Fic: Breakfast Foods
Jan. 31st, 2008 08:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iliaTitle: Breakfast Foods
Author: Lady Yueh
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Prompt: Croissant
Author’s Notes: Perfectly timed for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dominique012's birthday. Happy Birthday! Here's something pleasant for you to read.
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The Doctor scrutinized his companion with the same concentration he saved for TARDIS repairs.
Or rather, he was fixated on what she held in her grasp.
“Doctor?”
“Hmm?”
“Doctor!”
“Yes? Martha, what is it?” He finally tore his sight away from her slender hands (and what they held) to meet her questioning gaze.
“Is there something wrong?” she questioned with concerned, curiosity
“Nononono! Wrong? Why would there be something wrong? No wrongness here,” he trilled quickly.
Martha, accustomed to his moods and his babbling simply arched a delicate eyebrow. “Right,” she drawled slowly in that tone that said she definitely didn’t believe him.
His gaze returned to its previous object of study.
Layered, golden perfection. Warm and buttery and so light on the tongue. Filled with sweet almond paste or dark, enticing chocolate. Maybe stuffed with hot, salty ham and melting cheese. No, the perfect combination would have to be jam, sweet and sticky, filling every fluffy nook and cranny with its sugary goodness…
“Doctor, you’re drooling,” Martha’s amused voice informed him.
“I am not!” he denied hotly while “subtly” wiping at his lip.
“You know,” she began with a slight edge of sarcasm, “There are more croissants in the oven.”
Author: Lady Yueh
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Prompt: Croissant
Author’s Notes: Perfectly timed for
dominique012's birthday. Happy Birthday! Here's something pleasant for you to read. ---------
The Doctor scrutinized his companion with the same concentration he saved for TARDIS repairs.
Or rather, he was fixated on what she held in her grasp.
“Doctor?”
“Hmm?”
“Doctor!”
“Yes? Martha, what is it?” He finally tore his sight away from her slender hands (and what they held) to meet her questioning gaze.
“Is there something wrong?” she questioned with concerned, curiosity
“Nononono! Wrong? Why would there be something wrong? No wrongness here,” he trilled quickly.
Martha, accustomed to his moods and his babbling simply arched a delicate eyebrow. “Right,” she drawled slowly in that tone that said she definitely didn’t believe him.
His gaze returned to its previous object of study.
Layered, golden perfection. Warm and buttery and so light on the tongue. Filled with sweet almond paste or dark, enticing chocolate. Maybe stuffed with hot, salty ham and melting cheese. No, the perfect combination would have to be jam, sweet and sticky, filling every fluffy nook and cranny with its sugary goodness…
“Doctor, you’re drooling,” Martha’s amused voice informed him.
“I am not!” he denied hotly while “subtly” wiping at his lip.
“You know,” she began with a slight edge of sarcasm, “There are more croissants in the oven.”
