[fic] make believe.
Title: Make Believe.
Character/Pairing: Eleven/Rose, TenII/Rose.
Rating: G.
Summary: "I love benches."
Disclaimer: Sadly, I must say that I do not own Doctor Who at all.
Author's Notes: Written for the FICATHON at then_theres_us and truly lovely prompt was presented by humansrsuperior.
"I love benches."
She looks at him oddly, like he isn't quite right, but he pushes forward anyways. He knows her better than she does, right now. This tiny little human girl doesn't have the faintest clue what is ahead of her and that is quite alright with him. It is better this way.
Too bad his brain is big enough for voices to echo - liar liar liar comes the endless laugh.
"Yeah? I guess they're okay."
"Okay? They are MORE than okay. They are MAGNIFICENT. I especially love when you have three people and you just squeeze your way into the middle seat and then you have one on each side and it's just brilliant. Like you've got roots or weights, possibly anchors, but movable ones that won't end up dragging you down. Wonder if that's what a book between two bookends feels like - are you listening?"
She grins at him, her chips forgotten as this wild man smashes into her senses and sets them on fire. Mickey, she thinks, Mickey. Rose clings to that name since she shouldn't and can't and oh, he has such a mad grin.
"So what are you doing here with just me? Should've sat yourself down with a couple or something."
"You're enough," he says cryptically, cheerful smile never making it to his eyes.
"Hope you know you sound a bit like a stalker there."
"How do you know I'm not?"
"Oh, you think you're so impressive! You look like you barely made it out of university." Maybe this is flirting. Maybe they are flirting. She can't tell, not when he has that infectious spark in his eyes, not when he looks like he is casting off years just talking to her. Rose doesn't know this of course, but she feels it. Womanly intuition, if she had to explain.
"I am so impressive!"
"Sure you are. I bet - oh. My lunch break's over. Should be getting back to Henrik's. Sorry, what did you say your name was?"
His blue-green eyes swirl for a moment and she feels lightheaded looking at them. "No one. Just passing by. Break's over for me too, back to the old routine."
He is gone when she looks again.
Character/Pairing: Eleven/Rose, TenII/Rose.
Rating: G.
Summary: "I love benches."
Disclaimer: Sadly, I must say that I do not own Doctor Who at all.
Author's Notes: Written for the FICATHON at then_theres_us and truly lovely prompt was presented by humansrsuperior.
"I love benches."
She looks at him oddly, like he isn't quite right, but he pushes forward anyways. He knows her better than she does, right now. This tiny little human girl doesn't have the faintest clue what is ahead of her and that is quite alright with him. It is better this way.
Too bad his brain is big enough for voices to echo - liar liar liar comes the endless laugh.
"Yeah? I guess they're okay."
"Okay? They are MORE than okay. They are MAGNIFICENT. I especially love when you have three people and you just squeeze your way into the middle seat and then you have one on each side and it's just brilliant. Like you've got roots or weights, possibly anchors, but movable ones that won't end up dragging you down. Wonder if that's what a book between two bookends feels like - are you listening?"
She grins at him, her chips forgotten as this wild man smashes into her senses and sets them on fire. Mickey, she thinks, Mickey. Rose clings to that name since she shouldn't and can't and oh, he has such a mad grin.
"So what are you doing here with just me? Should've sat yourself down with a couple or something."
"You're enough," he says cryptically, cheerful smile never making it to his eyes.
"Hope you know you sound a bit like a stalker there."
"How do you know I'm not?"
"Oh, you think you're so impressive! You look like you barely made it out of university." Maybe this is flirting. Maybe they are flirting. She can't tell, not when he has that infectious spark in his eyes, not when he looks like he is casting off years just talking to her. Rose doesn't know this of course, but she feels it. Womanly intuition, if she had to explain.
"I am so impressive!"
"Sure you are. I bet - oh. My lunch break's over. Should be getting back to Henrik's. Sorry, what did you say your name was?"
His blue-green eyes swirl for a moment and she feels lightheaded looking at them. "No one. Just passing by. Break's over for me too, back to the old routine."
He is gone when she looks again.