'You're freezing,'

'I'm not.'

'I can hear your teeth chattering.'

'No you can't.'

'I can…'

'Time Lords' teeth don't chatter. We have better control over our musculature than that. It's the wind.'

'The wind.'

'Yes.'

'In here?'

'Yes.'

'Doctor were in a cold-room… A giant fridge… There's no wind…'

'Outside…'

'Oh why do I bother,' a clunk and a shuffle, 'get over here.'

'Clara…'

'Stop being stubborn and get over here. You're freezing. You gave me your coat and now your teeth are clattering together like caster nets. Come and warm up.'

She could just make out his profile by the door, pale light coming from the tiny window catching is jaw as it juddered in the cold. Time was ticking by slowly but even so Clara thought they must have been there for at least half an hour, the temperature a steady -10 degrees according to the sonic, and an alien security creature pacing outside on watch. A casual trip to the market at the end of the trading day had somehow turned into another mad dash through stalls, upturning baskets and goods, pushing over tradesmen and annoying the butcher sufficiently to take after them wielding one of his knives. He lost them eventually, the Doctor, pulling Clara to safety with one arm had propelled her through the nearest likely looking doorway to safety. Unfortunately that safety was in fact the butcher's walk in freezer and it had an automatic timer, locking from the end of the day until morning when he would come and release them. And possibly chop them into bits for interfering with his stock.

Typical, had been her first response, but she was sure it would be a fairly easy set of circumstances for them to get out of. How hard could it be for a pair of seasoned adventurers like them? Apparently quite hard.

'Can't you sonic it open, it's just a lock.'

Clara heard him roll his eyes.

'Clearly if it was just a lock I'd have done that by now,' the sonic buzzed on and cast green light up over his face. Clara noted that the strobe effect was shaking just like his hands. 'It's trickier than it first looks, it has all sorts of security things,' he explained patiently, 'and the settings on the sonic are playing up.'

'The settings…because of the cold?'

'Mmm,' he said non-commitally.

'Not your fingers… Not your fingers playing up because they are freezing.'

He turned the sonic light off petulantly. 'No,' he said tritely.

'Ok.'

Clara stopped arguing and sat back against a cardboard box of who knew what. She refused to think about the contents of the room they were in and thankfully it was almost pitch dark, but she was aware of body shaped things dangling from hooks above and a crunch under her feet of forming ice. She shuddered and drew the Doctor's luxuriously warm jacket around her shoulders tight. Her own fingers were sore with frost but the rest of her wasn't doing too badly considering. She'd worn her furry boots and jumper for the trip. No, Clara was more worried by the ever stubborn Doctor having insisted on her taking his coat had been dressed only in trousers and sweater. And that had holes in it.

She heard him sneeze, debated pleading with him again, if he warmed his hands, if he warmed his sonic, he'd probably be able to crack the door code and then everyone would be happier, but he appeared to have gone into his 'too proud to take advice' moods which meant it was going to be a long night. Clara listened to some crunching from the doorway and squinted into the dark to watch his thin figure shift its weight back and forth in a vain attempt to generate heat.

'Doctor… Superior physiology or not you are cold.'

'Yes well… Perhaps this regeneration is a bit more susceptible to it than before…' He grumbled and sniffed, wiped his nose with the end of a sleeve pulled down over his hand. Clara stood and walked forward purposefully, stopping inches from his chest and opening her arms. He looked down at her stiffly with suspicion.

'Hug,' she said, 'hug now, warm up,' she grabbed his hands, one in each of hers, 'they're like ice!' She exclaimed, 'how can you feel anything?' The doctor gurned and flapped ineffectively as she guided his hands under her jacket, plonking them either side of her ribs. Clara shivered.

'Now you're cold!' He said triumphantly trying to withdraw his hands.

'Shut up.' She pushed closer to him and buried herself against his sweater, rocked her body back and forth across him, her chest level with his belly, one of her palms placed on each side of it rubbing around him and then up and down his back. She turned her cheek against his chest and nuzzled him while he stood stiffly trying to ignore the invasion of his personal space during clearly defined adventuring time.

The Doctor had lectured her sternly only last week about trying to distract him with things when caught up in something unexpected. Kissing and such like was banned. But instead of acquiescing she had taken it as a challenge and was now determined to use it as an excuse to invade his personal space even more. He protested of course, but she could feel his cold fingers creeping deeper under her jacket and something melt in his stance. His arms laced around her and held her, pulling her closer until finally he rested his head on top of hers and pushed the tip of his cold nose into her hair. Clara yelped.

'Nose… So cold!'

'Smmmuurry,' he apologised, muffled by her hair. Clara responded by shoving one of his legs out of the way and sandwiching her own between his. She yanked him closer.

'Clara this is a bit…' he tried.

'Shut up I'm getting warm. You're getting warm. The sonic is getting warm. This is entirely necessary. Now take your jacket back, I've got my own under here it's not fair of me to have two…'

'But…' Even as he protested he shivered convulsively against her body.

