Author's Notes: Merry Christmas, whoufflepuffs! Told you I couldn't stay away forever. Hope you enjoy!

By the way, if you didn't catch it in the description - this is a sequel to my whouffle AU 'The IT Guy' - so you might be a little lost if you read this without having read it first!

Their flat had central heating, but even at night, Clara found herself curling against the Doctor's side to keep warm. He usually slept flat on his back with his limbs completely stretched out, save for the one arm raised over his head. It was always the arm closest to her, and Clara liked to think that even in his sleep he was inviting her curl up beside him. The best moments were when she'd settle against him with her head on his chest and he would his arm wrap around her shoulders while still asleep, releasing a sigh as if he'd been waiting for her. They often drifted apart before they woke up in the morning, but Clara lived for those moments in the night when they would find each other and settle into the other's warmth.

She awoke alone that morning, and even though the Doctor was often out of bed before she was, she had this sinking feeling that something was wrong.

She poked her head out of the bedroom door and spotted him in the kitchen next to the stove, still in his white t-shirt and sweatpants. Clara smiled tiredly at him as she entered the kitchen and he smiled tightly back, grinning a little broader when he took a second look at her.

"Nice shirt."

She looked down at the maroon shirt that was swallowing her and laughed lightly; it was one of his t-shirts from uni. "I rue the day you start wearing my clothes to bed."

"I don't know, I think I'd look really good in that lacy nightgown of yours."

She wrapped her arms around him and grinned against his neck as she stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss against his skin. "Good morning."

"Morning."

"Everything alright?"

"Fine. Just making tea."

She kept her arms looped around him and stared at the kettle bubbling on the stove. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's tea."

She frowned up at him. The Doctor sighed and scratched the side of his face with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her waist. "I got a call from Amy last night."

"Oh." Clara hadn't expected that. "Wow. Did you answer?"

The kettle whistled. The Doctor disentangled his arms from hers and removed the kettle from the burner before answering. "Yes."

"And how was it?"

He had his back to her, but she could tell he was smiling. "Good," he replied, fetching the milk from the fridge. "She um, she invited me to New York for Christmas."

"She what? Really?" she squeaked with surprise.

The last time the Doctor had mentioned any contact with his old friend was almost a year ago at Christmas. He talked about her all the time, but always in the past tense. Yeah, Amy and I used to go to this place all the time, or Amy could never eat them because she's allergic to nuts.

"Yeah," he replied, sounding happy. "She invited you as well."

"Really?" She couldn't help but feel flattered. "She doesn't even know me."

"But she knows that you and I together, although I told her that you'd probably want to spend Christmas at your father's again this year."

The Doctor poured her a cup of hot tea with just the right amount of milk and handed it to her. Clara accepted it silently with a slight frown; her brain was struggling to make sense of all of this news so soon after waking up.

"So are you going to go?" she asked.

He leaned against the refrigerator and crossed his arms. "I don't know. It's been so long… Amy always tried to keep in touch, but I just…" He shook his head. He didn't need to drudge up his past with Amy; she knew it well enough. "Would you want to go, if I did?" he asked, his voice lifting with hope.

Clara hugged the mug of tea to her chest and smiled up at him as she weighed the options in her head. "Yes."

A broad grin spread across his face. "Really? You wouldn't miss your family?"

"Doctor, you spent Christmas with my family last year. I think you know that's enough family for six Christmases."

She yelped with surprise as the Doctor took the mug from her hands and pulled her into a firm hug. She giggled against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment they just stayed like that.

"Christmas in New York, eh?" she said. "You know, I've never been to America before."

The Doctor pulled back and beamed at her. "Oh, you're gonna love it."

He talked a lot about their trip to New York over the next few weeks, but never said a word about Amy and Rory. Clara didn't know if she was reading into things, or if he was a lot more anxious about seeing them again than he let on and didn't feel like talking about it. She was fairly certain it was the latter, but he never took well to her pushing him. So she played along.

"We can go ice skating in Central Park! Ooh, and at Rockefeller Center too. Do you like ice skating, Clara?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she replied distractedly as she reread the same line in one of her students' exam papers for what felt like the fifth time. "Can't remember if I'm any good at it or not. It's been a while."

"I'm sure you're marvellous. Ooh, and since we're staying for New Year's, maybe we can talk Amy and Rory into going to Times Square to watch the ball drop."

She grinned, her ears perking at the mention of their names. "That sounds fun. Are they looking forward to playing tour guides while we're there?"

