- "I hope you’re happy."
- "I can’t believe you talked me in to this."
- "I have an idea…"
- "What the hell did you do?"
- "Did you do this?"
- "You look better in that than I did."
- "Is it supposed to do that?"
- "I’m pretty sure I like you."
- "I’m pretty sure I don’t like you."
- "How do I do this?"
- "Why are you taking so long?"
- "Have you seen my pants?"
- "Was it something I said?"
- "Can you zip me up?"
- "I love yooo-ur hair."
"Now, s’that five billion languages with the TARDIS’s help or can you actually, properly speak five billion fluently all on your own? Anyway, who wants to carry a rock around in their pocket? Pink or orange or grey, all a rock’s gonna do is lay around wherever you put it. No talking, no purring, no anglin’ for being petted, and you can’t cuddle a rock. Could swim with an otter or something.”
"I didn’t know these even exist," he says, popping two biscuits into his mouth at the same time. "I’m glad that they do, though." How he isn’t showering her with biscuit crumbs is the proof of his inhuman ability. "If only we knew what the brand is so we can get more…"
She snags one of the remaining biscuits, taking a small nibble whilst he manages to somehow (miraculously) eat two at once without covering her in crumbs. An amused smile in place, Rose cants her head to the side thoughtfully. “Y’know…you could just ask your Secret Santa where he or she got ‘em. Bet they’d be happy to help you out on that one. How’d you even get a Secret Santa in here, anyway?”
[text] What do you mean, have I ever thought about glasses?
[text] I don’t need them, if that’s what you’re asking. They’re nice, I suppose.
[text] I dunno, if you can’t see I’m sporting a pink nose, you might ought to look into them,
"When you say you burnt it, are we talkin’ about the sort where there’s nerve damage and scarrin’ and hospitals or should I go grab the box of plasters an’ some cold water?"
Rose rolled her eyes, an exaggerated, oh-so-long suffering sigh escaping her. ”Fine, I get it. No otters. Seriously, though, a rock isn’t a pet. If you think those count, we’ve gotta work on your vocabulary.”
'Course I am! Just…which bit was it you're wantin' me to finish, again?
She looked down at the object in her hand, then back up at him, an uncharacteristically cool smirk turning her lips. “Mm, that is the question, isn’t it? There’s loads of things I could do, but how to decide, how to decide,” she drawled, circling him slowly. One might almost say predatorily.