An Education (Nine!Smith/Rose, 15/16)
Title: An Education (15/16)
Author: ahedonia (Anne Hedonia)
Pairing: Nine!Smith/Rose
Rating: This chapter: PG
Betas: Had I the self-control to wait for them, seren_ccd would be wisely looking over my prose and sollersuk would be pointing out holes in my history and Britishness. As it is, everything not right in this chapter is my fault alone.
Summary: I went looking for a Nine!Smith/Rose fic that took place at Farringham. I couldn't find one, so I started writing. It's pretty much as simple as that.
Previous chapters at my Teaspoon account.
So wow, there's finally an ending chapter number up top -- big doin's. I will do my absolute best not to make you wait too long for the ending, and to make sure it's worthy of all of your wonderful, appreciated, extended attention to this story. In the meantime, there's an aspect of this chapter that I feel suffers from an attack of stupid -- and if I'd just use my damn betas maybe it wouldn't, but I have the patience of a crack addict on fire -- however if I don't point it out specifically maybe you won't notice it.
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The Doctor blinked at the space where Rose had been.
He actually pitched forward slightly onto his toes. All the mental momentum that had been going into his next sentence-not that he necessarily knew exactly what it would have been-acted on him as though it had been a physical force. The moment had been so damn big it propelled him into slapstick.
It took several more moments before his brain caught up to what must have happened to her. Not his usual processing speed but he didn't begrudge himself. Every cell in his body had just been rewritten.
He went to the window and looked down to find his theory confirmed: the scarecrow army were shuffling aimlessly away, while the Farringham boys stood up cautiously from behind their sandbags and guns, watching in puzzlement. Baines and the little girl were nowhere in sight.
It was confusing for everyone but him. If he'd been the Doctor before now he'd have seen it coming. Of course, if he'd been the Doctor before now he'd have seen-and avoided-a lot of things.
His chest squeezed unpleasantly.
He went to his former bedside to retrieve the sonic, turned it on and listened to its buzz, once again as rich and full of bone-deep meaning as a native tongue. He scanned the room with it and peered at the readout: all the tracking information to find her was there-it was practically an engraved invitation.
It felt good to be back and it felt awful. A head full of the last few weeks and a soul that no longer matched them. All the things he'd put into motion, that he'd said and done and professed to believe…all had been witnessed by others and set into stone, part of events. He wasn't embarrassed, exactly, it had all just been so…exposed. No big brain leather coat rattling off science terms flash in the pan sleight of hand. Nothing but a man against the world using the same weapons as everyone else, and searching his everyday life for something more.
And John had received his something more-he was heir to all the travel and adventure he could ever have conceived, only he'd never know it.
It was unfortunate. Doubly so that John's innocent, unspoken heart's desire granted was also the Doctor's curse restored.
The thought stopped him a moment; he pinched the bridge of his nose while his eyes squeezed gently closed. He felt as though he'd unknowingly banished his own restored innocence, chucked a free-pass chance at happiness. "Welcome back!" Life was saying, "We kept your pain nice and fresh for you."
Pain that would flare to renewed life soon when he'd be forced to unceremoniously chuck his other doorway to innocence, give back the best gift he'd ever received when he had to tell Rose… another chest squeeze. Back to distractions.
Blimey, re-entry was a right bitch.
He took a moment of silence and homage for John Smith, a man he both was and wasn't. A man whose dreams were big and whose heart was bigger, braver...more resilient than his.
The Doctor felt his bottom lip trembling slightly and he laughed softly against the silliness of his emotions. To John Smith, he thought fondly-had he met him on his travels, the Doctor would have dearly loved to show him the stars.
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Joan was standing in the foyer, brow furrowed as she watched the retreat of the scarecrows, when she heard the footsteps. She looked to the stairs and saw him descending them at a sprightly clip. She stared for a minute until she was sure enough to ask: "Doctor?"
"At your service," he beamed. Oh my-her heart fluttered a bit. She'd sometimes seen a facsimile of that grin when John was around Rose, but now it was different: manic and gleeful and charming and knee-weakening…
…and just a little bit untrue.
His body now seemed too mobile for the stiff layers of clothes it wore, likely to split the knees or elbows at any time due to sheer volatility. Joan blinked, shook her head to clear it. "I'm sorry," she stammered with a smile, "I didn't expect you'd look the same."
He was grinning at her flustered air; to regain her composure she pointed to the makeshift bunkers outside. "They're retreating, did you see?"
