A Clear Spring Day in Sommery, Kent, England

with Dr. Martha Jones and The Doctor

“Dr. Jones. Dr. Martha Jones!” The tinny voice calling her name over the intercom increased in frequency and pitched higher and higher.

Yet Martha continued her stroll down the white marbled floors of the Brentwood Suites, a private clinic near the shore.

She no longer ran. Hadn't run in nearly two years.

Running was for those who could afford to miss the beauty in the world around them. She for one had spent too long not noticing the magnificence of the small things.

“Dr. Jones, you’re…”

“Came as quick as I could.” Martha drummed her fingers over the counter which separated Holly Straub from the doctors and the patients.

Holly calmed her voice even though her cheeks burned with a bright pink glow. “Dr. Jones, there is a gentlemen waiting for you in your office. He wouldn't tell me what it was about but he’s from the…the World Health Organization.” Holly whispered the last words as if she was an integral part of the machine to keep the village of Sommery safe from an epidemic.

“Oh, is he? Well, he’s late.” Two years late, Martha thought with a grimace and then walked down the narrow corridor leading to her office.

She had left behind life as a soldier…a life that was infused with adrenaline surges that could kill the average person. However, she still waited for the once a year holiday with him.

When he remembers.

She swung open the door to her office, meaning to begin the argument she had begun rehearsing in her head when he'd missed their date two years ago. “Hello.”

“Where to Dr. Jones?” The Doctor looked up at her, crossing his feet at the ankles on the top of her desk.

As always he was the same – a flop of dark brown hair over his forehead, a set of inquisitive eyes and a smile that hadn’t ceased to warm her heart.

“I haven’t seen you in two years.” Martha crossed her arms under her chest, trying to contain the smile playing across her lips.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right then.”

He was at her side in a flash. She giggled, remembering how he could be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“I’ll pop out for a moment and see you two years ago.”

“No you won’t.” She hugged him tightly, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Dr. Jones. How’s the country life?”

“I love it.” From the lazy Sunday afternoons drinking wine with friends to the solitary walks along the uncrowded beach, she had rediscovered an ignorant bliss she hadn’t known since the day she’d met him.

I love it.

“Do you now?”

“Of course.” She forced the smile to hold. It wasn’t an argument of the country versus the city. Or the beach versus the tube.  No it was Martha who wouldn’t wait versus Martha who would.

“What about you?” She slipped her arm around his waist and walked him out of the office.

“I’m leaving for the rest of the day. I’ll be back in the morning. Right?”

