Popcorn
Rose wakes one sleep cycle to the smell of popcorn, finding the Doctor eating it while watching "Hot Fuzz" 10/Rose
It was the smell. Crisp and hot and buttery. Rose sat stock-straight up in bed, throwing her fists onto the pink duvet. She recognized it, it was very familiar, but…what? Rose closed her eyes, inhaling. The Doctor rarely slept, often opting to stay up 'round the clock to make repairs or indulge in whatever hobbies he'd picked up over the years. Cooking had not been, last time she checked, one of those hobbies. She sniffed again. Still not a clue. Hesitating briefly (What if he was in the middle of something private?), Rose crept out of her room, padding down the grated hall in fluffy pink slippers, tugging her robe around her tighter.
The scent eventually lead her to the living room. Well, makeshift living room. It was the Doctor's movie room, which she had converted to a sitting room upon her arrival. He didn't do much telly watching prior to Rose moving in. Once she had settle and introduced him to a few of her favourite shows, he'd practically become an addict, keeping better track of the going ons of What Not to Wear and Big Brother better than she did.
Rose reached the door and stopped. She heard voices coming from inside, but the bass wasn't right. Two of those voices were from the stereo, not living voices.
"Doctor…" Her voice trailed off upon the sight of him spread across the tomato-coloured couch, Converse-encases feet up over the back edge and in the air, head resting on one plump cushion. Spikes of brown hair can be seen over the edge of the arm. Did he ever gel it, or was the spikiness a natural effect?
The position and posture wasn't the weird thing. The big teal plastic bowl of popcorn and the over-the-top zombie massacre scene of Shaun of the Dead was. She didn't even know he knew Shaun of the Dead existed. But there he was, all laughing his gob off at the sight of blood and gore. Him, the pacifist alien! Chuckling over a zombie parody! Rose, still in the door way, blinked. The Doctor glanced up, looked back the screen, then look back to her, sitting up quick enough to spill about half of his popcorn.
"Rose!" It is practically a gasp. She would have giggled, if she wasn't so shell-shocked herself. He ran one lanky hand through already mussed hair, and the effect is absolutely adorable.
"What are you doing?" She gestured to the room at large. His eyes follow her hands as she moves to tug the robe tighter around her body, shivering.
"Are you cold?" He asked, concerned. Without another sound, he tugs her on to the couch beside him, passing her a microfiber throw from the nearest armchair. She spreads it over her half-bare legs, smoothing out all the wrinkles uselessly.
"I…couldn't sleep—"
"Didn't even try, I'm sure."
He ignored her. "—And thought I'd catch up on my comedies. This is rather good. Loads like Hot Fuzz. Good movie, that. Lots of blunt humor."
When she blinks he coughed and excused himself, making a mumbled comment about the future and not giving away spoilers. Rose shook her head, rolling her eyes heavily.
"Have you seen this?" The Doctor inclined his head to the screen. Rose admitted that she had in the theaters with Mickey less than two years ago. At Mickey's name the Time Lord scowls. Rose chooses to ignore this, deciding instead to prattle on a bit about just how much she enjoyed the film.
"May I…?"
"What?" His eye widened, then—"Oh, yes! Of course!"
She's nestled against his shoulder, contentedly watching Simon Pegg kill his zombie mum when the Doctor asked quietly, "Couldn't sleep, eh?"
Rose snorted. "Not with that smell."
"Wot? Wot smell?" He demanded.
"This smell!" She dug a hand into the popcorn bowl, lifting up a small handful of the buttery stuff. "Crept into my room, woke me up. Not very subtle, yeah? What, did you spike it with garlic?"
From the slight colour in his cheeks, she knew she was not far off.
"Like it?"
Rose munches slowly. "Yeah. I suppose."
"Good." They settle back in to watch the last fifteen minutes of the film, Rose occasionally sneaking a piece of popcorn, eyes glued to the screen. At one point, the Doctor, who had been consuming a rather large handful of the buttery treat, had laughed allowed, spraying the camel-coloured carpet with bits of half-chewed pieces of yellow popcorn. Rose shrieked indignantly, scooting away from the nasty downpour. The alien apologized meekly. Seeing his chastised frown, lower lip wobbling dramatically, Rose leaned against him once more, sighing contentedly when his arms hesitantly raised and lowered to wrap around her.
The pattern of breath is what lulls her to sleep, along with his doubt heartbeat. Then he follows, and they lay across the couch until long after the credits roll. When Rose does wake nearly an hour later she simply pulls the ottoman closer, tugs on the microfiber throw, and snuggles closer.
There was no real reason to wake.
I need to post two more prompts and some 9! Dang, it's been a while. Lately I've have rush of 11 and 10, time to shake this part up with some 9 action. I dearly miss him.