The Doctor nodded. "Yes…and they've taken Rose." Joan felt her eyes go wide. "Teleported her somehow," he explained. "The moment I was back, they knew. Dunno why they didn't just take me but it doesn't matter-now they know I'm coming to them and that's apparently what they wanted." Joan marvelled at how different his speech was now: quick and assured and authoritative, without John's defensive air.
She brought herself back to the topic. "How will you find them?"
The Doctor held up the sonic. "Magic wand," he said with a waggled-eyebrow grin. "That and I believe I've been there."
"What will you do when you find them?"
Something in his eyes grew harder while his smile remained. "Make them wish they hadn't taken her." Joan felt a rush of cold goosebumps.
An awkward silence fell as they stood in the hall with boys streaming by them, carrying supplies back to storage. "Well, it seems my work here is over," Joan said finally, hands wringing gently. "Will I see you again? Either of you?" she added quickly.
"Might do," allowed the Doctor. "Never know with me." His smile grew gentler and-dare she say?-affectionate. "You've been fantastic, Joan Redfern," he said. "Epically fantastic." She had no time to prepare as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, leaning back with that grin already in place.
She blushed and nodded, not looking at him. "It was an adventure I'd not have missed for the world," she said firmly, managing then to meet his eyes.
The Doctor nodded; he turned to go. Suddenly Joan was struck with a feeling that had to be voiced.
"Doctor?" she called, and he turned back. "Don't you dare give her up," she warned. She suddenly felt very indignant, and nothing to be trifled with. She hoped it showed. "You owe her better and you'll do no one any good, her nor yourself."
The Doctor studied her a long moment, a wry smile on his face. "You're a little bit psychic, Joan Redfern," he said, before turning to stride out the doors.
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He hadn't even really looked at the sonic's information before heading to the clearing in Cooper's Field-it had to be where the ship was. Rose had known or at least suspected the Family was there back when they'd first gone. Yet another wave of dread rolled through him: Rose had carried so much for him, and now he was going to repay her with heartache. Joan was right, she deserved better, but now it was too late. And it was entirely his fault, he'd led her on. He'd created the whole situation then let it play out to its worst possible conclusion. He should've known that the feelings he normally kept under wraps as a Time Lord wouldn't be safe behind the control of a mere human.
Yes, he knew the feelings were there, along with sexual urges dragged into being out of the depths of his nature by any number of factors, not least of which his apparently inability to do anything by the standards the Time Lords used to impose. But while he couldn't help having the feelings, at least as himself he could keep them where they belonged. He felt for a minute one sliver of their volcanic nature and shook his head as he walked. A human didn't stand a chance.
He'd reached the clearing. He held the sonic high and pressed the button, causing the ship's outline to flare bright then dim to a soft glow. A door on the side was clearly open. He squared his shoulders, the impending escapade giving him no anticipation, no feeling of adventure, no joy. Only necessity and his ferocious anger impelled him to go in.
Showtime, he thought.
He stood in the doorway and called out: "Hello! Couldn't help but notice you were laser-bombing the area so I thought I'd pop by." His voice bounced down the strange bone and sinew corridors of the Family's ship, giving them plenty of warning that he was approaching as he walked in. Obviously the ship was grown, like his TARDIS. He could feel in his head how different this craft was, though, how it wasn't nearly as smart or benevolent as the ship that housed him. Something almost feral about it, animal and ignorant. He knew Rose would be feeling it too; her sensitive nature would be picking it up, and it'd be adding to any fear or discord she'd be going through.
Rose. Chest squeeze. Anger and desolation flared again. He determined the Family would be taking the brunt of this one. "Yoo hoo!" he called breezily. "I've got jammy dodgers!"
He made it to what seemed the main area of the ship and one by one the Family appeared, as though they were oozing out of the shadows. Rose's ex-friend, glaring with gleeful malevolence as she'd never done as her bubbly human self. Mr. Clark, dead-eyed and violent, that eerie little girl. Baines was the last, still grinning his death's head grin.
The Doctor feigned having a good look around. "Nice decorating, very smart," he noted. "I love what you've failed to do with the place."
Baines' eyes glittered at him from across the space. "Doctor," he said with amused satisfaction. "I had always heard you were entertaining in a crisis."
"Crisis?" The Doctor made a show of being amiably confused. "I'm just here to take Rose home." His smile at the end became less friendly.
Baines' head made that odd tilt. "Really? Well, had you counted on her being here?"
He took a long stick and used it to push aside a kind of strange, fleshy panel, revealing Rose. She stood on a platform jutting out from a wall, high above some kind of raised ulcer in the floor that formed a pit. She was perched on the very end of it, saved from falling only by a thin line tied to her wrists behind her back, with the other end coming out of the wall behind her. Her weight against the line pulled it taut. Something in the pit sent out ominous vapours. Very Nestene Consciousness.
