"Your children are getting cheekier and cheekier as the the days go by." The Doctor plopped down on a chair.
Rose Tyler raised a brow. "My children? I'll have you know they're half yours."
"Well, technically speaking, they're about fifty-four-point-eight mine, thanks to the prevalent Gallifreyan genes. No, cheekiness is decidedly a human trait," he protested. Looking at the dark, perfectly shaped brow rise hire, he quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with those human genes at all." He held his breath.
Rose's expression finally cracked as she could no longer hold her laughter. "Oh, Doctor, if you think that you haven't had your cheeky moments, you have another thing coming."
"Me?" he asked innocently, standing up to join her on the small sofa, his long legs over her thighs.
She giggled, rolling her eyes. "So, what were our children up to today? And where are they, anyway?"
"Lily is on the swing, working on momentum and time-feeling. Jack's somewhere about, probably the library." He rummaged about the inside of his jacket. "As for what they were up to..."
Taking the two notebooks he handed her, she opened one and shuffled through to the end. Rose saw the circular writing before they shimmered to 'proper English' or as close as to English as one could translate Gallifreyan. The TARDIS thought she always did a brilliant job, thank you very much, and Rose appreciated it, caressing the nearby wall.
"Mr and Mrs Dursley of Number Four Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in something strange or mysterious because they couldn't find the stick lost in their arse." As Rose read from the twelve-year-old's notebook, she raised both brows this time. "Lily wrote this?"
The Doctor was sheepish. "Actually, that was Jack. He took Lily's notebook and wrote that."
Taking a closer look at the writing, she noticed where the old girl tried to show the differences in writing style. "Well," she said, "at least he wrote it in past tense, right? It's harder to write in one tense in Gallifreyan, isn't it?"
A grin burst through. He knew there was a reason he loved this fantastic woman so much. This was just one of many reasons. "It is."
After flipping through Jack's notebook and seeing his essay on dinosaurs of the past, present, and future, she hummed. "Doesn't mean he's not getting dishes for a week for foul language. He can help the old girl a bit." Gently pushing the Doctor's legs off her, she stood up and stretched before extending his hand to him to help him up. "Come on, let's go tell your son the trouble he's in."
"My son? I'll have you know they're half yours."
"Well, technically they're forty-five-point-fifty-two mine." She grinned, tongue poking out.
"See! Cheek!" He swatted her bottom playfully.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
They continued to bicker as they made their way through the corridors and to the library.
The TARDIS hummed in amusement. Poor seven-year-old boy had actually tried the equivalent of 'bum', not 'arse', but somehow she didn't think it would help his case any, so she kept quiet, content at the beautiful family that lived with her.
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