Clara Oswald slid down the wall to the floor, her head falling back as a defeated huff escaped her. She kicked of her heels and rubbed her sore feet and aching calves. If she had to dig her way through one more room in this bloody ship, she would scream. It was her own fault for listening to the Doctor. All she wanted was a couple of Christmas decorations, not a hike! Was that too much to ask for?

She had been set to decorate her apartment for the upcoming season this morning when she realised that she had left them all in her Gran's attic when she stayed with her last year. Knowing her Gran, she had most likely already put the decorations up and Clara wasn't about to go over and tear them down. She had been sat in the TARDIS, attempting to convince herself to buy some new ones but she really didn't feel like battling her way through the holiday madness for a few baubles. That was when the Doctor offered her an old box of decorations he had lying around, left by a previous companion who had attempted to bring some festive cheer to the big blue box.

"Take a right, then a left, then another left and it's the second door on the right. You can't miss it."

That had been an hour ago. She had followed his directions to a t, only to find that there was no boxes in the second room, only stacks of clothes. She circled back on herself to make sure she hadn't missed a turning, and that was where it all went wrong. One turn led to another long corridor full of possible doors, then another, and another. She dug her way through old machine parts, never ending piles of books, even through what seemed to be a giant greenhouse.

And now she was here. She had finally given up when her legs began to burn, slumping on the floor in defeat. She let her eyes droop closed, so much for a productive day decorating.

"What on earth have you been up to?"

Clara looked up to the Doctor with his arms pressed up against the wall above her as he leaned over her, staring down at her in confusion. She glared up at him as she started pushing her feet back into her shoes.

"I've been looking for your bloody decorations!" she growled as she held her hand up toward him.

"Is that all? You could have asked me to get them instead of wandering off on your own like that. I thought you'd fallen of the edge of a cliff or something," he huffed as he took hold of hr outstretched hand and hoisted her to her feet. In the TARDIS, that notion didn't seem entirely impossible.

He sighed and started down the corridor, "Come on. Let's go get your decorations."

Despite her sour mood and aching feet, Clara smirked as his grip tightened on her hand as he led her further into the ship. The Doctor hadn't seemed to notice that he hadn't let go of her hand yet. Or he didn't mind the contact, either way, Clara wasn't going to say anything about it. Instead she revelled in the warmth of his hand in hers.

ONE HOUR LATER

The Doctor and Clara both slumped against the wall as they fell to the floor, exhausted.

"I could have sworn I left them in there," the Doctor huffed, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt as a single bead of sweat trickled down his brow as he frowned.

Clara groaned as her head fell back against the wall, she might as well face the inevitable. Grunting at her aching muscles as she struggled to her feet.

"Come on," she sighed as she stretched her hand out towards the Doctor. He looked at her, confused as he used her arm to pull himself up.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Into battle. We're going to buy some Christmas decorations."