The Doctor's Diary - Part 17
CHARACTERS: Ten/Rose, Romana
Icon by
swankkat
Cross-posted to time_and_chips
After a disastrous reunion phone-call, the Doctor rings back to apologise, but can Romana be persuaded to tell him the truth? Rose narrates.
“Romana,” I said, “You have to tell him. Let him help you, please.”
She shook her head. Her whole face was frozen with determination. “No. Can you think of anything more likely to bring him here than the slightest indication that your safety might be compromised?”
“What about yours?” I asked.
She didn’t answer that.
“Don’t you think he cares about you?” I persisted. “He told me you were the only one of his people - the only one - that he really trusted. He’s got no idea what you’re going through, has he?”
“It is unnecessary to burden him with such concerns,” she replied, crisply.
“Oh, come on. That’s not the real reason, Romana, and you know it. Don’t you see why he’s being such a prat about this? It’s because you helped him. He can’t handle that. The best way to sort it out would be to ask for something in return. Then he could look you in the face again.”
She was silent for a while. Then, closing her eyes again, she murmured, almost to herself, “A psychic link is out of the question.”
“Just phone him, then.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Rose,” she said. “There’s the question of” - The rest of the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “My dad’ll pay for it. He’d want me to be safe. Anyway, I know you people don’t really do money. The Doctor didn’t have a clue. Used to come into our flat back home and eat through the place like a swarm of locusts. Drove my mother mental. Wasn’t as if we were well off, either.”
It was helping her relax, drawing her into the conversation. “I thought your father ran one of the most successful companies in Europe,” she remarked.
“He’s not my dad, exactly,” I said. And I explained about mum and Pete, how the Doctor got them together, and what it was like on the estate when I was growing up. I wanted her to know that I was used to roughing it a bit. “See, that’s how he is,” I finished. “Thinks of everyone except himself. An’ then, it all gets a bit too much and he just sort of - explodes.”
“Oh, I know,” she agreed. “He insisted on being the only one to remain behind at the end of the Time War. It was never the intention that he should endure that alone. But…..”
She paused, and opened her hand out as if there was a scrunched up hankie in it, then laid it out in front of her. Her skin was red and flaky and I thought she could have done with a bit of decent hand cream. “I think that the prospect of my company on a permanent basis troubled him still more, at the time.”
So he dumped her, I thought. Because she’d have talked to him. Made him sort it all out. Yeah, I could imagine that. And I’d bet she’d never told a living soul.
Bloody Time Lords. I could pick them up and shake them, sometimes.
“Was that when he looked like a poet, in his frock coat and all that?” I asked.
She nodded. “I assumed, until you mentioned being with him at the time, that he regenerated soon after the War.”
“Oh, he wasn’t like that when I met him,” I said. “He looked hard till you got to know him. Had this leather jacket he wore all the time, and short hair, and really intense blue eyes. You could tell he’d been through some pretty heavy stuff, but you knew better than to ask about it. And then one day, we met a Dalek, just an old beaten-up one in this museum place. An’ he lost it. Completely. Started torturing it. That scared me.”
“But you did not leave him,” Romana observed.
I shrugged. “Dunno why. I mean, he did some terrible stuff. Our first date, not that he’d call it that, he took me to see the Earth burn up. Dead romantic, that. He kept saying, ‘Do you still want to stay with me, now you know how dangerous it is?’ An’ then, he got me back, and we were there in London, my London, and suddenly it all came out.” I stopped, wondering if I was really being fair to her. If I’d said this to him, he’d’ve been freaking out by now, or bouncing off the TARDIS walls, singing something like “Grace Kelly” and not looking at me.
But Romana seemed to be coping with it. She just nodded. Maybe it helped to know I’d been there, doing what he hadn’t let her do. “ ‘My planet burned,’” he said. “’Before its time. There’s nothing left but dust and ash.’ Well, bloody hell, what do you say to that? I felt like I’d walked into a Star Wars movie. I ‘ad’t known him five minutes.”
I was drawing her in. That was good. She was looking interested. Nothing like a good story, is there? Even Time Lords can enjoy that.
