This chapter is based on a suggestion from Ray_Writes: Why Donna hates Christmas.

This version is about my tenth attempt at trying to write something for that prompt, but I'm still not entirely happy with it.

"Do we have to go?" Donna asked, the first sleepy words out of her mouth on Christmas morning. She rolled over and curled against him, one hand coming to rest on his hip. Her skin was pleasantly warm from being bundled under the covers all night long, and she let out a pitiful little whimper that evolved into a yawn.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her middle and nuzzled into her hair, happily accepting her unspoken request to cuddle. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"Yeah, yeah, merry Christmas." She sighed. "But, seriously, do we have to go?"

They had been invited to spend Christmas with her family as usual, and she didn't want to go. She had been trying to find an excuse to skip it for the past week at least.

"Your mum will never forgive us if we don't," he reminded her. Sylvia had said so herself.

"Is that really so bad?"

He considered it. "Maybe not for us, but your Gramps will be disappointed if she never lets us step foot in her house again."

"He can always come visit us here."

"Donna."

"What?"

"Now you're just being silly."

"I'm not." She sighed and turned her face towards his, her eyes bright in the pale light the TARDIS produced to wake them. "I just really don't want to go. You know I hate Christmas. Why can't we skip over it altogether? We could go straight to, I don't know, Easter."

"You know, you've never told me why you hate Christmas so much." He honestly didn't understand it. Christmas was just about the best holiday ever, in his opinion. There was so much fun to be had, in so many places and times, and in so many ways.

"I just hate it," she said. "Do you have to have a reason to hate something?"

"Well… I'm going to go with yes." He kissed her forehead. "C'mon, tell me."

She sighed. "It's not just one thing. It's a load of things."

"We've got all the time in the universe," he coaxed.

"Fine." She buried her face in his chest and huffed. "I've never really liked Christmas, not even when I was child and believed in Santa. Mum was always stressed by trying to shop and cook, and she wanted me to stay out of her way. I had to quickly open my presents in the morning and put them away so she could start getting ready for dinner. She'd invite everyone over and send me to my room so I wouldn't get in the way while they visited, and I couldn't come down until dinner was on the table. Gramps tried to talk some sense into her, but she told him off too. And then I'd go to school and hear about all of the fun my classmates had had, and it just made me feel awful."

"I'm so sorry," the Doctor said, as he gently stroked her back. He knew that he couldn't go back and change things for her, but sometimes he really wished that he could. His Donna didn't deserve anything bad that had ever happened to her.

"Oh, and then my very first boyfriend when I was a teenager decided that Christmas was the perfect day to cheat on me, and then that was all I could think about for years when December came around. Him and that other girl. I wanted to get married on Christmas to try to make at least one good memory, but then Lance, well, you know."

"Mm," he agreed, softly.

"But it's all just a load of commercialized rubbish anyway, isn't it? It's all shop, shop, shop, and people getting angry because you didn't get them exactly what they wanted, and worrying that someone got you something better than what you got them. What's the point of it all? It's just a waste of time and money. No one actually likes those bits, do they?" She sighed. "And Mum still doesn't like me coming around and trying to help with the cooking. She'd probably still send me to my room if she could. And you know how she is. She'll be all over us about grandkids and what we're doing with our lives. Not to mention the diet police bit she always does."

The Doctor hugged her closer as an idea came to him. "Come on. We're going to go your mum's and get through it, and then we are going to go do something fun for Christmas. You're going to have a happy Christmas this year."

Donna shook her head. "No, really. You don't have to do that. I just want the day to be over."

He reluctantly pulled himself away from her and sat up. "Come on, trust me. I know just where to take you."

By the end of the night, Donna had been wined, dined, and danced with to her heart's content. She'd seen the Great Christmas Trees of Vaash, and heard the highest rated performance of the Jingle Bells and Lights Chorus from two hundred years in the future. She'd even roasted chestnuts on an open fire, and made snow angels in the sandy snow of Hooler Holiday Beach.

"So, what do you think about Christmas now?" the Doctor asked, as they snuggled into bed that night.

"Still hate it," she admitted with a sigh, and his face instantly fell, his bottom lip dramatically sticking out. "Oh, don't pout. I had a lot of fun today with you, Doctor, and while I'll probably never like Christmas, I want you to know that I…" She took a deep breath. "I- I love you."

They had been in a proper relationship for a while now, but neither of them had said those precious words yet. She'd realized, as they had danced around the ballroom, that he would do anything to give her a moment of happiness and joy, even if it was something that he didn't enjoy. He listened to her and really heard her, and he made her feel so loved and wanted. She didn't know why she hadn't said it sooner. She was planning to spend forever with him, after all.

"Love you too," he murmured, and hugged her tight. "So much."