Food made with good intentions = just as good as being made with love.

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Food made with good intentions = just as good as being made with love.

Who: Rose Tyler, Rassilon, eventually the Ninth Doctor (and Claudia)
Where: Fifth Floor/ Fifth Floor Common Room
When: Midmorning, just a little before lunchtime in the dining hall.
Warnings: Silliness? Flood shenanigans?

The fact that Rose Tyler was conscious, out of her pajamas, bathed and coherent before noon was a small miracle in itself. Even more of one when a person realized she'd been up and about for hours and had, with the Doctor's reluctant help, been cooking. For her Inmate. In the hopes of drawing him out to have a civil conversation with her, in person. Of course, there were some things missing -- herbs and spices that hadn't been accounted for, that had to be substituted for non-Gallifreyan fare. But in the end it smelled good enough that she was a little sad she couldn't have some herself.

In fact, after setting a little table in the common room (thank God they lived on the same floor), she could still smell it when she reached Rassilon's door. With a little breath for courage (and just to reflect on the first thing she'd made in a kitchen in months that wasn't hideous -- even her biscuits more resembled dirt clumps, regardless of how good they tasted), she finally knocked, then stood back to wait for him to appear.

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Rassilon opened the door, somewhat irritated at being interrupted. When he saw who it was, he stilled, feeling a mix of horror, embarrassment and... joy. Miss Rose Tyler. His Warden. The naive, stupid, insolent little human girl... for whom he seemed to have developed some... affection. And feeling affection for an alien - a human no less, who were already worse for being associated with the Doctor - was very disturbing indeed, especially since he was sure he had hated her just yesterday. Well. It was nice to see her. In a way.

"Miss Tyler." His greeting sounded a little less confident than he had wanted it to, but... wait. That smell. Was that...? Had the girl gotten his tafelshrew? In just one day? After that useless Arthur hadn't managed in weeks? Perhaps she was useful. And perhaps... No. No no no. An alien, a human, he didn't actually...

Well, at least he had his food now. That was one good thing, wasn't it?

"Good morning," she said, sounding more confident, herself, than she probably was. "I figured we got off on the wrong foot yesterday," she explained. Which -- wasn't necessarily true? It seemed the conversation was going to be sour no matter what was said or done. Odd to sound apologetic over that. "So this ain't exactly about me helping you as much as a peace offering...sort of? Made something for you." She cocked her head in the direction of the common room, her usual impulse (to take his hand) held back by the subtle warnings the Doctor had given her earlier about other Time Lords not being so hot about touching. "This way."

Edited 2011-02-16 19:33 (UTC)

"...Good morning to you as well, Miss Tyler," he said, not sure what he thought about her apology. And tempted to say something terribly embarrassing, because... Ugh, why did he suddenly like her so much? He despised Rose. Loathed her. Yes, that was it. He definitely didn't like her; and even if he did, which he most certainly didn't, it wouldn't be in that way. Absolutely not.

That didn't stop him from nodding and following her though, because her words all but proved that she had made him tafelshrew. Or, well, had someone make it, but there wasn't that much of a difference between the two, right?

They came into the common room where she'd set up a simple little brunch. The Tafelshrew, one place setting. Tea. Overall she thought it felt warm and cozy, but she had no idea whether that would appeal to a Time Lord that wasn't the Doctor or not. "Hope you're hungry," she breathed. Or this was going to be one Hell of a misfire. "Tafelshrew a la Barge. Spent all morning on it."

He gasped. All morning. That had to mean she... No! Even if she liked him, he certainly didn't like her back. He wasn't like the Doctor, mingling with humans, aliens. Tafelshrew would not win him over -

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Said with an almost friendly smile on his face.

Just what was wrong with him today?

He eyed the tafelshrew, before sitting down and starting to eat, in a desperate attempt to behave normal.

Rose tried not to beam, but she was honestly so excited that he seemed interested enough to sit down and try it, that surely she hadn't mucked it up at all. Good that she had help, and she'd have to thank the Doctor later -- he'd known who he was making it for, and it didn't do much for his mood at all. But when he actually thanked her, she was all smiles -- in fact she reached up for a second to cover her mouth because she didn't want to react too much.

She'd finally done something right by an Inmate. She was getting somewhere.

Oh. Oh. After all this time... Well, it didn't taste quite like he remembered it, but considering how long it had been... And who cared? It was superb. And Miss Tyler herself had made it, had put so much energy into it, and he did notice that she seemed happy and oh.

"It's very good, m - " no, wait, he couldn't call her 'my dear', how would that look and he certainly wouldn't indulge this sudden fancy " - Miss Tyler."

"Thank you," half a nervous laugh in there. It was a lot coming from him -- she honestly expected him to hate it on principle. She sat down on one of the chairs, a comfortable distance away as she didn't want to seem as though she was intruding. Or that she was watching him eat like some sort of nutter. "Wasn't quite certain I'd manage it; the only recipe I had on hand was incomplete."

He was almost disappointed that she distanced herself. Perhaps the tafelshrew meant nothing - but why would she spent so much time on it then - and anyway, why should he care? But it really did taste good, which was rather obvious considering his expression.

