khaosworks | [Who fanfic]: Romana Before Christmas

First ever Doctor Who fanfic. May your judgment be merciful, or swift.

The Fourth Doctor: Romana Before Christmas

"Romana, we've landed!"

The Doctor called out to her as he flicked the switches that turned on the TARDIS scanner. Romana breezed into the console room, almost hopping with enthusiasm. The Doctor observed that since her regeneration, the young Time Lady had developed a slightly flightier, more playful personality. He hadn't quite decided if it was an improvement or not.

"Right," she said, looking at the scanner, the picture blurry as the Doctor focussed in and out. "Where's the randomiser landed us this time?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," the Doctor said, checking the instruments. "Scanner's a little... snowy. The coordinates look familiar, though. Oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere... balance looks right... Ah!"

"What?" Romana spun around, wide-eyed.

"I've discovered why the scanner is a little snowy."

"Why?" she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

The Doctor grinned. "Because it's snowing outside." She relaxed, and gave him a look. "Get your coat on," he told her, "You're going to enjoy this."

The snowflakes glowed in the light of the streetlamps as the two time travellers stepped out of the police box. A light layer of white covered everything, while just beyond the alley where the TARDIS had landed, bright multicoloured lights flashed and beckoned.

They stood looking out of the alley into the street beyond. Strung across it and between the buildings were even more lights, red, green and yellow, some blinking in patterns. All around, people moved back and forth, quickly, wrapped up in winter clothes, some carrying bags, some with boxes in their arms.

Romana looked puzzled. "Where are we?" she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

"Earth," the Doctor announced, throwing the end of his scarf over his shoulder, "Sometime in the early 21st century, I should say, judging by the pollution."

"All this activity... is there some kind of crisis going on?"

"Crisis?" the Doctor cast her a glance, then looked thoughtful, "Well... you could say that. It's the last night for shopping. Tomorrow's Christmas Day."

"Christmas?"

"An Earth festival. Celebrating the winter solstice, and the birth of one of their deities. Sort of like Otherstide, back home. You remember Otherstide dinner, don't you? Ghastly relatives you never see the rest of the year, banal conversation about which cousin is getting better marks at the Academy..."

"Dining on leftover Flutterwing for the next three spans..."

"Exactly."

"And Christmas is like that, is it?" Romana asked warily.

"Yes... well, no." The Doctor shifted his weight to the other leg, and tilted his head, "A bit. Depends, really. It actually can be rather nice. Come on..."

The Doctor took her hand, her delicate fingers feeling almost ridiculously small compared to his as they stepped out into the street. On the corner a man dressed up in a Santa suit stood next to a donations bucket, ringing his bell. Through a window, they could see shop assistants ringing up purchases and wrapping them in shiny gift paper. Outside another building were a group of carollers, voice raised in harmony and singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

Romana tried to remember her primitive anthropology classes and struggled to analyse what she was seeing. "Are they buying sacrifices for this deity whose birth you said they were celebrating?"

"No," the Doctor said, shaking his head, "These are gifts, which they'll exchange with each other. Christmas is about peace on Earth and goodwill toward men. It's the one time of the year that everyone is nice to each other."

"Aren't they the rest of the time?"

"They are... they do, but Christmas gives them an added excuse to be."

Romana furrowed her brow, "How odd. One would think that you were either a nice person or you weren't. Why create an excuse if you don't really mean it?"

"Now that's judging them too harshly," the Doctor said. "Humans are primitive but complex creatures. Sometimes it's easier for them to attribute things to an outside agency, or to create an occasion for them to express their love for each other without being accused of wanting something in return."

"Isn't that slightly hypocritical?"

"It might be, but it isn't. Not on Christmas." The Doctor smiled, "That's the magic of it all."

"Well, I don't need an excuse to be nice," Romana said, haughtily. Something then caught her eye, and she pointed across the street at a couple under a decorative arch of holly. "What are they doing?"

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, peering. "They're kissing. There's mistletoe hanging on the holly — another Christmas tradition. Any two people who meet under hanging mistletoe are obliged to kiss each other."

Romana looked up at the Doctor. "Another excuse?"

"I suppose," he conceded, "It's a harmless way to gauge affection without any expectations getting in the way. Humans seem to need excuses to do the simplest things, I admit."

"Doctor?"

"Mmm?"

She pointed up. There was a wreath on the wall just above them, and a sprig of mistletoe hanging off it.

The Doctor looked, and simply said, "Oh."

"Oh," repeated Romana.

There was a pause. She gave a sigh, "I'm glad Time Lords don't need excuses..." She locked her gaze to his, "...to do the simplest things."

"No," said the Doctor slowly, "We don't."

They looked up again, staring at the mistletoe, hand in hand, for a very long time.