Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I just decided to play with them for a bit. They are owned by the BBC, respectively.
Human Holiday Decorating Tradition
On a cold December afternoon, Clara Oswald's festively decorated flat was empty. A rare silence and serenity that was quickly broken by the materializing TARDIS.
The doors of the big blue box flew open and the Doctor and Clara emerged. Clara breathed out a small, content sigh once both feet hit the hallway floor. She quickly moved to her living room, kicked off her shoes, flipped a switch so that the room lit up with color, and proceeded into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
The Doctor made his way into her living room, glancing around at all of the fairy lights, the brightly colored baubles, and the perfectly curled ribbons hanging around him. They were pleasant, cozy, warm, and inviting. A bit like Clara herself, really, the Doctor noted.
Clara came back into the room and plopped herself down onto her sofa. She looked up at the Doctor and patted the cushion beside her. He obliged, placing his arm around her shoulders as he situated himself on the piece of furniture.
Clara grasped his dangling hand with her own. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles over the back of his worn hand. She looked up at him, big brown eyes sparkling with happiness.
"So, Christmas on Earth this year, eh? Kind of unusual for us, but I certainly don't mind." She turned her head to bury her face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He was warm, comfortable.
The Doctor nodded in agreement with her statement. "Yes, an uneventful, calm, Earth Christmas with the woman I love. A nice change of pace will do us both some good."
He angled his head down and placed a kiss on her temple.
"You did such a lovely job decorating this year, my Clara. It's beautiful."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"The tree, the garlands, the bows, the lights. Splendid. For a human tradition, that is."
Clara rolled her eyes, lifted her head off his shoulder, and playfully smacked him in the arm. "Oh, shut up!"
A smirk grew on the Doctor's face. "But the absolute best human holiday decorating tradition," he pointed above the archway entrance into the kitchen, "is that."
Clara looked to where he was pointing before it registered. "The mistletoe?"
The Doctor's smirk grew a bit devious. "Oh, yes, Clara. The mistletoe."
He jumped right up off the sofa, spun around to face her, grabbed her hands, pulled her up with him and playfully dragged her underneath.
Clara, with a glint in her eye, laughed, "Doctor, now why could this possibly be your favorite human holiday decorating tradition?"
His response was practically a growl, "let me show you why."
His arms twisted around her waist, her hands wound into his hair, and he leaned down to place a kiss on her lips. It was slow, heated, and it made Clara a bit weak in the knees. She was used to his kisses. He kissed her every day. But not every kiss felt like this. Heaven. More so than usual.
Completely engrossed in their kiss, they couldn't even hear the kettle whistling from its place on the stove.
Notes: This was written in about an hour or so. Just a bit of festive fluff, short and sweet, I hope. Merry Christmas!