Author's Note: Well I started writing a highly dramatic story of the Doctor discovering who Clara really is and their race to save each other. Then I decided it needed a small prologue. Which expanded and became this which was frankly far too long and not focused enough to be a prologue. So now it's a two shot (because also too long to be a one shot). A little fluffy interlude before I write more action and drama. Enjoy!

St Petersburg - 1892

The Doctor all but skipped down the stone stairs and Clara winced in anticipation of a disaster as she followed him more cautiously. Hopping out onto the surface at the bottom with no apparent regard for his limbs, he turned back to her so quickly that he seemed destined to fall. To her massive surprise though he was oddly…balanced? His frock coat swirled around him as he moved, his arms stable and not at all flailing. Weird. Ironic even. Maybe it was a Time Lord thing. What caught her attention most though were his eyes, filled with an eagerness that only seemed to be there when he had something brilliant to show her. It was something she always found completely infectious and it made her heart swell and her breath catch slightly to see it now. Somehow she doubted that he had any idea of the affect that he could have on people. He probably just thought it was the wondrous sights and the amazing adventures he led them to.

"Come on Clara!" he insisted, waiting for her with bouncing impatience.

She paused at the edge. "Is it safe?" She was grinning as though that was just a joke. It mostly was.

"Of course!" he assured brightly, flinging out his arms. How was he not already flat on his face?

She arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Probably!" he conceded with as much enthusiasm as his previous, rather more assured, reassurance. They were basically the same thing right? Good enough for the Doctor anyway.

He glided back over to meet her at the edge, fed up of waiting already. Standing like this she was almost the same height as him and she couldn't help but grin in delight as his face stopped in front of hers.

"Clara," he said with a teasing smile that was all warmth. "I've seen you defeat a parasitic god, stand up to an ice warrior, trade blows with a cybermen, and challenge a ghost. I don't believe you're scared of this."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her face didn't hide the fact that she was a little charmed by his playful manner. This whole situation was charming. "I've seen you dance. I'm not entirely sure that attaching ice skates to your feet is a good idea."

He didn't take offence at that, just raised an 'oh you think so?' eyebrow and held out his hands for hers. "Come and find out."

Always offering her his hands, always promising to show her something incredible. She wasn't sure his ice skating could live up to the thousand moons of the Cluster System, the Carnali nebula, the depths of the Elisan Forests or the Rings of Akhaten, but she was willing to find out.

Clara had only been skating once before, when she was very small. She'd been seven and her mum had taken her during the school holidays because it was nearly Christmas, dad was at work and Clara had begged. She'd fallen over at least a dozen times - trying to go too fast too soon - but she'd always picked herself up and carried on. As long as she could see her mum, it was okay; didn't matter if she fell she just wanted to get it right. And she had, mostly. Now though, so many years later, the sensation of the smooth ice was unfamiliar as she stepped down onto the canal to join him and she had to learn all over again. She was grateful for the Doctor's perfect grip, supporting but not too tight, leading her carefully away from the edge. He was as attentive as ever, watching her closely, skating backwards as he helped her move forwards. Show off. She was glad to see she wasn't the only novice on the frozen canal, noticing others who were laughing and spilling over as they learnt. The Doctor wouldn't let her fall though, she knew it.

"Remember how yet?" he asked with a grin as he released her hands, letting her have a go on her own but staying close just in case.

"Sort of…" She beamed a smile even as she shuffled forward uncertainly. "I take it they do check the ice is thick enough before they let people do this."

"Well health and safety wasn't actually invented until the late twentieth century." His expression became a scowl and he pulled a face like he'd just had something revolting waved in front of his nose. "Not that it was technically invented. More oozed up like a plague upon humanity. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for not being lax and having your employees lose limbs on a regular basis, but when it got to the stage that you couldn't even have a good barbecue without submitting three permits and a waiver six months in advance, it went too far." His expression turned more wistful. "Ah, the anti-safety marches of 2113. They were glorious. Everyone falling over and no one suing anyone. It made the lawyers cry."

"Sounds great," Clara laughed. "You should take me."

"Yes!" he said, suddenly excited and enthused by the idea, looking as though he was already calculating the quickest way back. It faded very quickly. "Actually, no. There were a lot of people falling over. It wasn't very safe. Lets not go there."

