Chasing Ghosts
Because a sudden plot hole appeared in my fic 'Wasteland' I have been taking a break to work it through. However in celebration of the news I saw tonight, and because jessdoctorwho21 has demanded it, I put my mind to writing something new.
Hopefully a feel good reunion fic. What better kind of story is there!
Title: Chasing Ghosts
Author: Asimus
Rating: U/None
Characters: Ten/Rose Unknown companion
Genre: Romantic fluff of the reunion kind
Disclaimer: If they were mine... well I should LJ cut that...
Chasing Ghosts
He’s standing in a village hall, packed with young bodies, bumping and grinding and laughing in their maddening way to that awful music the youth of today listen to. The room is hot and claustrophobic, and he is desperately looking for his companion. That’s why he doesn’t see her at first, just another face in the sea of faces, his eyes skimming over the blond hair and pouting lips, it just not what he’s looking for. After all, he sees her face everywhere and he’s learnt to block it out. It doesn’t do to chase after ghosts during a crisis.
But then, like a delayed reaction, a pin drops in his mind and everything goes silent except for the heartbeat thudding in his ears. It was HER. And it’s like something out of a trashy romance novel, eyes meeting across a crowded room, and a look of joy that lights up her features and makes his stomach flutter, as he runs to her open arms warm and inviting. Only it’s not like that. He fights through the crowd, oblivious to the situation at hand, and refusing to get out of his way, despite his somewhat rude and abrupt method of pushing and shoving. By the time he reaches her, she’s gone.
He feels like dropping to his knees and screaming to the heavens. Why oh why is life so cruel? But there is rarely time for melodrama. Feeling dejected, his insides aching and his eyes burning, he turns to leave. He has a companion to find; a different one; and a world to save. But right now he needs fresh air.
The horde of youths are just as reluctant to let him leave as they were to let him in, and he fights, all elbows and shoulder barges, feeling a little panicked as the walls close in about him. He all but falls through those open doors into the brilliant sunshine of a late afternoon in august, and slams his back against the red brick wall, letting the coolness of the stone soothe the turmoil within.
It takes him a moment to realise that, adjacent to him, also backed against the wall, is one Rose Tyler, and that she’s looking at him. She’s a little older, and she wears frown lines where there were none before, her hair is longer and her roots are showing, but she’s here and looking at him! He pushes himself away from the support, bounding over to her with hyperactivity he hasn’t felt since her previous demise, and halts mere inches in front of her.
He grins, as does she. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling awkward. What does one say to the woman you love, but lost so long ago. ‘How have you been?’ ‘What you been up to?’ ‘Keeping busy?’
She takes the choice out of his hands, throwing her self into his arms and hugging him in the usual bone-crushing manner. It feels like old times, and he can’t do anything but return the hug.
Pulling away is the hardest thing he has done in a long time. Saving the world with her as his side once more is perhaps the easiest. Drinking tea and starring at each other from across a café table once the evil is thwarted is perhaps the most awkward.
“You said it was impossible.” She says at last.
“I thought it was.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I see that.”
They lapse back into silence. He’s dying to ask her how she did it, but part of him really doesn’t want to know. He will spend the rest of eternity kicking himself for missing the obvious, and reliving the agony of the last 12 months that need not of happened.
“I’m glad to see you.” And he kicks himself for that too. Last time they spoke, upon a beach in Norway, she had told him she loved him. He had floundered, unsure how to respond. Obviously, ‘I love you too’ would have been a great start, and not ‘quite right too,’ but for all his rambling, the Doctor wasn’t so great with words. Not words that mattered anyway. Actions were more his thing, touches of digits and comforting embraces, but the situation meant that they couldn’t touch and he had been left adrift.
“So how are things?” Roles of his tongue quite nicely, but again he doesn’t want to know. Either she got on with her life and is happy, in which case she will want to leave and go back to it any minute now. Or she spent the year in agony much like his own, and will now hate him with every fibre of her being. Both options make his skin crawl and his blood run cold. He can’t look her in the eye.
“I missed you.”
It was not the response he had expected, and the tone in which it was said made him glance away from the chip on the brim of his tea cup in time to see tears pouring from chocolate brown eyes he had honestly believed he would never see again. His chest tightens his own tears threatening, but he lets instinct take hold and he quickly rounds the table and drags the weeping woman into his arms. This is how it should have been before. The words ‘I love you’ could never truly express the way he felt on that beach, or how he felt right now, but it was a start.
“Quite right to.” He mutters, taking her cheeks in his palms and pressing a gentle chaste kiss to her lips. And soon they are both smiling, and the kisses aren’t quite so chaste, and he wonders why he never thought to do this before. For an all intelligent Time Lord, he really was a dork. And he voices this thought, and pretty much every other that passes through his mind, and Rose Tyler giggles and snuggles against his chest.
