Okay, so this is going to be obviously AU in which Rose wasn't sucked into Pete's World and is still travelling with the Doctor. Takes place just after "Doomsday" and just before "Runaway Bride."
Okay, so this may or may not be weird. It started out as a crack fic, then evolved into a serious "meaning of the season" kind of thing, then turned sad for a while, then is happy again, with a little fluff thrown in. So all in all, I'm not sure. But please enjoy.
"Rose, what are you doing?" The Doctor stepped into the console room with a dumbstruck expression on his face. The console lights were flashing red and green, there was tinsel strung everywhere, and Rose was bedecked in bells and a red hat humming an upbeat tune.
"Do you like it?" She stopped hanging tinsel for a moment to smile at him brightly. He took two more tentative steps into the room, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. "Doctor?"
"My TARDIS…" he whined. "What have you done to my TARDIS?" He fingered some of the golden tinsel draped over the pilot's chair as Rose huffed.
"First of all, it was her idea; she just needed me to actually put all of this up."
"Her idea?" he shot back disbelievingly. "Rose, the TARDIS doesn't celebrate Christmas."
"I know," she shrugged, "but I woke up this morning with Christmas carols playing in my room, and all day I've been seeing images of decorations and trees and presents on every screen I pass. Then, I got lost in the corridors on the way to the kitchen, and found myself in an old storage room. Right in front there was this box labeled 'Christmas' and I had to open it –"
"Of course," he quipped fondly, smiling at her as she rambled on.
" – and so I dragged it all out here and started putting it up."
"But why the console room? Why couldn't you brighten up the study, or your own room?"
"Because," she answered, tossing a string of popcorn around his neck, "we spend most of our time in here. Or in the kitchen. Which reminds me…" She pulled from the box a miniature Christmas tree already adorned in lights and tiny ornaments. She dashed off with a bright smile toward the kitchen, her humming growing into a full carol as she danced down the corridor. When she was out of sight the Doctor turned back to the center console with a reproving glare. The popcorn string was still around his neck, and he pulled it off quickly before tossing it aside.
"I can't believe you let her do this to you," he pointed his finger at nowhere in particular. The TARDIS responded as she always did – with thoughts and feelings rather than words. He felt sorrow and loneliness, and he wondered not for the first time if Rose was missing her mother more than she let on.
His anger at the unfairness of it all (because he could never really be angry at Rose) had abated some days after Canary Wharf, and they'd settled back into a routine. She hadn't cried since that fateful day but every now and then he caught glimpses of a frown on her face, and once he'd entered the study to find her staring blankly at the cover of a book. She'd gone on to tell him it was one of her mother's favorites, and even read him a passage or two that Jackie had put her to bed with many sleepless nights. But still she didn't cry, and the Doctor wondered if it was only a matter of time before her emotions overwhelmed her.
"All done!" her too-chipper tone broke through his thoughts and he plastered a broad grin onto his face. He looked at her warmly, taking in her simple attire of jeans and a faded blue sweater as she skipped over to him. Up close, he could see the dark circles underneath her eyes that told him she wasn't sleeping well, but there was something else. Her brown eyes, normally so full of life and excitement, hadn't sparkled with life since Canary Wharf. But now he could see a little of that old light returning, and his smile widened.
"All Christmas-ed up, are we?"
"Yep," she replied happily. "Everything's nice and festive. Bit of Christmas cheer does a girl good, you know?" He watched her for a few more seconds, an idea slowly unraveling in his mind. Finally, he closed the remaining space between them and grabbed her hand.
"You really love Christmas that much?" he asked curiously. Just after his latest regeneration, he'd been threatened by Jackie – under pain of another death – to join them for Christmas dinner. At first he'd hated the idea (probably a left over remnant of his previous self), but as he walked through the door and met Rose's smiling face he realized he was actually looking forward to spending Christmas with her family. He'd watched how her face lit up with joy at each unwrapped present, how child-like and innocent she seemed as the Christmas spirit filled her. Now, as she stood very nearly bouncing in front of him, he could see it returning.
"I love Christmas," she answered. "It's my favorite holiday. All the carols and wrappings and food everywhere, decorations on every street corner, people smiling and friendly like they've forgotten their troubles for a while and are just content to let the spirit of the season fill them up."
"And the presents," he prompted teasingly, and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well yeah, sure," she shrugged. "But the best part is giving the gifts," she continued seriously. "Seeing someone's face when they open your present is just about the best feeling in the world." He laughed with her, happy that her previous melancholy seemed to have abated for the moment. He contemplated his next words and took a deep, steadying breath.
"Rose, come here." He led her over to the pilot's seat and sat her down, reassuring her with a soft smile. "Many years ago, long before I met you, I made a promise to a very special person. Today, I'm going to break that promise…for you." Horror filled her face and she jumped to her feet.
"Doctor, no! You can't do that!" He set his hands on her shoulders and laughed.
"No, it's alright," he assured her. "I know he won't mind one bit. The promise I made was to never tell a human soul about him, but you, Rose…you're special." She frowned at him, not quite understanding his meaning but trusting him all the same. "I want you to close your eyes," he told her quietly. She did as she was told, letting her eyelids fall shut as he pushed her gently back into the seat.
"What am I –"
"Hush," he chided softly. "Just listen. I want you to first think of everything we've done together; all the places we've visited, the people we've met, the things we've seen." She took a breath, and he was pleased to see the twitch of a smile on her lips. "Now I want to remember something, something very special. I want you to try to remember how you felt as a child on Christmas morning, when you walked out of your room and saw all the wonderfully wrapped presents beneath the tree. Remember the giddy feeling that filled you up as you opened each one, the wonder that surrounded you during the holidays." This time her smile broke free, and even with her eyes closed it lit up her features.
"Alright," her eyes slid open and she stared at him. "Why, though?"
"Because I'm about to take you to meet someone very special." He pressed various buttons – some she was sure were just random pushes – and turned dials in a dizzying combination until she felt the familiar pull of the TARDIS in transit.
"Where are we going?" she asked anxiously, but his only answer was a sly grin. The TARDIS landed with a gentle thud, rocking her slightly as she moved to stand. "Where are we?" She strode over to the door, intent on flinging it open and ending his little game.
"Wait," the Doctor laid his hand against the door. "Before you go out there, there's something I need to tell you – something no other human can ever know." She rolled her eyes and shrugged one shoulder in a so-what gesture.
"Doctor, there's loads of things I've seen that nobody else knows about." His face split in a boyish smile and he grabbed her hand.
"This is different, though, Rose." His excitement started to bubble over, and he bounced a little on his feet.
"Just tell me!" she laughed, squeezing his larger hand with her own.
"Okay," he nodded and took a deep breath. "Rose Tyler, we're going to see Santa." She didn't say anything for a few moments, then she burst out laughing. He frowned at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "Rose! I'm not joking. Santa is real."
"Santa? Santa Claus?"
