All I Want for Christmas

ann no aku

Plot: One shot in-between Series III and Series IV (no Voyage of the Damned). Similar to Voyage of the Damned in that the Doctor is on board a ship for a Christmas cruise, and asks Santa for what he thinks he really wants.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or the song "All I Want for Christmas".

Author's Note: The timeline of this story assumes that Journey's End happened in 2008.

*****

There are only a handful of things the Doctor loathes, truly hates, despite his longevity. One of those things was wearing a tuxedo, and another was Christmas. Of course, one could also include Daleks, a lack of bananas (oh, how he hated visiting Japan when the banana diet was popular!), himself (he did destroy his own world and people, after all), and death of any kind. So, the Doctor wasn't very happy to find himself dressed in a tuxedo at a Christmas party where not a singe banana was evident. If only he hadn't entered the date wrong in the TARDIS. Then he'd only in a tux. But at least it wouldn't be Christmas and that he'd have a banana.

I even got the place wrong, too, it looks like, he thought. This really can't be where the world's largest banana is being honored, not in 2010. And most definitely not on a skyline cruise above Earth, either!

"Martini, Sir?" a waiter asked, balancing a heavily laden tray with one hand.

"Oh, it's not 'sir'," the Doctor corrected without thinking. "But, I don't suppose you can make a banana martini, can you?" He stuck a finger in his collar in an attempt to loosen it.

"Of course, Sir!"

"Again, no 'sir'. With real bananas?"

The server eyed him curiously. "I have real banana liquor. Will that do, Sir?"

"No, no. Forget it." He waved the man away impatiently. "It's Christmas, I'm wearing a suit, and I can't even have a banana." The Doctor turned back to the man, half-surprised to see him still standing there. "Banana pudding? Banana bread? Chocolate covered bananas?"

"Sir, bananas are not a winter fruit. There is absolutely nothing in this room with bananas in it—real bananas, except the banana liquor."

"Just my luck. I thought Christmas was supposed to be about peace on Earth, love, and getting what you want. Well, apart from the birth of Jesus, of course."

"Of course," the waiter agreed.

"And I want a banana. I'm not asking for the impossible—to snow in an unlikely place so I can have a white Christmas, a pony (took me ages to get rid of the last one, and it found me!), or even to win the lottery! Is a banana so . . .impossible?!"

"'Fraid it is, Sir."

"Thought so." He took a martini only to pop the olive into his mouth, then returned the full drink back to the tray.

"However, it is Christmas."

"Don't remind me."

"Look over there." The waiter pointed to the corner where a long queue was formed. "You could always ask St. Nick for a banana."

"Santa Claus? You have got to be joking! That's for kids!" The Doctor pointed and laughed loudly.

"Look again," he commanded.

Reluctantly, the Doctor took a second peek. Everyone in the queue was an adult. There were no children at the party. "I'm sorry, Glean," he read the name off his nametag. "Glean,Glean . . . .what sort of name is Glean? Sounds like a lavatory disinfectant! Anyway, I am way too old to sit on Santa's lap."

Glean considered him for a moment. "Well, Glean is far better than having no name at all, isn't it?" Before the Doctor could respond, he continued. "I do see a man who looks to be about twice your age."

"Looks can be deceiving," he retorted with a snort.

"And don't I know it! You have nothing to lose, Doctor, by sitting on his lap except for what you may have asked for and didn't receive."

"How do you know my name? I didn't tell you-"

"It's hardly your name, is it? Just a title you have people call you. Go ahead, Doctor, give it a try."

"Who are you?" The Doctor studied the penguin suit clad man, observing nothing special or unique about him. The server was just that.

"Someone trying to help the man whom will spend eternity atoning for the one action he had to take to end the war that still wages in the stars." Without another word, Glean disappeared into the crowd.

"Lange!" a voice called out. "Another round on me to celebrate my new fiancée!"

