He has to stop himself from laughing at this, and tries to nod solemnly. "Oh, I'd assume so."
At her next comments, however, he actually does laugh. "He used to change his clothes more often, you know. Quite sartorially obsessed, actually. A new outfit every time I saw him. We've traded places, it seems. He does change his shirts, though, doesn't he?" Pathetic that he's noticed, really. Probably very anal of him. "I do like wearing a suit but it's not always practical."
"Very well," he says, walking over to the kitchen, open-concept, still in view. After filling the kettle with water and placing it on the stove to come to a boil, he opens a cupboard and riffles through the tea. Orange Pekoe is boring...Earl Grey even more so... He could go for something a little less common but something common is probably safest. He settles on English Breakfast, eventually, very traditional of him. Very Harold Saxon, even if he doesn't really need to keep up too much of the facade with Rose. The character is comfortable, though, so he feels like he
( ... )
Going back to the kitchen one last time to bring back sugar and milk, the Master places them onto the table as well, along with spoons and sits down on the couch beside Rose.
"I haven't any scones right now," he says. "I feel as if there must be a pot of marmalade at the back of the fridge somewhere. There always is." He pours a bit of the milk into his mug, then the tea. "I could bake scones next time you come over, if you'd like?" He knows there will be a next time. He can tell.
"Yeah?" she says with a bit of surprise to her voice at the marmalade mention. She leans forward to grab one of the spoons and the sugar. "You really don't have to do that, Harry." she says before dumping two lumps of sugar into her empty tea cup and then reaching for the tea pot and pouring it in.
"Maybe I could bring some next time I drop by? Or you could even--" She stops herself for a moment and just laughs because she knows that would be a rotten idea to even invite him over. Her roommate hates him after all. She turns back to finishing up with making her tea and lifting a chocolate biscuit. "Forget it."
"I insist," says the Master, as he puts in one lump of sugar and stirs, placing the spoon on the coaster. "I 'could even'?" The absence of the Doctor would make things easier, of course, but he doubts he'd be going to such lengths with Rose if he wasn't here. Or maybe not. He sips at his tea and watches her mouth and the biscuit for a moment before taking a jammie dodger for himself. Save the chocolate ones for last.
Well if he was insisting then she wouldn't be protesting it further. "Only if you're sure," she replies taking another bite of her biscuit as her attention returns to Harry.
"Could even come over to the flat." she says. "You could bake there if you'd like. I've got an apron and everything." she suggests with a grin just thinking of the mental image. Maybe the Doctor wouldn't throw a fit if he was around. Or he wouldn't even be there.
"You have an apron?" asks the Master, gently teasing. "Well, I can't possibly refuse your invitation, then." After savouring a chocolate biscuit (he is going to have to go to that bakery again) he wipes a hand quickly across his mouth, conscious of crumbs and then licks his lips for the chocolate.
He could hurry things along with his mind but he chooses not to. It's more fun this way. Might as well keep up the pretence of normalcy. Besides, he's already done more than enough.
"With matching mittens," she adds with a grin finishing up her biscuit. She's not as conscious as he is with the crumbs as a few fall to land against the fabric of her white vest top.
She's back to staring at him almost memorized for a moment. He just looks so dashing and she--"They're really good." she manages before glancing at her tea cup on the table.
"Yes, they are," the Master says, looking at Rose and not entirely talking about biscuits any more. Both of their tea cups are on the table, and will get cold! the annoying, Doctor-y British part of him points out before he tells it to shut it, leans forward to close the already-small distance between himself and Rose and kisses her again.
Rose's hand cups the back of his head, her fingers sliding into his hair as the kiss lingers, deepens. Pulling away isn't even a thought in her head as her other hand grips the black fabric of his jumper.
[Action]; Scuse the Lucy. S'the only kissing icon I have. XDneverendingbeatNovember 28 2009, 19:37:38 UTC
It's his instinct, at this point, to slip into her mind as well as the kiss but he hangs back. He's not going to multi-task on this one, not right now. Letting his hand caress her cheek, he pushes them back a bit, against the throw pillow beside Rose on the arm of the couch. He breaks the kiss a moment to smile at Rose, eyes hooded and dark now, and moves down to kiss her neck.