"You know more than one Santa?" he quipped, his tone turning sour at her disbelief. "Fine, you don't believe me? Step outside. But I warn you, you'll probably need a coat." She glared at him for a moment, staring him down before disappearing into the depths of the TARDIS. Five minutes later she returned wearing a light brown coat that fell past her waist, the cuffs and collar lined with wool. She'd grabbed a toboggan and a pair of gloves as well, and he waited patiently by the door as she pulled them on.
"Ready?" he asked her, his fingers already closed around the handle. Rose stepped closer, already anticipating what waited behind the door. When he opened it she gasped, completely overwhelmed by the sight before her.
The quaint little village at the bottom of the hill was covered in snow, though the well-worn traveling paths had been shoveled neatly. Twinkling lights adorned every cottage, and soft music floated across the wintery landscape as people milled about in the distance. Rose stepped outside, only vaguely aware of the Doctor closing the TARDIS door behind them, and took it all in.
"It's like Mum's old Christmas village come to life," she whispered. "What is this place? Are we on Earth?" The Doctor grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her gently to the path leading down the soft slope.
"Nope, but we're pretty close. Still in the Milky Way, actually, just a few systems over."
"So Santa Claus is an alien," she giggled. "Figures. So what's his story? Old benevolent alien that just wants to bring joy to boys and girls, or is there some sub-plot that is so complex and mysterious that only a very old, very wise being would understand it?" The Doctor just shrugged and swung their hands between them.
"I don't know," he told her honestly, his smile slipping at the shocked expression on her face. "Oh come on, I'm not omniscient now."
"Could have fooled me with that ego of yours," she joked, softening the barb with a smile. He looked affronted for a moment before nudging her slightly with his shoulder.
"No really, I have no idea where he came from, or even who he is – if Santa isn't really who he is. It's been so very long since I've been here…" he looked around fondly, and Rose listened as the music surrounded her. She was surprised to realize she recognized the tune.
"Is that Jingle Bells?" She laughed happily as the Doctor nodded.
"Isn't it just great!" Her laughter was infectious, and soon the two of them were singing loudly as they entered the village. People milled around carrying various packages and bags, and Rose found that she wasn't completely shocked to find that they were much shorter than her.
"Elves?" she whispered to the Doctor, and he held a finger to his lips.
"Be careful they don't hear that word," he warned her quietly. "Their species is technically known as Vettiri." Rose mouthed the word, trying it out silently as they continued down the cobblestone street. "The folklore of Santa dates back to the early 1800's, at least that's when the modern day version of Santa began. Legends of Saint Nicholas and Sinterklaas have existed for centuries, and there are elements of the myth that could be traced back to the old Norse god, Odin."
"You said you'd been here before?" Rose prompted, sifting her fingers through a pile of snow on a nearby railing.
"In my…fourth incarnation," he admitted. "I quite literally stumbled onto this planet. I was chasing down an inter-dimensional rift-dweller when the TARDIS hiccupped and dropped me here."
"Hiccupped?" Rose laughed.
"Yes, hiccupped," he retorted. "Anyway, there was this plague raging through the system, and Santa had fallen victim to a rather nasty case of it. I swooped in just in time to deliver all the gifts that year and save Christmas." Rose stared at him with an incredulous expression on her face, remembering a long-forgotten conversation.
"What year was that? On Earth, I mean." The Doctor thought for a moment, calculations flying through his head at light speed. "1998, I think." She let out a huff of laughter then, causing him to look at her funny. "What?"
"Red bicycle when I was twelve?" she reminded him, and he laughed with her.
"Yes, well, I delivered all the presents in one night and learned a little bit about skewed temporal physics in the process." He stopped them in the middle of the street and looked around. "Hasn't changed much, which means the main workshop should be…ah ha!" He pointed toward a towering structure in the center of town. Vettiri bustled around the place quickly, slipping around them with a quickness that surprised Rose. Each of them was toting some sort of bag or box, and not one was without a smile on its face.
"A little happy, aren't they?" Rose whispered, not wanting to offend anyone on her first trip to Santa's workshop."
"They're crafters, Rose. They live to build things, all kinds of things, and so when Santa employed them here they became possible the most satisfied creatures in the universe." He watched them for a moment before tugging her back on track. "Come on, if we're very lucky he'll be in the main factory."
As they approached the large wooden doors, two Vettiri stepped into their path. Both were a bit taller than their average kin, though they still only rose to Rose's chest. She looked down with a friendly expression, smiling as the Doctor waved.
"Oh hello," he greeted brightly. "We've come to see Santa." Rose fought back a snort of laughter, still a bit overwhelmed by the absurdity of his statement.
"He's busy…his time of year, you know. Are you a friend or a traveler?"
"Both," the Doctor answered. "I'm the Doctor." Instantly their demeanor changed, and wide smiles split their faces. Before they could greet him properly, a booming voice rang out from a neighboring building.
"Doctor! It's so wonderful to see you again, you old rascal. You've changed." Rose turned toward the sound of the voice, her mind struggling with the overload her eyes were witnessing.
He was just as every tale had ever described him, she realized. He had a huge bushy beard as white as the snow around them, rosy red cheeks and bright eyes warm with laughter. His round belly shook joyfully as he bounded over to them, and she caught the faint hint of gingerbread in the air as he stopped next to them. He grabbed the Doctor's free hand and pumped it up and down happily.
"Yes, yes, I have," the Doctor agreed. "You haven't though, have you? Still jolly as ever." A shadow passed over Santa's face, and Rose was instantly on alert. Throughout her travels with the Doctor, she'd gotten pretty good at reading people – alien or not – and she knew when there was trouble brewing. The Doctor had seen it too, and it was he who asked the question.
"What's wrong, then? Surely you're not ill again?"
"No, no, nothing of the sort," Santa agreed. "Not since that cocktail you gave me." He seemed to stop then, either unable or unwilling to elaborate on his problem further. Instead, he turned to Rose and smiled warmly. "Rose Marion Tyler, look how you've grown." If she was surprised that this alien knew her name, she didn't show it. Instead, she reached out her hand for a shake.
"It's nice to meet you," she intoned politely, and Santa laughed heartily.
"Darling," he reached out for her, wrapping her in a bear hug. "You can't fool me, you know. I can tell how completely overwhelmed you are." She let out a puff of laughter as she pulled away, letting the Doctor reclaim her hand.
"Yeah, a bit," she admitted. He patted her shoulder in a fatherly gesture then turned to the Doctor.
"I admit, it surprises me that you would bring her here." There was a hint of question in his voice, and the Doctor scratched the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
"Yes, well, you see, I wanted to…it's just that…I know I said…" Santa clapped him on the shoulder with a loud bark of laughter.
