A/N I'm sorry about the significant delay. I've hopefully learned my lesson about working on two fics at a time (although the real issue was a busy life, and that can't be helped). Thank you so much for reading (and being uber patient with me)!

I recently heard a great quote from Moffat about his vision for the Doctor and Clara that I thought was adorable and dead on:

"The subtext - the thing that's happening this time that we haven't really quite seen with the Doctor before is… we've seen him fall in love loads of times, we've seen him have secret crushes, we've had him… we've had all of that very much in the Doctor - I don't think we've quite seen him just straight-forwardly fancy someone that he thinks he shouldn't. He really should not fancy this girl. But he REALLY does."

Chapter Six - The Boss

Neither the Doctor nor Clara could say who kissed the other first. They had moved on instinct and found themselves in each others' arms. For all of their blushing and awkwardness, there was no hesitation. No fluttering of limbs or chaste, timid kisses. Their hands roamed each others' bodies freely as their tongues simultaneously sought entrance into the others' mouth and met. It seemed impossible that they had been sitting so far apart moments ago, as they drew each other in even closer. Clara's small hands were entwined in the Doctor's hair and the Doctor, for his part, held Clara flush against him with his arms wrapped around her back. She let out a moan as his lips abandoned her mouth and trailed a line of light kisses down her neck. When he reached the soft skin just above her collar bone the Doctor changed his mind and this time bit down. Clara's whole body trembled and she let out the most fantastic cry of pleasure. The Doctor wanted nothing more from life than to illicit that sound again.

Clara couldn't be sure how it happened or who initiated it, but suddenly they were lying down on the couch, the Doctor positioned on top of her, although he carried the bulk of his weight on his elbows. Her body, seeming to act on its own accord, shifted until he was lying between her legs. They both froze and let out a surprised gasp as their bodies fell into place. It didn't matter that there were multiple layers in the way, the feel of the Doctor hard, and pressed right against her centre was enough to dissolve any small amount of restraint, and Clara bucked her hips up against him, causing him to call out what she could only assume was a Gallifreyan expletive. After that they were lost in the delirium of each other. Their bodies moved together as if they had never done anything else.

The Doctor's trail of kisses led further down Clara's chest. It was the sudden surprise and delight of his lips finding her nipple that brought Clara momentarily back to her senses, at least enough to notice their surroundings. She tried to get his attention, but at the same moment he flipped his tongue in such away that turned her, "Doctor..." into more of a throaty moan. When she had, at least partially, regained her composure, she tried again, "Doctor, don't they-the us from the past-don't they find us in my room?"

"Time can be rewritten," he said offhandedly, turning his attention to her other breast.

Clara seem to purr beneath him, but managed to pull herself together long enough to lift his chin and bring them face to face, "But it won't do to have Mr. Maitland or the children find us here, will it?"

To be perfectly honest, the Doctor had completely forgotten that they existed, but he could see now that of course Clara was right, "Upstairs."

"Upstairs," she agreed and before she could stop him he whisked her into his arms crossing-the-threshold style. Clara let out a giggle, that was quickly drowned out by thunderous music. With Clara still in his arms, the Doctor lifted his foot and realized he had stepped on the stereo remote. He glanced down at Clara, ready to laugh, but the sultry look on her face called him back to the task at hand. Ignoring the music he raced up the stairs. Clara was saying something, but it wasn't until they were nearly at her bedroom that he was able to hear it, "Put me down!"

"You're the boss," he said, setting her down gently and then pushing her roughly up against her door, his mouth devouring hers. She ran her hands down his back and couldn't help but smile at the small squeal he let out as she grabbed his ass. Clara let her right hand trace the top of his trousers until she reached the front. Her hand hovered over the button for a moment while she made up her mind. In that moment she broke away from their embrace and led him by the trousers into her room. Once there she got to work on his clothing, discarding his jacket, vest, bow tie, and suspenders in quick succession, "You wear too many layers."

"So do you," he said, his hands toying with the bottom of her dress.

