calliopes_pen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
calliopes_pen) wrote2007-12-10 12:04 pm
calliopes_pen) wrote2007-12-10 12:04 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Resurrections And Conflagrations
Title: Resurrections And Conflagrations
Author:calliopes_pen
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 5016
Summary: The Doctor decides to do a bit of spring cleaning in the TARDIS’ attic--first, though, there’s an attempt to make breakfast which, naturally, goes horribly wrong.
Beta Readers: Thanks go out toseandc and nightrider101 for beta reading.
Notes: This was written for the OT3 ficathon hosted bywendymyr and dark_aegis. I was assigned dominique012. The three things requested were “a kiss, a happy ending, and fire.” Think of this as being set at some point after Rose, the Doctor, and Jack have been reunited, but in between visits from Martha and Donna. There is a very, very brief cameo appearance of the alien donuts from donutsweeper’s fanfics in this story, as well.
A roaring fire can be a wondrous thing. A Time Lord can toast marshmallows with his closest friends; you can keep yourself warm when stuck in a primitive time period; keep the wild animals away when camping out. It could even keep you company on a cold winter’s night.
Fire, the Doctor thought to himself with wide eyes, shouldn’t threaten to burn down the TARDIS’ kitchen. "All I wanted was fried green eggs and ham,” he petulantly wailed to himself. It had been his greatest foe--cooking. With all the finesse of someone horribly blind to the simplest of recipes, the Doctor had set it for 100 degrees hotter than one should place it--especially when making fried eggs, ham, pancakes, or even bacon.
The Master might be able to take over the world with an Archangel Network, but a few incorrect calculations with an oven could cause the Doctor to cause something on par with The Towering Inferno.
Even the Master had been in awe of his ineptness in the kitchen at one point, taking great pains to keep him far away from the Valiant’s, lest he find a way to destroy it. Perhaps that was another reason why he chose death rather than being kept--he remembered the trials and tribulations of his cooking. However, those thoughts weren’t helping him to stop things from rapidly spinning out of control in the here and now.
Shaking his head and grimacing, he watched as flames casually licked the ceiling before getting on top of things and finally springing into action--slapping futilely at it with a spare towel he found on the counter. When that, too, caught on fire he yelped and threw it to the table.
"Rose! Jack! If you’re nearby, do you think you could get the fire extinguisher? Oh, why didn’t I listen and install those blasted sprinklers when Donna told me what a bad cook I was?!"
It was an odd question, but even if they weren’t nearby the TARDIS would definitely relay the message to them wherever they were, no matter how near or far from him it was.
--
At that very instant, Jack was doing his daily constitutional exercises (also known as jogging) through the TARDIS via a prearranged path, in an attempt to keep his gorgeous figure throughout his eternal existence.
Panting a bit, Jack stopped his reverie for a moment and wiped his face with the towel he kept around his neck. Pausing, he sniffed the air and tensed. Smoke?
"Either the Doctor made the old girl really mad, and she zapped him until he was a crispy critter, or there’s trouble. And why am I talking to myself?" He sighed in frustration, before adding, "Jack Harkness, you’ve officially become old. Next stop a grey hair or three." Looking up, he put on his most charming tone, and spoke to the lady herself.
"Want to show me the way to the problem, sweetheart? Please?" As he spoke, he stroked a hand across the wall, knowing it was the best way to get something from her.
There was an answering tinkling sound that he smugly interpreted as a fond giggle, and he grinned. He still had it, even after being away for a while. After that method of persuasion, it was only a few mental nudges that showed him the way; just a quick turn to the left, and a few rearranged hallways brought him to the kitchen. The smoke from around the door might mean the Doctor burned something...but then again, since when have we had luck on our side?
Poking his head inside, Jack’s eyes widened as he saw that he was partially correct. The entirety of the room was practically on fire, and the poor Doctor seemed to have progressed to pouring small glasses of orange juice and milk over it…needless to say, it wasn’t helping things. The captain immediately ran for another room, and barged in without knocking. There was a momentary pang of disappointment that he hadn’t walked in on Rose changing clothes, but he quickly stifled it.
“You’re dressed? That’s…fantastic! Great! Toss me the fire extinguisher!”
She frowned for a moment. "It’s not in here, Jack!" Not knowing what was happening, (and giving him a brief, yet playful glare at the clothing comment) Rose Tyler merely raised an eyebrow before checking again. Nope, nothing. Jack grinned the way only he could--a mixture of flirting and politeness--saluted, and popped out as fast as he had arrived, still hunting for an extinguisher.
She would give him five minutes to get whatever it was settled, and then she would get the TARDIS to take her to the Doctor and the Captain. There was no telling what trouble they were getting into…
--
After quite a few wrong turns into interesting rooms, Captain Jack Harkness managed to (eventually) save the day for the Doctor. He burst through the doors and sprayed everything as thoroughly as possible, slightly pleased by the horrified shout as the Doctor got a good spray of the stuff on the back of his coat. He can dry clean it later…unless he sleeps in the thing.
Amidst the chaos, Jack actually found time for some brevity, with a smug shout to the other man of, "You know what? You really can’t cook!"
At any other time, the comeback of "Gee, do you think?!" from the Doctor would have had him laughing. Mostly because it sounded so much like the first Doctor he had known. However, the man was a little busy spraying flame retardant on flames that kept popping up.
It took a few more moments, but gradually things came back under control, with only one or two more spots needing the Jack Harkness Treatment.
The fire finally extinguished, Jack turned to the Doctor, shaking his head with a mixture of aggravation and what seemed to be fondness. He wiped some sweat from his forehead, before finally speaking.
"You couldn’t have put this thing closer? It wasn’t in Rose’s room, like I first thought--I found this extinguisher three hallways to the left, ten doors down--and it was in a room filled with boxes and boxes of Swiss cheese and powdered donuts. Strange mix, unless you’re going for a donut fondue."
He raised one charming eyebrow and smiled the seductive smile that, while it always managed to tear the truth out of people, it had also caused him to be prohibited from traveling to certain planets in the Atari system, under penalty of being locked up until he happened to somehow stay dead. "Something you want to tell me about that, Doc?" He suspected he knew the answer, but just wanted to watch the Doctor squirm.
The Doctor pointedly glanced away, finding the charred pattern on the floor-- Was that mark weeping angel shaped? Couldn’t be-- far more interesting. He didn’t want to admit his sordid tale of a cheese addiction to just anyone. Taking a long look at Jack, he silently corrected himself--well, anyone at all. Best to distract him with a tall tale of donuts.
