Fic: Less Complicated (2/2)
Title: Less Complicated
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Reinette, Ten/Rose, Mickey
Rating: Light R for non-graphic sexual situations and language
Summary: From the uncrowned queen of France to the shop girl off the Powell Estate, the Doctor didn’t have to do a thing and hearts were thrown at his feet.
Betas: Many thanks to my betas, both illustrious cheerleaders and red-pen-wielders, requialexa and unfolded73.
Disclaimer: BBC owns, etc. etc.
Author's Notes: Fair warning: the Doctor and Reinette do a whole lot more than flirt or snog in this. But this really is, at its heart, a Doctor/Rose fic (I promise!). Because I’ve long-since wondered what would have happened if the Doctor hadn’t been too late, and Madame de Pompadour did join Team TARDIS. How would she have shaken things up? AU from Girl in the Fireplace.
-Part One-
Part Two
Unbeknownst to apparently everyone else on this ship, Rose was not an idiot. The Doctor was being more distant than usual; Mickey was clearly hiding something and wouldn’t even look at her. In fact, the only one who would look at her was their new guest. So either they were planning on throwing Rose a surprise party or something was going on.
She knew what she was in for when the Doctor told them Madame de Pomapdour was coming on board. And no, she wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea; Reinette was in love with the Doctor. Or thought she was. Grew up with this fantasy hero in her head who said he’d come and save her one day. And then did. And then whisked her off in his magic ship. What regular bloke could compete with that? Any girl’d fall in love. Any girl had. From the uncrowned queen of France to the shop girl off the Powell Estate, the Doctor didn’t have to do a thing and hearts were thrown at his feet for the stomping.
Not that she’d let him do that to her. She was more determined than ever to keep her own feelings in check around him. By not throwing a jealous strop she was showing that she’d grown as a person (okay, maybe only since her last such strop, the other day, with Sarah Jane), but more than that she was... respecting the delicate balance of her confusing relationship with the Doctor. They weren’t together, so what say did she have over what beautiful women he talked to, or where his eyes strayed?
The Doctor had invited Reinette to thank her for providing him a way home; to show a remarkable person the brilliant world outside of her own. But Rose knew there was another reason. It was also why he’d told Mickey he could come, over her protests. More sets of eyes on this ship meant there was less time that they could be alone. Other people meant safety. Not much danger of her grabbing the Doctor by the hair and snogging him senseless (again), when Mickey was around. No chance with Reinette along for the ride as well.
Although apparently, that didn’t stop her. Reinette had been seducing the Doctor since the moment she was old enough to. That meant years for her, and Rose knew a determined woman when she saw one. Reinette, by all accounts, was used to getting what she wanted, and had charms Rose herself did not possess. If anyone could successfully seduce the Doctor, it would be Reinette.
And that something going on? Might very well be that she’d succeeded. The thought made Rose feel more than slightly ill. There was, despite her determination, the rage of jealousy there, sharp as a knife, but that wasn’t the only emotion stirred up by the possibility. It was almost, and this made little sense, even in her own head, but it was almost relief. The Doctor was changing, letting someone in. And if Reinette had to be the catalyst for the change she’d like to think began with her own positive influence in his life, maybe that was... okay?
Which was ridiculous, because the thought of them, together...
She had to know, one way or the other. Didn’t she? And who would give her a straight answer? Maybe Reinette. But could she say anything to her?
About a week now they’d all travelled together. A week oddly devoid of danger. She wondered if the TARDIS had a hand in that, or if they’d just been lucky. Today they were in some sort of dome, suspended in the rings of Saturn, on their way to the best cafe in the Human Empire in the 44th century. The path they walked from the TARDIS looked like it was suspended in the vibrantly coloured space dust, the clear dome sparkling all around them.
She’d been lagging behind, wrapped up in her own head. The Doctor walked ahead of Mickey and Reinette, pointing out marvellous things like a museum docent, about the dome, about this space mall, hardly glancing behind to see if his companions were paying attention.
Shaking herself from her circular thoughts that weren’t doing anyone any good, she decided to play this game like the Doctor. If you pretended nothing was wrong long enough, maybe nothing would be wrong. She skipped ahead and grabbed the Doctor’s hand and clutched it in hers. He turned to her and gave her a delighted smile, one that made his eyes sparkle, her heart ache, and her stomach flip. Maybe she’d been wrong about everything. She beamed back at him, and his smile faltered just a bit, like he’d just remembered something. But he swung their arms between them and called to the others to keep up.
“You’ll have no idea what to order,” the Doctor said when they arrived at the crowded cafe. “I’ll sort it out,” he said to them all. “Go find us a table.” He changed directions mid stride and made for a jumble of people on the other side of the large room, where, beneath a large blinking sign saying INPUT, there was apparently a queue for ordering food.
Suddenly seeing an opportunity to get Reinette alone without it seeming odd, everything she’d been trying to ignore for the past few minutes came bubbling up to the surface.
“I’ll just pop off to the loo,” she said to Mickey and Reinette. “Reinette, do you want-?”
“I’m fine,” Reinette said quickly. “You go on. Mickey and I will do as the Doctor charged.”
“’Kay,” she said, and then, trying for a joke: “Find us something by a window.”
Well. So much for that idea. Maybe it was for the best that she remained in the dark. Ignorance was bliss, all that? She shrugged and started weaving through the crowd, looking for something that might be the ladies.
>>>
Reinette found herself alone with Mickey for the first time in the week they’d been travelling together. Sitting across a garish orange table from each other, he barely looked up, instead preferred to examine the material from which the small table was constructed or the edge of the clear dome near them and muttering something about “space age.”
