*Okay so I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger. But this is the Christmas chapter and the Doctor and Clara enjoy Christmas together. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did. As ever, thanks to my readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters. Two weeks until the end (and a week until 11 regenerates...) TPD*

Christmas was almost upon them and Clara was so excited. She hadn't been excited for Christmas since she was a kid. When she was younger, she's always loved the holidays, throwing herself downstairs at 7am every Christmas Day to throw open her presents and yell at her parents to hurry up and join her as they trudged down, muttering about whose turn it was to make the coffee. Even when she'd been a teenager, Christmas had been a special time for Clara, her enthusiasm for the holidays seemingly unstoppable. Until her mum died. After that, Clara had struggled to muster any sort of enthusiasm for the Christmas period. Her dad had tried his hardest for a couple of years, but when Clara had turned 18, he gave up. Artie and Angie had managed to restore some of her Christmas spirit, but now that the Doctor was in her life, Clara felt for the first time in a long time like this Christmas was going to be magical. The build-up was in itself fantastic, as the Doctor took her to various snow-capped locations, from mountains to deserts of snow; from hot planets to cold ones. He took her to Victorian England, to spend Christmas with Vastra, Jenny and Strax; he took her to future Christmases and past Christmases. And then, as school ended and they reached the deep bowels of the holiday season, the Doctor really surprised Clara.

"I bumped into Artie the other day in the library," he informed her over breakfast one morning about a week before Christmas. "I invited the Maitlands over for Christmas, I hope that's alright." Clara almost choked on the crumpet she was eating. The Doctor leaned forwards to pat her back but she swallowed. "Is that not okay? I can always go back in the TARDIS and rugby-tackle myself. Possibly. I mean, there's a possibility that doing that would blow a hole in the universe but I'd be willing to try. I'm making a habit of not blowing the universe."

"No Doctor!" Clara spluttered, drinking tea to soothe her throat and regain her lung capacity. "I mean, that's wonderfully thoughtful. You know my Dad and Grandma are coming as well right? Where are we going to put everyone?"

"Well," the Doctor paused. "I could use the TA-"

"No."

"Please Clara," the Doctor tried again. "She's got an infinite amount of bedrooms and the kids already know about the time travel. Your grandma can have our bed, the kids can have the spare room, your dad and Mr Maitland can have the sofas and you and me can pile into the TARDIS."

"No!" Clara giggled. "The Maitlands only live ten minutes away. It'll be good to have them over for Christmas dinner but they'll have to go home. You and I can share a sofa. Whatever Dad says, don't let him let us have the bedroom."

"Fine," the Doctor pouted. "When was the last time you saw Artie? I got the impression he missed you. Either that or he was choking on his chewing gum…No wait he was choking on his chewing gum; I had to give him the Heimlich."

Clara chose to ignore that little anecdote, as imagining Artie choking wasn't on her to do list. "I've not seen the kids for a few months," she mused, slightly upset by the thought. "It'll be good to catch up with them. We could take them somewhere nice after Christmas," she smiled. "As long as you promise that we won't end up in the middle of a bloody Cyber War again. Otherwise Mr Maitland will throw you into a supernova and I'll have to find a new boyfriend with a time machine so whenever I need to pop back to Ancient Greece to top up my tan there's one available." The Doctor pulled a face at this. "I'm kidding Chin-Boy."

"What about Santa's Grotto?" the Doctor grinned. "They can meet Santa!"

"I'm going to assume you're joking and leave it there. If Santa's real he has far better things to do!" Clara scolded. "What about, I dunno a theme park or something? In fact never mind, that went so well last time!" she said sarcastically. "But seriously Doctor, thank you for inviting them. I thought you'd be all, let's sneak out into the TARDIS and shoot off to Jupiter or something."

"Nah, Jupiter's rubbish, just a big ball of gas. Now Mars, Mars is a lot more interesting, especially at Christmas. You'd love Martian Christmas Clara…" he trailed off before taking a sip of tea and smiling warmly at her. "I promise, this Christmas, we'll do things your way. Just you, me, the family, Christmas dinner. Presents under the tree, the whole shebang. We can resume our travels on Boxing Day, when your family is gone."

