Mrs. Hudson stood in the kitchen of her flat making tea. She had been quite looking forward to this little get together. It had been a long time since everyone had been able to slow down long enough to really have a good chat. She had pulled out her big teapot, the good biscuits and enough tea for the British Army. They needed this. A good old fashioned "girl's day."
Mrs. Hudson reentered her parlour with the tea tray and five cups. As she stepped in, she found the conversation already in full swing.
"I would have paid good money to be a fly on the wall for that one. His face must have been priceless!"
Rose Tyler looked up in the middle of her sentence to see Mrs. Hudson enter and almost immediately pounced on the biscuit plate. Clara Oswald smiled at her, remembering the day they were talking about. As Mrs. Hudson set down the tray, Molly Hooper started to pour all five cups of tea.
"Oh, I can do that, dear!"
"Nonsense, Mrs. Hudson! We are your guests, and as such, we should be treating you! Now, you just sit and rest your hip."
"Yeah, we got you, Mrs. H!"
Charlie Bradbury stood up to help Molly, intentionally brushing her hand against Molly's arm as she went.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Molly! Wow, such soft skin! Do you moisturize?"
Molly blushed to a deep shade of scarlet as Rose and Clara exchanged glances, trying not to giggle. Mrs. Hudson was oblivious and sat down in her favorite chair.
"So, dearies, what were we talking about before I left?"
"Clothes?" Charlie was still slightly distracted by Molly's skin as she answered.
"Clothes!" The two former companions joined in together, almost cheering the word.
"I mean, what is with the coats? Like the only way you can look badass is if you have a long coat flapping in the wind!"
"Charlie, language, please!"
"Sorry, Mrs. H."
"No, but I know what you mean! First time I met the Doctor, it was in this nasty leather thing he looked like he'd had since the dark ages. Though, on second thought…"
Rose looked back at Clara and started to giggle.
"Now, it's a quite sensible black one. That is until you see the bright red lining."
"The boys don't wear long coats, but Cas does. Whenever he shows up it seems to blow in the non-existent wind for a good twenty seconds afterward. He is quite gorgeous, though. It's almost enough to turn a girl straight!"
"Long coats have always done it for me." Molly spoke with such a small squeak that the other four women almost didn't hear her. She blushed again.
"Well, certainly no one is denying that one. You should have seen the Doctor in his long brown canvas. Nearly hit the floor. He looked like a superhero in tennies."
Rose grinned bemusedly. Charlie smirked at her expression, bringing the cup of tea to her lips.
"Once, Sherlock was leaving the lab and his tails didn't quite clear the door as it closed. He tugged at them three times before admitting defeat and reopening the door."
Charlie snorted into her tea, spitting it slightly as the other women dissolved into giggles.
"The Doctor did the same thing in the TARDIS doors. The door locked behind him, and he was just stood there, stuck. I was a good five minutes of 'no, Clara, I don't need help, thank you. I'm a Time Lord, I've wrestled Daleks!' I finally unlocked the door when it stopped being funny."
"Bet you he was in a right strop after that!"
"His brow was so wrinkled I thought his eyebrows were going to pop right off!"
Charlie chuckled to herself and spoke under her breath just before she had a sip of tea.
"Pondering intensely."
"Sorry?"
"One day, Dean came home after a hunt. He'd gotten into some stupid fight with Sam, so he was in a really foul mood. He sat at the meeting table for an hour, just staring at the wall. He looked like Superman trying to use heat vision. I told him to stop sulking like a baby. He glanced over at Sam, obviously still pissed off, and said, 'Alpha males don't sulk, they ponder intensely.'"
"You're joking!"
"I swear on Gene Roddenberry's grave!"
"I'm using that next time Sherlock's in a mood! I wish he would just ponder intensely. Do you know how many times I've had to dig bullets out of my walls?"
"That's nothing. You should have seen the mess I had to clean up at the morgue after he stabbed a pig 37 times with a harpoon!"
Clara's face contorted into a look as if she'd just smelled something horribly rotten.
"It was a dead pig."
The group again dissolved into laughter.