The Doctor's only reaction was a quick, dry swallow he knew the Family weren't keen enough to catch. "Blimey, this setup's a bit corny, innit? What happen, you always want to be a Bond villain?"
His eyes flicked to Rose's, and found her looking into his face, searching it. He thought maybe she was looking for reassurance, some sign of their old camaraderie, a hint of that breezy shared attitude that life-threatening danger was only a good story waiting to be told later. He sent her a wink and hoped the turmoil in his heart didn't show. From her weak smile, it may have.
Meanwhile Baines was monologuing. "Doctor, I think you underestimate the value of a good pit of Ungunthian Cyclops stomach acid as a means of ensuring cooperation." He reached up with his stick and hovered it around Rose's face. "Especially when dealing with certain captives who repeatedly fail to follow commands." Unexpectedly the end of the stick dropped to Rose's middle and he gave her a good shove in the gut with it, which Rose took with a grunt of surprise.
Two things happened to the Doctor then, one more alarming than the other.
The first thing was expected: he felt his chest heave with anger at the sight of Baines causing Rose pain.
The second occurrence was also physical, centred lower and caused the Doctor an immense amount of shame: his whole body flooded with sharp arousal.
He knew for certain it wasn't a reaction to Rose being in pain-never, never that. But it was a reaction to the guttural sound she'd made-it was nearly identical to sounds he'd heard her make when he was John, when they were together, alone, and he was pushing into her hard and fast because he was close, so close, and her eyes were squeezed shut and her breasts were bouncing frantically-
He clamped down on the images that were hitting him in a full-blown assault. His eyes shot to hers and she was merely looking at him, same as before, so she hadn’t detected it. This was impossible, unspeakable. This shouldn't be happening now he was himself again. He was a bloody Time Lord, not some shamefully hard-wired ape.
But the arousal was undeniable.
Oh God. He was broken. His ability to bury the feelings had been overpowered. Somehow she'd not only opened the door to those feelings, she'd broken the lock while she was at it.
He realized he'd been silent too long and had to speak before Baines detected any kind of weakness. "Why are you mucking about with all this?" he demanded, ruthlessly forcing himself to be commanding. "Why not just transmat me once you knew I was back?"
"Oh, do give us some credit, Doctor," purred Baines. "You'll hardly be surprised to learn that your reputation precedes you. To have you to here, against us with only yourself at stake…we'd have the disadvantage. But with something to lose…" His gaze drifted knowingly between the Doctor and Rose. "…you have to be careful."
The Doctor didn't even try to bluff with the lie that perhaps what they had, he didn't mind losing. It would be an absurd argument even to these oblivious, grasping dimwits.
Baines meandered closer to the Doctor while staying wisely out of his reach. "I would so like to ask more about your carnal adventures among the apes," he leered, "about the wisdom of attaching yourself so…intimately to something so unrefined and ultimately fragile, but I'm afraid I've become quite impatient for my prize. You have one minute to agree to let us take your life force, before the fair Rose faces an untimely-though delicious-demise."
He gave a terse nod to the little girl, who pulled a lever on a very crude, steampunk mechanism. Rose yelped as the line that held her upright above the pit began paying out with excruciating slowness, angling her body more and more acutely, closer to the pit, closer to giving her no way to keep her feet and avoid falling. And while short, the line would be long enough to let her fall in.
The Doctor looked thoughtful and began pacing. "You know, it's interesting. On the way over here-"
"Doctor!" Rose interrupted him.
He held up a "one second" finger. "On the way over here I literally stopped to smell the flowers. These flowers, as a matter of fact." He stuck both hands into the pockets of his tweed jacket and brought forth two handfuls of freshly-picked poppy blossoms. Despite themselves, every member of the Family stepped back.
The Doctor smiled knowingly. "Yes, you lot-the real you, inside those human shells-have a very bad reaction to these things. Leaves, seeds, petals-just about every part of them." A thought occurred to him; he shifted one hand's worth of petals to the other and burrowed into his pocket again, displaying his find with a smile. "Found a pretty rock, too."
"Those flowers can kill us!" accused Rose's maid friend shrilly.
"Can do, yeah, depending on what I do with them. Question is, what will I do?"
"Do it fast!" Rose yelled, pitching forward alarmingly.
"I do always like to give people a chance..." he considered, before his face became the coldest stone imaginable. "But I've given you plenty."
