"It's no use!" says Rory, running his hands through his hair in frustration (he leaves traces of cerulean at his temples).
"We can do it," Amelia says, soothing and reassuring. "We just need a bigger box, is all. And we need something other than cardboard. And I think it should be a darker shade of blue, too!"
They'd liberated various boxes from the rubbish bin and, under Amelia's strict supervision, Rory had cut out a door and meticulously traced the panels and words. Then she'd decided he was going too slowly and dumped blue paint over it, leaving him to scramble for towels so the paint didn't run all over the carpeting.
"We'll never get it to stand right again," he laments. "Look at it, it's leaning all wonky now."
"There, there," she says and hugs him tightly (Rory hides his blush). "We'll go have some tea and come back with clear heads, alright?" He nods and allows himself to be dragged down the stairs at lightspeed.
"Why," he says around a mouthful of chocolate biscuit, "can't you just have a normal spaceship? You know, all round and silver and stuff?"
"The TARDIS," Amelia tells him furiously, "is not a normal spaceship, Rory Williams. It's special."
"What's so special about it?"
"It looks like a police box! And it has a swimming pool and a library and—it just is, alright?" she sniffs curtly. "Maybe I should get someone else to help me." They chew in silence for a moment.
"You know," Rory says slowly, eyes on his shoes, "Ms. Owens just bought a new refrigerator. That'd be an awfully big box."
She breaks into a grin and grabs his hand. Rory grins all the way down the street and back.
worker bees (1/1)
Date: 2010-11-09 12:26 am (UTC)"We can do it," Amelia says, soothing and reassuring. "We just need a bigger box, is all. And we need something other than cardboard. And I think it should be a darker shade of blue, too!"
They'd liberated various boxes from the rubbish bin and, under Amelia's strict supervision, Rory had cut out a door and meticulously traced the panels and words. Then she'd decided he was going too slowly and dumped blue paint over it, leaving him to scramble for towels so the paint didn't run all over the carpeting.
"We'll never get it to stand right again," he laments. "Look at it, it's leaning all wonky now."
"There, there," she says and hugs him tightly (Rory hides his blush). "We'll go have some tea and come back with clear heads, alright?" He nods and allows himself to be dragged down the stairs at lightspeed.
"Why," he says around a mouthful of chocolate biscuit, "can't you just have a normal spaceship? You know, all round and silver and stuff?"
"The TARDIS," Amelia tells him furiously, "is not a normal spaceship, Rory Williams. It's special."
"What's so special about it?"
"It looks like a police box! And it has a swimming pool and a library and—it just is, alright?" she sniffs curtly. "Maybe I should get someone else to help me." They chew in silence for a moment.
"You know," Rory says slowly, eyes on his shoes, "Ms. Owens just bought a new refrigerator. That'd be an awfully big box."
She breaks into a grin and grabs his hand. Rory grins all the way down the street and back.