Doctor Who Fic: Five Times the Doctor and Rose Go Undercover
Title: Five Times the Doctor and Rose Go Undercover
Author:
silverlunarstar
Characters/Pairings: 9/Rose, Jack Harkness; Tad bit of- Mickey Smith, Pete Tyler
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor/Romance/Angst/Introspection
Warnings/Spoilers: Bits of season 1 and a small delve into Human Nature/The Family of Blood. Also a bit of mild nudity.
Words: 2,073
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
Summary: One-shot. It's always better with two and the Doctor was thankful that Time had allowed him these moments with her.
Author's Note: This is what comes out of my mind at hours when I should be asleep. Entry number two for challenge 89 for
then_theres_us. This would have been a '5 Times…and 1 Time They Didn’t' fic, but I’m not ready to write 10.5 yet. *Hangs head*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
1. The Hills of Hollywood
The hills of Hollywood were not all they were cracked up to be, especially while they had been living in the valley for almost two weeks during one of the hottest summers in Southern California. Even with the Doctor's slightly-psychic paper, they had been unable to find a flat anywhere nearby the alien who had disguised herself as Jennifer Lopez' third cousin, twice removed.
"Since when do you save celebrities?" Rose had teased. "Usually its princesses or shop girls." The Doctor so owed her, never mind that, at first, she'd been secretly (or not so secretly, sometimes he was just too good) pleased, but with this heat, she'd do anything for a place under sixty degrees where they could run for their lives.
"So what do you think?" he asked a few days later and he grinned as he watched his companion gaping at her surroundings.
"We're at the Grammy Awards." Suddenly saying so, she became nervous, her unoccupied hand smoothing down her short, deep violet dress that revealed more of her now-tanned legs than she was currently comfortable with.
"Yeah. Turns out Ms ‘Lopez-Espinosa’ just wanted to see the sights and since Jen has so much extended family…"
"What better way to see the sights than to be part of a famous celebrity's family?" Before an offending sound could escape his mouth, she gripped his finally cool hand. Even with his superior Time Lord biology, he'd been running warmer than usually during their stay. She looked him up and down, nervousness suddenly disappearing as she took him in. After two weeks of attending parties and fighting with him about wearing ‘proper attire,’ he finally caved in tonight and wore a dark charcoal suit; every time she lost interest in whatever she was staring at, her eyes continuously strayed to his form.
"Better with two, right?"
"Fantastic," she agreed.
2. Girl in Leather
The Doctor could not stop staring. He'd seen the pink and yellow girl in a variety of clothing, from her normal, everyday clothing to 19th century attire (39th actually, but he wasn't going to tell her that) to genuine 72nd century clothing - thanks to Jack, and he'd always thought she looked beautiful in anything. This however, this…
Rose tugged on the leather jacket she was wearing, feeling it wrapping her in warmth as it fit her form. "I haven't worn anything like this since I was fifteen!" Urg, her good mood suddenly dissipated; that was not something she wanted to remember; it was during the time she met that Jimmy Stone. There were few things Rose regretted in her life, but dating Jimmy Stone was definitely one of them. She'd left school because of him; granted, she'd always hated school, but at the very least she would have had her A-Levels. 'But then I wouldn't have met the Doctor.' She smiled.
"Bet you looked hot then as well." Jack winked.
Rose rolled her eyes playfully.
"So what's the plan, Doc?"
He tore his eyes from Rose to look at Jack's knowing smirk. "We go, get the information, and we're out."
"And the clothes are for…?" Rose gestured at her jacket that matched the Doctor's and Jack's leather jacket.
"Oi, I always wear this; Jack's just being a copycat." He grinned. "Why you have to wear a leather jacket… well, what else would the girl of the boss of a motorcycle gang wear?"
Rose blinked, turned to Jack. Too pretty boyish, as the Doctor would say. She turned to the Doctor, eyeing him from bottom to top. She pointed at him. He nodded. She pointed at herself, then once again at him. He nodded. "What are we waiting for then? Time's a-wasting!" She grabbed his cool hand and dragged him out. He did not even deem to pretend to put up a struggle.
"Uh, guys? Time machine…" Jack trailed after them slowly. He was still quite a few yards away when he saw them let go of each other's hands, only for the Doctor's arm to go around her, his hand gripping her in a possessive manner. His eyes followed Rose's arm wrapped around the alien's waist and saw that her hand had slipped into the Doctor's back pocket. This was going to be a very enjoyable night, Jack grinned.
