Fic - Under a Patchwork Sky - (2/?) - Nine/Rose - PG13
Date Published: August 24th, 2008
Title: Under a Patchwork Sky
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jackie, affectionate mentions of Adam (thus far)
Genre(s): Action/adventure, romance, fluff
Word Count: This part: 4,050
Summary: In which both the Doctor and Rose learn that things are not always as they seem.
Disclaimer: The names, images and logos identifying the BBC and their products and services are subject to copyright, design rights and trade marks of the BBC. Used without permission for non-profit, non-commercial personal use.
Fic Type: Multi-Chaptered. WIP.
Author's Note: To put it bluntly, I wanted fluff and I missed Nine. But due to me writing compliantly with canon, how the relationship is shown on screen is (hopefully) how it's shown in my writing. I refuse to push them further than intense looks and lots of hand-holding.
Excerpt: Their eyes met and, in that second, Rose felt something almost disturbing ripple through her body.
Under a Patchwork Sky
II. The Time Traveller
“Adventure is just bad planning.”
Roald Amundsen (1872 - 1928)
--
They landed with less of a bump than usual, and this time Rose managed to stay on her feet. She threw the last few items into her bag (a warm jumper and an extra pair of running shoes because, really, when you travel with the Doctor you can never be sure) then bounced happily back down the corridor. The Doctor was waiting for her in the console room, and he wore that smug expression he always wore when he was introducing her to someplace he knew she would like.
She paused in the doorway.
“Ready?” asked the Doctor, a twinkle in his eye, and Rose nodded with a grin. She was more than ready. The way the Doctor had been enticing her into this place made her not want to wait another minute, so she made sure she was first out of the door.
She stepped out into glorious sunshine, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes.
“Oh,” the Doctor said from her side as the TARDIS door closed behind them.
Shifting the weight from her packed bag, she turned to him. “What?”
“So much for the out-of-the-way alley we were supposed to park in.”
They had walked out onto crisp green grass, certainly nothing like a dingy alleyway in a run-down town that Rose might have expected to see. Colourful lawns stretched out in all directions, and a couple of hundred metres up the gently sloping hill, there was the grandest mansion Rose had ever seen. Where they were, she could only guess, was some sort of exquisite garden. A fountain trickled gently not far away and haphazard trees stared down at them all across the lawns. A gravel path, just ahead of them, led up to the house and also broke off into forks in all directions. The house itself was settled in amongst a collection of hedgerows, the privet leaves gleaming bright emerald in the shocking sunshine.
Something almost alien sounding called to them and, looking over, Rose saw a peacock pecking absently around the grass.
She breathed a sigh of admiration. “This is...” she started, but didn’t have the words.
The Doctor grinned at her. “Thought you’d like it.”
“Where are we?”
“That, up there,” he nodded his head in the direction of the house, “is the Lamberth family estate. Madley Court. Recently converted into a hotel for visitors, although the family live there as well. Comes complete with butlers, housekeepers, cooks, gardeners... everything, really. The town’s a little way down the road.”
“And this - this is where we’re staying?” Rose asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. She had imagined maybe an exotic planet, or s strange visit to an ‘old friend’, or simply something alien that she may not have understood. But this, she definitely understood. It was a swanky hotel, what more needed saying? She didn’t even care why they were here.
“For the moment,” replied the Doctor with a cheery grin, and he turned to Rose with a mischievous look. “Want to go check in?”
“You betcha.” She grinned back at him. Then, without warning, shoved her bag into his hands. “And I think you can carry that, seeing as you’re acting like the gentleman.”
“I am?” he asked, seemingly confused but taking the bag in any case.
“Well, if you’re paying for me to stay here, definitely makes you a gentleman in my eyes.”
Their footsteps crunched loudly on the gravel as they walked, the summer wind blowing happily around them. Rose could tell it was summer by the bloom on the trees and the way the air danced fresh and clean around her. She loved the alien planets the Doctor took her to, and loved all the trouble they caused and the excitement that came with it. But she also couldn’t deny the fact she really loved the Doctor showing her parts of her own world that she didn’t even know existed. The thought was quite exhilarating.
