SCENT
fandom: Doctor Who/Sanctuary ( verbalize)
title: Scent
author: playerpin
word count: 700
rating: PG
When the Doctor woke up, there was an overwhelming smell of organic soap and lily that he was quite sure hadn't been there when he went to sleep.
He looked down at Helen, who'd apparently woken up before him. Somehow, she'd gone and taken a bath, and yet, he didn't feel like she'd gone anywhere, and he hadn't woken up. Her hair smelled of lavender and lily shampoo, and she'd switched her soaps, from what he could tell from last time they'd cuddled together. She chuckled when she saw his dazed face, combing his bangs out of his eyes. "You always claim that everyone else needs to rest, but you don't take your own advice." She explained simply, and he sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, breathing in a deep breath and shaking his head free of grogginess. Helen raised her eyebrows with her trademark smile, and as infectious as it was, the Doctor started to laugh softly.
"I don't take my own advice because I only need a few hours of sleep," he reminded her, the warm covers falling off of him, causing a slight chill up his spine. "You lot need more. Ten, eleven?"
"Nine," she corrected him, placing her bookmark inside of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. She'd read it so much the pages were starting to get a bit dog-eared and folded, she tried to keep it in a good condition. Helen looked over at the Doctor, examining him from afar, watching as he inspected himself. He rarely took off his jacket, and it was even rarer that he took off his bowtie, but he had. Possibly to keep comfortable, possibly to show her how low his boundaries were. Even if hers were still relatively high.
Helen stood, wrapping her robe around her slim figure. Like a puppy, the Doctor pulled his bowtie on and followed her-for her to look back at him and give him a Look.
"What?"
She raised her eyebrows at him.
The Doctor blinked. "Oh! ... no, really, what?"
Helen chuckled, out of exasperation or just plain disbelief. "Privacy." She said simply, closing the bathroom door behind her.
He stared at the door, opening his mouth, before looking down and scratching the back of his head. Ah. That's what she meant.
The Doctor paced around the room as he waited, knowing that his braces and his jacket were in there. He needed them back before he took off again, after all, most planets were fairly chilly. Well, the planets he had on his to-do list, which, to be honest, could change very easily. Maybe he'd visit Pyrovilia, they were happy to have their planet back...
Helen rested her back against the door for a moment, thinking, arms folded. When the morning came, it usually meant the Doctor left. Staying was out of the question unless there were more pressing matters, and that was usually when he was injured or the Sanctuary was in danger. Not like this. Helen had accepted it, but that didn't mean she liked it. She, however, couldn't ask him to stay. He couldn't. He wouldn't. And he had a job to do, just like she did. His job just happened to be in the one place she wouldn't be able to casually visit: space.
"Helen?" He knocked on the door after several minutes. "I need my braces. And... my coat. Could you-well, whenever you have the time."
She glanced over at the tweed jacket hanging from a coat hanger, taking it and the braces. The overwhelming aroma of engine oil and metal hit her nose, and Helen fisted her hands in the material, gazing down at the patterns made by woven thread. He'd be back. She believed him now; she believed him when he said he'd come back. A soft smile graced her face, before she opened the door and offered the clothes to him. And before he could speak again, she closed the door.
The Doctor stared blankly, before he chuckled and smiled and strode over to sit on the bed. He wasn't going to swagger off just yet.
"Your new shampoo smells lovely, you should use it more often!" He called, flopping onto his back.
title: Scent
author: playerpin
word count: 700
rating: PG
When the Doctor woke up, there was an overwhelming smell of organic soap and lily that he was quite sure hadn't been there when he went to sleep.
He looked down at Helen, who'd apparently woken up before him. Somehow, she'd gone and taken a bath, and yet, he didn't feel like she'd gone anywhere, and he hadn't woken up. Her hair smelled of lavender and lily shampoo, and she'd switched her soaps, from what he could tell from last time they'd cuddled together. She chuckled when she saw his dazed face, combing his bangs out of his eyes. "You always claim that everyone else needs to rest, but you don't take your own advice." She explained simply, and he sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, breathing in a deep breath and shaking his head free of grogginess. Helen raised her eyebrows with her trademark smile, and as infectious as it was, the Doctor started to laugh softly.
"I don't take my own advice because I only need a few hours of sleep," he reminded her, the warm covers falling off of him, causing a slight chill up his spine. "You lot need more. Ten, eleven?"
"Nine," she corrected him, placing her bookmark inside of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. She'd read it so much the pages were starting to get a bit dog-eared and folded, she tried to keep it in a good condition. Helen looked over at the Doctor, examining him from afar, watching as he inspected himself. He rarely took off his jacket, and it was even rarer that he took off his bowtie, but he had. Possibly to keep comfortable, possibly to show her how low his boundaries were. Even if hers were still relatively high.
Helen stood, wrapping her robe around her slim figure. Like a puppy, the Doctor pulled his bowtie on and followed her-for her to look back at him and give him a Look.
"What?"
She raised her eyebrows at him.
The Doctor blinked. "Oh! ... no, really, what?"
Helen chuckled, out of exasperation or just plain disbelief. "Privacy." She said simply, closing the bathroom door behind her.
He stared at the door, opening his mouth, before looking down and scratching the back of his head. Ah. That's what she meant.
The Doctor paced around the room as he waited, knowing that his braces and his jacket were in there. He needed them back before he took off again, after all, most planets were fairly chilly. Well, the planets he had on his to-do list, which, to be honest, could change very easily. Maybe he'd visit Pyrovilia, they were happy to have their planet back...
Helen rested her back against the door for a moment, thinking, arms folded. When the morning came, it usually meant the Doctor left. Staying was out of the question unless there were more pressing matters, and that was usually when he was injured or the Sanctuary was in danger. Not like this. Helen had accepted it, but that didn't mean she liked it. She, however, couldn't ask him to stay. He couldn't. He wouldn't. And he had a job to do, just like she did. His job just happened to be in the one place she wouldn't be able to casually visit: space.
"Helen?" He knocked on the door after several minutes. "I need my braces. And... my coat. Could you-well, whenever you have the time."
She glanced over at the tweed jacket hanging from a coat hanger, taking it and the braces. The overwhelming aroma of engine oil and metal hit her nose, and Helen fisted her hands in the material, gazing down at the patterns made by woven thread. He'd be back. She believed him now; she believed him when he said he'd come back. A soft smile graced her face, before she opened the door and offered the clothes to him. And before he could speak again, she closed the door.
The Doctor stared blankly, before he chuckled and smiled and strode over to sit on the bed. He wasn't going to swagger off just yet.
"Your new shampoo smells lovely, you should use it more often!" He called, flopping onto his back.