Fic: Better Late Than Never
Title: Better Late Than Never
Author: meself, fid_gin
Beta: unfolded73
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose
Rating: R for language and non-graphic sex
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all hail the BBC
Summary: After the events of The Waters of Mars, the Doctor takes a detour.
Notes: Well, with the gentle guidance of my beta I've managed to salvage this one despite the CiN clip doing its best to throw it off track. Needless to say, spoilers for TWoM, as well as mild spoilers for the afore-mentioned CiN clip. In addition, there's some...sketchy consent issues in this one, which turn out not to be. I can't explain it better than that, just be warned if you're sensitive about that sort of thing.
They lie quietly next to each other as Rose walks her fingers across his chest, crossing first his left heart, then his right. Both hearts are only just slowing from their galloping pace of a moment ago, and already where they were full of love and joy only minutes before, the Doctor can feel the ache settling in.
He really needs to leave.
"You should go before you get back," Rose says, her voice soft and lazy. He whips his head to the side to face her in disbelief so quickly he hears his neck creak. "Oh don't look so shocked," she says, kissing his shoulder. "You actually look really different. Even Time Lords age a bit, seems like."
And she grins.
*****
"What you doing back so soon?"
He stood in the middle of a TARDIS which wasn't exactly his, and the voice coming from behind him was gently curious. If he remembered correctly, he'd told her he'd be gone for a couple of hours, and he actually was - one of the few times he'd let her out of his sight for more than a couple of minutes. His only chance to find her alone, to do what he'd decided to do back on Mars the second he'd realized with brilliant clarity that he had no one left to answer to. Adelaide's suicide had shaken his resolve, but if he was on a path leading to his inevitable death, then there was something he had to do first.
He turned slowly, expecting her to recognize the charade immediately even though the brown suit he'd changed into was the same as the one he'd worn then, his hair was still limp from the snow back on Earth in 2059 and he'd forgone a tie altogether, not remembering exactly which one he'd worn this day and thinking he could always make up an excuse about losing or trading it. For a moment she frowned, and he gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"I..." He swallowed around a painful lump in his throat, and his voice when he spoke again was raw. "I missed you."
*****
"I knew the whole time," she says, sounding proud of herself, and his hearts swell.
"Of course you did." He beams at her, and she returns the smile for a moment before it dies on her lips.
"Why're you on your own? Am I...y'know..." The Doctor realizes that she is trying to ask if she has died in the future he has come from, and he recognizes how this must look to her, him appearing alone and immediately seducing her. Of course she would assume the worst, given the dangerous lives they lead.
He should refuse to answer her or to give her any clues about her own future.
"No," he says, finally and firmly. "No, you're not dead."
There is an audible sigh of relief from beside him before her next question. "How long...I mean, when are you from?"
"I can't tell you that."
"How long have I been with you?" He understands that she believes if she is alive, then naturally she is still travelling with him.
"Can't tell you that either."
She's looking at him with infinite love and an expression that suggests she doesn't believe a word that's come out of his mouth since they finished. "And everything's fine? You just, what, stopped by for a quick hello-shag?"
Brushing his lips against her neck, he mumbles: "You didn't seem to mind." Oh, he's forgotten how good it feels to flirt with her.
"Shut up," she smiles, as he shifts back over her and continues to kiss his way down her stomach.
The talking stops for awhile, though his tongue stays busy.
*****
He was afraid.
Scoffing in the face of the laws of time was one thing when plucking a few survivors off a doomed Martian space base, and quite another when standing face to face with a companion he loved, but technically hadn't lost yet.
"Doctor? What's wrong?" Her face was full of concern, and it nearly broke him. He nearly told her everything.
"Something happened..." he started, but there was no easy way to finish that sentence. At a loss for how to continue, he did the only other thing he could think of: he kissed her.
And Rose kissed him back.
*****
"So where am I, then?" Rose continues, after. Her leg thrown over his, her knee nudging against his thigh, the soft tuft of her pubic hair brushing against his hip. It feels warm and wonderful, like wearing a blanket of Rose wrapped around him.
"You're fine. You're home." Well, it's the truth, he thinks to himself.
She makes a noise so that he can hear she's smiling. "Don't tell me: Mum's having another man crisis isn't she? How long's she held me hostage this time?"
Rolling toward her, he fixes her with an intense stare, begging her both to understand and to drop this. "You've been gone a long time," he says, his voice breaking slightly.
Her brow wrinkles, a crease forming between her eyebrows, and he can't help but lean over and press his lips to it.
