Woolly Mammoths
Title: Woolly Mammoths.
Fandom: Doctor Who 2005.
Pairing: Doctor/Rose.
Rating: G.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, Doctor Who, and all respective characters are the property of the British Broadcasting Company. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I write constantly, but lately it seems like I can never commit to anything long enough to actually finish it. What’s up with that? I have countless other half-finished DW/TW fics sitting on my hard drive. Maybe a few of them will eventually see the light of day.
~*~
"Better?" he asks. Rose scrunches up her nose in distaste. The Doctor turns back to the mirror and continues fiddling with his hair. Just to see her make that face again, he pulls at it until it's sticking straight up. "What about now?" She throws her head back and laughs loudly, exposing the pale, delicate column of her throat. The Doctor swallows, hard.
"Give it here," Rose demands once she calms down, one hand on her hip and the other outstretched in front of her. The Doctor reluctantly hands over the tub of hair cream. "Now sit."
The TARDIS probably has close to a hundred bathrooms, but of course he had to pick the smallest one for this endeavor. The only place for him to sit is on the low countertop, and Rose is left with no choice but to step in-between his legs. If it's making her the least bit uncomfortable, she doesn't show it, content instead on rubbing the cream brusquely between her hands.
"You do this on purpose," she says accusingly. The Doctor flashes her a grin that's supposed to be innocent, but she knows him far too well for that, and fixes him with a glare in return.
"It's been a long time since I've had hair!" he protests. Rose leans forward.
"Well we can't have you walking around looking like a woolly mammoth, now can we?" she says. Her hands go up to his head and begin combing through his hair, smoothing it into place.
"Woolly mammoth, eh?" he teases. Rose grins.
"It was the first thing I thought of. Mum used to say it to me when I was little and refused to let her comb my hair."
"Oh, you must've been a handful." Her smile is sad.
"Yeah. Took after my dad that way." They fall silent. The Doctor's hair has been quite sufficiently tamed, but she leaves her hands where the are, lightly massaging his scalp. His eyes drift closed, enjoying the sensation. They're quite close, and he can hear the flutter of her single heart; feel her warm breath on his neck; smell the gentle perfume of her shampoo.
When his eyes open again, she's staring directly at him. Her hands come to rest at the base of his neck, fingers gently stroking his hairline. "Hello," she says. The Doctor breaks into a grin.
"Hello," he responds brightly. Rose giggles, he tongue darting out to lick the top row of her teeth. The following silence is thick and heavy. The Doctor squirms. "I've seen woolly mammoths before, you know," he says. Her eyes light up.
"Really?" she exclaims breathlessly.
"Oh, yes. Beautiful creatures, the lot of 'em - huge, and strong...maybe a bit scruffy." Smiling, he pats his neatly-groomed hair, cranes his neck to see it in the mirror behind him. "I don't look half bad!" he crows. Rose socks him in the shoulder with her tiny fist.
"You look proper," she says. "Just keep your gob shut for a few minutes and you might just fool somebody into believing it. Now come on - I want to see a woolly mammoth!" She takes his hand and pulls him off of the counter, headed for the TARDIS' center console. The Doctor follows without complaint.
Fandom: Doctor Who 2005.
Pairing: Doctor/Rose.
Rating: G.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, Doctor Who, and all respective characters are the property of the British Broadcasting Company. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I write constantly, but lately it seems like I can never commit to anything long enough to actually finish it. What’s up with that? I have countless other half-finished DW/TW fics sitting on my hard drive. Maybe a few of them will eventually see the light of day.
~*~
"Better?" he asks. Rose scrunches up her nose in distaste. The Doctor turns back to the mirror and continues fiddling with his hair. Just to see her make that face again, he pulls at it until it's sticking straight up. "What about now?" She throws her head back and laughs loudly, exposing the pale, delicate column of her throat. The Doctor swallows, hard.
"Give it here," Rose demands once she calms down, one hand on her hip and the other outstretched in front of her. The Doctor reluctantly hands over the tub of hair cream. "Now sit."
The TARDIS probably has close to a hundred bathrooms, but of course he had to pick the smallest one for this endeavor. The only place for him to sit is on the low countertop, and Rose is left with no choice but to step in-between his legs. If it's making her the least bit uncomfortable, she doesn't show it, content instead on rubbing the cream brusquely between her hands.
"You do this on purpose," she says accusingly. The Doctor flashes her a grin that's supposed to be innocent, but she knows him far too well for that, and fixes him with a glare in return.
"It's been a long time since I've had hair!" he protests. Rose leans forward.
"Well we can't have you walking around looking like a woolly mammoth, now can we?" she says. Her hands go up to his head and begin combing through his hair, smoothing it into place.
"Woolly mammoth, eh?" he teases. Rose grins.
"It was the first thing I thought of. Mum used to say it to me when I was little and refused to let her comb my hair."
"Oh, you must've been a handful." Her smile is sad.
"Yeah. Took after my dad that way." They fall silent. The Doctor's hair has been quite sufficiently tamed, but she leaves her hands where the are, lightly massaging his scalp. His eyes drift closed, enjoying the sensation. They're quite close, and he can hear the flutter of her single heart; feel her warm breath on his neck; smell the gentle perfume of her shampoo.
When his eyes open again, she's staring directly at him. Her hands come to rest at the base of his neck, fingers gently stroking his hairline. "Hello," she says. The Doctor breaks into a grin.
"Hello," he responds brightly. Rose giggles, he tongue darting out to lick the top row of her teeth. The following silence is thick and heavy. The Doctor squirms. "I've seen woolly mammoths before, you know," he says. Her eyes light up.
"Really?" she exclaims breathlessly.
"Oh, yes. Beautiful creatures, the lot of 'em - huge, and strong...maybe a bit scruffy." Smiling, he pats his neatly-groomed hair, cranes his neck to see it in the mirror behind him. "I don't look half bad!" he crows. Rose socks him in the shoulder with her tiny fist.
"You look proper," she says. "Just keep your gob shut for a few minutes and you might just fool somebody into believing it. Now come on - I want to see a woolly mammoth!" She takes his hand and pulls him off of the counter, headed for the TARDIS' center console. The Doctor follows without complaint.