#(I wanted to write it soooo badly even though its very late here ... or rather early)

[respondedinkind]

Plotted starter for @ssolessurvivor

Something must have gone wrong at some point during Ka'anh's escape - because the last thing he remembers is that he made it, that he managed to get his beaten body to a shuttle and leave his home behind, flee from the special forces sent after him to try and get him to succumb to his fate.

Now, however, he's not where he should be, he can tell; He's not sitting within his shuttle, he's not controlling it in any way, he's not flying it through the vast distance of space.

He's lying on his stomach instead, face down, and the surface his face is pressed against isn't made of cold steel but rather of... something else. Something that smells different; It tickles his face, which Ka'anh barely feels, because the pain he experiences is probably the worst he's ever gone through.

A moan escapes him, deep and guttural; Something stabs into his abdomen, somewhere next to his navel, the rhythmic pulse a telltale of something dangerous happening within his skull. Every fiber of his existence is on fire, every nerve ending sending signals through his body at speeds that overwhelm him, and with every breath he takes, Ka'anh can hear his lungs rattle like he's pulling chains through his ribcage.

This might be the first time he actually wants to die - to just stay here and give up, to have this pain fade and leave him, throw him into darkness to never return. But of course he does not give in to the urge; He's a soldier, he's made for survival, and he doesn't want the fight against his own kind to have been for nothing - it wouldn't be worth it, deem it a failure despite his success to get away from a home that never has given him the comfort it should have in the first place.

Somehow, Ka'anh manages to move - he uses his left arm to push himself up, which, in return, causes his frame to roll onto his back; He cries out as he does, the pain that shoots through him so intense he feels like he's going to puke his guts out, but it does not happen, not yet. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth bared in agony, Ka'anh inhales, exhales, inhales and exhales - he whistles as he does, not on purpose but because his lungs continue to collapse, a rib or two must have broken through the tissue. His body shivers from exhaustion and effort to keep him alive, and when Ka'anh finally manages to crack his eyes open, he is greeted with blobs of blue and green, but no clear image that tells him where he is.

Brain damage, his mind successfully provides, most likey from whatever he's suffered through. He hears the sound of broken machinery, smells molten steel - he must have crashed somewhere, he assumes. Get up, get up, get up! Assess the damage, assess your health, figure out where you are and how you get away again!

As Ka'anh tries to do exactly that, he realizes his injuries must be even worse than expected - one of his legs doesn't cooperate, it's likely broken at least twice, somewhere along the hip perhaps. When he blinks to clear his vision, he can see the blurry shapes of his own self as he looks down - spotting his shirt being torn, soaked with blood, his shaking hands equally as bright red in color as he holds them up in front of his face. One wrist must be broken, it bends awkwardly, and the stabbing sensation from earlier is a piece of metal debris poking out from the left side of his lower abdomen.

"---Wi..." (Fuck), he grunts, his head falling back to the ground as he takes another breath, trying to steady himself. Only after a second he tries again, growls as he sits up, then somehow manages to turn back around so he is on all fours (or, all threes, as his one leg is of no use). His wrist creaks under the pressure and he, as quickly as he can, shifts his weight to his other hand - then uses the bad one to wipe away some sweat and blood from his forehead, blinking again as he takes a peek at what surrounds him.

His shuttle, wrecked. Nature that's unfamiliar to him, including trees and grass. The scent of blood is overwhelming, and despite everything being quiet it almost feels deafening, the silence added to his own blood rushing within his ears. He huffs, takes another breath, feeling nausea hitting him in sharp bursts to which he swallows - trying to keep it at bay.

He needs to... figure something out. He has a medkit somewhere, but to find it will be close to impossible with how damaged and torn his shuttle is. Perhaps his body would cope on its own, but with the concussion, the metal sticking inside his abdomen, the multiple broken bones all over his frame, the collapsed lung, possible internal bleeding... chances are slim, even for someone like him.

Ka'anh gives in, finally, and retches - covering the grass beneath himself in crimson, coughing in between, the pain almost too much to handle. Too much to exist. Too much to endure.

He thinks he hears something, somewhere - like twigs snapping beneath weight, perhaps. Fuck, where is his gun?! Where is it?! He can not find it on his own body as his hand starts to pat himself down...

[tenroseforeverandever]

Dear Father Christmas… Chapter 23: December 24, 2038

MASTERPOST

Characters:  Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble; OC Therin Thomson; Javic Thane; Gray Thane; OC Tianza; the TARDIS; OC Abby Tyler-Milne;

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love; gun violence; violence resulting in death; life-threatening injury; life threatening situations; life threatening illness; original characters

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: Jackie decides to make Ugly Christmas Jumpers for everyone in the family.

Notes: Wow! Another chapter that got away from me! LOL And boy, did this one put up a fight.

To my betas, @rose–nebula and mrsbertucci: once again, this chapter would not be what it is without you. You gave me inspiration (which I still feel guilty about!) and we had many, many discussions about lots of things to get me through this, including a particularly hilarious discussion about aliens (I’m dying laughing just thinking about it now… I don’t know why I find it so funny, I just do!) Just thank-you, both, for always being there when I need you, and putting up with my whinging. I love you both!

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. The prompt I used today was Santa and/or Elves.

I know it’s the middle of April, but since the weather outside (here in Ontario) is still frightful, I don’t feel too guilty about posting part of my Christmas story. I have eight more chapters to go for the full 31 Days of Ficmas. I’m not sure if I will post any more through the year, or just write them and post them at Christmastime in December. I’ll see how it goes… ;D

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2038

Dear Father Christmas,

My mum never does anything by halves. When Jackie Tyler sets her mind on something, she doesn’t hold back. She gets stuck right in; she takes the bull by the horns and beats it into submission. God help anyone or anything standing in her way. Just ask the Doctor…

(On second thought, best not. He might not take it too well, especially not after… well, you’ll see.)

Anyroad, ever since we welcomed my little niece, Abby, into our lives last autumn, Mum’s been on a knitting rampage. She taught herself. She started out with little things like baby mitts and booties, but quickly progressed to sweet little cardigans and jumpers. And she’s gotten really good! My very favourite one was an adorable navy-blue jumper with the words “I LOVE MY DADDIES!” emblazoned across the front in big, pink letters. Tony and Noah (the proud Daddies in question) loved it too, and dressed little Abby in it all the time, until summer came along, and they were forced to admit it was too hot for her to wear it anymore!

This year, sometime around August, Mum’s knitting took a rather… erm… dangerous turn. Stand aside, Molly Weasley: Jackie Tyler announced she was intending to knit jumpers for all of the Tyler clan, and their significant others, this Christmas.

And not just any jumpers: Ugly Christmas Jumpers. 

She only told me and Dad, not wanting to spoil the “surprise” for everyone else. Honestly, we just had to grit our teeth and tell her what a “great idea” it was. It wasn’t like it would’ve made any difference if we’d told her how we really felt. Besides, this way we were likely avoiding the pain of a good hard smack, and months of her patented Jackie Tyler silent-not-silent treatment.

Anyway, it wasn’t like she’d told us about it because she was actually seeking our approval. No, we were to be models, though I rather think guinea-pigs would be a more apt description. Honestly, as Christmas approached, I was seriously beginning to think it would have been better to shut the entire Ugly Jumper Project down in its early stages and endure whatever punishment Mum might have dished out, but at that point, we were in too deep to turn back.

The worst part of the whole process was Mum constantly calling me throughout the autumn to come over to the mansion to try something on, or to bring over jumpers the kids had left behind when they came to visit, so she could compare the sizing with what she was knitting. To be honest it got to be a bit tedious very quickly, but I could hardly say no to her when she was throwing her heart into it. Besides, this way I was able to keep an eye out and nix any design I thought wouldn’t go down very well with the intended recipient.

But, the jumpers were, for the most part, not too bad. They were beautifully designed and made. I was honestly quite impressed. Most of them either featured a cute character like a snowman or penguin or something like that, or they were the traditional Fair Isle design, with rows of little repeating Christmas characters and symbols in garish colours. Regardless of the pattern, all of them had some sort of saying on them, like Joy to the World, ‘Tis the Season, or Let It Snow.

“Soooo, which one is mine,” I asked.

“Never you mind, little madam. For your information, I ‘aven’ started it yet. And even if I ‘ad… as if I would spoil the surprise.”

I suddenly had a horrible thought. Cold dread washed over me. “Erm… what about the Doctor’s…?” Ever since he had revamped her dishwasher to sing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer seven or eight Christmases ago, Mum had been out for revenge. Not that she would admit it. From the look she gave me, you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I knew better.

