John Watson does not resemble a hedgehog. (what_son) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-21 01:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, amy pond, john watson |
Who: John Watson and Amy Pond
When: After these texts
Where: DISNEYLAND
What: BFFs hanging out
Rating/Warnings: Low, I’m sure
Status: Complete
After picking up John at the ass crack of dawn, then driving around finding the best crisps and smoothies for breakfast, they headed out to Disneyland. Amy wasn’t quite the household name that she was longing to be, so they might not get stopped today for an autograph. It was a possibility, but not a likelihood.
Anyway, it was early, Amy was still carrying her (now cold from the hour-long drive) coffee as the two headed into the park.
“Damn. I really should have brought more than just my phone.” Amy said, looking up at the Mickey Mouse Head made of flowers just on the other side of the turnstiles.
John had run out of coffee forever ago, and so was unburdened by items to carry and as such, had his hands stuck into the pockets of his jeans. The older man was looking around at everything with vague curiosity; he’d never been before. “Like what?”
“Camera. I’ve got this amazing camera at home. I should have brought it with me.” She reached into her pocket and drew out her smart phone, then turned it toward him, and clicked a picture of him in front of the Mickey Mouse flora at the front of the park.
Probably, his eyebrows were lifted into that amused yet blank expression that he was so well known for. That was what half the photos taken of him looked like. The other half always involved him blinking or looking in the wrong direction. Not everyone could be as photogenic as Amy Pond. “Smart phones have good cameras on them now, at least. Not like they used to be.”
“Well, you’re absolutely right about that.” Amy said, and shoved it back into her pocket. She turned to lead the way into the park. “Where should we go first? Tomorrowland? Frontierland? Fantasyland?” She tossed her coffee cup into a nearby trash as they walked, and picked up a map from a stand. It had maps translated into about a dozen different languages. She picked the one in English.
Which was good, because John was complete rubbish at other languages, if he had to be honest. He glanced at the map over her shoulder, leaning a little close and squinting just so he could see proper. “I’ve never actually been here before. What’s best?”
“I have no idea. Depends what you like, really. We could take the train all the way around the park and look at things. Do you want to do rides or shows? Meet characters?? I HAVE to get a picture of you with Mickey Mouse.” Amy responded, grinning brightly. She turned to look at him leaning in close.
“Train seems like a good start. I’m afraid I don’t know how patient I am for things like rides. If I have to stand in line for an hour, the novelty wears off a bit, you know?” But let’s be honest here, he’d probably just end up doing what she liked anyway, which would involve Mickey ice cream and photo ops.
“The train it is!” Amy said, then looped her arm through his to lead him into the park. It was like walking through a child’s fantasy. Candy shops, characters, bright lights, music playing... Amy could tell why they called this the happiest place on Earth.
“I don’t know. Some of the rides here are supposed to be pretty fantastic.” She said, and turned once around the end of the street to lead the way into the line for the train. It only took a couple of minutes, then they were climbing on board.
It was easy enough to find a seat, and they did. “Well, if they’re fantastic, I won’t say no. I’m not against waiting for complete brilliance. I can be patient, if I must.” He eyed her for a moment, almost serious before smiling a little lamely and turning his head to look out at the view before waiting for the train to start actually going.
“Which rides?”
“Well, I don’t know about how fantastic they are, that’s just what I’ve been told.” Amy said, giving him a grin. The train took off and the narrator started his little talk about Disneyland and their trip around the park, but Amy was far more interested in talking with John than in what the voice over was saying. Honestly, she was more interested in John than a lot of things. Probably more than she should have been. “Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion, Indiana Jones, Splash Mountain... that’s all on the map, here.” All in New Orleans Square, Frontierland and Critter Country, on the left hand side of the map.
Who could resist a place called Critter Country, anyway? John smiled at that, indulgent. “I guess I can’t pass up the idea of Indiana Jones rides. The rest could be good, sure.” None of them were really roller coasters, which is what he had sort of been expecting. “Might not be too long a wait, either, it’s pretty early yet...”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine the lines are terribly long yet. The park’s only barely opened.” It was just a couple minutes more before the train was pulling into the station at New Orleans Square. Amy took hold of John’s hand to guide him off the train, then wandered through the station and out into the square. She forgot to drop his hand for a few moments after exiting the train, finding the warmth of his palm against hers to be exciting and comforting. “Pirates and Indiana Jones are just over there... and the Haunted Mansion and Splash Mountain in the opposite direction.”
