Chocolate Sunday

The 10th Doctor and Rose are looking down at something they found in an alien market.

They are looking down at something. And the whole one shot is about them looking at it and only at the end does it get identified.

CHOCOLATE SUNDAY

"…so… Doctor…" Rose murmurs, her white teeth like pearls brushing Scoville pink lips as she stares, "… does it have a name?"

The Tenth Doctor turns on her, an animal with a purpose, quick to pounce and ever so sure of the wrong color socks in the morning because he simply can't figure out which pair he wants to wear to impress her with, forgetting routinely that the most impressive thing about him as far as she is concerned is the color of his bright chocolate eyes when he's saving someone… and the way his tight bum sits just so in those trousers, beneath that brown suit with the mint pinstripes- her favorite.

She's enamored of those chocolate eyes of his, he reasons, reaching up to scruff his hair again. It's the fifteenth time he's done it to-day; he has a weakness for her smile. And he's grown accustomed. To her face, he means.

"Of course it has a name! Why wouldn't it have a name? A name is a name, like a rose only with, um… little candy hearts and… um… those little lacy things, and the yummy tin foil I always liked to suck the chocolate from after I'd eaten the kiss. Um, did you like those? As a kid? Those things? I always…"

She laughs suggestively, putting a touch of the divine into her smirk-y little chuckle as she dips in to steal his lips, with her hands on his tie.

"Eat the kiss, why dontcha?" she breathes, tugging harder, both their gazes momentarily lost in each other instead of the thing on the small, bentwood stand, "… I don't much care about yer socks, Doctor…"

"How are you doing that, Rose? I thought something was amiss!" the Doctor quirks, the frown of his lips like a quivering worm, his brown eyes rounding like moon-saucers, "…is that the tag you're hiding behind your back?"

With a grin Rose twists back and forth, dodging his hands; her yellow hoodie with the happy lines of rainbow on the back swings its cowl madly.

The Doctor's white Converse twitch in place as she bends up to peck at his cheek like a little bird.

"I don't think so, Doctor! You don't get that yet; focus!"

As she watches, his scruffy hair churns in stiff peaks of rich chocolate mousse and sexy spider legs above him, transforming him and all his glorious romantic indignance into a cocoa rooster.

"Do you think you'll get a bit of gorgonzola with that whine?" she murmurs, pretending to pout again. Her fingers play along the tag in her hands as she toys with hiding it behind her back some more... but finally she lets him grab it, his long fingers wrapping around the paper as if he held an artist's brush.

He lifts the tag to his squinting puppy eyes, fumbling The Brainy Specs from those never-ending pockets.

"You're the Gorgon, Rose, you tag-stealing meanie! And what's it say… ah… um…"

"It says it's a telepathic chocolate bunny that instantly bonds with… the person who bought it," Rose says, brushing him and his hair back into chaotic order with a licked finger and a smile as she raises the edible rabbit with her free hand, "…I was thinking Harold. You're my special Christmas log, after all, aren't you Doctor?"

He stares, then smiles… at Harold.

"Of course we can't eat him now, you had to go and name him! Ah, well, perhaps it's for the best. I do love Sundays… wait. Did you say I'm your Christmas log? Like those candy things with frosting and such? Mmm." He looks down again at the chocolate rabbit, wistfully rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thinks about what he's going to say next. He knows, of course, that she would find the rabbit, that she would buy it. He planned it all.

"Hey Bouncy Castle…" he murmurs in her ear, nipping at her sensibilities like a prowling pet dog, "… would you be my valentine? I brought the chocolate, AND the whine!"

"Cheeky," she says, smacking his bum as lovely-smelling Harold looks on from his perch on her left shoulder, "… but you're the whole box. Now let's find Harold some friends, eh? Then later we can buy some chocolate that isn't sentient. How about those Peeping Chicks over there? They're giant, and marshmallow… and chick-shaped! They're adorable!"

The Doctor smiles and takes Harold's cage in hand; Rose's hand joins him there, and they both carry Harold off toward the marshmallow chicken ride, basking in the simple lie, as if they are the only two to ever own the candy store.