“So, when are we?” she asked, careful to make note about everything she could and couldn’t say. Being a time traveller, you had to be careful about these things. No point in making a comment about a song you love if the song hasn’t been released yet.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor check his watching, and she smiled to herself.
“About... twenty-ten,” he came to, then looked up at the large house as it drew nearer. “Quite close for you.”
“God, that is,” Rose agreed, thinking hard about the way time worked and making her head hurt. “I wonder if there’s another me running around?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, like... I dunno.” She screwed up her face slightly, thinking. “ Like a version of me who never went with you.”
The Doctor frowned. “But you did come with me,” he pointed out, perhaps rather needlessly.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know, but what if I hadn’t? If I hop into my own future I could still be in London, working at Henrik’s. Still with Mickey, even.” She could feel his eyes on her, and when she looked at him, he found the Doctor giving her a very strange look. “What?”
“Just - nothing,” he said, and looked away.
“Doctor?”
“It’s nothing. I just thought... oh, never mind. We’re nearly there.”
Rose looked ahead, and sure enough, the great house was only a few more metres away.
‘House’ was actually a poor word to describe this building. As they got closer Rose could see the grand marble pillars framing the front door, and she couldn’t have counted the windows in the front of the house. It was at least three floors high and she to crane her neck to look up at the very top, where statues of angels and even a weathervane lay guarding the teal slated roof.
“It’s pretty big,” she said in awe, wondering just how long it would probably take to explore it.
“It’s one of the oldest buildings in the country,” the Doctor replied, pausing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the entrance. “I haven’t been here in a long time,” he added wistfully.
She glanced at him, surprised. “You’ve been here before?”
“Once or twice. I helped the family out a few centuries ago, both in my time and theirs. They had a bit of trouble with ghosts.”
Rose froze. “Ghosts?” she asked, and gulped.
The Doctor looked at her and chuckled. “Not real ghosts, you daft ape. There’s no such thing as ghosts. They did give residence to a few gaseous beings, though, who enjoyed playing tricks on the villagers. Bit like the Gelth, I s’pose, but less with the megalomania and more with plain boredom. Family was considered cursed. ‘Til I turned up, of course, and booted them - the aliens, not the family - back to their home planet.”
“Not smug about that at all, then,” Rose teased.
“Nope,” he returned with a large grin. “Figure they owe me a favour, though, so here’s hoping they let us stay.”
“Here’s hoping,” Rose echoed dimly, looking up at the large mansion again. “To be honest, I’m not surprised they had ghosts,” she said wistfully. “Looks a bit creepy if you stare at it for too long.”
The Doctor just laughed. “Come on, you. We’ve go a holiday to start.”
“Wait, hang on - a holiday?”
“Yup.” He started up the first step.
“No, like, a proper holiday? No aliens or monsters or hidden plans?”
“I hope not. Now, stop dawdling, check-in time will close soon.”
She followed him into the main entrance of the building, a new kind of excitement blossoming. She’d thought this would be just like any other visit somewhere. The Doctor would show off his amazing skills, or take her somewhere he really thought she would enjoy. Classic moments in history, that’s what the Doctor did. Not week-long holidays in posh looking hotels from places that owed him a favour.
He dropped her bag just in front of the reservation desk and smiled cheerily at the receptionist, the way he always did when he wanted something. Rose stood beside him, trying not to smirk.
“Hello,” he said good-naturedly while the receptionist scribbled busily into a very large notebook.
“Sir,” came the reply in a very well-spoken voice. The receptionist looked up, eyeing Rose and the Doctor warily as though they were something he’d rather not step in. Obviously, Rose thought, this hotel wasn’t used to any old commoner wandering in and wanting a room. Not that she and the Doctor were commoners, far from it, but she knew exactly how the stiff little man saw them both. She used to get it a lot in her old job.
“We’ve come to stay!” the Doctor almost sing-songed back. “Haven’t we, Rose?”
“Yeah.”
The receptionist, whose name read ‘Roland’, sniffed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “And do sir and madam have a reservation?”
“Well, don’t be daft. Course we don’t,” the Doctor said, looking at Roland as though he’d just dribbled on his shirt. “That’s why we need you to book us in.”
