#like when i start a ten + donna experience i expect to be giggling my ass off a ton before the massive emotional weight drops

[marlenacantswim]

i genuinely think that one of the most heartbreaking things about the doctor who original novels is the shocking number of ten and donna stories that separate the two of them straight out the gate, and then proceed to keep them apart for like half the story. like, really? the two most fun characters to write? with the dynamic that's one third banter and two thirds unassailable bestfriendship? you're gonna keep them apart for the bulk of the narrative? this is why the economy's in shambles.

[veritaea]

Heisenberg X Reader: The Assistant

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 ''Shut your damn hole and don't be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.'' You're standing behind the pew your boss, Lord Heisenberg, had been seated on. The new captive that was brought in moments before squirms as he struggles to adjust to the light.

 All four lords and Mother Miranda are gathered in this room, all to decide the fate of the man who stumbled into the village. As Heisenberg's assistant, you didn't expect to be tagging along, but he insisted.

 The meeting quickly turned heated, as they often did. Lady Dimitrescu's dark gaze flickers over to you before returning her attention to Heisenberg.

 ''Quiet now, child, adults are talking.'' Unlike most, Heisenberg is not the least bit intimidated by Dimitrescu's tall form. The two bicker back and forth before the room shudders.

 ''SILENCE.'' Mother Miranda's voice booms through the space, silencing all with ease. Her dark wings spread out, drawing all attention to her, and her only. You feel the prickling eyes of the Lycans appear from all corners of the room, making unease settle in your stomach.

 Without thinking you step closer to the pew. Heisenberg catches your eye for a second, raising an eyebrow before turning back to the captive.

 ''My decision is final. There will be no argument,'' Miranda continues. ''Remember from whence you came.''

 Even in the dimlit room you notice your boss' smirk as Miranda entrusts the prisoner's fate to him. ''Thank you,'' he smugly says, earning a scoff from Dimitrescu.

 ''Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting,'' his voice raises, ''and now, let the games begin!''

 He then crouches down to the captive. ''Let's see what you're really made of, Ethan Winters.'' He raises his hammer before bringing it back down, hard. The floor shivers as the chains that held Ethan to the ground shatter. Lycans advance on the man as Heisenberg maliciously starts counting down.

''Ten.'' The captive looks around nervously.

''Nine.'' A Lycan passes from behind you.

''Eight.'' Donna Beneviento's doll giggles darkly.

''Seven.'' You grip the back of the pew.

''Six.'' The Lycans close in.

''Five.''

 Right before Heisenberg reaches zero, Ethan jumps down a hole in the floor, effectively staying ahead of the Lycans pursuing him, for now.

//

 The road back to the factory is slippery in the cold air. You're struggling to hold the supplies Heisenberg made you carry back up, which also made clear why you were invited to come down to the meeting in the first place.

 ''What was that about?'' His voice sounds from in front of you, puffs of smoke raising from his cigar. ''You looked like you were scared of the Lycans just now.''

You huff, rearranging the stuff youre carrying to get a better grip. ''I am not afraid of the Lycans.''

 He turns around suddenly, making you almost walk into him. You make eyecontact with him as he removes his glasses, stepping closer to you.

 ''You shouldn't be,'' he says. You feel your heartbeat quicken as he reaches over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

 His eyes linger on yours for a second longer, before turning cold. ''Moreau knows what happens when his Lycans touch what's mine.''

 You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as he turns back and resumes his path up to the factory. You catch the supplies you were holding just in time as they start slipping to the ground.

 Your mind is racing. What just happened? You couldn't tell if this was simply Heisenberg claiming ownership over you as his assistant or, something more? You shook your head quickly and hurried after your boss, who was halfway to the factory in the time you had been lost in your own head.

 The deafening sounds coming from within the factory hit your eardrums as you make your way down to Heisenberg's main facility. The sight of half mutilated human bodies didn't phase you anymore, as you had spent years stuck behind the metal walls. You dump the supplies down on a spare metal tray on wheels, making quite the ruckus.