"It's quite alright, Doctor. We both know how special this one is, so I suppose I can forgive it this once." The warning in his tone was clear, and Rose knew the Doctor wouldn't dare bring someone else here again. As scary as the Time Lord could be when he was angry, despite the reserves of power lurking just beneath his goofy surface, Rose could sense a profound respect and perhaps just a little fear in her friend. Whatever he was, the being who called himself Santa Claus was not a being to be crossed.
"So you hinted at some trouble," the Doctor dove back into the previous conversation as if they hadn't ever left the topic, and the ancient being sighed heavily. He glanced around at his faithful Vettiri, then grabbed the Doctor's elbow.
"How about I get someone to show Rose around while you and I discuss it." Rose fought the urge to protest, but just barely. The Doctor noticed, however, and shot her a warning look.
"That would be fine. Rose, would you like to see the reindeer?" All thoughts of protest died on her lips as Santa gestured for one of the taller Vettiri from before to come over.
"Rose, this is Minna, one of my supervisors. She'll take you around while the Doctor and I speak." Rose felt the Doctor squeeze her hand in assurance just before he let go.
"It's alright, Rose. I'll catch up in a moment. Go on," he added with a smile. "Enjoy yourself." She hesitated for only a moment before Minna grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the two men. She cast one last glance at them, and the Doctor lifted his arm in a wave as she disappeared down a side street.
The reindeer, she found out, were alien creatures that greatly resembled the caribou of Earth. They were a bit bigger, if Rose remembered her animal science class correctly; the nearest reindeer's shoulder was just above her head. Their fur was sleek black, and the silver antlers on their head drew to points at each end. Their eyes and hooves were also silver, and each had a unique white marking on its body.
"They're called tarandus," Minna supplied. "They're a wild species found on this planet, with the ability to see in the dark and a keen intellect. They can actually understand a spoken language, and can respond to someone." Rose kept a safe distance from the creature before her, though its left eye cut over to stare at her as she stared back.
"Are they dangerous." In response, the creature tossed his head up and down, and Minna laughed.
"No, not the domesticated ones. Go on." She ushered Rose forward, and Rose stumbled up to the tarandu nervously. "It's alright. This is one of our oldest and most gentle tarandu. He's too old to pull the sled, and he's living out his retirement right here." Rose lifted her hand and laid it against the shoulder of the beast, amazed at the silky feel of the fur beneath her fingers.
"He's so soft," she commented, and Minna nodded.
"Our groomers care for them well," she said proudly. "Each tarandu as its own handler and trainer, though the older ones like this are often used as teaching tools for the young ones." Rose grew bolder as she petted the Tarandu, and he shuffled closer to bump his massive body against hers. Minna laughed and patted the beast on his hind leg.
"What's his name?" Rose wondered, thinking about the old tales of Santa's reindeer. Minna seemed to follow her train of thought and nodded.
"Well, the traditional eight reindeer names are passed on to their successors when they retire, but this was the original Dasher. When he was retired, he was given a Name of Honor by the Old One." Something in her tone told Rose that Minna was speaking of Santa, and she wondered not for the first time just what Santa was. "He is called Dazhen, which means 'proud leader.'"
"Proud leader, huh?" Rose slipped her arm underneath the tarandu's neck and stepped closer to his head. Dazhen turned his head slightly to nuzzle against Rose, happy to have her attention as she stroked his chest.
"He likes you," Minna exclaimed. "Usually they don't allow strangers near their heads." Rose stared into the old, silver eyes dulled by age but no less vibrant for their wisdom.
"This is all so amazing," she whispered, and Dazhen stared back as if to say yes, it is.
"There is more," Minna gestured to the pastures behind the stable they were in, and Rose patted Dazhen once more on the nose before following the Vettiri out the door.
She met the other seven original reindeer, all with their unique markings and names. She laughed as she met Verten the Trickster, and Ghomen the Swift. When she'd said hello to each of them in turn, she looked at her companion.
"What about Rudolph?" she asked, wincing at the nonsensical nature of the question. Minna just giggled and waved at her.
"That was just a cute story humans made up; there is no Rudolph." Rose nodded, not surprised at the lack of a red-nosed tarandu. "I have to admit, though, it's clever." Minna gestured once more for Rose to follow, and they walked back to the stables and into the town beyond.
"I still can't…" Rose faltered for a moment. "This is all so…fantastic." Minna smiled, turning to help a younger Vettiri balance a pile of packages.
"We thought so, too, when the idea was first presented to us. But we had faith in the Old One." Rose picked up a bit of snow, letting it sift through her fingers and fall back to the ground.
"Rose!" The Doctor's voice carried over the sound of the carols and the general bustle of the town, and she turned with a grin. He jogged over to her, sparing a fleeting smile for Minna as he grabbed Rose's hand. "Come on, I need to talk to you."
"Okay," she said slowly as he pulled her over to a small building with a large wiry structure on top. "Doctor, where are we?"
"This is Santa's communications hub. It's how he keeps track of everything going on. Well, not everything, but it does keep visual account of the Earth. It's more for the Vettiri, you see, to keep track of Santa as he's delivering, but it also has this." He pointed to a small globe sitting off to the side, surrounded by so many buttons and dials that it reminded Rose of the TARDIS. The globe glowed dimly, and Rose felt sad as she stared at it, though she had no clue why.
"What is this?" He lifted the globe into his hands sadly, shifting it from one palm to the other.
"Christmas is in trouble, Rose. People all over the world are losing the spirit. I mean look at this!" He set the globe down and punched a few buttons on a nearby console. Instantly, it pulled up an image of a bustling cityscape on the screen. "How many houses can you make out with Christmas lights on them?" Rose peered at the picture, but shook her head. The nighttime lights were twinkling away, but the festive markings of Christmas were few and far between. "And that's just one city! The Christmas spirit is dwindling, and if enough people stop believing in the magic of the season, the Santa can't deliver his presents. Do you know what happens then, Rose?" The absolute horror in his tone made her want to giggle, but she suppressed the urge valiantly.
"What happens then, Doctor?"
"It's the end of Christmas! No more Santa! No more presents and chestnuts on fires! No more sleigh bells and red-nosed reindeer!" He waved his arms about dramatically, and this time Rose couldn't stifle her giggle fast enough. "I'm being serious here, Rose!"
"I'm sorry," she said through spurts of laughter. She contained it enough that the Vettiri around them couldn't hear, but the Doctor was still being a bit histrionic. "The theatrics might be a bit much, yeah? How do we fix it?"
"Santa says in order for spirit to be restored, we need three miracles. Three! How in the world are we going to pull off three miracles in one night?" She laid a hand on his shoulder in an effort to stave off full on hyperventilating Time Lord.
"Hey, we've faced down werewolves and demons and cat-nuns. We should be able to perform three miracles. So what's first, then? How about we do a secret Santa thing for poor kids?" The Doctor shook his head sadly.
