"Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?" He asked and Clara stared at him in complete disbelief.

"The TARDIS?" She managed to stutter out. It had been a long day…

"No, the Titanic. Yes the TARDIS. C'mon love, I haven't got all day!" The Doctor yelled as they were both thrown about. Clara set to work in remembering how to fly the machine. She pulled a lever and the ship stopped shaking.

"The blue boringers," Clara smiled to herself

"Those are stabilisers, darling. Ah! I can remember now! Oh! Here we go!" The Doctor exclaimed as he flew the ship deftly and they landed with the signature groaning. The Doctor scratched his cheek and then looked towards the door.

"Well go on then!" he nodded and Clara remained rooted to the spot.

"How do I know that you're going to come back?" she asked, folding her arms. The Doctor sighed and then went to push his fringe back but frowned when he realised that it wasn't there. He put his hands on his head and his eyes widened when he felt his curly hair.

"Curly hair! Oh, this is the important bit. I've had to wait 400 years to do this," The Doctor said and then walked over to Clara and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. She flinched slightly but didn't move.

"Clara. Am I ginger?" he asked, staring right at her. The new eyes were different; they felt as if they were piercing into her very soul.

"No. You're grey," She declared and he frowned. He stood back and put his hands in to his pockets.

"Great. Just great. Honestly! Once! That's all I'm asking for! I'm not asking to become a Weasley!" The Doctor exclaimed, walking around the console. He did it in an awkward way, as if he was trying to take longer strides than his legs could manage.

"Who are you talking to?" Clara asked, trying not to smile at his last comment.

"I really don't know. And you! Clara Oswald! You've grown!" The Doctor said, comparing their height. Clara coughed poignantly and then looked up at him.

"I think you've shrunk," Clara smirked, knowing that would annoy him no end. His face fell into a glare, his bottom teeth showing as his lip fell and his eyes darkened. They were positively evil. Clara gasped and jumped back, not realising that there were stairs behind her. She fell down them, She landed on the ground and quickly scurried to get back up. That wasn't the Doctor.

"Well that was stupid. What did you go throwing yourself down the stairs for?" The Doctor asked, walking down the stairs to help her up.

"You. You stay away from me," Clara declared, trying to get away but her twisted ankle was preventing her from moving too fast.

"I'm not going to gobble you up! What's wrong?" The Doctor asked, opening his arms out questioningly.

"You're not The Doctor. You can't be. He would never look so…evil," Clara accused while backing away.

"You saw me change right in front of you! Don't be so stupid," The Doctor dismissed, folding his arms.

"Stupid! I'm sorry, alright? But you were just The Doctor and then…I dunno, you sneezed or something and then became you!" Clara exclaimed, pushing back her fringe.

"Sneezed! SNEEZED! I did a bit more than sneezing!" The Doctor yelled causing Clara to back away again. They stood in silence for a minute before Clara heard a low chuckle. She looked up and The Doctor was now laughing. It was a different laugh; lower, louder and more infectious as she found out. A smile spread out on her lips and then she started to laugh.

"I should win a Guinness World Record for that regeneration. That was a sneeze!" The Doctor laughed and Clara giggled.

"You are The Doctor. Sorry for saying that you weren't. It's just been a bit weird," Clara apologised and The Doctor nodded.

"Apology accepted. Now, I really fancy some turkey. Get out those doors, you," The Doctor said, opening the door and nodding for Clara to go out. She walked out and The Doctor quickly followed, shutting the TARDIS doors. He held his arm out for Clara to take but she looked up at him, biting her lip.

"Suit yourself," he dismissed, trying not to look hurt.

"Sorry. I just need to get used to you. And those huge eyebrows," Clara laughed and The Doctor's wide eyes widened further.

"No eyebrows, huge eyebrows, I can't win with you! And also, you can't pick fun of me yet, I haven't seen what I look like," he complained while they walked towards the block of flats.

"Says who?" Clara asked, raising her eyebrow

"Me!" He smiled. He folded his arms against the cold and was surprised when a small arm worked its way through his. He stopped and looked down at her while she smiled back up at him.

"The Doctor," she said, poking his side. To which he giggled like a little girl, causing her to burst out into laughter.

"I'm ticklish! Oh, great," he sighed while she hung off his arm laughing.

"I can't…breathe…," Clara choked out between laughter

"Very funny. I wonder where you're ticklish," The Doctor pondered and Clara immediately straightened up.

"You'll never get it," Clara declared, opening the door to the estate. They began to climb the stairs.

"I will!"

"No you won't!"

"Back of the knees?"

"Nope,"

"Elbow?"

"Elbow? Who's ticklish on their elbow? It's dead skin!"

"Good point! Armpits?"

"No,"

"Feet?"

"You are never going to get it. Admit it, you lost,"

"I will do no such thing,"

"Alright,"

"Alright,"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Tummy?"

