Chapter Text
The Doctor wrinkled his nose in distaste, corners of his mouth turned down in a classic Time Lord scowl of disapproval.
“What is that?” he demanded of Rose, leaning back in his chair to escape the offending fruit.
Rose sighed and withdrew her outstretched palm. “Doctor. It’s a pear. It’s edible. How many times do I hafta tell you before you believe me?”
“That is not fit for Time Lord consumption.”
Rose rolled her eyes for perhaps the thousandth time in the past ten minutes. “You are being a child.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“900 years of time and space and I’ve never even heard of pears.”
Rose cocked an eyebrow at him and said nothing, causing the Doctor to huff noisily and glare out the open window in a manner he clearly considered to be the absolute image of majestic dignity. The way the golden sunlight illuminated the blond streaks in her—the—Time Lord’s hair was indeed a majestic sight, but Rose did not deign to inform him of the fact. Instead, she ignored him completely and went back to munching on her pear.
The Doctor, his chair now tipped back so far it appeared to defy gravity, folded his arms defiantly to regain her attention.
“I hate pears.”
Rose rolled her eyes so forcefully she briefly thought they might get stuck to the back of her head.
“You’ve never even tried one.”
“So?”
Sitting there with a pout on his face and a glint in his eye, Rose found the Doctor completely irresistible. Not that she’d ever let him know that, either; she absolutely did not find his 900-year-old-toddler antics at all endearing.
The Oncoming Storm dared to meet Rose Tyler’s amused gaze just as her lips curled into a devilish smirk. Apprehension dawned in his eyes, but Rose had already launched herself out of her chair. She thrust the pear slice at him threateningly.
“Doctor. Try it.”
The Last of the Time Lords hissed and attempted to flee, but only succeeded in tipping his chair over. He and his companion emitted identical squeaks of alarm as, grabbing her wrist for balance, the Doctor pulled Rose down with him. The Doctor took the opportunity to wrestle the now-mangled pear slice from her hand and tossed it across the room, snorting in triumph.
“Doc-tor,” Rose scolded him.
“What?” he asked, looking up at her innocently.
Sprawled across him, Rose glared up at the Doctor through a tuft of hair to hide her blush. His hand drifted almost imperceptibly lower, brushing the bare skin where her shirt had ridden up.
Still holding her wrist, the Doctor brought her hand to his face and surveyed her fingers carefully. Like a suspicious cat, he sniffed disparagingly before licking the pear juice from her palm.
An expression of wonder crossed the Time Lord’s face and his tongue darted out again to taste Rose’s fingers, but she had already scrambled off of him, regaining her dignified position at the table. She looked down at the Doctor’s dazed expression with more smugness than anyone had the right to possess.
“Toldja so.”