“Right.”  The Doctor chuckled and winked at a blushing Holly.

~~~

Christmas Eve Night – Ashville, Alabama, United States

Martha crunched out of the Tardis onto an inch or two of hard packed snow.  “This is beautiful.” 

From their position, what resembled a postcard lay out before them. Two - story buildings trimmed in white lights surrounded a square patch of grass with a giant Christmas tree in the middle, blinking in multi-colored lights to the tune of Pachelbel's Canon.    

The brilliance of the scene rivaled the starlight of the night sky.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Near Birmingham.”

Martha looked from the east to the west. Nothing resembled the city in which she’d spent most of her holidays with her mother’s family. “This isn’t Birmingham.”

“It’s the one in America.”

“And what are we doing?” She followed his long steps down a hill toward the blinking lights.

“Poking around.”

“I thought this was my holiday?”

“It is. A short stop. I saw something strange.”

He picked up speed and she found herself running to keep up with him. “I don’t do this anymore.”

“I know.” The Doctor slowed down until she was walking beside him.

I don’t do this anymore. Running.

Or waiting, she reminded herself. Still she looped her arm through his, allowing him to lead her into the lights.

Chapter Two

Christmas Eve Night – Ashville, Alabama, United States

with Sam and Dean Winchester

“What are you thinking? Vampire?”

“Looks like it. But…” Sam Winchester back up intending to lean against the cluttered counter and instead pushed scalpels and other metal instruments to the floor. “…damn it!” Sam pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to see if his skin had been broken.

Fortunately, the medical examiner for the city of Ashville had allowed both he and his brother to examine the body of Ernst Hamilton without much questioning and only a promise of locking up without stealing anything. Unfortunately, the older man had done little else like securing blood-letting items behind locked doors.

“Stop whining, Samantha. If this isn’t a vampire and it's just some whack job then we can still make the reindeer dance at Nero’s in Birmingham.”

“Ugh…You can go without me.” Sam drew his hands through his hair and sighed. While he hadn’t entertained thoughts of a festive holiday gathering with family and friends in years, the idea of spending Christmas Eve in a strip club sent a tidal wave of sadness through him.

Adding speed to the sinking sensation, were the unexplained deaths in the senior living community of Stabler Village. Over the last six months, three residents had been found dead in their apartments. There’d been no signs of forced entry into their homes and no signs of the occult. Yet, all three were completely drained of blood and had been suffering from an illness that required narcotics.

Not the likely victims of a vampire. And still here lay Mr. Hamilton.

“Dean, why would a vampire craving life want this guy? He’s over seventy. His chart says he was already dying of liver disease.  Besides, there’s only one visible hole and it’s huge compared to the bites we’ve seen. This looks more like a…a…”

“Go on. What does it look like?”

Sam jerked around toward the door, almost losing his balance and sliding down onto the floor. “Where did you come from?” He blinked hard as the image of a brown haired man wearing a tight blue suit came into focus.

When had he entered the examination room?

Sam looked over at his brother. Dean, too, was shaking his head as if to make sense of the man’s appearance without the sound of the door opening or the click of shoes over the tiled floor.

“What is it then? That’s the question.” The man leaned over the corpse and sniffed down the length of the body.

“Who are you?”` Dean asked as he eased his hand into the interior of his jacket.

“Resident of the Stabler Village?” The man cocked his head in Dean's direction.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who are you?” Dean’s hand slid further into his jacket, no doubt taking the safety off the gun.

“I’m the Doctor. And this is Dr. Martha Jones.” The man waved into the air.

Sam looked around the room. “Do you see someone else?”

“She’ll be along. So what do you make of that? A single entry point the size of straw and a burnt electrical smell. Nasty.” The man peered into the hole in the side of Mr. Hamilton’s neck.

To keep his brother from shooting someone who may be mentally unstable, Sam took the FBI badge from his pocket and raised it in front of him. “Listen, this is an official investigation for the FBI. Do you understand?”

The man stood up, stuffed in hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Is it really?”

“Yes it is. And I'm going to have to ask you to le—“

A woman rushed in, snapping plastic gloves onto her hands. And for once perhaps in a lifetime he and Dean had the same thought at the same time where a woman was concerned. I want her. Now.

“Hey.” His brother managed to vocalize the primal urge.

For him, he only was able to follow her frenzied movements into the room and the quick open and close of her lush lips.

"This is not my holiday, Mister. I'm starving and there's no exchange. I wanted to see the Mona Lisa being painted. Not an obese male on a slab. Gah! I mean really, wh-wh..." She sputtered as if she was going to continue her tirade but no words came out when her gaze drifted up to his. "Um...hello." She giggled. "Tall, aren't you?"    

Sam smiled. He nodded. He swept his hair behind his ear.  He lost all semblance of rational thought.

No longer a hunter, he spoke into the most exquisite pair of hazelnut colored eyes he’d ever seen. “Hi, I’m Sam Winchester.”

 “Martha Jones,” she replied.

Sam noted each minute movement of her fingers through her hair to tuck errant strands of brown hair behind the perfect arc of her ear.

I want her now.

“Yes, yes, yes. Now that we know each other. Martha, take a look.”

She turned around, tearing her gaze from his, and studied the corpse’s neck.

“What are you doing?” Dean jerked him against the counter.

“What?”

“You just said your real name.”

“Sorry, I didn’t notice.” Sam looked at Martha.

“Maybe they didn’t either.” Dean eyed Martha as well. “Think she’d like to have a drink?”

“Hey.” Why would anyone dare to wear the Capri pants and loose knit sweater in the icy bluster that whistled through the trees outside? Maybe she was as unbalanced as the man next to her, but the look of her warm eyes made it hard to care. “I think she and I had a moment back there.”

“I don’t think so, Sammy.”

Dean walked over and slid his hand down her back.

She shrugged it off.  “And who are you?”

“Nevermind, Martha, they’re hunters. I’ll explain later. Now what about dear old Mr. Hamilton?”

“Alright, Doctor. The deceased is completely, drained of blood. Intrusion in the…”

“You know who we are?” For the second time in the last few minutes, Sam blinked rapidly.

“Hunters? Men who have knowledge they don’t understand nor do they care to comprehend.”

Then it happened in a flash of light and scuffling sounds.

“Who the…” Dean pushed The Doctor against the far wall with a forearm against the man’s windpipe.

Just as quickly Martha flipped Dean onto his back and held a scalpel to his neck. “He’s only here to help--"

And then by instinct, Sam’s blade had been drawn and he looked down into the beautiful woman’s eyes. “I can’t let you hurt him.”

Her stare hardened into pits covered in sludge and moss. "Neither can I."

He wanted to explaiin, but another voice intercepted his.

“Come, Martha.” The man gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead.

Sam holstered the blade and then pulled Dean up from the floor.

For a moment he watched, listening to the soft murmurings of the man until Martha looked over at him with a small smile. “Sorry, really, I wouldn’t have hurt him. The Doctor is sorry as well for being rude. But this is something we’ll handle. So enjoy your holiday and don’t worry.”

“It’s our job to worry.” Dean wrenched his neck to the side. “What the hell happened to this guy?”

“A plasmavore,” Martha answered. “And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what what that is.”

“Try us.” Sam believed in many things – the monster under the bed, the witch at the end of the lane, and creatures lurking in the dark. It was nothing to add another thing to his list and he’d get to spend a few more minutes with Dr. Jones. Martha.

