The Doctor kicked aside a stray Cyber head, then winced. Clara's feet were a lot more delicate than his own. He hoped he hadn't chipped her toenail polish - if she even wore the stuff. He'd never noticed, but women could get terribly fussy about such things. She might be cross with him when she woke up.
He saw himself, standing across the room, leaning heavily on the wall. There were bruises on his face where the Cyber gear had been attached. Entirely too close for comfort, that was. And if he hadn't had the extremely clever idea to hide a bit of his own consciousness inside Clara so as to enable himself to take command of the situation behind the Cybermen's backs, things might have gone very badly indeed.
Curiously, he noted that Clara's heart rate increased the moment she laid eyes on him. That was her reaction, then. Cocooned as she was inside a piece of his own consciousness, Clara still had a physiological reaction to seeing him.
He noticed then that his - er, her feet - were moving quite rapidly. Running, as it were. And that was her reaction as well. There were so many things he didn't understand about Clara, and the temptation to explore her mind was nearly overwhelming, but he absolutely would not do that without her consent. These small reminders that she was indeed aware of his presence enabled him to firmly squelch any urges to cheat.
He watched himself wearily push off from the wall, and hold out his arms to her. He felt a blush rise in Clara's cheeks, and a glow of pure joy suffuse her mind as his arms wrapped around her tiny frame. It was a bit unsettling to be on the receiving end of one of his own embraces, and very much awe inspiring to feel the range of emotions surging through his companion.
Much as they were both enjoying the hug, the Doctor needed to put his own mind back where it belonged and put Clara back in full control of her own mind and body. Direct physical contact was required for that, and Clara's psyche immediately provided a suggestion. There were probably very many much more suitable means of contact, but Clara didn't give him time to think of any.
Clara reached up to hold his face with both hands and very firmly press her lips to his.
The Doctor placed his hands on Clara's temples and concentrated, gently withdrawing back into his own mind, and placing Clara in full control of her own. He caught her when she staggered a bit, holding her tight against his chest.
Clara blinked up at him and smiled. "Hello?"
"Hello," he replied, grinning in relief. "All right?" he asked gently.
"I think so," Clara answered, a trifle shakily. She reached up to stroke the bruises on his face with butterfly fingertips. "And you?"
"Never better," he whispered.
They stood there for an eternal moment, reveling on the sound of each other's heartbeats. Then Clara looked up at the Doctor with just a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Doctor, the next time you want to take the kids to an amusement park, can we just go to Disneyworld?"
The Doctor's laughter rang through the deserted complex as he lifted Clara off her feet and swung her around in pure, joyous abandon.