Timepetalsprompts holiday fic bingo: carols
I forgot to credit my four amazing betas last week: UnabashedBird, Rudennotgingr, ascballerina, and veritascara. You make this story great-thank you!
When Rose opened her eyes the next morning, the Doctor was spooning her. She could tell it had been ten hours since they'd gone to bed, and the realisation that he'd stayed the whole night, even though she'd been out for much longer than they normally slept, warmed her.
"Good morning," his voice rumbled in her ear. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Rose turned around in his arms and kissed him lightly. "Eggs and soldiers?" she suggested. It was another comfort food, one that spoke of childhood breakfasts and lazy Sunday mornings in the flat with her mum.
"Come help me make them?" the Doctor asked.
Rose heard what he didn't say—he didn't want to leave her alone, not yet. She sat up in bed and pushed her hair out of her face, hazy memories of the night before coming to her as she woke up.
One thing stood out. "How is it that I didn't have any nightmares last night?"
The Doctor had been getting dressed, and he paused with one leg in his trousers. "I kept them away," he told her, and continued getting dressed.
"How'd you do that?"
He shrugged. "Just paid attention when I could tell you were in REM sleep and projected comfort over the bond if you became distressed."
Rose nodded slowly while she wrapped her dressing gown around her waist. "Is that something you could teach me to do?" she asked. The Doctor's nightmares were less frequent than they had been when she'd met him, but they still came from time to time.
He blinked, and his surprise tugged at her heart. "I think so. You're quick to pick up on new telepathic techniques, and our bond makes this one fairly simple." He tied his tie and pulled his jacket on. "But first, let's eat breakfast."
oOoOoOoOo
After breakfast, the Doctor did some work on the TARDIS while Rose went back to their room to shower and dress. He circled the console, absently adjusting controls and wiping dust from the dials, but his mind was with Rose. She seemed to be doing better after her crying jag the night before, but he knew better than to think that was it, that she would never miss her mum again.
He wasn't quite sure how to help her through the last of her grief. His instinct when he was upset was always to run headlong into the next adventure. He knew that wasn't necessarily the best choice though, and he didn't know if Rose would feel the same way.
Help me out here, he asked the TARDIS. The ship hummed noncommittally, and the Doctor groaned and raked his hand through his hair.
A second later, he froze with his hand on the back of his head, staring at the woman who'd just appeared in front of him. "What?" he asked dumbly, unable to process how anyone could have gotten into the TARDIS while she was floating in space.
The white veil covering the ginger woman's hair floated around her waist when she spun around. A small peep of shock escaped her lips when she saw him, but her surprise couldn't begin to match his.
"What?" he asked again.
"Who are you?" She looked him up and down, lips twisted into a snarl. "Where am I?"
A headache built at the base of the Doctor's skull. "What?"
"What the hell is this place?"
Her raised voice at the end of that question finally shook him out of his stupor. "What?" He looked down at the console, wondering if somehow they'd landed and this woman had managed to get into the TARDIS, but no, they were still orbiting the supernova.
"You can't do that. I wasn't… We're in flight!" he said, gesturing to the glowing time rotor. "That is, that is physically impossible! How did—"
She interrupted again. "Tell me where I am. I demand you tell me right now—where am I?"
The Doctor rocked back on his heels. "Inside the TARDIS," he answered, watching closely for any signs of recognition.
She shook her head rapidly. "The what?"
Rose picked up on the twinge of annoyance and his utter bewilderment and pushed a query along their bond. "The TARDIS," he said absently, focusing on answering Rose's question first.
We have an unexpected… Just, come to the console room when you're dressed.
Their visitor tilted her head, as if she thought she must have heard him wrong. "The what?"
"The TARDIS!" the Doctor exclaimed, spinning towards the console.
"The what?" she asked for the third time.
The Doctor took in a breath and blew it out slowly through his nose while running over the controls again. There must be something…
"It's called the TARDIS," he said calmly.
"That's not even a proper word," she shouted. "You're just saying things."
He took a step towards her around the console. "How did you get in here?"
"Well, obviously, when you kidnapped me," she sneered.
The Doctor straightened up and stared at the woman in mute shock as she went on a tear about her supposed abduction.
