A/N: Christmas is coming! And I'm totaly cozy this year, so I thought it would be quite nice to push a Christmas-Fanfiction online. This one is my *first* english written Fanfiction, so please consider this when you read any further and don't blame me for one or two mistakes I'm sure I'm going to make. I'm trying hard, for I love to *read* english Fanfictions since I don't know when.

So, what is this all about?
Any ideas why the Doctor is suddenly not just grumpy, but a real Grinch when it comes down to Christmas'Spirit?
Let's find out, shall we?

UNIVERSE NINE & ROSE
AGE K+, MAYBE T LATER

Thanks for reading!

****[T]****

"For it is good to be children sometimes,
and never better than at Christmas,
when its mighty Founder was a child Himself."

[CHARLES DICKENS]

Sometimes you wake up with a strong feeling of anticipation. You sense how your heart-rate increases the moment you open your eyes and you know in this very second that the day would be simply wonderful. With lots to do on your mind, you consider even to start it right in pyjamas, because there's nothing in the entire universe more important than to begin with your work. It's quite a fantastic feeling, truth be told – and for Rose Tyler it's nothing more or less than bringing the Christmas-Spirit right into the TARDIS.

It wasn't easy to keep track of the "where" and "when" between adventures in Time and Space, but with a calender from earth on the bed-stand and a good placed countdown after leaving Powell Estate, Rose could claim the date on Christmas Holiday near enough – though it wouldn't have been a problem if not, for the Doctor was no one, somebody had to asked twice for having a good time.
Just four weeks ago, Rose remembered amused, she had the idea to celebrate St. Patricks Day in the Control-Room of their space ship – it didn't even matter that St. Patricks traditionally was feted on 17th of March: it was just for the fun of it and so the Doctor took her to Dublin in 1974 where they stood for two whole days leaving their problems behind for at least what seemed a few fantastic hours. She loved those moments; these moments, when the Doctor lets go of his retracted self; because sometimes it was necessary to take over the TimeLords' wheel, metaphorical spoken, to show him the wonderful aspects of his alien sinews.
Rose naturally hoped Christmas would do the trick.

She did even had a plan – since month in fact. I wouldn't be easy to decorate the TARDIS with her own stubborn will which matched the one of her Captain quite perfectly, but with enough friendliness and patience Rose persuaded the Time-Machine to allow her a little Christmas Tree she was going to remove on her own later when the Holidays were over. The TARDIS remained sceptical though, but Rose didn't mind.
The human girl was also engaged in organizing spices and anything else she would need for baking, always on guard not to fall for the Doctors curiosity. As a matter of fact she told him from time to time they were out of milk again and therefore needed to stop by on earth – the only planet in the universe where cows are at home. It was also indeed a benefit for Roses' little crimes that the TimeLord didn't ask much questions. Sometimes he seemed to ignore her comepletly, distracted by his own thoughts of things which never happened, will possibly happen or could have been happened. And every now and then between their conversations he looked at her as if he saw her for the very first time.

So Rose wandered with slippers in her dressing gown and messy hair through one of the countless corridors of the ship, flanked by some small round windows which granted a sight into the darkness of space. You got used to that; in fact you got used to anything when you were travelling with the TimeLord – even the obscurity. Rose couldn't imagine anything else anymore, it wasn't perfect. But it was perfect enough for her and it was fine.

****[T]****

The TARDIS' kitchen was a broad galley with a small niche to sit and eat. There was anything they needed, but Rose suspected the TimeMachine could do better than that, luxurious even. She simply thought it unnecessary, or the Doctor himself did – the blonde had frankly no idea how the room-stuff on this Ship worked for that matter.
With a happy grin she started to rummage about her things in the cupboards, grabed her mothers kitchen supplies, which Mom already missed for sure (Rose didn't ponder to ask) and began to heat the water-boil for some tea. Between teabags and flour the human girl assumed some screwdriver-ing would have quicken the baking-process, but didn't she love the domestic way and the possibilty to maintain that anything she did was baked through her own hands?

On the Radio (a thing the TimeLord set up some time ago so you can hear any music you wish in any room you hang around) played old Christmas-Music, to which Rose started automatically a bit bobbing and singing while she began to tame the dough for the cookies with more or less effort. Singing has been one of her favourite hobbies quite a while ago; a bit of a talent she never ever brought to the surface, thanks to that bloke Jimmy Stone – her lousy ex-boyfriend who wanted nothing but her money so he could run off with another stupid girl. Rose never really got over it, and therefore music was no longer an option.
But this was Christmas, wasn't it? On Christmas everything was fine – Christmas was the answer of so many conflicts between people: the love feast, the only day no one would think about starting a war. Rose loved the aspect of family and contemplativeness, so one could only wish to find something alike throughout the other 364 days of the year.

Roses' tounge stucked between her teeth, the mixing bowl under one arm now and the whisk in her hand. She fought so hard with the pestry, she didn't notice the Doctor clearing his throat in her back, while he leaned with his arms folded in the doorframe, attentive and curious about what his companion might be doing on such an hour with nothing more but a bathrobe tentatively wrapped around the waist. But Rose only sighed and maneuvered the bowl back on the kitchen-tray, as she run a mealy hand crossways over her forehead. The blonde picked behind her to the small table, wanted to catch her tea-cup for a little sip, distracted from her own thoughts that she didn't notice the Doctor was holding the cup already directly at hear.
On the first account she thanked him, on the second, she let out a small, but surprised scream the Alien returned with no less than a maniac grin. Before the cup could fall to the floor, though, the Doctor put his hands around Roses' own so nothing but a bit of water swipped over the cups' edge and oozed the sleeve of her robe. The girl stopped breathing for a moment, staring in the sky blue eyes of his and letting out a weak laughter that died between their proximity, before she took an awkward half step back, feeling caught in the act.
"How long have you been here?"

