It's already the Fifth Day of Christmas…one more day and we'll be halfway through the Christmas season…
I love this time of year, but I'd be even more happy if the weather was a bit colder…*sighs*. Ah, well. You can't get everything.
*continues looking at desserts and hot dog recipes on Pinterest*
God bless and have a Merry Christmas!
ThePro-LifeCatholic
Disclaimer: That's right, folks. I don't own Doctor Who, and I don't own Christmas, either. I don't own anything on this site. We-e-ell, unless you count my story ideas. Those are mine, I guess. MINE.
*hisses like Gollum*
ErinKenobi2893: Thank you, m'dear! And it's great to see you around and active (somewhat) on fanfiction. I felt the need to post something that was oriented towards the true purpose of Christmas…
And an ornament with Ten kneeling in front of the manger would be completely Fantastic and Brilliant and Cool and all that jazz. ;)
Writing Prompt: 5th Day of Christmas
Characters: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, random U.N.I.T. agents
Shippings: None
Genre: Friendship/Humor/Christmas-y
Rating: K
On the Fifth Day of Christmas
The Doctor let me see:
SURPRISE SNOW FIGHTS!
Carols from the Past;
Mugs of Hot Chocolate,
A new red bike;
And a small Babe asleep in the hay.
"Thanks for coming, Doctor," Dr. Jones said as she tramped through the snow in black boots. She was bedecked in full U.N.I.T. uniform; the snug black suit keeping her nice and warm despite the freezing temperatures outdoors. The man whom she addressed trailed along behind her in a suit and trenchcoat. It didn't seem the appropriate outfit for such weather, with the only winter protection seeming to come from a long, colorful scarf that dangled down to his trainers.
"Oh," he stated, casting a look behind him to admire his footprints in the white snow, "I always come when you call, Martha Jones."
Martha grinned, feeling a rush of warmth at his friendly words. The Doctor hopped forward a bit, grinning brightly whenever the snow crunched beneath his feet. Then he fell into step with the U.N.I.T. doctor, his expression suddenly business-like.
"So what, exactly, are you dealing with that needed my help?" he asked in a low voice. Martha bowed her head down, as if wary that she would be seen talking to this man.
"That's just it," she began. "We really don't know what we're dealing with. My team and I came here to investigate a strange structure completely sculpted out of snow. It appeared mysteriously overnight, but we only discovered it just after dawn. We don't know if there's anyone or anything burrowed inside it."
The Doctor furrowed his brows together, processing the meager information that Ms. Jones had just supplied him with. "We-e-ell, now," he started. Then he stopped abruptly, interrupted by his own thoughts. "Wait a second, 'team'? You said you had a team. Where are they?"
"Oh, well, you never seem comfortable when there's a bunch of soldiers with guns about, so I sent them off," Martha explained. The Doctor sighed loudly and looped the scarf around his neck several times.
"Martha, it might be true that I'm not fond of people with guns, and I'm not fond of members of U.N.I.T. But that doesn't mean that I won't accept their help if they're willing not to be stupid about the matter."
Martha shrugged and smiled. Pushing flyaways from her face, she pointed towards the far end of the empty park. "Over there. See it?"
The Doctor followed Martha's finger, and soon made out the chunk of snow. It had been piled up, with a smooth, steep slope in the front. Whatever lay behind it wasn't making any sort of movement, even as the two figures came closer to investigate.
"You're sure this is alien in origin?" the Doctor questioned, pulling out his sonic. Dr. Jones shrugged again.
"Like I said, we really didn't do that much investigating. Figured we'd leave that up to the genius." She shoved him playfully in the arm and winked. The Doctor shook his head, but smiled all the same. Then he stepped forward, his hand nearly brushing the sparkling snow wall. Pointing his screwdriver at it, be began to move him arm back and forth slowly.
The Time Lord was so focused on his scan that he didn't notice Martha suddenly crouch down. Nor did he see her begin to shovel snow into a small mound, and mold it carefully with her hands.
"Hey, Doctor!" she called. The Doctor wheeled around at the mention of his name, prepared for danger. Just as he turned, Martha straightened up, flinging the ball of snow she had made at her friend. Her aim was better than even she had expected; the ball smacked the Doctor directly in the face. He staggered backwards, blowing at the snow and trying to wipe the flakes out of his eyes.
