Work Text:
Every human
In London
Liked Christmas a lot
But the Doctor, who lived in the TARDIS, did NOT
The Doc hated Christmas
And he had his reasons
For why he found Christmas
So very displeasin'
You may think his head wasn't screwed on quite right
Or maybe his Converse were laced up too tight
But his friends said that ever since Gallifrey's fall
Both of his hearts were two sizes too small.
BUT...
In spite of the state
Of his hearts or his shoes
He stood there on Christmas Eve, dreading the news
Staring up at the stars with a sour, angry frown
He wondered who, this year, would prey on the town
Would fall on the humans in London beneath
In ignorance hanging their mistletoe wreaths
“And hanging their stockings!” he moaned in fear
“But tomorrow is Christmas, it's practically here!”
He growled at the time rotor's unhappy humming
“I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!”
For the humans, he knew
In most aliens' eyes
Were things to be played with, naught but a prize!
And Cybermen, Sycorax, Daleks and Gelth
Attacked every Christmas, with minimal stealth
The ignorant humans would sit down to feast
As the skies above filled with these horrible beasts
They'd feast on plum pudding
And pull Christmas crackers
Wrapped up in unwrapping their presents — the slackers!
And THEN
They'd do something he liked least of all
Any creature o'er London, no matter how small
Would cackle with glee when they heard the bells ringing
And swoop down on the Earth
Songs of conquest all singing
And they'd pillage! And loot!
And they'd loot loot loot loot!
And they'd subjugate humans, the miserable brutes!
And the more the Doc thought of the doom Christmas brings
The more the Doc thought “I must stop all these things!
Why, for nine hundred years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!
...but HOW?!”
Then he got an idea
A brilliant idea
The Doc
Got a horrible, brilliant idea!
“I know just what to do!” the Doc laughed in his throat
And dug through the wardrobe for a new hat and coat
And he chuckled and hummed, “What a fantastic trick!
With this hat and this coat, I'll look just like Saint Nick!
All I need is a reindeer...”
The Doc looked around
But of course, in London, there were none to be found
But did that stop the Doc?
No! The Doc simply said
“If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!”
He grasped his screwdriver and called K-9 from his bed
Then soniced some antlers on top of his head
THEN
He tied empty sacks
And some bags up with twine
On a ramshackle sleigh
And he hitched up K-9
“Allon-sy!” cried the Doc
As the sleigh started down
“Affirmative!” said K-9
As he pulled toward the town.
All the windows were dark, humans slept without care
Unknowing of dangers that lurked in the air
When he came to the very first flat on the square
“This is stop number one” the Doc quietly hissed
As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist
Then he slid down the chimney with nary a stop
- if Santa could do it, then so could the Doc
He wiggled and thrashed for a moment or two
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue
Where the cute little stockings all hung in a row
“These stockings,” he groused, “ humans hang up for show!”
Then he crept and he snuck, with a smile most unpleasant
Around the whole room, and he took every present!
Liqour and board games, new mobile phones!
Jewelry, satsumas, and chocolate trombones!
He stuffed them in bags. Then the Doc, very nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimbly.
Then he slunk to the icebox and took Jackie's feast
(stashing jams jars in his pockets, not last but least)
He cleaned out that kitchen in the blink of an eye
Even taking the last of the cold stale pork pies.
Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee
“Now,” snickered the Doc, “I will stuff up the tree”
The Doc grabbed the tree and had started to push
When he felt a small hand as it patted his tush
He turned around fast and he saw a small blonde
Who grinned at his bum that she'd laid her hand on
The Doc had been caught by this young human lass
Who'd crept out of her bed and had then grabbed his.... behind
She grinned at the Doc with her tongue poking out
And said “Tell me what's going' on, bloke, or I'll shout!”
Now the Doctor was very old and quite slick
so he thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick
“I'm inspecting the trees; this one's not up to muster!
It's an awful disgrace,” he continued to bluster
With a flick of his wrist psychic paper flipped out
“I'm John Smith, tree inspector!” he proclaimed with a shout.
“Quiet,” she hissed, fingers still on his bum
“Unless you were hoping to wake up my mum?”
The thought of her mum gave the Doc quite a fright
The blood drained from his face, left his skin paper white
Then, brushing her fingers away from his rear,
He turned and leaned down, and he hissed in her ear
“Each Christmas in London, some monster comes down
To wreak their destruction on folks of this town
Each year they have tried this, and wrecked the whole season!
So I've got to stop Christmas — you see? I've got reason!”
The girl tipped her head as she pondered the Doc
The room was quiet silent, save for the clock
Then she stepped forward, her nightgown a-sway
And she spoke as she backed him into the doorway
“But humans need Christmas, to show our devotion
To fellowship, love, and other such notions.
If monsters should come, then why not let me help?”
The Doc's back hit the door frame and he gave a small yelp
He sniffed in disdain at the words that she said
But the young girl, still grinning, pointed over his head
The Doc craned his neck to see where she pointed
At the arch'ed doorway with mistletoe annointed
He swallowed and looked down, meeting her eyes
The look that he saw there was quite a surprise.
“Now l-look, I'm not human,” he croaked like a frog
She said “I don't care, mate” and gave him a snog
Her kiss shot right through him and tingled his toes
Then she stepped back and blushed and said
“Er, hi...my name's Rose”
Then he grinned at the lass as he said with a leer
“First time I've liked Christmas in nine hundred years!”
He reached out his arm and took hold of her hand,
“Rose, my name's the Doctor, and I quite like your plan.”
He returned all the presents and re-lit the tree
Then whispered “Rose Tyler, you're coming with me!”
And what happened then?
Well in London they say
That the Doctor's small hearts grew three sizes that day!
And the minute his hearts didn't feel quite so tight
He whisked Rose to the TARDIS and they faded from sight
And the last, fading sound as the time rotor hummed
Was a low, silky whisper
“Why, don't you want to come?”