A/N: Check out my other Christmas fic, 'Flickering'!

A Sparrow and Nightingale Christmas

It was a cold night, but Sally Sparrow wouldn't let a little chill in the air ruin her Christmas spirit. She had put on a burgundy dress that came to just past her knees, and had tied her hair back with a narrow green ribbon. With the white lace edging on the dress, and the dressy black shoes, she felt very elegant indeed. Just as she was checking her teeth one last time, the doorbell rang. She opened it to find Larry standing before her, in a black suit coat and …

"A tie! I don't think I've ever seen you wearing a tie, Lawrence Nightingale."

"First time for everything, eh? Come along, taxi's waiting."

She smiled at him and he smiled back. They slid into the taxi and Sally reached for Larry's hand. Before taking her hand, he shoved something into his pocket, too quickly for her to see.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You put something in your pocket."

"Oh, it was … nothing. Nothing. Don't worry about it." He had an odd look on his face, that sort of nervous awkward look that he had had when they had first gotten to know each other. She realized that he didn't need her prying at the moment, so she forgot about it and enjoyed the ride. Christmas lights were strung on every street corner and trees were hung with garlands and topped with stars. There were even a few groups of carolers here and there.

"I love Christmas," she sighed.

"Yeah," agreed Larry. "By the way. This is our first Christmas together!"

"It is! As you keep saying." She smiled to let him know she wasn't being sarcastic. "It will be the best Christmas ever, too!"

"And each one after it better than the last," said Larry, then coughed. "OK, that sounded really cheesy."

"No, it was sweet. Really."

They arrived at Wigmore Hall and Sally found herself a bit intimidated by all the obviously rich concert-goers that were streaming through the doors. She had saved for months to buy the dress she was wearing, and she didn't even want to know how much Larry's suit had cost.

"Come on," he said. "You look just as good as anyone else. Better, actually."

"Really?" She wasn't convinced.

"Really. You're … you're beautiful. You really are." He scanned the rows of seats. "And there's ours."

They sat down and Sally found herself as much awed by the building as by the people in it.

"Wow," she said. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Larry shifted in his seat. "I've never been to one of these before. I've never even heard the whole of Handel's Messiah."

"I went to a real little concert hall years ago, with my mum and dad. But it was so boring! All in Italian or something, and I was only ten. I wanted to go home almost as soon as we got there."

Larry laughed quietly. He was about to say something when there was a slight commotion and a man and woman squeezed in front of them.

"Sorry!" the man said, as if he was too distracted to really mean it.

"Pardon me," the woman said. "But our seats are between yours and theirs," she nodded several seats to Sally's left. "And we're here late. Thanks to him." She nodded at the man, who straightened his black bow-tie and looked dignified. "I'm Clara, by the way."

"Shhh!" said the man. "It's starting and I want to hear everything!"

"It's just clapping," Clara said, joining in the applause as the director and the soloists came on stage. "I don't see why we should clap before we know if they're any good or not."

"It's so that if they disappoint us, at least they've had their clapping," replied the man. He was clapping vigorously as he spoke and he looked delighted. Sally decided she liked him.

The lights went dim and she leaned forward, with Larry's hand in hers, as the Pastoral Symphony began.

Two and a half hours laters, with the pulse of the last thrilling movements pounding in her head, Sally stood and realized she hadn't moved at all through the whole concert. She was stiff and her mouth was dry.

"What did you think?" asked Larry.

"Oh, I thought it was beautiful! Once in a lifetime! It would never be the same if I came again."

"I thought it was brilliant," said Clara. "I love oratorios and symphonies. I once took piano lessons; I wanted to be a concert pianist, but it didn't work out in the end."

"Clara!" her companion called.

"Be right with you, Doctor!"

"Hang on a minute!" said Sally, while at the same time Larry said, "Doctor?"

"What? Do you know him?" Clara laughed.

"No. No. It's just … no, it's not him, is it Larry? It just took me by surprise, that's all. Never mind."

"Doctor!" Clara called. "Someone wants your autograph."

Larry groaned. "We've got things to do. We don't want your autograph, Doctor."

"Yeah, sorry," Sally shook the Doctor's hand as he came up to them. "Nice meeting you, though. And you, Clara."

"Wait just a second." The Doctor scanned her carefully. "I think I recognize you. Don't move. Don't talk." He seemed to be counting on his fingers as he muttered under his breath. "Oh yes! Sally. Sally Sparrow! I'm afraid the last time we met I was rather in a hurry."

"But, no, wait … " Larry inched away. "You're not the same bloke. I saw him. He was taller than you, wasn't he Sally? And he had different hair, different face."

"People change." The Doctor waved it off as of no consequence. "But it's me, right here. I'm glad to properly meet you at last. This is my companion, Clara Oswald."

"Hold it right there," said Sally. "Last time I saw you, you had someone else with you (if it really was you). Martha. Where's she?"

"Oh, she left. Never really did take to time-travel as much as some. But you! Look at you, still going out together. That's wonderful. That's really great."

Sally looked at Larry, who had for some reason gone a deep shade of red and was looking down at his shoes.

"Well," the Doctor stuck out his hand. "It was wonderful to see you two. I hope we meet up again in the future. Or the past. Well, we'll definitely be meeting up in the past, eh?" He shook Sally's hand again. "Thanks for getting that box for me. It took guts."

"Well, not really," she said with a nervous laugh. She still had nightmares about the Weeping Angels. "I didn't have much choice, did I?"

The Doctor put out his hand for Larry to shake, then leaned in and whispered,

"Don't lose your nerve, eh? You'd best do it before you do."

"What's that?" Sally looked at him.

"Must be off, then!" The Doctor grinned at her and took Clara's hand.

"Goodbye!" called Clara.

As soon as the Doctor and Clara had left, Larry pulled her over to a seat and fished around in his pocket, then knelt down awkwardly in front of her.

"Oh. Oh my goodness," whispered Sally as he pulled the ring out. "Yes! Of course I will."

"But I haven't asked you yet."

"Oh. Sorry." She waited expectantly.

"Sally, will you marry me?"

"You daft man." She wiped a tear away and then threw her arms around him. "Thank you so much! For everything."

"I hope you're still saying that forty years from now," he said with a laugh.

"Only if you put up with me for that long," said Sally.

Hand-in-hand they left Wigmore Hall.

Finis

A/N: One week 'til Christmas! I debated about whether I should post this ON Christmas, but decided to do it now. I couldn't wait :D Hope everyone enjoys it. There seem to be so few fics about Sally and Lawrence, and I hope I added to the good ones instead of the sappy or pathetic ones :) Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!