 ''Careful with that!'' Heisenberg shouts as he rounds the corner. He had taken off his long coat as the constant blowing of steam from running machines kept the place warmer than comfortable. You look away quickly as he catches your eye again and focus your attention on sorting the new supplies quickly.

 Once you finish with sorting, you push the tray towards your boss. He stops it with one hand, not even bothering to turn around. He looks up at you curiously as you pass by him, heading towards one of the malfunctioned experiments you were tasked with fixing.

 ''What's up with you today?'' he sneers, clearly getting impatient.

 You force yourself to meet his eyes, feeling your stomach shift as you do. He's leaning on one of the metal counters, crossing his arms in front of him.

 ''Nothing's up with me, sir,'' you answer curtly, quickly returning your attention to the task at hand.

 His eyes burn holes in the side of your head as you work, his own project laying untouched. As you zone in on your work, you forget he is watching you. Your fingers move quick, years of Heisenberg's teaching making you proficient in recreating his work.

 The machine roars back to life as you finish tightening the last screw, causing you to jump away from the table. It sputters for a moment, then lies back down on the table, its gears softly turning. You feel a smile form on your face as you admire your finished work. It is then you remember you were not alone in this room.

A slow clapping fills the room. ''Well done,'' Heisenberg praises, but his tone holds a challenge. He had taken your confusion for attitude.

''Learned from the best,'' you smile, trying to ease the tension.

''One could say...'' Heisenberg says, his words trailing off as his gaze meets yours.

Your breathing hitches for a second. ''Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?'' You ask, changing the subject.

''Sir,'' Heisenberg repeats, his voice low. He pushes himself off the counter and slowly walks towards you. ''I like it when you call me that.''

He puts his cigar out on the counter you're leaning against, having trapped you between himself and the machine you just brought back to life.

''Sir,'' you begin, ''we- we can't.''

He takes a step away from you. ''Says who?'' he shouts, exasperation in his voice. A chunk of metal flies through the air, landing on a picture of Mother Miranda.

''Says her?'' he asks loudly, leaving you wide-eyed and staring at him. ''Or them?'' The piece of metal slices through the other three lords with one flick of his wrist. ''I don't give a damn about what they think.''

You regain your composure. ''It's the situation. That- That man, the father of the baby-''

''What about him?'' Heisenberg cuts you off. ''I've dealt with him. It's done.''

''How do you know?'' You ask. Heisenberg whips around with force at your words.

''How do I know?'' he repeats, his voice laced with anger. ''I sent him down through the tunnels to die. Nobody gets back from that. Nobody.''

''I didn't see a body.'' You say, and a heavy silence follows.

He walks back towards you slowly. Every step he takes echoes throughout the room, slightly shaking the metal on impact. You back away against the counter, unable to see his eyes from underneath his hat.

He lifts his head as he nears. ''You know, darling,'' he says, his voice so low you wouldn't have been able to hear him if he hadn't been so close.

''I liked it better when you were calling me 'sir'.'' A shiver runs up your spine as he whispers in your ear.

His hand trails up your arm, barely making contact but enough to send goosebumps all over your body. He rests his hand on your collarbone before breathing deeply.

''I am not-,'' he says, his finger tracing your jaw, ''letting any of them-'' his thumb finds your bottom lip, pulling it down slowly, ''tell me what to do.''

His face so close to yours you can feel his breath on your skin. He stops, a second, and looks into your eyes. You nod slowly, and that was enough. His hand finds the back of your neck before he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss was rough, as you would expect, filled with longing you didn't know was there before.

His other hand grips your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your own hands find their way into his unruly hair, tugging softly as he groans. His hat falls to the floor, forgotten.

He removes his hand from your hair and with a flick of his hand the experiment you just fixed crashes to the floor. He lifts you up on the counter, spreading your legs to stand between them. You softly moan as his hands trail up your thighs, his fingers greedily caressing the skin above the waistband of your pants.

He pulls away softly, both of you out of breath. His lips move down to your neck. You gasp softly at the touch, your thighs squeezing down on him.

