Title: A Domestic Christmas.

Author: trustno1 / trustno1987 / trustno1987

Pairing: Nine/Rose

Spoilers: Up to Father's Day I think, if you've been living on Mars for the last year.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me :(

Summary: Started out as a short, fluffy Christmassy fic coz I felt like writing something different, but it's actually quite long. And pretty awful too, with no plot, nothing in the way of descriptions or decent characterizations, and no beta :S But hey, it's Christmas, and this fic wanted to be written, dammit!

II

The TARDIS door burst open with a well-placed kick from the Doctor's boot, and he stumbled in, carrying an unconscious Rose in his arms. Pushing it closed behind him, but not bothering to check if it had latched properly, he hurried out of the control room and through the corridors to the medical room. Carefully, he laid Rose on a bed and set about cleaning the bloody cut on her forehead, and sorting the bruises on her arms and shoulders. Thankful that she was only wearing a t-shirt and that he wouldn't have to struggle taking a long sleeved top or jumper off her, he berated himself for letting this happen to her. True, it was only a few cuts and bruises – nothing he couldn't fix, though she'd have one hell of a headache for a while. But still, he could easily have avoided it if, like she shouted, he wasn't so pig-headed sometimes…

"For God's sake, it's Christmas, Doctor!" Rose yelled, stopping in her tracks. The Doctor also halted and gazed around at her in the fading sunlight on the third moon of Metadio. If they weren't arguing, he might have noticed how incredibly beautiful she looked, as the fiery red dusk shimmered around her, giving the illusion she was glowing. As it was, he was too busy being obstinate to notice.

"I have told you, I don't do domestic!" he replied, raising his voice to match hers.

"You just don't want to see my mother; that's it, isn't it?" she cried, getting more and more angry by the moment. She had only asked him a simple question: 'you are staying with me when I see mum for Christmas, aren't you?' and it had turned into this fully-fledged argument.

"That… and I don't. Do. Domestic!" he shouted. He couldn't understand why Rose wouldn't accept the fact that he didn't want to be burdened with other people's families, especially at Christmas. He had never done anything like going for dinner, or holidays, or heaven forbid, outings with families – it just wasn't what he did. He liked it just with him and Rose, thank you very much.

But another part of him piped up. Rose had a point. It was only dinner; it wasn't as if she was going to invite her entire family on board with them. And it would make her happy – she hadn't seen her mum, or the rest of her family for a few months at least, and some of them hadn't seen her for over a year.

But it was principles, the other part of him insisted. Nothing domestic. Including Christmas.

"You can be such a stupid, obstinate, pig-headed… alien, sometimes!" Rose shouted, her anger getting the better of her as she gave him a light shove. "It's dinner, for crying out loud! One day, out of the 900 bloody years you've had! The Universe can wait for one, lousy, stupid day while we do something that I actually want to do. And I want to see my family at Christmas, with you!" Giving him one final shove that surprised him as much as her outburst, she turned on her heal and strode back to where the TARDIS was parked.

The Doctor guiltily watched her leave, thinking she did have a point, and thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could forget about principles for just one day, when he heard a loud snap, thump and muffled scream from the direction Rose had gone.

"Oh shit!" he groaned. He had forgotten about the plant that fought back. Running through the dark green trees and flowers, he skidded to a halt in a clearing where a menacing-looking plant stood, flexing its black-green vines over the still body of Rose. Cursing under his breath he had rushed over, scooped her up before the plant could grab him too, and rushed her back here…

Brushing gentle fingers over the now healed cut, the Doctor sighed quietly. He was pig-headed. He was stupid. You had to be stupid to argue about staying for Christmas dinner with Rose. To argue about anything with Rose, he thought.

Giving her hand a quick squeeze, he left her to sleep for a while, and headed to the console room. He was thinking over something Rose had said earlier, when trying to present her argument to him: 'if you could see how great it is, you'd want to come – mum's actually in a really good mood, all my family's round, most of the block has one big party all day! It's not boring, it's fun – always has been.' Her plea had fallen on deaf ears at the time, but, he mused, he had a time machine. He could just go back a few years and see why exactly Christmas was so special for her.