In two strides he was at the pit, where he dumped the poppies into the acid. Immediately they produced a loud sizzling noise and visible fumes that speedily permeated the air around them. "Fun fact! Combined with Ungunthian Cyclops stomach acid, poppies create a very nasty vapour that strangely enough, doesn't harm humans! Or Time Lords, but that goes without saying." Then with one explosion of fluid movement he slung the rock at the lever, knocking it into the other direction. The line stopped lengthening and Rose breathed a sigh of relief-she was at just about the last tenable angle to keep her footing.
The Family, however, were not breathing well at all. Choking and gagging, they ran for the door, but a quick zap of the sonic slammed it shut.
"We'll die from this!" thundered Clark.
"No you won't," the Doctor dismissed. "However that gas will separate you from those bodies. Little trick Charles Dickens taught me," he smiled. He was at the ship's consoles, fiddling with dials and buttons. "And with just a small rejiggering of your exhaust systems...I can trap you in workings of your own ship." The air in the ship suddenly began moving toward the strange, jagged holes in the walls that had previously been pumping air out-what served as fans on the ship were now sucking it in. Satisfied, the Doctor headed to untie Rose.
With a final shriek the maid suddenly disintegrated in a shower of sparks, loosing the green gaseous creature that had been animating it. It rose into the air but with no physical form left to grip anything, was sucked helplessly into the now-howling vents.
Clark and the little girl had collapsed to the ground, writhing. An alarmingly pale Baines clung to a bony strut for support. "Judge, jury and executioner once more, Doctor?" he taunted hoarsely. "Where will it end?"
"I told you, you're not going to die," the said Doctor shortly. He glanced back contemptuously. "Dying's too good for you."
Baines ignored him. "What was it that pushed you into murder once more, Doctor? Can't stand that we threatened your cheap little-"
"I gave you a chance!" The Doctor turned and thundered. "You had a chance when I told you not to follow me! You had a chance for two whole months to decide to give it all up and go home. You had a chance until you started killing townspeople!" His fury nearly gave off visible waves. "You've had more chances than you ever deserved."
The little girl rolled over with a final gasp and disintegrated, her real form sailing into the vents without resistance, followed soon by Clark. Baines howled with rage, collapsing to the floor and suddenly stilling. A moment later he flailed for something in the shadows.
As the Doctor was busy climbing up and just then reaching Rose's platform, he wasn't in a position to see what Rose herself could. "Doctor!" she screeched.
The Doctor's head spun just in time to see Baines retrieve a blaster and shoot wildly in their direction, a last vicious effort to damage them before his body was gone. Said body turned to sparks just as the shot he'd fired burned through the line holding Rose up, disintegrating it with a sizzle.
Rose screamed as the Doctor lunged forward, grabbing Rose around the wrist and a remaining bit of cord still sticking out of the wall with the other. He strained with all his strength and managed to drag Rose up far enough that he could let go her wrist and quickly grab her waist, a feat which made her shout in alarm. Then his nose was buried in her hair and her body was flush against his side; he could smell her sweat and she was panting and whimpering, and once again the Doctor found himself in dire, shameful straits. He shook with adrenaline that was only half supplied by their predicament, and spared a half a second's thought to be grateful she wasn't pressed against his front to feel how shockingly fast he'd hardened. John had always been a slave to the sounds she made.
"Rose," he panted. "Try-try and calm down..." He knew he was telling himself as much as her.
He concentrated on pulling them up, grunting and groaning himself as he strained. In a few moments he had them standing firmly on the platform again and Rose instantly threw her arms around his neck with a sob of relief. Even if the last few moments of effort and concentration had not largely cleared up the Doctor's problem, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself hugging her back unreservedly, he was so genuinely grateful.
They clung to each other for a long moment until Rose spoke, tears now in her voice. "Doctor," she whispered. "I've-I've missed you so much."
The Doctor closed his eyes and relished the feel of her. "I'm sure if I'd known I was gone I'd've missed you too." Rose gave a teary laugh, and the Doctor smiled as she squeezed him tighter.
She pulled back to look at him with shining eyes, full of question and expectation. It was the moment when John would have kissed her, when any man would have done, and the love and relief in her face begged for it.
The Doctor hesitated, just a moment too long.
And Rose's face fell, all the life and love gone out of it.
She turned to the task of getting herself down. The Doctor offered his hand. "I can do it," she said softly.
She was soon down and heading for the door. The Doctor used the sonic to unlock it for her, and then she was outside.
Aside from the destruction of his planet, the Doctor wasn't sure any situation in his life had ever hurt more.
