Disclamer: I own nothing. All rights go to the BBC, Steven Moffat, and anyone else I am leaving out. Enjoy! :)

Inside Clara Oswald's flat, the familiar wheezing sounds of the TARDIS bounce off the walls in her bedroom. She wakes with a start, squints in the darkness as the blue box materializes into view. She groans, turns onto her side and glances at the alarm clock on her bedside table. 3AM. What the bloody hell was he doing coming to her at 3AM?! Clara had had a relatively long day, full of tests and hormonal teenagers. Needless to say she was absolutely exhausted. She hadn't seen the Doctor in a little over a month. Did he really have to pick right now to decide to come back?

Since Christmas The Doctor and Clara's relationship had changed dramatically. Touches, kisses, and feelings were shared. They had even made love a few times and he seemed to be doing okay with their new shared intimacy. She had told him that although they were now in a relationship, she couldn't travel with him full time. She loved being a teacher and wasn't ready to give that up just yet. They then decided that he would stay with her whenever he could and that she would still accompany him on adventures on Wednesdays. He left her abruptly one morning, telling her he 'had to do a thing' and that he would be right back. Now here he is, a month late, classic Doctor.

She sat up on the bed, back against the headboard and watched as the TARDIS door opened slowly to reveal the Doctor in a very disheveled state. He leans against the doorway with a confused look on his face. He takes a step and stumbles forward, his legs hitting the end of her mattress. He slouches and presses his hands against her sheets steadying himself. Clara looks at him, only able to see his silhouette in the darkness. She gets out of bed and turns the light on. She walks over to him quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Doctor." She whispers looking up at him intently. The way he's bent hides his face from her view. He doesn't respond, so she presses further "Doctor." She repeats in a louder tone "Stand up and look at me please."

He makes a strangled noise in his throat and slowly rises from his position. He straightens up and turns to her on wobbly legs, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep balance.

"Clara." He says, slurring her name in a deep raspy tone. He looks at her with hooded bloodshot eyes and smirks slightly.

Clara takes in his appearance. His long curly hair in a sweaty mess, his face showing some stubble. He wore his magician's jacket and blue galaxy printed button up shirt. Four of the buttons were undone, showing some of the sparse grey hair on his chest. His trousers were filthy and he reeked of alcohol.

"Are you drunk?" She asks. Clara was worried about the current state of him, but also very annoyed at the same time.

"Why would you think that?" He answers her. His thick Scottish brogue so low it makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Why would I think that?!" She snaps at him, her voice raising with each word. "Well let's see..for starters your balance is terrible, you're sweaty and you're eyes are red, You look like you haven't bathed in days... and the alcohol on your breath is so strong I think I might pass out from just the smell of it!"

He should have known that she would have reacted in this way. He whispers with pursed lips "I may be slightly inebriated.."

"Slightly!?"

"Okay.. extremely" He winces at the volume of her voice "Clara, It wasn't my fault."

Any of the anger or annoyance Clara had thought she had disappeared when he looked at her, like a wounded baby owl, with those big sad eyes. She realized she shouldn't be yelling at him. He'd obviously been through enough. She took a deep breath and gave him a small smile, placing one hand on his stubbled cheek and running the other through his damp hair in a calming motion. His eyes closed instantly at the contact, moaning quietly as he felt her nails scratch his scalp lightly. They stay that way for a few moments before Clara breaks the silence. "What happened Doctor?" Her question full of worry. "Where have you been?" The Doctor chuckles, taking the hands that were on her shoulders and moving them to her hips. "Do you really want to know?"

Clara reaches up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek "Wouldn't ask if I didn't want to."

"That's true." he whispers with eyes still shut. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, resting his head on her shoulder. He places a soft kiss to her neck.

She hums and smiles holding onto him tightly while speaking into his ear "You can tell me what happened after we get you ready for bed."

He looks up from her shoulder and smirks, eyebrows going up suggestively. She playfully smacks his arm "No way Timelord..No hanky panky until you're sober!"

The Doctor pouts and she giggles before she throws her arms around his neck, placing her lips on his for a sweet kiss that he eagerly returns. When they part she begins to rid him of his dirty clothing. She helps him remove his coat and then goes to work on the remaining buttons of his shirt, undoing them and pulling the fabric off of his body. Feeling sober enough he removes his filthy trousers on his own leaving him in his boxer shorts. Clara goes to retrieve a par of his favorite pajama pants, but decides against it because he's still too warm. "Alright Doctor, In you go." She says as she points to the bed.

"Yes, boss." He smiles while climbing into bed and sliding under the covers. Clara climbs in on the other side and reaches to turn out the light. She snuggles close to him and rests her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his hearts. He puts his arm around her shoulders and presses a soft kiss to her hair.

"Okay, Doctor. Give me the short version of the story" Clara yawns, feeling sleep approaching.

The Doctor takes a deep breath "Well..Let's just say it involves an ancient alien race called the Kalavax, Hyper Whiskey, and a plot to steal the TARDIS."

She laughs, drawing patterns on his chest "You'll have to tell me the rest of it in the morning."

He tightens his hold on her and hums in agreement. A few seconds pass when he whispers in her hair "Clara?"

"Yes."

"How long was I gone?"

"Little over a month."

The Doctor frowned. He never meant to be gone for more than a few hours. "I'm sorry, Clara. I'm an idiot."

She smiles, shushes him and places a kiss over his hearts.

"I know."

He may be an idiot, but he's her idiot.

Author's Note: Hi! I hope you enjoyed that! This is actually the first fic I've even written as a solo writer, so kind constructive criticism is welcomed. Also if you could leave a review that would be great! Thank you! :)