“So, what did you do then, Rose Tyler?” she asked.
I felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. “I squeezed his hand a bit. Said I fancied a bag of chips.”
“Chips?” she asked, pulling a puzzled face. Oh come on, I thought. Surely she knows what chips are?
“Yeah, you know. Fried potatoes. You just eat them out of a bag. This Martha he’s with now, she never lets him ‘ave chips. Says they’re bad for him. She feeds him on health foods and he gives them to the cat.”
“He has a cat?” That surprised her.
“Yeah, it’s called Adric. Moans about it all the time, but I think he quite likes it really. You should get one, Romana. Helps with the mice.”
I saw her face and stopped. She had them, I’d seen the traps down. I realised I’d overstepped the mark.
“Anyway, we had our chips - I had to pay, he never has any money on him, does he? An’ he perked up a bit, and we chatted, and told me about how he travelled around doing stuff, an’ he said ‘Not such a bad life.’”
“Poor Theta,” she sighed. “His independence will be the death of him, if he does not take care.”
“An’ I just said. ‘Better with two.’ An’ he said, ‘Yeah’, an’ grinned at me, an’ I thought, well, he can’t be that bad if he can smile like that. An’ that was it, really.”
“Few human beings would have had your courage and persistence,” said Romana.
“He’s a Time Lord, in’e?” I said. “You’re as bad. You’d rather die than let him see inside this place. I bet that why you won’t do this psychic link thing. An’ he’d be just the same.”
Before she could answer, the phone rang again. We both looked at it, as if it would explode if either of us touched it.
“Well, if you don’t tell him, I will,” I said, and picked it up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, for about the tenth time. “I’m so very, very sorry.” And for once, he sounded as if he meant it.
Reading between the lines, I could tell Jack had been in and smacked him about the head a bit. Good for him. We’d agreed he’d be nuts to come over and get me, right now. Then I told him about Romana. Didn’t lay it on too thick, she’d not want that, and anyway I didn’t have to. You know how I told you Romana can control when she regenerates? She’s done that four times now, for four different Time Lords, to keep their TARDISES going. That silenced him for quite a while.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I imagined him sitting there, with his fingers spread out through his hair, and the kind of look on his face that he’d prefer me not to see. I hadn’t forgotten a thing about his voice. I could tell, just from the sound of it, where his eyebrows would be, and when he’d be scratching the back of his neck. I wanted to be there, so much, I thought I might explode with it.
“I didn’t really know,” I said. “I mean, I could see it wasn’t like the - like your - TARDIS, but you don’t just go up to a Time Lord and say, ‘Why’s your TARDIS so rubbish compared to the last one I travelled in?’ Do you?”
“You understand our people,” he said. I could tell he was sounding stiff and formal because he was upset.
“All the better for travelling with her,” I said. “She talks about it more than you do. I think it comforts her a bit.”
“She’s a very great lady,” he agreed. “Almost royalty, or as close as we had to it. It’s hard to imagine her living like this, but that’s what happens after wars.”
“I’ve got this awful feeling,” I confessed. “She’s still not really told me how she’s going to manage this. What if she’s going to regenerate again to get me back? I wouldn’t put it past her. If she’s prepared to give her TARDIS up, then she’d do anything. We have to help her.”
“Of course we will, Rose,” he said, shocked by the thought that I even thought I had to ask. “Will she talk to me, do you think?”
“She might. What are you gonna say?”
“We’ll throw around a few ideas. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
I tried to laugh. “Reverse the old polarity flow?”
“Not quite.” He paused. “I’m not the only bloke around here who can drive a TARDIS any more.”
I don’t think it was easy for him to say that. In fact, for a minute I didn’t realise quite what he was saying.
Then the lightbulb above my head came on. “Jack!”
“Yes. Jack.”
“You’re teaching him?”
“It was her idea, really. The TARDIS, I mean. She’s been in a very odd mood lately. If she was human, I’d say it was hormones. Keeps redecorating. Shag pile carpet in the corridors, daft stuff like that.”