Author: ahedonia (Anne Hedonia)
Pairing: Nine!Smith/Rose
Rating: This chapter: PG
Betas: Had I the self-control to wait for them, seren_ccd would be wisely looking over my prose and sollersuk would be pointing out holes in my history and Britishness. As it is, everything not right in this chapter is my fault alone.
Summary: I went looking for a Nine!Smith/Rose fic that took place at Farringham. I couldn't find one, so I started writing. It's pretty much as simple as that.
Previous chapters at my Teaspoon account.
So wow, there's finally an ending chapter number up top -- big doin's. I will do my absolute best not to make you wait too long for the ending, and to make sure it's worthy of all of your wonderful, appreciated, extended attention to this story. In the meantime, there's an aspect of this chapter that I feel suffers from an attack of stupid -- and if I'd just use my damn betas maybe it wouldn't, but I have the patience of a crack addict on fire -- however if I don't point it out specifically maybe you won't notice it.
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The Doctor blinked at the space where Rose had been.
He actually pitched forward slightly onto his toes. All the mental momentum that had been going into his next sentence-not that he necessarily knew exactly what it would have been-acted on him as though it had been a physical force. The moment had been so damn big it propelled him into slapstick.
It took several more moments before his brain caught up to what must have happened to her. Not his usual processing speed but he didn't begrudge himself. Every cell in his body had just been rewritten.
He went to the window and looked down to find his theory confirmed: the scarecrow army were shuffling aimlessly away, while the Farringham boys stood up cautiously from behind their sandbags and guns, watching in puzzlement. Baines and the little girl were nowhere in sight.
It was confusing for everyone but him. If he'd been the Doctor before now he'd have seen it coming. Of course, if he'd been the Doctor before now he'd have seen-and avoided-a lot of things.
His chest squeezed unpleasantly.
He went to his former bedside to retrieve the sonic, turned it on and listened to its buzz, once again as rich and full of bone-deep meaning as a native tongue. He scanned the room with it and peered at the readout: all the tracking information to find her was there-it was practically an engraved invitation.
It felt good to be back and it felt awful. A head full of the last few weeks and a soul that no longer matched them. All the things he'd put into motion, that he'd said and done and professed to believe…all had been witnessed by others and set into stone, part of events. He wasn't embarrassed, exactly, it had all just been so…exposed. No big brain leather coat rattling off science terms flash in the pan sleight of hand. Nothing but a man against the world using the same weapons as everyone else, and searching his everyday life for something more.
And John had received his something more-he was heir to all the travel and adventure he could ever have conceived, only he'd never know it.
It was unfortunate. Doubly so that John's innocent, unspoken heart's desire granted was also the Doctor's curse restored.
The thought stopped him a moment; he pinched the bridge of his nose while his eyes squeezed gently closed. He felt as though he'd unknowingly banished his own restored innocence, chucked a free-pass chance at happiness. "Welcome back!" Life was saying, "We kept your pain nice and fresh for you."
Pain that would flare to renewed life soon when he'd be forced to unceremoniously chuck his other doorway to innocence, give back the best gift he'd ever received when he had to tell Rose… another chest squeeze. Back to distractions.
Blimey, re-entry was a right bitch.
He took a moment of silence and homage for John Smith, a man he both was and wasn't. A man whose dreams were big and whose heart was bigger, braver...more resilient than his.
The Doctor felt his bottom lip trembling slightly and he laughed softly against the silliness of his emotions. To John Smith, he thought fondly-had he met him on his travels, the Doctor would have dearly loved to show him the stars.
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Joan was standing in the foyer, brow furrowed as she watched the retreat of the scarecrows, when she heard the footsteps. She looked to the stairs and saw him descending them at a sprightly clip. She stared for a minute until she was sure enough to ask: "Doctor?"
"At your service," he beamed. Oh my-her heart fluttered a bit. She'd sometimes seen a facsimile of that grin when John was around Rose, but now it was different: manic and gleeful and charming and knee-weakening…
…and just a little bit untrue.
His body now seemed too mobile for the stiff layers of clothes it wore, likely to split the knees or elbows at any time due to sheer volatility. Joan blinked, shook her head to clear it. "I'm sorry," she stammered with a smile, "I didn't expect you'd look the same."
He was grinning at her flustered air; to regain her composure she pointed to the makeshift bunkers outside. "They're retreating, did you see?"
