#Clara tried to bake to celebrate but failed

[thetorturedlovergirl]

The fact that The Doctor and Clara share a day proves that they are soulmates.

[unmaskedagain]

Best Birthday Wishes

Quick one shot. I rushed through at work. Nothing special. But I thought this was a decent idea.

           It took less than a year for Lila to make due on her promise to turn the class against her. Most of her former friends would go out of their way to avoid her. Some took the cowards way out and just did nothing; Adrien and Rose. A few went out of their way to bully Marinette in a misguided idea of revenge; mostly Alix, Kim and Alya. The ice-out got even worse when Marinette resigned from being class president and no one (Lila) could managed to manage to do the job as successfully as she did. School field trips were with really bad or just cancelled altogether. School dances sucked. Fundraisers always fell short. No one would speak to Marinette because, as Alya said, if she just stopped being such a brat none of this would’ve happened.

           Marinette shrugged it all off. She had decided if they could buy into Lila’s lies and turn against her so easily, they weren’t worth her time or effort. She made friends in other classes Aurore, Ondine, Claude and Marc quickly became her best friends. Once she did this, and the rest of the school saw she was out of the clutches of her class, the drama club quickly approached her and commissioned her for work for the school play. They were right to do so, as Marinette gave them a great deal, mostly because someone offered to pay her instead of just expecting her to do it. The art club practically got on their knees begging for help with funding their field trip. Comic Book club did the same but Marinette did one better and got them a tour of Marvel studios.

           The funniest request was from the home economics class and cooking/baking club who just wanted a tour of her parents’ bakery. And maybe an internship or two, pretty please. Her mom and dad had been stunned when she asked. However, they were more than happy to lend a hand, and an internship, to the next generation of baker’s.

           The best part was that no one expected her or left her to do the all work herself. The other students, her new friends, made sure that it was clear they were on a team. And if they asked her to make them something, they expected to have to pay for it. This allowed Marinette to have a lot more free time then she thought she’d get.

           So much so that Marinette decided to create a website for custom designs by MDC. Once she spread the words about that, Jagged and Clara requested commission, naming her as the designer. This sparked a slew of celebrities reaching out for their own MDC design; from futball players, a few tv stars, singers, directors, a b-list movie star, were among them. Marinette got to meet them to do the designs.

           Word quickly spread about the lovely young designer who didn’t bat an eye when she met them, and provided better quality then they could ever dream of. That brought in other celebrities. Celebrities who, when they publicists called Marinette, she fainted. She swore her heart stopped.

           When one celebrity asked for a environmental fabric, Marinette was quick to show ones she had already created. It was a synthetic fabric that she created with the help from a local engineer and scientist who’s wedding dress she designed.  It was cheap and easily replicated. The material was a hit; gaining the attention of Prince Ali who was always looking for new go-green projects to fund.

           Marinette learned quickly just how tight-knit her class seemed to be. So close, other students don’t even try befriending them, after seeing many others fail. It was like there was a wall around Bustier’s class and no one could get in. And those inside never even bothered to really look outside it. It was suffocating to think about.

           Marinette ended up joining the fashion club, gamers’ club, and got on the student council. Her popularity at school rose dramatically. Though, her classmates never realized.

           When Marinette’s birthday rolled around, her classmates snickered when they realized that no one would be planning her birthday party. Alya guessed she spend the day with her parents but otherwise alone like she deserved. Alix vocally hoped even her parents forgot what day it was. Kim nodded along because Marinette was mean to Lila, and Lila was… Everything. A few were sad that Marinette would have such a bad birthday.

           Bustier’s class were surprised when they received a text invitation to Marinette’s birthday party. Lila gets an idea and of course gets someone else to instigate it; Alya.

           When Marinette arrives to class, Alya is quick to tell her that they can’t come to her birthday because they already have plans. She makes sure to add that Marinette wasn’t invited.

           Marinette just shrugged, and said, “Okay, just trying to be nice.”

“Little late for that,” Alix snapped.

           The class expects Marinette to announce that she cancelled her party but the news never comes. On the day of her birthday, they all threw a picnic to celebrate their new “Everyday Ladybug” Lila.

           It wasn’t until Monday, did they learned just how bad of a decision that was. The moment they walked into school, it was clear that something was amiss.

“Jagged Stone was there!” A student said excitedly as she showed off the pictures of her phone. Alya tried to sneak a peek but couldn’t get close enough.

“I saw Chrissy Teigan.”

“Clara Nightingale,” Another said as Nino walked by. “I nearly died.”

           A group of girls were giggling with each other. “Stranger things,” One hissed with a red face. “I got pictures with Finn from Stranger things.”

“Screw Stranger Things,” A girl taunted. “I got pics with the Stark sisters.”

“They have real names,” A girl tried to correct.

“Who cares?”

           Nathanial overheard Marc saying something about a party, “Jagged Stone dedicated a song to her. And Clara brought her up on stage.” He wanted to ask his old comic book partner what he was talking about but after Lila convinced him to go solo, Nathanial couldn’t bring himself to.

