The Elephant in the Room (1/1)
Title: The Elephant in the Room
Pairing: 9/Rose
Rating: K
Summary: He scowled at himself. He was jealous over some stupid fuzzy stuffed elephant?
A/N: Written for develish1. Sorry it's so late! I don't think it's quite what you expected, but the muse demanded it.
Her prompt is the picture below; she'll probably recognize some of the lines too ;) fogsblue was my wonderful beta- Thanks so much!
When Rose returned, she was lugging a giant, pink, stuffed elephant.
The Doctor let out an exclamation that would have offended the residents of Ruthgard Twelve and probably make several of their children cry. “What is that… thing?!” He said, staring at the fluffy object in horror. “And why would you possibly want that?”
“Herman won it for me,” Rose said, a little dreamily, a lot happy, and the Doctor glared at the just-noticed pretty boy hovering over her right shoulder. “He beat me in the water-gun race, and gave it to me instead.”
“Don’t know why he would want it, anyway,” the Doctor grumbled. “Where are you going to keep it?”
“My room,” Rose replied, and he thought about the ten or so other stuffed animals currently residing on her bed and floor. There were more than enough in his opinion, but she inexplicably liked having herself surrounded by inanimate furry creatures. He wondered if it was because of the recent lack of animate, decidedly not furry humanoids, specifically ones with blue eyes and two hearts. He could guarantee that he was a better cuddle than all of her stuffed animals combined, and much better looking than the thing in her arms now and this particular regeneration wasn’t even very attractive. Even the version of him that wore that abomination of a coat was better looking, and that was saying something.
He was distracted from his thoughts when Rose stood on her tiptoes to give the besotted boy a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” She beamed.
“My pleasure,” he responded, sappily, and the Doctor decided enough was enough.
“Right, time to go. Say goodbye to boyfriend number four, six, eight, whatever, and leave.” He stomped away, grumbling quietly to himself. “Stupid name, Herman. Sounds like a bookworm at a library. Or an accountant. Rose is too adventurous for an accountant.”
Who is she adventurous enough for, then? One of his past selves muttered.
Mind your own matters, he grumbled back to it. Pesky voices, they never knew when to leave very well alone. Just because he was the current model didn’t mean they could lend their own opinion, thank you very much.
“I’m naming him Longfellow,” Rose chirped happily as she trailed behind him (he wondered if Herman the accountant was following her). “You know, after that poet? Its ‘cause elephants are smart, and the long nose helps, too. What do you think?”
The Doctor was thinking a lot of things, but first and foremost was how he never gave Rose Tyler enough credit. This young woman was so very intelligent, but she never had faith in her abilities. He had been reading Longfellow last month in the library before Rose had dozed off, and had read to her one of his shorter poems to help her sleep. She had clearly remembered his name, if not the poem, and he looked over his shoulder to grin at her (and to see if Herman the accountant was still there).
“Sure he would appreciate that thing being named after him?” He asked, since he never could be completely honest with her. His smile grew when he saw that her newest acquisition had been left behind.
Rose laughed. “I think he’d be flattered, knowing that his poems were still being read so far in the future.”
“That he might,” he replied, before fishing around for his key. The TARDIS hummed happily as they walked in, a note of interest in Her Song as She noticed the object Rose was toting.
Not my idea, he told Her in disgust, then turned to Rose. “What you want for dinner? There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“’m fine, thanks. Herman bought a, what did he call it? Funnel cake earlier. That pretty much filled me up.” She snuggled the giant elephant, then wandered off to her room.
The Doctor sat on the bench and glared at the wall.
It’s your own fault, getting caught up with that gypsy woman, Five sniffed at him. No wonder she finds all those… others.
She was a Heionite; you know I couldn’t leave her alone without setting down precautions. Her telepathic powers were bleeding all over the place, He grumped back.
At this point, Seven chimed in. Which took all of two minutes.
You lot have been asexual for centuries, even with Romana, and all of the sudden you start harping me over missing out on a date? He retaliated. What, trying to make up for lost time through me?
