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Title: Distractions
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katherine_b
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200, so a double drabble
Prompt Word: White
Notes/Warning: Written for the thirteenth Weekly Drabble Challenge with the prompt 'white'
The Doctor stops in the act of cleaning his teeth, the hand holding the toothbrush half-hanging out of his mouth, as the shower screen slides open and a pink foot appears, followed rapidly by the curve of Donna's calf.
He's never been able to understand why the TARDIS decided to hide the other bathrooms, but he was very grateful that Donna suggested he share her en suite rather than him having to propose the idea.
He's not keen on a slap.
He can't help the way his eyes slide up her thigh, not even noticing that the mirror he's looking into isn't steamed up.
Donna turns in his direction and his eyes snap up guilty to her face. She grins and picks up a brush, turning to the other mirror as she runs the bristles through her glorious ginger hair. His eyes slide down to where the curves of those incredibly distracting breasts are covered by the fluffy white towel that also preserves the rest of her modesty. He can't help noticing that the way she's holding the towel pushes them slightly more forward than usual.
Swallowing hard, he resumes cleaning his teeth as the mirror fogs up.
Author:
katherine_b Rating: PG
Word Count: 200, so a double drabble
Prompt Word: White
Notes/Warning: Written for the thirteenth Weekly Drabble Challenge with the prompt 'white'
The Doctor stops in the act of cleaning his teeth, the hand holding the toothbrush half-hanging out of his mouth, as the shower screen slides open and a pink foot appears, followed rapidly by the curve of Donna's calf.
He's never been able to understand why the TARDIS decided to hide the other bathrooms, but he was very grateful that Donna suggested he share her en suite rather than him having to propose the idea.
He's not keen on a slap.
He can't help the way his eyes slide up her thigh, not even noticing that the mirror he's looking into isn't steamed up.
Donna turns in his direction and his eyes snap up guilty to her face. She grins and picks up a brush, turning to the other mirror as she runs the bristles through her glorious ginger hair. His eyes slide down to where the curves of those incredibly distracting breasts are covered by the fluffy white towel that also preserves the rest of her modesty. He can't help noticing that the way she's holding the towel pushes them slightly more forward than usual.
Swallowing hard, he resumes cleaning his teeth as the mirror fogs up.
pleased