Mickey had been ill at ease around her for some time now. It hadn’t started right away, though. Indeed that first night of dancing and carousing in Hollywood had been her favourite adventure. Since then, she’d sensed a coldness from just about everyone. Not the Doctor, not in her bed at nights, and Rose always had a cheerful smile, but at turns, everyone seemed more disturbed by her presence than not. She had rocked this little family and she wasn’t exactly sure why, though she suspected her sleeping with the Doctor had much to do with it.
They apparently hadn’t been as discreet as he had indicated was necessary, and this group couldn’t keep the matters of the boudoir from the rest of life’s affairs. This enormous ship they travelled in, more vast by all account than Versailles, was a far more... intimate environment than the French court.
And while she understood why Rose might take issue with her trysts with the Doctor (the girl was clearly ridiculously in love, no matter the platonic state of their relationship) why should Mickey care what she did with the Doctor? He looked at Rose with such naked longing when he thought others weren’t observing him, she would have thought that anything that might distract the object of Rose’s affections could only be a good thing as far as he was concerned. Though she didn’t know the extent of their relationship, she gathered Mickey had been in love with Rose for years.
“Were you lovers?” she asked, apropos of nothing outside of her own thoughts.
“What?”
“You and Rose,” she said, inclining her head in the direction Rose had gone.
Mickey lifted his eyes, which flitted over hers, then past her shoulder and across the crowded room, where the Doctor was still in line to ‘input’ their meal orders.
“We were... she was my girlfriend for a while, a couple years, so...”
“And then the Doctor came and swooped her away?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he answered.
“That must have been difficult for you.”
“It was for a year. They thought I’d done away with her and the grief I got from the police, from Jackie. I could barely keep a job, and I tried to tell people-”
He looked relieved to be able to air his complaints to someone who’d not heard them before, but he stopped himself abruptly.
“Look,” he said, finally looking at her directly. He paused again like the rest was harder to say. “She loves him.”
His eyes implored her to understand his meaning without him having to say anything further. He meant Rose, and that she loves the Doctor. This wasn’t news to her. But... Ah.
“And you love her,” she stated, not a question.
“I want her to be happy.”
“So much so you’d rather she be with him and not with you?”
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“That is,” she said, reaching across the table and placing her hand over his, “a very selfless love, Mickey. Most aren’t capable of it.”
Was she?
“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, shrugging, looking nervous again.
Could she do what this man before her was doing, effectively send her lover into the arms of another, for his own good? Or at least, not get in the way of something he wanted... perhaps needed. She loved the Doctor, she cherished every moment she’d had with him, but she had a life to get back to. And so did the Doctor. That life didn’t include her, not for anything longer than a brief dalliance.
She made up her mind, then.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
His eyes filled with alarm and relief all at once. “No, I didn’t mean that you should-”
“That’s all right,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I knew my time on the TARDIS was limited. I have to get back to my life and my King.” She paused, wondering how much to reveal to him. She figured what she’d say would be nothing he couldn’t figure out on his own. Mickey was more perceptive than others around him gave him credit for.
She spoke more softly than before. “And I am... not so selfless. Or I couldn’t be if I stayed.”
At his look over her shoulder again, she turned her head to see that Rose had caught up with the Doctor upon her return and was helping him carry the trays of food to the table.
“They...” she said, turning back to Mickey. And then, taking a deep breath, her heart clenching a bit as she spoke, “...They belong together.”
* * *
The last time they made love, he held her in his arms afterwards, told her she was beautiful.
“That’s a change from the first time,” she said. “When you didn’t even want to see my face.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to look at you,” he said softly. “It’s that... it’s what I didn’t want you to see.”
He didn’t quite say I didn’t want you to see me but he might as well have done. She held his admission close to her heart, knew his honesty, his openness at this moment meant it was definitely time for her to go.
“I know, my love.”
He closed his eyes. “Don’t...”
“Doctor,” she scolded gently, “you know as well as I do that love does not have to reciprocated to be genuine.”
He sighed, but didn’t contradict her.
“You walked through my life in a matter of what... minutes, Doctor? I knew you for years, my whole life.”
“But you didn’t. You built up an idea of who I was, Reinette. A... a fantasy.”
“No,” she insisted. “I know you, Doctor. I saw inside your head.”
“A glimpse-”
“I still see inside your head. One does not become a king’s mistress without knowing how to read men. And you-this you, not any child’s fantasy-are a man. A Lord of Time, and more complicated than anyone I’ve ever met, but still a man, whose heart-hearts-are plainer than he thinks.”
He shifted, untangled himself from her, as if he were about to leave, but didn’t move again. He only looked at her, hard and appraising. He didn’t want to talk about this. Matters of the heart did not sit easily on his mind or his tongue. But he wanted to know what she was thinking, what she thought about him.
“Go on,” he said finally. “What do you see so plainly, then?”
She took a deep breath. “I see enough to know...” she paused, still not entirely sure if she could go through with this. Suddenly not at all certain that she had the will to leave him, never mind give him the push he needed to seek his own happiness.
“Know what?” he prodded.
“I’m not enough for you,” she said in a rush, cursing the tears she could feel forming in her eyes.
“Reinette...”
“I’m easy for you. Simple.”
That brought an edge of anger to his voice. “This has hardly been-”
Now that she’d begun, she couldn’t stop. “Sex, affection, without attachment. You know I’m leaving and that you... you can’t hurt me. Not really. You think your love destroys people because everyone you love has been destroyed. It doesn’t have to be that way.”
He sat up abruptly in bed, threw his legs over the side. He stilled then, his back to her.
“You can’t know that, Reinette.”
