As always, I don't own Doctor Who.
Rose glanced at the clock once again, her mood growing a bit irritable. 5:30PM. Tonight was her and the Doctor's date night and he promised her they'd go see that rom-com she was so excited to see. He never saw the point of them before, but after the Metacrisis he'd grown fond of them. (Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. But Rose knew. She supposed it was a bit of Donna's personality asserting itself.)
The film started at 7:30, and she knew it would be wise to get some proper dinner first lest the Doctor overdose on popcorn and sweets. Again.
He left the flat over two hours ago, muttering that he desperately needed a haircut and the longer it was the flatter it got. (Jackie had once offered to cut it for him, seeing she used to be a hairdresser. But he dare trust her with scissors around his head.) Rose offered to go with him, but he insisted he could do it himself and she relented. It was only a haircut after all, and the barber was only a couple blocks away. Just how much trouble could he get into?
Given their history… probably a lot.
Rose reached for her mobile and was just about to text him to see just how much longer he'd be when she heard the key turn in the front door.
"There you are!" She sighed as she exited the lounge and walked into the front hall. The late afternoon sun streaming in from the still open door dazzled her slightly and she squinted at him. "Just how long does it take to have a simple…"
Her question died on her lips as her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight and she got a proper look at him. And gasped.
There, standing before her stood the Doctor, and his hair looked like it was on fire it was so red. He beamed at her.
"Whaddya think?"
Rose couldn't answer. Not right away. She'd have to wait until she stopped laughing.