Author's Note: Merry Christmas everyone who has persevered with this tale, especially JuicyLucy who has lovingly reviewed most of the chapters. Again I don't own any of it. Doctor Who and anything associated with the programme belong to the BBC, Father Christmas belongs to Christmas and children everywhere. Merry Christmas again, sorry for the cheesy ending but I had to, enjoy C x

PS Lyrics to the Christmas Song belong to Frank Sinatra again.

Epilogue

It was late when the Doctor left the party, he stumbled down the stairs quietly and fumbled with the key in the lock. He sighed, not entirely sure why he was acting drunk, he was a Timelord, Earth liquor had no affect on him, the Christmas dinner had fallen into drunken antics soon after the pudding and the French digestif, after which he had decided that it might be wise to firstly take the special guests back to their own time zone, and secondly when he returned he acted a little tipsy to fit in with the crowd. As he opened the door to the TARDIS he paused to wave good night to Sarah Jane as she drove back to London with Luke and Martha.

Inside he found Father Christmas sitting in front of the fire, munching on mincepies.

"Ah, there you are. I trust you got the job done before you went to that party?"

"Of course. All the children in 1837 have been given their gifts."

"Good, now I get to start on 1838." Father Christmas smiled and stood up. "You know, I really didn't think you had it in you, but you really pulled it off. And filled the suit quite well. Better now than before." He said raising a eyebrow at the Doctor's apparel and slightly enlarged gut. "Too many mince pies my friend. You'll have to watch out for that." He stood up and smiled magnanimously as he patted his corpulent belly. "The missus has never let me forget that I was once as skinny as you. Talking of the missus, if you really have got it all done, I should be getting back. Could you give me a lift to the North Pole, 26th December 1837? It's just she'll have the Christmas dinner ready, and I hate to disappoint."

"Not a problem. I'll just flick a few switches here, turn this knob and push this lever and away we go."

The TARDIS landed on a snowy clearing and Father Christmas helped him pull the sleigh back out of the TARDIS, who was very obliging and stretched the door without being asked. The sleigh was much lighter now that all the presents were gone, but the Doctor thought he probably still would have struggled. The Sleigh he had decided was much like the TARDIS and very attached to her master – no one else could touch her without express permission. The Reindeer were summoned with a single whistle and trotted into the misty night alone, towing the sleigh behind them.

"Would you like some dinner?" Father Christmas asked, awkwardly.

"No, no, have to keep an eye on the figure, lots of running in this job, wouldn't do to get out of shape." Father Christmas nodded and began to walk off in the same direction as the reindeer. "I never asked." The Doctor called, "What exactly are you? Human, alien, Timelord?" he added hopefully.

"I'm just human, with a few advantages." The reply drifted back. "Take care of yourself Doctor, there's darkness ahead I'll warrant." The Doctor nodded, scratched his head and went to close the back door of the TARDIS, wondering what dark times could be coming. As he walked back inside the TARDIS he heard a voice calling:

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night."

He smiled and started to hum as he closed the door behind him. Father Christmas had left some Frank Sinatra playing and the Doctor left it on whilst he decided where to go next.

'And so, I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although its been said
Many times, many ways
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas to.. You!'