#dimension hopping rose tyler

[whoficky]

Until Morning

Rating: T

Pairing: 10th Doctor X Rose Tyler

Notes: I'm a sucker for reunion fics and I've been playing around with this idea for years now. After much procrastination, I figured the best way to get me to finish writing the thing was to jump in and start posting. Hope you like it!

 

Work Summary: As a weary Doctor, Martha Jones and Jack Harkness prepare to take on the Master, they find their hideout isn't as secure as they thought.

In a burst of blue light, a dimension hopping Rose Tyler finally finds the Doctor, but time is still not on their side.

What if you only had one night to spend with the love of your life?

Chapter 1

The rumbling in Jack’s stomach interrupted his attempt at hacking into the Master’s digital database.  He glanced up to see if Martha had heard, and sure enough, she was looking at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Bit hungry?” she asked from where she was perched on one of the chairs they’d scavenged. 

“More than a little,” Jack acknowledged as he leaned back for a stretch.  “God, I’d kill for something hot and fried right now.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Martha sighed, “I’m so hungry I think I’d even eat Mum’s cooking.  And she’s never met a vegetable she hasn’t boiled into mush.”  Jack chuckled along with her, but neither of them really had their hearts in it.  

It had been a long, rough day for both of them.  

Was it really only this morning that Jack had finally caught up with the Doctor again?  He tried to calculate the hours, but it was as much of a hopeless task as it had always been when time travel was involved.  He hadn’t slept or eaten more than half a protein pack since he’d hitched a ride to the end of the universe, and being immortal unfortunately didn’t prevent him from hunger pangs or the affects of sleep deprivation.  If he listened to his body, he figured it had been about a day, Earth time.  Two at the most.     

The fact that he was already loosing track of his usual twenty-four-hour cycle wasn’t surprising.  That was typical when adventuring with the Doctor.  That man sucked you right into a different sort of reality.  Running for their lives and helping the last sentient life in the universe seek Utopia was par for the course.  Despite a complicated history the Doctor and Jack had needed to work out, he’d been having a hell of a good time.  At first.

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But then the bumbling professor Yana had opened up an old pocket watch and everything had gone to hell.   In some ways it was a miracle - another survivor of the Time War.  But out of all the billions of refugees who could have survived, it’d had to be the Master - an utterly insane Time Lord who’d stollen the TARDIS, taken over the government, and captured Martha’s family.  The poor woman was beside herself waiting to learn what had become of them.  Jack knew it had killed her to run away when her parents were being hauled into that van.  He could relate.  His own sort of family, his Torchwood team, were MIA and his guts clenched when he thought of what the Master had done to them.   Even the Doctor could barely hide how all this was pushing him towards that edge he always danced around.  Jack had seen him go over it only once before, when they’d thought the Anne Droid had vaporized Rose Tyler.  He never wanted to see his old friend go there again.  The problem for all of them was that the Master had shown himself to be very good at hitting them where it hurt.  

So, here they were - holed up in this abandoned warehouse.  Hunted, anxious, and left with limited time and resources.  The Master had had eighteen months to put together a government takeover and whatever other schemes the madman had planned.  Jack doubted the three of them even had days to come up with a way to stop him.  It was very likely that humanity was on the brink of peril.     

Jack was so distracted by his thoughts that he almost flinched when Martha spoke again.

“Have you found anything?” she asked, getting up to look over his shoulder at the computer screen.        

“Almost there, I think,” he reported as he pushed his unease aside to resume working on Martha’s laptop.  “Tosh is usually the one to do this kind of thing, but I’m not too shabby at it.”   

“Tosh?” Martha asked confused.

“Oh, she’s part of my team at Torchwood.  Great with computers.  Gets along better with tech than people most of the time…And, hang on…BINGO!  I’m in!” Jack leant closer to the screen as he searched for various key words in the database.  “Oh yeah!” he said with relief, “Torchwood Four was sent off to the Himalayas.  Well that explains why they wouldn’t pick up the phone.  But hey, I’ll take it!  Better sent on some wild goose chase then mixed up in all this at ground zero.”  The knots in his stomach loosened a fraction as he plowed into a new search.

  “Aaaaand…” he said to stall as he clicked through a few folders, “Here we are, Martha!  Looks like Mom, Dad, and Sister have all been taken into custody for ‘questioning.’  They aren’t hurt though.  Just in custody.  See there’s some video footage.  And…” he scrolled down to make sure, “No mention of Leo,” he winked at her.

Martha seemed to take heart from that, “Guess he’s not as daft as I thought!” she laughed.  “My god, I’m talking about my brother on the run.  How did this happen?  And where is the Doctor?  He said he’d be right back.”

“Still setting up a security perimeter, I guess.  Though he’s certainly taking his time about it.”  Jack had the suspicion the “security perimeter” was really more an excuse for the Doctor to get some air and collect his thoughts.  God forbid the Time Lord showed an emotion in front of the humans, Jack thought with a smirk.        

“Maybe he can get some takeout while he’s at it.  I’m starving,” Martha plopped down on top of a large crate next to the fire they’d started in an old barrel.  

“So we’re back to food again?” Jack asked, shooting Martha a playful look to try and ease the lines of tension on her face.     

“Oh, I don’t know,” Martha chuckled, “I’m caught between fantasizing about it and trying to think of anything else.  Same goes for sleep.”

“Yeah I -” 

A flash of blue light illuminated the warehouse and the sharp sound of static filled the air.  Jack’s body reacted without thought, his training taking over as he leapt to his feet and moved into position to protect Martha.    

“Stay back!” he hissed at her as he stepped forward and pulled the gun from the holster at his hip.  The Doctor had disarmed it hours ago, but the intruder emerging from the crackling light wouldn’t know that.  It could still be a handy negotiating tool.  

“Hands up!” Jack barked as the light faded to reveal a humanoid who was still facing away from them.  His brain, now cleared from the fog of exhaustion, took a mere fraction of a second to catalogue the threat.  The figure was small, dressed in contemporary clothes and had shoulder length bleach blonde hair. He though he saw a flash of metal, maybe a small weapon strapped to her belt, but her hands were empty.  The figure had stumbled when she first appeared, but now was standing completely straight with her hands in the air.  There was something familiar about her posture though…

Then she spoke. “Jack?” 

He nearly dropped the gun when he heard that voice.  

But…it couldn’t be.  It was just traveling with Doctor again - she’d been on his mind was all.  He was tired and hungry and his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Who’s asking!” it was more a command for identification than a question.

“Oh my god!  Jack!” the figure turned around and this time Jack did drop the gun in favor of the blue and yellow blur that ran into his arms.

“Rosie?” he said amazed as his arms automatically folded around her.  His brain that had worked so quickly moments earlier slowed down as he tried to process this.  It was Rose.  Rose Tyler.  Rose Tyler had appeared out of nowhere in a supposedly secure building and was now in his arms hugging him hard enough that he’d be worrying about breathing if he was still mortal.  This wasn’t supposed to be possible.  The Doctor had said…ah, but then this wouldn’t be the first time the Time Lord had underestimated her.

“Oh god Jack, I’ve missed you!  But how are you here?  I thought you had di-,” seeming to catch herself, Rose stepped back out of his embrace, folded her arms, and looked him over.