They were silent, which was an answer in and of itself. He knew what they were thinking, though; he wasn’t getting any younger, and Rose had saved him; saved him, understood him, balanced him out.
Sighing, he draped his jacket over the jump seat and rolled up his sleeves. The TARDIS needed some of Her wires replaced, and brooding wouldn’t help matters.
With any luck, he thought, as he lifted up the grating and crawled under the console, that stupid elephant will soon be forgotten.
~*~
It wasn’t forgotten.
Rose took to lugging the thing everywhere with her, like a child with a security blanket. She curled up with it while watching a movie, used it as a pillow whenever she was sprawled out across the floor reading (she never used the sofas or chairs, a habit he found adorable if not slightly annoying whenever he almost tripped over her), dragging it behind her when she stumbled, sleepy and rumpled, into the kitchen for her morning boost of tea and sugary cereal. She even brought it with her to the console room, hugging it to her as she sat in the jump seat while he tinkered. She didn’t go so far as to bring it with her planet-side, thankfully, but the Doctor was getting tired of seeing it on the ship.
“What could you possibly see in that thing anyway?” He grumbled one afternoon as he was being forced to watch yet another Eastenders marathon.
Rose grinned as she snuggled with the elephant, and not him. “He’s big and warm and squishy. And Longfellow’s cute, in a ‘could-he-possibly-have-more-hearts’ sort of way.”
I have two hearts, he thought. Is that not enough or something?
On the sly, he counted the number on the elephant- five, from what he could see, one in each ear and some along the body- and wilted slightly. Then he scowled at himself. He was jealous over some stupid fuzzy stuffed elephant?
We’re a goner, Five lamented.
Go away, he snapped back.
~*~
It ended in the most unexpected way.
The Doctor found he could grow used to the elephant in the room. Yes, Rose no longer cuddled with him on the sofa whenever they had the television on, but she still talked to him, and the elephant was more of an accessory than a playmate. They still bantered and argued and made fun of each other as best friends were wont to do, but then came Atlantis.
Rose had wanted a beach, and Atlantis was famous for their pink sand and bright blue waters. Rose had been delighted, and changed into that bikini that drove him wild (not that he showed it). She even managed to talk him out of his leather jacket for a time, but after him checking to make sure it was still lying on the towel every two seconds or so, she gave up and ran off to play in the water without him. The Doctor had made sure to land during the ‘dead season’ for the tourist industry, so there were only a handful of people scattered about the beach and they could enjoy the sunshine and water in relative privacy. Rose grouped up with a girl her own age, and they tried teaching each other how to surf, shrieking and giggling every time they surfaced from being knocked over.
The Doctor, meanwhile, was busy building a sandcastle, sculpting an almost-perfect replica of the Citadel of the Time Lords, taking up nearly a five-foot square of sand as he did so. Several children of various alien races had gathered around to stare in awe as he worked, even volunteering to fetch buckets of sand and salt water, so that by the time Rose came out of the ocean, soaking wet and breathless from laughter, he had a nice little system of children running to and fro getting things he needed.
“Impressive,” She commented as she flopped down on the towel, sighing in relief. “What are you building?”
“Time Lord Citadel,” he said, quietly, reluctantly; Rose gasped softly. “You there, with the green hair; I need a bucket of wet sand.”
“Coming!” The child shouted, and ran off with his friend down to the water.
Rose watched in silence as the Doctor coaxed the sand into impressive and gravity-defying structures, impossible arches and curves sculpted with an artist’s hand and a man’s loving memory. By the time the sun was ready to set his task was accomplished, and the crowd he had attracted burst into applause.
“’s lovely,” Rose murmured, leaning over his shoulder, one hand resting against it for balance. “That where you lived?”
“It was my home, for a while,” He replied, and his eyes grew suspiciously wet. “I wanted you to see it, even if it’s made out of pink sand and saltwater.”
Her hand tightened slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
They passed a moment in silence, before he stood up and started walking towards the TARDIS. “Right, getting late. We should get going. Grab the towels, would you?”