“Lead on,” John could only think to say -- because he was up for anything that she was up for. Indiana Jones was cool, and it was hard to resist anything to do with pirates, even though he was sure that phase was a bit over by this part of the decade. He made it a very firm point to be looking around at all the buildings and the people and read the signs. He was not thinking about hand holding. Because that would be rude.
Lucky for him (for both of them?) the hand holding ended in a moment, as Amy nearly tripped over a Girl Scout Troop and had to step to the side to let one pass between them. Little girls wearing blue. Tiny things. Amy turned and watched them go. “Girl Guides?” She asked. “Must be... what, five, six years old?” She turned and gave him a smile. When was she not smiling at him? Besides when she was playfully teasing him. “C’mon, let’s go be Pirates.” She looped her arm through his and nearly skipped off toward the ride, dragging him along with her.
Watson had never hated Girl Scouts more. Although he was sure he’d forgive them as soon as they were silly enough to go door to door with their cookies and be forced into a very scary conversation with Sherlock Holmes. “Everyone looks young to me, I just can never tell these days.” he joked, even as they headed into the little queue for the ride -- 10 minute waits were like a steal in this sort of place.
“Well, those girls were absolutely younger than I am,” Amy said, as if that helped. “And I’m definitely quite a bit younger than you are, so... C’mon, Grandpa.” She beamed up at him, the crook of her elbow nestled in against his. She didn’t bother to drop her arm from his as they walked through the line, as they were constantly moving anyway. They were awarded the front seat of the boat when they reached the dock, and Amy climbed in.
“Look over there... there are people eating. It’s a restaurant.” She said, sounding astonished, pointing over at the Blue Bayou’s patio seating.
“Wow,” said Watson, in a traditionally British tone that was wry, and completely unimpressed. “People eating. I knew I’d get to see all the best sights here.” He bumped shoulders with Amy and then squinted. “Is that a cheeseburger?”
Amy scoffed, playfully. “See if I invite you to lunch at the place where the ride is.” She said. The sentence didn’t end up where she thought it was going to. The words didn’t seem to come out right. Huh. Anyway, the boat moved through the ride to a dip, and Amy gave a little yelp, having not really expected it at all. She grabbed onto John’s arm for balance, then conveniently forgot to let go for the rest of the ride.
In turn, he completely forgot to point out that she’d forgotten. It seemed only fair, after all. Once they’d freed themselves from their little boat seating, John told himself that it was only natural that she’d hung on. Rides could be scary. Especially pirate ones.
“That’s done,” he said, looking around at the exit of the ride. “What’s next? Mountain Splashes?”
“Indiana Jones.” Amy corrected him, leading the way down the little hall. The Pirates ride emptied into the gift shop, and Amy was all turned around. She stepped through the shop and glanced around, then blinked when the Live-Action Captain Jack Sparrow came wandering by, followed by his handler (a Disney employee to help with crowd control) and about a dozen women giggling and following after him like puppy dogs.
Amy stopped in her tracks and simply stared. “Some of those women are older than I am.” How undignified!
“Eh,” John only smiled and shrugged, watching Fake Jack and his gaggle of women. “You can’t deny the cheekbone attraction of Johnny Depp. No one can.” Not even John could. That was saying something, honestly. “Plus, some people have no sense of shame.”
It was slightly surprising that John hadn’t made a crack about how many women in this park were older than she was. She’d set that one up for him fairly well. Maybe they were finally getting over the age difference?
Nah.
“Well...” Amy took a step toward where Fake Jack was now standing, signing autographs and taking pictures. “I...” she took another, as if her body was doing it of its own accord. “I’m not sure I can stop myself...” she added, playfully, taking another few steps. “The... attraction... it’s too much...” Both arms reached out toward John. “Save me from the goatee!”
Nah. He’d just been distracted by eyeliner and cheekbones like everyone else. Duh.