[Action]; S'okay. I only have one icon too. xDshewashumanNovember 28 2009, 20:34:08 UTC
Her back falls comfortably against the pillow and she gasps a bit when the kiss is broken only to return his smile. There's a certain spark behind her eyes that seems to flicker for but a brief second before she arches her head back groaning at his actions.
She tugs at the hem of the jumper to slide her fingers underneath feeling the skin there. She needs this, needs him, her clouded mind argues. "Harry," she whispers.
The Master doesn't answer, after all, that's not his name. He does, at the feel of her hand, lean back a moment to struggle out of his jumper and toss it over the back of the couch. His dress shirt has come unbuttoned but he leaves it on for the moment, preferring instead to start upon undressing Rose.
Rose assists pulling the vest top over her head and throwing it behind her before her lips are back on him, kissing at his neck. The tea and biscuits along with other things are long forgotten.
"Mm," says the Master. It seems appropriate to the situation. "This," he says, stroking Rose's hair as she kisses his neck, "is lovely." She's underneath him, so a hand to her arse will be difficult but not... He brings his hand at least to her back to fiddle with the fastening of her bra before figuring out the sort it is and opening it. One of the benefits of being centuries old.
She grins against his skin feeling his fingers against her hair. Lovely. While she agrees she also has other choice words for this though the words won't come out.
Sliding the straps off her shoulders, she quickly discards the bra behind him before her lips trail up to find his. Her hands busy themselves at his unbuttoned dress shirt attempting to slide it off his shoulders.
Kissing Rose, he leans back a moment to help her free his shirt from his arms after which it falls beside him on the floor. Now freed from their encumbrance, he lets one of his hands caress her breast, as his other hand supports her head while they kiss and he presses against her.
At her next comments, however, he actually does laugh. "He used to change his clothes more often, you know. Quite sartorially obsessed, actually. A new outfit every time I saw him. We've traded places, it seems. He does change his shirts, though, doesn't he?" Pathetic that he's noticed, really. Probably very anal of him. "I do like wearing a suit but it's not always practical."
"Very well," he says, walking over to the kitchen, open-concept, still in view. After filling the kettle with water and placing it on the stove to come to a boil, he opens a cupboard and riffles through the tea. Orange Pekoe is boring...Earl Grey even more so... He could go for something a little less common but something common is probably safest. He settles on English Breakfast, eventually, very traditional of him. Very Harold Saxon, even if he doesn't really need to keep up too much of the facade with Rose. The character is comfortable, though, so he feels like he ( ... )
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"I haven't any scones right now," he says. "I feel as if there must be a pot of marmalade at the back of the fridge somewhere. There always is." He pours a bit of the milk into his mug, then the tea. "I could bake scones next time you come over, if you'd like?" He knows there will be a next time. He can tell.
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"Maybe I could bring some next time I drop by? Or you could even--" She stops herself for a moment and just laughs because she knows that would be a rotten idea to even invite him over. Her roommate hates him after all. She turns back to finishing up with making her tea and lifting a chocolate biscuit. "Forget it."
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"Could even come over to the flat." she says. "You could bake there if you'd like. I've got an apron and everything." she suggests with a grin just thinking of the mental image. Maybe the Doctor wouldn't throw a fit if he was around. Or he wouldn't even be there.
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He could hurry things along with his mind but he chooses not to. It's more fun this way. Might as well keep up the pretence of normalcy. Besides, he's already done more than enough.
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She's back to staring at him almost memorized for a moment. He just looks so dashing and she--"They're really good." she manages before glancing at her tea cup on the table.
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She tugs at the hem of the jumper to slide her fingers underneath feeling the skin there. She needs this, needs him, her clouded mind argues. "Harry," she whispers.
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He brings his hand at least to her back to fiddle with the fastening of her bra before figuring out the sort it is and opening it. One of the benefits of being centuries old.
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Sliding the straps off her shoulders, she quickly discards the bra behind him before her lips trail up to find his. Her hands busy themselves at his unbuttoned dress shirt attempting to slide it off his shoulders.
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