When in Rome! Well, France, actually...(prompted)
Pairing: 10th Doctor/Sam
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing in any way, shape, or form.
Summary: The Doctor takes Sam on as a companion, and they visit Marie Antoinette. Of course, everything goes wrong. Prompt given to me by quickmanifyouloveme on tumblr.
--
“Anywhere?” Sam’s eyes were wide, child-like almost, as he looked at the controls in front of him.
“Anywhere in time and space,” the Doctor replied softly. He was beginning to doubt himself, which was something he hardly ever did. He was wondering about Sam, how he would serve as a companion. He was raised as a traveler, that wasn’t the problem; the issue here was that the boy was also always taught to shoot first and ask questions later. There was a carefully controlled, violent force in his hazel eyes, and the Doctor felt a crawling underneath his skin when he saw it, because to be honest, it scared him.
Sam broke his thoughts and looked back over at him, his face first slack and amazed. Then he grinned, absolutely beamed, dimples and everything. All of the previous darkness swimming in his gaze-the weight of the world that was an evident strain on his shoulders-it all lifted with just a smile.
That, the Doctor thought, is why I chose you.
“Okay. France. 1774,” his eyes twinkled, mischievous and merry.
“Why, you fancy Mary Antoinette?” the Doctor teased as he hopped around his controls. He was answered with a laugh.
“Maybe.” He looked back at a still grinning Sam, then pointed to the mallet underneath the panels. Sam held it with a confused look, and the Doctor grinned.
“Hit that doohickey over there,” he said, pointing at a mass of flashing buttons. Sam’s eyebrows rose, but he did as he was told, just like he was taught. The Doctor would have to change that.
The TARDIS chose that moment to lurch unexpectedly, sending them both flying.
“What did you do?” the Doctor got back on his feet quickly and began spinning knobs and whirling whirly gigs, wondering just what in the hell was happening?
“I hit the ‘doohickey’ like you told me!” Sam said, face scrunched up from where he was lying on the floor.
“Was it blue?”
“No, purple!”
“That’s the thingy-majigger, not the doohickey!”
Sam just stared, absolutely dumbfounded, then scoffed.
“Um, Sam?” the Doctor looked at his new companion where he sat on the floor-just what are you doing with your face, you look like you’ve eaten something sour!-and gave a large grin. ”Hold on tight!”
-
They stumbled out of the TARDIS, wheezing and waving smoke from their faces.
“Honestly? Thingy-majigger? What kind of name is that!?” Sam coughed, leaning over with his hands on his knees.
“Oi! Don’t insult her, she’s sensitive!” the Doctor yelled through the hand over his mouth. He shut and locked the doors and patted her side, whispering soothingly.
“Oh my god, do you two need a moment?” Sam asked, eyeing the Doctor as he stroked the wooden sides lovingly, “Sweet Christ, you’re worse than Dean,” Sam said, mirth returning to replace the smoke in his eyes.
“I’m the Doctor, I’m worse than a lot of people,” he replied, Cheshire-cat grin on his cheeks.
They stood there smiling at each other for a moment, not really caring about where or when they were, until they heard a honking noise.
“Qu’est-ce que vous faites, hein? Merdes, les comptes!” an angry voice shouted as a car whizzed past, and they realized they had stumbled into the street. Luckily, the TARDIS landed on a patch of grass. That happened to be right underneath La Tour Eiffel.
“France,” Sam said simply, eyes squinted against the sun.
“Yeah. Well, you know, we’re a couple hundred years late, but-,” the Doctor began talking, but he was interrupted by Sam. Sam, who was had at least fifty pounds in muscle and maybe an inch or twelve more in height than he did, and was grabbing his hand like an excited kid at the fair.
“I don’t care, Doctor. It’s France!” and with that, he took off, hand still wrapped around the Doctor’s.
“Now you can’t flirt with the fantastic Marie, though,” the Doctor called above their pounding footsteps. They looked like fools, two grown men running around hands with their hands held tightly like they were locked together. That didn’t matter though, really. Especially if it made Sam look the way he did.
“I’ll find someone,” he responded in between bouts of laughter. The look he sent the Doctor’s way made his hearts pick up their pace. Well. This was new.
-
They rode the carousel, the one that had the perfect view of la Grande Mosquée de Paris, giggling madly at how ridiculous Sam looked atop such a tiny horse.
They rented a rowboat and rowed out to l’Île de la Cité, and browsed, making sure to watch the sunset from the stained glass windows of the Notre Dame de Paris.
When night fell, they found themselves watching fireworks from atop L’Arc de Triomphe. The locals were celebrating la Fête Nationale, le quatorze juillet; or, more commonly known in English as, “Bastille Day,” The French Independence Day.
“Funny,” the Doctor said, watching as blue, white, and red sparks rained down from the sky. Sam hmm‘d him from where he was sitting, head rolling sideways sleepily.
“You’d wanted to go see Marie Antoinette, you’d wanted a revolution; here we are, instead, seeing the celebration of their fall.”
Sam was quiet, but not a bad quiet, more of a thoughtful quiet, the Doctor presumed.
Then he turned his head, calling out softly.
“Doctor?”
Before he could reply, he felt lips pressed tentatively against his.
He looked at a blushing Sam, too shocked to say anything.
“Thanks.”