Clara just laughed again and shook her head at him. Ridiculous, adorable man.

She watched as a boy with a broom whizzed around them, clearing the freshly falling snow from the slick surface. Even that felt oddly magical somehow. The whole evening was magical. The Doctor had taken her to the theatre first. To the world premiere of an opera no less - a fact he'd repeated a good dozen times mostly she suspected because he was so impressed that he'd actually managed to get to the right place and time. It'd been called 'Iolanta'. Clara had never heard of it, but it'd been about a blind princess who didn't know she was either - blind or a princess. She was supposed to marry one man, had fallen in love another, was told she was blind, eventually regained her sight through some strange treatment that only worked if she understood the meaning of it and alongside that gained a deep understanding about how the mind and body were both separate and intertwined. Or something like that. It'd been a bit difficult to follow in places. Clara had still cried though - she loved a good story - and the Doctor had passed her a handkerchief and patted her hand. He refused to admit that he got a little sniffly too.

And now they were ice skating on a frozen canal in the shadow one of the most beautiful churches Clara had ever seen, it was snowing and she was wearing a crimson gown that'd taken her own breath away when she'd seen it. Yes, it was all pretty magical. Any other man and she might have suspected he had an ulterior motive. She half wished he did.

The Doctor, still apparently wanting to reassure her about the ice, whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, bent over and pressed it to the ground. "See!" he said waving it in front of her as he stood again. "Six inches of solid ice below us. More than enough."

She didn't see anything herself but she trusted his judgement.

"Although," he added, "you can swim, can't you?"

He only managed to hold his serious expression for a moment before grinning. Clara - who may have been taken in, just for a second - scowled and reached out to whack his arm in admonishment. That was a mistake, proving too much for her fledgling balance and she flailed unsteadily. Thankfully the Doctor was swift in response, beside her instantly, clutching her close to keep her on her feet.

"Careful!" he insisted, letting her steady herself, making quite sure she was okay before he let her go again. "Right then, Clara Oswald." He skated around her once more. Definitely showing off now. "I'm going to show you my moves."

She waggled an eyebrow at him suggestively. She could always fall back on the old faithful of teasing him. "Oh you have moves do you?"

At last he nearly turned himself into an undignified tumble, one leg flailing out so wildly that she didn't know how he kept upright as he span back to look at her. "Ice skating moves!" he insisted with a splutter. "Moves! On the ice!"

Clara laughed. So predictable. "Hmm…Pity." Then she held out her arm. "Come on then. Instead of showing off, why don't you help me to not fall over?"

Recovered - his emotions really could flit so quickly - he returned to her side and slid his arm through hers.

"My pleasure," he said gently. "And I wasn't showing off."

"Yes, you were."

This was…nice Clara decided as they skated down the length of the canal section, arm in arm, smiling and laughing together. She very much tried not to think 'date like'. Because it really, really wasn't a date, she knew that. Even if he was pressing awfully close and he was smiling at her like she was the most wonderful thing he'd seen in years. He probably didn't even realise he was doing it. He was probably entirely oblivious to the warmth he made her feel or that he was giving her the worst mixed signals in the history of the universe. No, falling in love with a 1000 year old alien with a mad box and a penchant for running right into anything dangerous would be an extremely stupid idea. So okay, she reasoned with herself, she did adore him, she wouldn't deny that. He was exciting, wasn't he? He showed her all these amazing things, of course she was a bit enamoured. That was entirely to be expected.

It'd also be wrong she inwardly chided herself after a moment. It wasn't fair. Not fair to him. He was more than that and it certainly wasn't just his adventures she adored, it was him. When was the last time someone told him that? Sometimes he scared her, overwhelmed her; he was too big and had seen too much and she felt so small in comparison. And then sometimes he was just a man with a box who'd had his heart damaged. Hearts. Clara had always been very good at caring for people who were in pain. She just hadn't ever cared quite like this. So what did she do now?

She stopped with ease - she really was a fast learner - and moved in front of him, looking up at him.

"Doctor?" she asked softly.

The expression on his face was one of his uncertain ones. Perhaps he had felt something odd about the moment after all.

"Yes?"

"Teach me how to stake backwards."

"No, no, no!" the Doctor insisted, shaking his head. And his hands. That was a definite 'no' then. "You're doing it all wrong! You're making S shapes! It should be Cs!"

