If I Profane...
Disclaimer: I own nothing. A/N: My first dip in the waters of Whofic. Enjoy! Reviews are adored.
Well I'll never forget the first time that I heard,
that pretty mouth say that dirty word...
~Brad Paisley, "Little Moments"
It had been a good day. Certainly not as exciting as most, but definitely a good day.
Talaxxi Seven was the prime tourist destination in three systems; the entire planet one giant fun fair. Rides and games and food from all over the known universe stretched as far as the eye could see.
And Rose had thrown herself into the spirit of it all with a carefree zeal that was infectious, putting a spring to even his step. He was quickly becoming addicted to that particular look in her eyes—the uninhibited excitement of discovery that shone out of her face with each new destination.
Soon enough, he'd found himself dragged on every ride they passed, stuffed with enough junk food to last him at least a decade, and strong-armed into playing every game in sight. It had been strangely amusing to watch her puzzle out each new game—she'd been utter rubbish at most of them. But what she lacked in ability, she made up for in enthusiasm and eventually, she'd managed to procure herself a prize. And if the Doctor secretly suspected that her triumph owed far more to the appreciative looks the young Talaxx working the booth had been tossing her way than it did the fact that she'd managed to get the rings round the Kynassian bottlenecks...well, even he wasn't a big enough bastard to strip her of that particular illusion.
Holding her prize out in front of her as they wandered aimlessly through the midway, she narrowed her gaze at the plush purple toy. "Funny lookin' little thing, innit? Sort of...sort of like a walrus."
"You think so?" Reaching out to pluck the doll from her grasp, the Doctor brought it up level to his eyes, inspecting it thoroughly. Eyebrow arching, he gave her a disbelieving look. "Seen a lot of six legged purple walruses have you?"
"Didn't say it was exactly like a walrus, did I? Said it was sort of like a walrus."
The Doctor eyed the stuffed animal doubtfully. "If by 'sort of' you mean 'not at all'."
"Oi! Watch it you!" Rose yanked it from his grasp, tucking it beneath one arm as she delivered a sharp, but playful, elbow to the Doctor's ribs. "My mum's not the only Tyler as knows how to give a good smack, y'know."
Smothering a grin, the Doctor shook his head. "You humans—always so quick to resort to violence to solve your problems."
"Wouldn't have to resort to violence if you weren't bein' such a git."
"Not my fault you can't tell a dururangutalupuru from a walrus," the Doctor scoffed. "One of the finest examples of evolutionary differentiation in this quadrant and the best you can do is a dodgy comparison to a grossly inferior and biologically unremarkable pinniped. Really, Rose Tyler, I wonder where your head's at sometimes."
Brow knit, Rose stared down at the toy. "What's it called?"
The Doctor sighed. "I just told you—it's a dururangutalupuru. Try and keep up, would you?"
"Duru...dururan..."
Rolling his eyes, the Doctor feigned annoyance, though really, he was rather enjoying himself. "Honestly, Rose, it's not that difficult."
"'S not that easy either," she shot back.
"Well don't just stand there glowering about it...try again. Dururangutalupuru."
"Dur...duru..." she stopped, huffed. "What's it again?"
"Dururangutalupuru."
Oh yes, he was definitely enjoying himself. She was all focus and concentration, with her furrowed brow and pursed lips. It was a look he was coming to know well—Rose Tyler, deep in the throes of perplexed thought. It was oddly endearing and words like cute and adorable skittered through his mind as he watched the muscle along her jaw tick with her frustration.
It was very nearly on his tongue to call her either one or the other when the thought struck him that either might, at that moment, come across as more than a little patronizing. And while normally that wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest, he was loath to chase the expression from her face. He was quite enamored of the view really—she wore that kittenish look of determination even better than she did those faded blue jeans of hers.
And that's saying something, a devious voice whispered in his mind.
He frowned a little, not at all liking the distinctly non-platonic bent of that particular thought. It would have been bad enough had it been the first of its kind to make itself known—but he'd been having an alarming number of them of late.
He'd liked her more than he reasonably should almost from the very beginning, but it hadn't been like that. Not when he'd grabbed her hand that first time, not when she'd come swinging at him on that chain. Not even on Platform One.
But Cardiff...
He hadn't been lying when he said she looked beautiful. He'd thought of her as little more than a child—after all, nineteen was very young by human standards, let alone Gallifreyan. But then she'd walked into the console room wearing that dress...
