Disclaimer: Doctor Who is not mine and it never will be. Well, at least I do not think it will, but my birthday is in 20 days, so who knows :)
A/N: Written for the 2012 Autumn Fixathon on Livejournal for the prompts:
Ten tries to make Rose breakfast. He means well, but it's a complete disaster.
Rose was sleeping peacefully in her room, completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby. After all, why would she be afraid? She was sleeping next to the most feared man in the universe. The same man, who rambled, loved bananas too much and got too excited about Harry Potter. The same man, who was currently starring in a dream about a perfect life of travelling through time and space forever.
Suddenly, the sound of an explosion tore her from this pleasant dream. She unconsciously reached for the Doctor, but found nothing but air. She yelled his name, but no-one replied and as she jumped to her feet panic started to rise in her. What if something had happened to the Doctor? What if he was hurt? She opened the door and ran towards the smell of smoke. What if he was going to regenerate again? These thoughts made her run faster and faster, until she finally saw him. He was coughing wildly, exiting the kitchen.
"Doctor!" she yelled. He turned to face her, looking both terrified and embarrassed at first, but when he saw the look on her face, it turned to confusion. She skidded to a halt in front of him, grabbing his shoulders tightly and taking in the sight of him: His hair was sticking up in every direction, his eyes were a little red from the smoke, but other than that he looked completely fine. "Oh, I thought something terrible had happened to you!" she said and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Well, something terrible did happen," he said. "I might have, that is to say I have... it was a complete accident of course, but I blew up the kitchen."
Rose pulled away. "You blew up the kitchen?"
"Yep. Not on purpose though. I just wanted to... well," he blushed slightly. "I just wanted to cook breakfast for you, but I must have done something wrong."
"Really? Doctor, your name is the Oncoming Storm, not the Oncoming Cook."
"The Lonely Chef," he grinned at her.
"Well, you will be the Lonely Chef if you keep blowing up the kitchen. I don't think the TARDIS will stand for that." Rose went over and opened the door to the former kitchen. "Oh, you weren't exaggerating. Why were you trying to cook breakfast for me?"
"I thought that's what boyfriends do," the Doctor said without thinking. Oh, no, did he just say that aloud?
"What did you say?" She had to be imagining things. There was no way the Doctor had just called himself her boyfriend. Nope, absolutely not.
"I said, isn't that what best friends do?" he said. She sent him a look, which clearly said, he was not fooling her. "All right, I did say boyfriend, but I don't know why. I'm complete rubbish at being in relationship, and it is not every day I admit I'm rubbish at something. The hugging, the handholding, the kissing and cuddling and cooking breakfast, which did not turn out that great, it just takes some time getting used to. And, no offence, but I honestly don't want to be your boyfriend." At the look on Rose's face he continued, "Oh, I mean, I hate the words boyfriend, it's too..." he was just about to say human, but stopped himself. He did not need to get into more trouble, "common. And I believe what we have is uncommon, and-"
He paused as Rose leaned in and kissed him softly, cupping his cheek. "Doctor, we have all the time in the world to get used to this and I'll be more than happy to be your plus one for as long as you want."
"I like that." The Doctor smiled at her. "My beautiful plus one. It's much better than being a boyfriend." He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, though it quickly turned more passionate. When they broke apart, their eyes were sparkling with happiness. "Now, how about you get properly dressed, and I'll take you out for breakfast somewhere nice and cosy."
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Rose asked.
"Well, isn't that what plus ones do?"
"Yeah, it is, but I just want you to know, that I don't do sex until the fourth date."
"Do you want to bet?" The Doctor grinned at her. "I bet you five quid you'll break."
"Now, Doctor, that'd be an abuse of my knowledge of my stubbornness and willpower."
"You're on." They both laughed and ran towards their room to get ready the bright and happy future ahead of them, while the TARDIS began fixing the broken kitchen.