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| Tenth Doctor | |
When the World Was Flat by themonkeycabal [Reviews - 12]  | |
***
"I am the bad wolf. I create myself."
Ringing. That was all wrong. It couldn't possibly be right. A soft hum of exquisite light and pain, replaced by ringing. Discordant. Mechanical. Hollow and ... really annoying. Rose Tyler opened her eyes to a comfortable room full of odds and ends, bits and bobs, whathaveyous of every sort. Her room. The TARDIS. Home.
Closing her eyes, she tried to feel the peace and the pain of the light, the dream again, tried to sort it in her mind, but the ringing was stabbing in on her thoughts, scattering everything. Pushing herself up on one elbow, she reached for the source of the offending sound and glared at it.
"What?" she snarled into the mobile.
"Well that's a fine good morning, then," the Doctor chirped cheerfully.
"Why you phoning me?"
"Come to breakfast. You'll sleep your life away at this rate."
"You couldn't knock on the door?"
"Last time I did that you threw a shoe at me."
"I'd been asleep exactly two hours after having been awake for three days, and there's yourself coming in whistling. You're lucky that's all I threw."
Jabbing the mobile off without waiting for his reply, she tossed it on the floor and dropped her heavy head back onto the pillow. There was something not quite right up there, in her head, and every time she got close to figuring some bit of it, HE would interrupt. It was uncanny. If she didn't know for a fact that he couldn't read her mind, she'd be awfully suspicious. And, if she was the really paranoid sort, she'd think the TARDIS had something to do with it.
"You spying in m'head, girl?" Rose asked the ship softly, letting her eyes drift shut for another moment.
It was no use, though. The dream was gone now. It was like trying to hold onto smoke, or trying to pick a song out of the faintest echoes. There was a chord or two she recognized, but not enough to put it together, and the harder she tried, the quicker it faded. Sighing, she shoved the covers aside and stumbled out of her bed.
Not bothering to get dressed, she left her room and made for the kitchen in her sleep-wear -- old pajama bottoms and an equally old t-shirt. The Doctor was wise enough to limit his reaction to a raised eyebrow. Rose ignored even that; he'd seen her worse than sleep-rumpled. And it's not as though he, himself, didn't redefine the term rumpled. Did he sleep in that bloody suit?
"What's this?" she asked, dropping into a chair.
"Time Lord delicacy we like to call toast," he told her quietly, watching her, eyebrow still raised.
Rose reached for a pot on the table and lifted the lid, sniffing at it slightly.
"And that's jam. Strawberry. I'm not out to poison you." She gave him a flat look and replaced the lid. "That was an accident," he mumbled defensively.
Shoving the pot of jam away from her, she stared around the kitchen, not looking directly at the Doctor. She noted almost absently that the cooker had moved again, and there was a new cupboard. Containing? God and the TARDIS only knew what.
"Rose, are you alright?"
Relenting with a weary yawn, she took a piece of toast and nibbled on a corner. "Yeah. Fine. Weird dreams."
The Doctor shifted uneasily in his seat and stared down at his own toast. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"
Rose propped her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist and, after a quick puff of air to blow the hair out of her eyes, she considered the man across the table from her. How was it possible, she wondered, that a nine hundred-year old man could look so much like a puppy expecting a kick? Or like the last Time Lord expecting his companion to ask to be taken home.
"Not bloody likely," she said to herself, only realizing she said it out loud when he glanced up quickly and a hurt look flickered across his face.
"Not you. I didn't mean the talking. Was thinking of something else," she corrected, waving her toast in his direction.
He didn't look particularly comforted and stood up abruptly, making a show of going for more coffee. He held the pot out to her and poured a cup at her sleepy nod.
"I've been dreaming 'bout what happened on the Game Station," she told him, trying to mend whatever damage her muttered comment caused. "Or what I remember. At least, I think it's what I remember. It's all fuzzy," she said through another yawn.
"I've told you what happened," he said, his back turned to her as he fiddled with the coffee-maker.
"What you remember," Rose clarified. She'd long suspected he'd left a detail or two out. Since his 'change' he'd been rather vague about some things -- the last stand on Game Station being one of them.
"What I remember," he agreed mildly, coming back to his chair.
Of course, it wasn't all that surprising that the Doctor was still a little hazy, what with him essentially dying just after. He'd gone through his 'change', noted his new teeth, given her a charming smile, started talking about Barcelona, and then he'd promptly fallen flat on his face. Or he would have done if she hadn't caught him.
It was the falling that had shaken her out of her shock, and instinct moved her to save her best mate from chipping one of his new teeth on the floor of the TARDIS. Granted her best mate had a completely different face and something of a personality overhaul, but he was still the Doctor; she could feel it on some basic level, something he probably had some clever term for. In fact, she seemed to be adapting to it better than he was.
Not that it had been all that easy. Some days had come nearer to breaking her than she would ever admit out loud. The seven hours when he'd completely forgotten who she was and had demanded to know what she was doing on his ship, had been particularly trying, and if she'd found a dark, quiet corner of the TARDIS and cried for a time, well, it was an entirely reasonable reaction. Whereas during the day and a half when he insisted on calling her Alice, she'd wavered between concern, amusement, and the suspicion that he was covering forgetting her name again by making Lewis Carroll jokes. Whatever it was, since he'd at least accepted that she belonged there, it almost felt like progress. She settled on simply letting it go. She responded to 'Alice', and the next day went about business as if everything was as normal as it ever got. The day's business, fortunately, had been a light affair, with a simple trip to the market in 1976 Portsmouth for essential items. By the end of their shopping they'd both agreed that 1976 was not one of Earth's highlights, and he was back to calling her Rose.
All told, the first couple weeks after his change had been a bit up and down, but more up as the days passed. Except now, as the Doctor came more back to himself, as he remembered more often than he forgot, he started to pull away from her, shying away, almost as if he was afraid of, or, for her. This only served to firm up her resolve -- or bloody-mindedness, as he charmingly termed it one night after she plucked a spanner from his hand whilst he pounded angrily, and uselessly, on the TARDIS's console -- to stay exactly where she was, continuing to willingly embrace the occasionally harrowing life of a time traveller.
"Doctor?"
"Yes."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Giving her a wan smile, he toyed with his coffee cup. He didn't seem convinced and Rose sighed. There were only so many ways she could say those words, but he didn't want to hear them however she offered them up. So he continued to wait for her to leave him. Which was fine with her, he was welcome to wallow in his own bloody-mindedness and wait as long as he liked. What she didn't like was how subdued he was. Hesitant around her. Uncertain. That was not like him. She suspected that wasn't like him in any incarnation.