"Doctor," Clara giggled. "I love you. You know that, but my Dad is staying for a week." His face fell and he started stammering. "I've already promised him. And no, before you ask, we can't sneak off in the TARDIS while he's in the bathroom. And no, we can't take him on a trip to Mars for Martian Christmas and no; we cannot take my grandma to the knitting planet you keep subtly suggesting. She hates knitting. And she's not allowed to know about the TARDIS. But also, she hates knitting."

He grumbled a bit after that, but once they were in the TARDIS, he cheered up a bit. He was using the holidays as an opportunity to take Clara to every single Christmas he could think of. That day, he took her to three: the Martian Christmas he promised her, where they were shot at by Ice Warriors, then he took her to see the birth of Jesus and she was forced to help him deliver the baby while Herod's guards tried to kill them and then finally, a Christmas on a faraway planet known as Lucipus, where they were interrupted by an erupting volcano.

"Sorry, sorry!" the Doctor yelled as he hopped up and down, removing his shoes and wiping ash from his bow tie. "I didn't get my timings quite right!"

"You think?" Clara snapped, clutching her singed hair and smearing volcanic ash from her face. "Another few seconds and I'd have been a barbeque. I think I still look like a barbeque and frankly," she sniffed. "Yep, I do in fact smell like a barbeque. Plus, I'd been growing my hair for six months. And look at it now!"

"It looks no different," the Doctor insisted, but the flinch he had made when Clara pointed it out betrayed him. "Okay, but it's nothing we can't fix. I know a wonderful little hairdresser in 1962…"

"Typical," Clara muttered darkly. "My dad spent half my childhood trying to keep my hair at a manageable length and then finally when I'm allowed to grow it, you pitch up and burn it all off. And to think, I thought the years of awful bobs were beyond me."

"They are," the Doctor insisted. "This will be an exquisite bob, produced by the finest hairdressing stylist in all of history!"

"I hate you sometimes."

The doorbell rang for the fourth time before Clara finally escaped the shower. The Doctor tried to yank her back as she giggled and stumbled away, wrapping a towel around her before opening the door to Captain Jack Harkness. She beckoned him in as he shot her a flirty look and winked at the Doctor, who came staggering out into the hall after her, wearing a t-shirt and shorts that were very un-Doctory. He did have a bow tie in his hand though. They'd been expecting Jack; he'd left a message on the Doctor's psychic paper, warning them he was coming.

"My dad will be here in a few hours," Clara warned the Doctor as she headed back into the bedroom to change. "So whatever scheme you're pulling, I want you presentable by then. It's December 23rd," she reminded him at his confused face. "Dad's staying until the 29th so behave."

"The missus has spoken," Jack teased as the Doctor rolled his eyes and fumbled with the bow tie. "So, I just came over to say Happy Christmas. And," he lowered his voice. "To drop this off. As requested. This'll knock the old guy out for a good 15 hours. If Clara gets suspicious, I have something for that too. But that'll cost you extra."

"No," the Doctor hissed, grinning despite himself. "I don't want to drug Clara."

Jack shrugged cheekily. "Your loss my friend. You know where I am if you need me. Oh and by the way, U.N.I.T have found the TARDIS again. They've taken her to their Colchester base. It's only a matter of time until they storm the place looking for you."

"They have Clara's personnel files," the Doctor replied. "And I've warned them what will happen if they enter these premises. They wouldn't dare. I made Kate promise. A promise that if she breaks, I will empty the black archive. I didn't say how."

"Okay, well I stole her back for you," Jack grinned and the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Thanks for letting me keep my key."

"Thanks for repeatedly breaking into extremely secure and dangerous locations and stealing back my TARDIS from U.N.I.T," the Doctor grinned. "Find anything good while you were in there? A fez perhaps?"

