A/N: This story was written for the Oh She Knows Secret Santa ficathon over on LiveJournal, for 'misssara11.' It was beta'd by the lovely 'grey lady of gallifrey,' who is awesome and doesn't laugh when I send her complete rubbish. All remaining scientific blunders/other disasters are my own. Enjoy the story! Jen xx

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It was supposed to be a relaxing, post-adventure trip to watch a glorious sunset on an uninhabited desert planet. “Lifeless,” the Doctor had said as he set the coordinates, “but really quite wonderful. Purest skies this side of the Cigar Galaxy.” He had been smiling merrily when he said it, and so she hadn’t had any reason to doubt him.

Then they had arrived.

It all started out okay; they exited the TARDIS to find the sky beginning to darken, clouds of deep purple drifting against a lilac backdrop. Rose thought it was beautiful. “Oh, wow,” was the first thing she said.

She looked over to find the Doctor smiling at her, a look of rare contentment on his face. “I take it that’s a good response,” he said.

Rose nodded. “Definitely.”

“Good.” He took her hand and led her away from the TARDIS, across an endless sandy plain. The Doctor most definitely hadn’t been lying when he had described to her a ‘desert planet of the highest calibre.’

“Won’t we get lost?” she asked suddenly when it suddenly occurred to her that the landscape all looked the same. They’d never be able to find their way back if they lost sight of the TARDIS.

The Doctor chuckled, apparently amused by her question. “No chance,” he replied. “Not when you have your ever trusty Time Lord as a guide.” He winked at her. “I just want to make sure we have a clear view. Besides, this land is flat for miles. It would be quite an achievement to get lost around here.”

“That’s good.”

They walked on for a few more minutes, the soft, sandy ground making moving heavy going. They chatted aimlessly, the Doctor stopping to pull Rose along when her feet sank too far into the sand for her be able to move forwards without falling flat on her face. He laughed at her annoyed expression when he tugged on her hand to keep her moving even though she was short of breath. She whacked him on the shoulder when he tripped over his own feet and stumbled into her, knocking her down sideways into the sand with him collapsing on top of her with an, “Oof!”

“Not so graceful, Doctor,” she replied as they pulled themselves up and dusted the sand from their clothes.

It was hot on the planet; the still, warm air was heavy and cloying and smelt of ozone. Rose pulled off her jacket and tied it around her waist. She turned and was glad to note that she could still see the TARDIS even though they must have walked for the best part of a mile.

“So, when does this light show start, then?” she asked him.

“Not long,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the sky as he led her on further.

He had brought her to this planet just to see the sunset. Rose had actually laughed when he first said it - sand and sunsets was not something they usually did, probably because it was a little bit too domestic and rather a lot too romantic for the Doctor’s disposition. Her laughing had quickly stopped, however, when she realised he was serious, that he actually wanted to take her to see an alien sunset. She had instantly felt guilty for thinking he hadn’t noticed her penchant for watching night falling on unfamiliar planets: he always noticed. He had chosen this planet because he thought it was the one she would like the best.

“Here we go,” he said after a few more minutes of trudging through sand. He squeezed her hand. “I promise you’re going to love this.”

Rose grinned up at him. “Sounds great.” She opened her mouth to say more but the Doctor held his hand up, silencing her.

“It’s starting,” he told her. He tugged her in front of him, resting his hands on her shoulders and standing so close that she could feel the warmth from his body against her back. “Look straight ahead.”

She did as she was told, relaxing back into the Doctor’s grip and looking at the endless sky in front of her. The dark purple clouds seemed to be evaporating, separating out to leave behind sparkles of silver and gold. The wisps moved across the darkening lilac backdrop of the sky like glitter. Stars started to shimmer. “It’s lovely,” she said.

The Doctor’s face suddenly appeared close to the side of hers, facing the sunset but looking at her. “I know.” One hand dropped down from her shoulder to find her own hand, taking it in is and lacing their fingers together. His breath washed over her face. A huge, shadowed ball of gold dropped slightly in the sky.

