Chapter 4 ~ "We Wish you a Merry Christmas'
Back on the T.A.R.D.I.S. the Doctor demonstrated his moves and coordination as he deftly span and tweaked controls sending them shuddering off into the vortex. Rose retreated to the kitchen and put the kettle on, licking her dry lips at the thought of the warm, sweet liquid heating her from the inside out.
"Brew's up," she called moments later, returning to the console room but the Doctor was nowhere to be seen, the greenish glow of the time rotor pulsing and humming in its comforting song to the doomed ceiling and smooth, coral struts of its voluminous home.
She huffed and went on her merry way, checking the library and living room with the 'comfy beanbag chair' first as that's were he usually skulked off to post invigorating romp and adventure. She continued to try the gardens and observatory, feeling rather pensive herself that night and knowing the soothing effect of these rooms for contemplation but again was foiled in her quest. Eventually, though she wasn't sure why she was still looking at this point as the tea must be getting cold, she pushed open the door of the Doctor's bedroom, giving a soft 'rat-a-tat-tat' on her entry.
"Oh!" she breathed as she saw him relaxing in Howard's, stripy pyjamas and a warm dressing gown, seated beside a small but pleasing Christmas tree, decorated with silver and T.A.R.D.I.S. blue baubles with crackling gold lights and a crystal lightning ball as its crown.
"Tea?" they both questioned in unison, a mug in each hand, before laughing shyly.
Rose set hers down on the desk near the door that was littered with blueprints, cogs, screws, nails, wires and circuitry of every description as she noted the Doctor's mugs were still blissfully steaming.
"Thanks," she accepted gratefully and perched on the edge of his bed opposite him.
They sipped in comfortable silence, humming at the delicious tingling warmth and familiar smell.
"Thanks for today, it was wonderful. You didn't have to, you know, make it up to me or anything but it was perfect," she smiled and leant forward to rub his knee fondly.
"Rose Tyler, I promised Christmas and I was honour bound to deliver plus I love to see you smile," both blushed a little and ducked their heads as hands instinctively rose with their twin beverages.
"Ah," the Doctor cleared his throat before setting his tea on the floor and fishing in a bigger on the inside pocket, "Merry Christmas Rose!" He produced a small brown box with a gold ribbon and hastily stuck out his hand in a seemingly confident but clearly nervous gesture.
Rose looked shocked and a little uneasy, "What's this?"
"Oh just a…thingy-ma-gig…its nothing really…just…you know, tradition, Christmas, gift giving and all that."
"Oh but I didn't…"
Gifts were supposed to be good things, right? So why did Rose look so taken a back? He pondered. Oh!
"It's fine, wasn't excepting…" he gestured wildly and placatingly with his hands and slightly red face.
Rose laughed suddenly, "You daft pillock! Oh course I did," and she wiped out a small, square cube wrapped in red, glittery paper and jumped up to give it to him, glancing his cheek with a swift kiss on the way.
"Thank you!" she squealed like a hyperactive child on Christmas Eve and bounced back onto the bed, drawing her knees up and inspecting the small package curiously, tongue just poking out between her teeth.
"What is it?" she chimed happily.
"Oh well you'll just have to open it to find out, won't you?" he beamed.
"It's not some random, greasy part for the T.A.R.D.I.S. is it? You know, like Homer Simpson buying Marge a bowling ball that's really for himself as she doesn't even play?"
"Would I do that?" he pouted and Rose arched a disbelieving eyebrow in return.
She started to untie the bow, "S'not alive is it?" pausing suddenly.
"Oh, just open it!" he sighed in exasperation but with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She gave him such a full, genuine smile and squeaked in anticipation but then carefully set the gift on the bed beside her, "You first."
"Oh for the love of bananas!" The Doctor tore into his present with relish and the carelessness of curiosity, unlike Jackie who would tear off each little piece of sellotape to apparently 'try to save the paper' but really just wanted to eek out the drama and surprise, the paper then bundled up and tossed without a second thought.
Beneath the torn shreds was a marbled, intricately carved, wooden box that the Doctor looked at warily and then promptly licked. "Thank you. Very fine craftsmanship," he enthused.
"No! Open it, you big dummy," Rose shrieked sitting on the very edge of the bed and trying to hide the fact that she was biting her thumb in her usual, nervous tell.
The Doctor lifted the little latch and peered inside. There, sitting smugly and pompously in its ornate container, was a grey stone.
"Hmmm…thank you? Just what I've always wanted. Oh, is it a pet rock? I've heard of those but I thought they were supposed to be prettier?"
Rose laughed and the sound was like playful music and life.
"It's a night light," she stated simply and he looked at her with that 'ridiculous human that's just dribbled on my shirt' look, "It's a rock!" he pronounced with deliberation.
"Noooo," she swatted his arm as he stared her out with mild concern forming for her mental health or intelligence.
"It's a night light!" she looked so confident and pleased with herself that he had to smile.
"It reacts to particles in the air and glows. Wait 'til you see, it'll start doing it in a minute," the Doctor give her a pitying look that silently spoke 'sucker' to the room at large but low and behold the thing started to emit a faint, amber light.
"Oh," he almost dropped it but recovered quickly.
"What's more it also reacts to psychic energy so if you erm…have a bad dream in the middle of the night, you just focus on it and it can glow much brighter and even in different colours," she finished quickly and just as quickly the Doctor gave her a true, honest to God, smile. His Rose, protecting and watching over him even as he slept, even as he battled the one terror he could never escape or vanquish no matter how far he ran - himself and his onerous memories that divided and conquered in overwhelming fury, demanding and insisting on his attention and punishment.
The man who has everything and nothing smiled and smiled at the human before him who somehow seemed to understand him and constantly surprise and enlighten him.
Rose reached blindly for the Doctor's small token, gave it one last worried look and took a deep breath before opening the box. Inside was a blue tinged, silver pendant, expertly etched with the image of a long haired woman sitting under a weeping willow tree and bordered with a circle of flowers.
"It's lovely," she sighed.
"Hmm…it's their patron saint of travellers, for good luck," he supplied.
"What do you call a female saint?"
"I don't know what do you call a female saint?"
"No," she laughed. "It's not a joke, I was just wondering what her name was?"
"Oh no, Rose that's a man. That's just how the male of the species is depicted in their art. His name's Columbo, if you can believe it! A cross between Peter Falk and Columbus! Admiral's hat and shaggy rain coat?"
She smiled and silently argued, No it's not Doctor. That's a picture of Floraline, the goddess of love and marriage which I asked a vendor about earlier and which you certainly must know. Instead she simply said, "Thank you" and slipped off the bed onto her knees, reaching up to him and drawing him down for a 'thank you' kiss. She didn't know where she'd found the audacity but he hadn't stopped her yet so she pressed her lips to his and twined her fingers in his hair.