By the time Rose finally got back to the TARDIS, he was already ensconced under the console, stripping wires with a vengeance and muttering darkly to himself. Rose hovered uncertainly on the ramp. “We leaving?” she asked.
He crawled out, avoiding her eyes as he started the dematerialization. “Gonna take a day or two in the Vortex. Some wiring needs to be replaced, and there’s a clog in one of Her fluid relays. Shouldn’t take too long, but the wiring is tricky business, and I’ll need to make sure I got everything connected right.”
“Ok. ‘M gonna go shower, and bring back tea, yeah?”
“Sounds good.” He was already heading into the hallways, searching for some new wires.
When Rose returned two hours later, hair damp and dressed in comfy flannel pajamas, toting a tea tray with his favorite kind of biscuits but which Rose hated, the Doctor noticed that for once, the elephant wasn’t with her.
“Where’s Longfellow?” he asked, leaning against the console. There was a smear of grease on his forehead and his hands were dirty, but Rose didn’t chastise him as he grabbed one of the biscuits. Instead, she smiled shyly and shuffled her feet, blushing slightly.
“I’m a bit old for stuffed animals, don’t you think?” She said. “Yeah, it was nice when that boy got him for me, but ‘s just a toy. There’s more important things to cherish than that silly thing.”
He was silent, watching her curiously. What did she mean?
Rose took a deep breath, and then met his gaze. “Can you tell me more about your world? I may not be able to see it, but… but you don’t have to be the only one to remember it, either.”
Stunned, the Doctor stared at her, half-eaten biscuit forgotten in his hand. “You… want to know about Gallifrey?” he asked.
“Is that what it’s called?” At his tiny nod, Rose smiled. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“It was a beautiful world.” He replied, voice distant. None of his companions had asked about his home before. They had either been there themselves, or simply assumed it looked like Earth because he looked human. Sure, before the War he had mentioned bits and pieces here and there- mostly complaining about the rigid social order- but no one had ever thought to ask. To think Rose was doing so now… he waited for the deep-seated guilt, the onslaught of tears, but instead found himself wanting to tell her. Even his past selves were silent at this admission, reeling in shock at her honest curiosity.
Gallifrey had haunted him for so long, even before he had lost it. The home that had never truly been his home, simply a place he was dragged back to time and again against his will or because he had to, never because he simply felt the desire to visit. It was a constant shadow in his life, looming just around the corner, his chain and burden and yet the only place he ever truly loved. He had hated the rules and restrictions and pomposity of his people, yet the world itself as a whole was more brilliant than any star. The buildings moved and curved with the land, stylized after symbols of nature and decorated with them; his language sang like the music of the universe, more complex than any other species could handle, yet anyone could feel the bone-deep meaning just by listening, even if they truly didn’t understand. Time flowed through the land like wind, smelling of possibilities and beginnings and endings and every turn in between, thrumming through his veins and mind and singing to his very soul. Even in the noisiest of places he could always hear Time’s subtle singing.
For all the corruption and darkness that had so infused the Time Lords by the end of everything, the world itself always remained pure, timeless, revered and worshipped. He missed his people, missed the cacophony at the back of his mind, the reminder that he always had a place to return to should he ever needed it, but it was the song of Time and feeling Gallifrey sing with it that he missed the most.
To protect himself, he had shoved Gallifrey to the darkest, deepest part of his mind, avoiding any mention, any thought, any concept of his lost home. And yet in doing so it had only grown in his power over him. All it had taken was one tiny, special, pink and yellow human with the stars in her eyes and the universe in her heart to break that hold over him. Gallifrey wouldn’t be forgotten; wouldn’t be restricted to just his mind, his memories, not any more.
“Let me show you something,” he said, and held out his hand.
As he led her to a locked room deep in the bowels of his ship, containing all that remained of his world, the TARDIS sighed and sang a Song of remembrance and acceptance. Maybe, without the burden of the past fully on his shoulders, Her Doctor could finally begin to move on. She sang him a Song of peace, and whispered a melody of future and love into his companion’s mind. The TARDIS could see all things, past future and present, and though even She didn’t know what the outcome would bring, She knew that from now on, Her Doctor and Her Rose would face it together as one.
