Twelfth Day of Christmas! Here I am at last, completely caught up and on the final day of the prompt.
So…does anyone have any great ideas for my upcoming 50th chapter? I was thinking about doing something a bit more on the special side for getting that far into the story. But I have so many prompts to catch up on that I should probably get to those first.
*shrugs*
Starting and ending with Ten…can you guys tell I'm biased? :P
God bless and have a Merry Christmas!
ThePro-LifeCatholic
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, nor do I own the wonderful holiday that is Christmas.
Writing Prompt: 12th Day of Christmas
Characters: 10th Doctor, the Master, mentions of Martha Jones, her family, and Jack Harkness
Shippings: DEFINITELY NONE.
Genre: Humor/Christmas-y
Rating: K
Note: I don't know why or how this came about. To quote the ingenious Sherlock Holmes: "It just sort of…happened."
This is a bit of a weird thing that my sister and I came up with one day when we were discussing crazy Doctor Who headcanons. I know that it's completely not-canon and doesn't make any sense within the context of the show…but my sister and I thought it was hilarious, and I'm going to post it anyway.
It's because I'm a rebel at heart who likes to live dangerously.
ANOTHER NOTE: Some of these were written by my sister, SimmonsButterflys.
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas
The Doctor let me see:
A red scarf for Christmas
A letter to Santa
A lake of Frozen Silver
A proper Christmas Dinner
Trees falling over
A sled ride down a mountain
Tea after Midnight
SURPRISE SNOW FIGHTS!
Carols from the Past
Mugs of Hot Chocolate
A new red bike…
…And a small Babe asleep in the hay.
No matter who you are or what career you have, you will always encounter that one job that you will not like. It could be anything: babysitting someone who's extremely annoying, having to devote constant care to a spoiled pet, or facing up to an enemy.
If you happen to be the Doctor, you most likely end up doing all three at once.
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
*tap-tap-tap-tap*
The Doctor forced himself not to glance over the edge of the table. Instead, he kept his attention fixed on the partly-constructed gingerbread house in front of him. He peered at the gumdrops over the brainy specs – currently sliding down the bridge of his nose – and contemplated whether or not yellow and orange gumdrops should go side-by-side, or if yellow and red would be a better combination.
*tap-tap-tap-tap*
The Doctor snapped a candy cane in half and glowered at the pair of dark brown eyes that peeked over the tabletop. One finger was busily drumming a beat of four onto the wooden surface.
*tap-tap-tap-tap*
"What?" the Doctor bit out. The Master considered the question for a moment before slowly straightening up and leaning close to the Doctor's head.
"Don't build the gingerbread house," he whispered hoarsely, a manic grin spreading over his face. "Just eat the pieces."
Then, without any added commentary or explanation, the Master crouched down again, disappearing underneath the table. The Doctor stared at the empty space next to him for a few seconds. Shaking his head and sighing loudly, the Time Lord returned to his Christmas craft.
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
"Are you gonna eat that?"
The Doctor bit down hard on his spoonful of chili, letting the hot pieces of meat scald his tongue. Swallowing and taking a moment to gather his quickly dwindling supply of patience, he faced the Master, who was watching him eat with a hungry look.
"Yes, I'm gonna eat it." The Doctor held up his spoon for emphasis. "I'm eating it, right now, in front of you. Why would you think I wasn't gonna finish it?"
The Master's face fell. "I'm hungry," he muttered.
"Tough," the Doctor replied, looking the Master right in the eyes. They held each other's gaze intently for a moment. Then, without breaking eye contact, the Master inched forward. Stretching out his arm in a deliberate motion, the Master took hold of the Doctor's unused napkin. Still without looking away, he brought it to his mouth, tore a piece of it off with his teeth, and began chewing it.
"That's not very healthy," the Doctor noted.
The Master ripped off another piece nonchalantly, stuffing it into his mouth while maintaining an even stare with the elderly Time Lord.
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
The Doctor opened up the fridge and grinned when he caught site of the eggnog carton shoved to the back. Martha had probably put it there to hide it from him.
"Too bad for Martha," he said to the empty kitchen. "She's just gonna have to find a better hiding spot next time." Pulling the eggnog off of the shelf, the Doctor shut the fridge…and jumped back when the Master was revealed to have been standing directly behind the door.
Not giving the chance to say anything, the Master stepped forward, eyes wide.
"Don't shake the eggnog before you pour it," he advised. Then with a short chuckle, he backed out of the kitchen.
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
"Pour in the hot chocolate mix…before adding the hot milk."
Spinning around on his heel, the Doctor threw the crumpled hot-cocoa-mix-packet at back of the retreating Master's head.
"Hey!" he yelped, turning on his archenemy. "I just fixed my hair!"
"Your fault," the Doctor retorted curtly, turning back to his cup of hot chocolate.
Needless to say, the Doctor was much more to say about hair injustices after several packets had been emptied out onto his own head.
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
"Here you go," the Doctor said one day, tossing a wrapped package at the Master's head. The Time Lord snatched it before it slammed into his face and cast a suspicious look at the Doctor. He examined the present thoroughly, turning it over several times, feeling it, shaking it, and even licking the paper. Finally, with a shrug, the Master flung all pretenses of his well-being aside and ripped open the gift. There, lying amidst the shreds of decorative paper, was a red scarf.
