My True Love Gave To Me
By Melissa (dettiot)
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Jackie
Setting: Post-Fear Her.
Betas: leighleighla and clevermonikerr were great cheerleaders for this story as I wrote it. manticoran did a wonderful job betaing this huge story with very little time; thank you so much!
Summary: Christmas is a time for getting your heart's desire. Sometimes, the gift you truly want most can't be wrapped in pretty paper and bows.
Author's Note: Absolute fluff, written for waxingobscure, as part of the time_x_space Christmas ficathon. The prompts were needing a last-minute gift for a major character, Baby's First Christmas for the child of the Doctor and Rose, and/or carolling. See if I fit them all in. :-) Additional author's notes at the end.

Part 1


The Doctor almost gave into the urge to whistle as he walked towards the elegant fourth-floor restaurant, a green plastic Harrods bag swinging from his hand. He had been . . . slightly exaggerating when he told Rose he already had a gift for her. Well, he did have a gift, but it wasn't one he was ready to give her. Not yet, really. Of course, there was nothing that said one couldn't give one's best friend/traveling companion a necklace of Gallifreyan crystal. Girls liked jewelry, he knew that much, and he knew that Rose would love anything he gave her. Well, pretty sure. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to explain to her the significance of that particular gift.

So, he had wandered around Harrods, stopping to look at all the different things that had caught his fancy: dresses covered with sequins and feathers and other strange objects; old maps that gave him a chuckle at their inaccuracies; the latest children's bestseller that wasn't a patch on Harry Potter. But none of them seemed right for Rose, and certainly not for Jackie.

Then, he had spied the perfect gift. Beautiful and feminine, strong and powerful: everything that Rose was to him. And to make it even better, it wasn't obvious or cliched like jewelry or perfume or lingerie . . . and not only was that completely inappropriate, it wasn't even practical for him to be thinking about giving her lingerie. He shuddered at the thought of the slap Jackie would give him, when they were opening gifts and she saw what he had given her only child.

He resolutely focused on the completing the purchase of Rose's gift, ignoring any thought of her, him, and underwear. He sensed that the hour was nearly up, and he felt his hearts leap when he paused at the doorway to the restaurant and saw Rose standing inside, turned sideways to look out the window.

As he reached her side, he softly said, "Hello," feeling a strange shyness. Perhaps it was the bag at his side, with the wrapped present inside, that made him feel like a tongue-tied teenager. Or perhaps it was how pretty she looked, or how her eyes sparkled when she saw him. Whatever it was, this feeling was . . . indescribable.

"Hello," she said happily. "Oooo, found something?"

"Yes, and you're not going to get a peek," he said, quickly slipping the bag into the pocket of his coat. She pouted a bit, and he was both amused and attracted. "I know you, Rose Tyler: you're the sort that cheats."

"Like you aren't, either," she said cheekily.

He ignored her and looked at her hands. "I see only one bag. What, was I not a good boy this year?"

Rose opened her mouth to respond, then stopped. She spent a long moment looking at his face, and he felt a blush begin to rise in his cheeks. When her gaze flicked down over him and then returned to his face, he swallowed hard.

Her eyes dropped from his face as she spoke. "I think Father Christmas is still deciding whether you've been naughty or nice," she said, her voice low and . . . well, if he was reading about this conversation in a book, it'd be described as 'seductive.' Although, clearly, there was no chance he'd be reading about something like this, and it was more likely that Rose was starting to get a cold, and the congestion was causing her voice to sound strange. Yes, that was it exactly. And he most definitely was not thinking about being naughty with Rose.

He felt his mouth go dry as he tried to come up with something to say. Fortunately, Rose carried on in a more normal tone of voice. "Actually, your gift is waiting down at the gift wrap place. Didn't want to cart it around--after all, that's what you're for," she said with a smile.

He groaned but reached out to grab her hand, pulling her towards the maitre d'. "Come on, I'm starving."

"Of course you are," she said with a laugh, squirming slightly when he reached out and tickled her side.

