It had been a bit of a whirlwind regarding the Christmas holiday for the Doctor. He had the day off to spend with Paul, but it was back to the grind as soon as the holiday was over. As predicted, the Doctor lost count of how many of the soon to be mothers became mothers all within the same week. The tired Time Lord poured his tea in the to-go mug to take with him to work. Usually, Paul would already be getting ready for bed, but tonight, he was allowed to stay up past midnight as it was New Year's Eve.

Clara was still staying with them as her father was still on holiday with Linda. It was helpful having her around to watch Paul while the Doctor was off delivering more babies. He looked in on the two as they sat on the floor in front of the telly. The sound was muted, but they could still see all the performances going on around the world as midnight rolled around each place, hour by hour.

They were playing Paul's favourite card game, Uno. The young boy was obsessed with foreign languages and was trying to master Spanish. Which meant counting to 15. He was so proud of himself for being able to go past 10. Clara would teach him a new number every evening before bed. Once she hit 11, she secretly had to look up the other numbers. Paul was none the wiser.

"Well, I'm off. Be good for Miss Clara, Paul. And I'll see you both next year!"

The Doctor went to leave, but Paul shot up and ran to his father. He nearly had tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked the Doctor. Typically Paul barely acknowledged him leaving for work. Especially if he was in an intense round of cards.

"I don't want you to be gone a whole year, daddy!"

Clara was now standing near them with a slight smile on her face. It was clear Paul didn't understand what his father meant when he said "next year." The Doctor chuckled as he knelt down.

"Paul, I'll be home in a few hours. It's New Year's Eve, silly boy. It will be the next year in only a few short hours. I'll be home soon."

Paul's face brightened as he understood. "Ohhhh!" he giggled. "See you next year, daddy!"

After the Doctor left, Paul kept on with the joke. Every time Clara asked him to 'clean up a toy' or 'wash his hands,' he'd simply giggle and say he would "do it next year." Clara could only chuckle and roll her eyes.

Clara loved being around little Paul. As much as it hurt, knowing she would never have her own children, being around the small child brought a smile to her face. He was so pure and innocent. Not to mention a bit cranky from time to time, but, despite the occasional fit, Clara couldn't help think that Paul was the very essence of love itself.

…

After the miraculous and slightly embarrassing (okay, more than slightly) moment with Clara, the Doctor's first shift was thankfully routine. Dr Andrews didn't even mention it, and the nurse that had been on shift wasn't working. The Time Lord figured that he and Clara had gotten away with their secret, and there wouldn't be any repercussions from hiding away in his office with an unknown female.

But, before the Doctor entered his office on New Year's Eve, he caught eyes with the said nurse as she quickly went in the other direction. She must have taken a few days off as he hadn't seen her since running into her outside the storage room. "Dr Smith" entered his office to find the head of his department sitting at his desk with Dr Andrews standing off to the side with a sympathetic look on his face. The Doctor's stomach dropped. The department head never made an appearance unless it was something significant…significantly bad.

The Doctor cleared his throat as he set his belongings down. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting, Dr Hill?" he asked, trying to sound unbothered.

"John," began the older man.

Oof. Not even addressing him as Dr Smith anymore. This wasn't going to be good.

"It has come to my attention that you had a "meeting" with a patient in your office some time ago?"

The Doctor sat down in the chair across the stern-looking man.

"Yes. But I have had many meetings in my office with patients, so I'm not sure who you are referring to." Dr Hill said "patient", so maybe this wasn't about Clara?

The man looked at a sheet of paper in front of him. "A Miss Clara Oswald? Apparently, she had an appointment scheduled with you… let's see here. Ah. She has an appointment scheduled with you for next week, actually. She'd set it up back in November."

The Doctor tried to keep his features blank. Clara must have made the appointment after the accident but had forgotten and just showed up instead.

"Oh, right. Yes. She's… she's a friend of mine. I'd told her that I'd be happy to take her on as a patient. She had recently found out she was pregnant."

"Right," said the man. "If she had an appointment set up, why did she show up in the middle of the night, demanding to see you whilst threatening the staff? And if she's a "friend" of yours and simply wanted to talk to you, why come here at all?"

