A/N: I think this part is rated slightly more R than T, but I might be judging that on a rather prudish scale. I think you can handle it.

"Now remember, if anyone falls down, we contain our laughter to less than five seconds."

Clara snorted as she and the Doctor stepped onto the ice rink in Central Park. "You fall down a lot, don't you?"

"Shut up."

Rory sped ahead of them, his footwork on the ice as impressive as Amy had promised. Clara wasn't too clumsy on the ice, but the bravest thing she tried besides turning was skating backwards, which usually resulted in her standing still on the ice.

The Doctor wasn't as clumsy as she feared he would be, but every now and then he would wobble on a turn or tug a little too hard on her hand and her life would flash before her eyes. Clara heavily considered removing her hand from his to spare herself from a fall, but they were ice skating together in Central Park; the romanticism of the moment had her clinging extra hard to his hand and grinning with the enthusiasm of a child as they circled the rink.

"So how are you liking the city, Clara? A bit different from the movies?" Amy asked on their third tour around the rink.

"Aside from the lack of aliens attacking the city, I'd say it's just like the movies."

"Bit more like a rom com then?" Amy teased.

Clara grinned and found it odd that she was blushing. "Yeah, I suppose. Oh, wow," she said when she saw someone do a double axel in the centre of the rink."

"Oh god, now Rory will start," Amy said with a groan.

"I heard that," Rory said as he zoomed passed them.

"Good!" Amy cried, skating after him.

Clara chuckled at the pair of them as she and the Doctor maintained their position in the steady flow of circling skaters. "They're funny."

"Yeah. They've known each other since they were kids."

"It shows," Clara said with some amusement.

Rory grabbed Amy by the elbows and started spinning them both in circles. Amy's panicked shrieks were likely to be heard on the other side of the park.

"Ooh, that looks like fun," the Doctor said.

"Yeah. Wait—No! No, no, no, no, no!" Clara cried when he grabbed both of her hands and started spinning.

The Doctor hadn't even reached a full 180 degrees before he tripped over his own feet and fell with a loud smack onto the ice. Clara bent forward but miraculously managed to stay on her feet despite the iron grip he held on her hands. She did fall to her knees laughing, however, and the Doctor pinched her thigh irritably before reminding her of his five second rule.

"Did you hurt anything?" she asked as her ten second laughter subsided.

"Just my pride," he groused as they both returned their blades to the ice.

Clara brushed the ice from the back of his coat and the Doctor chuckled throatily.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I'm just hoping there's as much ice on your bum as you've found on mine."

Clara slid closer so that their skates were touching and grinned coquettishly up at him. "Well, you could always check."

He grinned against her lips as she stretched upwards for a kiss and Clara squealed with surprise when the Doctor gave her bum a firm squeeze. She smacked him on the shoulder in retaliation and his arms flailed desperately at his sides as he once again lost his balance and fell back down onto the ice.

Clara was still laughing when they all returned their rental skates and venture back out into the park. The Doctor pinched her bum a bit harder once the soles of their shoes had returned to the pavement, and Clara squealed before leaning into him and continuing to cackle at his expense.

"Where to next?" she asked breathlessly before turning to Amy and Rory, who were also walking with their arms wrapped around each other.

"Food," Rory replied simply.

Amy and the Doctor both leaned their heads back and groaned in agreement.

"How do we feel about pizza?" Amy asked.

"Quite strongly," Clara responded with approval.

"Right!" Rory said excitedly. "Ooh, do you think River would like—"

They all stopped walking. Rory flinched like he'd been doused with cold water and stared guiltily at them all before bowing his head.

The Doctor grew tense in Clara's arms and he heaved a quiet sigh as all the air was sucked from their surroundings.

Clara wondered if this was what their entire trip would be like: awkward tension, repressed guilt, and constant reminders that she was just an understudy to the original woman in the Doctor's life. Clara bowed her head and unconsciously loosened her grip around the Doctor's arm, but then something wonderful happened—Amy laughed.

"14th Street or MacDougal?" she asked Rory, who acknowledged her attempt to diffuse the situation with a nod of gratitude.

"14th Street," he replied.

The Doctor laced his gloved fingers through Clara's and smiled tightly at her. Clara tentatively returned the smile as they continued walking through the park, hitting a few of the landmarks before catching the subway at the nearest station.

They spent the night in watching Christmas movies and preparing some of the food for Christmas dinner. Clara fell asleep in the Doctor's arms in the middle of A Muppet Christmas Carol (the Doctor had always preferred the Muppet one), which was when they all decided to turn in for the evening.

Rory was already in bed when Amy finally returned from the bathroom. She crawled under the covers next to him and pecked him on the lips before whispering, "Merry Christmas" as she settled against her pillow.

"Merry Christmas," he replied, rolling onto his side to face her. "I can't stop thinking about earlier."

"In the Park?" Amy asked, although she didn't need a reminder to know what he was talking about. "Don't worry about it."

"I don't even know what happened. I just sort of…"

"You didn't think," Amy said simply. "It's OK. The Doctor didn't seem too upset."

"Yeah, but Clara did."

"Did she?" Amy replied with surprise. "I didn't notice."

"Yeah, well you were too busy worrying about him." Rory tried not to sound bitter, because he wasn't, really. Amy had worried over the Doctor for the past two years from the opposite side of the Atlantic Ocean; he knew nothing would stop her. "I don't want to make her feel like she's not welcome."

"I don't think she feels that way," Amy said. "I hope she doesn't. I'm trying really, really hard."

Rory adopted a puzzled look. "Is it that difficult to make her feel welcome?"

