As soon as the Doctor gulps down the last of his orange juice and slams the cup on the nearest table, another refreshment catches his eye.
“Cake!” he announces cheerfully.
Rose downs the last of her cup and sets it next to his, then follows on his heels to the tray of the fluffy white of cake decorated with a Union flag of frosting.
Whatever red fruit the jam between each layer is made from, she can only guess how strongly it’s calling the Doctor’s name, as insatiable a sweet tooth as he has.
He picks up the crumby, frosting-covered knife and cuts them both a hearty piece.
“Mmm, that’s brilliant,” he says through a giant mouthful of red, white, and blue.
She tucks into hers as well, and it is delicious – tastes homemade rather than purchased at a Tesco bakery for a few quid.
Vehicles on the small residential road have been completely displaced by celebratory citizens, couples and families alike dancing to whatever tune is on the radio,
something too 50’s for her to recognize.
The Doctor seems content to watch as he shovels forkfuls of cake into his mouth every few verses,
a large grin plastered on his face that widens when he sees an elderly couple dancing or a bloke lifting his partner over his head.
Read the rest via the link in the description!