December 22nd

"Okay. So," Clara clasped her hands in each other and wrung them together, slowly making her way across from her bedroom to the living room, where the Doctor was sprawled out on the sofa reading The Adventures of Robin Hood for perhaps the fourth time that day. "Here's the thing."

He never glanced up from his read. Didn't even seem to take notice that she'd spoken. "I'm still not convinced that that bloke was the real thing, you know." He muttered, brow furrowed in thought. "Very well could have been a Nestene Duplicate. It would make more sense than he did."

The mutual act of simply not caring what the other was saying continued on. "We've all got our traditions," Clara carried on. "For some its-"

"If you're about to ask me to kiss you under the mistletoe, I'm moving out."

"No, you idiot." Clara sighed, feeling a sot of disappointment of which she couldn't quite pinpoint the origin. "I've got a bit of tradition of my own, and decided to give you a fair warning in advance."

"And why exactly do I need a warning?" The Doctor lowered the book to look at her with owlish eyes.

She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers lightly against her bicep. "Before my Mum died, we'd always spend the three days before Christmas at home. We'd watch Christmas movies, mainly. And even after she died, I decided to-"

"-Stop." The Doctor silenced her mid-sentence. Before Clara could react he was on his feet, long index finger pressed against her lips "Shush." She knew that she'd only be filled with more reasons to be irritated with him in the moment if she tried to talk, so reluctantly complied. "Now," He continued on. "Are you about to ask me to watch Christmas movies with you for three days?"

She began to reply, to explain to him that she didn't expect him to sit around with her for days and do nothing but stare at the telly. She just planned to ask him to tolerate it long enough to not bother her.

"-Ah." He stopped her once again as soon as she began to talk, this time covering her mouth with his entire palm. "Just nod or shake your head. Yes or no?" Clara's eyes went wide and she mumbled something inaudible against his hand, but he just shushed her again. "Yes or No?"

After a moment of uncomfortable shuffling, Clara found herself nodding. And to her considerable surprise, the Doctor just smiled.

"Okay then." He grinned in a way that in fact did not say 'drop dead' as she'd expected it to. Instead he just gave her cheek a friendly pat and sat himself down on the sofa before she could say anything else. "Well don't just stand there. Let's get this started! Oh, and close your mouth while you're at it. You'll catch flies, dear."

They were already on their third film of the day and the Doctor... wasn't flailing uncomfortably. Sure, his constant chatter got a bit annoying, but that was as far as he went. He'd actually managed to sit completely still for nearly three hours, now. Clara was more than impressed.

"I did that once." He said, gesturing to the oversized elf on the screen eating gum from underneath a railing in New York City. "Remind me to never do it again."

"If we ever go to New York together, I'll be sure to remind you of just that." Clara promised with a little laugh, patting his arm and giving him a mockingly soft look that said, Bless.

"Syrup on spaghetti..." His eyes lit up in a sort of frightening way. He looked down at the woman beside him who was comfortably relaxed against his side. "Can we have that for dinner?"

"That's disgusting!" Clara argued.

"You're saying to a man who is obsessed with fish fingers dipped in custard." He pointed out with the slight tilt of his head. "That's no weirder."

"I didn't know you still liked that." She gave a little hum of interest, then the two fell silent as the movie continued on.

"Please don't fall asleep on me." The Doctor warned as he noticed her blinking a bit more frequently than normal. "You're considerably heavier than you look, actually. I don't fancy carrying you all the way to your room again. Honestly, lighten up on the sandwiches."

"You're one to talk!" She laughed, shifting herself up to a more comfortable position but still resting her head on what part of his shoulder she could reach.

The film carried on. The people sang Christmas carols, the father quit being a huge grump, the elf got the girl, and they all saved Christmas.

"Aw, what a sweet ending." The Doctor said sarcastically, smiling with forced sweetness and blinking several times out of annoyance. He glanced down at Clara, waiting for some scowling remark at his 'impatience' or 'inability to enjoy a nice film'. But she was staring blankly ahead, body limp, and her eyes began to flutter closed. "Oi." He jerked his shoulder a few times until her eyes opened back up. "I don't mind you laying on me, but if you fall asleep, I'm not moving you."

"'Kay." Was all she said, yawning in the process. She sat up and stretched, then laid against his side again.

"Don't fall asleep."

"I won't."

"If you're tired, just go to bed."

"No."

His eyes widened a bit and he stared at her incredulously. "What?"

"No." She laughed tiredly. "I don't want to get up, and you're more comfortable than you look," She began, sliding down until her head was in his lap. "So you want me to move, you gotta carry me."

"I just got done saying that-"

"Yeah, about that." She shrugged. "I don't really care."

"Clara." The Doctor groaned, poking at her back. "Get up."

"No."

"I can't get up with you laying all over me like this."

"That's you're problem, not mine."

"Oh, for the love of..." He sighed, banging his clenched fist against the arm of the couch. "Okay! You win!" He tried to ignore her victorious smirk as he placed his hands under her shoulders moving her into a sitting position before slipping his arms under her and lifting her up. "I wasn't joking." He frowned. "Lay off the sandwiches."

"Shut up." Clara giggled and laid her head against his chest, still smiling the whole way to the bedroom. "Thank youuu." She chimed once they arrived at her bedside, and laughed when she was dropped straight onto the mass of pillows.

"Yeah, whatever." He grumbled. "Wait, why did I carry you all the way in here instead of leaving you on the couch?"

"Gotta ask yourself that, Time Lord."

He frowned at first, but a slightly amused grin managed to flicker across his face. "Get some sleep."

"Yes, Doctor." She chuckled, but buried herself in her blankets and closed her eyes obediently.