They'd decided to have Christmas in one of her favourite rooms in the TARDIS, a relic of a previous regeneration when he'd had a bit of a penchant for antique wooden furniture, deep carpets and large, ornate fireplaces. He preferred things more functional in his current incarnation, and, it had to be said, less human, but Rose liked it. Even he was forced to admit, though, that it looked rather festive with the huge tree successfully installed.
He was admiring his handiwork when Rose touched his shoulder lightly. "You sure you're okay with this, Doctor? It's not too domestic for you?"
Her tone was light but he suspected her query was serious.
"Whatever makes you happy, Rose," he answered without thinking, and she blinked in surprise. He cleared his throat, awkward for a moment, and hastily attempted to cover his tracks. "It's no fun if you're moping around the place," he added with a casual shrug.
She gave him a look that suggested that she had seen through him. "Right," she said, "Decorations."
He thought for a moment. "I haven't got any."
"Oh."
His grin returned. "But I know a place where we can get some. To the wardrobe, Rose! Think turn of the century, Victorian England."
She rejoined him in the control room breathless, cloaked and corseted in a mere ten minutes. He held out his arm to her. "Shall we go?"
The TARDIS has materialised in an alley. Strolling casually into the street, Rose gasped.
The frost fair was in full swing, tradesmen shouting to be heard over the din. Christmas tree decorations, the like of which she had never seen before, sparkled on the nearest store. They put the plastic baubles she had lovingly placed on her pathetic artificial tree every year with her mum to shame. Glass and metal reflected the bright, winter's sunshine, matching the frost which glittered underfoot. She was about to take a step forward, but the Doctor's hold on her arm made her stop.
She turned to him and he handed her a wad of bank-notes. "You can buy everything on his stall with that," he told her. "Don't spend it all at once. And stay out of trouble!"
"You not shopping with me?" she asked.
He grimaced. "Not my thing Rose. Besides, I can't get you a present if you're with me."
"You don't 'ave to get me anything. This has been more than–"
"Shut up and go enjoy yourself."
She sighed with happiness, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and positively skipped out into the marketplace.
Unthinkingly his fingers reached up to touch his cheek where her lips had brushed his skin. He was sure her gesture of thanks had been unconscious, unconsidered. It didn't mean anything.
But, all the same, there was a spring in his step as he headed in the opposite direction to his young companion, and a smile on his face that was rather different to the manic one he so often wore.
When he returned to the TARDIS Rose had already changed back into her twenty-first century clothes and completely decorated the tree, correctly assuming that placing baubles and trinkets was not his thing.
There were paper streamers stretching from the corners of the room and a garland strung across the mantlepiece. The tree glittered in the light of a low fire and several lit candles. Rose had chosen a red and silver colour scheme, the delicate decorations made from real glass held in place with ribbons, neatly tied.
She was fiddling with something on one of the lower branches, but felt his presence rather than heard him and turned.
"What do you think?" she asked, face a picture of concern.
"Fantastic!" he enthused, meaning it in spite of his normal disdain for all things domestic. Aesthetically, his tastes might be different to his companion's, but he could appreciate how well her chosen decorations fitted with the architecture and furnishings of the room, and the effort that had gone into their arrangement.
She smiled and shrugged her shoulders, hands sliding into her pockets. "What now?"
"What do you normally do now?"
She sighed. "Sit around and watch Christmas Eve television," she said. "I was 'oping you might have a better idea."
He hesitated. "Yeah, actually. I have. I think it's time I cooked you a proper meal. Something that tastes better for less calories than chips."
"A proper dinner for two?" she asked, her tone almost mocking.
He nodded. "Yeah. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Two companions, friends if you will, eating a nice meal together."
"Nothing wrong with it at all," she replied, but there was a slight misgiving in her eyes.
"And I'll even wear something a bit smarter than my leather jacket," he said, determined to seal the deal.
"Wow. I feel honoured."
"Here. An hour's time."
"Fant–"she began, and caught herself. "I think you're rubbing off on me," she said with a grin.