3. Becoming the Fiction
What made one who they were? Their molecular structure? Their experiences? Their thoughts? Their mind? Their brain? Their body?
Any of these would point out that the Doctor wasn't the Doctor then. As they'd been running from the aliens who had suddenly found a semi-immortal being and wanted to devour him so they could live longer than their mayfly months, he'd rapidly explained regeneration and the Chameleon Arch to her.
'Talk about going undercover and getting in character.' She frowned. "Can't you at least wear some clothes while I'm at home?" she told the man she'd been living with for two months in an aggravated tone. For that was what he was: a man, plain and simple. It felt as if nothing of her Time Lord was left.
He ignored her (oh, he'd heard her alright, of that she was sure of) and took another drag of his cigarette before putting it out. That, at least, he always had the courtesy to do when she was at home; he tried to never smoke in front of her, but she always smelled it. It clung onto his clothes, no matter how many times she washed them. The Doctor told her his human persona would have residual awareness of her, but sometimes she wondered.
She wasn't so much bothered by his nakedness, if Rose was honest with herself, and recently she hadn't been; it was the stillness that had her so anxious. It's not like she continued to travel with the Doctor simply for the traveling. She did it because she…cared for him and she thrived off their adventures, off helping those in need. Mostly, she admitted, for him. He was all alone and if she could help him alleviate it just a little, then that's what she would do. Sometimes he pushed her away and didn't want her help, but more often than not they would simply lounge around in the same room and that was comfort enough for him. This man, however, showed nothing; she'd fancied herself a good Doctor-Reader after almost a year of being with him, but she could not read the man she'd been holding still for these past two months.
While Rose continued to pick up the litter he'd left strewn around their flat, she didn't notice two icy blue orbs following her form. For the past two months all he'd been able to do was throw himself into one addiction or another, anything to feel as if his skin was his own as well as to avoid resisting the temptation of the pink and yellow girl who lived with him for a reason he couldn't explain. It's not like he could give her anything. Suddenly, he heard a sharp intake of breath and he saw her whirl around, taking the few steps towards him. He was unnerved by the way her intense honey eyes looked deeply into his cold, blue ones. She placed a hand on his scruffy face and he covered it with his own, their fingers entwining. In the past couple of months, nothing had felt more right.
4. Voldemort’s Follower
"Feels like I'm one of Voldemort's Death Eaters." Rose wrinkled her nose. They had just finished infiltrating a 16th century coven that had kidnapped their own tribe's heir for a sacrifice. Turned out he had gone willing and there was no sacrifice to be had; he wanted to run away to be with one of the ‘witches.’ (An alien, the Doctor later told Rose, who used science for her ‘spells.’)
"J.K. Rowling didn't use pentagrams!" the Doctor said indignantly.
"No, but they all wore robes." She tugged at the sleeve of the dark robe she was wearing.
"So did everyone else. Why Voldemort?"
"I dunno, it's just…so cliché!"
"Remember, the witches and wizards were way behind the times because they felt the muggle society would be too afraid of them and would ‘taint’ them."
"Well, we've seen all throughout history how people react to those that are different than them."
"True," he agreed.
"Will it ever end?"
He shook his head. "No matter how accepting the universe becomes, there will always be that one percentage. Hey, if you're a Death Eater who does that make me?" he asked on a brighter note.
"Dumbledore," she said without hesitation.
"Dumbledore?" He was aghast.
"Yeah, Voldemort wouldn't be able to pull off the leather jacket like you or Dumbledore could."
"So does that mean I have to take you back to Hogwarts and make you talk?"
"You'd have to catch me first." She let go of his hand and grinned before dashing off.
5. Another Life, Another Dimension
A tiny sliver of a timeline suddenly appeared before him and the Doctor was suddenly hit by how easily he could have missed the opportunity to meet this fantastic girl. They were currently on Earth in the 25th century. If everyone thought that those of the 21st century sped by life quickly, well, it was nothing to those of the 25th. Shows like American Idol took quite some time to produce. Currently, everything was done within a month. He had Rose enter as a participant and he as a judge; he'd heard her sing a few notes before and thought she could make it until the last few days. He was wrong. She'd win.
It's only been a few weeks after Rose saw her father die and it's been at the forefront of his mind, which was why the alternate timeline hit him hard.