Clara looked up at him defiantly. "You are a horrible teacher."

He almost retorted that she was actually just a bad student but, upon quickly calculating the probability of him getting a slap for that, he decided against it. They'd been having such a nice evening, no point in ruining it. Or getting his face hurt.

Maybe he'd have to concede her point anyway he realised as he watched Clara trying to shuffle backwards on her skates again. His Clara was a fast learner normally but she wasn't picking this up at all.

No, he instantly scolded himself. Stop that! She wasn't his Clara at all. That was bad and possessive and bad. Don't go there. Concentrate on skating.

"Watch me again," he said more patiently this time, taking her hands with ease - too much ease? - and starting to skate backwards. He drew her along with him, going slow so she could watch the movement of his feet. "See that? In and out movement like that. Makes a C yes?"

She was so carefully studying his feet that when he stopped to let a couple pass behind them she didn't, bumping right into him, nudging into his chest with a soft 'oof!' He instantly put his arms around her to ensure she didn't fall and…well if that didn't leave her pressed right up against him. Should have told her I was stopping, he reprimanded himself. More importantly he had to right now stop thinking about how very lovely Clara looked with snow in her hair…

He swallowed, licking his lips. Perhaps he should try breathing again at some point too.

"Do you see now?" he asked quietly when he found his voice.

"Perfectly."

Maddening, inscrutable woman. What did she mean by that? It was like she was a purpose designed mystery to infuriate everything about him.

Hang on, was she looking at his lips again? She did sound distracted. Was she going to kiss him? What did he do? What did he want to do? Why was this all so confusing? Maybe he should just kiss her. That'd mix things up a bit. Or was that just the very stupid part of his brain talking? After all, what would happen then? What did you do after you kissed? There were…expectations. He wasn't sure he knew how to deal with expectations.

He was saved from such lofty contemplations by the protests of a small girl.

"Mind out!" she cried as they drifted distractedly into her path.

Clara reacted first, pulling away from the Doctor's arms just in time for the girl to whizz harmlessly between them.

"Sorry!" Clara called out.

The girl circled back to them, looking what could only be described as 'miffed'. "The people who aren't very good are supposed to stay at the edges," she complained.

"Yulia!" The cry came from the edge of the canal where a woman sat observing proceedings. Too richly dressed to be her nanny, too old to be her mother. Aunt or grandmother, maybe. "Remember your manners!"

The woman's words had been firm but kind and the little girl - Yulia - apparently couldn't argue in the face of such reasonableness.

"Yes baba!" she called back with an accepting sigh of annoyance.

"It's all right!" Clara insisted before looking down at Yulia with a wickedly playful grin. She really was good with children. "And I'm not a novice. I'm quite the expert now."

The girl scowled at her disbelievingly. "I've been skating since I was four. You?"

"Me? I've been skating for…" She lifted the Doctor's wrist and checked his watch. "Nearly an hour."

Almost despite herself the little girl laughed.

"Come on," Clara insisted. "Race you once round. See who's better?"

Yulia appeared to think about it for a moment, contemplating the challenge Clara offered and then skated off quickly without saying 'go'.

"Oi!" Clara yelled and hurried after her.

The Doctor laughed fondly, leaving them to it. He skated over to the side, putting in an entirely unnecessary but really rather skilled twirl before he sat on the edge near the older woman. He felt light - lighter still as he watched Clara chase the girl around the ice - and he liked it very much indeed. It was refreshing after so much heaviness in his life recently. He felt…happy.

"She's a lovely girl," the old woman commented with a fondness that seemed unique to the wistful way the old looked at the young. The Doctor understood it well. "You are a very fortunate young man."

"Yes. Yes, I am…" he agreed absent-mindedly before he realised what she was implying. "What? No! It's not like that! I mean, yes, she's lovely but she's just my friend. We travel together."

The old woman smiled warmly and nodded, entirely unconvinced by his protests. "Well that's a pity."

"A pity?"

She shrugged. "When a man looks at a woman like that, I think he should make the most of it."

Suddenly very bored of this conversation, the Doctor got up and skated off. He was back within mere moments. Damn his curiosity.

"Like what?" he demanded crossly.

The woman grinned, taking no offence. "Like when he looks at her, he sees the stars."