“Oh, I’m tryin’ to come up with jus’ the right pattern for ‘im. I’ve a couple in mind.”

“Muuuuum, don’t do anything rash, yeah?”

“Oh, honestly Rose, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. I’m jus’ tryin’ to create a little Christmas cheer.”

“Oi! I’m the one stuck in the middle of you and the Doctor and your flippin’ Christmas cheer. Me and Dad!”

She ignored me, of course, and did a complete about-face on the topic. “Oh, speakin’ of your Dad… I got his jumper finished. What d’ya think?” She held up a dark green jumper, with a comical Santa body on it. The pattern stopped at the collar, so Dad’s head would be taking the place of Santa’s head (your head, Santa!) The words Ho Ho Ho were knitted in bold yellow letters below Santa’s feet. “I’ll get ‘im to wear a Father Christmas ‘at and all!”

I had to laugh. “Good luck with that!”

“’E’ll do it if ‘e knows w’at’s good for ‘im!”

“That’ll make for more of your Christmas cheer, then…”

“Oh, don’t ya worry; I’ll make it worth ‘is while.”  She winked at me. “There’ll be plenty of Christmas cheer and bells a jinglin’ around ‘ere.”

“Mum! TMI!”

“Since when ‘ave you been such a prude? I mean, jus’ look at the way you and ‘imself carry on.”

“Yeah, but there are certain things I really, really do not need to know. And that, right there: that tops the list! Look, I gotta run. Dad’s asked me to give a presentation this afternoon.”

“Oh, well, I suppose… Oh, Rose, wait a mo’. I meant to ask: Charlie, is she seein’ someone regular these days? Will she be bringin’ a date for Christmas Eve? I’ll need to make ‘im or ‘er a jumper too, yeah, whoever they are.”

“I dunno, Mum. I never know with that one these days. I worry… a lot.”

“She’ll be all right, sweetheart. It’s jus’ a phase. ‘Sides, she’s nearly twenty years old. I don’t need to remind ya w’at you were up to at ‘er age… gallivantin’ around with that bleedin’ alien. Not that you cared a fig about my worries!”

“Mum…”

“She’s jus’ like you in so many ways, so bloody-minded.”

“That isn’t helping, Mum! I jus’ hope you’re right… about it being a phase. Anyway, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything definite about her bringing a date.”

“An’ in the meantime, I’ll knit an extra generic sort of jumper, jus’ in case.” Mum must have noticed I was about to protest, because she cut me off before I’d even had a chance to open my mouth. “Nah, don’t worry; Lor’ knows, it’s no trouble. After all, Therin might still decide to bring someone, too, and I’ll need one for ‘er. Best to be prepared.”

“All right. Suit yourself. See ya soon. Love ya.” I kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door, the problem of Charlie weighing heavily on my mind.

--ooOoo--

That night as I was standing at the stove making supper, the Doctor came up and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He gave me a lovely kiss behind the ear. It was just what I’d needed. I’d been wound up all day.

“Penny for ‘em? You’ve been doing (might I say) a piss poor job of shielding your emotions.”

“That obvious, was it?”

“Yup.” He squeezed me tighter and gave me another tender little kiss. Even without our telepathic bond, I expect he would have figured out something was wrong. And I really had been sloppy about keeping my worry contained. To be honest, I’d been hoping he’d notice. “You could have just told me if something was bothering you.”

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, giving the sauce another stir. “I know. You’ve just been so stressed lately.”

The Doctor had been called in to help with seventeen frightened and violent Trumhurgi whose ship had crashed in Torquay. They were badly injured, and the Doctor was the only one who had any decent knowledge about their unusual physiology. It had been two months of providing medical care for them, sometimes round-the-clock for several days running. He’d been training Torchwood physicians and nurses as well, but it all took time. In addition, he’d been consulting about repairs on the Trumhurgi ship, and travelling back and forth in the TARDIS, obtaining spare parts and contacting worried family members, carrying their messages and even bringing them back to Earth to visit their recuperating relatives.

I’d been working on the case too, but I was helping out the traumatized humans who’d been caught up in the original crash and the violent, defensive outburst that had followed. Shots had been fired and, by some stroke of luck, there had been no deaths, but it had been a close call. Fortunately, I had a huge, experienced team at my command, so my end of the job had been a lot easier than the Doctor’s.

“I’m all right, love,” the Doctor assured me, as we dished up our supper and sat down at the table. It was the first time in weeks we’d actually been able to eat together. “Besides, by end of this week the last of the Trumhurgi go home in their very own, working-better-than-ever ship! Let’s have tonight be about us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Now spill. What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s Charlie. I’m worried. I didn’t tell you about it because… well, the Trumhurgi… but Javic dropped by shortly after all that happened… with news.” The Doctor’s eyes darkened, and his lips tightened reflexively, but he waited for me to continue. “It seems Charlie has been taking a page out of Javic’s book, recently. She’s been, erm… let’s just say ‘embracing her sexuality’… a lot!”

“And he knows this how?”

“Well he ran into her at one of his favourite… spots.”

I sensed the Doctor’s anger flare, white hot. “He didn’t touch−”

“God, no! In fact, he’s sort of taken her under his wing, so to speak. Made sure she’s stayed away from all the dangerous places.”

The Doctor growled. He looked like he was fighting really hard to keep his emotions in check. His eyes flashed at me. It had been a long time since I’d been a target for the Oncoming Storm. It was properly frightening (and more than a bit thrilling!) “And you… you never thought to tell me? This? About our daughter?”

“You were so busy. And it’s not like−”

He launched himself out of his chair with a roar. “You kept this from me?”

Reflexively, I shrank back into my seat, like some timid little creature. “I’m sorry.”

He began to pace, tugging at his hair. Each time he passed me, he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. His mental shields were locked in place and impenetrable.

After five long minutes, I decided enough was enough. It wasn’t my habit to let him intimidate me and I wasn’t about to chicken out now; history told me, it was far better to confront him, not let him get away with his bullying behaviour. “Doctor, stop! Enough. Sit down so we can talk.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me!”

“That’s was the point of having this conversation, yeah? Sit!”

He did as I asked, shoving his plate away from him, across the table. I grabbed onto his hand before he could move it, pouring my love through our bond. I was gratified when his shields began to give; it was only a little, but it was a beginning.

“Any other information you want to impart?” he bit out.

“Well… apparently she has one of Wilfred’s Vortex Manipulators, so… erm… she’s dancing through time and space.”

“Bloody hell!” He moved to stand again, but I held firm to his hand. He glared daggers at me. “Let go! We have to−”

“Have to what, Doctor? What do you propose we do? You’re not going to go storming in there like the Great Exterminator!”

“Try me!”

“This is Charlie… intimidation has never worked on that kid, and it’s not about to this time, either. We need to be rational and calm and supportive.”

“Supportive! But she’s−”

“I know. And Javic has been keeping an eye on her. He’s making sure she checks in with him, and he assures me she’s doing… fine.”

“Somehow, I don’t imagine Javic’s definition of ‘fine’ is quite the same as ours.”

I had to admit (but only to myself) I’d been thinking much the same way, though I knew Javic: he’d go to the ends of creation to protect any of us. “Hope’s been keeping in touch with her too,” I offered, hoping to appease the Doctor.

“Well that, that is a bloody recipe for disaster!” His anger flared.

Again, I had to agree with him, Santa. For all that she means well, Hope tends to get a bit bossy with her younger siblings. She’s mellowed over the years, but still… My arguments were crumbling around me. “You’re right. Let’s go!”

“What?”

“Let’s go… TARDIS. You. Me. Chat with our daughter.”

“But I thought you said...?”

“Changed my mind.”

--ooOoo--

Charlie, it turns out, was not thrilled to see us. I hadn’t been expecting a joyous family reunion or anything, but I think it would have gone a lot better if the Doctor hadn’t barged up to the bar where she was cheerfully chatting up some green-skinned bloke, waving his psychic paper around like some crazed maniac and bellowing to said bloke that Charlie was under-aged (an outright lie… on that planet) and if he didn’t want to find himself in a whole heap of trouble he’d better scram. He’d then grabbed Charlie by the arm and hauled her out of the building and into the TARDIS.

To say Charlie was furious was the understatement of the year! She was ranting on about how it was bad enough her “puritanical” sister was on her case, but the fact that we were now interfering in her life as well incensed her to no end.  She only finally calmed after I ordered the Doctor out of the TARDIS. I would deal with him later.

