It had been perfect. As perfect as it could be, the Doctor imagined. He'd gone through his fair share of Christmas dinners, sometimes a few in one day – just for the hell of it – but settling down with Clara in a pub for a fish dinner on Christmas night somewhere in northern Norway was… perfect.

"I suppose I'm speaking Norwegian," she teased, leaning back in the booth and giving him a sly grin as she jabbed another piece of cod onto her fork to bring to her lips.

He smirked, telling her plainly, "Technically, you're still speaking English, the Tardis is translating."

"Bit odd," she admitted, "I don't think about it, but when I do – it's a bit odd. Does that ever stop working? I mean, d'you ever get stuck in a place and it just doesn't translate and then you have to work off your cunning and your wit?"

With a shrug, he told her, "It could happen," then he added, "But a lot of things could happen that I'm not entirely prepared for. Generally things happen that I'm not prepared for. Actually, usually things happen that I'm not prepared for," he stopped, then grinned as he continued, "But what's the fun in travelling the universe if you've got a manual and a list of things to check off – the unprepared for is much more interesting."

Clara considered his words with a smile, looking down at the food on her plate and agreeing, "Christmas in July, in Norway, thirty years ago. Not what I expected when I woke up this morning."

"And isn't it splendid?"

She laughed and he relaxed, leaning back against the cushion to watch her shake her head, her cheeks going pink with some unspoken thought as she finished her dinner. "Wait," she suddenly gasped, "We're in Norway. In December."

"Yes," he nodded, then furrowed his brow and looked away, "What."

"The Northern lights – we could see them!"

He could see a twinkle in her eye, one that occurred whenever he'd managed to reach a destination that could be checked off of her list. Her 101 Places to go. And he grinned deviously, "Would you rather see it from the ground, or from space? Or I could do a quick search, take you to the best viewing spot on the best day in all of history for a demonstration of good old Aurora borealis."

Shifting forward, she chuckled and told him plainly, "I just want to see them tonight, however they are."

They finished their meal and then she watched him have a quiet discussion with their waitress before he moved to the door, giving her a small nod of his head. Clara hooked her arm in his and they began walking in the snow, as he explained, "Turns out we're not quite far from a good spot."

She giggled, fingers gripping his arm before she exclaimed, "I can't believe I'm going to see them… and this close. I hope it happens tonight."

"Clara," he began, then stopped, turning to frown at her, "You're freezing."

Chin trembling slightly, she shook her head, "It's ok, Doctor. We'll see the lights for a bit and head back to the warmth of the Tardis."

But he shrugged out of his coat, wrapping it quickly around her before she could protest, and holding it together snugly at her neck with a grin. "Time Lord," he offered, "I don't feel the cold as easily as a human."

"Us humans," Clara teased, "Never quite measuring up to your standards."

With a shake of his head, the Doctor sighed, "Clara, you're often the standard to which I hold the universe," then he straightened and added, "Humans, most of the time."

With a nod, she slipped her arms into the jacket and grinned up at him as he sheepishly turned away to continue leading them towards where she could already see a greenish hue to the sky. "Where are we going?"

He charged ahead, feet sloshing through the snow, and then he stopped and as Clara moved to stand at his side, her mouth fell open. They'd been at the base of a cliff and over the edge she could see the swirls of green, bruised red at their tops, shifting slowly in the distance.

"Humans," he whispered, "Capable of seeing the magic in a few high-energy electrons colliding with oxygen and nitrogen, even after they've learned that's all it is."

Clara smiled up at him, grabbing hold of his arm again and inching closer to him. "And you? Don't tell me the thought isn't there – just at the back of your mind – that this is magical."

"This is magical," he sighed, hand coming up to cup her cheek lightly.

"Suppose you speak magic," she breathed.

He tilted forward slightly and told her gently, "You can't really speak magic, Clara… you just…" she stopped him by meeting his lips with hers. For a moment he was still, terrified, but then he felt her lips part slightly against his and he melted into it, tasting her slowly, breath held as she sighed against him, hand coming up to grip his waistcoat. The Doctor turned towards her, burying his hand in her hair as he moaned lightly against the sensation of their tongues dancing effortlessly against one another much like the lights in the sky.

And then she shifted back, face reddened, smile tantalizing as she leaned against him and looked out at the lights, telling him quietly, "It's beautiful."

Watching her, arm wrapping around her tightly, he sighed in response, "It is."