“Which part?” she asked, rising, placing a gentle hand on his bare shoulder.
He didn’t answer.
“You won’t destroy her, Doctor.”
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“She loves you, you know,” she said, whispering it against the cooling skin of his back.
He stiffened under her hand and she desperately wished he would turn to look at her. When he spoke, he was angry again, the tone of it icy, but the words were soft.
“You knew that and yet you seduced me?”
“You knew that,” she countered, “and yet you slept with me?”
He rose then and without a word, found his trousers and slipped them on. She had a crippling moment of self doubt; sure she’d gone about this all wrong. She may only have managed to push him away from her and further into his own self-loathing.
He grabbed for his shirt, but then dropped it and leaned against the wall opposite the bed, arms folded across his chest. He looked at her steadily for several minutes, and she let him. She sat still, wrapped in the bedclothes, letting him have his internal debate.
“You presume many things,” he said finally. “About me. About others as well.”
“Have I said anything that wasn’t true?”
“What Rose feels,” he said, speaking her name between them for the first time, “is not your business.”
“What you feel is.”
He snorted. “And you’ve got me all figured out, then, have you? A glimpse in my head, a week’s worth of shags and you know how to fix all my problems?”
She smiled at him, not taking offense at his words. It was his way, she was learning, to lash out in defence when he was upset.
“Not all your problems, no,” she said. “Just one.”
“Right, well, enlighten me. What would you have me do? Go to her, tell her the other woman I’ve been fucking told me I should go after my hearts’ desire, and lucky for you, Rose, that’s you?”
“You might not want to open with that,” she said, finally feeling a little exasperated. What was it with these people? In the modern age, did no one just go after what they wanted? Did everyone pine away and look longingly at what they could have if they only spoke the words necessary?
“She wouldn’t forgive me, Reinette,” he said softly, sorrow replacing his anger.
“Is that why you did it? Let me seduce you to erect an insurmountable wall between you?
“No, I... just wanted something...”
“Simple?” she said again.
He shook his head. “Less complicated.”
“But that isn’t what you need, is it, Doctor?”
He closed his eyes, gave another tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“You need her.”
He opened his eyes and sighed heavily, pushing off the wall and coming back toward her. He pulled back the covers, not even glancing at her body, but silently urging her to lie down. He got back in bed and pulled her into his arms again, kissing her on the temple, nothing sexual in the gesture at all.
“You need her,” she said again softly. “And I need to go home, back to my life, and back to the king. Say what you need to say, but go to her. Tell her. Don’t both live these... half-lives without love.”
He said nothing for several moments, and then he spoke quietly on the edge of another sigh. “You’re right. I know you are. And yet... I wish I could keep you.”
She laughed a little at that. “No one keeps me, my Lord. That’s why I’m the king’s mistress and not his wife. And that would be greedy of you, Doctor, having two women who love you.”
He said nothing, but made a small sound that sounded something like amusement.
“You’re thinking about having us both at once, aren’t you?”
He laughed outright, a short bark of delight. “I wouldn’t,” he said, sounding mock scandalized in a way that told her if he hadn’t been, he absolutely was now. She felt an incredible relief that he let his mood be so shifted.
“See,” she said, “A Time Lord, but still a man.”
>>>
He hadn’t really thought it through, had he, inviting Reinette on board? He only knew he hadn’t wanted that adventure to be over. In his elation at finding a way home, he’d wanted to delight someone else as well. And she adored him and had been no more ready for him to leave than he’d been to part company with her. And she deserved to see beautiful things. And yes, he’d wanted to show off. And damn this body, full of desires, despite years of conditioning in his youth to prevent such baseness in his nature, he’d wanted her.
But he’d shown her her star. And she’d shown him, so much. Opened his eyes, rather, to what he’d already known. Now, after leaving her room for the last time, he was unsure whether or not to be grateful to her for that. He wasn’t sure he could do as she’d told him, and sort things with Rose. Where would he even begin?
A shower, he thought. He’d begin there. Then his feet would carry him to Rose’s room. And then? Well, he’d do it like he’d done everything else in his long life. He’d make it up as he went along.
>>>
A knock at Rose’s door roused her from a barely-asleep sleep. There was really only one person it could be, and yet she was still a little surprised to see the Doctor come in. He sat at the edge of her bed and simply said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said, sitting up in bed. “What’s going on?”
“Um,” he said. “Nothing? Does anything need to be going on?”
She studied him, squinting, wondering if maybe she hadn’t woken at all. “Usually, if you come into someone’s room in the middle of the night, yeah.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Suppose that’s true. Just that, you know, full TARDIS, we haven’t had any opportunities lately, just the two of us, to... talk.”
“Do we need to?” she asked, beginning to feeling apprehensive. “To talk?”
“Well...” He paused, looking like he was deciding on something very important. Then he said, firmly, “Yes. We do.” Then he said nothing.
“Okay, so...” she prodded after a minute.
He took a deep breath. “I’ve just come from Reinette’s room,” he began.
Her eyes widened, taking in his disturbed air, his wet hair fresh from the shower. This was it then? He was going to confirm her suspicions? And then what?
“Oh...” she let out on a breath. Summoning up her courage, her brave face, “So you and Rei-?” she began to ask before he cut her off.
“She told me she’s leaving tomorrow. Going home.”
“Oh,” she said, frowning, confused. “Why?” Despite everything, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to leave this life.
“For the sake of history, I suppose,” he said on a sigh, clearly leaving out volumes. He scooted up next to her, leaning against her headboard, crossing his arms across his chest and feet at his ankles.
“You have a time machine,” she pointed out. “She could travel with you for years and go back as soon as she left.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Yes, she could,” he finally said. “She doesn’t want to.”