“Dad, dad,” Rose burst into his office, “guess what? There were some scouts at practice today and coach played one of the songs I recorded-”
“The one where Mickey recorded the beat?”
“That’s the one!” Mickey recorded all the background music, but she wasn’t going to say anything; she knew her dad was always preoccupied with work so they could keep a roof over their heads. “Well, the scouts were obviously for gymnastics, but one of them is married to a music producer and asked if he could have a copy to show his wife. If she likes it, I have an appointment for next Saturday.”
“That’s great Rose.” Peter Tyler grinned enthusiastically. He never knew his daughter had an interest in singing other than as a hobby. He frowned. “Could you get Mickey to look up the studio’s reputation and such? I don’t want you going unless all checks out.”
“You worry too much!” Rose said exasperatedly, but smiled nonetheless. He might not be the most attentive father, she knew, but he did his best. “I’ll have Cynthia drive me over tomorrow; he’ll probably be at his gran’s after work.”
“Okay, be careful.”
“Everyone there knows Mickey loves me like a sister; they wouldn’t dare touch me!” She said proudly. Anyway, Cynthia had given her a few self-defense classes after she dumped that loser Jimmy Stone. While she didn’t think her dad would get upset over the classes (if he knew about Jimmy…well, let’s just say it’d be hard for her dad to work on his Vitex business from jail), only she, Cynthia, and Mickey knew about it. Kissing her dad on the cheek, she headed to her room to call her best friend before finishing her homework.
The next day Mickey had all the information she needed. Before she knew it, she’d recorded a demo, encouraged Mickey to apply for a job at the studio as a technician, and, as time flew by, was well on her way to coming to the top of the charts.
She inspired many people and her loved ones were so proud. But she never understood why her hand always felt empty.
Somewhere far, far away, the last of the Time Lords, in his last regeneration, thought the same as his hand gripped nothing but air.
Usually timelines such as these were completely severed because of the dangers of a paradox occurring. 'Maybe in another dimension,' he thought sarcastically. Whatever it was, he simply shrugged and voted a 9.8/10 when Rose finished singing. While pop had never been his favorite type of music in any regeneration, and most definitely not this one's, he knew Rose Tyler would always be one of his favorites. Still, can't have her thinking so.
Author:
silverlunarstar
Characters/Pairings: 9/Rose, Jack Harkness; Tad bit of- Mickey Smith, Pete Tyler
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor/Romance/Angst/Introspection
Warnings/Spoilers: Bits of season 1 and a small delve into Human Nature/The Family of Blood. Also a bit of mild nudity.
Words: 2,073
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
Summary: One-shot. It's always better with two and the Doctor was thankful that Time had allowed him these moments with her.
Author's Note: This is what comes out of my mind at hours when I should be asleep. Entry number two for challenge 89 for
then_theres_us. This would have been a '5 Times…and 1 Time They Didn’t' fic, but I’m not ready to write 10.5 yet. *Hangs head*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
1. The Hills of Hollywood
The hills of Hollywood were not all they were cracked up to be, especially while they had been living in the valley for almost two weeks during one of the hottest summers in Southern California. Even with the Doctor's slightly-psychic paper, they had been unable to find a flat anywhere nearby the alien who had disguised herself as Jennifer Lopez' third cousin, twice removed.
"Since when do you save celebrities?" Rose had teased. "Usually its princesses or shop girls." The Doctor so owed her, never mind that, at first, she'd been secretly (or not so secretly, sometimes he was just too good) pleased, but with this heat, she'd do anything for a place under sixty degrees where they could run for their lives.
"So what do you think?" he asked a few days later and he grinned as he watched his companion gaping at her surroundings.
"We're at the Grammy Awards." Suddenly saying so, she became nervous, her unoccupied hand smoothing down her short, deep violet dress that revealed more of her now-tanned legs than she was currently comfortable with.
"Yeah. Turns out Ms ‘Lopez-Espinosa’ just wanted to see the sights and since Jen has so much extended family…"
"What better way to see the sights than to be part of a famous celebrity's family?" Before an offending sound could escape his mouth, she gripped his finally cool hand. Even with his superior Time Lord biology, he'd been running warmer than usually during their stay. She looked him up and down, nervousness suddenly disappearing as she took him in. After two weeks of attending parties and fighting with him about wearing ‘proper attire,’ he finally caved in tonight and wore a dark charcoal suit; every time she lost interest in whatever she was staring at, her eyes continuously strayed to his form.