“When is it for you?” she asked cautiously.  Looks like she’d kept her time traveling skills sharp, he thought grinning.

“Long after the Game Station,” he replied.  Just from a quick once over, Jack could tell that this Rose was a little older and a lot harder then when he’d seen her last, so it must have already happened for her too.  Still, a little caution wouldn’t hurt.  “And you?”

Rose stared at him in astonishment shaking her head slightly, “But Jack,” she said, “How are you here?  On Earth, right?  That’s where we are?  Oh Jack, you died!  The Daleks…”

“Yeah well, didn’t stick,” he shrugged, “Takes more than a fleet of pepper pots to kill me.  Although, I mostly have you to thank for that, sweetheart,” he winked.  “And as for why I’m here, well that’s a long story.  But the short of it is, I used my vortex manipulator to go back in time and then the damn thing burned out. Been looking for you and the Doc ever since.”

Rose’s face fell, “So we left you?  On that ship, all alone?  Jack, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey,” he said resting a hand on her shoulder, “You didn’t know.” And it was true. She hadn’t known.  Jack wondered what story the Doctor had told her to make her think he’d died.  He wondered how much she knew about her part in it all.   “And hey,” he assured her, “I’ve done alright for myself, don’t worry.”    

 She nodded and offered him a small smile, “Good Jack, that’s good.” 

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something.  “The Doctor…we got separated,” she admitted, eyes drifting away from his.  “I have no idea where he is, Jack.  I’ve been looking for him too.  For so long…” she looked so tired and Jack wondered what she’d been through in that parallel universe.  

“Yeah, well I may be able to help you with that.”  Her eyes snapped back to his as he continued, “Me and the lovely Miss Martha Jones here,” he gestured to Martha who was still standing a few steps behind him, “are hiding out in this stinking old warehouse because we are currently number two and three of Britain’s most wanted.”

“Two and three…” Rose said slowly, working it out, “and…Number One?”

“He’ll be back any minute,” Jack said smiling, overjoyed to be the person who got to give her the news that her search was over.  It looked like it had been a rough one for her.      

“Jack,” she said half laughing and shaking her head in astonishment before leaping back into his arms. He swung her around a few times until he faced Martha who had remained very still and quiet the last couple of minutes.  

“While we’re waiting on his Time Lordiness…Rose Tyler, meet Martha Jones.  Martha Jones, Rose Tyler.” 

Rose turned to face Martha.  Jack held his breath, wondering how this would play out.  There was a tense moment as both women sized each other up before Martha stepped forward, offering her hand, “Good to meet you,” she said perhaps a touch too formally, “The Doctor talks about you all the time.”

“He…he does?” Rose took Martha’s hand, but glanced back at Jack as if for confirmation, “He mentioned me?”

“Er…yeah,” Martha said stiffly, “Won’t shut up about you sometimes.”

“I…I didn’t think he’d…,” Rose began before breaking out in a wide grin as she gripped Martha’s hand in a firm shake, “Good to meet you too, Martha Jones!  I bet you’ve had a time of it, keeping those two blokes in line.  How long have you all been traveling together?”

“Er…” Jack’s heart really did go out to Martha as she struggled to keep her composure.  “Well, first it was just me and the Doctor - that was for, oh I don’t know, bout a year?”

“It’s hard to keep track,” Rose sympathized.

“Yeah, it is,” Martha agreed, “And, well, I just met Jack actually…”  

Before she could finish, a rain-slicked Doctor bounded through the doors already jabbering, “Alright, that should do it.  This is now a surveillance free zone!  We’ll be able to keep here safely until…”

Jack could tell the exact moment the Doctor noticed Rose.  If he lived to be five-billion years old, he was sure he’d never forget the utterly gobsmacked look on the Time Lord’s face.  

[princess-pine-cone]

[gingerteaonthetardis]

the thing about me is... i will write little vignettes. putting rose tyler in situations and whatnot. via dimension hopper, naturally.

this takes place right before that ending scene in the garden in the giggle. rated g, gen. rose-centric, guest starring the best dad, shaun temple. to read on ao3:

the happy landing

The scrapes and aches of the warzone she left behind—a world falling out of orbit, a catastrophic end after eons of civilisation—are fresh, and so are the smudges around her eyes. Tears still mingle with days-old mascara. And yet, when she jumps again, it's into the most beautiful summer day she can imagine.

She doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t even know where she expects to be. But the sky is scrubbed clean by recent rain, the forgiving soil dark beneath her boots. In her periphery, all is green.

Her first breath is dizzyingly rich, verdant and sultry with growth and flourishing. Not even the lingering taste of ash can taint its wholesomeness. As she sucks in oxygen like she's been starved of it, her legs give way with the force of her headrush, and she manages to catch herself against a nearby stone wall.

She is in a garden, somewhere.

Ivy tickles her fingertips, and she wants to dig her hands into it. Wants to fall to her knees and bury herself in this clean, perfect dirt. Instead, she takes several more measured breaths. She swipes away her tears and stands straight. And when she finally feels she must, Rose moves.

The garden is sprawling, bigger than the kinds she’s seen attached to posh city houses, so she can guess this must be the countryside. A countryside, anyway.

All her senses—even the ones she's only just begun to explore—tingle with the sense that this is right, this is Earth. This is home. But she pins down fledgling hopes before they can take flight. She’s been wrong before. Can’t be too careful.

Her nose pricks with the realisation that there's a fire somewhere close; she mistook it, at first, for the staleness of the world she's just left behind, but this is a warmer, more cheerful fire. It sizzles with a different kind of burning. A barbecue, her nose identifies before her brain can properly catch up. Someone is close, and cooking outside.

Her stomach pangs with hunger. The last thing she can clearly recall eating was a ration bar, guiltily nicked from a bunker on her way to the last human outpost. That was more than a day ago. Possibly longer.

As she walks through the expansive garden, following an emergent trail of smoke, she toys briefly with trying to identify the flowers she sees: there are so many, a vivid patchwork, and they'd certainly tell her something about where she's landed if she knew them. But she never had the chance to become a green thumb, in her past life or this one. She recognises the plants only vaguely, pausing at intervals to tip her nose toward one open bloom or other.

The sweet scents tickle her nose until she sneezes. It's loud, ricocheting all over the stone, echoing in the big open sky.

Rose goes perfectly still.

Over the garden wall, she hears a voice. “Hello?”

Wincing, she follows the curve of the wall for a few more steps, but the path has turned to gravel, and each crunch just makes her more aware of her own noise.

There's a scraping sound, probably tongs or something over a grill. “That you, Mel?” It sounds like a man. “If it is, you've come too early. Sylvia won't let me open the wine ‘til the brisket's done, and I can't get the brisket done ‘til I manage to scrape this infernal tofu off the rack. No idea how you’re s'posed to barbecue the stuff—it's like glue!”

By the time he's done talking, she's had time to round the bend more fully, where she comes upon an open wooden gate, waist high, looking in on another smaller garden.

It's a lovely, sequestered place, more tame and shaded than the relative wilderness she's wandered so far. There's a kind of pergola up overhead, laced through with vines. Grapes hang from them in bunches. And she's never been a particularly religious person, but she is imaginative, and this is not totally unlike how she used to picture the Garden of Eden.

Except for the barbecue, of course.