"Unfortunately, it has to be a bit bigger than that. We need three genuine Christmas miracles by midnight tonight, or Christmas as we know it is over." Rose sat on a bench with a defeated frown, and scooted over when the Doctor sank down next to her. Wordlessly, she leaned her head against his shoulder in support, offering a little comfort in what was so obviously a hopeless time.
She remembered Christmases past with her mum and Mickey, eating a modest feast and opening a few presents. They'd never been very well-off before, so Rose had only ever had one or two presents a year. But they were always perfect and Rose couldn't have asked for happier memories of holidays spent with the ones she loved the most. But this Christmas was different, and Rose would never again awaken Christmas morning to the sound of her mother preparing breakfast while singing carols off-key, or laugh with Mickey during the annual parade.
But there were plenty of people out there who still needed Christmas, who still looked forward to the family gatherings, and the gifts, and the general sense of goodwill that permeated the air. And though her own holidays would never again be the same, she couldn't sit by and let it happen to the entire world. With a determined look on her face, she sat up and pulled the Doctor with her.
"Rose, what –?"
"Come on," she told him, dragging him by the hand out the door and out of the village.
"Where are we going?" he wondered, a little put off at being the one pulled around for a change.
"Don't worry, we're not leaving. Well, we are leaving, but we're coming back. We just have to save Christmas." The Doctor halted in his tracks, using one hard tug to stop Rose as well.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She was grinning as she turned to face him, and he couldn't help but smile back. "We have to save Christmas? Now who's being theatric?"
"That's right! We'll have to figure something out, but we have to move now. Come on!" She pulled once more, setting into a jog toward the TARDIS. The Doctor kept pace with her easily, glad to see her spirits once again lifting. Once they were back inside TARDIS, the Doctor began his dance around the console as she sat in the pilot's chair.
"So any ideas, Commandant?" The Doctor quipped as the TARDIS zoomed through the vortex. Rose frowned, obviously deep in thought.
"Not yet," she admitted. "But I'm sure something will happen. No chance you could zip back in time and give us a few extra days?" She had an inkling it wasn't possible, but she had to ask. Her suspicions were confirmed when he shook his head sadly.
"No, Santa's workshop is considered part of this timeline. We're committed to his schedule now, so we have until midnight. If Christmas Eve rolls around and the spirit isn't high enough…well, bad things happen."
"So it's December twenty-third, then?" she thought out loud as the TARDIS landed. "Where did you land us?"
"London," the Doctor shrugged. "I figured if we have to perform miracles, we might as well be in a city we're familiar with." She smiled at him teasingly, poking her tongue between her teeth as she agreed.
"Alright," Rose clapped her still-gloved hands together and readjusted the toboggan on her head. "Let's get to it, then."
They stepped out into the cold London afternoon hand in hand, and just for a moment Rose felt a sense of homecoming wash over her. But she remembered her mum wasn't waiting with a hot cup of tea and a hug, and the cold began to creep in. The Doctor didn't seem to notice her mood shift, but his head was swiveling comically as he peered around.
"Let's see…miracles. Miracles! Rose, how are we going to do this?" She reached over with her free hand and patted his shoulder.
"Calm down, Doctor. Let's just…wander a bit. Maybe something will happen." He let her lead the way through the busy streets, noting occasionally how her eyes lit up at familiar sights and sounds. London at Christmas was a magical place, and the Doctor was glad he'd brought her here. Children were laughing as they threw snowballs around their parents, teens chatted with their friends and gushed about the latest gossip over hot coffee, and adults rushed in and out of stores to gather presents for their loved ones. Rose's pace slowed as she looked in huge store front windows, and the Doctor indulged her.
"Oh my God," a bystander whispered, and the Doctor's head whipped around so fast his neck popped. Ignoring the small jolt of pain, he tugged on Rose's hand insistently as he watched a moving van careening out of control on the icy road. The driver was frantically trying to regain traction, but no matter which way he turned the wheel the van still swerved and skidded across the road. A small group of children continued to play in the snow, completely oblivious to the horrible disaster careening toward them.
His Time Lord mind was already calculated trajectories, speed, friction, and a myriad of other numbers. In one swift motion he let go of Rose's hand and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. With lightning quick fingers, he readjusted the setting and depressed the button.
The fire hydrant on the corner suddenly popped its cap, sending freezing water all over the children. They shrieked in surprise and dodged out of the way, running to their parents just as the van crashed through the snow bank and onto the sidewalk. Onlookers were completely dumbfounded, looking around at each other as if they couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed. Mothers hugged their children to them, checking them over unnecessarily as they showered them with kisses and tears.
"I can't believe it," one man exclaimed as others helped the dazed driver out of the van. The hydrant had stopped spewing water, and the Doctor was reclaiming Rose's hand with his now-free one. She smiled at him, hugging him sideways as everyone began to realize just what had happened before them.
"Well done, Doctor," she whispered, and he patted his pocket softly. Reaching in, he pulled out a small marble sized object. Rose realized it was a miniature version of the spirit globe she'd seen at the workshop. It's faint white glow was brighter, tinged with just a bit of blue now.
"Well," the Doctor said happily. "That's one." Rose hugged him again, laughing at his brilliance and quick thinking. She looked back once more to be sure the children were alright, but they were already back to playing as the adults spoke excitedly about the miracle they'd just witnessed.
"Come on, Rose, we have to get going." That was his way, she knew; slipping out after saving the day. They walked around for a few more hours, stopping into a small café to warm up before heading back out into the city. Rose was quiet at first, but slowly she began to talk about people and places she and her mother had visited during Christmases past. The Doctor listened, happy that she finally felt well enough to talk about her mother, but sad that she would never again get to spend another holiday with her family. Rose had already told him not to feel guilty – that she had chosen to stay with him and nothing was ever going to change her mind – but he felt responsible all the same. If Rose had never met him, she would be sitting down to dinner with her mother about now. And he would be…lost. He tried to think about where he would be if he hadn't met Rose, but the despair that threatened to overwhelm him was too much. He shut those thoughts out and instead concentrated on his companion.
She'd stopped in her tracks, and when he looked back he saw her eyes focused on something behind him. He turned slowly and frowned, feeling sadness wash over him again. The Powell Estate stretched above them, and he knew Rose was looking up at the window that had been hers for so many years. Cursing his distracted mind, he stepped up to her.
"Rose? Are you alright?" She glanced down at him, then back up to the window.
"Yeah," she said absently. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just weird…" The Doctor could tell from the lights shining out from the window that the apartment had been rented to another tenant, and he idly wondered what had happened to all of the Tylers' old belongings.
"Rose, come on," he tugged her gently, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they continued by. She was quiet then, her previous happy memories replaced by a thick silence that hung between them. It was getting late – almost seven by his guess – and he knew they didn't have a lot of time.
"The shelter," Rose murmured, and he realized he'd said the last bit aloud. He looked at her quizzically, and she lifted her chin up to look at him. "They're always needing things at the shelter." He nodded and let her direct him toward the small building a few blocks over. Despite the growing cold and the usual depression that surrounded such places, there was a sense of cheer and merriment in the faces outside. The doors were closed, though, and the Doctor caught Rose's frown.