A flash of the psychic paper later, they were seated at a small round table. The two of them chatted happily, discussing shoes and ships and subatomic particles, as they ordered their tea and waited for it to arrive. The pot of tea was accompanied by two three-level trays, one with elegant sandwiches and the other with various pastries and sweets. He had noticed a look of trepidation on Rose's face when the trays were set down, and he paused in his initial study of their contents. "Don't worry, Rose, I'll let you get a few mouthfuls," he said cheerfully.

He thought she muttered something, but he was too focused on deciding which to have first: a small cucumber sandwich or a heavenly-looking scone. With a shrug, he took both, then looked up at her. "What did you take?" he asked, craning around the trays to see what was on her plate.

"Don't worry, there's plenty for you still," she said, lifting her plate a bit so he could see the two sandwiches and the petit four. She went back to fixing her tea and then took a long sip. "Mmmm," she said, closing her eyes, "that's just right."

He lifted his cup to his lips, hiding behind it for a moment. He enjoyed the taste, the warmth spreading through him, and sighed contentedly. "Really, you lot did a good job with tea. Until you came along and thought to drink it, tea leaves were an accessory--people wore them like flowers in their lapels."

She giggled at him, and he felt a wave of delight pass over him. It wasn't a new feeling, this blissful contentedness. In fact, most days he felt it several times, whenever Rose laughed or smiled at him, whenever she touched him, even when she yelled at him for taking the hot water heaters off-line when she was in the shower. It made him feel giddy and carefree and . . . happy.

With a sigh, he finished his tea and poured another cup, gesturing towards her with the pot. She nodded, and he refilled her cup as she told him a story involving Christmas dinner, her extended family, a large mince pie, and the next-door neighbor's dog. And as he watched her face, and listened to her voice, he wondered what he had done to be so lucky. And he wondered how long his luck would last.

***

As they entered the TARDIS, the Doctor heaved a sigh. "Contrary to all logic and reason, I think this bag got heavier and more unwieldy the longer I carried it, which is especially unfair, considering the circumstances," he said, dropping the bag containing her present to him on the jump seat.

Rose grinned at him, amused by his boyish complaints. He had been voicing protests over carrying his own present since they had picked it up from the gift wrap station. "If you're trying to get me to give you a hint, it won't work."

He made a face at her before turning to the console. "So, shopping all done, and now it's time for our final stop on the Merry Christmas tour."

"I make that only the second stop. Not much of a tour if there's only two stops, is it?"

He waved a hand in the air, punching in coordinates with the other. "When you can cram so much Christmas spirit and fun into two stops, who would quibble over the number of destinations?"

"Oh, not me," she teased, moving aside the bags to sit on the jump seat. He grinned at her, and Rose leaned back, enjoying the sight of him bounding around the console, adjusting those normal-looking switches and dials that took them to the most extraordinary places. She remembered her words to him, on that sanctuary base when they thought the TARDIS was gone. He had been so lost, and she had wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. And her words had shocked him. She could tell that he really didn't think he had anything to offer other than the whole of time and space.

She bit her lip, hoping that she'd have the time to convince him that it was traveling with him that made it all so amazing and wonderful and fantastic. She thought it might take a lifetime to make him see that.

She sighed, and the Doctor looked up at her. "All right there?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Rose nodded. "Yeah," she said, giving herself a shake. "Just thinking."

"Anything in particular?" he asked, an intrigued look on his face.

She grinned. "That's for me to know and you . . . not to know."

He frowned and stuck his tongue out at her. Rose giggled and returned the gesture, wiggling her tongue a bit for good measure. The Doctor smiled, his gaze roaming over her face for a moment, before hitting a button and saying, "Right! Christmas Eve, eggnog and family and oooo, A Charlie Brown Christmas! Love that one. Especially the music." He began humming under his breath as he came around the console and grabbed her hand, pulling her off the jump seat.

She followed him at a fast clip as he tugged her down the ramp, waiting for him to throw open the doors. Instead, he gestured for her to go first. She grinned and stepped out, unable to prevent a small squeal from escaping her when she saw the estate.

"Oh, this is great!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheek. She pulled away, jumping up and down. "I can't wait to see Mum--I'm going to go get my laundry."

The Doctor cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets and taking a few steps back from her. "Sure you want to give your mum your dirty clothes for Christmas?"

