Chapter Twenty-Two

The sound of chalk tapping along the surface of a blackboard resonated off the walls of the room as Clara climbed up the metal steps towards the heart of the TARDIS. Coming around the console, she found him on the lower level, his back turned to her as he continued to be immersed in his work. She slowly approached him from behind and took a seat at the top of the stairs, observing intently as he appeared to be focused on some sort of Gallifreyan maths equation. She studied him quietly, allowing him the time he required during their temporary silence to distract himself from whatever was ailing his mind. After everything that happened between them over the past few days, it could hardly be narrowed down to one alone. There was a lot to be accounted for, after all. Their current situation wasn't what one might consider "normal" by any standard. But then again, when it came to the Doctor, what was? Though human parents typically spent this quality time together adapting to the lifestyle changes brought on by the birth of a new child, the Time Lord and his human companion were facing an entirely different set of challenges; most notably, the race against time.

The Doctor seemed rather distant since their daughter was born, wandering about the ship in a constant state of depression and wild deliberation. Though he looked in on his family from time to time, there was an unmistakable glimpse of sadness hiding behind his eyes whenever she found herself looking deep enough. He was both present and not at the same time. He hadn't held his daughter in his arms since the day he helped deliver her. Clara thought perhaps he was still trying to remain unattached so as not to allow his own devastation to consume him at the thought of never finding a way to stop Missy from taking her. Or perhaps he knew deep down that if they were to succeed it wouldn't even matter in the end. Though she hoped he'd desire a strong bond to form between them, he chose instead to deny himself the joys that came with fatherhood to concentrate all of his energy towards reaching the end. It pained Clara immensely to see him this way, watching as his affection and devotion slowly disintegrated over time to be repurposed as a means of winning the battle against Missy. As she continued to observe him with unspoken apprehension, she couldn't help but wonder what sort of man he was forcing himself to become.

"How is she?" he finally asked, breaking the silence in the room. His attention remained unfaltered from his work as he listened in for a response from her.

"She's sleeping finally. Dreaming of something magical, I hope," she answered, trying to mask her concern over his apparent absent-mindedness and disconnection from her.

"And you?"

She sighed lightly and thought for a moment about her answer. The sheer quantity of emotions thriving within her were so overwhelming she didn't know where to start. She had left her old life and everyone in it to remain by the Doctor's side. There wasn't a single person back on Earth who had any idea she was even gone. There were no baby showers or congratulations awaiting her return as she knew she'd never be returning, at least not in this reality. She felt so very alone and abandoned by the man she loved even though he hadn't actually left her. She felt weighed down with uncertainty and bound by the capabilities she knew she must ensue as a new mother. But she was strong, she knew she could endure the pain of loneliness for as long as she had to if it meant they'd survive this together. What worried her more than all of that was the feeling of something evolving inside of her she didn't know how to explain in words alone nor understood what it meant. "It's all a bit surreal, I think. I'm slowly coming to understand what it takes to be a real mother. And yet, when I look at her, I sometimes can't believe she's really here. I can't help but think only a few days ago she was living and growing inside of me. When I close my eyes, I swear I can still feel her moving around in there. But now that she's finally here, it's almost as if there's an emptiness within me. Like a void. I had become so used to her warmth, I hadn't realized how much I'd miss it when it was gone." She lowered her head and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them tightly to her chest as she thought about how much she missed everything that came with his affection.

"All of that will pass with time, I'm sure," he replied, continuing to face away from her.

Clara nodded quietly to herself and tried not to develop an emotional attachment over the lack of sympathy in his response. She couldn't bring herself to object to his sudden avoidance of her as she felt responsible for its existence in the first place. The guilt she carried in her heart over her last confession to him had been born from fear and spite, a confession she knew to be both cruel and untrue. During that moment of extreme desperation, she had become a victim of her own failure in the ultimate test of strength and taken it out on him in the most undeserving way. Though he had come through on his promise to get their child back, her regrets of that day were tearing her apart. "Doctor. What I said before, about hating you," she began, trying to find the words housed somewhere beneath the layers of her thoughts.

"There's no need to explain. I already know," he stopped her, maintaining concentration on his work.

As much as she felt he deserved an explanation to what was really going on in her mind, she knew that wasn't the sort of thing he'd often take the time to listen to out of his own free will. Though his words helped to remind her of his ability to see beyond her anger and through to her own heart, she needn't rely on their bond to know there was something much larger than her insecurity taking priority in his mind. "What's troubling you then?"

"What makes you think I'm troubled?" he asked, raising his brow towards the blackboard as he wrote.

She glanced down at the ground below his feet, taking notice of the active battlefield around him littered with broken chalk pieces lying murdered by his frustration. "Oh, I dunno. Wild guess?" Returning her attention to whatever he was working on, she allowed her thoughts to become strategic and analytical in process. If she truly wished to discover what was going on in that daft mind of his, she would have to think like him. She would need to depend upon her knowledge of how he functioned under pressure in order to form a suitable reason for his diversion. If she hadn't been the cause of it, then what had? Taking a moment to comb through the events over the past few days and carefully taking into consideration everything he told her, it suddenly made perfect sense. "You're worried. You're wondering if you've done the right thing."

"Perhaps I have, or perhaps not. Only time will tell," he answered, unsurprised by her accusation.

"She could have taken our child away, but she didn't. She could have killed you and left your body back on that beach, but she didn't. That has got to count for something, shouldn't it?" she asked, trying to bring even the smallest amount of positivity to their conversation.

"That's not what concerns me," he replied, taking a step back from his work to observe it in its entirety. He folded his arms at his chest and brought the chalk to his chin as his mind continued to wander.

"What is it then?"

He turned around to face her for the first time at the question, "Well, for one, we're still here."

Clara felt her eyes narrow with perplexity at his statement of the obvious, "Yeah, not following."

"Time has yet to be rewritten. We're still trapped within our infinite loop," he explained, gesturing to the space around them.

"And what, you thought Quynn changing her mind would have saved us?" she wondered, trying to latch onto whatever thought pattern he was attempting to pull her towards.

"No, I knew that wouldn't have worked. Well, probably wouldn't have worked." He observed intently as her questioning brow tore right through his cleverly disguised deception. "Okay, so I wasn't exactly ruling it out at the time," he confessed. He turned and slowly paced in front of her, taking a moment to allow his thoughts to reorder themselves in a more linear path so she would understand. "But had that been the case, everything would have reverted back to the way it was before by now. This conversation wouldn't even be happening. Though it may seem like we are no better off than we were a few days ago, I believe Quynn may have proved herself more useful to us than I originally thought. Her sudden change of heart might not have been enough to alter the course of history altogether, but perhaps her act of kindness was exactly the push we needed to help shift ourselves out of this loop." Turning his attention back to the blackboard, he placed his hand on top of it and rotated it around to reveal a blank workspace on the other side.

"Why do I suddenly get the feeling there's a theory coming on?" she frowned.

"Hush," he ignored her. Grasping the chalk, he began to draw a straight line across the bottom of the blackboard with a gap directly in the centre of it. "Now pay attention. In order to fully understand how we will break out of the loop, we must first explore the nature of the loop itself." He brought his hand to the very middle of the board and drew a circle in alignment with the gap. "This circle represents us at the very moment this all started. Consider it a marble containing everything we know to be true leading up to that moment. And this," he paused, drawing an arrow from the circle straight down through the gap in the bottom line, "represents the path of our infinite timeline. Constantly moving forward, never changing. The marble travels down its own timeline, unaware of what lies ahead of it, until one day it gets sent back in time." He proceeded to draw a second circle at the top of the blackboard, followed by an arrow from the second circle straight down to the first one. "Staying true to its original course, the marble will travel towards its past self, thereby striking it and sending it forward down its timeline to be sent back in time to encounter its past self. A never-ending loop, forever trapped for all of eternity. Unless, of course, you were able to alter the angle of impact." He quickly turned around and pointed at her with the end of the chalk. "Question: Why did you try to kill yourself back on Messaline?"