The Doctor swallowed hard. "She was distraught. She'd just lost the baby." He paused. "She wasn't thinking clearly." The Doctor looked over at Dr Andrews, who had been silently listening. He nodded his head to show that "Dr Smith's" answer was appropriate.

Dr Hill rubbed at his forehead and sighed. "John, I don't know what your relationship with this woman is. And frankly, I don't care. Whatever you do on your own time is fine. But you can't bring it here. Whether anything untoward happened or not, it doesn't look good. We can't have patients thinking their doctor has some weird fetish sleeping with patients in his office."

The Doctor scoffed. "I did no such thing!" He looked to Dr Andrews. "Nate, you know me! I wouldn't do that! I've NEVER slept with a patient, and I've NEVER slept with anyone in my office!"

Before Dr Andrews could get a word in, Dr Hill spoke. "Dr Andrews has done nothing but speak highly of you. He's the one who asked to have this meeting before I simply sacked you over the phone. But John, someone saw you and Miss Oswald exiting the hospital." The man then placed a picture in front of the Doctor. He and Clara were in the car park…and Clara was walking.

The Doctor grimaced at the photo.

"Why did she have a wheelchair? The nurse…er, the person who informed me of their suspicions, saw her when she came in. And happened to be in the car park when you left. So again, John, I don't care what kind of kinks you're into but what it appears is that you were doing some kind of weird patient/doctor role play."

The Doctor huffed a laugh at the absurdity of the notion and then put his head in his hands. He lifted his head again. "I swear to you. That's not what happened. She…I…" he stopped. How could he explain? How could he tell him he was an alien who healed her? That he was over 1000 years old and decided to forgo saving the universe to moonlight as a labour and delivery doctor?

"I…" he began, but the man lifted his hand to stop him.

"John, I don't want to know. Just be grateful that the person who caught you came directly to me. We all know you are an exceptional doctor. But, unfortunately, regardless of what actually transpired, it just looks bad. If you don't resign, I will have to sack you, which may look even worse. Dr Andrews will take over your patients. We'll tell everyone you have family issues. Maybe you'll find another hospital to practice medicine." The man stood up. "I'm sorry, John. But, you can no longer work here."

…

Only two hours of having left for work, the Doctor found him standing outside his own doorstep with a box of his belongings in hand. How could he tell Clara he'd lost his job because of what he did for her? She was already feeling guilty enough, and he didn't want to make her feel worse. He took a breath as he entered the house. He could hear Clara talking to Paul about how it would be a new year in less than twenty minutes. The Doctor had completely forgotten the time.

Paul and Clara turned their heads when he entered the room.

"Daddy!" cried Paul as he ran up to his father. The little boy hugged his legs as he tried not to drop the box he'd taken with him from his office.

"Doctor? Everything alright? It looks like you just got sacked…." Clara stood up and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God. It's because of me, isn't it," she kept her voice low as to not confuse Paul.

"Paul? Could you run to your room and grab a fun game for us all to play?" asked the Doctor.

Paul smiled brightly and nodded as he dashed off towards his bedroom. The Doctor could already see the guilt all over Clara's face.

"Clara, it's all right. I…I didn't get sacked. I resigned." He wasn't lying about that. Maybe he could play it off as it all being his own decision.

"What? Why?"

"Well, you know what they say, new year, new me. Didn't want to spend that much time away from Paul anymore. As much as I love…well, loved my job, being with him is more important." Again, he wasn't lying. He just conveniently left out that if he hadn't resigned, he would have been sacked anyway.

Clara gave him a curious look and then simply accepted the explanation. The Doctor set the heavy box down on the kitchen table and reentered the room at the same time Paul did. He was toting the game Battleship. Paul set the game on the coffee table.

"Miss Clara and I can be on a team against you, daddy. We are going to destroy you!" he giggled.

They all sat around the coffee table as they tried to sink each other's ships. The three of them were so enraptured with the game as well as each other that they hadn't even noticed when the clock struck midnight, ushering them into a brand new year.