Summer '11 Fixathon!
“Morning, Doris.”
Rose mumbled sleepily when she stumbled into the kitchen, not minding the exact time of the day. Morning was fixed to when she woke up. It was very kind of the Brigadier and his wife to offer her a bed to crash in if she popped by.
She kissed Doris on the cheek as she got a mumbled ‘afternoon’ in return. The other person sitting at the table received the same treatment.
“Morning, Doctor.”
Rose was not just sleepy, she also had the worst hangover ever. Which was why her brain was more befuddled then was her morning standard.
“My head’s killing me.” She complained as she plopped down on a chair and let said part of her body go bang on the tabletop. “Never gonna chat up a Time agent in a bar on the Moon again. Feels like there’re Cybermen playing hopscotch inside my skull. With Daleks cheering them on.”
Thing is, now she at least knew how Jack ended up passed out, in nothing but his pants and socks, handcuffed to the railing in the console room. With ‘looser’ written over his chest with a magic marker. The Doctor had been laughing at him for an entire week.
“Thanks.”
She stole the cup of tea from the person sitting next to her without looking up. With closed eyes she savoured its aroma and took a small sip.
“I think the Doctor lied. This is the best tea in the world.”
Rose downed the cup in a few gulps and returned to her previous position of half lying on the table. Tea, the best cure for everything, especially at jumpstarting the brain.
“You’re really quiet today, Doris. Please, tell me I’m not here.”
There were two basic rules she told Lethbridge-Stewarts - not to let her meet herself,
She received just a grunt as affirmation.
“Good.” She still didn’t look up, just flailed her hand about and grabbed a banana, possibly from the fruit bowl, and tucked it in the pocket of her pyjamas.
The kitchen was still awfully quiet and she realised that the niggling feeling of dread in the back of her head wasn’t just from the hangover.
“It’s the TARDIS in the back garden, innit?”
- and not to let her meet the wrong Doctor.
“And he’s sitting right next to me, isn’t he?”
Doris nodded at both of her questions, even though Rose couldn’t possibly see it. So she just looked up and grinned. “Hello.”
There was shocked recognition mirrored in both of them, something not realised until now. She didn’t know the Doctor had been once this young. And blonde. Seeing him again was like bucket of ice water to the face.
“Oh my god,” she blurted out, “I snogged you when I was fifteen.”
With that Rose ran out of the kitchen, up the stairs, through the corridor and into her room, where she had the Dimension Cannon. She nearly fell on the stairs and cursed the fluffy slippers in five languages.
“Wait!” Shouted the Doctor, hot on her heels.
With one last glance at him she dived after the Dimension Cannon lying on the duvet, not noticing that the rest of her things were missing. She was gone in a flash of light, leaving behind one distraught Doctor.
*
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Doris tried to save her china as the two time travellers ran out like a tornado. And nearly jumped out of her skin when she got a helping hand.
“Mind if I take a scone?”
“What... How?”
“Sorry for startling you, but it was a close call when those two ran straight past me.”
Doris, it seemed, learned the art of glaring rather well.
“I borrowed the TARDIS, she’s in the library.” Rose tugged at her ear nervously. “I don’t think she likes the silent landing, she’s sulking.”
“One of these days, you’re going to be the death of me.” Doris sighed and poured both of them a cup of tea. “Scone?”
“Thanks. And not according to the future I saw.
“How so?” She shook her head. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know. But what are you doing here with the TARDIS?”
“This thing,” Rose took out her usual means of transport from her pocket and waved it a bit before putting back, “is far too random for what I had in mind. Half of the time I don’t even end up on Earth. Anyway, I need to get going, just needed to get my things.” She held out an identical jacket to the one she wore, and if Doris wasn’t seriously mistaken, it was the same one. “Still have to pop by UNIT earlier to leave them there. Have to hurry, the Doctor doesn’t know I borrowed the TARDIS, while he went of gallivanting elsewhere, locking me in. Thanks for the tea.”
“So you finally found him?” There was such hope in Doris’ voice Rose was sorry to crush it.
“No. Looks like I’m late this time.”
Doris sighed as she sipped at her tea and then offered a small smile when the morose Doctor walked in, muttering under his breath that she just vanished again.
Life with those two around was never dull.
*
It looked like she landed in the Sahara, except the sun had a wrong tint to it and she saw the orange-furred cat-sized mouse. Unless she hallucinated the animal. Given the sun’s harsh glare, her parched throat and the not so gone hangover, anything was possible. Rose sought out the refuge of the sole half dead plant that looked like a banana tree, but its shade was getting too short for her liking. She already spent hours there, instead of the twenty minutes it would have taken the Dimension Cannon to recharge. Because the stupid thing had to brake down in her head-first dive and subsequent landing. Adding to her general discomfort were her scraped hands and she was also sweating in her flannel pyjamas. Pink with tiny roses - what was Doris thinking?
