A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! And my gift for you is another chapter :)
I stayed up till 2AM Christmas Eve writing this one so it may be complete nonsense but I had a lot of fun, hope you all enjoy it and have brilliant years ahead xxx
"Doctor, I hope you realise this is the last chimney I am pulling you out of!"
The Master grunted with effort and gave another heave on the Doctor's legs, which were sticking like two awkward pinstriped poles out of a narrow chimney stack.
The Doctor's muffled voice from within the brickwork said something which sounded like, "You know it's not!".
The Master let go and took a few steps back along the roof ridge, panting. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, and behind him the TARDIS wheezed in annoyance - it had been parked at an extremely steep angle on the rooftop, and was using up quite a lot of power to keep itself anchored there.
He had now been trying to pull the other Time Lord free for ten minutes, but the Doctor - despite the fact he had apparently only eaten four mince pies for breakfast that morning was most definitely not putting on any weight at all thank you very much - was stuck fast in the chimney.
"This is all your own fault!" the Master shouted at him. "I told you not to go diving into humans' houses with presents on Christmas Eve! Don't they already have somebody who does that?"
"Sometimes he misses a few!" called back the Doctor, still stifled by the chimney. He coughed. "It's really dusty in here. They should really get it cleaned more regularly. I can almost reach the floor though - I think you need to go inside and pull me out from the bottom end!"
The Master raised his eyebrows incredulously even though the Doctor couldn't see him.
"You want me to break into a private property?"
The Doctor groaned. "I am about to choke myself to regeneration, so yes, if your mighty criminal mind can stoop itself to picking a simple door lock!"
He received no reply, as the Master was already gone from the rooftop.
The small woodland cottage was dark, but the hallway was softly aglow with fairy lights. The Master let himself stealthily through into the tiny living room, where a christmas tree towered over a meagre pile of wrapped gifts, and small grunting noises echoed from the chimney breast above an empty fire grate.
Cat-footed, he crossed the tatty persian rug and was just about to crane his neck into the fireplace when a voice said,
"Santa?"
The Master whipped round, startled. The voice belonged to a small girl silhouetted in the doorway, dressed in star-patterned pyjamas which glowed in the dark.
"What?" the Master blinked.
"Are you Santa Claus?" asked the girl.
"Err…" the Master scratched his head. "No. Why would I be Santa Claus?"
"Because it's Christmas Eve and you're standing in my living room."
"Right." the Master nodded. "You do make a very good point there. Good reasoning skills."
"So who are you?" the girl looked slightly apprehensive now. She had long brown hair and a pillow-bruised face. "Do I need to call the police?"
"No - well, if you like. But it won't end well for them." the Master grinned, flashing white teeth in the dark. "I'm Santa's evil and more handsome twin, Satan."
"Oi!" there came a shout from the chimney, and they both jumped. "Are you getting me out of here or not?"
"Who's that?" asked the girl, stepping further into the room as the Master turned and manoeuvred himself into the fireplace.
"I thought you had good reasoning skills." said the Master with disappointment, reaching up for an arm to pull. "That is clearly Santa Claus. He's just a little stuck in your chimney because he ate too many mince pies!"
This last remark was shouted up the chimney. There was a cough, followed by several grunts as the Doctor was pulled down.
Suddenly he passed through the narrow part of the chimney and landed with a flump on top of the Master. The two Time Lords sprawled in the fireplace, covered in ash and soot.
The Doctor was the first up, springing to his feet like a jack-in-the-box and presenting the now thoroughly confused pyjama girl with a large gift wrapped in shiny blue paper.
"Merry Christmas, Yasha Lytkin! I hope you like chocolate!"
The girl frowned. "I'm allergic to chocolate."
The Doctor's smile dropped. He dug a scroll out of his jacket pocket and unfurled it, studying it intently. The Master, meanwhile, was getting up and dusting himself off, muttering about 'ludicrous generosity'.
"Ah! Right, yes sorry!" the Doctor had re-rolled the list. "My mistake. They don't put allergies on the list, you see. Really something they should look into."
"Are you sure you're Santa Claus?" asked Yasha. "You don't look old and beardy like him."