In the end, there was very little I could actually do other than let Charlie know we’d both be there for her if she ever needed us. She assured me she was fine: having fun; being careful; and not doing anything too wild (and “bloody hell, Mum, I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you… it’s just wrong…”.) I tried to understand, but I just couldn’t put myself in that mindset, and I told her as much.

“It’s just such a relief to be able to have fun and feel good without any obligations. I have so many obligations, Mum. School, Hand in Hand, work... This makes me feel, well free.”

Oh, Santa, it was then I realized how much that little girl (young woman) had taken on in her young life.

She must have seen the look of horror on my face. She grabbed my hand, and our familial bond snapped into place. She read me like an open book. “Mum, don’t you dare feel guilty. You never, ever pressured me, any of us, to do anything we didn’t want. You encouraged us in the best way possible, you… and Dad.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes at the mention of her father.  “This is just my way of letting go a bit, taking time for me. Can you understand that?”

“Course I can, love. I worry, that’s all. Promise me you’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“And listen to Javic.”

“Muuuuum! I know!”

“Now, since we spoiled your evening with that young man, how about we take you out to supper, yeah?”

“That sounds great! And don’t worry too much about my evening. He was a bit of a tosser, anyway. I was just about to walk out when Dad came barging in like some daft Onidsessi on pep pills. Urrrgh,” she groaned, “promise you’ll never let Dad near pep pills. Can you imagine…?”

“Oh, god, your Dad… he’s out there… Not on pep pills, but you know as well as me, he’s quite capable of stirring up all kinds of trouble without them if he gets a bit bored.”

Thankfully the Doctor hadn’t been stirring up trouble. We found him, pacing back and forth in front of the TARDIS doors. Charlie skipped right over to him, stopping him in his tracks and planting a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t help but smile. We might all drive one another completely mental sometimes, but there was no lack of love in our little family, and this incident had assured me our children always knew we would be a safe haven for them whenever they needed it.

With all our emotions running high, I never remembered to ask Charlie if she was bringing home a friend at Christmas, so Mum could plan an appropriate jumper. At this point, though, I didn’t imagine there would be anyone special, given that she seemed to be determined to stay away from serious relationships for the time being.

I couldn’t have been more wrong…

Santa, I need to run. We’re all at Mum’s tonight, and the jumpers have finally been unveiled. There were a few… complications. And I’m running interference! I’ll try to explain later.

Blimey! There goes the Doctor, now, and he looks far too happy for anyone’s good, especially considering…  Look, Santa, I gotta go! I’ll finish this letter up later.

--ooOoo--

Santa, I’m back, but I’m not sure where the hell I’m going to begin. A lot of stuff went down tonight. A lot of stuff.

Mum was just itching to hand out her Ugly Jumper parcels to everyone; I couldn’t get her to sit still, she was so excited. We were still waiting for Charlie to arrive and for Tony, Noah, and Abby, too. The Doctor had gone to collect Charlie in the TARDIS. Mum was bouncing off the walls.

Thank goodness my brother and his family decided to show up just after the Doctor left. Entertaining Abby was keeping Mum rather brilliantly distracted, and it meant I didn’t need to entertain Mum. As it turned out, it was just as well Mum was preoccupied, because it gave her time to ease into meeting Charlie’s plus-one which turned out to be a bit of a shock for her, just not for the immediately obvious reason…

The lovely, familiar sound of the TARDIS filled the room about fifteen minutes after Tony arrived. She landed in her customary corner of Mum’s living room, wearing her traditional Blue Box disguise, but topped with festive snow and icicles, and a colourful wreath on her door. The door opened, and the Doctor stepped out, meeting my gaze with raised eyebrows and a little prickle of warning through our bond. He was being very guarded, not sharing any specific thoughts or images, and that made me distinctly uneasy.

Charlie followed him and was tugging behind her what could only be her date for the evening. The creature seemed to unfold itself from the TARDIS. It was very tall and rail thin. Charlie was holding onto one of its appendages, a hand of sorts, at the end of one of its four upper limbs, formed from an assortment of tentacle-like structures. “C’mon Hrau-Ard,” Charlie coaxed. “You’re gonna love my family! Hell, you and Dad are already like best mates!”

“Possibly a bit of an exaggeration seeing as we only met six minutes ago,” the Doctor countered, allowing Charlie and Hrau-Ard to step in front of him, “but he seems like a fine chap, I have to say.”

It took me a moment to get over my shock. Now, let me be clear, Santa, I have no trouble with interspecies relationships… I mean look at my darling husband, not exactly human for all he looks it. It’s just that Charlie, for all her sexual experimentation has never strayed far from standard humanoid partners before... at least according to Javic’s accounts. That’s why I needed to collect my thoughts before I moved forward to greet our new guest.

“Hello,” I smiled up into the creature’s majestic face. And majestic it was, by any standards… beautiful. Trust Charlie to pick a gorgeous date! A long muzzle, with an expressive mouth on the end, swooped up into a spectacular curved crest above it’s head. The crest had two main parts, a longer one below and a shorter part above. Its face morphed gradually from a rich teal colour at the muzzle to a deep indigo at the tips of the crests and was edged with many sensory tentacles and filaments. Two large purple eyes bulged above the snout, and several secondary eyes protruded from either side of the crests, set on stalks which were each adorned with several metallic rings. “I’m Rose Tyler, Charlie’s mum.” I held my hands out, spread open before me in the universal sign of peaceful greeting.

The creature bowed its head to me and dropping Charlie’s hand, held all four of it’s tentacle-tipped upper limbs out, mirroring me. Its fluting voice emanated from the crests. “Christmas greetings to you, Rose Tyler. My name is Hrau-Ard. It is lovely to meet you.”

“He’s male… mostly,” Charlie informed me, “so it’s okay to use ‘he’ and ‘him’.”

Hrau-Ard piped in, bowing his head to me again, “Those pronouns seem to be the most accurate.”

Before I could respond to Hrau-Ard, Charlie impatiently snagged the hand she’d been holding earlier and tugged him past me. “Well, come on in and meet the rest of the family!”

He hooted in surprise, his long tan-coloured tunic billowing and brushing me as he passed. It dropped halfway down his two legs and contrasted spectacularly with the blues and greens of his skin and had an opening in the back through which a pair of wing-like appendages extended. They were bright turquoise and filmy (too delicate to be proper wings) and vibrated as he moved.

I admit, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at Mum’s incredulous expression as she met him. She passed Abby back to Noah, and looked Hrau-Ard up and down, offering him all the appropriate greetings. She had come a long way since her “bog-monster” days on the Estate and was extremely well-versed in alien diplomacy. After all, she’d welcomed plenty into her home over the years. But, despite all her training and experience, she was still my mum, and I nearly choked when she repeated his name back for clarification: “Howard? Your name is Howard?”

With a low whistle of approval and if the TARDIS was translating properly, amusement, Hrau-Ard inclined his head, his facial filaments bobbing with the movement. “I enjoy the way you say my name, Charlie’s Gran.”

“Oh, just call me Jackie, please. Howard! Of all the names!”

“Is this name of significance to you?”

Mum glanced nervously over to Pete, who was busy grilling Wilfred and Tianza about the medicinal properties of a Gallifreyan plant he was interested in using in a new Vitex drink.  “Oh, ‘e’s jus’ an old mate of mine.”

“Fine fellow! Liked fruit!” the Doctor enthused from the TARDIS door with a broad, toothy grin. “I borrowed his pyjamas and dressing gown once!”

“Well then,” Hrau-Ard bleeped, “I am honoured to be his namesake.”

“Oh, off the two of you go then.” Mum shooed Charlie and “Howard” off to meet Tony, Noah, and Abby. She fixed a glare at the Doctor, who had stepped up behind me. “See, there, Time Lump! A proper alien, tentacles and all! ‘E at least ‘as the decency to look the part.”

“So sorry to disappoint you with my lack of appendages, Jackie (after all, I live my life just to please you),” he snarked back at her. “Fortunately, as it turns out, there’s one Tyler who is rather fond of my one, rather impressive appendage, just the way it is.”

“All right, you two,” I cut off Mum before she had a chance to bite back, “it’s Christmastime, yeah? Peace on Earth. See, the halls are all decked,” I gestured around me, “merry and bright. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves.”

“Ooooh, I’d like to deck ‘is halls, all right…” Mum grumbled.