“You mustn't,” John said, playing solemn and worried, and grabbing her shoulder to hold her back. “It’s a slippery slope, Pond. Today it’s Jack Sparrow, tomorrow it’s hobos and the generally unwashed masses that look a bit like Jack Sparrow. Don’t fall down that hole.”
“You’d best distract me.” Amy said, lifting her arm up in the air and holding the crook of her elbow over her eyes as if shielding herself from Captain Jack Sparrow’s majesty. “Let’s go ride Indiana Jones before I succumb to my primal urges.” ...primal urges? She lowered her arm a bit and grinned at him over her elbow. “Not sure where that came from.”
Being asked to distract someone before succumbing to anything was enough to make John go a little pink. He’d blame it on the extended amount of time in sunlight, though. He cleared his throat, patted her indulgently on the head and lead her off in the opposite direction of -- things. “I don’t know if I can trust you with a young Harrison Ford after your Pirate Lust.”
“I dunno if I can trust me, either. It’s just a gamble we’ll have to take.” She moved with him through the now slightly thickening crowds, pulling out her map and looking down at it. “Ooh, the Jungle Cruise. We should try that one, too. I hear it’s really corny. Like, the jokes are so campy they’re amazing.”
“I thought you only camped in forests, not jungles.” Bad dum chaaaa. Watson? He wasn’t even sorry. They headed in the direction of the Jungle Cruise anyway, because he loved a bad joke more than he ought have.
"Har Har.” Amy said, though she was grinning brightly. “Indiana Jones first.” She added, tugging his arm into the Indiana Jones ride. The line leading up to the ride on this one had cool things to do--tugging on a rope made sound effects, and there was a television screen showing a little, faux documentary thing about the ride and how to buckle the seat belt, or something.
“You know... I wasn’t born when these movies came out.” Amy said, trying to suppress a smirk.
John just rolled his eyes at that. “You weren’t born when any good movie came out. Your generation. It’s all IMAX and 3D and special effects. You’re just handed everything on a silver platter.” It was like their most consistent joke.
Amy gave a sort of “pshaw” noise. “Well of course I am. I deserve it. What, things weren’t handed to you on a silver platter? Jeez, how did you live??” It was a wonderful joke. Amy enjoyed it.
They reached the front of the line and climbed into the car thingy that would take them on the ride. This one left no time for talking as it bumped and jumped through the ride. There were fake snakes, lots of dry ice fog, pretend arrows (puffs of air) shooting out from the walls... it was a hoot. Of course, it ended with a giant stone ball rolling after them and nearly crushing them! And a fake Indy hanging from a rope near the exit, talking at them animatronically.
All in all it was a pretty cheesy ride. John had enjoyed it thoroughly. He considered bringing up a time when Harrison Ford had been cool, and not just probably a weird drunk. But it seemed like too easy a jab.
Instead, he said: “Do they do pictures on those -- during the ride? You know, the kind you can look at later?”
“I have no idea,” Amy said, glancing around as they left the ride. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see a flash... but I think I saw one on the Pirates ride.” ...she had, in fact. That was one of the rides that did. “I bet there’s one on Splash Mountain. We should do something funny for the camera.” She added, her eyes lighting up at the idea.
Just then a young woman came over to John and Amy. She’d been standing with a group of her friends--must have been a high school field trip--and the whole group was giggling and grinning. “Hi,” she said, looking at Amy. “Um... are you the model for MakeMeNew?”
Amy broke into the brightest smile she’d ever worn. “That’s right. I’m Amy Pond.”
There was a loud peal of laughter from the group, and the girls rushed forward, asking for Amy’s autograph.
John blinked at that, standing aside a little for the gaggle of girls so they could properly swarm around Amy. This was new, he had to admit. But really cool for Amy. He smiled, oddly indulgent and happy for the scene unfolding before him as he watched Amy happily sign bits of paper and Disneyland maps.
It only lasted for a couple of minutes, then the girls wandered off, giggling to themselves. Amy was shocked--but it was the good kind of shocked. She turned to John with an expression torn between ‘can you believe that just happened?’ and ‘OH MY GOD I JUST GAVE MY FIRST AUTOGRAPHS.’
The shock was fading into giddiness, leaving her speechless. Well, almost speechless. Amy Pond was never completely speechless. “Well! That was.... wonderful!”