"I figured it would be more comfy than that collar you're always wearing," the Doctor explained. He had been watching the Master this whole time, and couldn't hold back the small smile as the Master inspected his present.
"It's nice, I guess…" the hoodie-Time-Lord finally grunted. His eyes lit up and the ends of his mouth pulled up. "…I could hang someone's dog with this."
Any nostalgic fondness that the Doctor was in danger of feeling a second ago vanished completely.
"I bet you could," he conceded with a deadpan expression, sounding more exasperated than anything else.
SimmonsButterflys:
The Master peered sideways at the Doctor, watching him sign Christmas cards with a flourish.
"Why are you writing those? It's the middle of summer." The Master finally asked in a monotone voice.
"It's a time-machine." The Doctor stated, "Besides, this means that I don't have to do it later."
The talking paused for a few moments before the Master spoke up again,
"Can I do one?" He asked eagerly. The Doctor looked up with a hint of surprise on his face,
"You want to make a Christmas card?" he queried. The Master shrugged.
"Sure, why not? I mean, you're doing it." The Doctor tilted his head to one side,
"I've got friends. You don't have friends. Who are you going to send a card to?"
"I don't know, I was thinking that I'd send it to Rassilon…but he's dead." Another pause, "Maybe I'll send one to myself in the past; that way I can say that I did something nice for myself at least once in my life."
"…Okay then…" The Doctor reached over for the stamps but met an empty spot at the table, "Where are the stamps?" he asked the blond man sitting next to him. The Master glanced casually behind him in the direction of the oven.
"I baked them into a fruit cake," he stated.
"What?" the Doctor inquired sharply. "Why would you do that?"
"Because no one likes fruit cake; even I don't like it! OH!" Here the Master's voice dropped to a whisper and his eyes gleamed a dangerous light, "don't put the return address on any of the letters." Then he slipped under the table. The Doctor sat still for a few seconds before looking under the table,
"You know I can see you, right?"
"Shhh…"
ThePro-LifeCatholic:
Martha turned on the oven light and peered through the thick glass.
Perfect, she thought happily. The turkey looked and smelled delicious. Jack and the Doctor had been growing increasingly impatient, moaning and carrying on about how famished they were. Well, now; Ms. Martha Jones would certainly give them something worth waiting for.
Pulling on a pair of oven mitts, Martha opened the oven door, backing up as a blast of hot air rushed out and into her face. Then she stooped forward, braving the heat and lifting the cooked foul off of the metal rack.
It was only after she had placed it on the stovetop and turned off the oven that Martha noticed something…different about her Christmas masterpiece.
"There is a chunk out of this thing!" she hollered, "And it certainly wasn't there before I put it in the oven!"
"MASTER!"
Somewhere inside the TARDIS, a blond-haired culprit began laughing manically at the top of his lungs.
SimmonsButterflys:
The Master whined again as the Doctor handed him another package.
"Whyyyyyyyyyyyy are we doing thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis? he demanded for the thousandth time that morning,
"We're taking some of these things down to the children's hospital. I'm not using this stuff anymore so I'm donating it."
"We could do something else with it."
"Like what?"
"…Light it on fire."
"No."
"But-"
"No."
"…Fine," the Master grumbled as the two of them trudged out of the TARDIS with their burdens. As they made their way down the street the Master couldn't help making suggestions to the Doctor along the way.
"Don't use the crosswalk," he hissed into the other Time Lord's ear, "Everyone else isn't using it; that makes it okay."
"No, it doesn't." The Doctor stated as he walked between the two white lines. The Master plodded along behind him, half-on/half-off of the crosswalk with a scowl on his face.
"See those kids? Tell them Santa's not real."
"Those are teenagers; I highly doubt they believe in Santa Clause."
"Tell that person that Christmas is tomorrow. It'll be funny to watch them freak out."
"One more word from you and I'm not buying you hot chocolate today."
SimmonsButterflys:
The Doctor really didn't want to stay in someone's house for Christmas but Martha had insisted and had insisted brilliantly, for that matter. Now here he was with a cup of tea in his hand and staring out the window at the falling snow. Why had he agreed to spend Christmas here? The Jones family was up to its old noise again.
"That's what you get with humans though, right?" The Doctor asked the empty room.
"Yep. They haven't changed a bit."
The Doctor spun around at the sound of another voice. His eyes scanned his surroundings, but he couldn't see anyone. He edged closer to the middle of the room.
"Yes, just perfectly in line with human nature…" He said out loud.
"Tell me about it. Did you hear what they're arguing about? It's about how much ice cream there should be in one serving! That's ridiculous! You just take the carton and run!"
The Doctor's eyes narrowed and he walked swiftly across the room and over to the chimney. With the aid of a poker he reached into the hollow space and thrust his arm upward several times. It wasn't long before he heard a yelp and then a crash as the Master tumbled out of the chimney.
"Really?" the Doctor demanded hotly. "Are you following me?"
The Master grinned and turned his sooty face up at his elder, "I made the carpet dirty. Now they have to vacuum…on Christmas." The Doctor rubbed his hand against his face.
"I don't believe this."
Guess who will be writing more Ten and the Master in the future?
That's right: me.
Gosh, I had so much fun writing this.
Now I should probably go and work on my other poor, neglected Doctor Who stories…
Thanks to all you readers/followers/favoriters for making my Christmas season even more awesome!