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Fill-Challenge 349 (DW)
May. 17th, 2024 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
romanajo123 (I listened to part of Time Reaver for voice references. I originally had it as "hummingbird cake" before realizing that it wouldn't be something normally had in the UK- it's a regional thing (and delicious! ;)) . Also, "laundrette" is the UK word for "laundromat." I checked )
Donna surveyed her ruined clothes. " You know, these are gonna take forever to clean. And I still haven't found the laundrette onboard the TARDIS." She felt the sticky white substance oozing through her sleeves.
" Haven't seen the laundrette for a good century. But" The Doctor licked his finger, then gave an impish grin. " It's not toxic. It's cake! Oooh, carrot cake too. He hasn't used that one yet."
Donna tried twisting around: the manacles binding her to the wall still gripped tight. " You're taking this well. " She frowned. " I thought you were taking me home and for a quick cuppa, now you're over here going on about what kind of cake just happens to be dumped on us?" She made a frustrated noise as she tried to wriggle out again, her hands still sticky. " Hang about, what do you mean? You've actually done this before?"
The Doctor inspected his brown suit, tarnished with nuts and icing. " Yeah, a few times. Well... more than a few actually. Don't really know why. "
"Can't you just sonic us free? And what, who's done this? That Restam bloke that locked us in here? "
The Doctor feebly reached for his pocket. "Nope, can't reach it. Still, step up from -----" He stopped, frowning. " You aren't meant to remember that." He said, in nearly a whisper. " Right then! Donna, any ideas on how to get out of this? " He licked what he could reach of the icing from his sleeve.
" Sorry, Spaceman. I happen to be dieting. "
Donna surveyed her ruined clothes. " You know, these are gonna take forever to clean. And I still haven't found the laundrette onboard the TARDIS." She felt the sticky white substance oozing through her sleeves.
" Haven't seen the laundrette for a good century. But" The Doctor licked his finger, then gave an impish grin. " It's not toxic. It's cake! Oooh, carrot cake too. He hasn't used that one yet."
Donna tried twisting around: the manacles binding her to the wall still gripped tight. " You're taking this well. " She frowned. " I thought you were taking me home and for a quick cuppa, now you're over here going on about what kind of cake just happens to be dumped on us?" She made a frustrated noise as she tried to wriggle out again, her hands still sticky. " Hang about, what do you mean? You've actually done this before?"
The Doctor inspected his brown suit, tarnished with nuts and icing. " Yeah, a few times. Well... more than a few actually. Don't really know why. "
"Can't you just sonic us free? And what, who's done this? That Restam bloke that locked us in here? "
The Doctor feebly reached for his pocket. "Nope, can't reach it. Still, step up from -----" He stopped, frowning. " You aren't meant to remember that." He said, in nearly a whisper. " Right then! Donna, any ideas on how to get out of this? " He licked what he could reach of the icing from his sleeve.
" Sorry, Spaceman. I happen to be dieting. "