He pulls you in for another short kiss, smirking as he pulls away. ''There's a good girl,'' he whispers, his hand softly gripping your neck. He puts a loose strand of hair behind your ear, like he had done hours before, then moves away.

He picks up his hat from the floor, suddenly letting out a laugh.

''What's so funny?'' you ask, still a bit flustered.

He rests his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. ''I've found a way to shut you up.''

You bite your lip as he walks away. Getting down from the counter, you notice the experiment you had just fixed laying in pieces on the floor.

''Oh, by the way,'' Heisenberg calls out. ''You're gonna have to fix that again.''

___ 14/06/2021

Reposted, original deleted.

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[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

whumptober day 10: crying

slightly more straightforward h/c this time!

summary: set after the ric grayson/joker war arc in nightwing. 

dick’s been missing for two months. jason finds him first, but it’s just the first step in finding how very, very lost dick really is.

warnings: SPOILERS for the aforementioned nightwing arcs. plentiful cursing. moderately graphic descriptions of injuries.

crying

The last time Jason received a family-wide SOS to help them rescue Dick, the guy was a twice-brainwashed mess whose brain was being pulled in opposite directions by the Court of Owls and the fucking Joker, and that was after said brain had been shattered by a fucking sniper’s bullet. (And a period of being left to fend for himself with a broken brain in between, but Jason doesn’t really like to think about that.) This time, he doesn’t know quite what to expect. He can’t imagine things have gotten even worse than the last go-around, but then again, Jason knows from personal experience that there’s no end to the list of ‘things that are worse than dying’.

Besides, the alert came from Babs. And, in quick succession, Tim, Bruce, Duke, and Cass. If nothing else, Jason is curious.

Dick disappeared from Bludhaven about two months ago. The reason the oh-so-precise Bats have the word ‘about’ in that statement is because nobody can really pinpoint the exact date it happened. Donna can recall dropping by his place ten weeks ago. Tim maybe exchanged a few emails or text messages a few weeks ago but didn’t really get alarmed about Dick not responding to his messages until the radio silence stretched for over a month. Bruce had his trackers on (that bastard) but Dick hates them and is known to destroy the ones he finds. And they can’t even really depend on reports of Nightwing sightings in the city because having his brain knocked around and pulled apart like taffy means Dick takes regular holidays from patrols if he’s not feeling particularly steady that day. (Look what being sensible and having a smidgeon of a sense of self-preservation got him.) And the CCTV in his apartment complex was shit, so. 

It’s almost like it was a planned thing, like he was kidnapped, but honestly it’s how things go and how they’ve gone for a very long time: they drift in their own worlds for long periods until an event brings them together, and then it’s back to being scattered across the country again (or sometimes the world, or sometimes the galaxy). Dick is more prone to this than most; he’s probably gone undercover more than any of them, and he’s lived the longest on his own as well. 

Even after the clusterfuck that was the last year and change, it’s nothing new. And if that isn’t the most fucking depressing thing that Jason’s had to think about today, it turns out that not only have the Family figured out where Dick is, but that Jason is the one that’s closest to his location. 

So here he is, shivering, on a particularly icy night on the Gotham docks, scoping out the warehouse where Dick’s supposed to be. It’s not very well-guarded, which either means there’s nothing in there and this is a massive waste of his time, or that it’s a trap and what’s waiting on the other side is a fucking bomb or something even worse. It’s not a great situation to be in either way, and Jason’s got half a mind to have Tim or even Bruce take over--but it’d take too long for them to get there and Jason’s never been fond of the idea of handing over to someone else anything that he could potentially do by himself.

Besides, like he said, he’s curious.

He crouches down at his vantage point overlooking the warehouse and presses the communicator in his ear. “Two guards in front but nothing else; the place is practically abandoned. Infrared picking up three people inside.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another, bracing, ready to spring. “I’m about to go in.”

Tim grunts. “I’ll be there in fifteen, give or take a couple.”

