Christmas Crackers
Title: Christmas Crackers
Chapter: II of III
Author: bagheera_san and x_los
Rating: PG
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master, Brig, Jo, Benton, Yates
Summary: The Master crashes UNIT's Christmas party with a deadly slay-ride.* Three knows Venusian Snowball Akido. The Brigadier is not drunk, dammit. Jo tries to teach everyone the True Meaning of Christmas and finds her audience somewhat unappreciative.
Beta: aralias, who is splendid, absolutely unlike any sort of crustacean and is neither horrible nor married.
A/N: We started this last Christmas and I flaked. Er. It's um, done now? MERRY CHRISTMAS, DAMMIT.
Previous: Chapter I
*Yes, I meant that pun. No, I'm not sorry.
think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed.
Next year I could be oh so good,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.'>
Christmas Crackers
Part II
Slowly, in rolling, lumbering motions, the snowmen had begun advancing on UNIT headquarters.
Suddenly the Master's decision to attack on Christmas made a great deal more sense. The snow was dampening every noise, and had probably cut them off from all reinforcements. So far it seemed as if the only unusual activity was the snowmen’s advance, but instead of going back inside, the Doctor rounded the complex to check if there was anything else afoot.
The windows of the common room had misted up. Only a bright golden glow from inside showed through them. The tortured strains of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen appeared to have given way to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The Doctor rapped his knuckles harshly against the glass, wondering if he should just break it. But someone approached, and a moment later, after some struggling, Jo opened the window.
"Doctor!" she exclaimed, still cheerfully drunk. "What are you doing out there? It's freezing - hey!" She leaned outside, and her face lit up with a different kind of joy. "I don't believe it! Goodness, I haven't seen that much snow since I last went skiing! It's a Christmas miracle!"
"Yes, well, there's no time for that now, Jo," the Doctor told her impatiently. "I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem. There are snowmen - "
"Snowmen! Oh, what a brilliant idea! I'll go fetch my coat," Jo beamed and hurried off in a more or less straight path, calling over her shoulder, "Don't start without me!"
In fact, the Doctor thought sourly as he climbed in the window, not only did the Master's plan make sense (for once), it was actually ingenious. This Christmas party had rendered UNIT completely defenseless.
He located the Brigadier-not difficult, as the man had yet to abandon his post by the buffet-and maneuvered his way through the merry crowd. No one much paid attention to the fact that he was tracking sludge across the floor, or that his cloak was dusted with snow, although some people started to complain about the draft.
"I fear the party's over," the Doctor said to the Brigadier when he reached him.
The Brigadier glanced vaguely in the Doctor's direction, raised his glass of eggnog in a shaky toast and downed it. He smacked his lips. "Yes, very good. Carry on."
Rolling his eyes, the Doctor snatched the Brigadier's glass away and put it down on the table, out of reach. "Pull yourself together, man. There are animated snowmen advancing on us, and I very much doubt that their intentions are friendly."
The Brigadier blinked. "Snowmen, you say?" Sobering up a bit, he scowled at his scientific advisor. "Very funny, Doctor. Is this your idea of a joke? I'll have you know I'm not - not quite that drunk yet."
"Not my idea of a joke, no," the Doctor replied, "but it seems to be the Master's. Now I'm not usually one to say so, but this seems like a situation where we could use your men and arms."
Across the room, the Doctor caught a glimpse of Jo, now packed tightly into her enormous coat, trying to climb out the window. Granted the only door out of the room was now blocked by a spotty private standing pointedly under the mistletoe sprig that some wit (very likely Sergeant Benton) had hung in the doorjamb, and the window was low to the ground, but it was still an unorthodox mode of egress. "No, Jo, what on earth are you thinking,don't go outside!" he called.
In the same moment there came a loud crash from above them. The pictures on the walls, the doors, and even the Christmas tree shook as if there were an earthquake. A gasp went through the room, and Jo tumbled outside with a squeak.
The Brigadier raised his eyebrows, visibly sobering up. "What was that about a situation, Doctor?"
"I believe we're under siege."
"On Christmas? Very well, if you say so." The Brigadier shook his head, then began barking orders. "Men, prepare to take action! This is not a drill. Benton, take someone and secure the perimeter! Captain Yates, stop trying to peek at the presents and get a look at whatever that was on the roof!"
Hectic activity suddenly filled the room, and over the din, the Doctor and the Brigadier only just heard Jo's excited, "Oh, look! A sleigh! And real reindeer!"
*
"I'll be - !" the Brigadier said. "What in blazes is that man doing?"
He, Jo and the Doctor stood outside the window staring up at the sky. The thick cover of snow clouds had broken, and a patch of starry sky and a bright half-moon were visible, as was something that was most definitely neither a plane nor a helicopter.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jo said. "He's disguised himself as Santa Claus."
"Yes." The Doctor squinted up at the sleigh, which, after performing a graceful curve in the air, was coming back towards UNIT HQ. From this distance the Master was only just discernable as a small figure wearing a long scarf that flowed in the breeze.To the Doctor, it didn't look as though the Master was disguised as Santa Claus, since that would at least have included a false beard, and he knew how much the Master loved that sort of thing. If he intended to impersonate that jolly old elf, the Master could never have ignored the opportunity to dress for the occasion. He obviously wasn't trying to be stealthy. Right before his sledge vanished behind the building, the Master raised one hand and waved.
"Somehow he's managed to engineer a flying sledge. It takes a dapper hand to tune the inertial dampeners so finely. I wonder - "
The Doctor was interrupted by the Brigadier's radio, which crackled into life. "Sergeant Benton reporting, Sir."
"Speak," the Brigadier said.
Benton sounded nervous. His voice was hushed. "I'm sure you've seen the, um, sleigh by now, sir…"
"Yes, we have."
"Well, I'm at the southern perimeter now, and he seems to have dropped presents, Sir."
"Presents." The Brigadier's tone was deadpan, but he glared at the Doctor as if this were all his fault.
"Gift-wrapped presents, sir. With proper bows "
"Get to the point, Benton!"
"Sir, the presents have started moving-and something’s coming out! It's, um. They're - I don't know how to say this, sir."
"Just get on with it!"
"Santa's little helpers, Brigadier. They've come out of the gift boxes. And I think these elves are hostile."
"Hostile? And how have you managed to deduce that, Benton?"
The question had been laced with sarcasm, but Benton didn't pick up on it. "Well, they're shooting these sort of laser beams from their eyes, sir."