"Who was it? Who's paying you? Is it Nerys?" She tipped her head back. "Oh my God, she's finally got me back. This has got Nerys written all over it."
The Doctor had been looking the woman up and down during this entire tirade, trying to find something about her that would have brought her to the TARDIS, but there was nothing. He ran his hand through his hair, wishing for once that the adventure could have waited a few days.
The TARDIS chimed, and he remembered what he'd asked her for just before this woman had appeared in the console room. Is this to distract Rose? She hummed a confirmation, and he sighed. Hopefully Rose wanted to be distracted.
"Who the hell is Nerys?" he asked, finally catching up with what she'd been saying.
"Your best friend," she hissed venomously, breathing heavily.
"Hold on… wait a minute." A wedding dress wasn't exactly normal attire. Maybe that had something to do with why she was there? "What are you dressed like that for?"
"I'm going ten pin bowling," she said smoothly, then erupted in a rage. "Why do you think, dumbo? I was halfway up the aisle!"
The Doctor took a few steps back, then spun back to the console, eager to get this abrasive woman off his TARDIS as soon as possible. Whatever the ship had been thinking, he was positive that having this woman in her face wouldn't help Rose.
She was still ranting. "I've been waiting all my life for this. I was just seconds away, and then you, I don't know, you drugged me or something!"
He poked his head around the time rotor at that accusation. "I haven't done anything!" He moved around the console, both to get away from her and to figure out what she'd done, but the ginger bride followed him.
"I'm having the police on you! Me and my husband, as soon as he is my husband, we're going to sue the living backside off you!"
The Doctor tuned out her ranting to study the scanner, trying to make sense of her appearance. Could she… Maybe we…
He looked up when he realised the last 2.5 seconds were the longest she'd been quiet since she'd arrived. She was running toward the door. "No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Don't!" He groaned softly when she ignored him and flung the doors wide open, revealing the newly formed nebula that had taken the place of the supernova.
She recoiled from the sight, and the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and joined her at the doors. "You're in space. Outer space. This is my—" He hesitated for a moment, then apologised to the TARDIS for what he was about to say. "—spaceship. It's called the TARDIS."
"How am I breathing?" she asked, and her voice was actually pleasant when she wasn't yelling.
The nebula flared in fluctuating shades of pink and gold that reminded him of Rose. I'm just getting out of the shower, she told him. I'll be there in five minutes.
"The TARDIS is protecting us," he said in answer to the bride's question.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor," he said, bracing himself for a scathing tirade about how that wasn't a name, but it didn't come. "You?"
"Donna," she told him, her voice faint.
The Doctor looked her up and down, trying to distinguish her species. "Human?" he guessed, based on appearance and the traditional white wedding gown.
"Yeah. Is that optional?" There was only a hint of sarcasm in her words, and the Doctor wondered briefly if it would be possible to keep her in a state of shock until they figured out what she was doing on the TARDIS. She was far more agreeable like this.
"Well, it is for me."
There was a pregnant pause while she looked him up and down. "You're an alien."
"Yeah," he agreed.
She shook her head suddenly. "It's freezing with these doors open."
The Doctor slammed the doors shut and ran back to the console. "I don't understand it, and I understand everything." He turned back to Donna, gesturing wildly in his confusion. "This… This can't happen! There is no way a human being can lock itself onto the TARDIS and transport itself inside."
Even Rose hadn't been transported into the TARDIS, and no one has a closer connection to the ship than she does.
The TARDIS hummed guiltily and he blinked; apparently, their ship had actually been attempting to pull Rose straight to her. But the point stands that this woman, whoever she is, doesn't have anywhere near the connection with you that Rose does.
He reached into the tool belt that still hung from the console where he'd left it after he'd harnessed the supernova, and pulled out an ophthalmoscope. "It must be some sort of subatomic connection?" he rambled as he checked Donna's eyes. "Something in the temporal field? Maybe something pulling you into alignment with the chronon shell." There was nothing in her eyes, so he pulled back, looking her up and down again. "Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix. Maybe a genetic—"
Donna cut him off with a slap across the face.