"Consider it your Christmas present," Jack chuckled and the Doctor jumped to his feet and did a little dance of celebration. "It's on the console. Right, I'd best be off." he stood as Clara re-entered, towelling her short hair fiercely and smiling warmly at Jack. She was wearing a woolly cardigan and a long skirt. The Doctor wondered why she was so covered up, but he suspected it may have something to do with the fact that Dave was arriving. If she was going to be covered up all week, the Doctor suspected he might have sonic something. He'd taken back the sonic he'd given Clara for modifications, as she'd kept chirping on about the pink thing and also the fact that it required a software update. There were certain functions he was neglecting to give Clara and didn't want the automatic updates to accidently give her the ability to blow up doors by accident and the like. She was only human after all.

"Goodbye Jack," Clara smiled and hugged him, ignoring the Doctor's narrowed eyes. "Have a great Christmas. Don't drink too much!"

"You too, you rowdy bastards!" he chuckled, waving them off as he left, whistling a tune as he did so.

"What was that about?" Clara asked, eyebrow raised, arms crossed. Bugger. He was caught. Okay Doctor, he could get out of this without having to lie to her. He couldn't lie to Clara, she was far too good at seeing through his lies for her own good. Or for his own good. It was an irritating trait of hers. Irritating, but one of the reasons he loved her.

"Oh you know," the Doctor shrugged. "U.N.I.T stole the TARDIS again, Jack pinched it back, saved me the trouble. And," he grinned now and Clara smirked. "Jack got me a fez!"

"Okay then, I wish they'd stop doing that." Clara shook her head, smiling and wandered into the kitchen. The Doctor breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Oh and Doctor?" He looked up as she poked her head out of the kitchen door and smiled sickly sweet at him. "If you even think about slipping my dad one of those pills, I'll set fire to all my lingerie and have the TARDIS take us to the planet of the celibates for a month or so. I don't know if there is a planet of the celibates, but you know…"

"Actually," the Doctor replied. "The planet of the celibates is very poorly named. All they seem to do there is participate in orgies with clones of themselves. They're celibate because they only have sex with those that are pure, as in themselves and you really were being rhetorical weren't you? I should shut up shouldn't I?"

"Little bit Chin-Boy, you're on thin ice. Pills?"

The Doctor grumbled a bit more as he went into the kitchen and handed Clara the pot of pills, which she lobbed into the bin. He kissed her cheek and she shot him an amused smirk, her eyes flashing dangerous. He sensed that she still hadn't completely forgiven him for the volcano incident. He didn't know why she was so upset about the whole thing, he'd lost a good bow tie that day, despite his best attempts to make them non-flammable. He'd have to work on that formula when he got a spare minute. Clara breezed past him, humming Silent Night under her breath. It reminded the Doctor about the previous Christmas and he shuddered upon remembering it. His last Christmas in exile. Before he'd met her. Well the echo her. He still remembered that first kiss. It had been breathless, heat of the moment and it had felt very different to what he'd experienced with the real Clara. He'd expected Clara's kisses to be like that of her Victorian echo, so it had been a pleasant surprise when they were so much deeper. As the Doctor thought more about the Clara who had fallen from his cloud in the sky, he didn't realise the real Clara was staring at him.

"Doctor?" she asked concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"I was just thinking about last Christmas," he informed her. "With Clara Oswin Oswald. You, but not you. The other Clara. The one who…"

"Who pulled you out of your slump and sent you on your mission to find me?" Clara smiled. "It's a weird situation. Do you think of her as me?"

It was an odd question, one that the Doctor wasn't prepared for. The more he thought about it, the less sure he was of the answer. The girl had shared a lot in common with Clara, but she had, at the end of the day, just been an echo. The Doctor pondered it for a moment before strolling over to Clara and cupping her cheek with his hand, brushing a lock of hair out of her eye. He kissed Clara's forehead and went to go upstairs to change, before leaning against the bannister and coming up with his answer.

"I think of her as identical to you," he replied. "She's you in every sense. But she's not mine. She's Clara. But she's not my Clara. She's not you. I owe her a lot, but when I think of what she did for me, I remind myself that you made it happen. It might not have been you that was her, but you are responsible for everything she did. And I love you more for that. Knowing that other versions of you are running around with me and putting yourself through that torment, amongst others, just to save me. She was Clara. You are my Clara. And I love you more than anything."

