Borrowed Time
Title: Borrowed Time
Author: jiji_bean
Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose
Rating: Teen
Timeline: Series 2, after Girl in the Fireplace
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who - as much as that pains me to say.
Summary: The Tenth Doctor is having a rough night - and a visit from an old "friend" isn't helping any.
Borrowed Time
Chapter 1
Sometimes, the Doctor wished he could sleep. To be able to tumble into nothingness, to pass out for most of the night and wake up looking and feeling refreshed with no memory of the night’s worries.
Like a human.
The Doctor sighed into the silence of the deserted hallway of the Tardis. He walked slowly down the corridor when he suddenly came to a stop outside Rose’s room. She had left the door open, much to the Doctor’s amazement. Rose was always so private. Hesitantly, but not having enough of a will to push himself away, he leaned his slender form against the doorway. He smiled down at his slumbering companion, her blond hair fanned on her pillow, her rosy lips smiling mysteriously. The Doctor smiled in response, just as he always does. Just then, Rose turned on her side, facing the doorway. She did it so suddenly that the Doctor thought she had seen him there. He took a step closer. “Rose?” he whispered. He was greeted by a gentle snore escaping her slightly open mouth. He chuckled in relief. Realizing that he was close enough to touch her, something the Doctor could never resist doing, whether it was him hugging her or touching her arm, he always found a way - subconsciously sometimes…consciously most of the time.
He rarely had this chance, however. To see a still, unknowing Rose was rare to come across. She was always there next to him, smiling up at him or asking question after question that he was always so happy to answer. It made him proud to know that she had wanted to ask questions and not merely be content with standing by watching events pass her by.
How could he let such an opportunity slip through his fingers?
So, the lonely Time Lord stepped closer to his loyal friend. The closer he got to her, the more beautiful she became. Was that even possible, the Doctor asked himself. As he looked at her fair skin, her pouty pink lips - he knew that in her case, it was. He reached out, his hand visibly shaky, much to his embarrassment. Good thing she’s asleep, he thought. He touched her hair with his fingertips, the slight sensation warming his usually cool skin. He ran his fingers through the golden locks, ultimately reaching the side of her face. When he felt her skin under his touch, he could feel the blood rushing to his face. He gingerly felt her cheek with his thumb when he suddenly recognized the hard thumping of his hearts. The sensation terrified him instantly and he moved away from Rose, as if she had burned his very core. Trying very much to be quiet, he stepped through the doorway, closing it clumsily on his way out into the hall. He slumped his back on the wall opposite her door, dragging in a ragged breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Unable to register his thoughts and more horrifying, his…feelings…he began to walk briskly to the console room. What’s wrong with me, he thought, it’s only Rose…she’s my best mate, my loyal companion… Deep inside, a place where he had long since given up on, he knew there was something else…something more there, but he couldn’t grasp it, he couldn’t let it linger…
Just then, as only a Time Lord could tell, he felt a change in the atmosphere. Someone is touching my ship, he accused suddenly. In an instant, he’s ran down the corridor, reaching the heart of the Tardis quickly. Then he sees him. The Doctor came to an abrupt stop, almost tripping over nothing in the process. That’s…that’s not possible, he thinks.
“Oh, but you like impossible, remember?” said the familiar stranger.
The Doctor’s jaw dropped. No, is the only thing he could think.
“Oh, yes,” said the man with the large ears.
The Doctor tumbled back a step. You can’t be here.
The man in the green jumper and beaten up leather jacket smiled his manic grin, from big ear to big ear.
“And yet I am. How’s that, then?” he smirked.
Before the Doctor could think in response, the Ninth Doctor chirped in, “And can you talk out loud, the telepathy is givin’ me a headache.”
The Doctor, was for once, quite speechless.
***
Chapter 2
Author: jiji_bean
Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose
Rating: Teen
Timeline: Series 2, after Girl in the Fireplace
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who - as much as that pains me to say.
Summary: The Tenth Doctor is having a rough night - and a visit from an old "friend" isn't helping any.
Borrowed Time
Chapter 1
Sometimes, the Doctor wished he could sleep. To be able to tumble into nothingness, to pass out for most of the night and wake up looking and feeling refreshed with no memory of the night’s worries.
Like a human.
The Doctor sighed into the silence of the deserted hallway of the Tardis. He walked slowly down the corridor when he suddenly came to a stop outside Rose’s room. She had left the door open, much to the Doctor’s amazement. Rose was always so private. Hesitantly, but not having enough of a will to push himself away, he leaned his slender form against the doorway. He smiled down at his slumbering companion, her blond hair fanned on her pillow, her rosy lips smiling mysteriously. The Doctor smiled in response, just as he always does. Just then, Rose turned on her side, facing the doorway. She did it so suddenly that the Doctor thought she had seen him there. He took a step closer. “Rose?” he whispered. He was greeted by a gentle snore escaping her slightly open mouth. He chuckled in relief. Realizing that he was close enough to touch her, something the Doctor could never resist doing, whether it was him hugging her or touching her arm, he always found a way - subconsciously sometimes…consciously most of the time.
He rarely had this chance, however. To see a still, unknowing Rose was rare to come across. She was always there next to him, smiling up at him or asking question after question that he was always so happy to answer. It made him proud to know that she had wanted to ask questions and not merely be content with standing by watching events pass her by.
How could he let such an opportunity slip through his fingers?
So, the lonely Time Lord stepped closer to his loyal friend. The closer he got to her, the more beautiful she became. Was that even possible, the Doctor asked himself. As he looked at her fair skin, her pouty pink lips - he knew that in her case, it was. He reached out, his hand visibly shaky, much to his embarrassment. Good thing she’s asleep, he thought. He touched her hair with his fingertips, the slight sensation warming his usually cool skin. He ran his fingers through the golden locks, ultimately reaching the side of her face. When he felt her skin under his touch, he could feel the blood rushing to his face. He gingerly felt her cheek with his thumb when he suddenly recognized the hard thumping of his hearts. The sensation terrified him instantly and he moved away from Rose, as if she had burned his very core. Trying very much to be quiet, he stepped through the doorway, closing it clumsily on his way out into the hall. He slumped his back on the wall opposite her door, dragging in a ragged breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Unable to register his thoughts and more horrifying, his…feelings…he began to walk briskly to the console room. What’s wrong with me, he thought, it’s only Rose…she’s my best mate, my loyal companion… Deep inside, a place where he had long since given up on, he knew there was something else…something more there, but he couldn’t grasp it, he couldn’t let it linger…
Just then, as only a Time Lord could tell, he felt a change in the atmosphere. Someone is touching my ship, he accused suddenly. In an instant, he’s ran down the corridor, reaching the heart of the Tardis quickly. Then he sees him. The Doctor came to an abrupt stop, almost tripping over nothing in the process. That’s…that’s not possible, he thinks.
“Oh, but you like impossible, remember?” said the familiar stranger.
The Doctor’s jaw dropped. No, is the only thing he could think.
“Oh, yes,” said the man with the large ears.
The Doctor tumbled back a step. You can’t be here.
The man in the green jumper and beaten up leather jacket smiled his manic grin, from big ear to big ear.
“And yet I am. How’s that, then?” he smirked.
Before the Doctor could think in response, the Ninth Doctor chirped in, “And can you talk out loud, the telepathy is givin’ me a headache.”
The Doctor, was for once, quite speechless.
***
Chapter 2