Possibly, I'm Insane

glory_jean

The Doctor intends them to be festive. He finds self-jingling bells on the planet Bog and puts them up all over the TARDIS. Bells jingle all up and down the hallways.

Rose says, “It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

The Doctor says, “The kids love it!”

The TARDIS adds helpful sound-proofing.

But it turns out the kids do not love it.

Fortuna says flatly, “Father Christmas is stalking us.”

Athena adds, “The jingle bells are surveillance.”

Brem continues, “We are living in a virtual police state.”

Rose says, “I see they were paying attention during your history lessons on totalitarianism.”  

For postynotemusing 

Rose’s kids are not good at waiting. It is not one of the skills valued by time travelers.

Rose buys them Advent calendars and brings them back to the TARDIS. The kids are utterly perplexed.

“You open one of the little doors each day of December,” she explains.

“But,” Brem says, nose scrunched up with thought, “why not just open them all at once?”

“That’s not the point. It’s for counting down each day to Christmas.”

“But we could just skip ahead to Christmas,” Athena points out quizzically.

“I vote we just open every door now,” Fortuna proposes.

Rose sighs.

postynotemusing

Life on the TARDIS meant that whatever they saw anywhere, no matter the planet or galaxy, they had only to ask for it, and it would be accomplished. Such was remodeling on the TARDIS.

The feature was most useful when it came to the kids, who, as teenagers, changed their rooms on a weekly basis. Time Lords, Rose learned, found no need to change their clothes but were dedicated to changing their wall colors and décor at a frenetic pace. Luckily, TARDIS life meant that all Rose had to do was be invited, pleasantly (and frequently), to assorted big reveals.

“There’s something wrong with the TARDIS,” the girls said in unison, as Brem frowned at the console.

“Uh-oh,” the Doctor said, because he could feel it, too. “It’s a windstorm.”

“In outer space?” said Rose.

The Doctor shrugged. “It can have its own kind of weather. Doesn’t happen often, but we can’t travel against a headwind like this.”

“So we’re snowed in?” Athena asked, eyes shining.

“No snow, just wind—”

“It’s just like the movies, we’re snowed in, we need to make hot cocoa and tell stories,” Fortuna insisted.

“It’s wind,” the Doctor said.

He found himself making cocoa.

sdlibrarian

The Doctor knew better than anyone that the TARDIS was limitless. There were countless nooks and crannies he knew nothing about.

Like the amusement park.

It’s the kids who discover that one, bouncing around talking about roller coasters.

“Roller coasters?” he said blankly. “What?” He looked at Rose, who shrugged.

“No idea,” she said.

“Come see!” Fortuna exclaimed, grabbing his hand.

And there it was, right down six hallways and around three corners, a room with a roller coaster.

“Wellllll,” said the Doctor, amazed, and didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s even got a water slide!” Brem pointed out.

acciochocolate

The girls want to go ice skating.

“Please, please,” they beg, leaping up and down. “Please can we go?”

They dig through the wardrobe in search of ice skates that will fit, they gather coats and hats and mittens. Brem wants hockey skates, and the Doctor finds him figure skates, and it is very tragic.

But finally, all of the kids are out on the ice and it’s snowing and the trees are twinkling with lights and the Doctor thinks it was the worth the effort.

The girls come barreling over. “We’re done now! Let’s go in for hot cocoa!”

The year that Athena and Fortuna developed an obsession with ballet (and more specifically the tutus associated with ballet), Rose suggested they should go see The Nutcracker performed.

The Doctor shuddered in deep horror. “Never. It’s horrifying. If you’d seen the real Nutcracker, you would understand.”

“The real Nutcracker?” Rose echoed.

“Yes, there’s a planet reigned over by a nutcracker, and he is terrifying. Always chomping down on people’s bits to punish them.” The Doctor shuddered again. “Where do you think Tchaikovsky got the idea from?”

Rose stared at him. “…You know that’s not what happens in the ballet, right?”

kaffy_r

Rose had by this time grown used to the light of all sorts of stars. On Earth, of course, the only star to shine was the sun. But out in the wide world of the universe, all sorts of stars shone in all sorts of ways. Her children grew up speaking not of sunshine but starshine.

Old habits died hard, thought. So when Rose accidentally remarked that it was sunny outside, her children laughed at her.

“Starry!” Fortuna exclaimed. “It’s starry out!”

“That’s not the sun,” Brem corrected his mum. “It’s Arcturus!”

“It’s Arcturus-y out!” Athena added.

And Rose smiled.