Eyes Wide Open (8/?) [Birthday Fic for [livejournal.com profile] salimali]

Mar. 31st, 2010 10:54 am
wishiknewwho: (JE close-up kiss)
[personal profile] wishiknewwho
Title: Eyes Wide Open
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: PG
Characters: TenII / Rose
Dislcaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future. Title taken from the song "Naked as We Came" by Iron and Wine.
Spoilers: Post JE.
Summary: Rose and the human Doctor find their way after Journey's End.
Author Notes: Sorry this took so long.  I'll try to be more on the ball from now on.

Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] nipplemuggins for the beta.


The Doctor’s flat would be ready for him on Saturday. He and Rose spent the days leading up to the weekend picking out his furniture and buying necessities. He found himself overwhelmed with all the choices, but Rose proved invaluable in helping him to narrow it down. He told her that he wanted his flat to have a personal feel like hers did, and she helped him choose things that he liked and guided him toward things that she said made her think of him.
 
Saturday and Sunday were set aside for painting, then he’d move his things in on Monday, and spend his first night in his new place on Tuesday.
 
The Doctor and Rose woke up early on Saturday morning and after a quick breakfast went to his flat and got to work. He wanted his flat to be colourful, and they’d settled on a warm chocolate for the living room, deep red for the kitchen and dining area, pale blue for the office, and a dark orange for his bedroom.
 
They began by doing the edging for the entire flat. Rose said it was the worst thing about painting, and that if they finished that, the rest of it would go by quickly. They worked in separate rooms, sometimes calling out to one another, but mostly working in silence. From time to time he could hear Rose singing as she worked, sweet little pop songs that suited her voice.
 
Once they were finished it was time for lunch. They sat cross-legged on the floor of the dining room and ate the sandwiches and crisps they’d packed that morning. Rose had a smudge of red paint on her cheek, and he thought it made her look adorable.
 
Then it was time for the actual painting, and hopefully the moment when the flat would begin to feel like his own. They started in the living room, each of them armed with a paint roller. He took a wall and Rose took the one opposite.
 
“Did you paint your flat by yourself?” he asked, dipping his roller into the paint they’d carefully poured into the tin. The floor was covered, but he didn’t want to make any more of a mess than he had to.
 
“I did,” Rose answered, running her roller up and down her wall, the deep colour easily covering the neutral beige. “Well, Jake and Mickey helped, but I did most of it myself.”
 
He put his roller to the wall, and the paint immediately began running down the sheetrock in rivulets. Rose shook her head and moved to help him. She took the roller from his hands and quickly caught the running paint before it could make a mess.
 
“Like this,” she said, handing him back the roller and putting her hands over his, showing him how to roll the paint on. “Don’t use an up-and-down motion. That’ll make streaks. Make it go in arcs.”
 
“Okay,” he said, barely paying attention to what she was doing or saying, too busy breathing in her scent and basking in her warmth. He pressed his mouth to hers and stole a quick kiss. He was just considering letting go of the roller so that he could wrap his arms around her when she pushed him away playfully.
 
“Stop distracting me,” she said, laughing and returning to her own wall.
 
“You distracted me first,” he argued good-naturedly before resuming his work.
 
They chatted as they painted, their voices accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of the rollers going along the walls. It took nearly an hour to finish the living room, and another to finish the kitchen and dining room. He painted the front bathroom while Rose washed out the paintbrushes and rollers. When he’d finished, he found her in the living room, lying on her back, her eyes wandering over the room.
 
“What are you doing?” he asked, lowering himself to sit next to her. 
 
“Just looking,” she said. She bent her legs at the knee and put her feet flat on the floor.
 
“Do you like it?” he asked. He couldn’t say why, but it was very important that she like his home.
 
She glanced over at him, her eyes sad but sincere. “I do,” she answered. 
 
“Good,” he said. He reached across the small distance between them and took her hand. “We’re going to make some good memories here.”
 
“We are?” she asked, and there was a hint of levity in her voice, assuring him that she was all right.
 
“Oh yes,” he said. He tugged on her hand and pulled her up until they were both standing. Throwing his arms wide, he gestured to the living room around him. “You see this room, Rose?”
 
She nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I see it. I’m standing in it.”
 
“This is the room where we’re going to watch telly. Where we’ll curl up on the sofa and you’ll rub my feet after a long day at work.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
 
“Oh you think so?” she asked, smirking.
 
He pulled her along into the kitchen. “This is the kitchen, Rose. I’m going to cook you dinner here, and no matter what you say, I will not burn it. It will not only be edible. You, Miss Tyler, are going to ask for seconds.” He swept them into the dining room, which wasn’t really separate from the kitchen. “And here’s where I’ll eat my breakfast and think about when I’m going to see you next.”
 