"Just wish you'd have told me ahead of time your lot did that," she mumbled. "Bit of a shock."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged and sat back in her chair, pulling a foot up on the seat and resting her chin on her knee.
"Don't be sorry. It's better than the alternative." She flashed him a smile, one he finally returned. It felt like the first time in an age. Could have been, for all she knew, she hadn't checked when they were today.
"I didn't cross space and time to save you just to have you die on me," she pointed out.
He shook his head and snorted softly. "See if I ever leave you alone in the TARDIS again. Pull my baby apart, will you? Worse yet, let Mickey the Idiot do it."
Rose stared at him for a long moment, silent and thoughtful. It's hard to be angry at somebody for something they didn't remember doing; now, however, he was starting to recall and she'd had more than a little anger and fear brewing the past month -- or however long it'd been; she always lost track of her own personal timeline.
When she finally spoke, her voice was fierce and she didn't bother to hide her lingering irritation. "Send me away again and when I find you -- and don't think I won't -- I'll throttle you myself. Don't ever do that to me again, Doctor. Don't ever."
He let out a long breath and gave her a crooked smile. "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. Besides, the universe is clearly better off when you're where I can keep an eye on you."
"Where I can keep an eye on you, you mean," she sniffed.
His smiled broadened. "Sort of a terrifying thought that we might cause less trouble together than apart."
"Sort of," Rose agreed with a frown.
"Well then, where shall we go chasing trouble today?"
"Don't care. Maybe someplace quiet, though. My head's still a bit like it's packed in wool."
"It's more than dreams?" the Doctor asked, his brow creasing in concern.
Reaching out, he grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his. Rose stared back into dark eyes that had so recently been light and cool as a clear December morning. Though the color had changed, what she saw in those eyes hadn't -- the weight of years, the pain of war and loss, and a child-like, mischievous joy. And just now, affection and worry. Her Doctor.
"I'm okay. It's just the thoughts, the dreams, everything feels off."
"Things have changed."
"I'm not talking about you."
"Neither am I," he told her sharply. "Rose, you had the whole time vortex running through your head. It almost killed you; I'd be surprised if it didn't leave a mark." He tapped a finger on her jaw and let her go. "Nine hundred years, Rose. Nine hundred years, I don't remember the last time I was as scared as when I saw what you'd done. Done for me." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You could have died."
"I know that. Do you think I don't?" Her temper was heating up nicely. "Don't you go blaming yourself for my choices. I knew what I was doing." He looked up at her, eyebrow quirked and she frowned at him. "Okay, I didn't know exactly what I was doing, but I know why I was doing it and what could happen to me. It was my choice, Doctor, and I'd make the same again if I had to." She let out an exasperated huff. "Blimey, and you say humans are thick."
He gave her a puzzled look and tilted his head. "Did you just call me thick?"
"Yeah, you are. What of it?" She lifted her chin defiantly.
"Huh."
And then he laughed. A real laugh. A true, full, rich laugh. She hadn't heard him laugh in this body yet. All told, it was a nice laugh, if a little strange, since she didn't associate this particular sound with the Doctor yet. But, if nothing else, she was well familiar with the amusement in it.
"What would I do without you?"
"You'd be dead a few times over," she grumbled.
He reached out to touch her jaw again, and slide his hand up to cup her cheek. "Yes I would. My Rose."
I want you safe. My Doctor.
Rose closed her eyes against the half-remembered words. Reaching up, she covered his hand with her own, and pressed her cheek against his palm for a brief moment. His hands were a different shape, but the touch was the same.
She let him go after a heartbeat or two. She grabbed her coffee and stood, heading for the door. "I'll go get dressed. Find us someplace quiet, yeah?"
When he didn't reply, she glanced over her shoulder. "Doctor?"
He was staring back down at his coffee, refusing to look at her. "I think we ought to go to London."
"When?" She asked suspiciously, knowing too well what he meant, but hoping she was wrong.
"You should let your mum know you're alright."
Sighing, she slouched back against the door frame. "That's not exactly what I'd call quiet. You do remember my mum, right?"
"Vividly." He touched his hand to his cheek and winced.
"Can't we do it later?" Rose pleaded. "A few days won't matter, yeah? Time machine." Waving a hand at the room around them and the ship at large, she cast him a desperate look. She really wasn't in the mood to explain to her mother why she was home with another strange bloke in tow, or explaining how it was that bloke was the Doctor. Her own head needed sorting first.
"And yet, time carries on, even for us."
The odd fatalism of his tone shook her slightly, and she stared at him for a time before giving way under his intense gaze. "Okay. Just for a bit. I'm not staying there." She pointed a finger at him and left the room quickly, before he could argue or say something that would send them into a meltdown.
Rose took her time dressing, dragging her feet, trying to delay the inevitable. Unfortunately, once the Doctor had his mind set, there was little changing it. He'd start them back whether she was in the console room with him or not. With a heavy sigh she pulled on a jumper and sent out a fervent prayer for some sort of distraction -- world-destroying chaos was better than one of her mum's endless inquisitions.
When she thought she'd delayed as long as she could, and when no immediate danger cropped up to save her, she set her jaw and squared her shoulders, preparing to meet a grim fate.
When she finally shuffled into the room, the Doctor grinned and waved her over to the console. "Ready to go home?"
Raising her eyebrows in challenge, she crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the console.
"For a visit, I mean," he amended.
"Guess so," she mumbled unhappily.
He frowned at her and scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it standing wildly on end. If Rose hadn't been moping at his insistence she visit home, she might have found it adorable. Maybe.
"I'm not your mum's biggest fan, nor she mine, but I wouldn't take you home to be cruel. You're not feeling right. I think maybe what you need is a bit of normal."
Rose shrugged and stared down at her shoes. "Maybe."
His lips curled up into an impish grin. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."
She groaned and rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep from smiling back. "That joke was old the first time you told it."
"That joke's ageless," he countered with a laugh. "Hold on, back we go."
It was one of their rougher trips and the landing was ugly as anything. Rose clung desperately to the console, trying not to end up across the room with a bruised backside. The Doctor looked particularly proud of himself, though, smoothing his suit jacket and tugging on the cuffs.
Rose gave him a mock glare; it wouldn't do to let him get any more full of himself than he already was. "You call that a landing?"