"I am only wearing one."

"And it's too many," in a single move he tugged on the light material and had it over her head, leaving Clara in only her tights and a small, black bra.

He reached out to unclasp her bra, but she stopped his actions with a look, "Patience, Doctor. I told you, you're still wearing too many layers." She very slowly unbuttoned his shirt, kissing every new piece of skin that she revealed. The Doctor longed to reach out and touch her, kiss her, take her right there, but he did as he was told, he tried to have patience. With the last button undone the shirt fell to the floor. Clara undid his belt and unfastened his trousers almost painfully slowly. She hooked her thumbs into the waist band of his boxers and lowered both of them at the same time, kneeling so that she could help him cast the trousers aside. With the Doctor now naked she looked up at him, but instead of gazing at his body, she stared directly into his eyes. It wasn't a shy look, and it didn't ask for permission (she knew she had it). Instead it was a bold look, one filled with passion and anticipation. It was enough to make the Doctor shudder. Her eyes lowered and she gazed instead at the part of the Doctor directly in front of her. She looked so certain, but the Doctor was beginning to have doubts. How small and fragile she looked below him. How lovely and perfect. She deserved so much better than him. He should lift her up, pull her into a hug, tell her she didn't have to do anything. He should stop this now, before it went too far. But before he could convince his body of this fact she ran her tongue down the entire length of him. He shuddered again and wove his fingers through her hair, although he still had enough presence of mind to not pull. She took him in her mouth slowly, inching her way along. When she couldn't possibly fit any more of him she pull back, still keeping the pace slow and controlled. She took him into and out of her mouth, picking up the speed slightly; her right hand moving up and down the base where her mouth couldn't quite reach. The Doctor stroked her hair and did his best to stay standing on increasingly wobbly legs. How was it possible that she could make him feel this good? She was of course his Impossible Girl, but in this moment what seemed truly impossible was that he hadn't given in sooner. The Doctor could feel himself on the edge, but it was too soon, and there was so much he still wanted to do. He gently raised Clara to her feet and pulled her into his embrace. With surprisingly nimble fingers he unclasped her bra and released her for a moment so that she could cast it aside. He drank in the sight of her and in true Clara form she in no way shrank from his gaze. Instead she seemed to stand up straighter, letting him take a moment before she drew his attention to her tights. "I'm still wearing too many layers, Doctor."

"Clara Oswald, that did not escape my notice," as swiftly as he had in the living room the Doctor lifted Clara up and gently placed her down on the bed. She was trying to pull him on top of her, but he stopped her with a look that said it was her turn to be patient. He moved down her body methodically, kissing and caressing any part of her within reach. He couldn't keep the smile from his face every time her body twitched madly, which he could elicit with something as simple as the light brush of his finger tips against her skin. What happened to that brilliant Time Lord brain of his? Where was its logic and compartmentalizing now? The truth was that his mind and finely tuned Time Lord senses were completely swimming in her. The sight and feel of her glowing skin, the soft, enticing sounds she was making, the smell of her, so familiar, and yet now made new by her arousal. He longed to taste her. He removed her tights and knickers in a single motion, and although it took all of his self restraint he allowed himself a moment to take her in. "Oh Clara..." his eyes roamed over her lovely curves and features, settling at last on her face, "You are beautiful!" She smiled up at him so warmly, all of his worries and doubts seem to fade away. Of course she didn't 'have to' do any of this. She wanted too. And so did he.

He kissed his way up her thigh, making good use of his skillful tongue. When at last he ran his tongue over her core her whole body shook wildly for a moment, and she blushed for the first time since the couch. The Doctor looked bemused, "Sensitive, are we?" Clara merely nodded dumbly. Thinking she should make some sort of wise crack about finding a better use for his tongue, but he beat her to the punch line and ran it gently across her clitoris. After that there were no more words. It took the Doctor no time at all to discover just what Clara needed. He had her so far gone that when he slid a finger inside of her, she called out in total surprise and amazement. She could feel herself getting closer, her whole body cried for release. The Doctor would feel it too, "Come along, Clara" he teased, looking up from between her legs.