“Twenty,” Bruce says. Then: “Hood, you--” An uncharacteristic pause, and Jason can feel the sudden, uneasy chill across the entire comm channel. Bruce clears his throat. “Be careful. Assess the situation first. Don’t engage alone unless it’s an emergency.”

There’s a thanks for stating the obvious on the tip of Jason’s tongue, but something about the gravity of the situation, the mildest quaver in Bruce’s voice (he’s been missing for two months, god, two months) has him say, instead: “Roger that.”

Jason makes quick work of the guards in the front, leaving them in unconscious heaps on the ground before he creeps in. They’d hardly put up a fight, which just makes Jason’s stomach twist in anxious knots. The anxiety is made worse by the complete lack of resistance when he’s actually inside: there are only two huge, cavernous rooms, and one of them has two of the three people that he’d detected. They scatter as soon as they see him and Jason considers chasing, but now his nerves are stretched so taut that he thinks he’s going to vomit if he doesn’t see Dick now--

The night-vision on Jason’s helmet catches a figure sitting, slumped, in the corner of the room. A chain connects a manacle around its ankle to the wall, and another between the same wall and… a collar around its neck. Jason’s blood is already boiling before he steps closer and recognises the figure as Dick. His hair is long and shabby, having grown past his chin, curtaining his face. He’s shirtless but wearing ripped, stained jeans. His hands are cuffed in front of him, the thin metal biting into his wrists enough to leave his hands puffy and slightly purple from the lack of effective circulation. He looks considerably thinner--Jason can just about count the ribs under his skin--and every visible part of his torso is painted in bruises in various stages of healing. And--

--and he’s breathing.

Well, thank fuck. That’s a start.

Jason crouches in front of Dick and presses his comm again. “Found N. Little worse for wear, but alive and safe.”

He ignores the immediate clamour of questions from the others to focus on trying to get Dick awake. He brushes Dick’s hair aside and gently lifts his chin to have a look at his eyes. 

Dick smiles at him. “Hey.”

Jason is beset by an onslaught of emotion that’s part relief, part incredulity and part anger, so much so that he thinks he’s going to fucking burst with the pressure of it. Of course that would be the first thing out of Dick’s mouth--hey--like he’s meeting Jason for cocktails after work instead of being rescued after two months of captivity and torture! Well he can take that hey and shove it right up his fucking--

“Is there anything else here we need to worry about,” Jason says, busying himself with picking the locks on Dick’s manacles so that he doesn’t snap and say something he’ll regret.

Dick shakes his head. He’s got a shaggy beard going and he stinks of sweat and urine and filth, but there’s a sense of… togetherness to him, like he’d always known that Jason was going to show up at this exact minute and that had always been part of his plan. “They scattered as soon as they got word that you guys were coming,” he says, voice thin and raspy. “I guess not enough of them were curious to stick around to find out why so many capes would be coming for me.”

Jason pops the manacles and collar loose and goes to work on the cuffs. “So you weren’t taken as Nightwing.”

Dick sighs, then winces as the motion pulls on the gigantic bruise around his neck. “I wasn’t taken as Dick Grayson, either.”

The cuffs come off with a click. Jason stares at him. “So… what, you were just some poor mug they picked up off the streets to… torture for shits and giggles?”

Dick is silent for a moment. His eyes flick to a point behind Jason and back again. “They knew me as Ric.”

It takes a moment for the name to click in Jason’s brain, but he finally remembers that it was what Dick called himself during his brain-injured year in Bludhaven. “Why would Ric have enemies?” he says, without thinking.

There’s that smile on Dick’s face again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ric did have a life, Jason. And friends. And… enemies.” He begins to move, bare feet shifting against the floor and shifting his weight onto his hands as if he’s trying to figure out a way to stand up, but barely manages an inch of elevation before he runs out of energy, breathing heavily. “Ric--I used to fight. Street fights. Involved a lot more money and people than I remembered, and… apparently a lot of people felt betrayed when I just up and left the city one day. I’ve been fighting matches here almost every day.” A sudden, sharp grin. “I haven’t lost yet.”

