A/N: A friend asked me to write a Whouffaldi wedding, so here we are.

'Til Death Do Us Part

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Her heart started beating.

Clara placed two fingers on her wrist and her eyes went wide.

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"…but… but how…?" she marveled. Glancing around, she saw that nothing was vanishing, nothing collapsing upon itself, nothing disappearing from time or space. "I… I don't get it. You saw me, there, in the trap street. I died before your eyes."

"The moment you were extracted, a temporary shell was put into place as sort of like a save point," the Doctor explained. He was rushing around the TARDIS controls, attempting to fly with the millennia-old configurations. "It formed when we closed the door, as it only works if the extraction subject willingly enters the chamber so that genetic information can be duplicated and a body stays in the place of 'death' in case of an accident while extracted, so on and so forth."

"You mean, that wasn't me you saw die?"

"Well, it was you, sort of like a copy, or an echo—" He stopped on the other side of the console and stared at her from across it.

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"…which means I'm alive."

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"Yes, Clara Oswald," the Doctor said. He slowly walked around the console to her, picked up her hand, and kissed it, just as he had done—gosh—how many millions upon millions of years ago already? Her eyes, so wide and brown, stared at him in shock.

"What if… what if I was ready?"

"If you were truly ready, then you wouldn't have come to me at the extraction point."

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"I used the extraction chamber because I knew it had been done before—they say it will break the universe so that people aren't using it left and right. It's dangerous, yes, but it's not time-and-space-ending."

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"I don't know if I've ever met a more insufferable man than you," she said, choking back tears. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in for an assuring hug. "You should have left me dead."

"You know I don't cope with loss very well."

"One of your better qualities, I would say."

They both chuckled lightly, not sure where to go from there. Clara gently pushed away and gazed up at him, looking deep into his pale eyes. While they were the same heavy-lidded, brow-dominated, adoring eyes as they were before, there was a different quality to them. Different, yet not.

"Four-point-five billion years," she said.

"Yeah." His voice was thin and cracked.

"…and you had a man regenerate into a woman."

"…it's like the flu for humans."

"Come here, Doctor Idiot."

She reached up and yanked his face down, initiating a very solid snog. There was only a moment's hesitation between when their lips made contact and when he placed his own knobby hands on either side of her face, kissing back tenderly.

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They were both alive.

While Me was not necessarily shocked that Clara and the Doctor showed up on the trap street only moments after the confession dial consumed the latter, Rigsy definitely needed a strong cuppa afterwards. All Clara had to do was touch her bio-shell and it disintegrated, leaving no cleanup or nasty paradoxes for the universe to deal with later on. Me was left with a severe warning and the threat of having the medkit extracted from her head the old-fashioned way if she didn't start showing some foresight and straighten up her act, and off the travelers went, escorting Rigsy to the nearest café where the three of them could all sit down and assure Local Knowledge that everything was fine.

"What are we going to do about the… the… spaceship-thing?" Rigsy wondered. His hands were finally steady as he lifted the paper takeaway cup to his lips and took a sip.

"The TARDIS? Oh, she's a smart lass—she can find her way back to Clara's flat without a problem," the Doctor said. "Besides, it's probably good to have a little time apart. Don't want to be driving the ship bonkers, after all."

"Yeah, bonkers," Rigsy nodded. He stared across the table at Clara, unable to find the proper words for the levels of panic he was coming down from. "What are you going to do now?"

"Put that behind us, I think," she replied. "We now have time that almost got away—it should be used wisely."

"How do you propose that?" the Doctor asked.

"Hmm; you could make an honest woman out of me," she answered playfully.

"I never even made a dishonest woman out of you!" he gasped, feigning insult.

"I told my family one Christmas that you were Swedish—I think that's dishonest enough."

"That was the boyfriend," he argued, twirling his forefinger around his face. "This isn't your boyfriend."

"No, but it should be my husband."

"Should I leave you two alone…?"

"It's alright, Rigsy," Clara smiled. "It's a shame Lucy can't walk yet, or she'd be a perfect flower girl."

"The brilliant tiny human Local Knowledge made?" the Doctor asked, mood brightening considerably. "You know, I've got this device in the TARDIS that—"

"NO," Clara and Rigsy said together.

"Jen would absolutely kill me," Rigsy said.

"Jen? Who's Jen?"

"Rigsy's wife; Lucy's mother," Clara grumbled. "Do keep up."

"Wife? I don't see a ring," the Doctor huffed incredulously, attempting to divert the blame.

"Don't have 'em; was too concerned with affording a flat than affording jewelry," Rigsy scowled. "Lucy came along and that was it. We don't need them to know we're married."

"No?" the Doctor echoed, curious. "That's very admirable; rather advanced for pudding brains… then again, not just any ordinary pudding brain can produce such brilliance as your tiny human."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Rigsy deadpanned. He then turned towards Clara, leaning in to mutter. "How has no one strangled him yet?"

"Death to him is like the flu to us," she explained. "His body just does this thing and poof—new face, new body, unstrangled."

"…so if I committed actual murder right now it wouldn't technically be murder?"

"Don't let Ashildr hear that," Clara smirked. "She might not let you off that easy twice in one day."

If it got the Doctor to shut up and behave, Rigsy didn't care… it was worth the risk.

Luckily, Lucy began stumbling about on two legs before her first birthday, which meant that by the time she was fourteen months old, she was bouncing down a church aisle and chewing on the flower petals she was supposed to be tossing on the floor. Jen snatched her up into her arms at the very front of the church and held her hostage, preventing her daughter from eating any more petals, while the Doctor and Rigsy looked on with knowing smirks. They were up by the minister, the former in red and the latter in black, both refusing to show how deep their nerves were fraying. It had taken the human by surprise when the Time Lord had asked him to stand with him, yet it seemed only fair considering the amount of trouble they had needed to weather together.

Music swelled and the remainder of the attendees stood in respect for the bride as she walked down the aisle. Her dress was simple, white, and lacked a train to hold her down. Flowers were arranged in her hair, done so that it curled and flowed towards her shoulders with such elegance that even her stepmother cried. She approached the altar and grinned up at her soon-to-be-husband.

"Ready?"

"For what? Reaching a high shelf? You're a different height now," he teased. He took her hand in his and they faced the minister together.

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Clara's heart raced as she darted in and out of the battle, dodging arrows, shields, and swords alike. She slid as she made to grab a coronet that had fallen on the ground, bouncing back up into a full sprint once it was in her hands. The TARDIS appeared before her and she bolted in, allowing the door to close behind her.

"Got it!" she beamed as she held the item up triumphantly. "Lost in the battle no more!"

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"Excellent work, Clara—the Duchess will be thrilled that we found it," the Doctor said. He fiddled with some settings on the console and put the TARDIS back in the time vortex and away from the fighting. "I told her you had a knack for these things.

"Doubters beware the impeccable crown-finding skills of Clara Oswald," she giggled. She went to the Doctor and leaned into his side, allowing his arm to drape over her shoulders.

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Yup. It was just the same-old, same-old: the Doctor and Clara Oswald, running around across time and space in the TARDIS, and not even death would stop them.