An Awfully Big Adventure (2/2)
Feb. 10th, 2010 10:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wishiknewwhoTitle: An Awfully Big Adventure
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ten / 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: Another story set in a Series 2 that never ever ends.
Summary: Everyone grows up, everyone leaves home, and all adventures must come to an end.
Author Notes: Written for Challenge 24 at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
then_theres_us. The prompt was Peter Pan. All references are inspired by J.M. Barrie's Peter and Wendy, 1911. Also, this is freakishly long. You've been warned.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salimali for the beta and hand holding.
Planet PR7-692
He goes out every night after he thinks she’s asleep. He never mentions it, never tells her where he goes. He’s a little more cheerful, tries to make small talk with her about the weather and what she finds on her little rambles. He comments on the food they eat and a programme he’s started watching on the television. He doesn’t talk about the past, nothing that happened before they lost the TARDIS.
She hates that he’s shutting her out even further. She tries to get him to leave the hotel with her constantly, but other than a couple of quick walks, he refuses her. She wonders where he goes, what he’s doing, and why he never invites her to go with him.
After a few days, the mystery is killing her and she decides to follow him. She lies in her bed, forcing herself to breathe evenly and slowly, trying to keep still. She waits until he’s left, then springs into action, pulling on her jeans, top, jacket, and shoes while imagining the time it will take him to walk down the hallway, go down the lift, and exit the lobby. Once she’s sure he’s far enough ahead, she leaves.
She sees him the in the street, heading off several metres ahead of her. She follows, doing her best to make her footsteps quiet, the way he showed her when they broke into that building on the planet where the aliens had really good hearing.
Although it’s summer, it cool outside tonight and she pulls her jacket tighter around her. His stride is long, and she doesn’t know how she’ll keep up with him if he doesn’t stop soon and he’ll hear her if she runs. With every step, he gets a little further away from her.
He finally comes to a stop outside of a nondescript office building that she’s never noticed before. He regards the front door for a few moments before slipping around to the back. She follows behind him, darting into a shadow, her heart in her throat when he looks back.
“I know you’re there, Rose,” he says quietly, his voice holding a note of amusement that she is utterly grateful for. She isn’t relieved because she thought he’d be angry with her, she’s just glad to hear him sounding like his old self.
She steps out of the shadow and into the little pool of light coming from the street. “How long did you know?” she asks, moving towards him.
“Since you stepped out of the hotel,” he says, a tiny grin playing at his lips. He stuff his hands in his pockets and regards her warily.
She pouts, enjoying this interaction that is so much like she remembers. “And I was trying to do the silent footsteps,” she says.
He shakes his head. “You’re forgetting that I’m a Time Lord, Rose,” he says.
“So what are you doing anyway?” she asks, her eyes searching the building for whatever it is that has caught his interest.
He pulls his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and uses it to fiddle with the door, jiggling it until he gets it open. He flicks a switch on the screwdriver and zaps the security scanner. “I picked up a weird vibe from this place the other day.” He shifts his feet awkwardly for a moment and she realises that he feels bad about leaving her out. “They’re some sort of science lab, research I think. They have some strange technology. I want to check it out.”
“Okay,” she says, keeping close behind him, feeling a little hurt that he’s been pushing her away, but thrilled they have something to do that doesn’t involve sitting around the hotel room.
She follows him down long corridors, looking for anything that looks out of place, like it shouldn’t be there. He’s usually better at this sort of stuff than she is, but every now and then she sees the right thing, asks the right sort of question to help figure it out.
They go downstairs, flight after flight of stairs until she’s sure they are far underground.
“I thinks it’s down here,” he says, taking a right and leading her down another long corridor.
Twenty minutes later, they find themselves trapped in a room that is steadily filling with water.
“I knew it,” he says. “They don’t know how to use this thing, and it’s wrecked the plumbing.”
She has no idea what he’s talking about, but she’s more concerned with the water that’s already covering her knees. He can explain the science to her later.
“How are we going to get out?” she asks.
He is searching along the walls. “The door is deadlock sealed,” he says. “The sonic won’t open it.”
It’s her fault then. She’d let the door close behind her when they came in the room. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.
“It’s okay,” he says, pushing against the door as hard as he can. “We’ll figure it out.”
When the water is up to their waists, he ducks under and tries the sonic on the door handle, just in case that just this once it does work on deadlock seals. He comes up spluttering water, and she realises that they are probably not going to get out in time.
“Let me try again,” he says, going under. She swallows, waiting for him to come back up. If these are her last few minutes to live, she doesn’t want to spend them like this.
When he emerges, his hair is pressed flat to his forehead and he looks defeated. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispers. “For everything.”
She pushes herself through the water and finds his hand, holding it tightly in her own. “Don’t be sorry. I wouldn’t have missed all the things we’ve done, all the things we’ve seen for anything. You remember that.”
His fingers squeeze hers and it’s almost painful, but she doesn’t say anything, just pulls him into her arms. He’s been holding her every night, but she can’t remember the last time she held him. It feels good, pressed against him like this, even if they are about to die. She wonders if he will regenerate when he drowns, or if that respiratory bypass thing he has will save him. She doesn’t ask, though; she would rather think of him surviving.
It only takes ten minutes for the water to rise above their heads and then they’re treading water. She kicks off her trainers so she can keep herself afloat more easily. Her limbs grow tired quickly. She remembers a time when she swam every day and wishes she’d kept that up.
He moves closer to her, his forehead touching hers as their time dwindles down. “Rose,” he says.
“Yes?” Her arms and legs are slowing and her heart is pounding with the exertion. She won’t be able to last much longer.
“Would you mind...” his voice trails off and she thinks now is not the time for him to be shy.
“Mind what, Doctor?” she huffs out, her lungs tired of holding her breath for long stints to make it easier to float.
He frowns, closing his eyes for a moment. “What I’m trying to say is, may I kiss you?” He forces the words out and he looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.
She nods. “I’d like that.” He’s kissed her before, many times, but he hasn’t in ages.
His lips barely brush hers before they’re pulled apart. She’s jerked underwater, and comes up coughing, her lungs and throat burning from the water she’s swallowed.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
“Water pressure forced the door open,” he says. Seconds later his hand finds hers and he grips her tightly enough to bruise. “Hold your breath.”
She’s sucked under again and the deluge drags them from the room. He doesn’t let go of her hand. The water rushes out into the hallway, spreading until they’re splashing through ankle deep water. He pulls her back to the room, and she tries to protest, doesn’t want to go back in there where she was sure she would die. He won’t let go of her.
“I need to disable the device,” he says. He makes a couple of passes with the sonic screwdriver and something inside the little machine sparks and fizzes. “There.” His expression is grim, but satisfied. “It’s beyond repair now.”
She tugs on his hand, eager to leave, and they run. Adrenaline and relief flood through her veins as they burst out of the building and into the cold night. She’s freezing, soaked to the bone and not wearing any shoes, but grateful to be alive. She barely has time to catch her breath before she’s in his arms, his lips pressed against hers. It’s messy and certainly not the best kiss they’ve shared, he’s holding her too tightly and her wet clothes cling to her uncomfortably, but she doesn’t mind, because it is him and they are alive.
