Don't Blink - 34/?
Title: Don't Blink - 34/?
Characters: Ten, Rose
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
Author's Note: All I know about police procedurals in 1969 I learned by watching Life on Mars, so any errors are unintentional. :)
(ch 1) (ch 2) (ch 3) (ch 4) (ch 5) (ch 6) (ch 7) (ch 8) (ch 9) (ch 10) (ch 11) (ch 12) (ch 13) (ch 14) (ch 15) (ch 16) (ch 17) (ch 18)
(ch 19) (ch 20) (ch 21) (ch 22) (ch 23) (ch 24) (ch 25) (ch 26) (ch 27) (ch 28) (ch 29) (ch 30) (ch 31) (ch 32) (ch 33)
He could only stare at her, his mouth opening and closing without saying a word.
“What did you say?” he finally asked.
Rose shifted on the couch and leaned in closer. “Doctor. Kiss me.” She spoke slowly and clearly and he had a look of absolute shock on his face. Since he wasn’t going to move, and since they’d really, really waited long enough for this, Rose moved in toward him. A part of her cowered in fear that he would push her away, but he didn’t move at all. His eyes were fixed on hers, and he was absolutely still.
Well, she’d come this far. Rose gathered her courage and brushed her lips against his. He still didn’t react and she pulled away to get a good look at his face. She thought she knew where they’d been heading. Was she completely wrong? Was he still the master of mixed signals?
“Doctor, what-”
He moved before she could finish the sentence. His hands slid into her hair, sending pins flying everywhere and destroying the updo she’d left in place. His mouth found hers and he kissed her with an urgency Rose hadn’t known he felt. She made a small noise of surprise and he pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “Did I hurt you? You said you wanted...” His voice trailed off to nothing and he looked slightly confused.
It was good to know she wasn’t the only one unsure of what to do. She smiled slowly. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” She kissed him back with equal passion, wrapping her arms around his neck as he dragged her closer.
“Thank goodness,” he muttered.
“Mmm hmm,” she agreed, finally letting her fingers comb through his hair. She’d wanted to do that for ages and ages.
He kissed her like a desperate man, and she didn’t care at all. She felt just as desperate - how long had she wanted this? But finally Rose had to stop for breath, and she pulled away with a gasp, holding onto his arms.
He was watching her with an intensity that both thrilled her and made her nervous.
“You all right?”
She smiled, leaning against the cushions. “Oh, yes.”
“Are...we’re not finished, are we?” His voice held more than a note of uncertainty, and for the first time Rose sensed the power she held over him.
“I’m not. Are you?”
That made him grin and restored the look of mischief in his eye. “Oh, I’m definitely not finished.”
A moment later, though, the Doctor stopped. “Do you hear that?”
Rose blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus after being kissed senseless. “Do I hear what?”
“That noise.”
She frowned at him, a bit annoyed at having to stop when they were so clearly enjoying themselves. “It’s the TV.”
He frowned back at her, bracing himself up on one arm and listening hard. “No. No, it’s something else.”
She waited for a second but didn’t hear anything. “Doctor, I don’t really care about that right now.”
“You know what? I don’t either.” He grinned and kissed her once more. Rose happily responded, and this time his hands were at the hem of her shirt, about to touch her bare skin, when she pushed him away.
“Rose, what-”
“Damn it! I do hear something!” Flushed and out of breath, she glared at him as though it was his fault.
The Doctor fumbled for the sonic screwdriver to turn the TV off. It fell to the floor and with a soft curse he reached for a packet of chocolate biscuits. He lobbed the packet at the TV and hit the switch. The screen went black.
Rose giggled. “Nice aim.”
Together they listened into the silence, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Somewhere in the building someone was speaking very loudly. Running footsteps came and went, and a siren was heard in the distance.
“Should we go see what’s happening?” Rose asked softly.
“We could. Or we could stay here.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. The look of anticipation in Rose’s eyes mirrored his own. They’d been living a dull life for a while now.
Rose licked her lips. “Let’s go see.”
He grinned at her. Some things never changed. “Can I count on this happening again later?” he asked with an attempt at casualness.
“Absolutely,” she said firmly. “In fact, as soon as possible.”
He stood up and held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet.
“Come on.”
“Wait just a minute.” Rose pulled him down for one more kiss, and it nearly derailed his plans to find out what the commotion was.
“So we don’t forget later,” she said firmly.
He scooped up the sonic screwdriver and grabbed her hand.
“I’m not likely to forget. Get your shoes, Rose!”
He opened the door as Rose finished stepping into her trainers. Just as quickly as he opened it, he took a quick step back in surprise, almost treading on Rose’s foot.