In a desperate attempt to get things back on track, he clapped his hands and proceeded to weave an unusual excuse. "Never mind the cheese--that’s just a souvenir of a toppled government that thought it fun to build things from Swiss and rye. The donuts are really from another galaxy and will warp your mind if eaten! You didn’t touch them, right?”
At the confused shake of Jack’s head, the Doctor continued with a mischievous grin. "That’s good--very good! The Master ate one, once...led to some strange and rather fun mishaps and I don’t usually like sharing them...but that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?" He frowned, then desperately added, "Adventure’s better than donuts, yeah?" Clapping his hands together suddenly, he glared and beamed at the burned kitchen simultaneously, having somehow forgotten about it for a few moments.
“Now what to do about this mess?”
Jack merely rolled his eyes, being used to the Doctor’s eccentricities, and halfheartedly trying to ignore all of his mental images about what sort of ‘fun’ the Doctor had had with the Master and the donuts. He failed spectacularly, and decided to psychically flirt a bit with the TARDIS later. It would do him some good to get it out of his system…at least for a few minutes.
As Jack sank into a singed chair, distractedly slapping out a stray flame, he sarcastically muttered, "Next time we go to the Hub, I’m dragging Iantohe can get the coffee made without us all going down in a fiery death."
Jack knew it would probably never come to pass. The man was too sane to become a companion, despite the fact that he worked for Torchwood, and had experience with extreme weirdness.
He looked up, casually adding, "No offense, Sweetheart, but your pilot is the worst cook in history. You’re lucky you don’t eat."
There was a hum of agreement, and the Doctor snorted, muttering something about everyone ganging up on him, before moving on to the next subject. He then leaned against the wall for a moment, and whispered, "You don’t need to re-grow the kitchen, do you? There’s not that much damage, is there? You weren’t hurt?" There was a strangely comforting hum, which he took to mean ‘no.’ "Good." He gently patted and stroked the wall, and spun back to face Jack.
“Now, then! You wondered about the why and wherefore of the charred ruins? Well, I wanted to fortify the three of us for the adventure ahead. The millennial cleaning of the old girl’s attic!” As a pleased murmur resonated from the TARDIS, the Doctor patted the nearest wall, adding sweetly, “Well, you don’t want to be quite as top heavy anymore, do you?”
The inevitable spark of electricity provoked a yelp from him, and Jack hid his grin behind his hands. The Doctor crossed his arms and pouted like a child, eliciting a muffled giggle from Jack.
--
Approximately ten minutes later (for Rose had given them extra time, just in case things were epic levels of bad) Rose peeked into the kitchen, amazed at the aftermath of the fire. As she stared, the Doctor turned and waved her over with a smile.
Jack grinned to himself, silently vowing to keep the special donut room a secret--for now. It might be useful information someday, he thought to himself.
“Care for a charred but still rather useful seat? It’s only a little sooty--well, a lot. Well, entirely sooty and about to collapse...here, take mine!” He hopped up, still hyper as always. A little inferno in the kitchen couldn’t stop that. “The green eggs and ham are beyond hope, I’m afraid,” he added ruefully.
He poked at the scraps that had been scraped from the pan—and the pan itself, which was beyond hope. The look progressed from vaguely irritated through to kicked puppy status as he realized that now they couldn’t have breakfast.
Rose shook her head, before turning to Jack. “I’m never buying him another children’s book. It’s gonna be green eggs and ham, or something scarier next time.”
Jack grinned. “I’ll remember to buy him Rapunzel, and the rest of Grimm’s Grimmest tales. He can steal some radishes from a Carrionites’ garden and get us all cursed.”
The Doctor quickly left the kicked puppy realm with the surreal image of Jack Harkness locked in a tower, with long hair and letting aliens and men and women (oh, my) climb up his hair at every hour of the day and night. He stared at Jack, whispered the idea in his ear, and the two began laughing.
Rose grinned, having caught the whisper--it was when she was compared to Goldilocks that she threw the nearest singed rag at them.
--
And thus it went that the two companions unanimously voted that the Doctor was never to touch anything in the kitchen ever again as long as they were on board. They would get Martha and Donna to agree to this resolution once they returned from a weekend of their regular lives. Every so often, the TARDIS would move the fire extinguisher a bit closer to Rose, lest she forget. The Doctor pouted whenever this happened, continuously prompting the TARDIS to do the telepathic equivalent of sticking its tongue out at him. This was quite a feat for the old girl, what with her being a disembodied consciousness and all.
Rose leaned on the table, putting her chin in her hands as she gave the Doctor a playful look. “If we ever meet a Doctor that can cook, we’ll know we’ve all gone through the looking glass. You might even have a beard, just to round out the cliché.”
The Doctor scrunched his nose in disgust. Haughtily, he said, “Oh, please. The Master’s beards were enough to stop me from latching onto that idea--permanently.” He shuddered, thinking about one particular frighteningly bad mustache that the Master had tried, before adding, “Although, my eighth self would have looked rather dashing with one...”
The Doctor’s rumbling stomach broke into their discussion, prompting the Time Lord to glare pitifully in its direction, and whine, “I burned down the kitchen, so stop growling!”
Rose grinned a moment later, and casually pointed to the top of the stove--the one thing unharmed. “Fine. I’ll cook us something. I’m sure we’ve the ingredients for stew or somethin’.” The purring from the TARDIS confirmed she was correct, and a few mental nudges showed her where to find some carrots, potatoes, broccoli and noodles.
At the looks they gave her, she straightened from her hunt for ingredients, put her hands on her hips, and shrugged. “What? Mum couldn’t cook, so I learned rather than exist on Chinese food all day and night. There’s only so often you can have egg drop soup before it turns your stomach. And other than adding salt to cake batter rather than sugar when I was ten, I’ve done rather well, if I do say so myself.”
The Doctor smiled weakly, before saying, “I would never insult your Mum’s cooking for a second time. Or is it the third time?” He rubbed his cheek distractedly; when Jack looked lost, Rose leaned over and whispered, “Mum slaps him a lot. They’ve gotten better at it, but it’s still how she greets him.”
Jack chuckled. “I wonder if she would like to see my pterodactyl.” At the looks they gave him, he snickered. “Not like that. The dinosaur that Torchwood keeps in the Hub--after seeing the Sycorax and the Slitheen, do you think a dinosaur would bother her?” Before anyone could respond, he added, “I do love saying that pterodactyl line, though--it’s a great pick-up line.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t say things like that around normal people. You'll get people lining up to either see the pterodactyl or to sleep with you...archaeologists will be knocking on your door. I don’t know which they’ll want to do, what with you around." He scrunched his nose, remembering the Dalek versus Cybermen debacle.