And the man in an apron that says Kiss the Cook, tongs in hand, staring blankly at her.

“Hello,” she says, giving a little wave. She tries and fails to imagine how she looks to this stranger, with tear tracks still down her face, coated in another planet’s dust.

“Hello.” He doesn't seem particularly suspicious of her. More like… curious. His eyes are dark brown, and kind, and observant, too. He looks like someone's father.

“Sorry, I was just… I was on a walk, and I got a bit turned around. What street is this?”

The man snorts. He looks less like someone's father and more like Mickey when she's bothering him now. “Oh, I dunno, probably la rue Something-or-Other. France, my wife says, she wants a little cottage holiday in the south of France. Mind you, none of us speak a word, and I need a map to find the nearest petrol station, it’s embarrassing! Would never happen to me in London.”

“France,” she repeats, smile blooming in wonder. “This is France?”

“Where exactly did you walk from?” His laugh is less baffled than she might have expected.

“Long way off,” she replies. “I'm on a sort of… journey.”

“Ah,” the man says wisely, with a shake of his tongs at her. “Gap year, is it? You're on walkabout. You lose your duffle?”

She nods. “Fell in the sea.” The lie comes easily, because it’s something she supposes she would do. Or something the Doctor would do, she thinks wistfully. Get caught up in an adventure and lose all his gadgets to the depths of the Mediterranean.

“Oh, that's rough luck. No offense, though, but don't say anything like that too loud near my daughter—it’s my worst fear, honestly, my Rose wandering off with nothing but a pack and a map.” He gives a visible parody of a shudder. “Not that she's exactly the type, you know, but kids change as they grow up, don’t they? You can never tell.”

Her smile only brightens further. So he is a father. And a good one, far as she can tell. She can tell by how his eyes crinkle up.

She asks, “Your daughter's called Rose?” He nods, and really, what are the odds? “So am I!”

The man isn't quite finished in his examination of her, that much is clear, but at the sound of her name, his eyes undergo a further softening. He sets his tongs aside and rubs his hands together.

“That's a funny coincidence,” he says. Then, in another moment, he seems to settle on something. “Look, why don't you join us for dinner? My family's all here, and I don't know how long you've been walking, but you're a pretty long way off from anywhere. I'm Shaun, by the way,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile at his own perceived rudeness. “Shaun Temple.”

Rose doesn't hesitate a bit. She is drawn by the scents of home, by a home more home than home. The effortless clarity of the sky, and the bees buzzing mildly... It’s like paradise.

She begins to feel every moment like the past few days of blood and loss and darkness are really going, gone, slipping off her shoulders, leaving her almost—very nearly—light.

“It's lovely to meet you, Shaun,” she says. It’s true. He is lovely to meet. She’s sure his wife will be just as lovely, and his daughter Rose, and whoever Mel is. “I'm Rose Tyler.”

And she steps into the garden.

[xawkward-ariesx]

Because it hurts

“They’re people?” “They were, until they had all their humanity taken away… All emotions removed.” “Why no emotions?” “Because it hurts.”

She thinks about that sometimes over the years. After everything. After the walls have sealed them universes apart. After she sees the Doctor one last time but only to say goodbye, to tell her that this is the end, that she can never come back. After everyone moves on and carves a space for themselves in this new world that had left a gap just for them.

She thinks about the Doctor stood before a cyberman’s head as he told her, “An old friend of mine. Well, enemy.” She thinks about the way he couldn’t distinguish between the two for a moment. She thinks about the way he’d spilt about old monsters and the world he’d burned to destroy them. She thinks about Sarah-Jane, an old friend he’d never been able to speak of. 

She thinks she understands some of that now. She wonders if he keeps silent about her the way he did Sarah-Jane. Thinks she’d understand that too. She thinks about Sarah-Jane telling her the Doctor had been called home by the Timelords, how she’d never seen him again. She thinks about the way the Doctor never talks about them; talks about the beautiful planet, the trees, the grass and the two suns it used to orbit.

She thinks about the Doctor screaming at the Nestene, trying to bargain with it even after it’s shown itself to be hostile. She thinks about the Doctor and how his pity for the Gelth had made him blind to their intents. She thinks about the way he wears his scars and if she’s one of them now, or if he keeps her hidden away with his memories of people. She wonders if he still lets his pain and his anger fuel his need to save another planet, another people. She wonders if it still burns a hole through his hand the way there’s a burning in the back of her mind.

She thinks she understands him in a way she never could before as she fights to prove him wrong. Words and numbers falling from her lips in a way that reminds her of Jack, remind her of him. Things come to her easier these days, things she’d never understood before when they’d gotten lost in techno babble back before. Before she’d gotten stuck. Before Jack had stayed behind to fix the Earth. Before they’d left him alone, despite their best intentions.

Things slot into place for her now in a way that she doesn’t understand how but comes from the golden, burning place in the back of her mind that she knows shouldn’t exist. Should be locked behind fortified doors. Shouldn’t still be glittering, but hollow and cold. Shouldn’t leak secrets of the universe into her ears. Should leave her clueless and frustrated, grasping at dead ends in a way that’s expected of a girl off a council estate that never finished her A levels. A girl that had followed a stranger to the stars and picked up a few more along the way because she hadn’t understood then; but she’d seen the same lonely shadow in him that she’d felt in herself.

But she understands things now that she shouldn’t. She understands dimensional travel. Understands the cracks in the walls and the scars in the void that never completely heal if you press just right. Understands the physics and theory better than anyone of her time period should, let alone her. Understands why monsters are easier to face than the ones you’ve lost. Understands why there had been locked doors on the TARDIS in the same way she can’t bring herself to decorate the blank room she’s found herself occupying. 

And she wonders if the fire ever burns out for the Doctor in the way the universe feels a little too heavy for her sometimes. She wonders if he sees her in the way she hears his words in her mouth. And the shadows she’d seen him seem heavier in her own eyes these days. She thinks about her mum’s words on that fateful day.

“You even look like him.” “How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah.” “You've changed so much.” “For the better.”

She thinks about how it had filled her with pride at the time. She thinks about how she’d thought she was fitting into this new world that he’d shown her. How she’d become more than just another nineteen-year-old girl from the Estates. She thinks about how she doesn’t bother to fit into this world. How she doesn’t try to force this world to make space for her where there is none. She thinks about how that sentiment has become even more true in his absence. She does look like him. From the way she carries herself to the way she carries her scars and her secrets, lets them make her someone else.

She thinks about the worlds she’s seen dying as the stars blink out of existence across reality as she fights her way back to him. She thinks about the way she’s let every single one of them harden her when she couldn’t save everyone. She thinks about the nonchalant way the Doctor had spoken of the empty Earth before the sun had swallowed it whole. She thinks she understands how he’d focused on the survival of the species of the planet living amongst the stars instead of fixating on the planet he couldn’t save. She thinks about the lone survivor of a planet with its twin suns and the little blue box that remains its planet’s only reminders of its existence after the universe moved on.

She thinks about all the people they hadn’t been able to save. About how every single one of them had burned deep inside of her, fueling a resolution to do better next time. She thinks about how the first few fires had burned her before she learned how to put up the appropriate armour up. She thinks about the Doctor and his own armour. She wonders what taught him to put walls up between himself and the fires.

