Untitled - TARDIS Big Bang

Rose snorted, and nudged his head around so he wasn't resting it on her laptop. "I'm not throwing a
birthday party for Harry Potter," she said.
"Why not?" he demanded. "He's a national treasure! Oh, when I read Book Seven, I cried..."
"He doesn't exist in this universe," Rose explained, while looking up appropriate synonyms for evil. "I
looked it up. No J. K. Rowling here. And even if there had been, his birthday was yesterday."
The Doctor suddenly sat up. "Really? No Harry Potter?" Rose shook her head, and he knit his eyebrows.
"So if I were to, say, rewrite them all from memory..."
"Isn't that plagiarism?" Rose asked. "Besides being really tedious?"
"Well, okay, technically...but they're instant classics of literature! Think of the children here!" And he
spent the better part of four hours with Rose's other computer, typing furiously and muttering under his
breath, and when he finally gave up Rose didn't dare ask if he'd forgotten the name of a Weasley or just
gotten bored.
And then were the moments when he rested his chin on her head or shoulder and just read what she
was writing, offering helpful comments like, "I think there were four of them, actually" or "Don't forget
what Jack said, it was really clever, what was it again?" or "You spelled something wrong."
Rose scanned the paragraph she'd just typed. "Where?"
"I'm not telling, you guess." Then he saw the look on he face and immediately retreated. "Or not, you
know, the answer is 'Osterhagen' actually, and I'll just be over here now." He fixed himself a cup of tea
while Rose tried to convince her computer that she wasn't actually trying to type osteopathy and when
he sat back down he kindly let her concentrate for a whole three hours.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, she had a nice, concise report, with everything spelled
correctly and the illusion that all loose ends had been worked away. If anyone asked why Mickey had
stayed behind, she could offer up a dozen reasons—including his gran's death in this universe and his
unauthorized travel to a parallel world with Jackie—and Rose knew none of them would be the right
ones. They would have to do.
The Doctor made a whimpering noise when the alarm went off and tried to hide under her pillow (as he
was so adept at knocking his own off the side of the bed). But when she got out of the shower, she
found him shuffling around the kitchen in his boxers, a lonely piece of toast in one hand and an empty
coffee cup in the other. "You didn't have to get up, you know," Rose said.
The Doctor just made a vague grunting noise at first, but then he turned to look at her and his eyes went
wide. "Well, hello," he said. "Do you always wear that sort of thing to work?"
Rose looked down at the suit she'd put on, with a pinstriped blouse and open-toed flats. "Well, when I'm
talking to my boss, yeah," she said. "Usually they don't mind jeans, though."
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