Lovely, elegant and feminine, that dress had hugged her in all the right places and all the right ways. And oh, how she'd glowed! Rose Tyler, common twenty-first century shop girl, had been utterly transformed right before his eyes into a graceful, sophisticated...
"Fuck this for a lark!"
...lady...
The Doctor's eyes, wide with surprise and more than a little shock, snapped back to Rose. "Oi...you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Sorry," she spat, clearly anything but as she turned a baleful glare upon him. "But it's my prize," she shook the toy in question at him, her air vaguely threatening, "so I'm gonna call it whatever the bloody hell I want. 'S a walrus—end of story. An' I don't wanna hear a single soddin' word about it, yeah?"
Crude, her choice of words. Utterly vulgar and not at all in keeping with the image of her he'd been building up in his mind ever since Cardiff. It should have been repellent. It should have been offensive. It should have been enough to quash those faint stirrings of something that he categorically refused to call attraction.
It should have been all those things.
But it wasn't.
Somehow, the picture she made, standing there, brandishing that plush purple toy and looking less like a kitten and more like a hissing, spitting alley-cat...somehow, he found it...
Delightful. Utterly and completely.
This, he thought to himself, is not good.
No, definitely not good. There were literally hundreds of reasons why it was not good. But it was almost impossible to name even a single one of them when she was standing there, looking so delectably adorable with her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes; her perfect lips bowed into a pout that...
"What?"
Her voice, sounding oddly uncertain where it had been sharply commanding only moments before, once again drew him back to himself. Blinking, he met her eyes. "What?"
Rose, frowning now, lifted one hand to her face, self-consciously brushing her fingers over her skin. "'S there somethin' on my face?" A sudden look of mortification arrested her features. "Oh God...that not quite caramel apple thing," she groaned. "Dripped it down my front I know, but did I get some on my cheek too? Why didn't you tell me!"
The Doctor looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Tell you...? Rose...what're you on about? There's nothing on your face."
She stopped in mid-swipe. "No?"
He gave her a look. "You really think I'd let you wander about looking a mess?"
"But..." she made another nervous pass over her face, "...what were you starin' at then?"
Oh...hell...
What was he to say? What the hell was he supposed to say?
Hoping that he didn't look anything like as flustered as he was feeling, the Doctor racked his brain for some response that wouldn't end with him mortified and nursing a freshly slapped cheek. But what could he possibly...
"It's just amazing to me, is all."
"What's amazin'?"
He stepped forward, grabbing her chin in his hand and tilting her head up toward him. "Come on, then," he urged, "out with it."
If he'd thought she looked confused before, it was nothing to the look she was giving him then. "Out with what?"
Shaking his head as if she had said something particularly stupid, the Doctor sighed. "Humans," he said dismissively. "Your tongue, Rose. Lemme see your tongue."
"What for?"
"Just do it!"
Frowning but compliant, Rose stuck her tongue out obediently, her eyes locked on the Doctor's.
For his part, the Doctor was wondering how he'd ever thought that this was a good idea. Exercising restraint in a way that he couldn't quite remember ever having to before, he studied Rose's tongue with a mock-critical eye.
"Like I said—amazing. Blows the mind really."
Her patience exhausted, Rose jerked backwards, yanking her chin from his grasp. "Doctor," she said, exasperation turning the word into a huff, "what the hell are you on about?"
"You can rattle off expletives like a Howitzer, but you can't say dururangutalupuru to save your life."
It could have sounded like a rebuke, but the smile on his face softened the sentiment behind the words so much that it coaxed a wide grin to Rose's lips.
"What can I say," she quipped, her curled tongue poking from between her teeth and charming him in ways he knew it shouldn't, "I'm talented, me."
"And don't you just know it," he said, knowing he was grinning a little too widely. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand, pulling her along beside him toward yet another game booth. "Come on, Rose Tyler, let's see if you can win yourself another stuffed walrus."
"Now, isn't that much easier than that absolute mouthful you were wantin' me to call it?" Rose said, skipping along beside him, her prize tucked up under her arm. "Why do aliens have to go an' give things such complicated names?"
The Doctor sighed, but his smile persisted. Glancing down at her, the grin widened at the impish brown eyes staring back up at him.
Yes, he was in trouble.
But at that moment, he really couldn't bring himself to care.