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By the time Liv finally feels awake enough to face the day, Helen’s been up and about long enough that the sheets beside her have gone cold.
Liv groans, and drags herself upright. She loves Helen- she really does- but this is one thing she’ll never understand. Liv’s spent long enough working bizarre shifts as a medtech that getting a lie-in in the morning is a luxury she won’t abandon without very good reason. Helen, on the other hand, seems to enjoy nothing more than clambering out of bed before the rest of the universe wakes up, and settling in with a cup of tea and a good book.
Liv respects that, sure, but there’s no reason why the cup of tea and good book couldn’t be brought out in the evening.
Still. Helen’s kind enough to stay quiet in the mornings- either that, or Liv really does sleep like the dead- and keeps her teasing to a minimum once Liv does finally stumble out of their bedroom, so Liv can’t really complain.
Yawning, she slips out the door and pads silently down the corridor towards the closest of the vaguely-kitchen-like rooms the TARDIS has provided. The floor is wood panelling today, heated through some kind of mechanism Liv can’t quite be bothered identifying, and the walls on each side wouldn’t look out of place in an ostentatious palace. It’s certainly a step up from the cold, sterile metal panelling they had last week, and she runs a hand along the golden inlay in the wall panel with appreciation. It hums beneath her fingertips in reply.
Smiling faintly, Liv approaches the door to the kitchen and peers inside.
Helen is standing by a window that currently looks out over the butterfly room, fingers drumming out a rhythm on the countertop. She looks beautiful, caught in the light of the almost-sun outside with her hair cascading over her shoulders.
‘Hello, you,’ Liv murmurs, as she steps inside.
Helen jumps a little, then smiles, turning towards her. ‘Morning.’
‘Anything interesting?’ she asks, nodding towards the book on the countertop.
‘Not really. It’s, ah-’ she tilts the cover so that Liv can see it- ‘butterfly taxonomy. I was hoping to work out what some of these might be, but none of them seem to match. I’m not entirely sure they’re Earth butterflies at all, to be honest.’
‘Who knows, maybe there’s a bunch of species endemic to the TARDIS itself,’ Liv suggests. ‘Goodness knows this place is big enough to support them.’
‘That’s a thought,’ Helen mutters, gaze flickering back to the miniature world outside. There’s a small crowd of blue butterflies lining up on the windowsill, impossibly delicate wings that Liv would be terrified to touch out of fear they’d be crushed. They are beautiful, though, elaborate works of art given a home where they aren’t in any danger of being hurt because of it.
After a moment, Helen shakes her head slightly to clear it, and returns her attention to the kitchen. ‘Are you hungry? I made biscuits.’
‘I wasn’t until you said that.’
Helen laughs and pulls a plate over. ‘Don’t eat all of them. I’ll put the kettle on.’
She picks one up, tossing it between her fingers because of the heat. ‘I love you. You know that, right?’
‘Why, Liv, if I’d known this was as easy as baking biscuits-’
‘Oh, come on, you know that’s not what I meant.’
Helen throws her a grin, then busies herself with the kettle. Liv crams the biscuit into her mouth, ignoring the fact that it’s still cooling. It’s wonderful, just as she’d expected- Helen really is a fantastic baker, one with an uncanny ability to puzzle over the frankly bizarre sets of ingredients which appear in the TARDIS cupboards and turn them into something not only edible but delicious. Liv’s never been that brave, and mostly sticks to the food machine. Easier to program and far less chance of suddenly receiving something that’s poisonous to all humans born before the 43rd Century.
‘Do we have anything happening today?’ she asks once she’s finished chewing the first biscuit and grabbed for a second.
‘The Doctor’s still messing around with the main console, so I don’t think we’ll be travelling,’ Helen replies. ‘I was thinking of spending some time in the butterfly room, but if you’ve got a better idea…’
‘No, butterfly room sounds good to me.’ Liv gives her a wry grin. ‘It’s a bit silly, isn’t it? We’ve spent so much time travelling, and we still haven’t even scratched the surface of this place.’
‘I found a wardrobe full of pink coats this morning,’ Helen offers. ‘I’m a bit worried that exploring will just be an endless labyrinth of those sorts of rooms, you know? Just… eternal corridors full of the most random things.’
‘Could still be fun,’ Liv replies. ‘Butterfly room first, though. We know there’s cool stuff in there.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Helen agrees, pouring water into two teacups. ‘Breakfast first, then an adventure which hopefully doesn’t leave us running for our lives.’
‘Don’t jinx it,’ she mutters, but grins and takes the cup anyway.