She found herself blinking with surprise at his abrasiveness, unsure of how to respond. "I, uh-"

"Conjecture: Because you knew something was wrong," he interrupted, then returned his attention to the blackboard. Reaching towards the top, he drew a series of circles tightly overlapping each other atop the second circle. "Each of these circles represent an unknowable amount of cycles we've made through the loop. All nearly identical to each other, but with one small difference. You see, each time we've repeated the same series of events that have led us to this point in our timeline, something more has followed us back. Little pieces of our previous selves have begun to bleed through causing small ripples in the fabric of time. Those slight variations from one cycle to the next may seem minuscule and insignificant at first glance, but over time they could have catastrophic consequences. If you're a paradox that is." He took his time drawing lines from each of the new circles towards the original one in the centre, then turned back to her. "Imagine you're skipping stones over a body of water. You throw the stone over and over again towards the same destination but no matter how hard you try, no stone will ever land in the same place twice. Why? Because of small changes in the atmospheric pressure, the pull of gravity, the average wind resistance, the density of the water, the size and weight of the stone, the number of skips, the velocity of the throw. Every single one of these factors will undoubtedly alter the final destination of each stone. But in the end, they will all still sink in the water, as stones do," he paused momentarily. "Which I now realize isn't strictly relevant. Skip that last part. What I mean is, even the smallest change from one cycle to the next would cause the angle of the marble's path through time to be shifted by a mere fraction. In other words, the marble will continue to strike itself over and over again at a slightly different angle than before until it eventually knocked itself completely off course, thus never being sent back in time to begin with. Boom. The timeline disintegrates." Picking up the eraser beside him, he quickly dragged it across the board to erase all of the circles then turned around to face her once more. "Any questions?"

Clara's expression reflected that of sheer exhaustion both in mind and body as she held her head up by her temples and allowed her thoughts to catch up to her. "A few, but let's start with the obvious one. How exactly do we plan to knock ourselves out of the loop?"

"No idea."

"Great. Good thing I was sitting down through all of that then," she replied, allowing her head fall to her knees defeatedly.

The Doctor set down the chalk and approached her at the stairs, concerned by her increasing display of weariness towards his lack of comforting conversation. He relied so heavily on her ability to retain a positive outlook when it came to keeping other people alive that he forgot how to be that for her in return. "There is one thing I do know. Whatever course of action is required to get us out hasn't been done yet, otherwise we wouldn't still be here. Which means it would have to be something I wouldn't normally do, something dangerously outside my level of comfort. Something risky. So, what's the best way to find out if a plan is going to work? You do it. Starting with step one: Discover the cause of the loop. Step two: Form an exit strategy. Step three: Change the future." He eyed her carefully and allowed her a moment to process his words in her own time.

Clara slowly lifted her head from her knees and stared at the old man objectively. She knew that look in his eyes all too well. Taking the time to grasp what he was really trying to say, she realized he wasn't just lecturing her on the cause and effects of the universe as he always did when he was trying to come up with a plan. He was being clever. He was testing her. This was his way of determining whether or not she had been paying attention, which almost always meant he was about to do something she wouldn't approve of. He was seeking her validation, luring her in for some underlying purpose, and he needed her on his side. The wheels in her head began to spin as she thought about the real reason they set out on this path to begin with, until it finally hit her. "Except we already know what caused this. We know Missy needs the baby to continue the loop. Which means you have to get close to her to find out how she wins in order to change the outcome. And you can't do that unless she has the baby. That's what this is all about."

"Precisely," he smiled, feeling elated by his success in reviving his partner in crime from her extended dormancy. "We only assumed Missy would come for the child, but what if we've been going about it all wrong? What if our only means of breaking out of the loop depended entirely upon us giving her up willingly?" he implored her.

"And you seriously thought I'd be okay with that plan? Have I missed something? Wasn't the whole point of everything we've been trying to do meant to stop Missy from sending Quynn back to the past?" she objected, fighting to keep her defensive nature to a minimum.

"It still is. That hasn't changed," he assured her.

"I don't understand," she replied as her inner hostility gained in strength. "You said nothing would happen to us, that we would be safe here under your protection. You gave me your word, Doctor. I trusted you. And now that she is finally a part of our lives, you're telling me you want to just give her away? Is her life really so expendable to you?"

His smile faded at her harsh accusation, feeling every bit of it cutting right through to his beating hearts. Inhaling a deep breath, he cautiously ascended the steps and took a seat next to her at the top of the stairs. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him, allowing his thoughts to brew for a moment before responding to her calmly. "I know how all of this must sound to you. I understand you are upset, I haven't given you any reason not to be. But if there is any part of you that actually believes I want to give her up, even to save our lives, then you don't know me at all. So please, do not accuse me of being so heartless." He lowered his glance to the steps below him, knowing what little had been said between them the past few days. "I know I haven't been there for you, that I haven't brought myself to become what you hoped I'd be for her. There's nothing I want more than to be by your side, for us to be a family. Have you any idea how painful it has been for me to watch as you fall more in love with her each day, knowing I will never be able to give you the life I dream we could have together? Do you think I enjoy my time down here all alone, spending all hours of the night and day apart from you? I don't do it because I want to, I do it because I must. I do not have the luxury of pretending everything is going to be fine in the end, that whatever fate is in store for us isn't waiting just beyond those doors." He sighed and ran his hands down his exhausted face, trying his hardest to keep his own heartbreak from revealing itself in her presence. "My entire world is falling apart all around me, Clara. I'm doing the best I can to hold all the pieces together. It seems the longer I try to hold them, the quicker they slip from my grasp. By now, Missy must know our child has been born. It's only a matter of time before she'll expect me to come through on my part of the deal. And if I don't, she still has access to the future and the means to kill you." He turned his attention towards his companion's sympathetic expression and gazed apologetically into her eyes. "I'm sorry, but now that you've given birth, you've become expendable to her. As long as our child still lives, she no longer needs you alive to carry out her plans. She knows what you mean to me. She knows she can threaten to hurt you just to get to me. And she will. Unless I can stop her first." He slowly reached over and carefully placed his hand into hers, their fingers curling as they entwined with one another. "Do you trust me, Clara?" he spoke softly, desperate for her comfort and understanding.

She glanced down at their held hands, feeling his thumb softly stroking across the surface of her skin. It was so rare an act for him to open himself up to her in such a way, especially when it mattered. She knew he would never ask her to risk her life or their child's unless he was certain he could win without either of them being harmed. No matter how dangerous or insane or suicidal his ideas turned out to be, the one thing she could always count on was his duty of care. She would never ever give that up, not for anything. Their dependence upon each other had gotten them through even the worst of situations, this one was no different. "I trust you, Doctor," she confirmed, gently squeezing his hand to assure him she would always be by his side. "What do we do?"

He willed a weak smile to his face and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly before placing his other hand on top. "We play the game, over and over again if we have to. Until we beat it." He looked to his companion, feeling comforted by the thought that she remained a constant in his life during these dark times. He knew he had taken their friendship for granted more often than he dared to admit, which left a lot to make up for. If there was one aspect of himself he could take with him after all of this was finally over, it would be the memory of her admirable compassion. The best he could hope for in the end was the chance he'd finally find the courage to tell her what she meant to him before it was too late. As impossible as it was to know for certain what their future relationship would evolve into, there would be no future for them at all if they didn't succeed. The only thing left for them to do was continue the mission. "If there was any other way, I'd take it. I'm afraid defeating Missy is the only way to end this. She'll expect a fight, so we're going to give her one. Except this time, it'll come with my own set of strings attached. I'll need her to think she has won if this is to work. So long as she believes she's winning the battle, she'll never anticipate the war until it's over."

"So you have a plan then?" she asked hopefully.