~~~

An hour later, Dean tossed cash onto their table in Rudy’s Lounge. “Merry fucking Christmas,” he said just as the band announced their last song of the evening.

“This one is for the little lady from England. Nice to meet you, Martha.” The singer winked in her direction.

Martha laughed.

For more than once that night, a few patrons had glanced over at their table. Not that there was much else to garner attention in Rudy’s. The bar consisted of a large, brown paneled space where a bar took up the majority of the room, round tables surrounded by circular green leather booths lined the walls and a stage with an empty space for dancing filled out the center.

No one danced. Everyone hunkered down over a drink of some kind. Except when Martha laughed and then heads turned. He wondered if was because the sound was so beautiful or if it was because she was the only person with even a hint of brown in her skin in the bar?

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe us.” Martha turned to face the stage, seeming not to care whether he or Dean believed her story of alien races or not. “But thanks for the catfish nuggets. I don’t think I can get those back home.”

“And may I use this for a few more moments.” The Doctor tapped on the screen to the tablet.

“Sure, Doctor.” Dean jerked his head to the side, but Sam pretended not to notice.

The woman next to him had been a time traveler and a soldier, a hunter of things he hadn’t thought possible until tonight. While Dean dismissed their tales as something worthy of a psychiatric ward, he saw the weight of the sadness behind her eyes. She’d seen things. Terrible things. Just as he had. And somehow she’d managed the smile which dimpled her cheeks and sparkled up to her eyes.

“Would you like to dance? Since this is the last one?” Sam slid out of the booth and extended his hand.

“I’d love too.”

Martha followed him out to floor and fell into his arms.

The singer crooned, “Bells will be ringing the sad, sad news

Oh what a Christmas to have the blues

My baby's gone, I have no friends

To wish me greetings once again

He moved his body against hers, the two of them understanding the lyrics and the melody. That hopeless hope that next year would be different.

“Is this how you always spend Christmas Eve…hunting something?”

“Most of them. What about you?”

“To be fair, it was in the middle of summer when I left home this morning. But no, I don’t do this anymore. It put my family in danger too many times. Ruined every relationship I attempted including my marriage.”

“I understand that.”

“Of course I did meet Shakespeare.”

“The William Shakespeare.”

“He was quite taken with me. Tried to kiss me…but his breath was awful.”

“Be right back.” Sam slipped out of her arms, but she caught his wrist before he could take a step.

“Where are you going?”

“To get gum.”

“Are you coming on to me?”

“I’m trying.”

“It’s working.” She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. The kiss was a slow, gentle exploration of one’s lips over the others.

But it singed.

Wave after wave of the carnal burn surged through him and Sam no longer cared where they were. He lifted Martha against him, and everything stopped except for the last strands of the singer’s voice as Martha’s tongue sweep over and under his.

Send salutations

Sure as the stars shine above

But this is Christmas

Yeah, it's Christmas my dear

It's the time of year to be with the one you love

Just as quickly, the world came back into focus.

“Ahh, Sammy, he’s found this thing.” Dean’s voice sounded far away, but Sam was sure that his brother was standing right next to him.