“I’m sorry, sir. If you haven’t booked in advance then we cannot let you into a room, I’m sorry. And even if we could - ” he paused and leant over the desk, considering the conspicuously large bag of Rose’s items “ - all of our rooms are full.”
“Oh.” The Doctor’s expression was deflated, and he turned to Rose with a mock pout. She found it very difficult not to laugh; she always enjoyed it when he wound people up. “Did you hear that, Rose? This lovely man says they’re all booked up. Nevermind, I suppose we’ll just have to go and spend our masses of money elsewhere. Unless...” He looked slyly back to the receptionist, “he would care to reconsider.”
Roland sat up, his back straight and tense. “I’m sorry sir, but rules are rules.” Even if you don’t look like a man who follows the rules, said the silent words hanging off the end of the sentence, and the Doctor’s eyebrows rose.
“Ok. Well, just to be polite, are any of the Lamberths in the house?”
Roland sniffed again, then started shuffling some files. “I can’t tell you that, sir.”
“Oh, come on,” the Doctor encouraged conspiratorially, leaning over the desk.
“Sir, please do not lean on the counter!” Roland squeaked, then pointed to a sign that said just that.
The Doctor sighed, standing back. “Well, look, if any of them are here - and I’m not saying they are, I’m saying ‘if’ - you’d best run along and tell them their old friend the Doctor has come for a visit.”
The receptionist frowned suspiciously. “Nobody is sick, we have no need for a doctor.”
“Aha!” He slapped his hands together, grinning. “So they are here. Thought so. Now, run along and tell them I’m here. Rose and I can wait.”
Roland blinked back at them. “Sir, if you don’t leave this minute, I will have to call security.”
“Oh, like I don’t here that every day,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “Just go and tell them. And then, honestly, if they don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ll throw myself out of here, and Rose too.”
The Doctor and Roland locked eyes and, eventually, Roland looked away. Rose smiled.
“You wouldn’t want to make this poor girl sleep outside, would you?” he added, patting Rose’s forearm and earning a peevish glare from her. “We’ve come an awfully long way.”
“If it will get you to leave me alone, sir, then fine. But would you kindly wait outside? Thank you.”
Roland stood up from his desk, positively glaring at the Doctor.
“And if I get fired for this,” he added testily, “you can rest assured you will be getting a law suit.”
“That’s nice,” countered the Doctor sarcastically, turning back towards the door where a slice of the outside peered back at him and Rose.
They waited outside patiently, the sunlight warm on Rose’s skin.
“Do you really know these people?” she asked casually, staring around the lawns again.
He turned to her, a face that said he was shocked and insulted, but eyes that said he was simply amused. “Of course I do,” he replied indignantly, examining his fingernails. “I don’t know why you’d think otherwise.”
Rose leant against one of the large, marble pillars, grinning at him. He really was a fascinating man, was the Doctor. Just when she thought he had him a little bit sussed out, he threw something new at her that she just couldn’t fathom. This hotel holiday was a good example.
They waited for about ten minutes, chatting idly in the lazy sunshine. Eventually they were joined by Roland, who stood in the doorway between and cleared his throat. The Doctor, who was in the middle of a tale of a giant squid and... something else Rose didn’t quite catch, ignore him.
“So I turn around, and there’s this huge tentacle coming at me from nowhere. I’m wondering what do I do, do I duck and try to run away or do I try to reason with the thing. I’m betting reasoning is probably the safer option, in the long run, so I say - ”
“Ahem,” Roland interrupts loudly.
“’Scuse me,” the Doctor says to Rose, then turns to the squat little man. “I think you’ll find Rose and I are in the middle of a conversation. It’s rude to interrupt. I would have thought a man of your calibre would know that.”
Roland fixed him with an icy glare, and his mouth smiled almost cruelly. “Sir, I have been told that here is no use for a doctor at Madley Court. It is just as I said - no one is sick.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake,” the Doctor snapped, and even Rose sighed with mild irritation. “Look, I’m not ‘a’ doctor, I’m ‘the’ Doctor. The - Doctor. It’s not hard. I was here a few years ago, they’ll remember me, I’m sure. You just have to be specific.”
