.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was snowing. A little late for Christmas, she thought, but she preferred it to the sleet of the last week or so. Clara peeked between the curtains of her bedroom window as the daylight tried its best to forge its way through the heavy flakes falling from the sky. Outside a thick blanket already lay over the street and as yet it was too early during this holiday time for anyone to be up and about shovelling and disturbing it.

Even the Doctor wasn't awake. Clara cast a glance back to the bed where he lay on his side, quite unconscious and apparently quite content. She'd seen him sleep before now, but never with that little smile on his lips, just the faintest smile on a face that until recently had always been dark with worry of one form or another. The weight of the world. Or of the Universe more accurately. Her own lips twitched. There he was, sleeping, in her bed. He looked like it was the first time in centuries he had truly rested. Knowing him it probably was.

At her throat the necklace hummed. She had almost forgotten about it and now it was glowing again. It had been totally dark and still since before they made love but she'd half expected it to dramatically disintegrate or explode last night as she was pretty sure what they had experienced was as close to an expression of true love as anyone could hope to get. But maybe the Doctor had been right and concepts like that were just the stuff of fairytales. Well she could live with it. It was just a necklace and it wasn't hideous, she'd grown to quite like its shape and colours and now she had a sense of its meaning too. It represented something, it represented them and their unique blend of qualities. She giggled. Clara Oswald, romanticising an alien necklace that she was now stuck with for life because the Doctor, her two thousand year old boyfriend, had taken her Christmas shopping on another planet.

She stopped. Boyfriend. Could she really call him that? Boyfriend didn't quite feel right. Clara chewed on a nail and watched the snow fall some more. What did one call Time Lords in relationships?

A soft noise from behind her and she turned to find him waking. She grinned and bounced over to the bed, crawling across to where he was slowly coming to, running one hand through his decidedly mussed up hair.

'Hello,' she said, the smile on her face getting wider.

He peered at her still slightly sleep ridden, 'Hello,' he said a little warily.

'So… it's morning,' Clara chirruped, 'And guess what… it's snowing!'

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, 'And this is exciting because?'

'Snow is romantic,' she explained.

'Right, romantic,' he heaved himself into a sitting position and then slumped against the pillows, 'It's also cold, and melty.'

'We could go for a walk!' Clara suggested, 'After breakfast, obviously I'll cook breakfast first, and then we've all day to do things.'

'Right… things… ' he glanced at the glowing necklace, 'Oh Gods, it's at it again!'

'It's OK, I don't think it's doing much,' Clara said holding it between her fingers, 'It's just glowing, I mean you don't look like you're in pain, I don't feel like I'm in a trance.'

The Doctor eyed it suspiciously. 'It just makes me nervous,' he commented, 'I don't trust its motives.'

'Its motives are pure,' Clara poked him, 'Its motives are true love, remember.'

The Doctor rolled his eyes, 'How could I forget.'

Clara hopped next to him and climbed back under the covers suddenly aware she was chilly. She couldn't help but laugh when he squeaked in protest.

'Ah! You're freezing, how long have you been up for?'

'Oh a while…'

'Doing what?'

'Watching you sleep mainly.'

He stared at her. 'Why?'

'Because you looked happy,' she said simply, cuddling into him, 'And because I can…'

The Doctor slipped his arm around her and pulled her close under the duvet, rubbing her arm to warm her. 'That's a little bit creepy but… OK. Come here,' she wriggled against him, 'You're still too cold.'

'Doctor?'

'Yes?'

'Are you initiating a hug?'

He froze, his hand mid rub on her arm. 'Um…'

'You are aren't you?' Clara turned her face up to look at him, 'You are hugging me, without protest, actually no, you are snuggling.'

'I am not snuggling,' he said peevishly.

'Are so!' the triumph laced her voice, 'And I also wonder….' She adjusted her position a little.

'What?' the Doctor looked slightly alarmed.

'If… you… are…. Ticklish!' and she made a dive for his ribs. Clara burst out laughing as the Doctor let out an irritated squeal but then quickly regretted her actions as he spun her over and pinned her to the bed.

'You are going to regret that,' he said.

'Am I?'

'Yes,' he attempted to look serious but failed miserably, the smile breaking forth in spite of himself. Clara beamed up at him.

'Do you know what?' she said looking into his eyes.

'What?'

Clara cocked her head slightly and let her gaze roam over his face, his new, suddenly relaxed, wonderful, handsome face. 'You and I, are going to be so good,' she said, and he smiled that shy smile she loved so much.

The necklace slipped from her throat and landed on the bed with a soft thud, its clasp finally released.

Both of them looked down at it and then back at each other, Clara's smile turning slightly smug and the Doctor wearing a resigned expression, knowing what was coming next. Before she could say I told you so he placed a finger over her lips.

'Not a word about true love,' he warned as she tried to protest, 'Not… one… word…' And he won her silence with his kiss.