The road less travelled...

Title: Turning of the Seasons 1/1
Author: katherine_b
Rating: G
Summary: The Doctor and Donna want to know each other’s favourite things. Julie Andrews is not involved.
Word Count: 445. (And yes, apparently this is my brain’s idea of a drabble. *rolls eyes*)
Characters: Ten and Donna
A/N: Written for juliet316, who bid more than $50 at my thread for the Support Stacie Auction and so gets a drabble from me. Her prompt was Ten and Donna, the rejuvenation of spring.

“Green,” Donna announces.

“Why green?” the Doctor asks curiously.

“Because I look good in it,” she says with a grin. “Do you know how hard it is to find clothes that don’t clash horribly with my hair?”

The Doctor scratches his ear. “Would it surprise you,” he admits, “if I don’t usually think about things like that?”

Donna snickers. “Now what on Earth makes you think that I might believe that of you?” she teases. “Just because you only ever wear one of two things.”

“I change my shoes!” he protests indignantly.

“And I thank God for that every time you take them off,” she retorts crushingly. “Can I ask you your favourite colour yet?”

“Nope.” He grins at her. “Not until I get a better reason for you liking green so much. I know you’ve got some fanciful, romantic reason hidden in the depths of your soul and I want to hear it.”

“Since when can you do sarcasm?” she demands in evident astonishment.

“I was being serious!”

“I’m not romantic,” she snorts indignantly.

“De Nile is a river in Africa,” he shoots back, knowing he’s onto something.

“I’m not!”

“Oh, come on, Donna,” he says, a hint of a whine in his voice. “Tell me!”

“Jeez, if it’ll shut you up, all right,” she groans almost defensively. “I like it because it reminds me of spring, all right? All fresh and crisp and new.”

“What’s so bad about admitting that?” he asks, unable to help feeling curious.

She mumbles an answer and he arches a questioning eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“Some people… think things like that are silly,” she admits at last, her cheeks scarlet.

“Some people – like your mother,” he guesses.

“And Lance,” she adds, as if that somehow makes the ridiculous suggestion all right.

“What does your grandfather think?” he asks, bringing in the big guns.

“He likes it,” she confesses. “And my Dad did, too.”

“There you go then,” he says, unable to help the smug tone in his voice. “What did I tell you?”

“You can tell me your favourite colour,” she says, clearly and deliberately change the subject. “Come on then, Spaceman, let’s hear the worst.”

“Red,” he says immediately. “All different shades of red. Auburn and ginger and scarlet. Lovely!”

“Mmm.” Her eyes travel up and down him, fixing on his shoes, which happen to be his red chucks today. “And why?” she asks, curiosity evident in her tones.

“Er, because it reminds me of – autumn?” he replies, picking an answer out of the air and thankful when it makes sense.

Because he really doesn’t want to admit how jealous he is of her hair.