Doctor Who Fic: Not for all the moons made of mistletoe

I wrote this for a story exchange a little while ago, and of course it belongs to the BBC and Russell T. Davies. Just a little holiday cheer, hope everyone likes it. In case you can't tell, it's the Ninth Doctor.




Rose forgot what day it was.

Time seemed to lose meaning in the TARDIS- one day here, a century or two later there, and then the year five billion. If she stopped to think of it, which she didn't, because of all the adventures and fun and capers, it would remind her of her days at Henrik's when holidays were something important to other people, people who actually had them off.

Saving the universe doesn't have a day off, and if it wasn't for Shireen's text message of Christmas Cheer she'd have forgotten the date. She rolled over in bed, back onto her back after lunging for the superphone on her nightstand, and read the screen again. Wondered if her Mum wanted her home for the holidays, but she hadn't said and they'd only just been there last week. But it had been... She bit her lip, thinking, and raked a hand through her blond locks. It had been November, hadn't it, and Jackie hadn't said a thing about Christmas.

Still feeling numb about the holiday news she stumbled into the console room on her way to the kitchen. The Doctor raised a brow at her long t-shirt and short shorts, and she shrugged, not all that awake in response and handed him her cell phone.

“Christmas, is it?”

“Shireen says so.”

He handed the phone back, and looked down once more, quickly, at her bared legs. “Jack is going to think it's Christmas too.” And he looked like he wanted to bite his tongue at that.

Rose snorted. “I could loan you a pair.”

“Oi!”

But she was already at the door, and yawning again. He shook his head and poked at the controls.

“Think she needs to head home?”

The TARDIS hummed at him, and he shook his head.

“Yeah. Me too.” Another hum, and he snorted, petting the flat surface, fingers delicate and careful. “She'll like it, just don't kill us with tinsel.”
~~

Jack glanced up from his cup of coffee and nearly dropped the mug.

“Don't tell me the Doctor's in a pants stealing mood?”

Rose snorted. “As if.” She glanced at him, color lighting her cheeks. “You'd be starkers then.”

“Glad you noticed.” He preened, setting the coffee down next to his wrist comm and the newspaper he'd got somewhere. Of course, he'd put pajama bottoms on just for them. “What's with the frown?”

“Didn't realize it was Christmas.” She leaned up on the counter, pulling cereal boxes from a cabinet. Jack pretended not to watch, then went back to his newspaper with a grin on his face when she turned around, munching quietly. Rose wasn't much of a lady until she'd woken up, which was several cups of tea away at least. Jack liked it like this in the morning, the ease of it. Of course, it'd taken a few life or death, hoof it to the TARDIS at the last second adventures to get them all to this point, but getting shot at was worth it for this.

“Is it?” He asked, glancing to his wrist comm.

“Shireen says so.”

“Jackie want you home?”

Rose frowned. “She didn't say.” She munched for a bit. “They still do Christmas in the 51st?”

Jack shrugged, keeping his back to her. “Well. In some places. Buddha is still really popular, and you wouldn't believe some of the FSM-mas Festivals I've been to.” Rose's crunching came to a halt, and Jack lifted his coffee to his mouth to keep from laughing.

“You're having me on, right?”

Jack shrugged, still not turning to look and ruin the joke. “There's always the Mistletoe Harvest on the moons of the Boeshane.” This time he did turn and look. He winked. “Always mistletoe overhead there. Maybe we should go and visit?”

Rose was still staring at him like she couldn't sort the fact from fiction when the Doctor appeared in the doorway.

“Go and visit what?”

“Jack says there's a moon made of mistletoe.”

The Doctor looked at him, and Jack got busy looking at his wrist comm. “Sure you don't want to visit Jackie?”

“I think she's got plans. Or something.” Rose shrugged, and looked to the floor. “I haven't heard, actually.”

“What about us? We can't have plans?” He gestured to the walls of the ship. “The TARDIS is doing an 'As you wish' number on the main room, by the way. Thanks to Shireen.” Rose blinked at the sarcasm.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“...Are there presents?” Jack asked, and both of them turned to look at him. He shrugged defensively. “What? Everyone loves presents. I love presents.”

They wind up in front of the console, which has somehow taken on the aspect of a fir tree, with all the console lights mixing in with the fairy lights of the tree, and there's garland and tinsel wrapped through everything, dangling from the holes in the struts and winding under the floor grates. The Doctor huffs and pretends the smile on Rose's face isn't worth all the mess and the tinsel he's still going to be finding ten years from now.

“I don't see any presents.” Jack points out, like a child. Rose and the Doctor stare at him.

“Isn't it enough we're all here?” The Doctor demands, and pretends he's not putting his arms around their shoulders, and that they're both not snuggling against him. Rose is bad enough, but they're both warm and soft and there for him and it's hard to keep his game face on because he likes this so much.

“Yeah, Jack. All three of us.”

One of Jack's hands makes it to her back, petting through the thin cotton. “Well. Yeah. But presents-”

Her cell goes off, and Rose pulls away to read the screen. The boys watch her light up.

“Mum wants us home for Christmas dinner at six.” She tells them.

“I'll drop you off then.” And the Time Lord goes to set the controls, missing the look on her face.

“I said 'us'.”

The Doctor blinks. “Er. Us?”

“All of us. Family dinner, you know.”

Now he has to pretend he's not all warm on the inside too.