"Less of a plan, more of a thing. But soon the answer will be, 'Yes, I have a plan,'" he answered, trying to remain as positive as he could so as not to lose her confidence in him. "I cannot bring Missy down on my own without help. As long as she remains protected behind her wall of defence, I'll never reach the end. I won't be able to stop her." He lowered his head and sighed, feeling just as diminished as he did the day Missy turned down his offer. If he truly wished to beat her at her own game, he would need the equivalent of an entire army on his side all working together. "I need Quynn, Clara. I can't do this without her."

Clara nodded reluctantly, unsure of how to feel about the amount of dependence he was putting towards their daughter's decision to betray the woman who raised her. "Do you think she will help us?"

"We'll know the answer to that soon enough, I suppose," he replied, realizing what little time he had left to wait for her. "All I do know is when she's ready, she'll come to us."

"For our sake, I hope you're right," she replied, doing her best to stay supportive during this time of uncertainty. "Well, speaking of our daughter, I better go check on her before the TARDIS decides to play revolving rooms again. We really need to come up with a better arrangement." She let go of his hand and grabbed the rail beside her, pulling herself to a standing position. As she turned to make her way towards the console, she suddenly felt the startling sensation of heat burning low in her abdomen unlike anything she ever felt before - like fire but without the pain. It happened so fast she hardly had time to react. She winced aloud and brought a hand to her middle as the feeling intensified. She tightly shut her eyes and concentrated on the foreign affliction. Before she could determine the cause of her ailment, her thoughts were interrupted by a series of images flashing into her mind uncontrollably - visions she had never seen before. A room, a bed, two people engaged in a display of passionate love for one another. She saw herself crying out with euphoria, a sweat glistened upon her brow. And then she saw him. He held her delicately in his grasp, worshipping every part of her body as if it were a temple. His familiar form was pressed on top of hers. She could feel him carefully pushing himself deep inside of her, urging her to open wider for him. A sense of greater purpose could be seen in his eyes as he filled her. She felt their heat, their passion, the intensity of his love all pouring into her. And she wanted more. The images were so real and so powerful she gasped at the sensation of it. Her eyes flew open to the space around her once again.

"Clara?" he called worryingly. He quickly gathered himself from the floor and gently took her by the arm to steady her. "Are you alright?"

She found herself startled by his touch, unsure of what was happening inside of her. "Yeah, uh, a bit light-headed is all. Probably just tired," she lied, taking a moment to clear the visions from her mind.

His brow raised suspiciously as his concern for her well-being took over the expression on his face. "Yes, probably that," he eyed her, feeling the heat of her body quickly rising beneath his grasp. Something was definitely wrong.

"There's no need to worry, I'll be alright," she assured him, bringing a smile to her face. Taking a step towards him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek hoping her simple display of affection would be enough to distract him from fretting over her. "Don't work too hard, Doctor," she added, removing herself from his side and leaving him to his thoughts.

"Okay, boss," he agreed, watching intently as she made her way to the other side of the room and down the stairs out of sight. Once clear of her, he quickly stepped towards the console and brought the view-screen around in front of him. "Medical analysis, Clara Oswald," he ordered the machine. He waited patiently as the TARDIS located his human companion within her walls and scanned the female's body for possible threats. After a moment, the results were promptly displayed upon the screen. A hint of dread came over him as he observed the image before him. The scans showed the progression of the virus thriving inside of her. To his dismay, the infection managed to spread its way throughout the entirety of her mind. He needn't scan himself to know he too had lost the battle against their illness. It had finally won. He hung his head and sighed, unsure of what this would mean for either one of them. All he did know was there was nothing he could do to help her. This was something she'd have to fight on her own.

New Sparta, Arcadia 3135 A.D.

The night's absence of moonlight piercing the darkness foreshadowed the fate of every living soul behind the once impregnable walls of the armoured city. The inevitability of its much-anticipated downfall had become the most sought after achievement of more than a thousand warrior races in its extended history, though none had ever succeeded. The knowledge of this realm's often celebrated immortality stretched far beyond the stars, bringing with it significant temptation to those hell-bent on witnessing the fortress's destruction. Passed down from generation to generation, the tales of its victory told throughout the centuries had become that of legend to the citizens of this metallic kingdom. And yet, like the fall of Troy in the infamous Achaeanian war, it was only a matter of time before the city's defences had worn thin with age and weakened by the continuous sieges against it. Whether due to the hubris of their species or by the will of the gods, sooner or later all great things must come to an end.

The resonating cacophony of defending gunfire drowned the screams of defenceless women and children fleeing for their lives as their beloved sanctuary burned all around them. The breached city walls groaned and creaked loudly with objection, their integrity now compromised by a force far greater than anything they had ever been met with. Those of the highest-ranking status and stature were shown to be of no greater value than their own livestock ripe for the slaughter. Anyone still fighting to stay alive was forced into retreat deep inside the underbelly of the city's most sacred grounds. As the air grew thick with smoke and ash, the countless pleas for help from those left abandoned on the surface began to die out leaving an eerie quiet in its place.

From the shadows appeared a legendary creature of great power. Her black cloak drifted over the fallen debris like the cold touch of death as she passed. Behind her, a loyal army of ten thousand strong accompanied their Commander deep into the ruins of the shattered city. The earth shook beneath their feet as they marched forward. Their ballads of victory stretched far beyond this foreign kingdom bringing horror and despair to the hearts of their enemies.

Approaching from the easternmost section of the city's central square, a lone scout made his way towards the familiar form of his superior standing before him like a god. "Sir," he addressed the Raven, bowing respectively.

Turning her attention towards the soldier, she glared down at him from behind her shaded mask. "Report," she instructed, her voice feigned and distorted.

The scout cleared his throat and presented a battle-ready server pad containing the data he gathered of the city's structures and garrison. "The first wave of artillery was successful in disabling nearly all of their main defences both inside the city and along the perimeter walls. Their remaining forces have retreated just beyond the borders of the capitol building. They've taken defensive positions in at least three known locations throughout the city," he informed her, highlighting specific areas on the map's interface for her to observe. "It has come to our attention that a large number of their legions have been concentrated in one area in particular," he continued, enlarging the map to a digital rendering of a massive columned building. "The temple of Hestia. According to our scanners, there's a series of tunnels running underneath the city that can only be accessed from inside. It has been suggested they are utilizing the tunnels and crypts to offer sanctuary to the women and children seeking refuge there. We've discovered the temple grounds to be heavily armoured and well-defended. Those still fighting to protect it are proving more difficult to eliminate than we originally anticipated."

"How admirable," she replied, allowing a small snicker to escape through her mask, "and here I was beginning to think we had come all this way for nothing." Though pleased at how effortlessly the city seemed to have fallen under her control, she expected to find greater resistance from those who so boastfully claimed to be forged from that of legend. Before their departure, she had become just as well-versed in the tales of triumph told throughout the land as she had of the trials and tribulations of her predecessors. All of which had attempted to take the city by force and failed. Their misfortunes on the battlefield had become quite the tactical advantage when it came to paving the way for her own army's success. If it hadn't been for their downfall, this day might have been awarded to another. "Never fear a challenge, my friend. It only makes our victory that much more rewarding in the end."

"What are your orders, sir?"

Returning her attention towards the direction of the sacred temple, she almost pitied them. Their refusal to accept their place under her command was the sole cause of their demise. And now, as they faced certain death, the only thing they had left to cling to in this world was hope for their species. Where were their Gods now? Where was their heroic knight in shining blue armour so tirelessly determined to set things right in the universe? He had abandoned them, and yet they would still choose to sacrifice themselves waiting for a coward in a box to save them rather than accept their fate. She felt her face furrow in a sudden fit of resentment and loathing, though she wasn't entirely certain it was them who were to blame for it. "Obliterate them," she instructed.

"What of the women and children?" he inquired, holding his intimidation of her at bay.