A shadow loomed over her, shielding her from the sun a little and she had the feeling of being watched, about to be devoured.
“Go away, I have nothing to be robbed off.” She doubted it would work.
“Looks like, but I’d still like that screwdriver back.”
She startled and looked up at her would-be assailant, not quite trusting her ears. But it was him, her first Doctor - blue eyes, leather jacket and not much hair to speak of.
“What are you doing here anyway?” He continued when she failed to reply.
“Feels like dying, slowly roasting in the sun.”
It was a lame joke and he didn’t laugh, trying to glare a hole through her. She patted a patch of ground next to her, asking him to sit. He wavered, but complied with barely a grumble.
“Last time I saw you, your boyfriend was polishing your shoes in a London alley. Doesn’t explain how you came to be in the 51st century.”
Boyfriend? What boyfriend? Were her first thoughts before she connected the words and realised he was talking about events that happened more than a lifetime ago. Not something he should hold a grudge over, because... Oh.
“He’s fine now, thanks for asking. Not the crying idiot anymore.” There were even people who would gladly polish his shoes for him.
He turned his head to give her a Look. Didn’t faze her, even though its intensity was enough to turn grown men into quivering mass of goo.
“My London hopper broke down.” She threw the broken Cannon into his arms and he caught it with ease. “Would have been long gone otherwise.”
“London hopper?” Dark chuckle, with just a bit of humour creeping in. He pried open it’s casing with his screwdriver. “No wonder it broke down, it’s held together by chewing gum. Not counting the shoddy craftsmanship, it’s an intriguing piece of technology. I wouldn’t mind meeting the insane genius you lifted this from.”
“Sorry mate, not insane. Just really, really drunk.”
A new year’s party at Torchwood that turned into an alien invasion. The Earth was saved by a bunch of people who would’ve gotten arrested if they were caught driving even a bicycle. Much to the annoyance of the drawing board, no one remembered enough the next day to write down the report. Much to the amusement of everyone else, all that the security cameras had recorded were goldfish singing Christmas carols.
“Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing at Villengard. Are you here to watch the meteorite shower, or are you stalking me?”
The first option promised a spectacular sight, considering he came here to watch. The second seemed more likely, though she wouldn’t call it that. Stalking was such a rude word.
“Villengard? Don’t see any bananas. Except this one.” She picked the fruit from her pocket and peeled it, forgotten till now in all the commotion. “But that one’s from Earth, 20th century.”
VIllengard, 51st century - she remembered one conversation involving bananas and sonic blasters. Time agents, switching guns, spare batteries and...
“Oh.”
“What oh?” He looked up from his work of neatly soldering the wires.
“What do you say about investigating a weapon factory?” She stood up, discarding the banana peel and offered her hand in invitation. His face lighted up like a Christmas tree, but before he hauled himself up with her help he pocketed both the screwdriver and her Dimension Cannon. Damn.
*
“You just had to get yourself caught, didn’t you?” Arms folded, the Doctor glared at her through the bars of the cell. From the outside. “I’ll blame it on the shoes. Not exactly the best choice for running around those walkways. Apes and their fascination with stuffed animals. What are those, cats?”
“Shut up and get me out.” He didn’t have to be so smug about it. The fluffy slippers looked more canine in her opinion. And knowing the Universe’s poor choice of humour, she knew. “I think they’re supposed to be Wolves.”
He buzzed with the sonic by the lock but nothing much happened. “Can’t open it.” He shook the screwdriver and listened to its whine, as if it would whisper its secrets to his ear. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Give it here.” Rose held out her hand. The look he gave her was one of shock and horror.
“So you can steal it again? Don’t think so.” Or like she was about to take away his favourite toy.
“When have I ever...” She grinned when the realisation dawned on her. “So that’s why you’re so cranky. I promise to give it back. And for your information, I haven’t stolen your sonic screwdriver. But I’ll keep that in mind.”
She liked winding him up, his expression right now must have been the mirror of hers when he told her about the red bicycle. Grudgingly, he handed the sonic over. She waved it around a bit more than him, trying different settings. None of them worked. She set it on scanning and cursed the results in the Doctor’s language, something he used only when the TARDIS was being extra uncooperative with his repairs. He raised an eyebrow.
“Your pronunciation is atrocious, especially combined with that horrid accent. What did you find out?”
“It’s deadlock sealed. Completely sonic-proof, which is no wonder when they’re manufacturing sonic weapons. We’ll need a key. Or really brute force. You haven’t lifted one of those blasters by a chance?”
