Just a fun little piece I've toyed with. Characters aren't mine, of course.
The hammock was a nice touch. Rose tilted her sunglasses down a bit, looking out over the edge of them to see how the Doctor was occupying his time. Sitting fully clothed in his suit with his back against a tree, sat the Doctor tinkering with the radio. Rose rolled her eyes before closing them again and smirked. You could take the Doctor out of the TARDIS, but you couldn't make him stop being himself.
The vacation they were currently on was long overdue. In the last six weeks, the Doctor had gotten Rose into a number of unpleasant situations, most of which ended with her being arrested, shot at and in one case, accidentally engaged. She talked him into a quick visit home to collect some clothes and then pouted her way into a nice relaxing getaway to a remote cabin in the woods. While she was thoroughly enjoying doing nothing, she knew how unhappy it must have made the Doctor. Did he need to make it so obvious that he was having a bad time though?
"Please tell me you aren't breaking the radio. Can't you just relax for 10 minutes without sonic-ing something?"
"I'll have you know I am NOT breaking the radio, I am enhancing it. We're so far from civilization in this rusty shack that all it was picking up was talk radio and something with a fiddle that grated against my ears. There, that oughta do it!"
He set the box down and switched it on. As he spun the dial it sampled music and dialog from the middle east, a newscast from London and a bit of an Australian morning show. She sighed; he really did come first in jiggery-pokery.
"You're so daft! It's a RUSTIC cabin, not a rusty shack."
"Rose Tyler, I fail to see the difference. There isn't a thing to do here, all the food is canned and tastes like metal and worst of all, it's a Sunday! You've got me out of my TARDIS on a Sunday, Sundays are boring."
"Sundays are supposed to be boring, Doctor, that's what people like about them. The rest of the week they run from here to there doing errands and domestics, something you don't have a clue about, but on Sunday they just relax and look for something on the telly. There never is anything good on, but it's nice to just flip the channels and hope."
"I never will understand the complete fascination with the telly? You sit on your bum and watch people do things instead of getting out there and having the adventure for yourself."
"Yeah? Well, I can think of quite of few of our recent adventures that I would have preferred to watch someone else have!"
"Oi! Those weren't my fault Rose! And besides, I apologized for that. Why do you think I agreed to bring you to this mosquito infested sinkhole?"
"Say what you want, I think it's lovely!"
The Doctor shot her a look before smacking another critter on his neck and excused himself to go brood inside the cabin for a bit.
After a few minutes Rose had run out of her cold lemonade and one could only relax for so long when there was a Time Lord about. She slid out of the hammock, gliding her sandals on and started toward the cabin.
What was so bad about it? It was a nice little log cabin with no other houses around for miles. There was a nice little fire-pit, the hammock of course, and a decent little kitchen with a stocked bar. She walked around the kitchen, pouring herself a bit of amaretto and retired to the cozy living room. She wasn't sure where he'd wandered off to, but she was sure he was old enough to take care of himself. Plenty old enough, now that she thought about it. She smiled at the thought, grabbed her book and began to immerse herself in the story before slowly drifting off to sleep.
The Doctor had brooded around the cabin for about as long as he could brood, but since Rose was elsewhere and no one was around to watch him brood, he soon gave that up. He read through every book in the cabin, taking all of 4 minutes to finish them. Next he went to the kitchen, looking for something remotely edible but left disappointed. Walking to the living room, he caught a flash of pink; The sleeve of Roses shirt. She was fast asleep in the sofa, her book on the floor, having fallen out of her hand.
He quietly bent down to pick it up and placed it on the table beside her. She made a quiet sound in her sleep and shifted slightly, rolling onto her side. Slowly he sat down on the floor in front of her; sure he had looked at her plenty of times, but she looked so peaceful in her sleep. Suddenly she smirked and he wasn't sure why, but that made him a bit nervous. He reached out a tentative hand and touched her temple, brushing the hair away from her eyes.
She didn't move. Well, since his hand was here already, maybe it wouldn't hurt to probe her mind a bit to find the source of that smile. Entering her mind, he was instantly able to find what she had been dreaming about, and he was taken aback. Flattered, yes, but completely taken by surprise. He recoiled from her mind so quickly that she was startled awake. Being ripped from sleep was shocking enough, but the last thing Rose expected upon opening her eyes was to be face to face with very time lord she'd been dreaming about.
Rose opened her eyes and screamed, and out of reflex, punched her arm straight out, effectively knocking the Doctor backwards into the table. She could only watch in horror as he slammed into the hard wood of the table, only to have her glass of amaretto and melted ice spill over him.
"Oh God, Doctor I'm so sorry! You startled me and I didn't mean to hit you, but what the hell were you doing that close to me anyway?"
He was about to protest but suddenly realized he didn't have a good excuse. She hadn't noticed he'd been inside her mind and he preferred to keep it that way. His mind wandered back to her dream and suddenly he had a very hard time looking at her. The skimpy lingerie she was wearing in the dream was quite a daring set and he was certain he'd never seen them in the TARDIS laundry before. He made a mental note to snoop around for them, thought he wasn't sure what he'd with that information if he happened to find them. Did she really have dreams about him in that way? For that matter, had he ever had dreams of her like that? If he was being honest with himself, he slept so seldom that when exhaustion finally demanded it, his dreams were few and far between. Now daydreams however, those were another story.