The Doctor nodded. "Yes…and they've taken Rose." Joan felt her eyes go wide. "Teleported her somehow," he explained. "The moment I was back, they knew. Dunno why they didn't just take me but it doesn't matter-now they know I'm coming to them and that's apparently what they wanted." Joan marvelled at how different his speech was now: quick and assured and authoritative, without John's defensive air.
She brought herself back to the topic. "How will you find them?"
The Doctor held up the sonic. "Magic wand," he said with a waggled-eyebrow grin. "That and I believe I've been there."
"What will you do when you find them?"
Something in his eyes grew harder while his smile remained. "Make them wish they hadn't taken her." Joan felt a rush of cold goosebumps.
An awkward silence fell as they stood in the hall with boys streaming by them, carrying supplies back to storage. "Well, it seems my work here is over," Joan said finally, hands wringing gently. "Will I see you again? Either of you?" she added quickly.
"Might do," allowed the Doctor. "Never know with me." His smile grew gentler and-dare she say?-affectionate. "You've been fantastic, Joan Redfern," he said. "Epically fantastic." She had no time to prepare as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, leaning back with that grin already in place.
She blushed and nodded, not looking at him. "It was an adventure I'd not have missed for the world," she said firmly, managing then to meet his eyes.
The Doctor nodded; he turned to go. Suddenly Joan was struck with a feeling that had to be voiced.
"Doctor?" she called, and he turned back. "Don't you dare give her up," she warned. She suddenly felt very indignant, and nothing to be trifled with. She hoped it showed. "You owe her better and you'll do no one any good, her nor yourself."
The Doctor studied her a long moment, a wry smile on his face. "You're a little bit psychic, Joan Redfern," he said, before turning to stride out the doors.
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He hadn't even really looked at the sonic's information before heading to the clearing in Cooper's Field-it had to be where the ship was. Rose had known or at least suspected the Family was there back when they'd first gone. Yet another wave of dread rolled through him: Rose had carried so much for him, and now he was going to repay her with heartache. Joan was right, she deserved better, but now it was too late. And it was entirely his fault, he'd led her on. He'd created the whole situation then let it play out to its worst possible conclusion. He should've known that the feelings he normally kept under wraps as a Time Lord wouldn't be safe behind the control of a mere human.
Yes, he knew the feelings were there, along with sexual urges dragged into being out of the depths of his nature by any number of factors, not least of which his apparently inability to do anything by the standards the Time Lords used to impose. But while he couldn't help having the feelings, at least as himself he could keep them where they belonged. He felt for a minute one sliver of their volcanic nature and shook his head as he walked. A human didn't stand a chance.
He'd reached the clearing. He held the sonic high and pressed the button, causing the ship's outline to flare bright then dim to a soft glow. A door on the side was clearly open. He squared his shoulders, the impending escapade giving him no anticipation, no feeling of adventure, no joy. Only necessity and his ferocious anger impelled him to go in.
Showtime, he thought.
He stood in the doorway and called out: "Hello! Couldn't help but notice you were laser-bombing the area so I thought I'd pop by." His voice bounced down the strange bone and sinew corridors of the Family's ship, giving them plenty of warning that he was approaching as he walked in. Obviously the ship was grown, like his TARDIS. He could feel in his head how different this craft was, though, how it wasn't nearly as smart or benevolent as the ship that housed him. Something almost feral about it, animal and ignorant. He knew Rose would be feeling it too; her sensitive nature would be picking it up, and it'd be adding to any fear or discord she'd be going through.
Rose. Chest squeeze. Anger and desolation flared again. He determined the Family would be taking the brunt of this one. "Yoo hoo!" he called breezily. "I've got jammy dodgers!"
He made it to what seemed the main area of the ship and one by one the Family appeared, as though they were oozing out of the shadows. Rose's ex-friend, glaring with gleeful malevolence as she'd never done as her bubbly human self. Mr. Clark, dead-eyed and violent, that eerie little girl. Baines was the last, still grinning his death's head grin.
The Doctor feigned having a good look around. "Nice decorating, very smart," he noted. "I love what you've failed to do with the place."
Baines' eyes glittered at him from across the space. "Doctor," he said with amused satisfaction. "I had always heard you were entertaining in a crisis."
"Crisis?" The Doctor made a show of being amiably confused. "I'm just here to take Rose home." His smile at the end became less friendly.
Baines' head made that odd tilt. "Really? Well, had you counted on her being here?"
He took a long stick and used it to push aside a kind of strange, fleshy panel, revealing Rose. She stood on a platform jutting out from a wall, high above some kind of raised ulcer in the floor that formed a pit. She was perched on the very end of it, saved from falling only by a thin line tied to her wrists behind her back, with the other end coming out of the wall behind her. Her weight against the line pulled it taut. Something in the pit sent out ominous vapours. Very Nestene Consciousness.