"Ah." The Brigadier seemed to have reached a state of Zen in the face of all this. "Get back here, Benton." He continued giving orders, but Jo interrupted, still looking delighted.
"Are there really elves, Doctor? Do you think the Master has hypnotized them?"
The Doctor scoffed. "Another creation of the Master's, no doubt. Just like those snowmen and all the snow." He took the radio from the Brigadier. "Benton? This is the Doctor. Try something for me, will you?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Throw a snowball at those elves. I want to see what they're made of."
A rustling and crunching sort of noise came over the radio, accompanied by a very critical look from the Brigadier. Just then, Captain Yates came running around the corner of the building.
"Sir," he gasped.
"Report."
"The roof appears to have been damaged by St. Nick, sir."
"Don't be silly, Captain Yates, we're dealing with the Master here."
"Oh, him." Yates glanced at the Doctor with what looked almost like a wink. The Doctor pretended not to have noticed it. "Crashing the party, is he?"
"Yates," the Brigadier said sharply.
"My apologies, sir. It's the eggnog." Jo giggled, and Yates valiantly fought a snort before finishing his report. "I think he rammed one of the chimneys with his flying sledge. He seems to have given up on landing on the roof now."
"Very well. Get some men and bring that sledge down. Permission to fire at will."
"At Rudolph, sir?" Yates inquired.
"At any damn person or thing that's cocky enough to think that they can attack us in our own HQ at Christmas!" Lethbridge-Stewart snapped, his Zen forgotten.
"Brigadier!" Jo seemed shocked. "Those poor reindeer haven't done anything! And don't you think it's all rather nice of the Master, in a funny sort of way? He's brought us snow on Christmas. It hasn't snowed on Christmas Eve in ages, not since I was a little girl."
But neither the Brigadier nor Yates were listening to her, because another report had just come in that the snowmen had started shooting at the science wing. The Captain saluted and ran off to defend the Doctor's equipment before Jo could get another word in.
A moment later, a small, tinny whoop of victory could be heard from the Brigadier's radio.
"Success," Benton reported. "The elf exploded as soon as I hit it with a snowball. It appears to be some kind of robot."
The Doctor nodded, stroking his chin. "I thought so. The Master's done shoddy work on those elves. Cheap animatronics are always vulnerable to water. I bet those reindeer are no better."
The Brigadier took the radio back from the Doctor. "Very good, Benton. Get more men and proceed with the snowballs."
*
The battle had split and was now being fought on three fronts. Near the forest, Benton and a couple of other soldiers were fighting off the elves. A second group of UNIT soldiers under Captain Yates was attacking the snowmen, who proved to be more of an inconvenience than an actual threat, because it turned out that they moved at a snail's pace - they had no legs, after all - and their ammunition consisted exclusively of unlit coals. "It's quite mess in the laboratory," Yates reported over the radio, "but we should have it under control soon."
The largest contingent of UNIT personnel by far had gathered at the north side of the complex. The Master had finally managed to land his sledge between the brick building and the duck pond, and a fierce battle was in progress there. Once let loose the reindeer attacked with their antlers and displayed the unexpected ability to shoot lightning bolts when they stomped on the snowy ground.
Unfortunately for the Master, the reindeer proved as vulnerable to well-placed snowballs as the elves.
The soldiers had been joined by everyone who could throw a snowball - or thought they could despite the amount of eggnog and sherry they had consumed. This included the janitor, the tea lady and quite a few of the UNIT staff’s spouses, who on the whole fought valiantly despite their festive evening gowns and excessive jewelry. The Brigadier had quickly given up on sharp shooting, and was now trying to organize the snowball fight. While this hadn't precisely been the Doctor's intention when he’d suggested using snow to Benton, he was quite happy with the outcome. If he had his way, all battles would be fought with snow rather than bullets.
Sneaking from hedge to hedge to get closer to the sleigh, the Doctor and Jo could hear the Brigadier's voice calling orders: "Scoop now! Pack now! And… throw! Mr Bell, for heaven's sake, take cover! That reindeer almost got you!"
Crouching behind another hedge, the Doctor craned his neck to get a better look at the sleigh. "Where is he? I can't see the old scoundrel anywhere, he must be up to something."
"There are still presents on the sledge," Jo observed. "Do you think… ?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid, if anything, lethal elves and rampaging reindeer are the Master's idea of an appropriate Christmas present, Jo."
"I suppose you're right. Still," she grinned up at him from under the hood of her coat, her cheeks flushed and her breath puffing in the cold air, "you can't deny that this is probably the most fun a UNIT Christmas party has ever been. Oh, look! There he is!"
The Doctor turned his head. Jo was right-there was the Master, emerging from behind the tower of presents on the sledge. He held what looked like some sort of remote control. It looked as if the Master had made a token effort to dress suitably for the weather, but had given up half-way through: he wore a long red scarf wound several times around his neck and white knitted gloves, but underneath that he wore his usual grey Nehru suit and shoes that would probably be ruined by the snow.
Without taking his eyes off the Master, the Doctor scooped his hands over the ground, gathering snow. Calculating the perfect size, weight and trajectory was child's play. The Doctor wavered, torn between aiming for the remote control or the Master's head.
"What are we going to do?" Jo asked.
"This," the Doctor answered, rising to his feet and hurling the snowball.
It hit the Master precisely on the side of his head. The snow got right into his ear and into the gap between the scarf and his neck. The Master jumped like a startled cat, dropping the remote control and scrambling for balance. They could see his lips moving as he said something, and then he spotted them. The Doctor waved and dove back behind the hedge.
"Oh, that was mean," Jo said, but she was giggling. The Doctor peeked around the hedge and got a glimpse at the look on the Master’s face and decided Jo was right-this was a lot more fun than the party.
"Quickly Jo, come with me!"
Simultaneously running and crouching, the Doctor and Jo ran along behind the hedge, then dashed to seek cover behind a holly bush. Stealth was something of a moot point, because Jo was still rather too tipsy to stop giggling.
The Master walked towards them, struggling against the mounds of snow. "Doctor! Don't you think this is a rather infantile reaction to my visit?"
The Doctor stepped out from behind the holly bush, cocking his head. "I don't know, is it? It seems to me your whole scheme is a bit on the whimsical side this time." Something cold and misshapen was pushed into his hands - Jo had contributed to the war effort by packing another snowball. The Doctor hid it behind his back, letting the Master get another few steps closer.