Jack shrugged, and then thought for a moment. “Well, the police force knows all about Torchwood. And the pizza delivery service knows. And so do the Chinese take-out places, and paramedics, plus a few others. So...we’re not the best kept secret out there, but we’re still doing well.”
“Some secret. I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”
“Been introduced to The Princess Bride, have we?”
The Doctor nodded happily, blissfully ready for a quoting war. By this point, however, Rose had begun preparing everything for the stew, and stopped him with a look. From where she stood, she told Jack, “If you ever meet her, you’re not allowed to flirt with my Mum.”
Jack glanced in the Doctor’s direction. “Did you ever--?” Before he could finish the question, the Doctor cut in, “Are you kidding? I happen to like this regeneration, floppy hair and all, thank you very much.”
Jack gave an amused wolf whistle. “Very cute, by the way. Did I ever tell you that?”
“I’ll say,” Rose added, trying for a sultry tone.
“Oi! Do you mind waiting on the flirtation until after we’ve put out all the tiny fires…” the Doctor slapped at one last flame that had been overlooked, before continuing, “...finished eating, and completed the millennial cleaning?”
Jack winked at Rose, playfully adding, “I’m not sure I have that much willpower...”
Rose frowned as she finished adding everything to the pot. “Millennial? You’re only a little over 900 if you aren’t lying about your age...so does that mean...?”
The Doctor grinned manically, kissed her hand playfully, and spoke. “Yep! Never cleaned a day in my long, long life! This is the dustiest ship in the galaxy--universe, even!” Pausing, he added, “Although, I have seen some of your cleaning shows, so I could be mistaken.”
Jack shuddered. “Imagine the cobwebs and clutter. Think a Rachnoss might be hiding up there? Nobody would notice until the time was right!” He ducked, chuckling, as the Doctor threw a spoon at his head. Rose replaced it with a clean one, wearily saying, “Boys! Be good! You have an arachnophobe in your midst, too.”
Rose muttered to herself tiredly--something that sounded a bit like, “I risked life and limb getting here from a parallel word, for this? To be their mother and personal cleaning service?”
The Doctor had a feeling Martha would be laughing herself sick if she had heard. As it was, he ducked his head behind his hands to keep her from seeing his eyes dancing with laughter. If she saw him, he had the feeling that he would likely regenerate before they were able to get to the cleaning--or even finish a meal.
She did have a very sharp knife in her hands...hopefully it wouldn’t be used on him. An annoyed Rose Tyler could be scarier than The Master and The Rani combined, when the mood was right.
While she was distracted, he whispered to Jack, “Trust me on this. Don’t get her annoyed--she has the best right hook I’ve seen in this quadrant!” Jack didn’t seem bothered in the slightest--after all, he could come back from the dead without changing his face.
--
Rose proved to be an excellent cook when it came to stew. However, the Doctor also proved to have all the good manners of a bloodhound, as he slurped it up as fast as he could before asking for more.
Once they had stopped staring--with the Doctor giving his best innocent look--Rose decided it was time to relieve some boredom before they went to do the cleaning.
“Who’s up for a little game of something I’m going to call...What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? Anyone?”
Jack’s expression turned sinister as he looked at the Doctor. Obviously, he was going to enjoy hearing whatever the Doctor’s was. “I say yes, Rose! And that means you’re outnumbered, whatever you say, Doc. No going around anything interesting, or distracting us with a ‘genetic transfer.’”
Rose ignored that last remark, and stared at the Doctor. “Doctor, you go first. What’s your most humiliating moment in all your lives?”
Rose’s eyes were sparkling, and she had a wicked grin. This might be the only way he would willingly talk about his past, without it being pertinent information given only to save their lives.
The Doctor stared into the bowl of his soup to gather his thoughts. “Humiliating? Other than this, you mean?” He gestured with his spoon at the singed room. At nods from the other two, he put down his spoon and leaned forward.
“I would have to say...when my seventh self got a good look at the coat my sixth self wore. You’ve been in the wardrobe room--I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
Jack nodded, adding his own description. “Joseph's Technicolor Coat From Hell.”
“Right. I vote for that...or when my ninth self decided to take you to a city with a roller coaster.”
Rose put a hand over her face as she laughed. She remembered it vividly. “That’s also my most humiliating moment, just so you know. I fell over and was very sick all over him right after. Mum was furious with him.”
The Doctor grinned. “That’s right...I couldn’t handle the Tower of Terror, quickly followed by a roller coaster and the teacups. To tell the truth, I think it was the last that did me in.”
Jack leaned back in his chair and laughed. The idea of the Doctor he first knew being forced into all that was an outrageous image. “I was sure you’d say your Tinkerbell moment on the Valiant--but that one sounds worse.” Jack had filled Rose in on the whole thing when she had first come back on board the TARDIS. The mockery had lasted a month, with Rose regularly chanting ‘I do believe in Doctors! I do!’ as she followed him around, just to get a rise out of him.
“Laugh it up, Captain. Your story is up next. Oh, and for your information, my Tinkerbell thing was the Master’s most humiliating moment.” The Doctor hid his smirk behind the cup he was currently drinking from.
Jack raised an eyebrow at that, and thought for a moment. “I’m not easily embarrassed, you know.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes with a hint of playfulness, and shared a look with Rose. “We know, Jack.”
After a moment, Jack looked up. “Got one--Post-resurrection. Remember the time I mentioned death by javelin, Doc?”
The Time Lord cringed, but nodded.
“This is the story. Well, to begin with, I happened to pick up this gorgeous married woman in a bar in Cardiff in the 1970’s.” Just to be cute, Jack put his hand to his forehead, and sighed dramatically. “Who could possibly resist me, with all my charms?”
The Doctor snorted and both he and Rose rolled their eyes; the Doctor gestured for him to continue. Rose resisted the urge to taunt his story until he reached the end.
“Fine, fine--spoilsports. Well, we went home and...” The Doctor glared for a moment, causing Jack to pause. “Right, Doc. No details of my Olympic sexcapades while on the TARDIS.” He leaned over, and whispered to Rose, “I’ll give you all the juicy details later, sweetie.”
Rose frowned before cutting in. “Before we get too far…just how big is your little black book, Jack? I’ve always wondered.”
Jack actually seemed to be calculating the total, before checking a special feature on his vortex manipulator. “I’m Immortal and my timeline’s warped as all get out, but I think it logs in at a slim 399 pages. I keep it logged in my handy dandy vortex manipulator.” At a signal from the Doctor, Jack got back to his story. “Well, the little lady’s husband came home, and he seemed angry and came at me. So I run out into the street stark naked--except for the manipulator, anyway. Never leave home without it.”