I giggled. “She’s missing me. Or he’s flirting with her.”
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” he laughed. “No seriously, he’d love a trip across the Void. I’d have to stay here and hold the path to the Rift open - now that’d be weird. But it beats being used as a battery.”
“Would Jack be safe?” I asked. “He said he couldn’t die.”
His voice was bouncy. He’d be getting up in a minute, I thought, bounding around the control room as if it wasn’t big enough to hold all his wonderful ideas. “He can’t die - but he doesn’t regenerate either! And with that recessive DNA, they could put him on a scanner and he’d still look completely human. Brilliant! How’s the driving lessons going?”
“Did my theory test this afternoon. Got 68%.” I tried hard to keep the snark out of my voice. Now he’ll be looking as if he’s sucking on a lemon, whole, I thought.
“Rose Tyler.” His voice sounded as warm and comforting as crumpets spread with golden syrup. “You’re still a genius. And I love you.” He stopped, then added, awkwardly, “Is that better? Did I get it right that time?”
“Oh yes. Quite right,” I smiled. “Love you, too. And I hope it won’t be my last chance to say it.”
“That’s up to you,” he said, trying to sound as if he wasn’t bothered either way. “Sounds like you’re getting on rather well with the old girl, to me. Still want to come back?”
“I love my old bloke even more.”
“Oi, who are you calling an old bloke?”
“You two were at school together. Know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna take Romana back home before we come and get my mum to do her hair. She’s been washing it in soap and cold water for years. I wish we still had all the salon stuff we had back in the flat.”
“You have,” he said. “It’s right here in the TARDIS. I’m planning to diversify if the Time Lord thing goes belly-up.”
“No, politics,” I said. “Talk the hind leg off a donkey and never give a straight answer to a simple question. You could handle John Humphries or Jeremy Paxman standing on your head.”
“Far too much politics going on here,” he sighed. “There’s a General Election. We’d be better off with Harriet Jones than with this Saxon fellow.”
“We?” I repeated. “You have gone native. What’s it got to do with you? Apart from the Harriet Jones bit, of course?”
He sighed, and didn’t answer that. Then he said, “I can’t believe you’re coming home, Rose.” Just for a moment, he sounded quite choked. “Martha’s had enough, by the way. Things didn’t work out with Jack. I need you back just to tell me what the hell is going on at Torchwood. The personnel side of things, that is. It all seems like a bit of a long running soap opera to me.”
I could imagine anywhere Jack worked turning into a bit of a shagfest. “Trouble is,” I observed, “when you do work like that, there’s nobody else you can talk to about it. So all your relationships have to be there.”
“Gwen manages,” he said. “But only just.”
“You on your own again then?” I asked.
“Yes. On my own. Same old TARDIS.”
“You’re not the Last of the Time Lords any more, though, are you?”
“No,” he said, after a moment, and somehow he made it sound as if the idea had only just sunk in. “That’s true. Been quite a year, this has. Funny thing is, though, I wouldn’t have missed it. And next time I say something is impossible, Rose, don’t believe me.”
“Never did. When you say that something’s impossible, Doctor, that just means you’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. The conversation lagged. But in a good way. It felt like I was right there in the control room, hanging out with him.
“Rose,” he said, “you know that ordinary life I mentioned?”
“Uh-huh. The one adventure you can never have.”
“Never say never. If that’s what you want, then we’ll work something out. I’ve been looking around for courses for you. Alpha Centauri’s good. And there’s a few in the Andromedas.”
I felt a warm glow slip down from my ears to my heart. He’d been thinking about me. About us. The future. Not just the bigger picture, but the little human life that would be mine. This wasn’t companion stuff. This was partner. I wasn’t quite sure when we’d crossed that line, but that didn’t really matter.
“What about you?” I asked. “What would you do?”
“Oh,” he replied, airily, “I don’t think many universities would say no to having a Time Lord on the faculty. Or even two. I know someone who’d make an excellent Professor of Causational Mathematics while her TARDIS heals.”
I laughed. “Works for me.”
