earlgreytea68: (Christmas)

For [personal profile] postynotemusing 

Rose’s kids are not good at waiting. It is not one of the skills valued by time travelers.

Rose buys them Advent calendars and brings them back to the TARDIS. The kids are utterly perplexed.

“You open one of the little doors each day of December,” she explains.

“But,” Brem says, nose scrunched up with thought, “why not just open them all at once?”

“That’s not the point. It’s for counting down each day to Christmas.”

“But we could just skip ahead to Christmas,” Athena points out quizzically.

“I vote we just open every door now,” Fortuna proposes.

Rose sighs.

earlgreytea68: (Christmas)
Requested by [personal profile] postynotemusing 

Life on the TARDIS meant that whatever they saw anywhere, no matter the planet or galaxy, they had only to ask for it, and it would be accomplished. Such was remodeling on the TARDIS.

The feature was most useful when it came to the kids, who, as teenagers, changed their rooms on a weekly basis. Time Lords, Rose learned, found no need to change their clothes but were dedicated to changing their wall colors and décor at a frenetic pace. Luckily, TARDIS life meant that all Rose had to do was be invited, pleasantly (and frequently), to assorted big reveals.



earlgreytea68: (Christmas)
Requested by postynotemusing

“There’s something wrong with the TARDIS,” the girls said in unison, as Brem frowned at the console.

“Uh-oh,” the Doctor said, because he could feel it, too. “It’s a windstorm.”

“In outer space?” said Rose.

The Doctor shrugged. “It can have its own kind of weather. Doesn’t happen often, but we can’t travel against a headwind like this.”

“So we’re snowed in?” Athena asked, eyes shining.

“No snow, just wind—”

“It’s just like the movies, we’re snowed in, we need to make hot cocoa and tell stories,” Fortuna insisted.

“It’s wind,” the Doctor said.

He found himself making cocoa.



earlgreytea68: (Christmas)
Requested by [personal profile] postynotemusing 

“I’m just saying,” said Rose, as she stripped the children systematically of snow-encrusted clothing, raising her voice to be heard over the chattering of their teeth, “we’ve got a TARDIS, we can go anywhere, it would be nice to use it to avoid blizzards and seek out beaches.”

It had been six blizzard planets in a row. Rose was entitled to be stroppy.

So the next planet the Doctor found them pristine white sand beaches, turquoise waters, and Rose was looking forward to an easier time, no frostbitten fingers, no sodden woolen hats.

And then the kids all got sunburnt.


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