“Watch it!” she warned. It was unlike him to be so clumsy, but she realized why when she saw the uniformed policeman standing there, his hand still raised as if to knock on their door.
“Hello,” the Doctor said in surprise. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Officer Clayton,” the man said. “We’re investigating a homicide in the building.”
Rose ducked under the Doctor’s arm to stand beside him. His arm moved from the door down to her waist, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her waist. Part of her was focused on this new potential mystery, and another part of her was wriggling with delight at the casual way his touch announced a new possessiveness.
“A homicide!” Rose repeated in shock.
“Murder,” he supplied.
Rose flushed. “I know what homicide means! I just can’t believe it happened here!”
“Do you have a suspect?” the Doctor asked.
“Can’t say yet, sir. But we’re asking all the tenants to remain in their flats for the moment.”
“So you don’t have a suspect yet,” the Doctor guessed.
The officer’s lips thinned. “We’ll let you know more as we can. Our people are investigating right now. Thanks for your cooperation. Please stay inside until we tell you otherwise.”
He was gone, and the Doctor closed the door behind him.
“What do you think?” Rose asked immediately.
The Doctor shook his head. “Sounds like a murder. A bit unusual, asking us to wait inside. Unless there’s a mad killer on the loose?”
“Not the strangest thing that’s happened to us lately,” she pointed out.
The telephone rang before he could reply. The Doctor stood where he was beside the door, arms folded across his chest. Part of him watched Rose walk to the telephone. Another part thought through what the officer had said.
“It’s Jeff,” Rose reported, her hand over the receiver. “He’s not happy about being under lockdown upstairs.”
Together they glanced at the ceiling, as if they could see what was happening.
“No, we don’t know, either,” Rose said into the telephone. “Ring back if you find out anything, yeah?”
There were heavy footsteps out in the hallway. Voices were raised and then silenced. Out in the street the sound of more sirens began, coming closer and closer.
The Doctor sighed. “And once again our plans are interrupted.”
Rose leaned against a table. It held a lamp and several of her fashion magazines. The lampshade was edged in tiny red and black beads, and they swung back and forth as she jostled the table.
“Seems to be the story of this year,” she said wryly.
He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, to see how far they could go. The policemen were no doubt over eager, and they would soon give the all-clear signal and go away. He took a step toward her and was halted by another knock on the door.
“It’s like a bloody train station,” he muttered, stalking to the door and yanking it open. Was the universe determined to conspire against him?
“Can I help you?” he demanded of the man standing there. Rose cleared her throat behind him. Probably a warning that he was being rude. He didn’t much care.
The man was not a uniformed officer. He held up a black leather wallet and showed the Doctor a badge.
“I’m DI Rogers. You’ve been told of the situation upstairs?”
“We have. A murder?”
“Yes. We’re interviewing all of the tenants of this building. May we come in?”
The Doctor’s hesitation was so brief that it was unnoticed. “Of course. Please, sit down.”
The DI motioned to someone out of sight. Another man stepped into view.
“My partner, DI Cutler.”
The two DIs sat on the aging, overstuffed armchairs in the corners of the room. Not for the first time, Rose winced at the sight of the yellow and orange floral slipcovers. They were awful, but not as awful as the original, fading fabric underneath. She and the Doctor perched on the edge of the sofa, sitting close together.
DI Cutler took out a small notebook and flipped it open, consulting something written inside.
“You are the Tylers?” he asked. “John and Rose?”
“Erm...” Rose shifted uncomfortably. Was her deception going to catch up with her? Cutler seemed to take her mumbling for an answer, because he put the notebook away.
“How can we help you?” The Doctor took Rose’s hand in hers, and she wondered at the slight tremor in his fingers.
“We’re speaking to everyone in the building,” DI Rogers said briskly. “We’re trying to ascertain if anyone saw or heard anything last night.”
“Like what?” Rose asked. “We see and hear a lot of things at night here. A lot of people live in the building.”
“This would be regarding the person who lives directly above your flat.”
“I don’t know who that is,” the Doctor said slowly. “Rose?” She seemed to know most of the people around them.
She didn’t this time. “I don’t know, either.”
“His name is Kevin Moore. Sound familiar?”
“No. Sorry.” Rose shrugged.
“You didn’t hear anything unusual coming from upstairs last night?”
“Not that I remember,” Rose said, thinking back to the previous night.
“Were you at home last night between midnight and five am?”
“Of course we were,” Rose replied.
“And what were you doing?”
“I was sleeping,” Rose said, as though that should be obvious.
