FireOpal:- Yes I know - all my Doctor Who fics begin with the same thing. Oh well. One day, I'm striving for a fic that will not begin with Rose saying "Doctor…?" in any tone of voice.
Inspired by the fact that every episode always ends up with them running away, being shot to bits or hanging off a precipice by their fingertips. We all know what I mean, and we wouldn't have it any other way. And neither would Rose.
An Attempt at Mundane.
"Doctor…?"
"Hmmm?"
"Come out, you know I can't have a proper conversation with you under that thing."
"Sorry," the Doctor slid out agilely from the small cramped floor space he was crouched in, tinkering with the TARDIS' controls, yet again. "Didn't know it was a 'proper conversation'." He grinned and wiped his green goo covered fingers on a cloth.
"Well, I was just wondering…"
"Just wondering now are we? And I thought you wanted a proper conversation." He grinned. Teasing Rose was so much fun. Her blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail; she scowled, and glared at him, her hands on her hips.
"Don't start. Anyway, I've been thinking-g"
"Ooooh." He said, his grin widening as he ducked her swipe, accidentally hitting his head on a low hanging piece of metal. "Ow!"
"Serves you right, you annoying little-"
"Ah ah ah," the Doctor said quickly, rubbing his bruised head wryly, "no swearing in the TARDIS."
"Since when?" Rose asked, gob smacked.
"Since you decided to use it against me. Now, you were thinking…"
"Yes, anyway, I was thinking," Rose said quickly, trying to get the rapidly descending conversation back on track. "It seems to me every time you get this piece of junk moving, we always end up running for our lives, saving planets and, might I say, ruining our clothes."
"Hey, you should take more care of your clothes, this jacket's lasted me months!" he said, gesturing at the worn leather jacket tossed casually over the floor, the sonic screwdriver poking out of a pocket.
"Anyway," she said meaningfully, "I think it's about time you took me somewhere where I'm not going to get captured by Sontarans or chased by plastic or zombies or watching my world blow up. Somewhere peaceful."
"What?" the Doctor asked in mock-amazement "You want to go somewhere peaceful? Somewhere mundane?"
"Yup." Rose said with a grin. "You, me, the cinema."
"Oh, a date now is this?" he said, moving closer to her.
"It's what couples usually do, isn't it?" she replied, and he adopted a mock-hurt look.
"What about that nature-reserve I took you to? Picked you flowers and everything."
"Yes, complete with wonderfully thoughtful poison spores. Three days it took for the marks to go away!" she was playing with him, and he knew she didn't blame him. She had spent several hours after he had carried her back to the TARDIS in a semi-conscious state convincing him. It was testament to their relationship that they could joke about these things. In fact, the only thing they didn't joke about were the events at Van Straten's base.
"How about that time I took you to that pleasure world?" he asked reasonably, tongue hidden in his cheek.
"The one where we ended up caught in a crossfire between slave-revolutionaries and the overpowering government? Unless you call trudging through foot-high sewage in a skirt fun…"
"OK, OK." He gave up, hands thrown upwards in defeat. "Cinema eh? What culture?" Normally, Rose reflected, a man would ask what film she would want to watch. But then, that was part of the Doctor, who he was, and she wouldn't give it up for the world.
"Earth." She said firmly. "20th century, and no sci-fi films Doctor, I know you."
"Fine." He huffed, turning back to his console. Her young face brightened in a huge smile, and she ran over to clasp her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek. Half smiling, he turned round a kissed her gently on the lips, before she slid off to change into more suitable clothing. Grinning to himself now and shaking his head, the Doctor turned dials and pressed buttons that would take them to Earth, 1996. He knew just the film.
In the dark of the cinema, Rose snuggled up to the Doctor's leather jacket, his arm casually slung round her shoulders.
"Now this," she whispered quietly in his ear, "is definitely what I had in mind." She turned her gaze up to her love, smiling at the relaxed look on his features. She knew it wasn't just her that needed the break, but it was hard to convince the lean Time Lord to do something so mundane (and they definitely didn't do domestic), so she had to pull some strings when she knew they both needed the breather.
They were watching 'Romeo and Juliet', the one with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. Not long ago, the archaic language would've baffled her, but after a hasty jaunt to Shakespeare's era to meet the man himself, she read much more into the story. When she wasn't ogling the Time Lord her head was laying on of course.
Suddenly, a sound that was quite clearly nothing to do with the film echoed round the cinema, and all heads snapped up. It was incredibly loud, the sound of a bomb exploding. There were a sudden cacophony of screams and panicked cries from inside and outside the building, and the distinctive sound of laser fire. The Doctor looked down at Rose, the question in his blue green eyes. Rose rolled her eyes mockingly, and nodded.
"Come on then hero, lets save the world again."
"Are you sure? The TARDIS' around the corner, we could hop in, jump backwards a few days and finish the film if you like…"
"And leave this catastrophe? Nah, lets go, they probably need our help." Immediately, the Doctor bounded from his seat, helped Rose up, grabbed her hand and pulled them through the increasingly chaotic rows of seats.
"Sorry, coming through, excuse me…" The Doctor said under his breath as he pulled her along. Despite herself, Rose smiled at the back of his head.
'Here we go again.' she thought, and she wouldn't have it any other way.