II

He'd landed in an alley on a cold, crisp December morning in 1998. Unfortunately, he'd come a couple of days too early – it was only December 23rd. Never mind; he'd have a quick look around, then try again.

At the end of the alley was a side street of the main shopping centre, and in front of a small bike shop a young girl stood, gazing longingly at a bright red bike. Though her hair, held back from her face with a headband adorned with tinsel, was a light brown and halfway down her back, he'd recognise those deep, dark brown eyes with their graceful eyelashes anywhere. He was looking at a younger Rose.

He watched her staring in the window for a good few minutes, before he heard Jackie's voice cutting through the sounds of traffic and shoppers.

"Rose? Where are you, Rose?" A moment later, she appeared, looking flustered and carrying two large bags in each hand. "There you are! What did you do that for, you scared the life out of me, young lady!" she said, thankful rather than angry. Following her daughter's gaze, she raised her eyebrows. "What are you doing standing here?"

"The bike – it's gorgeous isn't it?" Rose said.

"I know it is, sweetheart, you've told me almost everyday for the past three weeks," Jackie said, and the Doctor thought he detected a hint of sadness in her voice as she made to take her daughter away.

"It's the same colour as the one dad had," Rose said quietly, still looking in the window, and the Doctor leaned around the corner a little more so he could hear her.

"Your dad never had a bike like that, Rose," Jackie said, confused.

"I know; he had a motorbike. I saw a picture in a box," Rose replied. Jackie frowned, then her face lit up as she remembered.

"Yeah, an old thing – he loved it so much. Got it when he was 17, fixed it right up. He was always working on that thing. And painted it bright red. Mainly to hide the rust," she said with a small laugh. "He worked hard to get that bike – if you work as hard as he did, maybe you'll be able to buy yours," she said gently, ending the conversation, and Rose's hopes that a big red bike would be waiting for her on Christmas Day, and hating having to do so.

The Doctor stepped out into the street and watched them as they walked in the direction of home. He just caught Jackie asking Rose if she wanted to help make some more mince pies and paper chains, and her gleeful response, before they turned the corner and were gone.

He turned his attention back to the bike that stood proudly in the window, and made up his mind.

II

This time, he got the date right. It was three am, Christmas morning, two days after he'd seen Jackie and Rose. Unlocking the front door of the flat with the sonic screwdriver, he silently wheeled the bike in. the flat looked pretty much the same as it did the last few times he'd been, though a Christmas tree stood in one corner, and colourful paper chains and cards adorned the room. Being careful of the small pile of presents under the tree, he stood the bike next to them, and in full view of Rose when she would wake up. Attaching the large bow and card reading 'Merry Christmas Rose, love Santa', he snuck back out.

II

The Doctor arrived back in the medical room as Rose was beginning to stir. He perched uncertainly on the edge of her bed, debating whether or not to take her hand.

"Oh, God. Ouch," she muttered, pushing herself upright, her eyes finding the Doctor's considerably meek ones. "Hey," she whispered, removing any doubt by taking his hand in hers.

"How's your head?" he asked. Rose shrugged.

"Aches like I just got whacked by a tree," she replied with a small smile. "How long was I out for?"

"About an hour – I gave you something to sleep it off," he said with a small smile of his own as a peace offering. It seemed to work.

"Sorry I yelled, I just, I dunno, got caught up I guess," she said, trying to avoid looking directly at him. Rose was hoping that the fact he didn't seem mad anymore meant that he might be considering staying with her. She wasn't holding out a great deal of hope, however; she knew how stubborn he was. If he really didn't want to stay he didn't have to – she should just be glad she was able to see her family and friends at Christmas, even if it meant missing the Doctor.