“Oh,” she said a third time, feeling silly and emotional, and not exactly sure how to respond. He looked sad, hurt even. But with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t define. Excitement maybe. Nervousness, at least. Like he was bursting to say more, but couldn’t or didn’t know how. He stared straight ahead as he began to speak again.
“This was only ever a lark for her. A holiday, not a... lifestyle choice. She loves her life at home, Rose. That’s how she’s different from the rest of us.”
“Us?”
“I ran away from home too, you know. A couple times. From my ‘work and food and sleep,’ you could say.”
She smiled at him, remembering his words to her when he’d asked her to travel with him, even as she could feel the wetness of tears pooling in her eyes.
“But doesn’t she...” She swallowed. “Doesn’t she also love you?”
He turned to look at her again. “Yes,” he said simply, and she was shocked at how candid he was being. “She said she does, anyway. That’s another reason she’s leaving.”
She hated feeling the tears roll down her face, but refused to swipe at them. “I don’t...” She cleared her throat. “I don’t understand.”
“She wants me to be happy. She feels she’s...” He stopped, corrected himself. “She is an impediment to that.”
“Why?” she blurted out, her heart hammering, her mind whirling.
He looked at her like that answer was obvious. “You make me happy, Rose.”
He unfolded his arms and leaned forward to place a lingering kiss against her hair. “I just thought you should know,” he said. “Get some rest.” He rose from her bed and made for the door.
“Wait!” she called as his hand landed on the door knob. She scrambled out of bed to stand between him and the door. His eyes raked nervously over her. “You can’t just say that to a girl and leave.”
“Really?” he asked, unsurely, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head.
“Really. What does that even mean? I make you happy?”
“Yes?” he said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure the answer would please her.
She took a deep breath. “Do you want me?”
He looked at her squarely, his expression as open and honest as she’d ever seen it. “Every inch of you,” he said softly.
She flushed at his words, and a large part of her wanted to throw her arms, and every inch of herself around him, but she knew she couldn’t. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Do you want her?”
The Doctor didn’t answer.
>>>
The morning of Reinette’s departure from the TARDIS, Mickey peered through her open doorway, checking in, as she packed her few belongings.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
She looked up from her valise and gave him a watery smile. “No,” she said, shakily.
He smiled back, softly. He couldn’t help but feel a bit for her.
She schooled her features into the noble, emotionless... French face she wore most of the time. “But it’s time for me to go home.”
He agreed with a shrug. “Guess so.”
“Could you...” She seemed about to say something very important, but she stopped herself. “Could you check and see if the Doctor has set the coordinates for Versailles, please, Mickey?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Of course.”
He turned away, but not before he saw her close her eyes and take a take a deep, steadying breath.
He walked slowly towards the console room. Before arriving, though, he turned a corner to see the Doctor and Rose, standing in the hallway just outside of it. They stood, leaning on opposite walls, each mirroring the other’s pose, arms crossed protectively across their chests. They spoke softly, but their voices carried down the hall. He ducked out of sight before they spotted him.
“Doctor,” he heard Rose say, calmly as if she was discussing the shopping list. “I won’t be just another blonde for you.”
“Rose,” the Doctor said sharply. “How could you think-?” He stopped, audibly grappling for words, but didn’t continue.
“What am I supposed to think?”
He heard the deep breath the Doctor let slowly out through his nose. “There’s no one for me but you, Rose.”
“Because she’s leaving?” Rose asked, and he could tell she was only just holding in venom... or tears.
He heard a rustle of fabric, and the Doctor say roughly, “Because of you.”
Mickey closed his eyes. Even he’d fall for the bastard when he spoke like that. But knowing Rose, she wouldn’t be easily swayed. Nor should she be. The Doctor, he figured, still had a ways to go.
He supposed this point was as good as any to make his presence known. Any longer and it might become even more awkward. When he rounded the corner, trying to make it seem like he’d had some momentum behind him, Rose was in the same defensive stance, but the Doctor had stepped forward, and had a hand laid softly on Rose’s cheek.
The Doctor sprang back from Rose when they saw him come down the hall, and both tried to look entirely too casual.
“Mickey!” the Doctor said with over-exuberance, meeting him in the hall and clapping him on the shoulder. “Just the man I wanted to see. Shall we stop off for anything French in Versailles? A bottle of wine from their cellars? A roasted pheasant?”
“Nah, maybe we’ve had our fill of French stuff for a while.” Mickey said, wriggling away from the Doctor and carrying on into the console room, not looking back to see their expressions.
“Mickey! “ Rose called after him, following him into the room.
“What? I’m just saying...” he mumbled.
The Doctor entered then and walked directly to the controls, without looking at either of them, pulling levers and twisting knobs. Reinette came into the console room with her bag just as the TARDIS was shuddering to a fairly smooth landing.
“Versailles,” the Doctor declared with a flourish, leaning back against the jumpseat. “Right year even,” he said glancing at the monitor. “Date too.”
Reinette gave a small inscrutable smile, and looked at all of them and none of them, spread out as they were around the console. “Suppose this is farewell, then.”
Madame de Pompadour left the TARDIS with specific goodbyes to each of them. First she approached the Doctor, hugged him tightly and said simply, “Goodbye Doctor.”
“Give my best to the King of France,” the Doctor replied.
Rose she kissed affectionately on the cheek and whispered something to her, too softly for anyone else to hear. Rose’s expression held the ghost of a smile.
Mickey hadn’t really expected to receive the same treatment, but in a moment her soft lips were also brushing against his cheek.
“Look after them, Mickey,” Reinette said into his ear. “They’re idiots.”
