Soaking Socks

Prompt: "Soaking Socks"

From: KI (guest)

Words: 341

ErinKenobi2893: I'm pretty sure that, in a alternate universe, the Doctor rules the universe! :P He's like-minded to many people, whether it be children or adults, and that is one of his many extraordinary qualities. Also, no one ever said denial was a bad place to be. The people are great! Not that I've ever been there. . . *shifty eyes*

ThePro-LifeCatholic: Thanks! :)

The TARDIS, as the Doctor had once explained, was female. He had told Donna in the outmost confidence, quietly and far away from the ship, that despite her function and appearance, was a sentient being. Donna had already suspected as much, so the Doctor's description of the TARDIS's moods, thoughts, and beliefs did not have much of an effect on her.

After that, despite already doing so, she made an extra effort to be nice to the ship, to cook her own breakfast if she felt the TARDIS was tired, and to clean up after herself. All things the Doctor did as well, she realized.

One of the first things Donna had been warned about were the TARDIS's mood swings, which, in the Doctor's words, rivalled that of any human female. A description she took offence to, both for herself and the ship.

Donna looked in satisfaction at a large pile of yellow yarn, then, with even more excitement, at a bigger pile of various knitted items. Those that she didn't keep for herself or give to the Doctor, had been added to the Wardrobe or given to those they met who were in need.

She was about to start making a replica of the Doctor's trench coat when she heard a loud, if distant, yell.

As far as she knew, nothing could have breached the TARDIS's doors, and if something had, she was sure the Doctor or the ship would have warned her. So, with more curiosity than apprehension, she left her room and went in the direction of the shout.

The ship led her to the kitchen, a spacious, yet homely, tiled room. The Doctor, the source of the noise just as she had thought, was in the middle of it, growling at the floor. Or at his socked feet, she couldn't really tell.

"They're wet," he said softly, with the voice of one resigned to his fate.

"'Scuse me?"

He wiggled his toes in reply, "My socks."

Donna felt something like a satisfied giggle come from the TARDIS.

There are few things worse than standing in a puddle when you're wearing socks.