"You look so sad," she says.
*****
He told himself he wasn't trying to trick her, not really. He'd wanted this, back then, and he would have acted on it if he'd been brave enough, if he'd known what lay ahead. Rose loved him and he loved her, and if her idea of him was off by just a couple years what difference did that make, he thought.
The times he'd imagined it, so many times over the years, he'd thought it would be slow and tender. Instead it was quick and desperate - a kiss and a question in the console room leading straight to Rose's bed. For him, it was because he had denied himself this for too long, wanted her too badly and was just too broken. For her, he imagined it was because they had never done this before and, he assumed, she was expecting the younger-him she thought he was to come to his senses. Go sane. Not likely, he thought with a thin smile, before putting his mouth to other uses.
The bed squeaked in protest, and the TARDIS seemed to shudder around them as though she understood how wrong this was. Moving inside of her, the Doctor was barely able to hold on until Rose cried out his name and he felt her tremble beneath him, and he came apart in her arms, his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight.
"I love you," he ground out from between gritted teeth. When he opened his eyes she was looking up at him serenely, stroking the back of his neck with one hand, soothing him.
"I love you, too."
He thought about Bad Wolf Bay, his determination to say it the first time and his bitter resolve not to the second. In his mind's eye, he saw the other Doctor leaning over to presumably whisper those words she needed to hear, saw her reel him in by the lapels of his suit and kiss him passionately, that Doctor who could openly express how much they both loved her.
Now, faced with his own mortality, he could be that Doctor. For a moment anyway.
Better late than never, he thought.
*****
"Do we do this a lot when you're from?" she asks, half-joking but also serious. He's standing, pulling on his suit, not facing her.
"Yes." And he doesn't stop to consider the probable accuracy of that statement. It's a technicality that this is the first time he's made love to her in this body, and the frequency with which his double is shagging the woman he loves in another universe is not something he cares to speculate on.
"Is he...are you going to be upset about this?" Now he does turn and sees that she looks worried, chewing her lip. He goes to her, bends down and cups her cheek in his palm, smiling.
"No," he says.
"How d'you know?"
"Because I'm not." The timeline is so warped around him at this point he doesn't even know what year it is, but he doesn't see or feel any anger or pain from this. Not yet, anyway.
Rose covers his hand with hers. "Whatever's happened, whatever will happen, yeah? I won't tell you about this."
The Doctor wants to tell her that he doesn't care if she does - let him find out, that idiot who wasted every last precious second he had with her until she was gone forever. Let him know what he's missing, and maybe then it will spur him into action, inspire him to fix it: sonic that lever at Canary Wharf into place. Duck a second before the Dalek laser grazes him. Change his mind and keep her with him...hell, maybe even the other Doctor as well. So many times, so many places he's gone wrong.
But he doesn't say any of these things as she slips from her bed and wiggles back into her jeans and t-shirt. She holds his hand as she walks him to the TARDIS doors.
Holding her hand. God, he's missed that.
Saying goodbye, again; so many fucking goodbyes and they never get any easier. She throws her arms around him, whispers in his ear: "I know that something's wrong, that you didn't just pop by because I'm at Mum's and you got lonely, and I don't care. I'm glad you came." A saucy little grin at the last, and he can't help but return it. "Just promise me...promise me you'll be okay, all right?"
The Doctor nods and walks away from Rose Tyler for what he thinks really is the last time.
As he does, he finds he finally can remember clearly: he'd come back that day and had instantly found himself swept into a huge hug. Rose had looked dishevelled, a bit scared and absolutely lovely, and she'd told him she'd just gotten a bit frightened with him gone so long. In apology he'd taken her to a deserted planet where great winged creatures sang as they soared through the skies, and she'd told him that day that she would stay with him forever.
All those times, prompting him to tell her he loved her, she'd known - had wanted him to say it for himself, not her. Now he has.
The Doctor leans heavily against the front of his own TARDIS before unlocking the door and stepping inside. The Cloister Bell has stopped tolling, and he sets his coordinates for the Oodsphere, determined to confront his death with courage. His fingers pause over the dimensional stabilizer, and suddenly he flies into motion around the console, changes the coordinates once again, this time to somewhere he's never been before. Just a little side trip, a little fun along the way, a few more adventures, he thinks with a small smile.
Rose never told him about the time a future version of himself had come to her and loved her and told her how he felt, how he'd always felt about her. She kept her promise. The least the Doctor can do, he thinks, is to keep his, and try to be okay before he faces the end.
