Note: Please offer your reviews to give me joy and motivation to finish it. I'm not above begging.

Disclaimer: None of the characters, some of the dialogue, or storylines are mine, etc. etc. If they were Twelve and Clara would've made out by now. The UST is just killing me. Also I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. I will most likely obsessively re-read this chapter after posting it and continuously tweak all of my grammatical errors.

Chapter 1

Clara could only stare in wonder at the entrance of the Doctor. He had made quite the entrance, and was now passing out gifts to all the families that were assembled at the Christmas tree lighting. Her eyes never left him as he slowly made his way around the room, and she had the distinct feeling that he knew her eyes were fixed on him the entire time.

Eventually she began to realize that he was avoiding her, much like she was doing to Danny. He had distributed fantastical presents to every single villager present - including Danny - except her. Clara frowned at the thought. She was never good at subtlety in her personal life. She preferred the direct approach.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The Doctor looked, seemingly unaffected or surprised by her sudden appearance by his side.

"Away," he said, vaguely waving his hand in the air for added emphasis.

Clara glared disapprovingly at him.

"Are you cross with me?" the Doctor asked as his eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

"I am not cross. But if I was cross it would be your fault," Clara said in one breath, before adding, "And yes I am cross."

"I guessed that," the Doctor said bitingly, frowning.

"I am extremely cross," Clara said again with added emphasis.

"And if I hadn't left would you be cross?" the Doctor asked bitterly.

"I would be cross if I wasn't cross." Clara responded acidly. His question had thrown her for a loop, but she had five years of resentment built up in her that weren't going to go down peacefully.

The Doctor's frown deepened as he realized how angry Clara really was at him. But then he saw what was clearly and proudly displayed on her neck.

"You kept it," he said quietly, decidedly changing the subject.

Clara sent him a withering look.

"Of course I did. Don't be stupid," she said, masking her feelings of hurt with a tone of resentment at his question. Did he honestly think that he meant so little to her that five years would be enough to forget him?

The Doctor coughed awkwardly, and the tension between them began to rise, neither knowing what to say. There was outward chaos all around them as the villagers played with their toys in a rhythmic, almost choreographed way. They were all enjoying the dolls and other inventions the Doctor had presented them with, and were too entranced to notice their giver's inner chaos which was caused by the girl standing next to him.

Clara's eyes wandered around the town square, determined not to look at the man standing next to her. She was not going to be responsible for keeping their conversation going when he was clearly going to be obtuse about their previous relationship and why he left.

It was only because of her roving eyes that she spied it, tucked away in the corner of his sled, partially still under the sparkling cover. A mysterious looking box that looked almost forgotten, yet she was drawn to it.

She moved towards his sled without excusing herself from his presence. After all, he did not offer her the same courtesy five years ago. She could feel him following her with his eyes, but she did not turn around. Instead, she eagerly bent forward to pick up the box before she was stopped by a large hand on her shoulder.

Startled she looked behind her and saw that it was the Doctor. Clearly he had followed her with more than just his eyes, but moved quite stealthily. She hadn't even heard him come up behind her.

"Don't," he said simply, gesturing with his eyes towards the box still lying on the sled.

"Why?" she asked.

At her request he suddenly seemed shy, and although she couldn't tell for sure in the dim light of the candles, she thought she saw a reddened hue to his cheeks.

After a moment's pause, and taking a deep sigh, he removed his hand from her shoulder. In a move which surprised Clara, he stooped himself to pick up the box and present it to her.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically at him. What could possibly be in the box that he didn't want her to open but that he had brought along anyways?

Suddenly the Doctor found his black boots to be the most fascinating subject in the world as Clara opened the box.

Nestled inside the container was the most beautiful nutcracker she had ever seen. It had painted on dark trousers with black boots and a deep, midnight blue coat with silver epaulettes and fastenings. However, one could still detect a flash of red lining on the inside of it. On it's head there was a somber black cap, with a shock of white hair sticking out from underneath. It had blue eyes the same shade as the Doctor's, and Clara was suddenly struck by his resemblance to it.

She was drawn to it. Inexplicably drawn to it. And she was overcome with the feeling that she had to have it.

She stroked its hair lovingly, and caressed the detail on the face as the Doctor watched her with an odd expression on his face. If Clara had torn her gaze away from the nutcracker she would have seen a strange mixture of longing and apprehension on the Doctor's face.

"It's yours," the Doctor said quietly.

Clara looked up in alarm. She hadn't even asked, but it was like the Doctor already knew what she was going to say.

"I mean," the Doctor began again, clearly frustrated with his lack of communicating what he wanted, "If you want it. It's always been yours ever since I...acquired it. But I wasn't sure if there would ever be a time to give it to you. A time if you'd ever want it. Or need it."

His sentences trailed off at the end, and he began to fidget with the ring on his finger as Clara stared at him. She hadn't noticed that he wore a ring before now. She wondered if he had been wearing it the entire time, and for some reason it made her heart sink.

"I love it. It's perfect," Clara said softly, hugging the nutcracker close to her chest, "Thank you Doctor."

