The rain was pouring down on nine-floor pagodas, making a strange almost melodic sound as the water hit their rounded roofs, swirled in many small holes only to fall down and hit the other one down below. It was already evening and little lights were turned on, but still illuminated streets only dimly. Two strangers out of this world were looking for their vehicle or some place to wait till the rain stopped, they were soaked through the bones, but not an inch seemed dry enough for them.

"Their roofs don't make sense," Clara was shaking from cold, clenching for the Doctor's wet sleeve for her dear life. "These people don't make sense."

"No, Clara," the Doctor winced as a drop fell from a hole and hit his nose. "They don't. But the music!" He smiled almost childishly, looking up to the sky, his ears twitching a bit to catch every note of it.

Clara had nothing against the music created by the rain. It was cheerful, it promised a sunny day for tomorrow, sounding like a childish cartoon tune played on xylophone. It easily stuck in her head, probably for a whole week.

But the thing was she was exhausted. People living here had been about to be wiped out by a mere accident, so it meant a lot of running and screaming and arguing with the Doctor, even yelling at him, and trying not to be killed; meanwhile these people had known nothing about what possibly could have happened to their peaceful place. Even right now, when the Doctor and she had been looking for the TARDIS, hungry and thirsty, injured and cold, they were about to get asleep. She envied them. Her heavy eyes were half closed, and that was the other reason she pierced into the Doctor's arm - it was a safe beacon back to her home.

"It's not long now," the Doctor said gently, feeling her tiredness through his sleeve. Seeing her shaking made his heart sank. He felt obliged to do something, perhaps to give her a coat, but then he'd be colder. He didn't want to catch a cold, he's unbearable when he's all snotty.

"I'm tired," Clara snuffled.

The Doctor heaved a long sigh, "Me too."

She gave him a compassionate glance he didn't miss but tried to avoid. He didn't need one, in fact he wasn't that tired as he looked, no, not a bit, not a single bit. He mustn't have told her that, now she must be feeling all caring and sympathetic, she'll get all fussy when they get back to the TARDIS.

Clara sneezed in the sleeve of her light jacket which was absolutely ruined and was no good protection from the rain. Great, the Doctor sighed, she caught a cold after all. That was all the gratitude she could have gotten from the planet they'd just saved.
She felt the Doctor's hand wriggling out of hers, and when she looked back at him to see what he was doing she saw a stretched out coat.

"Take it," when she didn't, too baffled to speak, the Doctor put it on her shoulders.

"But you?" Clara wanted to say something but he interrupted.

"Will be fine. Time Lord superpowers, remember?" he grumbled.

"There's no point in catching a cold together, Doctor."

"I'll be the judge of that," he snapped sharply. Another drop of water hit him, and he made a face.

The TARDIS welcomed them with a warm breeze, drying their soaked bones as Clara limped on the railing and the Doctor hit the space-time rotor with a bit of extra force. Clara watched him with squeezed eyes from where she was standing near the door. His vest was ruined, white shirt gave away his skin, short grey hair plastered on his head. She believed him when he had said he was tired because he looked like it. But instead of collapsing in a jump-seat, he was heading back to her.

"I'll just go and sleep it all off, okay?" Clara moaned. She wasn't sure she could do anything in her state.

"After bath and eating something, yes." He pulled off his coat from her and hanged it on the railing.

"Is it an order, mom?" she teased him. For the answer, he gave her a look that could mean god knows how many things, "You know, I'm not a child. I can manage on my own."

"I'm just saying that it's not nice of you to lay down with a cold when I have a whole week planned for us. I'm also saying you need to try your best to recover quicker." He tried to look angry but Clara could see through his veil – he was worried.

"Well don't you worry. I'm not going anywhere till we try out all what you have," she winked at him.

The Doctor was in the kitchen, wearing a fresh T-shirt and plain trousers, making a hot cocoa cup for Clara. He was thinking about what she had said an hour ago and knew everything was ruined. She had only a week-off at school, and having a time machine didn't mean her biological clock was stopped. No matter how tempting her words sounded to his ears, just close your eyes, shut down the voice of your conscience and let them have fun-time for once, they shouldn't trespass the given time. Even an extra day spent with him could confuse her and her colleagues at work, and, the Doctor closed his eyes and let a sigh, there'd been already too many of these extra days.

Well, if they couldn't do it his way, maybe they should try something peaceful on the board of the TARDIS. He didn't exactly fancy the idea, but they still had this week, a whole six days left, and all of them belonged to them. That's what at least she had promised him sixteen hours ago. And he wished she got well tomorrow.

"Feel any better?" The Doctor asked.

She didn't say anything, and the Doctor used the moment to suppress his clever smile.

"How did you know I was here?" He didn't need to look around to know she was impressed. "Well, if you had read some books about Time Lord superior biology you would have known that my back of neck is very sensitive for any fluctuation in the 4th dimension." He tried to sound nonchalantly, stirring the drink.

