Sooo... Heyyy. Imma back and IT'S CHRISTMASSS! CHRISTMAS! Yeah baby yeah!

Sorry, I like Christmas far too much.

Anyway, here's a slightly cracky oneshot about the Dalek's and Christmas cause why not. Christmas, wheeee! :)

How the Doctor Stole Christmas

Hundreds of red Dalek drones rolled across the sleek metal floors, activating controls, exchanging nods (Or bobs of the eyestalk) of solidarity and muttering about extermination under the breaths. Which, for the Dalek's, was quite a feat, seeing as their decibel range was from 'Talking in the cinema annoyingly' loud too 'Oh my god my ears my ears' loud. An energy seemed to run through the whole ship, and unspoken sense of expectation. This was the day.

The day the Earth fell.

And, as a species, they were aware that this was said often by them, and was usually followed shortly by the Doctor outsmarting them in a way which usually ended in ritual humiliation and/or death, depending hugely on how many of his close friends/affiliates/nearby pedestrians they had managed to exterminate.

This time though, they felt lucky. Or, as lucky as a Dalek could feel. Which mainly involved a lot of complex mathematical calculations of probability and the ritualistic prayer to their god, namely the mirror.

This time, they would definitely do it.

Definitely. Without a shadow of a doubt. There were no shadows within which their doubt could hide in that, statistically, wouldn't be found and promptly exterminated, usually with lots of shouting and bright lights.

In the centre of the room, on an ever so slightly raised platform, sat the white, supreme Dalek. It watched over the rest of the Dalek's with an air of superiority which bordered on irritating. It turned slowly to the milling drones on the right and barked calmly.


This was the definition of calm, cool and collected as far as the Dalek's were concerned.

A foreword thinking Dalek with his eye on the cushy supreme job, had already prepared the communications and, in a moment of clarity and crazy foresight, had helpfully turned up the volume, as humans voices, as a whole, were very quiet and restrained. With one twist of his sucker (Which, when he was supreme, would be done away with and replaced with something useful, like a whisk. Or a second gun) the communications were beamed directly onto the screen at a volume that could be described as, in a highly censored version, "So ****ing loud it could make a ****ing Dalek **** it's ****ing trousers now turn it down you ****ing **** before I bullock you in the ****ing bullocks. I mean ****ing hell, do you hate me that bloody much?"


The control room erupted in chaos, as Dalek's ran (rolled) in every direction, screaming in abject terror at the sheer volume of whatever was exploding from the screen. As the singer asked if they had their stockings prepared, one Dalek had the bright idea of shooting desperately at the screen.

By the time the singer was exclaiming "IT'S CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISTMAS" the concentration of fire finally managed to overwhelm the screen, destroying it in an explosion of sparks.

Two of the Dalek's slowly turned to one another.

"It must be Christmas…" one said slowly.

"What is Christmas?" the Supreme yelled, fixing every drone with a scowl that, if looks could kill, would have wiped out their whole species by association.

"It is a day, in what the humans call Winter, in which, they give presents to one another and partake in far too much alcohol" the Orange (Scientist) Dalek piped up, trying desperately to shake the song from its head.

"Perfect" the Supreme murmured to himself, causing all the Dalek's in the room to turn to him. "We will invade Earth tonight and enjoy our own Christmas" the Supreme Dalek said, with a voice it probably considered laced with menace. Most of the drones thought it would be better suited if he were holding a particularly fluffy white cat and stroking it. "FORWARD!"

Christmas, 2011 and finally, finally, the streets of London were flooded with people again. It had taken a couple of years without an alien invasion to finally goad the British public back out into London. Now though, the usual festive cheer was back as, with great gusto, the great city of London drowned itself under a great amount of alcohol.

And on one corner, by one ordinary pub, sat a blue police box.

And, in rather conspicuous fashion, out of the police box stepped a two men, one dressed as a Roman centurion and the other as a… Well, the other wearing a tweed jacket and a bow tie. Behind them followed a girl wearing a police woman's outfit with a skirt which was, more likely than not shorter than regulation and appeared to have had scissors and clumsy hands applied to make it so. A drunken man who had just been relieving himself in the corner watched this strange stream of people and rightly decided that he would rather relieve himself on a different corner or, preferably, in an actual toilet.

The three set off down the street.

"Doctor?" Rory asked, wrapping his right arm slightly tighter around Amy to conserve warmth. "Could we have not changed first?" The Doctor didn't bother turning, his focus still seemingly on everything but the pair and mainly the small layer of snow.

"I'm not cold" he replied absentmindedly.

"Well, Doctor, you're not wearing a skirt" Amy replied.

"At least you have tights" Rory shot back.

"Not anymore" Amy murmured to him, causing his eyes to widen.

"Oh yeah"

The Doctor finally turned to face the pair behind him, smiling manically and apparently oblivious to their rather risqué conversation.

"Don't you just love Christmas?" he asked.

"Yes Doctor, I think we established this. Do you think any of these shops are open?" Amy said.

"And weren't you going to see a Marilyn?" Rory added.

"Yes Amy and no Rory. Well maybe. Do you think Marilyn would believe me if I told her I was…"

The other two didn't even have to hear the rest before they responded in synch "Yes".

