Fic: It Must Have Been Love (But It’s Over Now)
Title: It Must Have Been Love (But It’s Over Now)
Pairing: Rose/OC, Rose/Mickey, Doctor/Rose
Rating: PG 15
Spoilers: Up to Doomsday
Summary: This is her first kiss after all. And she knows this is love.
Disclaimer: The usual.
It’s 1996; The Spice Girls have just released their first single, Dolly the sheep is cloned and Rose Tyler has her first crush on Ben Mackenzie.
He is tall and blonde and quite the troublemaker and she loves it. She sits two rows behind him and one desk to the left, trying to catch his eye whenever he turns to snigger with his best mate Sam Jones.
One day, when her mother isn’t looking, she sneaks a tube of red lipstick to school from the makeup chest. At lunch giggling with the girls in the loos, they all pout in the mirror just like Posh Spice and smear the colour all over their lips. And teeth. And Keisha has some on her cheek but Rose doesn’t want to say anything.
They all walk out of the bathroom, swaying their hips and blowing kisses to the second graders who have climbed out of the sandpit to stare. Rose thinks it’s all rather sexy, and determined she struts over to Ben Mackenzie.
She stands in front of him full of audacity because she’s ready for this and she’s wearing lipstick to prove it. Eyes squelched shut because maybe she’s not quite that brave, she leans over and quickly plants a kiss on his cheek, leaving a bright red strain on pale skin. She looks down coyly at her feet, not because she’s in any way shy but because she’d seen it all the sexy girls do it in the movies.
A moment later she feels a faint brush of lips against hers, so faint that later she’d think she imagined it had the whole school not been there to document the event. She gasps and deliberately looks into his eyes (even though he’s trying to look anywhere but into hers) and thinks it ever so romantic. This is her first kiss after all.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2000; the millennium bug elapses, the creator of Peanuts dies and Rose, finally a teenager, gets her first real boyfriend.
Because Ben Mackenzie was just a kid and what did he know about love anyway.
Charlie Jordan is older; a whole one year, four moths and two weeks older. He’s going to high school next year. And he’s experienced. Kissed plenty of girls she hears.
But that doesn’t bother Rose because he promised her she’s special. Rose believes him because she hasn’t heard that one before.
They walk around school together, holding hands and sometimes sneaking kisses when they feel a bit daring.
One day she walks out of class with her mates. They’re right proper mates they are, linked arms and secret smiles and matching friendship bracelets to prove it. And then they’re pushing her towards him and Rose doesn’t protest because friends know best.
His tongue is in her mouth, thick and wet and her eyes have popped open and she’s frozen on the spot and she knows she must look like a right idiot but she doesn’t care
And he’s asking her out but he may as well be proposing for the jitters she has in her stomach. She almost forgets to say yes because her lips are curved in the widest smile a thirteen-year-old Rose could pull and then nothing matters for the rest of the day, then the rest of the week because Rose Tyler has a date. Her first date.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2003; The War in Iraq begins, Michael Jackson is detained for alleged child molestation and Rose, all grown up (she thinks), meets Jimmy Stone.
Jimmy’s a rock star. Well, he’s in a band and that’s close enough. Dating a musician is every girl’s dream and Rose Tyler gets to live it.
Rose is getting ready for his concert. Make up scattered in front of her and fingers blending and priming as she looks into the dressing room mirror. And this time she doesn’t smear lipstick all over her teeth. See, Rose Tyler is a big girl now. She knows how to put on make up and please boys. What else is there to know about growing up?
Jimmy is on stage and Rose is in the front row. Some stupid blonde stomps on her foot in an attempt to get close enough to Jimmy and profess her undying love. Rose smirks because she knows Jimmy is all hers but shoves her elbow into the girl’s ribs anyway. The blonde glares but Rose forgets all about her because Jimmy’s just said her name. He’s dedicated the first song to her.
