(no subject)
second star to the right, Ten/Rose, G
It’s the perfect position for a quick cuddle and a pleasant reminder of all the very many perfect ways he’s found for his body to fit against hers these last few weeks., 947
She’s been back three weeks before she finds it. Three weeks back and it’ll be three more weeks until he’s willing (well, he says "willing", he means "able") to let her out of his sight for longer than the time it takes to make popcorn and walk rather more quickly than usual back to the media room.
She’s kneeling in front of the DVD cabinet, that furrow between her brows that’s just short of discovery, just shy of understanding. He takes a closer look at the DVDs scattered on the floor. Ah, Disney. The logical choice after a particularly harrowing day, alien-wise. And then he looks even closer, to the movie she’s holding. Oh. Right.
He sets the popcorn down on the coffee table and kneels on the floor behind her, hooking his chin over her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. It’s the perfect position for a quick cuddle and a pleasant reminder of all the very many perfect ways he’s found for his body to fit against hers these last few weeks. It distracts her, long enough for her to turn in his arms, give him That Smile and a quick kiss. Then she turns to face him, bemused.
“Doctor, this isn’t right.” She taps the Peter Pan case.
“No?”
“No. I watched this over and over growing up, and… well, look at it. Peter Pan looks the same, but this isn't Wendy.”
He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the blonde-not-brunette girl on the box Rose is pointing at. “That’s because it’s not Wendy. It’s you.” He looks back up at Rose, giving her a small smile.
“What?” She frowns. “What do you mean, it’s me?”
“Well, to be more specific, I mean it looks like you. She’s still called Wendy.” He takes the case from her and regards it fondly. A young girl with big, soulful brown eyes, blonde hair and full lips, flying hand in hand with a magical boy wearing a mischievous grin. “It’s a good likeness, don't you think?” he asks.
“But…” Rose looks at it again, blinking as if to clear her eyes. “...I don’t understand.”
“Well.” He leans back on one hand, the other returning to his hair. “I took a little trip. While you were… gone. Earth. 1950-ish. Nestene Consciousness again, actually. Surprising amount of plastic in the Disney film studios. Anyway, got the aliens sorted, got myself a job as an animator. Ever heard of Disney’s Nine Old Men?”
Rose shakes her head, a smile of realization spreading slowly across her face.
“Core group of animators at Disney, back in the day. Created some of the studio’s most famous works. If you look in the history books now, you’ll see that it’s not so much nine as… Ten Old Men.”
“And you’re… Ten?”
“Yup.”
“And you drew… this is me. I’m Wendy.”
“You’re Wendy,” he smiles.
She shakes her head in amazement. “But that’s…”
“Very impressive?” he suggests hopefully.
“Very, very impressive,” she agrees. Rose looks at the case for a long time, and when she speaks again, he can hear the tears in her voice. “And you did this… for me?”
He takes her hand, because everything is so much better, so much easier for holding it. “Yes. Well, for me. I suppose I wanted… I wanted the world to have something else to remember you by.” He swallows against the lump in his own throat. “I wanted a way to keep you alive in this universe. You know,” he shrugs, trying to use a lighter tone, "one that didn’t involve moping around the TARDIS and making everyone around me miserable.”
She looks up at him, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“No? You mean none of your other boyfriends have gone back in time to immortalize you in an animated character?” he teases gently.
She wipes at her wet cheeks, then giggles. “Boyfriend?”
He cringes. “You’re right, it sounds funny when I say it out loud. Associate? Partner? Ally?”
“I kind of like 'plus one',” she says shyly, squeezing his hand.
He’s still surprised, every time, how much he missed holding this hand. He nods. “Yes, I’m quite partial to that one, too.” He reaches out to wipe a wayward tear from her cheek.
Rose shifts and snuggles into his side after a moment, and he has to admit, it’s even nicer than the hand-holding, especially when she nuzzles her face into his shoulder like that.
“So, you never thought to immortalize me as a Disney Princess, then?” she asks after a moment.
He leans his head against hers, considering. “Nah. I've never been one for princesses. Wendy, on the other hand… she’s got character. Besides - young girl flies away to have fantastic adventures with a boy who never ages? Seemed appropriate." He pulls her tighter, wrapping both arms around her. "Besides, look at Ariel and Jasmine.” He nods towards the DVD boxes in question. “They’re a little... under-dressed.”
“Ah,” Rose concedes. “And this was before you’d seen me under-dressed.”
“Technically, yes,” he turns his head to waggle his eyebrows at her. “But I have a very good imagination.”
She giggles.
He pulls her up, heading for the couch. It's a better spot for a prolonged cuddle, which seems like an excellent idea right about now. Well, he says "right about now", he means "always".
“Come on. Popcorn’s getting cold." He leans down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "Oh, and speaking of Disney - you’re going to love what I’ve done with Old Yeller.”