"You were right, I am pig-headed," the Doctor said, surprising Rose into looking up. "I'm also alien, which goes a tiny way to explaining that, but not much. And I don't do domestics, but," he added quickly, silencing Rose with a finger on her lips. "But if I can't handle your family for one day out of the hundreds of thousands I've seen, then I'm not much of a world-saving Time Lord. And not much good for you," he said quietly, watching emotions race across Rose's eyes and face rapidly. Biting her lip to stop the tears that threatened to fall she drew the Doctor into a hug, snuggling into his shoulder momentarily before pulling away and smiling at him.

"Thanks. It really means a lot, you know that?"

"I know," he replied, unnecessarily tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, leaving his palm against her cheek for longer than he needed. Rose didn't mind in the slightest, but had a hard time quelling the butterflies that insisted on fluttering madly in her stomach.

"You ready for Christmas then?" the Doctor asked eventually, standing up. Rose nodded, following him into the control room, a content smile on her lips. "December 25th it is then," he grinned, bounding around the console. Rose was about to step up when a thought struck her.

"No, wait! Christmas Eve, go to Christmas Eve." The Doctor frowned.

"I thought we only agreed on one day," he began cautiously.

"We did, and we are only going to mum's on Christmas Day."

"So… why the day before?"

"Shopping!" she said gleefully. The Doctor groaned.

"You're gonna drag me around London on Christmas Eve?" he asked incredulously, beginning to wish he'd thought this through a little more thoroughly.

"Yep!" she said with a grin as she sidled up to him and gave him a small hug. "I don't have any money!" He gave a long-suffering sigh, and set a course for December 24th.

II

"Just one more present to get," Rose said as they negotiated the crowds on Oxford Street. Though they had gotten there just as most shops were opening, the crowds were huge, mainly consisting of fraught looking men doing last minute shopping. The Doctor was one of these men, though not by choice and not looking for a present. Although…

"I'm just going to get something for the TARDIS," he said, leaning close to Rose to make himself heard over the traffic and bustle of the crowds. She looked a little puzzled, but shrugged.

"Meet you back at the TARDIS?" she asked. He nodded, before being swallowed up by the Christmas shoppers.

II

Rose waited by the console for the Doctor to return, wondering what on earth he had bought for the TARDIS from 21st Century London. Part of her wondered if maybe he'd got her a present – she'd bought him one – but she thought that might be a bit too domestic for him. Before she could think about it anymore, the door swung open and a tired Doctor stepped through, carrying a large bag. Rose bounded down to meet him, trying to see into the bag.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly, feeling like a kid again.

"I told you, something for the TARDIS," he replied calmly, swatting her hands away and pulling a long, rectangular box out.

"But what?"

"A Christmas tree!" he said, pulling a small tree out with a flourish and a grin. Rose laughed: it was only about two feet tall and still wrapped up in green plastic, but it was a tree alright. She couldn't believe he'd bought one.

"Brilliant," she said, smiling at how pleased with himself he looked. "Have you got lights?"

"Of course!" he said indignantly. "It wouldn't be a Christmas tree without lights." He pulled a long string of coloured lights from the box. "I'll sort these out – you can come back when it's done," he stated, helping Rose up.

"Oh. Ok then." She had hoped to help, though with it being so small it wouldn't take long with only one person. She turned to tell the Doctor to shout her when it was ready, and noticed the corner of a brown bag sticking out from one of his pockets.

"Hey, what's that?" Rose started to put her hand in his pocket, but his caught it.

"That, is nothing," he replied, still holding her hand and now leading her out of the room. "Just something else for the TARDIS. You can come back in ten minutes when I'm done." And with that, he turned on his heal and returned to the control room, leaving a curious Rose standing in the corridor.

II

Twenty minutes later, a breathless Doctor poked his head around the corridor to find Rose sitting on the floor with her eyes closed, looking very bored. He smiled mischievously and shook her shoulder gently.