But mostly she thinks about the ways the years slip by her unnoticed, despite her mortality and the way she feels as though she’s never getting any closer to what feels just out of reach. And she wonders if it’s the same for him. She wonders if his immortality weighs on him the way her humanity weighs on her. She thinks she understands now the adamant way he’d spoken of humanity and how it hurts, the way there’d been no room for argument. The conviction in his words as a man burned too many times.

[badwolfrise]

[captainswan618]

recently had a very important realization

[soulless-angel25]

Doctor Who Femslash February, Day 22 Prompt- Crossover @doctorwho-femslashfeb

Rose was stuck, stuck in a universe that was not her own. With a dimension canon that was taking longer to charge since the energy source was different here so the canon needed time to transfer the energy into something useable.

Sadly, she couldn't become a hermit in this universe. She needed a source of income and with her unique powerset it meant that joining a guild would probably be the best for her.

Enter; Fairy Tail. It was much easier to join than she would've initially thought. She just walked in, said she wanted join, they'd had her fill out a few papers, and then she got her guild mark in her chosen spot and color. (A deep blue on her collarbone.)

And it seemed that once more, she was in another universe where there wasn't another version of her. It was strange but a fact that she'd grown used to. There never was another version of her. Either because Pete and Jackie never had any children, they did but Jackie miscarried or the child died young, or they did have a version of her but it was a guy.

Rose was more then used to this fact. Just as she was used to people flirting with her, like Loke did. She knew he never meant any of it, could see it in his eyes which carried a weight of untold regrets. A weight that she was familiar with, after all, she saw it every time she looked in the mirror.

So she bantered with him, maybe flirted a little. She knew that in the end it would only lead to pain on one or both of their ends. After all, she could see the timelines of those who have lived a long time or will live a long time. Though Rose doesn't use this particular ability often, especially with those she chooses to interact with, too much knowledge of what will come can be dangerous.

And so it's easy to fall into a role, another mask to add to her ensemble. Because she is nothing if not adaptable. Act younger then she is, alter her appearance just a bit to make her look a bit older then what Bad Wolf made her look. Kind, but not naïve. There are a million and one things to make up this mask. The mask of Rose Prentice, 24 year old who has an unknown magic but is so incredibly sweet.

She's talented at making masks, it comes with living for hundreds of years and she wonders if the Doctor was like that too. If he's still like that, masking who he really is. But she knows he didn't do it with her, the TARDIS made sure to leave just a small enough link between her and the Doctor to know.

But that's not important. What is important is the fact that Natsu brought a new potential member in who looks so fascinated by the guild. Rose allows herself just the barest peek at the girl's timeline. Enough to gather how she should act around her and treat her.

She tilts the drink back in her hand, just a small bit of alcohol left in the cup as she stands. The girl- wait no, woman. The woman is talking with Mira about how to become part of the guild and Mira easily gives her the forms.

Rose casually sits next to her as she fills out the form. Neat handwriting a strike contrast to most of the guild's nearly illegible scrawl. She watches as the lasts of the forms are filled out. A neat swish that was clearly taught to her and had her memorize it until she could do it without thinking ending the paper.

Rose sipped on the remains of her drink casually as though she wasn't paying attention to the woman beside her. And yet she watches her out of the corner of her eye as she nervously waves down Mira and hands over the forms. Rose can practically see the thoughts running through her head as Mira takes the forms back.

And this is the perfect chance to introduce herself, "Hello."

Best to start simple, and yet the woman still jumps, it makes Rose furrow her brow as she quickly thinks back to what she'd seen. Until- ah.

She alters her voice to be softer, more kind. Rose lets part of her past self bleed into her voice, "Sorry, I uh- didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to let you know that Mira is just going back to archive the submission and make sure that most things check out. Oh! I'm Rose by the way, Rose Prentice. You are?"

It's a way for the woman to become comfortable and Rose can tell she's done a good job by the way her shoulders release the tension that was in them. The tension that seemed to be at home there, "I'm Lucy. Does she uh, have to check everything?"

Lucy's voice tilts up at the end- nervousness Rose realizes so she rushes to reassure her, "Nope. Say if you only put first name but no last, she won't ask. After all, we've got more then our fair share of people who don't want their past to find them.

A relieved sigh slips past Lucy's lips as she seems to become more energized, "So! What kind of magic do you use?"

Allowing a smirk to make itself on her face she says, "Don't know. My magic doesn't have a name, far as anyone can tell I'm the only one with this type." let a tinge of bitterness slip into her voice at the end, make it seem like that upsets her. Then change the subject, "What about you?"

Lucy, seeming to sense the fact that she wished to change the subject happily explains that she using Celestial Magic. How she makes contracts, and when Rose inquires about if the spirits are free to create a contract or can they refuse? Lucy seems to immediately know what she's asking and is in vehement protection of the fact that if a spirit does not wish to make a contract then they are more then free to refuse and people who force contracts are horrid.

Maybe this dimension won't be so bad after all.

[camellcat]

Summary: If it were the Doctor, she'd almost say he was absentmindedly playing with the chain of her dimension cannon — fingers gently sliding up and down, tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place, rinse and repeat — but she was viscerally aware that every move they made had more meaning than she could even comprehend at times. Rose swallowed hard and felt him bare his teeth, pleased.

----

Dropped straight in the middle of a conversation (or more accurate, argument), just a snapshot of the first time Rose says the Master's name aboard the Valiant

(full fic below if you'd rather read on tumblr! ↓)

She barked out an incredulous laugh. "If you really think he'd let you anywhere near his TARDIS then you really are crazy, M—"

Rose cut herself off and his face lit up in a twisted sort of glee. He pressed her harder against the wall, most definitely leaving bruises on her back and shoulders that she'd be feeling later.

"Say my name," he taunted. She tucked in her lips as feeble show of defiance. The smirk he was wearing disappeared and he leaned in, crowding her.

"Go on," he crooned, voice mockingly soft as he commanded her. Hot breath blew across her cheeks and she resisted the urge to squirm, refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting to see her nervous, even if she already knew that he could tell.

"Say it," his lip curled as he hissed the words. Her eyes squeezed shut without her permission, recoiling in the only way her body thought it safely could.

She had planned on keeping her mouth shut, ready to simply wait until it was time for her to be sent back, but then she felt one of his hands loosen their immobilizing grip on her shoulder and slide just beneath the collar of her shirt. If it were the Doctor, she'd almost say he was absentmindedly playing with the chain of her dimension cannon — fingers gently sliding up and down, tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place, rinse and repeat — but she was viscerally aware that every move they made had more meaning than she could even comprehend at times. Rose swallowed hard and felt him bare his teeth, pleased.

"Say my name."

Slowly, she opened hazel eyes and leveled a piercing glare back into his darker own, trying not to go cross from how close their faces were.

"Master," she choked out in disgust. Brown disappeared behind pale lids and he gave her an overdramatic shiver, one she fought hard not to replicate. Bumping his nose against hers in faux familiarity, he let go of the chain, as if rewarding her, and she had half a mind to see if she could bite him quick enough that he wouldn't be able to catch her.

He leaned away from her before she could follow through, as though he could sense what she had been contemplating, and she would've snickered if she wasn't palpably seething.