“And that’s your moment?” This came from Rose, but was obviously on the Doctor’s mind as well.
Jack shook his head and grinned. The Doctor’s eyes widened as he said, “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Turns out he was practicing for the Olympics, and threw a javelin at me. Direct hit through the chest, and I’m dead instantly! The poor guy had a change of his murderous heart, and panicked...he buried me in the flower garden, right under the petunias. I revived and clawed my way out of the freshly dug grave--it wasn’t that deep, actually. If any dogs had come by to bury a bone, they would’ve found me...”
Jack paused to think, before shaking his head. “Right, this is about me and not the Dalmatian--silly me! Her husband was standing there, still holding his shovel, and he fainted dead away at my bare feet. He must’ve thought I was something straight out of a Stephen King novel!” Jack chuckled at the memory, before suddenly remembering his stew and taking another bite.
The Doctor was stunned. “...and that’s your moment?”
Jack smirked, and shook his head. “Just wait, it gets better. I asked the lady I was with if she knew where my clothes were--she screamed something about the zombies coming and judgment day…I put my hands on my hips and told her I die all the time. She fled…that was the last I saw of her, but last I heard she had divorced the guy, become a nun, and joined a convent.”
Jack shook his head. “What a pity. She was great in bed. And did I mention that when she ran away from me, all she left behind was an old mini-skirt, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers, since my clothes had gone into the incinerator? No?”
At their looks, he added, “I liked that shirt, too. It was my Get Lucky shirt--still, I had something like three hundred others at home, so what’s one shirt?”
The Doctor decided to see if he had everything straight. “So...your moment was dying, reviving while buried alive, and being stuck wearing only a mini-skirt and bunny slippers? Yes?”
“Yep…I walked right by some cute construction workers on the way home, too. There were wolf whistles from all directions, so I just batted my gorgeous eyes, shook my bum…and got almost all of their phone numbers.” A wicked grin slid across his features, causing his eyes to sparkle with mischief. At their looks, he continued with a playful, “Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it!” Standing and shaking his hips just to further torment them, he stated, “An embarrassing and productive day for me!”
The response was better than he expected, as Rose literally fell off her chair laughing. The Doctor’s muffled laughter was a wonderful sound, too, as he helped Rose back to her seat.
The Doctor managed to choke out a “You’re incorrigible, Jack” before bending over for another round of laughter. Just what he needed--and he would never get that image of Jack out of his mind; not even if he regenerated.
Finally catching her breath, Rose said, “You call that an embarrassing moment? That’s...awful and hysterical and totally you, Jack. I think you win!”
Jack looked at the two of them for a moment before grinning again. “Hey, my definition of humiliation is different from other people. I’m the handsome guy that stood naked in front of millions of viewers on the game station, remember? Their figures sky rocketed, don’t you think?” And with that, he actually preened in a ridiculous manner.
The other two looked like they were trying to picture this sight as well, despite not having been in the room for it. Jack waggled his eyebrows and winked, and the three laughed again, dissolving any amount of tension there could have been after his tale of being buried alive after a javelin through the chest. Judging by the laughter, no tension was in sight, to Jack’s relief.
Wiping tears from his eyes after everything, the Doctor suddenly remembered something. “You once ended up my room, naked. I thought you were sleepwalking, but I’ve been wrong before when it comes to you. I would’ve thought sleepwalking was your moment, until I heard this tale.”
Rose spoke up. “He was in my room the next night.” The two looked at each other, and then looked at Jack.
He grinned seductively and looked at his nails for a moment, before returning their look. “Who says I was asleep?”
They nodded, realizing they had been duped, and not upset in the slightest. And with that, it was back to their meals.
--
With the game completed, and meals finished, it was with full stomachs that the trio headed for the attic, to begin the likely long bout of cleaning. The dishes could wait until after it was done--and if the dish washing was like previous experiences, Jack would start a water fight, the TARDIS would move things around in the kitchen so nobody could hide from him, and Jack would drench them all.
The Doctor would then moan about how it was his ship, and not Jack’s, while Jack stroked the walls and buttered up the old girl. When they were around, Donna and Martha would literally shake sense into anyone that threatened a brooding session. Rose loved watching all of them, since it really meant they were a family.
But before all that could happen, they had to do the millennial cleaning. They approached the attic armed with brooms, dustbins, and rags and buckets. The Doctor stared at the door to the attic, and then glanced at his companions. “You two should back away--the last time I closed this door, there was an invasion of dust bunnies from Dimension X!”
“Is that a real thing, Doc? Pull the other one--please!”
The Doctor put his smart glasses on, and peered at him. “You bet it is! Why, they wanted to expand their territory from just beneath beds and things to the entire planet! I stopped them with the most powerful vacuum cleaner known to man!”
Jack and Rose shared a smile. He had to be joking.
The Doctor scrunched his nose, grabbed the knob, and said, “Get ready—a dusting we will go!”
When he pulled the door open, it was worse than expected. An avalanche of junk and things from previous adventures--a Carrionite orb and Anne-droid could be spotted at the front--fell to their feet, narrowly missing their heads; also narrowly avoiding them being buried alive.
“Ooh, look! My old lapel celery! I missed this thing…and Mel’s carrot juice!” Sniffing it, he made a face. “I think it’s likely sentient. Been here a few regenerations...”
They would be in the attic for some time to come--one week to be exact--reliving those old memories, pausing only for food and other necessities, such as sleep. It was a wonderful journey for them all.
The End
Cross-posted to![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dwfiction (posted here) and galactic_conman (posted here). Does anyone think I should post this to rose_lives and time_and_chips?
Author:
calliopes_penRating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 5016
Summary: The Doctor decides to do a bit of spring cleaning in the TARDIS’ attic--first, though, there’s an attempt to make breakfast which, naturally, goes horribly wrong.
Beta Readers: Thanks go out to
seandc and nightrider101 for beta reading.Notes: This was written for the OT3 ficathon hosted by
wendymyr and dark_aegis. I was assigned dominique012. The three things requested were “a kiss, a happy ending, and fire.” Think of this as being set at some point after Rose, the Doctor, and Jack have been reunited, but in between visits from Martha and Donna. There is a very, very brief cameo appearance of the alien donuts from donutsweeper’s fanfics in this story, as well.A roaring fire can be a wondrous thing. A Time Lord can toast marshmallows with his closest friends; you can keep yourself warm when stuck in a primitive time period; keep the wild animals away when camping out. It could even keep you company on a cold winter’s night.
