A Teaspoon And An Open Mind: A Doctor Who Fan Fiction Archive
Ninth Doctor
Not Quite by spastasmagoria [Reviews - 8] Printer
Author's Notes:
Well, she’d faced a Dalek and an evil skin tack. She could take on an annoying Time Lord cohabitating in the same body as an annoying Time Agent. Drawing in a steadying breath, she opened the bathroom door.

Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing as usual. Thanks to Rosesbud for beta awesomes.


Title: Not Quite (Sequel to Almost)
Author: moi
Rating: PG (fluff)
Characters: Jack, Rose, Ninth Doctor, Jackie
Spoilers: Everything through The Doctor Dances
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply They're like little dolls you can dress up and play with, but I always put my toys back when I'm done.
Archive: Feel free, just drop me a line so I know (my ego is like that)
Beta: Thanks to Rosesbud for betaing awesomes

Summary: An accident on an alien planet leaves Jack and the Doctor as…roommates, as it were. And quite frankly…Rose has had enough.

XYZ

“Well, this can’t go on,” Rose said, sitting back in the jump chair, feet on the console. She began munching on her thumbnail shortly thereafter, refusing to look at the Doctor. “I’m not travellin’ with…you. This. Him. All in there.” She knew she was making absolutely no sense. But this… really was unprecedented. And she said this as a girl who’d seen the sun expand and lived in a trans-dimensional police box. “I mean, I don’t know which one I’m talking to at any given moment and and--Jack, you dirty lousy stinkin’ pervert!”

The Doctor winced, ducking his head. “Don’t hit me again. I fell asleep, I had NO IDEA what he was up to.”

Hands coming to rest on his hips Rose saw the immediate change in demeanor and voice. “Like hell. He didn’t exactly stop me, either.”

Rose watched the Doctor have some kind of fit that looked like a nervous breakdown as he wrestled control from the other inhabitant of his body. His hands clenched then reached upward, like he was going to strangle somebody, possibly himself, and he held his breath, head twitching back and forth for a moment. “Jack, shut the hell up. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You don’t need to leave. I’m going to find a way to get him out of here, even if it means killing him.”

“Hey!”

Rose found that she’d gone from biting her thumbnail to sucking on it. “Boys!” she interrupted as the Doctor drew breath again to rail against himself. “This is makin’ my head hurt. So just… figure it out amongst yourselves. I’m going back to bed, and…and then I’m going to visit my mum. I’m going to wash some clothes, find out what’s happening on the soaps, ask mum about her latest flame, eat all her biscuits and search for that one CD I keep leaving there. What you two…gentlemen…do in the interim is up to you. All I know is that neither of you better bother me until this is sorted.”

She marched back to her room, satisfied that she’d made herself perfectly clear. She wasn’t going to deal with that kind of, well, childishness. Not when she’d spent nearly two days half-worried out of her mind over Jack…all because the Doctor was too proud to admit he had a--a guest in his skull. And then Jack tries to…

As soon as he was awake, she was going to slap him again. It was one thing for Jack to flirt with her. It was one thing for Jack to kiss her. But it was something else entirely when Jack started…using the Doctor as some kind of… love puppet. That was just… getting a free shag under false pretenses.

Crawling back under the covers, she sighed, turning off the light. And what of the Doctor? He protested his little hearts out… which was a tad insulting.

Alright, object lesson learned–it had been rude of her to imply he wasn’t a man. Or a good looking one, back when they’d first met Jack. But really–was she such a disgusting ape that he wouldn’t even--you know? But then again… Jack had said the Doctor hadn’t exactly made a fuss.

Clenching her eyes shut she forcefully rolled over, shoving the pillow under her head just a little harder. Some days she felt like she understood him completely. Some days… Women were from Earth. Time Lords were from…well, wherever they were from. His ways were not her ways, and things that she might be inclined to interpret in a certain manner may not actually be the manner in which they were intended.

Or they could be spot on.

Either way–she just couldn’t be…in the middle of the Jack-Doctor internal struggle-fest any longer. And she was running out of clean clothes. She feared the TARDIS laundry facilities (and couldn’t figure them out, but that was beside the point) so her mum’s front loader was just the thing to cure her clothing ills.