The Doctor put his hand to his cheek. "What was that for?"
"Get me to the church!" she ordered.
"Right! Fine!" he exclaimed, his patience running out. The TARDIS meant well, but he'd wanted to give Rose a quiet day. If this woman wanted to just be dropped back off where she came from, he could let the mystery go for once. "I don't want you here anyway! Where is this wedding?"
"Saint Mary's, Hayden Road, Chiswick, London, England, Earth, the solar system."
Rose heard the raised voices as soon as she left the bedroom, but she still blinked in surprise when she entered the console room and saw a ginger woman in a bridal gown.
The stranger caught sight of her and an ugly expression crossed her face. "I knew it, acting all innocent. I'm not the first, am I? How many women have you abducted?"
"I live here," Rose replied evenly, trying to make sense of this loud woman standing in her home. The TARDIS hadn't landed, so how had she gotten in?
The Doctor looked up from the console. "Ah, Rose! Good. Rose, Donna. Donna, Rose. Donna just… popped in for a visit, but we need to get her to the church. Obviously, she's got someplace to be. No time to chat."
He threw the lever, and the time rotor churned up and down with a sickly hum. Rose patted the nearby strut soothingly. What's wrong, dear?
The ship didn't answer, and a moment later, they landed with a hard thud. Donna ran to the door and pulled it open, and the Doctor followed her out, looking back inside the ship. The queasy feeling got worse, and Rose walked to the console, checking out some of the readings.
"I said, Saint Mary's," she heard Donna say, and she guessed the TARDIS had made one of her infamous landings. "What sort of Martian are you? Where's this?
The Doctor stroked the side of their ship. "Something's wrong with her. The TARDIS, it's like she's recalibrating!" He ran back inside, leaving their guest outside alone.
Rose rested a hand on the console. "It's like Krop Tor," she called out to him. "Feels like she's got indigestion."
He nodded, a furrow appearing on his forehead. Krop Tor was not an experience either one of them wanted to repeat. "What is it? What have you eaten?" he asked the time ship. "What's wrong?"
Through the half open door, Rose could see Donna's wide eyes when she caught sight of the police box. The Doctor pulled out a stethoscope and started listening to the TARDIS, not noticing that Donna was circling the ship.
"Donna?" the Doctor called out to her. "You've really got to think. Is there anything that might've caused this? Anything you might've done? Any sort of alien contacts? I can't let you go wandering off. What if you're dangerous? I mean, have you, have you seen lights in the sky, or did you touch something like something, something different, something strange?"
Donna stood in the doorway and stared around the console room, then staggered back and looked at the ship in shock.
"Doctor!" Rose interrupted his litany of reasons Donna might have ended up in the TARDIS. He looked at her, wide-eyed, still holding the stethoscope to his ear. "She's wandering off."
The Doctor looked out the door just as Donna turned and started walking off. "Stay here," he told Rose. "See if you can figure out what's wrong with the TARDIS. I'll get Donna to come back."
He jogged out into the courtyard, closing the door behind him. "Donna."
She kept walking, even when he came up alongside her. "Leave me alone. I just want to get married."
"Come back to the TARDIS," he offered.
Donna shook her head vehemently and they continued down the alley toward the busy street. "No way. That box is too… weird."
"It's bigger on the inside, that's all," the Doctor said, trying to make it sound like that wasn't unusual.
"Oh! That's all?" She looked at her wristwatch. "Ten past three. I'm going to miss it."
The genuine distress in her voice sparked some sympathy. "You can phone them. Tell them where you are."
To his surprise, that earned him a sarcastic, "How do I do that?"
"Haven't you got a mobile?" he asked innocently.
She finally stopped walking, but only so she could turn and glare at him. "I'm in my wedding dress. It doesn't have pockets." Her words dripped with derision. "Who has pockets? Have you ever seen a bride with pockets? When I went to my fitting at Chez Alison, the one thing I forgot to say is give me pockets!"
The Doctor nodded a few times, his patience more than spent. "This man you're marrying. What's his name?"
Her expression shifted entirely, a sweetness crossing her face that was completely at odds with what he'd seen of Donna so far. "Lance," she cooed.
"Good luck, Lance."
