Jess' hand flew across the bleached paper at such a rate that she was probably going to feel it in the morning. But there was something profoundly enthralling about pouring her emotions out into a notebook. No one would ever see it, of course, but it was reassuring to know that not everything she ever thought was trapped inside her lonely mind.
Violins and pianos and all sorts of classical instruments played softly in her ears, their harmony giving her inspiration to scrape more slightly incoherent words with a broken pen she'd found in a drawer. Her bare feet slid against each other in hopes for warmth, as the air was quite chilly. Her left hand was keeping warm between her knees, and her right was clammy against the thin plastic.
There must have been a knock on her door, but she wouldn't have heard it. She could feel the Doctor's presence, however, and quickly slid her journal under her pillow.
"Uh, hi," she stammered, sliding her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose.
"What's that?" he asked, peering behind her back for the leather-bound secret keeper.
"Uh – it's, um, nothing." She smiled sheepishly, careful not to reveal the book. Her hands slid it further away from his curious eye, deeper into the abyss of pillows surrounding her head.
"Sure didn't look like nothing," he muttered, walking towards her.
"Doctor, I'm sure you didn't come in here just to be a creep and read my stuff. So, what's up?" She swung her legs around to the edge of her bed and looked up at him, waiting for his answer.
"You're right. I'm not here to read your stuff, I'm here to ask you if you'd like to see something." He gave a shy smile, one that was seldom to Jess's eyes.
"You know, that's just the kind of thing kidnappers say right after they ask if you'd like candy."
"Well, you're already in my home, so there's no point in taking you somewhere else," he playfully retorted, holding out his hand.
"Hm. I guess so," she muttered, grasping his and following him out the door.
They arrived at the archway before the main control room not too long after, but the walls and the floor seemed to be reflecting a soft light from the contiguous room. Jess then felt a pair of warm, gentle hands cover her eyes, and her lips parted to reveal a curious smile. "Doctor," she whispered, bringing her hands up to his, "what are you doing?"
"You'll see," he replied, beginning to walk towards the faint light.
She followed – difficultly – and the Doctor placed her in what seemed to be the center of the room. She could smell something familiar, and the temperature seemed a bit cooler ....
"Okay, are you ready?" he asked in an undertone. She nodded, his hands still covering her eyes, his lips inches away from her ear.
He let his arms fall limp, but she didn't open her eyes immediately. When she did, however, she was definitely taken aback.
"Oh – Doctor," she muttered, her eyes absorbing the beauty. There were tiny Christmas lights hung around the console and the railings, tinsel winding and swaying in a synchronized manner, ornaments of snowmen and presents and other festive things hanging from a small Christmas tree over by the door. There was even a wreath hung on a window that wasn't there before, but instead showing her backyard, it revealed a beautiful blanket of snow.
"So," he said, grinning, "you like it?"
"Are you kidding? It's beautiful." Her eyes wandered upwards, where she saw a gravity globe shedding white flakes. One landed on her nose, and she realized it was snow. Real, cold, snow that disappeared before it touched the ground.
"How – how did you do this?"
"With a lot of determination, and a bit of help from a grumpy warlock," he joked, walking back towards her. He leaned over and pressed a few buttons, dimming the illumination from the gravity globe. As he switched a lever, a familiar tune echoed throughout the room, one that Jess had played on the piano some time ago, long before she discovered the Doctor.
"Première Gymnopédie," she whispered, smiling. "I haven't heard this one in years."
"You know this?" the Doctor questioned, returning the gesture.
"Yeah. I used to play the piano; I performed this at a recital when I was six."
He held out his hand, not in a way meaning to go somewhere, but as if he was asking to dance.
"You're kidding, right?"
"What?" he said, pretending to be offended. "I never got a chance to dance last night."
"But – I don't dance." Her voice dropped to decibels below a whisper.
"You do now," he said, grabbing her hands and delicately pulling her to him. She laughed, her head rolling back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music for a few moments, getting used to the feeling of each other. The Doctor awkwardly spun her, and the laughter began again. Jess raised her toes a bit and rested her head on his shoulder, and he rested his on hers.
"So," he said, interrupting the silence.
"Mhm?" she murmured, her eyes closing.
"You never told me you play the piano."
"Played. Past-tense. And there are a lot of things you don't know about me," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Is that right?" he teased.
She lifted her head so she could look him in the eyes. "Well, I know more about you than you know about me, seeing as you've only known me for about three days, whereas I've known you for years, so yeah, that's right."
He gave a defeated chuckle, but let go of her, running over to the tree. These events happened so fast that it took Jess a moment to comprehend that she should probably follow him.
He reached inside the prickly green mass, and then turned around, holding a small box with a blue – TARDIS blue – bow on top. His shy smile returned as she carefully grabbed it from his hand.
"I know it's not Christmas yet, but .... This is me saying sorry, for earlier today." She gave him a diffident glance, assuring him that it was perfectly okay.
With trembling fingers, she pulled at one end of the ribbon, loosening it and letting it fall. She opened the lid, and not suspecting much, pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
Merry Christmas. Hope you find this useful.
Doctor x
Jess used all of her willpower not to cry – and especially not to fangirl. Under the paper lay a small, seemingly regular silver key, not unlike the many given to his previous companions. But she couldn't stop the tears this time. Her hands immediately wiped them away, but not before the Doctor saw. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, letting her get over whatever state she was in.
"Doctor," she finally whispered, gratitude pouring from her words. "Thank you. You're – I just – thank you." She looked up at him, and he was smiling.
"But, I just have to ask: why me?" She closed the lid and placed it in her pocket.
"Well, who else?" Jess gave him a skeptical look, but the wide smile returned to her face.