XYZ

Hand on the doorknob of her mother’s front door Rose turned around, glaring at the Doctor. Well, not the Doctor specifically, it was just… in order to glare at Jack, it was necessary to glare at the Doctor. “I don’t know why you insist on coming with me.”

With a self-satisfied grin that she couldn’t place as being the Doctor’s or Jack’s, the Doctor hoisted an over-stuffed red bag. “Did you really want to carry this all by yourself?”

Turning the handle, Rose slowly opened the door of her mother’s flat. “Jack… I appreciate the chivalry.” She had to work a bit to swallow back her exasperation. “But I wish you two would just… get yourself sorted.” She called out to her mum, announcing her presence.

“Geeze…try to help out a friend…”

Her mother responded from the kitchen, asking who Rose had brought with her. The sink turned on then off and she heard the sounds of her mother clearing something away.

“Nobody needs your kind of help,” the Doctor responded to Jack in a harsh whisper.

Rose glared at the Doctor again, then shooed him away, towards the door. “Go. I’m not explaining this to my mother.”

Then she heard Jackie’s voice, loud and clear and…in the same room. “Not explaining WHAT to your mother?”

Rose turned around quickly, stepping between her mum and the Doctor. Think, think… “That the Doctor was actually being helpful and carrying my things for me. Figured you’d start checking for alien spores, if he appeared too pleasant or helpful.” Teeth grinding together, she turned back to her ‘favourite” pair of people. “But they were just leaving, weren’t they?” Oh bugger. Had she just said that?

“They?” Her mother asked. “Is that like the royal we?” She took the bag from the Doctor, looking him over suspiciously. “And what’s with this only coming to see me when you are out of clean clothes? Don’t you have a washing machine on that fancy ship of yours?”

There was a twinkle in those blue eyes and Rose had a feeling whatever was about to come out of the Doctor’s mouth would be…motivated by Jack. She glared at the Doctor like an angry parent, making a gesture behind her mother’s back for him to just zip his lips.

They were both just… so dead when this was over. Both of them. Neither of them could just--behave for five minutes. It was like when she used to baby-sit those twin boys a few floors down. They were just a force of nature.

The Doctor looked very odd with Jack’s Grin of Impossible Charm upon his face. Creepy, even. “Well, you know…” He picked up Jackie’s free hand. “It’s just so lovely to see you again.” Jack did a really lousy impression of the Doctor. “How’s about we let Rose get on with her laundry. We can go out to lunch--or something.” Lips hovering over her hand, he almost kissed her, before she tugged free then slapped him one.

Holding his cheek the Doctor asked Jackie what that had been for.

Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell did you think it was for?”

Rose wondered if there was a hole she could crawl into. And die there. Sliding between her mother and the Doctor, she put both hands on his chest, her eyes shooting daggers, laser bolts and those stars that ninjas threw. “Just get out. Get out before I do something we’ll all regret.”

XYZ

It was dark outside now; it had taken that long to explain everything to her mother. Well, not everything. She left out the whole part were Jack tried to….ugh. It wasn’t so much that it made her feel dirty as it made her feel… a little squick. Not the way she’d imagined a threesome with…

Oh God. She couldn’t believe she’d just thought even half of that.

Her mum took the empty plate dotted with chocolaty crumbs away from the table. “Something wrong, dear?”

Rose came back to the then and there. “Oh nothing. Just wondering if I’m going to go back to the TARDIS and find a bloodbath, or both of them watching the Lion King again or something. It’s just been…bizarre in the TARDIS lately. Like a farce. Doors opening and slamming and everything.”

Jackie sat back down, patting her daughter’s hand. “Maybe you should just stay here, then. If they can’t get themselves figured out.”

Oh, like that was an option. Oh no, they’d get themselves sorted if she had to…beat both of them into thinking up an answer. Lord, that sounded…wrong. She meant… she’d whip them into…

Rose drained the rest of her cup. It was her tenth cup of tea (so it seemed, at least) so she excused herself from the kitchen table. “All that liquid hasta go somewhere,” she explained.