FIN
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Reinette, Ten/Rose, Mickey
Rating: Light R for non-graphic sexual situations and language
Summary: From the uncrowned queen of France to the shop girl off the Powell Estate, the Doctor didn’t have to do a thing and hearts were thrown at his feet.
Betas: Many thanks to my betas, both illustrious cheerleaders and red-pen-wielders, requialexa and unfolded73.
Disclaimer: BBC owns, etc. etc.
Author's Notes: Fair warning: the Doctor and Reinette do a whole lot more than flirt or snog in this. But this really is, at its heart, a Doctor/Rose fic (I promise!). Because I’ve long-since wondered what would have happened if the Doctor hadn’t been too late, and Madame de Pompadour did join Team TARDIS. How would she have shaken things up? AU from Girl in the Fireplace.
-Part One-
Part Two
Unbeknownst to apparently everyone else on this ship, Rose was not an idiot. The Doctor was being more distant than usual; Mickey was clearly hiding something and wouldn’t even look at her. In fact, the only one who would look at her was their new guest. So either they were planning on throwing Rose a surprise party or something was going on.
She knew what she was in for when the Doctor told them Madame de Pomapdour was coming on board. And no, she wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea; Reinette was in love with the Doctor. Or thought she was. Grew up with this fantasy hero in her head who said he’d come and save her one day. And then did. And then whisked her off in his magic ship. What regular bloke could compete with that? Any girl’d fall in love. Any girl had. From the uncrowned queen of France to the shop girl off the Powell Estate, the Doctor didn’t have to do a thing and hearts were thrown at his feet for the stomping.
Not that she’d let him do that to her. She was more determined than ever to keep her own feelings in check around him. By not throwing a jealous strop she was showing that she’d grown as a person (okay, maybe only since her last such strop, the other day, with Sarah Jane), but more than that she was... respecting the delicate balance of her confusing relationship with the Doctor. They weren’t together, so what say did she have over what beautiful women he talked to, or where his eyes strayed?
The Doctor had invited Reinette to thank her for providing him a way home; to show a remarkable person the brilliant world outside of her own. But Rose knew there was another reason. It was also why he’d told Mickey he could come, over her protests. More sets of eyes on this ship meant there was less time that they could be alone. Other people meant safety. Not much danger of her grabbing the Doctor by the hair and snogging him senseless (again), when Mickey was around. No chance with Reinette along for the ride as well.
Although apparently, that didn’t stop her. Reinette had been seducing the Doctor since the moment she was old enough to. That meant years for her, and Rose knew a determined woman when she saw one. Reinette, by all accounts, was used to getting what she wanted, and had charms Rose herself did not possess. If anyone could successfully seduce the Doctor, it would be Reinette.
And that something going on? Might very well be that she’d succeeded. The thought made Rose feel more than slightly ill. There was, despite her determination, the rage of jealousy there, sharp as a knife, but that wasn’t the only emotion stirred up by the possibility. It was almost, and this made little sense, even in her own head, but it was almost relief. The Doctor was changing, letting someone in. And if Reinette had to be the catalyst for the change she’d like to think began with her own positive influence in his life, maybe that was... okay?
Which was ridiculous, because the thought of them, together...
She had to know, one way or the other. Didn’t she? And who would give her a straight answer? Maybe Reinette. But could she say anything to her?
About a week now they’d all travelled together. A week oddly devoid of danger. She wondered if the TARDIS had a hand in that, or if they’d just been lucky. Today they were in some sort of dome, suspended in the rings of Saturn, on their way to the best cafe in the Human Empire in the 44th century. The path they walked from the TARDIS looked like it was suspended in the vibrantly coloured space dust, the clear dome sparkling all around them.
She’d been lagging behind, wrapped up in her own head. The Doctor walked ahead of Mickey and Reinette, pointing out marvellous things like a museum docent, about the dome, about this space mall, hardly glancing behind to see if his companions were paying attention.
Shaking herself from her circular thoughts that weren’t doing anyone any good, she decided to play this game like the Doctor. If you pretended nothing was wrong long enough, maybe nothing would be wrong. She skipped ahead and grabbed the Doctor’s hand and clutched it in hers. He turned to her and gave her a delighted smile, one that made his eyes sparkle, her heart ache, and her stomach flip. Maybe she’d been wrong about everything. She beamed back at him, and his smile faltered just a bit, like he’d just remembered something. But he swung their arms between them and called to the others to keep up.
“You’ll have no idea what to order,” the Doctor said when they arrived at the crowded cafe. “I’ll sort it out,” he said to them all. “Go find us a table.” He changed directions mid stride and made for a jumble of people on the other side of the large room, where, beneath a large blinking sign saying INPUT, there was apparently a queue for ordering food.
Suddenly seeing an opportunity to get Reinette alone without it seeming odd, everything she’d been trying to ignore for the past few minutes came bubbling up to the surface.
“I’ll just pop off to the loo,” she said to Mickey and Reinette. “Reinette, do you want-?”
“I’m fine,” Reinette said quickly. “You go on. Mickey and I will do as the Doctor charged.”
“’Kay,” she said, and then, trying for a joke: “Find us something by a window.”
Well. So much for that idea. Maybe it was for the best that she remained in the dark. Ignorance was bliss, all that? She shrugged and started weaving through the crowd, looking for something that might be the ladies.
>>>
Reinette found herself alone with Mickey for the first time in the week they’d been travelling together. Sitting across a garish orange table from each other, he barely looked up, instead preferred to examine the material from which the small table was constructed or the edge of the clear dome near them and muttering something about “space age.”
