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And on top of that he had the post to sort. Quite what had possessed him to hire that ridiculous secretary he didn’t know, she lumbered about the place never getting anything completely correct, there was always something a little bit wrong with everything she did. For example the post was never quite sorted correctly to go to the right people, the other day a confidential letter went to Mr Jenkins instead of Mr Hall, the consequences could have been disastrous had he not stepped in and resorted it. He had therefore taken it upon himself to sort the post each day. Not that there was much of it around the Christmas time, but it was just another bind on his time. Indeed he had so little time left during the day he sometimes didn’t actually get the chance to open the post he’d sorted for himself until he left the office.
Today was one of those days: right now there were three brown envelopes, two white ones and a small parcel that had been waiting all day. This had originally captured his attention, but he’d been distracted by a spillage of coffee from that stupid secretary and had forgotten about it. But now everyone else had gone home, not to return for four days until his or her Christmases were over, he had a moment to think.
J.J.Roberts lent over, took the package in his hand and weighed it. About the weight of a packet of biscuits he decided, wrapped neatly in brown paper. Carefully he unfolded it – it could be useful to reuse the paper to wrap up his wife’s present, a necklace he’d seen in a shop window the day before. But the contents made him stop and take in breath. For the first time Joseph Jacques Roberts felt real shock, a deep penetrating shock that wipes your mind of all current thoughts. Then he began to cry as realisation passed over him, the realisation of all those years wasted. Memories flooded back and he immediately wanted to return to his family.
Thirty minutes later the Roberts family were surprised by the early return of Joseph, but even more so by his announcement that he would be taking three weeks holiday to spend with them and he’d just dipped into his savings to buy the perfect turkey and presents from Harrods.
Because Joseph Roberts had seen something he never thought he would again – a small battered teddy bear, his childhood teddy bear, locking away a thousand happy memories of life before work.
The origin of the parcel had never crossed Robert’s mind…
--
Meanwhile, sailing through the Time Vortex, The Doctor and his travelling companion Peter were also getting ready for Christmas.
“I still don’t get how you think we can celebrate something on an annual basis when we travel outside time!” Peter said aloud suddenly, breaking the silence that he rained with the exception of the quiet ‘jingle bells’ The Doctor had set the TARDIS to play.
“I’m a Timelord – it’s inbuilt,” answered the Doctor. “I know how time passes with me, so I know when a year’s gone by. Now stop moaning and grab the other end of this tinsel.”
It had taken Peter three hours to find the Christmas decorations within the TARDIS, “turn right, then left, then straight on past the moose until you reach the fifth door on the right again,” the Doctor had said. Peter still didn’t know if he had been joking about the Moose.
It had all started when Peter mentioned that he’d love to celebrate Christmas. The Doctor had jumped to action and gone into one of his ‘manic moods’ as Peter called them. Now they were decorating the whole console room and the Doctor was muttering something about the best Christmas dinner of all time.
“Just one more thing we need now!” exclaimed the Doctor as he tapped away at one of the TARDIS keypads. Suddenly snow started to fall, covering the floor and lightly lining the decorations and coral features of the TARDIS perfectly.
“Is there anything this ship can’t do?!” Asked Peter.
“It’s the greatest ship in the world. And the greatest pilot of course.” The Doctor reminded him.
Suddenly he spun round as if he’d received an electric shock. “What is it old girl?” he cooed at the TARDIS screen, watching every flickering part of the readout screen. “Slight detour,” he announced, “some idiots mucking about with the timelines of… Guess where…”
“Earth,” hesitated Peter, hoping he might be wrong. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his home planet, but it wasn’t exactly the most exciting place to keep going back to.
“Bang on!” Agreed the Doctor. “Hold on tight,” he said as the TARDIS began its bumpy materialisation. “Next stop, the North Pole!”
--
“Brrrr… It really is as cold as they say isn’t it?!” Peter exclaimed as he and The Doctor walked out of the TARDIS and into the embracing coldness. No, Peter thought, coldness didn’t do it justice. And neither did the word ‘freezing’, ‘bitter’ or ‘icy’. It was all of those things, and a whole lot more.
“I thought I had quite a good landing there, I expect we’re pretty close.” Said the Doctor.
“Close to what though?!” Remarked Peter.
“Whoever it is mucking about with the timelines.” Retorted the Doctor. “Honestly, do pay attention!”