“Of course. And you?” he continued, turning to the Doctor. “Were you sleeping with her?”
The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it again. Rose blushed, which the officers would probably ascribe to modesty. She knew it was because while a normal married couple might sleep together, in all aspects of the word, they were not the normal couple she was pretending that they were.
Thankfully, the Doctor neither attempted to correct him nor tried to launch into a long-winded description of the origins of the phrase.
“I have insomnia,” was all he said. “I don’t sleep much.”
“But were you in bed last night? With her?” Cutler nodded in Rose’s direction. She squirmed uncomfortably.
“I have insomnia,” the Doctor said again. “Not much use laying about in a bed if I don’t sleep. I do some work, instead.”
“What is your work?”
The Doctor paused for a moment. “I am a doctoral candidate at Cambridge.”
“Cambridge. Bit far from there, aren’t you?”
“We haven’t been in London very long,” the Doctor said shortly.
Rogers looked at Rose. “Can you verify that he was in the flat with you?”
“I was sleeping,” Rose said in confusion. “He’s usually here when I’m in bed. What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Mrs. Tyler. I’m just trying to get the facts down. Your neighbor was killed last night and it’s our job to find the killer.”
“How...how was he killed?”
“Beaten to death,” DI Cutler said shortly.
“Can anyone prove that you were here last night?” Rogers asked.
“Of course not,” the Doctor said, starting to get angry. “Rose was asleep. I don’t wake her up every time I decide to run out in the middle of the night.”
His words fell into a long silence.
The two DIs exchanged a look. The Doctor must not have been high on their priority list, because as one they nodded their agreement and stood up.
Rogers handed the Doctor a card. “My information is on that. We’ll be in touch. Ring if you think of anything that might help the investigation.”
“I’ll be glad to,” the Doctor said as he walked them to the door. As he opened it there were signs of a scuffle out in the hallway. A woman’s voice was raised in an angry cry. As he pulled the door open all the way Rose got a look at a woman in a dark red housecoat standing on the stairs, complaining loudly as two uniformed officers walked down the steps away from her. The woman followed them, still speaking angrily, but she stopped when she saw the DIs standing there with the Doctor and Rose.
Her expression suddenly changed, turning from angry to calculating. “That’s him!” she screeched, pointing at the Doctor. “I saw him do it! He’s the one who killed him!”
Thirty-five
Characters: Ten, Rose
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
Author's Note: All I know about police procedurals in 1969 I learned by watching Life on Mars, so any errors are unintentional. :)
(ch 1) (ch 2) (ch 3) (ch 4) (ch 5) (ch 6) (ch 7) (ch 8) (ch 9) (ch 10) (ch 11) (ch 12) (ch 13) (ch 14) (ch 15) (ch 16) (ch 17) (ch 18)
(ch 19) (ch 20) (ch 21) (ch 22) (ch 23) (ch 24) (ch 25) (ch 26) (ch 27) (ch 28) (ch 29) (ch 30) (ch 31) (ch 32) (ch 33)
He could only stare at her, his mouth opening and closing without saying a word.
“What did you say?” he finally asked.
Rose shifted on the couch and leaned in closer. “Doctor. Kiss me.” She spoke slowly and clearly and he had a look of absolute shock on his face. Since he wasn’t going to move, and since they’d really, really waited long enough for this, Rose moved in toward him. A part of her cowered in fear that he would push her away, but he didn’t move at all. His eyes were fixed on hers, and he was absolutely still.
Well, she’d come this far. Rose gathered her courage and brushed her lips against his. He still didn’t react and she pulled away to get a good look at his face. She thought she knew where they’d been heading. Was she completely wrong? Was he still the master of mixed signals?
“Doctor, what-”
He moved before she could finish the sentence. His hands slid into her hair, sending pins flying everywhere and destroying the updo she’d left in place. His mouth found hers and he kissed her with an urgency Rose hadn’t known he felt. She made a small noise of surprise and he pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “Did I hurt you? You said you wanted...” His voice trailed off to nothing and he looked slightly confused.
It was good to know she wasn’t the only one unsure of what to do. She smiled slowly. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” She kissed him back with equal passion, wrapping her arms around his neck as he dragged her closer.
“Thank goodness,” he muttered.
“Mmm hmm,” she agreed, finally letting her fingers comb through his hair. She’d wanted to do that for ages and ages.
He kissed her like a desperate man, and she didn’t care at all. She felt just as desperate - how long had she wanted this? But finally Rose had to stop for breath, and she pulled away with a gasp, holding onto his arms.
He was watching her with an intensity that both thrilled her and made her nervous.
