Fic: True Love's Gifts (9/13) 10.5/Rose PG
The Eighth Day of Christmas
“Pack your bag, Rose, we are taking a country jaunt.” The Doctor called out as he flung open the door to her room. Rose let out a shriek, grabbing the towel that she had shed moments earlier.
“Bad time?” the Doctor asked, quirking his eyebrow with pleased amusement on his face.
“You think?” she asked incredulously, clutching the towel tighter but grinning back.
“Ah, Rose,” he said with a wink before laying down on her bed, a clear sign that he wasn’t leaving, “you can carry on, don’t mind me one bit.”
She laughed and perched on the bed beside him, letting the towel drop just a bit.
“Why, Ms. Tyler,” he asked, his eyes darkening, “are you trying to seduce me?”
“Always,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss him.
“Your mum is downstairs,” he protested weakly.
“That’s never stopped you before,” she answered.
They broke apart from each other after a moment, and Rose rested her forehead on his and grinned, “Now, what were you saying when you barged in here?”
He looked at her with a dazed grin, “Hmm.”
Smiling, she got off the bed and went to her wardrobe to grab a dressing gown. “You mentioned something about packing a bag.”
“Ah, yes.” The Doctor sat up and began rummaging through his trouser pockets, looking for something. She noticed his hand stilled for a moment and he looked contemplative, stopping to look up at her before shaking his head and searching another pocket.
Finally he pulled out a slightly crumpled white envelope and handed it to her.
“My gift?” she asked coyly.
“Well, not so much your gift, but a note telling you about today’s gift,” he answered cheekily.
Rose shook her head and hoped that it would be something that he would enjoy too. Last night had been a near disaster, and she was amazed that they hadn’t been escorted out; it wouldn’t have been the first time such a thing had happened.
“Open it, Rose.” His voice was soft as he pressed the envelope into her hands.
She opened the envelope and found this day’s note:
On the eighth day of Christmas, the Doctor gave to me a day out in the country.
Rose looked up at him, “So, we going away again?”
“If that’s all right,” he answered hesitantly, his eyes on her. He added hurriedly, “I talked to Jake and he assures me he will not allow aliens to invade during the next 24 hours.”
Laughing, Rose approached him. “It sounds brilliant.”
***
Three hours later they were strolling through a church charity bazaar, hands clasped, occasionally stopping to examine something that caught their eye. The Doctor had taken her to a small village about an hour outside of London where he had found a small bed and breakfast where they were to stay for the night.
The elderly woman who owned the establishment had directed them here, explaining that there wasn’t much to do in the town during the winter. She hinted that most people arrived in the summer to take in the farmer’s market and other outdoor activities. But the Doctor had simply smiled, taken the room key, and wished her a pleasant day.
“Rose, look at this,” the Doctor exclaimed and pulled her towards a booth that was full of handmade quilts.
“You know, I think this had to be created by the inhabitants of Sorkin Five,” he said excitedly and lifted the quilt up for closer inspection. “What do you think, Rose?”
“Says here,” she answered, “it was handcrafted by the Sunset Women’s Guild.”
“Hmph,” was the only response she got as he continued fingering the material. Then, before she could stop him, the Doctor lifted the quilt up, sniffed it and then licked it. Rose wasn’t sure who was more horrified, herself or the gray-haired woman who was staffing the booth. With apologies and what she was sure was a look of mortification on her face, Rose tugged him away from the quilt and back into the mainstream of people.
“A bit of copper in the taste, that’s not normal is it?” the Doctor asked still tasting the quilt on his tongue. “You know, Rose, you ought to call Jake up to investigate. Sorkinians are usually peaceful, but….”
“Doctor, can I ask you something?” she asked, hoping to distract him from the quilt out of concern that he might turn around and go back to the booth to further mortify the woman with crazy questions about alien planets.
“Of course,” he said, finally looking away from the quilt booth and looking at her.
“Well,” she started, “it’s about the gifts.”
“What about them?” He was smiling but she could sense the sudden shift in his attitude. He seemed to be wary of her now.
“Just wondering how today fits into the song.” When he looked at her blankly, she continued. “Well, day one you gave me bananas and a Partridge Family CD-“
“Which we haven’t listened to yet,” he interrupted. “Hey, you didn’t bring it with you, did you? It would excellent driving music for the way back.”
“No,” she laughed, “I did not bring it with me. But that’s the thing Doctor, day two instead of two turtle doves, I get two dove chocolate turtles. Day three, three nights in Paris -- obviously going along with three French hens.”
“Yes, I know.” He cut her off before she could continue with the explanation, and she saw him eyeing the quilt booth again.
“Then what does a day in the country have to do with day eight?” she quickly asked.
“Cows,” he answered simply.
Rose stared at him for a moment, wondering if it was possible the Doctor had lost his mind. “What?” she asked.
“Cows, Rose, live in the country,” he replied slowly as if explaining a difficult concept to one of his students.
“And maids,” he continued, “milk cows in the country. Any other questions, Ms. Tyler?”
“Shut it you,” she said, grinning.
“Good. Now, I suggest a phone call in to Torchwood. I think our quiet evening just took a different turn,” he said glancing back at the booth again, where a security agent was now standing and talking with the older woman. Both of them were looking their way.
“I have a better idea,” Rose answered, slipping her hand into his. “Doctor, I suggest we run.”