tampered | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

When; January 4th
Rating; PG
Characters; Rose Tyler

missrosetyler and The Second Doctor

seconddoctor_cia
Summary; Rose returns to her flat to find her new flat mate getting into trouble.
Log;

The shop had been busy but Rose Tyler isn't about to give into her exhaustion, not when she's entering the lift to head to her flat. The day's events flash through her mind, the loud customers, the piles of clothes that needed to be folded and hung and the countless of other things that came along with running a shop. Which reminds her that she really needs to get to the pile of clothes back at her flat. Just as the lift dings signaling her floor, she steps out and walks down the hallway reaching her door. She fishes her key out and enters closing the door behind her.

It all just seems too quiet. No sounds of trains that she has gotten used to.

"Doctor? Are you in?"

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The (Second) Doctor is busy in the kitchen, rattling around in search of ingredients. His clothes are stained with flour spots as he's just baked a batch of brownies and is now in the mood for cookies. Perhaps because of the New Year's festivities, he's feeling the need to eat more since he spent a lot of time drinking.

He hears Rose calling. She must have just walked in.

"Ah, Rose. I'm so glad you're in. You don't happen to have more flour, do you?"

Setting her keys on the coffee table along with her mobile, Rose turns her head at hearing the voice. If he's in the kitchen, then it can only mean trouble.

"Flour?" she repeats approaching the direction of the voice. She imagines to find the absolute worse. An as she enters, her eyes settle on the Second Doctor's form. She cracks a smile as she tries to recall the location of the flour.

"It should be on the third top shelf next to the cocoa." she points over to the direction. "Been keeping busy, I see." She's curious now as to the occasion of this as her eyes focus on the batch of brownies. They actually look good.

"What's the occasion?"

Edited 2014-01-04 22:16 (UTC)

He grins at the sight of her and looks in the direction she says.

"Oh no, occasion," he says. "After making merry the other night I just had quite the craving for sugar."

He looks at the batch of brownies he made and his face falls for a moment, noticing the few squares he's already eaten for himself. He looks away and peeks in the shelf she mentioned, finding a fresh bag.

"There we are!" he exclaims. "Help yourself if you like."

She knows what night he means as she thinks back to New Years Eve. "Yeah, I heard you were the life of the party with those Supermodels." she says maintaining a smile and doing her best not to think past that.

"Thanks," she says approaching the batch and plucking a brownie square. She bites into it and it tastes just as good as it smells. "This is really good." Definitely better than anything she has ever attempted.

"You should bake more often."

He pours some flour into a bowl before going for the refrigerator for more eggs.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies. "I picked up the recipe in Amsterdam. I hope I got it right."

He takes out some eggs and a stick of butter, ready to set about his work again. He doesn't remember much of the night, but remembers having a good time. Though not too good a time. He wonders what she thought he was up to.

Another bite and she looks over at him. Her first thought is has she just heard him right? Amsterdam? It worries her for a moment as she debates finishing the brownie off. It would be rude not to though. Not that she tastes anything funny at all.

"Who gave it to you?" she asks before taking the final bite.

A part of her still feels bad about getting side tracked but then she's not sure if the other him had told him that he was going to bring her there.

Edited 2014-01-04 22:31 (UTC)

He turns to her, noticing the worry on her face. Why would she be worried.

"This baker that owned a shop. Why do you ask?" he replies. Then it hits him. "Oh! Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm so sorry, Rose. I meant New New Amsterdam."

He ticks off his fingers making sure he has the right one. He nods, satisfied he has it right.

"Don't worry," he says trying to reassure her. "There's nothing else in them other than what you would expect to find."

"Oh." The expression on her face relaxes and she smiles recalling New New York for a moment and that apple grass. "Right. Well never went there. Visited New New York once."

She eyes another brownie and reaches for her second one.

"It's okay. I trust you." Famous last words really but it is the truth.

"Gonna make more brownies?"

He can already guess how she got to New New York. He'll have to remember to have a word with her about telling him where she's gone.

"Actually, no. It's cookies this time." he replies. "And yes, the recipe is a normal one."

He starts breaking the eggs and pouring them into the mix. A bit of shell and yolk juice spillover the bowl. He puts in a square of butter and returns to the refrigerator.

"Now I know I saw them somewhere in here..."

Cookies? That's even better. She can almost feel herself gaining weight at the thought of it, especially if they are anything like his brownies.