She smiled at that and he raced her down the corridor to the study. 
 
“Here’s where I’ll try to read or get work done, but I’ll be too busy thinking of you, wondering what you’re doing, and I’ll get distracted. On nights when you have homework, you’ll hole up in here and I’ll bring you a cuppa and help you study.”
 
“Yeah,” she agreed and let him lead her to the bedroom.
 
“And here’s where we’ll...” And that was as far as he got before his voice dropped off as he realised the implication of where they were standing and what he could say. “Well, we’ll talk about what we’ll do in here later.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.
 
Her cheeks were tinted pink, just as he assumed his were, but she gave him a cheeky grin. “How much later?” she asked.
 
“You,” he said in a playfully reprimanding voice as he tugged her out of the room and away from the embarrassing situation, “are too naughty for your own good.”
 

~o~

 

It was late Monday evening by the time they got his things moved into the new flat. He didn’t have much, just his new furniture, clothes, and a few kitchen and bathroom necessities. Rose had promised him that he would buy more things over time, and before he knew it, he’d have a house full of stuff. He hoped so. Despite the new paint on the walls and the carefully chosen decorations, the flat didn’t really feel like a home yet. Rose told him it wouldn’t until he actually lived in it and made some memories there.
 
He and Rose made the short trek back to her flat, where he would spend the night before moving into his own flat the next day. Technically, he could spend the night tonight—everything was ready for him—but he had told Rose that he wasn’t moving until Tuesday. He’d got used to living with her, and no matter how much he knew that he needed his own flat, that he and Rose needed to have separate places for a while so that their relationship could grow naturally, the thought of leaving her terrified him.
 
He’d come to depend on her for so much. Superior being that he was, he never gave much thought to getting by in a new place, but this was so different. He could no longer swan in and out as he pleased; he actually had to stay in one place and make a life for himself, a concept that was unfamiliar to him. It helped having Rose there to hold his hand, to guide him in the right direction when he encountered something new, but he didn’t want that to be the basis of their relationship. Although he knew she’d never see him that way, he didn’t want to feel like a burden to her, this person she had to take care of. Once he got himself sorted, got the hang of being a human, they would be equals. They could take care of each other.
 
But his fear of leaving her was more than just his need for her to show him the ropes. He’d grown accustomed to seeing her each morning when he woke, to coming home to her in the evenings. They ate breakfast and dinner together. She put on her makeup while he brushed his teeth, the two of them jostling for position at the crowded sink. Even when she wasn’t in the same part of the flat as him, he could still hear her, could still feel her presence. It had been like that when she’d lived with him on the TARDIS, and once she’d been pulled into the other universe, he’d nearly come apart with the loneliness of his empty ship. He worried that it would be the same once he was alone in his flat.
 
Rose threaded her fingers with his as they got off the lift, giving him a shaky smile as she got out the key to her flat. He knew she was thinking the same thing he was, wondering if she could stand the quiet of her own flat once he was gone.
 
He swallowed. Maybe he was making a terrible decision. Maybe this wouldn’t help them to build a relationship at all, but would push them away from one another. Maybe he would get busy with his job and Rose would find her own life at university, making loads of new friends as she was bound to do, and then move on from him. Maybe living in the same flat would be the only thing to keep them together, and he was going to give that up.
 
He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up next to Rose’s. No, he couldn’t let himself think like that. He was the Doctor and she was Rose Tyler. They’d lost too much and come too far to let anything come between them. They would make it work.
 
He caught her as she was moving toward the kitchen to find them something to eat. She looked at him, momentarily confused, as he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She hugged him back, one of her arms going around his waist, the other clutching in the collar of his shirt. He held her for longer than a hug would normally last, pressing his face to her neck and breathing her in.
 
“Doctor?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. 
 
He moved back a bit, loosening his hold on her. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we, Rose?” he asked softly.
 
Her hand moved up to cup one of his cheeks and she pressed her lips to the other. “Of course we are.”
 
He closed his eyes and let her touch comfort him. “I’m sorry,” he said.
 
“What for?” she asked. Her hand moved back into his hair and he sighed at the little tingles he felt as her fingers threaded through it.
 
“Putting you through this,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to see her watching him carefully.
 
She smiled bravely at him. “It’s okay,” she said. “Like I told you, I don’t like it. But it is something you need, and I won’t deny you that. We’re going to be fine.”
 
“Are you sure?” he asked. He was feeling better, more confident in his decision, but there was a lingering suspicion that he was disappointing her.
 
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’ll be here. And we’ll see each other all the time. I’m not letting of you that easily, Doctor, not when I just got you back.” She kissed him, her lips insistent against his.
 

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not letting you go either,” he whispered fiercely before kissing her again. 


Nine




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