A/N: This is my first fanfic ever… Reviews are very welcome as is constructive criticism. I've always had a lot of ideas for stories but I can never seem to get them written down.

Disclaimer: The only part of Doctor Who I own is my unabashed love of it. The rest belongs to the BBC and company.

More than Modesty

My name is Clara Oswald and I don't know where I am.

No, it is not a Bank Holiday at Blackpool beach, and no, I am not stranded on a far flung planet where the dogs have no noses (that was last week) and no, the grumpy old cow known as the TARDIS has not decided to spin a maze around me while I look for the library in here.

Nope, there is nothing grand about my situation even if I am lost in something which for me is completely out of this world. What I am currently trying to find my way out of is more layers of clothing than I can count. I can't seem to find a way to get my head back out into the light.

Honestly, why the Doctor suddenly became so keen on going to Victorian London I can't say, but then he's the Doctor. One minute he will be on about a banana grove someplace I think is called Villenguard, the next it is all about how quaint the streets of London are in 1893. He seems to think if he keeps talking, keeps moving and keeps smiling I will either forget or simply not notice the moments that he looks at me like I am going to vanish into thin air, or when he looks like the loneliest man in all of creation.

Far from making me not see those moments though, the contrast highlights them. Despite the giddy running, and the dancing, and the bowties, I will never forget those other moments, when his eyes show how old he is, and more importantly how scared he is. Why he seems to fear me, or fear that I will vanish, or fears something to do with me I can't say. Perhaps connecting his fear to me somehow is egotistical but it always seems to show when he is looking at me or talking to me. I don't think I miss much. Speaking of vanishing, that looks like the way through the top of this skirt…

Okay Clara, we are back into the world of the living and breathing easy… Well I say easy, when easier would probably be more accurate. I'm still wearing umpteen layers and a corset. Now that my head has nothing draped over top of it though, I can very clearly hear the sound of a massive explosion echoing from somewhere else in the TARDIS.

Okay, so the Doctor usually tinkers with the cow box and little zaps, clangs, sparks etcetera are not uncommon, but that sounded bad. Really bad… Nanny instinct tells me to run to the possibly wounded child first and ask questions later.

Yes I just called the Doctor a child.

Some moments he is most definitely a thousand year old God like being, terrifying and glorious all at the same time, others he is more like a cosmic five year old who might trip over his own laces. As I open the door to run to his rescue, I remember something…

All I am wearing are my underwear, or rather undergarments. One part of me reminds myself that these are Victorian, meaning more coverage than what many people ever have in my day even when fully dressed. Another part of my mind reminds me that I am running to (potentially save) the Doctor. The man who is more easily scandalized than probably anyone else I have ever met. Smoke starts to float down the corridor however, which ends this internal debate.

I can deal with him being scandalized. Quite frankly he is funny when he looks at me incredulously after I say or do something that makes him blush. I like to make him look like that, he is never sad when he is blushing. What I can't deal with is if anything were to happen to him. So I dash down the corridor, following the trail of smoke back to its source, which is inevitably the console room. As I burst in I am about to call out his name when I hear him speak.

"Oh you sexy thing."

Well Clara… That is enough to stop you dead in your tracks.

The Doctor just called someone sexy.

This brings several thoughts flooding into my brain all at once. He hasn't seen me yet, or at least I don't think he has, and regardless this is the Doctor we are talking about here. But if it isn't me he is speaking to, which I have now decided he can't be, there is the fact that he is talking to someone, and there has never been anyone other than us two on this ship. He doesn't like to trust people, or at least I don't think he does, so who on earth or elsewhere would be in here. Also, I'm not admitting to the little flutter my heart did at the tone of his voice when he said it. No. Not at all. It didn't happen and I am not thinking about it.

As all of these thoughts race through my head, he suddenly appears from under the console, wiping soot from his face with one hand, holding the sonic spanner thing in the other and with a look on his face that was somewhere between Christmas coming early and a sexy smirk.

And of course he noticed me standing here, and the smirk instantly disappears to be replaced by the look of incredulity I guessed would come if he saw me like this. I say instant, but it wasn't quite that fast, if we are being honest he did give me a bit of a once over before he decided to look taken back. Down boy?

"Clara. What are you doing standing about in, in that? It's not… Decent." The last word sounded a bit forced.

"Well, I heard something that sounded like you might have set off a nuclear warhead, then saw smoke, and decided your well being was worth more to me than my modesty." I say to him. That is the truth after all. The Doctor's safety is worth a lot more to me than that…

"Who else is in here?" I add, more nervously than I would have liked to, damn my voice for giving me away. The Doctor just looks at me confused, walking closer, studying my face as if it might give him the answer. "What?" He asks me.

