My first Doctor Who fanfic! I feel strangely proud. Just a Christmas one-shot. Enjoy!

I own nothing.

"Doctor?"

No reply. Again. She had been weaving through the many TARDIS corridors for the good part of an hour and the Time Lord was no where to be seen. He had been missing since this morning. Well, at least she thought it had been the morning. It felt like morning. She had woken up and eaten breakfast, so surely - or theoretically, at least - that would prove it to be morning. However, when travelling throughout time and space in a blue police box, one could never be one-hundred percent sure.

Stepping around yet another corner, she realised that she had reached the library. She had started in the library. Great. It appeared that she was just going around in circles! Damn this time machine and damn that Time Lord. Did he honestly take pleasure in being so elusive all the bloody time? Sucking in a deep breath, she decided on one last try.

"DOCTOOOO-"

"Pond!" He barked and she whipped around to see his head peeking around the door of the aforementioned library. "What's wrong?"

"Where have you been? Look, me and Rory were thinking of-"

"Oh, my dearest Amelia," He interrupted with a silly grin and a roll of his eyes. She cocked an eyebrow at him in response and gestured for him to continue. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Doctor, we're in a time machine."

"Indeed we are, Pond."

"Well, then, how can it be a day? We don't even have a set time! After Rory's alarm clock exploded when he brought it on board, I kind of figured we were in limbo here."

"Organisation!" He cried and Amy jumped in response, placing a hand over her heart. "That's the key, Pond. I have a calendar."

"You have a calendar?" She smirked. "Doctor, you are the most disorganised person- alien... Time Lord... Look, whatever. The point is that you haven't got an organised bone in your body."

"On the contrary, I do rather enjoy keeping track of Earth days. Especially after that small incident I encountered with good old Queen Bess... Never a good idea to- yes, well, anyway!"

"So, what day is it?" Amy asked as he cleared his throat and tweaked his bow-tie.

"It's the first of December, Pond!"

"And?" She furrowed her eyebrows as he beamed over the seemingly important revelation.

"Come on, Pond. Don't tell me you've never had a Christmas card list?"

"You're writing out a Christmas card list? You? But, you know everyone. Literally. It must take you all day- well, not that we really have days, I mean... well, it must take you a long time."

"No, no, no! You've got it all wrong, Pond!" He rolled his eyes and stepped out from under the door frame to grab a hold of her shoulders and guide her inside the library. She audibly gasped as she laid eyes upon the endless supply of Christmas cards he had piled high in front of the fire. "I wrote out my Christmas card list at least three months ago. Now I just need to write them all out!" He explained, gesturing to the hoard.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Why would I joke?"

"But this will take you forever. Do you honestly do this every year?"

"Of course I do it every year, Pond! It's Christmas!" He flopped down onto the floor before the fire and took hold of a scroll, holding it for her to take. "My list."

"Oh my God." She choked out as she unrolled the parchment and watched it fall to the floor. "No wonder you start on the first of December. So, you actually send Christmas cards to every single name on this list?"

"Yes!" He assured.

"Winston Churchill, Charles Dickens, Marilyn Monroe – didn't you marry her last Christmas?" She snickered.

"Hush, Pond." He scowled, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

"Paul McCartney... Oh, you have all of the Beatles on here... The Minister of Clom?"

"Yes, charming fellow. Very polite. Always asks for permission before absorbing you-"

"What?" Her eyes widened and she stared, wide eyed, at him. He simply grinned in response.

"Abzorbaloff. One touch and that's it. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'two become one'. You should see the weddings. They do tend to get messy. We should go, I'll take you."

"I think I'll pass, thanks." She shook the nasty thought from her mind and turned back to the list in her hands. "Christopher Biggins?"

"Blimey, haven't seen him in a while."

"You know Christopher Biggins?"

"Of course I know Christopher Biggins." He replied, giving her a look as if it was the most obvious piece of information in the world- universe. "He's a lovely chap. Though I do not recommend accepting any invitation he may offer to a New Year's Eve party. I had nightmares for weeks."

"Rolph Harris? Doctor, really?"

"What?" He exclaimed.

"The Face of Boe?"

"Oh, now I really do need to take you to meet him! Remind me when I have these cards finished."

"Who is he?"

"An old friend of mine. A very old friend. According to legend he's over a million years old. I thought that was impossible..." He seemed to smile sadly as she watched him reminisce. "Until I found out who he was."

"Why, who is he?"

"Like I said. A good old friend."

"Okay..." She dropped the subject. It seemed the best thing to do. "Henry VIII, Agatha Christie, Martha Smith- she travelled with you, right?"

"Yes, Martha Jones. She fancied me... She's married now. To Mickey Smith, used to travel with me too. Before Martha, mind you. Really happy now, both of them."

"Barack Obama?" She laughed. "Martin Luther King, Ood? How specific..."

"I was going to send a card to them all. But, they don't have names. And there are hundreds of them... And, honestly, I'm getting old here. So, I thought it best to just send one and address it to them all."

"Father Christmas? That's impossible. Doctor, are you trying to tell me that Santa is real?"

"Of course Father Christmas is real! Who do you think puts your presents under the tree every year? They don't just appear there by magic, Pond." He shook his head. "I worked with old Saint Nick a couple of decades ago. He was in such a panic, all the reindeer had fallen ill on Christmas Eve, it was only natural that I would let him use my TARDIS."

"So, what? You saved Christmas?" She asked sceptically.

"Yes, Pond, I saved Christmas. And I've got to say, that dolls house you asked for when you were six was a lot heavier than it looked!"

"Oh my God, you're not joking..."

"Look, are you going to help me with these or not? Only twenty-four days to go now. Get a move on!"

Taking another glance at the enormous pile of cards, Amy sighed and shook her head, smiling slightly at the Time Lord who, she was sure, was just a five year old kid stuck inside a grown mans body.

"Fine," She agreed. "But I think we're going to need Rory's help too."

"Good idea, Pond! We can put the Christmas music on and have a good old sing-song."

"Oh, Doctor..." She laughed.

"What?"

"Merry Christmas." She smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Pond."