Cooking - (11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River)
Title: Cooking
Author: betawho
Rating: G
Characters: 11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River
Words: 500
Author's Note: Okay, this is just a little bit of nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. It has no point. It’s a drive-by ficing [get your mind out of the gutter] But I thought it was cute. So I figured I’d share.
Amy walked into the Tardis kitchen to find the Doctor cutting vegetables.
She stopped and blinked. She looked around and then back at him. He had a tea towel tucked into the waistband of his trousers, and was wielding a large knife with apparent ease. At least he didn't seem to be missing any fingers.
"Uh, Doctor," she said timidly, not wanting to distract him.
"Hmm?" he casually scooped up the pile of cut vegetables on the edge of the knife and dropped them into a pot bubbling on the stove.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked, her mind refusing to believe what her eyes were reporting.
He looked up and stared at her as if she was strange. "I'm cooking." He pulled over a bunch of celery and started chopping it with casual massacrely glee.
"You cook?" she said in disbelief.
He carried the massacred celery bits over and stirred them into the pot. "Of course I cook. Been a bachelor for centuries. What did you think?"
She walked over and cautiously peeked at the contents of the pot, wondering if she was going to find any weird purple vegetables. "I always just assumed you got takeout. That's what we usually do."
He rolled his eyes and stirred the pot. "What are you cooking?" she asked, watching him sprinkle some spice into it.
"Yankee Pot Roast."
Her eyebrows flew up and she looked back down into the brown bubbling contents of the cauldron. Strange things bobbed in it, there was no indication of a roast.
"Okay," he admitted with a glare, whipping the spoon out, flecks of gravy flying off the end. "So it always ends up more like stew. But it's good stew!" He pointed the wooden spoon at her.
She raised her hands in surrender. "I believe you."
He nodded, decisively. And went back to stirring his stew.
Rory wandered into the kitchen, yawning, hair still sticking out every which direction. "What's going on?"
"The Doctor's cooking," Amy said.
Rory froze in the doorway, his eyes darted side to side, as if he expected something to explode, a horrified look on his face.
Lightning crackled in the corridor. River Song appeared behind him. She pushed past him like he was a door.
"Sweetie, are you cooking pot roast?" she asked. "I could smell it all the way in Stormcage."
He nodded, grinning to see her.
“Wait a minute,” Rory said. “How could you smell it all the way in Stormcage?”
River circled a lazy finger at the ceiling, “Telepathic circuits. I expect Sexy wanted me to come for dinner.”
River looked down into the brown, bubbling mass in the cauldron, took a deep, appreciative sniff, and gave the Doctor a quick smooch.
"Excellent! I'll make the noodles."
Author: betawho
Rating: G
Characters: 11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River
Words: 500
Author's Note: Okay, this is just a little bit of nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. It has no point. It’s a drive-by ficing [get your mind out of the gutter] But I thought it was cute. So I figured I’d share.
Amy walked into the Tardis kitchen to find the Doctor cutting vegetables.
She stopped and blinked. She looked around and then back at him. He had a tea towel tucked into the waistband of his trousers, and was wielding a large knife with apparent ease. At least he didn't seem to be missing any fingers.
"Uh, Doctor," she said timidly, not wanting to distract him.
"Hmm?" he casually scooped up the pile of cut vegetables on the edge of the knife and dropped them into a pot bubbling on the stove.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked, her mind refusing to believe what her eyes were reporting.
He looked up and stared at her as if she was strange. "I'm cooking." He pulled over a bunch of celery and started chopping it with casual massacrely glee.
"You cook?" she said in disbelief.
He carried the massacred celery bits over and stirred them into the pot. "Of course I cook. Been a bachelor for centuries. What did you think?"
She walked over and cautiously peeked at the contents of the pot, wondering if she was going to find any weird purple vegetables. "I always just assumed you got takeout. That's what we usually do."
He rolled his eyes and stirred the pot. "What are you cooking?" she asked, watching him sprinkle some spice into it.
"Yankee Pot Roast."
Her eyebrows flew up and she looked back down into the brown bubbling contents of the cauldron. Strange things bobbed in it, there was no indication of a roast.
"Okay," he admitted with a glare, whipping the spoon out, flecks of gravy flying off the end. "So it always ends up more like stew. But it's good stew!" He pointed the wooden spoon at her.
She raised her hands in surrender. "I believe you."
He nodded, decisively. And went back to stirring his stew.
Rory wandered into the kitchen, yawning, hair still sticking out every which direction. "What's going on?"
"The Doctor's cooking," Amy said.
Rory froze in the doorway, his eyes darted side to side, as if he expected something to explode, a horrified look on his face.
Lightning crackled in the corridor. River Song appeared behind him. She pushed past him like he was a door.
"Sweetie, are you cooking pot roast?" she asked. "I could smell it all the way in Stormcage."
He nodded, grinning to see her.
“Wait a minute,” Rory said. “How could you smell it all the way in Stormcage?”
River circled a lazy finger at the ceiling, “Telepathic circuits. I expect Sexy wanted me to come for dinner.”
River looked down into the brown, bubbling mass in the cauldron, took a deep, appreciative sniff, and gave the Doctor a quick smooch.
"Excellent! I'll make the noodles."