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promethia_tenkThree RIDICULOUS HAPPY FLUFFY CHRISTMAS DRABBLES set in the Leadworth AU. BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT, OK? And because everybody else is posting happy fluffy Christmas drabbles, and I wanted to be included. No previous knowledge of the Leadworth AU necessary (Amy wakes up after Big Bang 2 and discovers that Eleven and River are her parents--domestic fluff ensues).
Probably I shall write more of these as the spirit hits me.
“Doctor Song? Is this meant to look like that?”
“Rory? Is that you?” River emerged backwards out of a box of decorations. “Probably not, no . . . . What are we talking about?”
“Well . . . you should see for yourself.”
“Oh . . . oh. I’ve never seen a poinsettia do that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
“I wonder if it’s dangerous . . . .” She snuck a hand out to test.
“Wha---? Don’t touch it!” Rory looked appalled.
“Well, if I wind up in hospital, maybe he’ll learn a lesson about experimental gardening.”
“Do you think so?”
Amy’s mother sighed. “One can only hope.”
---------------
Rory furrowed his nose at the recipe book: “Amy?”
“Rory.”
“Didn’t we make these pies last year?”
“I dunno. Maybe.”
“They were terrible.”
“Were they? I don’t remember. They sound good, though.”
“We couldn’t find half of the ingredients.”
“See, look--they have little star cut-outs on top!”
“You substituted tinned peas for raisins.”
“I'm sure they taste the same once you soak them in brandy.”
“I ended up scrubbing heavy syrup off the begonia.”
“Oh yeah . . . Mum talks about that all the time. She says thanks, by the way.”
“Tell me why you want to repeat that experience.”
“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure? I’ll bet you this year we’ll be missing an entirely different set of ingredients. Look--there’s the raisins right there!”
“. . .”
Amy glared for a long beat before giving up in a huff: “Fine! I promise I’ll clean the house plants myself this time.”
“Thank you.”
---------------
Instead of the expected comeback, River found herself embraced from behind, a slightly muffled voice nuzzled into her shoulder: “Are you done teasing me yet? May I have your permission to admire you un-mocked?”
She laughed but stopped herself quickly. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She plucked up one of his hands to kiss his fingers consolingly. “Go right ahead. Thank you for putting up with me.”
A kiss at the base of her jaw: “I’ll forgive you if you’ll let me put tinsel in your hair.”
“What? Do you know how impossible it is to get that out?!? It took me three--” Another kiss. “Oh, alright.”
Probably I shall write more of these as the spirit hits me.
“Doctor Song? Is this meant to look like that?”
“Rory? Is that you?” River emerged backwards out of a box of decorations. “Probably not, no . . . . What are we talking about?”
“Well . . . you should see for yourself.”
“Oh . . . oh. I’ve never seen a poinsettia do that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
“I wonder if it’s dangerous . . . .” She snuck a hand out to test.
“Wha---? Don’t touch it!” Rory looked appalled.
“Well, if I wind up in hospital, maybe he’ll learn a lesson about experimental gardening.”
“Do you think so?”
Amy’s mother sighed. “One can only hope.”
---------------
Rory furrowed his nose at the recipe book: “Amy?”
“Rory.”
“Didn’t we make these pies last year?”
“I dunno. Maybe.”
“They were terrible.”
“Were they? I don’t remember. They sound good, though.”
“We couldn’t find half of the ingredients.”
“See, look--they have little star cut-outs on top!”
“You substituted tinned peas for raisins.”
“I'm sure they taste the same once you soak them in brandy.”
“I ended up scrubbing heavy syrup off the begonia.”
“Oh yeah . . . Mum talks about that all the time. She says thanks, by the way.”
“Tell me why you want to repeat that experience.”
“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure? I’ll bet you this year we’ll be missing an entirely different set of ingredients. Look--there’s the raisins right there!”
“. . .”
Amy glared for a long beat before giving up in a huff: “Fine! I promise I’ll clean the house plants myself this time.”
“Thank you.”
---------------
Instead of the expected comeback, River found herself embraced from behind, a slightly muffled voice nuzzled into her shoulder: “Are you done teasing me yet? May I have your permission to admire you un-mocked?”
She laughed but stopped herself quickly. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She plucked up one of his hands to kiss his fingers consolingly. “Go right ahead. Thank you for putting up with me.”
A kiss at the base of her jaw: “I’ll forgive you if you’ll let me put tinsel in your hair.”
“What? Do you know how impossible it is to get that out?!? It took me three--” Another kiss. “Oh, alright.”
