A/N: Happy New Year, whoufflepuffs! Sorry for the delay in the second installment. And just to clarify since I didn't properly establish this in the first part - Yes, this definitely takes place before the epilogue of The IT Guy!

"So anyway," Amy continued after a long interruption from the Doctor. "He drives his car straight off the road into the back garden, smashes into our shed, and nearly wakes up the entire village banging on the horn while he tries to get out of the car."

Clara bowed her head and covered her eyes with secondhand embarrassment. "He didn't."

The Doctor scowled. Rory took one look at the Doctor's face and nearly choked on a biscuit.

"Don't ever get into a car with him, whatever you do," Amy insisted.

"Oi! The power steering malfunctioned," the Doctor insisted defensively as he mimed driving a steering wheel. "And besides, Clara and I drove to Blackpool last Christmas. I'm a good driver, aren't I, Clara?"

Clara smiled brightly and looked between him and Amy, but didn't say a word. Rory cackled.

The Doctor's shoulders slumped and he frowned at them all. "Thanks, Clara. Thanks a lot."

"What happened next?" Clara asked Amy, nudging the Doctor's leg fondly beneath the table.

"Well, he was pretty beat up, so I took him to the hospital to get his head looked at—it was fine, by the way, I just thought he must have a head injury because he was acting completely barmy—and guess who happened to be on the shift in the A&E?"

"Rory!" Clara answered gleefully.

Rory shrugged and sipped his tea.

"I let him stay at my place for the night since his car was a wreck and he was doped up on pain killers," Amy continued. "I woke up at two in the morning to find him raiding the refrigerator for fish fingers and custard."

"Eww, you ate them together?" Clara said with disgust.

"It was delicious, if I remember," the Doctor replied simply.

"You were high on painkillers," Rory clarified.

Amy shrugged, laughing. "I dunno, it wasn't so bad."

When their laughter ebbed, Rory glanced between Clara and the Doctor and asked, "So, what about you two?"

"Hmm?" said Clara.

"How did you meet?"

The Doctor met her eyes and they both smiled. "Um, well, that's a tricky one to answer."

"We've got to pick one," said the Doctor, "otherwise we're going to have to keep doing this."

"Technically, the first time we met was… about two years ago, actually. Not long after Christmas."

Rory and Amy exchanged a meaningful glance. That had been the first Christmas after they'd left London.

"We can skip that one," Clara offered, laughing nervously.

The Doctor smiled. "Yeah, well, you only want to because you didn't remember me."

"You were practically in disguise!" she teased in return, but the humour felt off. It suddenly felt as if River were in the room with them. Clara hastened the story along. "I started working for TARDIS industries last August, and less than a month in, my computer froze, and I was advised to call 'The Doctor'."

Clara grinned fondly at the memory.

"Yeah, and then she fell madly in love with me, and the rest is history," the Doctor said with a cheeky grin.

Clara poked him in the leg with her boot and tried to shoot him a sour look, but she felt herself grinning.

"She saved my life, you know," the Doctor added proudly to Rory and Amy. "Big ol' bucket of paste fell from some scaffolding and she knocked me out of the way before it could crack my head open."

"Yeah," Clara interjected. "And then he fell madly in love with me, and the rest is history."

"Yeah, pretty much," he agreed with a grin before sipping the last of his tea.

Amy smiled at them both and then stood. "It's been a long trip. I bet you're both tired. Rory, did you put the sheets on the guest bed?"

"What do you think we were doing while you two were out here chatting about which one of us is handsomer?" Rory quipped dryly.

Amy feigned a gasp. "That reminds me, the verdict's still out. Care to do the washing up?"

Rory rolled his eyes, but stood from the table. "Yeah, yeah."

Clara offered to help Rory while Amy and the Doctor drifted into the living room to examine the Christmas tree. Clara didn't so much as help as she did lean against the counter while Rory rinsed off the cups and plates.

"It's weird," Clara began, her eyes on the Doctor and Amy. "I feel like I know you both already."

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's mentioned you both quite a lot, but really it's seeing him with you." Clara smiled. "The more playful side of his personality comes out."

"Is there any other side?" Rory joked.

Clara's smile turned sad. "There's lots of sides."

Rory nodded and turned off the sink. "Amy's different with him here, too."

"Good different?" she asked hopefully. Clara had this nagging feeling that Rory wasn't as happy to see the Doctor as he let on.