Taking a moment to consider her answer more carefully, she became lost in thought as if she had been pulled into the void of her own contemplation. Somewhere deep inside of her mind, she felt as though every cell in her body had slowly been poisoned over time ever since the day she first regenerated. Where she once strove to mould and shape the universe by way of order and destruction, a larger part of her could not help but feel her purpose had become monotonous and unfulfilling. There were times when she found herself yearning for something much greater than what she spent her entire life hoping to achieve. This was the only life she had ever known. She had caused more pain and suffering in her lifetime than her memory could even recollect. By her own reasoning, it was already too late for her to become anything else. Perhaps the Doctor was right. Perhaps the day would come when the countless number of lives she sought to destroy finally weighed heavy on her soul. But until that day, there was still an army to command and a war to be won.

"Sir?"

Regaining her mind, she peered back at the scout and confidently delivered her answer, "Leave no one alive."

"Yes, sir," he replied, bowing in compliance.

As the scout took his leave of her presence, she sensed something of a rather disturbing nature beginning to form around her. Something she could not have anticipated. "Quynn," a voice suddenly whispered to her with the passing breeze. Her gaze was pulled towards the direction of a large columned structure left modestly unscathed by the surrounding siege. Being drawn to the sound, she removed herself from her stagnant position on the street and made her way towards the building alone. Slowly approaching the colossally-sized entrance, she observed a figure stirring amongst the shadows from within. She paused just outside and listened in for the voice's return only to find silence in its place. Perhaps she simply imagined it. Or perhaps it was unworthy of any further investigation on her part. The thought of abandoning her curiosity in favour of the building's destruction crossed her mind when the sound of someone's footsteps could be heard originating from somewhere inside. Silently drawing her sidearm, she cautiously stepped foot onto the marble tiles and proceeded into the room on a mission to locate the source.

"I know you're here," she called out, her voice echoing back to her from every direction as it reverberated off the walls and high ceilings. Advancing into the uncharted expanse, a long row of variously sized bronze statues depicting the old gods of Earth could be well observed between every structural pillar on either side of her. Her senses remained on high alert as she made her way deeper into the meticulously designed space. Her tactically trained skills of observation helped her to scan every possible niche and cavity in search of potential threats concealed within. The farther she strode into the unknown the more she could feel the familiar presence of someone she knew all too well lurking in the shadows as if they were watching her. "There's no use in hiding, you'll only prolong the inevitable," she called again, attempting to lure them out. Beyond the next area, the distinctive sound of footsteps from someone retreating farther into darkness was followed by a series of hushed whispers. "If you think you can save them, you're too late. You've already lost," she expressed with confidence as she tentatively followed the voices into the adjacent room. In the centre of the columned chamber sat several long tables between accompanying rows of hand-crafted wooden chairs, a dining hall perhaps.

A rustling noise from somewhere beside her drew her glance towards the darkened spaces of the room. Her eyes observed the silhouette of someone quickly passing behind the columns. She caught a glimpse of crimson red shining brightly from the lining of their coat as the light welcomed it. "Come out and face me, Doctor," she called to him malevolently, slowly stalking towards the shadows as if she were hunting prey. Another noise from the opposite side of the dining hall claimed her attention. Her pace quickened as she strode across it towards the sound. Just before reaching another doorway, she stopped in her tracks. From the shadowy the centre of the next room stood the familiar form of a man. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his face was shrouded in darkness, but she knew it was him. Though she couldn't see his face, she was sure he was smiling at her. Raising her sidearm, she aimed it at his hearts with the determination that this time she would not miss. Her finger upon the trigger, she observed as he stepped forward into the light and looked back at her with his piercing green eyes. An eerie silence fell between them as they stared at each other. In her hesitation, he turned and headed out of sight towards the other side of the room before she could fire. "Stop!" she commanded, rushing weapon first through the doorway after him. As she entered what appeared to be a small kitchen, she was prepared to find him waiting for her just inside. But what she discovered was not what she expected as her eyes met with the frightened faces of a mother and her young boy cowering in the corner against a solid wall. In her arms, she held a newborn baby girl close to her chest. Quynn stared at them in disbelief as it suddenly dawned on her that there were no other doors aside from the one she had come through, making these creatures the only other life forms in the room. Bewildered by the sight of them, she took aim. The mother softly pleaded for their lives and held her children tightly. As Quynn attempted to grasp what was happening to her, her glance lowered towards the small baby.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" the Doctor's voice whispered as if it were calling to her from every wall and corner of the room. She quickly spun around and aimed her weapon towards the shadows only to find them vacant of any life. She felt her hearts beat even faster at the sudden disturbance, becoming frightened by her mind's apparent rejection of all reason. The sound of her accelerated breathing resonated from inside her mask as she continued to search for him. Her thoughts began to betray her the more she tried to convince herself that this was all just an illusion, just a trap masterfully designed by him in order to weaken her defences. And yet, what if it wasn't? What if it was far worse than that? "Her story has yet to be written," he spoke softly from behind her. She turned around towards the source, her weapon aiming blindly into the darkness surrounding her. The sound of the infant's whimpering forced Quynn's attention back to the family cowering before her. Her weapon instinctively drew itself towards the terrified faces staring up at her. Her gaze returned to the small girl being protectively cradled in her mother's arms. "She can grow up to be anything she wants to be," he called again, this time from the centre of her mind. His words were so very clear and possessing it was as if she had spoken them herself. She glanced over at the young boy. The sight of his tears suddenly triggered her memory of the child lost within the sea of screaming faces as he cried out for his mother. The image of his village burning all around him had stained itself in her memory ever since the Doctor gained access to her thoughts. Whatever he had done to her, it was clear that no matter how strong she had become, no matter how many people had to fall in order for her to succeed, there was no army in the universe large enough to defeat him in the battle against her own mind. He knew exactly what he was doing.

An explosion originating from somewhere in the city caused the building to creak and groan, suddenly breaking her of her trance. The sound of the walls shedding centuries worth of dust and sand between its cracks was heard hitting the floor as the structure became increasingly unstable. From somewhere within the boundaries of the massive building, she could hear the faint voices of her soldiers making their way inside. Their footsteps drew closer to her location. It was only a matter of time before they were inevitably discovered. Her weapon trembling in her grasp, she lowered her arm and allowed it to fall to her side. Taking one last look at the faces of her enemy, she inhaled a deep breath and offered them the single most important advice they would ever hear. "Run."

Making the solitary journey back to her ship through the mass of decaying bodies all around her, she finally arrived at the base camp just outside the city's outer defences. She hadn't even remembered leaving. All she could think about was getting as far away from that place as possible. Once aboard, she made her way down the corridors in silence. The doors to her battle-room opened as she approached. Inside she discovered several of her lieutenants hovered over data schematics and tactical protocols. Their heads raised at her entrance.

"Leave me," she instructed, her demeanour fierce and threatening.

"Sir?" one of the soldiers asked, confused by the sudden interruption of her presence in the room.

"I SAID LEAVE ME!" she screamed, removing her sidearm to point it directly at the next highest-ranking soldier in the room.

Without further argument, the soldiers gathered up their materials as quickly as they could and made their way towards the exit. She found herself now completely alone within the confines of her battle-room. Replacing her weapon at her side, she removed her gloves and placed them on the console table in front of her. Lowering her hood, she unfastened the cloak from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the ground behind her. She raised her hands to her head and removed the mask from her face before clipping it to her hip. As she did, her mind was suddenly flooded with the screams of her victims as if they were crying out all at once. She grasped the sides of her head as their voices pulsated through her mind and shattered her from the inside. The returned visions of their horrific deaths were so powerful she screamed out in agony in an attempt to make them desist. She felt her nails tearing at her own flesh as she tried to escape from them. The thought of killing herself just to end her pain entered her mind when the voices suddenly stopped. She gasped for breath and braced herself against the surface of the table as her mind began to reset itself. No matter how hard she tried to resist it, she knew this was the price she had been forced to pay at the cost of uncovering the truth. As the Doctor's confession filtered back into her thoughts, her reflection continued to stare back at her.