Author: meself, fid_gin
Beta: unfolded73
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose
Rating: R for language and non-graphic sex
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all hail the BBC
Summary: After the events of The Waters of Mars, the Doctor takes a detour.
Notes: Well, with the gentle guidance of my beta I've managed to salvage this one despite the CiN clip doing its best to throw it off track. Needless to say, spoilers for TWoM, as well as mild spoilers for the afore-mentioned CiN clip. In addition, there's some...sketchy consent issues in this one, which turn out not to be. I can't explain it better than that, just be warned if you're sensitive about that sort of thing.
They lie quietly next to each other as Rose walks her fingers across his chest, crossing first his left heart, then his right. Both hearts are only just slowing from their galloping pace of a moment ago, and already where they were full of love and joy only minutes before, the Doctor can feel the ache settling in.
He really needs to leave.
"You should go before you get back," Rose says, her voice soft and lazy. He whips his head to the side to face her in disbelief so quickly he hears his neck creak. "Oh don't look so shocked," she says, kissing his shoulder. "You actually look really different. Even Time Lords age a bit, seems like."
And she grins.
*****
"What you doing back so soon?"
He stood in the middle of a TARDIS which wasn't exactly his, and the voice coming from behind him was gently curious. If he remembered correctly, he'd told her he'd be gone for a couple of hours, and he actually was - one of the few times he'd let her out of his sight for more than a couple of minutes. His only chance to find her alone, to do what he'd decided to do back on Mars the second he'd realized with brilliant clarity that he had no one left to answer to. Adelaide's suicide had shaken his resolve, but if he was on a path leading to his inevitable death, then there was something he had to do first.
He turned slowly, expecting her to recognize the charade immediately even though the brown suit he'd changed into was the same as the one he'd worn then, his hair was still limp from the snow back on Earth in 2059 and he'd forgone a tie altogether, not remembering exactly which one he'd worn this day and thinking he could always make up an excuse about losing or trading it. For a moment she frowned, and he gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"I..." He swallowed around a painful lump in his throat, and his voice when he spoke again was raw. "I missed you."
*****
"I knew the whole time," she says, sounding proud of herself, and his hearts swell.
"Of course you did." He beams at her, and she returns the smile for a moment before it dies on her lips.
"Why're you on your own? Am I...y'know..." The Doctor realizes that she is trying to ask if she has died in the future he has come from, and he recognizes how this must look to her, him appearing alone and immediately seducing her. Of course she would assume the worst, given the dangerous lives they lead.
He should refuse to answer her or to give her any clues about her own future.
"No," he says, finally and firmly. "No, you're not dead."
There is an audible sigh of relief from beside him before her next question. "How long...I mean, when are you from?"
"I can't tell you that."
"How long have I been with you?" He understands that she believes if she is alive, then naturally she is still travelling with him.
"Can't tell you that either."
She's looking at him with infinite love and an expression that suggests she doesn't believe a word that's come out of his mouth since they finished. "And everything's fine? You just, what, stopped by for a quick hello-shag?"
Brushing his lips against her neck, he mumbles: "You didn't seem to mind." Oh, he's forgotten how good it feels to flirt with her.
"Shut up," she smiles, as he shifts back over her and continues to kiss his way down her stomach.
The talking stops for awhile, though his tongue stays busy.
*****
He was afraid.
Scoffing in the face of the laws of time was one thing when plucking a few survivors off a doomed Martian space base, and quite another when standing face to face with a companion he loved, but technically hadn't lost yet.
"Doctor? What's wrong?" Her face was full of concern, and it nearly broke him. He nearly told her everything.
"Something happened..." he started, but there was no easy way to finish that sentence. At a loss for how to continue, he did the only other thing he could think of: he kissed her.
And Rose kissed him back.
*****
"So where am I, then?" Rose continues, after. Her leg thrown over his, her knee nudging against his thigh, the soft tuft of her pubic hair brushing against his hip. It feels warm and wonderful, like wearing a blanket of Rose wrapped around him.
"You're fine. You're home." Well, it's the truth, he thinks to himself.
She makes a noise so that he can hear she's smiling. "Don't tell me: Mum's having another man crisis isn't she? How long's she held me hostage this time?"
Rolling toward her, he fixes her with an intense stare, begging her both to understand and to drop this. "You've been gone a long time," he says, his voice breaking slightly.
Her brow wrinkles, a crease forming between her eyebrows, and he can't help but lean over and press his lips to it.
