Rivals

Author Note: This fic is AU and pairs 12/Clara.

Summary:

After a potent love drug is introduced to the atmosphere at a party held at the house of Madame Vastra, the Doctor wakes up next to Clara but recalls nothing of the passion she remembers - all he recalls is a horrible nightmare about trying to fight off Missy...

After the party, conversation is awkward between the Doctor and Clara - as he considers that perhaps he ought to have made their first attempt at closeness so much more meaningful. They decide to leave the subject alone, but both Clara and the Doctor have strange flashbacks,making each silently wonder what really happened that night.

Then a few weeks later, after becoming separated from the Doctor, Clara has a mysterious blackout and can remember nothing of why - knowing only that Missy has mysteriously found her, and is keen to reunite her with the Doctor, and on seeing him again, Missy seems very keen that they draw a line under the past and part on good terms...

While the Doctor cautiously welcomes the chance to shake hands and agree to peace with his long time enemy, Clara wonders why Missy is so desperate to win the Doctor's trust. But she is yet to learn the truth:

Missy has done something truly wicked, and could possibly destroy her own life and sanity because of her selfish actions...

Rated T

Warnings: Just a few. Some adult situations and themes. Emotive story line regarding unplanned pregnancy.

Disclaimer:I own nothing but my love of the fandom.

Chapter 1

'There's a stranger in my bed,
There's a pounding in my head
Glitter all over the room
Pink flamingos in the pool
I smell like a mini bar
DJs passed out in the yard
Barbie's on the barbecue
Is this a hickey or a bruise...?'

~ Last Friday Night, Katy Perry

Clara Oswald woke up with a headache. As she looked up at the ceiling of the bedroom and then looked around the Victorian room, she recalled where she was.

Oh yes.

The Doctor had taken her to a party at the home of Madame Vastra.

It had started off as a very civilised affair, and she had been sitting on the sofa in the front room and the Doctor had been talking to her and suddenly...

What had happened?

It was coming back to her, but only in pieces:

The house had been full of guests, all human, all from the Victorian era that Vastra so loved. Jenny had been serving drinks to guests, and Clara had seen Vastra exchange a look of love with her as her wife smiled, and thoughts of her own love began to trouble her as she had looked to the Doctor and wondered if tonight she ought to dare to tell him how she really felt about him.

It had seemed like a good time to make that move, until the Doctor had said something about perhaps they ought to take another train ride together, and hastily added, not that Orient express, not again it would hardly be romantic - and she had laughed, and then coughed, and the room and turned a shade of purple...

Clara had brought her hand up to her throat and glanced down at her Victorian attire as she wondered if perhaps it had been a bad idea to wear a tight corset beneath the gown - but when she had put it on she had imagined later, the possibility of the Doctor freeing her from it and then his hands straying over her body...She was still thinking it as she coughed again and looked at him, partly wondering why she was choking in a purple mist, and partly wondering how the hell she could feel so aroused at a time like this...

"I can't breathe properly..." she had said, and coughed again.

The Doctor had sat up straight on the seat and looked around, he coughed a couple of times and then had no more trouble with the haze in the air.

"It can't be..." he said, looking around and taking in the sight of people kissing, touching, fondling, already a couple were on the floor beside a window, partly covered in the long drapes that hung there as they rolled on the floor together. This party was rapidly turning into an orgy.

"Someone's put some Zastrara gas into the atmosphere..."

"What is it?"

Clara had to ask him twice as the Doctors gaze momentarily fixed on the sight of Vastra's long tongue flickering up Jenny's neck as she leant against the open doorway and laughed, then pulled her lizard wife closer for a kiss.

"It's a love drug," the Doctor replied as he looked from the sight of sex everywhere and focussed on Clara, "It's banned on many planets...all it takes is a small canister released into the air and, well... this happens..."

"I think I feel okay now," Clara had said, blinking as the world seemed to move in slow motion and the feeling was seductively nice.

"Stay here," the Doctor had told her, "I need to find out who did this..."

Clara had looked up at him as he rose from his seat and smiled, feeling drunk and warm and hazy.

"It's not such a bad thing," she murmured, "Do you know I love you?"

The Doctor had looked at her in surprise, and then she had seen a soft expression in his eyes.

"I feel the same," he had said,"But not here,not now. Not like this. I won't be gone long."

And she had blinked:

The Doctor had left the room.

People were kissing and touching and some were half undressed. And she was slipping into a sleep, and she thought of the Doctor again and then smiled as she closed her eyes.

