CHAPTER ONE

Clara Oswin Oswald, teacher, companion and the Impossible Girl, peered around the tall, spare frame of the Doctor as he stood outside the TARDIS' door, his arms gracefully akimbo as he twirled, the red lining of his coat flashing briefly in the cold, brilliant light of the world laid out before them, born of twin suns high in a windswept blue sky.

"You have got to be joking!" she hissed, her breath misting in the freezing air.

"Favonius … Prime!" The Doctor announced, his hands giving an extra flourish on the second word as though he had magically produced an exceptionally cute rabbit from his sleeve.

Clara blinked, even as she shivered in the near-zero temperature of this other-worldly tundra landscape.

They were standing outside the newly-materialised TARDIS, parked neatly on top of an enormous rocky escarpment which fell away as a steep cliff of obsidian. Hundreds of feet below them, stretching into the distance, was a stark land of mosses and stunted trees, and far away, she could just make out the gleam of chill light on water. Behind the TARDIS rose a great mountain range of sharp, snow-capped pinnacles, huge and unforgiving, glaciers flowing in a river of greenish-blue ice between each fang of rock.

Nothing moved. The landscape was empty of life, apart from one overly enthusiastic (and immensely irritating) Time Lord, and a small, very annoyed female human.

Clara stared at the Doctor. She looked more than a bit miffed. The Doctor stared back, one eyebrow askance, eyes beginning to narrow in irritation. He opened his mouth as though he was about to say something particularly scathing, but thought better of it and waved a hand at the bleak landscape.

"I took you to where you wanted to go … so why the scowly face?"

Clara wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, and stamped her feet, which were rapidly chilling despite her decision to wear warm boots.

"I said … I fancied a bit of fresh air. What I wanted was a nice, gentle walk along Blackpool beach! What happened to my walk along Blackpool beach, Doctor? Hmm? I categorically did not say I wanted to go on some sort of insane polar expedition!"

"Blackpool!" snorted the Doctor, wiggling his shoulders in disgust. "Full of sticks of pink rock and old people with badly-fitting false teeth munching chips … now this - " He waggled long fingers at the vista before them " – this … is what I call a place fit for a breath of fresh air!" He squared his shoulders, head and eyebrows defiant. His hands finished their gesticulating and ended up back in his pockets, his ramrod-straight posture daring Clara to deny the truth of his words.

Clara's own eyebrows raised in wordless disbelief.

The Doctor gave a small but knowing smile, sure he had won the argument.

If looks could kill, Clara's glare would have reduced the Doctor to a mouldering corpse in a nano-second, but the object of her scowl just curled his smile into a definite smirk.

"Favonius Prime, the only ice-world of the Charon system. Thirty-two hour days – ideal for getting in some really good sightseeing – whopping big moon for that all-important moon-rise thingy while glugging a mug of hot chocolate, and then we can eat our sandwiches while doing some interesting phosphorescent-marine-beastie-spotting!" The Doctor's smug smile softened, becoming warm and expectant. "C'mon, Clara … where's your sense of adventure?"

"It headed off to Blackpool expecting a gentle walk along the beach, apparently," Clara muttered, teeth on the point of chattering with the cold. She squinted at the Doctor and then took a deep breath. Oh, what the hell. She sighed dramatically. "All right. A walk it is. A walk to where, exactly?"

The Doctor gave her a fleeting grin of delight and turned back to gaze at the distant watery gleam. He gestured with his chin.

"There. The Inner Sea of Pariel. When the moon rises it's …" his blue-grey eyes were faintly wistful, " … it's … special. Wait until you see. It's not a long walk and we'll be back before you know it. The moonlight here is nearly as bright as day, so we'll be able to walk back easily." Clara wondered why he didn't seem to feel the cold. Someone as lean as the Doctor should feel the cold. And then, to her immense satisfaction, she saw the tiniest of shivers and a miniscule hunch of black-clad shoulders.

The silly beggar's freezing. Just won't show it. Talk about stubborn.

"Coat. Boots. Gloves. Hat." She rubbed her arms vigorously and headed back into the TARDIS, but hesitated at the door and turned back, her face shadowed with concern. "Doctor … is there anything out there that is going to … well … eat us? I don't want there to be any running this time. Any chance of avoiding the running thing?"

The Doctor shook his head, hands still tucked in his pockets, his lean frame stark against the endless horizon of blue sky and distant landscapes.

"Running? Nope. The biggest land carnivore here would be hard-pressed to beat up a rabbit. There are a few scavengers and a bunch of hairy herbivores, but nothing that should give us any trouble. There are a couple of rather big marine predators," he gave a sudden, predatory grin of his own, "but we're not going paddling, now are we?"

"We'd better not, that's all I can say," Clara muttered quietly. "I'm not in the mood for running. Or swimming, for that matter."

"Yes Ma'am," said the Doctor, mobile mouth quirking.

Clara studied her companion for a moment, and then seemed to make a decision.

"Okay then. C'mon, you. Warm clothes. Hot chocolate. Sandwiches. And cake."

The Doctor smiled that rare, genuinely warm smile that softened the angular edges of his face, the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling with humour.

"A picnic. A picnic with cake," he said, laughter hiding behind every syllable. But as he watched Clara disappear into the TARDIS the smile faded and his cool gaze swept once more over the land before him. Turning his face to the distant twin yellow suns above, he closed his eyes and for a brief moment his breath hitched as though in pain. And then his nostrils flared, cold air filling his lungs and soothing his hearts. He opened his eyes and nodded to himself. "Yeah," he murmured. "This is just what we need. A calming breath of fresh air. And no running. Maybe that'll help."

And decision made, he followed Clara into the TARDIS.