“You all right?”
She smiled, leaning against the cushions. “Oh, yes.”
“Are...we’re not finished, are we?” His voice held more than a note of uncertainty, and for the first time Rose sensed the power she held over him.
“I’m not. Are you?”
That made him grin and restored the look of mischief in his eye. “Oh, I’m definitely not finished.”
A moment later, though, the Doctor stopped. “Do you hear that?”
Rose blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus after being kissed senseless. “Do I hear what?”
“That noise.”
She frowned at him, a bit annoyed at having to stop when they were so clearly enjoying themselves. “It’s the TV.”
He frowned back at her, bracing himself up on one arm and listening hard. “No. No, it’s something else.”
She waited for a second but didn’t hear anything. “Doctor, I don’t really care about that right now.”
“You know what? I don’t either.” He grinned and kissed her once more. Rose happily responded, and this time his hands were at the hem of her shirt, about to touch her bare skin, when she pushed him away.
“Rose, what-”
“Damn it! I do hear something!” Flushed and out of breath, she glared at him as though it was his fault.
The Doctor fumbled for the sonic screwdriver to turn the TV off. It fell to the floor and with a soft curse he reached for a packet of chocolate biscuits. He lobbed the packet at the TV and hit the switch. The screen went black.
Rose giggled. “Nice aim.”
Together they listened into the silence, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Somewhere in the building someone was speaking very loudly. Running footsteps came and went, and a siren was heard in the distance.
“Should we go see what’s happening?” Rose asked softly.
“We could. Or we could stay here.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. The look of anticipation in Rose’s eyes mirrored his own. They’d been living a dull life for a while now.
Rose licked her lips. “Let’s go see.”
He grinned at her. Some things never changed. “Can I count on this happening again later?” he asked with an attempt at casualness.
“Absolutely,” she said firmly. “In fact, as soon as possible.”
He stood up and held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet.
“Come on.”
“Wait just a minute.” Rose pulled him down for one more kiss, and it nearly derailed his plans to find out what the commotion was.
“So we don’t forget later,” she said firmly.
He scooped up the sonic screwdriver and grabbed her hand.
“I’m not likely to forget. Get your shoes, Rose!”
He opened the door as Rose finished stepping into her trainers. Just as quickly as he opened it, he took a quick step back in surprise, almost treading on Rose’s foot.
“Watch it!” she warned. It was unlike him to be so clumsy, but she realized why when she saw the uniformed policeman standing there, his hand still raised as if to knock on their door.
“Hello,” the Doctor said in surprise. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Officer Clayton,” the man said. “We’re investigating a homicide in the building.”
Rose ducked under the Doctor’s arm to stand beside him. His arm moved from the door down to her waist, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her waist. Part of her was focused on this new potential mystery, and another part of her was wriggling with delight at the casual way his touch announced a new possessiveness.
“A homicide!” Rose repeated in shock.
“Murder,” he supplied.
Rose flushed. “I know what homicide means! I just can’t believe it happened here!”
“Do you have a suspect?” the Doctor asked.
“Can’t say yet, sir. But we’re asking all the tenants to remain in their flats for the moment.”
“So you don’t have a suspect yet,” the Doctor guessed.
The officer’s lips thinned. “We’ll let you know more as we can. Our people are investigating right now. Thanks for your cooperation. Please stay inside until we tell you otherwise.”
He was gone, and the Doctor closed the door behind him.
“What do you think?” Rose asked immediately.
The Doctor shook his head. “Sounds like a murder. A bit unusual, asking us to wait inside. Unless there’s a mad killer on the loose?”
“Not the strangest thing that’s happened to us lately,” she pointed out.
The telephone rang before he could reply. The Doctor stood where he was beside the door, arms folded across his chest. Part of him watched Rose walk to the telephone. Another part thought through what the officer had said.
“It’s Jeff,” Rose reported, her hand over the receiver. “He’s not happy about being under lockdown upstairs.”
Together they glanced at the ceiling, as if they could see what was happening.
“No, we don’t know, either,” Rose said into the telephone. “Ring back if you find out anything, yeah?”
There were heavy footsteps out in the hallway. Voices were raised and then silenced. Out in the street the sound of more sirens began, coming closer and closer.
The Doctor sighed. “And once again our plans are interrupted.”
Rose leaned against a table. It held a lamp and several of her fashion magazines. The lampshade was edged in tiny red and black beads, and they swung back and forth as she jostled the table.
“Seems to be the story of this year,” she said wryly.
He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, to see how far they could go. The policemen were no doubt over eager, and they would soon give the all-clear signal and go away. He took a step toward her and was halted by another knock on the door.