"No, but…" Amy sighed. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to mention anything to anyone, especially not to the Doctor?"

Rory didn't answer right away; he was afraid to. He searched Amy's gaze for signs of danger and then threw caution to the wind and nodded. He wasn't too surprised by the words she whispered into his ear, keeping her voice low in fear that her voice would carry through the walls, but still his eyes widened at the news.

"Oh. Wow. That's… great?"

Amy nodded in agreement, her eyes wide and her lips pressed into a firm line. And then, in a flash, her face crumpled and she started to cry.

"Amy…" Rory said soothingly, pulling his wife into his arms as she wept against his shoulders.

"She's gone, Rory," she sobbed. "River's dead."

Rory released a sigh and rubbed Amy's back. Despite how painful it was to hear his wife sobbing on Christmas Eve, it was almost like a gift. Amy had been holding back her feelings about River's death for over two years now. Moving to New York had helped her distance herself from the event, and there were often times when she said something about River that made it sound like she were still alive. Rory had never been good at talking to her about these things; his way of dealing had been to never talk about it if he could help it. It was that part of his personality that had worried him, because he'd felt that Amy needed someone to talk to about it and he wasn't properly equipped.

The Doctor was awoken at four in the morning when Clara's phone rang. With a groan, he rolled over and wrapped his arm around her while she answered the call, which was from her father. The Doctor muttered something that was supposed to sound like "Doesn't he know what time it is in New York?" as Clara chuckled softly into the receiver. She wished her dad a Merry Christmas and said the same to her Gran, whom the Doctor could hear chastising her father for waking Clara up so early in the morning.

When she hung up, Clara rolled over to face him and he pushed her hair away from her neck as they both sighed tiredly.

"Honestly," Clara muttered.

She shut her eyes and the Doctor chuckled. He then brought her fingers to his lips for a gentle kiss that prompted her to open her eyes and she smiled when she met his gaze.

"It feels weird to be awake at this hour on Christmas Day," she said.

"I know," he replied. "Although it's nine o'clock back home."

Clara groaned irritably at the reminder of her father's phone call.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I uh, just wanted to check. I worry you might feel…" He searched for the right words. "Out of place."

"Well, we are in a different country."

The Doctor laughed softly. "No, I know, but I mean—"

"I know what you mean."

"Ah. Good. We understand each other." He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles and watched her apprehensively. "Are you… are you happy?"

Clara gave him a puzzled look and propped her head up with her free hand. "What do you mean?"

"With… with me?"

The Doctor was grateful to see an incredulous grin form on her lips. "Of course I am. What makes you think I wouldn't be?"

"Because my life is complicated," he replied. "More complicated than it should be, and I'm sure that's my fault. I don't wish to burden you…"

"Don't be silly," she replied. "Where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he answered quickly. "I just… I worry about you, that's all."

"Not as much as I worry about you," she countered playfully, but there was a sadness to her words. "Are you happy, Doctor?"

He inhaled slowly and splayed her fingers against his cheek and closed his eyes. He couldn't even fathom the words that were required to describe how happy she made him; he feared the day he really needed to. He knew his words would be inadequate.

So he nodded. Clara kissed him and he wrapped his arm around her when she tried to pull away. They grew breathless as their embrace deepened, and when the Doctor broke away to breathe, he lowered his lips to her jaw and neck, peppering her skin with gentle kisses.

Clara rolled onto her back and the Doctor pulled at the neckline of her nightshirt so he could lower his lips further down her chest. He released a shuddering breath against the swell of her breast as Clara ran her fingers through his hair.

The Doctor settled on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows as he kissed her deeply. Clara's hands slipped under the hem of his t-shirt and traced lazy circles against his skin, and she moaned softly against his lips when his hips bucked against hers.

Their bedroom door opened and the two gasped and pulled away from each other as a very naked Rory walked into the room.

"Rory!" the Doctor cried, gaping at the man.

Clara yelped in alarm and clung to the Doctor as Rory started pulling the comforter off their bed.

"Rory, what are you doing?!" the Doctor asked.

"Shh, it's alright. Go back to sleep," Rory insisted as he wrapped the comforter around himself like a poncho. "Shh."

He turned, walked out the door, and shut it behind him. The Doctor and Clara continued to stare at the door in shock as they listened to Rory's footsteps shuffling down the hallway until they heard Amy and Rory's bedroom door close.

Clara met the Doctor's eyes and then the two of them started bursting with hesitant laughter.

"Was he… Was he sleepwalking?" Clara asked.

"I really hope so."

"He was naked."

The Doctor grimaced. "I know."

"Do you think we'll get our comforter back?"

"I don't think I want it now I've seen where it's been."

Clara shut her eyes and laughed silently. The Doctor smiled down at her and wished they hadn't been interrupted, but couldn't help but join her in laughing at the odd occurrence. He kissed her briefly before rising from the bed and puttering about the dark room in search of the spare blankets Rory had pointed out to him when they first arrived. He then climbed back into bed with Clara and draped the blankets over their bodies as they curled into each other.

"I'll put up a bigger fight if he comes back."

"Good."

Later that morning, Amy awoke to find their blue comforter draped across the end of their bed and her naked husband sleeping soundly beside her.

"Rory? Isn't that the comforter from the Doctor and Clara's bed?"

"Hmm?" he replied groggily as he cracked his eyes open and sat up.

When he saw the comforter his eyes grew round and he muttered a horrified "Oh my god" that prompted Amy to groan and drop her face in her hands with embarrassment.

"Not again, Rory!"