Fayth (faythbrady) wrote,
Fayth
faythbrady

Fic- Gold, Rose and soft

Title- Gold, Rose and soft
Author- Fayth
Show/Ship- Doctor Who. Ten/Rose
Rating- PGF/PG/YT
Disclaimer- I really want Detective Carlisle. I'll pay postage!
Prompt- #25- Yellow, pink and Fluffy.
Summary- What the Doctor was thinking in New Earth. (Hence spoliers for New Earth)


A/N- Part of the Happy! Who ficlets. Mini problem- I was writing this and wondered what was going through the Doctor's head before hand; why was he so distracted and why does he hate hospitals. I wrote a piece BUT it was more angsty!who. I said to myself  "Self! No, no, no. We're doing Happy! who fic" so did I take it out? Couldn't be buggered. Left it in. But put it at the end. Enjoy. Or not, either way.
>>>>>>>>>

Rose pointed to a white-wimple clad nun.


“They're cats.”


He sighed, half amused, half disappointed. “Now, don't stare... think what you look like to them, all...” he looked her up and down.


Gods, she was beautiful.


Her hair shone in the bright lights like sparkling sun rays, the white-gold highlights making his fingers itch to stroke them. The soft strands framed a delicate face the same complexion as her name, her cheeks dusky pink, making her eyes stand out more.


Her deep blue shirt enhanced both her trim figure and her healthy skin tone and she wasn’t wearing as much make-up as usual, it made her look fresher, more alive and sweeter—something that he would never say to her face for fear of a Jackie Tyler type slap.


She reminded him of a strawberry, something he wanted to sink his teeth into and feel the delicious flesh on his tongue, the sweetness on his lips.


He swallowed hard.


Rose raised an eyebrow as his eyes lingered on her cleavage longer than his other incarnation would have let himself.


She was gold and rose, sparkling and gentle, valuable and romantic. When she’d worn that fluffy hooded bomber jacket back at Christmas he’d wanted to nuzzle into the fluffy hood and sniff at her hair, drag his lips along her soft cheek and kiss those pouting lips. 

Gold, rose and soft all tangled and twisted. Gold, Rose and soft. Yellow, pink and fluffy.


Clearly this regeneration was more tactile than the last. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to smell her, to just sit and watch her for hours.


Watch her like she was watching him.


Ah.


“Pink and yellow,” he said quickly. Change the subject! “That's where I'd put the shop!”




And the bits all together goes a little something like this...

Yellow, Pink and fluffy

 

Hospitals had always made him feel somewhat uneasy. Maybe it was the certain knowledge that if they knew what had just walked through the doors he’d be sedated and dissected quicker than you could say “Time Lord”.

Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that they reminded him of the short life span of some of his companions; like the one behind him, staring around in wonder at the landscape of New Earth.


“Time for sightseeing later!” he said, tugging on her hand. “Let’s see who left the message on the psychic-paper, must be someone with a great deal of psychic energy to project a message that far and through the TARDIS interior. No idea who that could be.”


“Or why they’re in a hospital,” Rose mused as she danced along beside him, tuning back into the conversation. “I mean it’s not like it’s an intergalactic pager or something, is it? Cardiac arrest; ward 26, paging the Doctor.”


He grinned at her. “Cardiac arrest? Have you been watching Galaxy E.R. in the TARDIS?”


She blushed lightly. “It’s better than Casualty.”


“Well, Nurse Tyler, it’s not that kind of emergency. I hope.” He sighed as they reached the doors.

He hoped it wasn’t anything like that. Not like Rose meant it, of course, but someone who was sick and needed him. He didn’t have anything against sick people … not if he could help it.


The
Green Crescent sign almost screamed out what kind of place it was and he felt his skin crawl as his brain started to list all the different diseases that the place could contain.


Rose eyed him oddly. He shuffled his feet, even in his new body she could read him better than he’d like and she always knew when something was wrong and wasn’t afraid to call him on it.


“What is it?”


“I hate hospitals,” he confessed. 


Rose stared at him. “What?”


He shifted his shoulders. “I hate hospitals—full of dying and sick people— it’s not the most hygienic of places. Although saying that, any Green Crescent Moon hospitals have to be sanitised by law. Keeps the germs in … and isn’t that comforting. And the Doctors?” He shuddered and Rose laughed, opening the doors for him.


“Bit rich coming from you.”


“I can't help it! I don't like hospitals - they give me the creeps!”


The PA burst to life as Rose gave his hand a squeeze of comfort. She moved away to give him some space knowing that he hated to be crowded when he was uneasy.


He gave her a half-smile at the action, once again thanking his lucky stars that his ninth self had gone back for her.


Rose glanced around. “
Very smart. Not exactly NHS.”


Two nurses walked by and he gave them a quick smile, edging closer to Rose to try to ease his distaste.


“No shop,” he commented, tucking his hands into his pockets to stop himself reaching out for her hand again. “I like the little shop!”


I thought this far in the future, they'd have cured everything.”


“The Human Race moves on, but so do the viruses. It's an ongoing war.”


Wars he knew all about, wars he could fight. It was disease that was the real mystery to him. You could fight a war, how did you fight your own body?


He started to walk away, to hide his face from Rose so she couldn’t see the upset in his expression. Her gasp of surprise made him spin, half hoping that there was something to fight, something to distract him.


Rose pointed to a white-wimple clad nun.


“They're cats.”


He sighed, half amused, half disappointed. “Now, don't stare... think what you look like to them, all...” he looked her up and down.


Gods, she was beautiful.


Her hair shone in the bright lights like sparkling sun rays, the white-gold highlights making his fingers itch to stroke them. The soft strands framed a delicate face the same complexion as her name, her cheeks dusky pink, making her eyes stand out more.


Her deep blue shirt enhanced both her trim figure and her healthy skin tone and she wasn’t wearing as much make-up as usual, it made her look fresher, more alive and sweeter—something that he would never say to her face for fear of a Jackie Tyler type slap.


She reminded him of a strawberry, something he wanted to sink his teeth into and feel the delicious flesh on his tongue, the sweetness on his lips.


He swallowed hard.


Rose raised an eyebrow as his eyes lingered on her cleavage longer than his other incarnation would have let himself.


She was gold and rose, sparkling and gentle, valuable and romantic. When she’d worn that fluffy hooded bomber jacket back at Christmas he’d wanted to nuzzle into the fluffy hood and sniff at her hair, drag his lips along her soft cheek and kiss those pouting lips. 

Gold, rose and soft all tangled and twisted. Gold, Rose and soft. Yellow, pink and fluffy.


Clearly this regeneration was more tactile than the last. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to smell her, to just sit and watch her for hours.


Watch her like she was watching him.


Ah.


“Pink and yellow,” he said quickly. Change the subject! “That's where I'd put the shop!”

 

 


Well? Couldn't help the angst, i'm afraid. Sorry.
Tags: doctorwho, fic, prompt
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