"Better with two, right?"
"Fantastic," she agreed.
2. Girl in Leather
The Doctor could not stop staring. He'd seen the pink and yellow girl in a variety of clothing, from her normal, everyday clothing to 19th century attire (39th actually, but he wasn't going to tell her that) to genuine 72nd century clothing - thanks to Jack, and he'd always thought she looked beautiful in anything. This however, this…
Rose tugged on the leather jacket she was wearing, feeling it wrapping her in warmth as it fit her form. "I haven't worn anything like this since I was fifteen!" Urg, her good mood suddenly dissipated; that was not something she wanted to remember; it was during the time she met that Jimmy Stone. There were few things Rose regretted in her life, but dating Jimmy Stone was definitely one of them. She'd left school because of him; granted, she'd always hated school, but at the very least she would have had her A-Levels. 'But then I wouldn't have met the Doctor.' She smiled.
"Bet you looked hot then as well." Jack winked.
Rose rolled her eyes playfully.
"So what's the plan, Doc?"
He tore his eyes from Rose to look at Jack's knowing smirk. "We go, get the information, and we're out."
"And the clothes are for…?" Rose gestured at her jacket that matched the Doctor's and Jack's leather jacket.
"Oi, I always wear this; Jack's just being a copycat." He grinned. "Why you have to wear a leather jacket… well, what else would the girl of the boss of a motorcycle gang wear?"
Rose blinked, turned to Jack. Too pretty boyish, as the Doctor would say. She turned to the Doctor, eyeing him from bottom to top. She pointed at him. He nodded. She pointed at herself, then once again at him. He nodded. "What are we waiting for then? Time's a-wasting!" She grabbed his cool hand and dragged him out. He did not even deem to pretend to put up a struggle.
"Uh, guys? Time machine…" Jack trailed after them slowly. He was still quite a few yards away when he saw them let go of each other's hands, only for the Doctor's arm to go around her, his hand gripping her in a possessive manner. His eyes followed Rose's arm wrapped around the alien's waist and saw that her hand had slipped into the Doctor's back pocket. This was going to be a very enjoyable night, Jack grinned.
3. Becoming the Fiction
What made one who they were? Their molecular structure? Their experiences? Their thoughts? Their mind? Their brain? Their body?
Any of these would point out that the Doctor wasn't the Doctor then. As they'd been running from the aliens who had suddenly found a semi-immortal being and wanted to devour him so they could live longer than their mayfly months, he'd rapidly explained regeneration and the Chameleon Arch to her.
'Talk about going undercover and getting in character.' She frowned. "Can't you at least wear some clothes while I'm at home?" she told the man she'd been living with for two months in an aggravated tone. For that was what he was: a man, plain and simple. It felt as if nothing of her Time Lord was left.
He ignored her (oh, he'd heard her alright, of that she was sure of) and took another drag of his cigarette before putting it out. That, at least, he always had the courtesy to do when she was at home; he tried to never smoke in front of her, but she always smelled it. It clung onto his clothes, no matter how many times she washed them. The Doctor told her his human persona would have residual awareness of her, but sometimes she wondered.
She wasn't so much bothered by his nakedness, if Rose was honest with herself, and recently she hadn't been; it was the stillness that had her so anxious. It's not like she continued to travel with the Doctor simply for the traveling. She did it because she…cared for him and she thrived off their adventures, off helping those in need. Mostly, she admitted, for him. He was all alone and if she could help him alleviate it just a little, then that's what she would do. Sometimes he pushed her away and didn't want her help, but more often than not they would simply lounge around in the same room and that was comfort enough for him. This man, however, showed nothing; she'd fancied herself a good Doctor-Reader after almost a year of being with him, but she could not read the man she'd been holding still for these past two months.
While Rose continued to pick up the litter he'd left strewn around their flat, she didn't notice two icy blue orbs following her form. For the past two months all he'd been able to do was throw himself into one addiction or another, anything to feel as if his skin was his own as well as to avoid resisting the temptation of the pink and yellow girl who lived with him for a reason he couldn't explain. It's not like he could give her anything. Suddenly, he heard a sharp intake of breath and he saw her whirl around, taking the few steps towards him. He was unnerved by the way her intense honey eyes looked deeply into his cold, blue ones. She placed a hand on his scruffy face and he covered it with his own, their fingers entwining. In the past couple of months, nothing had felt more right.