"'Heard you sing", the Doctor confessed slowly with the inquisitiveness of a scientist who found out something new about an old experiment. Rose just shrugged uncomfortably and dived wordlessly behind her tea cup. After a while the TimeLord surveyd his companion's doing in the kitchen and on it's plate, the scattered flour, the opened cloves, eggs and milk, a frown on his face, Rose didn't immediately recognize. "What're ya' doin'?"
First surprised, the human girl instantly began to grin a very wolfish grin of hers; her cup wandered back onto the kitchen-plate to be replaced by the mixing bowl she cradled proudly to the sound of the music in both her arms. "'Am baking. For Christmas. Just four more weeks, Doctor – how can we celebrate without any cookies and things?" The TimeLord's frown darkened for a brief instant, but Rose happily bubbled on: "Mum always says the cookies make the feast. Did help her every time when I was I toddler, me, loved that. Bakery store all at home, ya know? Should've been a surprise for you though." Rose scratched her head. "But the smell of the stove had gave me away, anyway." She breathed. "Thought we could make it cozy, what'ya think? Decorate the TARDIS with a cute little Christmas Tree – she allowed me by the way – havin' a good time, going to Boston on the Christmas Market – something like that." It would be perfect, and quite romantic too, she noticed incidental. Or as romantic as it could get with her alien friend who wasn't the best date one could have, truth be told. "It's going to be fantastic."
The girl was about to continue her work, ignoring the fact the Doctor didn't replay anything to her plans at all, as she saw his stoic face: "Anything wrong?" He blinked two times, blue eyes on the kitchen-plate, directed to the chaos Rose had left there. She missinterpreted his silence: "Oh! Sorry, I will clean that up of course. I'm such a tragedy when it comes to cook and bake, but ya' know this already, do'ya?"
"There will be no Christmas."

****[T]****

Time stopped. Irritated from the Doctors statement, his companion twinkled, not sure if she just imagined his words: "What? I mean … why?" As a matter of fact the TimeLord was suddenly irated, his mouth twitched angry and his fingers clinched here and there into tight fists. Roses stomach began to ache as he finally spoke again: "There will be no Christmas", he repeated dully. "Not here, not in the TARDIS. So spare your time, for it's not even worth a try." With that the Doctor turned on his heels to stumble towards the kitchen-door, leaving her dumbfounded behind like an abandoned child. Wasn't St. Patricks funny enough? Didn't he talk about Barcelona whenever it accured to him, willing to take her there? To watch the dogs with no noses? Was he beyond Christmas, though? Was it too boring for his kind? Rose frowned, angry herself now because of the Doctors unexpected, mean behaviour she clearly hasn't seen coming.
But he would not come away with that, without even explaining it to her. And so the blonde girl grabbed the wet and mealy dishcloth and tossed it after him, slapping it right into his neck as he was about to go. He stopped in his tracks, rubbed annoyed the spot where Rose stroked him and glanced back at her, while she catched up with the alien to built herself up between him and the doorframe: "But … but you told me you have been Santa Clause once, was this jus' a big joke then, because that's not even close to funny. You love the earth, I know ya' do. And the humans with their stupid celebrations – you don't even need a second invitation to a party! Blame me, you wanted to travel to Scotland for nothing more but to watch those scottish men throwing tree trunks! And now you wanna cancel Christmas Holidays? The feast of love and friendship, and family? The most important holiday in the world?"
The Doctor stared. There was something in his eyes what scared her, something cold and unapproachable, something she didn't recoginze nor like; this time his reply followed suit: "Why should I fancy the celebrations of stupid apes? Didn't ya notice how hypocritical your lot is on Christmas? It's disgusting." The TimeLord shook his head. "And even so … I don't have a family to celebrate with, Rose. I'm all alone, me. The last TimeLord, ya already forgot this? Don't you understand?"
He pressed his lips together in a sad way and nodded stoic back at the galley: "Clean up and get ya' some clothes … we will arrive on Satellite Gamma B12 soon and I bet ya' don't wanna wander around in the 67th century in a bathrobe."

And Rose let him go, looked after him until his figure disappeard in one of the TARDIS' corridors. The blond didn't know what to think, let alone what to do. She was all about Christmas-Time, wanted nothing more or less but a cozy feast with the TimeLord; spending some good time together, like friends always do. So his rejection made her nearly want to cry – he was one of the simple sort, now was he? But it didn't accure to her in the least how awful Christmas may be for him, the lone warrior, the last of his kind. She has been quite insensitive, she assumed, but not on purpose! Rose didn't want to hurt him at all, on the contrary. "But you have me", the earthling whispered, lost in the dark with the working enginges of the TARDIS as her own attendant.

**** |[T]| ****

TO BE CONTINUED
Oi. Quite a work! Now it's easy – there will be four chapters before Christmas.
Let's hope Rose can persuade the Doctor to accept Christmas-Holidays after all.