RP for imnot_hisgirl:
Formal affairs were not for the faint of heart. Or perhaps they were. He wasn't entirely sure. He just knew as he stared at himself in the mirror, it felt like all this dressing up was entirely too complicated. Especially the bit about trying to tie his tux
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"That's a bit too sweet, don't you think?"
He let his gaze move away from the food and towards Martha. He stopped for a moment, taking in her appearance.
"You look lovely," he finally said, grinning. She did. He wasn't used to seeing Martha all dressed up like this. It was a bit startling, but in the best possible way. She looked fantastic.
Still he couldn't help but think she looked even better when she was just lounging around in sweats and trainers.
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As for the cake: "Just a bit. The frosting's even worse, like liquid sugar. But they're a friend of Mum's. Tom likes the lemon one," she picked up one of the samples and handed it to Nameless. "I think it's too tart. What do you think?"
She took a step back and picked up the silver hair pin from where it sat on her pile of medical books. She twisted her hair up and clasped it, as well. Leaving her hair down might give the wrong impression to her employers.
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He wasn't sure how it could be worse, but well, it could always be worse.
He tried the lemon one. It actually wasn't that bad, he thought. Still he made a face and shook his head no.
"Definitely too tart."
He poked around at the rest of the cakes on the tray, but didn't take any more. He moved towards the sofa and flopped down instead, pushing the curtain back to see if the car had arrived yet.
"It's not too late for you to call up and claim you've fallen ill, is it? Or you can just say I'm terribly ill and you have to tend to me, being a doctor and everything. Either excuse should work, I'd think."
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At least it was over. The chasing, the uncertainty. Not that going to Paris wasn't fun, in many ways she loved the freedom more than she wanted to admit. But it was better, knowing where her place was. Knowing what she had to do every day.
"And you don't look anything like the waitstaff at these places, don't worry. I always worry someone will think my dress is inappropriate for some reason or other."
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"It's worth a shot at least?"
It was odd being back here after all that, but back they were. They seemed to fall back into the same routine rather quickly. Still, it didn't seem quite so bad anymore. There were moments where he felt trapped still, but there were moments where he felt completely at ease as well.
He looked at her dress, tilting his head to the side.
"Really? Have you seen the dresses half the women wear to these sorts of parties? You're fine, trust me."
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She leaned against the sofa and looked in the direction of the window. She felt less at ease after falling asleep on the TARDIS. She did miss the traveling. The adventure. It was hard to stuff all of that want back inside of herself, but she did.
She only hoped nothing would happen to wake it back up.
"So how many of these have you been to?"
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He decided that's the answer he would go with. He didn't feel like playing Doctor tonight. This would be a fresh and new experience. If he started down memory lane, one thought would lead to another and another and another.
He would just enjoy or be bored with tonight for it's own merits, not because of borrowed memories.
A car horn sounded from the streets below.
"Think that's us," he said, looking out the window at the Town Car below. "UNIT knows how to be properly posh at least."
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Nameless was on her level.
She nodded, adjusted the straps on her heels, and grabbed her satin handbag. "You remembered your name badge, right? They won't let you through the gate without it."
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"Give me a mo."
He ran up the stairs to his room, turning over things until he finally found the badge on his dresser.
He ran back down the stairs again, and flashed the badge at her.
"There we are!"
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Was there anything else she'd need? Name badge, lipstick, mobile. She briefly considered the small handgun she'd been assigned, the one sitting up in her office. No, no. Wouldn't be necessary. Nothing would go wrong there. It was an old UNIT house anyway.
She offered him her arm. "Shall we?"
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"We shall."
He opened the door, and arm in arm with Martha he moved down the stairs to the waiting car.
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"There's going to be a bit of wine there, according to Simson," she said as the driver held the door open for them. "I'm going to have to remind myself to only have one."
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He slid in and sat next to her.
"Oh, we should figure out codes and signals! In case we need to get away from a conversation, or if we want to try and sneak out or something."
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Only Nameless would think up something like that. Martha might've, but she generally thought she just had to wait out bad conversation or creepy co-workers.
"Right, if I glance your way and tug on my earring, that means you should come over and pull me out of that conversation. Especially if it's Major Rudgers. He's absolutely bonkers."
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He adjusted his tux a little more. It felt too tight and too off. He'd be happy when the evening was over simply so he could take the blasted thing off.
"Which one is he?"
He really couldn't keep any of them straight. Mostly because he had no real desire to distinguish one from the other. It was easier just to lump them all together. They all seemed the same in the end anyway.
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