betweenthewaves: (billie piper)
[personal profile] betweenthewaves
title: Adventures In Writing (or, Why One Shouldn't Interrupt Novelists, Ever.)
author: [livejournal.com profile] odakota_rose (who else? it's just me on this journal)
fandom: Doctor Who
pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
rating: g
genre: crackish!fluff
a/n: I'm in NaNoWriMo this year, and a plot bunny bit me with this when I should've been working on my novel. :D


When Rose asks him, almost absentmindedly, what month and day it technically is for her, he thinks nothing of saying, after a moment of frankly brilliant calculations, "2 November, why?"

Apparently that means something, because she gets a surprised look on her face and hurries off wordlessly, trailing a hand along the wall of one of the hallways of the TARDIS.

"Rose?" He calls after her, but she's already gone, and there was nothing to say she was distressed or upset before she left, so he ponders it for a moment longer, then returns to the trans-temporal switch he was adjusting.

~

A few hours later, the room is still quiet save for the sounds of his tinkering, and finally the TARDIS makes a generally displeased sort of noise. He ignores it once, and then a large spark singes his thumb.

"Oi! No need to get like that!" He frowns, sticking the thumb in his mouth for a second and then declaring it uninjured. Mentally, that is, because Time Lords don't say such things to their thumbs out loud.

Backing away from the switch he'd been working on, he decides on finally looking for Rose, except that...
Rose is nowhere to be found, and every time he tries the third door on the left down the fifth hallway beyond the wardrobe and down the green flight of stairs stairs, he keeps finding himself in the kitchen. Which wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem if a) Rose were there, or b) they had bananas.

"Come on then, where's she gone off to?" he murmurs softly, though if the TARDIS knows she's certainly not being helpful about it.

~

Still hours later it occurs to him to perhaps be concerned. Rose is definitely on board, the TARDIS has assured him of that, it simply seems that she doesn't want company at the moment. Which is definitely not brilliant at all.

When the TARDIS finally lets up and leads the Doctor to Rose, he finds her sitting in a cozy room that he's fairly certain hasn't been used in at least a regeneration or two. The room is small, with a fireplace and a large easy chair in which Rose sits, seemingly quite busy with her... typing?

On the table next to her sit several empty cups, save for a few drops of tea at the bottom of them, a plate full of crumbs next to a mostly full teacup, and a small stack of scribbled notes.

"Rose, there you are!" He thinks he might've sounded just the slightest bit too elated at finding her, then dismisses the notion.

She glances up just briefly to smile at him. "Doctor. We off somewhere?"

"No, no... just drifting through the vortex and- Rose, what are you doing?" Honestly, he was planning on easing the question in there, perhaps more tactfully than that, but his curiosity had taken over. And tact is overrated, anyway.

It takes a few seconds for her to answer, and a simple answer at that, given during a pause in which she simultaneously stretches and wiggles her fingers, then takes a sip of tea and adjusts the afghan she is currently draped in, all without jostling the small computer in her lap.
"NaNoWriMo, I'm just a bit behind." After saying this, her attention returns to the laptop and she starts typing again.

"Nano...? NaNoWriMo..." He stops, thinking for another few seconds, and then grins excitedly. "Oh of course! National Novel Writing Month, that's brilliant. Fifty thousands words in a month, it's absolutely mad. Wonderful way to spend a November, mind you. In twenty years the man who started it is going to be an international bestseller, in forty that'll be interplanetary."

Rose can't help but smile a little at his obvious love for the whole thing, "Well I got a late start this year..."
Technically, that part is his fault, but she's not worried about it much.

He scratches the back of his neck for a moment, thinking about something which he finally states, albeit slightly hesitantly.
"Rose, you do realize that technically it's not November? Time machine."

"Doesn't matter, it is for me." She somehow looks both stubborn and oddly adorable as she keeps writing, ignoring him apparently, and the pesky strand of hair that's slipped across her face.

He starts to say something else, and she interrupts him before he can get it out.
"Doctor, I've gotta keep working, I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

He finally takes the cue, and walks to the door. Unfortunately for him, the Doctor can't help but add, "But Rose, it's still not really November..."
He also just barely dodges the throw pillow that she, well, throws at him with surprisingly good aim for a person in a chair with a laptop.

The Doctor then starts to get the idea that perhaps she really doesn't want Novel Writing Time to be Together Time, and toys around with the idea of starting his own novel for a few seconds, though it might not be one hundred percent fair to the non-Time Lord participants. That idea then gets discarded in favor of participating in the Great December NaNoWriMo Novel Re-Read, which won't become a proper event until 2130, but- time machine. If she can write a novel then he can certainly read one. Besides, it is technically December as well (somewhere, anyways.)

They somehow manage to avoid running for their lives for nearly the entire month.

Except for that one unfortunate episode with the Exlibricus that was living in the library for some reason and wanted to reincarnate as Agatha Christie. And they've sworn to never speak of the incident again, so.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a month.
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