Post by cat on Sept 10, 2005 16:47:58 GMT
The Doctor starts to grow a beard, and it doesnt go unoticed.
What does Rose and Jack think?
How does the Doctor defend his actions?
“What’s that?” asked Rose as the Doctor entered the Kitchen.
“What?” he replied, looking perplexed.
“That…” she pointed to the lower half of his face. “Thing!”
The Doctor raised his hand and stroked his chin. “It’s a beard.”
“But… You don’t have a beard.”
“Says who? I’m just trying it out. What do you think?”
The appalled expression on her face should have given him a clue, she thought but tactfully she replied “Dunno.”
The Doctor poured himself coffee and sat at the table. Rose finished preparing her cereal, casting furtive glances in his direction. The Doctor pretended no to notice.
She sat opposite him and continued to study him stealthy as he browsed through a magazine she’d left there.
“Go on,” he said, not looking up.
“What?”
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever’s running through your mind that’s making you look at me like I’m some kind of circus attraction.”
“I wasn’t.” she protested.
The Doctor looked up at her, his expression asking her what she took him for.
“Morning,” called Jack, breezing in. “Oh, that looks nasty Doc. I’ve got some cream you can borrow, kills fungus dead in one treatment.”
The Doctor was becoming annoyed. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it either?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it!” protested Rose.
“You didn’t have to.”
Jack held his hands up. “Hey! I was just kidding. I think it looks cool. Gives you a real… Hard man edge, you know.”
The Doctor studied Jacks face to see if he was being laughed at but Jack appeared to be telling the truth.
Jack turned to pour some coffee and smiled to himself. He thought he had a pretty good idea why the Doctor had decided to grow a beard and wondered if Rose had figured it out yet.
Three days earlier
“What’s it about?” asked Rose, dipping into the popcorn bowl and grabbing a handful.
“Illegal boxing matches, a jewellery heist, gangland violence, that kind of stuff,” said Jack, reading the back of the DVD box.
Rose pulled a face.
“It’s got Brad Pitt in it.” He offered.
Rose brightened. “OK, I’m sold.”
The Doctor looked questioningly at her. “That’s it? The mention of one mans name can make you want to watch a film you had no interest in before?”
“But this isn’t just any man, this is Brad Pitt.”
“Who’s he when he’s at home?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
“No, come on, I wanna know about this man who can suddenly make you interested in gangland violence.”
“Put it this way, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”
The Doctor nodded, understanding finally dawning on him. “Women,” he commented to Jack as he sat beside them and started the film.
Jack smiled to himself as he sipped his coffee. Poor Doc, he probably didn’t realise that Brad Pitt was usually a smooth, shaven, pretty boy and he hadn’t stayed around after the film to hear Rose comment that she “could do without the face fuzz”.
But he wasn’t going to let the Doctor know, it was too much fun this way this way. Besides, Jack found himself liking the look more and more.
Rose was annoyed. The Doctor shouldn’t have a beard. It was just wrong. Totally, utterly and completely wrong. And the longer he kept it, the less she liked it.
Jack found the whole thing hilarious and claimed to like it, but Rose just didn’t get the attraction.
Now, five days later, she had decided the TARDIS wasn’t big enough for the both of them and the beard had to go.
The Doctor was asleep as she crept into his room. He was lying on his back, which made things a lot easier for her. She quietly put her things down on the table beside the bed then straddled him, pinning his arms at his sides.
Immediately his eyes flew open. “Rose?” he asked. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago.”
The Doctor wriggled beneath her, trying to free himself. “Keep still!” Rose admonished, reaching for the soap and brush. “You really don’t want to squirm too much!”
She lathered the brush up and began to rub the foam over the Doctors beard.
“If you hate it that much you only had to say.” He told her.
“I did say. Repeatedly. Now I’m done talking.”
She leaned over to the table again and game back brandishing a razor. “Now, keep still,” she told him, bending closer.
“If you cut me I’ll make you sorry.” He told her.
She looked into his eyes. “Is that keeping still?” she asked.
He decided to let her.
He watched her as she drew the razor over his skin, her features taut with concentration. She ran the razor over his jaw and up his cheek, never taking her eyes away from its path. Her tongue poked through her lips as she focused on her task.
She worked her way methodically, from one side towards the middle, carefully removing all trace of the offending facial hair.
She pulled the skin on his upper lip taut as she drew her razor over it.
The Doctor couldn’t look away from her. The look of attentiveness on her face was captivating.
She began moving onto the right side of his face, her right arm blocking his view somewhat.
Finally she sat back to survey her work and smiled, pleased with herself.
Her smile fell and she reached for the towel she’d brought, dabbing his right cheek with it.
“What?” he asked.
Rose bit her lip. “I cut you.”
The Doctor realised he hadn’t even felt it. He smiled at her as she began wiping away the rest of the excess foam. “Aah well, practice makes perfect.”
