Tea & Jelly Babies
Title: Tea & Jelly Babies
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word Count: 516
Pairings or Characters: Four, Eight, Nine, Ten; mention of the Tardis
Warnings: cattiness beyond
Summary: Four versions of the same man sit down to some tea - what could go wrong?
Written for the who_contest with the prompt of this photo:
“I haven’t seen this set since before Sarah Jane…the first time!” exclaimed the long-haired and regal looking man. He sat down at a stretched out rectangular table with four of his closest, uh, friends.
Atop the table sat the finest set of china - the smooth surface shined, the tea neatly poured into the center of the cups…not a drop spared. Something about their perfection caused his hearts to ache with memories of a world that no longer existed.
“Yes, I remember that,” breathed one of the men, his long scarf circling around his neck and cascading over his chair and draping over the feet of his counterpart, “it was after that ark business.” He reached forward to grab a biscuit from a plate from the matching set.
The lean, almost lanky, man whose heavy boots were circled with the curly haired man’s scarf kicked at the fabric and rolled his eyes, “Alright, does it really matter the last time we saw this? If the cups were any smaller, I’d be drinking out of a thimble.” He grumpily grasped at a cup, but not with enough force to cause them to chip or crack. His brusque appearance provided a strong contrast with his actions.
“Well, you’ll just have to pour yourself another cup after that one, won’t you?” the pin-striped incarnation with the long brown coat responded curtly. He eyed the leather-clad Doctor with a mixture of contempt and wariness. The other two Doctors exchanged looks at the slow exchange.
The Ninth Doctor simply gave him a knowing smirk, “Guess I will then, pretty boy.”
They watched as Ten gave him a glare for an answer.
“Don’t you two have anything else better to do than squabble? It really gets so tiring,” proclaimed Eight.
“Honestly, it does get tiresome…if you sit down, I’ll give you a Jelly Baby,” the Fourth Doctor said to Ten, attempting to persuade him to sit down amicably.
“Oh, don’t give him any sweets, he’s already hyperactive as it is - we’ll have to pry him off the ceiling,” Nine said with exasperation as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles, further stepping on the multi-colored scarf.
Ten sat down and scowled like a teenager - Four sincerely believed that he was fighting the urge to kick Nine’s long legs under the table.
“So, where is everyone else? This meeting should have started about fifteen minutes ago,” said the youngest looking of the bunch.
The Eighth Doctor settled uncomfortably in his chair, the tiny cup and saucer looking at home in his hands, “I do believe that One, Two and Three like to wait until everyone else is present.” His eyes darted, not looking at any one face around the table, "I've no idea where the rest are."
“So they don’t have to hear the complainin’ I bet,” chuckled Nine. Ten noted that it was without humor and nodded to agree.
“Well,” laughed Four heartily, “what is time for us, anyway?”
And so the four personifications of space and time waited for the rest to arrive. The hum of the Tardis enveloping them.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word Count: 516
Pairings or Characters: Four, Eight, Nine, Ten; mention of the Tardis
Warnings: cattiness beyond
Summary: Four versions of the same man sit down to some tea - what could go wrong?
Written for the who_contest with the prompt of this photo:
“I haven’t seen this set since before Sarah Jane…the first time!” exclaimed the long-haired and regal looking man. He sat down at a stretched out rectangular table with four of his closest, uh, friends.
Atop the table sat the finest set of china - the smooth surface shined, the tea neatly poured into the center of the cups…not a drop spared. Something about their perfection caused his hearts to ache with memories of a world that no longer existed.
“Yes, I remember that,” breathed one of the men, his long scarf circling around his neck and cascading over his chair and draping over the feet of his counterpart, “it was after that ark business.” He reached forward to grab a biscuit from a plate from the matching set.
The lean, almost lanky, man whose heavy boots were circled with the curly haired man’s scarf kicked at the fabric and rolled his eyes, “Alright, does it really matter the last time we saw this? If the cups were any smaller, I’d be drinking out of a thimble.” He grumpily grasped at a cup, but not with enough force to cause them to chip or crack. His brusque appearance provided a strong contrast with his actions.
“Well, you’ll just have to pour yourself another cup after that one, won’t you?” the pin-striped incarnation with the long brown coat responded curtly. He eyed the leather-clad Doctor with a mixture of contempt and wariness. The other two Doctors exchanged looks at the slow exchange.
The Ninth Doctor simply gave him a knowing smirk, “Guess I will then, pretty boy.”
They watched as Ten gave him a glare for an answer.
“Don’t you two have anything else better to do than squabble? It really gets so tiring,” proclaimed Eight.
“Honestly, it does get tiresome…if you sit down, I’ll give you a Jelly Baby,” the Fourth Doctor said to Ten, attempting to persuade him to sit down amicably.
“Oh, don’t give him any sweets, he’s already hyperactive as it is - we’ll have to pry him off the ceiling,” Nine said with exasperation as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles, further stepping on the multi-colored scarf.
Ten sat down and scowled like a teenager - Four sincerely believed that he was fighting the urge to kick Nine’s long legs under the table.
“So, where is everyone else? This meeting should have started about fifteen minutes ago,” said the youngest looking of the bunch.
The Eighth Doctor settled uncomfortably in his chair, the tiny cup and saucer looking at home in his hands, “I do believe that One, Two and Three like to wait until everyone else is present.” His eyes darted, not looking at any one face around the table, "I've no idea where the rest are."
“So they don’t have to hear the complainin’ I bet,” chuckled Nine. Ten noted that it was without humor and nodded to agree.
“Well,” laughed Four heartily, “what is time for us, anyway?”
And so the four personifications of space and time waited for the rest to arrive. The hum of the Tardis enveloping them.