He pressed his lips together and made a great show of flicking switches. "Always a critic. You're standing, aren't you?"
"Just."
"You want to drive?"
"Yeah, actually. When you gonna teach me?"
He glanced down at his watch and then back up at her. "Never?"
"What happens if you get hurt or something, and I've got to get us out of somewhere? I'm not talking 'bout your emergency program stuff, but proper piloting."
"I'd have thought you'd pick it up by now, anyway. You're not really that dim, are you?" His lips twitched as though he struggled not to smile.
His old self wouldn't have hesitated to smile, but, you never knew when one of a hundred little things would pop up to knock you sideways and make it hard to smile, even if you'd been grinning like you'd just heard the greatest joke in the world not two minutes before. She knew the feeling well enough from her side. Two weeks ago it was learning he took his tea differently, eight days ago it was the appearance of canvas trainers in place of black Doc Martens. Sometimes it was listening to the change in his voice, as the accent drifted towards Scottish. They could laugh and joke and tease and then she'd notice his eyes were dark brown and then it just hurt too much to laugh and forget.
But, she didn't really ever forget, did she? And that didn't have to be a bad thing, a painful thing. Just another part of their weird journey. If he couldn't manage that particular smile, she certainly could. She gave him the brightest, cockiest grin she'd ever managed.
"Oi, you. I have picked up some. Like I know you missed that landing 'cause you weren't paying attention to a bit of wave in that time stream."
He looked like he wasn't sure whether he should be alarmed by missing that, or proud that she caught it. The inner conflict left him flustered. "What?"
"Yeah. Clear as day on that monitor there." She jerked her chin at the panel in front of her. "Any idea what caused it?" Maybe it was the world-destroying chaos she'd prayed for. A girl could hope.
"Oh, so you don't know everything yet, eh?" He sniffed haughtily and peered down at the sensors. "There're always fluctuations. Time isn't constant. It's always shifting and swirling." Straightening, he let himself smile again. "Nope. Nothing there. Just a regular old bit of chop. Nothing to save you from your mum."
He really was uncanny, or she was just really bleeding obvious. "Damn," she muttered darkly.
"Oh cheer up, Rose. There's an infinite universe out there, and if you could pick any point at random, I've no doubt I'd rather be there than sitting around your flat having tea with your mother. We'll be brave and face the firing squad together."
"Oh yes, now I'm all manner of cheerful, I am." She may have been grumbling loudly, but she was quietly relieved he intended to come in with her, not just drop her off and then go wandering about town, doing whatever it was he did, looking for -- and finding, no doubt -- trouble and something exciting. In fact, she was a little flattered that he'd give up the hunt for adventure for an afternoon.
Releasing her death grip on the console, she stepped back and raised her chin. "Well, if we're gonna do it, we'd better get on."
"That's the spirit." He slipped on his long coat -- a sort of light brown suede; seemed he hadn't lost his leather fetish -- and gestured grandly at the door. "After you."
Rose stepped hesitantly out of the TARDIS and looked out across the council estate. It seemed like it should look different, but it looked the same as it always did. Then she frowned, something was different, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"What day is it?" she asked as he came up next to her.
He looked down at his watch. "A couple of weeks after you left last. Thursday, if you must."
She peered over his arm, trying to get a look at his watch, but he dropped his arm and shrugged his coat sleeve back over it. Giving him a sour look, she took a step away.
"You sure it's a couple weeks and not a couple years?"
"Yes, I'm sure." She could practically hear the eye-roll.
Turning her head, she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Does it feel odd to you?"
The Doctor looked around, watched a group of children chase each other across the car park, looked up at the grey sky, and cocked his head to one side like he was listening for something.
"Nope," he said after a moment. "Just the way I remember it."
Frowning, Rose rubbed a hand across her forehead and started walking toward her building.
"What feels wrong?" asked the Doctor as they walked.
She was relieved that he didn't doubt her; though, he never had, had he? "Dunno. Maybe it's just me. I mean, I'm feeling weird and stuff, so everything probably looks odd, yeah?"
"Could be. You've been a long way from home and done some amazing things. Your perceptions of life and the Earth have been changing for some time," he told her quietly. "Or, you could just be a nutter."
"Oh, thank you so much, Doctor."
He laughed and took her hand as they walked.
They sky was dark and heavy and a thick mist hung low around them. The cold and damp stung her cheeks, and Rose closed her eyes to let herself feel it -- to feel the living world around her again. Leaning against the Doctor, her hand in his, she felt a sort of peace settle on her. Of course, he would be right, wouldn't he? A bit of normal. Even if things still felt off, but it was probably like he said -- perception. She'd gone one way and London the other, they weren't really a part of each other any longer.
"I go and I come back and every time I expect that it should look different, and every time it's always the same. And ... and it feels foreign, though. It's always the same, and that feels different. Like its looks don't match with its feel." She was rambling, she knew she was rambling.
The Doctor paused and tugged her around to him, and for the first time in weeks, he pulled her into an embrace. "Everything has a price."
"I know."
"Do you?"
She considered that for a moment, and a small, indignant spark of anger flared, but just as quickly sputtered out. He wasn't asking to be superior, or like a professor prompting a stupid student, he was honestly asking.
"I didn't. When I first said yes and went with you, I didn't understand. It wasn't that long ago, but I feel like it was a lifetime. I do understand now, but knowing in my head and knowing in my heart are two different things."
"You're quite remarkable, Rose Tyler."
She snorted and let her cheek rest against his jacket; the cool fabric entirely unfamiliar from the scratchy wool of his old wardrobe. Just one more small difference to catalogue in her head, things that marked their then and their now. Turning her head she caught the familiar tang of leather and smiled -- one more small similarity tying the then and the now together. "Nah."
"I don't say that to just everybody, you know?"
She laughed quietly against his chest and felt content and safe there. She wanted to cling to that moment, to wrap it around her, to hold it and feel it forever, but all too quickly it passed and her mood turned dark as the sky.
"I look around, and I guess I wonder how much I've changed."
The Time War ends.
"The time war's over," she mumbled into his chest. "I fought at the end of it. I destroyed the Daleks. How many of them? Hundreds of thousands? I don't remember it, but I feel it. It ought to show, shouldn't it? But it doesn't."
The Doctor made a small choking sound and his arms tightened almost painfully around her. "It was my war, Rose. I never wanted you to have to bear any of it. I would have given anything for it to have never touched you."