The Doctor's only reaction was a quick, dry swallow he knew the Family weren't keen enough to catch. "Blimey, this setup's a bit corny, innit? What happen, you always want to be a Bond villain?"
His eyes flicked to Rose's, and found her looking into his face, searching it. He thought maybe she was looking for reassurance, some sign of their old camaraderie, a hint of that breezy shared attitude that life-threatening danger was only a good story waiting to be told later. He sent her a wink and hoped the turmoil in his heart didn't show. From her weak smile, it may have.
Meanwhile Baines was monologuing. "Doctor, I think you underestimate the value of a good pit of Ungunthian Cyclops stomach acid as a means of ensuring cooperation." He reached up with his stick and hovered it around Rose's face. "Especially when dealing with certain captives who repeatedly fail to follow commands." Unexpectedly the end of the stick dropped to Rose's middle and he gave her a good shove in the gut with it, which Rose took with a grunt of surprise.
Two things happened to the Doctor then, one more alarming than the other.
The first thing was expected: he felt his chest heave with anger at the sight of Baines causing Rose pain.
The second occurrence was also physical, centred lower and caused the Doctor an immense amount of shame: his whole body flooded with sharp arousal.
He knew for certain it wasn't a reaction to Rose being in pain-never, never that. But it was a reaction to the guttural sound she'd made-it was nearly identical to sounds he'd heard her make when he was John, when they were together, alone, and he was pushing into her hard and fast because he was close, so close, and her eyes were squeezed shut and her breasts were bouncing frantically-
He clamped down on the images that were hitting him in a full-blown assault. His eyes shot to hers and she was merely looking at him, same as before, so she hadn’t detected it. This was impossible, unspeakable. This shouldn't be happening now he was himself again. He was a bloody Time Lord, not some shamefully hard-wired ape.
But the arousal was undeniable.
Oh God. He was broken. His ability to bury the feelings had been overpowered. Somehow she'd not only opened the door to those feelings, she'd broken the lock while she was at it.
He realized he'd been silent too long and had to speak before Baines detected any kind of weakness. "Why are you mucking about with all this?" he demanded, ruthlessly forcing himself to be commanding. "Why not just transmat me once you knew I was back?"
"Oh, do give us some credit, Doctor," purred Baines. "You'll hardly be surprised to learn that your reputation precedes you. To have you to here, against us with only yourself at stake…we'd have the disadvantage. But with something to lose…" His gaze drifted knowingly between the Doctor and Rose. "…you have to be careful."
The Doctor didn't even try to bluff with the lie that perhaps what they had, he didn't mind losing. It would be an absurd argument even to these oblivious, grasping dimwits.
Baines meandered closer to the Doctor while staying wisely out of his reach. "I would so like to ask more about your carnal adventures among the apes," he leered, "about the wisdom of attaching yourself so…intimately to something so unrefined and ultimately fragile, but I'm afraid I've become quite impatient for my prize. You have one minute to agree to let us take your life force, before the fair Rose faces an untimely-though delicious-demise."
He gave a terse nod to the little girl, who pulled a lever on a very crude, steampunk mechanism. Rose yelped as the line that held her upright above the pit began paying out with excruciating slowness, angling her body more and more acutely, closer to the pit, closer to giving her no way to keep her feet and avoid falling. And while short, the line would be long enough to let her fall in.
The Doctor looked thoughtful and began pacing. "You know, it's interesting. On the way over here-"
"Doctor!" Rose interrupted him.
He held up a "one second" finger. "On the way over here I literally stopped to smell the flowers. These flowers, as a matter of fact." He stuck both hands into the pockets of his tweed jacket and brought forth two handfuls of freshly-picked poppy blossoms. Despite themselves, every member of the Family stepped back.
The Doctor smiled knowingly. "Yes, you lot-the real you, inside those human shells-have a very bad reaction to these things. Leaves, seeds, petals-just about every part of them." A thought occurred to him; he shifted one hand's worth of petals to the other and burrowed into his pocket again, displaying his find with a smile. "Found a pretty rock, too."
"Those flowers can kill us!" accused Rose's maid friend shrilly.
"Can do, yeah, depending on what I do with them. Question is, what will I do?"
"Do it fast!" Rose yelled, pitching forward alarmingly.
"I do always like to give people a chance..." he considered, before his face became the coldest stone imaginable. "But I've given you plenty."
