strong enough [crossover]

v. flattery will only get you so far

trigger warning: brief mention of police brutality/systemic racism

*

When Rose mentions she wants to pop back home, the Doctor chokes on his oatmeal.

They're sitting around the kitchen table — Rose and MJ in their PJs, the Doctor wearing his usual jeans-sweater-leather jacket combo — eating a much more pared-down breakfast than the extravaganza the Doctor had cooked up before their trip to 1869. The Doctor is eating oatmeal with sliced bananas, Rose is enjoying a bowl of cereal, and MJ is having eggs, bacon, and toast with a cup of coffee made just the way she likes it — 98% cream and sugar, 2% coffee. MJ tries not to drink too much coffee, but she slept like absolute shit last night, so she needs something to keep her awake until a socially acceptable time to nap.

"What do you want to do that for?" the Doctor wheezes between coughs to clear his airway. MJ thumps on his back.

"I want to see my mum," Rose says simply. "And I need to grab some stuff. Y'know, clothes, makeup...girl stuff."

The Doctor scowls. "Can't you just take clothes from the wardrobe?"

"There's no underwear in the wardrobe," MJ points out. "Or bras. I'm going to need some stuff too soon unless I want to do laundry every day."

The Doctor throws his head back with a groan. "Fine. We'll go to Rose's, then yours."

Rose grins toothily. "Hey, maybe while we're at my mum's, we can give MJ a proper tour of London. Get her some culture."

"Culture?" MJ wrinkles her nose. "If that means eating mushy peas or beans on toast, I'd rather remain uncultured, please."

"Oi," Rose says with a laugh. "Don't knock it till you try it."

"I've never tried skydiving without a parachute either," MJ says. "Don't have to try it to know I wouldn't like it."

Rose rolls her eyes fondly and steals a piece of bacon off MJ's plate. "Americans. You lot are so stubborn."

"And where do you think we got that from?" MJ retorts. She makes no effort to take the bacon back — when she'd asked earlier if anyone else wanted some, Rose had hesitated before saying no, so MJ made extra pieces. Not that she'll tell Rose that. Food tastes better for some reason when it's stolen.

"Fair enough," Rose says. "Hey, when we go to yours to get stuff, can we go to like a proper American diner? You know, with the milkshakes and the burgers."

MJ's face lights up. "Oh my gods, yes. Ugh, if I could, I'd take you guys to Angela's."

"Who's Angela?" the Doctor asks.

"It's not a who, it's a what," MJ explains. "It's the name of the diner my mom used to work at. The cooks there were so nice, they always made food for my mom to bring home to me and it always tasted so fucking good."

Rose pouts. "Well, why can't we go? Is it closed or somethin'?"

"I...have no idea, actually," MJ says. "But I doubt the same people still work there. It's been over a decade since then."

"What happened to you a decade ago?" Rose asks. "'Coz you keep saying, 'Oh, I haven't had this in almost eleven years' and 'Oh, I haven't been there in over a decade' and whatnot."

MJ shoots her a blank look. "I moved."

That's deeply oversimplifying it, but it's still not technically a lie.

"Oh." Rose deflates slightly. "Kind of thought there'd be more to it than that."

MJ shrugs, leaning back in her seat. "Sorry that my life isn't exciting enough for you."