Weekly Drabble Challenge Response: Replacement
Title: Replacement
Author: Tess/mihane_echo
Rating: Rated E for everyone
Word Count: 609
Spoilers: For 4.10 Midnight
Summary: Donna buys the Doctor a new shirt.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to the Beeb and I'm borrowing it to play with. I promise I will return them (marginally) unharmed. ;3
Author's Note: Written for Weekly Drabble Challenge #14 at doctor_donna. Prompt was lost.
The shirt just appears one day.
It's a gorgeous shirt. A soft yellow, almost milky. Richly embroidered with little eyelets of white, making the fabric look as through it's been sprinkled with stars. And it fits him perfectly, except that it's a bit long in the sleeves. The cuffs come down nearly to his knuckles.
He finds it draped carelessly over the back of the desk chair in his bedroom, almost as though he had tossed it there while undressing and just left it. Which is possible, the state his room's in; he's always rediscovering some possession what's been missing for ages. Except that he's never owned a shirt like this, especially not one that's banana yellow. (He'd remember. He likes bananas.)
Curiously, he heads for Donna's room, peeks his head in furtively. She's going through various boxes and bags, organizing the spoils of her recent shopping adventure. She glances up when the door shifts, and smirks at him. "Nice shirt."
"Hm?" He feels his ears burn and steps completely into the room, his arms outstretched. "Yeah, I guess."
"You guess?" She hooks one new top into a hanger and slips it into the wardrobe, then spares him an incredulous glance as she adds, "What in the world have you got it on for if you don't like it?"
"It's not that, just... Where did this come from?"
"You're asking me? Do I look like I dressed you today?"
He quirks one eyebrow up suspiciously. Donna is argumentative even on a good day. But this is just an absurd amount of dispute, even from her. "I have never seen this shirt before in my life."
"Where'd you find it? In that disaster zone you call your room?" Donna rolls her eyes at him. "It's probably been in there since you were going through the Terrible Two-hundreds and you just lost it."
"I wasn't this skinny when I was two-hundred," he argues. "And it fits perfectly."
"Well, either way, it's a sight better than that other one."
The Doctor blinks, confused. "Which other one?"
Donna hangs up the last of her new dresses and then comes over to him; despite the somewhat stern expression on her face, he thinks he can see a spot of color in her cheeks. Embarrassment, maybe? It would explain the unnecessarily heated discussion over his attire.
Her hands are gentle as she smoothes down his collar. "You know, the one you lost last week."
He screws up his brow in contemplation. Come to think of it, he's lost that blue one that he'd worn to... He tenses. The one he'd worn to Midnight.
He's not exactly feeling the pain of its loss; he'd had a bit of an embarrassing episode one morning when he realized it smelled like the truck. Positively reeked of it. Of sweat and vinyl seating and manky carpeting that hadn't been properly cleaned in months.
It had been enough to suddenly bring everything back, the terror, the helplessness; he'd sat in the kitchen, an anxious mess, with one hand clamped around a mug of hot tea and the other around Donna's hand.
And then the damn thing had conveniently disappeared within a few hours. He hasn't seen it in days; he'd long since figured the TARDIS had thrown it out with the rubbish.
But now, the Doctor gazes down at Donna, wondering... And as she rubs her fingers affectionately over the back of his hand, just underneath his new, overlong cuff, he knows. His hearts swell with emotion, and he reaches up, pushes her fiery hair back behind her ear.
"Thank you," he whispers.
Donna smiles at him. "No problem, Spaceman."
end
Author: Tess/mihane_echo
Rating: Rated E for everyone
Word Count: 609
Spoilers: For 4.10 Midnight
Summary: Donna buys the Doctor a new shirt.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to the Beeb and I'm borrowing it to play with. I promise I will return them (marginally) unharmed. ;3
Author's Note: Written for Weekly Drabble Challenge #14 at doctor_donna. Prompt was lost.
The shirt just appears one day.
It's a gorgeous shirt. A soft yellow, almost milky. Richly embroidered with little eyelets of white, making the fabric look as through it's been sprinkled with stars. And it fits him perfectly, except that it's a bit long in the sleeves. The cuffs come down nearly to his knuckles.
He finds it draped carelessly over the back of the desk chair in his bedroom, almost as though he had tossed it there while undressing and just left it. Which is possible, the state his room's in; he's always rediscovering some possession what's been missing for ages. Except that he's never owned a shirt like this, especially not one that's banana yellow. (He'd remember. He likes bananas.)
Curiously, he heads for Donna's room, peeks his head in furtively. She's going through various boxes and bags, organizing the spoils of her recent shopping adventure. She glances up when the door shifts, and smirks at him. "Nice shirt."
"Hm?" He feels his ears burn and steps completely into the room, his arms outstretched. "Yeah, I guess."
"You guess?" She hooks one new top into a hanger and slips it into the wardrobe, then spares him an incredulous glance as she adds, "What in the world have you got it on for if you don't like it?"
"It's not that, just... Where did this come from?"
"You're asking me? Do I look like I dressed you today?"
He quirks one eyebrow up suspiciously. Donna is argumentative even on a good day. But this is just an absurd amount of dispute, even from her. "I have never seen this shirt before in my life."
"Where'd you find it? In that disaster zone you call your room?" Donna rolls her eyes at him. "It's probably been in there since you were going through the Terrible Two-hundreds and you just lost it."
"I wasn't this skinny when I was two-hundred," he argues. "And it fits perfectly."
"Well, either way, it's a sight better than that other one."
The Doctor blinks, confused. "Which other one?"
Donna hangs up the last of her new dresses and then comes over to him; despite the somewhat stern expression on her face, he thinks he can see a spot of color in her cheeks. Embarrassment, maybe? It would explain the unnecessarily heated discussion over his attire.
Her hands are gentle as she smoothes down his collar. "You know, the one you lost last week."
He screws up his brow in contemplation. Come to think of it, he's lost that blue one that he'd worn to... He tenses. The one he'd worn to Midnight.
He's not exactly feeling the pain of its loss; he'd had a bit of an embarrassing episode one morning when he realized it smelled like the truck. Positively reeked of it. Of sweat and vinyl seating and manky carpeting that hadn't been properly cleaned in months.
It had been enough to suddenly bring everything back, the terror, the helplessness; he'd sat in the kitchen, an anxious mess, with one hand clamped around a mug of hot tea and the other around Donna's hand.
And then the damn thing had conveniently disappeared within a few hours. He hasn't seen it in days; he'd long since figured the TARDIS had thrown it out with the rubbish.
But now, the Doctor gazes down at Donna, wondering... And as she rubs her fingers affectionately over the back of his hand, just underneath his new, overlong cuff, he knows. His hearts swell with emotion, and he reaches up, pushes her fiery hair back behind her ear.
"Thank you," he whispers.
Donna smiles at him. "No problem, Spaceman."
end