He finally pulls away and tucks her hair behind her ears as he presses his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” he says, his cool breath on her skin making her shiver.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s what we do, yeah?”
He shakes his head. “No.” His hands cup her face, his thumbs along her cheekbones, his fingers reaching down to stroke her neck. “I don’t mean for that. I’m sorry for everything else.” He kisses her again, just a chaste press of his lips to hers, but it warms her. “We’ll fix it. We’ll start living.”
And they do.
Neverland
He was determined to teach her how to surf.
“You know,” she said, eying the orange surfboard and his bright blue swimming trunks that hung precariously on his hips, “in order to teach something, you have to master it yourself.”
He scowled. “I’m offended, Rose Tyler.” He pointed his finger at her. “You know that I am getting quite good.”
Rose adjusted herself on the towel, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows so that she could look at him. “Of course,” she said. “When you’re not falling off the board.”
He moved closer to her, kicking sand on her towel in the process. “Look, there are two ways of doing this. Either you get in the water on your own or I’m dragging you in.” His eyes held hers, playful but threatening.
She swallowed, wishing those little looks of his didn’t have such an effect on her. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t whine when I’m better at it then you are.”
He bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement as she got up from the sand and let him lead her out to the water. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn to surf, it was just that she was afraid of falling and hitting her head on the board. She knew it was an irrational fear, and she knew that if she did fall, he’d be right there to catch her, but she couldn’t help it.
They went a little ways out into the water, just far enough that the waves wouldn’t jostle them too much. He showed her how to move from a sitting to a standing position on the board, his hands on her hips and thighs attempting to steady her but doing a better job of distracting her. After what felt like a hundred tries, she finally managed to keep her balance with some regularity.
They made their way out into the surf, the Doctor pulling the board and Rose swimming alongside it. After spending almost every day in the ocean for the past two weeks, she’d become quite a strong swimmer and she liked the peaceful feeling of being underwater, the rhythmic movements of her body as she sliced through the waves. Once they were far enough out, he helped her to climb onto the board, and she sat with her legs dangling on either side.
“What now?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.
He put his hand on her thigh to keep her from drifting away from him as the little swells bobbed the board up and down. “Now we wait for a wave.”
She nodded, feeling the anticipation in her veins. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
“You’ll do fine,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
They waited in silence for long moments, listening to the calming noise of the waves as they rolled in. She was just relaxing when the Doctor was tugging on her board.
“Okay, Rose, here it is!” He moved back and she got herself ready.
She didn’t move until he shouted at her to “drop in!” and then she got to her feet. She managed to stand for a few seconds, adrenaline and joy pounding through her as the wave carried her in. Then she lost her balance and wiped out. Being thrown underwater was disorienting for a moment, but then she felt herself rise to the top. She brushed her hair away from her face and wiped the water from her eyes. The Doctor was a few metres away, retrieving the surfboard.
“You did it,” he cried and she ran towards him. He caught her, lifting her and swinging her around, her feet kicking up water. They laughed as he set her down.
“I did it,” she said softly. The sunlight and the blue of the water was reflecting in his eyes as she dug her toes into the sand, rocked up, and kissed him.
The next day they bought her a bright pink surfboard.
Planet PR7-692
They move out of the city and buy a house in the country. He’s spent too many days staring out of that hotel window and the city holds nothing but bad memories for him.
They choose the house carefully, and she is surprised by how much effort he puts into it. He asks the estate agent a multitude of questions like “Is that the original hardwood in the dining room?” and “How old is the plumbing?” She isn’t sure if he really cares about these things or if it’s all a game to him, a way to cope, but she goes along with it.
The house is small and old with faded green siding, shingles that are turning up at the edges and a swing on the back porch. She feels a lump rise in her throat when she sees the swing, reminded of another place and another swing. He’s standing behind her, and he presses his face into her shoulder, telling her he remembers as well.
There are two bedrooms on the first floor, but there is never a doubt in either of their minds of where he’ll be sleeping. They visit an antique shop in town and buy a wrought iron bed, a table, two chairs, and a sofa. They buy a desk and bookshelves and turn the other room into a library.
They have all the money they could need thanks to the sonic screwdriver, but she gets a job anyway. She can’t bear to sit around the house all day and do nothing. There’s an opening at the coffee shop in town, and the owner tells her that she’ll teach her how to bake. She remembers cooking, when they lived in the other house, and how much she enjoyed it. She is excited to try her hand at cakes and pies and cookies. It’s not travelling on the TARDIS, and it’s not really making the universe better, but it’s doing something, and for now it will have to be enough.
He says that he doesn’t want a job, that he’d rather just tinker around the house and fix it up. She agrees, but makes him promise that he won’t sit around and brood. He promises.
A job finds him anyway. One of the patrons at the coffee shop, Sam, breaks his music player and she takes it home to the Doctor to fix. Then Emily’s television goes fuzzy. Word gets out and before they know it, he’s fixing anything and everything mechanical. He works out of the little shed behind their house. He tries to pretend like it doesn’t mean anything to him, but she can tell he is pleased with his work.
They spend their mornings and evenings together and their days apart and eventually they fall into a routine. They don’t talk about what happened, about losing the TARDIS and getting stuck on this planet, but he talks to her about his work and she tells him stories about the people who come into the cafe. She brings him home a slice of each new cake she bakes.
She finds him in the library late one evening. She’d gone to bed alone, a rare occurrence, but he’d been working in his shed and she hadn’t wanted to disturb him. When she awoke a few hours later and he still wasn’t there, she set out to find him.
He’s hunched over the desk, writing in something that looks like a journal. His glasses are perched on the top of his head.
“Doctor?” she asks, and when he starts at the sound of her voice, she realises that he hasn’t noticed her although she’s been standing there for almost a minute.
“Hey,” he says, smiling softly at her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Of course,” he says. He puts his pen in the journal and closes it.
She moves forward and around the desk, leaning against it so close that her pyjama-clad leg touches his. “You don’t have to always do that, you know,” she says, putting her hand over his where it rests on the desk. “You can talk to me. I’m a good listener.” She gives him a shy grin.
He rakes his other hand through his hair. “This is hard for me,” he says.
“You don’t have to talk,” she says. “I just want you to know that I’m here, if you need me.”
He nods and moves his hand from underneath hers so that he can pull her into his lap, gathering her to him in a hug. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Rose,” he says, his voice helpless, begging her to say something to make it better.
But she doesn’t know what to say. She can’t promise him that things will change, that everything will be okay; she doesn’t know if things will work out or not. Instead she holds him tightly, letting him press his face into her neck. She feels wetness against her skin and pulls him closer, threading her fingers into his hair.
“Let’s go to bed,” she says once his breathing has slowed and his grip has loosened. “It’ll look better in the morning, yeah?”