"Don't say you're sorry," she interrupted. "Don't do it."
He pulled back from her and ran a thumb across her cheek, brushing aside tears she didn't realize had fallen. "No apologies, then."
"I wouldn't change it," she told him fiercely.
"None of it?" There was a glint of humor in his eye and she felt the darkness begin to recede.
"Well, maybe that time my skin turned orange."
"I don't know, I thought it was quite a fetching shade."
She thumped his shoulder soundly and was about to tell him what he could do with his idea of 'fetching' when a new voice intruded on their conversation.
"Replaced already? I've heard about your collection of strays, Rose, but I think my heart just broke a little."
Rose's eyes widened and her head whipped around. "Jack? Jack. Jack."
Pushing away from the Doctor she threw herself at their wayward companion, a man the Doctor had said was lost in the final battle with the Daleks. She wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug. "Oh my god."
"I guess you're happy to see me," Jack laughed and returned the hug, lifting her off the ground. "How's my girl?"
"So glad to see you, you have no idea," she told him breathlessly when she settled back on her feet again. "God, you're alive. What're you doing here? How'd you get here?"
"Believe me, that's a long and fascinating story, but maybe you'd better introduce me to your friend first." Jack threw his arm across Rose's shoulder, tucking her protectively against his side; she wasn't sure if she found that endearing or annoying.
"Captain Jack Harkness." With a bright, charming smile, he stuck his hand out.
Rose smirked and raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, who looked equally amused. He took Jack's hand, shaking it firmly. "A pleasure, Captain. I'm the Doctor."
"The Doctor," Jack repeated slowly. He glanced down at Rose; she just blinked at him guilelessly. "Right."
"It's a long and fascinating story," Rose told him.
"Cheeky." He was staring at the Doctor again, trying to piece it together and, by the look on his face, not having much luck.
"We thought you were dead, Jack," the Doctor told him. His voice was soft and he was scanning Jack's face for ... something.
Jack, still eyeing the Doctor warily, shrugged and smiled. "Me, too. Funny thing, though, I woke up with a nasty headache, a sore chest, and a pile of dust. The last time something like that happened, I'd had a much better time the night before."
"I didn't know and didn't think to look. I'm sorry, Jack. I was a little pressed for time." The Doctor laughed at himself and looked up at the threatening sky. "It looks like it's getting on rain, what do you say we discuss this someplace dryer?"
"We could go down the pub," Rose offered.
"We came back so you could see your mum, and that's what you're gonna do."
"Fine," she sighed.
Jack kept his arm around Rose's shoulders as they walked behind the Doctor. "Mickey told me you went back for him." He pointed his chin at the Doctor. "I guess it worked."
"I guess so," she said.
"You gonna explain to me how this happened? And what, exactly, it is that did happen? Because, maybe my head got scrambled, but I don't remember the Doctor having all that hair."
The Doctor shot them a look over his shoulder as he opened the door.
"It's nice hair," Jack said loudly. "I like it. Casual, messy in a sexy intellectual sort of way."
"Wonderful. Thank you." The Doctor started up the stairs, not pausing to see if they followed.
Rose did pause, though. Jack didn't deserve to be kept in the dark, and the Doctor's game of 'guess who I am' was only amusing to a point. "It's a Time Lord thing. When they're gonna die they sort of cheat by regenerating into a new body."
"He died?" Jack ducked his head, trying to look her in the eye, but her eyes slid away from his as she suddenly found the ground fascinating. He let out a long breath and put a hand on the back of her neck. "So that really is the Doctor."
"It really is."
"Well ... that's interesting. A little strange."
"You're telling me."
He leaned against her and gave his best flirtatious grin. "It puts the right spin on that adorable little scene I walked into, though. Couldn't bear to part with you to anybody less than the Doctor. Don't think I won't put up a fight, though."
She arched and eyebrow at him. "For him or for me?"
"I have to choose?"
Laughing, she shoved at his shoulder. "You're so full of it."
"You lot coming?" the Doctor called, his head appearing over the railing a few flights up.
"Keep your knickers on," Rose muttered and started up the stairs.
Jack followed her closely, a hand on her back. "How are you doing, Rose? You look tired."
"It's been a long month. How long you been here?"
"A couple of weeks. I figured you'd probably come back at some point to see your mom. I hoped you would, I had one shot and trying to find the pair of you anywhere else in space and time would have been a little tough. So I targeted a week or so after we left Cardiff, which turned out to be just a couple of days after the Doctor sent you back from the Game Station. Tricky timing, that could have been ugly. Anyway, I won't lie and say I wasn't starting to get a little anxious that you might not show, or that something else happened."
"Don't ask me why he picked two weeks after, I don't know."
"How're you doing, Rose?" Jack asked again, more firmly this time, obviously not keen on letting her get away with ducking the question.
She tried again, anyway. "I told you--"
"A long month, yeah. That doesn't answer my question, though. It's not just his looks, is it? He seems different."
"He is a bit. And it's been a long month, that's how I'm doing. It's ... it's getting better."
"Promise?"
She looked back at him and smiled. "Yeah. So, you gonna tell me how you got back here?"
Jack smiled wickedly. "There was this cute little time agent I ran into on Earth. Or, she sort of ran into me. You and the Doc made a hell of a mess. Time agents all over the place. Anyway, I hated to part her from her ship, but, what's a stranded traveller to do?"
At the landing, Rose turned and braced her hands on the stair railing, trapping Jack on the steps. "You didn't?"
"And since they can track their ships, I had to take it to an old pal of mine on a little planet you're better off never knowing anything about." He pointed his finger at her in a disturbingly paternal sort of way. "I traded it in for a sorry scrap-heap. That was enough to get me back here. Just. Remind me to have a few words with my pal."
"You're so awful," Rose laughed and pushed away, heading toward her flat.
Putting his hand on his chest, Jack tried to look innocent. "I'm a creative problem solver."
"You're a cad, is what you are."
"Thank you," he told her, sounding absolutely flattered. Lord, she'd missed him.
The Doctor was leaning against the rail outside of Rose's flat, waiting for them. His lips were quirked up in amusement.
She walked up to him and nudged his shoulder with her own. "What're you smiling about?"
"Can't I just smile?"
"No. Means you're up to something."
"You've got a suspicious mind," he sniffed but the smile stayed.
"When it comes to you, yeah." She laughed and bumped him again.
"Just happy we're all hale and hearty. Go on, then." He pointed at her door. "I didn't agree to hang around outside all day. I was promised tea."