"I just heard you talking to someone. You called them… You called them… Sexy…" Again my own voice betrays me at the last word, and I look at my feet. As if the stutter wasn't enough. Pull yourself together Clara. You running in here to protect him from something in your age old undergarments was supposed to make him blush.

"Ooooohhh." The Doctor says, as he slips the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket.

"Clara, there is no one in here except you and me, that I know of at least, promise." He says, smiling down at me and crossing his hearts. "I was talking to the TARDIS."

Okay, my eyes shouldn't be able to go this wide. I know he talks to the cow box a lot, but sexy? Really?

"Why?" I get out weakly.

After raising an eyebrow at me as if that question has the most obvious answer in the universe he simply says, "Well because she is!" Seeing no eureka moment from me he continues.

"I was trying to fix the Medium Hadrian Collider, well more like see if it needed fixing, and no I don't mean the Large Hadrons Collider or Hadrian's Wall, it would be rubbish to have those under there, the Wall would take up too much space and Time Lords know more about black holes than anyone else ever will, we practically invented them. Anyways, I was trying to sort it out because I thought I heard it moaning a bit funny like when we got back from Barcelona last week. Possibly something to do with sitting in the cold of the South Pole for a few days a while back there, but I moved the wrong switch, which likely was the cause of that explosion you heard, and then smoke started blowing in my face, toxic smoke by the way, quite an unpleasant thing to inhale. Then the TARDIS decided to turn on a ventilator I didn't know existed, probably because there is every chance it didn't exist before that moment, but she did it and it stopped me from passing out and possibly choking to death! See! Living metal that takes you through all of time and space, is always there when you need her, and is all wrapped up in the most wonderful shade of blue, isn't that sexy?" He has that early Christmas smirk again. Looking up and patting the console, he continues in a much lower tone of voice "Usually I only call you that when we're alone though, don't I dear?"

Apparently my discomfort with this whole conversation is very obvious, as the Doctor laughs at me a little, and I can't help but smile.

"All that said however, I am very glad that if she hadn't done something, you were here and would have come running in to save me." The Doctor says with a genuine smile. "Especially since you would have done it in your underwear."

I quirk an eyebrow at him at that. "Especially since I would have done it in my underwear?"

"I didn't mean!"

"I know."

"I just."

"I understand I do."

Oh no, I did it again. I didn't know what it was, but his eyes suddenly have the weight of the world, or rather the universe on them. He turns away mumbling something she can't hear. I don't understand why this happened, he won't tell me. Not that I would pry of course, although I would have listened if he wanted to tell me. It had something to do with pain and loss. That much was clear. I've had my own fair share in that, which makes it easier to spot in others, even when they try to mask it. And we all try to mask it really. Some lash out, some of us throw ourselves into school or work, some of us turn to others, some of us try to help others, some of us keep running and never stop if we can help it, and some of us do some combination of the above.

"I'm sorry." I say, putting a hand on his shoulder not really sure what else to do.

His hand reaches up to rest on top of mine. A moment later he spins around, looking bright and cheerful again, telling me not to be sorry but rather to go back and finish getting changed. As I turn to leave he calls out. "Oh Clara wait, I've got something you need for your period appropriate attire!"

I turn around to walk back over, only to almost walk into him. He smiles as he pulls something out of his vest pocket and puts it into the palm of my hand, and then closes my fingers over it, kissing my knuckles. Opening my hand, I find a beautiful ring inside. It is dark silver, almost black, with a deep purple stone set into it. The band is small, so I begin to take the ring I already have on off of my right ring finger to put it on.

"Oy, no wrong hand!" He says as he stops me, takes it back and then slips it onto my left ring finger.

"We are going to Victorian London Mrs. Smith! I won't have anyone accusing my darling wife of being a dishonest woman!"

"Mrs. Smith?" Okay, that weak voice I disliked earlier is back.

"Yes! We are Doctor and Mrs. Smith for the time being. John Smith being my super secret undercover name for stealthy investigations."

He smiles at me once more, kissing my forehead and dashes back to wherever below the console he was before I came in, calling back "Now love, you better go finish getting dressed or else we'll be late! We can't be a respectable young married couple in Victorian London if we are late for things!"

Late in a time machine, only he could manage that. A silly thought runs through my head as I walk back to finish smothering myself in layers. He might call the TARDIS 'sexy' when they were alone, but he was about to call me 'wife' in public…