"I dunno yet," Rory replied honestly, turning to Clara and crossing his arms over his chest. "She seems to like you, though, so that's good."

"Really? Good. I want her to like me. What about you?"

"Clara, I'm a married man."

His tone made it difficult for Clara to realise he was kidding, and for a horrifying moment, she thought he was serious. Her subsequent laughter drew Amy and the Doctor back into the kitchen, the pair of them looking slightly miffed that their respective partners were enjoying themselves outside of their company.

Clara turned off the light as they both crawled into bed later that evening.

"So?" she asked, sliding under the sheets.

"So?" the Doctor replied, fluffing his pillow.

Clara curled on her side and propped her head up. "Good to see your friends again?"

He sank into his pillow and stared at the ceiling for a moment, but she could see him smiling in the dark. "Yeah."

Clara sighed happily but then frowned. "We're on the wrong side of the bed."

"Oh. We are…" He chuckled. "Well, we are in America."

Clara tugged on his arm and the Doctor grunted tiredly in protest before scooting to her side of the bed. Clara crawled over him and was barely able to contain a squeal of surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down for a brief kiss.

"Thanks for coming with me," he said quietly.

"You're very welcome," Clara replied with a grin. She kissed him again, this time for a bit longer, and then rolled onto her side of the bed. "Have we made any plans for tomorrow?"

"Amy wants to take us out for brunch."

"Ooh, brunch. That's so very New York."

"Yeah, it also means we can have a bit of a lie in."

Clara snuggled against his side. "Mmm, I think I'm liking Christmas in New York."

The Doctor wrapped his arm around her and held her close. Clara settled her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed up and down the bare skin of her arm.

"What do you think of them?" he asked after a lengthy silence. "Rory and Amy."

"They're really nice," she replied. "I can see a lot of you in them."

"Yeah?"

"Or a lot of them in you… or both."

"Like how?"

"The way you make fun of each other," she said, grinning. "And you all overreact the same way when you drop something, and then look up and pretend like nothing happened. Which—by the way—you're all terribly clumsy."

He chuckled. "Yeah. So sorry you're stuck with all of these people who lack your natural grace and elegance."

"Shut up," she replied with a poorly suppressed grin, poking him in the ribs.

They laid in silence for a long time. Clara felt herself drifting off to sleep, but before the fog of slumber grew too thick, she shifted her head against his shoulder and muttered, "G'night, love."

"Night."

The light was still on in the room across the hall as Rory and Amy settled in for the evening.

"Have you seen my phone charger?" Rory asked, turning in a circle by the bed as his eyes roamed the room.

"Did you move it from its usual spot?" Amy asked from her spot by the dresser where she was rubbing the last of her moisturiser into her skin.

"No, but it's wandered off. Did you use it?"

"No, why would—Oh, yeah. I did." Amy winced guiltily. "I had it in the writing room this morning before we set the bed up."

"The bed the Doctor and Clara are in now?" Rory replied dully.

Amy nodded. Rory groaned.

"Just go in there and get it," Amy suggested.

"You go in there and get it," Rory groused. "What if they're… You know."

Amy quirked an eyebrow as Rory made an interesting gesture with his hands. "What is that even supposed to be?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Rory lowered his hands and shot her an impatient look. "What if they're naked," he said, mouthing the last word.

"Oh my god, Rory! They're not going to be naked! You and I don't just get naked whenever we're visiting someone else's house."

"We did that one time," he pointed out.

Amy bit her lip and grinned. "Well, yeah."

"You go get it," Rory insisted.

"No! I'm not going into their bedroom. What if they're asleep?"

"Then they won't notice you."

"What if I wake them up?"

"Then… they'll wake up."

Amy frowned at him.

"Why don't I just use your charger?" he asked with a sigh.

"Why do you think I was using yours this morning? I lost mine."

Rory groaned in aggravation. Amy frowned thoughtfully.

"Do you think they'll be naked?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know, Amy," Rory sighed. "With River there was always a 50/50 chance."

Amy half-laughed. It still wasn't easy to talk about River. Acknowledging that she was gone was just as bad as pretending she was still here.

"What do you think of her?" she asked, sitting on the edge of their bed as Rory fiddled with his phone.

"Hmm? Oh, Clara? She's nice, yeah."

"Does she seem like she's maybe too nice?"

