Gherkins - PG
Title: Gherkins
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG for implied dodgy thoughts about Gherkins.
Summary: For fanfic100, Prompt 57 - Lunch. Jack can't understand why the Doctor lets Rose each so much pickle.
Rose had never liked pickle until she started dating Mickey. She’d actively made a point of steering clear of it whenever she could.
Then it was as if someone had flipped a switch, and she began to like it. Really like it. She sometimes wondered if it was just her subconscious deciding it was easier to like the stuff than it was to have yet another argument over how Mickey needed to brush his teeth after lunch again.
She hummed happily to herself as she spread more Branston on her sandwich.
“What’s that?” Jack asked, sliding up behind her and peeking over her shoulder as she cut the bread.
“Pork and Pickle sandwich,” Rose said cheerfully, popping the sandwich onto a plate with a couple of pickled onions and a rather large gherkin.
“What?” Jack grabbed the jar of Branston she’d set aside as she slipped out from between him and the counter and moved over to the table, where the Doctor was drinking a cup of disgustingly sweet tea and pretending read a book.
He twisted the lid off and scooped out a bit of the pickle with his finger, tasting it. He screwed up his face and coughed slightly, slamming the lid back on the jar and pushing it away.
“God!” he said. “That’s strong!”
“Oh don’t be a baby,” Rose chided, tucking into her sandwich. “It’s not that bad.”
“It is! And I can smell the vinegar from all that over here,” Jack wrinkled his nose. “How can you let her eat that, Doc?”
“He doesn’t let me eat anything!” Rose said indignantly. “I mean…He doesn’t say what I can and can’t eat!”
Jack snorted.
“Gherkins,” said the Doctor simply.
“What?” Jack asked, while Rose carried on eating with an air of wounded dignity.
“Gherkins,” the Doctor said again. He glanced up at Jack, grinning. “You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what?” Jack glanced at Rose. “I’m serious; you’d better brush your teeth before I kiss you.”
“Oh I know that argument,” she muttered.
“Get some gum or something,” Jack said.
Silence fell as Rose polished off the sandwich. She reached for the gherkin and the Doctor kicked Jack under the table.
Jack glanced at him, and the Doctor inclined his head subtly towards Rose. They watched as she lifted the gherkin and sucked the vinegar off it, tongue darting out to catch the drops that were trailing down her fingers, before biting into it with a satisfied crunch.
“Oh,” Jack said finally. “Gherkins.”
Rose glanced at him.
“What?”
“Never mind,” the Doctor told her cheerfully. “You enjoy your lunch.”
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG for implied dodgy thoughts about Gherkins.
Summary: For fanfic100, Prompt 57 - Lunch. Jack can't understand why the Doctor lets Rose each so much pickle.
Rose had never liked pickle until she started dating Mickey. She’d actively made a point of steering clear of it whenever she could.
Then it was as if someone had flipped a switch, and she began to like it. Really like it. She sometimes wondered if it was just her subconscious deciding it was easier to like the stuff than it was to have yet another argument over how Mickey needed to brush his teeth after lunch again.
She hummed happily to herself as she spread more Branston on her sandwich.
“What’s that?” Jack asked, sliding up behind her and peeking over her shoulder as she cut the bread.
“Pork and Pickle sandwich,” Rose said cheerfully, popping the sandwich onto a plate with a couple of pickled onions and a rather large gherkin.
“What?” Jack grabbed the jar of Branston she’d set aside as she slipped out from between him and the counter and moved over to the table, where the Doctor was drinking a cup of disgustingly sweet tea and pretending read a book.
He twisted the lid off and scooped out a bit of the pickle with his finger, tasting it. He screwed up his face and coughed slightly, slamming the lid back on the jar and pushing it away.
“God!” he said. “That’s strong!”
“Oh don’t be a baby,” Rose chided, tucking into her sandwich. “It’s not that bad.”
“It is! And I can smell the vinegar from all that over here,” Jack wrinkled his nose. “How can you let her eat that, Doc?”
“He doesn’t let me eat anything!” Rose said indignantly. “I mean…He doesn’t say what I can and can’t eat!”
Jack snorted.
“Gherkins,” said the Doctor simply.
“What?” Jack asked, while Rose carried on eating with an air of wounded dignity.
“Gherkins,” the Doctor said again. He glanced up at Jack, grinning. “You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what?” Jack glanced at Rose. “I’m serious; you’d better brush your teeth before I kiss you.”
“Oh I know that argument,” she muttered.
“Get some gum or something,” Jack said.
Silence fell as Rose polished off the sandwich. She reached for the gherkin and the Doctor kicked Jack under the table.
Jack glanced at him, and the Doctor inclined his head subtly towards Rose. They watched as she lifted the gherkin and sucked the vinegar off it, tongue darting out to catch the drops that were trailing down her fingers, before biting into it with a satisfied crunch.
“Oh,” Jack said finally. “Gherkins.”
Rose glanced at him.
“What?”
“Never mind,” the Doctor told her cheerfully. “You enjoy your lunch.”