The Doctor leaned out around me to shoot another barb at Mum. “Is that your resting Grinch face, Jackie, or are you just happy to see me?”

Mum lunged at him, slapping-hand poised and ready. Fortunately for the Doctor, I was still in between the two of them. “Stop!”

“Cuddly as a cactus; charming as an eel… Mrs. Griii-inch” the Doctor sing-songed.

“STOP!” My shout silenced the room, everyone turning to stare at me.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Charlie cooed at Hrau-Ard, “that’s sorta their normal behaviour.”

“Look what you two made me do,” I hissed at Mum and the Doctor. “Be civil! Honestly!” Fed up, I made to leave the two of them and go to the kitchen to pour myself a well-earned glass of wine, when Mum caught me by the sleeve.

“Blimey, Rose!” she whispered at me. “That Howard fella ‘as wings!”

“Yeah, well spotted! And tentacles!”

“No, no, no! The wings! ‘E’ll never fit into any of my jumpers! Never! And ‘e’s so bleedin’ skinny and all. (Blimey, ‘e makes the Doctor look like a sumo wrestler, ‘e does!) The jumper I made would be…”

“Mum, you don’t need to worry. He’ll understand, I’m sure.”

She burst into tears. “But I wanted everyone to ‘ave… and now ‘e’ll be without something from me… An’ it’s Christmas…”

The Doctor stepped up, concerned. He put a gentle hand on Mum’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? If it’s what I said, Jackie… you know I was just taking the mick.”

“No, no, no… nothin’ like that, ya plum.” She patted his cheek and gave him a watery smile. “I’m jus’ disappointed is all.” She excused herself and rushed off in the direction of the powder room.

“What was all that about?”

“Promise you won’t tell her I told you?”

“Oh, you know I can keep a secret, Rose! Besides, I know better than to cross Jackie Tyler by leaking sensitive information. C’mon, give.”

I explained to him about Mum’s dilemma, how she had knitted ugly Christmas jumpers for everyone (his face blanched, probably imagining what she might have created for him) and now because of Hrau-Ard’s unexpected physical attributes, none of the jumpers she had set aside would ever possibly fit.

“Well, I could help,” he suggested. “She’s probably not going to like it much, and I can’t say I’m much of a fan of it myself, but I have an idea that just might work… if she’s willing.”

--ooOoo--

Everyone was so busy with canapes and punch and cocktails they never noticed Mum and the Doctor bundling into the TARDIS and the TARDIS dematerializing. The TARDIS was proud to be showing off her new “Silent Mode”: there was only a little bit of a breeze to indicate she had ever been there. (My little darling.)

They had only been gone for about ten minutes before the TARDIS rematerialized and Mum burst through the doors, beaming and carrying a neatly wrapped parcel: Hrau-Ard’s gift. To my utter amazement, she turned back to stroke the TARDIS’ doorframe, planting a soft kiss on the blue wood. “Thank-you, sweetheart. You’re a wonder, you are.”

The TARDIS hummed in response, a wonderfully joyous sound, as Mum practically skipped over to the Christmas tree to tuck the present underneath.

The Doctor stepped up beside me, closing the TARDIS doors behind him. “They hit it off like a house on fire,” he told me, “the pair of them, thick as thieves. Turns out when your Mum was ill a few years ago, and I put her in stasis, the TARDIS kept her company in her mind; they became fast friends. Brilliant!” He grinned down at me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him as we followed Mum to the tree. Then he paused, and I glanced up at him to ask why we had stopped. The grin melted from his face. “Although… I don’t much like the idea of the two of them plotting against me behind my back.”

I just laughed and put my head on his shoulder. “Blimey… you’re getting a bit paranoid! How long were you gone in your timestream?”

“Five and a half days, Rose. Five and a half days… with Jackie Tyler on my TARDIS! That’s enough to make anyone paranoid!”

I admit, Santa, I shamelessly started to laugh harder. “How did you ever survive?”

“After the first day, I learned pretty quick to keep my head down. I made myself scarce.”

“Oh, you’ll be all right.” I nudged him with my elbow. “They won’t plot against you…” (…much, I added silently.)

“I heard that!” He arched an irritable eyebrow at me. “Do you realize she’s got her own room, Rose? No, not room, suite! The TARDIS gave her an entire suite of rooms with her own telly and a little galley too!”

“Awww, that’s lovely.” I was warmed through that the TARDIS had welcomed Mum so enthusiastically. My darling husband, however, was another matter. “Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll protect you from any plotting. C’mon, we better hurry. I don’t think Mum will be able to contain herself much longer.”

Mum was gathering everyone together, so she could hand out her creations, and getting a bit shirty at people who weren’t paying attention, so I dragged the Doctor over by the hand and found a comfortable seat for us.

Content that everyone was present and listening to her, Mum spoke: “I’ve decided to start a new Tyler-family tradition: Ugly Christmas Jumpers! Made by yours truly.” She preened and there was a round of groans from the family and a perplexed hoot from Hrau-Ard. “Oi! They’re not really ugly… that’s jus’ w’at they’re called, yeah. See I’m wearin’ one.” She stood up to show off the jumper she was wearing. It was made of soft, silvery yarn and she had sewn tinsel across the front to form the words “Don’t get your tinsel in a twist,” in cursive script. Of course, she also had tinsel tied around her up-do. She looked sparkly and lovely. My Mum… She’s been through so much in her life, experienced so many odd things, and taken it all in stride; things that would make most people go completely loopy. I love her so much. I was positively chuffed to see her so happy, handing out brightly coloured parcels to all our family.

Dad was the first one to get his present, and he was a real sport about it, donning both his new Santa jumper and the Santa hat Mum had included in his parcel. Everyone burst out laughing when he stood up and smoothed his jumper down over his tummy, and said: “Do you think this makes me look fat? Ho-ho-ho!”

“Oh, sit down, you!” Mum admonished, but I could tell she was pleased as punch.

After that there was great excitement as we all opened our packages. Abby’s jumper was the cutest little thing, with an adorable gingerbread man wearing a Santa hat on a bright, red background. There were miniature gingerbread men down the sleeves and a few white strategically-placed snowflakes. I figure it’ll be a new favourite piece of clothing for her doting daddies!

Javic’s jumper featured a grumpy Santa reading his list of children’s names. The words “I’m at the top of Santa’s naughty list,” were emblazoned underneath. He was ecstatic, claiming it couldn’t have been more perfect. My jumper was… well, glorious in it’s tackiness! And I loved it! Oh, Santa, it was TARDIS blue, and a string of knitted fairy lights trailed all over it. In the middle, the fairy lights formed the words “Merry and Bright” and were lit up with little LEDs. Mum had outdone herself.

Hrau-Ard seemed uncertain what to do with his package, but Charlie soon sorted him out, helping him unwrap the gift. He held the jumper up in front of him, looking around at everyone else trying theirs on. He peered at the design on the front, all of his eyes trained on the bright patterns, and gave a long low hoot.

“Well, are ya goin’ to put it on, then?” Charlie prompted. “Here, I’ll help ya!” Together, the two of them made short work of slipping off Hrau-Ard’s tan tunic and replacing it with the jumper.

Hrau-Ard stood up out of his chair to show his jumper off. It was long, like the undertunic he wore, dropping to mid-thigh, and had perfectly aligned spaces for all four of his upper limbs and his wings.

“The TARDIS helped Jackie with the proper design and style, so it was compatible with his cultural expectations and with his body configuration,” the Doctor murmured in my ear. “She even provided all the yarn, if you can believe that!”

I took a closer look at the jumper. It featured an green-clad elf body on a scarlet background. Like Dad’s jumper, Hrau-Ard’s head took the place of the elf’s head. The words underneath said: “Take an ‘elfie with me!” It was hilarious! We were all in stitches, especially Hrau-Ard, who particularly appreciated the pun in the wording, and was honking with joy, and pulling out his mobile to take ‘elfies with everyone.

I couldn’t help but notice Therin was the only one not laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He sat on the other side of the room glowering at Charlie and Hrau-Ard and their easy familiarity. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten over Charlie. He still loved her, despite her obvious disinterest in him… at least as a romantic partner. My heart absolutely ached for him as he quietly trudged out of the room, wearing his Fair Isle T-rex jumper.

“I should go check on him,” I whispered to the Doctor.  

“Nah, he needs to work this out for himself, love. He can’t change what’s in his heart. He just needs time to come to terms with it.”

“I hate to see him so miserable though… I wish I could−”

“Oi!” Mum’s shriek of disapproval cut through my thoughts. “Where’s your jumper, then, Doctor?”