He fingers the dull key at her neck and her hand comes up to meet his. He kisses her softly and lets her pull him from the chair and lead him to their bedroom.
Neverland
They made love the first day it rained on the island. They woke up to dark clouds hanging in the sky, but they went about their usual routine, toast and tea on the porch and then down to the beach.
They weren’t there for an hour before the sky split open and the rain started to fall. They raced each other and the raindrops back to shelter, not bothering to rinse the sand from their feet and legs with the water hose on the side of the house.
Once through the back door, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, pressing his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. She responded, her lips opening under his as he walked her backwards to the bedroom. It was short work for him to untie her bikini top and then to undo the strings holding her bottoms around her. She shoved his shorts down his legs and he kicked them away. His eyes drank her in and she blushed under his gaze, but managed to give him a smile.
“We’re going to get sand in the sheets,” he whispered, his lips mapping the skin of her neck.
“I don’t care,” she said as they tumbled to the bed.
Planet PR7-692
He tells her he has a surprise for her. It’s a Saturday afternoon and she is in the kitchen, washing the dishes and looking out the window. She’s grown used to this simple life they’ve made here, but there are times when she still misses the travelling, the thrill of an adventure, the good feeling that went along with saving someone’s life, setting the timelines right.
But when he bounds into the kitchen, eyes bright and sunlight in his hair, she thinks things might be okay.
She dries her hands off on a dishtowel and follows him out the back door. He urges her along, moving behind her to put his hands over her eyes when they get closer to the shed.
“No peeking,” he says, his breath stirring the hairs that have fallen loose from her ponytail.
“No peeking,” she agrees.
He shuffles her along slowly and she hears the door to the shed open. He guides her a few steps inside and then removes his hands from her eyes.
In front of her is an old truck, gleaming a shiny red. She turns to him quizzically.
“I fixed it up for you,” he says, a little shyly. “I thought you might get tired of walking to work, and it’s going to be too cold in another month or two.”
“It’s mine?” she asks, her voice disbelieving, and tears spring to her eyes that he could be so thoughtful.
“All yours,” he says, eyes sparkling at her.
She’s never had a vehicle of her own before. “Thank you,” she breathes, launching herself at him and hugging him as hard as she can. “Thank you.” She wants to say the words over and over.
He holds her just as tightly. “Do you like the colour?” he asks. “I thought about pink, but then I thought that might be a bit too much.”
“I love it,” she assures him. “Now I just have to learn how to drive.”
“I can teach you,” he says as she pulls him toward the truck so that she can get a closer look.
She smiles at him and climbs inside.
Neverland
He told her constantly that it wasn’t real, that they were just playing an elaborate game of make believe. She knew he was doing it for her own good, so that she didn’t get too attached to the little house on the beach, to the town and its people, to what they had become. The TARDIS would heal before they knew it, and they’d be back to their old life.
He reminded of their travels, the little creatures that looked like rabbits on Bestoon that she had loved, that day they had spent on the anti-gravity fields in Folemnor. She knew that he was softening the blow and using the amazing things they’ve seen and done to entice her away from a normal life.
She wondered constantly what would happen when they got back to the TARDIS. As far as she could tell, the two of them would end with their holiday. But she didn’t want things to be awkward between them. She knew that it would hurt, him treating her like nothing more than a best friend again, but she accepted it for what it was. She knew what she was getting into when she let him kiss her, when she slept with him. He couldn’t be what she needed, but he was what she wanted. She was too naive to know the difference, and at the time, she was willing to take whatever he would give.
Planet PR7-692
She lies back, stretched out across the porch swing, her feet propped on the armrest. It is dark and she has headphones in her ears. She loves the music here, the sweet pop melodies and the lyrics that make no sense to her. She used the money she earned to buy a little music player and is constantly adding songs.
She has been enjoying the last few evenings of summer on the back porch, listening to music and looking up at the stars. She has chosen one, the tiniest one she can find, and decided that it is Earth. She doesn’t ask him what it actually is; she doesn’t want to know the truth. She spends many nights looking at it and imagining her mother. She’s always known there was the possibility that she might never go home, ever since she started travelling with him, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
She doesn’t hear the back door open, but she notices when he stands before her, blocking the porch light. She offers him a smile and sits up as he gently removes the headphones from her ears.
He breathes her name as he sits down next to her and takes her hand in his, but doesn’t say anything else. She moves closer to him, pressing her body against his.
They sit in silence, listening to the whistling of the wind in the trees and the call of the night birds indigenous to this planet. He turns to look at her, his eyes wide and bright under the yellow porch light. His fingers brush softly across her cheek then back into her hair, his fingertips against her scalp sending little shivers down her spine.
“Doctor?” she asks, not sure what he wants from her.
Still he doesn’t speak, just presses his lips to hers in a sweet kiss that she can feel all the way to her bones. His tongue pleads with hers and she moves to straddle his lap. She hesitates for a second before reaching up to unbutton his shirt.
“Is this what you want?” she asks, her hand moving under his collar to feel the skin there. She has to know that this is real this time, that what they are is no longer make-believe.
He nods and urges her arms upwards as he draws her t-shirt over her head. The air is cool on her skin and she shudders as gooseflesh pops out on her arms.
She pushes his shirt from his shoulders and her hands are shaking as she traces the freckles on his moonlit skin, comparing them to the stars she can see over his shoulder.
He sighs at her touch and his mouth finds hers again. They fumble with the rest of their clothes, having to move off one another just to get undressed, but they move back to their original position in the swing, her in his lap. She rocks against him, the swing swaying gently back and forth, kisses swallowing their quiet whimpers and murmurs of love.
The momentum builds and she cries out, her mouth pressed to his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. He holds her tightly like she’s the only thing that exists in the universe.
They’ve done this before, oh so long ago, but this, this feels like the first time.
Neverland
They only had one bad day during their entire holiday. She had gone out to buy food and when she came home she saw that he had tried to do the laundry. Although quite adept at cooking, the Doctor wasn’t as good at other domestic type things.
He was in the little closet where the washer and dryer were kept, cursing profusely as the soap bubbles erupted from the washing machine. There were large wet spots on his shirt and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s not funny,” he bit out, giving the machine a kick.
She froze, his words hurting her. He’d never spoken to her like that, never with such malice in his words. She bit her lip and moved to help him.
“You probably put too much soap in,” she said, grabbing one of the dirty towels to wipe up the mess.
“You think I don’t know that, Rose?” he snapped. “I’m tired of this. I want to get back to the TARDIS, out of this stupid house. I’m sick of all of it.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let herself cry, not in front of him. She told herself that he was just frustrated and taking it out on her, because there was no other way for him to let it out. Her patience was wearing thin though, and she didn’t want to put up with his mood swing. Dropping the soggy towel, noting with satisfaction as it landed on his trainers, she left.
“Take care of it yourself then,” she said, as she went to the back of the house to have a shower.
He found her later, just as she was waking from a nap. She opened her eyes and saw him leaning against the doorframe, watching her sleep.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing off from the door and walking over to the bed.