The Doctor waited for any reaction from Clara but there was none. In a moment, he felt her gentle hand touching his nape, carefully, as if it was the most delicate instrument. Not a reaction he waited for.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor felt as his whole body short-circuited just like every time she touched him without warning.

"Checking your superior biology," she said, scratching the nape a bit. "Cause everything you've just said sounded like a big white lie."

"Me? Lying? Never." The Doctor turned around and gave her the cup.

Then, he saw that she saw it, and couldn't hide a big thin smile from her.

"You saw me in a kettle reflection!" She exclaimed as the realisation dawned at her. "O-o-oh, that's clever!" She hid her pride smirk behind the cocoa cup. It wasn't for long as she put the cup aside and made several rough coughs.

"Seriously, how do you feel, Clara?" He turned on a worried look momentously.

"Terrible," she shrugged. Her little nose was in a drastic state and she was hardly stable on her feet. Her skin appeared milky white colour, her eyes impended to shut. She didn't look well enough to recover by tomorrow, screw the dinner too, all she needed was sleeping. As the Doctor realised that with a pity, he silently nodded.

"I'm sorry that a couple of our days is ruined. I know how you take our trips seriously. You must have planned every minute." She sneezed again, hiding her nose in pajama sleeve.

"Actually, yes, I have." The Doctor said trying not to blurt out his irritation. Seriously, these humans with their weak immune system just couldn't stay healthy for a week! Then, he got an idea. "But you can make it up to me."

She looked at him in disbelief, her eyes staring at him wide-open. "How?" That easy, the Doctor chuckled in his head. She was predictable after all.

No matter how you feel, don't go home just yet. Stay.

"Go to bed and rest," he said instead, clearing his throat nervously. "That's the best you can do for me." Then, he shrugged awkwardly.

Clara gave him a tired smile. That had been wise to say apparently. "How you didn't catch a cold – I don't get it."

"Time Lord superior biology."

"Ah, yes. Sorry, how could I have forgotten it."

"Indeed." The Doctor nudged her to the kitchen exit impatiently. "C'mon."

They were slightly surprised to see Clara's bedroom not so far away from the kitchen. The Doctor silently thanked his machine for such friendly consideration, despite what Clara used to say in her healthier state.

"I could have gone to bedroom on my own, you know." Clara chuckled.

"I..." the Doctor quickly came up with an excuse, "needed to be sure you won't stumble."

"Well, thank you very much."

"You're welcome." He averted his eyes from her and gulped. This was awkward, this was wrong, this... was laughable. He clearly didn't have a one reason to lead her to her own bedroom, no, actually, there was one reason, he wanted to see her one more time before she's gone for 9 hours, not like he would tell that her anytime.

And what was that feeling? It was all over him, a tinkle, light warm, as if his body became numb in one second and his brains waved on a sea of dreams and thoughts. He felt dizziness, he felt vulnerable. He grasped on to the wall to keep himself steady.
"Hullo? Doctor, is everything alright?" Clara was asking him like from the bottom of well.

She looked worried. Her eyes were big and watery, her mouth opened just a bit and there was a little knot between her smooth eyebrows. Why did she look worried? Had he done or said something wrong?

"Hey, why wouldn't you go with me?" She offered all of a sudden. "Why?"

"To make sure I won't stumble in my sleep."

She... stumble... in her sleep. Wait, wot?

"Is that a thing?" he questioned.

"Sometimes."

"You don't make sense."

"Says who?"

"Yeah, you got me there." He suddenly realised what it was that he felt. And maybe that's why they both didn't make any sense now. It was tiredness. And she was inviting him to share it together. Oh! No, wait, that's wrong, that's...

"C'mon," she held his wrist firmly before he could argue more and dragged inside her dark bedroom.

Surprisingly, he couldn't adjust his sight. But he could feel that Clara made him sit on the bed, her bed, and he felt most uncomfortably. What was on her mind right now, he wondered. Because whatever it was he was already totally against it.

"Clara..." he gave her a warning note when she got herself into the bed. "What are we doing?"

"I'm trying to get better." She sneezed in her pillow. "You're doing the same."

"But I'm okay."

"You're tired."

"I'm still okay."

"You being okay with being tired doesn't make me being okay with you being tired. Admit it, even for your Time Lord superior biology the day was rather tough."

"I didn't understand a thing of what you've just said." He jumped to get up but Clara pulled him down.

"I know what you're going to do right now."

"Really?"

"Yes. You'll go to the library to read something, or to the console room to break and then fix something, or you'll play by rules in Grand Theft Auto and then moan to me that you were killed again. The point is, you won't go to sleep your weariness off."

"So what if I won't?"

"If I got better tomorrow you wouldn't be ready for an adventure."

"Ah..." He said a bit softer. She knew which string exactly needed to be pulled to make him do what she needed.

With no other words he joined her in the bed.

"I promise I won't hug nor touch you," she said, doing exactly the opposite all the night.