Who: TARDIS and Tenth Doctor When: During this Where: John’s Book Release Party. What: Getting over the awkward. Rating: Low Status: Complete.
This week had been trying for John Smith. He found that to be regretful regretful in a lot of ways and wasn't even sure where to start (was it with the fact that he'd ostracized himself from his best friend? Learned the truth about himself and so many others when he'd been trying his hardest not to? Been drunk since Friday?).
Tonight was his book release party. It'd be hitting the shelves tomorrow. He was meant to be excited. And he kind of was, in his own right. He was wearing his best suit -- brown and stripey, blue shirt, red tie. Chuck Taylor All Stars. It was a Doctor suit. He knew that. But these days there was no real differentiating anyway. Because even if he wanted to, everyone else saw him for what they knew him to be, anyway.
Except here he was a writer. And that was pretty cool, wasn't it?
There was a wine table, and some other tables -- one covered with copies of his books. He'd already given a cool little speech, followed up by one from his editor, and his publisher. Now all that was left was some random chatting. Meeting. Book signing if anyone wanted it. It was going pretty well.
Tara had been nervous leading up to the book release. She hadn’t seen John since she’d left his place Friday, and just that made her nervous. They hadn’t gone so long without seeing each other since... Well, ever since they’d met in this life.
Arriving at the place, Tara walked in with a hesitant smile directed at the doorman. She was directed inside, and as she stood at the entranceway, she searched the room for John. Her date for the night. It was a bit weird to think of him that way. Fiddling with her casual new dress, she looked just about as nervous as she felt.
No one could blame her, certainly. What kind of date was a best friend, anyway? Particularly one that had pulled away completely nearly a week ago? True enough, they hadn’t spoken at all beyond a text since Friday. John was regretful of that. But then again, he found he was regretful of quite a bit lately.
Still. He wanted this to be a happy day -- you were only allowed one First Book Release party, after all. If the Doctor was good at anything, it was wearing a smile until he actually meant it. Or until everyone else thought he meant it. Sometimes that was good enough.
He spotted her first -- and it was possibly because his eyes had been on that doorway the entire evening. He smiled, bright, warm, excited - from a distance. He had missed her.
Tara met his eyes while browsing the room, nearly passed over them, but caught the smile just in time. She grinned in response, raising a hand in greeting before heading further into the party. John was surrounded by a group of people chatting, but she managed to keep his gaze while she approached, smile never fading. She was excited and so happy for him.
“Hi,” she said when she got there. Unsure how exactly she should greet him, the brunette decided on a hug and put her arms around him for a quick squeeze. She lingered for a moment, shutting her eyes as she told him “I missed you.” She was never very good at keeping quiet on how she felt, and she wasn’t about to start now!
Excusing himself from current company, it was clear that John was making time for only Tara. A little selfish in this scenario, but it was his night, after all. Who could blame him? Well. Lots of people, but that was a bad phrasing, he thought.
He hugged her back, because he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been angry with Tara -- only himself, really. Their hugs were natural and never awkward, not really. He smiled, a little sort of smile and pulled away after a moment. “Quite right, too.” he agreed, mildly -- repeating the words that she’d said to him on Friday.
When they pulled apart, Tara reached for John’s hand and held it firmly in hers. She smiled up at her date, then noticed his outfit. His best suit. If her smile could have grown, it would have. She just didn’t have enough face real estate to fit anymore! “You look a bit like a thief I once knew,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. She knew he’d understand.
“Do I, now?” John adjusted his tie, and couldn’t help but feel a little pleased at the words. A little sad too, though, because sometimes he would have just preferred to be John Smith. It was so much easier. But he supposed he didn’t have that choice -- not here in California, anyway. Oddly, he had never considered relocating.
“Well. That was a long time ago. I’ve gone honest.”
“You can’t go honest when you’ve still got the stolen object in your possession,” she pointed out, brow raised conspiratorially. “Though I suppose I’m not much of an object here. Still,” she left the thought unfinished, then glanced around a bit. Where was the bar?
“Was I terribly late? Did I miss your speech?” She must have. Tara was pouting at the thought. She’d tried to be on time, really she had, but she was just not very talented in that regard.
“It was a rubbish speech, anyway,” John said, only giving an eyebrow raise at her previous statement. It wasn’t theft here, was it? She had parents she borrowed pick-up trucks from and everything.
“Drink? They’ve got wine. It’s these little glasses, but they don’t seem to mind when people go for a refill.” He hadn’t had any yet tonight -- then again, he still felt a bit hung over from the past four days or so.
“I don’t believe that,” she said quietly, rolling her eyes at her best friend. He was good with words. Sure, he had a bit of a gob, but it was endearing. And he was charismatic -- probably all the women in the room had been starry-eyed. “You’ll have to tell it to me again.”
Simply nodding at his offer of a drink, she would let him lead her wherever they needed to go for alcohol. As they moved, she caught sight of a giant pop-up banner -- with John’s book’s cover art on it. “Oh! John!” she exclaimed, unable to keep the excitement in. “I can’t believe today is today! This is so exciting!”
