rp; for handysparehand

[marthajonesmd]

It's Christmas morning, and Martha rises early, as is her habit, wrapping herself in her robe and making a cup of tea. She curls up in an armchair in her living room and watches fat white flakes of snow drift down outside her window, and she can't help but smile. They don't get white Christmases often - not real snow, anyway. She wonders if she

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[handysparehand]

He likes sleeping. Sleeping is good. Beds are soft and warm and good. Especially on days when he knows it's cold outside without even really being awake. He can feel it from those first few minutes where he starts to pull out of his dreams. Stretching limbs and tangled in blankets. He's warm in his bed and he knows it's cold outside.

With one final stretch he forces himself awake. Rolling out of bed, looking out the window. There's snow. Real, honest snow. Not some side effect or cheap trick. It's real. And it's Christmas. His first one. He nearly forgot.

He gets down on his hands and knees, feeling around under his bed until he pulls out the badly wrapped gifts he had hidden down there.

Standing up, gifts in hand, he gallops down the stairs, all bed head and askew, surprised to see the tree lit and Martha awake and waiting.

"Happy Christmas," he smiles as he plops down on the couch.

[marthajonesmd]

She grins back at him, moving from the armchair to sit next to him on the sofa. "Happy Christmas," she replies, feeling her own excitement multiply exponentially when she sees the look on his faice. Is this what it's like to have kids? she wonders absurdly for a moment. Not that she treats him like her child - not at all, in fact. She just wanted to make this Christmas special for him, that's all. After all, you only get one first Christmas - and most people usually can't even remember it.

"D'you want a cup of tea or a slice of fruitcake or something?" she teases him, knowing full well that he probably wants to dive straight into the presents. She hopes he likes his; he's a bit hard to shop for, she's found out, being the result of a Time Lord-human metacrisis and having the memories of someone who's been everywhere and done everything. And it's difficult to find clothes that fit him properly, to boot.

[handysparehand]

He looks at all the nice little presents waiting under the tree, a little embarrassed by his own poorly wrapped one. Despite this, he grins at Martha and bounces a little in his seat, not sure how this entire first Christmas thing is meant to work.

"What? No, that can wait, can't it?"

He shuffles the gift in his hand around a bit as he tries to guess what's inside the packages under the tree. Studying the shape and size and and the way the paper wraps around things.

[marthajonesmd]

At this rate, she's surprised that he hasn't started shaking the presents under the tree to try and figure out what's inside them - though she suspects that, given enough time, he probably would. Not all the gifts under the tree are from her; Tish had bought him something, still a little perplexed by her younger sister's...well, whatever the proper term was, Martha still hadn't figured it out herself. And Jack had sent presents for both of them (she had mailed him a red UNIT beret), and, well, it was a modest pile beneath her little tree. (And, all right, there's a couple of presents from "Father Christmas" under there; Martha couldn't help herself. Maybe she's spent a little too much, but she just wants things to be special.)

She stands and retrieves both their stockings, handing one to him and unwrapping a candy cane from her own, sucking contemplatively on the tip for a moment. "Well? What are you waiting for?" Martha grins at him again.