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You were finishing the last of your annual Christmas wrapping in your TARDIS-assigned bedroom when a knock interrupted you. "You ready?" Yaz called. "Graham, Ryan, and The Doc are already in the living room."
Right. The living room. You had long accepted that the TARDIS held rooms the Doctor didn’t bother explaining. You’d once wandered into a Lego castle and, another time, an aquarium. The ship, seemingly, liked to keep things interesting.
You pressed the final piece of tape down, added a bow to the book, and grabbed the gift bag with your other presents. "One sec! I’ll meet you there." Yaz left with a nod.
The gathering had managed to surprise you. The TARDIS had provided side dishes, snacks and desserts, including a fruitcake so good Graham insisted the ship must have stolen it. The others had laughed at him, you consoled him.
Yaz handed you a leather-bound journal. "You act tough, but you need an outlet. Thought this might help."
Ryan’s gift, a tote bag of a band you’d infodumped to him months ago, was very endearing.
Graham proudly gave you a tea box set that you’d once stared at too long during one of your adventures.
The Doctor, in her own fashion, gifted you a sparkling star fragment. "This star was born on the same day you were," she smiled sheepishly, "Figured you two should meet."
Eventually the evening quieted down. One by one, the Doctor returned her companions home. When the TARDIS materialised outside your building, you paused at the door.
"Thanks for the gift," you said. "Really."
The Doctor shrugged. "It’s nothing. You’re my friend, after all."
Something felt off. In that moment you couldn’t point out what exactly. A hint of loneliness, maybe. "Are you sure you’ll be alright until after the new year? Leaving you alone feels… weird." You knew how she got sometimes.
The Doctor reassured you, "I’ll be fine. The TARDIS needs tinkering, anyway. We’ll keep busy."
The time lord wished you a Merry Christmas and materialised to the Vortex.
Not too long after you were sat at your sofa. Your mind couldn’t help but drift back to the gathering. Everything you’d been gifted was kind, thoughtful… too thoughtful.
It only made you more aware of the lack of a gift for someone who hadn’t been there. The Master.
For months you’d let him humour the idea of you acting as a "guest-companion," his words. You’d made him promise to keep his mouth shut. It didn’t seem like the right moment for The Doctor to know yet. Who knows how she would react, is what you fretted almost every night in bed.
The last few times you had seen The Master, he looked cold. Literally cold. Which made no sense, considering his physiology. But the thought stuck. If he bothered visiting her in December, he deserved more than that. Warmth.
That particular idea of yours led you to the knitting aisle of a DIY store, days before Christmas. "Do you have purple wool?" You’d asked the shopkeeper.
"Back aisle," the lady answered with a smile.
You found yourself surrounded by shades of violet, magenta, plum, and lavender. Lavender was perfect. You handed money to the cashier and spent three days at home, knitting a scarf. It was more effort than you’d ever admit to him.
‘i know this is last minute but do you have time on the 23rd?’
‘i kinda need company. i may or may not bore myself to death…’
‘if not, that’s fine. offer still stands :)’
You had texted The Master a few days ago, but he’d left you on read. That was a bummer, but you refused to dwell further on it. He has other things to do? Totally fine, you convinced yourself.
You were adjusting your blazer for the charity concert when the familiar whoosh made you pause in your living room.
The TARDIS. In the middle of the hallway.
"You could’ve been more specific," a voice grumbled from behind the doors. "The 23rd of what? And don’t get me started on the year-"
Of course it was him. You didn’t know whether to be angry at him for showing up, or not at all.
"How many times have I told you not to materialise in the middle of my flat?" You scolded him.
He answered smugly, too pleased with himself. Your outfit made him pause his tirade. Much more effort than what you’d usually put in your looks. "Where are you going?"
"Charity event. My family got invited. They dragged me into it."
He scoffed. "Christmas and charity in one evening? Utterly boring. You’ll fall asleep before intermission. Pathetic source of entertainment."
"Then it’s a good thing you’re not supposed to be there." You rolled your eyes, opened a cupboard, and grabbed a black-wrapped present. "This isn’t why I invited you."
His eyebrows drew together.
"I got you something." You handed him the box. He started opening it, paused when he saw the scarf. "You said not to buy you anything, so… I made one instead." You hesitated.
His eyes softened. You took that as permission and wrapped the lavender scarf around his neck. The colour suited him perfectly. "I don’t do gifts," he murmured. "You know that. And I definitely don’t deserve this. Take it back."
"Well, I don’t care. It’s for you, anyway." You grinned. "You’re my friend, so I had to. It’s part of the friend code. Very, erm, official Earth rule. Very... high regarded. You wouldn’t want to break it, by refusing my gift."
He fought back a smile. He failed miserably, as you saw a hint of a smile.
"... Very well" He grabbed your hand suddenly. "Come on."
You yelped, "Where are we going?" You attempted grabbing your purse before he pushed you out of the door.
"Someone has to make sure you don’t die of boredom at that charity concert."