Fic: The curiosities
Title: The curiosities
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Summary: He understood much about them from the way they interacted with each other. He may have been a dealer of inanimate objects, but as a salesman, a businessman and an antiquities buyer, he knew a thing or two about people. As an old man who had seen the world, he knew about life; and as a Frenchman, well… He knew a thing or two about love.
Word count: 1,104
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. “Not nobody, not nohow…”
A/N: Prompted by Challenge 43 at then_theres_us (Series Two Happy) + photo under cut
The old man glanced up from his dusting in the shop window to see two young people spilling out of a blue box. They were laughing and-he noted-strangely dressed for the warm weather. The man in the long brown coat had his hands around the young woman’s waist and she stumbled before him, twisting her neck to catch his eye. The man pointed up to the sign above the storefront and said something that made the girl nod enthusiastically but which the old man could not hear.
The little bell above the shop door chimed cheerily as the pair strode across his threshold.
“’Curiouser and curiouser,’” said the girl, pointedly as she glanced around the shop. Her companion behind her chuckled and shook his head.
“’The oysters were curious…’” He said, waggling his eyebrows competitively.
“Um… Er. Wait! ‘Curiosity killed the cat!’” She beamed and pushed her chin up at him. His eyes crinkled back in response and he took a breath to respond. She poked him in the ribs, “That’s it, I’m tapped out.”
“But wait! I’ve got more! Lots more!” He whined.
“I’m sure you ‘ave,” said the girl as she arched her eyebrow, “but I don’t.”
“Oh, come on-aren’t you…curious to hear them?” He prodded, smirking at his own horrible pun.
She rolled her eyes at him. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He smiled rakishly at her. “I give up.” She continued, “But let’s face it: You always win in the Useless Facts and Running Your Gob Department-In fact, now that I think of it, you also win in the Complete Nutter Depart-“
“Oi!” He held his finger up to her in a mock reproach. “That’s just rude, Miss Tyler-didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?!”
“Only elders that are respectable!” She teased and she tousled his hair, twisted loose from his grip and bounded off through the shop. The man in the coat ran his hand through his hair to right the mess she’d made and gave a polite nod to the shopkeeper, who had paused in his dusting to watch the pair. In an instant the man was mesmerized by something that caught his eye at the back of the shop. “Rose, come look at this!” He called after her, striding quickly away toward the back of the shop.
The merchant allowed them their privacy to browse and kept himself to his task of dusting away from them at the front of his store, but watched the pair surreptitiously in the mirrors and reflections of various objects. He watched as you might study a delighted child in a crowded public place, or a handsome couple at a café completely absorbed in each other without care or notice of the outside world.
While he could not hear them from where he was, he understood much about them from the way they interacted with each other. He may have been a dealer of inanimate objects, but as a salesman, a businessman and an antiquities buyer, he knew a thing or two about people. As an old man who had seen the world, he knew about life; and as a Frenchman, well… He knew a thing or two about love.
He noticed the way the man led her around the shop, talking animatedly about this or that object and having her hold and inspect each one as he talked to her. He seemed proud of what he knew, but in a way that showed he wished to fill her up with his knowledge, rather than to preserve a distance. It seemed he believed that it was the only currency he possessed that he could barter with. He appeared to give everything to her first, as if he could only feel his world through her. Yet his seriousness was tempered with playfulness and his wonderment with his world increased as it was filtered through her lighthearted awe. Far from being intimidated or put off by his torrent of words and energy, the girl regarded him with both softness and amazement, as though he were the rarest treasure in the world and was speechless at the impossibility of his existence. To her, each moment with him was a precious gift, renewed and rediscovered with every passing breath.
However, the pantomime of protector/mentor and submissive/student belied the profound intimacy between them, for the old man could tell that she was no inferior. Indeed, from the way the man gazed at her when her head was turned the shopkeeper could tell that the man could refuse her nothing. It was she that led him, although the old man guessed that she would neither realize this nor exploit it. Both were vastly yet equally grateful for the other, but neither could fully recognize how it bonded them.
They were neither harsh nor coarse with each other, and their manner revealed deep respect and acceptance. They bent toward each other like flowers toward the sun; huddling together as if to be apart would fling them to opposite sides of the universe, like opposing magnets. However she did amplify his roguishness, and the old man watched his bravado play out against her impish teasing like a high stakes game of poker: Both saw and raised with light touches and sly glances, and doubled down with unabashed stares and flushed faces.
They looked at each other with unasked questions in their eyes. They answered not with words, but with the smiles in their eyes, the laughter in their gestures and the kisses in their touch. They seemed completely ordinary but entirely magical, just like any other couple in love.
They didn’t buy anything, but that didn’t matter to the old man, for they had given him something priceless anyway. They had allowed him to watch them-like the joyful child in the park or the lovers at the café-in an unguarded moment. He watched for the reason we all do: Because it gives us satisfaction from seeing, and for a fleeting moment, we are pulled into their secret bubble where we may bask in the light of their happiness, and our day is brighter for it.
Alone again in his store, the old man went about his afternoon, dreamily humming and smiling contentedly to himself, lost in the misty memories of his own youth. Indeed, he was so caught up, he failed to notice the couple’s peculiar blue box shudder and blink slowly out of existence mere feet from his shop. He didn’t hear the engines; he was too mislaid by the spell of his reverie. They never came back, but he never forgot them.