“I was just trying to help,” she said, sitting up and trying to bring her hair to some sort of order. “You didn’t have to shout.”
“I know,” he said. He sat down next to her and gingerly took her hand in his. “I just get angry sometimes. I don’t like being wrong.”
She nodded her agreement. “I thought you were having fun here,” she said, trying to keep the hurt from her voice.
“I am,” he said. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers one by one. “I’m just ready for an adventure. Back to the old life, you know.”
“I am, too,” she said. And she was pretty sure she meant it.
Planet PR7-692
They go on rides in her truck almost every weekend. They wake up with the sun, load the bed with food and blankets, and then set off. They spend perfect, gorgeous autumn days picnicking in a meadow, climbing a tiny mountain that he says is more of a hill, exploring caves. He fixes them up a pair of battered bikes and they go for long rides on dusty dirt roads. They roll up their jeans and wade in a freezing cold stream, giggling as they navigate the slippery rocks beneath their bare feet. Afterwards she makes him sit on her feet to warm them up. They make love in the truck, the gear stick poking her in the back as they move together. On a couple of occasions, they spend the night in the back of the truck, squished together in a large sleeping bag.
They lie on the grass on a red blanket, her head on his stomach. He idly plays with her fingers, bringing them to his lips for a kiss every now and then. His other hand roams through her hair and he almost has her asleep when he speaks.
“Are you happy, Rose?” he asks, his hands stilling for a moment.
She thinks for a minute, wanting to give his question fair consideration before answering. “Yes,” she says. “I kind of like this little life we’ve made here.”
He smiles and touches his lips into the inside of her wrist, an action he knows melts her.
She summons her courage. “And you, Doctor? Are you happy?” she asks quietly, her heart racing in her chest. She accepts that this isn’t the life he’d have chosen, and she feels the same. If she had her way, they’d be back travelling through space and time. But if he says that he’s miserable, she will be devastated.
He is silent for a long time. He closes his eyes, then opens them again, studying the clouds. His hand continues its ramble through her hair. Finally, he speaks. “Yeah, I think I am,” he says slowly and softly, a smile playing at his lips.
She grins and climbs atop him, her legs tangling with his as she kisses him, her lips pressing to his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, and finally his lips. He laughs into her mouth.
She never wants to leave this field, never wants to let go of this feeling. He neatly rolls her and her head spins as he lowers the zip on her hoodie.
It is only then that they notice that the key around her neck is glowing.
Neverland
After four weeks on the island, it was time to go back to the TARDIS, time to go home. Rose had both dreaded and looked forward to the day.
The Doctor had told her the night before that they would be leaving late the next morning. He wanted to check on the ship and make sure she was ready for travel, and Rose would have time to pack anything she wanted to take with them. He’d left the house that morning wearing his suit; she hadn’t seen him dressed like that in weeks.
She threw her things in a suitcase and then spent the rest of her time wandering around the house, committing it to memory. The sofa, where they cuddled and watched television, the kitchen where they’d ruined many meals and succeeded at a few, the bed where they’d made love night after night, where she’d grown closer to him than she ever thought possible.
She spent a long time regarding the swing on the front porch. She thought about asking him if they could take it with them, but he seemed too happy to be moving on, and she worried that he might say no.
She sat down and waited for him to return, idly swinging back and forth. It had been the best holiday she’d ever had, but like all holidays, it had to come to an end. And it wasn’t like she was going back to a miserable job; they had a good life on the TARDIS, the best life. But she couldn’t help but feel like they were leaving so much behind in this little house, in this little town that had been their home for the past month.
A little while later, he came bounding up the steps, a wide grin stretched across his face. “Are you ready, Rose?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot in his excitement.
She took one last longing look at the house, then reached out and took his hand. “Let’s go.”
Planet PR7-692
In the end, getting the TARDIS back is easy. He explains it to her, something about his brilliant ship managing to evade a black hole, and she’s sure that he goes further into the science of it all, but she doesn’t listen. She’s too busy worrying.
They’ve been through this before, going domestic for a while, before returning to the same old life that they’re used to. The last time, it was like the two of them had never been together. Once he’d entered those blue doors, he seemed to forget that just the night before he’d kissed her and whispered lovely things in her ear.
She doesn’t want that again. It hurt the last time, when they were only playing, but this time will be worse. This time she has let herself believe that it will last.
He gently unclasps the necklace from her neck and holds the key up between them. “Is this what you want, Rose?” he asks. “We could stay here longer, if you wanted.” His eyes meet hers and she sees that he is being honest with her, that he is willing to stay and all she has to do is say the word.
She swallows and presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She’s missed their life of adventure and there is so much good that they could be doing out in the universe. It’s not fair of them to hide away here when there are people who need them. “Let’s do it,” she says. “Let’s get her back and go.”
He nods and fishes the sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He adjusts the setting, aims it at the key, and moments later the TARDIS is before them. They both stare at it for a moment, as if they cannot believe what they are seeing.
He gets to his feet and is helping her to stand when she realises something. “Wait,” she says, halting them before they can take off again. “We can’t just swan off. We’ve made friends here. We need to tell them that we’re leaving. And there are a few things I’d like to take with me.” She’s thinking of the porch swing. It’s coming with them this time.
He nods. “We can do that. But maybe just a quick trip first? Just one night, and then we’ll come back?” He gives her a pleading look and she can’t deny him. Besides, she’s missed the ship almost as much as she has.
His hand is on the door when he stops them. “Rose?” he asks, his voice uncertain.
“Yes?” she says, leaning forward, tucking her chin over his shoulder.
“This is real, isn’t it?” he asks. “We’re real?”
She wraps her arms around him from behind and kisses his cheek, smiling as she breathes him in. “Yes, Doctor,” she says. “We’re real.”
They open the door to their little blue box and this time, everything changes.
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ten / 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: Another story set in a Series 2 that never ever ends.
Summary: Everyone grows up, everyone leaves home, and all adventures must come to an end.
Author Notes: Written for Challenge 24 at
then_theres_us. The prompt was Peter Pan. All references are inspired by J.M. Barrie's Peter and Wendy, 1911. Also, this is freakishly long. You've been warned.Thanks to
salimali for the beta and hand holding.Planet PR7-692
He goes out every night after he thinks she’s asleep. He never mentions it, never tells her where he goes. He’s a little more cheerful, tries to make small talk with her about the weather and what she finds on her little rambles. He comments on the food they eat and a programme he’s started watching on the television. He doesn’t talk about the past, nothing that happened before they lost the TARDIS.
She hates that he’s shutting her out even further. She tries to get him to leave the hotel with her constantly, but other than a couple of quick walks, he refuses her. She wonders where he goes, what he’s doing, and why he never invites her to go with him.
