Sorry, WriteFury. I didn’t get that fanfiction crossover you requested done…

However, I did write something.

This was spurred on by a love of vanilla, listening to PianoGuys, and an appreciation of simple things.



            It was one of those talks that they’d started before the Doctor regenerated (in this case, long before) and finished after.

“What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?” Rose asked suddenly, out of the blue. Unsurprised, the Doctor looked her over for a long moment before answering.

            “Vanilla,” he said. Rose smiled.

            “Of all the flavors in the universe… vanilla?”

            “Oi! Don’t knock it!” the Doctor protested. “When you’re as old as I am, you’ll appreciate vanilla too. What’s yours?”

            “Chocolate,” Rose said, licking her lips.

            “Well, it makes sense,” the Doctor said.

And that was the end of it, at the time.

Now, counting her blessings, Rose remembered this: The one place she remembered best, of all the alien places they had gone, and she remembered this one: a small café in Soho, but a café with the best milkshakes in the world. (Or so the Doctor had said.)

They walked up to the door, side by side and arm in arm, just a pair of friends out for a stroll. A tiny bell jingled as the door opened and closed again, and the waitress, a slim young Asian woman, greeted them with a smile. They obviously weren’t recognized, Rose thought, but it was clear that the Doctor, at least, had been here before. Glancing at him, she admitted to herself that he had changed.  A lot, she amended mentally.

            They sat down at a table with a bouquet of daffodils and violets set in a small, graceful vase and pansies embroidered on the table cloth. Rose ordered a grilled cheese, the Doctor ordered leek and potato soup, and when they finished their meal, the waitress brought over two milkshakes—one chocolate, the other vanilla.

            Rose grinned mischievously at the Doctor, who raised a finger in warning. “Don’t start.” He absentmindedly nudged the whipped cream on top with a spoon, dropping the cherry onto his discarded plate, and tasted his milk shake. Rose, still grinning, started in on hers. The Doctor suddenly smiled mischievously back at her and asked her to take a sip of water. Then he offered her a second straw, stuck into his milkshake. Rose laughed, convinced that he was just playing a practical joke on her, and accepted.

            The flavor that exploded in her mouth was unlike anything she had ever tasted before. Rich and complex, with hints of sweet spiciness, and completely lacking any of the sour or tart off-notes that she remembered as a part of the vanilla extract that Jackie had always used. Rose blinked in surprise. “Wow. What is that?”

            “Vanilla,” the Doctor said, smiling. “The ethanol they use to make the extract leaches all the goodness out of it. This comes straight from the bean; they simmer the beans gently in milk then scrape them, and this is what you get: straight vanilla, with just a touch of nutmeg. Do you like it?”

            “Oh my gosh,” Rose replied. The Doctor smiled, raised his milkshake, and clinked glasses with hers.

            “To lovely things in unexpected places.”

            “Absolutely,” Rose replied.

Please tell me what you think! 😉

(Written to the PianoGuys’ versions of “Rolling in the Deep” and “O Fortuna.”)