"He got what he wanted!" a different person said, laughing with the congratulatory group.

"I just want a banana," the Doctor whined, "then I'd only be suffering from two evils." Out of pure curiosity, he joined the queue. He almost stepped out several times because he felt silly, but he couldn't quite forget what Glean had said.

"You have nothing to lose, Doctor, by sitting on his lap except for what you may have asked for and didn't receive."

What harm was there in asking Santa for a banana?

"Do you know what you're going to ask for?" the woman in front of him inquired, turning to face him. The Doctor instantly noticed the frantic look on her slightly green face.

"Yes."

"Oh, I'm so nervous!" she admitted with a shy smile. "I heard he only grants a few wishes a year. That's why it's so hard to come on the Christmas Cruise, you see. I've spent the past six months trying to perfect my wish ever since I found out I was chosen!"

"Chosen?" he dumbly repeated, again trying to loosen the collar around his neck.

"Yes! Did you actually," she lowered her voice and leaned in to him, "buy your ticket?"

"Well, you know . . ."he stalled.

"I have wanted nothing more than to get chosen so my wish could come true. They do come true, you know!"

"If you are chosen to come on this cruise," the Doctor began, "then why are only a few of the wishes granted? Why not everyone's?"

The woman looked as though he told her that Santa wasn't real. She stepped back, covering her trembling mouth with her thin fingers.

"You're not even human!" he continued. "Christmas is a Christian holiday! Not even all humans celebrate Christmas!"

She continued to stare at him, scandalized. Her brilliant blue eyes were wide with fear and revulsion. "You don't have to be human to have faith," she said after finally being able to find her voice. "When you have nothing, Sir, there is always faith. What do you believe in?"

"Myself," he curtly replied. "I've seen no proof otherwise." The Doctor thought of all the worlds he'd visited, all the times he'd been, and all the people he'd met. Nothing, in both science and experience, led him to believe in much of anything.

"I don't understand," she confessed with a slight tremor in her voice. "How can you be chosen when you don't believe?"

But he was saved from answering. It was the woman's turn next. She shot the Doctor a quick look before bounding up the steps to the platform where a large, ornate gold chair sat in the middle. Sitting in the chair was such an ideal depiction of Santa Claus that the Doctor found him almost eerie. He seemed to emit a glow of cheer and happiness.

"Ah, Aurelie of Chestius!" the jolly man greeted, a large grin on his pink face. "I've been expecting to see you!"

"Really?" she squeaked. "Why?"

"Oh, I know what you want!" Santa shook a gloved, knowing finger at her. "You've been very good, Aurelie, very good indeed."

"T-Thank you!" she stammered, tears brimming in her eyes.

"No need to thank me." He kissed her on the cheek. "Off you go! I've many others to see!" He winked one twinkling eye at her. "May your Christmas wish come true, love!"

"Next!" came the voice of an oddly happy looking elf named Galen.

"That's me," the Doctor announced to no one in particular. He lost his footing as Galen yanked him by the arm and dragged him up the platform.

"Oh ho! Doctor, I've been wondering when you'd come." Santa patted his knee, silently urging the Doctor to sit.

"I'm not going to," but he was roughly forced onto the man's lap. "Sit," he lamely finished.

"You've been very good, Doctor. You've refused to kill, let die, and ask for nothing in return. So, I will ask you what you want."

Instead of asking the obvious questions of how Santa knew so much about him immediately, the Doctor decided to play along to see how it would all pan out. "I just want a banana!"

"Yes, but a banana won't prove anything. You need proof that these Christmas wishes come true. A banana wouldn't satisfy you."

"No, really. All I want is a banana!" he insisted with a bit of vehemence as he tried to get up. It made him uncomfortable that Santa and Glean were so knowledgeable whereas he was left in the dark. "Who are you, anyway? Why do you mislead these people, give them false hope?"

"It's Christmas, Doctor, and the time for miracles. When you have nothing left to live for, why not have hope?"

