And of course, the Doctor was looking at her like he was the saddest, most pathetic puppy in the entire world. Its what he did. He was good at it.
Sighing, Rose turned the page of her gardening magazine. “I’m not going in there with you.” He probably wanted her to hold his hand or something equally lame like that. Really. The man had stared down Daleks. He could handle a teeny tiny examination.
The woman in the white scrubs grabbed the Doctor by the arm. “If you’ll just come this way, Mr. Smith…”
The Doctor’s hand wrapped around the door he was half way through. “Ro-ose!”
She shook her head, trying to invest herself in the gardening techniques of the late twenty-first century, even though she knew nothing about hydroponic clivehobbers, which had yet to be invented in her era, nor did she actually know about early twenty-first century gardening, having come from a council estate, where even the house plants were too miserable to grow.
When she didn’t hear the door close behind the Doctor, she glanced up. “Go. Consider this a rite of passage. Eventually, everybody has to go alone, behind the big scary door, to be examined. Alone. Did I mention by themselves? And alone?”
Looking like she’d just cut out one of his hearts, the Doctor looked at her in terror. “But–but twenty-first century dentistry is barbaric!”
Grinning with that special sort of meanness that was derived mainly from having to deal with a Time Lord with four aching teeth for the last three hours, Rose barred her own pearly whites viciously before responding. “Weren’t you telling me how Doc Holliday himself pulled your tooth, without anesthetic? Oh it’s all a badge of pride, until you actually have to get work done.”
The assistant smiled at Rose in sympathy. “Now, Mr. Smith. We’ll have those cracked molars fixed up in no time…” Tucking the chart under her arm, she began tugging more forcefully on the Doctor’s sleeve.
Still feeling fairly superior, Rose waved him off. “That’ll teach you to chew on jaw breakers.”
As the door slammed shut, Rose was sure she heard the Time Lord whimper. Well, she’d at least kept him from microwaving the thing, otherwise they’d be treating him for burns as well.
Flipping the page of her magazine, she tried to figure out why anyone would want Venus Fly Lillies.
Somewhere, in the distance, the Doctor screamed.
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