"You promised yourself tea," Rose muttered and dug her keys out of her pocket to let herself into the flat. "Mum? You in?"
Jackie Tyler, dressed in a sheer robe and not much else, stuck her head out of her bedroom, her eyes wide and happy. "Rose, sweetheart. That's you?"
"Yeah, mum. How are you?"
Jackie pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried when you didn't come back straight away." She pulled back and put her hands on Rose's shoulder. "You look half-dead. Are you sick? Is that man not treating you right?"
Rose gave her mother an incredulous scowl. "Right, thanks, mum. I'm fine."
"Dark circles, and pale as a ghost, you are. Where is he? I'd like to tell him what I think of how he's treating my daughter. Drag you off all over the universe and run you into the ground. I've a word or two for him." Jackie's eyes drifted over Rose's shoulder to the two men standing in the entry. "Who are you then?"
Jack turned up his charm to eleven and stepped around the Doctor to offer his hand to her. "Captain Jack Harkness, ma'am. And it's a pleasure to meet you. Rose has told me so much about you."
Jackie's expression drifted from mildly affronted to completely charmed in the space of roughly three nanoseconds, and she let him wrap both his hands around hers. "Oh, you're an American, are you? And a Captain. Well that's nice, isn't it?" She sounded a little dazed. Rose shifted uncomfortably. "How d'you know Rose? Do you travel with the Doctor, too? She's never mentioned you to me." Jackie gave her daughter a slightly betrayed look.
"Do you mind?" the Doctor called from the door. "Jack, you can flirt later, preferably when I'm not around to have to watch. Rose, I'd like some tea, if you please. Jackie, for God's sake, put on some clothes; it's two in the afternoon."
"Who the hell are you?" Jackie glared and pulled her hand away from Jack's to tuck her dressing gown more tightly around herself, fisting a hand in the fabric just above her breasts. "Who are you to come into my home demanding?"
"Lord," Rose groaned softly. "They lasted all of thirty seconds." She grabbed her mother's arm and maneuvered her into her room. "Mum, look, get dressed, I'll get tea, and we can talk, okay?"
"I won't have someone coming into my home, rude as you please," Jackie protested angrily.
"Just ... I'll explain, okay?" Rose backed out of the room and shut the door on her mother. She turned to the Doctor with a glare. "You could make an effort."
"I am, but I draw the line at watching her drool over Jack while in her dressing gown."
"Unbelievable." Rose threw up her arms and walked further into the flat, stripping off her jacket as she went.
"I agree," the Doctor grumbled, following close on her heels.
"You know, it was your idea to come here, and you wanted to come in with me," she hissed quietly. "Don't make me spend the afternoon listening to the pair of you snip at each other."
The Doctor had the grace to look abashed as he brushed a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm really not sure where that came from. Though, it might be a bit too much to ask for me to stand by and listen to her claim I don't take care of you properly, and watch Jack flirt with her." He shuddered and pulled off his coat.
"Jealous?" Jack asked with a leer, leaning over the Doctor's shoulder.
"Oh, no, Jackie's all yours," the Doctor told him in a slightly sing-song voice, and with a saccharine smile. "And won't that be precious? Jack and Jackie. Save on monogramming, that will."
Rose made a face and took the Doctor's coat from him. "Okay, and that might be a little too much for me."
"How about we change the subject?" Jack suggested with a wince.
"Excellent," the Doctor agreed. He stepped into the kitchen and began digging around through the shelves, pulling out tins and assorted items.
Rose followed and pulled a packet of biscuits out of his hand. "What're you doing?"
He grabbed the packet back from her, and, putting a hand on her shoulder, steered her towards the door. "Go talk to your, mum. Make sure she puts on something other than a negligée."
"And, what? You're gonna make a disaster of the kitchen? If that's some weird Time Lord psychology to get on her good side, you're doomed." Rose could almost hear her mother's shrill commentary on the state of her kitchen.
The Doctor, looking offended, practically cradled the biscuits against his chest. "I do know how to make tea."
"And toast."
"Jack of all trades. Go on."
"Isn't this a touch domestic for you?" Rose asked with a smirk.
"Go," he ordered again, pointing the biscuits at the door.
Snickering, Rose left the kitchen and walked through the lounge. Jack's voice stopped her at the corridor.
"How'd she do it?"
"Stubborn as hell." She could barely hear the Doctor's words, he spoke so quietly.
"She's not the only one. You sent her home, but I'm betting you didn't set the TARDIS so it'd bring her right back to you. All Mickey knew was that she disappeared."
"She's clever, our Rose."
"Doctor. I'm not dead, and by all rights I should be. I was. Not that I'm complaining, but ... how?"
"Rose. Rose let the whole of the time vortex take her. She was going to kill herself to save me." There was the sound of a cup hitting the counter with some force and the rattle of silverware. "I'd do anything to keep her safe. Anything. It never occurred to me that she'd do the same for me."
Rose forced her feet to move again. Daft man. Daft, stupid man. She may be jeopardy-friendly, as he called it, but she didn't sign up for the life of a time-traveller so she'd have to be saved by him all the time, like some stupid girl in one of her mother's costume dramas. No, if she was in, and she was, then she'd do her share, she'd pull him up when he needed it, and he'd do the same for her. That's how they worked. That's what they were supposed to be. Stupid man.
Shaking her head, she knocked on her mother's door. "Mum, it's me. Can I come in?"
"Yeah. Come on."
Rose entered and watched her mum work on doing something with her hair. Some weird twist thing. God help her, the Doctor was right; watching Jackie and Jack flirt was going to take a great lot of fortitude. Jack might not mean it, but her mother'd give it her best.
"How ya been?" Rose asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Is that man still in our house?"
"He's making tea."
Jackie made a horrified noise and shot a dark look over her shoulder. "You left him alone?"
"Mum," Rose sighed wearily. "He's the Doctor."
"No he isn't," Jackie scoffed and jabbed a clip in her hair. "All that travel hasn't turned you mad, has it?"
"Why does everybody keep calling me mad, today?"
Her mother turned from her dressing table and frowned worriedly at Rose. "Are you?"
"No, I'm not." Rose tucked her hands under her knees and stared at the floor. "It really is him, mum. And yeah, he doesn't look quite the same."
"Not quite the same? You could say that. Is he a shape-shifter or something? Or has he got some weird alien in him, and he just tries to look like us? Like those ones that tried to kill us when you blew up Downing Street?"
