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When Rose and the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, hand in hand, they never knew what to expect.
That was the point, of course. That was the fun part: they traveled everywhere, looking for new experiences, new surprises. It never seemed to get old.
Today, the surprise had come in the form of a family of Frelks, wreaking havoc on the streets of London in 2114: Frelks were peaceful, but very large, and when lost and confused could do a lot of damage without realizing they were doing any at all. Rose and the Doctor had managed to find a way to communicate with them, helped along by a young girl named Chava who had figured out long before everyone else that the Frelks weren’t malicious after all. She’d almost made friends with one of them, even, by offering fruits from her family’s kitchen.
And now the Frelks were finding their way off world, London was safe, and Rose and the Doctor were standing outside Chava’s family home, saying their goodbyes.
Or, they were attempting to say their goodbyes. Rose had barely opened her mouth when Chava said, her voice tinged with excitement, “Do you want to come in and light candles with us?”
“Candles?” Rose asked.
“For Hanukkah,” Chava explained. “It’s the first night. Don’t you know?”
The Doctor laughed. “We don’t always keep very good track of time,” she said. She looked at Rose. “What do you say?”
Rose looked down at Chava, who was looking back at them with wide and hopeful eyes. “What do your mums say?” she asked. “Is it all right with them?”
“Of course it is,” Chava said. “They know you saved the world and everything. Anyway, we always have guests. Like last year I had my best friend over every single night. And this year she couldn’t come for the first night, so you have to stay.”
The Doctor leaned down, smiling. “Why don’t you go ask, just in case?”
“Okay. But the answer’s going to be yes.” Chava ran off into the house. Rose and the Doctor exchanged a smile. This was exactly the sort of thing Rose loved, traveling with the Doctor: sure, they saw all sorts of beautiful landmarks, saved planet after planet, but it was the individual people they met, the snapshots of different lives that they saw, that Rose truly loved.
A few minutes later, Chava was back, one of her mums— Sarah, Rose remembered— in tow.
“Mama,” she said, “tell Rose and the Doctor they can stay.”
“We’d love to have you,” Sarah said. Her smile put an emphasis on the laugh lines around her face. Rose couldn’t help but grin in return.
“Brilliant,” she said. She took the Doctor’s hand and squeezed. “What do you say, Doctor?”
“I’d be delighted.”
Inside, the house felt warm and cozy: the lights were dim, and the table was set, complete with nine-candled menorah in the middle. Rose and the Doctor sat down next to each other, their hands finding each other in the space between the chairs, and Chava’s other mum— Esther— came in, a long lighter in one hand.
“All right,” she said. “Looks like it’s time to light some candles. Chava, do you want to do it tonight?”
Chava practically jumped out of her seat. “Yes!”
Esther gave her a look. “You have to stay still, all right? I don’t want you burning the house down.”
“I won’t burn the house down,” Chava mumbled.
“I know.” Esther smiled at her, her eyes and voice both full of love. She leaned forward with the lighter, but Chava shot back up.
“Wait!” she cried. To Rose and the Doctor, she said, “We didn’t ask if you already heard the Hanukkah story. Have you heard it?”
Rose knew what the Doctor was going to say a second before she said it. She leaned towards Chava, tapping her on the nose, and said, “Not the way you tell it.”
Chava beamed at that. “Mum, you have to wait so I can tell the story.”
“All right, love,” Esther said, lowering the lighter. “Go ahead.”
“Okay. So.” Chava took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, way way way way back in the olden days, a bunch of people really didn’t like Jewish people. And they ruined all our temples and everything. And then there was a big fight, and we won, but then when people got back to the temple it was all ruined.” She ran out of air here, but with another breath, she was back to her story. “And they were supposed to have lamps lit every single night , but way back then they still used oil, but the temple was all ruined, and the oil was all ruined, and they only had enough for one night , and it was going to be days and days until they could get more.”
“What did they do?” Rose asked, feeling a little like she was filling in a part in a play. She knew the story, or at least she half-remembered hearing it from a friend back in the 21st century. But, as the Doctor had said— she didn't know the way Chava told it.
“They used the oil,” Chava said. “And they thought it wouldn’t work after one night, but then it worked for another night, and another, and for eight whole nights . And that’s why we light candles every single night for eight nights of Hanukkah.” She paused, considering. “ And we get to eat latkes. Because you cook them in oil. And they’re so good. Especially when Mama makes them.” She grinned up at Esther. “Okay. We can light the candle now.”
Esther lifted the lighter again. Her hand hovered near the candles, and Chava whispered to Rose and the Doctor, “We have to say the blessings first.” She looked to her mums. A second later, Sarah began singing, and Chava and Esther joined in.
Rose realized with a start that she didn’t understand the blessing. She wasn't used to that— the TARDIS translation circuit nearly always filled in the gaps. But prayers were fiddly, she’d learned over the years. Sometimes the original language was important to understanding them. Tonight, the Hebrew sounded familiar, but only because Rose had had Jewish friends before she met the Doctor; it wasn’t the smooth English she was used to.
Esther lit the tall candle in the middle of the menorah, and Chava picked it up in her little hand, Sarah hovering behind her just in case. Slowly, carefully, Chava moved the flame to the first unlit candle, touching the wicks together— and the flame passed between the candles, enduring as Chava pulled her candle away and replaced it in the middle of the menorah.
“Now we sing,” Chava whispered to Rose and the Doctor. She started this time, her voice clear and loud, and her parents chimed in. Rose shot the Doctor a grin, and she found the Doctor smiling back, rocking a little to the music. Rose loved these moments, traveling with the Doctor, where she got to meet new people and see new ways of living— where she got to stand in a stranger’s living room and feel an overwhelming sense of home , a familiarity even at a distance.
Rose and the Doctor stayed until the candles burned down low. They ate the latkes Chava presented to them proudly, and then Chava managed to get everyone sitting in a circle on the floor to play dreidel for chocolate coins. By the time they said their goodbyes, the Doctor had pocketed most of the coins presented for play, and Rose bumped against her as they walked, hand-in-hand, back to the TARDIS.
“You definitely cheated,” she said.
“Did not,” the Doctor retorted. “I just happen to be very skilled at spinning top games.”
Rose scoffed. “It’s all luck.”
“Not the way I play it.”
Rose looked over to see the Doctor’s satisfied smirk. She rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously this proud of beating out a seven-year-old for some chocolate?”
“Didn’t just beat out a seven-year-old, did I?” They were at the TARDIS now, and the Doctor turned as she pushed the door open. “Beat out you.”
“My pride may never recover.” But Rose leaned her head on the Doctor’s shoulder anyway, and as they stepped into the console room, the Doctor turned, pulling Rose into her arms. Rose swayed against her, still wrapped up in the warmth of the night.
“Good day?” the Doctor murmured into her ear.
“Good day,” Rose replied, smiling against the Doctor’s shoulder.
And it had been.