A/N Thanks for the patience. Here's the conclusion. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Returning the Favour

Clara would have never dreamed of being so bold, were it not for the look on the Doctor's face. His eyes darkened with lust, his tongue unconsciously moistening his lips. He looked hungry. Clara had caught glimpses of this before, but the moments were so brief she let herself believe she had imagined them. She wasn't imagining it this time. Clara very slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The Doctor shivered every time her hands brushed against his chest. With the shirt now open, Clara gently ran her hands up his chest. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back slowly. He was sensitive, she should have guessed. Clara's hands reached his shoulders and guided his shirt off. It joined the bow tie on the floor. Clara placed her hands on his belt and stared into his eyes. She raised an eyebrow, Dare me. The Doctor gave the tiniest of nods. She unfastened his belt, undid the button of his trousers, and slowly lowered the fly. She could already feel him straining against the fabric of his boxers. Maybe there wasn't such a think as too keen, she thought to herself. Clara let the trousers fall as well, they bunched at his ankles, "Careful not to trip," she warned with a smirk.

The Doctor kicked off his shoes and tried to do the same with his trousers, but one of the legs got caught. He nearly toppled over trying to free himself. Clara did her best not to laugh. She could feel a giggle about to escape, but it disappeared when he finally stood and caught her eye. That look was back. The fire, the hunger. He grew bolder, lowering his gaze, taking her in. "You can touch me, you know, Doctor."

His hands were more timid than his eyes. They hesitated a long moment before settling on her sides, a distinct effort to avoid all erogenous zones. Clara placed her hands on his and guided them towards her breasts. He looked a little taken aback, but soon began to caress and knead them gently. Clara let out a sigh and stepped closer to him. She let her hands wander down his chest, over his stomach, and right under the elastic band of his boxers. The Doctor's whole body shuddered as she grabbed hold of him. "So you do like me, then?" she asked with a wink, as her hands moved up and down the length of him. "This is properly excited," she grinned, smugly, pleased she could have an affect on him. She had always been so afraid that it was one sided, that she was the only one with feelings, with cravings. "I'm excited too. Do you want to see?" She was looking him in the eye as her hands continued to move.

"Yes," he managed to say. Clara used her left hand to guide his right hand between her legs. It was the Doctor's turn to look smug. "Clara Oswald," he said with a wicked grin, his fingers moving gently across her folds, "You are impossibly wet."

"I had a head start."

"Did you now?" he asked, moving his deft fingers up to trace circles across her clit. A wave of pleasure washed over Clara. She had to place her forehead against his chest to keep from falling over. Even still, her hands continued to caress him.

"I was dreaming about you. I dreamt you bent me over the console."

"And you enjoyed that?" the Doctor let his index finger tease her opening.

"Oh yes," Clara's breathing was laboured. The Doctor loved the feel of her chest heaving against his. She looked up at him and all of the Doctor's doubts faded away. He bent down and kissed her, a passionate, hungry kiss. She ran her hand over his ass and pulled down his boxers. His hands abandoned her for a moment so that he could pull her into a tight embrace. All that matter to him in that moment was feeling her pressed against him. He took a step towards her, but did not fully consider the boxers at his ankles. With neither arm available to catch himself, he tumbled to the floor, dragging Clara down with him. She landed on top of him with a roar of laughter, but stop the moment she realized their position, they were almost perfectly in line. She could feel the hardness of him against her core. "What do you say, Chin Boy? Wanna show me the stars?"

"Clara," he breathed, "My Clara. Oh yes." All it took was a slight adjustment and she surrounded him fully. Clara began to move up and down. The Doctor rose his hips to meet her each time. "I want to feel more of you," the Doctor managed to say through ragged breaths. Clara raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "All of you," he corrected, and in a moment he was sitting up, her chest pressed against his as he captured her mouth in a long kiss. Clara sped up her pace, leaning her forehead into his. She was getting closer, the Doctor was too, she could feel it, but there was something she wanted before they finished. "Doctor," she raised her head enough to catch his eye, "I want you to take me from behind. Just like in my dream." The Doctor's eyes did a quick scan of their surroundings, looking for a closer option than the console. Showing more coordination than he usually possessed, he managed to stand up with them still connected and carried Clara over to the hammock. They parted long enough for him to bend her over it, before he crashed back into her again. All his restraint was gone, he pounded into her hard and fast, and she met him with equal fervor. The Doctor reached around and stroked her clit. Clara really could see stars behind her eyes now. "I'm close, Doctor," she managed to say in between moans.