"It's fine. And did you ask Omega for a recipe? He can cook."

"I really ought to have asked him," she admitted. Leaving out the part where she asked the Doctor to help her and that he'd pointedly told her to ask Omega instead before finally relenting. But she hadn't lied. She really should have, considering what mood the Doctor was in over it.

He nodded. "Omega cooks very well. I'm sure he could have helped." Something crossed his mind. "I can have more, yes? Not today, but later? I promised Omega to have dinner with him." How odd. He had been so excited about Miss Tyler being with him that he had almost forgotten about that. And that after he had wanted it so much! This stupid affection was becoming terribly distracting.

Rose looked a little surprised. "I didn't realize I might be upsetting plans you'd already made," she admitted. "I... suppose that depends on how hard it is for me to get the ingredients again."

He frowned. "Can't you ask the Admiral? Omega could get a - " stun-only staser "... Zero Room for me."

Rose was beginning to wonder, fleetingly, if every time he asked for something it was going to turn into a comparison between her and Omega. God, it was like a kid whose parents had split up. "He's a good friend to you," she admitted. Honestly, she saw no trouble in asking for such a thing but she realized she probably should include some conditions. "It's something I want to give some thought before I make any promises. I don't know if favors is the sort of thing you can run out of, when it comes to the Admiral."

"I see." He took another bite and chewed slowly, still frowning. "It would be very foolish of him though. What if I were to need special food because of a sickness or allergy?" Why did this Admiral have to be so incredibly annoying? He didn't appreciate it, not at all.

"Then come Hell or high water I'd get ya what was needed," she responded, without missing a beat. "But that's not the case. As it is -- and I don't want you to take this wrong, but I don't want to do this for you and find out later you're taking advantage."

"I would never!" Yes, he would. But not of her! Wait. Of course of her. Especially of her. It's what he would normally do, so why does he dislike the idea so? Foolish, irritating, inexplicable feelings only got in the way.

"It would seem wiser if there were some give and take. At least then when I went to the Admiral I'd have a reason to ask for a regular supply, instead of just asking over and over again." She crossed her arms a little uncomfortably, more troubled that she sort of believed him when he said he wouldn't do that. But she'd been warned that he was a manipulator. "Then no one can say you've got the wool pulled over my eyes for a few special perks, and likewise no one can suggest I'm giving you special privileges -- and other Inmates will; some aren't happy if they're not stirring it. Just a fair agreement between two reasonable people."

He took a deep breath. While not quite content with that arrangement, he could see where she was coming from - the people on this ship seemed like they would be offended by another getting the food he liked, primitive, savage fools as they were. "I see. What kind of agreement would you like to make, Miss Tyler?" He looked at her strangely for a moment, before blinking and immediately turning back to his tafelshrew. Affection, he decided, was not quite appropriate anymore.

It almost bothered her, that look, because she wasn't certain what it was. Really, she was just worried about sounding like she had an ulterior motive. She was his Warden; she sort of did, but she wasn't out to hurt or take advantage of him. She shook her head. "Tell you what: If you'd like to have it with Omega later this week, it would be my pleasure to cook for you again if that's what you want. No arrangement necessary; just take it as my being happy that we're not arguing. But after that -- if you decide it's something you want regular-like, then we'll talk and come to an agreement. Sound fair?"

Once he had figured out that the odd behavior of his inmate was not her normal amount of odd behavior, a quick check to the network confirmed his suspicions. There was a flood going on. Something to do with admiration, obsession, or love. A little creepy on his part, since his inmate had... Been extra clingy, had that extra bit of adoration in her eyes, and, well, didn't want him out of her sight or not to have physical contact. Not at all. Claudia was Claudia, but it wasn't right.

As soon as the facts hit him, he realized that it couldn't be just Claudia that was affected. His concerns quickly flickered to the meal that Rose and Rassilon were having at this very moment. His concerns were.. Strong. To say the least.

So, with a Claudia attached to his arm and hand, he took her to the fifth floor common room, and strolled in with (so ma-cho) swagger, a wild look of concern in his eyes. This was the last place he wanted to be. He'd be happy never having to see Rassilon again.

"It's a flood," he announced loudly, in a very serious mood, his gaze flickering between Rassilon and Rose, before he closed in on them. "Rose. There's a flood." The Doctor then gave Rassilon a look that could only be described as uncomfortable suspicion and condemnation. "What's he done?" He asked Rose, not taking his eyes off of the Lord President. He unconsciously guided Claudia to his side and away from Rassilon with a gentle, firm hand.

Rassilon was just taking another bite when the Doctor barged in. He quickly turned, a disapproving look on his face, to tell the intruder off, before he saw who it was. The Doctor. That Doctor.

When Nine announced the flood, his eyes widened - a flood? But there were no... Oh, this just couldn't be true. That bastard of an Admiral, to do that, changing his mind, forcing feelings like this upon him - !

"I have done nothing, Doctor. Unlike you, I am not interested in mingling with aliens." He said it before he had thought it through, not even trying to deny the flood's effects and already regretted it a moment later, but, well. Nothing to do about it now.

