Merry Christmas @universe-on-her-shoulders I’m your Secret Santa! and once again, I’m terribly sorry about the wait—I hope this was worth it!
You said that you loved “Hell Bent” and face touching, so... here’s that one moment we all adore, down in the Cloisters...
“People like me and you, we should say things to one another. And I'm going to say them now.” Clara took a deep breath, not bothering to wonder how exactly she could do that if her heart was frozen in time. “I’d promised—twice—that I was never going to say them again to anyone else, but…” The Doctor was staring at her, grey eyes wide. “I’d like to think Danny would forgive me.”
She took another deep breath. “I… love you.”
There. After years, it was finally out in the open.
The Doctor wasn’t smiling, but there was something very nearly like peace in his large bright eyes. “I know.”
She shook her head. “No, I mean…” She stopped, then leaned forward, cupping his cheek in her hand. She moved forward slowly, allowing him to back out of it if he so desired, but he did nothing, staying very still.
Clara touched her lips to his, and it was nothing like her quick kiss that one Christmas, given in joy and exhilaration. There was nothing epic or universe-shattering about it, not as she had once or twice daydreamed in their early days. But it was something she had wanted to do for a very long time, even as she had faced the dilemma of also being in love with Danny, and she kissed her Doctor now with a still heart that was too full for words.
After a few seconds, he responded, his lips moving against hers, slowly, as if he’d forgotten how to do it (and maybe he had—her poor Doctor was very, very old now, and he had lived an incredibly long time alone).
They broke off at the same time, slowly, gently, as if they’d been doing this forever, her hand still pressed against his jawline, and the hollow of his cheek.
The grey eyes, usually so sharp and intense, were soft and warm now.
“Clara, my Clara. I know.”
