I SHIP WHOUFFALDI TOO HARD. SORRY NOT SORRY. Plus, after listening to my Whouffaldi playlist, I just couldn't resist...and The Caretaker just made me...gah, I just can't even. My heart is still broken. BUT WHOUFFALDI IS NOT DEAD! I would think that it's stronger than ever, because now it's pretty obvious that the Doctor still has some lingering feelings for Clara. (That is, if you were looking at the right moments...)

Enjoy!

Before

xXx

"Where did you want to go? It had something to do with worshipping crocodiles, yeah?" Clara Oswald asked as she swung open the doors to the TARDIS. She looped around the console to grin up at the Doctor, who was (as usual) standing above by the bookshelves. "Something like that," was the Doctor's response and he headed down the steps. He planted his hands over the console and Clara waited patiently for the TARDIS to begin moving. She turned over, resting her back against the console and then…

Silence.

Nothing.

Clara frowned and turned back around at the Doctor, who hadn't moved an inch from his current position. "Er…aren't we going to go?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. When the Doctor didn't reply, she forced out a small laugh. "Doctor? Hello? Are you in there?" Clara waved her hand over the Doctor's face, expecting him to do…something. Snap at her, push her hand away, glare at her – anything of that sort would have been normal to Clara.

But he didn't do any of those things. Instead, he simply turned to stare at her.

That was it. That was all.

"Ooh, look at that," Clara murmured, desperate to keep the mood light. "So he can move." Her attempts, sadly, were not working – she should have known. Ever since last week, there was something different about the Doctor. Clara couldn't quite explain it – he didn't say anything or do anything clear enough to make Clara think that way. However, he seemed to deliver his words without the usual…gumption that he usually carried around himself. He was – if anything – just a bit quieter though again, Clara was sure she was imaging that part, too.

And then there were the eyes.

Clara always knew them to be sad, but it was just slightly different. It was a different kind of sad – an almost renewed kind of sad that Clara couldn't put her finger on. She knew well enough that it had something to do with last week, since that was when it started, but why the Doctor still acted that way was the main source of confusion for Clara.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, Clara sighed and crossed her arms. "What is it? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

The Doctor blinked and pressing his lips together, flicked a glance at the many buttons on the console. "Nothing," he replied. He cleared his throat and started to pull at the levers. "Egypt! That was where we wanted to go – Egypt and Croco – never mind, can't pronounce it now. Too much of an effort at the moment."

"Too much of an effort?" Clara asked incredulously. "I never knew you to be a person who –"

"Yes, well, now I am!" the Doctor interrupted indignantly, looking down at Clara. The brunette closed her mouth, slowly nodded, and looked back at the TARDIS doors. "Did something happen here?" she asked quietly. "You're acting funny."

Clara could practically feel the Doctor's eyes boring into the ground as he replied, "I'm an alien, Clara – of course I act funny." Narrowing her eyes, she whirled around and said, "You never used that excuse before."

"Yes, well, neither did you, and now look."

The Doctor's comment was like a slap to Clara's face – and they both knew it. She bit down on her lip, trying to find the proper words to say – but how could she? How was she supposed to answer to something like that?

The Doctor, to Clara's surprise, beat her to it. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "That came out wrong."

"You're apologizing?" Clara asked dubiously. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Thought I might like to try it once in a while," he replied, though there wasn't much humor in his voice. Still, Clara managed to give him a weak smile. He didn't return it.

Sighing again, Clara strode up to the Doctor and planted her hands on his shoulders – something that she had learned that would always get his attention. Just as she had suspected, his eyes immediately snapped down to meet hers. "There's something wrong, Doctor," Clara said slowly. "I don't know what it is, but if you're not going to tell me now, just know that…" Her voice drifted as she struggled to find the proper phrase to complete the sentence. She puffed out a small, exaggerated breath and tapped the Doctor's shoulders again with her palms. "Just know that you're going to have to say something sooner or later."

Fine – those words didn't exactly come out as well as Clara had hoped, but it would have to do for now. With that, she started to lower her hands from his shoulders, only to get them caught right at his hips. "Doctor…" Clara's words drowned in her throat as the Doctor suddenly crashed his lips right into hers.

And then Clara's hands were let go of, allowing her to bring them right back to the Doctor's shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned in towards the Doctor, letting her hands tangle into his hair. The Doctor responded to that gesture by pressing her against the console. His hands crept up and down her arms, causing Clara to shiver only occasionally.

In other words?

The kiss was wild. Different – passionate – charged. Something that Clara hadn't experienced before and hadn't been expecting, especially from the Doctor himself. It wasn't until the Doctor pulled away did Clara actually realize how long they had been staying in that particular position. She caught her breath and eyes still closed, bowed her head.

She could hear the Doctor drawing out a long, slow sigh and then the quiet word, "Sorry." There was a pause and he added, "I…had to do that."

Clara's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at the Doctor. "Two apologies this time," she replied, though she didn't smile. She was less than a breath away from the Doctor – but neither of them moved away from each other. And Clara privately didn't mind, to be honest.

"Two apologies," the Doctor nodded. He took in another breath and repeated, "I had to do that before -" He cut himself off abruptly, taking a quick step back from Clara. The brunette, however, took a quick hold of his wrist. "Before what?" she asked quietly.

There were a few beats of silence before the Doctor replied in a soft voice, "Before you leave."

I wouldn't leave, Clara wanted to say, though one more look at the Doctor's eyes told her not to proceed with that sentence – how many others had said those words to the Doctor before? And how long had the Doctor been traveling alone? To him, was Clara already gone? Or was she still in the process of fading away?

Finally, Clara found enough strength to say, "I'll make you remember me before I leave." After a moment of hesitation, she added with a small smile, "Clever boy."

Before she could lose her nerve, Clara wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck and brought him closer to her face. She planted a lighter, softer kiss on his lips and this time, the Doctor didn't pull away.

A/N - If anyone happens to want to know some good Whouffaldi songs, I recommend BTSK and Dark Doo Wop by MSMR, Sofia Karlburg's cover of Crazy in Love, Sweater Weather by the Neighborhood, and if you want some angst, try Battlefield by Lea Michele. Those are all really, really good songs to write to. :)

As always, reviews would be great! Constructive criticism is welcome, (but nothing about Pinkswald, if you please - I havenothing against the ship and I like Danny's character well enough, but Whouffaldi is my OTP. Period.) but flames are not!