Fic: Pink Silk & Golden Hair
Title: Pink Silk & Golden Hair
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Word Count: 562
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: She asks where they're headed and he informs her that just around the corner is the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre, the date is December 18, and they are about to see the very first performance of The Nutcracker.
A/N: This is my extremely late fic for the Across the Universe ficathon at songs_in_time; prompt: Tchaikovsky, 1892: The first performance of 'The Nutcracker' ballet (thank you to jenny_gwen for the read-through *squish*)
She stares at her reflection in the mirror and smoothes the front of her gown. She loves dressing up, hates that they rarely have the opportunity to do so.
She turns her head to check the flower in her hair and straightens her necklace, smiling vaguely.
Satisfied with her appearance she leaves her room, slipping her heavy coat on over her dress.
He's waiting for her, looking somewhat ill at ease in his tuxedo, but she thinks he looks quite dashing. She smiles at him and straightens his tie before they leave the TARDIS, walking arm in arm through the snowy streets of St. Petersburg in 1892.
She asks where they're headed and he informs her that just around the corner is the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre, the date is December 18, and they are about to see the very first performance of The Nutcracker.
She gasps, thrilled, and remembers all the years from her childhood when she and her mother would see the ballet every Christmas. He smiles to himself, happy that he can still surprise and please her.
They enter the theatre and she checks her coat. He is left temporarily speechless as he sees her gown of light pink silk, embellished with delicate beading and designs stitched in dark pink thread. Modest though it is, entirely appropriate for the time, there is something evocative about the way the dress hugs her curves, amplifying her small waist. Her necklace lays on her chest just above her breasts, emphasized in such a way as to enhance her femininity without being obscene.
She smiles as she approaches and he smiles back, his hearts pounding somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. She takes his arm again and they enter the auditorium, taking their seats amongst Russia's elite.
The ballet starts and she is immediately enthralled, delighting as the children decorate the large Christmas tree, smiling in anticipation as Drosselmeyer gives Clara the Nutcracker, gasping with the audience as the Nutcracker comes to life and battles with the Mouse King.
He tries to watch the ballet but can't keep his eyes off of her, drinking in the grace of her profile, the curve of her neck, bare to him with her hair up as it is. It is inappropriate for him to touch her in public, at least the way he wants to touch her now, and this only increases his desire to hold her, to caress her neck and pull the pins from her hair, to bury his fingers in it as it tumbles in golden waves to her shoulders.
He reaches for her hand and she accepts it, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The Sugar Plum Fairy and the people of the Land of Sweets are dancing for Clara and the Prince and her smile is wider now, if that's even possible. He can see tears sparkling in her eyes and realizes he's never seen her this happy before.
Clara and the Prince ride off in the sleigh and the applause is deafening as the curtain falls. She leans over to him and thanks him softly, her lips brushing his ear. He smiles at her and gently wipes away the tears on her cheeks.
They return to the TARDIS and he pulls the pins from her hair, burying his fingers in the golden waves that tumble to her shoulders.
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Word Count: 562
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: She asks where they're headed and he informs her that just around the corner is the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre, the date is December 18, and they are about to see the very first performance of The Nutcracker.
A/N: This is my extremely late fic for the Across the Universe ficathon at songs_in_time; prompt: Tchaikovsky, 1892: The first performance of 'The Nutcracker' ballet (thank you to jenny_gwen for the read-through *squish*)
She stares at her reflection in the mirror and smoothes the front of her gown. She loves dressing up, hates that they rarely have the opportunity to do so.
She turns her head to check the flower in her hair and straightens her necklace, smiling vaguely.
Satisfied with her appearance she leaves her room, slipping her heavy coat on over her dress.
He's waiting for her, looking somewhat ill at ease in his tuxedo, but she thinks he looks quite dashing. She smiles at him and straightens his tie before they leave the TARDIS, walking arm in arm through the snowy streets of St. Petersburg in 1892.
She asks where they're headed and he informs her that just around the corner is the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre, the date is December 18, and they are about to see the very first performance of The Nutcracker.
She gasps, thrilled, and remembers all the years from her childhood when she and her mother would see the ballet every Christmas. He smiles to himself, happy that he can still surprise and please her.
They enter the theatre and she checks her coat. He is left temporarily speechless as he sees her gown of light pink silk, embellished with delicate beading and designs stitched in dark pink thread. Modest though it is, entirely appropriate for the time, there is something evocative about the way the dress hugs her curves, amplifying her small waist. Her necklace lays on her chest just above her breasts, emphasized in such a way as to enhance her femininity without being obscene.
She smiles as she approaches and he smiles back, his hearts pounding somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. She takes his arm again and they enter the auditorium, taking their seats amongst Russia's elite.
The ballet starts and she is immediately enthralled, delighting as the children decorate the large Christmas tree, smiling in anticipation as Drosselmeyer gives Clara the Nutcracker, gasping with the audience as the Nutcracker comes to life and battles with the Mouse King.
He tries to watch the ballet but can't keep his eyes off of her, drinking in the grace of her profile, the curve of her neck, bare to him with her hair up as it is. It is inappropriate for him to touch her in public, at least the way he wants to touch her now, and this only increases his desire to hold her, to caress her neck and pull the pins from her hair, to bury his fingers in it as it tumbles in golden waves to her shoulders.
He reaches for her hand and she accepts it, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The Sugar Plum Fairy and the people of the Land of Sweets are dancing for Clara and the Prince and her smile is wider now, if that's even possible. He can see tears sparkling in her eyes and realizes he's never seen her this happy before.
Clara and the Prince ride off in the sleigh and the applause is deafening as the curtain falls. She leans over to him and thanks him softly, her lips brushing his ear. He smiles at her and gently wipes away the tears on her cheeks.
They return to the TARDIS and he pulls the pins from her hair, burying his fingers in the golden waves that tumble to her shoulders.