"I can picture those lives," Clara told him, causing him to stop halfway up the stairs. He jumped down and moved over to her, pulling her into a light hug and standing face-to-face with her, intent to listen. "But I don't see them as me. And they're not my memories. It's like…" she paused. "They're a film. Like I watched them die over and over again for you, knowing it's me, but not feeling it. I don't have nightmares. I don't remember. I just see. Like remembering a film you've watched. You can feel for the characters, but they're not you. So…" Clara breathed deeply. "I'm glad you don't consider them me. Because I don't consider them me. Just…"

"They're fragments Clara," the Doctor told her, kissing her forehead again. "Echoes. And you can't remember or feel an echo, you can only hear it. And it's harsh. Because for them, their entire existence was to save me and die. And you have none of the pain of it, but get all of the credit. But that's not your fault, that's mine. If I hadn't extracted you from my time stream, you would have dissolved into more echoes until there was nothing left. I got to you in time, dragged you out. I spared you the agony, as far as I could. Don't feel guilty Clara, be proud."

"I can be both," Clara smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you Doctor, for saving me. And for being there. And for giving me Christmas. I love you. My Doctor."

"And I love you. My Clara."

Dave Oswald arrived a few hours later, bringing with him a huge Christmas tree that he claimed he'd picked up a few minutes down the road, but Clara suspected he'd picked up back in Blackpool. He wasn't entirely trusting of London. Too close to the government. The Doctor helped him bring it in and they put it up in the living room. They decorated it and the Doctor was like a child on Christmas morning. Clara had never seen him so excited as they draped the tree in tinsel and hung baubles from branches. His enthusiasm was infectious and Clara giggled as her dad produced some of the decorations she'd loved most when she was a child and she hung them on the tree. When she was younger, Clara had always placed the fairy on the top of the tree, but she had always been too short so had had to sit on her father's shoulders. She hadn't told the Doctor this, but of course he already knew and before she could say anything, he picked up, kicking and squealing, as Dave handed her the fairy and she placed it on top of the tree. She leaned down to kiss the Doctor and he staggered, the pair of them tumbling backwards onto the sofa in a tangle of limbs. Dave looked stunned but roared with laughter when he realised they were okay as Clara popped up with a fit of giggles and the Doctor leapt to his feet, straightening his bow tie and trying to regain his composure.

"Doctor," Dave said quietly as Clara went to make hot chocolate for the three of them. "I just wanted to say thank you." The Doctor was puzzled and must've looked it because Dave elaborated. "Clara used to love Christmas," he explained. "But when her mum died, she stopped loving it. She went into her shell. It wasn't just Christmas, but life in general. Being with you, she's…she's alive again. And that's all thanks to you."

"To be honest with you Mr Oswald," the Doctor replied. "I was similar. This time last year, I was as miserable as one could be. I thought I was done. Finished. Life seemed not worth it any more. None of it was. I had no family, I'd lost the people closet to me. But then I met Clara," he smiled at the memory. "I think we ended up saving each other, and I've never been happier."

"Please," Dave smiled. "It's not Mr Oswald son. It's Dave. You're a part of our family now."

The Doctor still remembered the last time he'd spent Christmas with someone. It had been a long time ago, but it was with the Ponds. He'd pitched up on their doorstep, two years after faking his death. They'd saved a place for him at the table for Christmas dinner. They'd had no idea he was coming. They never did. But every year, every Christmas, there it would be. The space for the Doctor. They had leftover food waiting for him and an extra cracker and hat. He even had a stocking hung up over the fireplace. He had never understood the concept of having a family, even back when he'd had a family. He'd been young and grumpy and had never appreciated it. But in that moment, he'd realised. He'd become part of their family. And now, after so long, he was part of a family again. Clara's family. And he loved her. He didn't just love how she made him feel or what she gave him. He didn't just love that he had a family. He loved Clara. More than anything. He would do anything for her.

