taxonomites | twelve | location: streets of taxon |

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twelve | location: streets of taxon |

The Doctor has to start working eventually. And while nobody hates the idea of working quite like the Doctor hates working, he hates the idea of being back in prison even more than that.

So, behold the Doctor, carrying things from a replication unit to the square where he's working on his next project. At present, the things he's creating are three-foot pieces of metal. He's spitting out a few at a time, and then moving them to a large pile where he has more already stacked up.

There's also a series of papers he's had made up sitting not far off from the stacks of sheet metal. They read: MISSING: ONE SONIC SCREWDRIVER. HONESTLY, NOW, STEALING ISN'T RIGHT AT ALL, IS IT?

Oh, he's also got a plate of pink-frosted cupcakes. A Time Lord's gotta eat, y'all.

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"Right," he says. "Exactly. Right."

He sighs. "On a scale of one to very very much, how much trouble am I in?"

Rose ponders this, sipping at her tea and admittedly letting him squirm a bit.

"I'd say one very." Another sip of her tea. "We'll put that on the back burner for now. Where'd you sleep? Did you actually sleep any at all?"

She's interested in knowing if he's safe. She'll worry about 'trouble' after that.

"Yeah, I found somewhere safe," he says. "Nothing for you to worry about, though."

If he tells her the real reason, she'll worry. He'll just try to drop it as fast as possible.

"Hand me that bit of metal there, would you?"

Yes because she's not going to worry anyway. Silly Doctor.

"Somewhere safe? A high tree branch or some place with a proper bed?"

She's not entirely sure what she should be worrying about right now but he says there's nothing for her to worry about. That means there's something she should be worried about.

She picks up the sheet of metal he indicates and hands it to him.

Edited 2010-04-18 23:34 (UTC)

"A proper bed," the Doctor promises, taking it from her. "And, really, Rose. I spent a month sleeping on the floor of a cell. Granted, they took the furniture away because I broke out, but still."

He sniffs, and tosses the sheet metal with the rest.

"Now! Here's the big question. You are ready for the big question, aren't you?"

"All the more reason you need a proper bed," she tells him.

The subject is not dropped but 'the big question' now that's an exciting and promising thing so she grins, giggling just a bit.

"Oy of course! M'always ready for the big question."

"We've got all of the equipment here, but where do we build it?" he asks. "To keep it out of prying eyes."

He nods up to the false sky as if to indicate that the prying eyes are everywhere.

Rose glances up to the sky then back to the Doctor. "Ought to be able to find a warehouse big enough. Or a basement. Make it a workspace."

She glances around the square. "I could take a bit of a walk, see what I can find close by."

"If you want," the Doctor says. He doesn't really want her to leave, but he's not about to admit that aloud.

"Thanks for the tea, by the way," he adds, awkwardly.

There's something in his voice or his eyes that makes her pause. She shrugs and smiles at him. "Something I can do later. You need someone to hand you bits of metal right now." Then she smiles at him. "Ought to make a pretty good team. You doin'...whatever it is you're doing and me handing you bits and pieces."

"And fetching tea," the Doctor adds, not particularly helpfully.

"You know, though, before I drop you back off to your timeline, we could---you know. Go somewhere. I promised Tara a trip to see Mozart. If you want, you could, you know. Come along with us."

It's perhaps a little premature to make plans for once he has the TARDIS back, but it's one of the few things that keeps him going as of late.

That smile? It's blinding sun going super nova bright. It's not an agreement to not drop her off at all but it's a beginning.

"Oh I don't know...think I could manage a trip to see Mozart."

She'll try to finagle another out of him after that and then another and so on.

"But only the one," he says, firmly. "You've got a proper timeline to get back to."

He shouldn't be doing this, of course. But then again, if he were really clever, he wouldn't be seeing her at all.

But how could he not?

She nods in response to his 'firm' reminder. "Have to start listening up on Mozart. Never really was a fan."

She knows The Rollings Stones, The Clash, & The Ramones better than she does Mozart. It's not necessarily her sort of thing but it's a trip with the Doctor. She'd go see a meeting of parliament with him.

The Doctor sniffs and picks up a cupcake. "Oh, you know more of his stuff than you think you do," he says, taking a bite.

"Bum-ba-bumbumba-bum-bum, bum-ba-bum-buuum," he hums around his food.

Now she's laughing and humming with him.

"Guess you're right. One of those blokes that has his music everywhere."

"Like Jason Mraz, but significantly more important to history, yes," the Doctor agrees with a smile.

He turns around to look at her, and gives a little gesture to the side of her face. "You've got----"

"We should see him in concert after wards. Make a proper comparison." It's research! He can't turn down research.

Her brow furrows and she swipes at the side of her face, completely missing it of course. "Did I get it?"

"No, you've got---"

He steps over and carefully cleans the side of her face with his thumb, feeling only a little awkward by their closeness.

"Should pay attention to what you're doing," he says, offering her his frosting-covered thumb.

"Messy eater I guess," she giggles, leaning forward to lick the frosting off his thumb. Her eyes catch his and for just a second it's more than this. She pulls back, licking her lips then forces herself to make a joke. "Doctor flavored frosting. Ought to package that," she teases him.

Possibly a 'could be taken as dirty joke'.

"Right," the Doctor agrees, more than a little embarrassed by how breathy his voice comes out at that. Rose really needs to stop doing this, she's driving him rather mad.

"Taken a few flirting lessons in our time apart, have you?" he asks, trying for teasing.

Oh the breathy little voice makes her squeal silently. Outwardly her reaction is just a big grin.

"Maybe you just haven't been 'round me enough to be immune, Doctor," she teases back. Or maybe he's noticing her in a different way. She's not sure which but either way, she's okay with it.

"Well, we'll have to change that, then," the Doctor says with a grin. "Now that I'm a sort-of free man, we'll make sure that we don't waste any time at all."

"You're a new productive sort of Doctor. Working and not wasting time. I like it," she teases him. "Could take a bit you know. You were abnormally grumpy the first time 'round. Think it canceled out the flirting. By the time you got 'round to this incarnation you were already immune."

It's her theory anyway.

"Productive," the Doctor says the word like she's insulted him. "I beg your pardon, Rose Tyler, but I am impossibly lazy and self-satisfied, and don't you pretend otherwise."

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