Pairing: 9/Rose
Rating: K
Summary: He scowled at himself. He was jealous over some stupid fuzzy stuffed elephant?
A/N: Written for develish1. Sorry it's so late! I don't think it's quite what you expected, but the muse demanded it.
Her prompt is the picture below; she'll probably recognize some of the lines too ;) fogsblue was my wonderful beta- Thanks so much!
When Rose returned, she was lugging a giant, pink, stuffed elephant.
The Doctor let out an exclamation that would have offended the residents of Ruthgard Twelve and probably make several of their children cry. “What is that… thing?!” He said, staring at the fluffy object in horror. “And why would you possibly want that?”
“Herman won it for me,” Rose said, a little dreamily, a lot happy, and the Doctor glared at the just-noticed pretty boy hovering over her right shoulder. “He beat me in the water-gun race, and gave it to me instead.”
“Don’t know why he would want it, anyway,” the Doctor grumbled. “Where are you going to keep it?”
“My room,” Rose replied, and he thought about the ten or so other stuffed animals currently residing on her bed and floor. There were more than enough in his opinion, but she inexplicably liked having herself surrounded by inanimate furry creatures. He wondered if it was because of the recent lack of animate, decidedly not furry humanoids, specifically ones with blue eyes and two hearts. He could guarantee that he was a better cuddle than all of her stuffed animals combined, and much better looking than the thing in her arms now and this particular regeneration wasn’t even very attractive. Even the version of him that wore that abomination of a coat was better looking, and that was saying something.
He was distracted from his thoughts when Rose stood on her tiptoes to give the besotted boy a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” She beamed.
“My pleasure,” he responded, sappily, and the Doctor decided enough was enough.
“Right, time to go. Say goodbye to boyfriend number four, six, eight, whatever, and leave.” He stomped away, grumbling quietly to himself. “Stupid name, Herman. Sounds like a bookworm at a library. Or an accountant. Rose is too adventurous for an accountant.”
Who is she adventurous enough for, then? One of his past selves muttered.
Mind your own matters, he grumbled back to it. Pesky voices, they never knew when to leave very well alone. Just because he was the current model didn’t mean they could lend their own opinion, thank you very much.
“I’m naming him Longfellow,” Rose chirped happily as she trailed behind him (he wondered if Herman the accountant was following her). “You know, after that poet? Its ‘cause elephants are smart, and the long nose helps, too. What do you think?”
The Doctor was thinking a lot of things, but first and foremost was how he never gave Rose Tyler enough credit. This young woman was so very intelligent, but she never had faith in her abilities. He had been reading Longfellow last month in the library before Rose had dozed off, and had read to her one of his shorter poems to help her sleep. She had clearly remembered his name, if not the poem, and he looked over his shoulder to grin at her (and to see if Herman the accountant was still there).
“Sure he would appreciate that thing being named after him?” He asked, since he never could be completely honest with her. His smile grew when he saw that her newest acquisition had been left behind.
Rose laughed. “I think he’d be flattered, knowing that his poems were still being read so far in the future.”
“That he might,” he replied, before fishing around for his key. The TARDIS hummed happily as they walked in, a note of interest in Her Song as She noticed the object Rose was toting.
Not my idea, he told Her in disgust, then turned to Rose. “What you want for dinner? There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“’m fine, thanks. Herman bought a, what did he call it? Funnel cake earlier. That pretty much filled me up.” She snuggled the giant elephant, then wandered off to her room.
The Doctor sat on the bench and glared at the wall.
It’s your own fault, getting caught up with that gypsy woman, Five sniffed at him. No wonder she finds all those… others.
She was a Heionite; you know I couldn’t leave her alone without setting down precautions. Her telepathic powers were bleeding all over the place, He grumped back.
At this point, Seven chimed in. Which took all of two minutes.
You lot have been asexual for centuries, even with Romana, and all of the sudden you start harping me over missing out on a date? He retaliated. What, trying to make up for lost time through me?