"Whimsical?" The Master looked genuinely surprised. "I assure you, my dear Doctor, it's no such thing! In fact, I'm surprised to hear you say so. Is your head so addled by living among humans that you haven't picked up on the clues? I haven't exactly been subtle about my general intent, now have I?" He frowned, as if wondering if perhaps the Doctor had picked up on some crucial flaw in his plan that had thus far escaped him.
"And what would that be? To ruin this year's Christmas? I must say, you've rather lowered your ambitions."
As the Master stopped, linking his hands behind his back, the Doctor noticed that he was carrying some sort of weapon, although he seemed to have left behind the remote control. This could mean that the Master had abandoned the general fight and was now only interested in their own private endgame. In any case, disarming him was the next logical step, because the Master with any kind of weapon in his hands tended to remind the Doctor of a child running with scissors.
The Master laughed, shaking his head. "Lowered? Well, it's perhaps a bit more localized than my usual cosmic scope, I'll admit that. But unless my calculations are in error, the amount of power required by these creatures to perform their global Christmas operation can be no smaller than that of Azal, and far greater than that of the mind parasite.”
"I have no idea what in the devil's name you're talking about," the Doctor said. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, some suspicion or distant memory, but he couldn't grasp it. Something to do with Christmas... "But I doubt it makes much sense." And he threw the second snowball.
The Master was too caught up in his moment of glory to duck. The snowball hit him square on the forehead and white powder exploded all over his face. He stood stunned for a moment, then blinked. With a hand trembling with fury, he wiped the snow out of his beard and eyebrows. "You'll regret this," he hissed.
It was all going perfectly. If the Doctor could lure the Master another few steps closer, he should be able to wrest the weapon from him without anyone getting hurt.
Waggling his eyebrows, the Doctor said, "Try and make me, why don't you?"
They both dived down at the same time, scooping up snow. The advantage was decidedly on the Doctor's side: he had both hands free while the Master still carried his weapon. But the Master was fuelled by rage and his usual dogged determination, and his snowball hit the Doctor a moment before the Doctor could throw his own. The Master's missile was tightly packed and thrown hard enough to bruise his chest.
"Temper, temper," the Doctor mocked and lunged forward, grabbing the Master's scarf with one hand. With the other he smashed his snowball against the back of the Master's neck. The Master gasped and shuddered from the cold, wet attack and blindly stumbled forward against the Doctor. Then he suddenly stilled, frowning oddly. He gasped for air and sneezed, loudly and startlingly, ending in a miserable shiver. Surprised, the Doctor let go of the scarf. They were standing so close that he could feel the warmth of the Master’s body through his silk shirt and the Master's own thin suit.
"That's what you get for not wearing a proper coat in this kind of weather," the Doctor chided. "You've probably caught a cold."
The Master looked up at him with wounded pride. "Time Lords don't catch colds."
"Oh?" Smirking, the Doctor remembered, "And what about that time you fell into the fountain behind the chemistry building?"
"I was trying to prove that my way of increasing the surface tension of water was far superior to that preposterous method developed by Ushas," the Master sniffed. "And it was, if you remember, as I proved three weeks later."
"Three weeks you spent lying in a bed in the hospital wing with a fever. But then you always were a sickly child." For a well-bred Time Lord, the Master's health in his first body had never been good. Most Time Lords considered sickness something shameful and embarrassing, and Theta had usually ended up being the one having to sit at Koschei's bed, to bring him his course work and to listen to him whine endlessly. No doubt the Master resented his helpfulness back then, and no doubt having seen him this way was why the Doctor was still worried whenever the Master showed a sign of weakness.
Jo approached, helpful as ever. "Handkerchief?" she asked, offering one to the Master.
Seeing her startled the Master out of his daze, and he took a sudden step away from the Doctor, raising his gun and pointing it at them. "Not one step further, Doctor, Miss Grant. We've dallied enough for one evening. You see, this visit was only a courtesy - an indulgence on my part. The real culmination of my plan is yet to come, and it will have to occur without you. But don't be too disappointed, Doctor. The inspiration came entirely from you. The truth about the Santa Claus is a well-guarded human secret. Without you, Doctor, I would never have learned of it. But midnight approaches, I must be off! Au revoir, Doctor! Oh, and please, don't try to follow me."
He dashed off to his sledge, and the Doctor, frozen by a sudden, horrified realization, made no move to follow him. Not even when the remaining reindeer returned to the Master and the sledge lifted off elegantly, rising and rising before it vanished above the trees.
"Well, that was odd," Jo commented a bit blearily, blinking after the Master. "Is it just me, Doctor, or did he make rather less sense than usual? I feel dizzy just from trying to understand him! What's happening at midnight?"
The Doctor glanced uneasily at her. He rubbed his neck, feeling very foolish. But after all the trouble the Master had caused today, he knew he owed his friends some explanation. "Well, Jo... I fear it is somewhat my fault." He turned away from her, looking at the holly bush with its red berries and prickly leaves, at the snow at their feet. Everything reminded him of how he had imagined Christmas would be, as a child, when he’d first heard of it.
"You remember when I told you that the Master and I went to school together?"
"Of course I do. I didn't have that much eggnog, Doctor."
"Back home, on our planet, we don't have a lot of holidays. And none that are like Christmas, with all the lights and the songs and the presents. The holidays my people have are days of remembrance - holidays for adults, not children. So when I first found out about your Christmas traditions, I was fascinated. I read every scrap of information on Christmas that I could get my hands on. It was a long, long time ago, and even by your standards, we were quite young. We had only just entered school. I suppose I missed my family, and I wanted to share this new obsession of mine with someone..."
*
"Must you always drag every bit of junk you find into our room?" Koschei complained. "At least keep it to your side, or I'm going to complain to the tutors!"
He was lying in bed with a runny nose and a face spotted with time-measles. Being sick never failed to make Koschei whiny and mean.
"This isn't junk," Theta exclaimed, clutching his prickly Delvan branches to his chest. They were pale green at best, and not really anything like holly or fir, but they were the closest thing to proper boughs of greenery he had been able to scavenge from the Chapter gardens. "It's - "
"I know it's not a science project!" Koschei interrupted. "We haven't even started with protozoa in biology!"
Shrugging, Theta put the branches onto the windowsill and tried to drape some over the portrait of Omega on the wall that divided his part of the room from Koschei's. "No, they're decorations. For Christmas. I've got candles, too, and tinsel."