She dropped her eyes as the Doctor raised his. Clara's anger had all but evaporated with the gift, and she seemed suddenly withdrawn. It was very unlike his Cla - her. It was very unlike her. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but decided against it. After all, between the two of them she was the one who was better at emotional comfort. He shifted awkwardly on his feet and gestured vaguely behind him.

"I should-"

"Yeah, me too."

But as she walked away Clara still had the distinct impression that his gaze never left her.

...

For the rest of the night Clara studiously chose to avoid the Doctor, and she had a feeling he was doing the same to her. She was conversing distractedly with her friends, clutching the nutcracker close to her chest. However, her eyes were still drawn to him. After their awkward separation he was unable to skulk off, as she suspected he wanted to, because the children began to surround him.

Clara watched the young ones hug his knees and thank him for their gifts. He looked bewildered at their thanks, but somehow didn't look as out of place as Clara thought he would. In fact, he seemed surprisingly good with the children which made Clara conceal a small smile behind her hand as she spied him.

"Clara?" Amy prodded Clara, "What are you smiling at?"

She glanced over towards where Clara was looking and frowned. Even after five years of him all but abandoning her, Clara clearly wasn't over him.

Clara could feel her friend's disapproving glare at her.

"Amy don't-" Clara began, but Amy cut her off.

"Clara don't give me that rubbish. We all thought that Danny would help you forget about that strange man. And really, after five years-"

"Amy, while I appreciate you trying to nose your way into my personal life I really can't see how it's any of your business," Clara sniffed.

She loved her ginger friend, but dear Lord she was nosy.

While Clara was distracted by Amy she didn't notice Danny sidle up beside her until he spoke, "What do you have there Clara?"

Clara jumped at his voice and turned guiltily towards Danny. He was painfully, obviously trying to make small talk, but it wasn't working for him. Nevertheless, Clara took pity on him and said, "The Doctor gave it to me. It's a nutcracker."

Danny frowned as soon as she said the Doctor's name.

"Can I see it?"

Gingerly, Clara passed it over to him. She was loathe to relinquish it, but could not think of a polite way to refuse Danny. Earlier that morning had proved that enough, anyways.

She watched Danny carefully as he eyed the small device. He poked and prodded at it before finally declaring, "I don't much like it. It looks a bit like your space dad."

Space dad was Danny's nickname for the Doctor. Apparently he had stumbled upon her and the Doctor star gazing one night, and he derisively chose to combine the Doctor's love of science and the stars with his physical appearance. After the Doctor mysteriously vanished Danny had taken to calling him that in an attempt to help Clara feel better. But if anything it made her feel more miserable. The Doctor's love of the stars was hardly something to scoff at, and his age was just a number to her. He behaved like a five year old at times so between his behaviour and his actual age, she figured he balanced out to be about perfect for her.

Frowning, Clara reached out for her doll, "May I have it back now, please?"

Danny made to give it back to her, but at that precise moment a mouse decided to scurry underfoot and made Danny stumble. He lost his grip on the nutcracker as it landed with a hollow thunk on the cobbled stones.

Clara looked on in horror. There was nothing she could do about it, and it looked like the nutcracker had broken its arm in the fall.

She gently scooped it up and fastened her handkerchief into a makeshift sling for the doll. Turning away from Danny, she made to immediately go back inside her house.

"Clara!" Danny called out, "Clara! I'm sorry!"

Clara turned, pausing in her path to her house.

"It's fine," she said curtly, "But it's getting late so I'm headed off to bed."

And with that she went back to her house, nutcracker safely tucked between her arms, and the Doctor's gaze steadily following her receding figure towards her house.

When Clara reached the steps to her door she was too exhausted and emotionally drained to change or do anything more than collapse on the settee in the parlour by the fireplace. Men. Particularly the men in her life.

She dragged a blanket that was hanging over the back of a nearby chair for herself and began to close her eyes. The nutcracker was cradled in her arms, and before shutting her eyes Clara whispered to it, "I promise first thing in the morning we'll have the Doctor take a look at you and fix you right up."

...

The clock in the hall struck twelve.

DONG!

Clara woke up with a start, accidentally knocking the nutcracker off its place by her side on the settee. She rubbed her eyes, looking up at the clock face when suddenly the numbers seemed to be getting farther and farther away until the clock tower looked like a skyscraper. Confused, she looked around.

The chair she had been sleeping on had become a vast plain of velvet upholstery, and the gap between her and the floor became a fall that she could break a leg from. Startled and bewildered, Clara blinked her eyes twice again.

Nope, it was real.

DONG!

As the last chime had rung, suddenly Clara noticed movement by the base of the towering Christmas tree. Squinting, she realized that the room was filled with mechanical men, seemingly battling wooden toy soldiers. All of them had been seemingly tucked in between the wrapped presents already placed on the ground.

Wanting to get a closer look, Clara quickly shimmied down the leg of the chair, and crept towards the thick of the battle.

HI-YAH!

