Disclaimer: It's not mine, but never mind, soon it won't be RTD's either.
WARNING: My first attempt at PPAF (Pointless Plotless Angstless Fluff). KateCarter says it's good, but she always thinks it's good, so I'm not entirely convinced.
The Doctor had been looking Like That all day, and both Rose and Mickey were more than a little disturbed. Well, to put it more accurately, Rose was disturbed, and Mickey was disturbed at Rose being disturbed, as he'd never seen her disturbed by absolutely nothing at all. Hell, he hadn't seen her disturbed by massive alien creatures tying her up because she was apparently their goddess or whatnot— he wasn't really paying much attention, given the fact that someone was tethering his girlfriend to a statue of some kind and this, to him, seemed like a cause for panic. Come to think of it, when they'd done that, she'd been almost infuriatingly calm. But now the Doctor was pacing and sniffing occasionally with a mildly confused look on his face and apparently that was cause for concern. And whatever was cause for concern to this new, infinitely unfazed Rose was obviously very bad indeed.
Rose was disturbed. Oh, the Doctor had his odd moods— they were part of what continually reminded her that he wasn't human— but they never lasted very long. A few hours, tops. But this had started (as far as she could tell) as soon as she came into the console room after having a rather lovely artificial-night's sleep and a shower. Mickey, naturally, wasn't there, as he had yet to get used to the schedule Rose had carefully cultivated (Get up, run for your life, have tea, run again, laugh hysterically a few times, nearly crash the TARDIS by doing what the Doctor had carefully instructed her to do, have the Doctor get upset at her for it, watch the Doctor do the same thing a few minutes later, laugh at him, run again, repeat until exhausted, pass out, hopefully in the general direction of your bed, repeat from beginning). But anyway, she'd got up, had a shower, gone into the console room and instantly seen the Doctor in Mood 82 (pacing around and occasionally sniffing with a vacant and confused look). She'd dismissed it, at the time, but they'd already gone through about 24 hours of almost constant saving of planets, she was beginning to wear out and Mickey was perilously close to falling over, and he was still firmly stuck in Mood 82. And this was strange.
She watched him as he circled the console, absently flicking switches and tapping random things which Rose now understood actually controlled the lights in several closets on the other side of the ship, with that distracted look which meant that he really wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. She went over the buttons that would cause catastrophic damage to him, herself, the ship or the space/time continuum, and was a little relieved to realise that they were on the opposite side of the console. The TARDIS informed her that she had several unimportant circuits near those buttons and if he got too close she would be happy to blow them up. Reassured, Rose slouched in the chair a little more, pulled a tube of lip gloss out of her pocket, and opened it.
Instantly the Doctor whipped around, Mood 82 gone to be replaced with Mood 16 (delight at possible discovery). Rose paused, the applicator a centimetre away from her lips, and stared at him. That was weird. That was weird even for him. And this was the man who once blew up a completely harmless building in order to avoid eating a pear.
His eyes narrowed, first at the little, fuzzy, lip-gloss-coated applicator, and then at her mouth, suspicion radiating almost tangibly from him as he slipped into Mood 23 (intense concentration as the pieces of a puzzle begin to make sense). With inhuman speed he was before her, and then equally rapidly he pulled her hand away from her face and snogged her.
Her diaphragm suddenly forgot how to work. To distract herself from her instinctive "holy crap" reaction, she flitted through her list of unexpected Doctor moods and found that she didn't actually have one for this.
Mickey gawped at them from his place on the other side of the railing, unsure of what else to do. A few days ago the Doctor had left them both behind on some spaceship or other and now he was quite happily snogging Rose senseless. In the presence of Mickey. This was a change that neither he nor, apparently, Rose had expected and he didn't like it. Rose, on the other hand...
Rose's eyes had shut of their own accord and she had begun to erase the last three words of the description for Mood 183 (sudden and unexpected snogging of historical figures) when the events of the last few seconds which had precipitated this change suddenly weren't happening any more.
"HA!" he said triumphantly. She opened her eyes and gaped at him for a moment. Her brain felt odd and she realised, after a moment, that it was because her diaphragm had ceased to know how to work.
Shakily, she inhaled, ignoring Mickey's reaction to the sudden outburst of Mood 183 in favour of attempting to pull herself together.
"...?" was all she managed to say.
"Thought I smelled bananas." He grinned at her as he slipped into Mood 26 (delight at discovery).
Mickey stared at the Doctor for a moment.
"...?" Rose said again before something clicked in her mind. "You've been... pacing and sniffing all day because..." she said slowly.
"Your lip gloss was distracting me, yes," he agreed amicably.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. "Right," she said, and sank backwards into the chair, a little overwhelmed and robbed of all brain power except the ability to remember that banana-flavoured lip gloss apparently brought Mood 183 on in her general direction.
The Doctor grinned innocently at her and licked his lips again to get the last traces of flavour.
It hadn't been all about the lip gloss.
But she didn't have to know that.
Rassilon, I'm bored... -wanders off absently to continue her quest to win every single game on the Doctor Who website- I've only got three to go. :)
Review, wonderful people who love me enough to do so. -slightly pointed look-