tara diana smith (tardiss) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-27 18:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, tardis, tenth doctor |
Who: TARDIS and Tenth Doctor
When: Early August
Where: John (and Gwen’s) flat
What: Talking, catching up, guilt trip.
Rating: Low.
Status: Complete.
Tara had been busy at work. Truly, awfully,terribly busy. Sure, she’d had time to visit her best friends here and there during the last month. But it hadn’t been the same. Work was always busy in the summers for the girl, but she’d never felt it so terribly before. Now that she had people she’d rather be spending time with, it wasn’t so easy to get buried in work. In fact, she’d started to hate it a bit.
Well, she supposed, working is a part of life. And in Tara’s case (in stark contrast to her other life as the TARDIS), adventure had to wait -- at least until the bills were paid!
Stopping on the way, the girl announced her arrival at her best friend’s apartment with a quick text. Climbing out of her little blue car, she pulled out her bags and waited (impatiently -- she was bouncing a bit on her heels) for John.
John answered in quick ass record time, the door hanging open as he literally let out a sound of pure, unadulterated glee and picked Tara up, bags and all, in order to spin her happily. He’d missed her, okay? Especially lately. Dropping off a grilled cheese sandwich at her work every now and then wasn’t the same as hanging out. He’d gotten used to seeing her constantly, and the near radio silence had been deafening.
“YOU.”
Tara let out a squeal and a giggle matching the level of glee that John had greeted her with. Spinning, she continued to laugh even as she secured her arms around his neck. “Me!” She responded happily, grinning up at him as she kicked her feet a bit. Because she was happy to see her best friend and stuff! Except she was kind of starting to feel dizzy from all of the spinning... Eugh. “Hello!”
Oops! He set her back down on the ground proper, but did not see a reason to actually release his grip on her waist. "Hellllo!" He elongated his words until they weren't anymore, because that was just something he did and they both knew it and he at least liked it. Tara had never complained, so there was that.
"I've started a fort, but it's just not as good as yours," he informed her and then (because he could) he leaned down and kissed her.
He'd really missed her, okay? And this was clearly what one did with their best, most attractive, happiest, most timey whimey, friend.
Tara could never complain about what made John John -- in fact, she could only do the opposite. He was refreshing and fun and adventurous and, well to sum it all up in a name, he was her Doctor. The Doctor who had just kissed her, and whom she grabbed around the back of the head for a longer, deeper kiss.
This is totally how you greet your best friends, alright?
Pulling away after a long moment, she dropped her arms back down to her sides and continued flashing her (rather inappropriate there, Tara) set of teeth up at John. “I’m sure it’s great! Grand even! It’ll compare to the Taj Mahal, I’m sure. Show me?”
Such a flasher. Never wear a trench coat, Tara.
"Mmmm," he said, twisting his lips thoughtfully into a Look. "Bit more Leaning Tower, but I'll take it." Hey, he did masterpieces, or something. Anyway, it was just a start. He hadn't built a fort since -- well. Since the last time Tara had, he supposed.
Either way, he took her bags and happily trotted up the stairs to his and Gwen's flat, knowing Tara would be game to follow.
Admit it, John. You’d like it if Tara wore a trench coat.
Handing over the bags happily, the brunette follow his trot with a light jog. Her smile never faltered as she made her way up the stairs, swinging her arms as they walked down the hallway. Had he not been holding onto the bags, she might have grabbed John’s hand. They were the touchy feely types, and totally oblivious to the fact that they were madly in love with each other.
Time Lords. Sigh.
“Were you sure to support the roof with enough wall structure?” she was asking as they walked, making small chat about one of her passions. Fort making was one of her specialities, or something. Like happiness and rainbows and timey wimey, it just came with the package.
And he had happiness, bounciness and then extreme waves of self pity, hatred and guilt! It was like a thing he did. A bit more on the first two lately, but that didn’t mean the others weren’t lurking somewhere in the background. It was just the way of things.
“Well, I tried. You know you’re best at it. By the way, I went to Gallifrey.” If he said it quickly, maybe she wouldn’t murder him.
Oh, the speed at which he’d said it wouldn’t reduce the risk of manslaughter. Of the two of them, Tara had been the one who’d expressed a keen interest in going home. Had she been holding a bag of eggs (luckily she had neither the bag nor had she purchased eggs), their insides would be littered about the floor.
Luckily, though, Tara was uninterested in having anything (or anyone’s) innards lining the floors anytime soon.
This took a dark turn.
Mouth agape, the brunette couldn’t find her words. She just stared, big brown eyes looking like John had just kicked 8-year-old Tara’s puppy, and made a noise of shock. “What?” was all she could muster. Without her?!
Well it wasn’t as if he hadn’t wanted to go too! He’d just been worried. John very pointedly settled the bags down on the kitchen table, and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment.
“I wanted you to-- you know. It was me. And me. And Rose.” He had a very pointed urge to scuff his shoe against the hardwood floors.
That just made her pout even further. But she’d always been the one wanting to go back! She’d said it so much! How could he have just gone without her?
If she were being entirely honest, Tara couldn’t remember another time when she’d felt so hurt. She looked down at her feet and settled her hands on her hips. Altogether, she stood like a child does just before throwing a tantrum. Careful, John.
“Did you not think to invite me?” she asked, sounding like tears were being carefully held at bay.
“Of course I did!” He was trying to be careful, he saw that tantrum coming on, knew it could be any second now. But he had always been a bit too good at talking for a bit too long.
“It wasn’t my trip, Tara. And anyway - I wouldn’t-- well. I’d want to go with you. Just you.” Okay, there, he’d said it. Even with his other self, he didn’t want to share Tara. Not special moments, or memories or trips. It was selfish. But he was just that sometimes.
The brunette was wringing her hands together, looking like she didn’t know what to make of that response. She still felt hurt that they hadn’t taken her along on their first journey back. Meanwhile, another part of her knew that he was being truthful. He didn’t want to share. How very 10-like.
She let out a breath through her nose, scuffed a toe against the tile in the kitchen and shrugged. “I just wish I had known,” she admitted quietly, sadly, dejectedly.
Of course it was 10-like. He was that Doctor, after all. “I’m sorry,” he said and realized he probably should have done that earlier. It didn’t make it any less true despite its lateness, though.
Tara looked up at John’s apology, lifted one side of her mouth in a half-smile and shrugged. “S’alright I guess,” she admitted quietly, folding her arms over her middle. “You’ll just have to make a second trip with me.” And there it is: the girl’s unending enthusiasm spelled out in the smile that spread across her lips.
She should begin worrying about her shifting moods, to be honest.
So should he have. But he didn’t, not really. John only smiled, large, toothy, excited. Fond.
“I’d go anywhere with you, Tara.”