The question struck him as ominous. The woman Aurelie had said something similar. What was wrong with these people?

"I have raised many questions in you. Go and enjoy the party," Santa ordered, gently nudging him off his lap. "You may find what you really want." He winked and smiled as though having some secret joke.

Ten minutes later, the Doctor was still without a banana and had to resort to popping more olives from martinis, then giving in and drinking a couple of them.

"Did someone order a banana?" The voice was familiar, but all the Doctor could see at first was a tray with the single fruit on it—just one. Why couldn't he have asked for a whole bunch?

He found the face of the server and his hearts stopped in his chest. "Rose," he gasped. "How?"

She tossed the tray aside and threw herself into his arms. "I've missed you," she said through her tears.

"Quite right," he found himself replying as he smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I've missed you, too."

"I can't believe it's only been two years."

"Has it?" He wasn't sure that was right. Hadn't it been longer? Three years or so since he had lost her to a parallel universe?

"Yeah." Rose pulled back and the Doctor was even more surprised to find her in formal wear and her blonde hair up in an elegant knot.

"This isn't possible. You're in a parallel dimension." Characteristically, he ran his hands through his hair.

"It's Christmas," she replied as though that explained everything.

Her answer made him step back. "You're not real. You're not Rose."

"Ask me anythin'; somethin' only I would know but you know is true." She wasn't upset at his refusal to trust her. She accepted it. When he didn't immediately reply, Rose continued. "I keep thinkin' that I'm dreamin' or somethin'. I'm gonna wake up tomorrow, go to work and think I dreamt all this. But it's Christmas, yeah? And we saved the world on Christmas."

"Yes, we did," he agreed, a smile erupting on his face.

"Look, Doctor," she held up a hand. "I don' know how I got here or anythin'," she laughed uncomfortably, "I don' really believe I am here, wherever here is-"

"You're on a space cruise," he interrupted, "above Earth. I'm celebrating Christmas with a bunch of non-humans. Very strange, that."

She giggled again, then smiled his smile—the one with her tongue between her teeth. "Could be worse. Mum has her hands full with Tony."

"Who?"

"My brother, remember? When you said," Rose swallowed, "Anyway, he's four now."

"I remember."

"Do you, er, still want that banana?" she teased, picking it up and dangling it in front of him.

"I already have what I want."

*****

For hours, they spoke, caught up, ate, and drank. The music changed to something slow, and rose lured him out to the floor. She wrapped his arms around her waist and slipped her own about his neck. As she did this, he noticed the rings on her hand. He had felt them as she had taken his hands in hers.

"You look great in a tux."

"I hate them. I try never to wear them."

"I know. 'Bad luck', you say." For a reason unknown to him, the statement had her in a fit of silent giggles.

"Did I say that?

"Yeah." Rose studied him curiously for a moment.

"Rose Tyler, I am telling you, the Doctor in a tuxedo is bad luck!"

"You're John Smith now, and you're my fiancée!" Her voice was firm. "An' you're wearing a tux!"

"You sound like your mum."

"Brave words," she hissed. "Need I remind you that I killed the emperor of the Daleks?"

He gulped. "Nope! Tux it is, then!"

"I couldn't help but to notice," he carefully began after a minute. "You're married?"

The question had her smiling. "Yeah, 'm married."

"Well, go on! What's the new last name?" He tried to act jovial, but the Doctor felt jealous of stranger husband.

"Smith."

"You married Mickey?!" he exclaimed, halting in their dance.

Wha'? No, he's . . .it's not Mickey." A strange look shadowed her face for a second. She quickly recovered, smiling again.

"He-He's not . . .?"

"No, no. He's fine, I think. We don' talk much now."

"Right." The Doctor swallowed and forced his usual manic grin. "Well, is he as good looking as I am?"

"You could say that."

"So, I suppose you won't want to go on one last adventure, Rose Tyler?" He caught himself. "Well, Rose Smith."