"What is it?" he whispered.
"That's odd," she answered just as quietly. "Usually the doors are open by now. Mum and I used to come down here on the nights before Christmas and serve food." He nodded, guiding her around the still-forming line to the side entrance. He knocked once, and when there was no answer he pulled out his sonic screwdriver. With a quick adjustment the door was open, and they slipped in quickly before anyone saw them. Through a small hallway, Rose could just make out the kitchen where people were usually dashing about getting pots and plates ready. But there was no noise, no preparations being made.
"How did you get in here?" a voice startled them, and the Doctor turned with a hesitant smile.
"Yes, well, we're volunteers you see. We're here to help serve the food." He hoped it would be enough; he really hated lying while on a mission from Santa of all people. The man deflated instantly and sagged against the wall.
"Well, there is no food," he answered bitterly.
"What? What happened?" Rose took a step forward, and the Doctor could see the man responding to her sympathetic tone. Rose had always been good with people, he noted, and he was lucky to have her around.
"Stolen," the man replied harshly. "Honestly, who steals food from the needy the day before Christmas Eve?" Rose gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth.
"That's awful. There's no food?"
"None," his tone was defeated and sad, and Rose looked back at the Doctor knowingly. He nodded to her, grasping her hand.
"Everything will be alright," he promised the other man, but he just shrugged.
"Unless you can pull off a miracle in the next ten minutes or so, I'm afraid we'll have to send all these people home...if they have them." He slipped out of the room with a dejected sigh, leaving Rose and the Doctor standing alone.
"Let's go." He pulled her back out into the streets, and they set out at a fast jog back toward the TARDIS.
They made it there in four minutes, and Rose dashed to the kitchens as the Doctor set the coordinates. They materialized just out back of the shelter, well out of view of any errant bystanders. Rose called for him then, and he found her in the kitchen surrounded by dozens of boxes full of food. He could smell the tantalizing aroma of turkey and dressing, as well as other fixings and desserts and wonderful treats. For the next five minutes, they trekked back and forth from the TARDIS to the shelter's door, stacking box after box. Finally, when they were all piled up, Rose pulled a note from her pocket and set it on the top box. She pounded on the door and bolted around the corner into the safety of the TARDIS.
Joe heard the pounding on the side door, groaning as he realized he was going to have to start turning people away soon. This Christmas was supposed to have been their triumphant hour, when the city would finally allocate enough funds for the following year to allow them to renovate the entire building. But without the numbers they would have gotten tonight, there was no way the city could justify the funds. A small, cynical voice in the back of his mind told him it was the city who had swiped all the food, but it was dismissed quickly. As stingy as they were with their budget, they wouldn't let these people starve.
He trudged to the door, faintly remembering the faces of the two "volunteers" he'd talked to earlier. He'd guessed they were probably here for the meal, and when they found there was no food they'd quickly shuffled off to the other shelter across town. He couldn't really blame them.
"Oh my God," he whispered as he opened the door wide. Dozens of boxes were piled up, delicious aromas wafting from each one. "Jane! Mike! Bea!" He called for his co-workers, who came bustling in from the empty kitchen at his shouts.
"What is it, Joe?" Mike was the first one there, peering over the other man's shoulder. He reached for the nearest box and tore the top open, whistling low at the sight of its contents. "That's a lot of food. You think all the boxes are filled like this?" Jane and Bea looked hopeful, opening another box near them. They gasped at its contents, tears filling their eyes.
"Oh Joe," Bea cried in her tiny voice, "we can feed everyone tonight!" Joe looked up, searching the streets for anyone who might have dropped the boxes off. They couldn't have gotten far, but there was no one. A fluttering caught his eye, and he quickly snatched the small note from the topmost box before it was blown away by the wind. The words written in a delicate scrawl made him smile and filled his heart with warmth.
Miracles are possible.
He handed Mike the note with instructions to get all the food inside as quickly as possible. Bea and Jane helped as Joe tightened his coat and jogged off a ways. He searched all around, but the only people he found were the tired, hungry souls waiting for a hot meal and warm drink. After a few minutes, he gave up his search and returned to help his friends.
Rose and Doctor waited by the door, listening as the last of the boxes were hauled inside. Finally, when there was nothing but silence, they leaned against the door with satisfied smiles.
"How are we doing?" Rose asked, and the Doctor pulled out the globe again. Its bluish-white glow was definitely brighter, and it reminded Rose of the stars as she gazed into its depths.
"Well," the Doctor grinned as he tucked it away again, "we only need one more miracle." His excitement was infectious, and Rose found herself being pulled into a merry dance around the console as they laughed giddily. They collapsed into the pilot's chair with matching smiles, and Rose could feel warmth seeping into her again.
"Come on," she grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. "That miracle isn't going to happen on its own." They wandered back out into the cold, shivering against the dropping temperatures. They passed carolers from a local church, and Rose dug some spare change out her pocket to drop in their donation jar. The hectic bustle of shoppers seemed to abate after nine, but still the Doctor and Rose searched for their last miracle.
They stopped again for chips at "their" diner, and they laughed about old times. She had long since gotten past the awkwardness of bringing up his former self's adventures with her. He'd told her once over a late night cup of tea that he tried to remember as much as possible about each of his former lives. He even had journals filled with tales of his exploits, each kept safely tucked away in his room. Finally, as they cleared their table and bundled back up, Rose looked at the Doctor fearfully.
"Doctor, it's just past ten," she said shakily. "What if we can't do this?" The Doctor smiled softly at her, readjusting her toboggan so it sat straight on her head.
"We can, Rose. We just have to believe." They wandered a little more for a while, enjoying the serenity that seemed to settle over the city at night. Finally, the Doctor sighed.
"Alright, let's think. We need a miracle. Where do miracles happen most often?" Rose shrugged, dusting her shoulders off as snow drifted down on them.
"Wait!" her eyes lit up, and she very nearly jumped in place as she smiled triumphantly. "The hospitals. We need to get to the nearest hospital." The Doctor grimaced, and Rose scoffed. "Oh honestly, what kind of Doctor are you…afraid of hospitals. Come on!" She started running, smiling as the Doctor matched her stride easily. It felt good to be running with him, the cold air rushing past them as they rounded corner after corner. Finally they skidded to a stop at the doors to Great Ormond Street, and Rose took deep breaths as the Doctor grinned beside her.
"If miracles can happen anywhere, they can happen here. Hang on." He slipped his hand into a side pocket of his coat, digging down to his elbow as he searched by touch. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed, pulling a pair of white lab coats from the depths. "Here you are." Rose slipped it on, giggling as it fell past her knees.
"Bit big, isn't it?" The Doctor waved her off, reaching into his inner pocket to pull out the psychic paper. "Don't suppose you have another?" She used the band on her wrist to pull her hair back, stuffing her toboggan into the Doctor's pocket.
