"You really should be waking up too, Clara."

"Just a little longer."

"Why?"

"Every Christmas is last Christmas." Clara explained sadly.

"Well, look at you, all happy. That's rare," Clara said in a teasing voice. She was stumbling a bit as they dashed toward the TARDIS, those silly slippers she was wearing no doubt. The Doctor didn't care.

"Do you know what's rarer? Second chances. I never get a second chance, so what happened this time? Don't even know who to thank." The TARDIS thrummed in welcome as Clara stepped over the threshold. Even she seemed happy to have Clara back. Her lights warmed a bit from the cold blue.

"All of time, all of space. Still not arguing? There really are Christmas miracles aren't there?" He couldn't resist a little spin around the console as he entered in new coordinates. Clara still seemed a bit dazed, reaching out to touch the edge of the console almost hesitantly, like she still couldn't really believe it was there.

"No ice cream headache, then?" he asked her more gently. She shook her head then, and smiled at him.

"No ice cream headache." Her voice was a bit wistful, which confused him for a moment. He supposed she was thinking about Danny or the crabs or even pudding-brained Shona. An idea struck him then, a brilliant idea sure to cheer her up and wipe that happy/sad look off of her face. Hadn't he asked her to stop doing that? He needed to write these things down, apparently.

"Ice cream!" Clara actually jumped. He started reaching for levers even before he finished talking. "I am taking you to the best ice cream parlor this side of Andromeda! They have a salted caramel there that will-"

"Is...is it warm there?"

"Warm? It's an ice cream parlor, Clara, if it were warm all the ice cream wou-"

"Could we go somewhere warm?" Clara's voice was odd. Well, her voice always sounded odd, she never seemed to say "u" properly, but even more odd than normal. "I think, I think I'd like to be somewhere warm."

"I thought you weren't going to argue, Clara," the Doctor said, turning to look at her sharply. She'd pulled her dressing gown tightly around her, emphasizing how thin she had become. No wonder she was freezing.

"Fine, fine, we'll go someplace warm, boss, whatEVER you want," he said huffily. Clara laughed softly, the motion drawing the Doctor's attention to her lips, which were turning slightly blue. Hiding his sudden alarm, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

"What's the matter, didn't pay the heat bill on that big house of yours?"

"Hmm?" Clara seemed to have lost her train of thought.

"House. Big. Not your flat. Words too big?"

She scowled at him, much to his relief. "House not mine, snow is cold," she said, parroting his tone back at him. That was good, irritated Clara was better than spacey Clara.

"Then whose house is it?" Surely she hadn't found herself a new boyfriend already, she'd seemed pretty fixated on Danny Pink. Though there was that other man she'd mentioned...maybe he'd misunderstood her...

"Gran's," she said shortly, in a voice that did not encourage a follow up. Naturally the Doctor ignored that.

"Clara, why were you all alone in your Gran's huge house on Christmas eve?" That was strange. The last Christmas the Doctor remembered with Clara seemed to involve 843 people all stuffed into her tiny flat. And a decapitated turkey. He wondered whatever had happened to the turkey.

"Doctor?" Her voice was unsteady as she looked up at him.

"You're doing that thing with the eyes again, I asked you not to do that thing with your eyes." He waved his hands around as he spoke, trying to diffuse the tension. It wasn't working.

"Doctor, I just...I'm so very happy, so happy I got to see you again. I've missed you very, very much."

"No, no, nononono, we don't do this, Clara, remember, we aren't nice."

"Sorry, I forgot." Her smile actually seemed to reach her eyes this time. "Somewhere warm, then, with ice cream?"

"You're the boss."

Her face crumpled then, and he wondered what he'd said wrong. She gasped and doubled over.

"Clara!" Her skin was like ice. What the hell?

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, Doctor..." Turning her head away from him she vomited onto the floor. The TARDIS pinged her distress. Before she could collapse completely the Doctor lifted her into his armchair, the one she was always sniping from him.

She coughed a bit, her voice raw. "Sorry. Can't...trust...Google..." She was clearly having trouble getting the words out. "S'posed to be...quick and easy..."

"What are you talking about, Clara?" The Doctor stared at the sonic, not believing. Not...she wouldn't...no.

"So...sorry..."