After a few days, the mystery is killing her and she decides to follow him. She lies in her bed, forcing herself to breathe evenly and slowly, trying to keep still. She waits until he’s left, then springs into action, pulling on her jeans, top, jacket, and shoes while imagining the time it will take him to walk down the hallway, go down the lift, and exit the lobby. Once she’s sure he’s far enough ahead, she leaves.
She sees him the in the street, heading off several metres ahead of her. She follows, doing her best to make her footsteps quiet, the way he showed her when they broke into that building on the planet where the aliens had really good hearing.
Although it’s summer, it cool outside tonight and she pulls her jacket tighter around her. His stride is long, and she doesn’t know how she’ll keep up with him if he doesn’t stop soon and he’ll hear her if she runs. With every step, he gets a little further away from her.
He finally comes to a stop outside of a nondescript office building that she’s never noticed before. He regards the front door for a few moments before slipping around to the back. She follows behind him, darting into a shadow, her heart in her throat when he looks back.
“I know you’re there, Rose,” he says quietly, his voice holding a note of amusement that she is utterly grateful for. She isn’t relieved because she thought he’d be angry with her, she’s just glad to hear him sounding like his old self.
She steps out of the shadow and into the little pool of light coming from the street. “How long did you know?” she asks, moving towards him.
“Since you stepped out of the hotel,” he says, a tiny grin playing at his lips. He stuff his hands in his pockets and regards her warily.
She pouts, enjoying this interaction that is so much like she remembers. “And I was trying to do the silent footsteps,” she says.
He shakes his head. “You’re forgetting that I’m a Time Lord, Rose,” he says.
“So what are you doing anyway?” she asks, her eyes searching the building for whatever it is that has caught his interest.
He pulls his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and uses it to fiddle with the door, jiggling it until he gets it open. He flicks a switch on the screwdriver and zaps the security scanner. “I picked up a weird vibe from this place the other day.” He shifts his feet awkwardly for a moment and she realises that he feels bad about leaving her out. “They’re some sort of science lab, research I think. They have some strange technology. I want to check it out.”
“Okay,” she says, keeping close behind him, feeling a little hurt that he’s been pushing her away, but thrilled they have something to do that doesn’t involve sitting around the hotel room.
She follows him down long corridors, looking for anything that looks out of place, like it shouldn’t be there. He’s usually better at this sort of stuff than she is, but every now and then she sees the right thing, asks the right sort of question to help figure it out.
They go downstairs, flight after flight of stairs until she’s sure they are far underground.
“I thinks it’s down here,” he says, taking a right and leading her down another long corridor.
Twenty minutes later, they find themselves trapped in a room that is steadily filling with water.
“I knew it,” he says. “They don’t know how to use this thing, and it’s wrecked the plumbing.”
She has no idea what he’s talking about, but she’s more concerned with the water that’s already covering her knees. He can explain the science to her later.
“How are we going to get out?” she asks.
He is searching along the walls. “The door is deadlock sealed,” he says. “The sonic won’t open it.”
It’s her fault then. She’d let the door close behind her when they came in the room. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.
“It’s okay,” he says, pushing against the door as hard as he can. “We’ll figure it out.”
When the water is up to their waists, he ducks under and tries the sonic on the door handle, just in case that just this once it does work on deadlock seals. He comes up spluttering water, and she realises that they are probably not going to get out in time.
“Let me try again,” he says, going under. She swallows, waiting for him to come back up. If these are her last few minutes to live, she doesn’t want to spend them like this.
When he emerges, his hair is pressed flat to his forehead and he looks defeated. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispers. “For everything.”
She pushes herself through the water and finds his hand, holding it tightly in her own. “Don’t be sorry. I wouldn’t have missed all the things we’ve done, all the things we’ve seen for anything. You remember that.”
His fingers squeeze hers and it’s almost painful, but she doesn’t say anything, just pulls him into her arms. He’s been holding her every night, but she can’t remember the last time she held him. It feels good, pressed against him like this, even if they are about to die. She wonders if he will regenerate when he drowns, or if that respiratory bypass thing he has will save him. She doesn’t ask, though; she would rather think of him surviving.
It only takes ten minutes for the water to rise above their heads and then they’re treading water. She kicks off her trainers so she can keep herself afloat more easily. Her limbs grow tired quickly. She remembers a time when she swam every day and wishes she’d kept that up.
He moves closer to her, his forehead touching hers as their time dwindles down. “Rose,” he says.
“Yes?” Her arms and legs are slowing and her heart is pounding with the exertion. She won’t be able to last much longer.
“Would you mind...” his voice trails off and she thinks now is not the time for him to be shy.
“Mind what, Doctor?” she huffs out, her lungs tired of holding her breath for long stints to make it easier to float.
He frowns, closing his eyes for a moment. “What I’m trying to say is, may I kiss you?” He forces the words out and he looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.
She nods. “I’d like that.” He’s kissed her before, many times, but he hasn’t in ages.
His lips barely brush hers before they’re pulled apart. She’s jerked underwater, and comes up coughing, her lungs and throat burning from the water she’s swallowed.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
“Water pressure forced the door open,” he says. Seconds later his hand finds hers and he grips her tightly enough to bruise. “Hold your breath.”
She’s sucked under again and the deluge drags them from the room. He doesn’t let go of her hand. The water rushes out into the hallway, spreading until they’re splashing through ankle deep water. He pulls her back to the room, and she tries to protest, doesn’t want to go back in there where she was sure she would die. He won’t let go of her.
“I need to disable the device,” he says. He makes a couple of passes with the sonic screwdriver and something inside the little machine sparks and fizzes. “There.” His expression is grim, but satisfied. “It’s beyond repair now.”
She tugs on his hand, eager to leave, and they run. Adrenaline and relief flood through her veins as they burst out of the building and into the cold night. She’s freezing, soaked to the bone and not wearing any shoes, but grateful to be alive. She barely has time to catch her breath before she’s in his arms, his lips pressed against hers. It’s messy and certainly not the best kiss they’ve shared, he’s holding her too tightly and her wet clothes cling to her uncomfortably, but she doesn’t mind, because it is him and they are alive.
He finally pulls away and tucks her hair behind her ears as he presses his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” he says, his cool breath on her skin making her shiver.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s what we do, yeah?”
He shakes his head. “No.” His hands cup her face, his thumbs along her cheekbones, his fingers reaching down to stroke her neck. “I don’t mean for that. I’m sorry for everything else.” He kisses her again, just a chaste press of his lips to hers, but it warms her. “We’ll fix it. We’ll start living.”
And they do.
Neverland
He was determined to teach her how to surf.
“You know,” she said, eying the orange surfboard and his bright blue swimming trunks that hung precariously on his hips, “in order to teach something, you have to master it yourself.”
He scowled. “I’m offended, Rose Tyler.” He pointed his finger at her. “You know that I am getting quite good.”
Rose adjusted herself on the towel, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows so that she could look at him. “Of course,” she said. “When you’re not falling off the board.”
He moved closer to her, kicking sand on her towel in the process. “Look, there are two ways of doing this. Either you get in the water on your own or I’m dragging you in.” His eyes held hers, playful but threatening.
