Fic: Close Encounters of the Invisible Kind, Part 7
Close Encounters of the Invisible Kind (part 7)
Author: Lilac Summers (lilsum4)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Charaters: Ten/Donna, Rose
Rating: PGish
A/N: So, here we are, over a year late! Sorry, but, happy 2016!
Part 6 here.
Life and haunting fall into a pattern for those aboard the TARDIS.
For Rose, this means traveling to unknown worlds/times and getting to know this new Doctor. He's different. In all good ways. He's younger and he laughs with her (not quite so much as at her like his previous version). He's so much more carefree and he seems to really see her. She loved him as he was before but, well, now he's flirting back, finally, and that's a great sign! And then there was that kiss on New Earth ... even if it was Cassandra leading everything, it must count for something! Everything would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that the TARDIS is haunted. That's just creepy, no matter what the Doctor or the TARDIS thinks.
For the Doctor, it means getting used to his new teeth. And his hair! Oh, he likes the hair; it gives Donna something to grab on to now that the ears are normal-sized. This face is better at hiding things, too. It's a useful skill. People focus on his looks and don't see what's really behind his eyes. It works on everyone, it seems, except Donna. But since Donna follows him like a shadow when he's in the TARDIS - his constant invisible companion - there's no use trying to fool her with a smile and a twinkle.
And for Donna, it means living vicariously through the Doctor's and Rose's adventures. Every day she waits breathlessly (literally) for them to return. He always acts delighted to spend time recounting their daring-do, always running into the TARDIS and shouting out "Don-na! You won't believe what just happened!"
That's Donna's cue to swoop in to grab his hair so he can hear her. She eggs him on by calling him a filthy liar and accusing him of exaggerating. All with sly undertones because she knows the Doctor will redouble his efforts to convince her that yes, the Face of Boe is a giant head in a jar! and then she says noooo, get out, really?! That's insane! Oh my gawd, tell me more. And he does, on and on, gleefully, until Rose rolls her eyes and leaves the console room because it's no fun listening to a one-sided conversation.
Donna is more content than she has been for a long time. To be acknowledged, to be able to chat and argue and shout and whine and laugh and be heard is such a novel concept that she rarely lets go of the Doctor. But, secretly, Donna fears the Doctor is bound to get tired of her pestering him. She tries her best not to patter on endlessly. Somewhere in the back of her mind she still hears her mother's voice, "How you go on so, Donna. Always so loud. No man likes a nag." It's stupid and silly and she knows it; after all, she's dead, there's really no point worrying about her mother's antiquated advice at this point.
Most importantly, the Doctor doesn't seem to mind her chatter. He never tells her to let go, is always open to answering her questions or recounting funny stories or waxing poetic about bananas or just whatever - god, he likes to talk as much as she does, more even!
Donna is such a constant presence that it gets to the point where Rose knows whether Donna is around or not by how wild the Doctor's hair looks at any given point. The messier it is means Donna is hanging on. Which is, like, all the time, Rose feels. It's like she never gets time alone with him in the TARDIS!
Rose finally questions him one day when his hair looks a bit more tamed, and takes a chance that Donna isn't around. "Isn't it weird, having her follow you everywhere? Always around?"
The Doctor pauses, a banana half-way to his mouth. "Who?" he questions, blinking at her.
"Donna," Rose says in a low voice, still managing to roll her eyes at the stupid question. "The ghost haunting us!"
The Doctor smiles benignly, choosing to ignore the eye roll. "Not really," shrugs the Doctor, tidily finishing his bite and tucking the peel into his pocket, for some unknown future reason. "It's not unlike being psychically linked with someone at most times. Donna's like a voice in my ear, like the TARDIS." He gets a strange, longing look on his face at that, making Rose think he actually enjoys never having a moment's peace. "We Time Lords all used to be connected like that, once."
His face clears and he gets back to the topic at hand. "But weird? Naaaah. I've been 'round the universe a few times. Seen heaps of weirder things."
"Yeah, but this is a, a dead person, following you around. It's not natural. You said the dead stay dead. That they need to stay dead," and there's a bit of accusation in her voice, redolent of watching her father die, which the Doctor chooses to ignore as well.
"Donna is...er, well...I don't quite know what Donna is, to be honest. And yes, the dead do indeed tend to stay that way, and even a Time Lord can't change that. So, usually I would say there are no such things as ghosts," he explains. "But I have no other definition for what she could be and yet, here Donna is, and quite chummy with the TARDIS too, who should know better."