"Oi!" she shouted, and he had to admit he maybe deserved her ire this time. "No stupid Martian is going to stop me from getting married. To hell with you!" She pivoted and ran away.
"I'm, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not from Mars," the Doctor stammered ineffectually before taking off after Donna.
As he ran, he checked in on the women in his life. The TARDIS still seemed a little worse for wear, but he was more concerned for Rose. There was too much distance between them to communicate, but he couldn't pick up any distress from her.
Maybe she really did need a distraction. The TARDIS hummed smugly, and he rolled his eyes. You aren't always right, you know.
He found Donna on the kerb, trying to flag a taxi. "Taxi!" she hollered, but a cab drove by even though he was looking for a fare. "Why's his light on?" she asked.
The Doctor pointed at another taxi with its For Hire light on. "There's another one!"
They jogged down the street toward the car, holding their arms out to hail it. "Taxi!" Donna shouted, then yelled at them when they kept driving. "Oi!"
A pattern was forming, but the Doctor was determined to see her safely to her wedding, then hopefully back to the TARDIS so they could figure out exactly how she'd been pulled in. He scanned the street and spotted another cab coming toward them. "There's one!"
They jogged up and down the street trying to hail cabs, and once the sixth one had driven past without even slowing down, the Doctor looked at Donna. "Do you have this effect on everyone? Why aren't they stopping?"
"They think I'm in fancy dress."
A cab driver honked as he drove by. "Stay off the sauce, darling!" he shouted, miming drinking.
"They think I'm drunk."
A small blue car drove by, and two men shouted at them out the window. "You're fooling no one, mate!"
"They think I'm in drag!"
The Doctor looked her up and down, finally realising her attire probably was putting off most cabbies. "Hold on, hold on." He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, and immediately a cab did a U turn to pick them up. Donna hitched up her dress and climbed into the cab, and the Doctor slid in beside her.
Donna rattled off directions to the driver as soon as the door was shut. "Saint Mary's in Chiswick, just off Hayden Road. It's an emergency. I'm getting married. Just hurry up!"
The cabbie looked at them in the mirror. "That'll cost you, sweetheart. Double rates today."
"Oh, my God. Have you got any money?"
The Doctor's mind had drifted back to Rose, and it took him a moment to register Donna had asked him a question. "Er, no. Haven't you?"
She huffed, then gestured to her dress. "Pockets!"
"Right then," the cabbie said, jerking the wheel. "No money, no ride."
"But I'm getting married!" Donna protested. "There's a whole church full of people waiting for me. I can pay you when we get there."
The car screeched to a halt. "There you go," the cabbie said, ignoring Donna's promise.
The Doctor exited the car, listening with grudging admiration to the creative curses Donna was raining down on the cabbie's head.
"And that goes double for your mother!" she bellowed as he drove off. "I'll have him," she fumed. "I've got his number. I'll have him. Talk about the Christmas spirit."
"Is it Christmas?" He looked around, noticing the holiday window displays for the first time.
"Well, duh. Maybe not on Mars, but here it's Christmas Eve."
She jerked on the Doctor's sleeve. "Phone box!" She took off down the street, and he followed. "We can reverse the charges!"
"How come you're getting married on Christmas Eve?"
"Can't bear it. I hate Christmas. Honeymoon, Morocco. Sunshine, lovely."
Donna picked up the phone, then looked at it blankly. "What's the operator? I've not done this in years. What do you dial? 100?"
Oh, we don't have time for this. The Doctor pointed the screwdriver at the coin slot so it would allow an outgoing call. "Just call them direct."
"What did you do?" Donna asked suspiciously.
"Something… Martian," he told her impatiently. "Now phone. I'll get money!"
His mind was moving rapidly through the events as he ran to the nearest ATM. Donna's appearance in the TARDIS wasn't a random event, that much was obvious, and despite her abrasive personality and his earlier desire to just be quit of her, the Doctor knew he needed to stick with her until he figured out what was going on.
The man using the cash machine seemed to be taking forever, and he bounced on his toes. Donna didn't seem like the kind to wait around—if she found a way to get to the church, she'd take off without him.