Blinking again, John rose his eyebrows into his traditional expression of half surprised and amused. “You’ve -- that’s never happened to you before?” He just kind of assumed it happened more often. He wasn’t sure why though, since it’d clearly never done when he’d been around her before. “That’s fantastic. We should find a way to celebrate.” He was strangely proud of her.
“Sure I’ve signed things before. For press releases and for my agent to pass out... that sort of thing. But I’ve never been sighted on the street before! Not that this is a street, obviously, it’s a theme park. Disneyland, of all places! The happiest place on Earth, they say. It is for me today!” She gave a little squeal. Very little. Then she realized she should probably keep her composure, and cleared her throat. “Right. Celebrate. We should celebrate!” It was hard to keep her cool.
He laughed at that, a little chuckle really. “You don’t have to behave if you’re excited you know,” he felt the need to point out. “Bounce around, be excited. It’s really cool. Firsts should always be celebrated. Let’s find somewhere to get lunch. Surely somewhere serves drinks here, right?”
Amy gave a laugh after she was given permission, and she did bounce up and down a few times. “I’m excited! I’m a real model now! Can you believe it? They recognized me! What’s more... they wanted my autograph! Oh, dear. You think they were genuine? They seemed genuinely excited to meet me. As much as teenage girls can, really.” She was babbling again.
“We should go celebrate! I don’t know... do they serve drinks in Disneyland? We’ll find somewhere for lunch. Maybe we should ask.” She stepped over to the nearest shop to ask for directions, but got distracted by Timone and Pumbaa stuffed animals.
Watson laughed with her and while he wasn’t one to bounce or jump there was an extra pep in his step as he walked beside her. “Of course they were genuine. You’re gorgeous, and a great model. Why wouldn’t they be? Are you in a lot of magazines? That must be how they recognized you, right?”
And then somehow they were staring at toys. “...Do you like those ones?”
“MakeMeNew Cosmetics ran a huge campaign over the last six months,” Amy explained. “I think my face was on the back cover of every magazine for seventeen year old girls in the country.” She was still giddy about it. There was a laugh in her voice, bubbling up from deep inside. Of course, she hadn’t noticed the wonderful compliment that he’d given her. After the excitement wore off, when she was thinking back on the day, she’d realize what he said, and it would warm her heart.
“Who doesn’t like Timone and Pumbaa?” She asked, giving John a grin.
Probably he’d missed the magazines because he didn’t really pick up copies of teen vogue. Which was surprising actually, considering the crap selection of magazines in the waiting room of the hospital clinic. He decided it might be a little creepy if he said he’d keep an eye out though. It just seemed -- well, whatever.
“Everyone likes them,” John said, nodding sagely. “Even the heartless. Do you want them? Part of the celebration bits.” Was she too old for that? Argh, he never knew.
“You know what? I think I do.” She was a little too old for them. But it was fun! Something to remember the day, and the monumental occasion. “But here... you should have one.” That way he could remember it, too. “You take Pumbaa. He’s softer, you can cuddle up with him at night. And I’ll take Timone, and then we’ve got the matched set!”
As if he’d forget. Amy was rewarded with a wry smile, but that didn’t stop Watson from taking the toys to the counter and pulling out his wallet to purchase them. If Sherlock or Peter had anything to say about him being the new proud owner of a cartoon Warthog stuffed animal, they could really just shove it.
“Perfect, perfect,” he said as he signed a receipt and declined a plastic bag (they could carry them), “Matched set. They’ll need play dates and tea parties, of course.”
“Of course.” Amy said, accepting the stuffed Timone and hugging him against her chest. She tugged the tag off and tossed it into a rubbish bin. “We can’t keep them apart for too long, can we? We’ll have to give them sleepovers and the like.” She fiddled a bit with her new stuffed animal, checking out his ears and tail. He really was a dashing Meerkat, wasn’t he?
He was, indeed. Pumba was not so dashing, but had his own kind of warthog charm to him. John carried the toy under his arm, and didn’t look particularly ashamed over it. Nor did he seem very against the idea of sleepovers. But he wasn’t going to say so, either. “Well, they are best friends, you know. It’d be unfair of us to forget that.” a beat. “What next? Lunch? Splash Mountain?”