"Oh!" she said a moment later, realization hitting her, "I haven't gotten you anything for Christmas!"
He looked surprised at her change in tone so quickly. "You don't have to get me anything," he assured.
"But I do!" She put the box in her pocket. "Don't move. I'll be right back."
Jess raced out of the main control room and maneuvered her way through the corridor-maze until she got to her bedroom. She searched frantically for a large piece of parchment or wrapping paper or something.
She then realized that she was mentally linked with an ancient time machine, and that if she asked for something, she'd probably get it. So, awkwardly, she sat down on her bed and began to talk.
"Uh, hi. This is completely weird and new so I'm sorry if I sound stranger than usual, but Christmas is tomorrow, and I kind of need to wrap the gift I have for him – the Doctor, I mean. So, if you could kindly – oh!" She must have said something right, because leaning against her bookshelf was a roll of wrapping paper with snowflakes and little cartoon Daleks. She quickly wrapped her present to him, and dashed back to where he was, not before whispering a quick thanks to the walls of the corridors, afraid that if someone were to hear her, she'd be put in a mental institution.
Unable to understand how the Doctor and his companions could love running so much, she thrust the Dalek-covered gift in his hands and sat down, allowing her heart rate to slow and her breathing to go back to normal. (It wasn't that she was out-of-shape – which technically, potato was a shape – but that the distance from her room to the main control room was a bit less than half a mile.)
"Oh, Jessica, you didn't have to do this," he said, laughing at the wrapping paper.
"Just open it," she said, folding her legs onto the chair.
He slowly tore the paper away, and held the unwrapped book in his hands. It was tattered, and ink-smudged, and loved nonetheless. But, Jess had realized, she had written in her last page, and the words scribbled inside were of no real meaning to her. However, they could be important to him.
So, he unwound the string keeping the pages bound, and opened to the first page.
"No, Jess," he said, closing it. He tried to hand it back to her, but she just shook her head. "I can't take this. It's too – I can't."
"Seriously, Doctor, you can have it. You want to know more about me, read that book."
He gave a small huff, and muttered a thank you.
"Haha, be pouty. Oh, and Merry Christmas," she said sarcastically.
There was then a loud creak, like the opening of a door. Jess spun around, and saw Elaine, eyes wide and legs paralyzed. The Doctor saw her too, and slapped on a big, goofy smile.
"Oh – my – God." Jess couldn't keep herself from laughing at her astonishment.
"Hey Elaine," Jess called. "Shut the door behind you, it's freezing."
"Jess, it's only fifty degrees out," the Doctor murmured, stifling a laugh himself.
"It's still cold, okay?" she retorted.
Elaine began to move, but she couldn't keep her eyes off of the TARDIS. "But – but – it – it was –" she stammered, finally looking to Jess for answers.
"Yeah, it's bigger on the inside," the Doctor said for her, pleased that he managed to dumbfound yet another person with his time machine.
"Actually," Jess corrected, "it's dimensionally transcendental."
Elaine gave her a look that told her to shut up, but also to know what the hell she had just said.
"Don't need to be too technical, Jess."
"Yes, but then there's also the possibility of not being technical enough, mister 'Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey'," Jess countered.
"Hey, that was a different regeneration –"
"But it was still you."
"Can you two please stop being adorable idiots and tell me why I saw a tiny blue box out there and a giant space ship in here?" she asked, growing impatient.
"Wow," Jess muttered, trying still to stay on her nerves. "First guess is a giant space ship. That's about half-right, yeah?"
"Well, time machine, space ship, same difference."
"Seriously you two, I think I'm gonna puke."
"Elaine," Jess said in her sardonically sophisticated tone, "it's completely irrelevant to call the Doctor and me adorable, strictly speaking because the age difference is enormous. More enormous than you and your boyfriends."
"Wait, how old is he then?" Elaine asked, inquisitive. The biggest age difference between her and her boyfriends – and hookups – was only about ten years.
"Well, I'm nine-hundred and nine –"
"Which is eight-hundred and ninety four years' age difference."
"Oh my God, Jess."
The three of them began to laugh at how completely absurd the entire situation was.
"Wait, Elaine," Jess said, completely serious, as the laughter died down. "How did you know we were in here?"
"Your mom told me." Jess's muscles tensed.
"She also said something about being sorry about last night – I didn't get you in trouble, did I?"
Jess shook her head. "Nah, just some stupid fight. Hey, are you staying over? There are about a billion rooms in here."
"Yeah, my dad's got something going on at work and the little one's got some other things he's gotta do – on Christmas, I know – but Melissa said I could stay, but I think I'll just sleep in your room. This place makes my head want to explode."
"That tends to happen. Well, when you see my mom, will you tell her that if she wants to apologize, to say it to my face?" Jess tried to say it in the nicest possible way, but Elaine seemed to sense that something wasn't right.
"'I'm not a bloody owl,'" she said, quoting Harry Potter, in her best impression of Hermione Granger.
"Read the books and I'll let you quote JK Rowling," Jess called as she walked away, her spirits rising.
"Well, Merry Christmas to you too."
A/N I AM SO SORRY
IT'S BEEN LIKE TWO WEEKS SINCE I UPDATED
YOU GUYS MUST HATE ME SO MUCH.
But anyway, I love this chapter for some unknown reason. Maybe it's because of the cute little decorated TARDIS on the side (which you should look at right now), or maybe it's because Jess has finally discovered the wonders of classical music.
Or maybe it's because Elaine ships Jess/11 (which you guys need a ship name for).
Yeah. Vote, comment, whatever.
(AND THANK YOU GUYS SO SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE 700+ READS IN THE PAST TWO WEEKS! ILYSM)
(and I'm also very happy with all of my season one references c:)