When he comes off stage he’s sweaty and it’s not quite as sexy as it looks in the movies because the smell is rather pungent and Rose tries very hard to remember that most girls would kill for this when he mashes his lips against hers.
Later when they’re in his hotel room and Rose is sore in places she wasn’t aware could be sore; he smiles at her and proclaims her brilliant.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2004; A tsunami hits South East Asia, Martha Stewart is sent to jail and Rose, over her rebellious phase (well, mostly anyway), is ready to settle back home with her mum and Mickey Smith.
And it’s nice. Mickey is sweet and kind and he doesn’t grab her bottom in front of his friends and call her ‘Doll’.
Her mum says he’s a keeper, that Mickey. Got an apprenticeship as a mechanic lined up and everything.
Rose doesn’t have any A-levels and a man with a steady income is exactly what she needs. Her job at Henrik’s won’t pay for a house and she can’t live with her mother forever.
They date and Rose is happy. Really she is. And a year later Mickey brings it up. Except he uses words like ‘mortgage’ and ‘bank loans’ and ‘long term investment’ and they all sound foreign and daunting and not romantic in the least. But Rose is an adult now at 18, and she knows that moving out of home and settling down is an inevitable step towards growing up and she must handle this as a mature woman, not as a child dreaming of fabled castles and noble knights.
She says she’ll think about it. It’s a mature decision and she’s proud of herself because she’s learned with Jimmy that rushing into things is childish.
She doesn’t tell Jackie but she does think about it. Living with Mickey could be nice.
It would be steadfast and honest and stable. They could have a family someday. She wills the thought into her head and pushes down the little voice that says hopefully not someday soon. This wasn’t exactly how she expected it all to turn out of course. There aren’t any quick shags in public loos because they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other long enough to make it home and there aren’t moments when she feels as if time’s stopped just for them and them only, like she imagined there would be but this is good. This is safe.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2005; The London Bombings shake the UK, the Pope dies and Rose Tyler is running, running for her life, running into… a phone box?
Only it’s so much more. And he’s so much more and it’s only too easy to leave Mickey. To leave safe and nice for inconceivable.
She’s standing inside a time ship, a time ship which looks like a police phone box from Jackie’s 60’s movies. Of course that’s not the strangest part. But she’s still trying to get her head around that, so the fact that he’s the last of his kind and the bearer of two hearts is still impending.
It doesn’t take long for doubt to creep in. She’s standing on Platform One a good five-point-five-slash-apple-slash-twenty-six years and god knows how many miles away from Earth watching the molten core of her home planet meander into space. With him. And it’s partly romantic and partly terrifying and just slightly insane and only slightly because she’s seen people with blue skin and people who are nothing but skin. And it can’t possibly be real.
But then come Cardiff and Daleks and Slitheen and Captain Jack and Bad Wolf and she’s so very glad she met him. And the doubt is replaced by unconditional trust. Her Doctor will always save her until he can’t and then she trusts that her life is worth sacrificing. And then she learns that sometimes sacrifice isn’t always for entire planets and races and freedom and justice and all things noble; sacrifice can be for one person. For him. And it doesn’t always feel like losing.
His face changes but Rose is surprised at how much else remains the same. He still takes her hand, still gets them into trouble and he still can’t land the TARDIS quite in the intended time and place. He’s still the Doctor. Still her Doctor.
They’re running for their lives again and it’s both new and familiar. She knows this sensation, expects the rush of adrenaline and the repression of fear. It’s muscle memory, it’s solace, it’s life. It’s theirs. She’s surprised at how much familiarity can be found on a planet she’s set foot on for the first time. She’s equally surprised at how easily she is unsettled by the most minute of differences during their visits to the Powel Estate. Jackie buys a new vase for the dried floral arrangement on the mantle (because the old one was broken by a rampant Christmas tree) and it takes Rose a good few minutes to decipher why she suddenly feels like she’s standing in an alternate realm.
