Rose: Come on Doctor, lets go to the beach!
Doctor: Just let me put some suitable footwear on.
"Where did you even find those?” Rose choked out, disgust contorting her face as the Doctor exited the changing tent at Myrtle Beach.
"TARDIS wardrobe room." The Doctor propped a heel up on the sand, waving his bare toes back and forth. "Yours?"
"Debenhams. On sale, three pounds," she responded absentmindedly, still trying to figure out whether the TARDIS was punishing him or her.
"Seems a bit heavy for sandals, but whatever you like. I don’t judge." He offered his arm to Rose. She didn’t notice, as her attention was fixated on the train wreck he dared to call beach shoes.
She stuck out her tongue with finality. ”Well I do, and they’re rubbish. Tan lines and all, you’d think that…”
Rose trailed off as her eyes skimmed upwards. Yes, they were blue with red pinstripes. Yes, they matched his so-called ‘shoes’. But there was no way on any planet that what he was wearing could be considered appropriate swimwear…
Someone just favorited my two favorite things that I’ve ever written, and it really makes me happy knowing that someone else shares my tastes!
Happy Birthday, TenII!
“Doctor? How old are you?” Tony Tyler asked as he took a slice of birthday cake with extra icing—the bit in the top corner that held the letters ‘H-a-p’.
The Doctor tried to swallow his own mouthful. He’d cut his name out of the center of the cake, and was eating it one letter at a time. The ‘t’ was giving him issues, as it had been lovingly detailed in a decorative font.
“Ooh, good question.” He gulped some milk and continued. “One your sister and I have been debating for quite some time now, actually.” The Doctor leaned over and whispered loudly, “She tells me sometimes I act about ten.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Tony, who giggled.
“Can’t wait ‘til I’m ten,” Tony admitted. “Then I can play on the big football team at school. Everything fun’s ten and up, even in the lunchroom. The big kids don’t get milk; they get lemonade and can buy ice creams and everything!”
“Only if their Mum says it’s all right!” the group heard from the kitchen.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mum!”
Rose smiled, remembering the same conversation with their mother when she was younger. “Oh, ten’s all right, I suppose,” she added. “But nine was a lot of fun, too…” She winked at the Doctor, who choked on his cake again.
He recovered his composure quickly by taking another swig of milk, then lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back in his chair. “Let’s see, I think I’m somewhere between five and nine-hundred six. Hard to remember sometimes.”
Tony rolled his eyes again, sure the Doctor was being silly. “Well, I think you must be closer to a thousand.”
“Oh?” the Doctor looked at Rose, who shrugged, seemingly as stumped as he was.
“Yeah.” Tony took a bite of cake and continued. “Mum’s always going on about how she knows more than me because she’s older,” he wiped his face, smearing icing along one cheek, “and you know way more than she does.”
In the kitchen, a plate shattered. Tony continued on with his cake, oblivious to his mother’s rapidly approaching footsteps. As the door swug open, Rose and the Doctor caught each other’s gaze…