Fire, the Doctor thought to himself with wide eyes, shouldn’t threaten to burn down the TARDIS’ kitchen. "All I wanted was fried green eggs and ham,” he petulantly wailed to himself. It had been his greatest foe--cooking. With all the finesse of someone horribly blind to the simplest of recipes, the Doctor had set it for 100 degrees hotter than one should place it--especially when making fried eggs, ham, pancakes, or even bacon.
The Master might be able to take over the world with an Archangel Network, but a few incorrect calculations with an oven could cause the Doctor to cause something on par with The Towering Inferno.
Even the Master had been in awe of his ineptness in the kitchen at one point, taking great pains to keep him far away from the Valiant’s, lest he find a way to destroy it. Perhaps that was another reason why he chose death rather than being kept--he remembered the trials and tribulations of his cooking. However, those thoughts weren’t helping him to stop things from rapidly spinning out of control in the here and now.
Shaking his head and grimacing, he watched as flames casually licked the ceiling before getting on top of things and finally springing into action--slapping futilely at it with a spare towel he found on the counter. When that, too, caught on fire he yelped and threw it to the table.
"Rose! Jack! If you’re nearby, do you think you could get the fire extinguisher? Oh, why didn’t I listen and install those blasted sprinklers when Donna told me what a bad cook I was?!"
It was an odd question, but even if they weren’t nearby the TARDIS would definitely relay the message to them wherever they were, no matter how near or far from him it was.
--
At that very instant, Jack was doing his daily constitutional exercises (also known as jogging) through the TARDIS via a prearranged path, in an attempt to keep his gorgeous figure throughout his eternal existence.
Panting a bit, Jack stopped his reverie for a moment and wiped his face with the towel he kept around his neck. Pausing, he sniffed the air and tensed. Smoke?
"Either the Doctor made the old girl really mad, and she zapped him until he was a crispy critter, or there’s trouble. And why am I talking to myself?" He sighed in frustration, before adding, "Jack Harkness, you’ve officially become old. Next stop a grey hair or three." Looking up, he put on his most charming tone, and spoke to the lady herself.
"Want to show me the way to the problem, sweetheart? Please?" As he spoke, he stroked a hand across the wall, knowing it was the best way to get something from her.
There was an answering tinkling sound that he smugly interpreted as a fond giggle, and he grinned. He still had it, even after being away for a while. After that method of persuasion, it was only a few mental nudges that showed him the way; just a quick turn to the left, and a few rearranged hallways brought him to the kitchen. The smoke from around the door might mean the Doctor burned something...but then again, since when have we had luck on our side?
Poking his head inside, Jack’s eyes widened as he saw that he was partially correct. The entirety of the room was practically on fire, and the poor Doctor seemed to have progressed to pouring small glasses of orange juice and milk over it…needless to say, it wasn’t helping things. The captain immediately ran for another room, and barged in without knocking. There was a momentary pang of disappointment that he hadn’t walked in on Rose changing clothes, but he quickly stifled it.
“You’re dressed? That’s…fantastic! Great! Toss me the fire extinguisher!”
She frowned for a moment. "It’s not in here, Jack!" Not knowing what was happening, (and giving him a brief, yet playful glare at the clothing comment) Rose Tyler merely raised an eyebrow before checking again. Nope, nothing. Jack grinned the way only he could--a mixture of flirting and politeness--saluted, and popped out as fast as he had arrived, still hunting for an extinguisher.
She would give him five minutes to get whatever it was settled, and then she would get the TARDIS to take her to the Doctor and the Captain. There was no telling what trouble they were getting into…
--
After quite a few wrong turns into interesting rooms, Captain Jack Harkness managed to (eventually) save the day for the Doctor. He burst through the doors and sprayed everything as thoroughly as possible, slightly pleased by the horrified shout as the Doctor got a good spray of the stuff on the back of his coat. He can dry clean it later…unless he sleeps in the thing.
Amidst the chaos, Jack actually found time for some brevity, with a smug shout to the other man of, "You know what? You really can’t cook!"
At any other time, the comeback of "Gee, do you think?!" from the Doctor would have had him laughing. Mostly because it sounded so much like the first Doctor he had known. However, the man was a little busy spraying flame retardant on flames that kept popping up.
It took a few more moments, but gradually things came back under control, with only one or two more spots needing the Jack Harkness Treatment.
The fire finally extinguished, Jack turned to the Doctor, shaking his head with a mixture of aggravation and what seemed to be fondness. He wiped some sweat from his forehead, before finally speaking.
"You couldn’t have put this thing closer? It wasn’t in Rose’s room, like I first thought--I found this extinguisher three hallways to the left, ten doors down--and it was in a room filled with boxes and boxes of Swiss cheese and powdered donuts. Strange mix, unless you’re going for a donut fondue."
He raised one charming eyebrow and smiled the seductive smile that, while it always managed to tear the truth out of people, it had also caused him to be prohibited from traveling to certain planets in the Atari system, under penalty of being locked up until he happened to somehow stay dead. "Something you want to tell me about that, Doc?" He suspected he knew the answer, but just wanted to watch the Doctor squirm.
The Doctor pointedly glanced away, finding the charred pattern on the floor-- Was that mark weeping angel shaped? Couldn’t be-- far more interesting. He didn’t want to admit his sordid tale of a cheese addiction to just anyone. Taking a long look at Jack, he silently corrected himself--well, anyone at all. Best to distract him with a tall tale of donuts.
In a desperate attempt to get things back on track, he clapped his hands and proceeded to weave an unusual excuse. "Never mind the cheese--that’s just a souvenir of a toppled government that thought it fun to build things from Swiss and rye. The donuts are really from another galaxy and will warp your mind if eaten! You didn’t touch them, right?”
At the confused shake of Jack’s head, the Doctor continued with a mischievous grin. "That’s good--very good! The Master ate one, once...led to some strange and rather fun mishaps and I don’t usually like sharing them...but that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?" He frowned, then desperately added, "Adventure’s better than donuts, yeah?" Clapping his hands together suddenly, he glared and beamed at the burned kitchen simultaneously, having somehow forgotten about it for a few moments.
“Now what to do about this mess?”
Jack merely rolled his eyes, being used to the Doctor’s eccentricities, and halfheartedly trying to ignore all of his mental images about what sort of ‘fun’ the Doctor had had with the Master and the donuts. He failed spectacularly, and decided to psychically flirt a bit with the TARDIS later. It would do him some good to get it out of his system…at least for a few minutes.
