The Doctor is sitting at the dining room table with that morning's paper. He wears the spectacles that he still doesn't actually need as he glances at headlines. He hums absently, some tune he can't identify, probably heard once on the radio. He's made a point of reading the paper before dinner instead of breakfast, even though Rose laughs at him for it. He's told her it doesn't matter if he's a few hours late, not in the grand scheme of things, especially with stories like this. Pete's World, it seems, has very similar news to that of their original universe. Does anyone actually care about whose design that person's wearing?
He's distracted from judging people's interests by a muffled exclamation from Rose in the kitchen. "You alright in there?" he calls. "D'you want me to come in and help out?"
"No!" comes the answer. The Doctor frowns. Rose sounds like she's having trouble, but she insisted on making this dinner on her own, though he can't imagine where she got that idea from, since he's proven himself willing and able to do his part when it comes to housework. He can't even go in and find out what what's wrong. She's warned him that unless she starts screaming he is not permitted into the kitchen, and so he's stuck at the table waiting for Rose to bring him a meal he would help with if she would let him.
A brief pause ensues, during which he sets down the newspaper and listens carefully. Rose clearly has not resolved whatever issue has her occupied. The Doctor half-rises from his seat. "You sure you don't-"
"NO!" she says again, more forcefully and in a manner that is strongly reminiscent of her mother.
"Alright," he says quickly, cowed, and sits again. He fiddles with the bottom edge of his shirt, disliking the feeling of being deliberately unhelpful. This time, he is quiet for a little longer before he ventures to speak again. "What's wrong?"
Rose gives an exasperated sigh, a little out of breath. "S'nothing. Just this-stupid-jar! won't! open!"
"I could get the sonic," he offers immediately, glad he's had access to Torchwood technology so that he could build another. Even a part-alien has perks, apparently. That or maybe being married to a high-ranking staff member. Either way, he's got a sonic screwdriver again and he and Rose both know it could make short work of any jar.
"M'fine," Rose says, and then he can tell she holds her breath as she has another go at it. It doesn't work. "Stay there."
So he does. He waits, fidgeting from inactivity more than impatience.
A minute later Rose emerges from the kitchen, triumphantly holding an open pickle jar. "Did it m'self," she announces smugly, setting it down in front of him.
"Wow. Humans are amazing." He hides his smile. Rose rolls her eyes at him.
"You're half-human now, you know," she tells him, amused, arms crossed.
He looks at her. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, trying the domestic approach. "Yeah," he says, and pulls her in for a kiss. "And I'm thankful for that every day."
A/N: Hey regular readers: finally some actual fluff, amirite? In other news, in case you were wondering, social expectations made Rose want to try it just this once but I hope it is very clear that this is not a wife-belongs-in-kitchen dynamic! Tentoo is a good supportive helpful husband (who lets his wife try things like this even if he'd rather help because he respects her decisions) and in any case Rose is way too independent to let him pull anything like that. Anyway. Hope y'all enjoyed! I would love it if you'd review and let me know what you thought!