The Doctor shifted nervously next to me, and I felt his crushing fear in my mind. He picked at the wrapping paper on the package in his lap.  

“C’mon then, ya big baby! Open it up! I made it special, jus’ for you.”

“That… that’s what worries me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I offered. Honestly, Santa, Mum was right. He was being a big baby about it. Coward every time. “Best get it over with, like ripping a plaster off.”

“I don’t like plasters, and I don’t like the sound of your mum saying, ‘special just for you’. That, right there, Rose, sends my entire brain into mauve status!”

“C’mon, how bad can it be?” Even as I said the words, I glanced over at Mum who was watching the Doctor with a piercing, self-satisfied eye, and I braced myself. “Never mind. Just get it over with, yeah.”

By this time, we had the attention of the whole room, and the Doctor in a less-than-convincing act of enthusiasm, tore away the wrapping paper in one fell swoop. He reached into the shredded paper and pulled out the jumper, holding it up gingerly. Santa, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I swear the tears were pouring down my face, and the Doctor was scowling at me.

I better explain. The torso and most of the arms of the jumper were mostly brown. Around the cuffs of the arms, and at certain places over the shoulders were knitted green leaves. Some of them also trailed over the torso and back. When we lifted the arms of the jumper, we found dangling from their undersides none other than beautifully crafted, little knit pears! Pears, Santa, which as I’m sure you know are the fruit the Doctor despises most in the universe… for reasons that have never been very clear to me.

The crowning glory was the gigantic bird sewn firmly to the left shoulder: a partridge.

Mum had given the Doctor a Partridge in a Pear Tree-themed jumper!

Strangely, the bird was not knitted but a small-scale but realistic model, complete with feathers… and that gave me pause for thought, and trust me when I say the thoughts were not optimistic for the Doctor…

“Well, w’at are you waitin’ for?” Mum barked. “Put it on, then?”

“What? You expect me to wear this travesty… this… this pitiable excuse for clothing? Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh, just put it on, Dad!” Hope cajoled from across the room. “We’re all wearing them.”

“Yours don’t have pears and a great bloody bird attached, do they?”

“The jumpers are splendid!” Hrau-Ard spoke up with an earnest honk. “This is the most comfortable piece of clothing I have ever owned. And it is humorous too. Doctor, you really should try yours.”

Mum just about melted on the spot at Hrau-Ard’s compliment. “Oh, Howard! You’re such a love. But, you’re just sayin’ that!”

“No, I am sincere, Jackie. It is perfect. I think I like Christmas. And Ugly Christmas Jumpers!”

“Well then, sweetheart, I’ll make you another for next year, yeah?

Howard… I mean Hrau-Ard hooted happily in response, and Mum turned her attention back to the Doctor, by which I mean, she glared daggers at him.

“Oh, all right,” the Doctor conceded, “…if it means I don’t have to listen to any more of your harping,” he added under his breath. He stalked off to the downstairs loo, crushing the jumper in his clenched fist.

“I better go help him out…” I made my excuses and rushed off after him.

I heard Wilfred snickering to Hope, Gray, and Tianza, as I passed them. “Ten quid says they’re off for a snog… or worse.”

Hope just laughed. “No deal, little brother! That’s a sure thing.”

“Oi!” (I’m sorry, I had to protest!) “Enough out of you lot!”

“C’mon, Mum, face it,” Charlie interjected, “you two are an embarrassment.”

“Yeah,” Wilfred agreed, “I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had to spring the two of you from prison for public indecency.”

“Oi, what’s this then?” Mum leaned in for more tidbits of information, and I cleared out of the room as fast as I could.

Exasperated, I knocked on the powder room door. “Doctor, it’s just me.”

He opened the door to let me in.

“Blimey, we’ll have to watch ourselves. That lot are making wagers on whether or not we shag in here, and they’re telling Mum all about our arrests…”

He groaned, sniffing in disdain. “Bloody brilliant! Christmas, an annual excuse for almost completely unfounded gossip and rumour.”

“Exactly!”

“And then there’s this…” He held up the jumper. “I don’t know why I have to put on this preposterous get-up?”

“Because as I recall, a few years back, you mucked about with Mum’s dishwasher. Now it’s payback time,” I reminded him. “C’mon then…” I helped him pull off the (sexy) red jumper he was currently wearing, and I couldn’t resist running my fingers through the sparse hair on his chest. “Tell you what, though: if you’re a good boy and put the jumper on, I will make it very much worth your while…”

“Oh, yes!”

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“What? Right now?”

“I’ll make it quick… I know all your secrets.”

He growled at me, his eyes darkening. “I’ll be wanting another round later tonight, Tyler.”

“You think so, do ya?”

“Of course, I’ll be happy to return the favour. I’ll make you come so hard, your screams will be heard all the way to Gallifrey and back! Think you’re up for that?”

I gazed up at him with what I hoped was a seductive smile and stroked him where he was now straining against the front of his trousers. “You’re on! But the real question is, can you manage not to scream? We don’t really need that lot making any more wagers at our expense.”

--ooOoo--

Sorry Santa, got off on a bit of a tangent there… It happens sometimes, as you’re well aware.

So… where was I? Oh, yeah, so fifteen minutes later, we came out of the loo. With my help (holding the partridge), we managed to get the jumper over the Doctor’s head. He looked very, very, extremely not happy, despite my recent… erm… display of affection. “I feel ridiculous!” he gritted out to me.

“It’s just for a few hours, love.” I patted his arm and took his hand for moral support and made bloody sure to conceal my amusement from him.

As we returned to the living room, out the corner of my eye, I was pretty certain I saw some money changing hands, although, to his credit, the Doctor had kept very quiet and I had checked that my hair and make-up were in order. Maybe they were wagering on whether he’d be wearing the jumper… Who knows?

Anyway, I had to agree with the Doctor’s assessment: the jumper did look more than a bit silly, but everyone cheered and laughed at it.  They were having so much fun over it, and the Doctor ended up being a good sport, showing it off, spreading his arms and making silly faces about the “vile” pears dangling from them.

I admit, I kept to myself the fact that I thought there had to be more to it than just a jumper with pears and a big, daft bird. Mum had waited years to get her revenge. She wasn’t about to let him off with something so… simple. I could only wonder what she had planned and when it would happen.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wonder very long.

It was only a few minutes later when Mum called us all over for supper. She, of course, had place-cards at every setting. The Doctor was sat between Hrau-Ard and Gray, somewhere in the middle of one long side of the table, and Mum and I were directly across from them. Charlie was on the other side of Hrau-Ard; Noah and Tony were sat on either side of Abby, who was in Tony’s old high chair at one end of the table; and Dad was at the other end. Everyone else was scattered randomly around.

As the first course was served, everyone began to chatter to one another. The Doctor seemed quite relaxed, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Mum’s eyes kept fixing on him as he made cheerful small talk to everyone around him. Her lips pursed reflexively every time he stopped talking. She tried a couple of times to get Dad to tell us about something that had happened at work, but he had insisted he didn’t want to talk shop. He was determined to take some time away from it.

“Fine,” Mum muttered under her breath, “just tryin’ to liven up the conversation. Honestly.”

“I thought we were having a lovely time,” I told her. “Everyone’s relaxed and chatting… well except Therin, but you know… What’s going on? You’re up to something. I know you. You never ask Dad about Torchwood.”

“Pfffft, don’t be daft! Course I ask ‘im. And jus’ w’at do you mean ‘up to somethin’’? W’at could I possibly be up to?” With that, she turned deliberately away from me and began speaking to Hope about the progress of the Lunar settlements and asking her how she was finding living on a base. “I don’ know if I could take it, yeah. No fresh air, being cooped up inside all the time. I think I’d lose my mind, yeah.”

The Doctor’s eyes brightened as he responded to her. I was relieved he didn’t end up spewing out something rude about her already having lost her mind years back, which honestly seemed like it would be the natural course of the conversation. Instead, he launched into one of his diatribes about the environmental systems on the bases and how they purify the air.

With a smirk, Mum sat back in her seat to listen.

“…and remarkably, the fundamental design never changes from base to base, year after year. It’ll be centuries before someone gets the bright idea that basic human needs aren’t quite being met by–″ He was cut off when the partridge on his shoulder swung around and flapped its tail across his face. He frowned, spun the bird back around, and began to speak again.

This time the bird nipped his ear.

“Fuck!” he shouted in pain, which of course was mimicked loudly by Abby at the other end of the table.

