[ O8 / ? ] prompt: biodamper ring

tried to break the line of angst with something a little more silly again. not that good at silly, but hey, adds to the wordcount. CB
I've also realized that even though Donna is my favourite character, I keep vocalising through the Doctor somehow. orz ; haven't written a single story from her pov yet ... so, who knows, will probably show up soon. or at some point at least. »» ;


EARLY JINGLE BELLS
[ tenth / donna ]


Something he's always been the most terribly awful at, is giving people presents. It's not so much the giving and it's not even the money, but the thing he's most terribly awful at, is random sentiment. In the midst of his exhilaration it is easy calling someone brilliant, yet even though they still all while not being chased by half potatoes in armored suits, it's somehow so much harder to say – especially without being sappy.

So he makes excuses. He does buy her presents – who doesn't buy their friend a little trinket when she's on a planet she hasn't even heard ever of before? – but he doesn't call them such. It's the same as with the biodamper, except that obviously served a purpose other than just looking pretty.

And so, to make things easier, he simple makes uppurpose.

By now she has a ring or two that hides her scent from Daleks, a set of earrings that will beep should she ever have a close encounter with the terribly itchy – legged Kofakka ( which look distinctly like a flock a fruitflies, he says, but actually aren't ), an Ood – flute ( which is actually a hairpin he tells her she'll one day figure out how to play ), special alien lifeform thought synchronizing tea, a pretty flower or plant or pebble or two ( which he ends up calling magical since she the first time he shows her, all delighted by the natural beauty, she just scrunches up her nose and asks what does it do ), , and, his personal favourite, the very special outerspace ' ginger- i - fier ' , because, his words, you can never be too ginger!
It's actually a embroidered blue draped robe that really doesn't do anything except for being clothing, but he is of the personal opinion that orange against blue does indeed look further ginger.
It's why he has a blue suit, too. Maybe it also makes hishair a little ginger.

He's never sure just what she thinks of his explanations, though. She generally laughs, and looks delighted ( because, of course, she's getting yet another gift! ) but sometimes when she clips her new pair of Venus cherry radars onto her earlobes ( everyone needs those, he claims, as Venus cherries tastes the best ), he seems some gleam of knowing, and he's not sure if he likes that. People poking through your plot has never been desirable, especially not when he tries to spare himself from any ensuing embarrassment.
Just imaging things, he assures himself whenever she does it again. It's like she knows anything about alien presents or outerwear.

And then it's almost Christmas.
He's out in space so he kind of forgets since Christmases are human anyway, and he's just tinkering with some controls when he suddenly feels a soft slap on his head. He gives an ' ow! ' for no real reason and then turns around while hunching, staring up offended. " What was that for?! "
Any irritation due to broken concentration fades into a dumbfound stare when it turns out that she slapped him a little packaged – " What is that? "
Well, yes: little packaged what exactly?
She rolls her eyes, but she's still smiling, and holds it out when he gets up. " Present, dumbo. You might not celebrate on Mars, but since you're usually out saving the Earth instead of caroling with us, thought I'd do it now before we get too caught up to do so on the day itself, you see? "
" Present? " It's not even a rhetorical question – he just need some words to accompany his tilted hanging jaw and confounded stare as he takes the package off her hands. " For me? "
" No, it's for your spaceship. What do you think? "
He gives a little ' ehhh ' and then decides not to continue answering. He opts for peeling at the wrapping inside, which is horribly cheery reindeers with fat and literally ball – shaped Santas.
It's cute to some, he supposes.
Soft as it is, it nearly slips out his hands when he's unwrapped it. When he holds it up, it unfolds further, to reveal a very long, knit rectangular.
Frowning, he rubs it to his face. " Feels like … angora … and … " He holds it off with the same astounded scowl. " Cashmere? "
Donna's eyes make another circle in their sockets, and she takes it off his hands, folding it double and then neatly tying it around his neck. " That's not where it goes, genius. For some brilliant Doctor you got an awful lot of no clue where stuff's to go sometimes? "
" I knew that! " He protests. " That's where scarves go! " There he throws himself off. " … It's a scarf, right? "
He completely loses any train of thought when she shakes her head, smirking. " … What is it, then? "
She almost grins, tugs at her skillful knot again, and then leans in a bit, still holding on. " It's a human – made Warmth Amplicator. Keeps you from going cold during Christmases and such. "
She leaves him like that, satisfied and saying she'll go get dressed for winter, and he's just at a loss for words and at a gain for red in his face.