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Bill was no stranger to odd things appearing in the Doctor’s office. The guy was textbook weird , he had an electric guitar and impossibly rare books and a whole police box that he claimed had been brought in by a crane.
She was no stranger to any of this. She liked to think she knew him at this point, or at least sort of understood him. Why else would he have kept her around, these last couple months?
But today, she was questioning it. Not because the newest addition to his office was strange, no, not at all. It was weird and out of place because of how absolutely normal it was.
“Are you Jewish?” Bill asked impulsively. (Maybe it was a rude way to ask, but rudeness was just kind of how she and the Doctor communicated, so she wasn’t too worried.)
“Hm?” the Doctor asked, poking his head into the room, a record in his hands. “Why do you ask?”
“Because there’s a menorah on your desk.”
“Ah. That’s not mine, actually. It’s a gift for a dear friend of ours.” He paused and moved over to his turntable, carefully sliding the vinyl from its sleeve and placing it on, gently setting the needle down on the outside. “I’m not particularly religious, no. But my wife and I have, over the years, collected a fair amount of friends from many different backgrounds, and one of them likes to host everyone at her home for a Hanukkah dinner every year. Last year she mentioned wanting to retire her menorah and get a new one, hence–” he gestured over to the candelabra on his desk.
“My mum was Jewish,” said Bill. “Which I guess means I am, too, technically, but my foster mum isn’t, so I’ve never really done anything.”
The Doctor twisted his hands around, as if debating something with himself, and then cleared his throat. “Ah. Would you… like to come?”
“What?”
“To the Hanukkah dinner. With my wife and I. I’m sure Sarah Jane would be happy to have you.”
Bill’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Really?”
“Uhm, yes. I should think so.”
Slowly, a grin spread across her face. “I’d love to.”
He cleared his throat again. “Lovely. I’ll tell Rose.”
Bill suddenly realized what this meant.
She’d finally, finally get to meet the Doctor’s wife. He talked about her, but never really said anything, and Bill was painfully curious to meet the person who was crazy enough to marry a man like the Doctor.
—
Rose was nothing like what she expected.
Bill had come into the Doctor’s office at the agreed upon time to find a pretty blonde woman sitting in his chair, her feet up on his desk. At first Bill had thought she was just a really, really bold student, because she looked like she was around Bill’s age, mid twenties at most.
Bill cleared her throat, planning on asking the woman what the hell she was doing and could she help, before the woman looked up from the book she’d been reading and sprang to her feet, a wide smile spreading across her face.
“Hi, are you Bill?” she asked, bounding over and sticking out her hand to shake. “I’m Rose, Rose Tyler. The Doctor’s told me so much about you.”
“You’re Rose?” Bill asked, and the woman nodded. “You’re the Doctor’s wife? Like, you’re married to him?”
Rose laughed. “Yeah, I am.”
“How old are you?” Bill asked, before immediately realizing how rude of a question that was to ask.
“A lot older than I look,” said Rose with a wink.
Before Bill could ask what that meant, the Doctor came in, holding the menorah from earlier triumphantly. “Got it working,” he said proudly, grinning at Rose with a brighter smile than Bill had ever seen him with before.
Hang on, got it working? Bill thought. It’s a menorah.
“Great,” said Rose, smiling back at him. She stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, then held up a set of car keys. “Ready?” she asked, looking over at Bill. “It’s a couple hours’ ride, so if you need to use the loo or anything you should go now.”
“Oh, you sound just like your mother,” said the Doctor teasingly.
Rose scowled at him. “Shut up, you. It’s Hanukkah, no digs at my mum.”
The car ride was pleasant. Rose drove, keeping up a lively conversation with Bill, asking her about schooling, her social life, et cetera, with the Doctor interjecting occasionally.
Rose was rather cagey about herself. Bill asked what she did for a living, and the Doctor began to cut her off, but Rose shot him a look, and he stopped. They proceeded to have some sort of silent argument for the next minute or so, resulting in Rose rolling her eyes, looking at Bill in the rearview mirror, and saying, “I don’t think I’m actually allowed to tell you that, sorry. One of those government jobs.”
“What, you mean like a spy?” Bill asked, leaning forward in interest.
“Something like that,” Rose said with a wink.
They arrived at a little house in London about an hour before sunset. A pretty middle aged woman with dark hair answered the door, her eyes lighting up upon seeing them. She threw her arms around Rose, and then the Doctor, who protested the hug but allowed it to happen.
He handed the menorah to the woman, who accepted it with shining eyes and a kiss to the Doctor’s cheek.
“It’s special, too,” said the Doctor quietly. “Self lighting shamash.”
The woman’s smile grew when she caught sight of who was behind the Doctor and Rose. “Oh, you must be Bill! I’m Sarah Jane. I’ve heard so much about you, come on inside.”
—
The Doctor’s friends were nothing short of weird. Not the bad, uncomfortable kind of weird, but the kind, fun kind of weird, where you can tell everyone is being their authentic selves. Martha and her husband Mickey were probably the most normal ones, but even they made cracks at the Doctor and Rose for how old they were and how long they’d been together, saying they’d been around for centuries. It all had to be some elaborate inside joke that everyone was in on except for Bill.
She didn’t really even mind not being entirely in the know, because everyone was so kind and welcoming to her otherwise. She ended up in the kitchen with one woman, Donna, making applesauce from scratch. She’d told Donna how she’d lost her mum and never really got to do anything Jewish as a result, and Donna’s face had softened, and she’d assigned herself Bill’s guide.
Donna was wonderful. She called the Doctor “Spaceman” with so much fondness in her voice, Bill could tell he was basically a sibling to her. Donna told Bill about her daughter, who was around Bill’s age, only a few years younger, who’d named herself for her Aunt Rose. She hadn’t made it to the party tonight, Donna said, she’d had some school thing to go to, but everyone asked about her and Donna delighted in telling everyone all about all her recent achievements and such.
She met Sarah Jane’s son, Luke, his boyfriend, and a few of his other friends that were around her age. There was Amy and Rory, and their small son Anthony, an older man who Bill deduced was Rory’s father from their incredibly similar mannerisms. Clara arrived late, pulling a large container of sufganiyot from the back of her motorcycle.
All of them, delightfully strange as they were, accepted Bill as part of the group immediately. It truly stunned her; she’d never really gotten to do anything like this. Her foster mum’s friends never really paid her any mind, and even her foster mum treated her more like a friend or a flatmate than a daughter.
Later, after the candles had been lit and the prayers were sung and the food was served, Bill caught something Sarah Jane was saying to the Doctor.
“I told you once, remember, that you had the biggest family on Earth. That’s never been more true, has it?”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“I’m glad you’re still adding to our family.”
The Doctor smiled softly. “Me, too,” he said.
Family was never about blood. Bill of all people knew that pretty well. But she hadn’t known that sometimes, you can find your family in the most unexpected of places – like, for instance, by sneaking into a lecture hall.
That was what Hanukkah was really about though, wasn’t it? Good food, good people, and laughter in the face of those who would tell you that you can’t be yourself.
Bill raised her glass to the ceiling for a moment. Chag Sameach, Mum, she thought.