It’s the perfect position for a quick cuddle and a pleasant reminder of all the very many perfect ways he’s found for his body to fit against hers these last few weeks., 947
She’s been back three weeks before she finds it. Three weeks back and it’ll be three more weeks until he’s willing (well, he says "willing", he means "able") to let her out of his sight for longer than the time it takes to make popcorn and walk rather more quickly than usual back to the media room.
She’s kneeling in front of the DVD cabinet, that furrow between her brows that’s just short of discovery, just shy of understanding. He takes a closer look at the DVDs scattered on the floor. Ah, Disney. The logical choice after a particularly harrowing day, alien-wise. And then he looks even closer, to the movie she’s holding. Oh. Right.
He sets the popcorn down on the coffee table and kneels on the floor behind her, hooking his chin over her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. It’s the perfect position for a quick cuddle and a pleasant reminder of all the very many perfect ways he’s found for his body to fit against hers these last few weeks. It distracts her, long enough for her to turn in his arms, give him That Smile and a quick kiss. Then she turns to face him, bemused.
“Doctor, this isn’t right.” She taps the Peter Pan case.
“No?”
“No. I watched this over and over growing up, and… well, look at it. Peter Pan looks the same, but this isn't Wendy.”
He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the blonde-not-brunette girl on the box Rose is pointing at. “That’s because it’s not Wendy. It’s you.” He looks back up at Rose, giving her a small smile.
“What?” She frowns. “What do you mean, it’s me?”
“Well, to be more specific, I mean it looks like you. She’s still called Wendy.” He takes the case from her and regards it fondly. A young girl with big, soulful brown eyes, blonde hair and full lips, flying hand in hand with a magical boy wearing a mischievous grin. “It’s a good likeness, don't you think?” he asks.
“But…” Rose looks at it again, blinking as if to clear her eyes. “...I don’t understand.”
“Well.” He leans back on one hand, the other returning to his hair. “I took a little trip. While you were… gone. Earth. 1950-ish. Nestene Consciousness again, actually. Surprising amount of plastic in the Disney film studios. Anyway, got the aliens sorted, got myself a job as an animator. Ever heard of Disney’s Nine Old Men?”
Rose shakes her head, a smile of realization spreading slowly across her face.
“Core group of animators at Disney, back in the day. Created some of the studio’s most famous works. If you look in the history books now, you’ll see that it’s not so much nine as… Ten Old Men.”
“And you’re… Ten?”
“Yup.”
“And you drew… this is me. I’m Wendy.”
“You’re Wendy,” he smiles.
She shakes her head in amazement. “But that’s…”
“Very impressive?” he suggests hopefully.
“Very, very impressive,” she agrees. Rose looks at the case for a long time, and when she speaks again, he can hear the tears in her voice. “And you did this… for me?”
He takes her hand, because everything is so much better, so much easier for holding it. “Yes. Well, for me. I suppose I wanted… I wanted the world to have something else to remember you by.” He swallows against the lump in his own throat. “I wanted a way to keep you alive in this universe. You know,” he shrugs, trying to use a lighter tone, "one that didn’t involve moping around the TARDIS and making everyone around me miserable.”
She looks up at him, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“No? You mean none of your other boyfriends have gone back in time to immortalize you in an animated character?” he teases gently.
She wipes at her wet cheeks, then giggles. “Boyfriend?”
He cringes. “You’re right, it sounds funny when I say it out loud. Associate? Partner? Ally?”
“I kind of like 'plus one',” she says shyly, squeezing his hand.
He’s still surprised, every time, how much he missed holding this hand. He nods. “Yes, I’m quite partial to that one, too.” He reaches out to wipe a wayward tear from her cheek.
Rose shifts and snuggles into his side after a moment, and he has to admit, it’s even nicer than the hand-holding, especially when she nuzzles her face into his shoulder like that.
“So, you never thought to immortalize me as a Disney Princess, then?” she asks after a moment.
He leans his head against hers, considering. “Nah. I've never been one for princesses. Wendy, on the other hand… she’s got character. Besides - young girl flies away to have fantastic adventures with a boy who never ages? Seemed appropriate." He pulls her tighter, wrapping both arms around her. "Besides, look at Ariel and Jasmine.” He nods towards the DVD boxes in question. “They’re a little... under-dressed.”
“Ah,” Rose concedes. “And this was before you’d seen me under-dressed.”
“Technically, yes,” he turns his head to waggle his eyebrows at her. “But I have a very good imagination.”
She giggles.
He pulls her up, heading for the couch. It's a better spot for a prolonged cuddle, which seems like an excellent idea right about now. Well, he says "right about now", he means "always".
“Come on. Popcorn’s getting cold." He leans down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "Oh, and speaking of Disney - you’re going to love what I’ve done with Old Yeller.”