4. Voldemort’s Follower
"Feels like I'm one of Voldemort's Death Eaters." Rose wrinkled her nose. They had just finished infiltrating a 16th century coven that had kidnapped their own tribe's heir for a sacrifice. Turned out he had gone willing and there was no sacrifice to be had; he wanted to run away to be with one of the ‘witches.’ (An alien, the Doctor later told Rose, who used science for her ‘spells.’)
"J.K. Rowling didn't use pentagrams!" the Doctor said indignantly.
"No, but they all wore robes." She tugged at the sleeve of the dark robe she was wearing.
"So did everyone else. Why Voldemort?"
"I dunno, it's just…so cliché!"
"Remember, the witches and wizards were way behind the times because they felt the muggle society would be too afraid of them and would ‘taint’ them."
"Well, we've seen all throughout history how people react to those that are different than them."
"True," he agreed.
"Will it ever end?"
He shook his head. "No matter how accepting the universe becomes, there will always be that one percentage. Hey, if you're a Death Eater who does that make me?" he asked on a brighter note.
"Dumbledore," she said without hesitation.
"Dumbledore?" He was aghast.
"Yeah, Voldemort wouldn't be able to pull off the leather jacket like you or Dumbledore could."
"So does that mean I have to take you back to Hogwarts and make you talk?"
"You'd have to catch me first." She let go of his hand and grinned before dashing off.
5. Another Life, Another Dimension
A tiny sliver of a timeline suddenly appeared before him and the Doctor was suddenly hit by how easily he could have missed the opportunity to meet this fantastic girl. They were currently on Earth in the 25th century. If everyone thought that those of the 21st century sped by life quickly, well, it was nothing to those of the 25th. Shows like American Idol took quite some time to produce. Currently, everything was done within a month. He had Rose enter as a participant and he as a judge; he'd heard her sing a few notes before and thought she could make it until the last few days. He was wrong. She'd win.
It's only been a few weeks after Rose saw her father die and it's been at the forefront of his mind, which was why the alternate timeline hit him hard.
“Dad, dad,” Rose burst into his office, “guess what? There were some scouts at practice today and coach played one of the songs I recorded-”
“The one where Mickey recorded the beat?”
“That’s the one!” Mickey recorded all the background music, but she wasn’t going to say anything; she knew her dad was always preoccupied with work so they could keep a roof over their heads. “Well, the scouts were obviously for gymnastics, but one of them is married to a music producer and asked if he could have a copy to show his wife. If she likes it, I have an appointment for next Saturday.”
“That’s great Rose.” Peter Tyler grinned enthusiastically. He never knew his daughter had an interest in singing other than as a hobby. He frowned. “Could you get Mickey to look up the studio’s reputation and such? I don’t want you going unless all checks out.”
“You worry too much!” Rose said exasperatedly, but smiled nonetheless. He might not be the most attentive father, she knew, but he did his best. “I’ll have Cynthia drive me over tomorrow; he’ll probably be at his gran’s after work.”
“Okay, be careful.”
“Everyone there knows Mickey loves me like a sister; they wouldn’t dare touch me!” She said proudly. Anyway, Cynthia had given her a few self-defense classes after she dumped that loser Jimmy Stone. While she didn’t think her dad would get upset over the classes (if he knew about Jimmy…well, let’s just say it’d be hard for her dad to work on his Vitex business from jail), only she, Cynthia, and Mickey knew about it. Kissing her dad on the cheek, she headed to her room to call her best friend before finishing her homework.
The next day Mickey had all the information she needed. Before she knew it, she’d recorded a demo, encouraged Mickey to apply for a job at the studio as a technician, and, as time flew by, was well on her way to coming to the top of the charts.
She inspired many people and her loved ones were so proud. But she never understood why her hand always felt empty.
Somewhere far, far away, the last of the Time Lords, in his last regeneration, thought the same as his hand gripped nothing but air.
Usually timelines such as these were completely severed because of the dangers of a paradox occurring. 'Maybe in another dimension,' he thought sarcastically. Whatever it was, he simply shrugged and voted a 9.8/10 when Rose finished singing. While pop had never been his favorite type of music in any regeneration, and most definitely not this one's, he knew Rose Tyler would always be one of his favorites. Still, can't have her thinking so.