Rose thinks that the Doctor should know better, too.
But the Doctor continues to smile at Rose, all charm and good cheer as he expounds. "And isn't that wonderful? It means she's special. In the whole wide universe that I know, never seen anything quite like Donna. And what are the odds that she would cross our path - out of all the billions of billions of people at any given time?! That's just plain lucky!"
"Lucky" isn't quite what Rose would call it. Creepy. Odd. Mood-killing, she stresses to herself as she watches the Doctor's hair suddenly spike up, ruffled by invisible hands. Her private time with the Doctor is officially over.
"What'd I miss?" asks Donna, done with her daily chore of inspecting Rose's room for new bottles of mascara. She had latched on to the Doctor's hair without a second thought, only belatedly realizing that Rose looks particularly serious and that she seems to have halted a private conversation.
"Errrr, am I interrupting something?" queries Donna.
"Nothing at all," denies the Doctor, and then he asks Rose where she'd like to go today, and the conversation is officially put to rest.
He doesn't fool Donna one bit, based on Rose's downcast eyes and furrowed brow. Had Rose finally come right out and proclaimed her crush?!
The other Doctor -- her big-eared Doctor (and boy, does she miss those ears, although the new hair kind of makes up for it)-- would have brusquely brushed Rose off. But now Donna observes curiously. Because the Doctor said preferences and personality could shift after a "regeneration". Where the Doctor she'd first met had treated Rose like an exotic pet - his attitude more than a bit superior, a bit dismissive, completely clueless - this version was hyper, irreverent, and much more touchy-feely than the last. This Doctor is flirty.
And Rose is absolutely flippin' delighted.
Donna wonders as she watches things develop. It's not impossible, after all. Rose is adorable, fun and easy, and genuinely head over heels with the Doctor in the way that only those in the throes of first love can be.
Thus Donna resolves to keep her opinions to herself...until she realizes that, oh god, the Doctor is actually, innocently just flirty. And still completely clueless. His hugs and smiles and compliments are no more serious than his previous grumbles and insults and sass. It's simply how he is. It means nothing, and Rose has no idea.
She still manages to hold back, though, until after a particularly aggravating evening of watching the Doctor obliviously push and pull at Rose, and watching Rose growing equally more infatuated/frustrated. Donna decides enough is enough, and it's time to step in and give the Doctor a clue.
She waits for a moment of privacy with the Doctor. Then makes the cardinal mistake, however, of saying, quite seriously, "Doctor, I have something very important to talk to you about."
He gets the oddest look of panic on his face at the idea of a serious conversation, and suddenly the Doctor is saying "Can't talk now, Donna!" when he's never, not once, said that before. He decides he wants to have another adventure. And shouldn't he and Rose watch a movie in the library? And Rose, let's go get take out. Oh, time for a spring cleaning, I absolutely need your help in the control room, Rose! Oh, Rose, do you really have to go sleep now - aww, that's too bad.
All this sudden constant attention exacerbates the problem of Rose's infatuation, but after a whirlwind day even Rose needs time to herself, to shower and nap after all the activity.
The Doctor announces he also needs a shower, and casts out a stern "Don't follow me, Donna, we have a deal!" before locking himself in his bathroom. Like a lock does anything against a ghost, silly man. And like she hasn't seen her share of penises. Even alien ones! But she promised, so she waits in his room and twiddles her thumbs, angry at herself over how badly she underestimated the Doctor's aversion to talking about his feelings.
He finally slinks out, diving into his bed with a loud "Oh, I should finally sleep, it's about that time!" and he resolutely closes his eyes and begins to snore.
Donna frowns and floats over his stupid lying face. She pokes the tip of his nose. "Doctor."
He snores louder.
"Doctor! I know you've been avoiding being alone to talk to me."
He turns over and buries his head in his pillow.
"You're a horrible faker. I know you can hear me!" she says again, pulling on his hair.
He pulls the covers over his head.
Donna rolls her eyes and allows herself to sink through the covers to snuggle next to him on the bed. She places a spectral hand on the back of his neck and breathes a chilly, creepy "Oooh, this is cozy, innit?" into his ear.
She trails her fingers up his neck in a very convincing impression of a spider wearing ice cubes for shoes.
The Doctor sits upright with a grumble, pushing the covers down. "All right, fine," he sighs, sounding defeated. "You win. Lay it on me."
Donna cackles in triumph before settling comfortably beside him, the wispy touch of her hand over his. "You're such a ninny. What're you so freaked out about, anyway?"
