Contar Smitt lay dying in the medical bay. "It looks real," The Doctor muttered, buzzing his sonic screwdriver along the outline of the Duraxian's body. "Was it likely not to be?" Clara chirped from beside him, entering the room. The Shadow Proclamation had returned her clothes to her, but unfortunately for Clara this didn't mean her own clothes, which she'd left on Actonia Prime, it meant the itchy green dress the Khi-Bur had given her. "You can never be too careful," the Doctor smiled to her. She half-nodded, pulling at the fabric of the dress, and scratching her skin gently to try and soothe the sharp tickling feeling it was giving her.

There was a stab mark in Contar's chest, and his shirt was stained with blood. "Is he…" Clara started to ask slowly, fearing the answer, her hands dropping back to her sides. "Not yet," the Doctor answered before she got to the end, "but his vital signs are getting slower by the second, so we'll need to be quick. Help me carry him."

Together they dragged him through the corridors of the Shadow Proclamation back to the TARDIS. Clara avoided eye contact with the Judoon giving them odd looks as they got back. "To Ro-Ko!" The Doctor shouted at the two standing guard at the TARDIS. They didn't move. He sighed. "I'm coming back," he sighed, "even your boss accepts that."

"We are?" Clara whispered. "Yes," the Doctor hissed back. Clara tried to hide her disappointment but didn't manage very well. The Doctor looked at her for a moment but didn't comment on it. With a grunt, the Judoon stepped aside. The Doctor laughed to himself, produced his key from his pocket, and after jiggling with the lock, flung open the doors. Clara grinned, skipping inside behind him. It was good to be back.

The TARDIS hummed as they entered. The Doctor ran his hand along the console with a smile. "Missed you too, dear," he said quietly. Clara smiled at that. It was cute in a kind of weird way. But then she'd missed the old box too. She considered saying something but wasn't sure they were on good enough terms yet. It had only just started liking her, she didn't want to blow it by being too clingy.

They laid Contar down on the floor by the console, and Clara couldn't shake the feeling it was like laying a corpse down at the morgue. "Don't you have a bed somewhere we could put him in?" she glanced at the Doctor. The Doctor was already flinging himself around the console unit, flicking switches. "No time. Besides, I want to keep an eye on him." Clara sat herself down next to the Duraxian and gently cradled his head, hoping to keep it still and safe while the TARDIS was in flight. With the pull of one last lever, the Doctor grinned as the TARDIS took off: "Geronimo!"

Clara closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the TARDIS whizzing through time and space like a knife through butter. No voices shouting at her now. Just time. Time and her Doctor. Then suddenly it stopped. Her eyes clicked open and she looked over at the Doctor who was staring at the TARDIS in disbelief: "What have you done that for?" he demanded.

"Something wrong?" Clara asked, gently placing Contar's head on the floor and getting to her feet. He looked over at her, a weary look in his eye. She smiled. He couldn't help smiling back. "The TARDIS has stopped."

"Yeah, kind of got that to be honest."

"Of its own accord."

"Yup. But why?"

"Because it wants to show me something. It always takes me where I need to go, so outside those doors is something I need to know before I save our friend down there."

"Do we have time to go exploring?"

"The best time to waste time is when you don't have any. It builds character. Stay here with him."

"Can't I come with you?"

"Not until I know what's out there. I think you've been through enough today, don't you?"

Clara couldn't argue with that.

"Don't touch anything. Don't move. Don't breathe more than you have to." He stopped at the door and turned to her with a cheeky smile, "And don't be afraid." And then he was gone. Clara sighed and slumped against the console. The TARDIS whirred. Clara smirked: "Yeah, alright, I guess I might have missed you too."

Stepping off his ship, the Doctor found himself in the centre of a metal-plated sphere, decorated with the constant falling of snow that seemed to sizzle as it touched the floor but settle nonetheless. The floor stayed still beneath his feet, no one approaching or running away. The Doctor crouched down and ran his hand along the floor, feeling the snow melt against his fingers. It wasn't as cold as it was supposed to be.

The Doctor looked up, a little fury creeping into his eyes. He had a suspicion why the TARDIS had brought him, but he needed to be sure. He paced along the snowy metal, searching until he found him. Ice Warrior Grand Marshal Arvakxyr. Lying beaten to death on the snowy floor, his blood splattered on the ground around him. The Doctor closed his eyes, the image of the red snow seared into his mind. "I'm sorry old friend…" he muttered.

"He should have just given me what I asked for," Contar called. The Doctor turned to find the Duraxian stood behind him, gun in hand, pointed directly at the Doctor's forehead. Slowly, he put his hands up. "What have you done to Clara?"

Contar looked down at the dead Ice Warrior sadly. Then back up at the Doctor, grim determination in his eyes once more. He didn't answer the question. He just marched the Doctor back to the TARDIS like a soldier escorting a prisoner of war.