"Hey!" he lifted his arm as she shoved her hat inside his coat. "No I do not. Guess you'll just have to stick close."
"No wandering off?" she teased with a smile, and laughed.
"Exactly. Shall we?" She followed him through the doors, nodding politely to the receptionist that barely glanced up. Seeing the Doctor's psychic paper now displayed on the lapel of his lab coat, she waved them through with a flat smile.
They discreetly checked the hospital map, punching in level 4 on the lift. Rose took a deep breath, feeling a bit braver as the Doctor took her hand. As the doors opened, the quiet beeping and humming of machinery filled the silence. A soft cry from somewhere in the distance pulled at Rose's heartstrings, but she steadied her nerves and continued on toward the NICU.
The nurse at the station looked up expectantly at their approach, but the Doctor just held out the psychic paper expectantly.
"Ah, Doctor Smith, I'm sorry but they didn't let us know you were coming."
"Does that mean the ward is unavailable for inspection?" he queried easily.
"No, of course not," she answered quickly. "But most of the children are asleep, and our staff won't be fully manned until tomorrow morning." The Doctor waved her off and smiled.
"That's quite alright, we just wanted to take a quick look before we turned in. The full tour can wait until tomorrow." The nurse smiled and buzzed them through, and the Doctor held the door as Rose slipped in before him.
"If you have any questions, my name is Nancy." The Doctor shook her hand gently.
"It's nice to meet you, Nancy. And thank you." Nurse Nancy returned to her desk as the Doctor ushered Rose forward into the open ward. Only a few of the beds were occupied, and a younger nurse sat vigilantly in the corner monitoring a screen that presumably held readouts of each child's condition. They passed the first child, a boy, sleeping peacefully with his fist curled up near his mouth. He looked to be almost 2 kilos at the most, and Rose made a soft noise in the back of her throat. The Doctor checked his chart and smiled.
"He'll be alright," he told her. "He's eating properly and gaining weight steadily." Rose let out a soft sigh and smiled back as they moved to the next bed.
A little girl was awake but quiet as they peered at her, and even in the dim light Rose could see the determination in her eyes. She was a fighter. The Doctor glanced at her vitals and nodded.
"Looks good, though her respiration is worrisome." He looked at her chart and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Heart condition…atrial septum defect. It means she has a hole in her heart," he explained at Rose's look. "They should be able to correct it." Rose ran her hand along the edge of the bed, afraid to get too close. The Doctor stepped away from her, moving over to the last child in the ward. It was the unit closest to the nurse, and Rose guessed the baby was probably the most at risk.
As they approached the nurse looked up, confusion evident on her features. As Rose looked down at the little boy, hooked up to so many machines but so very alive, the Doctor explained who they were and why they were there.
"How is he?" he asked the nurse – Jennifer, he noted on her nametag.
"He's our worst at the moment," she answered in a thick Irish accent. "He was over two months early. He wasn't breathing when they got him out, but they've managed to revive him. He's got feeding tubes and respirators now, but it doesn't look good."
"How long as he been like this?" Rose asked, her eyes never wavering from the tiny form in front of her. His bed was labeled with his name, Matthew Goldenburg, and Rose instantly committed the name to memory.
"He was born two days ago," she told them. "The doctors don't expect him to make it to Christmas."
"Where are his parents?" the Doctor inquired, looking around at the obviously empty ward.
"The parents are given accommodations in accordance with the hospital rules. His mother is over at UCLH, recovering from the complications. His daddy goes back and forth, poor man." She shook her head sadly, looking down at the child. "His chances aren't great, I'm afraid. The parents have already agreed that if there is no improvement by tomorrow evening, they will have to consider taking him off of life support. And if he does survive they're looking at caring for a mentally handicapped child for the rest of their lives. His brain was deprived of oxygen for too long, and the readouts aren't showing any promising brain activity." The Doctor read through the charts slowly, absorbing each detail, looking for a way to help. Surely if a miracle were to be performed tonight, this one would be the greatest. The nurse looked back up at the two of them with a resigned sorrow, and the Doctor felt for her.
"You are an angel," he told her truthfully, earning a soft smile from the young woman.
"I never dreamed of doing anything else," she answered. "They're all little angels." With one last sad smile she turned and resumed her vigil by the monitor. Rose grabbed the Doctor's arm hopefully.
"There has to be something you can do," she pleaded, unwilling to accept the sad defeat in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Rose, but I looked over his file." He kept his voice low so Jennifer wouldn't overhear. "There's…there's nothing."
"Please Doctor," she couldn't help the tears that welled up, and the Doctor discreetly shifted her hand into his own.
"I'm so very sorry, Rose. There isn't anything to be done. Come on, let's go." Rose couldn't believe it, and resisted his initial pull. He stepped closer to her and held her gaze. "I understand how you feel, Rose. If there was anything in this universe I could do to save him, I would. You know I would. But there's…nothing." Her shoulders slumped, defeat evident as he lead her back out the main door. She kept her head down, careful not to let the nurses see her tears. Once back out in the hallway, Rose pressed the lift button a little more forcefully than she meant to. The Doctor looked sadly at her, then down at his own coat.
"Uh oh," he said. "Hang on a minute; I left the psychic paper in the ward. Be back in a jiff." He disappeared into the NICU again. Her thoughts drifted to the little boy, looking even smaller contained in his little unit. She thought about all the Christmases the child would never have, and she felt the tears spilling over her cheeks. She wiped at them quickly, not wanting the Doctor to see them when he returned.
She wondered if this was how the Doctor felt all the time; the unfairness of everything that happened that he could not fix. She accepted that he wasn't perfect – no one was, no matter how all-knowing they seemed. But he was so much harder on himself, and through everything she'd witnessed she'd come to expect a certain level of impossible where he was concerned. To hear him say he couldn't fix something so important, so precious, it tore at her heart.
"Rose?" a cool hand on her arm pulled her from her thoughts, and when she looked up she couldn't stop the tears. The Doctor pulled her against him, maneuvering them both into the lift as it opened behind her. He hushed her as she sobbed against him, cursing the universe for once again being so cruel.
She'd dried her tears by the time the lift came to a stop, but he still kept his arm around her shoulders as they left the hospital. A clock tower chimed eleven-thirty, and Rose looked at him in defeat.
"That's it," she told him. "We're done. No more miracles, no more Christmas." He hesitated to give up, not when they were so close, but he was out of ideas. It looked like Christmas was over.
"Come on, there's nothing else we can do." he told her. She nodded against his shoulder, knowing he was right, but her heart hurt at the mere thought of returning to that place. He shifted his hold from her shoulders to her hand, pulling her along back to the TARDIS.