"'Christmas'?"
Theta turned around, so eager to tell someone about this that his cheeks glowed with excitement. "Oh, it's a human holiday! One particular religion's way of celebrating the longest night of the year. They bake, and sing carols, and everyone gets together, and they have this tree, you see, the Christmas tree, with lots of lights and ornaments. They gather around it, and then they all wait for a man they call Father Christmas- a big, jolly man who brings them all presents. Really it's the people who give each other presents, and you're not supposed to know what you're going to get, so it's a surprise, and everyone gets something and it's marvelous!"
Koschei dropped back onto his mountain of pillows and sneered. "That sounds incredibly boring. Really, when are you going to grow out of this stupid fascination with primitive cultures?"
"It's not boring!"
"Yes, it is. It's even duller than being stuck in this bed for days on end, and I didn’t think that was possible."
Fuming, Theta tossed the remaining branches onto his desk and stalked to his bed. He crawled into a corner of it, turned his face to the wall, and felt the sting of angry tears in his eyes. Christmas wasn't boring or lame or primitive. Well. Maybe it was a little bit... tame. Nothing really exciting happened on Christmas, except that you got presents, but of course Koschei didn't understand.. . Even from across the room, Theta could feel Koschei radiating smugness, just because he knew he’d won the argument and made him miserable. Slowly the sting of tears turned into angry defiance on Theta's part. He was not going to let Koschei mock him, or Christmas.
"Well, alright," Theta said sulkily. "I wasn't going to tell you, because it's a secret, but I suppose I'll have to tell you the whole truth." He started to perk up, as he always did when he let his imagination run free. "Because - you were right, it is a primitive custom. Primitive, and bloody, and gruesome!"
Koschei turned his head. Those magic words had caught his interest. "Really?" he asked, sounding grudgingly intrigued.
Theta leaned forward, over his nightstand, and switched off the lights to create the proper atmosphere. "Yes," he said, dropping his voice in an ominous whisper. "The cheer, and the songs, and the light, that's all just a front. It's to distract the little children, so they won't suspect anything. Because in truth, something horrible happens on Christmas. Far, far in the icy North on Earth, there lives a mighty creature called Santa Claws. He has a big beard to hide his terrible teeth and a cloak red from the blood of humans, and he has huuuuge claws. He sleeps all year long, but he knows what everyone on Earth does and thinks, knows their secret fears and desires. He knows them all! He gets hungry waiting up there in the dark and the cold, and on one of the longest nights of the year, he stirs. Santa Claws emerges, riding his sleigh, which flies through the air drawn by his fearsome rain-deer. They're called that because they bring rain and thunder, and they ¬- can shoot lightning! And they have horns. Many horns. And then Santa Claws, and his rain-deer, and his army of evil little elves all swarm out. The humans try to protect themselves, and to appease him with pork pies and sherry and other sacrifices, but the only thing that can really satisfy Santa Claws is blood! On this one night, on Christmas, he comes to every single house in the world simultaneously. He comes down every chimney, into every living room and then..." Theta stopped. He could hear Koschei breathe in sharply.
"And then?" Koschei asked in a small voice, no longer smug.
"And then he takes the children, if they haven't been good. That's why they can't know the truth about Christmas, so they'll stay in their beds until Santa Claws comes for them. Santa gets angry when they run. The humans even teach their children a song about that. ‘You’d better not shout, you’d better not cry. You’d better not pout, I’m telling you why-Santa Claws,’” Theta paused for dramatic effect, “‘is coming to town.’"
"Oh," Koschei said. Theta could hear him swallow. "The psychic power levels of that creature must be incredible."
Theta grinned to himself in the dark, trying not to giggle. "Yes. Yes, they are."
*
Jo looked sadly at the Doctor as he finished his story of Christmas Past. The two of them had walked slowly back to HQ and were nearly at the front entry. The battle had died down there, and only a few of the Brigadier's men were still cleaning up the Master’s ruined elves and reindeer. "So you see," the Doctor concluded, "that's why all this is my fault. Clearly the Master thinks he's going to conjure Santa Claws tonight, and that’s why he went to all this effort. I suppose I'll have to go after him and put a stop to all this."
"But Doctor," Jo said, "it's all so wrong."
"It may sound a bit improbable, but think about all the strange things we've encountered, Jo. Is Santa Claws really more unlikely than his conjuring a real daemon in a village called Devil's End? The Master has no reason not to believe in the story I told him."
"But that's not what I meant." Jo had turned to face him and was hugging herself, shivering a little. She was no longer cheerful, and had reached the maudlin stage of drunkeness. The Doctor gently turned her back towards headquarters.
"I think you should go inside and warm up a bit, Jo. We don't want you catching a cold, do we? Have a cup of hot chocolate, and I'll go sort out this business with the Master."
Jo complied, shuffling towards the house. The Doctor was right, a cup of hot chocolate sounded wonderful. But still, she wasn't just going to let this go. It was too important-this was about Christmas. " You got it all wrong. I mean, you're not from Earth, so maybe that's why you don't understand, but really, I'd have thought that you of all people would understand. Christmas isn't about monsters and all those horrible things. Christmas isn't supposed to be exciting! What I'm saying is, it doesn't matter if your Christmas tree isn't really a fir, or if your presents aren't as good as everyone else's, or if there's sherry in your eggnog instead of - of whatever is supposed to go into eggnog. Christmas is about peace, and understanding, and - and being together with the people you love! I mean, look at the Master. He clearly cares about Christmas. Yes, he may be a bit confused about it because of a mean trick you played on him when you were children, but he's not doing so badly, is he? Look at all the effort he's gone through for Christmas. I bet it took him weeks to build all this stuff! If it's coming from the heart, it doesn't really matter if your present is a murderous Christmas pudding. He even made it snow! I mean, if that isn't the spirit of Christmas, Doctor, I don't know what is, do you?"
The Doctor didn't answer. Jo turned around in a circle, but the snowy lawn was empty, and the night was silent around her. No one had been listening to her except a few broken animatronic elves and the head of a robotic reindeer with smoking antlers and a suspiciously red nose. Crumpled gift-wrapping littered the snow.
"Oh, I see," Jo said to no one in particular and crossed her arms as well as her thick coat allowed her to. This was just typical. There she was, telling him about the meaning of Christmas, and no one listened to her. Nobody respected her and her opinions about the holiday spirit. She nodded at the reindeer solemnly. "Nobody except you, Rudolph."