“Let’s go home.” She whispers, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the Tardis. He risks her mockery when he speaks utter cheese and says, “I already am.”
Hopefully a feel good reunion fic. What better kind of story is there!
Title: Chasing Ghosts
Author: Asimus
Rating: U/None
Characters: Ten/Rose Unknown companion
Genre: Romantic fluff of the reunion kind
Disclaimer: If they were mine... well I should LJ cut that...
Chasing Ghosts
He’s standing in a village hall, packed with young bodies, bumping and grinding and laughing in their maddening way to that awful music the youth of today listen to. The room is hot and claustrophobic, and he is desperately looking for his companion. That’s why he doesn’t see her at first, just another face in the sea of faces, his eyes skimming over the blond hair and pouting lips, it just not what he’s looking for. After all, he sees her face everywhere and he’s learnt to block it out. It doesn’t do to chase after ghosts during a crisis.
But then, like a delayed reaction, a pin drops in his mind and everything goes silent except for the heartbeat thudding in his ears. It was HER. And it’s like something out of a trashy romance novel, eyes meeting across a crowded room, and a look of joy that lights up her features and makes his stomach flutter, as he runs to her open arms warm and inviting. Only it’s not like that. He fights through the crowd, oblivious to the situation at hand, and refusing to get out of his way, despite his somewhat rude and abrupt method of pushing and shoving. By the time he reaches her, she’s gone.
He feels like dropping to his knees and screaming to the heavens. Why oh why is life so cruel? But there is rarely time for melodrama. Feeling dejected, his insides aching and his eyes burning, he turns to leave. He has a companion to find; a different one; and a world to save. But right now he needs fresh air.
The horde of youths are just as reluctant to let him leave as they were to let him in, and he fights, all elbows and shoulder barges, feeling a little panicked as the walls close in about him. He all but falls through those open doors into the brilliant sunshine of a late afternoon in august, and slams his back against the red brick wall, letting the coolness of the stone soothe the turmoil within.
It takes him a moment to realise that, adjacent to him, also backed against the wall, is one Rose Tyler, and that she’s looking at him. She’s a little older, and she wears frown lines where there were none before, her hair is longer and her roots are showing, but she’s here and looking at him! He pushes himself away from the support, bounding over to her with hyperactivity he hasn’t felt since her previous demise, and halts mere inches in front of her.
He grins, as does she. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling awkward. What does one say to the woman you love, but lost so long ago. ‘How have you been?’ ‘What you been up to?’ ‘Keeping busy?’
She takes the choice out of his hands, throwing her self into his arms and hugging him in the usual bone-crushing manner. It feels like old times, and he can’t do anything but return the hug.
Pulling away is the hardest thing he has done in a long time. Saving the world with her as his side once more is perhaps the easiest. Drinking tea and starring at each other from across a café table once the evil is thwarted is perhaps the most awkward.
“You said it was impossible.” She says at last.
“I thought it was.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I see that.”
They lapse back into silence. He’s dying to ask her how she did it, but part of him really doesn’t want to know. He will spend the rest of eternity kicking himself for missing the obvious, and reliving the agony of the last 12 months that need not of happened.
“I’m glad to see you.” And he kicks himself for that too. Last time they spoke, upon a beach in Norway, she had told him she loved him. He had floundered, unsure how to respond. Obviously, ‘I love you too’ would have been a great start, and not ‘quite right too,’ but for all his rambling, the Doctor wasn’t so great with words. Not words that mattered anyway. Actions were more his thing, touches of digits and comforting embraces, but the situation meant that they couldn’t touch and he had been left adrift.
“So how are things?” Roles of his tongue quite nicely, but again he doesn’t want to know. Either she got on with her life and is happy, in which case she will want to leave and go back to it any minute now. Or she spent the year in agony much like his own, and will now hate him with every fibre of her being. Both options make his skin crawl and his blood run cold. He can’t look her in the eye.
“I missed you.”
It was not the response he had expected, and the tone in which it was said made him glance away from the chip on the brim of his tea cup in time to see tears pouring from chocolate brown eyes he had honestly believed he would never see again. His chest tightens his own tears threatening, but he lets instinct take hold and he quickly rounds the table and drags the weeping woman into his arms. This is how it should have been before. The words ‘I love you’ could never truly express the way he felt on that beach, or how he felt right now, but it was a start.
“Quite right to.” He mutters, taking her cheeks in his palms and pressing a gentle chaste kiss to her lips. And soon they are both smiling, and the kisses aren’t quite so chaste, and he wonders why he never thought to do this before. For an all intelligent Time Lord, he really was a dork. And he voices this thought, and pretty much every other that passes through his mind, and Rose Tyler giggles and snuggles against his chest.
“Let’s go home.” She whispers, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the Tardis. He risks her mockery when he speaks utter cheese and says, “I already am.”