“This is where we say good-bye,” The Doctor said.

For some reason, he sounded much closer.

With a groan, Sam released Martha so that her feet touched down on the floor.

Martha’s gaze held his as her fingers lingered over lips. “Good-bye Sam.”

He didn’t think he said anything as he watched her turn and walk past the booths and out of the front door. The sinking in the pit of his stomach had returned with so much force that wanted to gasp for breath.

“Come on, only a few more hours until reindeer show.” Dean tried for a laugh, but even it sounded hollow. “Sam, what the hell was going to happen anyway? It’s better not to…”

He was listening, trying to make himself understand his life as a hunter and what it meant when the front door of Rudy’s slammed open. Once again, Martha entered in a frenzy this time pulling leather gloves onto her hands instead of plastic ones.

Ooo, there’ll be no more sorrow

No grief and pain

And I'll be happy, Christmas, once again

“Was I gone long? No matter. Sam, would you like to see a plasmavore?”

“Yeah.” He returned Martha’s bright smile.

“Sam…we’re not going…Sam…”

Dean’s voice didn’t cause a hitch in his steps. However, the curious stare of The Doctor did when Sam slipped his hand into Martha’s.

What exactly was a companion? The thought crossed his mind briefly before the warmth from her hand ignited that slow burn.

Chapter Three

The Tardis with Martha Jones, The Boys, and The Doctor

After a few miles of walking, they came upon a blue police box like the ones in old movies.

“What the hell is this?”

“Just wait, Dean.” Sam tried to keep his mind open and not fall victim to his confusion.

“Hello, darling.” The Doctor patted the wooden boards, opened the doors and then disappeared inside.

“Go on then.” Martha gave Dean a small nudge.

“We can’t fit.”

“Believe me you can.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” Dean walked in and walked immediately back out. His face was ashen and he was shaking. “S-s-sammy.”

“What is it?”

“Sam.” Dean pointed inside.

“It’s okay, really. We all have the same reaction.” Martha stroked down Dean’s arm as she gave him an amused look. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

Sam drew his lips against his teeth and forged through the door. Oh…holy…mother…His mind lost the ability to understand or formulate language. What he saw didn’t make sense. There was room for four, for fourteen for fourteen hundred.

It’s bigger on the inside. Sam turned to watch Dean stagger back in and drop onto the floor.

 “You’ll get used to it.” Martha eased up next to him and slid her hand down his shoulder. “It’s quite alright.”

Sam nodded, risking only the slight movement of his head.

“You really travel across space and time.” Dean said from his spot on the floor.

“Yes. And if Dr. Jones’s friends can pick up a passenger, then the two of us can get on with our holiday.” The Doctor walked behind a curving of steaming tubes with that curious glint in his eyes.

Had The Doctor noticed that Sam’s shock was fading under the gentle glide of Martha’s fingers down his arm?

“Sammy, this isn’t possible.” Dean croaked.

“I know.” But he and his brother weren’t talking about the same thing. I can accept aliens, time travel, even this box but…

“Trickster?”

“I don’t think so.” He looked down into Martha’s gaze and something sliced into his insides, not painful but nonetheless he felt the burn of it. For the first time in many years, he prayed. Prayed to the missing deity in the garden that this was real. “I hope not,” he said more to her than anyone else.

She dropped her hand from his body and he saw a crimson flush burst in her cheeks.

“This is a slag.” The Doctor reappeared and threw what looked like a lifeless motorcycle rider complete with black helmet onto the floor. The strange little man explained the premise of the body and the reanimation of the being. The Doctor continued on to say that he was going to trick the body into finding the plasmavore so that Martha’s former team could apprehend the thing.

Sam didn’t care. For him, there were only the soft brown eyes and curvy lips of Dr. Martha Jones of Sommery England.

 “Would you like a tour?” Martha asked.

“Sure. Dean, are you alright?” Sam glanced over at his brother who had finally moved to a stool near what looked like the control system.

