(no subject)
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, 10/Rose, G
Summary: Rose and the Doctor make a pit stop.
Inspired by sapphire_child 's prompt: “There is a ridiculous amount of gum underneath this table.”, 774 words
“There is a ridiculous amount of gum underneath this table.” the Doctor leaned forward on the bench to better spread his fingers underneath the laminated tabletop. “Really, it’s almost epic. I mean, there is a lot of gum under here. I’m pretty sure we could take a core sample and calculate dates by the petrification of the layers.”
“Mmmmmmmm.” was Rose’s only response. She sat in the diner booth with her feet up in the seat and her back against the wall. Rose closed her eyes and lolled her head to rest her forehead on her knees.
“You would think 1956 America would be more respectful of their belongings. Isn’t this supposed to be that wonderful time when everyone had money and little pink houses? Didn’t all children defer to their elders, drink malteds after school and shine their saddle shoes before bed every night? Am I missing a brief period in which American youth rebelled against authority by sticking their chewing gum underneath flat surfaces? I wonder if they had little badges that signified who discarded the most gum. I’d have little badges. Maybe even a tiny note to stick to the gum, you know? Id Balsamum Meus. Catchy, isn’t it? Rose?” He looked up to see his companion apparently comatose on the other side of the table.
“Rose? Rose? Rose?” With each repetition of her name he leaned closer to her side of the booth. “Rose? Rosie posie pudding and pie? Rose of my heart, apple of my eye? Rose of all roses? Rose of the world?” the Doctor had resorted to waving his hands and poking her down-turned head (not entirely gently) to get her attention. “Are you not well? You can tell me, I'm a doctor. Did you get hit by one of the shiny rock aliens? I mean, I know one was hitting on you, but did he hit you? Oh god, you’re not lovesick, are you? Because that is not the kind of relationship I think a girl like you needs in her life right now. I mean, think of the family dinners. Your mother would have to burn everything to carbon so he could ingest it! But that wouldn’t really be a problem, would it? I’m being very witty up here. You should join me.”
“Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” said Rose, shaking her head slightly.
The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver to scan her vital signs, which was apparently a last straw.
“Tired. ‘M just tired, okay?” Rose said, annoyed, finally lifting her head. “I haven’t slept in days, my hair’s a mess and I have rock dust in places no one should ever have rock dust, alright? I just want to go to sleep, preferably in a shower. And Theo was a very nice rock alien. And mum does not burn food. Often. I don’t need you to sonic me, I just need a nap.”
“Oh, Rose,” the Doctor sat back down on his side of the booth. “I know you’re tired. That’s why I brought us here. You see, this place has the one thing Rose Tyler needs to fully recover from any bad situation.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that, then?”
“Chips,” The Doctor’s self-satisfied grin could probably be seen from the next county. “And not just any chips, either. These are the best chips in the universe. And they come with cheese. And sometimes...bacon.” The last word was whispered conspiratorially, as if spreading the secret would cause it to no longer exist.
“Ooooooh, chips.” Enthusiasm had crept back into her voice, albeit a quiet enthusiasm.
“Milkshakes, too. I love a good milkshake, you know. Banana, of course, but I’m sure there are others. What do you say: chips and milkshakes and a brisk jog back to the TARDIS? I’m thinking we explore the wide and wonderous world of disco next.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve always wondered how fast I could run in bell-bottoms. I’m game, as long as they have showers in the 70’s. Now, chips. Lots and lots of chips.”
“Your wish is my command.” said the Doctor, who got up and returned minutes later with what must have been the biggest plate Rose had ever seen, absolutely loaded with chips, dripping nuclear orange cheese, and topped with at least a rasher of crumbled bacon. “Fries,” he said, in his best southern american accent, “and lots of ‘em.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” said Rose, happier by the second. “See? This is why I travel with you. Chips. And your fantastic taste in suits, but mostly the chips.”
“I wouldn't have it any other way.” the Doctor said with a smile.
*A/N* The latin phrase up there translates to ‘that's my gum.’ Or at least, that’s what the internet’s latin dictionaries would have me believe. It’s probably not grammatically correct in any way. Google can be fickle. The title is from the last Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book by Douglas Adams.