Mickey had been ill at ease around her for some time now. It hadn’t started right away, though. Indeed that first night of dancing and carousing in Hollywood had been her favourite adventure. Since then, she’d sensed a coldness from just about everyone. Not the Doctor, not in her bed at nights, and Rose always had a cheerful smile, but at turns, everyone seemed more disturbed by her presence than not. She had rocked this little family and she wasn’t exactly sure why, though she suspected her sleeping with the Doctor had much to do with it.
They apparently hadn’t been as discreet as he had indicated was necessary, and this group couldn’t keep the matters of the boudoir from the rest of life’s affairs. This enormous ship they travelled in, more vast by all account than Versailles, was a far more... intimate environment than the French court.
And while she understood why Rose might take issue with her trysts with the Doctor (the girl was clearly ridiculously in love, no matter the platonic state of their relationship) why should Mickey care what she did with the Doctor? He looked at Rose with such naked longing when he thought others weren’t observing him, she would have thought that anything that might distract the object of Rose’s affections could only be a good thing as far as he was concerned. Though she didn’t know the extent of their relationship, she gathered Mickey had been in love with Rose for years.
“Were you lovers?” she asked, apropos of nothing outside of her own thoughts.
“What?”
“You and Rose,” she said, inclining her head in the direction Rose had gone.
Mickey lifted his eyes, which flitted over hers, then past her shoulder and across the crowded room, where the Doctor was still in line to ‘input’ their meal orders.
“We were... she was my girlfriend for a while, a couple years, so...”
“And then the Doctor came and swooped her away?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he answered.
“That must have been difficult for you.”
“It was for a year. They thought I’d done away with her and the grief I got from the police, from Jackie. I could barely keep a job, and I tried to tell people-”
He looked relieved to be able to air his complaints to someone who’d not heard them before, but he stopped himself abruptly.
“Look,” he said, finally looking at her directly. He paused again like the rest was harder to say. “She loves him.”
His eyes implored her to understand his meaning without him having to say anything further. He meant Rose, and that she loves the Doctor. This wasn’t news to her. But... Ah.
“And you love her,” she stated, not a question.
“I want her to be happy.”
“So much so you’d rather she be with him and not with you?”
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“That is,” she said, reaching across the table and placing her hand over his, “a very selfless love, Mickey. Most aren’t capable of it.”
Was she?
“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, shrugging, looking nervous again.
Could she do what this man before her was doing, effectively send her lover into the arms of another, for his own good? Or at least, not get in the way of something he wanted... perhaps needed. She loved the Doctor, she cherished every moment she’d had with him, but she had a life to get back to. And so did the Doctor. That life didn’t include her, not for anything longer than a brief dalliance.
She made up her mind, then.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
His eyes filled with alarm and relief all at once. “No, I didn’t mean that you should-”
“That’s all right,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I knew my time on the TARDIS was limited. I have to get back to my life and my King.” She paused, wondering how much to reveal to him. She figured what she’d say would be nothing he couldn’t figure out on his own. Mickey was more perceptive than others around him gave him credit for.
She spoke more softly than before. “And I am... not so selfless. Or I couldn’t be if I stayed.”
At his look over her shoulder again, she turned her head to see that Rose had caught up with the Doctor upon her return and was helping him carry the trays of food to the table.
“They...” she said, turning back to Mickey. And then, taking a deep breath, her heart clenching a bit as she spoke, “...They belong together.”
* * *
The last time they made love, he held her in his arms afterwards, told her she was beautiful.
“That’s a change from the first time,” she said. “When you didn’t even want to see my face.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to look at you,” he said softly. “It’s that... it’s what I didn’t want you to see.”
He didn’t quite say I didn’t want you to see me but he might as well have done. She held his admission close to her heart, knew his honesty, his openness at this moment meant it was definitely time for her to go.
“I know, my love.”
He closed his eyes. “Don’t...”
“Doctor,” she scolded gently, “you know as well as I do that love does not have to reciprocated to be genuine.”
He sighed, but didn’t contradict her.
“You walked through my life in a matter of what... minutes, Doctor? I knew you for years, my whole life.”
“But you didn’t. You built up an idea of who I was, Reinette. A... a fantasy.”
“No,” she insisted. “I know you, Doctor. I saw inside your head.”
“A glimpse-”
“I still see inside your head. One does not become a king’s mistress without knowing how to read men. And you-this you, not any child’s fantasy-are a man. A Lord of Time, and more complicated than anyone I’ve ever met, but still a man, whose heart-hearts-are plainer than he thinks.”
He shifted, untangled himself from her, as if he were about to leave, but didn’t move again. He only looked at her, hard and appraising. He didn’t want to talk about this. Matters of the heart did not sit easily on his mind or his tongue. But he wanted to know what she was thinking, what she thought about him.
“Go on,” he said finally. “What do you see so plainly, then?”
She took a deep breath. “I see enough to know...” she paused, still not entirely sure if she could go through with this. Suddenly not at all certain that she had the will to leave him, never mind give him the push he needed to seek his own happiness.
“Know what?” he prodded.
“I’m not enough for you,” she said in a rush, cursing the tears she could feel forming in her eyes.
“Reinette...”
“I’m easy for you. Simple.”
That brought an edge of anger to his voice. “This has hardly been-”
Now that she’d begun, she couldn’t stop. “Sex, affection, without attachment. You know I’m leaving and that you... you can’t hurt me. Not really. You think your love destroys people because everyone you love has been destroyed. It doesn’t have to be that way.”
He sat up abruptly in bed, threw his legs over the side. He stilled then, his back to her.
“You can’t know that, Reinette.”
“Which part?” she asked, rising, placing a gentle hand on his bare shoulder.