As soon as his back hit the snow bank, several heads popped over the side. With loud laughs, the other U.N.I.T. team-members emerged from their hiding-place, sending down a hail of snowballs on the Doctor's skinny form. The alien sat for a moment, stunned motionless by the snowy onslaught. Then he scrambled to his feet, dashing to a tree several feet away. A trail of snowballs followed him, accompanied by triumphant whoops and jeers from the soldiers.
Skidding to a slippery halt, the Doctor ducked behind his cover. After giving himself a moment to calm down and recover from initial shock, he braved a look beyond the safety of the tree trunk. As soon as he showed his face, more snowballs came hurtling at him. The Doctor bent down, hurriedly beginning a collection of dusty white spheres. When he had completed about half a dozen of them, he gathered them up in his arms and rushed into the open. Several agents had joined Martha outside the fort; the Doctor flung several snowballs at them.
Laughter turned to shrieks as the U.N.I.T. soldiers scuttled for cover. A few of them, mindful of their extensive training, returned fire as the Doctor slid behind a cluster of bushes.
His breath was coming hot and fast; the chill in the air completely forgotten now. The Doctor struggled out of his coat and scarf, draping them over the branch of a nearby pine tree. Then he gathered up more ammunition and raced back out into the crisp air and cold sunlight.
For about an hour the fight continued; the ending being marked only when the majority of contestants were too tired to make one more snowball. Everyone was soaked to some degree. The U.N.I.T. suits, as protective as they were, apparently hadn't been tested for extreme snowball resistance.
Martha congratulated the members of her own team (many of whom had turned rogue and had thrown ammunition at her). Then her gaze landed on the Doctor. The Time Lord, for once, was acting as young as he looked. He was sitting on the snowy ground – too wet to care about the condition of his clothing – with his trenchcoat spread out like a blanket under him. He was taking handfuls of snow and flinging them at whoever passed within shot. But what Martha really noticed as she looked at him were his eyes.
The brown irises were shining with a giddy light, and the smile that lit up his whole face was a real one. His cheeks were flushed, and the tip of his nose was bright red. Locks of brown hair drooped like wilted flowers, despite his failed attempts to straighten them again. Standing up and brushing himself off, he bounced into the snow, hopping around and beginning to form patterns with his trail of footprints.
Shuddering against a sudden blast of biting wind, Martha was reminded of how cold she was, and how cold her other team-mates must be. Gathering up her things, she motioned for the other U.N.I.T. members to fall in-step behind her.
"Come on, Doctor!" she called. "We're going to get hot chocolate now!"
The man turned, waved, and rushed over while pulling on his trenchcoat and nearly tripping over his scarf.
"Where are we going?" he gasped when he caught up. He practically danced around Martha, hopping from foot to foot with seemingly uncontrollable, inexhaustible energy. It was all Martha could do to keep herself from bursting into laughter at the sight of him.
"We're heading back to U.N.I.T. base," she said. "Don't worry; I'm pretty sure they'll let you in."
"Do I need a pass?" the Doctor asked, plunging his hands into his coat pockets. After a few seconds of rummaging around, he finally produced a faded and worn slip of laminated paper, which he handed to Martha. She examined the ID card carefully.
"It's real, all right," she confirmed, giving it back to her friend. "But it's pretty old, and the photo needs updating. How about we get you a new one when we get there?"
The Doctor grimaced at the thought. "But that means sitting still for a picture!" he whined. Then he stooped towards Martha, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "Why'd you do this?" he whispered.
Martha smiled gently and flicked at the wet strands of brown hair. "Because," she answered. "I thought you could you some cheering up this year."
The Doctor stared at her for a moment, with an expression that she couldn't decipher. Then he broke into a huge smile and he draped an arm across her shoulders.
"Thank you," he said, pulling her into a hug. And despite being soaked to the bone, freezing cold, and nipped at by the wind, Martha felt a surge of warmth that flooded her whole body.
"No problem, Doctor," she responded, returning the gesture.
Some Martha and Doctor fluff! Yay, me!
I don't think I've written Martha extensively, either. This is certainly the first time writing her as a member of U.N.I.T., anyhoo. I think I did fairly well.
See you tomorrow for the next prompt!