A/N: So I had gotten this prompt because December and that means Christmas fluff. Takes place when the twins are vaguely less than a year old.

Seven

"Doctor, I want to celebrate Christmas."

He looked at her as he poured Cheerios onto Alison's highchair tray, one bushy eyebrow cocking curiously. "Is it even Christmas on Earth?"

"Yes, I've been keeping track of the days, and we're almost at Christmas," Clara said. She put the sippy cups of juice in the two cereal-related messes and stared her husband straight in the eyes. Well, they weren't technically married by any sort of binding law or ceremony, but they were married at their hearts, all three connected intrinsically by not only their unspoken love for one another, but for the two children shoving dry cereal in their mouths with pudgy wee hands. "I want them to know what Christmas is, what holidays are, from the beginning so that they understand some things before we bring them to live on Earth. Every kid needs Christmas, or a similar holiday, and I want James and Alison to have that."

The Doctor frowned, unable to argue with that. He wasn't even of Earth, not a believer in all that Christmas came from, and he loved Christmases on Earth. What kind of father would he be if he didn't allow his children to know and understand their heritage? He nodded and shrugged, throwing his entire body headlong into agreement.

"What sort of Christmas do you want them to have?" he asked. "We could spend the holiday with Vastra and Jenny…"

"I like them, don't get me wrong, but I also don't need Strax trying to breastfeed the kids again."

"That's true…" He grimaced at the memory. "Then how about we go on holiday in the American Rockies? Maybe the French Alps? The Montuvian System?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could have Christmas here—get a tree and decorate it, bake festive biscuits, snuggle by the fireplace, wrap presents while the kids are sleeping, open up Christmas crackers, you know… that sort of thing." Clara caught James's sippy cup as it flung through the air, not even looking at where it was going, placing it back on his eating tray. "What do you say?"

"That sounds like a good idea," the Doctor said. "Never had a full-blown Christmas on the TARDIS before. Closest I had was taking Ace to Australia for a barbecue festival, and then there was one year Sarah Jane and I went caroling around UNIT."

"Then maybe we can start today," Clara grinned excitedly.

"Sure, why not?" he chuckled. He laughed as his wife leapt into his arms and gave him a kiss, elated at the prospect of having a proper Christmas. Their children stared at them, curious as to why Mummy was so happy. This Christmas thing had to be fun, yeah? That meant that they were going to have fun—new sorts of fun—and they giggled excitedly.

"Doctor, are you sure you don't want any help with that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he grunted. Clara held the twins in her arms and watched with an unimpressed look on her face. Her breath misted out of her mouth, the babies still staring at the phenomenon in wonder. They were stuffed into snowsuits, unable to put their arms down and only their faces poking out, cheeks rosy-red from the cold. The Doctor, in the meantime, was attempting to stuff a Scots pine in the door of the TARDIS with very little success.

"You're being silly—let me help."

"I am perfectly capable of doing this!" Alison babbled, waving her arms about, making her father's ears turn red from more than the cold. "Do not sass me, young lady! The universe is a small place when I'm cross with you!" She blew a raspberry at him, not taking his warning seriously.

"Alison, behave; your father is trying his best," Clara explained. "It's just a shame he broke Auntie Idris's Chameleon Circuit, and can't seem to program an organics circuit in his sonic tech."

"Clara, you are being incredibly unfair," the Doctor groused. He put down the tree and stared at the dilemma before him, with a tree stuck in the TARDIS door and no way to actually move it either way. His extraterrestrial wife exhaled heavily and shook her head, turning around and walking back towards the park's play area, deciding it was probably better to wait things out where the kids could play and there was a stand with hot chocolate.

"Doctor, you're going to fall and regenerate and scare the children."

"No I'm not, Clara," he insisted. He was up on a ladder, attempting to secure the star to the treetop, wobbling slightly as he did so. The TARDIS had materialized ornaments for them as soon as the Doctor had gotten the tree inside the ship and to the library, which was currently doubling as their sitting room, and they'd spent the entire rest of the evening decorating. Alison and James were sitting on the floor, looking up at the scene above them.

"If you kill yourself, that's your prerogative, not mine," she deadpanned, hands on her hips. She bent down and picked up the kids, placing them in their double-seated walker before continuing to string garland up along the bookcases. Before long, there was a crash by the tree and Clara's attention whipped around to find the Doctor crumpled on the floor, clutching a wrist close to his chest. "Ugh… for the love of… Idris?"

The TARDIS's holographic interface shimmered into view, using the image of a disheveled woman in some sort of outfit that wasn't quite steampunk, though not pure Victorian either, the sight of which made Clara sigh appreciatively. "Please and thank you? I'm sorry."

"That's alright," the interface responded cheerily. "I enjoy interacting with the children more like a Gallifreyanoid would."

"I'll be right back."

Clara then helped the Doctor to his feet and led him towards the medical bay. It probably wasn't a good thing that she was becoming extremely adept at the scanners and various other pieces of medical equipment, but it seemed to come in handy for times like these.

"Now, what did I tell you?" she asked, holding a beam over his wrist that was facilitating bone setting.

"I didn't scare the children by regenerating," he muttered.

"…but you did fall and break something," she scolded. Another whatsit to shoot laser-looking things at the Doctor and before long his wrist was healed, as if it had never happened. She brought the wrist up to her lips and gently pressed a kiss. "There; all better."

"It still hurts," he claimed. She smirked in response.

"Where?"

He pointed at the palm of his hand, which she then kissed. Then his knuckles, his fingertips, his forehead, his cheek; finally he pointed to his lips and they began to kiss, forgetting they were in the medical bay and the Doctor had just fallen in a rather idiotic fashion. After a while they parted and walked back to the library hand-in-hand, finding that the rest of the decorating had been finished and the kids were curled up atop one another on the rug in front of the fire, napping peacefully.

"Thank you old girl," the Doctor said, affectionately rubbing the doorjamb before entering the room. Clara picked up James and he took Alison and they sat down on the couch, snuggling into one another for warmth.

"Now this is Christmas," Clara hummed happily. "A warm home, loving people, and being together."

"You forgot the turkey and the crackers," he added.

"Those will come later; can't wait to see you in a paper crown," she smiled. He kissed the top of her head in response, pulling her in closer so that all four tiny members of his family were secure in his arms. It was definitely going to be one of the better Christmases he'd spent over the course of a couple thousand years, because if it was for Clara, James, and Alison, it was definitely worth the trouble.

He closed his eyes and joined everyone else in a short nap. As they rested, packages appeared underneath the tree, ready to be opened as soon as they stirred.