The cell, the Doctor discovered, was about five aggravated paces in one direction, before he had to turn around and pace towards the opposite wall. He calculated it was as wide as it was long. He was impeded in exploring this theory, however, by the presence of the other occupant of the cell—a scruffy looking dragon, sound asleep and stretched out against the far wall on a pallet on the floor of the cell.

The bars of the cell were narrow, preventing escape. The Doctor would have used his sonic screwdriver to unlock the cell, except that his screwdriver was still in his other jacket somewhere in Clara's house. Possibly waiting to be laundered. Which meant it was absolutely useless to him at this moment.

Pacing once more in the opposite direction, he smacked his hand against his forehead. "I am an idiot—I manage to pack into my pockets my psychic paper but forget the sonic. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How am I supposed to rescue Clara if I'm not properly kitted out to do so?"

He abruptly stopped pacing when he heard a loud noise from down the hall. It was a very loud clank, followed by heavy footfalls and the sliding noise of a dragon's tail. Someone was coming, preferably to release him from the cell. He didn't have long to wait.

Looming up into view came the very dragon that had flung him in here, four hours and fifty-seven minutes ago. The Doctor threw himself at the cell bars.

"Come to let me out, I hope? Seen the error of your ways, I presume?" he excitedly chattered at the dragon. "Well, all of us make mistakes. No problem, I promise not to hold it against you."

"Wot's all that? Error? Nossir, you was makin' a fuss and needed to cool down. However, 'tis true that Her Honor told us you were her friend and that she wants you by her side at the dinner being given for her. So, yes, I'm letting you out, sir." The dragon fiddled with the lock and then swung wide the cell door. "Come with me an' I'll take you to Her Honor."

Stepping out of the cell in an affronted manner, the Doctor pulled at his coat lapels and strode down the hall. The armored dragon relocked the cell and left its remaining occupant, the sleeping dragon, who hadn't even cracked an eyelid during the Doctor's release, to its slumbers.

A few twists and turns of hallway, the Doctor and the guard dragon emerged into a great hall. In the center, many stone tables were set up with low benches near them. Food was piled high on glass and stone dishware. Dragons wandered about, spearing the delicacies in their claws and munching happily away as they talked with one another. At the far end of the hall was a raised dais, and on a stone throne sat Clara, chatting happily with an elegantly bejeweled dragon wearing a tiara.

"Clara!" the Doctor yelled, relieved to see her well and in good spirits. Turning his way, she spotted him and waved him over to her side. He wasted no time in crossing the hall, dodging his way around dragons, to skip up the steps of the dais and stand beside her.

"So!" The Doctor clapped his hands together and grinned. "What've you been up to while I was biding my time in a dank cell for five hours and seven minutes?"

"Up until about forty-five of those minutes ago, Mister, I had no idea where you were," Clara icily remarked, smile frozen in place. "You might thank me for getting you freed after I learned where they'd stashed you."

He dropped to one knee by her throne, and took her hand and kissed it. "My apologies, your Honor, and my eternal thanks and gratitude." Rising again, he grinned cockily. "So what's this all about? You've risen in rank from companion to Her Honor. What caused that, ay?"

The elegant dragon sitting beside Clara eyed the Doctor narrowly. "Ssssir," it hissed, "I would request that you be more respectful of Her Honor, after all the service she rendered us these twenty life-cycles ago. She is the savior of the dragons and deserves your esteem."

Clara turned to the dragon, holding a hand up to soothe the beast. "It's all right, Sssassordra. He doesn't know the full history. Remember? This is the Doctor, but he's got a different face now."

"Ahh, yessss, the way of the Time Lords, to shed their old skin and come out with new bodies. The one we dealt with had much whiter hair, with a lot of fluff to it." The dragon regarded the Doctor critically. "This one has a lot of hair, but it's much straighter."

"My third self," the Doctor remarked. "That was quite a while ago. I've had about ten more changes since then."

"Remarkable," the dragon replied. "Still, we thank you, sir, for being a part of rescuing us that fateful day. If you had not been here, the dreadful Okssstrajursss would have decimated us with their emnotic bomb. Even so, it was our beloved Ossswin Claire who sacrificed herself destroying the secondary bomb that was discovered as the Doctor left the caverns it was in. Truly, she saved his life as well, as had she not done so, he would have been caught in the full blast. She took the brunt of it."

"I remember that…I thought I'd dealt with the only bomb the Okstrajurs had laid. I was surprised when a secondary blast went off just as I reached the mouth of the cave. I had to leave quickly in the TARDIS to catch up to the Okstrajurs' ship as the cowards left orbit. So I never knew what happened." The Doctor gave Clara a look of wonder. "Oswin Claire…must have been one of your echoes…saving me yet again," he whispered.

She smiled up at him with a flirtatious sidelong glance. "Yet another reason to treat me with more respect," she taunted him.

Resisting the urge to snatch her off her throne, grab her up into a bear hug, swing her around and then kiss her senseless for her coquettish behavior, the Doctor merely gave Clara a cheeky smile back. He then turned to Sssassordra. "So I take it this banquet is in Clara's—Oswin Claire's—honor, then?"

"Yesss…and since you also were instrumental in rescuing us from obliteration, it shall be in your honor, too, Doctor. Servant!" Sssassordra raised a claw to summon a nearby smaller dragon standing in wait nearby. "Bring another throne for the Doctor to sit upon, while we feast and then entertain the two. Make haste!" The servant bowed, and quickly skittered off. Soon it returned, along with two others, carrying another stone throne, and then placing it next to Clara's. The Doctor sat on it and reached over to take Clara's hand. All around them cheers were lifted, cups were raised in their honor, and the dragons laughed, sang and clumsily danced in celebration of their two liberators.

Several more hours went by, and Clara found herself nodding as a young dragon stood up to sing an ode to the Doctor's feat. It had been an exhausting day and she could feel fatigue creeping over her. The Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder. "Tired?" he asked, as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"It's been a rather taxing day," she answered. "And we still haven't gotten a tree for my Christmas."

"Ah…I'll take care of that now," he smiled, and squeezed her shoulder gently. Leaning over her, he got the attention of Sssassordra, who had been watching the singing dragonlet, who evidently was her grandchild. "Sssassordra? May I ask a favor?"

The dragon gave Clara and the Doctor its full attention. "Of course, honored ones. You may ask for anything you so desire. It is the very least we owe you for saving our lives."

"Ah, good," the Doctor replied. "There is something you could help us out with…"