Chapter: II of III
Author: bagheera_san and x_los
Rating: PG
Pairing: Three/Delgado!Master, Brig, Jo, Benton, Yates
Summary: The Master crashes UNIT's Christmas party with a deadly slay-ride.* Three knows Venusian Snowball Akido. The Brigadier is not drunk, dammit. Jo tries to teach everyone the True Meaning of Christmas and finds her audience somewhat unappreciative.
Beta: aralias, who is splendid, absolutely unlike any sort of crustacean and is neither horrible nor married.
A/N: We started this last Christmas and I flaked. Er. It's um, done now? MERRY CHRISTMAS, DAMMIT.
Previous: Chapter I
*Yes, I meant that pun. No, I'm not sorry.
think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed.
Next year I could be oh so good,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.'>
Christmas Crackers
Part II
Slowly, in rolling, lumbering motions, the snowmen had begun advancing on UNIT headquarters.
Suddenly the Master's decision to attack on Christmas made a great deal more sense. The snow was dampening every noise, and had probably cut them off from all reinforcements. So far it seemed as if the only unusual activity was the snowmen’s advance, but instead of going back inside, the Doctor rounded the complex to check if there was anything else afoot.
The windows of the common room had misted up. Only a bright golden glow from inside showed through them. The tortured strains of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen appeared to have given way to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The Doctor rapped his knuckles harshly against the glass, wondering if he should just break it. But someone approached, and a moment later, after some struggling, Jo opened the window.
"Doctor!" she exclaimed, still cheerfully drunk. "What are you doing out there? It's freezing - hey!" She leaned outside, and her face lit up with a different kind of joy. "I don't believe it! Goodness, I haven't seen that much snow since I last went skiing! It's a Christmas miracle!"
"Yes, well, there's no time for that now, Jo," the Doctor told her impatiently. "I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem. There are snowmen - "
"Snowmen! Oh, what a brilliant idea! I'll go fetch my coat," Jo beamed and hurried off in a more or less straight path, calling over her shoulder, "Don't start without me!"
In fact, the Doctor thought sourly as he climbed in the window, not only did the Master's plan make sense (for once), it was actually ingenious. This Christmas party had rendered UNIT completely defenseless.
He located the Brigadier-not difficult, as the man had yet to abandon his post by the buffet-and maneuvered his way through the merry crowd. No one much paid attention to the fact that he was tracking sludge across the floor, or that his cloak was dusted with snow, although some people started to complain about the draft.
"I fear the party's over," the Doctor said to the Brigadier when he reached him.
The Brigadier glanced vaguely in the Doctor's direction, raised his glass of eggnog in a shaky toast and downed it. He smacked his lips. "Yes, very good. Carry on."
Rolling his eyes, the Doctor snatched the Brigadier's glass away and put it down on the table, out of reach. "Pull yourself together, man. There are animated snowmen advancing on us, and I very much doubt that their intentions are friendly."
The Brigadier blinked. "Snowmen, you say?" Sobering up a bit, he scowled at his scientific advisor. "Very funny, Doctor. Is this your idea of a joke? I'll have you know I'm not - not quite that drunk yet."
"Not my idea of a joke, no," the Doctor replied, "but it seems to be the Master's. Now I'm not usually one to say so, but this seems like a situation where we could use your men and arms."
Across the room, the Doctor caught a glimpse of Jo, now packed tightly into her enormous coat, trying to climb out the window. Granted the only door out of the room was now blocked by a spotty private standing pointedly under the mistletoe sprig that some wit (very likely Sergeant Benton) had hung in the doorjamb, and the window was low to the ground, but it was still an unorthodox mode of egress. "No, Jo, what on earth are you thinking,don't go outside!" he called.
In the same moment there came a loud crash from above them. The pictures on the walls, the doors, and even the Christmas tree shook as if there were an earthquake. A gasp went through the room, and Jo tumbled outside with a squeak.
The Brigadier raised his eyebrows, visibly sobering up. "What was that about a situation, Doctor?"
"I believe we're under siege."
"On Christmas? Very well, if you say so." The Brigadier shook his head, then began barking orders. "Men, prepare to take action! This is not a drill. Benton, take someone and secure the perimeter! Captain Yates, stop trying to peek at the presents and get a look at whatever that was on the roof!"
Hectic activity suddenly filled the room, and over the din, the Doctor and the Brigadier only just heard Jo's excited, "Oh, look! A sleigh! And real reindeer!"
*
"I'll be - !" the Brigadier said. "What in blazes is that man doing?"
He, Jo and the Doctor stood outside the window staring up at the sky. The thick cover of snow clouds had broken, and a patch of starry sky and a bright half-moon were visible, as was something that was most definitely neither a plane nor a helicopter.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jo said. "He's disguised himself as Santa Claus."
"Yes." The Doctor squinted up at the sleigh, which, after performing a graceful curve in the air, was coming back towards UNIT HQ. From this distance the Master was only just discernable as a small figure wearing a long scarf that flowed in the breeze.To the Doctor, it didn't look as though the Master was disguised as Santa Claus, since that would at least have included a false beard, and he knew how much the Master loved that sort of thing. If he intended to impersonate that jolly old elf, the Master could never have ignored the opportunity to dress for the occasion. He obviously wasn't trying to be stealthy. Right before his sledge vanished behind the building, the Master raised one hand and waved.
"Somehow he's managed to engineer a flying sledge. It takes a dapper hand to tune the inertial dampeners so finely. I wonder - "
The Doctor was interrupted by the Brigadier's radio, which crackled into life. "Sergeant Benton reporting, Sir."
"Speak," the Brigadier said.
Benton sounded nervous. His voice was hushed. "I'm sure you've seen the, um, sleigh by now, sir…"
"Yes, we have."
"Well, I'm at the southern perimeter now, and he seems to have dropped presents, Sir."
"Presents." The Brigadier's tone was deadpan, but he glared at the Doctor as if this were all his fault.
"Gift-wrapped presents, sir. With proper bows "
"Get to the point, Benton!"
"Sir, the presents have started moving-and something’s coming out! It's, um. They're - I don't know how to say this, sir."
"Just get on with it!"
"Santa's little helpers, Brigadier. They've come out of the gift boxes. And I think these elves are hostile."
"Hostile? And how have you managed to deduce that, Benton?"
The question had been laced with sarcasm, but Benton didn't pick up on it. "Well, they're shooting these sort of laser beams from their eyes, sir."