Suddenly the Doctor stopped. "I want to see you." He turned her around and lifted her on to the hammock. The Doctor stood in between her legs and slowly entered her, all the while glazing into her eyes. He started off slowly, trying to make it last, but they were both well beyond that. Clara picked up speed and he matched her. Her legs were wrapped around his ass and they both held each other in their arms. Clara was biting her lip, trying to hold in a scream, but it was no use. Her head fell against his shoulder as her body spasmed. He quickly followed, trying to get in the last few thrust before he came undone completely.


They lay in the hammock in each others arms, a comfortable silence washing over them. The Doctor absentmindedly traced Gallifreyan letters across Clara's stomach. Clara sighed, contentedly, "I'm happy too." The Doctor gave her a puzzled look. "That's what you wrote, isn't it? The Gallifreyan word for happiness and joy?"

He smiled warmly, "I sometimes forget that you understand it."

Clara shrugged, "It comes and it goes, like the other lives."

"What's this one?" he asked, moving his fingers delicately across her abdomen.

"It's cooler."

"Ha! Close. It's 'bow tie'. Well technically it's 'neck adornment', there's no word in Gallifreyan for bow tie—"

"No, the room Doctor, it's cooled down," Clara shivered slightly as she said it.

The Doctor picked the sheet off the ground and wrapped it around them, "The TARDIS must have fixed it."

"I knew it was her fault," Clara said in a matter-of-fact way. She rolled her eyes at his ridiculous machine, when a completely different thought occurred to her, "Do you think she did it on purpose?"

"What, like did she intend for this to happen?" the Doctor asked, pointing a finger between the two of them. The Doctor looked skeptical, "I can't imagine. Although it wouldn't be the strangest thing she's ever done. Did I ever tell you about—"

"Why don't we just ask her?" Clara looked up towards the console, "Activate the voice interface."

"Voice, visual interface activated," came the monotone drone of Clara's voice.

The Doctor nearly fell out of the hammock as the hologram materialized in front of them. Embarrassed, he pulled up the sheet so that he was completely covered. Clara looked baffled by this, "You of all people should know she can always see us."

"Yes," he whispered quickly, as if hoping the TARDIS wouldn't overhear, "but right now I can see her seeing us."

"That's illogical," the TARDIS commented.

"I'm with you," Clara said, surprising even herself by smiling at the voice interface. "The heat, that was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"And this, the Doctor and I, did you mean to do this?"

"Yes."

"Why?" the TARDIS looked at her like she was an idiot, as if the answer was obvious. "You don't even like me."

"Why would I dislike you? You led him to me. I was returning the favour."

Clara made a face, trying to process everything she was hearing, "So the moving my room, the locking me out, the turning off the warm water every time I get into the shower, you did all of that to get us to this moment?"

"Of course."

Clara laughed, "That's quite the long play. I'm not complaining about the result or anything, but you've been tormenting me for nearly a year. I mean it took us ages to get here."

"I was already here. You took the long way around."

"Can't argue time with a time machine," the comment earned the Doctor a glare from Clara.

"So we're good then?" Clara asked the TARDIS, "Truce?" The voice interfaced nodded. "Then can you put my room back, please?"

"No need."

"I still have to sleep—"

"You sleep with him."

Clara glanced over at the Doctor, who had been grinning up until then, and now just looked confused, "Wait, I never said—"

"But you will. Now I suppose you don't have to."

"Can't argue time with a time machine," Clara echoed.

The Doctor laughed, "I suppose not. But I can shut her off. Disengage voice interface."

With the hologram gone and the temperature back to normal, Clara began to rise from the hammock, "Time for bed, Doctor. Let's go to our room."

"Actually, sorry, could you say that again?"

"What, our room?"

"Okay, just once more," a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Our room," Clara was smiling now too.

"I never realize how much I would enjoy hearing that said out loud," he was beaming at her. The Doctor held out his hand and Clara took it immediately, as she always did. "I was right you know. I told you she liked you."

"Well I was right too, Doctor." He looked at her inquisitively, "I told you this was a snog box," and even after everything that had happened, the Doctor still blushed.