“Why? You said it yourself, the lock is sonic proof, it’ll just create an enormous backlash if I tried to blast it away.”
She hated him for looking so happy at her being locked up.
“Hand it over.”
He reached in his pocket at her command, but stopped before she could reach the gun.
“That’s suicide, blasting the door from the inside. You’ll end up being a pile of dust.”
“Who said anything about the door?”
Rose pointed the blaster at the wall and hoped she’ll not end up a pile of dust anyway.
*
They blew up the weapon factory together and then nipped off back in the TARDIS to watch the meteor shower because they missed it the first time around. It looked even more spectacular with the blazing inferno of an exploding factory on the horizon.
They sat in the TARDIS doorway afterwards, feet dangling out, enjoying the blackness of space in the middle of nowhere, the stars just distant bright flecks of light. They laughed when a spaceship zipped past them and span them a bit and they had to hold onto each other so they wouldn’t fall out. Rose rather suspected that the TARDIS just liked being silly.
“I should go.” Rose sighed, head leaning on his shoulder and squeezing his hand.
“Do you have to?” He said, expression turning from joyful to sombre, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’d love to stay, but I can’t.” She was probably breaking a dozen laws of time just by being here and knew it won’t be safe to stay. “Have somewhen else to be.”
“Hm. You never really said, how comes a London shop girl from the 21st century is gallivanting through time and space?”
“I had the best teacher ever.” Cheeky answer, cheeky grin.
“Really?” He frowned. “Do I know him?”
“Maybe. He’s got a really amazing time machine, two hearts and is a Time Lord. Calls himself the Doctor?” It was just a beat before he caught on.
“How? But you said no...”
Now it was Rose’s turn to frown. Oh.
“You came back, like you never even left. A second chance just for me, because I didn’t catch the first time ‘round that the old girl is a time machine as well.”
“Fantastic!”
His grin was so bright she was sure it had enough power to punch a hole through the void. Considering that was what she was doing with her toy time machine, it wouldn’t be that much of a feat right now.
He jumped to his feet and helped her up, shut the door and started his dance around the console, manic energy she was used to from his next body. Then he gave her back her Dimension Cannon, all repaired and with a few upgrades, though she doubted she’d ever need it to play Jingle Bells. Though she did appreciate one special feature in particular - the fast escape button. With the added batteries he pilfered batteries from the sonic blaster, she could jump again within a minute of her arrival. It had, of course, limited range and couldn’t be used twice in a row. It just had the benefit that if she ended up in a lion den, she could simply nip out. His words, not hers. Rose was suddenly afraid of their next meeting where she’d steal the sonic screwdriver. She didn’t particularly fancy becoming a snack in some Zoo.
The wristwatch he gave her was one of his own, the type that showed the exact date and time and relative location. Certainly handy for a time traveller.
They didn’t say goodbye, just bye and see you later, because they both knew they would be seeing each other again.
She vanished in a flash of light before the Doctor sent the TARDIS in the vortex (and subsequently 21st century London), because she didn’t really want to experience that again.
*
Appearing in a flash, her first thoughts were to thank the Doctor for fixing the Dimension Cannon - it was much smoother now, almost like stepping around of corner, instead of the jarring sensation of being dragged by her innards. Then she looked around, noticing she was probably in some kind of lab. She spotted a yellow vintage car she recognised from a photograph from Sarah Jane. Oh joy.
“Hello Brigadier.”
She checked her new watch - the seventies were just when the Doctor annoyed UNIT the most.
“Sorry to barge in, but I gotta go again.” She turned to the car and patted it - it might be an inanimate object, but it was the Doctor’s chosen means of transport. “By, Bessie.”
She pressed the fast escape button and left the bewildered soldier and the blonde woman behind before they had a chance to utter a word.
*
She landed in a rubbish tip and fell right on her arse. She was never going to wear these pyjamas again. She checked her watch - just a minute or two in the past and a few hundred yards from her previous location. She wondered if the day could get any worse, when something big, white and heavy nearly crushed her in its fall. She rolled away, but something else still ended on top of her. Or rather, someone else. A face she saw on the same photograph as the car.
He helped her up as well as brush away a few things that decided to stick. She returned the favour.
“Hello, I’m the Doctor.” He shook her hand in greeting with a smile she could die for. Like it was just perfectly normal everyday occurrence for him to meet new people in the middle of a garbage heap.
“Run for your life.” She muttered under her breath, not caring if he would hear. Now she’d have to confront the Brigadier with a far too young Doctor present. Into the Lion den it is then.
A/N: The situation with Five I am referring to is from the brilliant piece of fanfiction How he loved her/When you're older written by the brilliant jessalrynn . Three ended up in a rubbish tip in the end of Inferno, a short clip on youtube here.