Title: The Genuine Article
Author: _thirty2flavors
Characters/Pairings: Ten2/Rose
Rating: PG
Length: ~2,500
Genre: Some fluff, some angst. A fair amount of Christmas, actually.
Summary: While shopping for Christmas presents, the Doctor finds that Rose doesn’t share his enthusiasm for a particular item.
Excerpt: This new coat wasn’t exactly the same as the old one had been -- it was a much darker brown than the old one had been, it was a several inches shorter, it was missing a pocket and the material wasn’t as soft. But it was close -- the closest he’d seen in this universe, and he’d been looking.
Author’s notes: Written for firstofoct’s (popular) prompt over at the the Doctor/Rose Fix Holiday Fixathon: Something about The Coat. Also thanks to goldy_dollar, whom I strong-armed into reading Doctor Who fic by making her beta something for me. Hurray!

---

They were in the midst of Christmas shopping, their arms laden with packages, when the Doctor spied it through a store window.

“...Mum’s even harder to buy for now, I swear, and—”

“Hold these,” said the Doctor, pushing his parcels into her arms and veering off.

He could just hear Rose’s perplexed “Doctor?” before the bustle of the shoppers and the Christmas album playing over the speakers drowned her out. He weaved through the aisles, around busy shoppers and and past people with prams, and then plucked the coveted item off the rack, grinning broadly.

It was a coat.

After being dropped unceremoniously into a new universe with nothing — literally — but the clothes on his back, the Doctor had found his wardrobe desperately in need of replenishing. After five days of switching only the shirt and tie he wore with his blue suit, Jackie had dragged him out the door of the Tyler mansion with strict instruction that they were not returning until he had something else to wear. Now he could boast of a collection of suits that, in variety at least, far outstripped the couple he'd had on the TARDIS. He even had a new pair of glasses.

But he didn't have a coat. It wasn't for lack of trying; he wanted a coat to complete the look, and maybe a little out of necessity. (Human-Time Lord metacrises, it seemed, weren't quite as versatile as proper Time Lords.) None he'd found had seemed like suitable replacements, and so the Doctor had held out.

Until now.

“Rose!” he called, hastily tugging on one sleeve and then the other. “Rose! Come look!”

With an exhausted grumble and several “sorry, excuse me”s, Rose trudged towards him, her arms laden with bags. “I can’t carry all this on my own, I...” She trailed off, the irritated edge to her voice fading as she got a good look at his beaming grin and brand new outerwear. A wrinkle appeared on her forehead. “Is that...?”

“A coat!” the Doctor announced proudly. He extended his arms in an enthusiastic gesture, then retracting them immediately when his right hand hit the back of a passer-by’s head. “Er, sorry.” He tugged on the lapels of the coat and turned back to Rose. “What d’you think? No — hang on...”

He sprung towards the nearest mirror before she could answer, eager to inspect his reflection. This new coat wasn’t exactly the same as the old one had been — it was a much darker brown than the old one had been, it was a several inches shorter, it was missing a pocket and the material wasn’t as soft. But it was close — the closest he’d seen in this universe, and he’d been looking.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled at his reflection just as Rose appeared behind him in the mirror. He grinned at her image, but Rose's eyes were trained on his coat, a small frown tugging at the corner of her lips. In the mirror, the Doctor saw his own grin fade.

"You don't like it," he said quietly.

Immediately, a fake, conciliatory smile appeared on Rose's face, and she shrugged one shoulder. "It's not bad, it's just... it's..." He watched her fish for an explanation. "Different."

"I know.” He took his hands from his pockets and fiddled with the cuffs of the coat.

"I just think it looks like..." She paused again, searching for the right word. "Like a cheap imitation. Not the genuine article, you know?"

The Doctor stared at his reflection, with his new suit and new tie and new coat.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, "you're right." He turned away from the mirror, shrugging the coat off his shoulders.

---

During the taxi ride home, a mountain of purchases separated them in the back seat.

"It's ridiculous," Rose was saying. "Mum goes overboard every year now and I feel like I have to compensate. Tony's got enough toys to open his own shop. I mean, I know it's nice for her now — I know the holidays used to be stressful because of money, and..."

