Last night after I got back from grandma's I sat down and wrote this little thing while watching Christmas specials. It's been a while since I last wrote something on Christmas, so I thought why not. Anyway, mum's got some delicious food in the oven and is asking me for help. Hope you like it. Merry Christmas y'all! :)
domestic Christmas
Ten/Rose | G | 812 words | no major spoilers, i suppose. set right after The Christmas Invasion
“Oh, no,” the Doctor says, putting his empty cup aside. “No, no, no, no. Rose Tyler, you’re not pulling me into this trap.”
“Oh, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes and tugging on his left arm. “It’ll be fun.”
“Why don’t you go with Mickey?” he suggests, trying to get away from her grip.
“He doesn’t want to come with me,” she says simply, a little quieter, shrugging and looking away for a brief moment. “Come on, Doctor, please,” she asks, looking back at him with those big doe eyes of hers.
The Doctor feels one of his hearts skip a bit, something awkward inside his chest, and before he knows it he’s nodding and getting up from the couch. “Okay,” he says, taking her hand.
--
They take a bus downtown and get off at Trafalgar Square. It’s almost dark and the Christmas lights are already up, all the shops bursting with people. Rose links her arm with the Doctor’s and they walk mindlessly through the square, staring at all the lights and Christmas trees and families walking around in warm clothes with arms full of bags.
She spots a café a couple of streets down the square and kind of jumps in excitment, looking up at the Doctor and grinning. She doesn’t even have to ask, this time, he just nods and walks up to the door, holds it open for her like a gentleman.
She lets go of his arm, still grinning, and says, “Go on, get us a table. I’ll get us drinks.”
He rounds the tables and chooses one by the window, sits down and watches her standing with her back to him, talking to the barista. He places both his hands on top of the table and taps a mindless rhythm on it, smiles sort of stupidly to himself.
It’s all these domestic things she does, he thinks, not even aware that she’s doing it -- but what really terrifies the hell out of him is the fact that he’s okay with it, most of the times. All she has to do is flash him a smile, or stare with those big brown eyes, and he’s down to it.
“What’s this?” he asks as she hands him a papercup, sitting down in front of him. He sniffs it and scrunches up his face, looking doubtfully at it.
Rose takes off her hat and gloves, smiling. “It’s eggnog,” she says, taking her cup in both hands. “Had to talk that man into making it for me, since they don’t sell it, but I managed.”
She winks playfully at him and he twists his lips into a disapproving pout before he can notice. If she notices it, she hides it well, for she just smiles at him again and lifts her cup a little, says, “Merry Christmas, Doctor.”
“Merry Christmas, Rose Tyler,” he says, smiling back and watching her as she takes a sip from her cup, taking one himself. He winces a little, makes a face at the taste and puts the cup on the floor next to him. Rose giggles, taking another large gulp of hers. “What is it?” he asks, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand, frowning.
“It’s eggnog,” Rose repeats. “Christmas drink, it’s kind of traditional,” she explains, smiling in amusement at the Doctor’s face.
“It tastes like eggs,” he says, face still scrunched up.
“Well, eggnog,” she rolls her eyes playfully, giggling again. “It tastes better after you get used to it, come on,” she gives him an encouraging smile, then, placing her cup to the side as the Doctor takes his back and takes a careful sip.
He doesn’t wince this time, but he does make a disgusted face.
“Okay, maybe not,” Rose giggles again, reaching out to grab his cup. “You can leave it, give it to me,” she says, taking the cup from him.
“Ugh,” he says, cleaning his mouth again. “Thanks.”
“D’you want a cup of tea?” she asks next, holding his cup with both hands and playing with it mindlessly.
“No, I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head. “Thank you.”
She nods, smiling at him again, and he smiles back, just like that, trying to recall when did he become all smiley. He can’t help it, though, so he just takes his eyes away from her and jumps to his feet. “So,” he says, still smiling. “Better get back before Jackie Tyler thinks I kidnapped you on Christmas,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement as she stands up as well, leaving his cup next to hers on the table.
He extends a hand to her and she reaches her own out, letting her gloves lie forgotten on her jacket pocket and linking their fingers together. Still smiling, he pulls her with him and they leave the shop, strolling back to the bus stop.