Next thing she recalled was opening her eyes again and getting up, then stepping over people on the floor, trying not to notice many were naked, trying not to think about it because she wanted the Doctor...

She wanted him so badly.

It was as if the drug had switched her on and all it would take was one touch from him, and she would explode with need...

Her head had felt heavy and dizzy as she headed for the stairs.

Then they had collided.

He had said something about how she ought to be sleeping upstairs away from the harmful substance in the air, because she was coughing again, a clear sign the gas was irritating her lungs.

He had taken her hand and helped her up the stairs.

And Clara was could not recall much else:

Struggling with him as he led her to her door.

He had tried to be a gentleman.

But she had insisted.

She had told him exactly what she wanted.

Clara recalled gripping on to his jacket tightly as she buried her face against it:

"Do it, take me!"

She had really said that, she had really begged him, and he had obliged...

Clara couldn't recall what happened right after that.

She remembered getting up again, alone, crossing the hallway and colliding with a woman, who had looked at her with interest.

"Having fun, are we?" she had said, and Clara had blinked, seen the face of Missy, given a gasp, stumbled backwards, and through an open bedroom doorway. Then she had got on to the bed, and closed her eyes,wondering why everything was so confusing and strange.

She wasn't sure exactly when the Doctor had put his arms around her, but then she had turned around and pressed her face against his chest, run her hands over it, and the thought had run through her mind, she had wondered why he smelled different now – not like the scent he had given off when they had made passionate love...or had it just been rough sex?

She didn't know or care, because then sleep had claimed her again...

It was all too confusing.

Clara thought about the sequence of events again:

The room turning purple.

The party becoming an orgy.

The Doctor leaving her.

Going upstairs, bumping into him again...

Sex.

Then wandering in a daze, encountering Missy...

Had that really been Missy?

Did this stuff cause hallucinations?

That part had to be a bad trip...

Clara still felt slightly dizzy from the gas even though it was morning and the air had cleared. And as she turned over she breathed a relieved sigh to see she had definitely found the Doctor last night...He was still beside her, and as he shifted nearer to her, put his arm around her and then pulled her closer, he opened his eyes. Then a look a of alarm registered on his face, and he stared at her.

"That really happened?"

"Yes," Clara replied, "It did."

And he hesitated for a moment, thinking on his vague recollections of the night before.

"I remember you told me you loved me," he said quietly, "And I really didn't want to move things along so fast. Not like this. Who ever used that gas last night is in a lot of trouble with me."

And he let go of her, and Clara barely had time to enjoy the sight of his naked body before he turned his back on her, sat on the edge of the bed and hastily reached for his clothing.

"What do you remember about last night?" Clara asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he rushed to put his clothes back on.

Clara was barely covered by the bed sheet and he longed to reach for her - but those thoughts had to wait. This was not the way he would have planned their first time, not under the influence of an alien street drug...

"I recall very little," he told her, and then he continued to dress, with his back to her as he thought about a night that seemed to consist of tripped out fragments, images that he could barely put back together- and the memories he did recall, he wanted to forget - because none of it was good...

"Maybe I should come with you -"

"No," the Doctor said as he stood poised to open the bedroom door, his gaze lingering on the sight of Clara so obviously naked beneath the sheets, and then he tore his gaze away from her body and focussed on her eyes.

Clearly for her, the drug had caused a hangover. For him there was no such problem - just a poor recollection of the evening, which was common after being exposed to the gas, but she was human and needed to rest, and that was just fine with him, because he was troubled by thoughts he couldn't speak of aloud, let alone share with Clara...

Why not?" Clara asked him, "Something happened last night - someone spiked the party with a sex drug and turned it into an orgy. You said it was an alien gas. All her guests were human, right? So it wasn't a genuine guest. I wonder who crashed the party?"

"I don't know," he told her, "But I'm okay now - and you look awful. Go back to sleep, Clara. I need to speak with Madame Vastra."

Clara gave a sigh and flopped back down looking irritated by his words, but as soon as her head hit the pillow she was glad to be there, he saw it in her eyes.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, and then the Doctor left her to sleep.

As he closed the bedroom door the doctor breathed a heavy sigh, feeling glad to be away from Clara and her questions, because he had enough of his own that needed answers. Then he took a walk down the upper hallway, paused to look over the balcony as he heard Vastra sharply order Strax to throw out some lingering guests, and then he passed a doorway to another bedroom - it was a guest room much like the one he had woken up in with Clara, but as he lingered in the open doorway, he looked to the messed up sheets and then he recalled he had entered this room the night before...and he had not been alone...