           Rose heard, “Prince Ali was there. They danced together. It was so sweet,” While walking through a crowded hall. And nearly had a fit trying to figure out who said it.

“Jonas brothers!”

“Gigi Hadid!”

“Selena Gomez!”

“Tony Stark!”

           And the name drops went on and on until the entire class thought they were going crazy. Particularly Lila who was used to being the only ones dropping names.

           When the warning bell rung, Sabrina, surprising was the first to ask the question on everyone’s mind, “Does anyone know what’s going on?”

           Heads shook no. Alya stood up frustrated, on her phone, “No. But I’m going to find out.” Within seconds the determined expression on her face, shifted to surprise, then disbelief, then shocked. And when she looked up, the stunned look was still on her face. “Marinette’s party,” She said slowly as if she couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Everyone’s talking about her party.”

“No way,” Alix sneered as she pulled out her own phone. Others followed suit. Lila had her phone out before anyone could blinked.

           Jaws dropped. Marinette’s birthday was a tag trended of Twitter, Instagram and nearly every social media site. Celebrities who couldn’t make it gave their best wishes to the young designer.

           The pictures were everywhere. Marinette with one celebrity after another. Even Ladybug (Master Fu letting Trixx, Tikki, and the other Kwami giving their regards) wished her a happy birthday.)

           They quickly recognized the faces of other students they knew at the party, some pictured with a celebrity or two, themselves.

“Luka was there,” Juleka whispered.

           Mylene frowned, “He performed without us. Without kitty section.”

“Prince Ali,” Rose whispered. “Marinette danced with Prince Ali.”

           Lila quietly seethed. How could this happen, she wondered. How come she never knew Marinette knew all those celebrities. The worst picture of them all didn’t even include a celebrity just the mountain of presents she got.

Adrien was supposed to be my way in, Lila thought with a frown.

           Alya gasped, “You were there!” She hissed at Chloe. “You don’t even like her.”

“But I was invited,” Chloe smirked, “Of course I was. Dupain-Cheng throws the best parties.” She stated. “Like I’d be stupid enough to miss it. Even Mama went. But that was mostly because Miranda Priesley announced she was going. As did Wilhelmina Slater. It seems anyone and everyone in fashion wanted eyes of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, MDC, the up and coming designer for the stars. Including Gabriel Agreste,” She added with smug look.

           This caused Adrien to frown. He didn’t know his father had been invited. Or that he’d actually gone. Why didn’t Marinette tell him?

           The bell rang just as the bluenette in question walked into class. Only to once again see all eyes on her. She ignored them and went to her seat in the back. Marinette had a great weekend, and so was going to let anyone ruin her good vibe.

“So… Marinette,” Lila purred, in a way that reminded Marinette of the way she said Adrien’s name. “How was your birthday?”

           Marinette eyed her suspiciously, “Good. More people than I thought came.” That was an under-exaggeration if that was possible. She didn’t know exactly how word spread but she blamed Jagger… And Clara… And Audrey Bourguis… Nadja.

“Girl, everyone was there,” Alya said excitedly. “Ladybug was there. I forgot you two knew each other.”

“Yeah,” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I figured.”

           Alya continued on like she never said anything, “I’d have killed to be there. Jagged Stone sang you a song.”

“Well I’ve known him for a few years now,” Marinette said, because, duh. “He’s like my uncle.” Her crazy, wild, decide to do an entire firework show, and nearly get everyone arrested uncle. “I went to his wedding. I design Penny, his wife’s dress. And his tux. And the bridemaids gowns. The tux for Fang,” Freaking Fang.

“Fang?” Ivan asked.

“His pet crocodile,” Marinette answered. “The same pet he’s had for twenty years. Anyone can find article about Fang, if they. Checked. Their. Resources.”

           If Alya noticed the callout, it didn’t phase her as the girl didn’t even blink.

           Nino looked confused, “I thought he had a cat?”

           Lila’s eyes widened.

I thought you had a brain, Marinette nearly snapped. “Turns out a lot people were wrong.”

“Why didn’t you tell us who’d be there?” Adrien asked. “That my dad was invited. I would have gone. He hates parties.” (“He hates fun,” Chloe snorted.)

“Yeah,” Alix huffed. “Do you have any idea how awesome it would’ve been to meet a pro-skater.

“Or a Futball player,” Kim added.

“A director!” Nino went. “Or those actors.”

           Marinette leaned back in her seat. “I didn’t know who all was coming,” She said. “You were invited. I just to invite Everyone I worked with as well. It was a party for a fourteen-year-old girl, I didn’t think they’d come.” At all, what’s so ever. Marinette had just did it to be polite.

“Worked with?” Rose’s mouth opened in awe.

“I designed for them,”  Marinette offered. “But I didn’t think they show.”

“Nearly everyone in school was there,” Nino complained.

“No,” The bluenette was quick to correct. “I invited my friends; the ones I know from gamers club, design club, drama club, backing club, the students council. And I invited you, because I thought it was the polite thing to do.”