Rose slept fitfully that night as horrific images flashed through her mind. Thoughts of bleak winters with no Christmas and sad children filled her head, and she tossed and turned all night. Just when she finally drifted off, there was a bouncing on her bed and a rather exuberant Doctor was grinning ear to ear at her.
"Rose, look!" He thrust something at her, and she blink blearily as she sat up halfway.
"Wazzit?" she mumbled, shoving it a little further from her to get a better look. It was the marble globe, now glowing so brightly she couldn't look directly at it. "Doctor, what does it mean?"
"It means, Rose Tyler," he answered happily, "that we did it! Three miracles in one night!"
"But we only did two?" she sat up all the way, rubbing her tired face with one hand.
"I know! Either two miracles were enough, or something else happened that we weren't involved in. But everything's alright, Rose! Christmas is saved!" She laughed and fell into his arms, shrieking as he pulled her up from the bed and swung her around.
"Doctor! We have to get back to Santa." She pushed away from him and searched around frantically for clothes.
"We're already here," he told her. "I wanted to wait for you so we could deliver the news together." Rose hugged him one more time then shoved him out the door so she could change. Five minutes later – a record by the Doctor's keeping – they were leaving the TARDIS, skipping hand in hand like children.
They found Santa in the main hall, surrounded by his Vettiri. As he spotted them coming through the door, he threw his arms open and greeted them with a hearty bellow.
"My friends! You've done it!" He enveloped both of them in his arms, shaking them with joy as they laughed. "I can scarcely believe it. Three miracles in one night!" The Doctor tugged on his ear nervously as Rose scuffed the floor with her shoe.
"Um, sorry," the Doctor cleared his throat, "sorry, but we only managed two."
"Nonsense," Santa replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The fact that I am standing here before you right now, preparing for Christmas Eve proves that you succeeded."
"No Santa," Rose interrupted. "We managed to save the kids, then deliver the food, but that's all." Her voice broke at the memory of the tiny baby lying helplessly in a dim room, and she felt the Doctor grip her hand. Santa smiled down at them, laying a warm hand on Rose's shoulder.
"There, child," he soothed. "I must show you both something. Come with me." He led them out the door and across the square, into the communications building where Rose had first learned of their impossible task. They wove through lines of busy Vettiri, each moving about with individual tasks. Santa stopped in front of a large screen, ushering the small Vettiri boy out of the way. With a few swift strokes on the keyboard, he brought up an image that made Rose gasp.
"That's Matthew," she exclaimed. "But look at him!" His pallor was flushed and healthy, nothing like the frail form she'd witnessed the night before.
"Yes," Santa said with a smile. "And look, his parents are there as well." A young man with dark hair and green eyes smiled broadly as a woman with matching features leaned against his side. A doctor stood across from them, a look of astonishment on his features. Santa flipped a switch, and the room was filled with the sound of the woman's joyful cries.
"I don't understand it," the doctor was saying. "But his brain activity has increased by a phenomenal margin. Already he's breathing better, and with the surgery to repair his heart he should make full recovery. It may be too soon to be this hopeful but…it's simply astonishing." Matthew's mother wiped her tears and slipped a gloved finger in to stroke her son's cheek.
"I prayed every moment of every day," she said through her tears. "It's a miracle. Our little miracle." She collapsed against her husband again, sobbing with relief, and Santa turned off the feed. Rose looked completely shocked, and her gaze shifted instantly to the Doctor.
"You said you couldn't do anything," she accused, remembering how he'd slipped back in without her for a few moments.
"I didn't!" he insisted. "I got my psychic paper and left. This is just…."
"Impossible," Rose finished for him. Santa laughed merrily, a sound that warmed Rose's heart and made her smile.
"My dearest Rose," he cupped her cheek fondly, the way her mother used to when she was scared. "This time of year, miracles are possible." She sobbed once and threw her arms around him, soaking up the warmth that definitely was from more than just his bright red coat. He patted her head with a massive hand, smiling over her shoulder at the still flabbergasted Doctor.
"Doctor," he said, releasing his hold on Rose. "You have helped me again, old friend. The last time you were here you refused recompense. Now, I'm afraid I must insist." He motioned for them to follow, and the Doctor folded Rose's hand into his own as they trailed behind the towering figure. He led them through winding streets, down an alley, and across a field to a small cottage sitting outside the village.
Dark smoke rose from the chimney, and Rose could smelt the faint aroma of wood smoke in the air. Two old rockers sat on the covered porch, and red and green lights hung from the white picket fence surrounding the property. Rose looked sideways at the Doctor, but her friend just smiled knowingly and gripped her hand tighter. Santa stomped up the steps, clearing his boots of snow before opening the front door.
Warm air washed over them, filling Rose's nostrils with the smell of gingerbread and eggnog. The Doctor closed the door behind them just a stout, motherly woman stepped into the room. She was shorter than Rose with a pinched, smiling face and bespectacled blue eyes. She wiped her hands on her white apron and greeted Santa with a chaste kiss to his cheek as he stooped over.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready, dear?" she inquired, and Rose let out a soft laugh. The woman who was so obviously Santa's wife peered up at them and lifted her hand to her chest. "Oh my! You didn't say you were bringing guests."
"My dear, this is the Doctor and his friend, Rose. My friends, this is my charming wife and companion." Rose held out her hand in greeting, but the older woman surged forward and wrapped her in a hug.
"Oh, you must be absolutely chilled to the bone. Come in! Come in! Let's get you a nice hot cup of hot cocoa." She bustled into the enormous kitchen and very nearly pushed them into their seats as she dropped a steaming mug of cocoa in front of each of them, along with some gingerbread cookies.
"This is surreal," Rose whispered to the Doctor, but he just munched happily on a cookie and smiled back at her. "I mean, I'm sitting in the kitchen of the Santa Claus while Mrs. Claus serves me cookies and cocoa. Even with all I've seen, this is unbelievable."
"Tis the season, Rose Tyler," Santa's voice was gentle behind her, and Rose turned in her seat.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound –"
"Quite alright, my dear. I understand your feelings quite well. Now, I really must get back to work, busy schedule and all, but I wanted to speak to each of you personally. Rose, would you like to go first?" She looked at the Doctor, who gestured for her to go ahead. It wasn't fair, she thought, the Doctor did most of the work.
"Go on, Rose," he nudged her gently. "It's alright." Her chair scraped on the floor as she scooted from the table. Santa took her head and led her back through the living room and into a small study.
It was cozy, with a big armchair in the center of the room and a fireplace already set ablaze. He gestured for Rose to sit down, and he stood beside her as she settled into the worn leather. She felt a little silly, like a child trying to sit in her father's chair, but the warmth in Santa's eyes comforted her.