“I’m sorry sir, but I won’t - ”
“Doctor?”
Rose turned, surprised at the voice, and peered in through the great double doors to a woman, clad in a lacy white dress, standing at the bottom of the stairs. She was one of the most beautiful women Rose had ever seen. Her skin looked white and pure, like china, but she had swirling dark hair and even darker eyes. She looked hesitant, nervous, as though she were expecting to be threatened with a knife at any minute.
“That’s me,” said the Doctor, and he pushed easily past Roland as though he weren’t even there. Rose followed, very tempted to make a face at the balding, middle-aged man; but she decided to rise above it, for decency’s sake if nothing else.
“Are you - are you here to visit one of the guests?” the woman asked nervously, and she glanced over to Roland, who was silhouetted in the doorway and, Rose noticed, trying to look like he wasn’t Very Annoyed Indeed.
“Technically,” the Doctor replied with a smile, and an extra layer to his voice that Rose had rarely heard before. She turned back with interest, noticing for the first time the way the Doctor’s attention was totally fixed on the woman standing by the stairs. He’d stopped a few metres away from her, as though scared of getting too close. But she knew the Doctor, to a certain extent, and his body language was practically yelling that this woman was very important to him.
Rose refused to listen to the irrational spike of jealousy that stabbed through her, but it was very difficult to ignore it completely.
“Are you...?” the woman asked, but trailed off, looking slightly uncomfortable and, for some reason, glancing to Rose.
Their eyes met and, in that second, Rose felt something almost disturbing ripple through her body. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t like her.
“I am,” was all the Doctor said, and he suddenly seemed to relax. “I assume you got the message, then.”
She smiled. “Yes. Roland said something about a doctor and at first I had no idea what he was talking about... but then I wondered, and I thought, maybe, after all these years, you had come back.”
“And I did.”
Rose felt very much like a third wheel, and wondered briefly if she should just go and stand by Roland at the door. It was about as useful as she felt right now.
“Roland,” the woman commanded, lifting her head. “You can return to your duties. The Doctor and...” She looked pointedly at Rose.
“Rose,” she supplied, when the Doctor evidently wasn’t going to.
“The Doctor and Rose will be staying in our private quarters. Please escort their luggage to the second guest bedroom.”
Rose was sure she heard a groan come from Roland’s direction, but she was far too focused on the Doctor to really notice.
Roland disappeared quickly, presumably to a further part of the house that led upstairs, leaving Rose, the Doctor, and the surprise women to themselves. It was only then that the Doctor ascended the stairs, approaching her with - judging from his voice - a very large grin.
“Catherine,” he said warmly, and - to Rose’s complete astonishment - he took her hands.
“Isabel, actually,” said the woman, teasing in her voice as though she’d known the Doctor for years. “Catherine was my great-grandmother. Although, I gather you knew her rather well.”
“Ah.” The Doctor cleared his throat, and Rose got the distinct impression it was one of the few occasions he was caught embarrassed. He slowly lowered Isabel’s hands, before releasing them and - finally - turning back to look at Rose. He smiled broadly; she didn’t.
“This is Rose,” he explained to Isabel, trotting back down the stairs to Rose’s side. “She’s my friend.”
Oh, great, Rose thought.
Isabel nodded. “So I see.”
“I thought I’d bring her here for a bit of well deserved rest and relaxation,” he continued, turning and grinning at Rose. She forced a weak smile out at him, but inwardly, she was positively seething.
“I’m sorry if Roland seemed in any way curt with you,” Isabel, said, descending the rest of the stairway and trailing her hand down the banister. “We have been known to get people wandering in, and the poor man has learned to turn away anyone who doesn’t have a paid reservation. We don’t even get visitors any more,” she added sadly.
“Well, you have me,” replied the Doctor, and Rose felt that stab of jealousy once again. She would never have believed he could be so insensitive.
“I do. We have a lot to talk about. You haven’t visited our family in a very long time.”
“Well, you know,” he joked, “nothing to stop me from popping back to an earlier time. Have to be careful about timelines and all that, but...”
He smiled up at Isabel, who smiled back.
