Title: The Ghost of Christmas Past

Author: Mindy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't shoot.

Spoilers: Through to "Journey's End."

Summary: Ten/Donna. The Doctor gives Donna something she'll never forget.

A/N: Please review.

I.

The Doctor made his way through the crowds and smoke, ducking under low hanging awnings and dodging rickety trolleys. The path was muddy and chaotic and the atmosphere was overrun by a constant clatter. Even amongst it all, Donna was never hard to find. All he had to do was look for that familiar flash of red hair. Or locate the closest matchmaker. He found her standing at a corner stall, sticking colourful chopsticks into her ponytail.

She turned to him with a quizzical expression, both hands held up: "What d'you think?"

"Ginger Chow Mein?" he smirked in response.

Donna pursed her lips, her eyes drifting up to the unruly peaks of his hair: "Like you can talk."

The Doctor sniffed and checked his reflection in the cloudy mirror that hung on a nearby post. "Got you something," he announced, lifting his hand and holding out the little embroidered bag the merchant had wrapped his treasure in.

Donna was pulling a face as she tugged the ornaments out of her hair. "What's that?"

"What's it look like?" he answered impatiently: "It's a present."

"You don't have any money," she pointed out: "How on earth did you pay for a present?"

The Doctor shrugged: "With a riddle."

She suppressed a smile. "You bought me a present with a riddle?"

"It was a very good riddle," he told her justifyingly: "It was imparted to me by a Sheikh from the Andlemere Galaxy. Been saving it for nearly three hundred years -- you don't just throw away material like that."

Donna shook her head at him: "Do have any idea how strange you sound sometimes?"

He held the little bag up by it's strings, dangling it back and forth: "Do you want this or not?"

"Yup," she nodded, reaching out her hand: "Thankyou."

He leant in with his fingers at his ear: "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said thankyou," she repeated with a clenched jaw.

He dangled the bag further out of her reach. "Nope," he muttered, wagging his head: "still didn't catch it."

"Oh, gimme it," she scowled, snatching the bag and loosening the ties. She shook it a few times and onto her palm fell a ring set with a large oval charcoal stone.

Donna looked up at him dubiously. "Is this another bio-thingie?" she asked bluntly: "Did you spot a creepy Santa or something?"

"It's your Christmas present. I saw it and I thought of you," the Doctor grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels: "Do you like it?"

Donna opened her mouth, nodding slowly: "It's… ah…very," she stalled for a moment: "...big."

"Yep. That's the first thing I noticed about it," he agreed gleefully: "It's bigness."

"Doctor…" she began hesitantly, her lips twisting slightly: "Do you have any idea what it means to give an earth girl a ring?"

"Aaaaah," he mused, taking the ring and holding it up to the bright afternoon light: "but this is not just any ring. This stone was cut from the underwater cliffs of a planet called Jaarryte. Legend has it only mermaids could dive deep enough to retrieve the rocks. They would collect them to make into necklaces. They're very rare nowadays."

"Mermaids…?" Donna murmured, taking the stone from him and examining it: "How'd that make you think of me?"

"You're both changeable, persuasive creatures with a violent streak," he answered wryly: "Put it on, see if it fits."

Donna held up a finger, peering at him from beneath her eyebrows: "Just to be perfectly clear, this doesn't make me your alien chattel or anything, right?"

He smirked and tugged on one of her fingers: "Only if you wear it on this finger."

"Very funny," she replied dryly, slipping the ring onto her middle finger. She held her hand out, admiring the gift as it glinted in the sun. "Hm," she noted: "Actually looks quite nice." She twisted it round to show him, wiggling her fingers: "And I could do some serious damage if I punch anyone."

"I'll tread carefully then," the Doctor murmured with a smile.

"Of course, you do realise," she mused slowly, her gaze still lowered to the stone on her hand: "that Christmas is ages away."

"Is it?" he mused incredulously, lifting one hand to cup his jaw: "Oh…"

"Wait-- when are we again?" Donna paused, thinking for a moment: "Now, I'm starting to loose track. But you've gotta be at least, I dunno, six months early."

"Oh, that's a terrible shame…" he murmured, pulling a twig out of his pocket.

Donna tipped her head to one side: "What's that meant to be?"

The Doctor looked at it and gave it a shake: "Mistletoe."

She made a noise in the back of her throat. "Doesn't look anything like it."

"Donnaaaa," he whined: "Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"Back in December where it belongs," she retorted, turning to browse through the stalls of the market again.

"What a waste," he commented, shaking his head as he trailed her. He picked up a gadget from the next shopfront, watched it whir for a moment then plopped it back down. "I love Christmas," he enthused: "something exciting always happens."

Donna scoffed: "Something exciting happens every day of your life, Doctor. There would be more cause for celebration if it didn't."

He skipped around in front of her, holding up the mistletoe again with a mischievous smile. "Nothing's happening right now," he hinted winningly.

Donna laughed and ducked her head. When she looked back up, her eyes were shinning with warmth. "Merry Early Christmas, Doctor," she said, laying her hands on his shoulders. She leant in and kissed his cheek.

"And a Very Merry Early Christmas to you too," he returned, grinning widely.

