wishiknewwho | Miles to Go: My Love, On Christmas Day

Title: My Love, On Christmas Day
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: G
Characters: Ten / Rose, OC (Kira)
Dislcaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future. Title taken from the song "Christmas Day" by Dido.
Spoilers: None for DW; takes place in a world where Doomsday never happened. However, if you intend to read my fic Miles to Go and don't want it spoiled, you might want to wait on this one.
Summary: Getting a tree.
Author Notes: This story and the two following it all concern the Christmas tree because it is that important. ;)

As always, thanks to nipplemuggins and salimali for being fantastic betas.

Rose pulled her hat down further over her ears and smiled at first her daughter and then the Doctor. They were walking alongside her, lost in a conversation about what would happen to the TARDIS in a black hole. The three of them were on their way to get their Christmas tree, one of Rose’s favourite things about the holiday season.

There was an art to picking out a tree, an art that apparently only she knew. It had started when she was small. Jackie had one of those artificial trees, and Rose hated it. She wanted a live tree, one of the ones like families on the telly had, full and green, covered in hundreds of lights and homemade ornaments. She wanted the pine tree smell, the garland, and the star at the top. She didn’t even care if there were a lot of presents underneath it, she just wanted the beautiful tree to make their cramped little flat feel more like a home.

She’d asked Jackie for a real tree, but every year Jackie said they barely had enough money to buy gifts and cook Christmas dinner, let alone spend money on a tree that would die after two weeks. She knew that Jackie just felt bad about not being able to give her everything she wanted, and as soon as Rose was old enough, she saved money herself and paid for a live tree each year, well except for the years she was with the Doctor.

And once she had Kira, she made it into a tradition. They went each year to a little garden centre a few streets away from their building. They would wander around for the better part of an hour as Rose inspected each tree and Kira complained about how long she was taking. Rose would look until she found the most perfect tree they had. No tree was ever perfect, but she’d come pretty close a few times. Then they’d drag the tree back to the flat and spend the evening decorating it. By nightfall, their flat would look magical, and despite the complaining and arguing, both she and Kira would admit that it was all worth it.

This year, they were including the Doctor in their Christmas tradition. He’d rambled excitedly when they’d told him, talking about the last Christmas tree he’d had, the history of Christmas trees, and how he hoped this one wouldn’t start spinning and try to attack them like the one at Jackie’s had.

They made their way to the garden centre, and Rose started her search. She was very methodical, looking at each tree carefully and categorizing it into either a no or maybe category. This year seemed to be worse than other years; only a few trees made it into the maybe category. The Doctor and Kira weren’t much help either, wandering up and down the aisles with their sonic screwdrivers poised, pretending to be on the lookout for an alien attack.

She looked at her last possibility, trying to ignore the yawning hole near the bottom, frowning and pushing back tears of frustration. She let out a little sigh, and moments later the Doctor was at her side.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked, discreetly slipping his sonic back into his pocket and slipping his arm around her shoulder.

Rose sucked in a breath, a little embarrassed that she was almost crying over something so silly. “None of these trees are right. And you are Kira are no help at all. Playing around and teasing me. I just want our tree to be perfect.”

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I know this means a lot to you.”

“I’m being stupid,” she said, taking comfort in his hug despite her words.

He pulled back a little and shook his head. “You’re never stupid, Rose,” he said. “How about we get Kira and go somewhere else to find a better tree?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “The next garden centre is a few miles away. It’d be a pain to drag it that far. Or are you suggesting we go to Tesco’s?” She could hear the horror in her voice.

The Doctor wiped an errant tear from under her eye then chuckled. “You forget who I am, Rose Tyler,” he said smugly, capturing her lips in a quick kiss, then taking her hand. He called for Kira and the three of them left the shop.

He wouldn’t answer any of her questions as he led them back to the TARDIS and set the coordinates. Rose even got Kira on her side, and the two of them circled the console behind him, begging him to tell them where they were going. Even their matching pouts did not convince him to tell, and they finally gave up, retreating to the captain’s chair.

The TARDIS landed, and the three of them exited, Rose and Kira right behind the Doctor.

“Ah, perfect,” he sighed, taking in the landscape before him.

Rose took in the rows of Christmas trees, all lined up perfectly, just waiting to be cut down. She’d never got to choose one that was still in the ground. She grinned and wrapped her arms around the Doctor, giving him a sideways hug. “You’re brilliant,” she whispered.

He grinned back at her and kissed her again.

“What’s Santa’s Forest, Daddy?” Kira asked, reading the wooden sign with red letters in front of them.

“It’s a Christmas tree farm,” the Doctor said. “We’re in America, sometime around 1986. Southern part of the country, I’d say. I didn’t want to deal with snow.”

“So we just pick out a tree and they cut it down for us?” Kira asked, looking at all the trees in front of them and then at Rose. “That might take a while.”

“Oi, stop picking on your mum,” the Doctor said, giving Kira’s hair an affectionate tousle. “She just wants you to have the perfect tree.”

Kira nodded and wrapped her arms around Rose’s waist. “Can I help you find it, Mum?” she asked.

“That’d be lovely,” Rose said.

The elderly man who ran the farm gave them cups of apple cider and they wandered up and down the rows of trees, until Rose found the most perfect tree she’d ever seen, the one she’d been dreaming of since she was little. It was the perfect size, the perfect shape, and there were no holes.

“This one,” she said, running her fingers over the needles.

“Are you sure?” the Doctor asked.

She smiled. “I’m sure.”

“Then we’ll find the man and get him to cut it down. Then it’s all ours.” His hand met hers on the branch and he squeezed her fingers.