who ten & rose what mistletoe! flailing doctor! probably finding K9! where their flat when christmas day! warnings kissing! nothing major, so I guess tbd?
While the Doctor hadn't been the most forthcoming with what had been weighing him down, he'd found outlets for the pain. Having a house, a proper house with doors and windows, all those things he'd dreaded, had certainly done a number on his ability to be attentive. The Doctor, having every painful awareness of leaving Rose, couldn't bring himself to be around her the same way he used to; he didn't deserve it. That didn't mean he blatantly avoided her, but he did find ways to keep terribly busy.
Now it was Christmas. Had he really been here long enough for a holiday to creep up on him? It had been Christmas time when he'd arrived here, cuts and bruises fresh from the debacle with Rassilon on his skin. He'd fully recovered from that physically, but every night the Doctor managed to actually allow himself to sleep, he remembered with striking clarity how distraught he'd been to watch the Master save him and the rest of the planet.
Instead of rushing out to see new, fascinating arrivals or burying himself in attempting to repair the TARDIS, the Doctor really needed to pay attention to the luck he'd been given in being practically marooned on this parallel Earth. So, when it occurred to him that it was well into the afternoon, he emerged from his ship, tattered brown and blue pinstripe suit punctuated by a Santa hat, and sought out his beloved housemate that he'd undeniably neglected.
Tucked under his arm was a small parcel, a trinket he'd made for her in the spirit of Christmas and also as a bit of an apology. Out of the garage and into the living room, the Doctor looked around the empty living room with curious eyes, "Rose? Are you in?"