Whenever the Doctor celebrates Christmas, things go pear-shaped. So I thought he deserved a cheery oneshot.
However, he hadn't counted on one thing. A fiery redhead called Amy Pond.
Amy/Doctor moments, and sheer Doctor Who chaos.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
"Merry Christmas!" the Doctor's voice sounded around the console room.
Any Pond looked around, bright red hair swinging, until she caught site of the Time Lord's tousled hair swinging down. He was sitting upside down on the ceiling.
"How are you doing that?" Amy backed away, frowning and half-laughing
"Gravity is subjective," the Doctor shrugged, before promptly falling out of the circles of ceiling, and landing on his head, on the grating below. "Not that subjective," he amended, sitting up and rubbing his head.
Amy laughed, walking up to him, "What'd you mean 'Merry Christmas' anyway?"
"What'd you think I mean?" the Doctor looked surprised
"I mean," Amy sighed, "This is a time machine, Christmas is every day, same as Easter, pancake day-"
"That's a thought," the Doctor grinned, "Do we have pancakes? Ought to celebrate that sometime…"
"Doctor," Amy warned
"Alright, alright," he shrugged, "I've activated the Christmas circuits, why not? Whenever I celebrate Christmas, everything goes very badly and very exciting-ly. Is that a word? Oh well, Shakespeare owes me a favour, I'll get him to make it one," the Doctor spoke quickly, mostly to himself, "So this time, I've decided to celebrate it in the TARDIS," he grinned giddily, hastily pulling out a Santa hat and plopping it on his head. "Not as good as a fez," he admitted.
"We've got a Christmas circuit?" Amy blinked
"Of course!" the Doctor was shocked she'd even consider the fact he didn't, "It's got lots of things programmed in!"
"Like?" Amy rolled her eyes
"You know! Christmas things! Baubles, fairies, trees, tinsel, sparkly stuff, cards, snow, holly, mistletoe…"
"Mistletoe?" Amy tilted her head, flirtatious.
The conversation was soon brought to a halt as a tangled ball of tinsel and baubles rolled down into the console room.
"Maybe I should've programmed a tree into that," the Doctor admitted, turning back to the console as a snowman sprouted, fully formed, from the grating below. It looked more like a unicorn than a man, with the carrot placed in the wrong part of the head.
Rory walked along the winding, metal corridors of the TARDIS. He was not having a good day. First, he found robins nesting in his shoes, then it had started to snow in his bedroom, and then a bauble had landed on his head. A few minutes later, and he was almost at the console room, when he slipped over a sudden snowdrift, into a wall of tinsel. He stumbled, flailing, into the centre of the TARDIS, covered in sparkly green and blue.
"What is going on?" he mumbled, laying flat on the floor. He peered up. A penguin waddled past, just in front of his eyes. He blinked.
"Oh, hi Rory," Amy sounded distracted, "This is the Doctor's attempt to put some holiday spirit into the TARDIS."
At that, Rory again buried his head in the snow.
Around the console, the Doctor was doing a mad dance, narrowly avoiding slipping in the snow. Amy watched him, amused, from a seat on the railings. Random decorations were sprouting in chaotic patterns around him, tinsel swirling, descending, before vanishing.
"He's mucked it up again," Amy spoke as if commentating, idly patting a penguin on the head. Oddly, she noted, there was a koala clinging to the central pillar, one wearing a Santa hat. Well, she supposed, Australia probably had Christmas too.
A few sparks shot out of the ceiling, somehow shaped like a tree, narrowly missing the dancing Doctor. The Time Lord didn't know whether or not to laugh. Quickly, rushing, he pulled a lever, struck a few buttons, ducked under some falling tinsel, and somehow managed to keep his hat on.
"That's sorted it," he panted after a few minutes
"Really?" Rory remained flat on the floor, feeling a strand of tinsel fall and land on his back.
"Really," the Doctor grinned, "I've linked it in with the psychic circuits. TARDIS will give all of us what we want for Christmas, and shouldn't overload."
A fizzle as a string of fairy lights died marked his words.
"So, Doctor," Amy tried to begin a conversation as she and the Time Lord walked down a corridor together, "You really think you've got this sorted?"
"Of course," the Doctor scoffed, "Have I ever let you down?"
"Well," Amy paused, thinking, "I do remember someone not being able to tell the difference between five minutes and twelve years."
"That's different!" the Doctor protested.
Amy seemed about to reply, but paused, instead lifting her hand and pointing, with one finger, straight up to the bronze ceiling.
A little sprig of mistletoe was steadily growing, curling out of the metal.
"Doctor?" Amy raised her eyebrows
"Ah-yes," the Doctor babbled, "That's a- actually I don't know what that is, just some speck of dust, something playing up in the Christmas Circuit. Did you know it was never a Christmas decoration until the 18th century? And the tradition you know it by comes from Scandinavia, and, ah-" the Doctor backed away as Amy approached.
Carefully, he buzzed the sonic screwdriver at it, and the two white berries lightly plopped off it, leaving the leaves where they were, empty.
"And did you know, you're only supposed to kiss under the mistletoe when the berries are present," the Doctor spoke hastily, inwardly congratulating himself. "And what about Rory?"
"You can't disobey the mistletoe Doctor," Amy gave a small, slightly sassy, smile.
A few more curls of the plant sprouted from the ceiling, berries also growing, blending perfectly with the snow falling behind it.
"Thanks old girl," the Doctor whispered to himself, sarcastic, facing the TARDIS wall.
A few seconds later, and Amy had thrown herself at him, eerily literally, lips hungrily meeting. The redhead pushed the Time Lord back a few centimetres.
About five minutes later, she withdrew.
"Ok, right," the Doctor muttered, flustered, "Now-"
He was interrupted as Amy Pond again pointed up. Another sprig of mistletoe was growing.
The robins fluttered along the top of the console room. They twirled and spiralled from one edge of the roof to the other, sometimes dropping little chocolates. Rory had taken to sitting underneath the main room, just in the centre so the snow didn't spread to him.
A little curl of mistletoe grew from the grating. He looked up at it, surprised, but as he took a slow step towards it, it seemed to withdraw, as if repelled by his presence.
"Thanks Doctor," he mumbled sardonically.
A few minutes later and he heard a cluttering, a little clanging, and a breathless cry as someone ran along the grating floor above him. There was a relieved sigh, and the snow almost instantly dissipated, trickling away.
"Maybe I just can't have a good Christmas," the Doctor mumbled to himself.
"Oh, I don't know," Amy's voice replied, "That was kinda fun."
Rory clambered out of the chamber below, scrabbling slightly on the snow. The Doctor was still wearing his Santa hat and, oddly, he also appeared to be wearing faint traces of lipstick. Rory put it down to his general Doctor-ness.
"You're safe now," the Doctor sighed, "Christmas circuit deactivated."
"You're sure?" Rory and Amy spoke at once, Rory relieved, Amy almost disappointed.
"Pity," Amy sounded like she was laughing, "Hey, got any Valentine's Day circuit?"