As she settled back on her heels, he swept in suddenly, enveloping her in a hug and pulling her up off her feet for a second. Donna squealed, laughing breathlessly when he released her.

"I haven't got you anything though," she sighed after a moment.

"No, I don't want anything," he answered, waving a hand in the air as they continued strolling down the clattering street.

"Nothing?" she asked, looking up at him: "Why not?"

"Because….this year..." his voice trailed off for a moment as his eyes roved over the hectic activity encircling them: "well....I got you…Didn't I?" He stopped walking and looked down at her, his eyes suddenly intent: "You found me. You came with me."

Donna held his gaze, surprise in her eyes and a small smile on her lips.

The Doctor leaned in. "What more could a Time Lord ask for?" he murmured emphatically.

She scunched her nose at him. "A pony?"

"Well," he hummed, taking her hand in his: "there's always next year."

Donna nodded as they walked on: "I'll keep that in mind."

II.

Donna stared up at the bright blue angel topping the Christmas tree. The thing looked a little creepy to her. Her eyes drifted about the familiar room, covered in ripped paper and discarded ribbon. She took a sip of her tea as her gaze landed back on her mum and grandad, sitting either side of the tree, both caught up in the thrill of Christmas morning.

"There's one more!" her mother announced, retrieving the last parcel from deep underneath the branches of the tree.

"Is it for me?!" her grandad asked, bouncing in his seat.

"It hasn't got a card," Sylvia said, turning it over and over: "It's your wrapping paper, Donna, is it one of yours?"

Donna looked up, her mind snapping back to the present. "What…?" she glanced at the present in her mother's hands: "Yeah, that's from me."

"Who's it for though?" her mother asked just as it was stolen from her hands.

"Feels like a book," her gramps commented excitedly, giving the parcel a shake: "Is it a book?"

Donna shook her head as if to clear it and replied falteringly: "It's a book of um….oh, what do you call 'em…?" she waved her hand in the air: "you know, riddles."

She can remember browsing through the bookshop. She can remember spotting the book, picking it up and taking it to the counter. Even then, she wasn't sure what exactly compelled her.

Her mum looked at her warily. "Who'd you buy it for then?"

"Um…" Donna shook her head again: "I…" she laughed faintly: "I don't remember."

"Must've been me," her grandad chuckled: "eh, sweetheart?"

"Give it here," Sylvia muttered, snatching the present back.

"Oi," he protested.

"Leave it under the tree," she told him firmly, replacing the unclaimed gift: "Donna can give it to one of the neighbourhood boys if she wants to." She got to her feet, wading through the colourful mess concealing the carpet: "Now, you two can clean up in here while I get myself changed. Then we'll go for our walk."

Donna watched her grandad begin to gather the remains of their Christmas morning celebrations. Her mother stopped at the doorway, pulling her silky robe about her ample bust.

"Alright, Donna?" she murmured softly.

Donna looked up suddenly, a question in her eyes. "Yeah," she nodded: "Lovely."

Her mother smiled faintly then went to change. Donna set aside her tea and got onto her knees, grabbing an armful of scraps and tinsel. As she reached out to retrieve a bauble that had fallen from her pile, the ring on her finger caught her eye. She tilted it back and forth, watching it glint off the Christmas lights strewn about the room

She had no earthly idea where she'd picked up the strange piece. It was not her usual style. In fact, usually she did not like to wear rings. Without this one though, she had the distinct feeling she'd be lost. Every night when she took it off and left it on her dresser, she wondered why she'd been compelled to put it on that day. And yet every morning, without fail, she never felt right, never felt complete, until she put it on again.

It had become something of a talisman for her. Which was strange because she got the oddest sensation whenever she looked at it. Like panic, or remorse or some bizarre disorientation. Almost like she'd left the iron on or forgotten to do something, say something, call someone.

Every time she looked at it, it was like there was something she wasn't quite seeing. It was more than unsettling. Yet, what unsettled her more was the thought of loosing that unexpected, inexplicable stab of emotion whenever she looked at the bleak, curious stone. Because that's when she feared she might have lost her mind completely.

"D'you say something, Donna?" her grandad asked, interrupting her thoughts once again.

"Did I?" she mumbled, resuming her clean-up duties.

"Sounded like 'Andlemere'," he chuckled, eyeing her anxiously.

"That's not even a word," she said, smiling at him as she got to her feet and stuffed the rubbish into the bag he was holding out.

"You alright, love?" he asked, searching her face: "You seem miles away."

"I'm fine, Gramps, honestly," she nodded, fighting back the lump in her throat. She went to the tree and reached underneath for the nameless parcel: "I'll just drop this next door. The kids can have it."

Hugging the book to her chest, she hurried out of the room and through the kitchen. She ripped away the red wrapping paper and threw it towards the bin.

Donna shivered and released a breath as she slipped out the back door, closing it softly behind her. Standing on the back step, she leafed through the hefty book, smoothing the glossy pages and tracing the black text with her fingertips. It was a beautiful book. It was a shame she couldn't remember who she'd bought it for.

She gazed up at the cloud-filled sky, wiping a single tear from her cheek. Nobody should be forgotten at Christmas.

END.