He didn’t answer.
“You won’t destroy her, Doctor.”
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“She loves you, you know,” she said, whispering it against the cooling skin of his back.
He stiffened under her hand and she desperately wished he would turn to look at her. When he spoke, he was angry again, the tone of it icy, but the words were soft.
“You knew that and yet you seduced me?”
“You knew that,” she countered, “and yet you slept with me?”
He rose then and without a word, found his trousers and slipped them on. She had a crippling moment of self doubt; sure she’d gone about this all wrong. She may only have managed to push him away from her and further into his own self-loathing.
He grabbed for his shirt, but then dropped it and leaned against the wall opposite the bed, arms folded across his chest. He looked at her steadily for several minutes, and she let him. She sat still, wrapped in the bedclothes, letting him have his internal debate.
“You presume many things,” he said finally. “About me. About others as well.”
“Have I said anything that wasn’t true?”
“What Rose feels,” he said, speaking her name between them for the first time, “is not your business.”
“What you feel is.”
He snorted. “And you’ve got me all figured out, then, have you? A glimpse in my head, a week’s worth of shags and you know how to fix all my problems?”
She smiled at him, not taking offense at his words. It was his way, she was learning, to lash out in defence when he was upset.
“Not all your problems, no,” she said. “Just one.”
“Right, well, enlighten me. What would you have me do? Go to her, tell her the other woman I’ve been fucking told me I should go after my hearts’ desire, and lucky for you, Rose, that’s you?”
“You might not want to open with that,” she said, finally feeling a little exasperated. What was it with these people? In the modern age, did no one just go after what they wanted? Did everyone pine away and look longingly at what they could have if they only spoke the words necessary?
“She wouldn’t forgive me, Reinette,” he said softly, sorrow replacing his anger.
“Is that why you did it? Let me seduce you to erect an insurmountable wall between you?
“No, I... just wanted something...”
“Simple?” she said again.
He shook his head. “Less complicated.”
“But that isn’t what you need, is it, Doctor?”
He closed his eyes, gave another tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“You need her.”
He opened his eyes and sighed heavily, pushing off the wall and coming back toward her. He pulled back the covers, not even glancing at her body, but silently urging her to lie down. He got back in bed and pulled her into his arms again, kissing her on the temple, nothing sexual in the gesture at all.
“You need her,” she said again softly. “And I need to go home, back to my life, and back to the king. Say what you need to say, but go to her. Tell her. Don’t both live these... half-lives without love.”
He said nothing for several moments, and then he spoke quietly on the edge of another sigh. “You’re right. I know you are. And yet... I wish I could keep you.”
She laughed a little at that. “No one keeps me, my Lord. That’s why I’m the king’s mistress and not his wife. And that would be greedy of you, Doctor, having two women who love you.”
He said nothing, but made a small sound that sounded something like amusement.
“You’re thinking about having us both at once, aren’t you?”
He laughed outright, a short bark of delight. “I wouldn’t,” he said, sounding mock scandalized in a way that told her if he hadn’t been, he absolutely was now. She felt an incredible relief that he let his mood be so shifted.
“See,” she said, “A Time Lord, but still a man.”
>>>
He hadn’t really thought it through, had he, inviting Reinette on board? He only knew he hadn’t wanted that adventure to be over. In his elation at finding a way home, he’d wanted to delight someone else as well. And she adored him and had been no more ready for him to leave than he’d been to part company with her. And she deserved to see beautiful things. And yes, he’d wanted to show off. And damn this body, full of desires, despite years of conditioning in his youth to prevent such baseness in his nature, he’d wanted her.
But he’d shown her her star. And she’d shown him, so much. Opened his eyes, rather, to what he’d already known. Now, after leaving her room for the last time, he was unsure whether or not to be grateful to her for that. He wasn’t sure he could do as she’d told him, and sort things with Rose. Where would he even begin?
A shower, he thought. He’d begin there. Then his feet would carry him to Rose’s room. And then? Well, he’d do it like he’d done everything else in his long life. He’d make it up as he went along.
>>>
A knock at Rose’s door roused her from a barely-asleep sleep. There was really only one person it could be, and yet she was still a little surprised to see the Doctor come in. He sat at the edge of her bed and simply said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said, sitting up in bed. “What’s going on?”
“Um,” he said. “Nothing? Does anything need to be going on?”
She studied him, squinting, wondering if maybe she hadn’t woken at all. “Usually, if you come into someone’s room in the middle of the night, yeah.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Suppose that’s true. Just that, you know, full TARDIS, we haven’t had any opportunities lately, just the two of us, to... talk.”
“Do we need to?” she asked, beginning to feeling apprehensive. “To talk?”
“Well...” He paused, looking like he was deciding on something very important. Then he said, firmly, “Yes. We do.” Then he said nothing.
“Okay, so...” she prodded after a minute.
He took a deep breath. “I’ve just come from Reinette’s room,” he began.
Her eyes widened, taking in his disturbed air, his wet hair fresh from the shower. This was it then? He was going to confirm her suspicions? And then what?
“Oh...” she let out on a breath. Summoning up her courage, her brave face, “So you and Rei-?” she began to ask before he cut her off.
“She told me she’s leaving tomorrow. Going home.”
“Oh,” she said, frowning, confused. “Why?” Despite everything, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to leave this life.
“For the sake of history, I suppose,” he said on a sigh, clearly leaving out volumes. He scooted up next to her, leaning against her headboard, crossing his arms across his chest and feet at his ankles.
“You have a time machine,” she pointed out. “She could travel with you for years and go back as soon as she left.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Yes, she could,” he finally said. “She doesn’t want to.”