           The clear distinction between the two was obvious.

“My friends came,” Marinette said. “Celebrity or otherwise; they all came. They wanted to wish me a happy birthday. Because they care.”

“Some of could’ve had our big breaks.” Alya snapped, anger in her eyes.  “You invited us because you knew we wouldn’t show up!”

           Marinette just stared at her before shaking her head, “I had guessed you wouldn’t,“ She admitted, and then smiled. But you were invited.”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 11

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Saturday (1 week to wedding)

Rose straightened with a groan, grabbing her wine glass and taking a large gulp.  She’d spent most of the day alternating between packing and questioning her life choices, as she prepared to move.  It wasn’t the most exciting way to spend a Saturday, her last as an unmarried woman (or, inevitably, a divorcée), but she had put it off for long enough. 

Tomorrow Malcolm, Mickey, Danny, and Pete would move out anything she wouldn’t need in her final week here; most of her clothing and some knickknacks would be going to Malcolm’s townhouse, while the rest returned to her parents’ house for storage.  Clara and Danny had more than enough in the way of furniture and furnishings, and she’d decided to clear out everything to allow it to truly become their own space, instead of making them feel like guests in what was now, essentially, their own home.

What they would all do in five years was anyone’s guess; so many things could happen between now and then Rose refused to dignify it with any thought – except for when the questions haunted her in the middle of the night.

She took another large swig of wine, unable to bring herself to regret skipping dinner as warmth rushed through her.

A knock on the door made Rose frown, and she hesitated until a second, more forceful bang on the door convinced her to move towards it.  “Who is it?”

“It’s me, open up,” Clara called.

Rose sighed, glancing between the door and her wine glass, finishing it off in one go before opening the door.  “What?”

She realized her mistake too late, as she found her mother, Clara, and several other female friends smiling on the other side, dressed up for a night out.

“No,” Rose said firmly, then spotted the ‘Bride’ sash tucked in the crook of Clara’s elbow.  “Oh, fuck no.”

Clara caught the door before it slammed in her face, wriggling her way inside.  “Oh, fuck yes,” she shook her head, artificial curls bouncing.  “C’mon, it’s your last weekend as a bachelorette, you should live it up!”

“I don’t want to, and I have a lot of packing to do,” Rose whispered, giving her friend a pleading look.  “Don’t make me do this.”

“It’s tradition!”  Clara tried and failed to match her volume, telling Rose that the partying had already begun.  “It’ll be fun.  We’ll go out, have a few drinks, maybe one last one-night stand?”

“I’ve never had a one-night stand, and I don’t intend to start now.  Besides, I’m getting married – to your father – next week,” Rose hissed back, conscious that Clara was the only person in the proposed party to know the truth.  “Stop it.”

“Rose,” her mother said firmly, eyes crossing slightly as she tried to focus, “stop being a wet blanket.  We want to celebrate you finally getting married.  This isn’t for you, it’s for us.  Now, get tarted up and let’s go.  You owe it to us.”

Rose sighed, not convinced but knowing she wasn’t going to win.  Jackie had made everything about this so far a Thing, whining over every choice Rose and Malcolm had made, first and foremost that she wasn’t being included in any of the decision-making.  Malcolm had insisted on footing the bill, letting Rose have whatever she wanted, though she’d insisted they make their choices together.  They’d decided the fairest thing would be leave everyone out of the planning, making all the decisions and arrangements themselves.

I know I should just be grateful she’s still talking to me, but still…

“Fine.”  Scowling, she opened the door wide and stepped back.  “C’mon in, I’ll just go get dressed.”  Not waiting until they entered she stalked off towards her bedroom, cognizant that Clara trailed behind her.  “What?”

Her friend was silent, settling herself on Rose’s bed as Rose opened her closet and started flipping through the dresses still hanging there.  “You know, if you’ve changed your mind, Dad would understand,” Clara said quietly. “He wants you to be happy, and so do I.”

“I made my choice.”  Rose clucked at the options in front of her; what twenty minutes ago she’d deemed too slutty for work were suddenly seeming perfectly tame.  “Really, I’m good.”

“Dad says you’ve been in a shitty mood all week.”

I’m marrying a man I love who doesn’t love me.  I’m scared that I’ve wasted the last five years of my life waiting for someone who will never want me, and that I’m going double or nothing on something that could never be anything.  I’m scared of missing my chance at real love, and happiness, and a family.

“I’m just stressed,” she sighed.  “With moving, then the wedding and the Gala…  There’s a lot going on right now.”  Picking a dress at random she started undoing her jeans; after four years of living together at uni and more than a decade of friendship, she had no issue with changing in front of Clara.

“If you’re sure,” her friend said cautiously.  “For the record, I think Dad’s really excited about having you in the townhouse.  He’s been fussing over everything, insisting it has to be perfect for you.  It’s cute.”

Rose smiled wistfully to herself, backing out of the closet and otherwise ignoring the comment.  “Zip me up?”