"Now then," the Master began with a lightheartedness neither of them possessed around each other, ever, "that wasn't so hard, was it, Rose Tyler?"

He rolled her name off his tongue with an amount of venom she'd never actually heard from him before, matching her one-for-one. As though he didn't really mean it. As though he really was just matching her.

Great. Another frustrating, power play game she didn't know the rules to.

When she didn't respond, he cocked his head and pitched up his voice in what, she supposed, was a poor imitation of her. "No, Master, not at all! H—"

A muffled beeping sounded off from around her chest and he stopped. She took an instinctual glance down toward the sudden noise, before snapping wide eyes back to him when she felt the pressure on her begin to let up.

"Well," he sighed, as if disappointed she would be leaving him, "I guess that's our time, up."

He took a few steps back and she carefully followed, just far enough to get her back off the wall. The Master raised an amused eyebrow at her caution and she scowled in return.

"Until we meet again?" He said. Though it was phrased like a question, they both knew there would be a next time, whether it was wanted or not.

"Not if I can help it," Rose spat furiously, pulling the cannon from her shirt and slamming the button right in front of him.

The air seemed to crackle from where she had disappeared, and he lingered a few moments longer.

"Oh, Rose." He really did try to say her name all low and menacing — aiming for that classic, villainous drawl — but he couldn't help the way manic giggles seemed to burst free from behind his lips. "You can't!"

Spinning on his heel, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and strolled down the corridor, away from the main bridge area and down. The methodical clacking of dress shoes on pristine, smooth floors morphed into echoed clangs of metal grating as he got to lower, less used parts of the ship. Reaching a seemingly innocuous hallway among the many that weaved around and about, he took a sharp turn into an almost unnoticeable offshoot. Swinging open a pair of plain, silver doors, he gazed upon the Doctor's groaning, mutilated TARDIS, and grinned.

That stupid ape of a girl didn't have a single, damn clue.

[kelkat9]

Flailing!!!! I cannot wait!!!!

[whoficky]

Until Morning

Rating: T

Pairing: 10th Doctor X Rose Tyler

Work Summary: As a weary Doctor, Martha Jones and Jack Harkness prepare to take on the Master, they find their hideout isn't as secure as they thought.

In a burst of blue light, a dimension hopping Rose Tyler finally finds the Doctor, but time is still not on their side.

What if you only had one night to spend with the love of your life?

Chapter summary: Rose has a decision to make.

Chapter 3

After a moment the Doctor broke Rose’s gaze to address Jack and Martha, “Er, we need a minute.  Could you…”

“I’ll go get dinner,” Martha mumbled, ducking out of the warehouse before anyone else could speak.

Jack looked after Martha’s retreat and sighed, “Theres an office in the front.  I’ll work on figuring out the Master’s game plan in there,” he said, picking up the laptop and heading to the office with a sad look at Rose and the Doctor.  “Call me when Martha gets back.  I’m starving.” 

 With fading footsteps and then the click of the office door, the Doctor and Rose were alone.

“Have a seat?” the Doctor offered, referring to a few beat up chairs and crates situated around a small fire.

“Yeah,” she said numbly.   

He led her over to their makeshift camp and then took a seat facing her.  They were so close that their knees touched and he kept a tight hold on one of her hands.

While he collected his thoughts, she stared at their entwined fingers and focused on the warmth she felt as his thumb rubbed against hers.  How was it that in the span of a minute or so she’d had her wildest dream fulfilled only to be crushed at its impermanence?

  “You’ll notice…not my usual digs,” he finally said, glancing around at the grimy building.

She looked back up to meet his eyes.  “Yeah, bit of a downgrade, this,” Rose tried to smile, tried to match the forced lightness in his tone.

“Yep.  I’m sort of…on the run.  Public Enemy Number One,” he began to explain.  And damn that Time Lord, he somehow managed to sound a little proud of the designation.

“Yeah, I heard,” she said, “Jack told me.”  

Rose thought back to a horrible white room with dread, “Torchwood again?” she asked.

The Doctor shook his head, “No, not this time, no.  They’re largely out of commission now anyway.  No, it’s…”

He trailed off and seemed to decide on a different angle.

“You know I was the last Time Lord…” he said finally.

It took only a moment to pick up on his careful phrasing and her heart sped up, “Was?” she asked.

“Yep,” he popped the P.  “Was.  Found another survivor.   At the end of the universe of all places.”

“But Doctor, that’s good, yeah?” Rose asked cautiously, “It means you aren’t the last anymore.  You don’t have to be…alone.”  As much as she wanted to give him forever, to be a true partner to him, she knew she only had a short human life to offer.  But if there was another Time Lord…the thought comforted her as much as it made her burn with jealousy.      

“Eh, I wasn’t alone, Rose Tyler.  I had you, for a time.  Better with two,” he smiled and squeezed her hand, “And a few friends after that.  But I know what you mean.  It should be brilliant, finding another Time Lord.  And that’s why this is so…” he sighed and ran a hand down his face, “bloody complicated.”

“The Time Lord you found - it’s the Master bloke you mentioned, isn’t it?” Rose asked with a sinking feeling.  

The Doctor nodded.

“And he really has it out for you?” 

“Yep.” 

“Why?  Did you know each other…before?” she asked.  She was hesitant to directly reference Gallifrey or the war.  Talking about his past could be like navigating a minefield.  It was best to keep things vague and let him decide how much he wanted to say.       

“Oh we go way back, me and him,” the Doctor sighed, “We grew up together.  He was my first friend.  My best friend…when we were young.”

Rose cocked her head, “And now he’s out to get you?  Why?  What changed?”

 The Doctor leaned back in the chair and ran a hand through his hair in agitation, “Oh, time, politics, childhood trauma.  The usual,” he said flippantly.  “Time Lords weren’t a barrel of laughs in general, you know.  They committed their share of atrocities in The Time War.  And the Master…Well by the time Gallifrey fell, he was among the worst of them.”   

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, giving his hand a little squeeze.  She tried to reconcile this new information with the peaceful, beautiful world the Doctor had told her about one night over hot chocolate in the TARDIS library.  Though, once she thought about it, she supposed both versions could be true.  Earth in her time was sort of the same.  There was plenty of beauty out there, plenty of lovely people, but there was also far too much need and cruelty and greed.  

“Thanks,” he smiled sadly at her before shaking his head, “I tried for so long to bring him back from…from madness I guess you could call it.  But all he could ever see it as was me trying to hold him back.”  

“Dumbledore and Grindelwald,” Rose mused, and then instantly wished she could take it back in case he thought she was making light of things.

But the Doctor just nodded with a small smile, “Pretty much, yeah.  You’ve read the seventh book then?”  When they’d traveled together he’d insisted on her waiting the full two years instead of “cheating” by jumping ahead to the book’s launch.  She’d only given in because he promised her a live reading and signed copy if she waited and “did the thing properly.”  Then she had been torn away from him before they could take that trip.  

“Nicked it on one of my dimension jumps,” Rose confessed, then gently brought him back to the issue at hand, “As you were saying…”

“Right,” the Doctor said, “Anyway, in the end, all his madness and rage sort of became fixated on me.  When he wasn’t busy wreaking havoc across time and space in general, that is.”

“Then you’re not safe either, if he’s back,” Rose worried.