“You dolt!” Mum snapped. “Now, look what you’ve done!”

“Oi! It’s your blasted bird that bit me! Oi! It just did it again!”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Giggles erupted from the little girl as her daddies tried to shush her, and everyone had a good laugh.

Except Mum (“Don’t be so stupid! It’s not a real bird, ya numpty!”); and the Doctor, who glowered at Mum but (remarkably) held his tongue.

“Mum,” I hissed at her, “it bit him. I saw it.”

“Bit him? Stuff and nonsense!”

The Doctor shook his head at me, and at his telepathic request, I decided not to pursue it any further.

Abby had calmed down again, her new word forgotten as quickly as it had come, and normal conversation resumed around the table as the main course was served. It wasn’t long before the Doctor had dived into a conversation about the most current medical breakthroughs with Gray and with Hrau-Ard, who was apparently training as a physician as well. They bantered back and forth for a short time and then the Doctor launched into a long discourse about the benefits of some sort of medical scanner or other. About a minute in, the bird wheeled around, slapping him in the face with its tail once more, and another few seconds after that, it bit him again.

“Right! Ow! Again, you bloody– Ow!” He dug into his trouser pockets for his sonic, threatening the bird with it. “Now, we’ll sort– Blimey! STOP! Ow!”

I glanced over at Mum who was chuckling away to herself, while everyone else was up, getting ready to help the Doctor. Oh, she knew exactly what was going on. And I had no doubt she had orchestrated it.

Hrau-Ard had stood up and was holding the bird still, his tentacled appendages wrapped around it securely. He was doing a great job keeping it from pecking at the Doctor’s ear, which seemed to happen every time he tried to talk.

Mum scoffed next to me. “Talks far too much, anyway, that one. Maybe this will teach ‘im to keep quiet and not monopolize the conversation.”

“So, this was you, then? How the hell did you...?”

“Oh, sweetheart, it only goes off when ‘e natters on for too long. It resets again after ‘e’s given our ears a bit of a break.”

“But…”

“Oh, I know a few of the folks down in Tech. They were quite ‘appy to do me a little favour, especially after ‘imself barged in there a month or so back and told ‘em they were sequencin’ somethin’-or-other all wrong.”

“He told me about that. It was all wrong!”

“Well, seems they didn’t like ‘is tone… all ‘igh and mighty and ‘I’m so clever’.”

I flopped back in my chair, and just shook my head. I returned my attention to the other side of the table where the Doctor had adjusted the settings on his sonic and was brandishing it at the animatronic bird.

“Oi,” Mum yelped, “don’t you damage my bird.”

“Priorities, Jackie! Your bloody bird is trying to damage me. Do you realize how hard I had to concentrate to get these ears… not to mention this hair?”

“It is really great hair,” I agreed.

“Oh, shush you!” Mum shot me a scathing look.

“Right then! Allons-y!” Heedless of my mum’s protests, the Doctor activated the screwdriver pointing it at his feathered attacker, and several things happened all at once.

The strangest screeching sound reverberated from Hrau-Ard’s crests in harmonics that mimicked the sonic. He lost his grip on the bird and doubled over, two of his appendages flying to his crests. “This tickles! This tickles! I think I am about to…”

The bird, freed from it’s confines, resumed its attack on the Doctor’s ear, feathers flying everywhere. The Doctor, fumbled his sonic screwdriver, caught it again, and made a quick adjustment to the frequency, constantly yammering and threatening the bird and Mum, not quite making the connection that if he just shut up, the stupid thing would stop pecking him. Finally finding an opening, he pressed the tip of the sonic to the bird’s breast, activating it with a triumphant “Ha!”

Hrau-Ard had resumed his composure once the sonic had stopped but started making that bizarre sound from his crests again once it was reactivated. His facial filaments were absolutely trembling. “It is happening again. I am going to… I am going to…″

The sound seemed to amplify the effects of the sonic. The hapless partridge stopped its attack, but its entire body began to pulse as the wailing hoots from Hrau-Ard’s crest intensified. Everyone was covering their ears, except the Doctor who had turned off the sonic, and was watching in horror, from the corner of his eye, the ominous pulsing of the bird on his left shoulder.

“I am going to–″ Hrau-Ard shouted, and his crests shrieked in a final eruption of noise, and the bird’s body suddenly exploded with a massive blast, sending feathers, sparks, and electronic gizmos everywhere.

“–sneeze,” Hrau-Ard hooted into the silence that had fallen over us all.

A long moment later, just as everyone was catching their collective breath, the Doctor yelped, as cinders from the explosion caught in his hair, causing it to smoulder and burn. “Ow, ow, ow! Blimey! My face! My hair!”

Abby started howling; everyone started shouting; I leaped across the top of the table to get to my poor husband; and Gray, the only one maintaining his composure, picked up a pitcher of ice water and dumped it over the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor sat there, completely stunned, as water dripped from his fringe into his face.

“Oh my God! Doctor!” I pulled his damp body against me, hugging him tight. “Are you all right?” I pulled back from the hug to look him in the face. I took in the angry red welts, the burned hair and…

He must have seen my astonishment. “What? What is it?”

“Your… your left eyebrow. It’s… it’s gone…”

“What? What?” His fingers flew to his brow, where the hair had been singed away. “WHAT?”

“And some of your hair… just up the left side…”

“Jackie Tyler!” he bellowed. He made to get up from his chair, but Gray shoved him back into it.

“Sit still! You have burns. I’ll need to use the dermal regenerator on them.”

“It won’t bring back my eyebrow, though, will it? My left eyebrow too. It’s my most expressive one,” he added wistfully.

Mum had come rushing around the table. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll cut your hair for ya, real nice. And your eyebrow will grow back again in no time, I expect.”

“Yeah, I suppose it will,” he said relaxing a bit. “And more expressive than ever! Makes you think, what would I ever do without eyebrows?” He shuddered at the thought. “And, Jackie, I have to admit, you couldn’t have known that the sonic would resonate with Hrau-Ard’s crests and make the bird explode like that. Though, I have to say, good riddance!”

“It is all my fault. I must apologize profusely,” Hrau-Ard hooted, his wings fluttering.

Mum protested, “Oh, no, Howard!”

“Nah, she’s right, Hrau-Ard,” the Doctor reassured him, “don’t be silly! But now I know not to use my sonic at that frequency in your presence.” He beamed. “Besides, what fun would Christmas be without a little bit of unexpected excitement?”

“At least there aren’t any blinkin’ killer Christmas trees, yeah?” Mum pointed out, as Gray finished up with the dermal regenerator.

“Oh yes! Too true. Looking on the bright side, Jackie. Do it while you can, because you know what…?” He bounded out of his chair, tore the remnants of the hapless partridge from his shoulder, and plucked the Santa hat from Dad’s head. He shoved it over his wet, scorched hair and with a wicked grin spreading over his face, he sang: “Jackie Tyler… you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout. I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Oh, God, Santa, the look on Mum’s face. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare…”

“And Santa isn’t happy, Jackie. Really, you better watch out…” He skipped away out of the dining room, heading directly for the kitchen.

Mum took off after him. “You stay away from my appliances. You’re a bleedin’ hellion, you are,” she shouted.

Hrau-Ard honked in alarm and pulled Charlie next to him, wrapping his tentacles around her.

“Don’t worry, love,” Charlie sounded resigned, “you get used to it once you’ve been around this crowd long enough. We’re all a bit mental, but we all love one another.”

So, there it is, Santa. A typical Tyler-Noble Christmas!

I spent quite a while trying to intercept the Doctor before he did any damage to Mum’s kitchen... and other things. I actually found him mucking about in her en suite. Not sure if he managed to do anything before I caught up to him and got him back home, but at least I got to him before Mum did. Like I said before, he looks far too pleased with himself, despite the missing eyebrow and the singed hair. He must have left some sort of surprise behind for Mum. No doubt I’ll hear about it soon enough.

And right now, I’m just waiting for him to “return the favour” he promised me in Mum’s powder room earlier, something about making me scream so loud I’d be heard all the way to Gallifrey. He’s just spending an awful long time in the loo... probably trying out my eyebrow pencils, if I know him. Maybe later I’ll take the TARDIS out, go back a few days, and get him some of his own for his stocking before everyone gets up tomorrow morning.

