ifeelbetter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ifeelbetter) wrote2010-12-11 02:24 am
ifeelbetter) wrote2010-12-11 02:24 am
Entry tags:
Holiday Post #10: Doctor Who + snowball fighting
Title: An Unnecessary Freezing of Water
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ifeelbetter
Disclaimer: I own nothing of value.
Summary: Snow day for the Tardis crew. Amy doesn't fight fair. Rory can make hot chocolate out of thin air.
Notes: I am a card-carrying member of the Nothing Happens Club. I own up to it.
"Oh, damn," the Doctor said when he poked his head out of the Tardis's doors. "That's a lot of snow." The tone wasn't fear or revulsion and that, Amy told herself, meant that there was a potential for good things to be outside.
"We can handle snow," she said, pushing him aside so she could poke her head outside too.
There was literally a wall of snow outside. The Doctor's face was coated in the stuff and Amy had it in her hair now.
"That's a lot of snow," she agreed. Damn. Her hair was going to be all clumpy now.
Rory laughed and, because he was a bit of an prat, actually pointed while he laughed. He could only point with the one hand because the other was on his knee, over which he was currently bent. Laughing.
The Doctor gave her the Look--the one that meant "I bet we won't die if we jump from here" as often as it meant "I wonder what it conveys when I put my eyebrow like this" (so, really, just this side of anything at all)--and they grinned wickedly at each other. They were quite good at that.
They also had quite good aim. Rory didn't even know what hit him.
Well, he actually did know what hit him because the two snowballs knocked him off his feet and stuck in his hair like a cartoon. But he made his Face of Surprise on the moment of impact. That was pretty close to not knowing what hit him.
"Hey!" he protested. Amy's grin expanded three sizes because he was her man everyone knew she loved him because of the protesting. Shakespeare was total bollocks about the lady protesting too much.
"Right," she said decisively. She was a woman of action, after all. "We're going to need some warmer clothes and a shovel."
"Why?" asked the Doctor. It was like someone made him especially to be her straight man in their Vaudeville act through time.
"Because we are going to have the most epic snowball fight ever," she said.
No one was willing to meet her halfway in her Wicked Grin this time. Not even the Doctor.
* * *
"No, wait, I bet I can just connect this to--where'd the blue thing go?" the Doctor asked, a blue thing clenched between his teeth.
"Is it in your teeth?" Rory asked.
"Don't be absurd--oh, no, cancel that. You're right." The Doctor brandished the blue thing triumphantly and then connected a long tube to something that looked disturbingly like an accordion (using the blue thing as some sort of apex). "I've almost got it."
"You really have that whole 'mad scientist' thing down pat," Rory said admiringly. "You look right mental."
The Doctor seemed to think that was a compliment. He also seemed much more interested in his impromptu snow-plow than anything Rory might have to offer to the conversation.
"Doctor," Amy whined, "I really want to play in the snow."
"I'm working on it!"
"Work faster."
"Just hand me the red squiggly thing--"
"The one in your hair?"
"That would be a ridiculous place for--oh, wait, you're right."
* * *
Much warfare was declared when they finally reached the surface.
Rory was wearing the knit pink hat with the pom-pom on top that the Doctor had offered to Amy (because girls like pink according to him) that Amy had then tucked over Rory's ears (because boys liked pink if you used Rory as your sample set). It had braided tails trailing down either side of his face and yellow Christmas trees knitted across the forehead. With that and the fuzzy mittens (complete with yarn-string inside his coat to keep them from getting lost), he was sort of the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.
She decimated him. He had to retreat down the tunnel they'd dug out of the Tardis to escape her wrath.
The Doctor, true to form, ran. He ran and she chased and she decimated him too.
Then she did her victory dance on his carcass.
"Stop dancing on me," he wheezed.
"The carcass can't speak to the victor," she told him. "It's the rules."
* * *
Rory had made hot chocolate by the time they found their way back (because the Doctor could run so very, very far and Amy was developing pretty keen running skills herself). There were little marshmallows and everything.
"What is this?" the Doctor asked, holding up a tiny marshmallow like it was something rare and precious and exciting.
"It's a marshmallow," Rory said, shrugging.
"I love that you still can't find your way to the bedroom without a guide but you can make marshmallows from thin air," Amy told him, kissing his nose. It was still a bit red.
"This thing made them," Rory said, holding up the red squiggly thing.
"Is that what it does?" the Doctor said, grabbing for it. He sounded thrilled.
* * *
"Amy," Rory said, poking her side. She slapped his hand.
"I'm sleeping," she told him.
"You're talking, though," he pointed out.
"I'm sleeping and talking," she said. "I'm multi-talented."
"Amy, I think it might be Christmas," he said solemnly.
"It can be whenever you like," the Doctor said from the doorway. He was still playing with the red squiggly thing. "We're in a time machine."
"I just meant. It feels like Christmas," Rory said, sinking back into the bed. Amy waited till he'd fit himself back into her side.
"Merry Christmas," she said and pressed a kiss into his hair. The fact that he always ended up the little spoon was yet another thing that she loved about him.
He bent his head back, awkwardly trying to find her face. He got her left temple with a sloppy kiss.
"Merry Christmas," he said.
There was a plop sound from the hallway.