As she was finishing, she heard the front door open. Then there was her mother’s muffled squeals and the Doctor’s low tones. Great…it begins again.

While she was in the bathroom she pulled her hair clip off, gathered her hair back up and twisted it, reclipping it so that those annoying bits that had come loose weren’t tickling her ears any more. She reapplied her mascara and lip gloss, sniffed her mother’s new shampoo and fixed the collar of her button-down blue shirt (that’s how she knew the laundry plight was tough–she was reduced to wearing ‘good’ clothes).

Was she hiding in the bathroom?

Yes, she was hiding in the bathroom.

Well, she’d faced a Dalek and an evil skin tack. She could take on an annoying Time Lord cohabitating in the same body as an annoying Time Agent. Drawing in a steadying breath, she opened the bathroom door.

She took one step towards the kitchen then stopped. “Gunna look in my room for something!” she called out to her mother, ducking across the hall, into the relative safety of her violently pink bedroom, and sat down on the bed and stared at the carpet, hands folded in her lap.

Men were the same all over. Didn’t matter if they were from another flat on the Powell Estate, the fifty-first century, or wherever it was that Time Lords came from. They were all little boys. She’d heard girls with boyfriends and married women say that for years and hadn’t believed it…or perhaps really understood what it meant. Now that she really got it…she wondered how she could reconcile that fact with her existence and live with it. How did women live with men being so…male?

She needed chocolate or something. Chocolate ice cream with chunks of chocolate in it. Dark chocolate. It was the only thing that could make this better. Men were…male and only chocolate could fix that, somehow. Or at least somehow dull the pain of living with two men stuck in the same body being irritating and annoying all the time.

The door opened, flooding the dark room with light from the hall. “This a private pity party?”

She looked up at the silhouette of the Doctor, hand on the door knob, jacket swinging open. And she needed chocolate because the Doctor was so…when he was standing there like that. “Dunno. You didn’t RSVP. So. Are we alone yet?”

He closed the door behind him (TOTALLY inappropriate, she knew, but really–some conversations really didn’t need to involve her mother) and turned on the nearest lamp. “Yes, Jack has been safely relegated back to his own body. You can thank my brilliant brain for that.”

Rose let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could have taken another minute of you two going at it–I mean… never mind.”

The Doctor sat next to her on the bed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Relieved to the…relieve-eth power relieved.”

A single bursting chuckle escaped Rose’s lips. “I don’t think I learned about that when they were covering maths in school. Relieved to the relieve-eth power.”

The Doctor nudged her. “New-new-new maths. If you multiply by a hand of bananas and subtract half a cup of coffee, you get the type of hell I’m going to put Jack through once we escape the gravitational force of your mother’s shining personality.”

“Speaking of which…where is Jack?” Rose asked with moderate alarm–she was learning to trust those bad feelings she sometimes got when the Doctor was involved.

The Doctor absently looked around the girly-girl room “Apologising profusely to your mother.”

The front door creaked open then clicked closed softly in the distance, the sound muffled by the bedroom door. The two occupants of the bedroom glanced at each other with wide eyes. Rose opened the bedroom door. “Mum?” she called out cautiously. “Mum?”

Glancing back at the Doctor, they both seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for an answer. Nothing was forthcoming.

The Doctor got to his feet, joining Rose, resting his hand on the small of her back. “Jack?”

Silence. Once again their eyes met, this time for only a second. They both scrambled though the now-empty flat and to the front door. Practically falling through the threshold Rose groaned. “I can’t believe he did that.”

Leaning against the door frame, the Doctor folded his arms over his chest. “He’s Jack.”

The moan Rose let out turned very quickly into a whimpery squeal. “And my mum is my mum.” She rubbed her cheek. “God. I hate both of them.” Maybe she could drown herself in a warm vat of chocolate. It would be a blissful way to go.

Putting an arm around her, the Doctor squeezed, a contented and slightly mischievous smile spreading across his lips. “And somehow, in some twisted universal balancing act kind of way… they deserve each other.”

That time Rose DID whimper, but hugged him back. “This is so not fair.”


THE END
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