Jason--stops. Utterly freezes, hands midway to helping Dick sit upright, because there’s something terribly, terribly wrong here. “Why didn’t you ever try to escape? And how--I mean, in the first place--”

How did you even get caught?

To Jason’s horror, tears start rolling down Dick’s face. His expression doesn’t really change, so Jason’s not sure that Dick’s even aware that he’s crying, but right now Jason is already halfway to being mortified. “I was on my way back from the gym,” Dick says finally, “and I think I--I blacked out. It happens sometimes.” Dick gives a wet laugh. “Talk about bad timing.”

“And--and what, you blacked out for two months?”

At this Dick’s face crumples, and suddenly Jason gets it: this is a man pushed and pushed to the end of his rope and beyond, utterly exhausted, past the point of caring who knows about it or why. “I guess…” Dick swallows. “I didn’t really see the difference. Between--between here and out there.”

Jason wants to scream, shake his shoulders--a shameful part of him even wants to hit Dick--and tell him that of course it was different outside of this stupid, dank warehouse: he has friends and family and a lifetime of experience to support him while he flies free. It’s ridiculous to even compare the two, and Jason is ready to put these words down to the effects of too much pain and too little food.

Except--

(plucked you right out of one life and stuffed you into another, didn’t they? treated you like a puppet without a past and a future, didn’t they? didn’t let you entertain the idea of a different life even for a minute, did they? punished you for straying, reminded you there was just too much at stake, and that those stakes were always, always bigger than you or your health or your happiness or your future--)

“Dick, I--” Jason really doesn’t know what to say. Tim says, “ETA five” in his ear while Bruce says, “Right behind you, Robin” and Jason knows, just knows, that this isn’t how they would want to see Dick, and more importantly, this isn’t how Dick would want them to see him.

He gathers Dick in his arms and presses him to his chest. Dick freezes for a second, surprised, then melts into his embrace. His shoulders shake, hands coming up to weakly grasp at Jason’s jacket. The sobs reach a crescendo quickly, a pathetic keening muffled into Jason’s chest, before tapering away and Dick is still, just… breathing. 

Jason breathes with him.

That’s how Tim and Bruce find them a couple of minutes later. Dick peels away and somehow musters the energy to reassure them. Bruce helps him up and carries him to the car while Jason follows; just as Dick’s lowered into the backseat his hand shoots out, grasping Jason’s arm in a silent plea. 

Jason gets in with him. Neither he nor Bruce say anything through the whole drive at the tears that continue to pour down Dick’s face, but Jason doesn’t let go of his hand for the whole ride.

[paigenotblank]

A Brief Glimpse of the Future

Written for Nine Month and two of the prompts @doctorroseprompts:

The Ninth Doctor’s thoughts after Rose said no to travelling with him

Nine runs into an older Rose who is already married to him in the future. How does he react?

Pairing: Nine x Rose, Ten x Rose

Rating: Teen (to be safe)

AO3  TS

The Doctor trudged out of the TARDIS, pulled his collar up, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Head down, he made his way toward the Estriellian marketplace. He was trying his hardest to forget about the blonde girl that had turned down his offer to travel earlier. Don’t need anyone me, ‘specially not some stupid little ape who can’t even see what an idiot her boyfriend is. Better off alone. M’ life’s dangerous. Don’t have time to be worryin’ about anyone else anyway.

He reached a stall that had potentially useful looking parts. The scowl on his face kept everyone away, even the proprietor, while he browsed. He had just picked up a Trax’il'er stabilizing coil, when he was hit by wave of lust and a blurry vision of a woman performing a very explicit act on his person. His knees wobbled and he dropped the part to grab the table for support. He heard the purr of a woman’s voice in his head. {You’re back early. Couldn’t stay away?} He looked around in a panic. His mental shields weren’t where they should have been since the end of the Time War. Obviously, a telepath was taking advantage and amusing herself with him. He heard a giggle ring through his mind and felt a rush of anger. Oh, no she doesn’t. Ain’t gonna let anyone toy with me.