Happy Christmas, Santa. Give my love to all. Sorry for going off on a bit of a tangent earlier. I was just lying here, waiting for the Doctor and thinking… Oh, I reckon you’re used to it by now, yeah. There’ve been a few tangents over the years and I haven’t had a lump of coal yet. But, just saying, if you feel the urge to leave a lump of coal in the Doctor’s and my mum’s stockings, by all means, go right ahead! I’m all for it!

                                                                                                                                 Love, Rose

[kfawkes]

Eggsy x Reader number 17 for the cute shippy thing. I love the way you write him!! Keep up the great work luv :)

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

[NICE I love Eggsy!! Thanks so much for all the Eggsy prompts guys

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Words: 1.9

Warning: Cursing! Smutt! But not a lot nothin graphic ;)

—Read on Ao3!]

Right now you’re thinking about how you got into this mess, about why this- a fucking storage closet, was the place you two chose to hide. But mostly you’re thinking about all the terribly inappropriate things you want Eggsy to do to you…

You definitely know you shouldn’t be thinking them, but with a jawline like that and a gaze that frequently seemed to be undressing you; it was really hard to stay focused. 

And where you were right now did not help one fucking bit. No, usually being pressed almost chest to chest with hurried breaths parading your chest invoked a different kind of emotion. 

With how dark it was in there, and with Eggsy so close to you; you couldn’t help but smell his skin. He smelled soft and sweet like pine needles maybe, and as you watch his lips you can’t stop thinking about how badly you just wanted to kiss them. 

There are feet shuffling by outside, and that’s literally the only thing that’s controlling you. Part of you used this time to wonder again why you’d choose a fucking closet of all places to hide… Two Kingsman agents with extensive training hiding in a storage closet. 

It all sounded like the start of some kind of shitty joke, but your life was full of moments like these and you were failing to see the humor.

The quiet patter of feet was unexpected with what Merlin led you to expect. Your target was professor Derek Traynor an astrophysicist, and you were to subdue him after University hours. So here you are a little after 9 at night when you realize Mr. Traynor had some late night guests… 

And rather than knocking out a bunch of harmless teachers… you opted to… hide in the… closet? 

Alright the plan didn’t make a lick of sense, but it just sort of happened? And when Eggsy grabs your hand and pulls you into a closet, you fucking follow him. Thank god you didn’t have to transmit this disaster of a mission to Merlin because this shit was getting bad, even for you.

“Oh, fuck…” You said under your breath as the voice outside started their unexpected meeting. 

“Think we’ll be here awhile, luv.” Eggsy whispered to you, leaning close to your ear as he place a hand to the wall by your head in an almost lazy fashion.

If only he knew how many ways you wanted to…

“All thanks to your plan…” You reminded him in a whisper, pursing your lips almost too playfully as you listen to the muffled voices outside the door.

It wouldn’t have been hard to subdue them, no, of course not. You two were flawless together… But they were teachers, not trained, and most definitely not dangerous. The meeting shouldn’t take long… probably. And after that, Mr. Traynor will be easy as cake to snatch up. So you two were just going to have to wait this one out… 

Which, under the circumstances was really fucking hard. 

The circumstances being how badly you wanted him, of course… and it was hard to keep yourself from looking at him in there; especially with how closely he seemed to be inching. The way the specks of light barely lit him through the cracks of the door, the way his hair had fallen slightly out of place… The way his lips sat slightly parted, as they curled into a soft smile. It all only made you want him more.

Eggsy made a habit of standing close to you, and maybe that’s why you were so intoxicated anytime he leaned in, or touched your hands lightly as he pass. It could be any one of the times you woke beside him; with his arms wrapped around you tightly after too long a night planning missions… 

But you had many friends who were touchy, and you yourself were quite affectionate with people you were close with. Even you knew close proximity didn’t always mean something. Looks didn’t necessarily mean anything either… 

You could speculate and fantasize as much as you wanted, but the truth was you didn’t know. And that you wouldn’t know unless you fucking asked or… did something else equally as damaging, like… I don’t know– kissing him?

Seems a bit extreme especially since you were on a mission, but that’s exactly what you did. 

One second you were listening to the soft sound of his breath at your ear, letting that spiced earthy smell surround you and the next… you grabbed the back of his neck, and pressed your lips to his like a breath of fresh air. 

You weren’t sure whether to be more shocked that you kissed him or that he kissed you back truthfully. And once you could feel him pulling you closer, you pushed into him more; sliding your hands into the back of his hair, pulling his mouth to your neck…

Eggsy knew what he was doing, that became very obvious. He slid his hands up your side and chest with just the right amount of pressure and yearning and you couldn’t help but let out an airy moan, because god damn did he feel good. 

When you turned into him, pushing him into the wall it was clear you’d both forgot where the fuck you were. You tore at his jacket fervidly, sliding your hand down the front of his pants–

And then the fucking door opened. 

You both were like a deer caught in the headlights with eyes widened and shirts half opened amorously. In those split seconds of clarity before the shirt storm of your situation, you thanked the fucking universe that Merlin hadn’t been watching in…

“What in heaven?” A short stout man asked with his jaw so low it was almost to the floor, he pulled his glasses from his pocket and began placing them to his face with hurried fingers. 

“Uh… Sir… we’re, just–” You started as you hurriedly pulled your shirt closed, as you tidied your hair and anxiously wiped your mouth. 

It wasn’t often you forgot who and what you were… But in your fluster you reverted back to that blubbering 16 year old that made excuses like it were a hobby.

“Interns, sir. Just interns.” Eggsy seemed to be having a similar experience as you were, because for some reason he went along with the charade offering his own brand of cover. 

Here you were, explaining your situation to the man you were essentially nicking like frightened children. This joke even you had to admit was a little funny…

Mr. Traynor crossed his arms as he leaned into a heel narrowing his eyes on you two before starting again; this time with apprehension lining his voice. “For whom?”

“Uhm…” Eggsy said as he swallowed, pulling his eyebrows about as he search for an answer. 

For being one of the Kingsman’s best agents, he sure was not acting the part right now. When the professor slanted his eyes suspiciously Eggsy pursed his lips in disappointment, switched his watch to amnesia and pointed it at the man. “Sorry bout this, bruv.”

You watched as he fell to the floor in a loud thud, holding your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “Okay.” 

As you look down at Mr. Traynor you began nodding far too assuredly; but the only thing you did know for sure, was that there was no coming back from this. “Well… at least we can get him out of here… easier? Right?” 

Except, there was nothing easy about carrying a man out of a college Uni in the middle of the night. And there as nothing easy about you two… Alright the first might be a bit easier to control, but the second? The second one you didn’t even know where to start.

At this point you didn’t want to look at Eggsy because you’d literally been seconds from having ripped off all his clothing in the middle of a fucking mission. Right now if you could think of literally anything but that, you’d have been happy. Every part of you wished this was one of those high stress missions instead… that you had some baddies to shoot or something equally distracting. 

Only you didn’t. What you had was a passed out professor and someone you weren’t ready to admit you needed.

Eggsy didn’t seem as disheveled as you were though, which was about as surprising as what had just happened. He looked calm, cool and far more collected than you were. Just like he always did, and for a second you weren’t sure if you just made all of it up.

When you couldn’t decide, you slid your hand to your mouth lightly covering it as you pull your other arm to rest on you hip. “Let’s call Merlin, then?”

“Don’t feel like talkin’?” Eggsy asked ignoring your question as he pulled his tie to its normal spot at the base of his neck; all the while sending you the same look from before… That same sure and confident look, like he could spend hours getting lost in you.

“Not sure it’s the time for that…” You replied as you turn slightly taking a step away. 

“He ain’t goin’ no where, and Merlin can wait.” His reply was quick, but thought out somehow and delivered deliberately with the smallest smile. The voice he used was smooth and lined with insinuation as he look to your lips when he finish. “Think we needa talk bout this, luv…”

“Someone could see us… see him.” You protested only slightly, knowing no one else was coming. But you said it anyway, because that may have been fun, but the conversation he wanted to have most definitely wouldn’t be. 

“Ain’t you s’pposed to be good at this?” Eggsy tiled his head lightly, sending you the softest pair of eyes you’d ever seen as he took a step towards you. When he did you felt a cascade of butterflies erupting low in your stomach sending ripples across every surface of your body.

“You’re cheekier today…” Was all you managed to get out, because there really wasn’t anything to say that he didn’t already know. So you just locked your eyes on his as he creep closer to you.

“Was you always plannin’ on kissin’ me like that?” He asked again, the amount of fun he was having seeped through his undertones, and now he was only inches from your face again sporting a boyish grin. 