And wasn’t that cute, for the TARDIS to be disbelieving of what particular day it was? Still, he understood completely -- maybe even a bit more than her, considering that this was something he’d been working toward for a very long time now. He smiled, and it should have been that bright, stupid, unreserved one, but instead it was tiny and nearly shy (if that was something he could pull off). “It’s quite a nice cover, right? I think they’ve made it look more interesting than it really is.” But that wasn’t true at all and they both knew it. Modesty wasn’t something that suited John.
“I think it’s great, but not as great as what it will hold. Much bigger ideas on the inside,” she said, tapping her nose as she made a you-know-what-I-mean face at her best friend. It seemed she’d been falling into this trap quite a lot, lately. When she’d hung out with Rose, the two of them had been throwing dream world jokes back and forth (probably all quite bad ones) nearly all night.
Pausing as she grabbed a cup of the wine, she watched John for a moment and then was distracted a bit by the crowds gathered. “D’you think the author will sign my copy?” she asked in jest, though sounding a bit distracted. She couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her lips though, and quickly covered it with the cup of wine.
Wasn’t that true of nearly all books, though? There was much more on the inside than what people ever expected. Perhaps that was why John liked them in the first place.
John took a glass of wine as well, because there was nothing to really stop him. “He just might,” he agreed as they edged away from the refreshment table. “I’m sure he could be persuaded to, anyway.”
“I’ll be sure to ask him when he’s less busy,” she said, following John away from the table. After all, she wanted to keep his exclusive attention for at least a little while. He’d be dragged away soon enough.
Part of Tara really wanted to ask John how he was feeling. But she already knew what his answer would be: he was always alright. She supposed she might know him better than he knew himself. So she settled on an easier topic of conversation, namely: “Have you got any fangirls about?” Because she could tease him on that, couldn’t she?
“I’m not sure,” John said, eyes darting about the place as if maybe he were looking for some. It wasn’t hard for him to find girls that might like him, and it never had been. He knew as well as Tara did that he had some pretty strong charismatic qualities about him. If he were a lesser sort, he might have taken advantage of that knowledge. “Are you a fangirl?” he asked, instead of really answering.
He was pleased beyond measure she didn’t ask how he was doing. He didn’t want to get into that conversation. The Doctor had been a wreck the last time they’d seen each other. And he was better now, but only by different, varying degrees. That was how life went, sometimes. Tiny steps.
Tara folded her free arm around her middle, making a thinking face as she sipped at her little cup of wine. “Well,” she began, lifting her shoulders slightly. “I suppose I’m not best friends with you because of your writing. But I am a fan of yours. Would that classify me as a fangirl?”
She looked around the party, silently hoping that Rose and Liam would make an appearance. She’d asked Rose to attend, at least to support John, and perhaps she’d decided it was a good idea. It had been a little while since Liam and John’s falling out, maybe Rose had thought it a good idea to check in. Either way, she would be glad to see her there.
“It might,” said the Doctor, in that vaguely bemused way of his. He wasn’t exactly super thinking on exact specifications of what might make Tara a fan girl, after all. As awkward as he could manage, he watched her look around for a time. “Waiting on someone?”
Tara squeezed John’s hand and shook her head as she turned her attention back to him. “No, not really. I invited a few people, just wanted to see if they’d come. But I don’t see them.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
Turning fully toward John, the brunette leaned to settle her cheek against his shoulder. She was her happiest around him, and couldn’t help wanting to be closer. It was just natural for her to be around him, she’d spent so many years in his head (which sounded a bit weird now that she was thinking about it, though it wasn’t all that weird at all). Being best friends here had also given her the ability to read him quite well. He wasn’t alright, but he was making a brave face. She decided she had to be supportive, especially now. “I’m so happy for you, John.”
“Thank you, Tara,” he said, and meant it. He was probably thanking her for a lot of things: because she came, because she cared, because she cared so much, in fact, that she wasn’t asking him all the questions he knew she wanted.
And because, frankly, she was his best friend, and people ought have been thanked for things like that, sometimes.
Then he did just what came natural to them them both -- he leaned down and kissed her.
Though feeling a bit selfish in the moment (she tried her best to ignore it), Tara lifted her head from John’s shoulder and smiled into the kiss. It lasted only a moment, and as she pulled away the small smile turned to a toothy grin. She leaned forward again and gave him an eskimo kiss, just happy to be in this moment. At John’s book release party. She couldn’t believe her best friend had a book coming out.
“You should go mingle with your fans,” she said, swinging their arms between them. Because as much as she wanted to hog his attention all night, this was his party. She’d have to share, at least a little.
John didn’t let go of her hand, only swung it a little harder for a moment, a little higher. Playful. He felt better just with Tara at his side. So he smiled, bright, brilliant: real. “You’re my date. You get to mingle with me.”