"Oh, he's got alien in him, alright," she muttered. "No, look, it's not like that. He looks how he looks, he doesn't change form, or anything. Not like you're thinking."
Eyebrows drawn together, lips pulled down in a grimace, Jackie looked well-confused. She turned back to her mirror and her hair. "That certainly explains his attitude," she replied weakly.
"Now that's what's really going to drive me mad," Rose snarled. "The pair of you."
"Oi, you tell him that."
"Believe me, I have."
Jackie put down her brush and her clips and turned back to Rose. She leaned forward and grabbed one of Rose's arms, pulling her hand out from under her leg. "Sweetheart."
"It was his idea," Rose blurted quickly, trying to cut off whatever else her mother might have to say about the Doctor. "Don't know what made him wake up this morning and decide I needed to come home for the day, but he did."
"Didn't you want to?"
"Yeah, 'course I did. It's just been hard lately and ... and I just wanted some time with my own head first."
Jackie moved to sit next to her daughter on the bed, and put her arms around Rose. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad he decided to bring you. I worry about you out there. And to see you, you look so pale, Rose. You really do. What happened?"
"I looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into me."
"The Doctor ... he--he got sick." Her mother didn't need to know, and would never understand, just what had happened, just what Rose had done.
"You saved him, though, didn't you? When you tried so hard to get back?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did, but he still got sick. And he changed. It's how his kind do things if they're too damaged or something, they sort of grow a new body. But, it's not easy and ... and he hasn't been himself much until the last few days. It's been a month for me, mum," her voice cracked suddenly, and Jackie pulled her head onto her shoulder.
"I probably shouldn't have said that about him not taking care of you," Jackie allowed reluctantly, stroking Rose's hair lightly.
"Probably not. 'Cause he does, mum, he really does."
"It's so dangerous, Rose. I just worry," she said again.
"I know you do. But it's life, right? I could get killed by some weird alien. Or I could get hit by a taxi down the road."
"And if you made a life of running out in front of taxis, I'd worry. Don't you see?"
"I just want to live life. See everything I can see while I can. If I live a hundred years, or five."
"You're so like your father. Dreamers, the pair of you." Jackie sighed and gave her daughter another squeeze. "At least he's better looking this time."
"Mum!"
"Well he is. And don't tell me you hadn't noticed, because I won't believe you."
"I liked him just fine before, thanks," Rose grumbled.
"You don't like him now?"
"I do. No, wait, I'm not having this conversation with you," she told her mother firmly, holding up her hands.
"You're not fooling anybody, you know?"
Rose stood up abruptly, backing away from Jackie, reaching for the door. "I'm not talking about this. He's the Doctor. The Doctor, okay? We're mates, right?"
"And thank God he doesn't look old enough to be your father, anymore."
"Mum!" Rose yanked open the door and stalked out.
"How old is he, anyway?" Jackie asked, following her daughter into the living room.
"Old enough."
"What kind of answer is that? It's a simple question."
"What do you want me to tell you? That he's nine hundred?"
"Don't be daft."
"Fine." Rose headed for the kitchen. The empty kitchen. "Doctor?"
She backed out of the kitchen and looked around the living space. There were two cups of tea and a platter of biscuits on the coffee table. And a note. Grabbing up the note, she read it quickly and swore quietly. "Bastard."
"What is it? Where's he gone?"
"He says I need to spend some time with you and he and Jack have gone off." She crumpled the note in her fist and considered ways to get him back. He was probably out finding some adventure or something. Bastard. Both of them.
Jackie walked over and pried the note out of Rose's hand to read it for herself. "Oh. Well he says he'll be back at five and he'll take us out to eat. That's nice of him," she sounded confused by that.
"Very nice."
"Is it so bad spending time with me?"
Rose turned at the hurt in her mother's voice. "No, no, of course it isn't. I just wasn't expecting it is all. It's better this way, then I don't have to listen to you two bicker." She softened the words with a smile and a brief hug. "So, how ya been? What you been up to? How's everybody?"
Jackie pulled Rose over, and they sat together on the couch, cups of tea in hand. "Well, where to start? You've missed a lot. Oh! You'll never guess who Arianna's seeing now."
So they talked, and they talked, and then they talked some more -- Jackie'd never be known for quiet reflection -- and it was actually pretty good. If Rose still felt unsettled, if she still felt like everything was cast in weird light and that the ground under her feet wasn't as stable as it had always felt, it was actually quite nice to just sit and chat with her mum. In the small, inconsequential things, the innumerable little pieces that made up life, there was a sort of order, things made sense. For a girl whose life was frequently filled with the nearly incomprehensible, it was almost relaxing to spend some time talking about the trivial.
Rose was content gossip about the goings on of their friends and relations, but after a while her mother prodded, wanting details on the Doctor, on their life, on the dangers. She wove a carefully edited narrative for her mum, putting in just enough danger to be believable, but toning it down enough that her mother wouldn't try to lock her in her room. She made a pretty good story of it, if she did say so herself.
Rose was particularly proud of the tale that had them on the run from the Mongol horsemen outside of fourteenth century Peking; she was sure she'd made it sound more of an exotic, intoxicating holiday than a miserably hot day filled with life-threatening danger and dust. And if her mum's reaction was anything to go by, she'd done a fine job. Jackie sat on the edge of the couch, her hands at her mouth, the bright light in her eyes wavering between horror and the romance of such grand adventure. Of course, the truth wasn't particularly romantic; the Doctor, wanting to see the first Ming emperor had missed the date by twenty years and they ended up in the dying days of the Mongol dynasty. He really needed to teach her how to operate the TARDIS.
Soon enough, the shadows in the room deepened and there was a knock on their door, followed by the Doctor's voice and Jack's laugh as they entered. Without waiting to be let in, of course. What was the challenge of a lock on the door, to a Time Lord with a sonic screwdriver and dodgy sense of privacy? Rose got up before her mother could react to the impropriety of entering without leave, and met the two men in the entry.
The sight of the pair of them chuckling together, seemed to set off something in Rose's head. Words he'd spoken just a few hours before, came back to her and she felt her lips pull into a thin, irritated frown. "I would've let you in."
The Doctor blinked at the ice in her voice and pocketed his screwdriver. "Thought you might have been carried away by your mum's thrilling tales of finding undergarments on offer, or what's really in the curry at--"
"Stop. Just stop. You drive me mad, you really do."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
"I am, I truly am." He protested his innocence vehemently and with some confusion.