"Now, Rose," he started. "You have done so much good for others in your travels. You are selfless, and fiercely devoted to those you love. But I sense a great sorrow within you, a recent loss that is eating away at you." Rose felt the tears stinging her eyes, and she ducked her head. "Child, tears are nothing to be ashamed of. They are merely an outward expression of the depth of your compassion. You have such a big heart Rose; you always have. When that baby bird fell from its nest, you ignored all your friends' warnings and climbed up the tree to put it back. When young Mickey was being teased by his friends, you stood up for him, even though you were a few years younger. When others would have given up, you stood your ground and helped others even though it cost you so much. So Rose the Valiant, what can I do for you?"
Mum. The word echoed through her mind. All she had to do was whisper it, utter it aloud, and this man could bring her back. She knew it in her heart. But how selfish was it? Pete would be devastated. And how fair would it be to Mickey, leaving him there? And her own mother, who had no doubt settled into some sort of life…who was Rose to decide her fate? No, she thought as she blinked back her tears, I can't do it.
"The Doctor," she said even before she'd had time to think further.
"What about him?" Santa asked kindly.
"He does so much for others," she began, gaining steam as she thought about everything she'd seen with the Doctor. "And he asks for nothing in return. I just…I want him to be happy." Santa smiled at her, a proud smile that spoke volumes.
"As long as you are with him, Rose, I am sure the Doctor will be content. But what about you?" Again Rose faltered, and he gestured for her to come over. He laid a hand on her shoulder, tucking against his side.
"My mum," she said finally. "I want my mum to be happy. And to know that I'm alright. That's probably what's eating at her." Santa closed his eyes and laid his other hand upon her head. After a few seconds, he opened them and smiled down at her.
"You are such a special being, Rose Tyler." He kissed her forehead lightly, and Rose closed her eyes as the smell of pine and pipe smoke wafted over her. "And I want you to have this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an object. It was no larger than her palm, but it was a perfect replica of the tarandu that pulled his sleigh. "Minna says you were very taken with our reindeer." Rose took the tiny replica into her hands, cradling it carefully.
"Thank you," she reached up and hugged him properly. "I'll never forget this." Santa laughed then, pushing her back out toward the kitchen.
"I should think not! Now send that Doctor of yours in here." Rose stepped back into the kitchen with a contented smile on her face. The Doctor saw her immediately and walked over, dutifully awed by the gift she'd been given. He patted her shoulder and went off to the study, leaving Rose alone with Mrs. Claus.
"Now dear, why don't you sit down and tell me what's happening on Earth? It's been so long since I've visited." Rose laughed and joined the elderly woman at the table, regaling her with tales of Christmas mornings with her mum and winter outings with Mickey and Shareen. Almost ten minutes later the Doctor returned, his demeanor subdued.
"What is it, Doctor?" she laid a hand on his arm, but when he looked up at her she couldn't believe it. He was crying. There were tears trailing down his cheek, and Rose quickly pulled him against her. Mrs. Claus slipped out silently as the Doctor sobbed into Rose's shoulder, and she soothed him with light touches and a gentle voice. When she inquired again, he just shook his head and stood, wiping away all the evidence of his tears.
"It's time we got back to the TARDIS. Busy time, you know." He held out his hand and Rose took it immediately, letting him lead her out of the house and back through the village. Rose waved to the Vettiri, busier than ever as Christmas Eve ticked away. Once back in the TARDIS, the Doctor put them into the vortex as Rose retreated to her room to put her gift in a special place.
When she went looking, however, she couldn't find the Doctor anywhere. The control room, the kitchen, even the study was empty. She thought about looking for his room, but as the TARDIS had never shown it to her before she didn't even know where to start. Finally she returned to her own room, filled with sadness and confusion.
"I was looking for you," the Doctor whispered from her bed as she entered. She jumped for a moment, her hand flying to her chest against her racing heart. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm sorry." Rose left the door open and moved to sit beside him on the bed. Their hips and legs were pressed together as she slipped an arm around his waist to lean against his shoulder. He didn't move, but Rose felt nothing but content as he relaxed next to her.
"Me too," she admitted. "What's wrong?" He laughed softly, but there was little humor in it.
"Nothing's wrong, Rose. In fact, quite the opposite." A few more seconds of silence, then, "Santa told me what you asked for." Rose closed her eyes, the familiar sting of tears rising again behind her eyes. "It's funny, though," he continued as if he hadn't noticed her breath hitch in her chest. "You know what I asked for?" Rose shook her head, and the motion loosed a lone tear from her eye. The Doctor lifted his hand to hold her cheek, wiping it away with his thumb. "I wished that you would be happy; that there was something I could do for you to make your pain go away." More tears, and this time he pulled her against his chest.
She sobbed then, cried harder than she ever had before. The pain and anguish of losing her mother forever spilled over and soaked his jacket, and when he laid back she went with him still clinging to him. He whispered nonsensical things to her, some in English, some in Gallifreyan, but all words of comfort. He rocked her and stroked her back as she cried, and when she was finally spent he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Rose. I am so sorry you had to go through that. But I promise you that I will do everything in my power. I will stop at nothing to get you back to her."
"No!" Rose shot up, nearly colliding her head with his own. "I don't want to go to her. I'm never leaving you, Doctor! But I want her to know that I'm okay. I want to know that she's okay. I just…wish I could see her one more time." The Doctor relaxed then, smiling knowingly.
"Well then," he grabbed her hand a pulled her to stand. He framed her face with his hands, wiping away the remnants of her tears with his thumbs. "I have an idea." He froze for a moment, staring into her eyes, then leaned down and kissed her chastely on the lips. "Come on." He reclaimed her hand and pulled her out of the room and down the hall. Rose was still a bit stunned from the kiss to do more than follow, but when her mind finally caught up she squeezed his hand lovingly and smiled.
"Where are we going?" she asked finally, letting him place her reverently in the pilot's chair as he darted about the center console. After a few button pushes and dial turns, he paused and looked at her with an expression she'd never seen on him before. For a moment, hope welled within Rose and she gazed back at him, letting him see everything in her eyes. Then, he swallowed thickly and pulled a nearby lever.
"I'm going to kill a star for you, Rose."
Wow, this was a beast. And I did it in two days. By the way, I didn't get a chance to proof it, so please point out any mistakes. Also, in the spirit of the season, I would like to take the time to post the following:
"I don't understand what the big deal is. If you are Jewish, tell me Happy Hanukkah. If you are Christian, tell me Merry Christmas. If you are African, tell me Joyous Kwanzaa. If you don't prefer those, tell me Happy Holidays. I will not be offended. I will be thankful that you took the time to say something nice to me."
For all of you devout Whovians out there...this is canon with the television show, both new and old, excluding one of Matt Smith's Christmas specials. I understand that in the extended universe (comics, short stories, etc.) that the Doctor has met Santa several times. A Christmas Story, The Man Who (Nearly) Killed Christmas, and A Christmas Carol are not considered canon to this story.
Anyway, Happy Holidays all. I hope these past days have been filled with joy and merriment, friends and family. Good night, and please don't forget to leave a review if you liked it. Or if you didn't. Or just to say hi. I'm not picky... :)