On The Subject Of Foamy Drinks
Title: On The Subject Of Foamy Drinks
Characters: Donna, Doctor
Summary: The TARDIS mopes more than the Doctor. Post- & Pre-JE.
Rating: G
Word Count: ca. 900
Disclaimer: Am I rolling in money? (Monopoly money doesn't count.)
A/N: Late reply to the Weekly Drabble Prompt #18 at doctor_donna. It's also ... weird.
A faint feeling of disapproval was emanating from the walls. The Doctor glared at them. “I’m not addicted. I can easily stop. Anytime. I just don’t want to.”
The feeling of disapproval intensified.
“Oh, stop it. You’re as bad about this as Donna.”
As happened every time he mentioned his latest companion, the TARDIS cut the link with him. The continuous hum lowered and quietened. The lights darkened.
The behaviour had freaked him out the first time it had happened. He merely rolled his eyes now. “Cut it out, will you? You’ve been moping all across the universe. You’re worse than I am. At least, I don’t let losing her stop me from saving the day. But you … You’re going into shut-down every time I mention her or something reminds you of her and don’t think I’ll forgive you anytime soon for doing it in the middle of the freaking battle last week.”
The door to the TARDIS opened and the object of their grief entered.
“Forgot my jacket,” Donna explained.
The Doctor nodded numbly as he watched her dash across the control room and speak to the TARDIS.
“Sweetheart, do you know where I’ve put my coat - you know, the brown-ish, leather one?”
The TARDIS hummed in surprise. Donna was already through the door that led to the inside of the ship.
The Doctor slapped his forehead. “Shan Shen!” he exclaimed. “I forgot. Why didn’t you tell me?”
His ship radiated disapproval at him.
“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Yes. Quite. You did.” He stared hopelessly at the empty doorway. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“What?” Donna had returned.
The Doctor coughed. “Nothing. I see you’ve found it.”
“Yes, she put it on my bed.” Donna patted the central column fondly. “Thanks. You’re a darling.”
The lights brightened suddenly and the Doctor had the distinct feeling if the TARDIS were a dog, she’d be wagging her tail and trying to lick Donna’s face right now. It was disgraceful. He glared at his ship.
“My, aren’t we in a mood, Mr Hoity-Toity Timelord?” Donna looked at him curiously. “What’s the matter? Have the people of Shan Shen decided they won’t cater to your addiction anymore?”
The Doctor threw up his hands in frustration. “First my ship, now you. What’s today? Awesome Girls of The Universe Unite Against The Timelord Day?”
“Nah,” Donna drawled. “That’s every day.”
The Doctor grumbled but had the distinct feeling if he were a dog, he’d wag his tail and try to lick Donna’s face right now. He blamed it on the mindlink with his ship.
"I'm not addicted," he said again.
Donna raised her eyebrows. "You could have fooled me with the speed with which you left. I lost you the moment you stepped out of the TARDIS."
"I'm sorry." The Doctor was really sorry. He had eschewed a day with Donna for floaty, foamy drinks. "I am."
"So, why are you back already?" she asked.
"Uhm..." he wildly cast around for an answer. "I noticed you weren't behind me and thought I'd better find you."
"Good," she said. "Now you can lead me to the floaty drinks that have you foaming at the mouth when you talk about them."
"I'm not foaming at the mouth," he protested.
Donna tugged at his arm. "Come on! Floaty drinks! Foamy drinks! And stop drooling!"
"I'm not drooling." The Doctor wiped his chin surreptitiously as he let himself be dragged out of the TARDIS.
*
By her third drink Donna had to admit that he was right and this was a bloody marvelous drink.
Triumphantly, the Doctor bought her a fourth.
He didn't think of keeping her from the fortune teller. Not hearing the warning wouldn't stop the chain of events anyway.
He didn't think of abducting and running away with her. It would destroy the universes if he did.
It absolutely didn't cross his mind when he saw her entering the stall and saw his younger self ambling up the road.
"Screw the universes," he muttered and yelled at Donna's retreating back, "Don't listen to your heart! Don't listen to his heart!"
Then he quickly ducked away. He didn't want to meet his younger self. "Vain idiot!" His anger was directed at himself. Twice at the same time, which is not something many people manage. "Should have regenerated."
Despite knowing that nothing would have changed - he'd have noticed if anything had changed, his shoulders slumped when he found the TARDIS still empty upon his return.
He sighed and said to his ship, "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time we had a good mope."
So they went to Chiswick and watched gloomily from the shadows as Donna stumbled home after a night at the pub.
*
Somewhere in another universe, a man shot up in his bed and said, "That wasn't me. I don't remember that."
He combined two brilliant minds in his head and it didn't take him long to figure it out.
He stared into the dark and whispered, "There has never been a human-timelord metacrisis."
"Because there can't be," he replied.
He understood what Donna hadn't. "Don't listen to his heart," he mumbled. "I wish you hadn't."
Since he was part the Doctor, he had a moment of existential angst about this. And since he was also part Donna Noble, he mocked himself heartily for it.
