One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told
Eight for a wish
Eight for Heaven
{Alternate Verse}
The Doctor ran a hand lovingly across the console of the TARDIS. All of time and space at his fingertips and his splendid ship at his command - now, all that remained was to determine where he would go next. He could go visit Puccini again - and that brought a pang of regret - it would have been so lovely to make that particular trip with Grace. Or he could go for a walk through the gardens at Giverny, or travel to St. Petersburg to see Mathilde Kschessinskaya dance.
Or, his frankly magnificent time ship could decide to land in a not-so-savory section of South London. He frowned, twiddling various switches and dials, but the ship refused to move. "All right, Old Girl…December 1999...didn't we just go through all that?" He double checked the date. "Oh, Christmas! What are you playing at?" The TARDIS chirped softly at him, and he shrugged, straightening his coat.
"As good a place as any to begin, I suppose," he muttered, stepping out into a dingy alley. He rolled his eyes reproachfully at his ship. "You couldn't have picked someplace a bit cleaner?" The TARDIS hummed insistently inside his mind and he sighed, looking about.
The Doctor walked gingerly down the alley, mindful of the puddles and refuse. His sharp ears picked up a quiet sound, and he glanced around, trying to find the source. There - huddled on a box next to a filthy dumpster was a little girl, no more than twelve, he guessed, crying dreadfully. That wouldn't do, not at all. He knelt down in front of her, trying very hard not to think about what was soaking through the knees of his trousers.
"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"
The girl gasped, looking up at him through warm brown eyes that were wide with fear. She shoved a lock of light brown hair out of her face and sniveled ungracefully, shying away violently when the Doctor reached into his pocket.
He extended his silk handkerchief towards her, gently as if she was a wild creature that he didn't want to startle. "It's all right. I won't hurt you. Won't you tell me what happened?"
She stared into his eyes for a long, long moment, then reached out to take the handkerchief and mop her face. "Some big blokes took my bike," she whispered.
"Did they hurt you?" he demanded, noting a rip in the knee of her jeans, and some scrapes on her palms.
"Not really…just pushed me into the pavement is all." Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. "Don't know why they even bothered. It was just from a consignment shop. Was all Mum could afford…"
The Doctor clenched his jaw to reign in a mounting fury. This new incarnation seemed quite peaceful and genteel on the surface, but abuse of the weak and helpless was one thing he simply could not abide. To hurt and rob such a darling little girl - and so close to Christmas! It was well for the culprits that they were long gone. Rising, he held out his hand to the girl.
"Come along, my dear. Let's find a policeman to get you sorted. I'm sure your mum must be worried about you."
She eyed him warily, and he smiled, as reassuringly as possible. Finally, she reached out and set her small hand trustingly in his. The Doctor led her from the alley, back out into the bustle of holiday shoppers. He spied a police officer perched on the hood of his patrol car, idly scanning the crowds and traffic while he sipped a Styrofoam cup of tea.
"Constable, my young friend here has had her bicycle stolen, D'you suppose you might do something about that?"
The Doctor melted back into the crowd as the officer took charge of the situation. Humans of this era were so nastily suspicious, he didn't fancy deflecting the sort of questions that might arise from the idea of him finding the girl alone in an alley. Her voice floated back to him over the noise of the crowd. 'I live on the Powell Estate.'
Heading back to the TARDIS, he spied a shiny, brand new, red bike in a store window. Just the sort of thing a twelve year old girl would adore. He smiled broadly, imagining her joy at finding that under the tree on Christmas morning. Well, why not? Christmas was the time of miracles, after all.
Nine for a kiss
Ten for a time of joyous bliss
Author's notes: If you've read my collection of Rose/TenToo shorts entitled Things I Recall, you'll recognize this as chapter two, this time, told from the Doctor's POV. Takes place right after the events of the 1996 movie.