Chapter Text
After a while, it becomes a bit too cold to stand under the fall of ash and Jackie starts grousing. “Everybody upstairs,” she orders the Doctor, Mickey, and Rose. “I’ve got wine and biscuits.”
“Two great tastes that taste great together,” the Doctor mumbles with a sceptical arch of his left brow, making Rose burst out laughing.
“You comin’ up?” she asks hopefully.
“Erm… I don’t know,” he hedges, looking back at the TARDIS. He doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Rose, but all of time and space are out there, just waiting for him, and he’s not seen it with these new eyes.
“Too domestic?” Rose shoots back, arching her eyebrow in an unspoken challenge.
Oh, that did it! He huffs a laugh, sniffing and straightening his tie. “I can do domestic. Lead the way, Rose Tyler.”
The four of them mount the stairs to the flat, Mickey glaring at the Doctor all the way up. The Doctor follows Rose’s example and ignores him.
Once in the flat, Jackie bustles into the kitchen, grabbing the wine and four glasses. “Don’t just stand there, ya plum. Help!”
The Doctor points at himself hesitantly. He’s honestly not sure which one of them is the the plum this time.
“Go on!” She waves him into the kitchen. He wanders in, and finds a plate of sugar biscuits and snickerdoodles. Having completed his mission, he leaves the kitchen, only to find his way blocked by Rose and Jackie standing, nattering, just outside the doorway.
Determined to not to be rude (he can’t help the not-ginger, but he supposes, the rudeness is something he could improve on... ) he mumbles, “S’cuse me.” Jackie’s harping so loudly neither she nor Rose hear him.
Just as he’s ready to push past them, Jackie goes quiet, her attention drawn to something above his head. “Oh, look at himself. He’s under the mistletoe! Step aside, I got this one!”
His brain shuts down in panic as Jackie Tyler, eyes glinting with mischief, zeroes in on his lips.
Rose meets his eyes, smirking. She deftly blocks her mother and goes up on tiptoes to kiss the Doctor very briefly. He barely registers the touch of her lips against his, and before he can react, Rose is already walking away, ushering her mother toward the table.
He follows, wondering what the hell just happened.