"It's okay. He won' mind if I went with you one more time."

"Really?" He stopped their dance and gripped her arms. He finally had Rose again—beautiful, in his arms, and she was married. The Doctor looked at her, truly looked at her, breathless at the sight. Rose was dressed in a simple, elegant black dress with diamond studs in her ears and a solitaire diamond at the hollow of her throat. He had never seen her more womanly and more beautiful.

"What?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was just thinking," he gulped, "About that banana! Where is it?"

*****

It was nearing midnight. Christmas Day was quickly approaching. "Doctor," Rose started, "I only have a few more minutes, I think."

"What?" he sputtered.

They were sitting at a table, both exhausted from all their dancing and talking. "I can't go with you this time. I-I wan' to an' all, but I don' see how I can."

"Rose." He squeezed her hand. "I never got to tell you-"

"Doctor, don't," she protested.

I don't want a lot for Christmas, there's just one thing I need

"Thank you, Rose, for giving me a reason to live."

I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree

Tears stung her eyes.

"You saved me."

I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know

Without a moment's hesitation, Rose kissed the Doctor full on the lips, her hands tangled in his hair.

Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you

He kissed her back with as much fervor, uncaring that Rose Smith (neé Tyler) was a married woman. Once they broke free, he managed to ask, "What about-?"

"He understands." She held his face, pain written all over hers. "Goodbye, Doctor."

"Rose, I'm so sorry. I . . I'll never see you-"

"Yes, you will," she sniffed.

"It's impossible-!"

"But I'll never see you again, not like this."

Before he could ask Rose what she meant, she vanished in front of him in a flash of brilliant gold. He was shocked to find a tear streaming down his face.

*****

"Did your wish come true?" St. Nick inquired later that morning.

"I got my banana, if that is what you mean," he snapped.

"Ho ho! Not quite, Doctor. Did you like my gift to you—the one thing that you truly wanted?"

He choked on his drink. "That was you?!"

"Of course!" Santa chuckled and took the Doctor by the shoulder. He lead him to a quiet corner; the party was slowly clearing. "The people on this ship are doomed, Doctor. Each will suffer a tragic fate in the near future. I choose these people to give them a chance at happiness before they die."

"No one is that powerful! You can't just grant wishes! Pull people from parallel dimensions! You aren't a genie!"

"Aren't I?" His voice was somber, old. "As I said, Doctor, everyone here is doomed. Everyone aboard this ship was chosen. Well, except those greedy ones who buy their tickets."

"You mean me? Am I doomed?"

"Very soon for you, Doctor, you will be split in two. Shortly after that, a tragic fate will be bestowed upon you. Because you are a time traveler, I have no qualms about telling you all this. You will find out sooner or later. 'Your song will end soon', I'm afraid." He smiled warmly, his blue eyes twinkling with the reflection of the stars. "Happy Christmas."

*****

Epilogue

Rose appeared in the kitchen where she hadn't been when she had vanished over three hours ago. She had been at her parents' mansion, then. How had that happened anyway? The house was eerily quiet after the noisy party, which was much better than the Christmas party her parents had thrown. In the distance, the tree's lights blinked and lit up the foyer. She followed them, memories of the Doctor still fresh in her mind.

"Welcome home," her husband greeted, dressed not in a tuxedo but a flannel bathrobe over plaid pyjamas and slippers.

"Doc—John!" she gasped. "What 'appened?"

"You were all I wanted for Christmas." He grinned. "Well, and a banana."

"Is that why you put banana on your list every year?"

"Makes me think of you. You were so beautiful that night, and I never told you." He looked at her, still dressed like she was that night three years ago. "But I can tell you now." He took her hands and pulled her close to him. John Smith kissed her. "Happy Christmas, Rose."

"Happy Christmas."

*****

I hope you liked this story! If so, please leave a review.

~ann no aku