wishiknewwho: (JE kiss)
[personal profile] wishiknewwho
Title: Of Weed and Ouija
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: PG
Characters: Ten II / 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. 
Spoilers: Post-JE 
Summary: "Tell me my fortune, Rose Tyler." 
Author Notes: Um, I've never played with either of these things.

Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] nipplemuggins and [livejournal.com profile] salimali for being the fastest betas this side of the Mississippi.  Written for challenge 30 at [livejournal.com profile] then_theres_us.





“Tell me my fortune, Rose Tyler,” he says as he joins her at the table. He’s just a little bit high, a new experience for him. He’s only had a few hits off the joint Rose rolled a half hour before with clumsy hands, claiming she used to do it for a friend, but had only tried it a time or two.
 
“I can’t tell your fortune,” she says, gesturing at the Ouija board in front of her. “You have to ask a question.” She’s been smoking as well, and he loves the red colour it’s added to her cheeks, the way she giggles just a little louder than usual.
 
“Okay, show me how it works.” He studies the board, the letters and numbers printed in an ominous black lettering on the off-white paper. He wonders when Rose bought this, why in the world she has it, but he’s learned that there are a million things about her that he doesn’t know, that she’s changed in ways he cannot imagine. 
 
Rose takes his hands in hers and his breath catches in his throat. He’s held hands with her numerous times, not so much in this body, but plenty of times in the other’s body, only it’s never felt quite like this. He wonders at the downy little hairs on the backs of her hands, the whorls on her fingertips, the lines in her palm. She gives him a funny look, laughs nervously, and perches his hands over the wooden planchette and then places hers opposite.     
 
“How does this work?” he asks. On any other day, he wouldn’t even be considering playing with something as silly as a board and a piece of wood that are supposed to answer his questions about the future. But ever since he found himself in this body, he’s wanted to have the full human experience, to let go of science and numbers and things that make too much sense. He realises that confusion and chaos can be just as brilliant as order, and he revels in it. 
 
It was his idea to try the marijuana. Not two weeks after coming to this world, he had his first real encounter with alcohol. He’d drunk enough bright green drinks that he hoped never to see the colour again. He’d taken to doing other mad things, standing for long minutes in freezing rain, passing his hand over candle flames, running until he felt his lungs would collapse. It was all about testing his new body, seeing what was different and what was the same. Rose had accepted it all with an unruffled pleasantness, and while she hadn’t returned those words to him, or even shown him more than friendly affection, she’d been his willing cohort in most of his mad endeavours. She’d been the one to buy the weed. 
 
She walks her fingertips over his fingers and gives him a crooked smile when his eyes meet hers. “If I’m remembering right from when I was younger, you ask it a question, and then the indicator moves to your answer.”
 
His mind races, filling with explanations for how it all works, the way they will unconsciously guide the indicator to the answers they want or the answers they think are right. But he doesn’t say anything; the marijuana has left him with a nice, mellow feeling. His fingers are scant centimetres away from Rose’s, and this feels like a night for magical things happening. He’ll ask his questions and see what happens. “Okay,” he says, motioning for her to put her fingers back on the planchette. “Want to go first?”
 
She nods and furrows her brow as she thinks of a question. Finally, a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she sits up straighter in her chair. “Does the Doctor have a big gob?” she asks, her voice as serious as he’s ever heard it.
 
“Oi,” he says as she deliberately moves the indicator toward the bold YES near the top of the board. She raises her eyebrow at him, and he huffs. “Fine, my turn. Does Rose Tyler dye her hair?”
 
Her mouth falls into an O, but her laughter rings out in her flat as he forces the indicator to the correct answer. “Does the Doctor spend far too long on his hair?” she asks once the giggles have died out.
 
They go back and forth like this, asking silly questions, teasing each other affectionately, and he thinks about how this is how it’s always been between them. They are masters at deflecting tense situations, and everything is light and flippant until he asks a serious question.
 
“Does Rose Tyler love me?” He clamps his mouth shut as soon as the words are out; that wasn’t what he meant to ask at all, but the marijuana has weakened his inhibitions.
 
Rose’s hands freeze on the planchette and she looks up at him with dark eyes that are wide with fear. She licks her lips and swallows, and he doesn’t know if it’s just being high, but he swears he can see the wheels turn in her head.
 
He holds his breath and his eyes drop to the board, every instinct telling him to take it back, to make it into a joke, something they can laugh off and return to their silly game. He curses his stupid idea to try the weed, the way he is throwing himself into this new life with no regard for the consequences. He’s pushed her too hard, too far, too fast, and she’s probably about to let him down. He only hopes that she’ll be gentle. He’s more fragile now than he ever was.
 
He pulls his eyes up, away from the safety of the black letters and toward the danger of her eyes and what he might read there. He knows those eyes will tell him more than the Ouija board ever could.
 
He is astonished to see a warm glow there, her eyes brimming with so much more than he ever expected, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.  She puts her hands over his, her fingers working their way into the spaces between his fingers, and together they move the indicator until it points to YES.



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January 2012

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