"Ah." The Brigadier seemed to have reached a state of Zen in the face of all this. "Get back here, Benton." He continued giving orders, but Jo interrupted, still looking delighted.
"Are there really elves, Doctor? Do you think the Master has hypnotized them?"
The Doctor scoffed. "Another creation of the Master's, no doubt. Just like those snowmen and all the snow." He took the radio from the Brigadier. "Benton? This is the Doctor. Try something for me, will you?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Throw a snowball at those elves. I want to see what they're made of."
A rustling and crunching sort of noise came over the radio, accompanied by a very critical look from the Brigadier. Just then, Captain Yates came running around the corner of the building.
"Sir," he gasped.
"Report."
"The roof appears to have been damaged by St. Nick, sir."
"Don't be silly, Captain Yates, we're dealing with the Master here."
"Oh, him." Yates glanced at the Doctor with what looked almost like a wink. The Doctor pretended not to have noticed it. "Crashing the party, is he?"
"Yates," the Brigadier said sharply.
"My apologies, sir. It's the eggnog." Jo giggled, and Yates valiantly fought a snort before finishing his report. "I think he rammed one of the chimneys with his flying sledge. He seems to have given up on landing on the roof now."
"Very well. Get some men and bring that sledge down. Permission to fire at will."
"At Rudolph, sir?" Yates inquired.
"At any damn person or thing that's cocky enough to think that they can attack us in our own HQ at Christmas!" Lethbridge-Stewart snapped, his Zen forgotten.
"Brigadier!" Jo seemed shocked. "Those poor reindeer haven't done anything! And don't you think it's all rather nice of the Master, in a funny sort of way? He's brought us snow on Christmas. It hasn't snowed on Christmas Eve in ages, not since I was a little girl."
But neither the Brigadier nor Yates were listening to her, because another report had just come in that the snowmen had started shooting at the science wing. The Captain saluted and ran off to defend the Doctor's equipment before Jo could get another word in.
A moment later, a small, tinny whoop of victory could be heard from the Brigadier's radio.
"Success," Benton reported. "The elf exploded as soon as I hit it with a snowball. It appears to be some kind of robot."
The Doctor nodded, stroking his chin. "I thought so. The Master's done shoddy work on those elves. Cheap animatronics are always vulnerable to water. I bet those reindeer are no better."
The Brigadier took the radio back from the Doctor. "Very good, Benton. Get more men and proceed with the snowballs."
*
The battle had split and was now being fought on three fronts. Near the forest, Benton and a couple of other soldiers were fighting off the elves. A second group of UNIT soldiers under Captain Yates was attacking the snowmen, who proved to be more of an inconvenience than an actual threat, because it turned out that they moved at a snail's pace - they had no legs, after all - and their ammunition consisted exclusively of unlit coals. "It's quite mess in the laboratory," Yates reported over the radio, "but we should have it under control soon."
The largest contingent of UNIT personnel by far had gathered at the north side of the complex. The Master had finally managed to land his sledge between the brick building and the duck pond, and a fierce battle was in progress there. Once let loose the reindeer attacked with their antlers and displayed the unexpected ability to shoot lightning bolts when they stomped on the snowy ground.
Unfortunately for the Master, the reindeer proved as vulnerable to well-placed snowballs as the elves.
The soldiers had been joined by everyone who could throw a snowball - or thought they could despite the amount of eggnog and sherry they had consumed. This included the janitor, the tea lady and quite a few of the UNIT staff’s spouses, who on the whole fought valiantly despite their festive evening gowns and excessive jewelry. The Brigadier had quickly given up on sharp shooting, and was now trying to organize the snowball fight. While this hadn't precisely been the Doctor's intention when he’d suggested using snow to Benton, he was quite happy with the outcome. If he had his way, all battles would be fought with snow rather than bullets.
Sneaking from hedge to hedge to get closer to the sleigh, the Doctor and Jo could hear the Brigadier's voice calling orders: "Scoop now! Pack now! And… throw! Mr Bell, for heaven's sake, take cover! That reindeer almost got you!"
Crouching behind another hedge, the Doctor craned his neck to get a better look at the sleigh. "Where is he? I can't see the old scoundrel anywhere, he must be up to something."
"There are still presents on the sledge," Jo observed. "Do you think… ?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid, if anything, lethal elves and rampaging reindeer are the Master's idea of an appropriate Christmas present, Jo."
"I suppose you're right. Still," she grinned up at him from under the hood of her coat, her cheeks flushed and her breath puffing in the cold air, "you can't deny that this is probably the most fun a UNIT Christmas party has ever been. Oh, look! There he is!"
The Doctor turned his head. Jo was right-there was the Master, emerging from behind the tower of presents on the sledge. He held what looked like some sort of remote control. It looked as if the Master had made a token effort to dress suitably for the weather, but had given up half-way through: he wore a long red scarf wound several times around his neck and white knitted gloves, but underneath that he wore his usual grey Nehru suit and shoes that would probably be ruined by the snow.
Without taking his eyes off the Master, the Doctor scooped his hands over the ground, gathering snow. Calculating the perfect size, weight and trajectory was child's play. The Doctor wavered, torn between aiming for the remote control or the Master's head.
"What are we going to do?" Jo asked.
"This," the Doctor answered, rising to his feet and hurling the snowball.
It hit the Master precisely on the side of his head. The snow got right into his ear and into the gap between the scarf and his neck. The Master jumped like a startled cat, dropping the remote control and scrambling for balance. They could see his lips moving as he said something, and then he spotted them. The Doctor waved and dove back behind the hedge.
"Oh, that was mean," Jo said, but she was giggling. The Doctor peeked around the hedge and got a glimpse at the look on the Master’s face and decided Jo was right-this was a lot more fun than the party.
"Quickly Jo, come with me!"
Simultaneously running and crouching, the Doctor and Jo ran along behind the hedge, then dashed to seek cover behind a holly bush. Stealth was something of a moot point, because Jo was still rather too tipsy to stop giggling.
The Master walked towards them, struggling against the mounds of snow. "Doctor! Don't you think this is a rather infantile reaction to my visit?"
The Doctor stepped out from behind the holly bush, cocking his head. "I don't know, is it? It seems to me your whole scheme is a bit on the whimsical side this time." Something cold and misshapen was pushed into his hands - Jo had contributed to the war effort by packing another snowball. The Doctor hid it behind his back, letting the Master get another few steps closer.