Clara rolled off the bed, and by the sound of it, it was a less-than-graceful move.  “Comin’.”  A moment later she zipped her up, and Rose turned for inspection.  “Is that what you want to wear?”

Rolling her eyes, Rose moved towards her bathroom.  “Yes.  Give me five more minutes.”

-

It was almost midnight when the first text came in.

Never been so bored at a club.  Am I getting old?!?!

Malcolm stared down at his mobile in bafflement, double checking that the message had come from Rose.

I thought you were packing tonight? he sent back, before setting it back on the sofa next to him.  The movie playing out on screen faded to the background as he waited for a response, worried- and somewhat concerned he was overreacting.

She can go out if she wants, he reminded himself firmly.  She doesn’t need me fussing over her.

To that end, he picked up the mobile again, hesitating a moment before sending another message.

Forget my last message.  Have a good time.

He hit send and immediately regretted it.  I don’t know how to do this.  A month ago if she’d texted him something like that they’d spent the next hour or so joking back and forth – but that was a month ago, and this was now, a week before their wedding.

Can I tell you a secret? was her response after an agonizing wait, and nothing like what he expected – he had, in fact, given up hope of any reply at all.

Of course.

It took seemingly forever for her to answer, but he daren’t give up – if Rose Tyler wanted to confide in him, not even death itself could stop him from being there for her.  Dramatic, much?

I’m… actually really happy we’re going to be living together.  Officially Clara’s my best friend, and she always will be, but… so are you.  I’m looking forward to spending more time with you out of the office, hanging out.  Watching a movie, dissecting the latest ep of Game of Thrones as it airs, cooking dinner together.

I just think it’ll be nice.

Sitting on his couch, Malcolm stared at his mobile, in equal parts awed, confused, and heartbroken.  Awed, because that was exactly how he felt, confused because how could someone like Rose, so caring and warm and sweet and funny and wonderful want to spend more time with him, and heartbroken because… she doesn’t love me.  That much was clear.  Obviously she cared for him, maybe even loved him, but that didn’t mean she was in love with him.

Eventually his brain rebooted enough to realize that was not a message to leave unanswered, and hurriedly pecked out, I wholeheartedly agree.  Really looking forward to it.

He fell asleep waiting to hear back.

-

Malcolm knocked on the door again, harder this time, and checked his watch.  Rose had strictly instructed him to be there at eight, and he’d been knocking off and on for several minutes – it was only a matter of time before her nosy neighbor rang the police, which was the last thing he needed or wanted.

Is she even here? he was starting to wonder; after not hearing back the previous night he was worried if it was just a hangover, or something more.

His mobile buzzed then, and he pulled it out to see a new message from Rose.  Clicking it open, he was confused to just see the word key.  What?  A moment later he understood, and found the spare key she’d given him years ago, just in case.

He’d never used it before.

Juggling the bag of baked goods and a tray of coffee he let himself in, dumping his backpack by the door and making his way through the flat.  “Rose?” he called quietly, sidestepping the veritable maze of mostly-full boxes.  “I brought coffee.”

A pitiful moan led him to the living room, where he leaned on the back of the couch and looked down to find a mess of blonde hair splayed out.  She was face down in the pillows, half falling off the couch, and he had to fight back a laugh at the adorably pathetic vision she made.  Out of habit his eyes flickered over her, down the back of her tight black dress, only to stop, breathless, at her bum.

Her bare bum.

By the time his heart restarted he realized she was, in fact, wearing a scarlet thong, which was visible because the hem of her dress had ridden up at some point.  His full senses returned then and he spun on his heel, stalking away and resisting the urge to adjust himself in suddenly uncomfortable trousers.  “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Once there he relinquished his death grip on the paper bag and carrier tray, setting breakfast carefully on the countertop.  The more he tried not to think about what he’d just seen the clearer the image was; her soft skin, the delectable curves- Stop perving on her, he told himself firmly, even as he wondered what other skimpy knickers she might have and- heaven help him- might even bring to the townhouse.  BEHAVE.

In an effort to distract himself he looked around the kitchen wildly, spotting a few gift bags down the other end of the island.  Mostly out of desperation he stuck his hand in the bag, closing around something and pulling it out, staring down blankly at it, blood rushing in his ears – and other bits.

“Um…”

His head snapped up in horror to find Rose, now with her dress lying flat on her thighs blimey could that be any shorter? standing in the doorway watching him.

“I can… this is not what it looks like,” he stammered, heart now racing in embarrassment.  “Really.”

Rose licked her lips, giving him a faint smile as she ran her hand through her hair and padded towards him.  “So you’re not standing in my kitchen holding a massive dildo my mates bought me?”  Her voice was raspier than normal, further evidence of her night of drinking, and he had to swallow twice before he could attempt an answer.

“Okay, maybe it is what it looks like.”  Glancing down at it again, he frowned.  “I dunno if I’d say it was massive.”  Then, face flushing further, he gingerly dropped it back into the bag.  “Sorry.”