“On the other hand,” he went on, “this Saxon bloke looks awfully like The Master…..”
Icon by
swankkat
Cross-posted to time_and_chips
After a disastrous reunion phone-call, the Doctor rings back to apologise, but can Romana be persuaded to tell him the truth? Rose narrates.
“Romana,” I said, “You have to tell him. Let him help you, please.”
She shook her head. Her whole face was frozen with determination. “No. Can you think of anything more likely to bring him here than the slightest indication that your safety might be compromised?”
“What about yours?” I asked.
She didn’t answer that.
“Don’t you think he cares about you?” I persisted. “He told me you were the only one of his people - the only one - that he really trusted. He’s got no idea what you’re going through, has he?”
“It is unnecessary to burden him with such concerns,” she replied, crisply.
“Oh, come on. That’s not the real reason, Romana, and you know it. Don’t you see why he’s being such a prat about this? It’s because you helped him. He can’t handle that. The best way to sort it out would be to ask for something in return. Then he could look you in the face again.”
She was silent for a while. Then, closing her eyes again, she murmured, almost to herself, “A psychic link is out of the question.”
“Just phone him, then.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Rose,” she said. “There’s the question of” - The rest of the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “My dad’ll pay for it. He’d want me to be safe. Anyway, I know you people don’t really do money. The Doctor didn’t have a clue. Used to come into our flat back home and eat through the place like a swarm of locusts. Drove my mother mental. Wasn’t as if we were well off, either.”
It was helping her relax, drawing her into the conversation. “I thought your father ran one of the most successful companies in Europe,” she remarked.
“He’s not my dad, exactly,” I said. And I explained about mum and Pete, how the Doctor got them together, and what it was like on the estate when I was growing up. I wanted her to know that I was used to roughing it a bit. “See, that’s how he is,” I finished. “Thinks of everyone except himself. An’ then, it all gets a bit too much and he just sort of - explodes.”
“Oh, I know,” she agreed. “He insisted on being the only one to remain behind at the end of the Time War. It was never the intention that he should endure that alone. But…..”
She paused, and opened her hand out as if there was a scrunched up hankie in it, then laid it out in front of her. Her skin was red and flaky and I thought she could have done with a bit of decent hand cream. “I think that the prospect of my company on a permanent basis troubled him still more, at the time.”
So he dumped her, I thought. Because she’d have talked to him. Made him sort it all out. Yeah, I could imagine that. And I’d bet she’d never told a living soul.
Bloody Time Lords. I could pick them up and shake them, sometimes.
“Was that when he looked like a poet, in his frock coat and all that?” I asked.
She nodded. “I assumed, until you mentioned being with him at the time, that he regenerated soon after the War.”
“Oh, he wasn’t like that when I met him,” I said. “He looked hard till you got to know him. Had this leather jacket he wore all the time, and short hair, and really intense blue eyes. You could tell he’d been through some pretty heavy stuff, but you knew better than to ask about it. And then one day, we met a Dalek, just an old beaten-up one in this museum place. An’ he lost it. Completely. Started torturing it. That scared me.”
“But you did not leave him,” Romana observed.
I shrugged. “Dunno why. I mean, he did some terrible stuff. Our first date, not that he’d call it that, he took me to see the Earth burn up. Dead romantic, that. He kept saying, ‘Do you still want to stay with me, now you know how dangerous it is?’ An’ then, he got me back, and we were there in London, my London, and suddenly it all came out.” I stopped, wondering if I was really being fair to her. If I’d said this to him, he’d’ve been freaking out by now, or bouncing off the TARDIS walls, singing something like “Grace Kelly” and not looking at me.
But Romana seemed to be coping with it. She just nodded. Maybe it helped to know I’d been there, doing what he hadn’t let her do. “ ‘My planet burned,’” he said. “’Before its time. There’s nothing left but dust and ash.’ Well, bloody hell, what do you say to that? I felt like I’d walked into a Star Wars movie. I ‘ad’t known him five minutes.”
I was drawing her in. That was good. She was looking interested. Nothing like a good story, is there? Even Time Lords can enjoy that.
