Title: A Glorious Mess

Author: wyntereyez

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: Ten-II, Rose Tyler

Rating: T

Series: Talk to the Hand

Beta: Still none. Sigh.

Disclaimer: Not mine, of course.

Summary: Set between Crossed Wires and Straight Up With A Twist, the Doctor and Rose share

their first Christmas together. This, of course, uses the 'first Christmas' fic cliché.

A/N: And with this chapter, I suddenly find myself wondering if the theme of this series is cross-dressing.

Part Two – Rose's Christmas

"Hate you. Hate you forever," Rose growls.

"I'll live," Jake says with a grin, raising the wig and settling it on Rose's head.

"Why aren't you doing this?"

"Because kids and I don't get along," Jake shrugs. "Remember the Rutellian circus?"

Rose shudders. "Point," she concedes. Not that she's much better with children, but her brother's

continued survival despite her baby-sitting attempts does put her ahead of Jake. "I don't see why I couldn't be an elf or something," she grumbles.

"Because our universe doesn't have something as ridiculous as elves making toys," he says in that long-suffering tone he's adapted for whenever she slips up.

Oh. Right. According the Christmas stories of this universe, Santa's toys are made by giant robotic versions of the toys; ten foot tall nutcracker or teddy bear costumes would be even more unwieldy than what she's wearing now.

"Smile," Jake says suddenly, and Rose yelps when he snaps a photo with his mobile. "For Torchwood records," he smirks.

"Forever," Rose hisses as she lumbers to her feet and shuffles over to the dressing room's full length mirror. Jake just laughs and snaps another picture.

Rose studies herself in the mirror, and has to admit it's a good disguise - even her own mum wouldn't recognize her. Still, when she thinks about undercover Torchwood missions, she thinks of casual clothing or uniforms or, in one case she hopes the Doctor never gets wind of, a stripper outfit. Those outfits all seem glamorous in comparison.

For this mission, she's going out dressed as Santa Claus.

There'd been a string of mysterious collapses over the past week; something had siphoned off their energy. Nothing serious, since it only seems to be drawing small amounts from large crowds, but alarming nonetheless, especially since many of the victims are small children. Questioning had revealed the victims had all had one thing in common: they'd all been to see the Santa at the local Henrik's on three different nights. They'd wanted to interrogate the Santas but all of three of them were out of commission, either unconscious or ill, thanks to a more severe energy drain.

Painstaking reviews of the CCTV footage had found a possible link between the incidents: an unattended child wearing a bright purple hat and scarf who'd appeared twice on camera. It acted like a normal child, going through the line and even sitting on Santa's lap, but that was when things began to get strange. Both times, the child reached up and touched the Santa's forehead before hopping off, seemingly without saying anything. Afterwards, the child would continue to show up in the camera footage at the edge of the crowd, and the Santa would look more and more out of it, before slipping into unconsciousness.

They'd staked out the Santa line the previous night, with no luck; not only had they seemingly scared the suspect away, but as two obviously childless adults skulking at the fringe of a crowd, they made parents suspicious as well. Jake is sporting a black eye from getting too close to a little girl in a purple hat who'd had a very overprotective mum.

So now Rose is spending her Christmas Eve eve by going out in public in a fat suit that nicely hides her age and gender, and Jake is dressed as a store security guard. Not exactly how she envisioned spending her holidays… but it's more than she's done over the past several years. And who knows, maybe she'll even have fun!

~oOo~

Three hours later, Rose just wants the alien to show up so she can take out her frustration on it. Oh, most of the kids are cute, sweetly asking her for toys or ponies or even new siblings. Some of them, however, make Rose very glad she doesn't have children of her own. She's had to put up with children who kick and scream, and she knows her legs are developing some rather nice bruises. Then there are those with wet bottoms, because their parents didn't want to pull out of the line to attend to their child's needs. Some of them rattle off endless lists, and throw a screaming fit when Rose tries to gently prod them into letting the next child have a turn. But the worst are the children with rather disturbing requests, like the boy who wants a ray gun to use on his new baby sister so he can be his parents' favourite again. What could she say to that?