She revels in the comforting hum of the TARDIS, where change is both constant and absent, and she learns. Change is home.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2008 and Rose Tyler is dead. Dead to the universe that elected Harriet Jones and celebrated the Spice Girls. Word of her own mortality is the only news she has from back home.
She almost loses it when she sees Melanie C walking down Hoxton Street, hair in dreads and a bass in hand. Rose still listens to the Spice Girls, although their sound does not resonate a jaunty pop and she doesn’t need to spend 30 quid on tickets to see them anymore. A 2 quid cover charge at a small East End pub allows her to mingle with the band all night and gets her cheap drinks after 10 o’clock.
She wonders if there’s been another invasion back home or if the Slitheen have returned and if the Doctor’s stopped them. She hopes so anyway, but she hopes he hasn’t given up on her just a little bit more. At 22 she won’t let go of her unfeasible fairy tale.
The one where a tall, dark, mysterious man with a title, not a real name comes and sweeps her off to a far away galaxy in his time machine. Rose keeps this one close to her heart along with a key. It’s useless now, won’t ever fit a lock. Not in this universe anyway.
Some say it’s locked her heart for good, others say she’s waiting for a Prince with a lock to fit the key. People talk. And Rose realizes that the last page of the fairytale has been read and the cover is now closed. Now it sits back to front with only a blurb to see.
She misses the colorful pictures and intricate words, the ones that used to make her feel like the stupid ape he once claimed her to be.
She reminisces, clinging on to fading memories because moving on is too hard and she has tried.
She’s tried dating but it’s never worked out. She’s had sex but she keep calling out his name when she comes and that doesn’t go down well with the guys. She sneaks away in the middle of the night, riddled with guilt and regret every time because she thinks maybe, just maybe he’ll come for her tomorrow. It’s been a whole two years worth of tomorrows and Rose is still hoping.
Two years and she doesn’t stop hoping because it won’t stop hurting and she can’t stop crying.
But she’ll get over it. Eventually.
Pairing: Rose/OC, Rose/Mickey, Doctor/Rose
Rating: PG 15
Spoilers: Up to Doomsday
Summary: This is her first kiss after all. And she knows this is love.
Disclaimer: The usual.
It’s 1996; The Spice Girls have just released their first single, Dolly the sheep is cloned and Rose Tyler has her first crush on Ben Mackenzie.
He is tall and blonde and quite the troublemaker and she loves it. She sits two rows behind him and one desk to the left, trying to catch his eye whenever he turns to snigger with his best mate Sam Jones.
One day, when her mother isn’t looking, she sneaks a tube of red lipstick to school from the makeup chest. At lunch giggling with the girls in the loos, they all pout in the mirror just like Posh Spice and smear the colour all over their lips. And teeth. And Keisha has some on her cheek but Rose doesn’t want to say anything.
They all walk out of the bathroom, swaying their hips and blowing kisses to the second graders who have climbed out of the sandpit to stare. Rose thinks it’s all rather sexy, and determined she struts over to Ben Mackenzie.
She stands in front of him full of audacity because she’s ready for this and she’s wearing lipstick to prove it. Eyes squelched shut because maybe she’s not quite that brave, she leans over and quickly plants a kiss on his cheek, leaving a bright red strain on pale skin. She looks down coyly at her feet, not because she’s in any way shy but because she’d seen it all the sexy girls do it in the movies.
A moment later she feels a faint brush of lips against hers, so faint that later she’d think she imagined it had the whole school not been there to document the event. She gasps and deliberately looks into his eyes (even though he’s trying to look anywhere but into hers) and thinks it ever so romantic. This is her first kiss after all.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2000; the millennium bug elapses, the creator of Peanuts dies and Rose, finally a teenager, gets her first real boyfriend.
Because Ben Mackenzie was just a kid and what did he know about love anyway.