Finally, it was his turn. After glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, the Doctor used the sonic to manipulate the menu on the ATM and request a withdrawal from his own account. As he took the money from the machine, he heard a brass ensemble playing Christmas carols. He glanced over his shoulder and froze for a moment when he saw a trio of Santas—the same Santas he'd seen the Christmas before.
Pilot fish.
He kept his eyes fixed on them as they advanced slowly, but then behind him, a familiar voice shouted, "Taxi!"
The Doctor wheeled around in time to see Donna open the door to a cab that was driven by another Santa. "Thanks for nothing, spaceman!" she yelled at him. "I'll see you in court."
"Donna!"
The cab peeled out, and at the same time the music stopped abruptly. When the Doctor turned back around, the Santas were pointing their instruments at him, and he remembered what Rose had told him about the ones who'd tried to kill her and Mickey with their trombones.
I need a diversion!
The obvious answer presented itself, and he quickly pointed the sonic at the cash machine. Banknotes went flying across the street, and with the shoppers darting around to catch them, he was able to get away from the Santas and go back to the TARDIS.
"Any idea what's wrong with her?" he asked Rose when he burst through the doors.
"None. It's like… she's been overloaded, or overworked or something, but that doesn't make any sense."
He stroked the console. "It doesn't, but I think you're right."
The Doctor quickly set up a protocol for the TARDIS to track Donna's DNA. A fast-moving dot blinked on the display, and he shifted course to intercept it.
"Unfortunately, we're going to have to work her a bit more. Donna's been kidnapped by something wearing a Santa mask—sound familiar?"
"I'm not likely to forget being shot at by a trombone-wielding Santa. How are we going to rescue her?"
"Like this," the Doctor said, hitting a set of controls he rarely used and pounding one with a mallet.
"Percussive maintenance,"Rose teased, and he shot her a quick grin before focusing on the flight plan.
The familiar sound of the TARDIS dematerialising filled the console room, but with a sickly undertone to it.
"What are you doing?" Rose exclaimed.
"Following her." The Doctor pointed to a few controls. "Here. When I say left, move this. When I say right, move that."
He moved back to the monitor and noted with satisfaction that they were on the right path, and gaining. His satisfaction faded when sparks flew out of the console.
He reached for his mallet, but Rose put her hand on his wrist. He felt her concentrate, and a moment later, the ship stabilised a little.
"How did you…" He shook his head, both in awe and a little afraid of the connection between ship and woman. "Tell me later," he muttered. According to the display, they should be almost on top of Donna's cab now. "Take this," he ordered Rose. "That's the throttle. Keep an eye on this dot—" he pointed to the red dot on the screen—"if it looks like it's pulling away, give us a bit more speed."
She nodded, and he ran to the door. It was easy to spot Donna's cab; it was the one weaving wildly in and out of traffic.
"A bit more," he called back to Rose, and they surged forward until they were even with Donna. "That's it! Hold her steady there."
Donna was frantically trying to get out of the cab, and her eyes widened comically when she saw him standing in the doorway to the TARDIS.
"Open the door!" he shouted at her.
Her lips moved, and even though he couldn't hear her, he could tell what she was saying: "Do what?"
The Doctor repeated himself, speaking as clearly as he could so she could hopefully read his lips. "Open the door!"
She pounded on the inside of the door. "I can't, it's locked!"
Of course it is. Holding onto the door frame with one hand, the Doctor pulled his sonic out of his pocket with the other. He directed it at the cab and unlocked both the door and the window.
Instead of opening the door, Donna rolled the window down and stuck her head out. "Santa's a robot."
Yes thanks, I've noticed that. "Donna, open the door."
She scowled at him. "What for?"
"You've got to jump!"
"I'm not blinking flip jumping," she screeched. "I'm supposed to be getting married!"
The cab sped up. "I've got it!" Rose called out, and the TARDIS jolted and wove through traffic until they were alongside the cab again.
The Doctor pointed the sonic at the Robo Santa first, rendering it incapable of doing anything but driving at exactly the speed he was going now. Then he directed his attention to Donna, who was staring at him in horrified amazement.
"Listen to me. You've got to jump."