“So, what did you do then, Rose Tyler?” she asked.
I felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. “I squeezed his hand a bit. Said I fancied a bag of chips.”
“Chips?” she asked, pulling a puzzled face. Oh come on, I thought. Surely she knows what chips are?
“Yeah, you know. Fried potatoes. You just eat them out of a bag. This Martha he’s with now, she never lets him ‘ave chips. Says they’re bad for him. She feeds him on health foods and he gives them to the cat.”
“He has a cat?” That surprised her.
“Yeah, it’s called Adric. Moans about it all the time, but I think he quite likes it really. You should get one, Romana. Helps with the mice.”
I saw her face and stopped. She had them, I’d seen the traps down. I realised I’d overstepped the mark.
“Anyway, we had our chips - I had to pay, he never has any money on him, does he? An’ he perked up a bit, and we chatted, and told me about how he travelled around doing stuff, an’ he said ‘Not such a bad life.’”
“Poor Theta,” she sighed. “His independence will be the death of him, if he does not take care.”
“An’ I just said. ‘Better with two.’ An’ he said, ‘Yeah’, an’ grinned at me, an’ I thought, well, he can’t be that bad if he can smile like that. An’ that was it, really.”
“Few human beings would have had your courage and persistence,” said Romana.
“He’s a Time Lord, in’e?” I said. “You’re as bad. You’d rather die than let him see inside this place. I bet that why you won’t do this psychic link thing. An’ he’d be just the same.”
Before she could answer, the phone rang again. We both looked at it, as if it would explode if either of us touched it.
“Well, if you don’t tell him, I will,” I said, and picked it up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, for about the tenth time. “I’m so very, very sorry.” And for once, he sounded as if he meant it.
Reading between the lines, I could tell Jack had been in and smacked him about the head a bit. Good for him. We’d agreed he’d be nuts to come over and get me, right now. Then I told him about Romana. Didn’t lay it on too thick, she’d not want that, and anyway I didn’t have to. You know how I told you Romana can control when she regenerates? She’s done that four times now, for four different Time Lords, to keep their TARDISES going. That silenced him for quite a while.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I imagined him sitting there, with his fingers spread out through his hair, and the kind of look on his face that he’d prefer me not to see. I hadn’t forgotten a thing about his voice. I could tell, just from the sound of it, where his eyebrows would be, and when he’d be scratching the back of his neck. I wanted to be there, so much, I thought I might explode with it.
“I didn’t really know,” I said. “I mean, I could see it wasn’t like the - like your - TARDIS, but you don’t just go up to a Time Lord and say, ‘Why’s your TARDIS so rubbish compared to the last one I travelled in?’ Do you?”
“You understand our people,” he said. I could tell he was sounding stiff and formal because he was upset.
“All the better for travelling with her,” I said. “She talks about it more than you do. I think it comforts her a bit.”
“She’s a very great lady,” he agreed. “Almost royalty, or as close as we had to it. It’s hard to imagine her living like this, but that’s what happens after wars.”
“I’ve got this awful feeling,” I confessed. “She’s still not really told me how she’s going to manage this. What if she’s going to regenerate again to get me back? I wouldn’t put it past her. If she’s prepared to give her TARDIS up, then she’d do anything. We have to help her.”
“Of course we will, Rose,” he said, shocked by the thought that I even thought I had to ask. “Will she talk to me, do you think?”
“She might. What are you gonna say?”
“We’ll throw around a few ideas. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
I tried to laugh. “Reverse the old polarity flow?”
“Not quite.” He paused. “I’m not the only bloke around here who can drive a TARDIS any more.”
I don’t think it was easy for him to say that. In fact, for a minute I didn’t realise quite what he was saying.
Then the lightbulb above my head came on. “Jack!”
“Yes. Jack.”
“You’re teaching him?”
“It was her idea, really. The TARDIS, I mean. She’s been in a very odd mood lately. If she was human, I’d say it was hormones. Keeps redecorating. Shag pile carpet in the corridors, daft stuff like that.”
I giggled. “She’s missing me. Or he’s flirting with her.”