Returning to her natural stance, she reached into her pocket and retrieved the device he once gifted her so many years ago. Having kept it with her all this time, its purpose remained a mystery ever since the day she could last recall being in his presence. So small a thing, she thought, and yet important enough to have risked his life just to give it to her. "When you're ready to know the real truth, you'll know what to do with it," his voice echoed into her thoughts once more. Twirling it around in her hand, she noticed the green light lit up on one side remained unchanged since last she saw it. Examining it more closely, she discovered a small round opening located at either end. A charging port or data link perhaps? She instinctively glided her finger over the opening as if searching for a clue to its meaning. Before she could question its purpose any further, she was suddenly startled by something sharp piercing through her finger. She winced aloud at the pain, allowing the device to fall from her grasp onto the console table. A pool of blood began to form at her fingertip. A few seconds later, another green light appeared atop the device opposite the first. Without warning, the table's view-screen flickered and switched on as all of its internal systems fully activated to the technology being presented. Scanning the device, the interface quickly began to download the stored data onto its memory drive. Her attention shifted to the console as the words "download complete" flashed upon the screen. Though afraid of what she would discover once she chose to follow the path of uncertainty in search of answers, deep down, she already knew what she would find. She could not turn back now. After a brief hesitation, she opened the file and expanded its contents to display in the form of a holographic projection in front of her. The image revealed two separate yet nearly identical triple helix DNA strands, both originating from the same source. The readings indicated the first blood sample had been procured from that of a half-human female, extracted on the very same day Quynn had last seen the Doctor. The second more concerning sample was her own. The scan showed the same blood type and species as the first, with only one noticeable difference. Of the two specimens, only one of them had gone through a complete cellular regeneration.

Quynn leaned against the table and hung her head in deepened contemplation. After all this time, the truth had finally been revealed. The thoughts tearing through her mind were so vastly overwhelming she found herself laughing aloud with spiteful cynicism, her voice striking the walls of the ship with ferocity. Taking a moment to compose herself, she lifted her head and returned her attention towards the image floating before her. As the devastating truth about her existence began to set in, she could feel her fury forged from the fires of her mother's betrayal rising from within her. She clenched her fist in a fit of anger and slammed it upon the table, shattering the glass beneath it. As her hatred began to boil and fester, she knew there was only one thing left for her to do.

The familiar sound of the Doctor's voice reverberated off the walls and nearby corridors of the ship as Clara made her way towards the console room. She quietly paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened in to the energetically charged one-sided conversation taking place above her. From what she could hear, he appeared to be engaged in some sort of advantageous narrative with himself. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she quietly climbed the metal steps to meet the form of her best friend holding their baby in one arm and a spoon in his other hand.

"Do you want to know how I did it? Go on, ask me. Okay, I'll tell you. I switched on the antigrav, of course! Then I drove that motorbike up the side of the building all the way to the sixty-fifth floor!" He pointed the spoon out in front of him and continued, "I pulled out my screwdriver, aimed it at the glass, and soniced my way right into her office! The look on her face. Hilarious." A wide childish grin spread across his face as the baby gazed up at him in amazement.

"The day we first met," Clara chimed in as she approached them from across the room. "Our first adventure together. She must really like that one."

"So do I," he admitted, shifting his focus towards the sound of his companion's voice.

"What's with the spoon?" she asked with a laugh.

"Practical effect. I was short a spoon-headed killer robot lying around and had to make do in a bit of a rush," he answered, exhaling his breath upon the metal then polished it off on his coat.

"Ah. Equally terrifying, I'm sure," she replied humorously. Reaching the console, she lightly grazed her fingers over the buttons and controls before stopping at the view-screen. She peered up at its display as if expecting something new to be discovered there only to find its idle status remained unchanged since last she had seen it. In fact, nothing about their current situation had changed over the last several weeks ever since the Doctor first explained his theory behind their multi-cycle loop. As the days continued to wear on, she couldn't help but wonder how much time had been afforded to them before it was finally up. If he did have a plan, he certainly kept her in the dark about it. Perhaps he was biding his time. Or perhaps he had yet to find a solution with the least amount of risk to their lives. Either way, she felt entirely pointless during this time of uncertainty.

If there was one thing he had taught her throughout their many travels together, it was how to utilize whatever was readily available in order to successfully manoeuvre their way through any unfavourable situation. Work the room, look for clues, discover your enemy's weakness. Whether he relied on her ability to be incredibly clever whenever the situation called for it or simply tasked her with causing a distraction, she brought a sense of value and purpose to the table he often found desirable. But now, everything seemed a little too quiet, a little too routine, a little too... human. She wasn't so sure if she knew how to be that anymore nor remembered how it felt to live a normal life again. As much as she wanted to be a part of whatever crazy idea he had hidden up his sleeve, it hadn't exactly sat well with her knowing he chose to entrust their fate in the hands of a psychopath.

"Any word?" she asked, turning around to face him. He sighed and shook his head at the question. "And Missy?"

"Nothing," he confessed.

"Well, maybe there's a bright side. Maybe she's changed her mind," she suggested, amused with herself as he responded to her humour by frowning in her direction. "Yeah, I know. Just wishful thinking, I guess." She leaned back against the console and smiled at the sight of him gently rocking their infant in his arms. She noticed a significant change in his demeanour over the past week or so. He had become exceptionally caring and more involved in their lives as if embracing the thought of what it would be like to finally settle down. Though a strangely foreign sight to her, she had grown particularly fond of the way fatherhood looked on him. It was nice to see him happy for a change despite their unfortunate circumstances.

The Doctor replaced the spoon inside his breast pocket then softly stroked his thumb over their daughter's small brow until she eventually fell asleep in his grasp. He tenderly kissed the top of her head then carefully lowered her into the bassinet beside him.

"You're really good with her," she admired from afar.

"I've had a lot of practice," he replied, delicately draping a blanket over the small girl.

"You know what I think?" she continued, slowly approaching him from behind. "I think you were better at being a father than you let on."

"I may have had my moments." He glanced down at his child and smiled fondly as he recalled a time back long ago when he spent his nights watching over his children as they slept. Back when things seemed so simple.

As she reached him, a familiar heat began to rise within her at their closeness. Though she had become accustomed to its unfaltering persistence within her, it was significantly different than the warmth she experienced during her pregnancy. This particular fieriness burned deep in her belly whenever she was near him. She thought perhaps it was just another side-effect of their bond, that maybe their feelings for each other had been amplified ever since they had become a part of each other. Whatever the cause, the sensation was both exhilarating and increasingly sensual. "I find that incredibly attractive," she admitted, tracing her fingers down the centre of his chest.

"Do you?" he asked, his attention being drawn to her sudden affection. As he peered down at her big brown eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of security in her presence. No matter the turmoil they faced, she was always prepared to stand by his side. Without her, he was sure he would have forgotten how to breathe. He brought his hands around her waist and gently pulled her in closer. "Are you sure it isn't my impeccable charm? My superior intelligence? My dazzling dress sense? I've a whole list to choose from," he noted, grinning to himself.

"Lest we forget your inflated ego," she added, smiling up at him brightly. "We could fill a raft and float out to sea on that."

"You never know when that might come in handy," he countered.

"What, and give you another reason to feel clever? I'd never hear the end of it," she teased, wrapping her arms around his thin frame. She comfortably rested her head against his chest as they looked in on the sleeping girl. "Is it strange we named our daughter after herself?" she asked rhetorically. "I mean, try explaining that one in normal conversation."

"Stranger things have happened," he answered vaguely, inclining the memories of those from his marital past to be left where they were. Tilting her chin towards his lips, he leaned down to kiss her. He hardly remembered the last time she had been in his arms, a fault he would greatly consider to be his own. Finding the perfect balance between rising to the top of his intellectual game and his desire to become the lover she deserved was an impossible task. And yet, the longer they stayed hidden away waiting for something to happen the more he could feel the scale tipping in her direction. The few precious moments remaining between now and the inevitable fight to the finish line was all the time he had left to love her this way.

