Warm hands skimmed down her arms, across her chest and down, down…
Rose awoke from the dream with a jump, her body tingling. The neon glow of her alarm clock told her at was a little after seven in the morning and the early morning sunlight filtered into her room. She sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes. She focused on the cream coloured suit that hung on her door.
‘My wedding day,’ she thought, expecting a thrill. It didn’t come. She was getting married and she wasn’t excited. More… resigned. Oh her mother thought it was great, Rose could hear her singing off-key along with the radio. But she felt oddly detached. The memory of the dream rose in her mind and she groaned in frustration. The hands she'd fantasised on her body were not those that would be doing it later. She felt sick.
Jackie paused in her singing. She frowned as she heard her daughter bolt to the bedroom and throw up.
‘Nerves,’ she thought, or maybe… Jackie smirked. Oh well she wouldn’t be the first woman in the world to bloom soon after her wedding.
Rose stood shakily and turned the bath taps on. As she waited for the tub to fill, she brushed her teeth to get the taste out of her mouth. Pouring in a good dollop of bubble bath, she swished the water round. The water level got higher and higher. When it nudged the overflow Rose turned the taps off. She took off her dressing gown and sank into the hot water. It warmed her cold body, soothing her, relaxing her. And as her muscles relaxed she felt something deep within her break. Hugging her knees to her chest, Rose wept silently.
Jackie brushed her daughter’s hair, arranging it just so and fastening the ‘do with a clip decorated with flowers. Rose had refused the meringue dress and veil. It wasn’t like she was getting married in a church. No the new cream suit would do. It was perfect for a simple registry wedding. Rose sighed.
“What’s up love?” Her mother asked.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Rose enquired.
Jackie thought back to the throwing up. “Oh yes. Mickey’s okay. He’s steady and he does love you. And it’s not like you’ve got anyone else in the works.”
“Apparently not,” Rose whispered, fighting back tears.
When her mother had left the room, Rose opened the jewellery box that sat on her desk. She lifted out a gold chain. At first glance it seemed simple, but the handiwork was intricate, delicate. The colour of the metal shifted from buttery yellow to palest lemon as she fingered it tenderly. It had been a birthday present, when she’d celebrated her twentieth. She smiled faintly. Where she had been that day, she hadn’t even been born yet. She remembered the look in his eyes as he’d handed over the small velvet box. In that second Rose decided and carefully fastened the chain around her neck.
Mickey shifted impatiently. The suit itched and generally annoyed him. But Rose had insisted.
“I want you looking decent,” she told him in a voice that brooked no argument. When had her got so fiery? She’d always been determined, but now… There was something he couldn’t put his finger on. It was like she’d had a lifetime of experience without going anywhere.
He hated suits, he decided. And it had cost a bomb and that was just for loaning it. Still, he’d be able to take it off later. He had absolutely no plans of wearing it to the club. Rose had gone very quiet when he’d told her where they were spending their reception. Something haunted her face, and then the next moment she’d smiled and told him it sounded great.
The door opened and Jackie came in, beaming in that way mothers at weddings did. Rose followed her. Mickey had to admit that she looked stunning. He grinned at her and got a wane smile in response. She approached the registrar who smiled at them both.
“Good morning,” he said, and began the service.
Rose barely heard the words he spoke; they washed over her leaving no imprint.
“So if there is anyone who knows of a reason why this man and this woman should not be joined…”
A sudden gust of wind blew through the room, interrupting proceedings. Rose focused as it swept through her hair, looking up startled. An oh-so familiar whine filled the room and she turned towards it, the small posy dropping from her limp fingers. Her mother screamed and Mickey cowered back as a vague shape appeared, then solidified. A blue box sat in the room.
“What the hell…” Jackie cried out, but Rose ignored her. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.
The door opened and he stood there, grinning at her impishly.
“Did I mention that it also travels in time?” The Doctor asked her. A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped Rose’s lips. He held out a hand. She didn’t need ‘asking’ twice, crossing the room despite the cries of her mother and Mickey. Her eyes were locked to his, and everything she needed to know was in his steady gaze.
“One or twice,” Rose replied softly as she took his hand.
“Ya comin’ then?”
A/N: It had to be done, ok? :P And yes I know there's a regeneration due, but I'm in denial.