“Eh, it’s not as bad as you’d think.  I’m certainly not in as much danger as you’d be,” the Doctor assured her.

“How’s that?” 

“Well, he doesn’t want to kill me.  Not really.  He doesn’t even really want to hurt me, physically I mean.  At least not in a permanent way.  What he wants…” the Doctor thought for a moment, “What I reckon he wants is to break me.  To make me like him.  He’d love nothing more than to tear the Universe apart piece by piece with me at his side.”

“Oh,” she said lamely, far from reassured.

“And now he’s started his latest campaign on Earth.  He’s infiltrated your government, has amassed vast amounts of power, probably has access to nearly any of Earth’s resources he could wish for…I don’t know what he’s planning, but I do know it will be catastrophic.”

“Then you need my help,” Rose said firmly. 

The Doctor looked at her solemnly, “Not this time,” he leaned forward to cup her face, “You are the bravest person I know and bloody good in a crisis, Rose Tyler.  You’ve saved me more times then I could count.  But it wouldn’t be like that this time.  With the Master it’s a whole different game.”  He dropped his hand to her knee and sighed.  

“If you stayed, there wouldn’t be anywhere you could hide from him.  And once he had you, he’d kill you, but…not quickly.  He’d use you to manipulate me, to get me to do whatever he wants.  And I honestly don’t know if I could stand up to that.  Not that it would matter for you.  Even if I did all he wanted, even if I became his bloody slave, he’d still kill you in the end.  That’s who he is, Rose. That’s what the Earth is facing right now. I need to stop him.  He’s my responsibility.  And I can’t do that if he has you,” the Doctor shook his head, “Can you see now? Why you have to go back?  He can’t get his hands on you, Rose.  Because I know he would’ve done his research on me.  He’d know how I -” The Doctor took a deep breath and let the sentence hang for a second before continuing, “He knows that if anything happened to you - Rose, it would destroy me.”

She sucked in a breath at the emotion she saw in his eyes.  He’d never been so open, so frank with her.  She saw the choice he had to make, saw how much it killed him.   

“But I could help,” she pleaded, selfishly.

He shook his head and repeated, “Not this time.” 

 And with a horrible sinking feeling in her gut, she knew he was right.  

Rose felt her face crumple and went easily to him when he pulled her onto his lap.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and curled into him with her head tucked under his chin.  For a long time they just held each other, both silent apart from her uneven breaths as she fought back sobs.  

She couldn’t imagine what the Doctor was feeling right now.  It wasn’t just losing her again - they shared that pain.  It was everything - being on the run, his friends in danger, having to face the memories of the war, finding another survivor only for it to be the Doctor’s old enemy…and Rose could be wrong, but she got the feeling that the Doctor also loved his old friend at the same time he feared him.  What a mess, she thought.

“A mess indeed,” the Doctor said.  Apparently she’d said that last bit out loud.  God, she was exhausted.  

Rose uncurled herself enough to meet his eyes for one last try, “So what if I stayed?  I could help, I could - “

“Rose, please,” he all but begged, “If this were anything else, if I were facing anything else, I’d never let you go.  I promise.  But it’s the Master.  He’d hurt you.  He’d hurt you over and over again.  And he’d make me watch.”

Rose shivered at the certainty in his voice.  She thought about how she’d feel if their positions were reversed.  How she couldn’t let herself be just another burden to him.  How she couldn’t, she’d never put herself before the billions of people who needed him.   

“Ok,” she finally said with bitter resignation.     

“Thank you,” he drew her back to his chest for a tight embrace. “Thank you, Rose.”  

She returned his desperate grip.  From where her face was pressed into the damp wool of his coat she said, “But not forever.”

“What?” he asked, loosing his grip so they could face each other again.

“I said, it’s not forever,” she replied, “I’ll go back to Pete’s World, yeah, but only until you sort this like I know you will.  Then I’ll just have to come find you again.”

“And Rose Tyler, I don’t doubt you for a second,” he smiled at her, but she could see the lie beneath his words.  He couldn’t let himself have that hope.  She let it go, knowing that she’d just have to hold on to it for the both of them.  

They held each other for a long time.  Rose basked in the feel of his arms around her and took slow deep breaths of his scent.  She wanted to catalogue every aspect of him to carry with her until they could be together again.  She was so focused on him, on the double beats of his hearts and the not quite human time in between his breaths that again, all her surroundings faded away.  She felt like she was in a dream.  A good dream, although there was a nightmare brewing on the horizon.    

When Martha came back carrying a hefty stash of food, Rose was brought back to reality.  After one last squeeze, the Doctor and she untangled themselves and walked over to where Martha was setting out paper plates and opening takeaway boxes.  

[sunniebelle]

This is totally the perfect description of Rose!

https://pin.it/5MBOSKk

[regenderate-fic]

Tell Me, Is Devotion a Gift or a Thief: Chapter 2 (After)

main post read on ao3

Word Count (Chapter): 2,709

The Doctor was in one of the bar’s back rooms, getting ready for his set. Really, there wasn’t that much to prepare for: he wasn’t exactly doing his hair. But it was nice to have a bit of quiet. No one really bothered him here, except the manager who told him when it was time to go on, and sometimes waitstaff looking for extra towels (or for a quiet moment of their own).

No one bothered him, that was, until the door opened and Bill’s head poked its way inside.

“Your old friend’s back,” she said.

The Doctor jumped. He had been sitting in the corner of the room, using his sonic screwdriver to inspect the graffiti on the wall. He hadn’t expected to be interrupted for at least five more minutes. 

“My old friend,” he repeated, pushing himself cautiously to his feet. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Bill.”

“Oh, right, ‘cause you’re a billion years old?” 

The Doctor tried for a smile. He was never sure if he was doing it right. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Bill said. “Does this ring a bell? Blonde girl, way too young for you, was here last month?” 

The Doctor frowned. Why would she come here twice? Surely she would be somewhere else by now, another time, another place. “You must be mistaken.”

Bill shook her head. “Definitely the same girl.” 

“No.” The Doctor felt himself shutting down, preempting the hope he knew would surge in his veins if he didn’t stop it. But he had to stop it. He couldn’t risk talking to her again. He’d said goodbye to her for the last time. “It isn’t.”

Bill shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just thought I’d warn you before you go out there. Considering last time you made a complete fool of yourself.”

“I did not—”

But Bill was already gone.

The Doctor took a deep, shaking breath. In a few minutes, he would have to go out on that stage, sit in front of that crowd, and he wouldn’t be able to help scanning the room for one Rose Tyler. Ordinarily, he was very good at keeping his persona onstage: he’d had decades of practice, after all. But— well. He wasn’t sure how he’d react, on the one in a trillion chance that Rose Tyler was, indeed, in the crowd. He’d never been able to hide, around her. 

No. It was ridiculous to even entertain the thought. Rose Tyler was in another universe, with a clone of himself, and if she was here, either he couldn’t talk to her, or something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. It was selfish of him to have even the tiniest sliver of hope. 

He’d never claimed to be a selfless man.

The door opened again. It was the bar’s manager, there to tell him it was time to go on. He picked up his guitar and slung the strap around his neck, each movement painfully slow, his stomach sinking with dread. He couldn’t go out there. He couldn’t go out there, because either Bill had been wrong, she’d seen some other woman and thought it was Rose, or else Bill had been right, and he would have to hide himself from her for a second time, and either option was impossible to bear.

