Ficlet: Guesswork (1/1)
I made it through the first round at doctor_rose_las; here is my heretofore anonymous fic. ;)
Title: Guesswork
Author: karenor
Pairing/Characters: Ten/Rose, OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Who wears a suit to a pumpkin patch, anyway?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: Written for doctor_rose_las for the prompt: Write an account of the Doctor/Rose relationship from another character’s point of view. Therefore not beta'd. :) No spoilers. 998 words of me wishing it was October. :D
Tracy’s sisters hated it, being forced to work at the family business-the pumpkin patch in the fall, the Christmas tree lot in the winter. It took time away from their busy social lives; they considered themselves slaves for weekends and a few nights a week for two months a year. But she loved it. She had time to herself, could hear herself think away from the constant melee that was her house, and, as a bonus, basically had free range to indulge one of her slightly guilty pleasures, people watching.
She especially loved the pumpkin patch later in the evening, when the kids had gone home, but the adults, bundled up against the autumn chill, would wander among the rows, excited as children, looking for the perfect gourd to carve up, to indulge in their childlike whim.
She’d watch from her perch at the cash register, Styrofoam cup of tea grasped in her hand, her eyes seeking out the more interesting of the pumpkin patch’s patrons, challenging herself to try to figure them out, to make guesses about their lives based on purely superficial observations.
Tonight the patch was nearly empty. It was almost closing time and it was a particularly cold night. But there were still a few people hanging around. A couple not too far away from her caught her eye. A tall, thin man in a suit, with a mop of unruly brown atop his head, and a pretty blond woman. The man caught her attention first. Who wears a suit to a pumpkin patch, anyway? Her gaze travelled down his frame. Well, at least his shoes were sensible.
They were a ways off from her, but their voices carried toward her in the still night. Oh, they were British. A long way from home, then. She wondered what they were doing here. She put her tea down and stood, pretending to busy herself with stuff at the counter, when really she just wanted a better look at the pair. She could see them clearly now, they’d moved through the rows and were a bit closer to her.
“What about that one? Or no no no! That one!” the man said pointing enthusiastically.
“Doctor,” the woman sighed good-naturedly. “What are we going to do with it? In case you haven’t noticed, we haven’t exactly got a front porch.”
Tracy wondered at her calling him Doctor. He didn’t look like a medical doctor. A professor? Was he transferred here from England? Were they professor and student? Didn’t look like it by the way she clutched his arm or by her mention of ‘their’ lack of front porch.
“Well, we’ll just carve it up, make it lovely and set it on the porch of someone who has one-someone who isn’t as fortunate as us.”
The woman gave him a tremendous grin and planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He tried to turn into it to capture her lips but she evaded, skipping past him down the row.
Definitely not professor and student then, unless something really inappropriate was going on. Lovers. Or in love, at the very least. Maybe newly married. They had such a glow of happiness about them, like they never wanted to be apart for a second.
Or more specifically, she thought, studying them as he caught up with the woman, that even the worst of tragedies were bearable to them if they were together.
She shook her head, wondering where so maudlin a thought came from.
“There, Rose! That one.” He sounded resolved.
The woman, Rose, nudged the pumpkin with her shoe, and tilted her head this way and that, pretending to survey it. She huffed melodramatically. “It will do, I suppose.”
The man in brown grinned so brightly that Tracy felt her own heart skip a beat at the warmth of it, even from several feet away. What must it be like to be on the receiving end of a smile like that on a regular basis? He bent over and scooped the pumpkin up from its perch on the hay bale, and headed towards where Tracy stood, at the cash register.
The woman bounded ahead of him excitedly and addressed Tracy directly, “Hi. Have you got a loo around here somewhere? I’m dying and this one wouldn’t stop on the way.” Ah, not excitedly then, but because she had to pee.
“Sure, straight back there,” she pointed, “past the office.”
“Ta!” the blonde woman said cheerfully and scampered past.
She looked at the tall man in front of her, precariously holding a heavy pumpkin with one hand while he searched a pocket of his coat with the other, presumably looking for money.
She took the pumpkin off him and set it on the scale by the register. “Lemme guess,” she ventured, thinking it couldn’t hurt to take a stab at it, “Newlyweds? Your first Halloween together?”
The man looked almost wistful as he glanced in the direction the girl had gone. “Uh, no. We’re not married.”
Of course not-she mentally berated herself-no ring! How’d she missed that? “I’m sorry. It’s a thing I do… guessing. You two just seem so…” she trailed off, not wanting to blurt out her thoughts and embarrass herself in front of a complete stranger.
His eyes twinkled with curiosity, though, and he didn’t seem bothered. “So… what?”
“Um. In love,” she half-mumbled.
He immediately stopped fumbling through his pockets. For a moment he said nothing, and then he smiled. “Do we?” He looked genuinely surprised. Not by the truth of her statement, she was sure, but by the fact that it was apparently so obvious to onlookers.
Tracy nodded, and bit her lip slightly, embarrassed anyhow.
“Well,” he said, overjoyed, as he finally fished some money out of a pocket and placed the crumpled dollars in her hand. “Don’t tell her that,” he nodded in the direction of the bathroom, “she’d never let me hear the end of it.”