"Whimsical?" The Master looked genuinely surprised. "I assure you, my dear Doctor, it's no such thing! In fact, I'm surprised to hear you say so. Is your head so addled by living among humans that you haven't picked up on the clues? I haven't exactly been subtle about my general intent, now have I?" He frowned, as if wondering if perhaps the Doctor had picked up on some crucial flaw in his plan that had thus far escaped him.
"And what would that be? To ruin this year's Christmas? I must say, you've rather lowered your ambitions."
As the Master stopped, linking his hands behind his back, the Doctor noticed that he was carrying some sort of weapon, although he seemed to have left behind the remote control. This could mean that the Master had abandoned the general fight and was now only interested in their own private endgame. In any case, disarming him was the next logical step, because the Master with any kind of weapon in his hands tended to remind the Doctor of a child running with scissors.
The Master laughed, shaking his head. "Lowered? Well, it's perhaps a bit more localized than my usual cosmic scope, I'll admit that. But unless my calculations are in error, the amount of power required by these creatures to perform their global Christmas operation can be no smaller than that of Azal, and far greater than that of the mind parasite.”
"I have no idea what in the devil's name you're talking about," the Doctor said. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, some suspicion or distant memory, but he couldn't grasp it. Something to do with Christmas... "But I doubt it makes much sense." And he threw the second snowball.
The Master was too caught up in his moment of glory to duck. The snowball hit him square on the forehead and white powder exploded all over his face. He stood stunned for a moment, then blinked. With a hand trembling with fury, he wiped the snow out of his beard and eyebrows. "You'll regret this," he hissed.
It was all going perfectly. If the Doctor could lure the Master another few steps closer, he should be able to wrest the weapon from him without anyone getting hurt.
Waggling his eyebrows, the Doctor said, "Try and make me, why don't you?"
They both dived down at the same time, scooping up snow. The advantage was decidedly on the Doctor's side: he had both hands free while the Master still carried his weapon. But the Master was fuelled by rage and his usual dogged determination, and his snowball hit the Doctor a moment before the Doctor could throw his own. The Master's missile was tightly packed and thrown hard enough to bruise his chest.
"Temper, temper," the Doctor mocked and lunged forward, grabbing the Master's scarf with one hand. With the other he smashed his snowball against the back of the Master's neck. The Master gasped and shuddered from the cold, wet attack and blindly stumbled forward against the Doctor. Then he suddenly stilled, frowning oddly. He gasped for air and sneezed, loudly and startlingly, ending in a miserable shiver. Surprised, the Doctor let go of the scarf. They were standing so close that he could feel the warmth of the Master’s body through his silk shirt and the Master's own thin suit.
"That's what you get for not wearing a proper coat in this kind of weather," the Doctor chided. "You've probably caught a cold."
The Master looked up at him with wounded pride. "Time Lords don't catch colds."
"Oh?" Smirking, the Doctor remembered, "And what about that time you fell into the fountain behind the chemistry building?"
"I was trying to prove that my way of increasing the surface tension of water was far superior to that preposterous method developed by Ushas," the Master sniffed. "And it was, if you remember, as I proved three weeks later."
"Three weeks you spent lying in a bed in the hospital wing with a fever. But then you always were a sickly child." For a well-bred Time Lord, the Master's health in his first body had never been good. Most Time Lords considered sickness something shameful and embarrassing, and Theta had usually ended up being the one having to sit at Koschei's bed, to bring him his course work and to listen to him whine endlessly. No doubt the Master resented his helpfulness back then, and no doubt having seen him this way was why the Doctor was still worried whenever the Master showed a sign of weakness.
Jo approached, helpful as ever. "Handkerchief?" she asked, offering one to the Master.
Seeing her startled the Master out of his daze, and he took a sudden step away from the Doctor, raising his gun and pointing it at them. "Not one step further, Doctor, Miss Grant. We've dallied enough for one evening. You see, this visit was only a courtesy - an indulgence on my part. The real culmination of my plan is yet to come, and it will have to occur without you. But don't be too disappointed, Doctor. The inspiration came entirely from you. The truth about the Santa Claus is a well-guarded human secret. Without you, Doctor, I would never have learned of it. But midnight approaches, I must be off! Au revoir, Doctor! Oh, and please, don't try to follow me."
He dashed off to his sledge, and the Doctor, frozen by a sudden, horrified realization, made no move to follow him. Not even when the remaining reindeer returned to the Master and the sledge lifted off elegantly, rising and rising before it vanished above the trees.
"Well, that was odd," Jo commented a bit blearily, blinking after the Master. "Is it just me, Doctor, or did he make rather less sense than usual? I feel dizzy just from trying to understand him! What's happening at midnight?"
The Doctor glanced uneasily at her. He rubbed his neck, feeling very foolish. But after all the trouble the Master had caused today, he knew he owed his friends some explanation. "Well, Jo... I fear it is somewhat my fault." He turned away from her, looking at the holly bush with its red berries and prickly leaves, at the snow at their feet. Everything reminded him of how he had imagined Christmas would be, as a child, when he’d first heard of it.
"You remember when I told you that the Master and I went to school together?"
"Of course I do. I didn't have that much eggnog, Doctor."
"Back home, on our planet, we don't have a lot of holidays. And none that are like Christmas, with all the lights and the songs and the presents. The holidays my people have are days of remembrance - holidays for adults, not children. So when I first found out about your Christmas traditions, I was fascinated. I read every scrap of information on Christmas that I could get my hands on. It was a long, long time ago, and even by your standards, we were quite young. We had only just entered school. I suppose I missed my family, and I wanted to share this new obsession of mine with someone..."
*
"Must you always drag every bit of junk you find into our room?" Koschei complained. "At least keep it to your side, or I'm going to complain to the tutors!"
He was lying in bed with a runny nose and a face spotted with time-measles. Being sick never failed to make Koschei whiny and mean.
"This isn't junk," Theta exclaimed, clutching his prickly Delvan branches to his chest. They were pale green at best, and not really anything like holly or fir, but they were the closest thing to proper boughs of greenery he had been able to scavenge from the Chapter gardens. "It's - "
"I know it's not a science project!" Koschei interrupted. "We haven't even started with protozoa in biology!"
Shrugging, Theta put the branches onto the windowsill and tried to drape some over the portrait of Omega on the wall that divided his part of the room from Koschei's. "No, they're decorations. For Christmas. I've got candles, too, and tinsel."