Clara laughed and then stopped outside her flat where she could hear a blazing row going on inside. She sighed and then opened the door. The Doctor followed her but stayed behind in the hallway. She walked into the living room where her dad, step-mum and grandmother were having a huge argument.

"Clara! Where the hell have you been?" her step-mum asked and Clara blatantly ignored her.

"Are you alright, Gran?" Clara asked her grandma who was sitting down and staring into space.

"Oh Clara! You're back! Did everything work out with your boyfriend?" she asked and Clara hugged her.

"In a strange way, yes. You two, stop bickering, it's Christmas," Clara directed at her dad and step mum. They paused mid argument, Dave looking down ashamed.

"Can you tell your daughter to stop telling me what to do?" her step mum asked and Dave shook his head.

"Everyone, this is The Doctor," Clara said, pulling The Doctor from the hallway and into the living room. The other three gasped and Clara closed her eyes, pulling The Doctor to the side.

"You…you put clothes on, right?" Clara asked and The Doctor muttered a curse under his breath. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the three of them so they could see his clothes.

"Sorry about that. I'm the Doctor. I want some turkey," he explained and sat down in Clara's seat, carving himself a slice. He ate the slice while everyone watched him. He swallowed and then looked around the room.

"What are you all watching me for? Eat!" He said. Everyone sat down and Clara pulled up a chair next to him. There was a lively conversation bouncing around the table, her father and step mum having resolved their argument. Clara picked up a Christmas Cracker from the table and then pointed it at the Doctor. The Doctor looked at her and then slowly took the end of the cracker. She smiled weakly, brushing away a tear.

"Merry Christmas, Clara," he smiled, stroking her cheek and brushing away the escaped few tears.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor," she replied. The both pulled the cracker, The Doctor winning the bigger end. He pulled out the green hat and put it on his head. Clara laughed and took the cracker, pulling out a paperclip and the poem.

"A thought on Change, by Anon.

Without change,

Where would we be?

No doubt back

In 1963.

You think you die,

You say that every time.

You change, that's all,

So don't say goodbye.

I'll see you again,

As you'll see me.

But change is good.

Where shall we go, then?,"

Clara gingerly placed the poem on the table and then smiled up at The Doctor. He smiled back at her and then reached over and grabbed four roast potatoes and quickly devoured them.

"Someone hungry?" Clara nudged him and he nodded. She smiled and then took another gulp of her champagne. It had been a long day. She just wanted to climb into bed and sleep.

After dinner, Clara piled the dishes in the kitchen and sighed at the height of them. The Doctor was inside talking to her grandmother so Clara stepped outside to get some fresh air. It was strange to think that at the beginning of the day, The Doctor was the floppy haired bow tie wearing man and now he was the guy in the living room. Clara had no idea what to make of him. He had made her scared to death and laugh to death within a minute. He probably had no idea what to make of himself either. She leaned on the railing by the balcony, tapping a little rhythm onto the cool metal.

"Too much in there?" She heard the low Glaswegian voice ask as he joined her by the railing. He leaned on his forearm and then looked down at her.

"Too many dishes," she laughed and he chuckled.

"Do you still want to come with me?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Of course I do," she answered, putting readjusting her paper hat so that it didn't blow away.

"Mates?" he asked, holding his hand out for her to shake.

"Mates," she smiled, shaking it. She had to let that go now. That part of her that fancied the pants off him. Well, his former self. He got up to leave when Clara stopped him.

"Have you even seen yourself yet?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Not yet, no," he replied and Clara smirked. She covered his eyes and walked him into her bedroom in front of the full length mirror.

"Blimey, Clara. Didn't take long for you to break that mate's pact," The Doctor commented and Clara laughed.

"Shut up. Here's your fourteenth self," Clara introduced, taking her hands off his eyes. She stood in the corner, giving him this moment of privacy. The Doctor stood gawking at himself in the mirror for a minute before he could even think of anything to say.

"Well…I'm older. I look a bit like my fourth self! I like the eyes…the chin is less conspicuous… I look very angry. No wonder I scared you! But this jacket just won't do…," he sighed, tugging on the purple tweed. He ran a hand over his worn face and glanced at himself up and down again.

"What do you think?" he asked Clara

"Uh…I think you look different. Older," Clara commented.

"No shit, Sherlock," he scoffed. Clara noted that this regeneration liked to swear.

"Well then, better get started on those dishes," Clara clapped her hands together and The Doctor turned around, sighing.

"Fuck," he whispered, following her into the kitchen.

"Back of the ears!" He exclaimed, and tickled her behind her ears. She fell to the ground covering her head while laughing.

"Stop!" She asked, gaining her breath

"I win," he smirked, setting to work on the dishes.

Thanks for reading! I'm flitting between missing Matt to the point where it hurts and loving Peter Capaldi to bits. I really can't decide. Anyway, I tried to sort of have Clara have the same dilemma. Also, I did write the poem myself, I just didn't want to write my name.

Please review! Thanks :)