FIN
Title: Guesswork
Author: karenor
Pairing/Characters: Ten/Rose, OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Who wears a suit to a pumpkin patch, anyway?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: Written for doctor_rose_las for the prompt: Write an account of the Doctor/Rose relationship from another character’s point of view. Therefore not beta'd. :) No spoilers. 998 words of me wishing it was October. :D
Tracy’s sisters hated it, being forced to work at the family business-the pumpkin patch in the fall, the Christmas tree lot in the winter. It took time away from their busy social lives; they considered themselves slaves for weekends and a few nights a week for two months a year. But she loved it. She had time to herself, could hear herself think away from the constant melee that was her house, and, as a bonus, basically had free range to indulge one of her slightly guilty pleasures, people watching.
She especially loved the pumpkin patch later in the evening, when the kids had gone home, but the adults, bundled up against the autumn chill, would wander among the rows, excited as children, looking for the perfect gourd to carve up, to indulge in their childlike whim.
She’d watch from her perch at the cash register, Styrofoam cup of tea grasped in her hand, her eyes seeking out the more interesting of the pumpkin patch’s patrons, challenging herself to try to figure them out, to make guesses about their lives based on purely superficial observations.
Tonight the patch was nearly empty. It was almost closing time and it was a particularly cold night. But there were still a few people hanging around. A couple not too far away from her caught her eye. A tall, thin man in a suit, with a mop of unruly brown atop his head, and a pretty blond woman. The man caught her attention first. Who wears a suit to a pumpkin patch, anyway? Her gaze travelled down his frame. Well, at least his shoes were sensible.
They were a ways off from her, but their voices carried toward her in the still night. Oh, they were British. A long way from home, then. She wondered what they were doing here. She put her tea down and stood, pretending to busy herself with stuff at the counter, when really she just wanted a better look at the pair. She could see them clearly now, they’d moved through the rows and were a bit closer to her.
“What about that one? Or no no no! That one!” the man said pointing enthusiastically.
“Doctor,” the woman sighed good-naturedly. “What are we going to do with it? In case you haven’t noticed, we haven’t exactly got a front porch.”
Tracy wondered at her calling him Doctor. He didn’t look like a medical doctor. A professor? Was he transferred here from England? Were they professor and student? Didn’t look like it by the way she clutched his arm or by her mention of ‘their’ lack of front porch.
“Well, we’ll just carve it up, make it lovely and set it on the porch of someone who has one-someone who isn’t as fortunate as us.”
The woman gave him a tremendous grin and planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He tried to turn into it to capture her lips but she evaded, skipping past him down the row.
Definitely not professor and student then, unless something really inappropriate was going on. Lovers. Or in love, at the very least. Maybe newly married. They had such a glow of happiness about them, like they never wanted to be apart for a second.
Or more specifically, she thought, studying them as he caught up with the woman, that even the worst of tragedies were bearable to them if they were together.
She shook her head, wondering where so maudlin a thought came from.
“There, Rose! That one.” He sounded resolved.
The woman, Rose, nudged the pumpkin with her shoe, and tilted her head this way and that, pretending to survey it. She huffed melodramatically. “It will do, I suppose.”
The man in brown grinned so brightly that Tracy felt her own heart skip a beat at the warmth of it, even from several feet away. What must it be like to be on the receiving end of a smile like that on a regular basis? He bent over and scooped the pumpkin up from its perch on the hay bale, and headed towards where Tracy stood, at the cash register.
The woman bounded ahead of him excitedly and addressed Tracy directly, “Hi. Have you got a loo around here somewhere? I’m dying and this one wouldn’t stop on the way.” Ah, not excitedly then, but because she had to pee.
“Sure, straight back there,” she pointed, “past the office.”
“Ta!” the blonde woman said cheerfully and scampered past.
She looked at the tall man in front of her, precariously holding a heavy pumpkin with one hand while he searched a pocket of his coat with the other, presumably looking for money.
She took the pumpkin off him and set it on the scale by the register. “Lemme guess,” she ventured, thinking it couldn’t hurt to take a stab at it, “Newlyweds? Your first Halloween together?”
The man looked almost wistful as he glanced in the direction the girl had gone. “Uh, no. We’re not married.”
Of course not-she mentally berated herself-no ring! How’d she missed that? “I’m sorry. It’s a thing I do… guessing. You two just seem so…” she trailed off, not wanting to blurt out her thoughts and embarrass herself in front of a complete stranger.
His eyes twinkled with curiosity, though, and he didn’t seem bothered. “So… what?”
“Um. In love,” she half-mumbled.
He immediately stopped fumbling through his pockets. For a moment he said nothing, and then he smiled. “Do we?” He looked genuinely surprised. Not by the truth of her statement, she was sure, but by the fact that it was apparently so obvious to onlookers.
Tracy nodded, and bit her lip slightly, embarrassed anyhow.
“Well,” he said, overjoyed, as he finally fished some money out of a pocket and placed the crumpled dollars in her hand. “Don’t tell her that,” he nodded in the direction of the bathroom, “she’d never let me hear the end of it.”
FIN