Summary: Rose and the Doctor make a pit stop.
Inspired by sapphire_child 's prompt: “There is a ridiculous amount of gum underneath this table.”, 774 words
“There is a ridiculous amount of gum underneath this table.” the Doctor leaned forward on the bench to better spread his fingers underneath the laminated tabletop. “Really, it’s almost epic. I mean, there is a lot of gum under here. I’m pretty sure we could take a core sample and calculate dates by the petrification of the layers.”
“Mmmmmmmm.” was Rose’s only response. She sat in the diner booth with her feet up in the seat and her back against the wall. Rose closed her eyes and lolled her head to rest her forehead on her knees.
“You would think 1956 America would be more respectful of their belongings. Isn’t this supposed to be that wonderful time when everyone had money and little pink houses? Didn’t all children defer to their elders, drink malteds after school and shine their saddle shoes before bed every night? Am I missing a brief period in which American youth rebelled against authority by sticking their chewing gum underneath flat surfaces? I wonder if they had little badges that signified who discarded the most gum. I’d have little badges. Maybe even a tiny note to stick to the gum, you know? Id Balsamum Meus. Catchy, isn’t it? Rose?” He looked up to see his companion apparently comatose on the other side of the table.
“Rose? Rose? Rose?” With each repetition of her name he leaned closer to her side of the booth. “Rose? Rosie posie pudding and pie? Rose of my heart, apple of my eye? Rose of all roses? Rose of the world?” the Doctor had resorted to waving his hands and poking her down-turned head (not entirely gently) to get her attention. “Are you not well? You can tell me, I'm a doctor. Did you get hit by one of the shiny rock aliens? I mean, I know one was hitting on you, but did he hit you? Oh god, you’re not lovesick, are you? Because that is not the kind of relationship I think a girl like you needs in her life right now. I mean, think of the family dinners. Your mother would have to burn everything to carbon so he could ingest it! But that wouldn’t really be a problem, would it? I’m being very witty up here. You should join me.”
“Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” said Rose, shaking her head slightly.
The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver to scan her vital signs, which was apparently a last straw.
“Tired. ‘M just tired, okay?” Rose said, annoyed, finally lifting her head. “I haven’t slept in days, my hair’s a mess and I have rock dust in places no one should ever have rock dust, alright? I just want to go to sleep, preferably in a shower. And Theo was a very nice rock alien. And mum does not burn food. Often. I don’t need you to sonic me, I just need a nap.”
“Oh, Rose,” the Doctor sat back down on his side of the booth. “I know you’re tired. That’s why I brought us here. You see, this place has the one thing Rose Tyler needs to fully recover from any bad situation.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that, then?”
“Chips,” The Doctor’s self-satisfied grin could probably be seen from the next county. “And not just any chips, either. These are the best chips in the universe. And they come with cheese. And sometimes...bacon.” The last word was whispered conspiratorially, as if spreading the secret would cause it to no longer exist.
“Ooooooh, chips.” Enthusiasm had crept back into her voice, albeit a quiet enthusiasm.
“Milkshakes, too. I love a good milkshake, you know. Banana, of course, but I’m sure there are others. What do you say: chips and milkshakes and a brisk jog back to the TARDIS? I’m thinking we explore the wide and wonderous world of disco next.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve always wondered how fast I could run in bell-bottoms. I’m game, as long as they have showers in the 70’s. Now, chips. Lots and lots of chips.”
“Your wish is my command.” said the Doctor, who got up and returned minutes later with what must have been the biggest plate Rose had ever seen, absolutely loaded with chips, dripping nuclear orange cheese, and topped with at least a rasher of crumbled bacon. “Fries,” he said, in his best southern american accent, “and lots of ‘em.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” said Rose, happier by the second. “See? This is why I travel with you. Chips. And your fantastic taste in suits, but mostly the chips.”
“I wouldn't have it any other way.” the Doctor said with a smile.
*A/N* The latin phrase up there translates to ‘that's my gum.’ Or at least, that’s what the internet’s latin dictionaries would have me believe. It’s probably not grammatically correct in any way. Google can be fickle. The title is from the last Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book by Douglas Adams.