They were silent, which was an answer in and of itself. He knew what they were thinking, though; he wasn’t getting any younger, and Rose had saved him; saved him, understood him, balanced him out.
Sighing, he draped his jacket over the jump seat and rolled up his sleeves. The TARDIS needed some of Her wires replaced, and brooding wouldn’t help matters.
With any luck, he thought, as he lifted up the grating and crawled under the console, that stupid elephant will soon be forgotten.
~*~
It wasn’t forgotten.
Rose took to lugging the thing everywhere with her, like a child with a security blanket. She curled up with it while watching a movie, used it as a pillow whenever she was sprawled out across the floor reading (she never used the sofas or chairs, a habit he found adorable if not slightly annoying whenever he almost tripped over her), dragging it behind her when she stumbled, sleepy and rumpled, into the kitchen for her morning boost of tea and sugary cereal. She even brought it with her to the console room, hugging it to her as she sat in the jump seat while he tinkered. She didn’t go so far as to bring it with her planet-side, thankfully, but the Doctor was getting tired of seeing it on the ship.
“What could you possibly see in that thing anyway?” He grumbled one afternoon as he was being forced to watch yet another Eastenders marathon.
Rose grinned as she snuggled with the elephant, and not him. “He’s big and warm and squishy. And Longfellow’s cute, in a ‘could-he-possibly-have-more-hearts’ sort of way.”
I have two hearts, he thought. Is that not enough or something?
On the sly, he counted the number on the elephant- five, from what he could see, one in each ear and some along the body- and wilted slightly. Then he scowled at himself. He was jealous over some stupid fuzzy stuffed elephant?
We’re a goner, Five lamented.
Go away, he snapped back.
~*~
It ended in the most unexpected way.
The Doctor found he could grow used to the elephant in the room. Yes, Rose no longer cuddled with him on the sofa whenever they had the television on, but she still talked to him, and the elephant was more of an accessory than a playmate. They still bantered and argued and made fun of each other as best friends were wont to do, but then came Atlantis.
Rose had wanted a beach, and Atlantis was famous for their pink sand and bright blue waters. Rose had been delighted, and changed into that bikini that drove him wild (not that he showed it). She even managed to talk him out of his leather jacket for a time, but after him checking to make sure it was still lying on the towel every two seconds or so, she gave up and ran off to play in the water without him. The Doctor had made sure to land during the ‘dead season’ for the tourist industry, so there were only a handful of people scattered about the beach and they could enjoy the sunshine and water in relative privacy. Rose grouped up with a girl her own age, and they tried teaching each other how to surf, shrieking and giggling every time they surfaced from being knocked over.
The Doctor, meanwhile, was busy building a sandcastle, sculpting an almost-perfect replica of the Citadel of the Time Lords, taking up nearly a five-foot square of sand as he did so. Several children of various alien races had gathered around to stare in awe as he worked, even volunteering to fetch buckets of sand and salt water, so that by the time Rose came out of the ocean, soaking wet and breathless from laughter, he had a nice little system of children running to and fro getting things he needed.
“Impressive,” She commented as she flopped down on the towel, sighing in relief. “What are you building?”
“Time Lord Citadel,” he said, quietly, reluctantly; Rose gasped softly. “You there, with the green hair; I need a bucket of wet sand.”
“Coming!” The child shouted, and ran off with his friend down to the water.
Rose watched in silence as the Doctor coaxed the sand into impressive and gravity-defying structures, impossible arches and curves sculpted with an artist’s hand and a man’s loving memory. By the time the sun was ready to set his task was accomplished, and the crowd he had attracted burst into applause.
“’s lovely,” Rose murmured, leaning over his shoulder, one hand resting against it for balance. “That where you lived?”
“It was my home, for a while,” He replied, and his eyes grew suspiciously wet. “I wanted you to see it, even if it’s made out of pink sand and saltwater.”
Her hand tightened slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
They passed a moment in silence, before he stood up and started walking towards the TARDIS. “Right, getting late. We should get going. Grab the towels, would you?”
By the time Rose finally got back to the TARDIS, he was already ensconced under the console, stripping wires with a vengeance and muttering darkly to himself. Rose hovered uncertainly on the ramp. “We leaving?” she asked.
