Doctor Oneshots

Playing Dressup

The Doctor looked up from the console to find himself alone. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Rose? Rose, where'd you go?" He strolled down the hallway, peeking into open doors and occasionally calling her name as he went. He passed the library, and the game room, and the photography lab, and the kitchen, all with no sign of her. He even checked the bedroom hall, but she wasn't in her little pink room.

Finally, he checked the wardrobe, and heard someone giggling from an upper floor. A grin cracked across his face, and he ran up the stairs to see what was so funny. He stopped just before he reached the top, and crouched so he could see her while staying hidden behind the railing.

Rose was twirling in front of a mirror, surrounded by piles upon piles of random clothing. Dresses from Elizabethan English royal designs, official purple robes from a planet of gold people, warrior's garb from a race of Amazonians, fifty-first century silver jumpsuits, fancy gowns from her own time and planet, wedding dresses from the 1940s, all splayed out on tables and chairs she'd apparently gathered together and arranged around the room. She was laughing gleefully at the long, flowing appropriately rose-colored ball gown from Venice, on Earth, about 1740 he'd say, that she was wearing. She had found the matching shoes and fan and everything. She was beautiful.

The Doctor had been so busy staring at her with a goofy grin on his face, that he hadn't noticed that she'd seen him, and was now standing, hands on hips, glaring at him amusedly. "See something you like?" He jumped, rubbing his neck sheepishly as he entered the room properly. "Oh, I-you um-this-uh...you left. I wondered where you'd got to..." he muttered embarrassedly. She laughed. "I got bored standing in the control room while you were tinkerin'. I didn't think you'd mind, and I haven't really gotten to explore this place yet..." "You look beautiful," he blurted before he could stop himself. She blushed, looking down and fiddling with a line of beading on the bodice. "'S just a nice dress." "But it looks beautiful on you," he ventured nervously. Then he had an idea. "Hold on, wait here." And he ran off, down the stairs and through the racks, until he found the one he was looking for. He grabbed an outfit and dashed off to a changing room to put it on.

A few minutes later, he wound his way back to Rose, excitement and more nerves flooding his system. He stopped at the base of the stairs, took a deep breath, and began to saunter up them. "Rose..." She turned around, and gasped.

The Doctor was wearing a blue silk jacket trimmed with gold, overtop of a darker blue and gold vest with shining blue-swirled buttons. His pants were chocolate brown, and only reached to his knees. His white socks met the end of them, and covered everything between his knees and his brown leather shoes with small gold buckles. He had a dark red scarf around his neck, tucked neatly like an ascot into the top of his shirt, which was light brown with red trim, barely visibly beneath the vest and jacket.

He spun, grinning. "Well? Not bad for a nine hundred year old alien, yeah?" She laughed. The Doctor held out his hand. "C'mon. I wanna show you something." She took it excitedly, and they raced together back to the console room, Rose's dress flying out around her, making the running awkward but fun. He typed in some coordinates, mentally begged the TARDIS to get it right just this once, and pulled the lever. They jerked about for a moment before coming to a standstill. "Here we are then!" he shouted, grabbing her hand again and pulling her toward the doors. She giggled, trying to keep up, but it was difficult with this getup. "Where are we?" He just laughed and flung open the doors, pulling her out. He cheered himself quietly and thanked the TARDIS.

"Venice, 1745! A party in some old aristocrat's house!" He looked over at Rose, his hearts swelling to see her looking around in happy awe. "It's beautiful!" He pulled her farther out, onto the ballroom floor, and stood, facing her. Slowly, he bent into a bow, and looked up at her. "Lady Rose, may a poor traveler beg a dance with her Grace?" She blushed, and smiled, taking the hand he offered her. "Of course, Sir Doctor. I'd be delighted." He stood, and pulled her into his arms, where, he decided quietly, she belonged. They began whirling around the room, her following his lead. It was like something out of a fairytale. They danced for hours and hours, stopping occasionally for a glass of champagne or to talk with other guests.

Finally, both of them began to grow tired. Rose's feet were killing her in her heels, and the Doctor's vest was beginning to feel very tight and warm. They retreated into the TARDIS, still laughing and humming along to the pleasant dancing music as he took off again. They shrugged off the offending shoes and vest, and collapsed together on the floor of the console room, which despite being just metal grating, felt like the most comfortable place in the universe just then. Rose looked over at the Last of the Time Lords, who currently looked like a sleepy puppy, all sprawled out and grinning and yawning.

"Y'know, I don't think I've been this tired in a long time. And what with all the running and monster-fighting we do, that is quite the statement." He looked over and met her gaze. "What'd you think?" She rolled over so she was lying beside him with her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her instictively. "I think it was amazing. And I think we should do it again sometime." He grinned down at her, and kissed the top of her head happily. "I agree completely."

They lay there for a long time. Eventually, Rose fell asleep on top of him, and he didn't have the hearts to wake her. He just stroked her hair, staring at the ceiling and smiling contentedly. He chuckled to himself, and said quietly, "Not a bad date, Doctor. 1740s Venice, dancing into the night in period costume. Not a bad date at all."

"I agree completely." He jumped, chargined. Rose laughed, and snuggled him a little closer.