Rose waved her hand in the air. "If I bring her my laundry, she feels needed. And at Christmas, it's always nice to feel needed. Besides, I got her the perfume, and a few other bits and bobs too--they're in my room."

"Ahh," he said. "Well, chop-chop, get your things. If we don't show up within five minutes of Jackie hearing the TARDIS, she'll think I'm keeping you trapped inside my alien spaceship, doing horrible things to you." He scuffed a foot across the ground, not meeting her eyes.

She turned to head into the TARDIS, but paused, wondering at his sudden change in mood. Normally, he'd be bouncing with her. Not that he got that excited about seeing her mother, but her feelings usually rubbed off on him and vice versa. But now, he seemed . . . well, stiff. It was strange, to see him acting so reserved and distracted. She laid a hand on his arm. "Don't you have stuff to get? Like . . . presents?"

The Doctor gazed at her for a long moment, his expression dreamy. She looked up at him, confused by his behavior, and then he said, "Presents . . . " in a voice that indicated some kind of dawning realization. As she watched, he closed his eyes and said, "Oh, bugger."

Rose practically gasped in shock. In all the time she'd spent with the Doctor, she had never heard him curse. Not even when they were in that dungeon on Lathernia Prime and he'd lost the sonic screwdriver and his jacket had gotten ripped and she'd sprained her ankle.

"Doctor?" she said, taking a step closer to him. "What's wrong?"

He ran his hands through his hair, looking harried. "I forgot to get your mum a present."

She stared at him as he started pacing and mumbling, practically tearing his hair out. "Um, Doctor?" He stopped and looked at her. "I was just teasing you earlier--you don't really have to get Mum a gift."

"But I do have to get her a gift!" he insisted. "You do that for the mother of your--"

He stopped in mid-sentence, then continued as if he hadn't stopped. "I'd just hate to show up without a gift for her. Make me feel like a bad guest. See, I'm not always rude . . . although I'm never ginger," he said, his voice fast and high-pitched. "Why don't you go up and visit with your mum for a bit, I'll pop down to the shops and pick something up for her, and then Bob's your uncle."

"Ooookay," Rose said. "All right, see you in a bit?" She turned to walk into the TARDIS, but felt the Doctor take her hand and pull her towards him. She turned right into his arms. He squeezed her tightly for a moment, his cheek resting against hers, and she felt a bit overwhelmed, almost dizzy.

He released her quickly, giving her a weak smile. "Back in a jiff!" And with that, he practically scampered away, walking quickly across the courtyard towards the small cluster of shops that lined the road.

Rose watched him walk away and then shrugged. She wasn't sure if it was a case of him being an alien or being a bloke, but hopefully once he had a gift for her mum, he'd be back to his usual old self. She grinned at the thought of her daft Doctor, and then entered the TARDIS to collect her things.

***

The Doctor could think about lots of things at one time: it was one of the benefits of his ultra-efficient Time Lord brain. He could do spatio-temporal calculus in his head, while analyzing nine different chemicals, and still have plenty of brainpower left to ponder what he wanted for lunch.

So why, out of all the things he could be thinking on, was he solely and exclusively focused on the sensation of Rose's lips on his cheek?

He frowned and walked a bit faster. It wasn't like it meant anything. She had no idea that she had done it, or the effect she'd had on him. Best friends kissed each other on the cheek. He could walk up to her the next time he saw her, brush a kiss across her soft, smooth, lightly-fragranced skin . . . and it would be just a kiss between friends.

With a scoff, he slowed down, ambling his way down the streets as he looked into shop windows. But he wasn't really noticing anything, because he was still too caught up in thoughts of Rose's lips.

For all their hand-holding, for all their hugging, they had never kissed. Well, he had kissed her before, but since he had been busy trying to extract the Time Vortex from her, he hadn't had much of an opportunity to gauge vital details like how she liked to be kissed and just how sweet her kiss was. Besides, his senses were so much sharper in this incarnation; they craved information from his eyes and ears and nose and skin. And when it came to Rose, they certainly wanted to learn her with his lips.

