Written from the prompt - "I can't make a decent meringue!"
The Doctor was beginning to regret his words as he stared at his handiwork.
He prodded at it softly, and it sort of collapsed into a pool of cream coloured goo.
He frowned at it and sighed, before glancing at the door to check she wasn't coming yet.
He'd only made the suggestion because of the glare she'd given him when she'd walked back in the doors of the TARDIS.
He'd told her not to run out without first him checking where they were, but she'd ignored him and shot back some sort of witty remark which he couldn't hear properly but could get the gist of from her tone of voice.
He'd glanced at the screen on the console, and then laughed at the sight it brought him.
He was still laughing when she'd tromped back into the TARDIS soaking wet and had shot him that glare beneath strands of her red hair.
He'd stopped immediately, trying and failing to put a sombre and sympathetic expression on his face.
Donna had narrowed her eyes before her expression softened, her lip trembling and her eyes turning wide and teary. He'd held out his arms and she'd walked into his hug. He'd grimaced slightly as he felt his suit dampening but didn't remark on it.
Then she'd pulled away, still looking sorry for herself but then her expression changed and she burst out laughing.
She'd doubled over laughing, attempting to get words out between her hysterical chortling.
"You!" she'd managed, hands on her knees.
The Doctor had frowned, utterly lost at her abrupt change of mood.
He'd looked down at his suit and found that it was now dripping with the water it'd collected off of Donna.
He'd glared at her. The full Oncoming Storm glare he usually reserved for the Daleks.
She'd just scoffed and walked out of the console room.
"I'm going to have a shower!" she'd yelled down the hallway.
"And you, you scrawny Time Lord, better have something good to eat when I get back!"
So he'd sighed, defeated, and made his way to the kitchen.
He'd flipped through cookbooks, trying to find something that would fix Donna's mood before she slapped him.
He could make meringues.
The Doctor prodded another meringue, and it too collapsed in on itself, leaving him to clean up the sticky good that spread across the kitchen bench.
He was extremely lucky that she was having a long shower, but after three tries at making meringues, he knew she'd be coming out soon.
He threw away his third batch and began on his fourth, reading and re-reading over the instructions, determined to make them perfectly this time.
It was practically just egg whites and sugar, it couldn't be this difficult, surely?
He was sitting on the kitchen bench with his legs swinging, reading a thick dusty hardback novel when the oven timer had gone off. He jumped up off the bench, set the book down and grabbed oven mitts before making his way over to the oven.
He opened it up and peered inside, hardly daring to look.
He sighed, pulling out the tray of meringues.
Well, it would just have to do, he supposed.
"DOCTOR!" she screeched, making her way into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw the meringues sitting on a plate in the middle of the kitchen table.
"What are those?" she asked, striding over to them.
"Err…meringues…" he'd replied, trying to read her expression so he could decide whether to run or hide behind something.
"Meringues!" she chortled, poking at one of them with her index finger.
She picked it up, frowning at it and brought it up to her mouth.
She looked over it at the Time Lord.
"A meringue?" she asked.
"A meringue," he confirmed.
"A meringue, I see. So why is it…green?"