"I understand, Donna, it isn't going to hurt my feelings," he hugs his legs, resting his chin on his knees and looking for all the world like a big kid who's bravely about to give up his favorite teddy bear. "Always knew this day would come."
Donna cocks her head. Has he really been dreading hearing her opinion about this whole Rose mess so badly? "Well, jeez. It's not the end of the world! I mean, you just gotta let her down easy, if that's what you're gonna do. Or, you know, put out already if you really do mean all that flirting."
It's the Doctor's turn to look confused. "Wait, what? Flirting? Put out what for whom? What?"
"Errr," Donna looks around herself like she may have missed another teenage companion somehow. "Rose?"
"Rose!" exclaims the Doctor, eyebrows pinging upward in realization. "You want to talk to me about Rose!"
"Yeah, duh. Who else am I-"
"I thought you wanted to talk about you!"
Donna flies back, shocked. "WHAT!" she shrieks, before realizing he can't hear her anymore. She zooms back close, grabs his hair, screams in his face, "WHAT!"
He recoils at that. "Ow."
"Listen here, Spaceman. I don't know what kind of kinky stuff you Time Lords are into - and, okay, so maybe I started it when I sneaked into your shower - but I'm dead here, if you haven't realized it. Just because I can sorta touch you doesn't mean I'm going to be your invisible happy hands, and you better get your big-haired head out of that gutter if you know what's-"
"No! I-" and he's laughing now at her, the git! "Not like that! I thought you wanted to talk to me about you! Leaving the TARDIS!"
Donna chokes mid rant, feeling pain clench around a heart that hasn't beat in years. "Y-You want me gone? Did I do something wrong? But, where would I go? I don't have anywhere else to…" she stumbles over her panic. She lets go of his hair. She knew she'd been following him around too much, and that sooner or later he'd get sick of her. Her mother was right, as always.
The Doctor flings hands out about himself, trying to catch a hold of her before she drifts too far away. "No, Donna, come back," he urges. "Come on. Here." He puts out his hand, palm up, and Donna slowly floats back to lay one cautious fingertip on his palm. "Of course, I don't want you gone," assures the Doctor. "I thought you were ready to move on, and that's what you've been wanting to talk to me about."
"I," begins Donna, but shuts her mouth in dread, at finally admitting this to both the Doctor and herself. A gentle prod from the TARDIS has her marshalling courage to whisper to the Doctor, "Something went wrong. I don't think there's anywhere else for me. There's no white light, no 'other side' waiting for me. I'll just disappear."
The Doctor closes his hand over her fingers, almost as if he would hold her hand if he could. He can't, but Donna appreciates the gesture anyway.
"That can't be right. I've seen so many things Donna - so many wonderful, strange things - there must be a place where you belong. It doesn't just end in nothing for you."
What if the TARDIS is the final place where she belongs? Donna wonders. "But I can stay here, with you, until then? You won't kick me out?"
The Doctor smiles a blinding smile in her general direction, and she can't help but grin back. "'Course you can. As long as you like. Forever, if you wanted to."
If Donna were a soppy ghost, this would be where she would throw her arms around him and hug him as hard as she can, relieved tears dripping from her eyes.
Donna is not a soppy ghost, but since the Doctor can't feel her arms or see her tears, there's absolutely no one to say whether she does this or not, anyway.
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It's only later, after she and the Doctor have started a spirited discussion as to whether mousse or gel is a better choice for his hair - his apparent need for sleep forgotten - that Donna remembers what the whole point of their discussion was.
"Rose!" she exclaims suddenly. "We were supposed to talk about this problem you've got with Rose!"
The Doctor steps away from the vanity where he has 13 different types of hair products, and a jar of slime carefully extracted from the endangered giant snails of Ichoronimous-X.
"I have a problem with Rose?" he asks, distracted, turning his head back and forth to admire the spiked hairdo caused by the slime.
Donna claps both hands down hard over his head. The hair flattens. The Doctor frowns.
"Yes. You're a big flirt."
He scoffs at that, and tries to pull his hair back into place though her ghostly palms hold it down (and how does she do that? There's no weight to her! It baffles him.) "I'm not a flirt. I'm friendly!"
"You told her you imprinted on her like a duckling;I heard her going on about it!" she accuses.
"She's the first person I saw when I regenerated," he explains. "Can't help it, it's a regeneration side-effect." His brow furrows a bit as something niggles at his brain, deeply buried. Blue eyes with golden starbursts swim in his memory before fading. "'Least, I think she's the first person I saw. It's kind of all blurry. Anyway, what does that have to do with it?"
