A/N: It has been ages since I've written about these two and, um, hair. But after watching VoTD, I was suddenly struck by just how much I miss having Rose in the show and an actual fun, believable dynamic between the Doctor and someone else. Vair soon after these thoughts, this popped into my head. It's not the best, but, hopefully, it's not the worst...
Disclaimer: Not mine, because the restraining order overly complicated the business negotiations.
Rose briefly looked up as the figure casually strolled into her room. She was sitting in the middle of her bed, towel round her neck, and two thirds of the way through curling her hair.
"Don't bother knocking," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Thanks," said the Doctor, looking pleased, "I won't."
"No," sighed Rose, unsure of whether to smile or be annoyed, "I didn't mean- Oh, never mind."
She picked out another section of hair to curl, and began carefully winding it round the tongs. "Nearly finished," she said, glancing at the Doctor. The Doctor simply came and sat next to her on the pink bedspread, watching with undeniable fascination. He even drew his glasses out of his pocket and carefully slipped them on.
Rose tried very hard to ignore him and the way in which she could almost feel the force of his intent gaze burning a hole in the side of her face. It was not particularly comfortable, and she was already feeling hot enough from the curling tongs. With no small struggle, she concentrated on getting her hair curled without any irritating kinks. However, when she released the final section to reveal the last of the springy curls, she turned to the Doctor and snapped, "What?"
"Me?" jumped the Doctor, looking completely startled and not completely unafraid, "What've I done?"
"Yes you." replied Rose, grimly, gently separating out her new curls with her fingers, "Staring like that. What do you want?"
The Doctor reached out and gently touched one of her new, bouncy curls.
"Will you curl mine?" he asked seriously, "The whole process is quite fascinating, in terms of the simple transformation. And I honestly believe that that particular style is very well suited-"
"Are you joking?" demanded Rose, still blinking from surprise, her hands frozen in her hair.
"For once, no," continued the Doctor, solemnly, helpfully pulling her hands down from her hair.
"You can't go saving the universe with curly hair!" she exclaimed, jumping off the bed to unplug her curling tongs and preparing to pack them away.
"Why not?" demanded the Doctor, lazily watching her, "I have before."
"I know, I've seen the pictures... But not like this. And with your big hair, it'd just be... weird. And so girly. And..."
"I'll tell you what you are," pouted the Doctor, still casually leaning back on the bed, "You, Rose Tyler, are hairist."
"Hairist?"
"That's what I said."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He sat up and leant forward: "I mean that you are unwilling to acknowledge the possibilites of people attempting other hairstyles. You're prejudiced." Then, looking very smug, he leant back again.
"I am not prejudiced!" exclaimed Rose, feeling outraged, despite realising how ridiculous his claim was, "I'm just saying that I don't think really curly hair would suit you."
"And I'm just saying that I would at least like to try."
The Doctor folded his arms and regarded Rose, mournfully.
"Oh no," groaned Rose, watching his dark eyes pleading with her, "Do not pull that expression on me."
"What expression?" asked the Doctor, innocently, still looking horribly hurt. And irritatingly adorable.
"The big puppy dog eyes. You know." The Doctor merely continued to watch her as she attempted to continue packing up the curling tong equipment, testing whether they had cooled down enough to put away. Until she suddenly threw it all back on the bed and sighed, elaborately.
"Fine." She said, curtly, turning on the Doctor, "You win."
"You have an awful lot of hair equipment," observed the Doctor, curiously, as Rose continued working on his hair. "What other stuff have you got?"
Rose laughed, knowingly. "Oh no, you are so not finding out. Ever."
"Fine," accepted the Doctor, simply, "if you won't tell me I'll just have to go through your room. When you're out."
"As if you'd even recognise any of it," scoffed Rose, concentrating on the curlers.
"Excuse me, I think a genius like me could work out some beauty appliances."
"Trust me," grinned Rose, "this stuff is way out of your league. Anyway, we've been through this before: you have no right to go through my room."
"It's my ship!" complained the Doctor, jerking his head so that his neck touched the curling tongs. "And you just said I didn't need to knock before entering your room."
"Serves you right," said Rose, acknowledging the Doctor's wince, before gently rubbing the sore spot. "Um, the knocking thing was sarcasm, Doctor. And you know, there is such a thing as privacy. But because I doubt you will ever understand that, I think I'll just tell the TARDIS not to let you in my room."
"Again, my ship. What on earth makes you think she'd take your word over mine?"
"Oh, I dunno. But the fact I've never hit her with a mallet must count for something."
"Oi! She doesn't work as well as she used to and sometimes it's necessary to-"
"Wallop her with a mallet?" supplied Rose, sarcastically. "Honestly, you're like those blokes who whack the TV set when the screen goes fuzzy."
"Please don't insult my intelligence," sniffed the Doctor, looking pained.
"Someone needs to," smiled Rose, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, "Else you won't be able to move with such a huge ego. Which would make running away very difficult."
"You are so rude. Anyway, even if the TARDIS wouldn't let me in, I'd just have to wait till you fell asleep... and then sneak in..."
"Stop it," admonished Rose, rapping him on the top of the head, "that's really creepy."
"Really?" asked the Doctor, looking delighted, "Am I doing creepy?"
"Yes," answered Rose, disapprovingly, "Slightly too well."
"That's funny, I didn't really think I was properly suited to creepy. Menacing, yes, but not creepy..."
"Well," said Rose, releasing his last bit of hair and leaning back to assess the look, "You certainly are with curly hair."
"What?" demanded the Doctor, leaping up off the bed, "Let me see." He bounded over to the mirror, eagerly, while Rose began shaking out the cramp in her hand.
"Ah," he said, as he was confronted by his new, curly reflection. "I think I might see what you mean, there..."
"Mm hm. You know, someday, you are going to learn to listen to my judgement." advised Rose, carefully collecting up all the hair apparatus that had become scattered all over her bed. "And you won't thank me for it, of course, but it will save silly hair disasters like this..."
"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," interrupted the Doctor, still transfixed by his reflection, "My hair is curly, after all..."
"Oh God," groaned Rose, "don't tell me you're starting to like it."
"Like it? Rose, I love it! Could I possibly borrow those curly-wurly things?"
He hastily ducked as Rose threw a big, fluffy cushion at him.
"No? Ok, fine. If you're not prepared to share, I'll just have to get my own..."
Ok, guys, please let me know if these are... still worth writing. Drops in reviews are fine, but I just want to make sure that anyone at all is still enjoying the insanity...