singillatim | Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

Entry tags:

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

Who: Jopson and OTA + Closed prompts
What: Just post-December and then January things
When: In the dark, dark winter
Where: Lakeside, mostly + a prompt for Milton
Warnings: None! Just nonsense!

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He just looks at him blankly. He's just at the wrong time to understand what that word means, let alone the implication of it.

"Dinosaurs?" he asks, because that's a good place to start.

"Oh! Yes, right, of course — dinosaurs. Big, beautiful, giant reptiles. Well, not all of them giant. Some of them were huge, some were quite small, some flew. They roamed Earth many, many, many years before humans evolved. I'll draw a few for you sometime," he offers. "But this book — well, you'll see there's a reason humans and dinosaurs were purposefully not meant to co-exist at the same time."

Well now he's intrigued by that. He has no idea what to think of such creatures, except perhaps a giant newt-like being, but he is excited to find out.

"Then we should start with this one immediately," he decides, picking up his tea again.

"We should," he's quick to agree, touching the cover again, and looking at the other books. Softly, he says, "This — means a lot to me, Thomas. And you...didn't ask for something for yourself."

Thomas asking for something that would benefit others or be a gift to anyone but himself in some way doesn't surprise him, it's...that it's for him, specifically. He was thought of like this.

"This is for me," he assures him. "Sharing stories with you is the greatest gift I could give myself."

And that's how Thomas is going to phrase it. He was selfish when he asked for the sewing kit, even though he was using it for other people. He's selfish for giving this gift, too.

For him. The greatest gift, for him. He smiles with such fondness, letting out a breath and ducking his head a moment. "Well — I'm looking forward to it. Every word." And one of these days very soon, they'll be able to have fresh bread and jam with a good story.

Thomas leans over against him and brings him into a kiss. "What do you say we get started tonight?" he wonders. "We can read it together?"

"Tea, and my favorite Thomas, and Jurassic Park. Now, that's a perfect evening for me," he grins, stealing another kiss from him. "We could clean up, and — settle in?" He pauses a moment, shaking his head. "No, no, wait, I'll clean up, you settle. You made the tea."

Thomas hums. "You are simply delaying the inevitability of sitting still and settling in," he remarks lightly, but he does stand. "Bring your book when you're ready." He's going to happily finish his tea by the light of the fire.

"Maybe I'll surprise you," he smiles remarks, briefly sticking his tongue out playfully. He does busy himself tidying up, though, he can't help it; work out that bundled energy before he sits for a while. A few minutes or many minutes later, he joins Thomas by the fire, book in hand, getting comfortable close to him.

Thomas rests his head on the Doctor's shoulder, watching his hands on the book. "I am not as quick a reader as some," he warns the Doctor. "So you may be waiting on me to finish the page."

Or to ask clarifying questions.

The Doctor has a tendency to read faster than most, but he wants to be sure of something now. "Now that makes me think — do you wish to read on your own, or I could read to you, or...vice versa?" Now that he says it, he rather likes the thought. Silly, maybe, but — Thomas reading a chapter to him, that would be something. He's never been read to before.

Thomas also likes that idea. It puts them on more even footing, and he gets to hear more of the Doctor's voice with a story that he's reading and cannot get off track about.

Or rather, Thomas will be able to stop the tangents before they begin if they aren't written down anywhere.

"Yes, but you first," he prompts him. "I can already tell I will need assistance with the words."

What the hell is biotechnology anyway?

He is, of course, eager as they go along and the opportunities arise to explain some of the science, or rather the so-called science. Clever little story. Humans and their imaginations!

"Oh, you'll love this," he grins, stretching out his legs a bit, settling and getting comfortable. Evidently the idea of sitting at length is mitigated by a good story they can share together, and Thomas leaning against him. He wouldn't dare move. And so he begins chapter one, with great enthusiasm. The joy is obvious in his voice, though a good bit of that is less about the story and far more about the fact that they have this to share together.

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Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

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