Chapter Summary: Rose is beyond frustrated when the children's creative intelligence results in an explosion of melted candy canes.

Chapter Notes: As always, my thanks to my darling betas mrsbertucci and Rose_Nebula for offering their unstinting support and insightful comments. ((((hugs, ladies))))

Thanks to doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. The one I'm using today is Candy Canes.

December 24th, 2017

Dear Father Christmas,

Ooooooh, some days I just want to tear my hair out. Today, in case you couldn't guess, is one of them. It was completely mad! The Doctor aggroed (full Oncoming Bah Humbug), the TARDIS is in a snit, the children are in solitary lock-up until the foreseeable future (imposed by aggro-Doctor), and I have candy cane melted into my hair. The smell of burned sugar is everywhere! And on top of all that we're expected at Mum and Dad's in a few hours for Christmas Eve, and I'm not even sure we can pilot the TARDIS in her current state. We've been travelling this past week, so Mum suggested we could stay at the mansion overnight tonight and open pressies with them Christmas morning. Honestly I just want to go to bed and stay there for a very, very long time.

Even though it's completely against everything me and the Doctor agreed on, this is one of those days when it's really tempting to consider cheating a little with the timelines and stealing a few hours to give us a chance to get it together. It'll never happen, but it's sure nice to think about.

Actually, the whole of autumn has been a bit of a challenge, if I'm being completely honest. We decided to do try something new this year. When the school year began in September, we enrolled Hope at her own age level to help her to socialize (that's another story! Let's just say, some attitude adjustment was necessary.) That meant taking the TARDIS out on the weekends to explore and educate the children, Doctor-style, which was lovely. But, it also meant the two kiddies left at home during the week whilst Hope was at school weren't having their intelligence challenged as much as would be considered ideal… for them. It's a constant battle trying to keep on top of them to figure out what they'll get into next.

I don't quite remember why we didn't enroll them in the Torchwood Nursery… Some nonsense about me needing to be home to do the school-run, morning and afternoon, and since they had each other for company, they might as well stay home too and drive me mental while they were at it. I mean, don't get me wrong, Santa, it was a mutual decision between me and the Doctor. We talked it over and decided since he's enjoying working in the Torchwood labs so much, he should keep doing it, and he relieves me whenever I really need it. It's just some days I find myself questioning my life choices...

Anyway, the upshot of it is, this past week, we thought we'd give ourselves a nice break. We took Hope out of school a week early for a few days of hols before settling back to Earth-life over Christmas. It started out great, exploring cave life on Naotol-ri-Pibol one day and observing the process of the Grand Canyon gradually forming over eons from the TARDIS doors the next. (That little trick always floors me: to have the TARDIS hover in one point in space, but move through time, so the evolution of the planet plays out like a time-lapse film before your eyes! Brilliant!) But our final stop, yesterday, was the absolute best Christmas planet in either universe: 63rd Century Yultidia! I know, I know, the name is cheesier than my mum's festive nutty cheese ball, but it sure makes up for it in many wonderful ways.

You'd love Yultidia, Santa, for a chance to get away. It's completely impractical and over-the-top, not at all suited for building toys, but still everything's decked out in Christmas cheer. And there's so much to do: reindeer-pulled sleigh rides (not that that's anything special for you), shops, carnivals and amusement parks, ice skating, sledding, and all kinds of other winter sports. There's brilliant, posh hotels and restaurants, the ultimate hot chocolate, and the most wonderful spas… ever! You can guess where I spent most of my time. You and Mrs. Claus should come and treat yourselves to a post-Christmas massage some year. You deserve it!

(I could bloody use another massage, myself, right about now.)

So, while I was enjoying my day at the spa, the Doctor and the brood went exploring. They went snow tubing and they each got to ride a reindeer. And then they went shopping…

Hope, being the most diplomatic of them all (and not just because she's the eldest… it's just her nature) convinced her pushover of a Daddy (she has him wound around every single one of her little fingers) to allow the three of them to buy, in addition to a soft toy each, Christmas decorations to add to Gran and Grandad's setup this year. Of course they chose the tackiest, most garish multicoloured garland possible. Now I'm not talking about tinsel-garland, yeah. I'm talking about fake metallic tree branches in every shade of the rainbow and then some. A bit naff. Not that Mum would mind one little bit. Even though she's gone a bit posh, living in luxury these last few years, she could never be accused of being particularly sophisticated in her decorating tastes. And besides if her grandkids want something, her grandkids get it.

They also bought a huge box of candy canes to hang from the garland, and no doubt from other places as well, given the quantity of them. I'm not quite sure what the Doctor had been thinking, allowing them to buy so many. Probably thinking with his sweet tooth instead of his brain.

Anyway, they picked me up from the spa, and we all went to a restaurant to have our tea. Soooo good! They have Christmas Chips! I can't begin to explain the flavour. Gooorgeous! So after enjoying some hot chocolate and mince pies for dessert we all headed back to the TARDIS. Me and the Doctor left the three kids to play in the console room. They were looking all innocent, oohing and awing over their purchases and plotting where they would hang everything when they got to the mansion. Basically, they seemed content, so we headed down to the family room to watch some Scrooge. Biggest mistake ever… but we wouldn't know that until this afternoon.

