Chapter Text
"— then, you've shown me a giant snowman—"
"Check," the Doctor chimed in from the other side of the console, fingers busy dancing over the controls.
"A town called Christmas," you continued.
"Not a town, the town called Christmas," she corrected, pulling a lever down with flair. "But… check."
"And the in-reality-very-boring North Pole."
The Doctor wrinkled her nose. "Check. Still no idea who all those people are, but they’re definitely not Santa Claus. I mean, did you see that house? Nothing inside it!"
You spun on your heel, beaming at her. "Well, that’s it then. We’ve seen it all! Nothing's new about Christmas anymore."
She grimaced playfully. "Bit of a fib, that. There’s always something new about Christmas. Or about anyone. Or anything, really." Her hands flew over the console, typing something before bending slightly to peer into what you guessed was a microscope. Then, she pulled another lever down and joined you with a grin. "Which is brilliant, right? Love to see new things, me."
You loved seeing new things, too. For example, over the last few Christmas trips you'd requested, you’d seen a lot of new things about the Doctor. Like how she might love sugar just a little too much. Or how she loved showing you planets and places she’d already been to, just to watch your reaction.
Or how she sometimes looks at you a certain way when she thinks you’re not paying attention.
And how you’d like to be the reason for that look every day of your life.
The Doctor was standing close to you, so much closer than ever before, beaming brighter than a supernova. Your heartbeat quickened as your gaze locked on her eyes, the amber glow of the TARDIS lights turning her into a living, breathing — incredibly attractive — sun.
But you knew this feeling very well and you loved seeing new things. You wondered just how many more new things about her were waiting for you to find.
So, you grinned back at her. "Show me something new, then."
Her grin widened, and she turned, dashing off to the other side of the console. "I knew you'd say that and I might have just the thing! Brace yourself," she called, her hand hovering over the take-off lever. She waited for you to grab the edge of the console, nodding eagerly at her, before exclaiming, “Something new, here we go!"
***
The TARDIS doors opened to reveal one of the most lively, enchanting Christmas views you’d ever seen. The sky above stretched in a deep, almost purplish blue, scattered with flickering yellow lights that seemed to dance – like fireflies – endlessly into the horizon. Snow fell softly earthward, settling on the shoulders and hats of the people strolling along a winding promenade. The path was lined with what appeared to be trees, but unlike any you'd seen on Earth. While they were decorated with familiar strands of twinkling Christmas lights, the trees themselves seemed alive with their own inner luminescence – some branches pulsing with blue light, others shifting through spectrums of yellow, crimson, and emerald green.
You stood frozen in the TARDIS doorway, mouth slightly agape, your eyes drinking in every possible detail. You might have stayed there forever, lost in amazement, if not for the gentle warmth radiating from behind you, breaking through your trance.
You turned to see the Doctor, her face lit with an amused smile as she watched your reaction. “Ten out of ten?” she asked, knowing full well she'd managed to render you speechless.
But you weren’t about to make this easy for her. “Too early to tell,” you replied with a playful grin.
“Fair enough,” she conceded with a chuckle, her hand finding your upper arm to gently guide you aside. The TARDIS doors closed with their familiar creak, but her touch remained, and your gaze traced an inevitable path from that point of contact, following the line of her arm upward like a moth searching for a flame.
Her golden hair seemed to catch the glow of the stars above, though even their brilliance couldn’t compare. Snowflakes nestled on the hood of her coat, but didn't melt immediately, as if they were drawn to her warmth just as you were, wanting to linger in her orbit. When your wandering gaze finally reached her face, you discovered her eyes were already waiting for yours. There was a spark of curiosity in them – the one responsible for saving entire planets and civilisations — but this time tempered with something else, something you didn’t know how to define yet.
You followed the Doctor’s hand as she lowered it, extending her arm toward you. “I’ll show you ten, then,” she said with a mischievous smile — half challenging, half promising. You returned the grin, locking your arm with hers as she led the way toward the bustling promenade.
“Guesses?” she asked, drawing your attention from the mesmerising landscape once more. You immediately knew what she meant: it was a little game you'd invented together, where you’d try to guess the century or whether you were on Earth or not, piecing together clues from your surroundings and what you’d picked up during your travels with her. Your track record was spectacularly terrible — you'd yet to guess correctly a single time. But that was never the point.
To be completely honest, you only played along to indulge her love of explaining the details she knew had captivated you. There was something about the way she lit up, her excitement spilling over into mini-lectures about time and space, that you couldn’t help but adore.
You looked up at the sky again, the first thing that had caught your attention. “The stars are too close, so we’re not on Earth. And I don’t think they’d look that yellow.”
“But?” the Doctor prompted, her tone inviting.
