AN: Look at me, I'm branching out! This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, so I'm a little nervous. But one of my internet friends, Nightstar Pheonix, has been publishing a lot of Doctor Who fanfics lately, and it's inspired me. (They're really good, go check them out when your through here!) Anyway, there's a theory that when The Doctor left Rose at the end of "Rose," he was gone for quite some time. He only came back seconds later in Rose's time. This is what my fanfic is about. It was originally a one-shot, but it got too long and I divided it up into three parts. They're all going to be posted at the same time, though. Enjoy!
Disclaimer (sorry, I always forget these): I do not own the rights to Doctor Who or any of it's characters. It belongs to BBC.
Part 1: Rose
The Doctor walked calmly to the door of the Tardis. Mickey—or was it Ricky? No matter—had collapsed on the ground, terrified after his ordeal. Rose had just finished checking in on her mother, and was now comforting her boyfriend.
"Fat lot of good you were," she said.
"Nestene Consciousness?" He snapped his fingers. "Easy."
"You were useless in there. You'd be dead if it wasn't for me."
The Doctor realized she had been talking to him and sobered up. "Yes, I would. Thank you." Rose smiled. "Right then, I'll be off. Unless, uh, I don't know," he tried to sound nonchalant, but he desperately wanted a companion again. "You could come with me." Rose looked intrigued. "This box isn't just a London hopper, you know, it goes anywhere in the universe. Free of charge."
"Don't," Mickey said. "He's an alien! He's a thing!"
"He's not invited," The Doctor said, insulted. "What do you think? You could stay here, fill your life with work, food and sleep, or you could go…anywhere."
"Is it always this dangerous?" Rose asked.
"Yeah," he said, smiling.
Mickey hugged her legs tightly, shaking too much to stand. Rose shook her head.
"Yeah, I can't. I've, um…I've got to go and find my mum. And someone's got to look after this stupid lump."
The Doctor tried hard not to look disappointed. "Okay," he said at last. "See ya around."
He managed a weak smile, then closed the door. Walking to the console, he pushed some buttons and spun a little wheel. With wheezing and groaning, the Tardis took off into the time vortex. The Doctor hadn't really been paying attention to the coordinates, so when he heard cheering and clapping outside, he was surprised.
"That's more like it," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "A party! Or a parade," he amended, looking at his surroundings.
He needed a good parade to cheer him up. It had only been a day since his regeneration. Regenerations were always hard, but this one was especially so. He couldn't quite remember how he had died, but it must have been shortly after Gallifrey had…
NO, he told himself firmly. Don't think of that. Not now.
When the Tardis had crashed landed on Planet Earth, he had immediately noticed trouble, and before he knew it was fighting the Nestene Consciousness. With Rose. Briefly, he had forgotten his past and his troubles. And then she declined his offer to travel with him. It hurt, there was no denying it. He thought she had enjoyed it, the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, being a hero and saving the planet. If only he could have saved Gallifrey.
Focus on the parade.
There wasn't much to focus on, as the parade hadn't actually reached his position in the crowd yet. But looking around, The Doctor discovered that he was in America, on the street corner near where President Kennedy was assinated. Upon further investigation, he saw that he was right across the street from the building where the famous photo was taken seconds before the gun fired. Slowly his solomn eyes moved up through the windows to the very spot where the camera had been…But it was there, now! Why…
Suddenly the camera snapped, a gun fired, and he understood. The Doctor's gaze fell back to the parade. The President's car was right in front of him, and Kennedy grimaced in pain.
"No!" he yelled, and fled across the park. He'd seen too many deaths in the past few days. He didn't want to see another one.
But there was no way to escape the screams. The panic of the people as their world was turned upside down. The Doctor tried to remember where he had parked the Tardis, but Gallifrey burned in his eyes. He couldn't see anything but his beloved planet, dying at his own hands.
"Daddy!" a little boy screamed. It sounded like his son.
The Doctor whipped around and saw him. A five year old boy in the crowd, scared yet uncomprehending, was scooped up by his father. It was not The Doctor's son. His son, his precious little boy who loved him so much and trusted him with his life, was dead.
He kept running.
Somehow he found the Tardis and burst back inside. "Take me somewhere nice!" he pleaded. "Somewhere peaceful!"
The Tardis took off again. In the confusion of the Texans on that dreadful day in 1963, nobody noticed. When it landed, The Doctor double checked the date. London, 1998. Very peaceful. No aliens he was aware of.
The Tardis had landed in a mall, and judging from the decorations, it was Christmas time. A very anxious young man rounded the corner; his name tag read Steve, department manager. When he sighted The Doctor, he came at a run.
"How can I help you?" The Doctor asked.
"Northern accent? Perfect! Would you dress up as Father Christmas for our last two kids?"* the manager pleaded. "I don't know who you are, but you'll be paid, I promise. Our original disappeared right before these last two came."
"Well it's all rather sudden," The Doctor said. "But who am I to turn down someone in need?"
A few minutes later, he was dressed and being shown to where the two children were waiting by an annoyed looking elf.
"I look ridiculous," she said. "I just want to take this silly thing off!"