She just hummed, reaching for one of the cups but hovering her hand just over it.  “Mine?”

“Yeah.”

Lifting it to her mouth she drank greedily, and he watched her throat work as she practically inhaled the coffee.  For fuck’s sake, did you wake up eighteen?  Pull your shit together he reminded himself firmly, pressing against the countertop to alleviate some of the pressure.

It didn’t work.

“Rough night?” he managed, inching down the island towards the as-yet untouched bag.  “Brought you a bear claw.”

“Mhmm, thanks,” she accepted it, ripping off a big bite.  “Yeah, you could say.  I was gonna just stay in and pack but Clara and Mum and a few mates showed up and dragged me out for a hen night.  Didn’t get in until two.”

He just nodded, entirely inappropriate thoughts swirling through his mind.  “Erm, can I ask- why the…”

“Dildo?” she finished helpfully, dragging herself up onto a barstool.  “That was Shireen’s gift.  She thought it might come in handy… just in case.”

“Just in case what?”  He knew the answer before he even finished asking, bristling.  “I’ll have you know, I have no trouble in that department,” he said stiffly, thinking of his current predicament.  “Believe me.”

Her smirk just grew, her eyes coming alive with a twinkle.  “If you say so.”

“I do!”

They stared at each other for a long moment, her look teasing, his indignant, before the reality of the conversation settled around them.

“Uh…”

“I need to go clean the club off me,” Rose stood.  “Thanks for the coffee. Give me ten minutes, then we can get started.”

“Okay.”  He watched her go, studying the way her skirt clung to her hips, before turning a glare on the gift bag.

“That may never happen between us,” Malcolm told it quietly, checking to make sure she was out of earshot, “but if it does, she sure as fuck won’t need you.”

[tenroseforeverandever]

The Perfect Blend Chapter 3

Characters: Tenth Doctor (aka James Noble); Rose Tyler; Clara Oswald; Amy Pond; Jeanne Poisson; Donna Noble; Sylvia Noble; Wilfred Mott; Mickey Smith; Martha Jones; Clyde Langer

Tags: Human AU; fake relationship AU; coffee shop AU; stalkerish!Reinette; hurt/comfort; angst; romance; fluff; Christmas; New Year; New Year’s kiss

Story Summary:

Trying to escape from an predatory ex-girlfriend who will not accept their break-up, James Noble (aka The Doctor) finds himself in a coffee shop where he meets a barista (aka Rose Tyler) who makes him the perfect cup of tea and lends a sympathetic ear to his tale of woe.

Chapter Summary: James and Gramps discuss James’ Christmas announcement; and on New Year’s Eve, Clara and Mickey are concerned that Rose is mooning. 

Chapter Notes: Sorry for the wait. Real life is messing with me, right now. I hope the next chapter won’t take quite as long.

As always, a big hug of thanks to @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, for taking precious time out of their lives to beta my work. As always, all mistakes are mine.

Read also at: AO3; Tsp; FF

THE PERFECT BLEND - CHAPTER 3

CHRISTMAS DAY

James trudged up the darkened hillside at the back of the house, carrying a large flask full of tea in one hand and an old car blanket under the opposite arm. He took a long, clean breath of fresh air, relieved to have been able to slip away and leave the hubbub and bickering behind him. Despite the (rather deceptive, he thought) sense of freedom, he was feeling self-conscious, and he hesitated as he approached the old lean-to at the top of the hill.

“You don’t really have a date for the gala, do you son?” Gramps’ voice emanated from the rickety little shelter. “C’mon out from behind there, James. I know it’s you. I’d know those footsteps anywhere. Yours and Donna’s both.”

James couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face. “I brought some hot tea,” he came around the corner of the lean-to to the familiar sight of Gramps sitting on his tattered, old lawn chair, the box for the new telescope opened before him, “and I thought you might like some help putting your new toy together."

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact both would be very much appreciated.”

James spread the blanket on the ground and knelt on it. He handed the flask to Gramps, pulled the telescope box toward him, and unpacked all the bits in front of him, organizing them and piecing them together.

“I don’t think I’d get through that lot without your help. Thank-you, son.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. You know how I love tinkering with things. And it’s a brilliant evening for stargazing, even if it’s a bit cold. I should have this in working order in no time.” James turned his eyes to the stars and sighed. “It’s always so peaceful up here.”

“Tonight, especially so, I’ll wager.” Gramps took a long sip of tea. “After that bombshell you dropped on that lot.”

James snorted. “Dropped it on myself, if I’m being honest. You were right, I don’t really have a date for the gala. I never planned on taking a date at all. I was just looking forward to meeting with some of my colleagues out of the office and… they’ve asked me to put together a little firework display to bring in the New Year, so I can’t just back out. The Uni wants something spectacular, something special this year. This gala is all about fundraising for the new Medical Sciences wing, after all.”

“Blimey! Pyrotechnics?” Gramps gawped at him. “You’re not creating that yourself, are you? Surely there are all sorts of regulations about that sort of thing.”