Rose gasped. “Is… Is that…?”

“That’s the sun,” he told her. “This planet’s atmosphere makes it appear like a silhouette, taking up most of the sky. You can’t tell it’s there during the day, but when night starts to fall and this side of the planet moves away from the sun…” He trailed off, not needing to complete his sentence. It was more than obvious what happened at dusk.

Rose smiled. “I love it,” said.

“Told you that you would.”

“Smart aleck.”

“You love it.”

She pretended to contemplate this. “Well, you’re not bad,” she said eventually, grinning. They both laughed then, the Doctor’s torso brushing against her back as his chest rose and fell.

A cool breeze blew in as if from nowhere, taking the weight out of the air and blowing the remaining clouds quickly across the sky. The Doctor abruptly stopped laughing and frowned. He raised his finger to his lips to silence Rose as well, and then looked around.

“What is it?” Rose asked. “Doctor?”

“Shhh.” He put one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet and held the other one up in the air as though he was testing the wind.

The… Oh. Suddenly she understood. This was a desert planet. Rose knew all too well about the horror stories from people on Earth who had ended up lost in the desert because the wind had changed the landscape and they hadn’t been able to find their way back. The wind began to blow a bit stronger, whipping up the sand at their feet.

The Doctor stepped in front of her, looking over her shoulder to where they had left the TARDIS. He touched her waist. “Rose, put your jacket on,” he commanded.

She frowned. “But it’s hot,” she protested.

“I don’t care. Put it on.” His voice sounded strained, the way it sometimes did when they were in danger but he was trying not to let on to her how serious it was.

She immediately did as he said, fastening the zip when he told her to and then looking worriedly into his face. He didn’t look at her, and instead kept his gaze focused on the way they had come. He reached up to his neck and unfastened his tie, pulling it away from his shirt. He held it out to her.

“Tie your right wrist to my left one,” he said.

She took the tie and started to do as he said. “Doctor, what’s going on?”

“The wind, Rose,” he told her urgently. “Can’t you feel it getting stronger? Can’t you hear it?”

She paused in her task for a moment and listened intently: sure enough, she could hear the unmistakable whistle of wind as it moved across the landscape. It was starting to blow her hair across her face. “Is it… Is it getting closer?”

The Doctor nodded. “I don’t know how much time we have. We need to get back to the TARDIS. We have to keep it in sight.”

Rose finished securely binding her wrist to the Doctor’s, getting him to hold on to one end when she needed an extra hand. They both tugged on it experimentally to make sure it would hold.

“I don’t want to lose you if visibility gets bad,” he explained in answer to her unasked question. His free hand was rooting in his coat pocket, finally coming out with a pair of cotton handkerchiefs. “Put one of these over your nose and mouth.”

She did as he said with some difficulty due to the binding on her wrist, then took the other square of cloth and tied it around his head awkwardly as he strained to keep the TARDIS in sight. She wondered just how hard it would be to breath in the middle of a sand storm. She wondered just how effective bits of cotton would be at filtering the sand out. She thought that they must look like bandits.

He took her hand once more – slightly awkward now that they were bound together. With his gaze locked on the TARDIS straight ahead, he pulled Rose next to him and began guiding them back to safety even as the wind began to lift up the grains of sand and blow them across their faces.

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The Doctor could feel the sand filling up his shoes as his feet sank down into the desert floor, and he was sure that he would more than likely have a multitude of little scrapes and cuts around his ankles from the tiny pieces of flying rocks and dust. He could feel the tug of his tie on his wrist where he was secured to Rose, and he grasped her hand more securely to encourage her to keep up. He could feel her beginning to falter, but they couldn’t stop just yet. The wind was getting even stronger, and the TARDIS was still quite some way away.

The view in front of him was almost completely obscured by swirling dust and sand and he could barely make out the shape of the blue box that was Rassilon-only-knew how many metres in front of them. He wished he was wearing his glasses. He wished he had checked the weather reports before coming. He hoped Rose would forget about the fact he had told her there was no chance they would get lost as long as he was here.

