title: Grooming Techniques
writing time: 45 mins.
characters: Rose, Doc #10, TARDIS
notes: Sometime during season 2. More than a little Rose x 10. Disgustingly fluffy. Not my characters & etc.
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"So you're saying we're lost."
"Temporarily misplaced."
"In the middle of time and space."
"Strictly speaking, somewhere in the northwest corner."
"And you've done what to the TARDIS, exactly?"
"I haven't done anything!" said the Doctor indignantly. "I have no idea why she's so –"
But he didn't get to finish explaining what the TARDIS was so, since at that moment the console erupted in a flurry of sparks, and the Doctor and Rose had to stumble away to avoid being burned to a crisp.
"Bet it's the mallet," said Rose, eyes watering from the smoke. "Nobody likes getting hit with a mallet."
"Standard operating procedure," said the Doctor between coughs.
"Bet she doesn't think so," said Rose dryly.
The Doctor got to his feet, still waving smoke away from his face, vaguely aware that his hair was now standing at odd angles. Well. Odder than usual. "I'll remind you that I'm the expert here," he said sternly to Rose. "You haven't got a long-standing, illustrious history of space travel reaching back to –" He noticed Rose was looking at him funny. "What?"
She was biting back a snort. "You've got – on your –" She snickered and pointed to her nose.
The Doctor frowned. "What?"
Now the snickering was more of a giggle. "It's just a smudge – and your hair –" She was obviously closing in on full laughter territory.
The Doctor frowned a little more. "What?"
"Your nose, it's –" But there she went, giggling again.
"What's wrong with my nose?" the Doctor demanded, rubbing his face. "It hasn't fallen off, has it? And I went to all that trouble to make a new one –" He looked down at his hand, now covered in soot. "Oh," he said.
"You got a handkerchief or something?" Rose asked, still snickering.
"What are you, my mum?" muttered the Doctor as he rooted through his pockets until he found something suitable. "Right, here we go," he said, unearthing a bit of cloth from his left pocket and using it to rub his face vigorously for a few seconds.
Rose made a face and held out her hand. "Here, let me."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You humans and your ape-like tendencies. If you were left to your own devices, you'd probably spend all your time grooming each other –"
"Yeah, yeah, give it here," said Rose, snatching the handkerchief out of his hand and attacking his face with it.
"Ow, watch it!"
"Hold still, y'big baby."
He did hold still then, a bit begrudgingly, and as he wasn't exercising his giant gob, he had time to notice that Rose Tyler was standing awfully close to him. She had her eyes slightly narrowed like she did when she was concentrating, and there was still a bit of a smile in them. Her mouth quirked up at one corner, and he could feel her breath on his face. Nice breath, not too smelly, just human.
"There," she said, rubbing one last time at his nose, but gentler now. She looked up at his hair and bit her lip mock-seriously. "Don't know what we'll do about the hair, though. Might just have to give it up for lost."
He took time out from having trouble breathing to notice that he also having difficulty thinking straight. Then she reached up and touched his singed hair, and he had the distinct impression that if he were to try to speak right now, he would come out sounding like a babbling idiot. Well. More of a babbling idiot than usual. Obviously the minor explosion had rattled his brain – hers, too, given the way she was looking at him.
It was almost like time stopped – except, of course, that time didn't stop, not like this – and then, quite suddenly, they were clearing their throats and moving away from each other.
"Okay – so – here –" Rose thrust the handkerchief in his face.
"Yeah – thanks –" He took it carefully not touching her fingers, and stuffed it back in his pocket.
"So how long's it gonna take to fix this thing?" she asked, not looking at him.
"Oh, uh, an hour or two, give or take."
She was backing further away, moving her hands nervously. "Yeah, okay, well, I'm probably a mess, so I'll just go clean up…."
"Right, sure," he agreed. Babbling idiot.
"Okay, so," she said, and practically ran out of the control room.
The Doctor blinked several times, then turned back to the console, which was looking at him in an extremely condescending way, as consoles went.
"Shut it, or I'll get out the mallet," he told the TARDIS threateningly, but he still got the distinct impression she was laughing at him.
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