The Doctor's entrance startled Rose, to say the least. It took the second time saying it was a flood for her to really hear it -- largely because she noticed the small child hanging on his arm and watching the current exchange with utter disinterest.

Until Rassilon responded to him. The child's head tilted to the side, regarding him with calculation and obvious intelligence.

Rose shook her head. Before then she had been ready to directly ask what the Doctor meant by flood, but she felt an odd indignation that he'd just assumed she was -- what? In danger? "Why's he got to have done something?" she asked. "What flood?"

Nine narrowed his eyes at Rassilon. He was relieved to see that nothing off had occurred yet, but still. The fact that he was even sitting down and seemingly carrying on a civil conversation with Rose was enough of an oddity on its own.

"Oh really? Then what do you call this?"

Turning his attention to Rose, he gave a significant look to the small vampire attached to him.

"Believe me. There's a flood. Notice anything odd? Different? Is he bein' nice??" Nine looked back at Rassilon, a little calmer than he originally was when he first stormed in the common room like he owned it.

Edited 2011-02-17 00:06 (UTC)

Rassilon growled and stabbed his knife into the tafelshrew. "Oh? You would rather I kill her?" He wants to add 'That can be arranged', but he can't bring himself to.

Stupid flood. When he'd get his hands on the Admiral, that little - ! To warp his mind like this! He should have noticed it, should have known that his initial dislike of Miss Tyler hadn't been caused by a bad mood - what a stupid idea! - that there was something very much wrong when he noticed just how fond he had grown of her, but no! He had to take refuge in denial instead. His hand twitched around the knife, so very tempted to stab it into something that wasn't the tafelshrew.

"Could you be any more insecure? We've just been talking," she insisted. "Why's it have to be a --"

And then she noticed the rather fond look the stone-eyed child gaze fondly up at the Doctor, and cast a slow glance back toward Rassilon before it dawned on her. The look that passed her face wasn't one of embarrassment -- even though she really should have noticed, or checked the network. The irritation she felt over the Doctor, picking fights and everything, had vanished. Instead she looked just...sad. Disappointed.

"Right."

Edited 2011-02-17 21:51 (UTC)

Yeah, that calmness that had started to show over his features quickly went away. The Doctor tensed, his gaze intense and focused on Rassilon. He put on a humorless smile, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

"You wouldn't. Not affected. Nor would you have the chance to with me standin' here. How does it feel?"

Nine just sort of weakly rolled his eyes at Rose when she started to rant at him, but softened when he saw how she was taking all of this. No doubt that she'd thought she was making progress, that they were actually getting along. He didn't know what to say.

"If I wished to, I could," he answered coldly. "But, as surprising as it may be for you, meaningless violence does not interest me and there would be no point in attacking Miss Tyler." He glares at Nine, his expression clearly showing how much he loathed the Doctor.

He glanced aside at Roses' disappointment - he almost felt bad about it, but now that he knew the reason for his feelings, they were easier to ignore.

Rose bit back whatever feelings she had for the moment. If she stayed, even if she chased off the Doctor and stopped them fighting, any conversation they had would have been forced. Perhaps even a conversation he wouldn't want to have. So there was no real point in her staying. "I'm --" what was about to be an announcement that she was leaving, stopped, and she reconsidered, looking now at Rassilon. "I'm so very sorry. I promise I didn't know." Well. That felt a little better at least. "I'm going to go now. Please -- enjoy the rest of your lunch. Perhaps we'll talk when you're --" What? Feeling better? "Yeah." Oh come off it already. "S'cuse me."

And she made for the hallway to return to her room.

"You coulda fooled me." Nine glared back with that special dark look he reserved only for Daleks and specific Time Lords. Yes, one could say that a Time Lord stare-off could literally cause a static charge in the air. Stuff of legends! This was certainly on the more-intense side. When Rose apologized and got herself out of the situation, the Doctor didn't budge from his glare. His feet itched to follow the young blonde, but he couldn't yet.

"Suppose I don't have to say it. We know what we're both capable of." He blinked, finally. Yes, he was sending that if-you-hurt-Rose-I'll- message. His demeanor suddenly broke into a happy go lucky one. He grinned.

"Have a fantastic afternoon!" Nine turned, careful not to trip up Claudia, and started for the door, keeping Rassilon still in the corner of his eye.

Rassilon stared back, unyielding, an icy glint in his eyes. No one out-glared Lord High President Rassilon, especially not the Doctor, that damn fool. His fingers twitched when Rose left - he felt compelled to follow her, comfort her, hold her, but he kept where he was, stubbornly staring the Doctor in the eyes.

"Oh, yes. The conclusion should be obvious." He would destroy the Doctor if the man actually attacked him. His eyes narrowed at the grin. What was it now?

He didn't answer when the Doctor spoke, just watched him and the strange little girl start to leave, before turning back to his tafelshrew and resuming his lunch, making a point of appearing unaffected.

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Food made with good intentions = just as good as being made with love.

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DOING CLAUDIA AND ROSE IN ONE TAG

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