Drabble Series: Little Moments - A Case of the Flu
Title: A Case of the Flu
Author: WhosInTheAttic
Pairing: TenToo/Rose
Rating: K
Words: 240
"I'm dying Rose!" the Doctor groans, "I'm sure of it." She's sitting beside him on the bed that they share.
"Don't be so melodramatic," she chides him gently, plucking the thermometer from his mouth, "You've jus' got a flu."
"A horrible flu," he whinges, "A bird flu. A swine flu." He closes his eyes and sighs, settling into the pillows; the bedclothes are twisted haphazardly from having been pulled over him and cast off repeatedly as he'd passed between fits of overheating and chills.
"Thirty-eight an' a half," she says, furrowing her brows, "You're still runnin' a bit hot, love." She presses a cool cloth to his forehead.
"That's because I have West Nile," his says, his bottom lip jutting in a small pout.
Rose stifles a giggle, "They don't even have that in this universe, Doctor." She wets the cloth again in the basin on the night table, wrings it out, and pats it along his cheek, down his neck and across his chest before placing it on his forehead again.
"Even so, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," he groaned, "even when I was suffering infection from far more advanced viruses."
"Well then," she said, "'S a good thing I've brought you some chicken soup, yeah?" she gestures to the bowl on the night table. "Mum's recipe."
He cocked an eyebrow in mock suspicion before smiling sweetly at her. "Rose Tyler, you are wonderful."
Author: WhosInTheAttic
Pairing: TenToo/Rose
Rating: K
Words: 240
"I'm dying Rose!" the Doctor groans, "I'm sure of it." She's sitting beside him on the bed that they share.
"Don't be so melodramatic," she chides him gently, plucking the thermometer from his mouth, "You've jus' got a flu."
"A horrible flu," he whinges, "A bird flu. A swine flu." He closes his eyes and sighs, settling into the pillows; the bedclothes are twisted haphazardly from having been pulled over him and cast off repeatedly as he'd passed between fits of overheating and chills.
"Thirty-eight an' a half," she says, furrowing her brows, "You're still runnin' a bit hot, love." She presses a cool cloth to his forehead.
"That's because I have West Nile," his says, his bottom lip jutting in a small pout.
Rose stifles a giggle, "They don't even have that in this universe, Doctor." She wets the cloth again in the basin on the night table, wrings it out, and pats it along his cheek, down his neck and across his chest before placing it on his forehead again.
"Even so, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," he groaned, "even when I was suffering infection from far more advanced viruses."
"Well then," she said, "'S a good thing I've brought you some chicken soup, yeah?" she gestures to the bowl on the night table. "Mum's recipe."
He cocked an eyebrow in mock suspicion before smiling sweetly at her. "Rose Tyler, you are wonderful."