“Clara, would you rather have a daft old man for a boyfriend knowing that you could hug him any time you like, or just be best friends with a grumpy old man who insists he isn’t a hugger?” He braved looking down at her face for the briefest of seconds before averting his gaze to the sunset. Clara’s heart leapt and she knew that this wasn’t just some hypothetical question — The Doctor breezed through thought experiments, but he was on-edge nervous right now, which meant that he meant this. She looked up at his face, and noticed that his jaw was taut and his ears were red. She sat up so that her face was level with his. She said his name so that he would look at her. He looked into her eyes, which were inflated beyond his comprehension. He was about to comment on them but his words came out as a slightly strangled cry when Clara lunged and pulled him into the tightest bear hug. She pulled back to look him square in the eye. “Does that answer your question, Doctor?” His hearts leapt. His mind immediately turned in on itself, screaming words of self-doubt. She must have misunderstood the question. Thinks it’s all hypothetical. Doesn’t realize I’m talking about myself.
Clara became confused at his hesitation and his silence. “Doctor, were you asking if I’d like you to be my boyfriend just then?” She nudged him when he didn’t respond. He nodded ever so slightly, not quite meeting her eyes.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’d rather date the daft old man.” She hugged him again and buried her face into his neck. Her breath was hot against his skin and it electrified him, overwhelming his senses. All he could think about was the way her words caressed his ear. Yes, she was saying over and over again. Her hand found his and she intertwined their fingers. He swore he felt her placing the tiniest of kisses just below his ear. The Doctor nearly jumped in his seat.
“How could you want that?” he sputtered flapping his arms around, his face beet red. Clara chuckled into the crook of his shoulder.
“Oh, you silly old man. Doctor, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to be yours for ages,” she informed him with a smile.
“But Clara, I’m — I’m too.... Clara, I don’t wear my bowties anymore,” The Doctor admitted, looking at his hands which were now in his lap. Clara let out a sharp breath and understood.
“Doctor,” she began slowly, considering her words carefully. “Bowtie-you was great, really great. Did I fancy him? A bit, yeah. Did I miss that version of you when you became this version of you? Of course, I did! He was my best friend. But I do believe that that was all the bowtied you and me could have been. Anything more than friendship wouldn’t have worked for me then. But with this you... I think there is something more to us now...” Clara trailed off.
“I thought you didn’t like this version of me. Too grumpy. Too old,” he said with a sad smile.
“Doctor, we’ve been over this, a bit, before.... Regeneration obviously changes your body, but this you came with a whole new personality, and I didn’t expect that. It took some getting used to. It’s not that I didn’t like you, it was just that I didn’t know how to feel or think about the fact that you’re the same old Doctor, but different too, all at the same time. The important parts are all still here,” she said placing his hand and hers over one of his hearts. “And your grumpiness has really grown on me. Our banter is much more satisfying now,” she added with a sweet smile and beaming eyes.
“Why don’t you think the old me and you would’ve had a shot?” he asked in an almost offended tone, his brows furrowing.
Clara laughed and The Doctor gave her a defensive look. “Doctor, oh God, this is a little embarrassing....” he raised his eyebrows even further, if that was possible. “Uh, Doctor, I’ve never really been attracted to pretty young men... In fact, you could say that this you,” she said gesturing up and down the length of his body, “is exactly my type.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows in delight. The