The Doctor went into the bedroom, stood there for a moment and then walked over to a mirror that stood on the dresser. He leant on the dresser as he studied the room reflected behind him, and then in the blink of an eye it flooded his mind all over again, a rapid chain of events:

The room had turned purple.

Clara was almost knocked out by the potency of the gas. There were a few more people affected as she was, but others were already pairing off and having sex on the floor. He had left her, taken a look outside, but seen no sign of anything or anyone suspicious.

Then when he had seen Vastra and Jenny groping on the stairway before Vastra had taken the hand of her wife and led her off to bed, the Doctor had decided it was time to find Clara and get out, get her back to the Tardis - because he was getting high too now, and he didn't want to be high, not like this, not on the night she had told him she loved him.

And he wanted to find her, but instead, he had found...

There it was, the memory was sharp now and he couldn't change it...In that moment he knew the rest of his recollections had been no drug induced nightmare. The Doctor looked into the mirror, deep into his own eyes as he recalled who had stood at the top of the stairway and beckoned to him...

Now his pale blue gaze blazed with fury.

"Missy!" he said in anger.

While Clara slept off the last of the effects of the gas, the Doctor stood in the downstairs hallway, saying nothing as Madame Vastra angrily spoke of her humiliation.

"My home was turned into some kind of depraved...brothel!" she exclaimed, "I want the person responsible found!"

"We found this," Jenny added, handing an empty gas canister to the Doctor.

He thanked her for it, held it in his hand and studied it.

"I found another near the front door," he replied, and then as Vastra and Jenny angrily spoke of the terrible shock of what had happened, the Doctor was feeling a shock of his own:

Missy had taken him to that bedroom last night. She had told him she would explain everything, but then he fell back on to the bed and she was on top of him, she forced a kiss on him and as her hands wandered, he could no longer fight the effects of the gas.

He had tried.

But the way she tugged at his clothing and ran her hands over his exposed flesh aroused him instantly, and then as she playfully pinned him down and demanded he give in to her, all her words did was add to arousal he couldn't control, and suddenly, he had wanted it to happen...

Yet he had also wanted to fight it...

Had Missy had seduced him?

All he could recall was that he had turned his face away as she tried to kiss him again.

"Get out!" he had said bitterly...

And she had left.

And he felt used...

"Doctor," said Vastra, "I asked you a question?"

The Doctor drew in a deep breath, breathing out slowly as he fought off a wave of nausea and wondered if it was down to the gas or the fact that Missy had drugged him for a purpose that was only too clear.

"Who ever did this is long gone by now," he said dismissively as he hid the truth, "And at least the majority of your human guests won't recall much of what happened last night – some will dismiss it as a dream, others will be too ashamed to speak of it openly – remember this is Victorian England. That much goes in favour of saving your reputation. I'm sorry I couldn't find the culprit last night. I should go and check on Clara, we should be leaving soon."

He turned for the stairs.

"Doctor?"

As he glanced back, Vastra looked at him apologetically.

"This will never happen again," she assured him, "I shall put security measures in place in future. I can only apologise."

"This wasn't your fault," he assured her, and then he went back up the stairs, his mind a swirl of confusion as he wondered how to handle the situation he was faced with :

Clara had told him that she loved him.

If the circumstances had been better, this ought to be the start of a new and happy chapter in both their lives. But he barely recalled what had happened last night:

Had he slept with Missy?

Had he slept with the woman who had been his lifelong enemy?

There could never have been a time when he would have found her attractive or arousing, or wanted to form a close friendship with her, let alone allow for intimacy to happen.

He knew he could have easily fought her off.

But the drug had got to him and he had to assume he had given into that influence. How could he look Clara in the eye and tell her he loved her too, after what had just happened with Missy?

Maybe she would understand, but it wasn't something he planned on talking about. It was a subject he wanted to leave alone, to move on from, to forget about. And he knew it would be a while before he would be able to get close to Clara, to talk of love, and to move their friendship closer and turn it into a relationship.

All he wanted to do now was leave, take Clara with him and pretend last night had never happened. He would never speak of it and he hoped in time, perhaps he might even be able to forget - at least enough to feel like he hadn't cheated on Clara on the night Vastra's party had been hijacked...

And so the Doctor and Clara departed in the Tardis.

But neither could talk about the party, because they both knew something was very wrong, and the memories were yet to fall into place...