He couldn’t go out there, and yet he did the impossible fairly regularly, and he’d have to do it now. He couldn’t risk disappointing the bar, after all; he’d been playing here for upwards of fifty years, and they’d always been good to him. It was a point of respect, really, to show up when he was scheduled, to play his full set, even on days when he really would have preferred to be in his office, reading or drawing up a new schematic for one of his side projects or even arguing with Nardole. He had said he would perform tonight, and so he would perform, even if his mind felt like it had scattered on the wind, drifting in a million directions.

He opened the door and stepped out into the bar.

He kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he walked out to his seat. He didn’t look up— didn’t let himself look up— as he sat down, plugged in his guitar, struck the first chord. It blared through the speakers, clear and pristine, and he closed his eyes. He pulled a breath deep into his lungs, and expelled it as the start of a song, his eyes still closed as his fingers moved along the frets. He was lucky, he realized, that he had so many years of practice: his hands and throat knew what to do, even when his mind didn’t seem to. 

He got through a song and a half this way before his curiosity began to eat away at his obstinance. The urge to look up was overwhelming, overpowering, and by the end of the second song, he simply couldn’t bear it. 

His fingers moved along the frets, positioning themselves for the next song. He took deep breaths, steadying himself— 

And then he looked. 

For a moment, he couldn’t see anything. Most of the bar was dark, and although the light on him wasn’t bright, it was still shining in his eyes, preventing him from really looking at the rest of the space. He started his next song, glancing back down at his guitar, and when he looked up again, he could make out the tables just in front of him, the people sitting on stools along the bar, the bartenders and waitstaff moving around in their white aprons. Bill was a few feet away, grinning up at him; he avoided her eyes. 

He looked back down. His fingers were still moving of their own accord, strumming the strings, moving along the frets. It wasn’t his best performance, but it would be passable— with any luck, the audience wouldn’t know the difference.

He looked up again— and for a millisecond, his voice faltered, his fingers slipping on the strings.

She was there.

Bill had been right. Rose was there, and what was more, she was looking back at him. His eyes met hers with a jolt, and he stared at her for a long moment, still playing, still holding the tune. 

No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t talk to her. He wasn’t the Doctor she was looking for. He weighed the odds— there was no way she didn’t know it was him. He couldn’t imagine her looking that way at anyone else. But he couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t risk messing up the timelines any more than he already had. His only option was to get out of there as fast as possible after his set, before he had the impulse to do something stupid like go up and actually talk to her. 

He looked up again. She had a basket of chips in front of her, and she was holding one between her fingers as she watched, an image so endearingly familiar he felt it in his chest. She was smiling, too, not her full-on grin, but a small smile. It almost looked… knowing.

He couldn’t keep looking at her. If he looked at her, he’d want to talk to her, and if he talked to her, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from touching her, and then it would all be over. The timelines would implode, and the Doctor couldn’t justify that. Not even if he really, really wanted to.

It was the fifth time he looked up that he realized she was wearing a different jacket.

She’d been wearing a blue jacket, the last time he’d seen her. She’d been wearing a blue jacket all those years ago, too, when she’d returned to him. It was seared into his mind, that jacket, matched with his clone’s suit, disappearing behind the TARDIS doors.

But this jacket was new. Unfamiliar. Dark brown leather, snug against her body. Wide lapels. Hair falling into the neckline. The Doctor frowned— although, considering where he was, it would be best if he kept his frown on the inside. He forced his expression back to neutral. 

A different jacket didn’t mean anything. He was overanalyzing— he always did. It was practically his job description. Of course Rose wouldn’t always wear the same jacket. She hadn’t back when she’d traveled with him: she’d had a new outfit every day, sometimes twice a day, always a different color scheme. It was foolish to think that, just because the jacket was different, the circumstances would be too.

He looked for just a second longer.

Her hair was falling into the jacket’s neckline. 

Her hair hadn’t been that long before, had it? The last time he’d seen her hair long enough to even touch her collar— it had been just after he’d regenerated. Christmas dinner. She’d had a little braid in it. The next day, before they’d left, she’d gotten Jackie to cut it. 

Was this Rose from that far in the past, then? 

No. She couldn’t be. Could she? He would’ve remembered, if he’d taken her here. And she wouldn’t have gone anywhere without him— not unless Jack had taken her when he wasn’t looking, which was possible, but somehow didn’t seem likely. And why would he have taken her here, and why would she be looking at him like this, and why—

He was at the end of his set. He struck the last chord, the sound of the guitar diminishing into nothing, and tried for a smile. Usually he said something here, some sort of thank you, but not today. Today, he just cleared his throat and stood up, hovering awkwardly for a moment before setting down the guitar and bolting off the stage. 

He’d meant to go directly back into the back room. It was what he usually did, anyway, at the end of a set. His guitar case was back there. And this guitar had been a gift from an old friend; he was very careful to keep it in its case when he wasn’t using it. He really should have been going to get it. But the second he stepped off the stage, he couldn’t move. He caught his arms about to start flailing, and he managed to redirect them to his hair just in time. He didn't see Rose in the crowd anymore— he'd had his eyes on her, but then in the shuffle of getting off the stage and failing to regain his bearings, he'd lost track. Bill was coming toward him— he wasn't ready to speak to her— he turned around—

There she was. 

Her eyes were shining as she looked up through her lashes at him, biting her lip in a self-conscious smile just like she used to. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Rose?” The word came out on a choked-up breath, the syllable barely intelligible. But it was enough: her smile grew, and before he could register what was happening she had flung herself against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. It took a second for his body to catch up with his brain, but once it did, his arms were around her, one hand cradling her head close against his chest. This body wasn't a hugger, as a general rule, but oh, he would've made so many exceptions to have Rose Tyler in his arms again, and now she was here, and it was better than he had dared to hope. 

Until— he pulled away. The timelines. He'd forgotten about the timelines. Who knew what he was messing up, just by interacting with her? His time with her was long over, diverted into another universe. It would have been the height of hubris to think he could ever be with her again. 

“How did you get here?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. 

Her smile settled into a more serious expression, her eyes searching his. “That's a long story.”

He took her in. Her hair was longer, and her jacket was new, but that wasn't it. Something had settled behind her eyes, a cool understanding that he saw every time he looked in the mirror. She was older. “Exactly… how long?” he asked. 

She looked away. “Hundred years?”

“A hundred—” He reached for her again, his hands clutching at the leather of her sleeves. “Rose. How—” But it came to him before he could say it. “Bad Wolf.”

She nodded.

“Oh, Rose.” He could feel the threat of tears at the back of his throat. “What happened to—”

“He was part human,” Rose said, her voice soft. “Specifically, the aging part.”

The Doctor winced at the echo. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.”

Rose shook her head. “It's not your fault.”

“I should've known,” he repeated, although looking into her eyes he found it horribly, selfishly difficult to see Rose’s lack of mortality as a bad thing. 

Rose looked back at him, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Breathless, the Doctor took her in: her slightly-flushed cheeks, her hair falling in her face, her steady and warm gaze. She was old; not as old as him, but he could see it in her eyes, all the years that had piled up inside her. But somehow, she looked exactly the same. Not just on a physical level— he could tell, deep down, that it was her, the same Rose Tyler he’d met all those years ago. 