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” he laughed. “No seriously, he’d love a trip across the Void. I’d have to stay here and hold the path to the Rift open - now that’d be weird. But it beats being used as a battery.”
“Would Jack be safe?” I asked. “He said he couldn’t die.”
His voice was bouncy. He’d be getting up in a minute, I thought, bounding around the control room as if it wasn’t big enough to hold all his wonderful ideas. “He can’t die - but he doesn’t regenerate either! And with that recessive DNA, they could put him on a scanner and he’d still look completely human. Brilliant! How’s the driving lessons going?”
“Did my theory test this afternoon. Got 68%.” I tried hard to keep the snark out of my voice. Now he’ll be looking as if he’s sucking on a lemon, whole, I thought.
“Rose Tyler.” His voice sounded as warm and comforting as crumpets spread with golden syrup. “You’re still a genius. And I love you.” He stopped, then added, awkwardly, “Is that better? Did I get it right that time?”
“Oh yes. Quite right,” I smiled. “Love you, too. And I hope it won’t be my last chance to say it.”
“That’s up to you,” he said, trying to sound as if he wasn’t bothered either way. “Sounds like you’re getting on rather well with the old girl, to me. Still want to come back?”
“I love my old bloke even more.”
“Oi, who are you calling an old bloke?”
“You two were at school together. Know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna take Romana back home before we come and get my mum to do her hair. She’s been washing it in soap and cold water for years. I wish we still had all the salon stuff we had back in the flat.”
“You have,” he said. “It’s right here in the TARDIS. I’m planning to diversify if the Time Lord thing goes belly-up.”
“No, politics,” I said. “Talk the hind leg off a donkey and never give a straight answer to a simple question. You could handle John Humphries or Jeremy Paxman standing on your head.”
“Far too much politics going on here,” he sighed. “There’s a General Election. We’d be better off with Harriet Jones than with this Saxon fellow.”
“We?” I repeated. “You have gone native. What’s it got to do with you? Apart from the Harriet Jones bit, of course?”
He sighed, and didn’t answer that. Then he said, “I can’t believe you’re coming home, Rose.” Just for a moment, he sounded quite choked. “Martha’s had enough, by the way. Things didn’t work out with Jack. I need you back just to tell me what the hell is going on at Torchwood. The personnel side of things, that is. It all seems like a bit of a long running soap opera to me.”
I could imagine anywhere Jack worked turning into a bit of a shagfest. “Trouble is,” I observed, “when you do work like that, there’s nobody else you can talk to about it. So all your relationships have to be there.”
“Gwen manages,” he said. “But only just.”
“You on your own again then?” I asked.
“Yes. On my own. Same old TARDIS.”
“You’re not the Last of the Time Lords any more, though, are you?”
“No,” he said, after a moment, and somehow he made it sound as if the idea had only just sunk in. “That’s true. Been quite a year, this has. Funny thing is, though, I wouldn’t have missed it. And next time I say something is impossible, Rose, don’t believe me.”
“Never did. When you say that something’s impossible, Doctor, that just means you’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. The conversation lagged. But in a good way. It felt like I was right there in the control room, hanging out with him.
“Rose,” he said, “you know that ordinary life I mentioned?”
“Uh-huh. The one adventure you can never have.”
“Never say never. If that’s what you want, then we’ll work something out. I’ve been looking around for courses for you. Alpha Centauri’s good. And there’s a few in the Andromedas.”
I felt a warm glow slip down from my ears to my heart. He’d been thinking about me. About us. The future. Not just the bigger picture, but the little human life that would be mine. This wasn’t companion stuff. This was partner. I wasn’t quite sure when we’d crossed that line, but that didn’t really matter.
“What about you?” I asked. “What would you do?”
“Oh,” he replied, airily, “I don’t think many universities would say no to having a Time Lord on the faculty. Or even two. I know someone who’d make an excellent Professor of Causational Mathematics while her TARDIS heals.”
I laughed. “Works for me.”
“On the other hand,” he went on, “this Saxon bloke looks awfully like The Master…..”