“Weeell…” James ran a hand through his hair, “actually, its digital pyrotechnics. I’ve developed a holographic interface to create some 3D fireworks indoors.”  

“I have to admit, I’m a bit relieved to hear that.”

“Oh, there are still plenty of ways for it to go wrong, and if I have to spend the evening fending off her… But don’t worry, it won’t be like the blender… I swear,” he added at the sight of his grandad’s dubious expression. “Besides, I’m collaborating with a bunch of people from Computer Sciences and we’ve already had a few test runs, but I’d like to give it a bit more pizazz. A few tweaks to make it ultra-realistic.

Gramps sighed. “You know the old saying? If it ain’t broke...”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Well, I would never have guessed you knew much about that sort of thing. You’ve never actually studied computer graphics, have you? Never mind something so grand as all that holographic stuff.”

“Nah,” he sniffed a bit boastfully, “but it isn’t really a big leap from the programming I’m doing for my bionics research… Weeell, not that big. Weeell… I’m a quick study.”

“My clever boy! But the question is, if you can’t back out of the gala altogether, what are you going to do about the fireworks currently going off back down there?” He waved an arm in the direction of the house.

James groaned in response. “All the studying in the world won’t help me with that... Oh, here, Gramps, have a look! Your telescope’s ready to go.”

“Oh, blimey, will you take a look at that beauty.” Gramps marvelled at the telescope, rubbing his hands together. “You shouldn’t have spent all that money, though…”

“C’mon… have a look.  There’s Saturn.” James pointed to the sky. “Something easy, first, to get the hang of it. Then the universe is yours to explore.”

They took turns, well into the night, peering through the telescope, sipping hot tea and discussing possible solutions for James’ “French dilemma”, as they’d come to refer to Jeanne.

James reminded himself he had nearly a week before the gala. He was clever and not too bad looking, if he did say so himself, even if he was a “skinny beanpole” by Donna’s assertions. Surely, he wouldn’t have any problem finding a suitable date by New Year’s Eve, someone who would convince Jeanne, once and for all, that he had moved on.

 NEW YEAR’S EVE

The bell jingled above the door, and Rose looked up from where she was clearing a table to greet the latest customer. It was New Year’s Eve and the shop had been busy over the lunch hour as people dropped in to grab a coffee and a bite to eat before heading home to prepare for the evening’s festivities. No matter how busy, she always made a point of trying to welcome everyone with a bright smile whenever she could. It was just good customer service, building loyalty, welcoming her guests. Goodness knew her little shop needed all the help it could get to stave off the competition of the big chain coffeehouses.

But perhaps she’d been trying a little harder than usual over the last week or so, her chest filling with a faint, fluttering hope that, when she looked up at the sound of the bell, it would be to the sight of tousled brown hair and sad, earnest eyes and a request for the best cuppa in London.

But it never was.

And that wisp of hope would fade, drifting away on Rose’s soft sigh, her heart emptying a little more every time.

A wistful smile playing over her lips, she brought the used dishes to the counter. As she passed Clara, who was serving the latest customer, her friend arched her brow at her. Rose ignored the shrewd look and handed the dishes through the passthrough to the young dishwasher who took them from her with an overblown sigh.

“You can go home soon, Clyde. Just do this last load for me, yeah? Then a quick mop of the floor and wipe down those counters, and it’ll be all spic and span, ready for the New Year.”

“You sure, Miss Tyler?”

“Yeah, course. The lunch rush is over. Everyone’s heading home now. I can take care of anything else that comes up.”

“Thanks, Miss Tyler!”

Rose turned back to the service counter where Clara was completing an order of a Peppermint Hot Chocolate with a flourish of whipped cream and candy cane crumbs. She called out the customer’s name, handed them their chocolate, then spun to face Rose. “You’re mooning.”

Rose fixed her with narrowed eyes, shaking her head in a teasing warning. “I am not!” Then, latching on to a perfect way to change the subject, her eyes shot to the clock. “Hey, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”

“Don’t worry. I’m just about to go. The baking’s all set to go for tomorrow.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m not meeting Jenny at the salon for another hour. We’re both going to get our hair and nails done, then we’re going out to bring in the New Year in style.” She winked at Rose.

Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholy. As much as she loved her shop, she sometimes wished she was going out to celebrate, too. But she tried to sound upbeat, for Clara’s sake. “Ooooh, sounds like fun!”

“See, Rose,” Clara offered her perkiest know-it-all smile, “this is one advantage of same-sex relationships. There’s so much extra stuff you can do together. You should seriously consider it. You’re a catch! Better that than mooning after boys.”

(So much for the change of subject…)

“I am not mooning! It’s just a quiet afternoon, yeah. It’s just the letdown after the lunch rush. And, though I know we’ve had this discussion before, I’ll remind you again: I’m not like you. My options remain limited to…” she blew her breath past her lips, and rolled her eyes, “…boys. Such as they are.”

“I suppose… but you have been mooning… for nearly two bloody weeks, ever since that Doctor bloke dropped in.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Shut up!” Rose’s cheeks burned and she forced herself to maintain eye contact with Clara. “I have not.”