As Jack sank into a singed chair, distractedly slapping out a stray flame, he sarcastically muttered, "Next time we go to the Hub, I’m dragging Iantohe can get the coffee made without us all going down in a fiery death."
Jack knew it would probably never come to pass. The man was too sane to become a companion, despite the fact that he worked for Torchwood, and had experience with extreme weirdness.
He looked up, casually adding, "No offense, Sweetheart, but your pilot is the worst cook in history. You’re lucky you don’t eat."
There was a hum of agreement, and the Doctor snorted, muttering something about everyone ganging up on him, before moving on to the next subject. He then leaned against the wall for a moment, and whispered, "You don’t need to re-grow the kitchen, do you? There’s not that much damage, is there? You weren’t hurt?" There was a strangely comforting hum, which he took to mean ‘no.’ "Good." He gently patted and stroked the wall, and spun back to face Jack.
“Now, then! You wondered about the why and wherefore of the charred ruins? Well, I wanted to fortify the three of us for the adventure ahead. The millennial cleaning of the old girl’s attic!” As a pleased murmur resonated from the TARDIS, the Doctor patted the nearest wall, adding sweetly, “Well, you don’t want to be quite as top heavy anymore, do you?”
The inevitable spark of electricity provoked a yelp from him, and Jack hid his grin behind his hands. The Doctor crossed his arms and pouted like a child, eliciting a muffled giggle from Jack.
--
Approximately ten minutes later (for Rose had given them extra time, just in case things were epic levels of bad) Rose peeked into the kitchen, amazed at the aftermath of the fire. As she stared, the Doctor turned and waved her over with a smile.
Jack grinned to himself, silently vowing to keep the special donut room a secret--for now. It might be useful information someday, he thought to himself.
“Care for a charred but still rather useful seat? It’s only a little sooty--well, a lot. Well, entirely sooty and about to collapse...here, take mine!” He hopped up, still hyper as always. A little inferno in the kitchen couldn’t stop that. “The green eggs and ham are beyond hope, I’m afraid,” he added ruefully.
He poked at the scraps that had been scraped from the pan—and the pan itself, which was beyond hope. The look progressed from vaguely irritated through to kicked puppy status as he realized that now they couldn’t have breakfast.
Rose shook her head, before turning to Jack. “I’m never buying him another children’s book. It’s gonna be green eggs and ham, or something scarier next time.”
Jack grinned. “I’ll remember to buy him Rapunzel, and the rest of Grimm’s Grimmest tales. He can steal some radishes from a Carrionites’ garden and get us all cursed.”
The Doctor quickly left the kicked puppy realm with the surreal image of Jack Harkness locked in a tower, with long hair and letting aliens and men and women (oh, my) climb up his hair at every hour of the day and night. He stared at Jack, whispered the idea in his ear, and the two began laughing.
Rose grinned, having caught the whisper--it was when she was compared to Goldilocks that she threw the nearest singed rag at them.
--
And thus it went that the two companions unanimously voted that the Doctor was never to touch anything in the kitchen ever again as long as they were on board. They would get Martha and Donna to agree to this resolution once they returned from a weekend of their regular lives. Every so often, the TARDIS would move the fire extinguisher a bit closer to Rose, lest she forget. The Doctor pouted whenever this happened, continuously prompting the TARDIS to do the telepathic equivalent of sticking its tongue out at him. This was quite a feat for the old girl, what with her being a disembodied consciousness and all.
Rose leaned on the table, putting her chin in her hands as she gave the Doctor a playful look. “If we ever meet a Doctor that can cook, we’ll know we’ve all gone through the looking glass. You might even have a beard, just to round out the cliché.”
The Doctor scrunched his nose in disgust. Haughtily, he said, “Oh, please. The Master’s beards were enough to stop me from latching onto that idea--permanently.” He shuddered, thinking about one particular frighteningly bad mustache that the Master had tried, before adding, “Although, my eighth self would have looked rather dashing with one...”
The Doctor’s rumbling stomach broke into their discussion, prompting the Time Lord to glare pitifully in its direction, and whine, “I burned down the kitchen, so stop growling!”
Rose grinned a moment later, and casually pointed to the top of the stove--the one thing unharmed. “Fine. I’ll cook us something. I’m sure we’ve the ingredients for stew or somethin’.” The purring from the TARDIS confirmed she was correct, and a few mental nudges showed her where to find some carrots, potatoes, broccoli and noodles.
At the looks they gave her, she straightened from her hunt for ingredients, put her hands on her hips, and shrugged. “What? Mum couldn’t cook, so I learned rather than exist on Chinese food all day and night. There’s only so often you can have egg drop soup before it turns your stomach. And other than adding salt to cake batter rather than sugar when I was ten, I’ve done rather well, if I do say so myself.”
The Doctor smiled weakly, before saying, “I would never insult your Mum’s cooking for a second time. Or is it the third time?” He rubbed his cheek distractedly; when Jack looked lost, Rose leaned over and whispered, “Mum slaps him a lot. They’ve gotten better at it, but it’s still how she greets him.”
Jack chuckled. “I wonder if she would like to see my pterodactyl.” At the looks they gave him, he snickered. “Not like that. The dinosaur that Torchwood keeps in the Hub--after seeing the Sycorax and the Slitheen, do you think a dinosaur would bother her?” Before anyone could respond, he added, “I do love saying that pterodactyl line, though--it’s a great pick-up line.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t say things like that around normal people. You'll get people lining up to either see the pterodactyl or to sleep with you...archaeologists will be knocking on your door. I don’t know which they’ll want to do, what with you around." He scrunched his nose, remembering the Dalek versus Cybermen debacle.
Jack shrugged, and then thought for a moment. “Well, the police force knows all about Torchwood. And the pizza delivery service knows. And so do the Chinese take-out places, and paramedics, plus a few others. So...we’re not the best kept secret out there, but we’re still doing well.”
“Some secret. I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”
“Been introduced to The Princess Bride, have we?”
The Doctor nodded happily, blissfully ready for a quoting war. By this point, however, Rose had begun preparing everything for the stew, and stopped him with a look. From where she stood, she told Jack, “If you ever meet her, you’re not allowed to flirt with my Mum.”
Jack glanced in the Doctor’s direction. “Did you ever--?” Before he could finish the question, the Doctor cut in, “Are you kidding? I happen to like this regeneration, floppy hair and all, thank you very much.”
Jack gave an amused wolf whistle. “Very cute, by the way. Did I ever tell you that?”
“I’ll say,” Rose added, trying for a sultry tone.
“Oi! Do you mind waiting on the flirtation until after we’ve put out all the tiny fires…” the Doctor slapped at one last flame that had been overlooked, before continuing, “...finished eating, and completed the millennial cleaning?”