"'Christmas'?"
Theta turned around, so eager to tell someone about this that his cheeks glowed with excitement. "Oh, it's a human holiday! One particular religion's way of celebrating the longest night of the year. They bake, and sing carols, and everyone gets together, and they have this tree, you see, the Christmas tree, with lots of lights and ornaments. They gather around it, and then they all wait for a man they call Father Christmas- a big, jolly man who brings them all presents. Really it's the people who give each other presents, and you're not supposed to know what you're going to get, so it's a surprise, and everyone gets something and it's marvelous!"
Koschei dropped back onto his mountain of pillows and sneered. "That sounds incredibly boring. Really, when are you going to grow out of this stupid fascination with primitive cultures?"
"It's not boring!"
"Yes, it is. It's even duller than being stuck in this bed for days on end, and I didn’t think that was possible."
Fuming, Theta tossed the remaining branches onto his desk and stalked to his bed. He crawled into a corner of it, turned his face to the wall, and felt the sting of angry tears in his eyes. Christmas wasn't boring or lame or primitive. Well. Maybe it was a little bit... tame. Nothing really exciting happened on Christmas, except that you got presents, but of course Koschei didn't understand.. . Even from across the room, Theta could feel Koschei radiating smugness, just because he knew he’d won the argument and made him miserable. Slowly the sting of tears turned into angry defiance on Theta's part. He was not going to let Koschei mock him, or Christmas.
"Well, alright," Theta said sulkily. "I wasn't going to tell you, because it's a secret, but I suppose I'll have to tell you the whole truth." He started to perk up, as he always did when he let his imagination run free. "Because - you were right, it is a primitive custom. Primitive, and bloody, and gruesome!"
Koschei turned his head. Those magic words had caught his interest. "Really?" he asked, sounding grudgingly intrigued.
Theta leaned forward, over his nightstand, and switched off the lights to create the proper atmosphere. "Yes," he said, dropping his voice in an ominous whisper. "The cheer, and the songs, and the light, that's all just a front. It's to distract the little children, so they won't suspect anything. Because in truth, something horrible happens on Christmas. Far, far in the icy North on Earth, there lives a mighty creature called Santa Claws. He has a big beard to hide his terrible teeth and a cloak red from the blood of humans, and he has huuuuge claws. He sleeps all year long, but he knows what everyone on Earth does and thinks, knows their secret fears and desires. He knows them all! He gets hungry waiting up there in the dark and the cold, and on one of the longest nights of the year, he stirs. Santa Claws emerges, riding his sleigh, which flies through the air drawn by his fearsome rain-deer. They're called that because they bring rain and thunder, and they ¬- can shoot lightning! And they have horns. Many horns. And then Santa Claws, and his rain-deer, and his army of evil little elves all swarm out. The humans try to protect themselves, and to appease him with pork pies and sherry and other sacrifices, but the only thing that can really satisfy Santa Claws is blood! On this one night, on Christmas, he comes to every single house in the world simultaneously. He comes down every chimney, into every living room and then..." Theta stopped. He could hear Koschei breathe in sharply.
"And then?" Koschei asked in a small voice, no longer smug.
"And then he takes the children, if they haven't been good. That's why they can't know the truth about Christmas, so they'll stay in their beds until Santa Claws comes for them. Santa gets angry when they run. The humans even teach their children a song about that. ‘You’d better not shout, you’d better not cry. You’d better not pout, I’m telling you why-Santa Claws,’” Theta paused for dramatic effect, “‘is coming to town.’"
"Oh," Koschei said. Theta could hear him swallow. "The psychic power levels of that creature must be incredible."
Theta grinned to himself in the dark, trying not to giggle. "Yes. Yes, they are."
*
Jo looked sadly at the Doctor as he finished his story of Christmas Past. The two of them had walked slowly back to HQ and were nearly at the front entry. The battle had died down there, and only a few of the Brigadier's men were still cleaning up the Master’s ruined elves and reindeer. "So you see," the Doctor concluded, "that's why all this is my fault. Clearly the Master thinks he's going to conjure Santa Claws tonight, and that’s why he went to all this effort. I suppose I'll have to go after him and put a stop to all this."
"But Doctor," Jo said, "it's all so wrong."
"It may sound a bit improbable, but think about all the strange things we've encountered, Jo. Is Santa Claws really more unlikely than his conjuring a real daemon in a village called Devil's End? The Master has no reason not to believe in the story I told him."
"But that's not what I meant." Jo had turned to face him and was hugging herself, shivering a little. She was no longer cheerful, and had reached the maudlin stage of drunkeness. The Doctor gently turned her back towards headquarters.
"I think you should go inside and warm up a bit, Jo. We don't want you catching a cold, do we? Have a cup of hot chocolate, and I'll go sort out this business with the Master."
Jo complied, shuffling towards the house. The Doctor was right, a cup of hot chocolate sounded wonderful. But still, she wasn't just going to let this go. It was too important-this was about Christmas. " You got it all wrong. I mean, you're not from Earth, so maybe that's why you don't understand, but really, I'd have thought that you of all people would understand. Christmas isn't about monsters and all those horrible things. Christmas isn't supposed to be exciting! What I'm saying is, it doesn't matter if your Christmas tree isn't really a fir, or if your presents aren't as good as everyone else's, or if there's sherry in your eggnog instead of - of whatever is supposed to go into eggnog. Christmas is about peace, and understanding, and - and being together with the people you love! I mean, look at the Master. He clearly cares about Christmas. Yes, he may be a bit confused about it because of a mean trick you played on him when you were children, but he's not doing so badly, is he? Look at all the effort he's gone through for Christmas. I bet it took him weeks to build all this stuff! If it's coming from the heart, it doesn't really matter if your present is a murderous Christmas pudding. He even made it snow! I mean, if that isn't the spirit of Christmas, Doctor, I don't know what is, do you?"
The Doctor didn't answer. Jo turned around in a circle, but the snowy lawn was empty, and the night was silent around her. No one had been listening to her except a few broken animatronic elves and the head of a robotic reindeer with smoking antlers and a suspiciously red nose. Crumpled gift-wrapping littered the snow.
"Oh, I see," Jo said to no one in particular and crossed her arms as well as her thick coat allowed her to. This was just typical. There she was, telling him about the meaning of Christmas, and no one listened to her. Nobody respected her and her opinions about the holiday spirit. She nodded at the reindeer solemnly. "Nobody except you, Rudolph."