Then both his minds froze up in terror. "No," he moaned. "No more floaty drinks."
Characters: Donna, Doctor
Summary: The TARDIS mopes more than the Doctor. Post- & Pre-JE.
Rating: G
Word Count: ca. 900
Disclaimer: Am I rolling in money? (Monopoly money doesn't count.)
A/N: Late reply to the Weekly Drabble Prompt #18 at doctor_donna. It's also ... weird.
A faint feeling of disapproval was emanating from the walls. The Doctor glared at them. “I’m not addicted. I can easily stop. Anytime. I just don’t want to.”
The feeling of disapproval intensified.
“Oh, stop it. You’re as bad about this as Donna.”
As happened every time he mentioned his latest companion, the TARDIS cut the link with him. The continuous hum lowered and quietened. The lights darkened.
The behaviour had freaked him out the first time it had happened. He merely rolled his eyes now. “Cut it out, will you? You’ve been moping all across the universe. You’re worse than I am. At least, I don’t let losing her stop me from saving the day. But you … You’re going into shut-down every time I mention her or something reminds you of her and don’t think I’ll forgive you anytime soon for doing it in the middle of the freaking battle last week.”
The door to the TARDIS opened and the object of their grief entered.
“Forgot my jacket,” Donna explained.
The Doctor nodded numbly as he watched her dash across the control room and speak to the TARDIS.
“Sweetheart, do you know where I’ve put my coat - you know, the brown-ish, leather one?”
The TARDIS hummed in surprise. Donna was already through the door that led to the inside of the ship.
The Doctor slapped his forehead. “Shan Shen!” he exclaimed. “I forgot. Why didn’t you tell me?”
His ship radiated disapproval at him.
“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Yes. Quite. You did.” He stared hopelessly at the empty doorway. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“What?” Donna had returned.
The Doctor coughed. “Nothing. I see you’ve found it.”
“Yes, she put it on my bed.” Donna patted the central column fondly. “Thanks. You’re a darling.”
The lights brightened suddenly and the Doctor had the distinct feeling if the TARDIS were a dog, she’d be wagging her tail and trying to lick Donna’s face right now. It was disgraceful. He glared at his ship.
“My, aren’t we in a mood, Mr Hoity-Toity Timelord?” Donna looked at him curiously. “What’s the matter? Have the people of Shan Shen decided they won’t cater to your addiction anymore?”
The Doctor threw up his hands in frustration. “First my ship, now you. What’s today? Awesome Girls of The Universe Unite Against The Timelord Day?”
“Nah,” Donna drawled. “That’s every day.”
The Doctor grumbled but had the distinct feeling if he were a dog, he’d wag his tail and try to lick Donna’s face right now. He blamed it on the mindlink with his ship.
"I'm not addicted," he said again.
Donna raised her eyebrows. "You could have fooled me with the speed with which you left. I lost you the moment you stepped out of the TARDIS."
"I'm sorry." The Doctor was really sorry. He had eschewed a day with Donna for floaty, foamy drinks. "I am."
"So, why are you back already?" she asked.
"Uhm..." he wildly cast around for an answer. "I noticed you weren't behind me and thought I'd better find you."
"Good," she said. "Now you can lead me to the floaty drinks that have you foaming at the mouth when you talk about them."
"I'm not foaming at the mouth," he protested.
Donna tugged at his arm. "Come on! Floaty drinks! Foamy drinks! And stop drooling!"
"I'm not drooling." The Doctor wiped his chin surreptitiously as he let himself be dragged out of the TARDIS.
*
By her third drink Donna had to admit that he was right and this was a bloody marvelous drink.
Triumphantly, the Doctor bought her a fourth.
He didn't think of keeping her from the fortune teller. Not hearing the warning wouldn't stop the chain of events anyway.
He didn't think of abducting and running away with her. It would destroy the universes if he did.
It absolutely didn't cross his mind when he saw her entering the stall and saw his younger self ambling up the road.
"Screw the universes," he muttered and yelled at Donna's retreating back, "Don't listen to your heart! Don't listen to his heart!"
Then he quickly ducked away. He didn't want to meet his younger self. "Vain idiot!" His anger was directed at himself. Twice at the same time, which is not something many people manage. "Should have regenerated."
Despite knowing that nothing would have changed - he'd have noticed if anything had changed, his shoulders slumped when he found the TARDIS still empty upon his return.
He sighed and said to his ship, "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time we had a good mope."
So they went to Chiswick and watched gloomily from the shadows as Donna stumbled home after a night at the pub.
*
Somewhere in another universe, a man shot up in his bed and said, "That wasn't me. I don't remember that."
He combined two brilliant minds in his head and it didn't take him long to figure it out.
He stared into the dark and whispered, "There has never been a human-timelord metacrisis."
"Because there can't be," he replied.
He understood what Donna hadn't. "Don't listen to his heart," he mumbled. "I wish you hadn't."
Since he was part the Doctor, he had a moment of existential angst about this. And since he was also part Donna Noble, he mocked himself heartily for it.
Then both his minds froze up in terror. "No," he moaned. "No more floaty drinks."