“But…” You glanced around, studying the trees lining the path with a keener eye. “The trees are decorated with Christmas lights like the ones back home, so… Earth settlers?” you guessed.
She hummed approvingly. “And?”
“Humans in space is… 29th century?”
“Nice work!” she exclaimed, stopping in her tracks and turned to you with an excited grin. “At this rate, you’ll be stealing my job in no time!”
Her words and that radiant smile had a way of undoing you. Suddenly, you knew how the snow must feel, melting away in the presence of anything warm. In your case, it felt like your very soul was dripping along the path, leaving you defenceless under her gaze. “So, did I get it right?” you asked quickly, hoping to shift her focus before you joined the melting snow entirely.
The Doctor made a contemplative humming sound that morphed into something close to a ‘not really’.
“Nearly. This planet is inhabited by human settlers, but we’re actually in the 31st century. Welcome to Magicus Levis! This planet is known for its bioluminescent flora and the people’s clever use of magic in their everyday lives.” She paused briefly, her grin widening as she nudged you with her elbow and added, “Bit on the nose, that name.” Without waiting for a reply, she reached for your hand, tugging you to keep walking.
“Of course,” she continued, her words flowing with a melodic quality, “what they call magic is just another type of science. These people have mastered the manipulation of atmospheric elements, bending them for specific purposes. Those glowing lights up there? Not stars at all! They've taken their bioluminescent plants — clever little things — and launched them into the atmosphere. They're burning, yes, but at exactly the right temperature to amplify their natural glow rather than destroy it.”
The Doctor exhaled a cloud of vapor into the crisp air, her face illuminated by the golden glow from above, wearing that expression of pure joy that made her look both ancient and childlike at once. "What a universe!" she exclaimed.
Truth be told, you were mostly absorbing her words rather than listening attentively because... She’d reached for your hand. She was holding your hand. Touching your hand. Pulling— Okay, you really needed to stop repeating that sentence in your head, but that was something new. Internally, you felt like you were levitating, like you’d won the lottery and this was the reward, turning you suddenly into the richest person in the galaxy.
The thought, combined with the Doctor's infectious excitement, made you laugh softly. You followed her gaze, looking up at the sky again, and nodded. “Yeah, she’s stunning.”
The Doctor stopped abruptly, lowering her head to look at you. Her brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head. “Who is?”
That’s when it hit you. What you’d just said. And to be fair, you weren’t wrong — as far as universes go, the Doctor was absolutely the most beautiful one. But she wasn’t supposed to know that, was she?
“The universe, I mean,” you said quickly, attempting to sound as casual as possible.
“She?” the Doctor pressed, her eyebrow arching in that way that made your brain short-circuit.
You cleared your throat, feeling the telltale heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “It,” you corrected, drawing in a sharp breath. The cold air burned its way down your throat, triggering a coughing fit that made you want to crawl into the nearest glowing tree and disappear forever.
That's when a smiling, inviting voice came from behind you. “A hot chocolate would help you with that.”
Still coughing, you turned toward the source of the voice (and was that a smirk playing on the Doctor’s face?) to find a woman sitting behind a small table. She was incredibly old by your standards, her face wrinkled and marked by the passage of time, her hair as white as the snow softly falling onto her head. Her eyes were sparkling light blue, like two gemstones gleaming, captivating, hypnotising, disorienting even, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you suddenly felt an overwhelming need for hot chocolate.
The table in front of her held a variety of beverages and appetisers, though you barely noticed them, your attention riveted by those mesmerising eyes. Slowly, you let go of the Doctor’s hand and stepped closer to the table, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Doctor… can we get some?”
Seeing you got no reply, you reluctantly — and with a lot of difficulty — tore your eyes away from the woman to glance at the Doctor. She was already standing next to you, mistrust written all over her face as her eyes darted between the woman and the array of items on the table.
“Hot chocolate, you say?” the Doctor asked, her tone overly casual, which by now you had learnt meant she wasn’t feeling casual at all.
“To warm the throat and to guide the heart,” the lady replied calmly as she dipped her head in a slight bow toward the Doctor.
You couldn’t understand why the Doctor looked so suspicious. After all, you’d eaten far more questionable things before, and it had never stopped her from eagerly jumping at the chance of trying something new.
Still, her wary expression stayed as you turned your gaze back to the woman. Her eyes seemed to draw you in, your thoughts clouding as if they were sinking into water. Unable to resist, you tugged at the Doctor’s sleeve, your voice dipping into a near plea.
“Let me have one. Pretty please,” you said, almost breathless.