“Oh,” she said a third time, feeling silly and emotional, and not exactly sure how to respond. He looked sad, hurt even. But with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t define. Excitement maybe. Nervousness, at least. Like he was bursting to say more, but couldn’t or didn’t know how. He stared straight ahead as he began to speak again.
“This was only ever a lark for her. A holiday, not a... lifestyle choice. She loves her life at home, Rose. That’s how she’s different from the rest of us.”
“Us?”
“I ran away from home too, you know. A couple times. From my ‘work and food and sleep,’ you could say.”
She smiled at him, remembering his words to her when he’d asked her to travel with him, even as she could feel the wetness of tears pooling in her eyes.
“But doesn’t she...” She swallowed. “Doesn’t she also love you?”
He turned to look at her again. “Yes,” he said simply, and she was shocked at how candid he was being. “She said she does, anyway. That’s another reason she’s leaving.”
She hated feeling the tears roll down her face, but refused to swipe at them. “I don’t...” She cleared her throat. “I don’t understand.”
“She wants me to be happy. She feels she’s...” He stopped, corrected himself. “She is an impediment to that.”
“Why?” she blurted out, her heart hammering, her mind whirling.
He looked at her like that answer was obvious. “You make me happy, Rose.”
He unfolded his arms and leaned forward to place a lingering kiss against her hair. “I just thought you should know,” he said. “Get some rest.” He rose from her bed and made for the door.
“Wait!” she called as his hand landed on the door knob. She scrambled out of bed to stand between him and the door. His eyes raked nervously over her. “You can’t just say that to a girl and leave.”
“Really?” he asked, unsurely, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head.
“Really. What does that even mean? I make you happy?”
“Yes?” he said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure the answer would please her.
She took a deep breath. “Do you want me?”
He looked at her squarely, his expression as open and honest as she’d ever seen it. “Every inch of you,” he said softly.
She flushed at his words, and a large part of her wanted to throw her arms, and every inch of herself around him, but she knew she couldn’t. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Do you want her?”
The Doctor didn’t answer.
>>>
The morning of Reinette’s departure from the TARDIS, Mickey peered through her open doorway, checking in, as she packed her few belongings.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
She looked up from her valise and gave him a watery smile. “No,” she said, shakily.
He smiled back, softly. He couldn’t help but feel a bit for her.
She schooled her features into the noble, emotionless... French face she wore most of the time. “But it’s time for me to go home.”
He agreed with a shrug. “Guess so.”
“Could you...” She seemed about to say something very important, but she stopped herself. “Could you check and see if the Doctor has set the coordinates for Versailles, please, Mickey?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Of course.”
He turned away, but not before he saw her close her eyes and take a take a deep, steadying breath.
He walked slowly towards the console room. Before arriving, though, he turned a corner to see the Doctor and Rose, standing in the hallway just outside of it. They stood, leaning on opposite walls, each mirroring the other’s pose, arms crossed protectively across their chests. They spoke softly, but their voices carried down the hall. He ducked out of sight before they spotted him.
“Doctor,” he heard Rose say, calmly as if she was discussing the shopping list. “I won’t be just another blonde for you.”
“Rose,” the Doctor said sharply. “How could you think-?” He stopped, audibly grappling for words, but didn’t continue.
“What am I supposed to think?”
He heard the deep breath the Doctor let slowly out through his nose. “There’s no one for me but you, Rose.”
“Because she’s leaving?” Rose asked, and he could tell she was only just holding in venom... or tears.
He heard a rustle of fabric, and the Doctor say roughly, “Because of you.”
Mickey closed his eyes. Even he’d fall for the bastard when he spoke like that. But knowing Rose, she wouldn’t be easily swayed. Nor should she be. The Doctor, he figured, still had a ways to go.
He supposed this point was as good as any to make his presence known. Any longer and it might become even more awkward. When he rounded the corner, trying to make it seem like he’d had some momentum behind him, Rose was in the same defensive stance, but the Doctor had stepped forward, and had a hand laid softly on Rose’s cheek.
The Doctor sprang back from Rose when they saw him come down the hall, and both tried to look entirely too casual.
“Mickey!” the Doctor said with over-exuberance, meeting him in the hall and clapping him on the shoulder. “Just the man I wanted to see. Shall we stop off for anything French in Versailles? A bottle of wine from their cellars? A roasted pheasant?”
“Nah, maybe we’ve had our fill of French stuff for a while.” Mickey said, wriggling away from the Doctor and carrying on into the console room, not looking back to see their expressions.
“Mickey! “ Rose called after him, following him into the room.
“What? I’m just saying...” he mumbled.
The Doctor entered then and walked directly to the controls, without looking at either of them, pulling levers and twisting knobs. Reinette came into the console room with her bag just as the TARDIS was shuddering to a fairly smooth landing.
“Versailles,” the Doctor declared with a flourish, leaning back against the jumpseat. “Right year even,” he said glancing at the monitor. “Date too.”
Reinette gave a small inscrutable smile, and looked at all of them and none of them, spread out as they were around the console. “Suppose this is farewell, then.”
Madame de Pompadour left the TARDIS with specific goodbyes to each of them. First she approached the Doctor, hugged him tightly and said simply, “Goodbye Doctor.”
“Give my best to the King of France,” the Doctor replied.
Rose she kissed affectionately on the cheek and whispered something to her, too softly for anyone else to hear. Rose’s expression held the ghost of a smile.
Mickey hadn’t really expected to receive the same treatment, but in a moment her soft lips were also brushing against his cheek.
“Look after them, Mickey,” Reinette said into his ear. “They’re idiots.”
FIN