A short sequel to "The White Jafruschti" - written today during my break at college.
Rating: PG - alcoholism, fluff!
Disclaimer: Everything except the Omgas belong to the beautiful BBC and fantastic Russell T.Davies.
*JEALOUS*
Song lyrics from "Don't sit under the apple tree"- Glenn Miller
The Aftermath of the Emerald Bird
"Don't sit under the apple tree..." His northern accent boomed through the streets in a noticeably less-than-harmonious tone, soon accompanied by a slightly sweeter, southern trill; the pair of them obviously not sober.
"...With anyone else but MEEEEEEEEEE!"
"YOU!"
"ME!"
*THUD*
A large, Roman-esque nose colided with a solid panel of blue-painted wood, prompting a loud, pained cry from the Doctor, as asymphony of clattering dustbin lids signalled his companion's own misfortune; both incidents indirectly self-inflicted, so one could hardly feel any pity towardseither fo them.
"Rose! My nose! Rose!" The Doctor cried, desperately clinging onto his face as if it was about to drop off.
"What about your nose?!" Drunken, and clearly irritated by the presence of a three-toed Omga that had begun to lick her cheek, somehow mistaking the blonde, human girl for a bag of refuse.
The small, cycloptic cat-like creature continued to run it's tongue across her face, then occasionally through it's mass of bio-illuminescent fur.
Scrambling to reach her feet, Rose suddenly became aware of the tall, leather-clad figure standing infront of her, tremblingin his inhebriated state. The light from the two moons overhead illuminated his face in apale-blue light, complimenting the eyes that remained still in their set place among his other sharper, more prominant features, which remained, as of yet, in shadow.
Amidst the washof blue that tinted his pallis complexion, there was a presence of crimson around his left nostril.
She'd never seen him bleed before...
"Doctor..." She gasped in shock, unable to tear her eyes away from the red trickle around his nose.
He looked at her and frowned, wobbling and having to support himself against the wall of the alley so that he didn't follow suit and tumble like his companion.
"I told you! It's..."
"RED!"
"What?!"
"It's red!"
The Doctor wiped his nose on the back of his hand, glancing down at the reflection of the moonlight in the liquid he was leaking.
"Well, what did you expect?" He asked, his voice a little more certain as his Gallifreyan metabolism kicked-in to counteract the effects of theirWhite Jafruschtis.
"I...it's red!"
"It was last time I looked." He groaned slightly, scraping his back against the wall as he slid over to help Rose out of the way of the Omga; cold, bloodied hands reaching out to hers, outstretched and in the air, begging for assistance.
"Up you get!" He smiled gently as her head lolled momentarily, her eyes squinting as she fought to regain her composure.
She couldn't help but remain focused on his nose.
"Yes, I know it's big, but that's no reason to stare...I -"
He was cut short by a mass of cotton and polyester that began to stroke his wounded facial-appendage.
"Oi! Careful with that, I -MFFFFNUMFFNUMFFNUMF!"
The sleeve of Rose's jumperwas rammed into his mouth, causing th alarmed Time Lord to splutter against the sluffy fibres of the fabric.
His piercing, blue eyes widened to a size and shape even he'd havethought impossible- the colour ofhis eyes, reminiscnet of the two moons with danced overhead.
Stifling his objections, he stared down at Rose, a slight fear in his hearts as she reached out to touch his nose again, only this time with two soft, and surprisingly gentle strokes of her thumb; the Doctor knew from previous experience, that she could be scarily clumsy when under the influence.
Mopping away the warm blood- a complete contrast to the temperature ofhis skin- she gazed up at him for a moment; two circular knots of mahogany, dazzled by a blue, bi-lunar radiance.
The pair of them shuddered, unable to gauge whether it was the cold night-air, or the strange intimacy of that one moment.
For a while, the painful double-beat throbbing of his nose faded, as her soft fingers trailed delicately down from bridge to tip, almost unnoticeably replaced by a pair of tentative lips.
The Doctor blushed profusely, and had it not been for the material in his mouth, he would have undoubtedly had something to say on the matter; yet she prevailed in her quest to silence him...shock him, even.
The most powerful man in the Universe, stripped of his omnipotence fora few, tender minutes, before, and with much remorse, he regurgitated her sleeve, pulling his head up, just out of her reach; instead, her head settled upon his chest, listening to his samba.
"Rose...you're drunk." He declared softly, as if she hadn't yet realised. The miniscule friction of her head rubbing against his jumper told him that she'd acknowledged this fact.
With a subdued sigh, he wrapped his long arms around his Rose, drawing her into a comforting hug, before elevating her off the floor and into his safe grasp.
"Come on, you...home." He muttered quietly against the top of her head, where he discreetly let his lips remain for a little too long, pursing into a warm kiss.
"Doctor..." Rose mumbled sleepily, thoughit was impossible for her to continue as the Time Lord himself interjected, answering her unfinished question.
"Yes, it's red."