“Pu-lease!” Clara chirped over her shoulder as she disappeared into the little staff room. She reappeared a few minutes later, tying the belt of her coat around her waist.

“I’m not mooning,” Rose insisted, failing to hide the slightly petulant tone from her voice.

“Oh, relax,” Clara scoffed gently, as the bell above the door rang again, “I’m just taking the mick.”

“Hey, did someone mention my name?” the familiar voice sounded from the doorway and both girls turned to greet Mickey Smith with wide smiles.

“Only in jest,” Clara quipped.

Mickey stuck out his tongue at her. “See if I ever cover a shift for you again!”

Everyone laughed and Rose piped up, “Oh, you can’t stay away. Not when you get to spend New Year’s Eve with me.”

“You’re right, there, babe.” Mickey gave Rose a soft, friendly peck on the cheek as he walked past her to the staff room. “Although,” he called out through the door, “Martha might have something to say about that.”

Mickey was Rose’s oldest and closest friend. She had known him literally all her life. He was a few years older than her, and they had grown up on Powell Estate together. They’d even dated a few years back but had quickly realized they were destined only to be the best of friends. Being lovers hadn’t worked for them, much to Rose’s mum’s chagrin. Jackie Tyler had chided Rose about getting airs and graces, thinking herself above dating a mechanic. It had taken a firm word from Mickey to get her to listen to reason, although she still lamented from time to time that Rose would end up an old maid.

That had been years ago, and now Mickey was dating a young surgeon, Martha Jones, who worked at the local hospital. They had met when she had brought her car to him to be repaired and had hit it off right away. A year later, he’d asked her to marry him. Rose, who had rapidly befriended Martha, was thrilled for them both.

Mickey often came to Pete’s Coffee Dimension, after work at the garage, to help out and to make sure Rose, Clara, and the other employees had time for a dinner break. He often stayed the evening, chatting, when Martha was working a night shift. Tonight, he was covering Clara’s shift, so she could have the evening off with Jenny. Martha was on call at the hospital and would be dropping by later, if she was free, to ring in the New Year with her fiancé and Rose.

“Right then, I’m off,” Clara announced, “now that you’re here to help hold down the fort, Micks. But I should warn you,” she grinned, gesturing toward Rose with a jab of her thumb, “this one is mooning…”

“Oh, what’s this then? Mooning? You’re going to be a right misery all night, ain’t ya?”

Rose snapped her arms over her chest. “You,” she fixed Clara with a fierce glare, “are going to be late. And for the record,” she turned her glare on Mickey, “I am not mooning! End of story.”

“All right, all right!” he held his hands up defensively. “You’re not mooning. Blimey! Don’t kill me. Not a great way to start the New Year, yeah?”

“’M not gonna kill ya.” Rose drew Mickey in for a hug, then turned to Clara, pulling her in for a hug too. “Happy New Year, you. Thanks for looking out for me, both of you. Now off you go, Clara. Wish Jenny a happy New Year for us, yeah?”

“Definitely! Happy New Year!” Clara cheered, giving Rose and Mickey a last big squeeze and calling through the passthrough to Clyde before heading toward the door. “Give my love to Martha.” She gave a parting wave and backed out onto the street, the bell tinkling behind her.

 The shop remained quiet, a few customers straggling in through the afternoon. Clyde had long since left and Martha had texted to say she would be by shortly. Rose glanced up at the clock: just gone three.

“So, babe,” Mickey fixed Rose with narrowed eyes, “I have to agree with Clara: you’re not quite yourself. Deny it all you like, you are mooning. Not after some bloke, is it?”

Rose groaned.

“It is!”

“Look, I’m just feeling a little, I dunno…” she shrugged, “…not exactly sad, but jus’…”

“Mooning.”

She smiled. “It would just be nice to have someone special to share the holidays with, ya know? To dress up and go out somewhere nice. I love the shop, I mean… it’s my life, my dream. But it would be good to get out once in a while.” She leaned back against the counter and laid her head on Mickey’s shoulder, as he wrapped a comforting arm around her.

“You’ll find someone.”

“Yeah, maybe. No one as good as you, though.”

“You kidding me? I was a rubbish boyfriend… at least to you. I hope I’m doin’ okay with Mar.”

“She thinks you’re bloody wonderful. But us,” she nudged him with an elbow, “we were just never good together like that. To me, you’ve always been a lovely friend, a big brother, yeah. Always there when I need you. But sometimes, I just feel like I want someone to be a bit more than a friend. I’m just afraid…”

“That you’ll end up with another–”

“Yeah, Jimmy Stone…”

Mickey growled, “If I ever get my hands on that tosser… how he treated you…”

“Enough,” she shoved him a little, knocking him off balance, “you’ll scare away all the customers, looking all aggressive-like.”

“Like there are so many of those…”

She frowned at him, unimpressed.

“Fine…” He grudgingly relaxed, and Rose snuggled against him again. After a few quiet moments, he spoke again, “So tell me about this bloke?”