"I'd better hope so. Although if they're not, I'll be all the tour guide you need," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows before bending down to nuzzle her cheek.

She giggled and pulled away. "I need to finish grading these!"

"What, right now?" he pouted, kissing her neck.

She nodded. "I'm supposed to hand them back in tomorrow."

He hummed against her neck before leaning over her shoulder to look at the stack of papers on the kitchen table. "Right, well—that one's got horrible penmanship, so marks off for that. This one's misspelled Parliament—I mean, really. Ooh, look at this one… High marks for the little hearts over her i's."

Clara chuckled. "I can't grade them solely on spelling and penmanship."

"But you would finish much more quickly if you did."

He grinned at her when she turned and met his eyes. "I could always put it off for another half hour or so…"

"Ooh, 'or so,'" her replied brightly. "That's promising."

Clara stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, and almost immediately the Doctor swept her into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom.

She awoke sometime around two in the morning with the realisation that she'd forgotten to finish grading her exams. When the Doctor got up at six to go for his morning run, he found her passed out at the kitchen table with all but two papers graded. She was cranky all morning at work, so when he called her around lunch time, she gave him an earful.

"Come on, you're not really mad," he said with that oozing confidence of his. "I'm sure I more than made up for it."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?"

"Oi!"

She chuckled into the receiver. "Maybe you can make up for it with dinner tonight. I gotta go."

"Love you," he said.

Clara grinned. "Love you, too."

"Now boarding first class passengers on flight 1506 to New York John F. Kennedy Airport."

"That's us," the Doctor said, practically shooting out of his seat before grabbing his and Clara's bags.

She pulled their tickets from her handbag and handed his to him just as they arrived at the scanner.

"Thank you, Mr Saxon. Have a nice flight."

She smiled and accepted her boarding pass when it was handed back to her. She liked hearing the Doctor's name acknowledged, even by complete strangers. She was surprised he'd told the airline his real name, but he said he drew the line at lying to the government. "Name on the ticket has to match the name on the passport," he reminded her as they took their seats.

"Can I get you both something to drink?" the flight attended asked as they buckled their seatbelts.

"Oh!" Clara replied, grinning. She'd never flown first class before. "I'll have a glass of red wine, please."

"And you, sir?"

"Same," he replied, not looking away from the window.

Her eyes widened. "You don't like wine."

"Who said?" he replied irritably, turning to look at her. "Oh… right. Scotch on the rocks, please. Thanks."

The flight attendant disappeared around the corner to fetch their drinks. Clara turned to the Doctor. "You OK?"

"I don't like flying."

"I thought you loved flying. You used to tell me you wanted to be an airline pilot when you were younger."

"Yeah, well, that was before I experienced turbulence. Thank you," he said with a tight grin to the flight attendant who handed them both their drinks.

The Doctor took a large swig of scotch and made a face; Clara was barely able to bite back her amusement.

"God, what did she put in this thing?" he asked, his eyes almost watering.

"Scotch."

"Ah, right. That'll wake you up."

"You talk to Amy last night?" she asked after a brief pause.

"Yeah."

"Everything alright?"

He shrugged lightly and rubbed his thumb across the condensation forming on his glass. "Seems to be."

She placed her hand on his arm and smiled when he looked at her. "That's good, isn't it?"

His eyes locked with hers and for an absurd moment, Clara feared he might burst into tears. And then he smiled. "Yeah, I reckon it is."

Going through customs was a nightmare, but once they'd fetched their bags from the carousel, they managed to score a spot near the front of the line for taxis.

"Bond and Warren in Brooklyn, please," the Doctor told the cabbie as they buckled their seatbelts.

Clara hadn't slept a wink on the flight, both from excitement and nerves, and even though it was only half past midnight back in London, she could barely keep her eyes open during the ride to Amy and Rory's. Her head lolled against the car window and moments later she felt the Doctor's fingers lace through hers.

"You gonna make it?"

She smiled but didn't open her eyes. "You might have to carry me inside and introduce me as your comatose girlfriend."

"Better not. They might think you're dating me against your will."

Clara squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Well, we can't have that." She sat up and met his eyes. "You nervous?"

"No. Yes? Terribly, I think." His leg was bouncing up and down as they turned another corner. "Ah, I think this is it."

The Doctor paid the cab driver and Clara stepped out onto the pavement, her eyes rising to the long row of attached buildings running alongside the narrow road. The cabbie had just driven off when the door to the nearest building opened and a tall woman with bright red hair emerged at the top of the steps.