The Doctor stared down at his trainers while she talked, wiggling his toes. Bright red converse, they were the only thing he was wearing that he'd ever worn on the TARDIS. Those trainers had been all sorts of places — the top of the Empire State Building during the Great Depression, the icy ground of the Ood Sphere, the corridors of Messaline. It was strange to think about. Those trainers had been more places than he had, really, if he were to get technical. They were, as Rose had put it, the "genuine article".

The rest of him, on the other hand...

"Are you even listening to me?" came Rose's voice, cutting through his meandering thoughts with a sharp edge.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He looked over the pile of shopping bags to catch Rose's eye. "You were saying something about Tony?"

"Never mind," she said, in a tone that suggested she'd been done talking about Tony for some time now. She stared out the window for a moment, then frowned and looked at him. "Are you cross because I didn't like that coat?"

The Doctor stared out the window of the taxi, watching the city roll by. "Of course not. That would be ridiculous."

"Yes, it would be," agreed Rose.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

---

It wasn't until they were in bed that night that either of them brought it up again. The Doctor laid on his back, lost in thought and staring at the ceiling, until Rose sidled up next to him under the covers and said, "You're sure you're not cross with me?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and turned his head to look at her through the dim light of their bedroom. "It's just a coat, Rose."

"Yeah, but you've been all... weird all night." She poked him in the ribs beneath the blanket and he squirmed. "I gave you loads of opportunity to make fun of Mum and you barely took any of them."

"That's because I am a good person—" She tickled his side a bit more and the Doctor reached down to grab her hands. "—and you are a terrible daughter."

Rose laughed. "Rubbish, you're the rudest person I know." But she was smiling, her tongue peeking out between her teeth, and the Doctor couldn't help but smile back. Then she said, "We'll get you a coat, Doctor. Just... not that one."

The Doctor's stomach flopped, but he kept his smile in place. "Well, I wouldn't wanna look like a cheap imitation."

"Exactly." She pressed a kiss to his lips and rolled onto her side. "'Night, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Rose." And then, "Love you."

"Mmm," came her sleepy response. "You too."

---

"That's terrible," said Rose, barely suppressing a laugh.

"It is not!" said the Doctor indignantly.

"Yes it is," she insisted. This time she did laugh as she poked the misshapen lump of wrapping paper and sellotape that was the Doctor's gift to Tony. It sat on their kitchen table next to the rest of the gifts Rose had asked him to wrap while she was at work. All were equally deformed.

"The point of wrapping the gift is to prolong the surprise by concealing what it is." The Doctor held his chin a bit higher, as if daring her to argue. "So I'd say I excelled."

"It's supposed to make them look pretty." She rolled the vaguely spherical gift towards the rest. "Y'know, all stacked nicely beneath the Christmas tree. This looks like Father Christmas had a bit too much sherry."

"Oi! I happen to think the gifts look very pretty, thank you." He sniffed. "And anyway, it's what's on the inside that counts."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Speaking of packaging, you've been wearing that blue suit a lot lately."

He shifted uncomfortably at that, reaching up to adjust his jacket. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Just seems like it's getting a lot of use, these past couple of weeks, that's all."

The Doctor shrugged. "Well, I've missed the pockets," he said, rather unconvincingly.

"Yeah? Good, you can carry all those gifts to Mum's tomorrow night." She raised her eyebrows, leaning over the table to give him a teasing look. "Too bad that suit's not bright red." She tilted her head in mock concentration. "You're a bit scrawny for the part, though."

"Oi!" The Doctor waved his finger in her face in offence. "I'm not scrawny, I'm... trim. And I'll replace all your presents with coal."

"Well, now I'm scared." She moved around the table and settled herself into his lap while the Doctor made a tiny squeak. "So, what d'you think? Do you reckon aliens will leave the planet alone for two whole days while we do Christmas with my family?"

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her waist and frowned. "Honestly, with my track record, it's not looking good."

Rose nodded grimly. "We'll just have to get rid of you, then." She fixed the collar of his shirt for a minute, then looped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. When she pulled away, she wriggled out of his grip, hopped off his lap and smiled. "Wouldn't want our first Christmas together overshadowed by an alien invasion."