“I’m not moving from here.”

~~~

The curving walls, winding corridors and endless staircases seemed completely normal to her so when she opened the door to her room and noticed the flush in Sam’s face, she couldn’t stifle her giggle. “Sorry.” She led him over to her bed and helped him sit down. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like the first time being in here.”

Sam gulped in air and finally shut his eyes, pointing out to her open window. “Could you close that?”

Martha moved quickly to close the blinds. One of the things she loved most about the room which had been hers was that she could watch the sun set on Notornia.

The view always reminded of her The Doctor, but now she thought of it with Sam in mind. A giant of a man who’d slain demons shivered at the sight of the deep blue oceans swirling upward into a rose colored sky.

Martha curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s so normal to me.”

“I’m usually the one saying something like that. I’ve seen things that would scramble the mind.”

“Luckily, you won’t be saying that to me.” She intertwined her fingers through his and then kissed each of his knuckles. “I’ve actually stopped the human race from enslavement.”

“Well, I stopped the Judeo-Christian apocalypse.”

Sam lifted her chin up so that her lips were close enough to his mouth to feel the rush of his breath.

"So…” Any other words burned into nothingness under his fiery gaze.

“So, Martha.”

Sam leaned in a little closer and kissed her. Like it had been inside the pub, the kiss was sweet at first. Then he pulled her into his arms and flames licked over her skin as if the bed was ablaze.

From that moment on, she couldn’t control her hands. She caressed his big, hard frame from his chest to his arms to his tight bum.

His breath grew quick and hot in her ear as he slipped his large hands beneath the loose sweater. Within seconds, he’d unhooked her bra, shoved the knitted material up to her neck and sprinked hot kisses over her bare breasts. She hadn't heard that groan of delight from her own mouth in years. Not like this. A want that only one man could satisfy – Sam Winchester.

“Take your pants off,” he demanded.

Martha responded to the commanding tone by quickly wriggling out of her pants and the panties which were wet from the wanting. Her entire body ached, the need to have him was so urgent. She guided his fingers inside her moisture and he too groaned.

He stroked her steadily, even though he panted and his thick member throbbed against her thighs. “Ooo,” Martha moaned as the wave of pleasure surged, spilling out over his fingers. “Ooo, ooo.” She shivered as he sat up with his legs on either side of hers and moved her trembling hands to the front of his pants. “Oh, God.” Another wave, but she steadied her fingers enough to unzip his jeans and help to yank his pants down just enough.

“Are you okay with this?”

She nodded, forcing her shoulders back onto the bed and spreading her legs.

Sam lowered himself on top of her and then entered her, slowly.

Slowly, her body loosened becoming accustomed to his size then he plunged into her.  His strokes were fast and hard, relentless. Gasping, Martha leaned her head back, overcome with the sudden intensity of the wave of pleasure surging through her. She cried out his name, and he responded by driving into her faster and harder.

Then he growled, his body jerking over hers until he eased over to his side. Martha rolled close to him, listening to the sounds of their ragged breaths slow down to normal.

~~~

Sam cuddled Martha in his arms. After a few hours he was finally able to look out of the opened window of her room. The sky had darkened to crimson and the blue water roiled and roiled over an edge that was millions of miles away. “That’s amazing.”

“So are you, Sam. I don’t think I’ll ever watch that night sky again without thinking about you.”

He wanted to be happy about that. He even paused for a second to see if happiness would flood through him like a normal guy. It didn’t.

“We should get back. The Doctor is probably looking for you by now.”

 “He doesn’t notice me at all.”

“But you notice him.”

“I do.” She pecked his lips. “That doesn’t mean that I’ve lied. Each time I look out onto a crimson sky, I’ll think about you and the best Christmas Eve of my life.”

He smiled and breathed in the sweet breath of her kiss.

Chapter Four

The  Tardis & Lawrence, Kansas, Christmas Eve 1978

Freshly showered and changed into something more appropriate for the weather, Martha led Sam back into the control room of the Tardis. Like she’d expected The Doctor hadn’t realized that she had been gone for nearly four hours.

“Where were you? It’s almost over.” The doctor looked up at her quickly and then just as quickly darted his eyes back to the monitor in front of he and Dean. “Your friends are on the way. Have you thought about where we’re going?”

Here. Right now, she wanted to say, but another place had taken presidence in her mind. Regardless of the giddiness she felt while Sam held her body against his, there was some other place. Some other time that would make a better gift.

While she’d hated performing in front of her family during the Jones’ Holiday Dinner, at least she had a memory.

“Is that it?” The sound of Dean’s voice drew her out of her thoughts and she focused on the monitor.

A man who appeared to be in his late eighties struggled between two guards who restrained him on a balcony. A myriad of bright lights appeared above what had to be The Stabler Village and in a flash the three were gone.