{Doctor? Is everything okay?}

His hearts skipped a beat. Hope spread briefly in his chest as he realized whoever it was knew him. Could someone else have… But then doubts started flooding his mind. No. I’d feel anyone else and I...whoever it is clearly entered my mind and found my name. An’ I’ll not let ‘em get away with that.

{Doctor, you’re scarin’ me. What’s wrong? Is Jenny okay?}

He stormed from the stall and looked around. All he saw was a sea of people shopping and bustling about. Nobody was paying him any attention.

He felt a faint trail of worry and followed it toward the large fountain in the town center. His eyes scanned the crowd. Each person his gaze fell upon was quickly sized up and discarded as the culprit. And then he saw them - an impossible blonde speaking with a red-head. He stood frozen as his jaw dropped and blood rushed past his ears.

Rose glanced up and spotted a face she never thought she’d ever see again in person.

“You!”

She slowly got to her feet.

Donna put her hand on Rose’s arm. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She glanced at her distractedly before moving towards the Doctor.

“Who’s that then?”

“That’s the Doctor.”

“Another one? What's it, like, the Martian version of John?”

Rose shook her head, eyes never leaving the Doctor. “No, I mean he’s the Doctor. Our Doctor.” She looked at Donna. “Remember how I told you he could change?”

Donna gasped and turned toward the unfamiliar version of her friend. “What happened, Doctor?” Donna glanced around. “Where’s Jenny? Did something happen to her?”

“Who’s Jenny? An’ who’re you?”

Rose ignored him as she reassured Donna. “He hasn’t regenerated. He’s...an earlier Doctor. He’s the Doctor I first met.”

Donna looked him up and down. “I swear, Blondie, your taste in aliens…”

Rose returned her attention back to the Doctor, and asked softly, “What’re you doing here?”

“Me? What am I doing here? What’re you doing here?”

Rose raised her eyebrow at his tone. “Had a little shopping to do, an’ this is one of my favorite markets.”

He glared at her. “Bit far from London wouldn’t you say? And a few millennia off. Who brought you here?”

“You did.”

“Impossible. I left you back on Earth with your idiot boyfriend.”

“Wh...what?”

“You turned me down not even an hour ago!” Rose covered her mouth in horror as understanding of when he was dawned.  “An’ now I find you at the first stop I make, half a galaxy away and 2400 years later.” He looked at her suspiciously. “What’re you playing at?”

Donna growled, “Oi, Spaceman. Is that how you talk to your wife?”

“Wife?” The blood drained from his face and he looked incredulously from Rose to Donna and back to Rose.

Donna rung her hands and cast an apologetic look at Rose. She mouthed, “Sorry.”

Rose stepped closer to the Doctor. She tentatively reached over their bond sending love and calm. {Doctor...}

He shuddered at her gentle telepathy. “You...you’re the telepath from earlier?”

A fiery blush heated Rose’s cheeks. “Sorry, thought you were my...erm, the Doctor in my timeline. An’ I...if I had known...it’s just you both feel the same in my mind.”

“But...I don’t understand.”

“God, Doctor. I never imagined you didn’t come right back. You never said.”

“Huh?”

Rose smiled at the Doctor. “When you asked me to come with you.”

“But-”

“You forgot to tell me she travels in time. You were gone only a second before you rematerialized and asked me again.”

His expression hardened. “I never go back and ask a second time.”

Rose cupped the Doctor’s face. “You did for me...will for me. An’ for what it’s worth, I regretted saying ‘no’ immediately. I didn’t need to know she traveled in time, I just needed the wakeup of you disappearin’ on me.”

He closed his eyes against the bright love that shone from hers.

She moved her fingers to brush through the Doctor’s short cropped hair. “Made me realize I never wanted to be without you again.” He leaned into her soft caress and opened his eyes slowly.

His hearts pounded in his chest and he felt a sinking in his stomach. “Rose, you can’t...I’ve done-”

Rose silenced him with a soft, quick kiss. “I know what you’ve done. An’ I love you...love all that you are.”

He took a steadying breath. “But-”

“No. No, buts. I know it’s a lot to take in, an’ I know you think you don’t deserve…”

“I don’t.”