"Not without... you," she managed to say as she thrashed her head back and forth and balled her hands in the sheets.

The Doctor was taken aback by her statement. He sat up for a moment so he could see her more clearly, and was completely caught off guard by Clara's sudden movement. In a single action she had flipped them over and left herself directly above him, with him positioned right at her entrance. For a moment she stayed perfectly still. He didn't dare move either. She was the boss after all, he was more than happy to work on her schedule. He wasn't kept waiting long, no more than the length of a breath, although to impatient bodies that can feel a good while longer. She slowly lowered herself onto him, staring him straight in the eye. Her beautiful, warm, expressive face giving him a view of exactly what she was feeling. The pace she set was slow and controlled. This would be no race to the finish. She wanted them to experience each other, enjoy each other. She balled her fists into her hair when he first grabbed on to her hips and seemed completely lost to the sensation. He loved watching her, that would have almost been enough, but coupled with the feel of her was beginning to be more than the Doctor could bare. He rolled her over, keeping a distance between their bodies, and trying to list off all of the rooms in the TARDIS to keep himself together. It was no use. Besides, she wasn't having any of it. She pulled him against her and smiled at the feel of their bare skin pressed together. Instinctively he began to pick up the pace. She wrapped her legs around him and rose to meet him with every thrust. Clara could feel it building up inside her again. A tsunami ready to crash on the shore. She opened her eyes and and sought out his, "Come with me." That was all the Doctor needed. They went together as they always did, hand in hand, running towards oblivion.

They lay comfortably in each others' arms for a long while after, enjoying the tranquility. Clara rested her head against the Doctor's chest and delighted in the sound of his hearts beating away, slowly returning to a resting rhythm. Her Doctor.

Suddenly she sat up with a start, remembering something for the first time, "But you never came."

"I most certainly did."

Clara smack him playfully across the chest, "I mean the earlier you. You never interrupted us."

The Doctor looked both amused and smug, "The 'earlier me' stood in the doorway for almost five minutes. You were just distracted."

Clara looked a little taken aback, "You watched us for five minutes? You are a dirty old man," her usual teasing grin spreading across her face as she said it.

"So what if I am?" and with that the Doctor pulled her into a deep kiss. She pressed her whole body against him, delighting at how well they fit together despite their significant height difference. He had one hand wrapped around her waist and as they kissed he grabbed her hip with the other.

Their embrace was interrupted by the opening of Clara's bedroom door. The two lovers, naked and still in each others' arms, looked up at the completely terrified Clara standing in the doorway. In a moment the Doctor had entered the room as well. He took one look at them (a look of both understanding and confusion, mixed of course with concealed desire) and led Clara out of the room.

The Doctor and Clara lying in bed burst into a fit of laughter. Tears were streaming down Clara's face when she finally calmed down enough to speak, "Okay, you're right. I was scared."

"Terrified," the Doctor corrected.

"Terrified," she agreed as she snuggled into his chest. The sight of her wide eyed past self reminded her of all her fears and doubts from earlier in the afternoon. With how happy and comfortable they had looked in bed, Clara had assumed that she had interrupted herself and the Doctor a long way off in the future, in the middle of some sort of relationship. Now that she knew it was only the first time, she couldn't help but wonder if it would be the only time. If they'd chalk it up to a strange, timey wimey day and go back to being 'friends'. "So..." she began, her eyes fixed on his chest as she gently moved her hand over the light chest hair she encountered there, "what happens now?"

"Now?" he asked, staring down at her affectionately, "oh, we could go to Baxton VI. Pink sand, sugar water, skinny dipping," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the last item on the list, which earned him a giggle from Clara. Not exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. His disappointment was short lived, for Clara's hand, that she had been aimlessly drawing across his chest, was now moving down his body with far more purpose.

"Or we could stay here a little longer."

He trembled at the feel of her hands on him again; his body already reacting. "You're the boss."