“It’s like a bloody train station,” he muttered, stalking to the door and yanking it open. Was the universe determined to conspire against him?
“Can I help you?” he demanded of the man standing there. Rose cleared her throat behind him. Probably a warning that he was being rude. He didn’t much care.
The man was not a uniformed officer. He held up a black leather wallet and showed the Doctor a badge.
“I’m DI Rogers. You’ve been told of the situation upstairs?”
“We have. A murder?”
“Yes. We’re interviewing all of the tenants of this building. May we come in?”
The Doctor’s hesitation was so brief that it was unnoticed. “Of course. Please, sit down.”
The DI motioned to someone out of sight. Another man stepped into view.
“My partner, DI Cutler.”
The two DIs sat on the aging, overstuffed armchairs in the corners of the room. Not for the first time, Rose winced at the sight of the yellow and orange floral slipcovers. They were awful, but not as awful as the original, fading fabric underneath. She and the Doctor perched on the edge of the sofa, sitting close together.
DI Cutler took out a small notebook and flipped it open, consulting something written inside.
“You are the Tylers?” he asked. “John and Rose?”
“Erm...” Rose shifted uncomfortably. Was her deception going to catch up with her? Cutler seemed to take her mumbling for an answer, because he put the notebook away.
“How can we help you?” The Doctor took Rose’s hand in hers, and she wondered at the slight tremor in his fingers.
“We’re speaking to everyone in the building,” DI Rogers said briskly. “We’re trying to ascertain if anyone saw or heard anything last night.”
“Like what?” Rose asked. “We see and hear a lot of things at night here. A lot of people live in the building.”
“This would be regarding the person who lives directly above your flat.”
“I don’t know who that is,” the Doctor said slowly. “Rose?” She seemed to know most of the people around them.
She didn’t this time. “I don’t know, either.”
“His name is Kevin Moore. Sound familiar?”
“No. Sorry.” Rose shrugged.
“You didn’t hear anything unusual coming from upstairs last night?”
“Not that I remember,” Rose said, thinking back to the previous night.
“Were you at home last night between midnight and five am?”
“Of course we were,” Rose replied.
“And what were you doing?”
“I was sleeping,” Rose said, as though that should be obvious.
“Of course. And you?” he continued, turning to the Doctor. “Were you sleeping with her?”
The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it again. Rose blushed, which the officers would probably ascribe to modesty. She knew it was because while a normal married couple might sleep together, in all aspects of the word, they were not the normal couple she was pretending that they were.
Thankfully, the Doctor neither attempted to correct him nor tried to launch into a long-winded description of the origins of the phrase.
“I have insomnia,” was all he said. “I don’t sleep much.”
“But were you in bed last night? With her?” Cutler nodded in Rose’s direction. She squirmed uncomfortably.
“I have insomnia,” the Doctor said again. “Not much use laying about in a bed if I don’t sleep. I do some work, instead.”
“What is your work?”
The Doctor paused for a moment. “I am a doctoral candidate at Cambridge.”
“Cambridge. Bit far from there, aren’t you?”
“We haven’t been in London very long,” the Doctor said shortly.
Rogers looked at Rose. “Can you verify that he was in the flat with you?”
“I was sleeping,” Rose said in confusion. “He’s usually here when I’m in bed. What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Mrs. Tyler. I’m just trying to get the facts down. Your neighbor was killed last night and it’s our job to find the killer.”
“How...how was he killed?”
“Beaten to death,” DI Cutler said shortly.
“Can anyone prove that you were here last night?” Rogers asked.
“Of course not,” the Doctor said, starting to get angry. “Rose was asleep. I don’t wake her up every time I decide to run out in the middle of the night.”
His words fell into a long silence.
The two DIs exchanged a look. The Doctor must not have been high on their priority list, because as one they nodded their agreement and stood up.
Rogers handed the Doctor a card. “My information is on that. We’ll be in touch. Ring if you think of anything that might help the investigation.”
“I’ll be glad to,” the Doctor said as he walked them to the door. As he opened it there were signs of a scuffle out in the hallway. A woman’s voice was raised in an angry cry. As he pulled the door open all the way Rose got a look at a woman in a dark red housecoat standing on the stairs, complaining loudly as two uniformed officers walked down the steps away from her. The woman followed them, still speaking angrily, but she stopped when she saw the DIs standing there with the Doctor and Rose.
Her expression suddenly changed, turning from angry to calculating. “That’s him!” she screeched, pointing at the Doctor. “I saw him do it! He’s the one who killed him!”
Thirty-five