Yay for Joy!
Title: Marmite Rainbows
Fandom: Doctor Who
Notes: Unbetad, crit welcome.
Summary: 'Experience, Rose. That's the name of the game. Experience.'
There's a scientific reason for it, apparently, one that he explains to her at great length; something to do with light refraction and a permeable atmosphere full of a kind of particle that has a name with twenty-three syllables. She made him say it three times, and counted. It sounded the same each time, so it was possible he wasn't making it up. She hasn't quite learned to tell when he's pulling her leg, yet, since he seems to approach pretty much everything he comes across, from a new flavour of crisps in a corner shop in Leicester in 2287 ('Broccoli, fantastic!') to a planet full of things that looked like Dougal from the Magic Roundabout, except the size of elephants and with a tendency to randomly explode (she lost an inch of her fringe , he singed most of his eyebrows) with exactly the same level of cheerful enthusiasm.
He's grinning at her now, as she reaches a tentative hand out. She pulls it back and looks up at him. 'And you're sure it's not going to burn, sting or poison me?'
He nods, his arms folded as he leans against the TARDIS door. 'Sure.'
'Or try to grab me, suck me under or blow up in my face?'
'Rose, Rose, the universe doesn't want to eat you. Well, not most of it, anyway. Go on, take a chance, have some fun.'
She sticks a finger into the rainbow and then quickly draws it back. 'Oh,' she says, as she looks at the flecks sparkling on her skin. 'It is. It really is made out of snow.'
'Told you. It's a well-documented meteorological phenomenon, unique to this planet.'
'All right, Mr Know All, let's not get scientific again.' She lifts her finger to her lips. 'And I suppose it tastes of sherbert?'
'No,' he says. 'Actually it absorbs the taste of the tree sap that covers the ground in this region. Which, again, is unique to this planet but if it had an approximation on Earth it would be, um, let me see, yes. Marmite.'
Rose freezes with her finger still in her mouth, then yanks it out and tries to scrape off her tongue with the sleeve of her jumper. 'You couldn't have told me that first?' she says, when she can speak again.
He grins widely, steps forward and puts his arm around her. 'Experience, Rose. That's the name of the game. Experience.'
She smiles sweetly, slips out from under his arm and grabs a handful of the frozen rainbow. 'Experience this,' she says, as she compacts it into a ball and lobs it at his head.
'Oof,' he says, and gives a little shiver as the coloured snow trickles down the back of his jacket.
Rose laughs and claps her hands, then flops down backwards and starts sliding her arms and legs. She'd seen kids do the snow angel thing on the telly, but there was never really enough snow -- or enough space that hadn't been pissed on or covered in litter -- to try it back home.
She lies still, watching her breath plume up in front of her, and hears him hit the ground by her side. His hand reaches out for hers, and they swing their arms together.