As she engaged herself in his romantic gesture, their affection for each other began to electrify the space all around them. Elated by their sudden intimacy, he took her aside and anxiously herded her towards the console to lean her against it. Their bodies united as one as they continued to kiss each other. Once timid and frightened of what his feelings for her might lead to, he found himself truly comforted by the love she continued to gift him with. A love that opened more doors into their relationship than he ever thought were possible. She had gone from a mystery to a friend, from his companion to the mother of his child more quickly than he could even fathom. And he cherished her even more for it. Nothing would ever be able to replace the love he held in his hearts for her. After a moment, he heard her grunt uncomfortably from under her breath. He pulled away to see her face and raised his brow in response.

"Sorry, it's just… the metal. It's digging into my back," she declared, shifting herself to a better position. As her fingers grazed over the buttons on his vest, she gazed up at him with a heightened sense of provocativeness about her. "You know, it's a shame there's no bedroom in here. As far as snog boxes go, the TARDIS isn't exactly the most comfortable."

He playfully scoffed at her insensitivity and placed his hand upon the console, petting it tenderly. He glanced up at the rings above him and called out to his long-time vessel, "She didn't mean that!" Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached towards the controls and began typing a destination into the ship's interface. His other hand manoeuvred around his companion's side to grasp the lever behind her. He peered down at the form of his petite-sized prisoner captured between his arms and grinned mischievously. Without any warning, he pulled down on the lever and sent the TARDIS to its instructed coordinates.

"Where are we going?" she asked suspiciously, though remained intrigued by his sudden mysteriousness. It had been so long since he had taken her anywhere, she nearly forgot the excitement that accompanied the ship's signature clatter of time travel. The TARDIS landed almost as quickly as it dematerialized, the sound of its thudded landing alerted them to their intended arrival.

"Ask and you shall receive," he answered, returning his lips to hers. Taking a firm hold of her waist, he hurried to guide her back towards the ship's entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they burst their way through the doors straight into her flat. She laughed and yelped with surprise as he gracefully lifted and tossed her onto the bed. Standing above her, he threw off his coat and kicked off his shoes. She took the liberty of lifting her blouse over her head to relieve herself of it. He watched intently as she reached towards him and began unfastening the buttons on his vest then moved on to his shirt underneath. Helping her part ways with the rest of his clothing, he then climbed up onto the bed as she seized the opportunity to slide out of her skirt. Bringing his lips to hers, he slowly lowered her onto the bed and carefully pressed himself on top of her as if to prevent her from escaping.

He could feel her temperature rising beneath him the more passionately he kissed her. He was unable to help himself from being drawn to her intoxicating fragrance; a divine perfume of perfectly balanced femininity and fertility. His increased sensitivity to her reproductive desires was made even more aware by their strong bond to each other. The maternal mix of chemicals inside every cell in her body were exploding with sexual energy. The untamed animalistic side of him had become infatuated by her pheromones, his senses lured in by the irresistible scent of her body's heat-cycle urging her to conceive. He could feel himself losing all control. No matter how desperately he fought, there was nothing he could do to stop it. They were doomed to be enslaved by their illness' command.

He knew as long as the virus retained its hold over their minds, he would never be able to break free of his relentless desire to impregnate her. Just as she would never be able to sustain her maternal appetite for bearing his child for as long as she still could. A concept more concerning than he had given credit. His companion may in fact be a young female still in her prime, but she was still human. If he failed in his attempt to break them out of their loop, they would spend the rest of their infected lives trapped inside of this altered reality. As tempting as it would be to continue the relationship they created together, eventually there would come a time when Clara could no longer carry a child for him. What then? What would happen to her if she was unable to fulfil the obligations of her own mind? Of course, deep down, he already knew the answer to that whether he chose to admit it or not. He was no stranger to how the snare functioned within its victims. Those who were unfortunately selected to be a carrier of the virus were often driven to insanity after completing the task set out for them. Like trying to scratch an unscratchable itch until all the flesh had been scraped down to the bone, and yet the sensation still remained. Which was another reason why the Persuaders were considered so deadly. Clara had absolutely no idea what she was up against. All she knew was there was an incessant longing to fill the emptiness inside of her with new life that could only be tamed by him. The only way to prevent his companion from going mad before her age caught up with her was to try to teach her how to fight her urges - or give her what she wanted. She was only just beginning to gain back her strength after giving birth. Whatever sensible part of him was still remaining would not allow himself to put her through that again, especially if they were forced into battle against Missy. It would be far too dangerous.

He quickly pulled himself from her lips and gasped for breath. "Clara, wait. We need to stop," he blurted out without even realizing it.

"What, already?" she asked disappointedly. Her glance instinctively shifted to the area below his waist, "For a Time Lord, you sure do expire quickly."

"No, not that," he replied defensively. His mind worked quickly to find a way to tell her the truth without revealing the fact that he wasn't entirely in control of himself, and neither was she. It would raise far too many questions, questions that in his cowardice he wasn't yet ready to answer. "It's much too soon, you're still healing," he continued, hoping she would be understanding of his concern for her well-being. He cradled her head in his grasp and looked to her sincerely, "I don't wish to hurt you."

A coy smile spread across her lips as she leaned in towards his neck. "Be gentle then," she whispered into his ear, unwilling to abandon the much-anticipated intimacy taking place between them. She had waited for this moment for too long to allow it to slip through her fingers so easily.

"Clara," he started, trying his hardest to resist her increasing affections. "As much as I want this, and believe me I do, I'm afraid you've become far too susceptible to your biological impulses towards me," he explained poorly, starting to realize how badly he was failing at gaining control of the situation.

She leaned away to see his face and frowned at his choice of words. "Not sure how I feel about your expertise on the subject," she argued, then curiously raised her brow. "What do you mean 'susceptible'?"

He sighed and tried to find the words to respond that would sound the least impersonal. "Well, for one, your body has already begun the process of preparing itself for conception. I am able to sense the changes taking place inside of you through our bond. Which is reason enough for us to be keeping our distance from each other, else we may have another tiny problem on our hands," he declared, lightly patting her tummy as if to provide a gentle reminder of how their daughter came into existence in the first place. Taking a deep breath, he silently scolded himself for having fallen victim to his lust for her once again, "I shouldn't have brought you here, this was a mistake." He watched as her expression quickly shifted from provocatively inquisitive to mildly wounded. It was never his intention to upset her, he only wished to protect her from himself and what he knew they were capable of so long as the virus remained in control of their actions. The longer he remained in her presence the less authority he had over his own impulses. He placed his hand on her cheek and looked to her compassionately. "Please, try to understand. Being away from you is the last thing I would ever want. But if we aren't careful, you could be with child again before I can even get us out of this mess. We're still at war, Clara. Now is not the time for us to become so careless."

The fire within her grew in strength by his words of warning as if it were demanding she disobey. She felt every bit of its intensifying heat brought to life by the thought of what their lust for each other could cause. She no longer recognized herself as her mind became clouded by how badly she wanted to feel him inside of her again. As her hand gently trailed its way down his bare chest and stomach, she could feel a part of him pressing against her thigh. She raised her brow and smiled up at him seductively, "It would seem one of us is eager to become careless more than they're letting on." Her hand explored farther down his body until she found herself carefully caressing him between his legs. The part of her that would have been shocked by her own actions had been replaced by that of her strong sexual depravity longing for his affection.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head in submission, groaning softly at the sensation of her grasp on him. His mind shattered into a million pieces as she took control. He felt his entire body tremble with arousal. The ability to think rational thoughts was now under threat as his primal instincts awakened to the heat of their passion. His hearts became filled with hunger and lust for her once more. There was nothing in the universe powerful enough to stop it. The desire to fill her and protect her as she grew heavy by him consumed him. The only thing preventing him from ensuring his seed had taken root inside of her before the night's end was his fear of the immediate danger bound to follow as a result of his actions. Putting a child in her now would only give Missy that much more of an advantage over him. "Clara, please," he whispered, hoping there was some part of himself still able to resist his own impulses before they forced him to do something he shouldn't have. He needed to stop himself before the animal trapped inside tore its way through his defences to take control over their intimacy. The more he tried to hold it back the more he could feel it stirring within the cage that imprisoned it. "We must stop," he begged her.