'You can't tell but I'm glaring at you,' she said into his breastbone. There was a hesitation and then shaky fingers ran up her back to the shoulders of his coat and removed it, slinging it back over his body and resuming his hold on her. If anything he was pressing her more firmly into his torso and pelvis. He was surprisingly comfortable for a skinny stick and surprisingly firm.

Clara's eyes opened and a slight but wicked grin appeared. She shifted against him.

Huh.

Firm and kind of… Warm but mainly…. Firm. She glanced down and pursed her lips. Not the sonic, it had been replaced in his jacket seconds before.

'Comfortable?' She asked innocently. The Doctor shifted and cleared his throat.

'Perfectly thank you. In fact… Much warmer… So um…'

She peered up at him in the dark, watched a plume of breath whisper from between his lips.

'I'll try the door again,' he said quietly.

'Right.' She held his gaze best she could in the gloom and heard him swallow. Clara let her hands skitter down his back, drop to his hips and slowly spread her fingers over the curve of his backside.

The firm part of him twitched against her.

'Doctor…'

He looked away sharply his teeth worrying at his lower lip but his hands still quite securely holding her to him. He was the picture of a man whose body was at war with his mind. There was only one thing to do when faced with such a sight. Clara squeezed his bum with one hand.

'Clara!' He cried outraged.

She burst into giggles, 'Oh come on like you haven't thought about it recently?' She teased, 'seriously after what we did at that perpetual New Year's party?'

'We were inebriated…'

'That just loosened us up. It was a lot of fun. We were a lot of fun!'

She massaged the muscles of his behind with both hands and cocked her head at him, her best appealing expression in place. 'We could do it again…' She coaxed. She thought she saw his lips quirk for a second.

'I still don't think this is the most appropriate…' he started.

Clara wound her fingers through his hair suddenly and pulled him down to her level, her lips suddenly hot against his in the cold of the room. The doctor grunted at the difference in temperature before she opened her mouth to him and he finally relented, lifting her bodily to perch on a bench to one side, careful to protect her from as much of the cold surface as possible as she wrapped her legs around his waist and dropped one hand to fondle the heat in his trousers.

'Clara this has to be the least romantic setting…'

'I don't care… I need warming up… So warm me…' She mumbled as her lips tracked over his neck.

'Shouldn't we at least see if the door will open now,' he argued and then yelped as Clara's cold hands plunged straight under his sweater and up over his chest. She rubbed hard at his nipples briefly and then drew her nails roughly over his ribs. 'Ouch!'

'Want you,' she said, her voice slightly hoarse from the cold, 'Have to have you.'

'Clara!'

'Right now,' she captured his mouth again and plundered it sloppily, grinding her hips up against him as he supported her on the bench. She could feel that he was fully erect now and the thought filled her with nerves and excitement. The New Year's party was a blur of alcohol related debauchery but she did recall her amazement when she finally got his clothes off. Clara stopped raking his chest and dropped her hands to his belt.

'Mmmph,' the Doctor pulled away from the kiss, 'Clara, slow down.'

She tugged the catch open, 'Can't,' she said squinting down into the darkness to see what she was doing. The Doctor batted her hands away.

'Clara its freezing in here you can't just drop my…' there was a clank as the belt and the trousers hit the floor. 'Gods,' he yelped, 'so cold!'

'I'll make it better,' she said pushing herself off the bench.

The Doctor was already struggling to pull up his trousers when Clara suddenly landed on the floor beside him on her knees, her own thicker clothing protecting her a little from the frost. She took the belt of the trousers from him and tugged up enough to cover any exposed areas leaving his manhood vulnerable in the freezing air.

'Clara for goodness sake!' he snapped and wrestled her for control of the top of his trousers. 'It's well below zero in here, I don't want frostbite. What in the heavens do you think you're…' he let out a high pitched noise as she closed her hot mouth around him.

There was relative silence for a moment as Clara slowly sucked down the length of him. She pressed her tongue along the sensitive underside and let it work its own rhythm as her lips pressed and relaxed against his length. After a few moments of holding his breath the Doctor let out a low groan of desire and she knew she had him trapped. With that goal in the bag Clara mixed up her technique further, sped up and slowed, sucked harder and teased him with the smallest strokes of her fingers and lips. She could feel him pressing further against her and the automatic twitches in his hips when she hit a particular spot. She listened for his breathing as it turned to light pants and felt the heat between her own legs respond to the sounds he was making. After a few minutes she could taste him close and leaking into her mouth and he tangled his hands into her hair.

Clara stopped and sat back on her heels.

'Clara, please,' he breathed from above her and she smirked to herself in the gloom.

'Feeling a bit… needy?' she questioned playfully. She ran her hand up his thigh and then lightly over his straining erection. She rubbed the tip in circles with her thumb. She was rewarded with grunt and sharp intake of breath as he tried to control himself. 'That's ok,' she said, 'I feel a bit like that myself.'