In two strides he was at the pit, where he dumped the poppies into the acid. Immediately they produced a loud sizzling noise and visible fumes that speedily permeated the air around them. "Fun fact! Combined with Ungunthian Cyclops stomach acid, poppies create a very nasty vapour that strangely enough, doesn't harm humans! Or Time Lords, but that goes without saying." Then with one explosion of fluid movement he slung the rock at the lever, knocking it into the other direction. The line stopped lengthening and Rose breathed a sigh of relief-she was at just about the last tenable angle to keep her footing.
The Family, however, were not breathing well at all. Choking and gagging, they ran for the door, but a quick zap of the sonic slammed it shut.
"We'll die from this!" thundered Clark.
"No you won't," the Doctor dismissed. "However that gas will separate you from those bodies. Little trick Charles Dickens taught me," he smiled. He was at the ship's consoles, fiddling with dials and buttons. "And with just a small rejiggering of your exhaust systems...I can trap you in workings of your own ship." The air in the ship suddenly began moving toward the strange, jagged holes in the walls that had previously been pumping air out-what served as fans on the ship were now sucking it in. Satisfied, the Doctor headed to untie Rose.
With a final shriek the maid suddenly disintegrated in a shower of sparks, loosing the green gaseous creature that had been animating it. It rose into the air but with no physical form left to grip anything, was sucked helplessly into the now-howling vents.
Clark and the little girl had collapsed to the ground, writhing. An alarmingly pale Baines clung to a bony strut for support. "Judge, jury and executioner once more, Doctor?" he taunted hoarsely. "Where will it end?"
"I told you, you're not going to die," the said Doctor shortly. He glanced back contemptuously. "Dying's too good for you."
Baines ignored him. "What was it that pushed you into murder once more, Doctor? Can't stand that we threatened your cheap little-"
"I gave you a chance!" The Doctor turned and thundered. "You had a chance when I told you not to follow me! You had a chance for two whole months to decide to give it all up and go home. You had a chance until you started killing townspeople!" His fury nearly gave off visible waves. "You've had more chances than you ever deserved."
The little girl rolled over with a final gasp and disintegrated, her real form sailing into the vents without resistance, followed soon by Clark. Baines howled with rage, collapsing to the floor and suddenly stilling. A moment later he flailed for something in the shadows.
As the Doctor was busy climbing up and just then reaching Rose's platform, he wasn't in a position to see what Rose herself could. "Doctor!" she screeched.
The Doctor's head spun just in time to see Baines retrieve a blaster and shoot wildly in their direction, a last vicious effort to damage them before his body was gone. Said body turned to sparks just as the shot he'd fired burned through the line holding Rose up, disintegrating it with a sizzle.
Rose screamed as the Doctor lunged forward, grabbing Rose around the wrist and a remaining bit of cord still sticking out of the wall with the other. He strained with all his strength and managed to drag Rose up far enough that he could let go her wrist and quickly grab her waist, a feat which made her shout in alarm. Then his nose was buried in her hair and her body was flush against his side; he could smell her sweat and she was panting and whimpering, and once again the Doctor found himself in dire, shameful straits. He shook with adrenaline that was only half supplied by their predicament, and spared a half a second's thought to be grateful she wasn't pressed against his front to feel how shockingly fast he'd hardened. John had always been a slave to the sounds she made.
"Rose," he panted. "Try-try and calm down..." He knew he was telling himself as much as her.
He concentrated on pulling them up, grunting and groaning himself as he strained. In a few moments he had them standing firmly on the platform again and Rose instantly threw her arms around his neck with a sob of relief. Even if the last few moments of effort and concentration had not largely cleared up the Doctor's problem, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself hugging her back unreservedly, he was so genuinely grateful.
They clung to each other for a long moment until Rose spoke, tears now in her voice. "Doctor," she whispered. "I've-I've missed you so much."
The Doctor closed his eyes and relished the feel of her. "I'm sure if I'd known I was gone I'd've missed you too." Rose gave a teary laugh, and the Doctor smiled as she squeezed him tighter.
She pulled back to look at him with shining eyes, full of question and expectation. It was the moment when John would have kissed her, when any man would have done, and the love and relief in her face begged for it.
The Doctor hesitated, just a moment too long.
And Rose's face fell, all the life and love gone out of it.
She turned to the task of getting herself down. The Doctor offered his hand. "I can do it," she said softly.
She was soon down and heading for the door. The Doctor used the sonic to unlock it for her, and then she was outside.
Aside from the destruction of his planet, the Doctor wasn't sure any situation in his life had ever hurt more.