Rory glanced over at his wife. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno, maybe she's not right for him," Amy pondered aloud, hugging her pillow to her chest. "She's so different."

"From him? Or River?"

Amy's frown was all the answer he needed. Sighing in understanding, Rory dropped his phone onto the nightstand and crawled onto the bed next to Amy so he could wrap his arm around her.

"No one can replace River, you know."

"I know that!" Amy retorted crossly.

"Shh, I know, but just—Don't blame Clara for being different. She's nice. Funny. Seems like she takes good care of him."

Amy narrowed her eyes at her husband's aloof tone as he contemplated the Doctor's new girlfriend. "And rather pretty too, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah. I mean—no!" Rory added defensively, his eyes as wide as a rabbit's. "I don't think she's pretty. I mean, she's not ugly. Far from ugly, in fact. Not too far, though. I-I mean… You…"

Amy grinned broadly and pecked him on the lips. Rory sighed indignantly but grinned.

"I really hate you sometimes, you know."

"Yeah," Amy replied, completely chuffed. "I know."

The Doctor awoke several times during the night. What little he could remember of his dreams was disturbing, all composed of horrific emotions juxtaposed against painful memories and realised fears. Clara was curled up on her side facing him, still sound asleep the second time he woke, and for a while the Doctor just stared at her sleeping features and took comfort in seeing her there beside him.

He really loved her. It was painfully obvious throughout the day, but when they were alone and she wasn't paying him any attention, all he could think about was how irrevocably and overwhelmingly in love with her he was. Admitting this made him feel like a terrible narcissist, but partly what he loved about Clara was how she made him feel about himself. The Doctor felt like a happier, cleverer, better looking man whenever she was around, or even when he was just thinking about her.

He needed that now, that boost in confidence and self-esteem, because for the last two years, anything related to Amy and Rory had buried him in a heap of self-loathing and regret. The Doctor hated how their relationship had been tainted by such negativity, but they were so deeply tied to his memories of River, which were also forever stained by sorrow.

He brushed Clara's hair away from her face and she inhaled sharply and stirred. "Whatimisi'?" she mumbled, but the Doctor shushed her softly.

"It's still night time, love. Go back to sleep."

Clara groaned into her pillow and readily acquiesced. The Doctor then kissed her softly on the lips before rising from the bed and wandering about in the kitchen.

He trudged around the corner with an enormous yawn, and upon entering the kitchen, he was surprised to find Rory standing next to the sink with a glass of water.

"Hey," the Doctor greeted simply, scratching the side of his face. "Can't sleep?"

Rory shook his head. "I'm like an infant; I can only sleep for a few hours at a time. You?"

The Doctor pointed to his face and nodded, indicating that he was likewise afflicted. Rory didn't even ask before pulling another glass from the cupboard and filling it with water for the Doctor.

"Cheers. Amy still asleep?" the Doctor asked before sucking down three large gulps of water.

"Yeah, she sleeps like the dead. I… Sorry," Rory added with a grimace. "Poor choice of words."

The Doctor hadn't even taken notice, but he realised they could only avoid the elephant in the room for so long. "It's been two years, Rory."

"Is that how long it takes for you to move on?"

Rory's words felt like a blow to his chest, but they were followed by an immediate apology.

"God, I'm so sorry. It's late…" Rory insisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Doctor shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he considered his next words. "I've done my grieving, Rory. I'm still grieving. Every day I miss her, and it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that that would never go away."

Rory met the Doctor's eyes and nodded soberly. "I know."

"But I do want to move on," he admitted, even though saying those words felt like a wretched betrayal of River's memory. "Because there has to be more to life than this endless grief."

Rory continued to nod. "No, I know. I do. I'm sorry. It's just hard… Amy still isn't…" He bowed his head. "She's still not coping well, I don't think. She's… I don't know. I think she's happy here, but she and River… you know how close they were. And Amy had never experienced death like that before. I mean, all of her grandparents are still alive."

The Doctor smiled tightly. "It's not much better when you're used to everyone dying."

Rory bowed his head. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Rory, as grateful as I am, I think it'll be best for everyone if we all stop being sorry." The Doctor shrugged. "Or that's all we'll ever be."

Rory looked up at him with an incredulous smile. "Never thought I'd hear those words coming from you."

The Doctor chuckled into his water glass. "Nor did I."