He reached for her hand, and she offered it, her skin soft and warm against his. For half a second, he worried that his hand might be too rough, but she just smiled. 

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asked, squeezing his hand. “Quieter?”

“Go— yes.” The Doctor looked around. “I’ve just got to get my guitar.” 

Rose squeezed his hand again. “Go on, then.” Her tongue poked out as she smiled, and an immense relief washed over the Doctor. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The Doctor wanted to say something in response, but if he opened his mouth he was sure the tears he’d been holding back would start to fall, and he couldn’t do that, not in the middle of this crowded bar. Instead, he nodded once, and then he dropped her hand and wrenched his eyes away from her. His guitar was still on the stage, and the case was in the back room— he stepped towards the stage, but he didn’t make it very far before Bill blocked his path.

“Told you it was her,” she said, craning her neck to look behind the Doctor. “Who even is she?”

“Old friend,” the Doctor replied. “Like I said before.”

Bill raised her eyebrows at him. “How old? ‘Cause I don’t know if you noticed, but that girl can’t be much older than me.”

“Ah, but looks can be deceiving, can’t they?” The Doctor spread his hands. “I, for example, look young and handsome, when in reality I am very old indeed.”

“Yeah, all right,” Bill scoffed. “Young and handsome. If you say so.”

The Doctor gave her his best glare. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Fine. Monday.” Bill turned on her heel, stepping into the crowd. 

“And don’t be late!” the Doctor called after her, more out of habit than anything. With a sigh, he made his way to the stage, where he picked up his guitar; in the back room, he laid it carefully in its case. When he came back out, he saw Rose standing exactly where he left her; true to her word, she had not gone anywhere. He stepped up beside her, slipping his hand effortlessly into hers, and she looked up at him. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Er— I’ve got a place.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Not the TARDIS?”

“Not at present,” he said. “Although—” He shook his head. “I’ve got so much to tell you, Rose Tyler.”

She grinned up at him. “Me, too.” Her laugh hit him right between the hearts; he had missed the joy she brought him. She redoubled her grip on his hand, tucking her head against his shoulder, and he was sure his smile matched hers as they began to walk together.

[princess-pine-cone]

Serving cunt 3.0

[spaceagesparkledust]

Random Doctor Who hcs Part 2

Martha tries to teach 10 how to cook. It isn’t that he can’t. But he’s also not the best and he needs something substantial in his life. He absolutely hates cooking in 1969 but Martha refuses to do all the work. 

Each moon landing Martha and Ten dressed as different people. It became a competition on finding the most outrageous costume in the TARDIS closets. 

I am a firm believer in Ten and Martha becoming better friends after she leaves. I need this in my life. 

Tentoo and Rose hold hands all the time. All. The. Time. 

Nine walks around the TARDIS without his jacket on sometimes. It freaks everyone out. Rose stares at him a bit too long, trying to figure out if she likes it or not. 

“What” 

“You’ve got….arms.” 

Jack flirts with him about it. Rose says it makes him look soft and Nine decides right then and there he’s never not wearing the jacket again. (This is a lie, he’s willing to look soft when Rose looks at him like that)

Listen listen listen forget the flow of time for a second: Rose, Martha, and Donna all get along like a house on fire. They have the best times. They can and will fly the TARDIS without the Doctor just watch them. 

Rose takes Tentoo to look at animal shelter dogs when he misses K-9. (They wind up getting two dogs and name one K-9.2)

Rose meets Jenny on one of her dimension hops. She never finds out she’s related to the Doctor but keeps thinking she’s familiar the entire time. 

Wilf brings the Doctor home sometimes like you’d bring in a stray cat.

I love the idea that Tentoo takes Wilf’s name. John Wilfred Tyler-Noble.

[soulless-angel25]

Riverrosetober 2023- Day 21, Prompt: Extended Universe

Rose leans back in her seat, in this inn and pub situated who knows where. River beside her, knocking down shots faster than the bartender can keep up with. It makes Rose sigh as she rolls her eyes at River, muttering out that she should slow down.

Apparently, River doesn't like this idea. Made evident by her getting up close to Rose's face, alcohol on her breath as she speaks, "Make me."

There's a glint in her eyes that signals to Rose that she's not fully gone yet. She's gone drinking with River enough to know her tells, to be able to see when she's too far gone to be responsible.

So, Rose replies, "How's a drinking contest sound? I win, you stop. You win, hmm. What'd you like?"

And the moment she poses the question is the moment she knows she screwed up, because in a moment River is more sober than a second ago. And Rose knows that River is about to make sure that she wins.

River opens her mouth, "If I win..." she trails off, making Rose fidget uncomfortably. "If I win I get to take you shopping, spoiling you completely. And, you have to go back to school and get your A-levels."

She leans back with a self-satisfied smirk. As Rose gapes at her, mouth 'what the fuck'.

River raises one of her glasses, calling out to the bartender to get her and Rose the strongest stuff they have available. Rose is pretty sure she sees the bartender mutter something under her breath, before calling out that it'll only be a moment.

Then the drinks are set down in front of them and Rose is severely regretting her decision. But she already made her choice so now she has to deal with the consequences. She knocks it back, wincing at how strong it is.

And that's how it passes, the two of them alternating who's drinking. In the end, somehow, Rose wins their little contest. So she carefully wraps her arm around River, pulling her up to get her to the room she's staying in. She gets her most of the way up the stairs without incident, but then River's legs decide to fully give up underneath her. Making Rose have to fully pick River up.

She gets to the door, and carefully unlocks it before opening the door. On the chair just inside lay Rose's jacket and hopper. She swallows as her heart constricts at the thought of having to leave River. But she needs to find the Doctor, she has to fix the stars.

So as she lay River in the bed, pulling the covers up over her. Rose cannot help but lean over and gently kiss River on the forehead, whispering 'goodbye' before turning away and pulling the blue jacket on. Grabbing the hopper and leaving.

Small tears slipping past her eyes.

[ORIGINAL IDEA BELOW CUT]

OG IDEA:

Rose closed her eyes.

In.

Out.

She tilted her head back and looked at the alien sky above, resisting the urge to let out a scream. Instead she reigned in her frustration and decided that she needed to use it to help her get moving. The stars were going out and she needed to find the Doctor.

Easiest way was going to be asking the locals if they had ever heard of or met anyone who goes by the Doctor. She is fully aware that she might find people who know him, but a different regeneration.

So she starts asking and the first person she gets an answer out of is an elderly woman who says that there's a woman staying at one of the inn's nearby who knows the Doctor and Rose thanks her profusely. Double-checking the name with the old lady.

"River Song, dearie. That's her name."

She goes to the inn only barely registering that it's called 'Bad Wolf Inn'. She looks around trying to spot the woman who should know the Doctor. Her eyes land on someone who fits the description, and as she makes her way over the person's eyes flicker over her briefly before they've widened and focused on Rose.

The woman spins and hops off the table, disbelief coloring her voice, "Rose Tyer?"

Rose nods carefully, "I assume that you're River Song then?"

"Correct," her smile is taunt, as though at any moment it might snap.