Donna huffs in frustration, pleased to see the air move enough to ruffle his hair. "For her, it's practically a declaration of love!"
He blinks at his reflection. "That's not what I meant at all!"
"Well, I know that, you plum. So what are you going to do about it?"
"Do I have to do anything about it?" he whines. "Things are working out lovely between us all. Why disturb anything?"
How like a bloke, Donna sighs. "You're leading her on with your smiles and the hand-holding and 'ooh, let me take you someplace special' stuff," she informs the Doctor. "On Earth, many construe that as flirting. Might not mean anything to you, but she's a bazillion years younger than you and doesn't know better. You've gotta clear things up. Or maybe you decide you do like her that way. Either way, clear the air or put out, 'coz the girl's gonna get carpal tunnel if you keep acting like you do."
The Doctor tries to work out the connection between unrequited love and repetitive motion injuries. He really does; he's a genius, he can figure it out.
Absolutely nothing comes to mind. "What does that have anything to do with anything?" he has to ask. "Rose doesn't type."
Donna breaks into loud guffaws. "Oh, bless! You're adorable."
"What? I don't get it!"
Donna dissolves into further hysterics.
"Donna!"
"Wa-wa-wanking!" she wheezes out. "I meant wanking. It's a miracle she hasn't broken something."
"Oh! Donna!" he shrieks, as scandalized as possible. He bats at the arm she's holding. "Stop it! No!"
"Doctor?" calls Rose tentatively from the other side of the door.
The Doctor pales, looking around him pleadingly as Donna hoots with glee.
Solid knocks fall on the door as Rose calls out again, and the Doctor facepalms before heading to the door.
"Oh, oh this is perfect!" Donna enthuses, hugging herself in glee, before following the Doctor. She hooks her chin over his shoulder, radiating amused curiosity at him.
He opens the door to a flush-faced Rose, who gives him a thorough once-over, from his striped-pajama trousers to his mismatched paisley jacket. Donna snorts in his ear.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't...I didn't know you were going to bed, too. But I couldn't sleep," she smiles winsomely, bright white teeth in a scrubbed clean face. "No matter what I tried!"
"Wanking. That means wanking again," helpfully supplies Donna to the Doctor.
He makes a sharp brushing off motion over his shoulder, which would have smartly clipped Donna on the nose if she had a body to speak of.
"Of course you can't sleep; not with the entirety of time and space out there waiting for us! In a mood for an adventure?" he offers.
Rose's smile widens. "Always!" and she offers her hand.
The Doctor takes it, resolutely.
Donna giggles, leaning in with a sly "I wouldn't touch that hand if I were you."
And absolutely can't stop laughing when the Doctor instinctively pulls his hand back and looks mortified.
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Mickey comes on board almost immediately after.
New guests on the TARDIS are always a welcome change for Donna, so she's really very excited.
"No, Donna! No peeking in on Mickey!"
"But he's cute!"
"He's a child!"
"He's older than her! She's a child!" cries Donna, indignant, pointing at Rose, and though the Doctor can't see her gesture there's only one person she can be talking about.
"And I don't peek at Rose in the shower! Just like you will not be spying on Mickey."
"It's completely different! You're ANCIENT"
"And you're dead."
"Oh, gonna throw that in my face now, are you. Everytime you lose an argument, it's going to be 'well, you're dead!'."
"I'm not losing this argument! I can't believe I'm even having this argument with y-"
"What is going on?" whispers Mickey to Rose, watching the Doctor lose his marbles and hold a conversation with no one. "And what's this about peeking at you in the shower?!"
"No, no. That's just Donna," sighs Rose, with a roll of her eyes. "C'mon, let's go to the galley. They'll be arguing for a while."
"Who's Donna?"
"Just the ghost."
"WHAT?"
Ultimately, it is generally agreed upon that Donna won't join Mickey in the shower. But whether or not she's allowed to peek at Mickey, he's a doll. Donna approves.
Donna makes it a point not to enter Rose's room anymore, not after floating in on an enlightening view of Rose and Mickey in bed. Though this means that she can't participate in her weekly mascara-cleaning ritual, the loss is overshadowed by knowing that at least she doesn't have to worry about Rose's wrist health anymore.
The Doctor, of course, will never admit that bringing Mickey along has anything to do with the conversation he and Donna had about Rose, but that doesn't stop Donna and the TARDIS from radiating smug "I told you so" vibes his way.
And so everyone wins, for a while.
go to Part 8