She swallowed, wishing those little looks of his didn’t have such an effect on her. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t whine when I’m better at it then you are.”
He bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement as she got up from the sand and let him lead her out to the water. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn to surf, it was just that she was afraid of falling and hitting her head on the board. She knew it was an irrational fear, and she knew that if she did fall, he’d be right there to catch her, but she couldn’t help it.
They went a little ways out into the water, just far enough that the waves wouldn’t jostle them too much. He showed her how to move from a sitting to a standing position on the board, his hands on her hips and thighs attempting to steady her but doing a better job of distracting her. After what felt like a hundred tries, she finally managed to keep her balance with some regularity.
They made their way out into the surf, the Doctor pulling the board and Rose swimming alongside it. After spending almost every day in the ocean for the past two weeks, she’d become quite a strong swimmer and she liked the peaceful feeling of being underwater, the rhythmic movements of her body as she sliced through the waves. Once they were far enough out, he helped her to climb onto the board, and she sat with her legs dangling on either side.
“What now?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.
He put his hand on her thigh to keep her from drifting away from him as the little swells bobbed the board up and down. “Now we wait for a wave.”
She nodded, feeling the anticipation in her veins. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
“You’ll do fine,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
They waited in silence for long moments, listening to the calming noise of the waves as they rolled in. She was just relaxing when the Doctor was tugging on her board.
“Okay, Rose, here it is!” He moved back and she got herself ready.
She didn’t move until he shouted at her to “drop in!” and then she got to her feet. She managed to stand for a few seconds, adrenaline and joy pounding through her as the wave carried her in. Then she lost her balance and wiped out. Being thrown underwater was disorienting for a moment, but then she felt herself rise to the top. She brushed her hair away from her face and wiped the water from her eyes. The Doctor was a few metres away, retrieving the surfboard.
“You did it,” he cried and she ran towards him. He caught her, lifting her and swinging her around, her feet kicking up water. They laughed as he set her down.
“I did it,” she said softly. The sunlight and the blue of the water was reflecting in his eyes as she dug her toes into the sand, rocked up, and kissed him.
The next day they bought her a bright pink surfboard.
Planet PR7-692
They move out of the city and buy a house in the country. He’s spent too many days staring out of that hotel window and the city holds nothing but bad memories for him.
They choose the house carefully, and she is surprised by how much effort he puts into it. He asks the estate agent a multitude of questions like “Is that the original hardwood in the dining room?” and “How old is the plumbing?” She isn’t sure if he really cares about these things or if it’s all a game to him, a way to cope, but she goes along with it.
The house is small and old with faded green siding, shingles that are turning up at the edges and a swing on the back porch. She feels a lump rise in her throat when she sees the swing, reminded of another place and another swing. He’s standing behind her, and he presses his face into her shoulder, telling her he remembers as well.
There are two bedrooms on the first floor, but there is never a doubt in either of their minds of where he’ll be sleeping. They visit an antique shop in town and buy a wrought iron bed, a table, two chairs, and a sofa. They buy a desk and bookshelves and turn the other room into a library.
They have all the money they could need thanks to the sonic screwdriver, but she gets a job anyway. She can’t bear to sit around the house all day and do nothing. There’s an opening at the coffee shop in town, and the owner tells her that she’ll teach her how to bake. She remembers cooking, when they lived in the other house, and how much she enjoyed it. She is excited to try her hand at cakes and pies and cookies. It’s not travelling on the TARDIS, and it’s not really making the universe better, but it’s doing something, and for now it will have to be enough.
He says that he doesn’t want a job, that he’d rather just tinker around the house and fix it up. She agrees, but makes him promise that he won’t sit around and brood. He promises.
A job finds him anyway. One of the patrons at the coffee shop, Sam, breaks his music player and she takes it home to the Doctor to fix. Then Emily’s television goes fuzzy. Word gets out and before they know it, he’s fixing anything and everything mechanical. He works out of the little shed behind their house. He tries to pretend like it doesn’t mean anything to him, but she can tell he is pleased with his work.
They spend their mornings and evenings together and their days apart and eventually they fall into a routine. They don’t talk about what happened, about losing the TARDIS and getting stuck on this planet, but he talks to her about his work and she tells him stories about the people who come into the cafe. She brings him home a slice of each new cake she bakes.
She finds him in the library late one evening. She’d gone to bed alone, a rare occurrence, but he’d been working in his shed and she hadn’t wanted to disturb him. When she awoke a few hours later and he still wasn’t there, she set out to find him.
He’s hunched over the desk, writing in something that looks like a journal. His glasses are perched on the top of his head.
“Doctor?” she asks, and when he starts at the sound of her voice, she realises that he hasn’t noticed her although she’s been standing there for almost a minute.
“Hey,” he says, smiling softly at her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Of course,” he says. He puts his pen in the journal and closes it.
She moves forward and around the desk, leaning against it so close that her pyjama-clad leg touches his. “You don’t have to always do that, you know,” she says, putting her hand over his where it rests on the desk. “You can talk to me. I’m a good listener.” She gives him a shy grin.
He rakes his other hand through his hair. “This is hard for me,” he says.
“You don’t have to talk,” she says. “I just want you to know that I’m here, if you need me.”
He nods and moves his hand from underneath hers so that he can pull her into his lap, gathering her to him in a hug. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Rose,” he says, his voice helpless, begging her to say something to make it better.
But she doesn’t know what to say. She can’t promise him that things will change, that everything will be okay; she doesn’t know if things will work out or not. Instead she holds him tightly, letting him press his face into her neck. She feels wetness against her skin and pulls him closer, threading her fingers into his hair.
“Let’s go to bed,” she says once his breathing has slowed and his grip has loosened. “It’ll look better in the morning, yeah?”
He fingers the dull key at her neck and her hand comes up to meet his. He kisses her softly and lets her pull him from the chair and lead him to their bedroom.
Neverland
They made love the first day it rained on the island. They woke up to dark clouds hanging in the sky, but they went about their usual routine, toast and tea on the porch and then down to the beach.
They weren’t there for an hour before the sky split open and the rain started to fall. They raced each other and the raindrops back to shelter, not bothering to rinse the sand from their feet and legs with the water hose on the side of the house.
Once through the back door, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, pressing his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. She responded, her lips opening under his as he walked her backwards to the bedroom. It was short work for him to untie her bikini top and then to undo the strings holding her bottoms around her. She shoved his shorts down his legs and he kicked them away. His eyes drank her in and she blushed under his gaze, but managed to give him a smile.
“We’re going to get sand in the sheets,” he whispered, his lips mapping the skin of her neck.
“I don’t care,” she said as they tumbled to the bed.
Planet PR7-692
He tells her he has a surprise for her. It’s a Saturday afternoon and she is in the kitchen, washing the dishes and looking out the window. She’s grown used to this simple life they’ve made here, but there are times when she still misses the travelling, the thrill of an adventure, the good feeling that went along with saving someone’s life, setting the timelines right.