He sighed and walked into a shop, idly looking at various products for sale. Being kissed by Cassandra in Rose's body had been a pale imitation of what he really wanted. He didn't think Rose would grab his head like that; he greatly doubted she'd use quite the same amount of force in shoving her tongue down his throat. And frankly, he had been so shocked that he hadn't even thought about getting answers to all the questions he had about kissing Rose until it was too late.

They had been getting closer and closer, especially since Mickey had stayed behind in the parallel universe. At this point, he didn't know if they could be any closer, have a better relationship . . . without taking that step. To stop pretending that friendship was all there was between them.

He realized that he was staring at one of those electronic photo frames, and he had been away for nearly an hour, looking for a gift for Jackie. And suddenly, he had an idea. He snatched up two of the frames, paying for them quickly before hustling back to the TARDIS. A bit of jiggery-pokery, and he grinned delightedly at the improved gadget. He stuffed them both in the carrier bag, planning to wrap them in Jackie's flat, and quickly collected Rose's gift, which was already professionally wrapped.

There was a bounce in his step as he walked towards the flat. He practically bounded up the three flights of stairs, more excited about this--Christmas and Rose--than about anything else he'd ever experienced. Because he knew that he just wanted to be with her, now, and sod everything else. And whatever happened, happened.

He breezed into the flat, pausing in the doorway and beaming when he saw Rose sitting on the couch next to her mum, both of them cradling steaming mugs. They were talking quietly, not noticing him for a moment, and he wondered if he'd hear anything interesting. But then Rose looked up and grinned back at him, her face full of happiness.

Jackie craned her neck and looked over her shoulder at him. "Oh, it's himself," she said. "'Bout time you showed up."

"Lovely to see you, Jackie," he said, pushing off from the doorjamb and crossing the room, dropping into the squashy chair by the window. "Happy Christmas. So, will Christmas dinner soon be in the oven, filling the flat with the scent of turkey and pudding and other delicious items?"

Rose snorted, and Jackie glared at her daughter before turning to the Doctor. "I always do the big dinner on Christmas Day, as well you remember from last year."

"I was unconscious on Christmas Eve last year. For all I know, you and Rose and Mickey had a three-course gourmet meal," he said, winking at Rose.

"None of your cheek, now," Jackie said, rising from the sofa. "Still, time to be getting the shepherd's pie in the oven. Cuppa?" she asked, looking at him.

He nodded and rose to take her place on the sofa next to Rose. He stretched his legs out and leaned back, propping his head up with one hand as he watched Rose. She smiled softly at him and took a sip of tea. "Did you find something?" she asked quietly, tilting her head to indicate her mother.

"Yep," he said, moving sideways a bit so he was closer to her. "Think she'll like it. Just have to get it wrapped."

Rose held out a hand. "Give it over--knowing you, it'll look like a coat of many colors if I let you near the wrapping paper."

He sniffed but pulled the bag out of his pocket. "You seem to think you know me so well."

She grinned at him. "As well as you know me."

He smiled broadly, his irritation vanishing. "Yeah."

He felt like he could have sat on that sofa, looking at Rose, for at least a good hour, but Jackie's voice interrupted the moment. "Here you go," she said, plonking a mug in the passthrough from the kitchen.

He looked at Rose and she shrugged her shoulders, a "what can you do?" expression on her face. He grinned, and went to retrieve his cuppa. He took a sip, and frowned. "Not enough sugar," he muttered, walking around to the kitchen.

"I put three spoons in!" Jackie said as he made a beeline for the sugar bowl.

"I usually put about five in," he said, looking up at her. "Unless I'm using Extralonite sugar. Then, about two pinches is enough."

"Never heard anything so ridiculous in my life," she muttered, moving around the kitchen and pulling the foil off the shepherd's pie.

"I like sugar," he said.

"I've seen five-year-olds who like sweet stuff less," Jackie sniped. "Can't believe you're so skinny."

"It's all the running, Mum," Rose said, coming to stand in the doorway of the kitchen.

The Doctor threw a smile at her, but Jackie's next sentence made him freeze, his smile now a parody of one.

"Look who's under the mistletoe . . . good thing there's a bloke--of sorts--about."

End, Part 2

Go to Part 3