His breath began to come in short pants as he realised there was a large mound of sand where the ground had previously been flat. They had to get back to the TARDIS before it got any worse. It would be the perfect place for the sand to cluster and then hide the ship from view, the tension in the air blocking his other receptive senses that usually tuned him in to the ship. They couldn’t risk being out here any longer than was necessary, especially as Rose’s physiology couldn’t handle physical stress the way his could. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, he could feel something sticky and wet trickling down his hand where it was joined to Rose’s. He hoped that it was his blood rather than hers.

The Doctor swayed to the side in a particularly strong gust of wind, tripping over his feet. Out of instinct, both hands shot out to break his fall, landing in sand that felt scarily fluid, like water. He heard Rose’s yelp as he pulled on their bindings, dragging her down as well. She managed to stay on her feet, staggering only slightly as she gripped his arm and pulled him up as best she could. She coughed as sand blew in under the fabric covering her nose and mouth.

He swore under his breath as he leaned on his companion for support. He thought that he had twisted his ankle. “I can’t see the TARDIS,” he yelled to be heard above the wind.

“I can,” Rose replied. She was shouting but he barely heard her. She started walking again, less certainly this time, and he followed her, frantically scouting the horizon in search of his ship. He couldn’t see more than a metre in front of him.

They had gone for barely twenty seconds when Rose’s fingernails suddenly dug painfully into the back of his hand. He could feel the panic radiating off her. “Doctor,” she said. He had to listen carefully to be able to hear her. “I can’t see it anymore. There’s too much sand.”

He pulled her to a stop and then drew her in close to his side. “I can’t see it either.”

“What do we do?” The fear in her voice pained him far more than his twisted ankle ever could.

He thought for a moment. Before he could answer, the wind speed increased even more, blowing Rose into him and making him stumble backwards. His free hand went around her waist, holding her body against his. Gripping her tightly, he manoeuvred them over to the space between two mounds of sand close by, positioning them downwind of the larger mound. He hoped that it would offer them some sort of protection. “Come on,” he said, quickly unfastening the tie around their wrists and then pulling off his coat. He gripped the heavy material tightly as the wind caught on to it and tried to carry it away. Wrestling with his coat, the Doctor lay down against the slope of sand and pulled Rose down on top of him, covering their heads with his coat. He tucked the collar and sleeves around him to stop sand blowing in.

“Won’t we get buried in the sand?” Rose asked once they were settled, the roar of the wind blowing all around their little sanctuary.

“Hopefully not,” he replied. He reached up to push her hair away from her face. A stream of sand fell out of it as he tucked the strands behind her ear. He knew that he’d never hear the end of how hard it would be to brush as soon as they got out of here. He winced at the small cuts he saw on her face, and was almost glad of the extremely dim light.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling the covering from her mouth. “If I hadn’t lost sight of the TARDIS-”

“No,” he cut her off, covering her mouth with his hand. “That was my fault.”

She shook her head, the look in her eyes telling him that she wasn’t entirely convinced. Her head dropped to rest against his shoulder, her hands reaching out to help him hold the coat down around them in a particularly strong gust of wind. “Doctor,” she said.

He carefully extracted one hand from the fabric above his head and removed the handkerchief from his mouth, then shifted to wrap his arm around Rose’s waist. He rubbed her back in small circles, trying to comfort her and hoping that he didn’t seem as worried as he felt. Rose shifted above him, her hips pressing down against his. He suddenly became aware of their position, of her weight against him, her breath brushing over his neck. He could still hear the sound of the wind and the sand outside blowing all around them, but they could no longer compare to the sound of the rush of blood through his veins as he realised how close Rose’s body was to his. There was no space between them. A little moan slipped out of him at the wonderful sensations she was unintentionally creating in his body and he was strangely glad for the noise howling around them, hoping it would cover up the sound.

“Doctor,” she said again.