But when he bounds into the kitchen, eyes bright and sunlight in his hair, she thinks things might be okay.
She dries her hands off on a dishtowel and follows him out the back door. He urges her along, moving behind her to put his hands over her eyes when they get closer to the shed.
“No peeking,” he says, his breath stirring the hairs that have fallen loose from her ponytail.
“No peeking,” she agrees.
He shuffles her along slowly and she hears the door to the shed open. He guides her a few steps inside and then removes his hands from her eyes.
In front of her is an old truck, gleaming a shiny red. She turns to him quizzically.
“I fixed it up for you,” he says, a little shyly. “I thought you might get tired of walking to work, and it’s going to be too cold in another month or two.”
“It’s mine?” she asks, her voice disbelieving, and tears spring to her eyes that he could be so thoughtful.
“All yours,” he says, eyes sparkling at her.
She’s never had a vehicle of her own before. “Thank you,” she breathes, launching herself at him and hugging him as hard as she can. “Thank you.” She wants to say the words over and over.
He holds her just as tightly. “Do you like the colour?” he asks. “I thought about pink, but then I thought that might be a bit too much.”
“I love it,” she assures him. “Now I just have to learn how to drive.”
“I can teach you,” he says as she pulls him toward the truck so that she can get a closer look.
She smiles at him and climbs inside.
Neverland
He told her constantly that it wasn’t real, that they were just playing an elaborate game of make believe. She knew he was doing it for her own good, so that she didn’t get too attached to the little house on the beach, to the town and its people, to what they had become. The TARDIS would heal before they knew it, and they’d be back to their old life.
He reminded of their travels, the little creatures that looked like rabbits on Bestoon that she had loved, that day they had spent on the anti-gravity fields in Folemnor. She knew that he was softening the blow and using the amazing things they’ve seen and done to entice her away from a normal life.
She wondered constantly what would happen when they got back to the TARDIS. As far as she could tell, the two of them would end with their holiday. But she didn’t want things to be awkward between them. She knew that it would hurt, him treating her like nothing more than a best friend again, but she accepted it for what it was. She knew what she was getting into when she let him kiss her, when she slept with him. He couldn’t be what she needed, but he was what she wanted. She was too naive to know the difference, and at the time, she was willing to take whatever he would give.
Planet PR7-692
She lies back, stretched out across the porch swing, her feet propped on the armrest. It is dark and she has headphones in her ears. She loves the music here, the sweet pop melodies and the lyrics that make no sense to her. She used the money she earned to buy a little music player and is constantly adding songs.
She has been enjoying the last few evenings of summer on the back porch, listening to music and looking up at the stars. She has chosen one, the tiniest one she can find, and decided that it is Earth. She doesn’t ask him what it actually is; she doesn’t want to know the truth. She spends many nights looking at it and imagining her mother. She’s always known there was the possibility that she might never go home, ever since she started travelling with him, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
She doesn’t hear the back door open, but she notices when he stands before her, blocking the porch light. She offers him a smile and sits up as he gently removes the headphones from her ears.
He breathes her name as he sits down next to her and takes her hand in his, but doesn’t say anything else. She moves closer to him, pressing her body against his.
They sit in silence, listening to the whistling of the wind in the trees and the call of the night birds indigenous to this planet. He turns to look at her, his eyes wide and bright under the yellow porch light. His fingers brush softly across her cheek then back into her hair, his fingertips against her scalp sending little shivers down her spine.
“Doctor?” she asks, not sure what he wants from her.
Still he doesn’t speak, just presses his lips to hers in a sweet kiss that she can feel all the way to her bones. His tongue pleads with hers and she moves to straddle his lap. She hesitates for a second before reaching up to unbutton his shirt.
“Is this what you want?” she asks, her hand moving under his collar to feel the skin there. She has to know that this is real this time, that what they are is no longer make-believe.
He nods and urges her arms upwards as he draws her t-shirt over her head. The air is cool on her skin and she shudders as gooseflesh pops out on her arms.
She pushes his shirt from his shoulders and her hands are shaking as she traces the freckles on his moonlit skin, comparing them to the stars she can see over his shoulder.
He sighs at her touch and his mouth finds hers again. They fumble with the rest of their clothes, having to move off one another just to get undressed, but they move back to their original position in the swing, her in his lap. She rocks against him, the swing swaying gently back and forth, kisses swallowing their quiet whimpers and murmurs of love.
The momentum builds and she cries out, her mouth pressed to his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. He holds her tightly like she’s the only thing that exists in the universe.
They’ve done this before, oh so long ago, but this, this feels like the first time.
Neverland
They only had one bad day during their entire holiday. She had gone out to buy food and when she came home she saw that he had tried to do the laundry. Although quite adept at cooking, the Doctor wasn’t as good at other domestic type things.
He was in the little closet where the washer and dryer were kept, cursing profusely as the soap bubbles erupted from the washing machine. There were large wet spots on his shirt and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s not funny,” he bit out, giving the machine a kick.
She froze, his words hurting her. He’d never spoken to her like that, never with such malice in his words. She bit her lip and moved to help him.
“You probably put too much soap in,” she said, grabbing one of the dirty towels to wipe up the mess.
“You think I don’t know that, Rose?” he snapped. “I’m tired of this. I want to get back to the TARDIS, out of this stupid house. I’m sick of all of it.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let herself cry, not in front of him. She told herself that he was just frustrated and taking it out on her, because there was no other way for him to let it out. Her patience was wearing thin though, and she didn’t want to put up with his mood swing. Dropping the soggy towel, noting with satisfaction as it landed on his trainers, she left.
“Take care of it yourself then,” she said, as she went to the back of the house to have a shower.
He found her later, just as she was waking from a nap. She opened her eyes and saw him leaning against the doorframe, watching her sleep.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing off from the door and walking over to the bed.
“I was just trying to help,” she said, sitting up and trying to bring her hair to some sort of order. “You didn’t have to shout.”
“I know,” he said. He sat down next to her and gingerly took her hand in his. “I just get angry sometimes. I don’t like being wrong.”
She nodded her agreement. “I thought you were having fun here,” she said, trying to keep the hurt from her voice.
“I am,” he said. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers one by one. “I’m just ready for an adventure. Back to the old life, you know.”
“I am, too,” she said. And she was pretty sure she meant it.
Planet PR7-692
They go on rides in her truck almost every weekend. They wake up with the sun, load the bed with food and blankets, and then set off. They spend perfect, gorgeous autumn days picnicking in a meadow, climbing a tiny mountain that he says is more of a hill, exploring caves. He fixes them up a pair of battered bikes and they go for long rides on dusty dirt roads. They roll up their jeans and wade in a freezing cold stream, giggling as they navigate the slippery rocks beneath their bare feet. Afterwards she makes him sit on her feet to warm them up. They make love in the truck, the gear stick poking her in the back as they move together. On a couple of occasions, they spend the night in the back of the truck, squished together in a large sleeping bag.