She desperately wants it to show up tonight. If they can wrap things up quickly, she can get the paperwork done tomorrow and be home in time to spend Christmas Eve with the Doctor. She's hoping to have time to ease him into the holiday before telling him they're going to spend Christmas day with her mum.

Plus, she really doesn't want to leave the Doctor alone for too long. She's pretty certain that he's the type who will destroy things when bored.

"Wake up, Rose, I've got a possible sighting about ten families back," Jake says through her earpiece. Rose jerks up and looks where Jake directed. There, behind a family with identical triplets - oh, so not looking forward to that, multiples seemed to think they should be on her lap at the same time - was what looked like a lone child, its face obscured by a purple hat and scarf.

Rose tries to rush the children through the line, as Jake works his way closer to get a look at the 'child.' She wants as few people between her and the alien as possible when they make the grab. Unfortunately, the triplets are worse than she'd anticipated, and try to start a fight on her lap. Well, two of them do; the third seems to have caught on to the fact that she's not a man and is poking her chest in fascination.

Finally, their mum calls them away after what seems an eternity (she was probably enjoying her blissful, child-free moment), and Rose sighs in relief. The alien has to be easier to handle than squabbling triplets. Rose plasters a phony smile on her face as, finally, the target comes up to her. And it's definitely alien. She signals Jake one gloved hand, and he murmurs that he's moving in to position.

It looks like a little boy, except his features are sharper, and his eyes are a brilliant amethyst. He's about to hop onto her lap, when he suddenly catches sight of Jake, who is trying to move into position. With a hissing cry, he whirls around and runs, and Jake cries, "Get him!" Rose jumps to her feet and attempts to sprint after him. Unfortunately, the padding makes it harder than expected, so she tries a different tactic.

Rose launches herself in the air, arms outstretched to catch the alien. But just as her arms begin to close around him, he panics and freezes, and her momentum carries her over him.

Well, mostly.

SPLAT.

She's managed to land right on top of the alien.

Oh, that can't be good, Rose thinks as a purple fluid begins to seep sluggishly from beneath her.

Jake runs over to her, mouth hanging open. Around her, she hears high-pitched screams and sobs, and Rose turns her head to see the crowd of parents and children staring at her in terror. "I hope we brought enough Retcon," Jake says, his voice strained as he tries to hold back a laugh. "Otherwise, you may have just scarred these children for life." He snaps another picture, this time making sure to get the terrified children in the background.

"Hate you," Rose reminds him flatly. "Forever."

~oOo~

There is enough Retcon, fortunately, but Rose suspects the children will spend the rest of their lives having nightmares about Santa smashing them if they were naughty.

Unfortunately, they couldn't get the purple blood off the suit in time to return it to the rental place, and Rose had not only lost her deposit, but had been forced to buy the suit. Torchwood tech had later managed to completely clean it, and now she's the bemused new owner of a Santa outfit. She's not sure just what she's going to do with it, but in her line of work, it's always possible she'll encounter aliens who only dealt with jolly fat holiday icons.

She manages to make it back to her flat before midnight. Still Christmas Eve, she thinks with relief. She'd wanted to get home sooner, but the paperwork for accidentally crushing an alien and then Retconning children took most of the day. It hadn't helped that there'd been a Christmas party at the Torchwood field office, and her ears are still ringing from the blaring Christmas music. And she's a bit nauseous from too much chocolate. She just wants to spend a quiet evening with the Doctor, and not worry about Christmas until tomorrow.

After a perilous moment of juggling the suit and a wrapped present around until she can reach her keys, she opens the door to the flat, and stares in consternation as the door stops halfway. Rose squeezes through the gap, and gapes in astonishment. She has to check the number on the door to make sure its actually her flat and not the North Pole.

"What the hell?" she yelps.