“Splash Mountain, then lunch!” Amy said. She was in such a good mood. Best mood she’d had in a while, she realized. It was always when she was hanging out with John when she felt her best. After a quick consult with the map, she turned to lead the way across New Orleans Square toward Critter Country.
While walking along, Amy and Timone pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of John with Pumbaa under his arm. Then she turned the camera on herself, with Timone by her side, and snapped another picture. Then she stepped over to John, wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and held the phone out so she could get a picture of the four of them.
They had to squeeze a bit close to get all in the frame, but the picture turned out worth it -- for once, John did not have that blank eyebrow expression going on, but instead a sort of cheesy smile that definitely fit the moment. It was a good photo. “You’ll have to send those to me. That way I can prove I’m really friends with this famous model.”
Amy laughed. “All right.” She clicked a couple of buttons on her phone, sending the photo to her Mum and Aunt, then to John. This would have been the perfect opportunity to crack a joke about how he was too old to know how to use his new-fangled smart phone to look at pretty pictures, but she couldn’t think how to phrase it right. Besides, they were almost to Splash Mountain now.
The line for this one was a little longer. Amy spent some of it making her Timone talk to the little girl who was in a stroller in line behind them. By the time they reached the front of the ride, the little girl (who had to use the rider swap thing with her mother and father, since she was too short for the ride) was practically worshipping Amy.
No one could blame that little girl. Amy was, after all, fun, funny and terribly personable. It only made sense that everyone else worshiped the ground that the redhead walked on.
Once they actually were getting a seat for the ride, Watson glanced around. “Where do you think the camera is? We’ve got to be ready for it so we can look appropriately cool.”
“I bet it’s on the drop. This ride has that huge drop--” it was impossible for him to miss, there were screams and splashes at regular intervals. “--What should we do?” Amy asked, climbing into the seat in front of his. She had the front seat in the whole car, which was awesome. Though, there were a handful of strangers behind them for the ride. “So you have thoughts?”
It was like a little log, so he had to sit behind her, but that seemed fine. “Well,” he said, settling in. “Have you got sunglasses?” his had been on the top of his head the whole time -- black lensed things that were probably only stylish in an ironic sense. “We could -- uh. Pretend it’s quite boring.” Because that was funny when the other people in the car would be screaming. Right? Was that lame?
Amy laughed. “I love it! That’s a great idea.” She turned to the folks behind them, and called out. “Oi! When the thing goes down, and it takes our picture. Pretend to be bored, all right?” Who knew if they’d do it, too. Amy tugged her sunglasses out of her t-shirt (where they’d been hanging this whole time. for sure. let’s just say yes.) and put them up on her head. “This is gonna be absolutely brilliant.” She added then lifted her hand for a high-five from Watson as the car started moving.
High five? Really? Hadn’t this evolved for young people? Fist bumps or secret hand shakes or something? Watson snorted, gave a high five in return (it was one of the good ones that was very loud), and then slipped his sunglasses onto his nose, crossed his arms, and practiced looking very, very unimpressed.
Amy loved it! Besides, he was far too old to give fist bumps. When old guys did that, it was creepy. She sat for a moment in the ride, enjoying the campy animatronics, then pulled her glasses on and gave a very convincing yawn when they went over the falls. She even saw the flash, which made her confident that they’d found the right place to pull their funny faces.
Once the ride was through, they piled off of it, stuffed animals and all. “I think that went well,” John said, amused even as he pushed his sunglasses back up on top of his head. Of course, there was no real knowing until the photos popped up on the screens in front of them.
Amy was still laughing as they climbed off the ride. She looped her arm through his, and hugged Timone to her chest with the other arm as they headed down to the photo booth to check theirs out.
It was the cutest thing Amy had ever seen. They were looking completely nonplussed while the rest of the car (who hadn’t taken Amy’s instructions to heart) were freaking out.
That really made it look funnier though, like John and Amy were just complete badasses while everyone else was just not. John liked it. A lot. “Clearly we’re buying that,” he said, bumping her shoulder with his own.
“Clearly,” Amy said, giving him a grin. “I’m buying two.”