Title: Bad Day
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Spoilers: None
Summary: Rose is having a bad day, and The Doctor isn't helping.
Disclaimer: I'm running out of clever ways to say I don't own DW, and that's sad.
AN: Pointless ficlet that's been killing me demanding I write it. Tried to explain killing me wouldn't help...but its psycho. Seriously. o.o Lots of thanks to
spastasmagoria for help with insults and the 'supplies' scene.
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Bad day
She glared at the back of his coat. His smug, chipper, smarmy, know-it-all, cowardly, emotionally retarded, cute, adorable, silly, annoying, stupid coat. Which happened to inherit so many attributes from the one currently wearing it. Who happened to be humming happily bouncing around the control room, completely ignoring her.
Well. Perhaps not ignoring so much as simply being so absorbed in his work that he was oblivious to any existance but his own and the TARDIS'. And the latter might be a stretch.
She crossed her arms and sat back in the couch, thoroughly frustrated and bordering on being downright furious. She wasn't certain if she hoped he was intentionally overlooking the tension radiating off of her, or if he was simply incapable of noticing it. He always used to downplay his old face, using words like 'daft' and 'silly' (well, the latter not so often).
At this point she would have to argue about which was more daft. And she didn't think about his old self all that often anymore, his new one was quite nice on its own. But it was also so very very oblivious to all things Rose.
And today that absolutely drove her mad. Not a "Good Morning, Rose" Not a "You look lovely in that, Rose", not even a proper hello. Throwing in hello while rambling on about nonsense to no one in particular (or it could have been to her, if he bothered to slow down enough for the TARDIS to even attempt to translate it into something she could remotely understand)was not a proper hello in any time period. Or, at least, it shouldn't be.
She tapped a foot on the grate floor of the TARDIS, annoyed at the lack of carpets anywhere in the ship. How the hell did carpets mean domesticity? As far as she was concerned it meant not freezing your feet off, or making permanant red imprints in your skin. And if he tried the 'wear shoes' one more time, she was going to throw one at him.
Yes. Rose Marion Tyler was thoroughly pissed off at everything and nothing in particular. As general anger tended to be, it zeroed in on what was her most present irritation. The nine-hundred year-old time travelling alien that was so damned superior he didn't deign to have a name. Who was now grinning at her like a fool, completely unperturbed by the venomous look she was directing at him.
Well. At least he was looking at her--no, wait, not anymore. She sighed in disgust. Today was a bad day. She'd figured that one out early morning when her alarm clock wouldn't stop going off and The Doctor said he'd fix it 'later'.
"We left...April, right?"
She blinked at his sudden coherence, and almost focus of attention (he still wasn't looking at her), and looked up at him. "What?"
"Jackie's flat." He clarified (still not looking, the cock-sure wank-tard.) "Don't want to get slapped again for keeping you away another year."
She furrowed her brow, anxiety and confusion brewing in her stomach to make something that would probably look nauseating if she wasn't careful. "Why are we going there?"
"So you can...you know."
Her confusion was only growing, and it was doing nothing for her mood. Or her headache. Goodness, when had she gotten that? Must have been some time during his droning. Or it was the only effect of her private willing for him to implode.
He glanced up at her, expression slightly nervous, but with an almost supportive smile. "So you can...stock up."
"What the hell are you going on about, Doctor?"
He fidgeted. What had gotten into him? "You know...eat chocolate. Complain about men. Do whatever you do during it."
She sighed. "'It'?"
"You know...that...time." he nodded slightly.
Nine hundred years and he still couldn't talk about it with a straight face. Even in his last self, he had simply stood at the door, stone-faced, and waved for her to go do whatever she needed. Her lips twitched non-commitedly, unsure where to be amused at the spectacle, or annoyed at his...his...so...characteristically male assumption.
The annoyance won out.
"You..." Her voice failed her for a moment. "You think I'm...oh now that's rich!"
He frowned in confusion. "You mean..."
"No!"
His mouth hung open wordlessly for a few moments, before he made a small 'Oh', and turned his attention back to the TARDIS. No 'What is it then', no 'Sorry', not even an offer for some bloody chocolate!
Chocolate sounded good, actually...no! Not now--it would only reaffirm his very wrong belief. At least, she thought it was wrong. There weren't exactly calanders to keep track with, and even if there were, she wasn't exactly regular lately. He said it had to do with the effects of travelling through time. She was suspicious it might be permanant. Of course, she'd never told her Mum. She hadn't felt like breaking in another Doctor or two yet.
Over at the consol, The Doctor was apparently in an annoying mood, as he managed to annoy the TARDIS enough to be rewarded by several sparks. It was rather satisfying to see him jump back in mild discomfort, right up until he stuck his injured fingers in his mouth.
It was a good thing he was busy pinning the TARDIS with an accusatory hurt look, because she didn't want to explain why she suddenly found herself staring so intently at those fingers. Or more precisely, at the mouth that happened to be (rather fruitlessly)attempting to suck away the pain from the reddened skin where the sparks had landed.
