"You're always touching me," Clara said out of nowhere, leaning against the TARDIS console.

"What?"

"You know. You're always touching me. Patting my head, grabbing my hand or some other form of contact. You even smacked my bum with a towel once," she replied, matter-of-factly. "Why?"

The Doctor looked up at her, his eyes swimming with a variety of emotions that he'd never let fully show on his face. But he gave her a small smile, before looking down again, adjusting knobs and levers around the console. "I guess I just want to make sure you're really there." He said it with a flippant tone, not wanting to give himself away.

Clara walked opposite of him, making him stop when he was about to run into her. When he looked down at her, she took his hand and placed it on her head. A smile formed on his lips following closely behind hers. "I'm here as long as you'll have me."