"You look so sad," she says.
*****
He told himself he wasn't trying to trick her, not really. He'd wanted this, back then, and he would have acted on it if he'd been brave enough, if he'd known what lay ahead. Rose loved him and he loved her, and if her idea of him was off by just a couple years what difference did that make, he thought.
The times he'd imagined it, so many times over the years, he'd thought it would be slow and tender. Instead it was quick and desperate - a kiss and a question in the console room leading straight to Rose's bed. For him, it was because he had denied himself this for too long, wanted her too badly and was just too broken. For her, he imagined it was because they had never done this before and, he assumed, she was expecting the younger-him she thought he was to come to his senses. Go sane. Not likely, he thought with a thin smile, before putting his mouth to other uses.
The bed squeaked in protest, and the TARDIS seemed to shudder around them as though she understood how wrong this was. Moving inside of her, the Doctor was barely able to hold on until Rose cried out his name and he felt her tremble beneath him, and he came apart in her arms, his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight.
"I love you," he ground out from between gritted teeth. When he opened his eyes she was looking up at him serenely, stroking the back of his neck with one hand, soothing him.
"I love you, too."
He thought about Bad Wolf Bay, his determination to say it the first time and his bitter resolve not to the second. In his mind's eye, he saw the other Doctor leaning over to presumably whisper those words she needed to hear, saw her reel him in by the lapels of his suit and kiss him passionately, that Doctor who could openly express how much they both loved her.
Now, faced with his own mortality, he could be that Doctor. For a moment anyway.
Better late than never, he thought.
*****
"Do we do this a lot when you're from?" she asks, half-joking but also serious. He's standing, pulling on his suit, not facing her.
"Yes." And he doesn't stop to consider the probable accuracy of that statement. It's a technicality that this is the first time he's made love to her in this body, and the frequency with which his double is shagging the woman he loves in another universe is not something he cares to speculate on.
"Is he...are you going to be upset about this?" Now he does turn and sees that she looks worried, chewing her lip. He goes to her, bends down and cups her cheek in his palm, smiling.
"No," he says.
"How d'you know?"
"Because I'm not." The timeline is so warped around him at this point he doesn't even know what year it is, but he doesn't see or feel any anger or pain from this. Not yet, anyway.
Rose covers his hand with hers. "Whatever's happened, whatever will happen, yeah? I won't tell you about this."
The Doctor wants to tell her that he doesn't care if she does - let him find out, that idiot who wasted every last precious second he had with her until she was gone forever. Let him know what he's missing, and maybe then it will spur him into action, inspire him to fix it: sonic that lever at Canary Wharf into place. Duck a second before the Dalek laser grazes him. Change his mind and keep her with him...hell, maybe even the other Doctor as well. So many times, so many places he's gone wrong.
But he doesn't say any of these things as she slips from her bed and wiggles back into her jeans and t-shirt. She holds his hand as she walks him to the TARDIS doors.
Holding her hand. God, he's missed that.
Saying goodbye, again; so many fucking goodbyes and they never get any easier. She throws her arms around him, whispers in his ear: "I know that something's wrong, that you didn't just pop by because I'm at Mum's and you got lonely, and I don't care. I'm glad you came." A saucy little grin at the last, and he can't help but return it. "Just promise me...promise me you'll be okay, all right?"
The Doctor nods and walks away from Rose Tyler for what he thinks really is the last time.
As he does, he finds he finally can remember clearly: he'd come back that day and had instantly found himself swept into a huge hug. Rose had looked dishevelled, a bit scared and absolutely lovely, and she'd told him she'd just gotten a bit frightened with him gone so long. In apology he'd taken her to a deserted planet where great winged creatures sang as they soared through the skies, and she'd told him that day that she would stay with him forever.
All those times, prompting him to tell her he loved her, she'd known - had wanted him to say it for himself, not her. Now he has.
The Doctor leans heavily against the front of his own TARDIS before unlocking the door and stepping inside. The Cloister Bell has stopped tolling, and he sets his coordinates for the Oodsphere, determined to confront his death with courage. His fingers pause over the dimensional stabilizer, and suddenly he flies into motion around the console, changes the coordinates once again, this time to somewhere he's never been before. Just a little side trip, a little fun along the way, a few more adventures, he thinks with a small smile.
Rose never told him about the time a future version of himself had come to her and loved her and told her how he felt, how he'd always felt about her. She kept her promise. The least the Doctor can do, he thinks, is to keep his, and try to be okay before he faces the end.