Fierce battle cries rose amongst the soldiers as the mechanical men were ruthless in their pursuit against them. Swords clashed and fists punched as the chaos overwhelmed Clara's senses. Where had all of these strange contraptions come from? And how did she shrink?

Clara was so caught up in all of these questions that she had failed to immediately notice that her nutcracker was at the eye of the storming battle raging around him. However, once she realized it was her nutcracker, she quickly snuck over to his side.

He cut a dashing figure, with his midnight blue coat and magic silver baton that had a green light on the end of it. The red lining of his jacket occasionally flashed as he twirled around the battleground. He seemingly appeared to take out six of the mechanical men at once. His moves were too calculated and coordinated to be a work of spontaneity, and his eyes flashed, his eyebrows furrowed, at all of his opponents. However, the most noticeable thing about him was that he looked incredibly like the Doctor, and his arm was in a sling.

Clara continued to watch, mesmerized by what was going on around her, until she noticed something wrong. The toy soldiers seemed to be losing to the metal men, who were also ever so slowly gaining on the Doctor. He was being slowly backed up against a wall by his opponents; still at a disadvantage since he could only fight with one arm.

She didn't have time to think about her actions. On instinct, Clara ran towards the nutcracker, dodging and weaving her way in and out of soldiers, with only one thought: Protect Him.

But she knew that she was too small to run to him in time. The metal men were steadily advancing on the nutcracker, and he seemed to be struggling with his silver wand, waving and shouting at his enemy to no avail.

So she did the first thing that came to her head. She took her shoe and threw it at the figure who seemed to be the leader of the other metal people.

As soon as her shoe hit it with a hollow thud, the metal man, and all the rest of them turned around and focused on her.

Clara gulped. She had not thought about what would happen after she threw her shoe at them. All she had thought about was saving the nutcracker. Nervously she looked around, noticing how the metal men were advancing on her slowly but surely, boxing her in.

However, just when she thought the end was coming she heard a triumphant sounding, "Ah ha!" along with a whirring noise. Instantly, all of the metal men slumped over, face down, as if their source of power had been turned off. Looking in the direction of the noise, Clara saw the nutcracker standing triumphantly, with his silver wand raised high in the air.

Finally, the whirring stopped and with it, Clara's consciousness as she received a good hit to the back of her head.

...

Clara blinked slowly as two images of a fierce set of eyebrows and wide eyes were swirling around. She tried to sit up, but was forced to lie down with a firm, but gentle pressure on her shoulder.

"Easy there lass," a familiar voice said in a brusque accent.

Confused, Clara blinked again and suddenly the two images merged into one, and she began to make out the whole face of the -

"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, before putting a hand to her temple and groaning loudly.

'No loud noises for a while', she thought.

She saw the faintest outline of a smile on the figure's face, "Aye."

Clara tried to sit up again, but this time the Doctor helped her slowly upright, with the warm pressure of his hand on her back.

She drank in his image, but as she did so she immediately noticed that his arm was bandaged up just like her nutcracker's arm. And as she looked around, she noticed that the tree was still as tall as a mountain, and the chair's seat was similarly out of reach. She also realized that the metal men and wooden soldiers had vanished without a trace.

Frowning slightly, Clara asked, "What happened to the metal men? Why is the tree so tall? And why is your arm in that sling?"

The Doctor chuckled, "Are you sure the tree is tall? Maybe you're just extremely short."

Annoyed, Clara raised her eyebrow. She could tell that the Doctor was deliberately avoiding her questions.

"Doctor," she began, but he cut her off.

"Now, there's no time to waste. If I know him at all it's that the cybermen will be back, and UNIT will not be able to help us. We need to get out of here," he said.

If possible, Clara was even more puzzled than before.

"What are cybermen? Who are UNIT? Where on earth can we go? We're in my house in the middle of town-" Clara said, but was once again halted from finishing her questions by the Doctor yanking on her arm, and pulling her to her feet.

Still a bit woozy, the sudden change in angle made Clara sway on her feet. Instantly, she felt the Doctor by her side, steadying her with his good hand. Once she was stable the Doctor spoke again.

"No time to explain. I need you, for a thing. Come on come on come on!" he hurried her towards the base of the Christmas tree, but still hovered nearby just in case.

Once she got closer to the boxes of presents, Clara noticed he was leading them towards a specific spot towards the back of the tree. Behind some of the larger gifts, there was a small, but large by their standard, brilliant blue box. It had intricate silver, circular designs on the outside, topped by a small blue and silver bow that seemed to glow. In the side of the box there was clearly a door cut into the side of it.

Leaving her side, the Doctor went towards the box, drawing out a small silver key from the inside of his jacket. He opened the door, making his way inside without looking back.

Clara hesitated, though. What on earth was inside the box? Why did he go inside of it? And why wouldn't he answer any of her questions?

However, before she could finish her internal debate, the Doctor popped his head out of the door, "Well are you just going to stand there? Come on, we don't have all day! You'll just have to squeeze through."

Clara raised her eyebrows skeptically, but her curiosity won out as she followed after him.

~to be continued~