She returned her lips to his neck and gently nipped at his skin before kissing her way towards his ear. "And if we don't?" she asked softly, no longer in command of her own sexual prowess as she positioned herself between his legs and delicately pressed her hips into him.

Every bit of restraint within him was annihilated the moment he felt himself brush up against her entrance. Her seductive advances had driven him far beyond the edge of all reason. The beast had finally awoken. His felt his eyes snap open. His hand reached out and took her firmly by her chin to stop her. "Then I might be tempted to give you exactly what your body desires of me," he threatened. His gaze stared back at her fiercely to warn her of just how serious he was. She had absolutely no idea what she was asking of him nor did she fully understand the gravity of what he was about to do to her.

The feel of his grasp on her was both frightening and yet strangely erotic. She had seen that look in his eyes before. It was the very same that burned into her memory not so long ago as the visions of their euphoric love for each other flashed into her mind. The longer she thought about them the more authentic they appeared. She realized this was the truth he had been hiding from her all this time, the part of himself he would not allow her to see for fear of hurting her. This is what he looked like when he lost himself in his passion for her, and she wanted more. As terrified as she should have been of the person he was becoming, a deeper part of herself buried somewhere beneath her layers of denial wanted to know just how far his lust for her would take them. There was only one person in the universe able to extinguish the fire burning so brightly inside of her, and that person was him. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, "I might be tempted to let you."

He found himself shocked and bewildered by her confession. Glancing towards his hand, his hearts became filled with distress over the aggressive hold he claimed on her face. He slowly released her and took a moment to compose himself before he unintentionally damaged her any further. He calmed his mind and allowed himself to come to terms with what she was asking him to do. He took a deep breath and peered down the length of her until his eyes met with her middle. He slowly slid his hand down her belly and carefully pressed it above the part of her that had ripened with fertility. A small gasp escaped her lips as he rubbed soothing circles over the place that once swelled with his child. Her breathing deepened the more he wooed her into maternal submission. He could feel her muscles contracting under his palm, her pulse began to quicken. The heat rising between her legs quickly claimed his attention. His mind was in torment over how close he was to seeding her and how badly her body was begging him to. Bringing his lips to her neck, he trailed tender kisses down her smooth skin and took in her scent for all it was worth. "Is that what you want?" he whispered, concentrating all of his energy towards conditioning her for reproduction. "Do you wish to carry again so soon? Would that please you?"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Doctor?" she inquired provocatively.

"Is it working?" he asked as his lips made their way down her chest.

"Yes," she spoke softly, feeling even more aroused by his intimidating power over her.

"Tell me what you want, Clara," he begged her. "I'll do anything you ask if only to satisfy you."

"I want you, Doctor. It has only ever been you," she replied breathlessly, feeling the sensation of his lips enticing her as they moved farther down her stomach.

Lifting his gaze, his eyes met her hungry expression. "Are you sure?" he asked, offering her one last chance to change her mind before the last bit of himself left untainted by the virus had finally been consumed.

"I'm sure," she confirmed, tenderly placing her hands on the sides of his head to guide his lips back to hers.

The familiar taste of her lingered upon him as they kissed. His senses had long since lost the battle for sanity as they continued to explore each other. His hearts pounded in his chest as he instinctively positioned himself at her entrance. His hand moved lower down her body to gently stimulate her before the rest of himself slowly slid its way inside. He softly moaned with pleasure as every bit of her warmth embraced him.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion and quietly winced at the unanticipated sensation of soreness and pain residing within her since she had given birth. Grasping his shoulder, she momentarily stopped him from proceeding any farther. "Be gentle with me, Doctor," she pleaded, exhaling a deep breath to soothe her mind from her sensitivity to him.

"Always," he replied adoringly. He waited patiently, allowing her all the time she required to prepare herself, then felt her opening wider to accommodate for him. Once ready, she nodded confidently and released the tension built up within her. Seizing his opportunity, he succumbed to his own tactical torment as he carefully penetrated her. All he could think about was what he needed to do to fulfil the obligations of his illness. The fine line between pleasure and strategy was never more apparent than it was right then. Each push brought him closer to his objective of creating new life inside of her. A task easily championed by his dominance over her vulnerable state of mind. As the virus continued to take control over his actions, his thoughts were once again flooded with images of the night she had been forced to conceive his child. The start of everything that had been and would be that even he could not avoid.

As he was pulled between one reality and another, a new set of visions were introduced that had yet to be seen. A bed, much like this one, and his companion lying partially unclothed beneath him. She smiled up at him brightly as he admired her from above. He saw himself peering down the length of her, his hand gliding its way up her bare thigh towards her hip. Continuing to her middle, he delicately slid his hand under her shirt to reveal the newly formed swell of her tummy hiding underneath. He gently brushed his fingers over the part of her just barely radiating with new life and smiled fondly. The return of her maternal glow was simply breathtaking. The Persuader's snare was flawless in design. Each new vision of her felt so real, he was unable to determine which reality he was currently living in. There was no way to know for certain if the images were merely the illusory byproduct of his illness or a glimpse into the future. All he knew was how badly he wanted it to be true.

The sound of her gasping with euphoria pulled him back to the moment between them. He discovered her legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, her hand had woven its way through his hair to gently seize it in her grasp. Their bodies glistened in the light provided as they fell deeper into their passion. He noticed fresh tears upon her face but realized they were not being caused by pain. He reached out to caress her cheek in his palm and wipe her tears away as he pushed himself deeper inside of her. She opened her eyes at his delicate touch, her entrancing gaze met his own as if she were pleading for more. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her pleasure. He was prepared to give her everything he had left to give, no matter the cost. He was so terribly in love with her.

Clara caught herself staring up at the shadows draped across her ceiling as if she had never seen them before. Her arm was loosely wrapped around her lover's head as she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through the strands of his silver hair. His head was rested against her chest as he listened in to the calming sound of her heart beating beneath him. Her thoughts teetered between the events of the evening and the soothing sensation of his thumb stroking the surface of her middle. "I've missed this," she finally spoke, breaking the silence in the room.

"Me too," he admitted, taking in her scent as his glance drifted towards the sight of his hand resting low on her belly.

"It smells so different in here. I almost forgot what the rest of the world smelled like beyond metal consoles and chalk dust."

"Now that you mention it, there does seem to be a particular Clara-esque aroma floating around in here," he noted.

"If that's code for I could do with a wash, I'm going to smack you," she threatened playfully.

"I'm glad you brought that up. I was worried I would have to break it to you," he teased her.

"Shut up," she hushed him, covering his mouth with her hand. She felt him quietly laugh against her and attempted to ignore his humour. Taking a look around the room, she tried to remember how it felt to have lived and breathed a normal life within those walls. "It's so strange being back here again," she continued. "I wonder how long I've been gone."

Lifting her hand from his face, he kissed it tenderly and held it in his grasp as he removed himself from under her arm. "Well, that depends," he started, shifting to her side and supporting his head with his other arm as he looked to her. "Technically speaking, I'd say about four months, give or take a day or two. Realistically, a few hours."