In retrospect, we should have known. The three of them were being awfully quiet for children who were "playing", but we were just so happy to have a quiet evening to snuggle together, we didn't want to jinx it. When the movie was over, I went to get them ready for bed. They had already tidied up the garland and candy canes, and Wilf was nodding off, hugging his new stuffie reindeer. I got them all into a bath to wash the glitter off them, then into their new Christmas jimjams and straight to bed. Nothing seemed amiss. Same this morning when I made banana pancakes in Christmas shapes for breakfast, although there was rather a little too much chatter about them getting to see Father Christmas (you!) hiding pressies under the tree this year.

We decided to spend a little longer on Yultidia. They all wanted me to go tubing with them! So much bloody fun! Then we had lunch and bought a pile of Christmas goodies for Mum, Dad, and Tony, and gifts for Hope's teachers and the folks at Torchwood. They'd get them a little late, but that's okay. I know you're thinking "time machine", Santa, but remember, me and the Doctor agreed not to cheat with the timelines, and anyway, those sweets are worth the wait.

We all bundled back into the TARDIS, and got ready to go: the kids were all buckled in and squirming, so excited to show Gran the garland. The Doctor did his usual dance around the console switching switches and pushing buttons, and I followed behind, making sure everything was set just right, then both of us once again. I know it sounds tedious, but these days… safety first!

Then, the Doctor's running his hands through his hair and telling me "Something doesn't feel quite right. Something's off. I just can't put my finger on it." And as he's fishing for his sonic, I can't help but see our three little angels giving each other guilty looks and biting their little lower lips. And all I can think is "Oh, bloody hell…"

Next thing I hear is the buzz of the sonic, then a violent rumbling coming from the candy cane box under the console, and I'm throwing myself between it and the children as fast as I can. Flames come shooting out of the box, and the Doctor's just standing there gawping and saying "What?" over and over. I mean, at this point, Doctor, does it matter?

Suddenly the whole thing explodes, bits of melted and burning candy cane go soaring around the console room, sticking to everything. And believe me, hot candy cane burns are not to be taken lightly. The stuff was everywhere, in our hair, on our clothes (the kids had managed to come out of it with only a little stickiness, thank goodness.) But, worst of all, some of the molten sweet had seeped into the TARDIS controls.

The Doctor lost it. Completely lost it. I could see he was scared shitless. Things could have been so much worse, and he was over-reacting as a result. Like I said earlier, he put the kids in solitary time-out rooms. They were blubbering and apologizing and begging. At least Hope and Charlie were. Poor Wilfred, was just sobbing and sucking his thumb, really frightened and not quite realizing why his Daddy was so angry.

After the kids were settled, the Doctor gingerly ran his sonic over the TARDIS console and deemed it would be hours before she'd be ready to fly again. She just grumbled and dimmed her lights. I wonder if she would enjoy a nice spa treatment…?

Anyway, the Doctor just went down to interrogate the little hooligans, so I'm taking the time to record my letter to you now.

Holy crap! Hang on just a minute, Santa! Now, that plonker is crowing away to the kids about how brilliant they are. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he is! And they're all laughing and talking some bloody technobabble language I swear they all made up. I'll make them laugh, all right! I'll be right back. Looks like Mummy Scrooge is going to have to step in after all.

-ooOoo-

I'm back! Honestly, that man is such a pushover! If I hadn't stepped in… The brood may be little but they're definitely smart enough to learn that they have to be held accountable for their actions. I saw their faces when Daddy thought there was something wrong, and they knew it was probably their doing. So accountability! No matter how clever their little invention was!

So, right now, they're giving the TARDIS her "day at the spa". They damaged her, and they can fix her up again. They're polishing and buffing her, and the Doctor is helping them take apart the damaged bits and they're all putting them back together. The Doctor's even letting Hope use his sonic for the really stuck-on candy, and the TARDIS is humming in appreciation. My lovely, baby TARDIS. She's such an important part of our family and it doesn't hurt for us to remember that once in a while.

In case you're wondering, it turns out the little inventors were devising a surveillance system to watch for you coming down the chimney. They had rigged each and every candy cane with miniature cameras they found in one of their father's storage cabinets. (To answer the burning question that must be on your mind: no, I don't know why he had them. I think it must have been from when Hope was small and he wanted to be able to keep an eye on her everywhere she went.) Anyway, long story short, they rigged them up incorrectly (they were a bit dodgy to begin with, mind) using some wiring they had pinched from under the TARDIS console that was completely incompatible. So, when the Doctor activated his sonic, he ended up reversing the polarity of the neutron flow (or some rubbish like that) and BLAM! Candy cane fireworks!

All I can say, is thank goodness we found out about it before we got to Mum and Dad's. Can you just imagine Mum's reaction to having peppermint-scented goo all over her living room? Blimey, what a nightmare that would have been!

Well, it's time for everyone to get bathed and dressed again (right into their jimjams, I'm thinking.) Then off to the mansion to put up some rather naff garland (minus the candy canes!), hang some stockings, and as it's been a very long day, a quick tea and off to bed.

Happy Christmas! Love to all, Santa. And here's hoping you don't encounter any exploding candy canes on your travels tonight!

love, Rose