“It gets easier, Doctor. There’re people who want to help you, jus’ have to let ‘em in.”

He stepped back and crossed his arms. “An’ I suppose you’re one of ‘em?”

Rose nodded. “I’m not the only one though. You’ve touched so many lives…”

“Mum, look what we-” Jenny pulled to a stop when she noticed Rose and the young Doctor speaking. She tilted her head as she considered him. “Dad?”

The Doctor stuttered, “D...Dad?”

““Blimey, there’s the dad-shock again.” The older Doctor strolled up and frowned. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Donna smirked and tilted her head toward his younger self. “Same man is right.”

Rose and the older Doctor both turned to their friend and admonished, “Donna!”

“Right, I’ll just be sitting on that bench over there while you deal with…” She gestured between Jenny, Rose, and the two Doctors. “...this.”

The younger Doctor was gawking at Jenny. “It’s...it’s not possible!”

Jenny asked, “What’s not?”

The younger Doctor looked from her to Rose. “She...she can’t be our daughter.” Rose pursed her lips. “You two are the same age!”

The older Doctor piped in, “Oh! Right. Progeneration machine. As you can see they, er, grow them very quickly on Messaline...She popped out this age. Really, she’s only 25 days old.”

Jenny huffed. “Dad, would you stop telling people that! I have all the knowledge of any other 19 year old.”

“But none of the experience. Ha, listen to me, I’m your old man and a genius.”

Rose noticed her first Doctor getting agitated, and she drew him away from her bickering family.

“Sorry, I know this must all be a bit overwhelming.” Rose took his hand and laced their fingers together.

He took a deep breath. “You look nearly the same age as when I left you.”

Rose smiled sadly. “I didn’t have as much time with you, this you, as I’d hoped.”

“Please tell me it was at least a good death? I didn’t…”

Rose laughed. “You didn’t trip over a brick or anything.”

His eyes widened. “Not the first time you’ve suggested that.” She smiled her special tongue touched grin for him. His eyes were drawn helplessly to her lips.

He cleared his throat. “Right…”

Rose squeezed his hand. “You died saving someone you loved.”

“You?”

Rose glanced at him through her lashes. “You think you might love me?”

The Doctor glowered at her, but she caught a slight twitching at the corners of his lips, and she smiled brightly.

“Blimey, Rose. Do I always look this daft when you’re flirting with me?”

She turned to her husband. “Hush you or it’ll be a while before you can find out again.”

She returned her attention to her first Doctor. “Yes. It was me. An’ I...I was so upset with you for changin’ when it happened that...I never did say ‘thank you.’”

“You don’t have to thank-” She pressed her finger to his lips.

“Please. Let me.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for always takin’ care of me, thank you for showin’ me that there was a better way of livin’, an’ thank you for going back and asking again even though you normally don’t.”

He opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I love you. My Doctor. Always.” Rose stood on her toes and kissed him. This man who would one day be her husband and who in this body had kissed her only once. A kiss that had never been more than a hazy memory for her. She pulled away and licked her lips. Savoring the crisp new memory as much as his taste.

He suddenly grabbed her around the waist and kissed her hard. Tongue slipping past surprised lips. It was a kiss of fear and hope, of greeting and parting, of past and future. It was a kiss of love. When they broke away, Rose was breathing heavily. The Doctor rested his forehead against hers.

“Go find me, Doctor.”

The Doctor released Rose and stepped away from her. His hands twitched and he took a few more steps back so as to not immediately pull her back into his arms. He could do no more than nod his head in agreement.

The older Doctor sidled up to Rose and put his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her head and looked at his past self. “It does get better. I know you expected Gallifrey to die with you. But it lives on in the people we saved and our hearts and…” He glanced at Jenny. “...our daughter.”

The younger Doctor stood there overcome by emotion. “Right.” He steeled himself and turned.

Rose called out after him. “Doctor!”

He glanced back at her.

“I just wanted to say...you and I, we were fantastic.”

He grinned widely. “I can’t wait.”