He crawled out, avoiding her eyes as he started the dematerialization. “Gonna take a day or two in the Vortex. Some wiring needs to be replaced, and there’s a clog in one of Her fluid relays. Shouldn’t take too long, but the wiring is tricky business, and I’ll need to make sure I got everything connected right.”
“Ok. ‘M gonna go shower, and bring back tea, yeah?”
“Sounds good.” He was already heading into the hallways, searching for some new wires.
When Rose returned two hours later, hair damp and dressed in comfy flannel pajamas, toting a tea tray with his favorite kind of biscuits but which Rose hated, the Doctor noticed that for once, the elephant wasn’t with her.
“Where’s Longfellow?” he asked, leaning against the console. There was a smear of grease on his forehead and his hands were dirty, but Rose didn’t chastise him as he grabbed one of the biscuits. Instead, she smiled shyly and shuffled her feet, blushing slightly.
“I’m a bit old for stuffed animals, don’t you think?” She said. “Yeah, it was nice when that boy got him for me, but ‘s just a toy. There’s more important things to cherish than that silly thing.”
He was silent, watching her curiously. What did she mean?
Rose took a deep breath, and then met his gaze. “Can you tell me more about your world? I may not be able to see it, but… but you don’t have to be the only one to remember it, either.”
Stunned, the Doctor stared at her, half-eaten biscuit forgotten in his hand. “You… want to know about Gallifrey?” he asked.
“Is that what it’s called?” At his tiny nod, Rose smiled. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“It was a beautiful world.” He replied, voice distant. None of his companions had asked about his home before. They had either been there themselves, or simply assumed it looked like Earth because he looked human. Sure, before the War he had mentioned bits and pieces here and there- mostly complaining about the rigid social order- but no one had ever thought to ask. To think Rose was doing so now… he waited for the deep-seated guilt, the onslaught of tears, but instead found himself wanting to tell her. Even his past selves were silent at this admission, reeling in shock at her honest curiosity.
Gallifrey had haunted him for so long, even before he had lost it. The home that had never truly been his home, simply a place he was dragged back to time and again against his will or because he had to, never because he simply felt the desire to visit. It was a constant shadow in his life, looming just around the corner, his chain and burden and yet the only place he ever truly loved. He had hated the rules and restrictions and pomposity of his people, yet the world itself as a whole was more brilliant than any star. The buildings moved and curved with the land, stylized after symbols of nature and decorated with them; his language sang like the music of the universe, more complex than any other species could handle, yet anyone could feel the bone-deep meaning just by listening, even if they truly didn’t understand. Time flowed through the land like wind, smelling of possibilities and beginnings and endings and every turn in between, thrumming through his veins and mind and singing to his very soul. Even in the noisiest of places he could always hear Time’s subtle singing.
For all the corruption and darkness that had so infused the Time Lords by the end of everything, the world itself always remained pure, timeless, revered and worshipped. He missed his people, missed the cacophony at the back of his mind, the reminder that he always had a place to return to should he ever needed it, but it was the song of Time and feeling Gallifrey sing with it that he missed the most.
To protect himself, he had shoved Gallifrey to the darkest, deepest part of his mind, avoiding any mention, any thought, any concept of his lost home. And yet in doing so it had only grown in his power over him. All it had taken was one tiny, special, pink and yellow human with the stars in her eyes and the universe in her heart to break that hold over him. Gallifrey wouldn’t be forgotten; wouldn’t be restricted to just his mind, his memories, not any more.
“Let me show you something,” he said, and held out his hand.
As he led her to a locked room deep in the bowels of his ship, containing all that remained of his world, the TARDIS sighed and sang a Song of remembrance and acceptance. Maybe, without the burden of the past fully on his shoulders, Her Doctor could finally begin to move on. She sang him a Song of peace, and whispered a melody of future and love into his companion’s mind. The TARDIS could see all things, past future and present, and though even She didn’t know what the outcome would bring, She knew that from now on, Her Doctor and Her Rose would face it together as one.