She was smiling, but the Doctor wasn't. "Second," he said softly.

"Sorry?"

"Second," he said again, not quite meeting her eyes as he said it. "It's our second Christmas together. Sycorax? Pilot fish? Remember?"

Rose blinked, taken aback. "'Course I remember, I only meant... you know, our first." She waved one finger between the two of them. "Me and you."

The Doctor nodded, though she noticed it still took a second for him to meet her eyes. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

"Now shoo," said Rose, gesturing down towards the hall and to their bedroom. "I've still got to wrap your gifts. No peeking."

The Doctor rose to his feet and winked before he headed down the hall. "Yes, ma'am."

---

Christmas with the Tylers was both more and less hectic than the Doctor remembered it being.

It was less hectic, because — as of just after nine on Christmas morning, anyway — there was no spaceship looming over London, threatening a third of the population with blood control. It was more hectic, because now there was a small child who'd woken up at half six in the morning in anticipation of presents. Now gifts had been unwrapped, and paper and ribbon had been strewn about the house like last-minute decor. Tony and his father had taken off to set up Tony's new toy car play set, Jackie had gone off to start breakfast, and the Doctor and Rose found themselves alone in the wreckage.

"Well," said the Doctor, leaning back on the sofa and surveying the room with satisfaction, "I think that went well."

"Mmhm." Rose leaned her head against his shoulder. "You passed that bit of domesticity with flying colours, but the next test is harder."

"What's that?"

"Helping my mum cook breakfast."

The Doctor groaned, and Rose laughed, extracting herself from his side and turning to face him. "First, though, I've got one more thing to give you, but I wanted to wait until we were alone."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose up, and he cast a wary glance towards the hallway that lead to the kitchen. "We're not really alone—"

Rose smacked his arm. "It's not a shag!" Turning around, she got up on her knees on the sofa and bent over the back of it. She re-emerged holding a large rectangular package wrapped in shiny, dark blue paper, which she promptly dropped in his lap.

He looked down at it in surprise, flipping over the little tag that read For the Doctor, Love Rose. The box itself was light, for its size. He looked at Rose and frowned. "I haven't got anything else to give you."

She waved one hand, watching him expectantly. "I know, that's fine. Go on, open it!"

With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, the Doctor tore the paper off the box and flipped open the lid, then felt his mouth drop open.

It was a coat.

No, it was the coat. His coat, not the one from the store with the missing pocket and the too-dark material, but his, suede-soft and wonderfully familiar.

The box fell to the ground as the Doctor leapt to his feet to try the coat on.

"I had it made," said Rose. "Took a few weeks just to find the right material. Pockets are the normal size, sorry, turns out I don’t know any alien tailors. It's all by memory, so I'm not sure I got it quite right — the buttons, I think, I couldn't remember if—"

"It's perfect," he interrupted, smoothing down the front and staring down at it as best he could. She was right — this new coat, it had two buttons more than the other one had, but what did it matter? "Rose, it's — it's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." He spun on the carpet, cooing appreciatively as the coat swished around his ankles.

"That's why I was so rude about the other one," she went on, "I'd already had this made and I didn't want you to end up with two, and I thought — well, I hoped you'd like this one, and—"

"Like it?" He stopped spinning in order to send her an incredulous stare as he reached down to take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Rose Tyler, I love it."

“Good.” Rose squeezed his hands, wearing a grin to match his, now. “I've missed this coat on you."

"Me too." He looked down at their linked hands and swallowed. "I thought maybe..." He took a deep breath. "I was worried that maybe you didn't like seeing me in that coat because I'm not exactly the genuine article myself."

Rose gave his hands a tug, and when he looked up to meet her eyes he saw her expression was somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "That's completely daft," she said.

"Well..."

"You are absolutely the genuine article, Doctor," she went on, firm enough that he found himself believing she meant it. "That's why I didn't like seeing you in that rubbish coat from the shop. Okay?"

The Doctor couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Okay," he said, and then, "I love you."

Smiling smugly in return, Rose only said, "Quite right, too." Her face softened, and she let go of his hands. "Merry Christmas, Doctor."

Then she grabbed the lapels of the Doctor's coat and pulled him in for a snog.