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Can't We All Just Get Oolong?

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He was going to do it. He was going to ask her out today.

John Noble walked into Bad Wolf Tea with a purpose, jaw set and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand.

He’d been frequenting the tea house more and more over the past several months, not only for their excellent selection and quality of teas, but also for the stunning blonde who owned the business. Rose Tyler was funny, charming, and could make his heart skip a beat with just one look.

They were, simply put, a matcha made in heaven.

She was standing behind the counter, and shot him a tongue-touched grin as he walked through the door. He liked to believe that smile was reserved just for him.

(It was, he found out later).

His intent to storm to the front of the store and profess his love - er - great fondness for Rose was thwarted when he saw that there was a line.

Not wanting to be rude, he took his place in the back, shifting from foot to foot and hiding the bouquet behind his back. He hadn’t accounted for these extra few moments alone with his thoughts, so by the time John was to the front of the line, face-to-face with the object of his affections, he had himself so worked up that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Will you go out with tea?”

Shit.

“No, no no, what I meant was that...you’re beau-tea-ful!”

Nice going, Noble.

He grimaced and tried once more.

“I just...you’re my cup of tea, Rose.”

Bollocks.

He ducked his head and thrust his hand out, nearly knocking Rose in the face with a bouquet of daisies. She took the flowers gingerly, eyebrows raised.

“When do you want to go out?”

She was smiling when he met her gaze, and he decided that it didn’t matter if she was smiling out of happiness or laughing at him.

(Or both.)

“Hmm. Thursday night works for me,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. “Or we could chai for Friday.”

Her laughter was purely at his expense this time, and he found he didn’t mind it.

“Friday night would be tea-riffic.”

(And it was.)