A/N: I'm currently working on my 50th fix-it fic (tentatively to be called Bad Wolf Girl) but wanted to post this for the holiday. :)
Happy Thanksgiving to my US readers! And to my non-US readers Happy Americans Eat A Ton Of Food (Just Like Any Other Day – Seriously Why Do They Do This, Christmas Is Like A Month Away) Day!
Allons-y!
. . .
Thanksgiving
It is the third Wednesday of July when the Doctor and Rose land on Plymouth Rock on the fourth Thursday of November. At least according to the calendar hanging on her bedroom wall.
According to the Pilgrims that greet them the moment they step out of the TARDIS – Rose dressed in a conservative, Puritan-style dress and the Doctor still in his pinstripes – it is a day to give thanks.
Innocently, the Doctor suggests Thanksgiving. Rose shoots him a look.
His only reply is a waggle of his eyebrows.
Well, how do we know I wasn't the one to invent it? he asks her later, over dinner, leaning across the heavily-laden table to whisper in her ear. I am rather brilliant like that.
"And so humble." Rose grins at him.
Never said that, did I? He winks and she laughs, catches several elderly women giving them scandalized looks, and squeezes his arm for good measure.
They eat until their bellies are full to bursting – turkey and goose and rabbit (which Rose refuses to touch), squash and beans and mashed potatoes, pumpkin and apple and blueberry pies – all with only a minor, drunken scuffle that the Doctor breaks up fairly quickly.
It is pitch-black by the time they begin their halting journey back to the TARDIS – Rose groaning and clutching her stomach, the Doctor already planning their Thanksgiving in that extra-manic, bubbly way he gets when he's just a little bit drunk.
It'll be great, Rose, you'll see. There'll be turkey – ooh, did I tell you, I saw these great birds over on Barcelona, the planet Barcelona, they're s'posed to be even tastier. We could get one o' them – whaddya think? He mistakes her nauseous expression. Not that we have to kill it . . . but we can always get a turkey back home too – at your mum's, I mean. Kinda my second home, innit? Ooh, we should invite your mum, too, shouldn't we? (Rose makes a mental note to remind him of this in future). She might not be able to cook but she makes great tea – and tea, tea goes great with pie! Pie – it's like liquid cake! And there are so many types – pumpkin, apple, strawberry-rhubarb, banana, now that's my favorite. And it's such a fun word – banaaana, banaaana. . . . I swear, you humans come up with the best . . . you alright, Rose?
That's when he scoops her up, seemingly unfazed by the mountain of food residing in his digestive tract (damn that superior Time Lord thyroid thingymabobber of his) and carries her over the threshold into the TARDIS.
. . .
It is the fourth Thursday of November – according to the calendar tacked to Rose's bedroom wall – when Jackie comes into the TARDIS, carrying a store-bought pumpkin pie and complaining about crazy aliens (the Doctor shrugs)and you know, this holiday doesn't even exist over here in Britain ("It's just about giving thanks, Jackie," says the Doctor)and you're carving that bird all wrong ("Oh, you want me to take your advice on cooking, Jackie?" the Doctor laughs) and what's that thing you're pointing at it – is that some weird sex thing? ("It's a sonic screwdriver, Jackie," the Doctor explains and doesn't offer another word).
But when he meets her eyes he smiles and, as he hands her a bowl of cranberry sauce to put on the table, Rose knows exactly what she gives thanks for.
. . .
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Let me know in a review!
On a totally random side note . . . I recently read The Stone Rose (one of the official DW books) and it is so shippy and perfect for any Doctor/Rose fan – they kiss, seriously smush their beautiful faces together and kiss! I highly recommend it – so read it over the long weekend!