“Well…laissez les bons temps roulez,” the Doctor said softly, smiling and receiving a smile in return.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing in any way, shape, or form.
Summary: The Doctor takes Sam on as a companion, and they visit Marie Antoinette. Of course, everything goes wrong. Prompt given to me by quickmanifyouloveme on tumblr.
--
“Anywhere?” Sam’s eyes were wide, child-like almost, as he looked at the controls in front of him.
“Anywhere in time and space,” the Doctor replied softly. He was beginning to doubt himself, which was something he hardly ever did. He was wondering about Sam, how he would serve as a companion. He was raised as a traveler, that wasn’t the problem; the issue here was that the boy was also always taught to shoot first and ask questions later. There was a carefully controlled, violent force in his hazel eyes, and the Doctor felt a crawling underneath his skin when he saw it, because to be honest, it scared him.
Sam broke his thoughts and looked back over at him, his face first slack and amazed. Then he grinned, absolutely beamed, dimples and everything. All of the previous darkness swimming in his gaze-the weight of the world that was an evident strain on his shoulders-it all lifted with just a smile.
That, the Doctor thought, is why I chose you.
“Okay. France. 1774,” his eyes twinkled, mischievous and merry.
“Why, you fancy Mary Antoinette?” the Doctor teased as he hopped around his controls. He was answered with a laugh.
“Maybe.” He looked back at a still grinning Sam, then pointed to the mallet underneath the panels. Sam held it with a confused look, and the Doctor grinned.
“Hit that doohickey over there,” he said, pointing at a mass of flashing buttons. Sam’s eyebrows rose, but he did as he was told, just like he was taught. The Doctor would have to change that.
The TARDIS chose that moment to lurch unexpectedly, sending them both flying.
“What did you do?” the Doctor got back on his feet quickly and began spinning knobs and whirling whirly gigs, wondering just what in the hell was happening?
“I hit the ‘doohickey’ like you told me!” Sam said, face scrunched up from where he was lying on the floor.
“Was it blue?”
“No, purple!”
“That’s the thingy-majigger, not the doohickey!”
Sam just stared, absolutely dumbfounded, then scoffed.
“Um, Sam?” the Doctor looked at his new companion where he sat on the floor-just what are you doing with your face, you look like you’ve eaten something sour!-and gave a large grin. ”Hold on tight!”
-
They stumbled out of the TARDIS, wheezing and waving smoke from their faces.
“Honestly? Thingy-majigger? What kind of name is that!?” Sam coughed, leaning over with his hands on his knees.
“Oi! Don’t insult her, she’s sensitive!” the Doctor yelled through the hand over his mouth. He shut and locked the doors and patted her side, whispering soothingly.
“Oh my god, do you two need a moment?” Sam asked, eyeing the Doctor as he stroked the wooden sides lovingly, “Sweet Christ, you’re worse than Dean,” Sam said, mirth returning to replace the smoke in his eyes.
“I’m the Doctor, I’m worse than a lot of people,” he replied, Cheshire-cat grin on his cheeks.
They stood there smiling at each other for a moment, not really caring about where or when they were, until they heard a honking noise.
“Qu’est-ce que vous faites, hein? Merdes, les comptes!” an angry voice shouted as a car whizzed past, and they realized they had stumbled into the street. Luckily, the TARDIS landed on a patch of grass. That happened to be right underneath La Tour Eiffel.
“France,” Sam said simply, eyes squinted against the sun.
“Yeah. Well, you know, we’re a couple hundred years late, but-,” the Doctor began talking, but he was interrupted by Sam. Sam, who was had at least fifty pounds in muscle and maybe an inch or twelve more in height than he did, and was grabbing his hand like an excited kid at the fair.
“I don’t care, Doctor. It’s France!” and with that, he took off, hand still wrapped around the Doctor’s.
“Now you can’t flirt with the fantastic Marie, though,” the Doctor called above their pounding footsteps. They looked like fools, two grown men running around hands with their hands held tightly like they were locked together. That didn’t matter though, really. Especially if it made Sam look the way he did.
“I’ll find someone,” he responded in between bouts of laughter. The look he sent the Doctor’s way made his hearts pick up their pace. Well. This was new.
-
They rode the carousel, the one that had the perfect view of la Grande Mosquée de Paris, giggling madly at how ridiculous Sam looked atop such a tiny horse.
They rented a rowboat and rowed out to l’Île de la Cité, and browsed, making sure to watch the sunset from the stained glass windows of the Notre Dame de Paris.
When night fell, they found themselves watching fireworks from atop L’Arc de Triomphe. The locals were celebrating la Fête Nationale, le quatorze juillet; or, more commonly known in English as, “Bastille Day,” The French Independence Day.
“Funny,” the Doctor said, watching as blue, white, and red sparks rained down from the sky. Sam hmm‘d him from where he was sitting, head rolling sideways sleepily.
“You’d wanted to go see Marie Antoinette, you’d wanted a revolution; here we are, instead, seeing the celebration of their fall.”
Sam was quiet, but not a bad quiet, more of a thoughtful quiet, the Doctor presumed.
Then he turned his head, calling out softly.
“Doctor?”
Before he could reply, he felt lips pressed tentatively against his.
He looked at a blushing Sam, too shocked to say anything.
“Thanks.”
“Well…laissez les bons temps roulez,” the Doctor said softly, smiling and receiving a smile in return.