"Doctor?"

"Amy."

She had never seen such long legs in her life. That was all she could think of as the woman bounced down the steps with the grace of a gazelle before launching herself at the Doctor in a hug that could crush ribs. She smiled as the two laughed wetly into each other's shoulders. After hearing so much about the rift between them, she was glad to see them have a happy reunion.

"They're always like that," a man muttered into her ear, and Clara nearly jumped into the road in alarm.

His eyes were apologetic. "Sorry," he said. "Rory," he added, pointing to his chest. "You must be Clara."

"Yes, hi," she said with a smile, holding out her hand only to have her attention drawn to the couple behind her.

"Still wearing the bow tie, I see?"

"Yeah. Bow ties are cool," the Doctor replied, fiddling with his tie.

"Clara, I'm sorry!" Amy called as she sniffed tearfully. "It's so nice to meet you. The Doctor's said very nice things."

"He better have," Clara said with a grin as Amy shook her hand. The two girls laughed and gave each other a friendly hug before Rory suggested they all go inside.

She watched the Doctor and Rory's eyes meet and for a moment, Clara feared one of them was going to punch the other, but then they grinned and hugged each other almost as tightly as he and Amy had.

"Good to see you, man," Rory said as they pulled apart.

The Doctor beamed at everyone. "Well, alright. Look at you both, living in New York."

Rory and Amy insisted on carrying their bags upstairs, although they had to put up a fight with the Doctor, who resisted as he usually did when someone went out of their way to help him.

Amy and Rory lived in a small two bedroom flat with exposed brick walls in the living room and hardwood floors. Clara wondered if all of the Doctors friends were rolling in money, and what it was she was doing wrong.

"So Amy, what is it you and Rory do?" Clara asked.

"Oh, Doctor!" Amy chided. "Haven't you told her anything about us?"

"I've told her plenty!" the Doctor replied defensively. "Jobs are just so boring."

"Rory's a nurse at Beth Israel in the city," Amy said as she took their coats and hung them up by the door.

"That's a hospital," Rory clarified.

"And I'm a writer for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle."

"That's a newspaper," Rory added.

"Yes, thank you, Rory. No one could have figured that out on their own," Amy quipped.

Everyone stood in the foyer in silence until Rory asked, "Anyone want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?"

"Some tea would be lovely," Clara replied.

"I'll make it," Amy chimed in when Rory moved towards the kitchen. "Why don't you and the Doctor put the bags in the guest room and give us girls some time to chat."

Amy smiled at Clara, who felt the Doctor's questioning eyes on her. "You heard the woman," Clara said, waving the boys off.

As the Doctor and Rory scuttled around the corner, Clara followed Amy into the kitchen where she watched the taller woman pull out a very familiar box of tea.

"Ah, that's the Doctor's favourite."

Amy chuckled and removed the plastic wrapper. "Yeah, Rory and I made sure to stock up before he arrived. Found about six boxes of jammy dodgers in a shop on the East Side, too, so he won't be without his nibbles."

Amy plugged in the kettle and pressed the button, then leaned against the counter to face Clara.

"This your first time in America?"

"Yeah. Always wanted to come. Never really had the opportunity."

"Well, we're glad you're here. Something tells me if it weren't for you, the Doctor wouldn't have come to see us at all."

Clara's gaze softened. "I don't think that's true…"

Amy laughed uncomfortably and crossed her arms over her chest, like she was hugging herself. "Maybe not, but he's ignored nearly all of my calls and letters until now."

"He's missed you the entire time, though," Clara said. "He's even said it to me outright, but he never needed to."

Amy sniffed and laughed tearfully. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "Things got so weird after River… And then we came here… I never thought we'd see him again, to be perfectly honest."

Clara smiled reassuringly. "He does have that effect."

Amy laughed.

"How did you all meet, anyway?" Clara asked.

Amy laughed again, this time with genuine amusement. "Oh, he should be here for this story. Doctor! Rory!"

"Whaaat?" they both called back irritably.

The girls' eyes met. "Do you think we interrupted something?" Clara asked.

The kettle light went off just as Rory and the Doctor returned to the main room, and Amy busied herself preparing the tea and nodded to Rory, "Second cupboard."

"Oh, right," Rory said, opening the cupboard in question and pulling out a pack of jammie dodgers.

The Doctor grinned like a school boy. "Clara, look!" he said.

She grinned—they all did—and then they all sat around the kitchen table sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits while Amy and the Doctor recounted the night they first met.