Jack winked at Rose, playfully adding, “I’m not sure I have that much willpower...”
Rose frowned as she finished adding everything to the pot. “Millennial? You’re only a little over 900 if you aren’t lying about your age...so does that mean...?”
The Doctor grinned manically, kissed her hand playfully, and spoke. “Yep! Never cleaned a day in my long, long life! This is the dustiest ship in the galaxy--universe, even!” Pausing, he added, “Although, I have seen some of your cleaning shows, so I could be mistaken.”
Jack shuddered. “Imagine the cobwebs and clutter. Think a Rachnoss might be hiding up there? Nobody would notice until the time was right!” He ducked, chuckling, as the Doctor threw a spoon at his head. Rose replaced it with a clean one, wearily saying, “Boys! Be good! You have an arachnophobe in your midst, too.”
Rose muttered to herself tiredly--something that sounded a bit like, “I risked life and limb getting here from a parallel word, for this? To be their mother and personal cleaning service?”
The Doctor had a feeling Martha would be laughing herself sick if she had heard. As it was, he ducked his head behind his hands to keep her from seeing his eyes dancing with laughter. If she saw him, he had the feeling that he would likely regenerate before they were able to get to the cleaning--or even finish a meal.
She did have a very sharp knife in her hands...hopefully it wouldn’t be used on him. An annoyed Rose Tyler could be scarier than The Master and The Rani combined, when the mood was right.
While she was distracted, he whispered to Jack, “Trust me on this. Don’t get her annoyed--she has the best right hook I’ve seen in this quadrant!” Jack didn’t seem bothered in the slightest--after all, he could come back from the dead without changing his face.
--
Rose proved to be an excellent cook when it came to stew. However, the Doctor also proved to have all the good manners of a bloodhound, as he slurped it up as fast as he could before asking for more.
Once they had stopped staring--with the Doctor giving his best innocent look--Rose decided it was time to relieve some boredom before they went to do the cleaning.
“Who’s up for a little game of something I’m going to call...What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? Anyone?”
Jack’s expression turned sinister as he looked at the Doctor. Obviously, he was going to enjoy hearing whatever the Doctor’s was. “I say yes, Rose! And that means you’re outnumbered, whatever you say, Doc. No going around anything interesting, or distracting us with a ‘genetic transfer.’”
Rose ignored that last remark, and stared at the Doctor. “Doctor, you go first. What’s your most humiliating moment in all your lives?”
Rose’s eyes were sparkling, and she had a wicked grin. This might be the only way he would willingly talk about his past, without it being pertinent information given only to save their lives.
The Doctor stared into the bowl of his soup to gather his thoughts. “Humiliating? Other than this, you mean?” He gestured with his spoon at the singed room. At nods from the other two, he put down his spoon and leaned forward.
“I would have to say...when my seventh self got a good look at the coat my sixth self wore. You’ve been in the wardrobe room--I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
Jack nodded, adding his own description. “Joseph's Technicolor Coat From Hell.”
“Right. I vote for that...or when my ninth self decided to take you to a city with a roller coaster.”
Rose put a hand over her face as she laughed. She remembered it vividly. “That’s also my most humiliating moment, just so you know. I fell over and was very sick all over him right after. Mum was furious with him.”
The Doctor grinned. “That’s right...I couldn’t handle the Tower of Terror, quickly followed by a roller coaster and the teacups. To tell the truth, I think it was the last that did me in.”
Jack leaned back in his chair and laughed. The idea of the Doctor he first knew being forced into all that was an outrageous image. “I was sure you’d say your Tinkerbell moment on the Valiant--but that one sounds worse.” Jack had filled Rose in on the whole thing when she had first come back on board the TARDIS. The mockery had lasted a month, with Rose regularly chanting ‘I do believe in Doctors! I do!’ as she followed him around, just to get a rise out of him.
“Laugh it up, Captain. Your story is up next. Oh, and for your information, my Tinkerbell thing was the Master’s most humiliating moment.” The Doctor hid his smirk behind the cup he was currently drinking from.
Jack raised an eyebrow at that, and thought for a moment. “I’m not easily embarrassed, you know.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes with a hint of playfulness, and shared a look with Rose. “We know, Jack.”
After a moment, Jack looked up. “Got one--Post-resurrection. Remember the time I mentioned death by javelin, Doc?”
The Time Lord cringed, but nodded.
“This is the story. Well, to begin with, I happened to pick up this gorgeous married woman in a bar in Cardiff in the 1970’s.” Just to be cute, Jack put his hand to his forehead, and sighed dramatically. “Who could possibly resist me, with all my charms?”
The Doctor snorted and both he and Rose rolled their eyes; the Doctor gestured for him to continue. Rose resisted the urge to taunt his story until he reached the end.
“Fine, fine--spoilsports. Well, we went home and...” The Doctor glared for a moment, causing Jack to pause. “Right, Doc. No details of my Olympic sexcapades while on the TARDIS.” He leaned over, and whispered to Rose, “I’ll give you all the juicy details later, sweetie.”
Rose frowned before cutting in. “Before we get too far…just how big is your little black book, Jack? I’ve always wondered.”
Jack actually seemed to be calculating the total, before checking a special feature on his vortex manipulator. “I’m Immortal and my timeline’s warped as all get out, but I think it logs in at a slim 399 pages. I keep it logged in my handy dandy vortex manipulator.” At a signal from the Doctor, Jack got back to his story. “Well, the little lady’s husband came home, and he seemed angry and came at me. So I run out into the street stark naked--except for the manipulator, anyway. Never leave home without it.”
“And that’s your moment?” This came from Rose, but was obviously on the Doctor’s mind as well.
Jack shook his head and grinned. The Doctor’s eyes widened as he said, “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Turns out he was practicing for the Olympics, and threw a javelin at me. Direct hit through the chest, and I’m dead instantly! The poor guy had a change of his murderous heart, and panicked...he buried me in the flower garden, right under the petunias. I revived and clawed my way out of the freshly dug grave--it wasn’t that deep, actually. If any dogs had come by to bury a bone, they would’ve found me...”
Jack paused to think, before shaking his head. “Right, this is about me and not the Dalmatian--silly me! Her husband was standing there, still holding his shovel, and he fainted dead away at my bare feet. He must’ve thought I was something straight out of a Stephen King novel!” Jack chuckled at the memory, before suddenly remembering his stew and taking another bite.
The Doctor was stunned. “...and that’s your moment?”