Jack held up his hands and stepped between them. "Now kids, let's play nice. Rose, we found a little Italian place a few blocks away that looked pretty good. Go get your coat and your mom and we'll have a nice, quiet," he gave the Doctor a firm look, "pleasant dinner. Okay?"
"Yeah, alright," Rose allowed reluctantly.
"Wait a minute." The Doctor pulled the door back open and tucked his hands in his pockets. "Rose, get your coat, I'd like to talk with you. Jack, if you and Jackie want to meet us at the restaurant, we'll be there presently."
Rose narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Go on, then," the Doctor prompted. When she didn't move, he hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. "Please?"
Rose rolled her eyes and she and Jack went off to fetch her coat and divert her mum. She made a quick break from her mother, who, honestly, didn't seem to notice her much with Jack in the room. She almost felt sorry for leaving Jack with her, but decided he could probably handle anything Jackie threw at him. Most likely.
Back at the door, she followed the Doctor out into the cold, misty evening.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked as they walked down the stairs.
"No." Rose sighed and brushed a hand through her hair. "I know you don't do it on purpose."
"No. Not always. Well, sometimes. But not today, I swear."
She laughed and shook her head, both at him and at herself. It was almost impossible to stay angry with him. And damn him for knowing that.
"What d'you want to talk about?"
"Whatever it is you want to talk about. There's something on your mind."
Uncanny. Disturbingly so. It was no use trying to put him off, though. Not that she really wanted to, in some things she was definitely her mother's daughter. Forthright, they were, if nothing else.
"Why'd you tell Jack you didn't think I'd ever try and save you?"
The Doctor dropped his head. "Eavesdropping is a bad habit."
"You're a bad influence."
"Too right, I am." He grinned over his shoulder at her.
If she wasn't going to put him off, she certainly wasn't going to let him do it, either. He'd brought it up, hadn't he? "Doctor?"
"You heard me wrong, Rose."
"No, I think I heard you pretty clearly," she told him, temper hot and ready to flame up again.
They pushed out of the doors and the Doctor immediately grabbed Rose's hand, steering her across the grounds, toward a bit of grass and a bench.
"No, you didn't. I know you'd save me if you could, I've never doubted that. You did as much the first time we met. What I meant was, I know what I would do for you, I know the scale of that. And it's considerably more than knocking Autons over, or chasing Slitheen."
Tucking his coat around his legs, he sat down on the bench and tugged her down next to him.
"I've had quite a few companions in my years. Many were good, good people." He moved his hand over hers, shifting so their fingers laced together. "I was fond of most all of them, in my way. But I was always the Time Lord, one step removed. One step above, if you'll pardon me. My purpose, the battles fought, frequently took precedence; sadly, even over their security. But how many times, Rose? How many times since we met have I nearly let this world be destroyed because I couldn't, wouldn't put that battle, that purpose, above your life?"
He studied her face quietly for a time, his dark eyes glittering in the pale light from the street lamp. She ducked away from the uncomfortably intense examination, and looked out across the park. This sounded suspiciously like him about to do something ridiculously and stupidly noble -- or what he thought was noble -- like leave her behind where she'd be safe so he could make the decisions he felt he had to do without worrying about her. If he tried it, she'd throttle him.
"Of course," he continued after a moment. "Luckily for the world, you're more than clever enough to stop me being that daft."
Relieved, she choked on a laugh and let herself lean against his comfortably solid form.
"Do you see, Rose? I just forgot."
"Forgot what?"
"Forgot what it is to have somebody whose life is more important to me than mine, or some ideal, and most importantly, someone who can and will do for me what I'd do for them."
"Oh."
"I've never had someone who met the universe the same way I do. How odd that when I finally do she's a nineteen year-old London shop girl. Didn't expect that, you know? Never expected I'd find you. I'm so glad I did."
Completely at a loss for words, Rose stared at him. She tried to get her mind to work, but it didn't seem to want to. "So, you gonna stop waiting for me to leave?"
"I'll have to do, won't I?" He pulled his hand away from hers and dropped his arm around her shoulder. They sat companionably in the cold, damp night.
"That's what I meant when I told Jack what I did," he said quietly, almost contemplatively. "You shook the universe for me, you willingly threw down your life for mine. I never expected it. Maybe I should have, but," he paused and chuckled, "knowing in my head and knowing in my heart are two different things."
Rose nodded slowly, accepting that, letting her irritation go. She supposed that so long on his own, so long having to be the one who knew everything and always had to make the decisions to save or destroy, or destroy to save, he forgot he didn't have to do it alone.
"I saved Jack, didn't I?" she asked, giving voice to one of the other things on her mind. A niggling thing that left her joy at him alive tinged with dread.
"You did. He died and you changed time."
"I don't remember."
"'I bring life,' you said. I wasn't sure what you'd done, and didn't have time to think much about it."
"Is that ... is it going to be like the time I saved my dad? Reapers and all?"
"No. No, Rose. It's different. What happened with your dad, happened in your past, your timeline already established. A space of time and so many events between when your father died and when you met me. Changing that was like pulling a thread from a tapestry, it all started to shift and then fall apart around that. Saving Jack ... you had the whole vortex in you, you knew what you were doing."
It almost made sense. Maybe. "Like you said, when you land the TARDIS you become part of that timeline, but since it wasn't along in our past timeline, things already done, there wasn't much to unravel, right? 'Cause we weren't stepping on our own threads."
"Partly. Very good." Sounding both pleased and proud, he rubbed her shoulder gently.
"'I can see everything. All that is, all that was, all that ever could be'," Rose whispered, grasping at words like distant, failing echoes in her head. "That's what it was. What's the life of one man in all of that? I changed time. Not just an event, though, not just Jack's life, but the whole of time."
"Yes, you did."
"God." Her breath came out in a long puff, the enormity finally hitting her, finally putting the dreams and the faint song into some sort of perspective.
"Indeed."
"What else did I do?" she asked him desperately, horrified by the possibilities. "I don't remember, but if I could change the whole of time, what else could I have done? Anywhere, anywhen. Oh, my god."
He turned slightly on the bench, facing her more fully and pulling her more securely against his shoulder. "Rose, don't let yourself get too upset about it. Please. You may have had the vast power of time running through you, but you were still you. You'd do the things that you would do, nothing more. As far as I can tell -- and I won't lie and say I haven't been looking -- you only did two things: you ended the Time War and you gave Jack a second chance. There's not many people would carry that much power so selflessly."