She frowned. “You mean…”
“Same time tomorrow alright?”
What does Rose and Jack think?
How does the Doctor defend his actions?
***
“What’s that?” asked Rose as the Doctor entered the Kitchen.
“What?” he replied, looking perplexed.
“That…” she pointed to the lower half of his face. “Thing!”
The Doctor raised his hand and stroked his chin. “It’s a beard.”
“But… You don’t have a beard.”
“Says who? I’m just trying it out. What do you think?”
The appalled expression on her face should have given him a clue, she thought but tactfully she replied “Dunno.”
The Doctor poured himself coffee and sat at the table. Rose finished preparing her cereal, casting furtive glances in his direction. The Doctor pretended no to notice.
She sat opposite him and continued to study him stealthy as he browsed through a magazine she’d left there.
“Go on,” he said, not looking up.
“What?”
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever’s running through your mind that’s making you look at me like I’m some kind of circus attraction.”
“I wasn’t.” she protested.
The Doctor looked up at her, his expression asking her what she took him for.
“Morning,” called Jack, breezing in. “Oh, that looks nasty Doc. I’ve got some cream you can borrow, kills fungus dead in one treatment.”
The Doctor was becoming annoyed. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it either?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it!” protested Rose.
“You didn’t have to.”
Jack held his hands up. “Hey! I was just kidding. I think it looks cool. Gives you a real… Hard man edge, you know.”
The Doctor studied Jacks face to see if he was being laughed at but Jack appeared to be telling the truth.
Jack turned to pour some coffee and smiled to himself. He thought he had a pretty good idea why the Doctor had decided to grow a beard and wondered if Rose had figured it out yet.
***
Three days earlier
“What’s it about?” asked Rose, dipping into the popcorn bowl and grabbing a handful.
“Illegal boxing matches, a jewellery heist, gangland violence, that kind of stuff,” said Jack, reading the back of the DVD box.
Rose pulled a face.
“It’s got Brad Pitt in it.” He offered.
Rose brightened. “OK, I’m sold.”
The Doctor looked questioningly at her. “That’s it? The mention of one mans name can make you want to watch a film you had no interest in before?”
“But this isn’t just any man, this is Brad Pitt.”
“Who’s he when he’s at home?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
“No, come on, I wanna know about this man who can suddenly make you interested in gangland violence.”
“Put it this way, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”
The Doctor nodded, understanding finally dawning on him. “Women,” he commented to Jack as he sat beside them and started the film.
***
Jack smiled to himself as he sipped his coffee. Poor Doc, he probably didn’t realise that Brad Pitt was usually a smooth, shaven, pretty boy and he hadn’t stayed around after the film to hear Rose comment that she “could do without the face fuzz”.
But he wasn’t going to let the Doctor know, it was too much fun this way this way. Besides, Jack found himself liking the look more and more.
***
Rose was annoyed. The Doctor shouldn’t have a beard. It was just wrong. Totally, utterly and completely wrong. And the longer he kept it, the less she liked it.
Jack found the whole thing hilarious and claimed to like it, but Rose just didn’t get the attraction.
Now, five days later, she had decided the TARDIS wasn’t big enough for the both of them and the beard had to go.
The Doctor was asleep as she crept into his room. He was lying on his back, which made things a lot easier for her. She quietly put her things down on the table beside the bed then straddled him, pinning his arms at his sides.
Immediately his eyes flew open. “Rose?” he asked. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago.”
The Doctor wriggled beneath her, trying to free himself. “Keep still!” Rose admonished, reaching for the soap and brush. “You really don’t want to squirm too much!”
She lathered the brush up and began to rub the foam over the Doctors beard.
“If you hate it that much you only had to say.” He told her.
“I did say. Repeatedly. Now I’m done talking.”
She leaned over to the table again and game back brandishing a razor. “Now, keep still,” she told him, bending closer.
“If you cut me I’ll make you sorry.” He told her.
She looked into his eyes. “Is that keeping still?” she asked.
He decided to let her.
He watched her as she drew the razor over his skin, her features taut with concentration. She ran the razor over his jaw and up his cheek, never taking her eyes away from its path. Her tongue poked through her lips as she focused on her task.
She worked her way methodically, from one side towards the middle, carefully removing all trace of the offending facial hair.
She pulled the skin on his upper lip taut as she drew her razor over it.
The Doctor couldn’t look away from her. The look of attentiveness on her face was captivating.
She began moving onto the right side of his face, her right arm blocking his view somewhat.
Finally she sat back to survey her work and smiled, pleased with herself.
Her smile fell and she reached for the towel she’d brought, dabbing his right cheek with it.
“What?” he asked.
Rose bit her lip. “I cut you.”
The Doctor realised he hadn’t even felt it. He smiled at her as she began wiping away the rest of the excess foam. “Aah well, practice makes perfect.”
She frowned. “You mean…”
“Same time tomorrow alright?”