"What are you looking for now?" she asks curiously walking over to where he is and leaning forward. "I can help you, if you want."

The clothes that she has to wash are forgotten for a moment.

His eyes alight as he finds what he's after--an opened bag of chocolate chips.

"These taste much better when used for cookies," he tells her with a mischievous grin.

Despite his words he pops one into his mouth and eats it, and empties the bag into the bowl.

She watches him taking note of the bag. There have been many night she's popped into the fridge to take a few for herself. It's like a late night snack of sorts and they really do taste good just on their own. At least to her but then again she has yet to taste his cookies.

"That remains to be proven," she teases with a grin although she is sure that the cookies will come out brilliantly.

He pats his pockets, and finally pulls out a small pouch. He pours a small amount of a powdery substance into the mix and starts stirring it.

"Could you hand me a pan, please?"

He continues stirring at a frantic pace, stopping to dip his finger into the doughy mix for a taste.

He makes a satisfied sound.

She opens a cabinet and searches before pulling out a pan and handing it over to him. She can't help but maintain her grin. She almost wants to laugh as the thought of the other version of him doing this runs through her head. He'd be breaking out in hives by this point.

"Need anything else?" She's always up for helping.

He starts scooping gobs of dough onto the pan before turning on the oven.

"Oh, thank you but no," he replies. "Actually, yes, set a timer for fifteen minutes please and set the tray inside."

He licks the spoon once the bowl's empty before setting both items aside and exiting the kitchen.

Just as she is about to pluck another brownie, she stops and looks over at him. Timer. Right. She can do that easily. Looking around she spots it by the counter and sets it. She then reaches for the tray and sets it in the oven closing the door.

"There we go," she says with a grin his way. The clothes cross her mind and she knows that she has to get to them soon.

"You'll be okay then?"

He's barely paying attention as he enters the loo to empty the hamper. He doesn't know why he has so much energy. It must be because he slept the entire day after New Year's. He was surprised to find the flat was empty. He'll have to remember to ask her about that.

"Quite alright."

He sniffs something in the pile he just pulled out from the hamper. They're all her clothes.

"That's a peculiar smell," he mutters to himself.

When he exits the kitchen, Rose follows knowing that the cookies should be alright on their own. Not like the flat was going to burn.

When she finds him in the loo next to her pile of clothes, her heart leaps into her throat or so it feels like.

"No!" she almost shouts. "It's okay, really. That's sort of my job, Doctor." She reaches for his arm trying to steer him away from the pile of clothes.

Her tone surprises him. He thought she'd be grateful for the help. The clothes do seem rather dirty. In fact, he can smell a dampness and sees some odd stains.

"Are you sure? I thought I could help with a few things."

He wonders why she's so...worried? She sounded worried about something.

Oh she is worried alright even with as much as she tries to hide it. Her eyes just can't lie.

"Positive," she says trying to sound as normal as possible. Why couldn't she had left these back in the TARDIS?

"Besides you're baking just now. Don't want you doing all the work."

Will he buy that?

"Well, that's I had the timer set," he replies.

Her behavior seems a little more stranger than usual. Now he wonders if there's something she's hiding. He thinks better of it.

"Well, I suppose it's not important then."

Although, there is something he smells there that almost seems familiar.

"I appreciate that you really want to help out. I really do." she says eyeing the pile before gathering a small pile in her arms to put in the wash.

"But we've all got our duties, yeah? I'd be taking advantage of you if I let you do this." and that is something that she does not want to do. Well that and finding out about other things.

He seems to agree with this sentiment. Still, he can't help but wonder what it is he noticed. Perhaps it's none of his business.

"Oh, very well." he says.

He starts heading for the kitchen again to get another brownie. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Did you enjoy the festivities, by the way?"

She rushes over to the washing machine located in the back of the kitchen area and proceeds to dump the clothes in the machine before reaching for the washing powder.

The question is crystal clear but how to go about answering it?

"Yeah, it was brilliant," she responds trying to focus on powering the machine and turning the correct setting. Her back's to him so he can't see the slight blush at her cheeks. It had been quite a night indeed.

Well, at least she enjoyed herself. Helping himself to another brownie, a question forms in his mind.

"You didn't hear from Pinstripes that night, did you?" he asks.

He's wondering this because she did mention that he had been entertaining "supermodels." They really weren't, though. Just some girls who were entertained by his stories.