So when he met her grandmother, he did everything it was possible for him to do to be normal, to be human. And he failed miserably. He couldn't help it, he ended up ranting about how in the future, hip-replacement surgery was a bi-annual routine, like a trip to the dentist. Clara had sat there, failing equally miserably not to laugh while her dad looked on, utterly confused. Clara's grandmother had found his ramblings adorable and announced that he was allowed to be Clara's permanent boyfriend and that she could now start producing great-grandchildren. Clara had blushed crimson and the Doctor had spluttered for a good half a minute before she bailed him out. That night, Clara's father had insisted that the two have their own bedroom and that he would sleep on the sofa and eventually Clara relented, with absolutely zero support from the Doctor who instantly accepted Dave's proposal and her grandmother, who had hooted that if they could produce a great-grandchild that night that would be wonderful.

So when the Doctor woke up next to Clara on Christmas morning, it was in their bed. And he realised, he had stopped referring to it as her bed. He hadn't even realised he'd been doing that. She was wearing his pyjamas; they were covered in little bow ties. He smiled at the thought of it. His Clara. In his pyjamas. He didn't even care that the TARDIS was off-limits. This would be the best Christmas ever. He was about to shake her awake, but she rolled over to face him and her eyes were as alive and bright as his. They shared a childlike grin and Clara leapt out of bed, the Doctor two steps behind her. They tumbled into the lounge, whereby Dave woke with a start, grumbling as the two grown-up five year olds wrestled each other, almost colliding with the tree. They were momentarily joined by Clara's grandmother and the Doctor looked at Clara, pleadingly.

"Can we open the presents now?" he asked over and over.

"Not until the Maitlands get here," she told him. "They won't be long."

No sooner had she finished speaking the words, when the front door crashed open and Angie and Artie flew in, Mr Maitland a few steps behind, a mountain of presents in his hands and a wide smile on all their faces. The rest of that morning was a blur of present opening, laughs and childish behaviour. The Doctor took Clara to one side so they could open their presents from each other uninterrupted. She was scared but exhilarated. She handed him a wrapped up box.

"I thought what can I give the man who already has everything?" she told him, smiling with tears running down her face. "So I had two ideas. This is the first. You'll see the other in a moment."

"Okay," the Doctor grinned and opened the box. Inside, there were two bow ties. One was red and the other was blue. The Doctor's heart broke. They were identical to the ones he'd thrown out when Amy and Rory had… He'd thought that would never be able to wear them again…

"I found them at a little shop down the road," Clara smiled. "The blue one is you and the red one is me. I thought having a pair of bow ties this colour would fit you perfectly. You might need a different colour of jacket though, I think I saw a beige tweed one around the TARDIS somewhere. Are you okay?"

The Doctor had started crying. "Yes," he assured her. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just. They're…I had bow ties like this before. I threw them out. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to wear them again. Or the beige. Too much of the Ponds about them. But now," he promptly removed his bow tie and put the red one on. "They're making a return. And the beige. Because, Clara Oswald, I am the Doctor. And I will not let the past hold me back any longer. But mostly, and this is very important Clara, because bow ties are cool. Here, this is for you."

He had whipped a small box out of one of his pockets and she took it off of him. She unwrapped it cautiously. It was a sonic screwdriver. She shot him a sceptical and tearful smile. It was green.

"I decided," he said slowly. "No holding back. So I binned your sonic." She shot him a look at this. "And rather than give you a limited, rubbish, pink sonic screwdriver, I had the TARDIS copy mine. They're identical in every way. They're tuned into each other. When you have this, no matter how far we are apart, we can always signal each other, always find each other, and let the other know we're okay. If you use this sonic Clara, I'll know where you are instantly and vice versa. They're connected to our hearts, in a way."

She flung herself on him, kissing him deeply. She was about to tell him about her other present, her other surprise, when they were rudely interrupted by Angie, who cleared her throat and the two sprang apart. Angie rolled her eyes.

"There's someone here to see you Doctor," she informed him and he raised an eyebrow. "She has really odd hair."

The Doctor paled. He could feel Clara's grip on his arm turn to a vice and then fall away completely as Clara backed away from him, muttering 'No' repeatedly. The Doctor felt a wave of panic rush over him. Not here, not now. Please. No. And then, from behind Angie, she stepped out. Clara swore in English and the Doctor swore at the exact same moment in Gallifreyan. He hadn't sworn in Gallifreyan since he was a boy.

"Hello sweetie."