Mike (ghost_writer) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-07-19 19:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gwen stacy (ghost spider), tenth doctor |
Who: Gwen Stacy and Tenth Doctor
When: Circa July 12
Where: Their place
What: breakfast for dinner
Rating/Warning: Low/None
Status: Complete!
“John! Are you coming out?!” Gwen called from her spot in the kitchen. She’d pulled some pancakes out of the freezer and put them in the toaster to warm up for dinner. It was one of those Breakfast-for-Dinner kind of days, where she was going to eat bacon, fruit, yogurt and pancakes as her main, late-afternoon/early-evening meal. “Do you want me to warm some of these up for you?”
Of course, it didn’t occur to her until after she yelled across the apartment that he might be writing, and she shouldn’t bother him.
“What?” John might have been coming out. From wherever he was. But first he was going to take advantage of the fact that they were fun human beings and yelling in a household was just something that should be done now and again. “Yes!”
He hadn’t been writing. He’d been thinking about writing, but had since been distracted by some online typing game.
“Good!” Gwen called out again, enjoying being able to yell. It was a happy yell, mostly, not a cranky one. Those were so much less fun than the happy ones. “Because I’m making breakfast!” ...of course, it was the evening. Probably close to sunset.
“Breakfast for dinner?” John’s head popped out of his room and he had his glasses on, but his eyebrows were raised high over them. He loved breakfast for dinner, if only because conventions were very boring, and it was nice to break them in such an easy way. “I want that.”
They both loved breakfast for dinner. Gwen was a fan. John was a fan. It was a good thing for them to do together. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, beans on toast. The whole nine yards. Gwen had finished putting the pancakes in the toaster, and gave a laugh. “I know you do! You always do. Come on out and set the table!”
There was also something to be said for a buffet of food -- John thought it was something very Doctor-y about him -- loving choices and delighting over every single little thing no matter how silly the choices or subject matter. “Mmm hmm,” he hummed, settling his glasses onto the top of his head before nearly bouncing over to the cupboards for plates.
Gwen wasn’t the greatest impromptu chef in the world, but she could follow directions on a box of bisquick and make pancakes. And variations on pancakes. And she could scramble eggs and toast toast. And, well, heat up the pre-cooked bacon she bought at the store. It was a right feast, and when it was all ready, she moved everything to the table so they could dig in.
“You know... I think our being roommates was one of the best choices I’ve ever made in my life.” She said, settling into her seat.
“Sometimes impromptu decisions are the best!” John was all smiles and agreement at that -- but it was true, they were good flatmates. For the most part they got on swimmingly -- they ate well, drank better, knew when to clean, and when to have fun. As well as when to not bother each other. It was a good balance.
“It’s usually hard to find such a good flatmate.”
They didn’t ever have problems with the company the other kept, which was also a blessing. Not that Gwen had much company over. She loved her flatmate, and she loved Tara--who practically lived there, too--but she kept them separate from the guys she went out with. It was easier that way. And Gwen’s friends were mostly at work, too... she was a bit of a loner at home. If that made any sense.
“I went through quite a few while I was in Grad School. It was really distracting.” She said, then started to pile food onto her plate.
“Did you?” John was munching on toast as if he’d never had anything better in his life. “Why so many?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t what they were looking for in a roommate?” Gwen said, then sipped from her coffee cup. (Oh, did she mention there was coffee? Can’t have a breakfast-for-dinner without coffee.) “I’ve lightened up considerably now I’m no longer in school. Getting my doctorate was something I took way, way too seriously.”
He sipped his coffee too (it was hard not to notice, because it smelled like magic in liquid format, and also he was an author and he knew that there was always coffee at all hours). “Eh, I’m pretty sure it’s a legitimately important thing to take seriously. Being a Doctor is hard work.”
“You would know better than most.” Gwen said, giving him a little smirk over her coffee mug. She set it back down and started in on her food. “Where’s Tara?”
He would, wouldn’t he? And he didn’t even have a degree. Funny how that worked! He only gave a cheeky sort of smile and tilted his head one way and then the other in clear amusement. “Tara? She’s been pretty busy with work lately.” Pout, sad.
Indeed, sad. Gwen liked it when she came around. John always seemed … brighter... with her nearby. “Oh. That’s really sad. I hope her work schedule lightens up so she can come by.” When the two of them were … y’know... fighting, or whatever, it made Gwen feel so weird. Like being split between divorcing parents, or something.
John couldn’t even imagine how awkward that might be for Gwen. Of course, when he and Tara were fighting, he’d be the first to admit he thought of little beyond himself. Luckily, they didn’t fight much, if ever, really.
“Yeahhhhh,” he elongated his words until they were hardly words anymore. “We’ll -er, she’ll figure it out I’m sure.”
Of course he was thinking of himself. That’s what people did in those situations. It wasn’t mean, it was just human (or human-growing-to-be time lord?) nature. Gwen understood anyway. She was like that a lot of the time. Wrapped up in her own drama.
“Yeah. I’m sure she will. How are the book sales?” Gwen asked between bites of pancake.
“They keep sending me checks, so they can’t be that bad, right?” John grinned, stealing a pancake for his plate and then making a mad grab for the chocolate syrup which was really the best kind of syrup.
That brought a bright grin to Gwen’s features. “Well, you’re making rent, so that’s a good sign.” She said, giving a gentle shrug of one shoulder. While he went for the syrup, she went for the butter. Pancakes always needed a little more butter.
“Certainly can’t complain,” he agreed before tucking in to his pancakes. Well, he probably could have. Dreams were weird and he missed his best friend that he occasionally liked kissing and sometimes he wanted nothing more than to text Rose Tyler, except she was living with the other version of him and he couldn’t do that to himself or her.
But mostly things were pretty good.
And he liked these pancakes.