Summary: The Doctor and Evelyn are temporary house mates. The house might not survive the experience.
Notes: Written for lurking_latinist
"Doctor," Evelyn called, with a warning tone, despite him never paying any attention to it. "What have you broken this time?"
"Nothing."
She sighed, put on the kettle on and waited for him to ask for her help. He always did, sooner or later.
They were in a relaxing location. Or would be, if the Doctor was able to relax. He'd been fiddling with the TARDIS and it had disappeared without them. He'd been confident it would reappear within the week. Fortunately, the locals had a reverence for travellers and had loaned them a house to stay in.
Three weeks later they were still waiting. In the meantime, to repay the favour, or perhaps because he was bored, the Doctor had decided to repair every part of the house that he thought needed it. Whether it did or not.
Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her days at the local library. Despite this being another planet, the place was similar in some ways to late 16th century France and she was keen to learn more of their history. Which meant also learning more of their customs and getting to know everyone well enough to find out that attendance at the weekly religious ceremony was mandatory.
Although after the first one, the Doctor was banned from it.
Just as the kettle boiled he entered the kitchen, looking sheepish.
"Tea?" she asked. It wasn't the same as the tea at home, but it was a good enough approximation.
"Oh, er, yes, thank you."
While she made two cups she said no more about what he'd been up to. She'd learnt early on that asking him if he needed help led to him refusing and breaking things beyond repair. Whereas if she waited for him to ask, he eventually would.
It was only when she'd passed him his mug that he said, "I've flooded the bathroom."
While that was not necessarily much of a feat in late 20th century England, they were currently in a place and time that had yet to invent indoor plumbing. What the Doctor and Evelyn called a bathroom was merely a store room that included a bathtub hung on a hook.
How he'd managed to flood it she didn't know. But she did know that if she asked he'd give her a long explanation that she wouldn't understand half of. So she didn't ask. "Have you put down towels to soak up the water?"
He drew himself up straighter. "Of course I have."
Which meant he hadn't.
"I'll go and see if it needs any more," he said in a smaller voice, then took himself and his tea back to the bathroom.
With her mug in hand, she sat at the table to read the paper and see which religion was winning the war today.