There's a tree in the corner, so tightly wrapped with lights that at first she isn't sure there's a tree beneath them. There are wreaths, garlands, more lights, an inflatable sleigh and reindeer that she's sure is meant as a yard ornament, the giant stuffed snowman that was blocking the door, and piles of wrapped packages are spilled across the floor. Fake snow has been sprayed all over the windows, furniture, and television. The only thing that seems to be missing is the mistletoe.

So much for easing the Doctor into Christmas. He seems to have run headlong into it and it exploded on impact.

He's fast asleep on the sofa, his clothing rumpled and his hair more askew than usual. He's holding something wrapped in a pink blanket in his arms. There's a bow stuck to his temple, and tinsel in his hair. Rose drops the Santa suit and the present on the coffee table, then leans forward and kisses him.

Oooh. He'd found peppermint lip gloss.

His eyes snap open, and he blinks blearily for a few moments, before croaking out, "Rose? Rose! You're home!" He struggles into a sitting position. "How was the mission?"

Rose bites back a sharp laugh. "Oh, you know how it is. Stopped the bad alien, traumatized several dozen small children. The usual." She turns from him and makes a point of examining the chaos that had once been her flat. "What happened here? Or do I want to know?"

"Oh, I just… decorated." He shrugs casually, but she can see that he's pleased with himself.

"Is that all?' she says weakly. She wonders how she's going to explain to Pete that he's going to have to pay off the Doctor's credit card again. She's going to have to take it from the Doctor and hide it until he gets a job and can pay for these things himself.

"You didn't have any Christmas decorations, and I thought…" he ran his hand through his hair, dislodging the bow. He blinks at it in confusion as it falls to the floor. "I thought maybe you thought I didn't want to celebrate it with you."

"You've only been here for three weeks. I didn't want it to feel like I was trying to pressure you into anything."

"Don't you know me?" he snorts. "I want to experience everything. I would have loved picking out a tree with you - you could have protected me from the salespeople!"

He can save the universe without breaking a sweat, but apparently salespeople terrify him.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to make it look like I didn't want to share Christmas with you. I just… I'm out of the habit of celebrating. That's why I don't have anything, and never really gave much this Christmas much thought. I was ready to leave this world at a moment's notice, so I kept my life simple. I don't have anything for Christmas, or Halloween, or any other holiday. When I want to celebrate, I go to Mum's, but I haven't had anything to celebrate on my own." She lightly brushed his stubbled cheek. "I do now, though."

He tilts his face forward, and she closes her eyes, ready to meet his kiss. Instead…

"Is that a Santa outfit?" he blurts out.

Rose had forgotten about the suit, which is still sitting on the table. "Er, yeah. It was part of the mission."

"Were there reindeer involved?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Ha," she mutters.

"Don't you mean, 'ho?'" he asks mischievously. Then his grin widens. "Sooo, are you going to model it for me?"

No way in hell is Rose getting back into that outfit. "I picked up something for you while I was away." She gestures to the package she'd set on the coffee table. She has more presents for him, but she'd hidden them at her mum's.

"A present? For me?" He beams, looking like he'd just won the lottery. He tears into the wrapping like an excited child. "Oh, Rose, thank - What is that?" he yowls, dropping the box as if burned. Rose scoops up the box and pulls out the contents.

The sweater is an atrocity: a riot of colour and holiday images that make it look as if the spirit of Christmas was sick all over it. The background is made up of red, white, and green vertical strips, each with a pattern of candy canes, trees, and mistletoe. Stitched to the front are cloth cut-outs of an enormously obese Santa, an anatomically incorrect Rudolph, and a Christmas tree surrounded by technicolour presents and toys.

The Doctor stares at it, speechless. Rose decides that that alone makes it worth the price. "It's…" he begins, then stops. "Uh…"

"Isn't it something?" she grins.

"Yeah, it's something all right," he says weakly.