"Oh." She didn't feel so selfless, she did it for him, because she couldn't bear the thought of a universe that didn't have the Doctor in it. That was fairly selfish, really.
"Just promise you won't make a habit of changing the whole of time, okay?"
She laughed finally and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Yeah, I can make that promise."
"What we do, Rose, is step into time. It swirls around us. We change its currents slightly. We might affect events, people, and things shift, and then we leave. It's moments, points, small ripples. We have to be careful because those ripples can unsettle things precarious. Most often, though, we're naught but a pebble tossed in the ocean. You and I, we exist outside of time."
"Yeah, I do get it now." She sighed and pushed her hair back off her face. "It's like how I finally figured out why you like Earth so much. Why you keep coming back. Despite what you say about us stupid, clay apes."
"Have you?" he asked, sounding maybe just a touch surprised.
"Out there," Rose waved her hand at the heavy, purple sky. "It's easy to forget the little things, the half-priced undergarments, and the chips, and football scores, and ... well, the big things wouldn't matter if there weren't any little things, would they? Why do you fight a war, if not so people can go about with their little things? And maybe they don't know, and maybe they never will, maybe they don't need to. But maybe we need to remember the little things, because that's why we do some of the things we do, and it's so easy to forget. That's why you brought me home today. It's what I needed."
She suddenly felt self-conscious under his regard and she shrugged. "I mean, not all of it. Some of it's adventures and seeing red skies and aliens that look like heads of cabbage and electrical storms a hundred light-years wide."
"And dogs with no noses," he said softly.
She snickered and looked back up at him. "How could I forget?"
"I have no idea. Brilliant things, those dogs."
She saw his free hand move, but the gentle brush of the backs of his fingers against her cheek still managed to startle her.
"And you're right. It's why I come back. It's why I need you. You remind me why it matters. Why all those wonderful things in the universe are wonderful things. So much time and it's so easy to think I've seen it all, and you remind me I haven't, and that what I have seen is still amazing. Some of it's dark, some of it's ugly, but it's not all of it. You don't let me get lost in that dark." He dropped his hand and slouched comfortably back against the bench.
"I told you I couldn't send you back again even if I wanted to, and I meant it. Seems I've only got it in me to do things like that once, and you don't let me get away with it. Determined, you are. Fierce and clever and full of life. Stubborn, too."
He was saying all the right words, words that made Rose feel secure and proud, but there was still so much she didn't know and didn't understand, particularly in the face of all his time. It was weird to feel peace and tension all at once.
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asked after a time when she hadn't replied to him.
"Yeah, 'course we are."
"I know it hasn't been easy lately. I should have told you long ago, but even I tend to fall into the conceit of 'ah, I've got all the time in the world'. I don't, none of us do."
"S'alright. You're still here. Maybe we don't have forever, but we've got today, yeah?"
Grinning her picked up her hand and stood, pulling her up with him. "We do. And we'll live it full, Rose."
They started off across the lawn, walking slowly, enjoying the company and the quiet sounds of the early evening. Something was still tickling at Rose, something she'd felt since she first stepped out of the TARDIS earlier that day. And now she started to wonder if she hadn't known what it was all along.
"Doctor, do you remember when we met? The second time, I mean, and I asked you who you were?"
"I do."
"What you told me about feeling the turn of the Earth?"
"Yes."
"Does it feel sort of like walking in a train? No, that's not right. Like walking in a plane. When you're sitting you can't feel it really, but you know you're flying, you know you're miles above the ground, but when you stand and walk, you can feel the movement, feel it shaking through your legs. Just a bit."
He stopped dead. With her hand still in his she was forced to stop with him. She turned to look at him, wondering if she'd said something wrong.
"Do you feel that right now, Rose?"
"Sort of. Like the ground's not so firm anymore."
He took a half-step up to her and gently took her chin in his hand, tilting her head so he could look her in the eye. "Does it feel like everything's moving around you? And you're not quite part of it? Like that pebble in the ocean?"
"Yeah, almost."
He dropped his hand and straightened. "Well ... that is interesting."
She cocked her head and tried to look back into his eyes, but he glanced away, across the park and into the mist. "Even just standing here now, we're making ripples, aren't we?"
"We are. Can you feel them, Rose?" His voice took on the hushed, almost overwhelming intensity she remembered from that first conversation so long ago. "Can you feel time around us? The eddies and the currents? Always shifting, always changing. Can you feel all the possibility?"
"I don't know. I don't know all what I feel. Only, it's not really feeling, is it? It's knowing, sensing it, like touch or smell, but not the same."
"Very clever," he muttered, almost more to himself than to her.
"Was it the time vortex?"
"Maybe. Or maybe your mind's more open to the time around it. The more you travel in time the more you start to feel it. One in a trillion, you are. Knew it when I met you," he declared with a touch of arrogance.
She raised her eyebrows skeptically and tried not to laugh. "Oh you did, did you?"
"'Course, I did. Why d'you think I asked you? Twice, mind."
She squeezed his hand and gave him a tug to start them walking again. "So what do we do now?"
"First off, we'd best go rescue Jack from your mum. Then I think we ought to go to the Orion Nebula. Can't believe I haven't taken you there before. You ever seen a star born? It's brilliant."
"Sounds like an excellent plan," she pronounced comfortably, feeling more settled for having finally sorted what had been bothering her for weeks.
"'Course it is. My plans are always excellent."
"What about that time at Orda-whatever?"
"Always bringing that up. It wasn't my fault. Civilization that old, you'd think they'd have more pride in their workmanship."
"Oh, right, of course," Rose agreed with a laugh.
In the distance, over the sounds of cars on the road and people returning home from work or shopping, a low rumble of thunder shook the mist surrounding them.
"That's odd," the Doctor said.
"What is?"
"Thunder. Did you hear it? This isn't really thunder weather. Too cold."
"I guess so."
Another rumble followed the first and Rose watched a wild smile spread over the Doctor's face. "Another reason I like Earth? Never boring."
A third crack of thunder tore open the sky and sent a sharp jolt through the ground beneath them.
The Doctor glanced down at Rose, grinning like a madman. "Think Jack can handle your mum for a time?"
Rose grinned back and nodded. "Yep."
The grin, if it was possible, got even broader and his eyes were fever-bright. "Up for a wee bit of trouble?"
"Always."
He laughed, an almost triumphant, joyful sound. "We'll live it full, Rose Tyler."
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