She set her jaw. "I'm not jumping on a motorway."
"Whatever that thing is, it needs you. And whatever it needs you for, it's not good!" he told her bluntly, seeing the moment the severity of her situation finally sank in. "Now, come on!"
"I'm in my wedding dress!"
"Yes, you look lovely! Come on!" the Doctor commanded, sighing in relief when she finally opened the door.
He held out his arms for her, but when she looked down at the motorway speeding by between them, she shifted back into the car.
"I can't do it."
There was real fear in her eyes under the brazen exterior, and he lowered his voice into a comforting tone. "Trust me."
Donna looked past him, into the TARDIS. "Rose!"
"Yeah?"
"You're really with him because you want to be? You trust him that much?"
The Doctor looked back at her, almost afraid to hear her answer, even though he knew what it would be.
"I trust him enough to marry him!" she shouted back, holding up her left hand, and the Doctor beamed at her before turning back to Donna expectantly.
Donna shook her head. "I reckon you're both nutters," she muttered, then launched herself out of the cab, into the Doctor's waiting arms.
Rose laughed at the Doctor's flustered expression when Donna knocked him to the grating. The two of them looked at each other, then Donna scrambled off of him and they both stood up and dusted themselves off.
The doors slammed shut and the controls in Rose's hands spun without her input. "What's happening?" she asked.
Smoke curled up from underneath the console, and the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "We've pushed her a bit too far. She'll land someplace safe, but then we'll be locked out until she's gotten some rest."
This time, the landing was rough enough to knock them all down. "Where did you learn to fly this thing?" Donna griped.
"Oi!" the Doctor said. "I've been flying her for 900 years, and I haven't met anyone yet who can do it better."
I could give it a go, Rose told him.
He glanced over at her. That's why I said yet.
The smoke filled the console room, and the Doctor grabbed a fire extinguisher. "Out, out, out!" he said, nearly pushing Donna out the door.
Rose grabbed her jacket before following Donna outside onto a rooftop. After she blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the sunlight, she looked around to get her bearings. In the City, she realised, spotting St. Paul's directly in front of her.
"The funny thing is," the Doctor said, and Rose turned around to watch him amble over to the ledge between her and Donna. "For a spaceship, she doesn't really do that much flying. We'd better give her a couple of hours. You all right?" he asked, looking between them.
Rose nodded, but Donna shrugged morosely. "Doesn't matter."
"Did we miss it?" he asked, and Rose rolled her eyes at his cluelessness.
"Yeah," Donna said on a long breath.
He scratched at his cheek. "Well, you can book another date," he offered.
"Course we can."
The Doctor looked helplessly at Rose, and she moved around to Donna's other side. "What I want to know," she said conversationally, "is how you managed to run all over the place and jump out of a moving cab, and your dress is still beautiful!"
Donna looked down at her dress and gave the tiniest smile. "That's something, innit?"
"Yeah, it really is." She took the other woman's hand. "I am sorry about the wedding, though."
Donna sighed. "It's not your fault—either of you."
"Oh?" The Doctor raised his eyebrows and rocked back on his heels. "That's a change."
The wind blew Donna's hair into her face, and she tossed it back over her shoulder. Rose saw a speculative look enter her eyes, and she had a feeling she knew what was coming next.
"Wish you had a time machine. Then we could go back and get it right."
The time travellers exchanged a quick glance, then the Doctor spoke up. "Yeah, yeah. But even if I did, I couldn't go back on someone's personal timeline. Apparently," he added quickly.
Donna pursed her lips and looked him up and down, and Rose waited for her to call the Doctor on his rather obvious lie. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the roof and wrapped her arms around herself. Another gust of wind blew over the rooftop, and Rose shivered in sympathy—she wouldn't want to be wearing a sleeveless dress when it was only seven degrees and blustery.
The Doctor shucked his jacket and placed it around Donna's shoulders before sitting down next to her. She grabbed the lapels, then looked up at him. "God, you're skinny. This wouldn't fit a rat."
Rose sat down next to the Doctor and bumped him with her elbow when he huffed indignantly. I like you skinny, she told him, and grinned when the tips of his ears turned red.