He made a small noise of acknowledgement and she lifted her head to look down at him. He frowned when he noticed that she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead and that little pieces of gravel had embedded themselves in the fleshy part of her cheek. He made a mental note that the med bay should be their first port of call once they succeeded in getting back to the TARDIS.

“Doctor, is it me,” Rose said, frowning, “or is it getting really hard to breathe?”

He thought about it for a moment before deciding that actually, yes, it was slightly difficult to breathe, but that largely because he had Rose’s weight on top of him and the feel of her soft curves pressed against him was making his body do things his mind insisted on denying. His eyes shifted down to hers to find that she was looking slightly dazed, and her breath was coming in short pants. He moved his hand from her back to her cheek, gently brushing away particles of sand before cupping her face in his palm. “It must be the dust,” he said. “It’s starting to clog your lungs.”

“Oh.” She nodded and blinked, her eyes staying shut for a few seconds too long.

“Rose,” the Doctor said. “Stay awake. It’s okay. There’s plenty of oxygen. We’re going to be out of here soon, anyway. Nothing to worry about!” He grinned to let her know that everything was okay, frantically calculating wind speeds and air pressure in his mind to try and work out how much longer this sand storm would last, how much longer they would have to wait. “It will be over in a few more minutes,” he told her once he had triple- and quadruple-checked his maths. He could have told her how long it would be to the precise second and then given her a running countdown, but he thought that she might hit him. No matter how bad the situation or how hurt she was, Rose always seemed to have the strength to hit him when she thought he needed it.

She nodded again. “’kay.” She coughed, her chest sounding slightly congested.

The Doctor frowned, unable to bear the thought of her in any pain. He stroked her hair, tuning out the sound of the howling wind and the feel of sand particles hitting his legs. He focused on Rose, keeping his gaze on hers and smiling softly when her breathing evened out. “That’s it,” he said. “Slow, deep breaths. Does it hurt?”

“A bit. S’okay though.” She shifted uncomfortably above him, her hands flexing where she held his coat down around them. “Doctor, you’re bleeding,” she said.

“Am I?” He had hardly noticed.

Rose’s lips were suddenly at his temple, pressing lightly for just a moment before she pulled her head back to look at him again.

He was sure his eyebrows were currently somewhere in his hairline. “What… Um…”

“Just kissing it better,” she said.

He contemplated that idea before deciding that, yes, her touch had soothed him, among other things. “Rose Tyler, you’re fantastic,” he told her.

She blushed in the dark. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious!” he went on before he could reason with himself why it might be a bad idea. “You’re better than chips. Better than bananas, which is saying something! Better than Christmas.”

“I love Christmas.”

“So do I,” he said quietly, eyes locked on her face, his unspoken meaning all too clear. He opened his mouth to speak again, his voice catching in his throat and coming out as a sound that would be impossible to spell in any language.

Rose shifted above him again, sliding down his body slightly. He thought about telling her to move back, to keep as much of her body under the covering of the coat as possible, but then she nuzzled against his neck, her hot breath washing over his skin and distracting him in all sorts of lovely ways. “You’re pretty fantastic yourself,” she mumbled.

“Better than Christmas?” He was almost embarrassed at the hope in his voice.

She lifted her head and looked down at him, frowning as though she was contemplating something. She wiped her hand over her lips, brushing clinging particles of sand away. She took a breath that shook not from sand-filled lungs, but anticipation, and perhaps just a little bit of nerves. “Better than oxygen,” she said eventually.

They were quiet for a long time, looking at each other under the cover of the flapping coat. Then her face moved towards his, and without realising it he was straining upwards, lips seeking hers. They met in a tentative kiss, just a simple press of lips to lips, breath passing between them. “Better than oxygen”, her words echoed in his mind. He thought that he agreed. “Rose,” he said against her mouth.

She made a noise of acknowledgement, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip lightly. Her tongue followed, making him forget whatever it was he had been planning on saying to her.