"Oh bugger!" the Doctor said. The red squiggly thing had started to make strings of popcorn.
"Merry Christmas, Doctor," Amy and Rory said in perfect unison and slipped back to sleep.
Author:
ifeelbetterDisclaimer: I own nothing of value.
Summary: Snow day for the Tardis crew. Amy doesn't fight fair. Rory can make hot chocolate out of thin air.
Notes: I am a card-carrying member of the Nothing Happens Club. I own up to it.
"Oh, damn," the Doctor said when he poked his head out of the Tardis's doors. "That's a lot of snow." The tone wasn't fear or revulsion and that, Amy told herself, meant that there was a potential for good things to be outside.
"We can handle snow," she said, pushing him aside so she could poke her head outside too.
There was literally a wall of snow outside. The Doctor's face was coated in the stuff and Amy had it in her hair now.
"That's a lot of snow," she agreed. Damn. Her hair was going to be all clumpy now.
Rory laughed and, because he was a bit of an prat, actually pointed while he laughed. He could only point with the one hand because the other was on his knee, over which he was currently bent. Laughing.
The Doctor gave her the Look--the one that meant "I bet we won't die if we jump from here" as often as it meant "I wonder what it conveys when I put my eyebrow like this" (so, really, just this side of anything at all)--and they grinned wickedly at each other. They were quite good at that.
They also had quite good aim. Rory didn't even know what hit him.
Well, he actually did know what hit him because the two snowballs knocked him off his feet and stuck in his hair like a cartoon. But he made his Face of Surprise on the moment of impact. That was pretty close to not knowing what hit him.
"Hey!" he protested. Amy's grin expanded three sizes because he was her man everyone knew she loved him because of the protesting. Shakespeare was total bollocks about the lady protesting too much.
"Right," she said decisively. She was a woman of action, after all. "We're going to need some warmer clothes and a shovel."
"Why?" asked the Doctor. It was like someone made him especially to be her straight man in their Vaudeville act through time.
"Because we are going to have the most epic snowball fight ever," she said.
No one was willing to meet her halfway in her Wicked Grin this time. Not even the Doctor.
"No, wait, I bet I can just connect this to--where'd the blue thing go?" the Doctor asked, a blue thing clenched between his teeth.
"Is it in your teeth?" Rory asked.
"Don't be absurd--oh, no, cancel that. You're right." The Doctor brandished the blue thing triumphantly and then connected a long tube to something that looked disturbingly like an accordion (using the blue thing as some sort of apex). "I've almost got it."
"You really have that whole 'mad scientist' thing down pat," Rory said admiringly. "You look right mental."
The Doctor seemed to think that was a compliment. He also seemed much more interested in his impromptu snow-plow than anything Rory might have to offer to the conversation.
"Doctor," Amy whined, "I really want to play in the snow."
"I'm working on it!"
"Work faster."
"Just hand me the red squiggly thing--"
"The one in your hair?"
"That would be a ridiculous place for--oh, wait, you're right."
Much warfare was declared when they finally reached the surface.
Rory was wearing the knit pink hat with the pom-pom on top that the Doctor had offered to Amy (because girls like pink according to him) that Amy had then tucked over Rory's ears (because boys liked pink if you used Rory as your sample set). It had braided tails trailing down either side of his face and yellow Christmas trees knitted across the forehead. With that and the fuzzy mittens (complete with yarn-string inside his coat to keep them from getting lost), he was sort of the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.
She decimated him. He had to retreat down the tunnel they'd dug out of the Tardis to escape her wrath.
The Doctor, true to form, ran. He ran and she chased and she decimated him too.
Then she did her victory dance on his carcass.
"Stop dancing on me," he wheezed.
"The carcass can't speak to the victor," she told him. "It's the rules."
Rory had made hot chocolate by the time they found their way back (because the Doctor could run so very, very far and Amy was developing pretty keen running skills herself). There were little marshmallows and everything.
"What is this?" the Doctor asked, holding up a tiny marshmallow like it was something rare and precious and exciting.
"It's a marshmallow," Rory said, shrugging.
"I love that you still can't find your way to the bedroom without a guide but you can make marshmallows from thin air," Amy told him, kissing his nose. It was still a bit red.
"This thing made them," Rory said, holding up the red squiggly thing.
"Is that what it does?" the Doctor said, grabbing for it. He sounded thrilled.
"Amy," Rory said, poking her side. She slapped his hand.
"I'm sleeping," she told him.
"You're talking, though," he pointed out.
"I'm sleeping and talking," she said. "I'm multi-talented."
"Amy, I think it might be Christmas," he said solemnly.
"It can be whenever you like," the Doctor said from the doorway. He was still playing with the red squiggly thing. "We're in a time machine."
"I just meant. It feels like Christmas," Rory said, sinking back into the bed. Amy waited till he'd fit himself back into her side.
"Merry Christmas," she said and pressed a kiss into his hair. The fact that he always ended up the little spoon was yet another thing that she loved about him.
He bent his head back, awkwardly trying to find her face. He got her left temple with a sloppy kiss.
"Merry Christmas," he said.
There was a plop sound from the hallway.
"Oh bugger!" the Doctor said. The red squiggly thing had started to make strings of popcorn.
"Merry Christmas, Doctor," Amy and Rory said in perfect unison and slipped back to sleep.