Charlie Jordan is older; a whole one year, four moths and two weeks older. He’s going to high school next year. And he’s experienced. Kissed plenty of girls she hears.
But that doesn’t bother Rose because he promised her she’s special. Rose believes him because she hasn’t heard that one before.
They walk around school together, holding hands and sometimes sneaking kisses when they feel a bit daring.
One day she walks out of class with her mates. They’re right proper mates they are, linked arms and secret smiles and matching friendship bracelets to prove it. And then they’re pushing her towards him and Rose doesn’t protest because friends know best.
His tongue is in her mouth, thick and wet and her eyes have popped open and she’s frozen on the spot and she knows she must look like a right idiot but she doesn’t care
And he’s asking her out but he may as well be proposing for the jitters she has in her stomach. She almost forgets to say yes because her lips are curved in the widest smile a thirteen-year-old Rose could pull and then nothing matters for the rest of the day, then the rest of the week because Rose Tyler has a date. Her first date.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2003; The War in Iraq begins, Michael Jackson is detained for alleged child molestation and Rose, all grown up (she thinks), meets Jimmy Stone.
Jimmy’s a rock star. Well, he’s in a band and that’s close enough. Dating a musician is every girl’s dream and Rose Tyler gets to live it.
Rose is getting ready for his concert. Make up scattered in front of her and fingers blending and priming as she looks into the dressing room mirror. And this time she doesn’t smear lipstick all over her teeth. See, Rose Tyler is a big girl now. She knows how to put on make up and please boys. What else is there to know about growing up?
Jimmy is on stage and Rose is in the front row. Some stupid blonde stomps on her foot in an attempt to get close enough to Jimmy and profess her undying love. Rose smirks because she knows Jimmy is all hers but shoves her elbow into the girl’s ribs anyway. The blonde glares but Rose forgets all about her because Jimmy’s just said her name. He’s dedicated the first song to her.
When he comes off stage he’s sweaty and it’s not quite as sexy as it looks in the movies because the smell is rather pungent and Rose tries very hard to remember that most girls would kill for this when he mashes his lips against hers.
Later when they’re in his hotel room and Rose is sore in places she wasn’t aware could be sore; he smiles at her and proclaims her brilliant.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2004; A tsunami hits South East Asia, Martha Stewart is sent to jail and Rose, over her rebellious phase (well, mostly anyway), is ready to settle back home with her mum and Mickey Smith.
And it’s nice. Mickey is sweet and kind and he doesn’t grab her bottom in front of his friends and call her ‘Doll’.
Her mum says he’s a keeper, that Mickey. Got an apprenticeship as a mechanic lined up and everything.
Rose doesn’t have any A-levels and a man with a steady income is exactly what she needs. Her job at Henrik’s won’t pay for a house and she can’t live with her mother forever.
They date and Rose is happy. Really she is. And a year later Mickey brings it up. Except he uses words like ‘mortgage’ and ‘bank loans’ and ‘long term investment’ and they all sound foreign and daunting and not romantic in the least. But Rose is an adult now at 18, and she knows that moving out of home and settling down is an inevitable step towards growing up and she must handle this as a mature woman, not as a child dreaming of fabled castles and noble knights.
She says she’ll think about it. It’s a mature decision and she’s proud of herself because she’s learned with Jimmy that rushing into things is childish.
She doesn’t tell Jackie but she does think about it. Living with Mickey could be nice.
It would be steadfast and honest and stable. They could have a family someday. She wills the thought into her head and pushes down the little voice that says hopefully not someday soon. This wasn’t exactly how she expected it all to turn out of course. There aren’t any quick shags in public loos because they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other long enough to make it home and there aren’t moments when she feels as if time’s stopped just for them and them only, like she imagined there would be but this is good. This is safe.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2005; The London Bombings shake the UK, the Pope dies and Rose Tyler is running, running for her life, running into… a phone box?
