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Title: Rude and Not Ginger
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katherine_b
Rating: G
Summary: The Doctor is speaking without thinking again.
Word Count: approx 550 words
Characters: Ten and Donna
A/N: Written forwendymr who bid on me for the September 2009 Support Stacie Auction. Her prompt was "The Doctor insults Donna's mother (in conversation with Donna). How does Donna respond?" I’m so sorry this has taken such a long time! I must have missed it on my list, and I’ve been struggling to tame the plot bunny…
The Doctor suddenly grins, and Donna looks at him like he’s mad. It’s the first time he’s smiled since they got back to the TARDIS after leaving Jenny behind on Messaline, and she can’t help being relieved, but she’s also curious as to what prompted it.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing.” He hurriedly wipes the smile off his face and stares into his tea as if it could explain the mysteries of the Universe to him.
“Doctor!” Her tone carries a clear warning and she points her last piece of doughnut at him. “What is it?”
“We-ell,” he tugs on his ear, “I was thinking of your mother and how she got your granddad out of the car.”
“She scared you,” she taunts him. “You’re afraid of my mother! The great and mighty Lord of Time, scared of my Mum!”
“Donna, she was coming at me with the sharp end of an axe!” he exclaims indignantly. “Of course I was scared! You would have been, too!”
“Rubbish,” she says bracingly. “You're just a coward.”
“I am not!” he protests. “I’m sure she’s not at all scary when she isn’t wielding weaponry. It's just that she was then! When she's defenseless, I'm sure she's absolutely lovely!”
“Hah, that’s all you know,” she tells him decidedly. “So come on then, what was it that made you grin like a lunatic?”
“Oh, I was just thinking that it was appropriate she has an axe for her weapon of choice,” he says airily.
Donna sips her tea as she arches an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with it?” she asks at last, when it’s clear the Doctor isn’t about to explain without prompting.
“Well,” he offers, “she is a bit of a battleaxe herself, isn’t she?”
She feels colour flood her face. “She’s what?” she splutters.
“An old battleaxe,” he says rather more quietly, perhaps realising that she isn't about to agree with him. “That is – I mean – oh, don’t look like that, Donna! I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” she tells him, not unhappy to have the chance to quote one of her favourite movies of all time, which she’s forced to watch the Doctor to watch with her at least once.
“Thank you, Madame Montoya,” the Doctor shoots back with a grin. “Prepare to die.”
“Not before I tell you what a battleaxe is,” she retorts.
He pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs his legs, his expression expectant.
“You think it’s, what, a nasty woman?” she offers, and he nods.
“Someone a bit hard to deal with,” he replies. “Surly sometimes. Opinionated. Very opinionated in fact!”
“I’m so telling her you called her that,” Donna mocks him. “But there’s another meaning you clearly aren’t aware of.”
“Apparently so, if the colour of your cheeks when I first said it was anything to go by,” he agrees. “So come on then, don’t spare me. What is it?”
“It’s,” she hesitates,” her cheeks flaming again, “well, something like a slapper.”
He chokes on the mouthful of tea he’s just drunk, avoiding spraying it everywhere only by a miracle.
“No…” he chokes out in a feeble voice.
She nods, unable to help smirking a little.
He doesn’t say another word for a full half-hour.
Donna enjoys the peace and quiet.
Author:
katherine_b Rating: G
Summary: The Doctor is speaking without thinking again.
Word Count: approx 550 words
Characters: Ten and Donna
A/N: Written for
wendymr who bid on me for the September 2009 Support Stacie Auction. Her prompt was "The Doctor insults Donna's mother (in conversation with Donna). How does Donna respond?" I’m so sorry this has taken such a long time! I must have missed it on my list, and I’ve been struggling to tame the plot bunny… The Doctor suddenly grins, and Donna looks at him like he’s mad. It’s the first time he’s smiled since they got back to the TARDIS after leaving Jenny behind on Messaline, and she can’t help being relieved, but she’s also curious as to what prompted it.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing.” He hurriedly wipes the smile off his face and stares into his tea as if it could explain the mysteries of the Universe to him.
“Doctor!” Her tone carries a clear warning and she points her last piece of doughnut at him. “What is it?”
“We-ell,” he tugs on his ear, “I was thinking of your mother and how she got your granddad out of the car.”
“She scared you,” she taunts him. “You’re afraid of my mother! The great and mighty Lord of Time, scared of my Mum!”
“Donna, she was coming at me with the sharp end of an axe!” he exclaims indignantly. “Of course I was scared! You would have been, too!”
“Rubbish,” she says bracingly. “You're just a coward.”
“I am not!” he protests. “I’m sure she’s not at all scary when she isn’t wielding weaponry. It's just that she was then! When she's defenseless, I'm sure she's absolutely lovely!”
“Hah, that’s all you know,” she tells him decidedly. “So come on then, what was it that made you grin like a lunatic?”
“Oh, I was just thinking that it was appropriate she has an axe for her weapon of choice,” he says airily.
Donna sips her tea as she arches an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with it?” she asks at last, when it’s clear the Doctor isn’t about to explain without prompting.
“Well,” he offers, “she is a bit of a battleaxe herself, isn’t she?”
She feels colour flood her face. “She’s what?” she splutters.
“An old battleaxe,” he says rather more quietly, perhaps realising that she isn't about to agree with him. “That is – I mean – oh, don’t look like that, Donna! I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” she tells him, not unhappy to have the chance to quote one of her favourite movies of all time, which she’s forced to watch the Doctor to watch with her at least once.
“Thank you, Madame Montoya,” the Doctor shoots back with a grin. “Prepare to die.”
“Not before I tell you what a battleaxe is,” she retorts.
He pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs his legs, his expression expectant.
“You think it’s, what, a nasty woman?” she offers, and he nods.
“Someone a bit hard to deal with,” he replies. “Surly sometimes. Opinionated. Very opinionated in fact!”
“I’m so telling her you called her that,” Donna mocks him. “But there’s another meaning you clearly aren’t aware of.”
“Apparently so, if the colour of your cheeks when I first said it was anything to go by,” he agrees. “So come on then, don’t spare me. What is it?”
“It’s,” she hesitates,” her cheeks flaming again, “well, something like a slapper.”
He chokes on the mouthful of tea he’s just drunk, avoiding spraying it everywhere only by a miracle.
“No…” he chokes out in a feeble voice.
She nods, unable to help smirking a little.
He doesn’t say another word for a full half-hour.
Donna enjoys the peace and quiet.
silly
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