A/N: It's never too late, or too early, for a Christmas-themed scene. Takes place when the twins are three.

Clara sat on the mound of pillows in the corner of the nursery, a child on each side as she read to them The Night Before Christmas. She had volunteered to be the one to read to them while the Doctor took their presents from their hiding place and put them into the study, which was where they had set up their Christmas tree. Neither parent had wanted the TARDIS to transport the gifts to beneath the tree because then they weren't Santa. Being Santa on Christmas Eve was a tradition that they didn't want to miss out on because their children were being raised inside a sentient space-and-time ship and the TARDIS thankfully obliged.

"'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.' Well, now that was nice, wasn't it?"

"Can Santa really get into Auntie Idris?" Alison wondered. "We're in the time vortex, so how can he get a sleigh here?"

"He can, and it's because Mummy and Daddy met Santa personally, letting him know how to reach us on Christmas Eve," Clara explained. "There's a super-secret way to get presents in from the sleigh, and only Mummy, Daddy, Auntie Idris, and Santa know."

"What about the elves?" James asked. "The story mentions nothing about elves, and they would know, wouldn't they?"

"Elves would just get into a spat if they came along with Santa; they're about as agreeable as Mr. Strax," Clara said. "Wouldn't that be something? Mr. Strax dressed up as one of Santa's elves?"

"Mr. Strax is something all by himself," James muttered.

"That's right; now get to bed, both of you, or Santa is going to skip over Auntie Idris, and then nothing will be delivered!" She watched as the kids scrambled to bed and jammed the covers over their heads. Chuckling to herself, Clara was able to tuck them in and get goodnight kisses from both before she left the nursery and went into her own room, finding that the Doctor had just sat down on the bed.

"They down for the count?" he asked.

"That they are—they're already starting to wonder how Santa gets here," she said, sitting down next to him. "Too clever for our own good."

"No such thing, because their mam is where they get their cleverness, and she's had longer to perfect it," he said. The Doctor put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "How about we turn in, yeah? I think I pulled something in my shoulder during… you know… and it should heal up with a little rest."

"Sounds good," she agreed. Clara and the Doctor then changed into their pajamas (actual pajamas for the former, while the latter simply stripped down to his pants and t-shirt) and went to bed cuddled together. It was to be a night of nothing more than snuggles and sleeping, or else risk not being prepared should a pair of pint-sized peepers decided to catch them off-guard for presents come morning.

After being lulled to sleep by the scent of the Doctor's shampoo, Clara woke from a dreamless sleep to find that he was gone. It was not an unusual thing to experience, but thought it odd when she checked her mobile and saw that it was already eight in the morning.

For this to happen on Christmas was unacceptable.

Clara stretched as she got up, chasing the remaining sleep away before putting on her robe and slippers. The TARDIS already had a mug of coffee waiting for her as she shuffled towards the door, which she grabbed before giving the wall a nice, grateful pat before heading into the corridor. After checking the nursery—blankets were still tossed back in child-like hurry—she went to the study, where she found the twins playing with some new stuffed animals while the robe-clad Doctor sat on the floor near them, overseeing the fun. The stick-on bow that had been attached to Alison's present was now sitting atop his head, precariously clinging to his fluffy hair by what remained of the adhesive.

"Ah, you're finally awake," he said the moment she walked in. "I caught these wee ones trying to open presents without us."

"We only opened one each," Alison argued. "Besides, they were from Santa."

"Maybe Santa wants us to watch to make sure you got the correct ones," Clara replied. She sat down on the couch, waiting for her space-husband to join her. He did quickly and soon they were taking turns passing out presents and opening them for all to see. Once everything had been opened, the parents quietly watched as their children played with their new toys from their cozy spot on the couch.

"It looks like Santa did a good job this year," the Doctor chuckled in Clara's ear.

"He's no pudding-brained fool, that's for certain," she replied. She kissed the tip of his nose and watched red creep up from his neck to his face. "You know, I wonder who I should go back in time to visit so that I can brag to someone about turning you domestic."

"There's a long list—you want it alphabetical or by their initial appearance in my timeline?"

"Doesn't matter, because you are the real Christmas present here." She patted the bow atop his head and giggled before taking another sip of coffee. "Looks like our daughter had the right idea."

"Alison? Naw—had to make sure it got on myself," he murmured. He tucked the top of Clara' head under his chin and held her a bit tighter. "Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald."

"Merry Christmas, Doctor."