"Oh!" The Doctor reached into his pocket. "And you'd better put this on," he told her, holding up a wedding band.
Rose groaned and slapped her palm against her forehead. And he'd been doing so well, thinking to offer Donna his jacket.
"Oh, do you have to rub it in?" Donna griped.
"Those creatures can trace you," he explained, his voice serious. "This is a bio-damper. Should keep you hidden." She looked at him dubiously, and he handed it to her. "Just… just put it on. I promise, I'm only trying to keep you safe."
Donna sighed and slid the ring onto her empty ring finger. "So, come on then. Robot Santas, what are they for?"
"Ah, your basic robo scavenger," he said, as if those were an everyday occurrence. "The Father Christmas stuff is just a disguise. They're trying to blend in. We met them last Christmas," he said, nodding toward Rose.
Memories of the previous Christmas ran through both their minds, and Rose only listened with half an ear as she thought about everything they'd done then, and how much they'd changed since.
"Why, what happened then?" Donna asked.
They both looked at her. Was she serious? "Great big spaceship… hovering over London?" the Doctor said, and Rose could picture the 'dribbled on your shirt' expression on his face. "You didn't notice?"
"I had a bit of a hangover."
Rose looked over the river, toward Peckham. "We were over there for Christmas Day, with my mum and and a mate. Mum lives—used to live on the Powell Estate." The Doctor laced his fingers through hers, and she squeezed his hand gratefully. "They've moved now though… can't exactly spend this Christmas with them."
The Doctor diverted the conversation before Donna could ask any painful questions. "Question is, what do camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you?" Rose watched as he looked Donna up and down, like she was a puzzle he needed to solve. "And how did you get inside the TARDIS? I don't know. What's your job?" He reached inside his jacket pocket for the sonic.
Donna narrowed her eyes. "I'm a secretary."
Rose watched in amusement as he scanned Donna multiple times, completely ignorant as to her increasing ire. "It's weird. I mean, you're not special, you're not powerful, you're not connected, you're not clever, you're not important."
Rose leaned forward and looked Donna in the eye. "Feel free to slap his hand away, Donna. He gets a little carried away sometimes."
What do you mean?
Doctor, you just told he she's not important.
"I mean you don't have an important role," he back-pedalled. "I'm sure you're important to somebody… What kind of secretary?" the Doctor asked, quickly moving the conversation along.
"I'm at H. C. Clements. It's where I met Lance. I was temping." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "I mean, it was all a bit posh really. I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought I'm never going to fit in here. And then he made me a coffee. I mean, that just doesn't happen. Nobody gets the secretaries a coffee."
"Shopgirls either," Rose interjected, and the two women shared a smile.
"And Lance, he's the head of HR! He don't need to bother with me. But he was nice; he was funny. And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So that's how it started, me and him. One cup of coffee. That was it."
"When was this?" the Doctor asked.
"Six months ago."
"And you're getting married already?" Rose asked. "We knew each other for more than two years before we got engaged."
To be fair, I knew in less than a week that I'd never willingly let you go, the Doctor told Rose.
Oblivious to their silent conversation, Donna shrugged. "Well, he insisted."
Rose and the Doctor shared a look that Donna didn't catch. It was hard to imagine Donna doing anything just because someone else insisted on it, and besides—there was something in her voice that suggested it had been the other way around. Rose bit back a grin; she could only imagine how persistent Donna had been.
"And he nagged, and he nagged me. And he just wore me down. And then finally, I just gave in."
Rose waited for the Doctor to comment on the likelihood of Donna's story, but he let it pass. "What does H. C. Clements do?"
"Oh, security systems. You know, entry codes, ID cards, that sort of thing. If you ask me, it's a posh name for locksmiths."
The Doctor rocked back slightly on the ledge. "Keys," he repeated, adding that to the disjointed list of facts he'd learned about Donna.
"Anyway, enough of my CV," she said briskly. "Come on, it's time to face the consequences. Oh, this is going to be so shaming." Donna stared blankly over the City for a moment, then looked sharply at the Doctor. "You can do the explaining, Martian boy."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, then helped Rose and Donna up. "Yeah. I'm not from Mars," he told Donna.