"Ugly holiday sweaters are a tradition here," she says, as he continues to fumble for something to say that's both appropriate and polite. "That's the most hideous one I could find that would fit you."

He eyes her uncertainly, clearly wondering if she's making a joke at his expense. When he makes no move to touch the sweater, Rose sighs. "If you put it on, I'll wear the Santa outfit for you, all right?"

He pokes it tentatively, as though expecting (hoping?) it would reveal itself to be some sort of monstrous life form he could cleverly vanquish. When nothing happens, he takes the sweater from Rose and pulls it on over his wrinkled T-shirt.

"Very handsome," she says, attempting to keep a straight face and failing miserably. The Doctor scowls, but then brightens.

"Since you let me open something, it's only fair that you do, too!" he says, bouncing over to the tree and pulling out a wrapped package, which he presents with a flourish. "Here!"

Rose can't help but smile as she accepts it and slowly tugs at the wrapping, and the Doctor rocks on his feet impatiently. She increases her speed when it starts to look like he's going to take the present from her and open it himself to rush things along.

"It's a toaster," she says, puzzled. "A nice one, but we already have one."

"Um…" the Doctor rubs the back of his neck. Uh-oh. "Not any more, we don't."

This is why she doesn't like leaving him home alone. Rose suppresses a groan. "What happened to the toaster?"

"Er… I wanted it to toast the bread faster, so I did a bit of jiggery-pokery. I think it travels through time now," he says, shamefaced.

Rose decides she doesn't want to know. Plausible deniability will be a good thing if conspiracy theorists spot her toaster in the photos from Kennedy's assassination. "You…" she says, exasperated, then bursts out laughing and pulls him into a hug, resting her head against his chest. "What am I going to do with you?" she gasps out.

"Ho, ho, ho!" a voice shrills in her ear. The Doctor stiffens and looks down at his sweater in surprise. Rudolph's nose is glowing, and the fabric Santa shrieks again.

Oh. She hadn't known it talked.

"Ooooh, brilliant!" The Doctor squeals, prodding at his chest until he finds the button that activates the voice. She needs to stop him now or he'll be playing with it all night.

"I do have another gift for you," she purrs. "But we'll have to move to the bedroom for it."

"Really? But you haven't had time to put anything in the bedroom, and there weren't any presents in there earlier - oh…" His eyes light up in sudden understanding. "Are you going to wear the suit?" he asks hopefully.

"The suit?" she repeats. He can't possibly mean what she thinks he means. He's odd, but not that odd.

"The Santa suit!" he says. Okay. Maybe he is that odd.

"You want me to put on the Santa suit. For sex," she says slowly. Maybe he'd somehow not understood what she'd meant?

But he nods excitedly. "You said you would if I wore the sweater," he says, and gestures towards his chest pointedly.

It's gotta be some sort of alien thing, she tells herself. Or maybe it's some kink of Donna's that he'd inherited. "You like that sort of thing," she says warily.

"No… I just want to be able to take it off you," he says, his voice dropping into a husky growl. "Show you just how naughty I can be. I just… want to do something Christmas-y."

Ah. Now that she can deal with. "All right," she grins. "But you have to keep the sweater on."

He pouts. "Deal," he sighs.

She heads into the loo and changes into the suit, and when she comes out, he's sprawled across the bed, wearing nothing but the hideous sweater and the extra-large gift ribbon placed over his groin. It clashes alarmingly with his come hither expression.

It's actually hotter than she expected, this naughty little strip tease and the subsequent activities. She just wishes the damned sweater wouldn't yell "Ho, ho, ho!" whenever things start to get interesting.

~tbc~

A/N: And another cliché: Ten-II vs. the toaster, which has somehow replaced the Master as the Doctor's mortal enemy. It seems to be a rule of all post-JE fic that he somehow destroy the toaster in some spectacular manner.

Also, once again I have no idea if things like sitting on Santa's lap or ugly holiday sweaters are common in the UK. So, if not, I'm going to cheat and play the Alternate Universe card.