Jack smirked, and shook his head. “Just wait, it gets better. I asked the lady I was with if she knew where my clothes were--she screamed something about the zombies coming and judgment day…I put my hands on my hips and told her I die all the time. She fled…that was the last I saw of her, but last I heard she had divorced the guy, become a nun, and joined a convent.”
Jack shook his head. “What a pity. She was great in bed. And did I mention that when she ran away from me, all she left behind was an old mini-skirt, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers, since my clothes had gone into the incinerator? No?”
At their looks, he added, “I liked that shirt, too. It was my Get Lucky shirt--still, I had something like three hundred others at home, so what’s one shirt?”
The Doctor decided to see if he had everything straight. “So...your moment was dying, reviving while buried alive, and being stuck wearing only a mini-skirt and bunny slippers? Yes?”
“Yep…I walked right by some cute construction workers on the way home, too. There were wolf whistles from all directions, so I just batted my gorgeous eyes, shook my bum…and got almost all of their phone numbers.” A wicked grin slid across his features, causing his eyes to sparkle with mischief. At their looks, he continued with a playful, “Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it!” Standing and shaking his hips just to further torment them, he stated, “An embarrassing and productive day for me!”
The response was better than he expected, as Rose literally fell off her chair laughing. The Doctor’s muffled laughter was a wonderful sound, too, as he helped Rose back to her seat.
The Doctor managed to choke out a “You’re incorrigible, Jack” before bending over for another round of laughter. Just what he needed--and he would never get that image of Jack out of his mind; not even if he regenerated.
Finally catching her breath, Rose said, “You call that an embarrassing moment? That’s...awful and hysterical and totally you, Jack. I think you win!”
Jack looked at the two of them for a moment before grinning again. “Hey, my definition of humiliation is different from other people. I’m the handsome guy that stood naked in front of millions of viewers on the game station, remember? Their figures sky rocketed, don’t you think?” And with that, he actually preened in a ridiculous manner.
The other two looked like they were trying to picture this sight as well, despite not having been in the room for it. Jack waggled his eyebrows and winked, and the three laughed again, dissolving any amount of tension there could have been after his tale of being buried alive after a javelin through the chest. Judging by the laughter, no tension was in sight, to Jack’s relief.
Wiping tears from his eyes after everything, the Doctor suddenly remembered something. “You once ended up my room, naked. I thought you were sleepwalking, but I’ve been wrong before when it comes to you. I would’ve thought sleepwalking was your moment, until I heard this tale.”
Rose spoke up. “He was in my room the next night.” The two looked at each other, and then looked at Jack.
He grinned seductively and looked at his nails for a moment, before returning their look. “Who says I was asleep?”
They nodded, realizing they had been duped, and not upset in the slightest. And with that, it was back to their meals.
--
With the game completed, and meals finished, it was with full stomachs that the trio headed for the attic, to begin the likely long bout of cleaning. The dishes could wait until after it was done--and if the dish washing was like previous experiences, Jack would start a water fight, the TARDIS would move things around in the kitchen so nobody could hide from him, and Jack would drench them all.
The Doctor would then moan about how it was his ship, and not Jack’s, while Jack stroked the walls and buttered up the old girl. When they were around, Donna and Martha would literally shake sense into anyone that threatened a brooding session. Rose loved watching all of them, since it really meant they were a family.
But before all that could happen, they had to do the millennial cleaning. They approached the attic armed with brooms, dustbins, and rags and buckets. The Doctor stared at the door to the attic, and then glanced at his companions. “You two should back away--the last time I closed this door, there was an invasion of dust bunnies from Dimension X!”
“Is that a real thing, Doc? Pull the other one--please!”
The Doctor put his smart glasses on, and peered at him. “You bet it is! Why, they wanted to expand their territory from just beneath beds and things to the entire planet! I stopped them with the most powerful vacuum cleaner known to man!”
Jack and Rose shared a smile. He had to be joking.
The Doctor scrunched his nose, grabbed the knob, and said, “Get ready—a dusting we will go!”
When he pulled the door open, it was worse than expected. An avalanche of junk and things from previous adventures--a Carrionite orb and Anne-droid could be spotted at the front--fell to their feet, narrowly missing their heads; also narrowly avoiding them being buried alive.
“Ooh, look! My old lapel celery! I missed this thing…and Mel’s carrot juice!” Sniffing it, he made a face. “I think it’s likely sentient. Been here a few regenerations...”
They would be in the attic for some time to come--one week to be exact--reliving those old memories, pausing only for food and other necessities, such as sleep. It was a wonderful journey for them all.
Cross-posted to
dwfiction (posted here) and galactic_conman (posted here). Does anyone think I should post this to rose_lives and time_and_chips?
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Almost skipped reading this as I had gotten rather tired of Rose by the end of the second season (although I loved her in the first), but I'm glad I didn't skip it. You almost made me start liking Rose again.
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secondly- bwhahaha, great fic! I love that the Doctor can't cook and that Jack is always flirting with the TARDIS!
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“I was sure you’d say your Tinkerbell moment on the Valiant--but that one sounds worse.” Jack had filled Rose in on the whole thing when she had first come back on board the TARDIS. The mockery had lasted a month, with Rose regularly chanting ‘I do believe in Doctors! I do!’ as she followed him around, just to get a rise out of him.
ROFLMAO!
Thanks for taking part in the ficathon! :)
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The mockery had lasted a month, with Rose regularly chanting ‘I do believe in Doctors! I do!’ as she followed him around, just to get a rise out of him.
YES! ROFL!
Thank you so much for taking part in the ficathon :)
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I wonder if the alien donuts are still as potent when put in a fondue?
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That Tinkerbell nod had been stuck in my head ever since someone elsewhere referred to the Doctor as that.
By the end of that month, I think the Doctor would have hidden whenever Rose walked by--with the TARDIS rearranging corridors so it was easier for Rose to find him.
Thanks for taking part in the ficathon!
You're welcome.
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Thanks for commenting. While Rose was doing that, I can picture Martha and Donna snickering, and filling her in on any other strange thing that may have happened. I also firmly believe that while the Doctor, Rose, and Jack were cleaning the attic, Martha and Donna grabbed a bit of psychic paper (used as a credit card) and went shopping.
And you're welcome!
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Yeah, they were really inconsistent with her character during season 2, so I understand your feelings.
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http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/32791.html
http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/33052.html
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This idea made me laugh: Perhaps that was another reason why he chose death rather than being kept
And I loved the telling of the story of Jack's embarrassing moment. :D
Lovely, funny fic. Thank you! :)
[I would've commented earlier, but only just finished my entry! This is the first OT3 entry I've read!]
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