“Yes,” she confirmed, in the voice of someone who knew a lot more about the Doctor’s life than Rose ever would. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a rather bad time, however - although, as I understand it, timing was never your strong point, Doctor.” She smirked easily when he shifted from foot to the other. “My husband is away on business and isn’t due back until later in the week. But you are free to stay until whenever you like. The house is open to you.”
The Doctor nodded his thanks. “It’s appreciated.”
“I’ll have Roland show you to your rooms. And then perhaps, Doctor,” she paused, focusing on the Doctor like someone who was very aware there someone else in the room. “...Perhaps you and I could have a chat. It has been ever so long.”
From the corner of her eye, Rose caught the Doctor frowning. “If you want,” he said casually.
“Splendid. I will send someone to you in about half an hour. Will that be suitable?”
“Er, yeah,” he answered quickly, and Rose realised his nerves were getting the better of him. She subtly reached for his hand, brushing her fingers against his, and he made to grip them. “Perfect.”
“Roland,” Isabel called again, and like magic he appeared from behind a door at the other end of the hall. “Show the Doctor and Rose to their quarters. Then get back to your desk.”
He nodded, and Rose got the distinct impression he absolutely hated the woman to bits. She couldn’t blame him.
They were quickly shuffled out of the grand hall and into another room, with a large banquet table and a flight of stairs that led to a balcony higher up. The Doctor and Rose walked hand in hand, neither of them saying anything.
Roland took a key from one of about two hundred he must have had on a keychain, and unlocked a door down a corridor a few rooms away.
“It’s a twin room,” he said blandly. “If you need anything, simply ring the bell. A servant will be with you shortly.”
Servant? Rose mouthed to the Doctor, and he nodded discreetly.
“Well, isn’t this fantastic?” he asked when they were on their own, and he settled into a large sofa placed in the middle of the room. It faced towards a TV and what Rose could only assume was a drinks cabinet.
Rose hesitated, licking her lips. “She seems... nice,” she started, fiddling with her hands. “Your friend.”
The Doctor looked up, a happy, lazy expression on his face. “She’s not who I thought she was,” he explained, obviously all too happy to take a trip down memory lane. “She looks the spit of Catherine, though. Catherine was the woman I helped when I was last year. Seeing her in the flesh, so to speak... I forgot I’d jumped forwards a few hundred years. I thought it was still her.”
“I guessed,” Rose said in a clipped tone. She didn’t want to hang around for any more of the Doctor’s speech, so she made up an excuse. “I’m gonna go unpack. Might as well suss out the bedroom, I s’pose, if we’re going to be here for a while.”
“Good idea,” he agreed, either being obnoxiously stupid or literally having no clue about how women worked. “I thought we were only staying for a week, but who knows? Isabel seems to like us, so we may well stay a bit longer.”
“Great,” she said bitingly, stalking across the seating area to a pair of double, wooden doors. She slid them open, revealing a bedroom and, fortunately, her bag.
“Rose?” the Doctor said from behind her, for the first time concern in his voice.
“I’m gonna have a shower,” she stated blankly, not even sure there were showers, let alone if she had one. “You’ll probably be gone by the time I come out.”
“Are you all right?” She heard the rustle of fabric as he got to his feet, but she didn’t turn around to look at him.
“’M fine,” she semi-lied. “Just want a shower.”
With that she closed the doors, angry with the Doctor, but mostly with herself for acting like a petty, jealous teenager. Sighing with irritation, she rummaged angrily through her bag in search of shampoo, before she realised she hadn’t packed any.
“Great,” she said again, eyeing an open doorway in the bedroom which, she assume, led to a bathroom. The trip that started out so well in her mind had already taken a sour turn. The Doctor would be lucky if he made it through the week, because she couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t end up killing him.
“Prat,” she cursed to herself, and that made her feel slightly better.
One thing was for certain: she was absolutely not going to enjoy this trip at all, and after it was over, she was going to force the Doctor to come home with her and have shepherd’s pie with her mum and go out with all her friends.
Cringing at the insane childishness of her thoughts, Rose stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. When she came out, half an hour later, the Doctor had indeed gone.
End this Part
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| I | II |