“What are we looking for; a big cuddly grotto, big pole and a fat man with an unhealthy obsession for reindeer and mince pies?” asked Peter.
“No – I think we’re probably looking for that.” Said the Doctor. Now visible through the snow flying around them was a large white spacecraft. It camouflaged so well it was little wonder they hadn’t seen it earlier. It was as tall as a skyscraper and perfectly spherical, with thin legs protruding from the sides to hold it in place. It reminded Peter of a miniature Death Star, only more snowy.
“Shall we see if anyone’s in?” asked the Doctor, starting to run towards the ship before Peter had time to respond.
By the time Peter caught up with him the Doctor was taping around one of the legs of the ship. “There’s got to be a door release here somewhere…” he murmured. Sure enough, a moment later, he hit a certain spot and one part of it opened up to reveal a circular lift. “Don’t you just love travelling with a genius?” The Doctor remarked, a little too smugly for Peter’s liking.
One stuffy lift journey later the doors opened and the Doctor and Peter stepped out into what can only be described as Father Christmas’s workshop. It seemed to be a huge circular room, presumably running along the circumference of the shape of the ship outside. There were reams and reams of computers and control terminals, manned by elves. Or, at least, that’s what Peter thought they were at first. Upon closer inspection they were small green aliens, with pointy ears. Peter could imagine what would happen if the tabloids got hold of this – stereotypical little green men visiting Earth.
The Doctor and Peter’s entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed, almost every elf alien was looking at them. “Hello, I’m the Doctor.” The Doctor announced, “Now, which silly little elf has been mucking about with the time stream?” To his amazement they all raised their hands guiltily, as if ashamed of being naughty.
“Oh… OK.” Responded the Doctor, a little taken aback by the apparent power his words had. “Anyone care to explain why?!”
“Me! Me!” Exclaimed one little elf alien, he seemed a bit bigger than the others and Peter assumed he was probably a leader of some sort.
“We the Ornogs. We happy. We bring you happy.”
“Aw, isn’t that nice? Isn’t that nice, Peter?!” The Doctor responded, half joking and half delighted. “Bit of a snag though, can’t have you messing about with the nice old timelines!”
“We make machines. We go to planet. We find people who no happy and make them happy. We go to past and get something happy of theirs. We send to them now. They happy!”
“You mean,” Peter asked, “You go back in time and get things like… like old toys, and give them to people now to make them ‘happy’?” That’s so cool.
“But it can’t continue.” Announced the Doctor. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do this. You’re ripping the vortex of time apart and it cannot continue.”
“We sorry. We no want to make you upset Mr. Time. We promise stop, do something new.” Said the leader.
“Good man!” Said the Doctor. “So, we’ll be leaving you now ok?”
“No!” Shouted out the leader. “You no happy. Me sense great sadness. Me help.” Suddenly the machine beside him started whirring.
“No, no, you shouldn’t!” Said the Doctor.
“Too late!” Said the leader as a brown packaged appeared on a tray in the machine. “Here, you take. And you… You already happy,” he said to Peter, “But we make you more happy.” The machine whirred and another parcel appeared. Sure enough he passed this one to Peter.
“Thank you!” Peter said, he felt ten years old already, he couldn’t wait to open it.
“Thank you. Promise no more time messing?” Said the Doctor.
“We promise.” The Ornogs responded in unison.
--
One trek back across the snow, not so bad now Peter knew he was heading back to the TARDIS, and the two travellers were thawing out in the heat of the console room, still covered in the Christmas decorations.
“So, these presents!” Said Peter, unable to hold in his excitement any longer.
He tore his open and found, to his amazement, a little train.
“Oh, Doctor, it’s terry!” He said. “Terry the train, I had him as a little boy but he was lost when we moved house. I was nine at the time, and it was so upsetting! What’s yours?”
The Doctor said nothing but slowly unwrapped his present. Within it he found a small rock. It was a blood reddy-orangy colour Peter though, and it seemed powerful somehow.
“What is it Doctor?” asked Peter.
“A rock of Gallifrey.” Replied the Doctor as, for the first time, Peter saw a tear escape him. Peter thought it best to go and explore more of the TARDIS, leave the Doctor alone for a bit with his memories. But as he walked out he couldn’t help turning back and saying in a quiet voice “Merry Christmas Doctor.”
Well written Seb and excellently accompanied by the pictures!
little..green..men