"Good" the Doctor replied again, once more losing his train of thought. "I swear I came here to stop something… Oh, I'm always like this. It's like I've reached the top of the stairs and I've forgotten what I was going to get, except with a lot more lives at risk and a higher chance of explosions"

"So really we shouldn't think of that at all because it isn't at all the same?" Rory asked half heartedly, discreetly letting his hand roam Amy's back. They were on their honeymoon still.

"I wouldn't say that. They are actually quite alike"

Rory rolled his eyes whilst Amy began to look antsy. Probably from Rory's roaming hands. He could tell this from the way in which her hands were roaming also.

They walked for a moment in silence, the Doctor grinning like a child and wishing every person a Merry Christmas whilst Amy and Rory 'discreetly' felt each other up behind him.

"Doctor… I think I left my um… my coat in the TARDIS and… I want my… coat and…" Amy began.

"I'll come with you. To get your coat. Nothing else" Rory was stopped in his ramblings by a key hitting him in the chest. Even in his half frozen state his free hand (The one that wasn't massaging Amy's left buttock) captured the key instinctively.

"Room 8, first floor. Room service is on me" the Doctor said, grinning at the pair and subtly motioning his head to the hotel they just happened to be standing by.

"Really, thanks Doct-" Rory didn't manage to finish the expression of gratitude before being dragged away by Amy, who was murmuring about 'warmth' 'foot rubs' and 'chocolate sauce', a combination of which the Doctor could not find any real meaning for.

As the two marched very quickly towards the hotel, the Doctor suddenly exclaimed:


His two companions rather reluctantly reappeared in front of him, smiling the smiles of two people who would much rather be having sex right then than listening to their friends crazy ramblings about Dalek's.

"There are Dalek's coming. I thought I would see them off" the Doctor elaborated.

"Oh, do you want us to-" Amy couldn't even finish before she was dragged away by Rory, who was muttering something about 'favours' 'banana's' and 'tights'. Really, the picture got evermore confusing to the Doctor.

He began back towards the TARDIS, grinning to himself and wondering if he had any Jammie dodgers laying around.

The Dalek fleet glided easily past Pluto and it was very hard for the Dalek's to contain their Christmas cheer. A small tree had been set up in the corner of the control room. It was adorned with a few garish Christmas decorations that could, with no exaggeration be described as the most horrific mix of colours to be within a thousand light years of earth since the Sixties.

In fact, the Dalek's seemed to be really getting into the spirit of Christmas, as lots of them argued over tiny useless things loudly and a little drunkly. It wasn't their fault, they were just so very excited for the complete annihilation of Earth.

Because there was no doubt of it this time.

No at all.

And quite suddenly, a blue box wheezed itself into existence in the centre of the room.

See, the tempting fate thing does work sometimes.

Out stepped the Doctor, grinning happily, wearing a long tinsel scarf and a red paper crown.

"Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed loudly.

Half a dozen Dalek kill-o-beams were shot directly at his head. They all seemed to stop, quite magically, just in front of the Doctor.

"It's a Christmas miracle!" The Doctor cheered. "Or I've set up that nifty little force field again… It's actually a very interesting blend of technological wizardry actually. You see, what it does, is it-"

"SILENCE!" The Dalek supreme shouted angrily. "WE WILL DESTROY THE EARTH DOCTOR, AND YOU WILL NOT STOP US! THIS IS CHRISTMAS! OUR CHRISTMASSSSS!" At this the Doctor paused, before slowly replying.

"No. Christmas isn't about fighting and killing… Well, it isn't about invading people!"

"Really? Then what is about… Doctor?"

"Well, it's about… family and… good will to all men and… presents!"

"Presents?" The Dalek replied, not quite understanding the concept of a present.

"Yeah. Presents! It's like you give someone you love a gift. You don't have to love them actually. Just like. Or dislike… Do you want a present?" the Doctor ended his ramblings with a look at the supreme Dalek.

"…I didn't get you anything" the Dalek replied slowly, suddenly looking very flustered for a Dalek.

"That isn't the point though" the Doctor replied. He disappeared into the TARDIS for a second before reappearing holding a long scarf and a fedora hat. He left the TARDIS' protective bubble and, with great speed, adorned the Dalek with the aforementioned clothing.

"Thank you" the Dalek said slowly, looking at the Doctor with a strange look in it's eyestalk and a little robotic sniffle. "Set course for… deep space"

"Yes supreme" another Dalek responded. The Doctor smiled at the supreme Dalek, before it continued.

"Now, exterminate the Doctor!" it shouted. The Doctor's smile turned into a wild grin as he dashed back into the TARDIS, avoiding laser blasts all the way. Just before he slammed the door behind him he turned to the Dalek's and swept his crown off to the supreme.

"Merry Christmas, one and all!" he shouted before entering the blue box. As it disappeared a Dalek turned to the supreme.

"Should we pursue?" it asked.

"No" the supreme answered. "Continue course for deep space"

They didn't even notice that their tree was mysteriously absent.

Amy and Rory were sleeping so peacefully, rather nude, in the bed. The Doctor almost didn't want to disturb the pair. But he'd need help getting the Christmas tree into the room from the TARDIS…

With a murmured 'Geronimo' the Doctor threw himself onto the bed, smiling.

As they awoke either side of him, looking very angry, he wondered whether he would be able to regenerate if beaten to death by two very angry people, one of whom was Scottish and the other whom was an honorary Roman.

Well, he certainly hoped so.

I'm so sorry. Review to tell me just how so very sorry I should be.