“It’s over?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Nothing dies. No one notices. Merry Christmas, hunters. Off you go.”

“Good, I got a couple of bottles waiting in the hotel room to make this whole night disappear.”

“Wait!” Martha tugged Sam close to her. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“What you saying? This is our holiday.” The Doctor’s voice pitched higher.

“Since when? It’s mine.” She released Sam and then ran around to whisper her destination to The Doctor.

After a moment and a glance that stabbed at her heart, he finally smiled. “Hang on gentlemen.”

“What…wait…,” Dean’s voice blended into the whooshing sound as both he and Sam were knocked to the floor.

~~~

“Okay, boys, follow my lead. Don’t say anything stupid.”

Sam stepped out of the box into a light dusting of snow. Christmas lights twinkled in bushes lining the sidewalk n front of two-story homes.

Had Dean realized where they were?

This was home. The one in Kansas.

And it was more beautiful than he had ever remembered. Multi-colored lights blinked along the rooftop, a cut out of Santa and his sleigh set on the front lawn and a lighted snowman rested by the front door.

“I remember.” Dean’s voice cracked in the harsh wind.

“I don’t remember ever doing this.”

“Now you will.” Martha grabbed his hand and then rang the front door of John and Mary Winchester’s home.

Mary answered, her honey blond hair pulled up to the top of head in a loose pony tail and her belly protruding in front her as if it was about to burst. “Can I help you?”

Mom, he thought.

“Our car stopped a few miles back. May we use your phone?”

“I doubt you’re going to get anyone for a tow today.”

“Not a tow. I’m meeting his family. They’ll be round soon. Right, darling?”

Sam nodded.

“And I do need to use the loo.”

“Bathroom. She means bathroom.” Sam corrected and watched a knowing smile grow on his mother’s face.

“Sure. Sure.” Mary moved to the side. “John, we’ve got company.”

It was that easy.

When Mary was in her final month of pregnancy with Dean, she and his dad were normal. They’d cooked too much for a dinner they were unable to attend and offered a meal of turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole and homemade pumpkin pie to four strangers without a second thought.

When the meal was finished Sam helped John load dishes into the dishwasher while Dean sat next to their mother in the living room.

“Could I get you a beer?” John asked.

“I’d like that.”

Sam sipped from his bottle, comfortable in the silence that had always surrounded both he and his father. He looked into the living room only at the sound of Martha’s laugh.

“Pretty girl.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Won’t be easy. The two of you. Don’t fool yourself about that.”

“It’s different now,” Sam chuckled.

“I’m not talking about the obvious, son. What other people think fades away.” John plunked his bottle down onto the counter. “I’m talking about the way she looks at him. You seem like a sweet kid and --”

“I don’t deserve the way she looks at him. I’m not that sweet of a kid.”  Sam chugged down the beer in a few draughts.

“There’s redemption for us all, son.  I got to believe that.” John slapped his arm and led him back into the living room.

~~~

After a few hours, Dean hugged a sleepy Mary at the front door of the Winchester home and shook John’s hand. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” he echoed his brother’s sentiment and followed Martha and The Doctor down the sidewalk.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean closed and opened his eyes. “Yeah, they were okay for a while. They were okay.” Dean hugged him briefly and then walked into the blue box.

Sam was left with the curious gaze of The Doctor.

“What is your problem with me?”

“I’ve said good-bye to her over and over again and each strand of time brings something new. So, hello Sam Winchester. I’m the Doctor. And I notice her as well.” The man walked into the blue box and he was alone with the stars.

And then her bright smile lit up the night. “Are you coming in?”

“When I call you tomorrow, when will it be?”

“I don’t know. It may be six months from the summer in which I left in either direction or years could have passed. But here’s my card if you want to ring me up. I’d like it if you did.” She pecked his lips and disappeared inside.

~~~

Christmas Day, Ashville, Alabama – Sand Train Hotel

Sam rolled over on his side as the phone dinged 7:00 am in the morning. He pulled the card out of his jeans and typed the number into his phone. It took

“Ullo?” Came a cheery reply.

“Martha, it's Sam. What day is it?”

“Christmas.”

“And you remember me?”

“The best Christmas Eve ever.”

“And how long has it been?”

“Almost two years, Mr. Winchester. But I waited. You were worth it.”

“So are you.”

Happy Holidays SuperWhovians!