Who Fic - The Art of Being Human Prologue
The Art of Being Human - Prologue PG-13, Ten/Rose, John Smith/Rose
AU. It is the autumn of 1913 and Rose has found herself the wife of a man who doesn’t really exist. Between the fear that she may truly learn to love John and the ever present knowledge of his true identity, Rose is forced to re-evaluate both her life and loves. And all the while the Family of Blood draws nearer to their prey...
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Epilogue
Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth;
- A Midsummer Nights Dream
~*~
He was late.
Not that this should’ve come as any great surprise to Rose - John simply had no sense of time. Since they had arrived here just over two weeks ago she had gotten in the habit of getting up early so that she could take tea with him before his first class started. The only problem was that he was more often than not late, caught up in one thing or another whilst she was left waiting and wondering.
Today however the small clock on the mantelpiece was edging alarmingly close towards eight o’clock and Rose was getting decidedly anxious. She was supposed to be looking after him. Well, keeping an eye on him. Okay so really she was meant to be keeping him hidden from a bunch of vicious alien life forms of some kind that were trying to hunt him down but honestly, it sounded more than a bit pretentious not to mention plain bonkers when you put it like that.
The thing was, if he didn’t make it for their morning cup of tea then she wouldn’t get to see him until they supped together in the evening and that was far too long for him to be out of sight for her liking. Not that it was his fault - his teaching schedule was still so frantic that he often marked his student’s papers during lunch and then stayed up late at night to organise lesson plans.
Rose hadn’t much liked playing second banana to his new and rather unexpected teaching career, but after close to two weeks she had finally managed to settle herself into a routine that was somewhat satisfactory. It was merely an unfortunate fact that John didn’t seem to understand the importance of time management.
Much like somebody else she knew Rose thought grimly and rearranged the tea tray for the twentieth time, sighing loudly as she glanced up at the clock again.
He was forever running late or forgetting things altogether and Rose couldn’t help but worry about him. It was annoying, having to baby him like this. Smoothing down the fabric in her skirt compulsively, she had just decided to start brewing her own cup of tea whilst she waited for him when there came a light tapping at the door.
“Come in.” she called and a moment later John peeked around the edge of the door, the tassel on his hat swinging and a hesitant smile on his lips. Rose smiled and stood to greet him. “Hello.”
“Good morning.” he said leaving the door only very slightly ajar as he joined her, offering her a soft kiss in greeting which she accepted with hastily learned familiarity.
“Tea?” she offered, already knowing that he would accept.
“Oh yes please.” he said gratefully as he took the unoccupied chair across from her. “I’ll have to be quick though.” He warned. “No idle chatter this morning or I’ll be late for class I’m afraid.”
“No problems.” Rose said, adding two sugars to his cup and stirring it carefully before passing it to him. “Who’ve you got this morning?”
“Thank you. Oh just my usual rowdy Monday morning lot.” John sighed as he nursed his cup and saucer carefully. “I do wish that Master Hammond wouldn’t insist on interrupting. I loathe using the cane on him - blasted thing gives me blisters.”
Rose sipped her hot tea carefully and then rested it back on the saucer.
“Maybe you shouldn’t use it then?” she suggested and John chuckled.
“Unfortunately my dear the only thing that many of these boys respond to is a good strong rap across the knuckles.”
Rose shifted uncomfortably in her chair, an argument on the tip of her tongue but thankfully John saved her from having to bite back any inappropriate words she may or may not have been thinking about the subject of caning students by asking her what she was planning to do for the day.
“I’ll probably borrow Professor Ratcliff’s bicycle again.” she said dully, then lied. “Maybe go into the village. Depends if Matron wants any help or not. And how messy the library is.”
“Oh well a bicycle ride sounds lovely.” John said cheerfully over the rim of his cup. “It should be a nice day for it too - it looks quite pleasant out. Just mind you don’t lose your way like last week. You gave me quite a turn when you didn’t return in time for supper...”
“I didn’t get lost.” Rose said, affronted. “I just...lost track of time that’s all.”
“Ah, well that is certainly a feeling that I am all too familiar with I’m afraid.” John admitted with a bashful smile. “I must be imprinting my bad behaviours onto you. I do apologise.”
Rose smiled indulgently at his teasing. “Yeah somehow I doubt that. Out of you and me I’m the one with the bad mouth.”
John’s lips twitched. “Quite.”
For a while the only sound was that of the two of them sipping carefully at their tea in the pensive silence. Rose was just half-heartedly searching for something to say to him when...
“Oh!” he said suddenly, voice thick as he swallowed a particularly large gulp of tea. “I almost forgot to tell you. I had the most remarkable dream last night...”
Rose set her cup down as he spoke and was just settling in to listen resignedly to what would no doubt be a long and rambling recollection of some kind when she chanced a look at the clock on the mantel.
“Half past!” she gasped, interrupting the beginnings of his story. “You’re going to be late!”
John startled, glanced over his shoulder at the clock and then leapt to his feet, spilling his tea in his haste. “Oh!” he said, flustered. “I’m so sorry...”
“S’alright.” Rose quickly took the china out of his hands before he did something daft like go and drop it. “Go on, you go to class. I’ll take care of this.”
“So sorry...” John was muttering as he dithered on the spot, pulling out his pocket handkerchief and blotting at the mess he had made. “Goodness but I can be so clumsy...”
“S’fine.” Rose insisted, laughing at him even as she shepherded him gently but forcibly towards the door. “Really. S’just a bit of spilt tea John, nothing to cry over.”
John still looked upset so in order to placate him she leant up onto tiptoe and kissed him gently on the cheek.
“Go teach.” she told him firmly, putting both her hands firmly against his chest to accentuate her point. “Behave yourself yeah? And I’ll see you at supper tonight.”
Giving up on apologies for now and looking somewhat appeased and a little pink in the cheeks after her kiss, John straightened his mortarboard and drew his black teaching robes a little tighter around himself.
“I will. And enjoy your book shelving. And your bicycle ride.” he took her hand in his and Rose bit her lip, trying not to smile at what she knew was coming next. Pressing his lips briefly to the back of her hand he chanced a look up at her from beneath his brows.
The gesture combined with the tentative eye contact prompted a small series of flips from her stomach that Rose quickly tamped down with a vapid smile. He couldn’t help the fact that he looked so adorable when he kissed her hand - even if she thought it was old fashioned and more than a little bit corny.
“Mrs Smith.” He murmured against her skin.
“Mr Smith.” she returned primly and then retreated to her doorway to watch him stride down the hallway. His long tan coat had long since been replaced by black teaching robes but if she didn’t look too closely then she could almost believe that it hadn’t, that the Doctor was still here with her and...
Sighing to herself, Rose shut the door and turned her back on it.
Chapter One ->
Also, please go and check out jesidres' beautiful Rose/John Smith fanart here because it is gorgeous.