They lie on the grass on a red blanket, her head on his stomach. He idly plays with her fingers, bringing them to his lips for a kiss every now and then. His other hand roams through her hair and he almost has her asleep when he speaks.
“Are you happy, Rose?” he asks, his hands stilling for a moment.
She thinks for a minute, wanting to give his question fair consideration before answering. “Yes,” she says. “I kind of like this little life we’ve made here.”
He smiles and touches his lips into the inside of her wrist, an action he knows melts her.
She summons her courage. “And you, Doctor? Are you happy?” she asks quietly, her heart racing in her chest. She accepts that this isn’t the life he’d have chosen, and she feels the same. If she had her way, they’d be back travelling through space and time. But if he says that he’s miserable, she will be devastated.
He is silent for a long time. He closes his eyes, then opens them again, studying the clouds. His hand continues its ramble through her hair. Finally, he speaks. “Yeah, I think I am,” he says slowly and softly, a smile playing at his lips.
She grins and climbs atop him, her legs tangling with his as she kisses him, her lips pressing to his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, and finally his lips. He laughs into her mouth.
She never wants to leave this field, never wants to let go of this feeling. He neatly rolls her and her head spins as he lowers the zip on her hoodie.
It is only then that they notice that the key around her neck is glowing.
Neverland
After four weeks on the island, it was time to go back to the TARDIS, time to go home. Rose had both dreaded and looked forward to the day.
The Doctor had told her the night before that they would be leaving late the next morning. He wanted to check on the ship and make sure she was ready for travel, and Rose would have time to pack anything she wanted to take with them. He’d left the house that morning wearing his suit; she hadn’t seen him dressed like that in weeks.
She threw her things in a suitcase and then spent the rest of her time wandering around the house, committing it to memory. The sofa, where they cuddled and watched television, the kitchen where they’d ruined many meals and succeeded at a few, the bed where they’d made love night after night, where she’d grown closer to him than she ever thought possible.
She spent a long time regarding the swing on the front porch. She thought about asking him if they could take it with them, but he seemed too happy to be moving on, and she worried that he might say no.
She sat down and waited for him to return, idly swinging back and forth. It had been the best holiday she’d ever had, but like all holidays, it had to come to an end. And it wasn’t like she was going back to a miserable job; they had a good life on the TARDIS, the best life. But she couldn’t help but feel like they were leaving so much behind in this little house, in this little town that had been their home for the past month.
A little while later, he came bounding up the steps, a wide grin stretched across his face. “Are you ready, Rose?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot in his excitement.
She took one last longing look at the house, then reached out and took his hand. “Let’s go.”
Planet PR7-692
In the end, getting the TARDIS back is easy. He explains it to her, something about his brilliant ship managing to evade a black hole, and she’s sure that he goes further into the science of it all, but she doesn’t listen. She’s too busy worrying.
They’ve been through this before, going domestic for a while, before returning to the same old life that they’re used to. The last time, it was like the two of them had never been together. Once he’d entered those blue doors, he seemed to forget that just the night before he’d kissed her and whispered lovely things in her ear.
She doesn’t want that again. It hurt the last time, when they were only playing, but this time will be worse. This time she has let herself believe that it will last.
He gently unclasps the necklace from her neck and holds the key up between them. “Is this what you want, Rose?” he asks. “We could stay here longer, if you wanted.” His eyes meet hers and she sees that he is being honest with her, that he is willing to stay and all she has to do is say the word.
She swallows and presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She’s missed their life of adventure and there is so much good that they could be doing out in the universe. It’s not fair of them to hide away here when there are people who need them. “Let’s do it,” she says. “Let’s get her back and go.”
He nods and fishes the sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He adjusts the setting, aims it at the key, and moments later the TARDIS is before them. They both stare at it for a moment, as if they cannot believe what they are seeing.
He gets to his feet and is helping her to stand when she realises something. “Wait,” she says, halting them before they can take off again. “We can’t just swan off. We’ve made friends here. We need to tell them that we’re leaving. And there are a few things I’d like to take with me.” She’s thinking of the porch swing. It’s coming with them this time.
He nods. “We can do that. But maybe just a quick trip first? Just one night, and then we’ll come back?” He gives her a pleading look and she can’t deny him. Besides, she’s missed the ship almost as much as she has.
His hand is on the door when he stops them. “Rose?” he asks, his voice uncertain.
“Yes?” she says, leaning forward, tucking her chin over his shoulder.
“This is real, isn’t it?” he asks. “We’re real?”
She wraps her arms around him from behind and kisses his cheek, smiling as she breathes him in. “Yes, Doctor,” she says. “We’re real.”
They open the door to their little blue box and this time, everything changes.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-02-10 05:57 pm (UTC)You know, it has been one of the few fics I've ever read that has had me cross with the Doctor. He was so mean to Rose in the beginning, pushing her away and then sneakily stealing her affection whilst she slept. I was rooting for Rose to smack him to high heaven. Thank goodness she has more patience than me !!
As I've told you, brilliant :D
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Date: 2010-02-15 05:02 pm (UTC)I don't care if it's wrong that I'm so happy to make you angry with the Doctor.
Thanks again for all of your lovely comments and help on this. You are a star.
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Date: 2010-02-10 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 05:22 pm (UTC)And I love to live in a land of happy endings.
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Date: 2010-02-10 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 05:34 pm (UTC)And I love the thought of him making pizza too. ;)
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Date: 2010-02-10 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-10 08:32 pm (UTC)**squishes story**
(And psst you marked this Ten II not Ten - that will send some of my flisters running. ;) )
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Date: 2010-02-10 08:39 pm (UTC)And thanks for the heads up...I went back and fixed it.
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Date: 2010-02-11 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 04:05 am (UTC)And I quite emphatically believe the TARDIS knew all about all of it. She knew what they needed to do...
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Date: 2010-02-15 06:23 pm (UTC)I never thought much about the TARDIS in this one, but you just might be right. Maybe she was working on my subconscious. ;)
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Date: 2010-02-11 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 06:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-15 07:38 pm (UTC)And it might be evil of me, but I'm glad this one had you all over the place. ;) Was what I was going for.
Thank you as always for your lovely comments.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-11 04:25 pm (UTC)I really loved this! It starts out as playing house and then turns into the real thing-- Brilliant! Parts of it made my heart quiver but that was soon remedied.
Excellent story telling!
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Date: 2010-02-15 07:57 pm (UTC)I took the playing house idea from Peter Pan, when he and Wendy pretend to be a mum and dad to the lost boys.
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Date: 2010-04-04 11:51 am (UTC)Delightful, detailed writing, too, where even when I was upset with what was happening, I loved just absorbing your words. Love it, love it. I think I'm going to track down more of your stories!
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Date: 2010-04-06 02:19 pm (UTC)Hope you enjoy the rest of my stuff.
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Date: 2010-05-31 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-08 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-26 06:15 pm (UTC)Part 1 can be found here: http://wishiknewwho.livejournal.com/58760.html#cutid1