The Doctor grimaced slightly, her reluctance clear, but after a pause, she relented with a resigned shrug. “I suppose…”
Before she could add anything, the woman extended a warm cup toward you, its lid firmly sealed to keep the liquid safe inside. The moment your fingers brushed the cup, a surge of inexplicable excitement coursed through you, as if this simple drink held the answer to something you hadn’t realised you were asking.
Eager to savour it, you reached for the lid, only to feel the Doctor’s hands brush against yours.
“No, no, no, not so fast!” she exclaimed, deftly stealing the cup from your grasp and walking away from the woman’s prying eyes.
A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. “I just want to drink some hot chocolate! Is that a crime under the Shadow Proclamation or something?”
“It could be,” she replied matter-of-factly, pulling the sonic screwdriver from her coat pocket. Her eyes flicked to your face — your unwavering gaze fixed longingly on the cup in her hands — then studied the surrounding area. “We must've reached some sort of market. Lots of tables like hers.”
You didn’t respond. Talking meant acknowledging anything other than the drink, and you were determined to reclaim it. The Doctor must have realised you weren’t budging without it because she finally cracked open the lid and held the sonic to the liquid inside.
“Moment of truth, then. This is…” Her brow furrowed as she read the results. Then, she scrunched up her face. “… a perfectly normal cup of hot chocolate.”
You chuckled, suppressing the urge to say “told you so”, and reached for the drink. But when your hands wrapped around the cup, the Doctor didn’t let go. Instead, your hands ended up cupping hers around it. Your breath hitched, and you froze, unsure of what to do — if you let go, would you be too obvious? If you stayed, would you make her uncomfortable?
Lucky for you, the Doctor seemed to be completely unaffected, entirely focused on the drink. She leant in to sniff it, her brow furrowed in concentration, and then, to your horror (or something else), dipped the tip of her tongue into the hot chocolate. She flapped it repeatedly as though to test the taste, her gaze drifting skyward in deep contemplation.
“Hey!” you protested indignantly. “I’m still going to drink that!”
“A lot of artificial components, but thankfully no poisoning,” she said matter-of-factly. “Also, could do with more sugar. Alright, here you go,” she finally conceded.
That’s when she noticed your predicament: both of you were holding the small cup. Together.
Both of your hands, touching both of hers, wrapped around a warm, tiny cup.
You were definitely going to melt tonight.
“Right,” she began.
“I can—,” you tried.
But at the same time, she said, “I will—.”
You chuckled nervously, trying to gauge the Doctor’s reaction. Her face was unreadable, her eyes fixed where your hands touched, and the rest of her body as rigid as a statue.
Again, you both started speaking at once.
“I’ll let go—”
“No, we can’t both let go—”
“You let go first—”
She wrinkled her nose, her gaze darting between your face and the cup, but never quite meeting your eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder how ridiculous you both must’ve looked to the passersby, clutching a cup of hot chocolate like it was made of gold.
Taking advantage of her hesitation, you quickly let go, watching as her shoulders visibly relaxed. She extended the cup to you, and you accepted it, carefully avoiding brushing her fingers again.
With your most prized possession finally back in your hands, an overwhelming need to drink it consumed you. Without a second thought, you gulped the liquid in one go, ignoring the faint but amused “cheers” from the Doctor.
It was the best hot chocolate you’d ever tasted — it tingled on your tongue, and its warmth seemed to reach your very soul. The sensation was indescribable, almost magical, though you couldn’t quite tell if it was the drink itself or the lingering warmth of the Doctor’s hands on your palms and the weight of her gaze still steady on you.
Once your amazement was over, you glanced at the Doctor, who was watching you intently, her hands on her hips and her brows furrowed. You offered a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Feeling alright? Any tingling? Escotomas?” she asked, reminding you why she’d chosen the name Doctor in the first place.
You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up. "You said yourself it was fine. What’s gotten into you?”
She pushed her lower lip up shaking her head lightly, her gaze briefly flicking toward the direction you’d come from. “Dunno what it is, but she definitely didn’t pass my vibe check.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t clearly recall the woman’s face, her voice, or even most of what she’d said. It was like your mind clouded over with fog whenever you tried to focus on your memories of her. All you retained was the delicious hot chocolate and those unsettlingly bright blue eyes.
You were debating whether to mention this to the Doctor when she lightly tapped your arm, her grin pulling you back to the moment. “Come on, then! Plenty more new things to show you.”
She extended her hand for you, and you quickly took it, allowing her to guide you back towards the path you’d walked on. The two of you soon became lost in the wonder of the glowing trees, the bright not-stars and each other’s company. So much so, neither of you noticed the old lady’s table now conspicuously empty, the foods and drinks gone, the woman vanished without a trace. Nor did you spot the faint, squared imprint in the snow — a vacant mark along the promenade where something important, something blue, should have been…