She attempted to wrap her head around his words, finding it difficult to grasp the fact that so little time had passed on Earth when so much had happened to her since she had last been seen by another human being. As far as anyone else was concerned, she was still grieving over the loss of her recently departed boyfriend while her body continued to expand with the growth of another man's child. As much as wanted to see her friends and family again, even if only to hear their voice, she couldn't even begin to imagine what to tell them. The more she thought about it the more she realized the Doctor was right. They shouldn't have come back here. The memories were far too painful. Distracting herself, she took a moment to look around the room as if searching for anything out of the ordinary. "Should we even be here? Won't that like, I dunno, implode the universe or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, "it's a bedroom, not a black hole." His eyes scanned the room as if taking into consideration that they had crossed beyond the point of safety by leaving the ship and were currently vulnerable to the outside world. "But just to be safe, perhaps it would be best if we didn't extend our stay any longer than we have to."

"Is there time to put the kettle on?" she asked with a bit of excitement. "I haven't had a decent cup in ages."

"What are you suggesting, that the TARDIS isn't capable of making tea?" he eyed her playfully. "You two have never gotten on, have you?"

"Or maybe she just never liked sharing," she countered with a smile. "Can't say I blame her though, you're quite the catch."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Oswald," he smiled back.

"Good, I'll only be a minute then," she assured him. She placed her hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Rolling to the side, she removed herself from the bed and rummaged around the floor for something a bit more than her nudity to wear. Finding his shirt, she placed it on and flipped her hair out from under the collar. "I hope you don't mind. Mine seems to be rather, um, misplaced at the moment."

"It looks better on you anyway," he stated, admiring her from the bed.

"A compliment? That's new. Someone's being naughty," she grinned.

"I wouldn't dare," he replied with a smirk.

Returning to the bed for just a moment, she braced her hands on the surface and leaned down to kiss his cheek before taking her leave of the room. Heading towards the kitchen, she passed through the hall and entered the small space. She quickly located the kettle sitting idly atop the counter and began to prep it. As she waited for the water to boil, she took a moment to look around the familiar place as if she were peering into a part of her past. She ran her hand along the utensils and appliances as if trying to remember how it felt to have utilized the space for its intended purpose. She recalled each and every unsuccessful attempt at making her mother's soufflé, the countless number of good times with her closest friends, the laughs she had laughed and the tears she had cried. All the memories of her previous life were there waiting for her return.

After a moment, she sensed the Doctor's presence approaching her from behind and assumed he was there to check on her. Leave it to him to worry about potential danger lurking about in the cupboards. She felt the warm sensation of his hands reaching around her waist to caress her middle as he pulled her closer to him. She leaned herself against him and allowed him to explore every bit of how different she must feel in his grasp now that she was no longer expanding with his child. "Did you miss me being so small in your arms?" she asked coyly.

"You've always been desirable to me. Even more so when you're carrying," he answered, breathing her in.

She lowered her glance to where his hands were protectively pressed over the place their child once flourished and smiled fondly, "Are you so eager to see me like that again?"

His lips found their way to her cheek and kissed her tenderly. "As many times as you wish," he whispered, slowly rubbing her between her hips as if encouraging her body to embrace the essence of life he placed inside of it. His paternal desire to ignite the spark of motherhood within her was far too enticing. His powers of persuasion over her were desperate to feel the electricity and warmth emanating from within her once more, knowing it would only be a matter of time before she'd start to show. The part of him that should have been ashamed of himself for putting her at risk of another pregnancy during this dangerous time was greatly outweighed by his eagerness to share this life with her. To be able to care for her and their children, to protect them.

The sensation of his hands on her body attempting to lure her in reawakened the arousal within her. Placing a gentle hand over his, she took a deep breath and cleared her mind hoping to take command over her diminishing willpower. "Well, Doctor Careful, if you keep that up, it may happen sooner than we expected," she replied, softly reminding him of his warning against her carrying another child for him while they were still at war.

"Yes, well, maybe the next one won't grow up trying to discover the best way to kill us," he added.

"The next one?" she asked, turning towards him to read his expression carefully. "You actually sound as if you want this to be a thing. Do you?"

He inhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment about his answer. She hadn't made the decision to choose between their two possible futures any easier on him, but he couldn't deny the fact that one was far more desirable over the other. "Maybe so."

She smiled and felt her cheeks flush brightly as his intimate confession became the headline of her thoughts. "Are you trying to charm me into having another baby with you, Doctor? Or is this your nostalgia from the last time you pollinated me speaking for you?"

Grinning sheepishly at the question, he removed his hands from her middle and gently turned her around to face him. His arm wrapped around the small of her back as his other hand tenderly lifted her head by her chin to meet his gaze. "Perhaps it's both," he admitted sincerely, matching her wide smile with his own.

"Oh? And what about Missy?" she asked, raising her brow.

"What about her?"

"Aren't we still at war? Don't we still have a mission to complete?"

"That could be ages from now!" he exclaimed childishly. "There's no telling what we could accomplish before then. Who knows. By the time we finally get around to it, perhaps we'll have created an entire army together," he grinned, holding her tightly against him.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," she noted with a laugh. "A Time Lord with baby fever, now there's something you don't see every day. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were under a spell," she implied harmlessly.

He felt his smile quickly fade away as his guilt of keeping her in the dark about their illness returned to the surface of his mind. He could not, nor wished to fault her for her accusation in this matter. She was purely innocent. It was the virus' control over them that deserved the full force of his rage. As he peered down at her brightly lit expression, he realized he no longer recognized who he was anymore nor could recall what his old self would have done in this situation. Perhaps he would have already chosen the path to save them from the grip of their altered reality at the cost of their relationship by now. But now that everything had been left up to this version of himself, being forced to choose between their two futures was tearing him apart. The Clara he knew would never have allowed him to become so selfish. The moment she would have discovered the existence of their illness, she'd have found a way to successfully do away with herself to save them long ago. She was so much stronger than him in nearly every way, which was the main reason he knew he'd never be able to bring himself to tell her the truth.

Willing a small smile to his face, he leaned down and lovingly kissed her forehead. "Don't be long," he finally replied. Looking to her one last time, he reluctantly released his hold on her then took his leave of the room before he had fallen apart in front of her any further.

Clara tried to determine what she said that suddenly darkened his mood but was easily distracted by the sound of the kettle finally whistling beside her. She took the time to prepare her cup then exited the small space. Returning to the hallway, her feet were comfortably reacquainted by the vibrant red carpet guiding the way in either direction. A rather nice change from the cold metallic flooring she was used to. Her attention was pulled towards the portraits of her family hanging up on the wall. She smiled as she approached them. Her fingers grazed along the surface of their frames as if she had never actually taken the time to look at them before. Finding her way to the living room, she leaned against the threshold and casually sipped her tea. As she glanced around the tiny room, her focus was drawn towards the coffee table sitting in the middle of the floor. Atop its surface sat a singular chess piece, one she had never seen before. "Doctor?" she instinctively called out to him from the doorway.

After a moment, he approached her from the bedroom. His hands worked to fasten his belt and trousers around his waist as he returned to her. "What's wrong?" he asked, taking notice of the worried expression on her face.

"Was that there before?" she inquired, gesturing towards the unfamiliar game piece.

Following her gaze, he felt his face frown as his eyes met with the object in question. "Seriously? Have you seen this place?" he asked, raising his arms out from his sides to call attention to the mess around him. "Frankly, I'd be surprised if there wasn't a body buried in here somewhere. Let alone a chessboard."

"Very funny," she replied, frowning at his humour. "Except that I don't own a chessboard."

"Are you sure? Perhaps you just never noticed it under all the clutter," he suggested.

Annoyed by the accusation, she squinted her eyes in his direction, "I'm sure."

His brows furrowed suspiciously as his interest became piqued by the apparent mystery unravelling before them. Entering the room, he headed towards the object and cautiously reached for it as if it might explode upon contact. Assuring himself it was not a danger to them, he picked it up and brought it closer for inspection. Twirling the piece around in his hand, he quickly identified it as a pawn. A smile quickly spread across his face as he suddenly realized who left the mysterious gift there for them to find.