Author: psyfi_geekgirl
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Summary: He understood much about them from the way they interacted with each other. He may have been a dealer of inanimate objects, but as a salesman, a businessman and an antiquities buyer, he knew a thing or two about people. As an old man who had seen the world, he knew about life; and as a Frenchman, well… He knew a thing or two about love.
Word count: 1,104
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. “Not nobody, not nohow…”
A/N: Prompted by Challenge 43 at then_theres_us (Series Two Happy) + photo under cut
The old man glanced up from his dusting in the shop window to see two young people spilling out of a blue box. They were laughing and-he noted-strangely dressed for the warm weather. The man in the long brown coat had his hands around the young woman’s waist and she stumbled before him, twisting her neck to catch his eye. The man pointed up to the sign above the storefront and said something that made the girl nod enthusiastically but which the old man could not hear.
The little bell above the shop door chimed cheerily as the pair strode across his threshold.
“’Curiouser and curiouser,’” said the girl, pointedly as she glanced around the shop. Her companion behind her chuckled and shook his head.
“’The oysters were curious…’” He said, waggling his eyebrows competitively.
“Um… Er. Wait! ‘Curiosity killed the cat!’” She beamed and pushed her chin up at him. His eyes crinkled back in response and he took a breath to respond. She poked him in the ribs, “That’s it, I’m tapped out.”
“But wait! I’ve got more! Lots more!” He whined.
“I’m sure you ‘ave,” said the girl as she arched her eyebrow, “but I don’t.”
“Oh, come on-aren’t you…curious to hear them?” He prodded, smirking at his own horrible pun.
She rolled her eyes at him. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He smiled rakishly at her. “I give up.” She continued, “But let’s face it: You always win in the Useless Facts and Running Your Gob Department-In fact, now that I think of it, you also win in the Complete Nutter Depart-“
“Oi!” He held his finger up to her in a mock reproach. “That’s just rude, Miss Tyler-didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?!”
“Only elders that are respectable!” She teased and she tousled his hair, twisted loose from his grip and bounded off through the shop. The man in the coat ran his hand through his hair to right the mess she’d made and gave a polite nod to the shopkeeper, who had paused in his dusting to watch the pair. In an instant the man was mesmerized by something that caught his eye at the back of the shop. “Rose, come look at this!” He called after her, striding quickly away toward the back of the shop.
The merchant allowed them their privacy to browse and kept himself to his task of dusting away from them at the front of his store, but watched the pair surreptitiously in the mirrors and reflections of various objects. He watched as you might study a delighted child in a crowded public place, or a handsome couple at a café completely absorbed in each other without care or notice of the outside world.
While he could not hear them from where he was, he understood much about them from the way they interacted with each other. He may have been a dealer of inanimate objects, but as a salesman, a businessman and an antiquities buyer, he knew a thing or two about people. As an old man who had seen the world, he knew about life; and as a Frenchman, well… He knew a thing or two about love.
He noticed the way the man led her around the shop, talking animatedly about this or that object and having her hold and inspect each one as he talked to her. He seemed proud of what he knew, but in a way that showed he wished to fill her up with his knowledge, rather than to preserve a distance. It seemed he believed that it was the only currency he possessed that he could barter with. He appeared to give everything to her first, as if he could only feel his world through her. Yet his seriousness was tempered with playfulness and his wonderment with his world increased as it was filtered through her lighthearted awe. Far from being intimidated or put off by his torrent of words and energy, the girl regarded him with both softness and amazement, as though he were the rarest treasure in the world and was speechless at the impossibility of his existence. To her, each moment with him was a precious gift, renewed and rediscovered with every passing breath.
However, the pantomime of protector/mentor and submissive/student belied the profound intimacy between them, for the old man could tell that she was no inferior. Indeed, from the way the man gazed at her when her head was turned the shopkeeper could tell that the man could refuse her nothing. It was she that led him, although the old man guessed that she would neither realize this nor exploit it. Both were vastly yet equally grateful for the other, but neither could fully recognize how it bonded them.
They were neither harsh nor coarse with each other, and their manner revealed deep respect and acceptance. They bent toward each other like flowers toward the sun; huddling together as if to be apart would fling them to opposite sides of the universe, like opposing magnets. However she did amplify his roguishness, and the old man watched his bravado play out against her impish teasing like a high stakes game of poker: Both saw and raised with light touches and sly glances, and doubled down with unabashed stares and flushed faces.
They looked at each other with unasked questions in their eyes. They answered not with words, but with the smiles in their eyes, the laughter in their gestures and the kisses in their touch. They seemed completely ordinary but entirely magical, just like any other couple in love.
They didn’t buy anything, but that didn’t matter to the old man, for they had given him something priceless anyway. They had allowed him to watch them-like the joyful child in the park or the lovers at the café-in an unguarded moment. He watched for the reason we all do: Because it gives us satisfaction from seeing, and for a fleeting moment, we are pulled into their secret bubble where we may bask in the light of their happiness, and our day is brighter for it.
Alone again in his store, the old man went about his afternoon, dreamily humming and smiling contentedly to himself, lost in the misty memories of his own youth. Indeed, he was so caught up, he failed to notice the couple’s peculiar blue box shudder and blink slowly out of existence mere feet from his shop. He didn’t hear the engines; he was too mislaid by the spell of his reverie. They never came back, but he never forgot them.