Only it’s so much more. And he’s so much more and it’s only too easy to leave Mickey. To leave safe and nice for inconceivable.
She’s standing inside a time ship, a time ship which looks like a police phone box from Jackie’s 60’s movies. Of course that’s not the strangest part. But she’s still trying to get her head around that, so the fact that he’s the last of his kind and the bearer of two hearts is still impending.
It doesn’t take long for doubt to creep in. She’s standing on Platform One a good five-point-five-slash-apple-slash-twenty-six years and god knows how many miles away from Earth watching the molten core of her home planet meander into space. With him. And it’s partly romantic and partly terrifying and just slightly insane and only slightly because she’s seen people with blue skin and people who are nothing but skin. And it can’t possibly be real.
But then come Cardiff and Daleks and Slitheen and Captain Jack and Bad Wolf and she’s so very glad she met him. And the doubt is replaced by unconditional trust. Her Doctor will always save her until he can’t and then she trusts that her life is worth sacrificing. And then she learns that sometimes sacrifice isn’t always for entire planets and races and freedom and justice and all things noble; sacrifice can be for one person. For him. And it doesn’t always feel like losing.
His face changes but Rose is surprised at how much else remains the same. He still takes her hand, still gets them into trouble and he still can’t land the TARDIS quite in the intended time and place. He’s still the Doctor. Still her Doctor.
They’re running for their lives again and it’s both new and familiar. She knows this sensation, expects the rush of adrenaline and the repression of fear. It’s muscle memory, it’s solace, it’s life. It’s theirs. She’s surprised at how much familiarity can be found on a planet she’s set foot on for the first time. She’s equally surprised at how easily she is unsettled by the most minute of differences during their visits to the Powel Estate. Jackie buys a new vase for the dried floral arrangement on the mantle (because the old one was broken by a rampant Christmas tree) and it takes Rose a good few minutes to decipher why she suddenly feels like she’s standing in an alternate realm.
She revels in the comforting hum of the TARDIS, where change is both constant and absent, and she learns. Change is home.
And she knows this is love.
***
It’s 2008 and Rose Tyler is dead. Dead to the universe that elected Harriet Jones and celebrated the Spice Girls. Word of her own mortality is the only news she has from back home.
She almost loses it when she sees Melanie C walking down Hoxton Street, hair in dreads and a bass in hand. Rose still listens to the Spice Girls, although their sound does not resonate a jaunty pop and she doesn’t need to spend 30 quid on tickets to see them anymore. A 2 quid cover charge at a small East End pub allows her to mingle with the band all night and gets her cheap drinks after 10 o’clock.
She wonders if there’s been another invasion back home or if the Slitheen have returned and if the Doctor’s stopped them. She hopes so anyway, but she hopes he hasn’t given up on her just a little bit more. At 22 she won’t let go of her unfeasible fairy tale.
The one where a tall, dark, mysterious man with a title, not a real name comes and sweeps her off to a far away galaxy in his time machine. Rose keeps this one close to her heart along with a key. It’s useless now, won’t ever fit a lock. Not in this universe anyway.
Some say it’s locked her heart for good, others say she’s waiting for a Prince with a lock to fit the key. People talk. And Rose realizes that the last page of the fairytale has been read and the cover is now closed. Now it sits back to front with only a blurb to see.
She misses the colorful pictures and intricate words, the ones that used to make her feel like the stupid ape he once claimed her to be.
She reminisces, clinging on to fading memories because moving on is too hard and she has tried.
She’s tried dating but it’s never worked out. She’s had sex but she keep calling out his name when she comes and that doesn’t go down well with the guys. She sneaks away in the middle of the night, riddled with guilt and regret every time because she thinks maybe, just maybe he’ll come for her tomorrow. It’s been a whole two years worth of tomorrows and Rose is still hoping.
Two years and she doesn’t stop hoping because it won’t stop hurting and she can’t stop crying.
But she’ll get over it. Eventually.