Her throat was dry, and that pissed her off to no end. Damn him and his stupid slim, foxy, wiry, sexy, new body, with big hair, and absolutely nothing adorably daft to distract herself with! It absolutely wasn't fair. And it absolutely wasn't bloody fair that she still hadn't seen that mole, and...
No. Nope. Wrong train of thought. Angry. That's what she was. She was not going to let his stupid, annoying, childlike, emotionally-stunted, adorable, bouncy, endearing, infuriating antics get her all hot and bothered now. Absolutely not.
"Rose...you're staring."
Damn.
"Didn't know there were rules against it." She retorted.
He sighed. That sigh. And he got that look. That look that said 'stupid apes and their stupid emotions'. Except it looked alot more like 'Stupid Rose and her stupid annoying emotions' to her at the moment. And that really just took the cake, didn't it?
She was up across the room before she realized it, and she might have slapped him if he hadn't backed up and put up his hands defensively. Which was probably because of the odd part of...something vaguely resembling metal that may or may not have once belonged inside the TARDIS' consol, that she had picked up at some point she couldn't recall.
Whatever it was, and wherever she had gotten it, it was pointy, it looked threatening, and she was not afraid to do more than just wave it wildly about. And his almost-wary expression conveyed he realized this. And it also meant she had his complete attention for once in the day. And that was almost satisfying.
If she weren't already building up so much steam, it might've been. As it was it just spurred her on. And she absolutely was not stopping until he had heard all there was to hear. And absolutely was a very useful and versitile word.
And now that she had him listening, instead of talking, she found out she had nothing to say, really.
"Rose..." He tried cautiously, moving as if he'd step forward.
"I'm not done with you yet!" She snapped, jabbing the...thing...at him. He stepped back again.
She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts, before redoubling her glare at him. "Now...you...listen up for once and stop talking!"
"If you wanted to talk, you didn't need to threaten me with--" Whatever expression passed across her face must have reflected her deep annoyance, as he abruptly silenced.
"I'm tired of you....your..." She paused.
"Rose...what?"
"Your...cocky...self-assured...arrogant...arrogant-ness!"
He looked as if he was not sure whether to be annoyed or bewildered.
She jabbed it at him, but he didn't move this time. Probably annoyed, then.
"You're just..." She huffed at the lack of words in her mind. He was doing it on purpose. Blanking her mind or something. He had to be. "Just..."
"What's wrong, Rose?"
"You're just too..."
"Alien?" He looked hurt now, and that was starting to ruin her mood. That wouldn't do.
She shook her head quickly. "You're..."
"Strange?"
"No! Now stop augumentin' my volcabulary for a second, and let me talk!"
He complied, but he was looking at her like that. That...that disappointed, flat, empty look, that he reserved for times when it looked like no one would live. And it hurt. More than she expected it to. And...and...since when was it his right to be disappointed? He wasn't the one constantly being taunted and teased by an absolutely wonderful, fantastic, oblivious, frustrating, maddening alien who didn't seem even slightly concerned about what he was doing.
"You're...driving me mad being...being..." She fished desperately through her mind for a proper description. "You!"
Before he had much of a chance to decide how to react to however he translated what she said (and he did translate it...he always translated things.), the piece of quasi-metal was clattering to the floor, her hands abandoning it in favor of the lapels of his jacket.
Clearly she wasn't going mad. She was mad. But, as his back-pedalling (or was it her advancing?) abruptly found a TARDIS wall, she decided madness was alot more rewarding than she'd expect it to be.
Brown eyes wide with shock, and perhaps panic, dimmed slightly and fell shut under her relentless assault. Under normal circumstances she might pale at the thought of daring to do something like forcefully shoving her tongue past his lips, and rather shamelessly plundering his defenseless mouth, but these were hardly normal circumstances, were they?
She half expected, after his initial shock, to find two firm arms shoving her away, and see him giving her one of his 'looks', or worse. She found quite the opposite. Which, if she bothered to think about it, might have implied she really was mad as a...rabbit? What were wrong with rabbits that made them mad? Or was she confusing them with another animal? Oh, Lord...she had been around him too long!
Her mind hastily shelved that train of thought, as arms pulled her closer rather than away, and she found herself quickly losing the position of being the one in control. Although...how had she ended up in this position to begin with? Wasn't she supposed to be angry about him ignoring her? Since when did arguments end snogging up against a wall?
In what was probably an act of considerable self control, she pulled away from him with a huff. He was watching her with a winded, half-lidded gaze, mouth still partially open. What she wouldn't give for a camera to keep it with her next time he felt like ignoring her.
She smoothed imaginary wrinkles in her shirt as she composed herself, and collected her thoughts. She needed a snazzy one-liner to walk out on.
"That'll teach you to ignore me, yeah?"
She nodded, pleased with herself, and turned to head back to her bedroom. She would have marched straight to it, too. Except a hand snatched her elbow and spun her back round to face him. The dark smoldering in his eyes caught her breath, and she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.
"Hello, Rose."
END
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AN: Ah. Abrupt ending! Was gonna be a bit longer, but it was stretching the characterization, and the original point of the fic was the kiss anyway ;p