"Coming to have a look, or d'you want to sit here all day?" he teased. Rose stood up and glared at him.

"Well, you took your time – ten minutes you said!" He merely grinned and stepped behind her. "What are you doing now? Doctor?" In response he placed his hands over her eyes and pushed her slowly forwards. He heard her small gasp and felt her involuntarily lean back into him at the surprise contact. At least he thought it was involuntary.

When they had reached the centre of the control room, he took a deep breath and slowly uncovered her eyes, letting his hands slip down to her arms, and remaining standing behind her.

"Oh my God," Rose whispered. The Doctor had evidently had a few more packs of lights in that box, for the entire room was adorned with multi-coloured lights that blinked and flashed. The little Christmas tree was still little, standing proudly on a table with a large golden star perched on top. And with a small parcel underneath.

Rose spun round in the Doctor's grip, an enormous smile on her face, her eyes lit up like the control room. The tree had been a surprise, but covering the control room in Christmas lights for her, when he complained she messed up 'his space' enough already, was a definite shock. As was the small present-looking parcel underneath the baby tree.

"This is absolutely fantastic, Doctor," Rose enthused, repeating his favorite word almost unconsciously. "See, it didn't kill you to be a little domestic this one time," she teased, encircling her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, loving the duel heartbeats she could feel beneath his chest.

"I s'pose I could manage once a year," the Doctor decided, reluctantly letting go of Rose. "Now, do you want your present now, or can you manage to wait until tomorrow?" Rose frowned.

"We aren't just going to go straight to Christmas Day?" she asked, pretty sure the Doctor would have wanted to get it over and done with quickly. But he feigned mock outrage.

"Everyone else has to wait, Rose Tyler, why should you be any different?" he asked, taking her hand and leading them back out to the corridor, not quite believing how much he was enjoying this. Rose didn't seem to be able to believe it either, as she suddenly stopped.

"All right, who are you, and what have you done with my Doctor?" she joked, hands on her hips. The Doctor raised his eyebrows and felt his stomach do a pleasant somersault at her words that were unintentional and probably unrealised.

"'Your Doctor' is right here, I'm just having fun, getting in the Christmas spirit," he said with a smile. She returned the gesture and replaced her hand in his, allowing herself to be led out of the room.

"So did you actually get anything for the TARDIS, or was that some more Christmas lights in your jacket?" she asked as they crossed the threshold. The Doctor gave a small chuckle at her impeccable timing and stopped them again.

"Well, you could argue that the lights and tree were for the TARDIS – she does look nice now. But no, the one in my pocket was specifically for her, so she didn't feel left out. It just so happens it works out as a pretty good present for us too," he said cryptically. At Rose's confused frown he raised his eyes upwards, hoping and praying he hadn't overstepped the mark on this one. She followed his eyes, and bit back a smile.

A sprig of mistletoe hung above the door, conveniently located directly above them.

"For the TARDIS?" she asked with a smirk, and he knew she wouldn't mind this 'present'.

"Absolutely," he replied innocently.

"She doesn't like holly or ivy or anything?"

"Too prickly and too invasive. She prefers mistletoe. Something wrong with it?"

"Nope, works for me."

"Good, now shut up," he said, silencing anything else she was about the say with his lips against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. As he began to pull away, Rose slid her hands up his arms and shoulders, lacing her fingers together at the base of his neck and pulling him down towards her again. One of his hands found her waist, whilst the other held her cheek as they continued to kiss.

"You know," Rose began as they finally parted, slightly out of breath. "You only had to ask," she finished slyly, meeting his intense blue eyes with her own. He nodded thoughtfully, not trusting himself to say anything at the moment, and before she knew it he had once again captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

II

"Merry Christmas!" Rose cried, jumping on the Doctor's carefully made bed and smiling up at him as he shrugged into his jacket.

"Don't you knock?" he muttered, shooing her off and smoothing the covers down, much to Rose's amusement.

"Nope," she grinned, the little-kid-at-Christmas feeling back again.