Clara stood and backed herself against the bench again, began to undo her clothing, practical for trips out but not so much so for impromptu sex in fridges. All the time the Doctor pressed against her, holding her, kissing her neck, making that low moan she had recently begun to love.

'Please don't stop,' he was saying, apparently over his distaste for invasion of personal space. He took one of her hands and placed it over his cock encouraging her to continue the rhythm she had begun. Clara giggled and stroked him a few times before breaking off.

'I'm wearing leggings and boots I need both hands,' she hopped as she disrobed to demonstrate her predicament. 'If you're worried about frostbite I suggest you keep yourself warm for a minute,' she teased.

She could almost feel him pout at the injustice. After all this had been her idea and now he was being asked to entertain himself. Being the Doctor of course he rose to the challenge. Clara had rid herself of her leggings and replaced her boots when she turned to find the shadowed figure of the Doctor leaning up against some boxed supplies. She could see little of his face except for his lips, slightly parted, and his breath escaping in puffs around him. What she could see however was that he'd taken her comment quite literally and was using both hands to surround and stimulate himself; one quickly stroking his shaft while the other stroked his lower belly and dipped between his legs.

The longer she watched, wide eyed, the more she could see him quickening his pace. She could hear his breathing becoming ragged and the odd strained noise escaped his throat. He pressed hard back against the boxes and braced his legs as his hips began to add to the stimulation, bucking unconsciously. Clara felt a surge of arousal race towards her core and wetness spread suddenly through her folds as she bit her lip and watched. She had the urge to see him reach his conclusion, to continue doing exactly what he was doing now, confidently and without any apparent inhibition. This was all so different from the New Years Party where they had fumbled drunkenly with one another. Now there was the slightest sense he was showing off for her, wanting to drive her crazy, and she wanted to see him come, hear the noise he made. He was getting close, and she could feel the ache at her centre pulse insistently at the sight of what was happening. The Doctor dropped his head suddenly, eyes shut and groaned open mouthed with each stroke of his hand. He was right on the edge.

Clara reached out and grabbed him stopping him mid stroke and he swore slightly before looking up at her. She bit her lip and slowly took the hand he had been using to simulate himself and placed it between her wet folds. There was no question of being too cold or vulnerable now, she felt like she was on fire and his hand was warm, slipping over her swollen flesh, dipping and teasing. Clara breathed in shallowly and held her breath as he explored with his fingertips until finally he was penetrating her and she ground instinctively down on them. It was so good.

The Doctor quickly removed his hand and guided her back against the bench she had abandoned earlier, hoisting her so that she was balanced between him and the wall and protected from most of the cold. He kissed her solidly then, rotating his hips against her needily until she reached down for him, so very hard now, so near to release that he made a small strangled noise as she positioned him and gave him entry.

Clara had the sense that neither of them was going to last. The Doctors hips were thrusting deep already and she clung to him hard, lifting herself in his arms as he took her before guiding herself firmly back down. He was panting with effort and arousal and lose to peaking as they moved when he spoke roughly in her ear, his voice punctuated by his thrusts.

'Touch yourself,' he said, 'The way you made me do for you,'

Clara leaned back a little to create room between them. She kept one arm on his shoulder for balance but with the other reached down and began to rub neat familiar circles over her clitoris. She could immediately feel her muscles tense and his response to that and when she looked up she found he was watching her work as he moved in and out of her body. After a few more moments he was unable to contain himself further, crushing his lips against her and redoubling the efforts of his hips, pumping into her hard and fast. Clara felt a sudden coil of feeling rising and threatening to wash over her too quickly but it seemed he was in league as he juddered against her slipping out of rhythm.

'Clara…' he was holding her tighter now, kissing urgently across her jaw and neck, repeating her name over and over. She could feel her conclusion coming, racing across nerves and skin, down towards the centre of her, panting so hard her hands tingled and rubbing herself desperately against him as her fingers still worked at her core. And then she heard him, a punch of a yell as he stiffened, paused his pumping and then resumed his frantic movement to send her over the edge at last, her whole body convulsing as she loudly said his name over and over.

The Doctor held her tightly for several minutes and Clara buried her face against his sweater. She could happily have stayed there all night if it wasn't for one problem.

'Clara…'

'Hmmm?'

'Clara?'

'What?'

'It's cold.'

Clara laughed against his shoulder. 'Oh so you admit it now do you Mr Time Lord, it's cold.'

'Well it is,' he said stepping reluctantly away from her and tidying up his clothing. He fumbled around in one of his pockets until he retrieved the sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the locked door which had led to the whole situation in the first place.

'Has it warmed up enough?' Clara asked pulling on her abandoned leggings.

The Doctor pointed at the lock and they both heard it spring happily open.

'What? Oh the screwdriver? Advanced technology Clara,' he opened the door and bid her leave the cold room. 'It's not effected by low temperatures.'

Clara opened her mouth for a moment. 'You mean, this whole time it would have….'

The Doctor gave her an innocent look. 'Where's your spirit of adventure?' he said.