somethingofthewolf:
#Some sort of ’70s AU #Studio 54 #celebrities and high-powered Wall Street types and a woman named Rose Tyler who works as a cocktail waitress #and a man named the Doctor who’s come over from London on business#and the fact that he isn’t leering at her like the other men in the club #he doesn’t swat her ass or call her ”sweetie” #and when he leaves she finds an enormous tip on the table #except it’s in pounds #and she stands there in the club with the music pounding around her #staring at the bills #and thinking about how much she misses home #and she turns around trying to catch a glimpse of the bloke with the pinstriped suit and the brown hair #hoping maybe he’s gone onto the dance floor instead of left the club #But he’s gone #She goes home and normally she crashes — falls fast asleep #but tonight she lays awake and thinks about that bloke #thinks about home and London and all the things she didn’t realize she was missing so much #and how she should’ve asked for that bloke’s number #And when she comes in for her shift two nights later #he’s there again #and he grins at her and orders a succession of club sodas over the course of her shift #and as soon as she’s off he asks her to dance (via gallifreyburning)
#GO ON (via somethingofthewolf) —— Okay.
He isn’t dressed like anyone else in the club — more like a banker from the ’50s, pinstripes and short collar. For some reason, even though it’s outdated, it works on him. His tie is loose, the first few buttons undone on his shirt. His hair, which is shaggy and had been hanging down over his eyes, has gotten increasingly mussed as the evening has gone on; every time Rose walked by his table, brought him another club soda, they’d chatted. And when she’d walked away, he’d shoved his fingers into that wild mess of hair, tugged on it thoughtfully as he watched her navigate the crowd with her tray and drinks.
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