When you watched the way his brows raised, and the curve of his lips you realized there was no use in being modest anymore. No use in pretending there wasn’t something going on anymore either. No use in pretending this big fucking joke didn’t just land you the best person you’d ever met… 

Plus, now that Eggsy had just felt you up, had his tongue in our mouth… There really wasn’t much use in denying your feelings any longer, right?

Right. So you stood straight, crossed your arms and leaned your face closer to his. “Got tired of waiting for you to do it.” 

There was a certain air of confidence when you spoke that surprised the both of you. You watched a smile fully spread as he let out a short laugh then ran his tongue lightly to the corner of his mouth clearly enjoying the display before him. 

“Guess I better stop fuckin’ about then, yeah?” After a second he placed his hands to either side of your face pulling you in again, and when he did it felt like fucking fireworks. 

There were plenty of other things you should be thinking about, plenty of things you should be doing… Not kissing Eggsy next to an unconscious man during a mission for starters, but here you were: the butt of your own joke, and finally seeing the humor in it.

[kingsofeverything]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

1. List of works published this year: 

In the order that they were posted

Fall At My Door 

Collide

Mercedes Boy

The Oldest Magic Word 

With a Word (part 2 of FAMD)

Possessing All of Me (part 2 of MB)

It Had To Be You 

One of Many 

Stranded in a Dream

How Fast You Fall

Soft Wings

Has The Ocean Lost Its Way 

Splish Splash 

Don’t Want Shelter 

Wasted Like A Memory (part 2 of DWS)

Just Around the Corner 

Find You Home 

Sweating ’Til My Clothes Come Off

Number 84 

Let Me In (part 3 of DWS)

Admission

Intention

Resolution

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Don’t Want Shelter, definitely. The idea for it came to me over a year ago, and that was basically exes to lovers stuck in a hurricane together. I tried to write it earlier in the year and scrapped it. It was a completely different story and they were actually exes, but it just wasn’t working. RIP those 10k words. But I set out to write something with more emotion and I wanted to write something different and I feel like I succeeded. I’m very emotionally attached to their characters in DWS too. It’s been hard to get my head out of that universe.

I’m putting the rest under a cut because this got really long.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Soft Wings. It was soooo hard to write at that time. I was just struggling to write anything at all and every single word of that fic was a giant pain in my ass. It was a bday gift and I actually decided not to do gift fics anymore because of how hard it was to write. The last gift fic I wrote was DWS and it was like 2 months late-- sorry about that @justafatbirdonaboat <3

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

So, this was actually difficult and I would rather include the sex scene I mention below in question 7, but it’s long and... it’s smut and I feel like dropping it in here with nothing leading up to it or after it takes a lot away from it. This is from DWS:

If he keeps himself busy enough, which he’s fairly successful with, he doesn’t have time to think about Harry and how once again he practically laid himself bare for absolutely no reason. It’ll fade, he knows that, but at the same time he doesn’t want it to. It’s how he finds himself going out of his way to some specialty store to find Harry’s organic cinnamon toothpaste. It’s why he bought some fancy vanilla candle for his bedroom. He’s fighting with himself over trying to forget and wanting to remember, because he knows that eventually it’ll be gone no matter what he wants. The toothpaste will be empty and the candle will burn down, and it’ll all become a distant memory.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

i got a super long and detailed comment on FAMD from one of my favorite drarry authors and bloggers that came at the perfect time when i was feeling really shitty about writing and also life in general. it was such a surreal thing for me because i was reading the comment and it was just super lovely and the whole time i was reading it i was like OMFG and fangirling lol

all of the comments on DWS from people who read it as a WIP. they were like some sort of super fuel for me. and it was... idk a special thing for me. i’ve never done a WIP before and idk if I ever will again. it just worked out with that fic because of the chapters and betaing etc. but every time i posted a chapter and people would comment on it, it was just... idk it meant a lot that anyone would follow along, i guess.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Writing Soft Wings, so late May, and then again after I posted DWS, I struggled with Sweating ’Til My Clothes come off. That was Reason #14 and literally NO ONE wanted to write that prompt, so I took it. Mainly though, my struggles have been with fics that either I’ve abandoned (the old version of DWS) or my unfinished sci fic au.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

i feel like everything i write surprises me. i’m constantly shocked that i write anything at all. i think that most of dws was surprising to me. i had a vague idea of what i wanted their personalities to be like, but the way they ended up was so much better than i thought they’d be. I MEAN, i legit thought that the entire fic would take place over 3 days and would end when the storm ended! and then the storm ended and i was like... wtf i’m not anywhere near finished with this. and then a scene specifically, umm... there’s a sex scene in ch 7 of dws that ended up being wayyyyyyyyyyy more emotional for me to write and it still makes me sad to read it. and i’m like 99.999999% sure if you’ve read that fic, you know what i’m talking about. i wrote that and immediately was messaging nic like “i’ve made myself sad with smut! what is wrong with me?”

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i’m much less messy, though i’m still messy. i think i was easier on my beta this year. less cliche (unless i’m cliche on purpose) and better at getting the emotions across? I DON’T KNOW @louandhazaf is better at this stuff. she answered a different question about this earlier in the year actually.

wait. also. i think i’m better at conceptualizing a story BEFORE i start writing. i still suck at it, but not as badly as last year. 

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

i’d like to write another long fic. i’d like to get better at developing secondary characters. i’d like to write more emotion into my fics. i’d love to be better at outlining and planning fics, but idk if that’s who i am lol 

tbh i’d like to be better at the part of writing that, up until this point, and to a certain point, come naturally to me. i don’t think about my character’s motivations or what they’re separate stories are or backgrounds and shit like that until i’m writing and sometimes i do it and don’t realize i’m doing it? i guess? I DON’T KNOW. coming from a math background and never having written or even taken a creative writing class or anything like that, like... some of the most important aspects of writing, i have no clue about them. at least that’s how i feel. a lot of what i do is just................. like me flying by the seat of my pants. 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

this is my answer from last year and i’m just going to leave it because it’s still true.

NIC @louandhazaf​ my friend and forever beta. one day we’re going to take over the world. just depends which one of us is in charge of the brain that day as to whether it’s for good or evil.

however, i’ll add to this a bit. nic is the best cheerleader and beta and all of that. bouncing ideas around with her is always fun and always productive. we laughed so hard when we were talking about ideas for DWS. like... i think we both laughed so hard we cried. 

having writer friends -- so all of you -- has been such a positive thing for me. knowing that we all sort of go through the same shit makes it easier when it’s my own lol. 

specifically, i’ll say that @phd-mama influenced me with her fic ‘feels like coming home’ because i read that fic and when i finished i decided that i needed to write something with more emotion behind it, something with a really great (though not necessarily good) back story. the history between her characters in that fic..... idk a lot of it hit home for me. and because of that fic, i wrote DWS. so, thanks <3 

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

ummmm... yes. let’s just say.......... yes.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

yes! write what makes you happy, even if that means writing something sad and depressing. but also try to challenge yourself to write things you’re not used to or things you haven’t done before. also, just write. you can edit later. put words down.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

my near misses fic, which is what i’ll call it until i title it, that i am super excited about (this one just came to me yesterday)

moodboard fic - it’s anon, so i can’t say anything other than that. i started it, but i think i’m going to start over. 

2 time stamps for ‘don’t want shelter’. one that takes place the summer they’re 13, and one that takes place between chapters 8 & 9, but before ‘let me in’

my sci fi au - it’s been kicking my ass for most of this year 

i have a fic idea where they go from friends to lovers, but it’s a long long road to get there. idk if i’ll get to it. it would be loooong. 

i want to do a valentines fic but idk if i’ll have time. i’d like my near misses fic to be for valentines, but that’s a lot of pressure on me and then on my beta.

28 proposals with jess @someonethatsfunny and if we want to do it for an advent fic for next year, i need to at least write a proposal per month. 

i want to do the new relationship travel the world fic with nic @louandhazaf that we’ve talked about co-writing, but we both have so much going on......... 

oh and the tiny penis fic series. which is 5 short fics that are not connected, but one of them has a tiny penis in each fic (it switches around and also maybe they both do in one fic)

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

I would like to tag all of my writer friends, sooo you’re all tagged. Also, this is more than 3, but idc

@dinosaursmate @allwaswell16 @letsjustsee @gaycousinlarry @goodmorningtoyouuniverse @assisreal (writing or art, saori! or both!) @prettytruthsandlies @someonethatsfunny @phd-mama ok i’ll stop tagging so that y’all will have people you can tag lol