“What bloke?”

“The one that you’re mooning over. You can’t lie to me, babe, I know there’s someone…”

“Not really…”

“C’mon! Give.”

“There’s nothing to tell you. I hardly know him. It was just… a feeling… he seemed sweet. That’s all. But I’ve only ever seen him the once.”

“And…”

Rose shrugged. “He was nice, but waaaay out of my league. Working on his third Ph.D.”

“An older man! Shit, Rose!”

“No, no! He looks like he’s only a couple of years older than me,” Rose giggled. “I don’t think he’s even thirty. He’s just really clever. Says he’s a genius. Like I said, out of my league. Not that it matters. He’s only come in the once.”

“Wait a minute! This isn’t that… erm… what was it… Doctor-bloke who went gaga over your cup of tea, was it?”

Rose flushed, biting her thumb.

“It him, isn’t it? Clara told me about him. Said you thought he was a bit fit.”

“It was none of Clara’s business! Nothing happened. I don’t even know his proper name and he doesn’t know mine. So, it don’t matter, yeah.”

“Well, he’s an idiot if he didn’t bother to come back and get it, that’s all I can say. Not worth all the mooning.”

Rose opened her mouth to say something more, but at that moment the bell jingling heralded another customer entering the shop.

 About an hour later, Mickey huffed to himself as he wiped down the tables. Martha had arrived a little while ago, given him a quick peck on the cheek, and then she and Rose had disappeared into the kitchen ostensibly to get a start on a thorough New Year’s cleaning… but Mickey knew what really was going on was a good old gossip. Either way, it left him as the front man, taking care of the customers who occasionally wandered into the shop.

The bell chimed above the door. Mickey gave the table he was tending to one last wipe and looked up to greet the man who burst into the shop on a cold blast of wintery air from the street. “’Lo,” Mickey said, “Happy New Year, mate! What can I get you? Something to go?”

The man looked frantic. Even his hair looked frantic. He dragged a hand through it, making it stand up even more on end. “No… erm… no thanks. For here, please. I think I’d like to stay here for a bit.” He loosened the black bow tie at his neck, leaving the ends to dangle, and unfastened the top button of his shirt. “Blimey, that’s a bit better. Always feel trapped in a tux… unluckiest suit in the world. Never liked ‘em… Nothing good ever came from wearing a tux.” This time, he ran both hands through his hair.

“Yeah, mate, I get it. I don’t like a monkey suit much either. Look, take a seat and I’ll bring you a menu, but to be honest, you look like you need something a bit stronger than a posh coffee.”

Mickey left to grab a menu from the stand at the front of the service counter and returned to the man, who had seated himself at a table by the window. His legs were jittering with nervous energy. He took the menu from Mickey and glanced over it with glazed eyes.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he looked up from the menu. “Just putting off the inevitable. My life is over after tonight.”

“Mate, you have a brand-new year coming up! New opportunities. How bad can it be, yeah?”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t show up with a date to the Uni Gala… she’ll…” he spat out the word, “she’ll… Fuck! I’m doomed.” He slumped over the table.

“I’m sorry, man. Wish I could help.”

“No,” the man straightened up, “I’m sorry.” He looked down at the menu again. “I’ll have… hmmm… I’ll have… You know what I need… I need a cup of tea. It did wonders the last time I was here.”

“I can do that! Nothing like a good cuppa, yeah? Oh, blimey, my best friend, Rose (she own’s this place!); well, her mum is known for making the best cuppa, and taught Rose everything she knows. But,” Mickey added conspiratorially, “I honestly think Rose makes it even better. But don’t tell her mum I said so… she’d flay me alive.”

“Rose?” The man’s expression relaxed as he muttered the name, a small smile toying with his lips. “Her name is Rose…”

This man was a bit odd, Mickey thought. Not a bad sort, just a bit odd. “Can I get your name for the order then?”

“Oh, right!” He broke out of his daze. “My name, of course. The Doctor.”

“The Doctor…” Mickey repeated slowly. The name was so familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yup! That’s me! Just ‘The Doctor’. It’s easier that way. My real name’s quite common.”

“The Doctor…” Mickey mulled the name around in his mind again, and suddenly all the pieces fell into place. “Wait! You’re the Doctor! The Doctor who was in here a few days before Christmas. You ordered a cup of tea, yeah?”

The Doctor quirked a suspicious left eyebrow at Mickey. “Yeeess… a brilliant cup of tea. What about it?”

“Oh, mate! You said need a date for tonight?” Mickey had never considered himself to be much of a matchmaker. If he was being honest, it would never normally have crossed his mind. He was much more of a live-and-let-live sort of bloke. But this time, it was Rose’s happiness at stake, and when it came to ensuring Rose’s happiness, there were no holds barred.

“Erm… yes… yeah… but, it’s too late. I’m never going to find a date at this time. I told you, I’m doomed.”

“Nah, not tonight, you’re not. Mate, I think I may just have the answer to all of your problems!”