The Doctor grinned as if they were sharing a joke. "I am actually very old and beardy, just on the inside."
"You have a beard growing inside your face?"
"Not literally…"
The Master coughed loudly.
"Right then, Santa, shouldn't we be off now?"
The Doctor jumped to his senses. "Yes! Yes, you're right. We've got another six houses to do."
"What about my present?" Yasha now looked extremely disappointed, and the Master couldn't help feeling slightly sorry for her. Last week the Doctor had confiscated his new Laser Drill, so he empathised.
The Doctor gave an embarrassed cough. "Well, the thing is, I only brought one down the chimney, and I don't think I can fit back up again…"
"Oh, OK… no problem." Yasha glanced sadly over at the few small gifts scattered around the christmas tree.
"Hang on," said the Master, fishing around in his pockets. "I've got something for you!"
The Doctor looked incredulous as the Master produced a small, red glowing object from his pocket and then let it swing on its thin chain, like a pendulum.
"This is a Darillium Crystal. Hang it in your window and the wind will make it sing for you."
Yasha gazed at the crystal, eyes wide with wonder. She held out a hand and the Master passed it over, then stepped politely back to stand next to the Doctor, who was still staring at him in disbelief.
"Thank you!" Yasha Lytkin's eyes were brimming with happiness as she clutched the crystal. "Nobody's ever given me anything so nice before!"
"Yeah, well we'd better watch out, when he starts being nice there's usually an ulterior motive…" the Doctor looked suspiciously at his companion, although a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
After the two Time Lords had bid goodnight to young Yasha Lytkin (and made her promise not to tell anybody that Satan had visited and given her a magic crystal), they returned to a very grumpy TARDIS, which proceeded to pitch the interior gravity slightly sideways for the rest of the evening as punishment for the Doctor's awkward parking spot.
The Doctor decided to "Call it a night and leave the others to Jeff", and disappeared to the kitchen to make some mulled wine. He returned to the console room with a dark red stain on his favourite tie and a tirade of complaints about trying to balance a saucepan on an uneven stovetop.
The Master simply rolled his eyes and ambled around the console, carefully navigating the sloped floor.
"That was a very nice gesture, by the way," said the Doctor slyly, removing his tie and feeding it through a slot on the console which he hoped eventually led to the washing machine. "Giving the little girl a present."
"Well all little girls deserve presents," said the Master matter-of-factly. "In fact, wouldn't you say everyone deserves presents on Christmas, Doctor?"
His tone was now sweetly innocent, and the Doctor sighed.
"I'm not going to give you back your Laser Drill, if that's what you mean."
The Master pouted, fixing him with pleading eyes which were surprisingly difficult to ignore. "Even for Christmas?"
"We're in a time machine!" pointed out the Doctor, heading around the console and pressing a few buttons. "Is it technically still Christmas now?"
The Master huffed. He folded his arms and sat down on the sloping floor with his back to the console, bracing his feet up against the pilot's seat.
"I see, so when you want to go wearing stupid hats and eating mince pies and gallivanting down chimneys it's Christmas, but when I want to build a super-powered and possibly lethal rotary tool, Christmas is irrelevant?"
The Doctor paused for thought. "I mean, one of those things sounds extremely Christmassy, and the other one… doesn't."
He grinned, climbing up onto the pilot's chair as the Master prepared to go into one of his sulks.
"How about we find a winter planet and build a snowman?"
"Go away, Doctor."
The Doctor shrugged, relaxing into a comfortable napping position. "Alright, Elsa."
"What?"
"Nothing."
A few hours later saw the TARDIS drifting peacefully through the universe, both her occupants having fallen fast asleep.
The Doctor had eventually tumbled off the pilot's seat and rolled over to sprawl next to the Master, who was curled up under the console like a cat. Soft light pulsed from the time rotor as the engines slowed into their nightly rhythm, and the two Time Lords slept on through Christmas night, which somehow seemed to transcend the barriers of time travel, and just simply was, no matter where in the universe you were.
A/N: Darillium is our reference of the chapter, the planet where the Doctor took River Song to see the Singing Towers - according to the TARDIS wiki the music comes from a system of caves with a crystal layer, so in a wibbly-wobbly way it felt like this made sense :)