Written as a Christmas gift for the amazing Wil (lady-noble-song13 on tumblr). I own nothing, as always.

Donna awoke to the sound of the TARDIS landing.

She stood, startled, heading out to the console room. There was no sign of the Doctor. Her panic soon turned to annoyance as she searched the machine, calling out her friend's name. This better not be another prank, no one messes with my sleep, she thought, finding herself in the console room again. Except, this time, the TARDIS doors were open.

Cautiously, Donna stepped out into the world. She expected some alien planet, millions of different species floating or slithering past her. Something completely out of the ordinary and mind boggling.

Except she was home.

Donna sucked in a breath, her heart sinking. Was this the Doctor's way of telling her she had to leave? After all that they had been through, not even a goodbye?

But something wasn't right. This wasn't the home she was used to, it was… younger.

She recognized the lights than hung tackily from the house's singles, the ceramic Father Christmas that was on their front porch. That was from years ago, that broke when she was a little girl.

The snow on the ground was another clue - it had only snowed one Christmas (other than the one where she met the Doctor), the Christmas where everything went wrong.

She was seven that year, when one of the upperclassman at school had overheard her reading to her friends what she wrote on her Christmas list to send to Father Christmas in the courtyard after dismissal.

The boy, only about a grade or so older than her, grabbed the note from her hand and read it aloud to his friends. They laughed at her, ripped it up, and threw the shreds of paper into the snow.

"Father Christmas isn't real, you stupid ginge," he barked, his minions bellowing with laughter behind him. Donna Noble, never the one to let people push her around, took a step closer to him.

"Pick those papers up because I make you eat them! And he does too exist, you smelly git" she cried, trying desperately to hold back the tears that prickled behind her eyes.

"Awhh, little baby gonna cry?" he mocked, pointing out the lone tear that had slid down her flushed red cheeks. "Whatcha gonna do, freckle face? Throw carrots at me?"

Donna gritted her teeth and kneed him in the… well… where a boy wouldn't exactly want to be kneed, before rushing home.

Her mother and father tried to help her feel better, they told her the truth - Father Christmas wasn't real, but that shouldn't stop her from participating in the fun of Christmas. She refused to believe them, told them that they were all on the boy's side and that they were stupid. Her parents just sighed, rubbing her back as she cried crocodile tears into her cup of hot cocoa.

Then, on Christmas Eve, she waited. She stayed up all night on the couch, staring at the fireplace, waiting for Father Christmas to come down with his bag full of toys for her.

He never did.

Adult Donna walked to the window of her house, past the plastic reindeer and the sleigh, to see a little ginger girl sitting patiently on the couch. She had her blanket, one that her Nan gave her when she was an even littler girl, that she couldn't bring herself to part from. Her eyes drooped, threatening to close, but she would shake herself awake and continuing staring, waiting for a man that would never come.

But someone did.

Soot came first, crashing down the fireplace. Young Donna sprang to life, throwing her covers back. Then with a sputter, a man in a dirty red suit came crashing down the chimney.

Adult Donna's memories were staring to change. She couldn't remember anything from that night, except what was happening before her eyes.

And the man, as he crawled from out the fireplace and brushed off his suit, was her Spaceman.

"Father Christmas!" young Donna cried, bouncing with glee. He was real, and he came just like she knew he would. Oh, what she going to have a mouthful to give to that boy at school.

But something was off. He looked nothing like Father Christmas, all skinny and gangly without white hair or a beard. He looked like a regular man in a suit, like the ones that try to collect money for charity by the super markets.

"Father Christmas, why are you so…"

"What?" he asked, "so handsome? So young? So-"

"Skinny…"

The Doctor, dressed as Father Christmas, growled. Even as a little girl, his fiery ginger had something against his weight. He cleared his throat and came up with a clever lie.

"Well, Miss Donna Noble-"

"You know my name?"

"Well of course I do. I am Father Christmas, aren't I? I know the name of every little good girl and boy! The Father Christmas' you see, the ones in the stories and in the decorations, are made to look nothing like me. It's so I can go about unnoticed, and no one can hunt me down if they don't like the gift they get."

Both Donna's grinned, taken back by his words. Young Donna ran to the kitchen, grabbing a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for the both of them.

They sat down together on the couch, nibbling away silently. Finally, young Donna spoke.

"They said you weren't real, my parents and that boy from school. I knew you were, I just knew it."

The Doctor smiled sweetly, looking down at the younger version of his companion. Her eyes were wide, bright with hope and joy. He knew that one day she would know the truth, that he was nothing more than a friend trying to make her life happier, but that was years away.

"I will be real to those who want me to be, Donna Noble. All who believe, who love, who open their minds to the realm of the impossible, will know that I am here. Right… here," he pressed a finger to her chest, to where her heart was beating under her skin, and reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a box of emerald vinyl and handed it to Donna. She placed her empty glass down against the table, opening the box to reveal a beautiful gold necklace, with an impossible stone in the middle. It sparkled and glistened, colors swirling around inside of it, dancing and fluttering within its chamber.

"Only those who are kind and gentle can see what you see right now. Those who see the best in everyone and anything. Never take this off, Donna. And never change who you are. You are brilliant, magnificent, amazing. You are so important, however small you may seem. You'll change the world one day, I know so. Merry Christmas, Miss Noble."

Young Donna looked up, to thank Father Christmas, but he was gone. Nothing was left of him but a half eaten cookie, an empty glass of milk, and the most amazing gift she had ever received.

Adult Donna looked down at her neck, and she found the necklace. She swirled it against her fingers, staring into the abyss of the rock. It seemed almost liquid, the way the millions of colors meshed into one and moved around. It was beautiful.

Donna wiped her eyes, looking around for the Doctor. He stood, dressed in his Father Christmas outfit, by the doors of the TARDIS. She ran to him, accidentally knocking over the ceramic Father Christmas (so that's how it must have broke, she thought) before flinging her arms around him. He did the same, burying his face in her ginger hair that smelled of cinnamon and pine.

"Happy Christmas, Donna," he said softly, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Donna grinned against him, sniffling. "It sure is, Doctor."