“Nothing,” he assured her, fisting his hand in her hair and pulling her closer to him.

They kissed for several long minutes, the Doctor feeding Rose oxygen when she went to pull away for a breath, making sure nothing interrupted them. A mountain of sand could have piled itself on top of them and he wasn’t sure he would have noticed, especially once he had slipped his tongue into her mouth and had discovered what she tasted like – rain and lip gloss and tea. Kissing Rose, he thought, could potentially be more addictive than opium. He wondered why they had never done it before. He resolved to get them lost in sand storms more often.

Rose finally pulled back, resting her forehead against the Doctor’s. “It’s gone quiet,” she said.

He wasn’t sure what she meant – could she not hear his hearts pounding madly against her own?

“The wind’s gone,” she said, when he looked at her blankly.

One second’s analysis told him that she was indeed right; the wind had stopped and, unless he was extremely mistaken, they were not buried underneath the sand. He coaxed Rose’s head down to his chest and held her there whilst his free hand grasped at the collar of his coat. “Shut your eyes,” he told her. “The sand might not be settled properly yet.”

He waited until she had done as he requested before shutting his own eyes and then pulled the heavy fabric away from their bodies. A stream of sand fell down on them, but it slowed after a moment before coming to a complete stop around them. Rose coughed from the sudden invasion of dust, shoving her sandy hair back from her face and grimacing when one hand caught in the tangles. The Doctor wiped sand from around his eyes with one hand whilst gently rubbing Rose’s back with the other, soothing her coughs.

They both shifted at the same time, Rose sliding off the Doctor’s body to kneel at his side. He sat up and looked around them, taking one of her hands in his. “All right?” he asked.

She looked considerably flushed, and he smiled to know that it wasn’t only to do with the heat of the planet. “Yeah,” she replied. “You?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He grinned and then helped her to stand. “There’s some sand in some rather inappropriate places though, and I think that we both need to… Rose?”

Rose was looking up at the sky, which was almost completely dark now, the stars and sparkling silver clouds shimmering against the deep lavender backdrop. “We missed the rest of the sunset,” she said.

He stepped behind her and tentatively slipped his arms around her waist, smiling happily when she instinctively leaned back into him. “We could come back,” he suggested.

She turned in his arms, looping her arms up around his neck. “S’alright,” she told him. “I got something better than a sunset.” She stretched up to press a kiss to his cheek. She looked nervous when she pulled away.

He touched the back of her head. “Definitely. And definitely better than bananas,” he said, returning her kiss. The nervous look faded from her face.

“And Christmas?”

“Absolutely. Perhaps on a par with Christmas miracles, don’t you think?” He winked at her.

She frowned. “What?”

“Look!” He turned them to the left and then pointed. The TARDIS stood fifty metres in front of them, a little bit sandy, but none the worse for wear. “Not bad, eh?”

“Bloody lucky, more like,” she murmured. She looked around the landscape surrounding them, the ground hilly and uneven where it had previously been smooth. The TARDIS occupied what looked like the only unaffected spot for miles.

The Doctor poked her in the ribs. “Now think what Santa would say if you said that about one of his miracles. That’s more than luck!”

“It’s not Christmas though,” she said as they started walking slowly back towards the blue spaceship.

“It is somewhere,” he replied softly. “We have a time machine. It can be Christmas whenever we want.”

She grinned up at him cheekily. “Does that mean you’ll give me presents?”

He leaned down and kissed her nose sloppily. “Maybe. I think your first present will have to be a quick session with the dermal regenerator, though.” He softly traced over the cut on her forehead. “Mine, too,” he added as he mentally catalogued his small store of injuries sustained since arriving on the planet.

“That’s a bit boring,” she said. “Like socks. Or some horrible knitted thing that your gran gives you but you have to pretend to like.”

They came to a stop next to the TARDIS doors. “What do you want instead?” he asked her.

She shook her head, smiling up at him as she wrapped her arms around his back. “Nothing,” she whispered as he held her close. “Already got everything I could wish for.”