"Fair enough. You ready for presents?"

"Absolutely, then we're off to mum's." He nodded duly and they made their way to the control room and their baby Christmas tree.

"Here you are, Doctor, Merry Christmas," Rose said, taking the present she had placed there the night before and giving it to him. His face lit up as though he wasn't expecting anything from her, and he opened the small starry box. Inside was a book tied with red ribbon, with a star tag attached to said ribbon. He turned over the tag before taking a proper look at the book and read the message: 'To Doctor, Thank you, and merry domestic Christmas! Love, Rose x.' He took the book from the box and untied the ribbon so he could see the title.

"'A Christmas Carol'," he read, opening the brown front cover and almost dropping it in surprise. "Rose! How did you get this? How did you do this?" he asked rapidly, excitement lighting up his face. Rose smiled at his reaction to the inscription inside the front cover: 'Thank you for the help, Doctor. Best wishes, Charles Dickens – your number one fan.' He grinned manically at it for a few minutes, still unable to comprehend how they had managed to do this, before realising Rose was standing next to him, smiling at his reaction and waiting for him to do something other than stare at it.

"This is fantastic!" he said, and kissed her soundly on the lips. Then, placing his present tenderly on the table, still grinning, but now with a combination of the book and kissing Rose, he picked up the small box that sat under the tree. "Happy Christmas, Rose."

He watched, fascinated, as she carefully undid the wrapping paper and took out a small jewellery box. She glanced up nervously before opening the lid to reveal a long silver chain with her TARDIS key attached and a small, oval plaque next to the clasp.

"It's so you don't lose your key again," he explained, remembering the time they had turned her room and the control room upside down to find her lost key, only to discover it was in a deep pocket of her jeans.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the plaque. The Doctor muttered, suddenly embarrassed.

"It's, er, for an inscription. The woman at the jewellers said you could have something inscribed on it."

"Did you?" Rose enquired curiously. She couldn't imagine the Doctor asking for something to be inscribed on, but she also didn't picture him doing any of this.

"Yeah. Here." He took it out of the box and lifted it up for her to see.

"'To Rose, thank you. Forever yours, Doctor.'," she read softly, loving him more than ever just then. "Will you fasten it for me?" she asked, pulling her hair to one side and turning around. He slipped the delicate chain around her neck and secured it, and before he realised he was doing it, his hands slid down to take hers. Rose leant back into the comforting warmth of the Doctor, bringing their arms around her waist and leaning her head back on his shoulder.

"Did you notice we both said 'thank you' on our presents?" she asked sleepily as she felt his hearts beating beneath her back.

"Yes, actually. And you're welcome."

"You're welcome too," she smiled, both knowing exactly what the other meant.

"Rose?"

"Hmm?"

"Is your mum expecting us?" he asked. Rose leant her head back on his shoulder further so she could look at him better.

"Why?" she said suspiciously. "You aren't thinking of backing out now are you?"

"No, course not. It's just that if she's not expecting us, she won't mind if we're five minutes late, would she?" Rose considered this for a moment, absently stroking her hand over the Doctor's.

"No, I guess not. Why?"

"The mistletoe needs a workout," he whispered in her ear, lips brushing against the skin and sending pleasant shivers down her back.

"Absolutely," she managed, before he caused all rational thought from her brain to disappear by placing butterfly kisses up and down her jaw-line and finally on her lips. Deciding her mum and relatives could definitely wait a little bit longer, Rose deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against the Doctor's lips, seeking entry and gaining it willingly. He retaliated by tightening his hold around her waist, pulling her closer into his embrace. Finally, as she began to see dots before her closed eyes, Rose half-heartedly pulled away, taking in a grateful breath of oxygen and smiling at the Doctor's flushed face.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor."

"Merry Christmas, Rose."

And for the moment, Christmas dinner was entirely forgotten.

There you have it - Merry Christmas and a Happy Invasion:-)