There's a trick with a knife I'm learning to do.

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

It was yet another sunny morning. On the lake's grassy bank near Frontierland, Una Persson lay stretched out on her stomach on a beach towel, wearing a blue maillot and reading a pristine first edition of Du côté de chez Swann that she'd borrowed from the Doctor. A blue silk caftan lay neatly folded nearby. As she read, she ate an apple, cutting slices off with her clasp knife, and reflected that unnerving though the park's absence of insect life was, it was pleasant to not have to worry about ants for once.

She'd always wanted to read À la recherche du temps perdu, but she'd never had the time. Now, having nothing but Time of a sort and the TARDIS library at her disposal, she reckoned she should take the opportunity. But between the oddly soothing quality of Proust's prose and the soporific warmth of the day, Una soon found her eyelids growing heavy. She took off her sunglasses and put her head down, thinking to rest for just a moment. Soon she was dozing like a cat in the sun, the breeze occasionally ruffling her hair and the pages of the open book, a half-eaten apple and the open clasp knife near her elbow.

((Some small number of days after Una's latest confab with Starbuck. Closed to Una and the Master; of course, as long as they're outside, passersby who might conceivably be in the area could easily catch sight of them, but it's probably best not to interfere.  ^_^))

((ETA: *facepalm* Do I really have to say anything, warning-wise? We should know better than to leave them around sharp objects...))

Comments

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

She stopped, but didn't let him turn her; nor did she let go of the tie. "Thought of it. Decided to stop worrying." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you objecting?"

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

He pointed to himself. "I never object," he insisted, pressing the bottom of one foot against the entrance way, in some parody of a foot pop. "I merely state the inevitable. Where you're concerned."

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"Didn't you tell me once that merely being rhetorical was boring?" Still not turning toward him; she offered a sharp little tug on the tie instead.

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

He couldn't help grinning then. "And here I thought you weren't paying attention to my nonsense." Then he took a half-stumbling step toward her. "Am I a dog on a leash now?"

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"I'd not have gotten where I am if I didn't pay attention, even to nonsense," she replied. She turned a little further, three-quarters of the way but not yet facing him. The dog comment earned a truly wicked grin and, "Would you like to be?"

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

"That all depends on how you treat your dogs," he retorted, stepping in close beside her.

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I'm very good with animals." As he moved closer, she wrapped the tie once more around her hand, shortening the lead, and started to move further into the back of the shop.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

What really bothered him was the expressions on their faces. He'd never seen anyone look at the Master like that before. He'd never seen the Master look at anyone like that, ever. Not even Lucy.

But of course, Lucy and Una were hardly similar -except in that one respect. maybe more; after all, how much did he really know (understand) about either of them?-

From his position by the snack-stand across from where they were standing, the Doctor stood with a bag of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of lemonade in the other and watched her tug him closer, wrap his tie around her hand like it was...

It should probably bother him more that he was not only attempting to eavesdrop but that he was basically putting himself into the position of a peeping Tom. Rassilon, what was wrong with them? -him. what was wrong with him.-

He forced himself to look away, to turn and walk back the way he had come, leaving the bag and bottle on the stand where he had found them. He didn't think he could eat with the tight, hot knot of -actually, he'd probably feel better if it was only- jealousy in his stomach.