"Oi, don't say that in front of the kids. They really believe in this stuff you know."
"Not these two. Good luck with them."
The Doctor stepped into view and got a huge surprise. First of all, they were not little children. Almost teenagers, and they didn't look too happy to be here. And secondly, he knew exactly who they were.
"Rose Tyler and Rickey Smith! Merry Christmas!"'
"My name's Mickey. And how do you know our names?" Mickey asked.
"Right, Mickey. Sorry. I tend to relapse every now and then and forget the specifics. Speaking of, how old are you nowadays?"
"I'm twelve and he's thirteen," Rose said. "You should know that, if you knew our names."
"I'm getting rather old."
"How old?" Rose asked. "You don't look very old for Santa Claus, if you believe in that stuff."
"Which you don't?"
"No."
"I knew your names, didn't I? Well, almost."
"Someone probably told you," Mickey said suspiciously.
"Did not. Ask my elf." He gestured to the girl who had accompanied him. She shook her head in amazement.
"I didn't," she said.
"Alright," Mickey said, thinking. "If you're really Father Christmas, then tell me this. How do you fit all the presents in one sleigh, and how do you deliver them all in one night? I mean, I know the different time zones must make it easier, but it's still physically impossible!"
"I'll tell you if you can keep a secret. The sleigh is bigger on the inside, and can travel in time." Which was not a lie, the real Father Christmas actually did have Time Lord technology.
"No way," Rose said.
"Yes way."
"But no one's invented a time machine yet," Mickey insisted.
"Can't time machines travel back in time?"
"Oh. I suppose you're right."
"Now do you believe me?"
"Suppose so," Mickey said. "For today anyway. I'd like a black skateboard with flames please. If you can make one by tonight."
The Doctor saw Jackie Tyler, a few feet away, scribbling on a piece of paper. He suspected that she had some last minute shopping to do and not a clue what to get Rose and Mickey. Though this was not the best way to get the information out of the kids, it certainly was creative, and had taken a lot to get them here. The Doctor made a note never to get on her bad side.
"Skateboard it is. What about you, Rose?"
Rose looked back at her mother before answering. "If you really are Father Christmas, then I want a red bicycle, exactly my size, to replace the one that was run over last week by a truck. Mum says we can't afford a new one right now, but your Santa, and you give things out for free. IF you do this, then I'll believe it."
The Doctor looked over Rose's shoulder at Jackie, who had stopped writing and was staring at her daughter in disbelief and desperation. He smiled cheerily at her.
"With pleasure. See you kids next year. Unless of course you happen to see one of my representatives instead. I can't be everywhere at the same time, it's too tiring for an old timer like me. Be good now. Merry Christmas!"
Rose and Mickey walked off with Jackie, chattering happily. The Doctor quickly shed his suit, declined the payment, and raced back to the Tardis. He was determined to give Rose the best Christmas ever. If she wouldn't go traveling with him, then this is how he would thank her for saving him. Presently, he found the perfect red bike, just Rose's size, and had her name engraved in fancy pink script. It was quite beautiful, and he couldn't wait to see her face the next morning. Using the Tardis, he snuck into the Tyler's home late that night, somehow remembering how to silence the noise (the only time he ever remembered). He placed the wrapped bike in front of the tree and hid a small camera on a shelf nearby.
The next morning, he watched as Rose came out of her room and saw the huge box in her living room. Eyes wide, she ripped off the wrapping and squealed with delight when she saw the gift. Jackie came hurrying in, and when she saw the bicycle she was speechless. Rose hurried off to show Mickey, more excited than she had ever been in her life. Jackie sank to her knees and started crying, overwhelmed. Smiling, The Doctor hit the vaporization button, and the camera disappeared with a sound.
Those reactions had been good enough for him. And now it was time to travel again.
Southampton, United Kingdom, December 27th, 1911. Nothing significant here. He stepped out onto the dark street and was immediately rammed into by a ten year old girl.
"Whoa, steady on," he said, helping her to her feet. Then he noticed her tear stained face. "What's the matter? Why are you crying?"
"Please sir, let me go! I have to find a doctor!"
"I'm a doctor. Maybe I can help, if you tell me what's wrong."
"It's my little brother, sir. We think he's dying."
"Let me get my medical bag and I'll be round shortly. I believe I left it in this police box."
"Why would you leave it in a police box?" the little girl wailed as The Doctor hurried into the Tardis. "We need to hurry!"
"Don't worry," he said, popping back out with a period correct medical bag. "I've got all the time in the world."
"Ray doesn't!" she cried as they raced along the streets.
"Ray? That's a good name. Short for Raymond I suppose. Good name. Means mighty protector. Well, now I'm going to protect him. Come on…oh, what's your name?"
"Thelma. Thelma Daniels."
"Come on, Thelma Daniels! I've seen too many deaths lately. I won't allow another one to happen."
*Quick note, I don't know how British people do Santa Claus/Father Christmas visits. They don't exactly cover that part in Doctor Who. Just that Santa's playing band instruments are usually robots trying to kill you. Not that helpful for this story. If anyone knows let me know, otherwise it'll stay americanized.