Fic. A Birthday Wish (1/1)
Author's Notes: For the frankly awesome amyo67 for her birthday. *hugs* Sorry it's a bit late, love. Hope you like it :)
This was going to be a drabble, then a ficlet, but it just wanted to keep going and wouldn’t quit. So you got a fic for your birthday, Amy. Happy Birthday, love *hugs*
I would advise you have a dentist to hand; this is probably the fluffiest, sweetest thing I have ever written...and I have absolutely no idea where it came from. *shrugs.* It also has no smut whatsoever! *runs and hides from the thrown items by the smut!fiends*
A Birthday Wish - a fic for amy067 ‘s birthday
Rose was twenty one today- or at least she thought she was. It was almost impossible to keep track of the date when you were travelling in the Tardis. Forwards, backwards and even sideways in time was always going to skew your perception of the amount of time passed and, if she was honest, she really didn’t care too much. After all, she was with the Doctor, and that was worth missing all of her birthdays for. Sitting on her bed and picking up her phone, she decided to call her mum, just to check.
Fifteen minutes and a whole load of gossip later, she really was none the wiser. Her mum had neatly side-stepped the birthday question by telling her about Bev’s latest conquest, and how Mrs Johnson at number twenty four had won a thousand pounds on the Lottery, lucky cow, then insisted she had to go because she was off out on the pull with Bev and her mates. So, really, Rose was no further forward. Sighing, she decided to ask the resident expert, and set off towards the console room, where he was no doubt tinkering.
The only sound that greeted her was not the whirr of the sonic screwdriver, but the hum of the Time Rotor as it pulsed; the Doctor conspicuous by his absence. It wasn’t until she turned to go back into the corridor that the pink post-it note stuck to the console caught her eye. Pink was not the usual colour the Doctor preferred, and if he used one at all, it was usually stuck to the monitor. This was stuck on the column of the Time Rotor, and she could make out her name on it, in capital letters.
ROSE.
I bet you’re wondering where I am. Well, it’s a surprise. Or it will be. I hope. Anyway, go to the Wardrobe Room, the Tardis has put out some clothes for you. I want you to put them on, and then come back here, where you’ll find another note. Do as it says. And don’t argue. You’ll love the end result, promise.
Love
The Doctor.
Shaking her head at the fact that he could still ramble even when leaving her a note, she smiled and wondered just what was going on as she headed off down the corridor to do as he had asked. She just hoped that what she was to wear was nowhere near as strange and surreal as the body paint and opaque plastic wrap that had adorned her on their last trip. It had taken three showers and an awful lot of scrubbing to remove that blasted paint, and the plastic wrap had made her sweat, even though the planet itself had been a little on the cool side. She paused at the door to the Wardrobe Room and chuckled at the memory of their return to the Tardis, when she had grinned at him and asked if he was going to scrub her back for her. He had backed away, babbling and blushing, rubbing the back of his neck; and had stuttered that he had to calibrate the whatsit and transpose the wiring on the thingamajig, and had disappeared under the console, the sonic in hand, with startling alacrity. Still grinning at the memory of his pinstriped arse sticking in the air while his torso was under the grating, she pushed open the door. And gasped.
Straight in front of her was the most perfect dress she had ever seen. All alone on a hanger over a free-standing full-length mirror, it was completely and absolutely stunning. Black chiffon over a plain black shift, the chiffon seeded with what looked like hundreds of tiny stars, all glinting and flashing in the light. A matching chiffon wrap was laid across a chair, which stood next to a dresser with cosmetics all laid out on it. A black velvet box took up the centre of the dresser, and a pair of black shoes with silver heels was tucked underneath. Stepping into the room, she put her hand on the wall and thanked the ship, before slowly walking over to the dress and lifting the hanger; she put it up against herself and looked at her reflection. A slow sweet smile graced her features; she hung it back over the mirror and moved to the dresser, running her fingers over the soft velvet covering of the box in the middle, before opening the catch and lifting the lid. What she found inside took her breath away.
A simple silver chain, from which hung a twisted double figure-of-eight studded with the same stones that adorned the dress, contained inside a circle of silver. Silver hairpins, each set with the same stones, a pair of matching earrings, and a bracelet with the same symbol interspersed between the links completed the ensemble. She suddenly found herself close to tears. She recognised the symbol. The Seal of Rassilon, the symbol of his home, his race; the symbol that adorned his bed linen.
She had only seen it once, on a night when she couldn’t sleep, and had wandered the halls looking for him. The Tardis had led to her a plain door, slightly ajar, and she had quietly peeked inside. He had been sleeping, a rare occurrence, and she felt her heart clench with the love she felt for him, seeing him looking so peaceful and relaxed. One arm was flung above his head, the other across the cover which ended halfway up his chest, his lips parted, his sparsely haired chest rising and falling with each inhalation and exhalation; the sight of which had made her breath catch in her throat. Seeing her Doctor so still and quiet had felt like such a privilege, the man who was constantly moving being completely still. She had quietly pulled the door closed and tiptoed back to her room, clutching the memory of that sight to her like a beacon on a dark night. She had fallen asleep with that image in her mind.
He, of course, had known that she had watched him sleep for a short while; his Time Lord senses attuned to her presence even in sleep, and had casually mentioned it over their morning cuppa. She had been embarrassed and apologetic, which he waved away with a flick of his hand. When she had hesitantly asked, he had told her what the symbol on his cover was, then told her that watching him sleep was nothing to be embarrassed about, and that he had done the same to her. With that, he had bounded out of the room. That little snippet of information had rendered her speechless, and by the time she had caught up with him again, they were landing and he had chased her to change so they could explore. By the time they had got back, laughing at the misfortune that had befallen them, and which had led them to a cold dank cell, yet again, she had forgotten about it.
She shook herself from her memories, and stripped out of her hoodie, t-shirt and jeans, wondering about suitable underwear. A concealed drawer on the dresser had opened and revealed a set of matching black lace-trimmed lingerie, the lace gossamer thin and fragile. She stroked it reverently; it was obviously alien, and expensive. Working at Henriks had given her an eye for quality...and this would put anything they sold into the realm of market stall goods. As she stepped into the briefs and fastened the strapless bra, she felt like a movie star - and she hadn’t even put on the dress yet. She expertly twisted her hair into a loose knot and piled it on top of her head, fastening it with the glittering pins from the velvet box, before applying her make up; subtly emphasising her eyes with mascara and a little silvery eye shadow before a light flick of the blusher brush over her cheekbones and a quick slick of pale gloss to her lips completed her look. She looked at her reflection critically, and was pleased with the result.
She slipped her feet into the shoes, then stood before the mirror, and the hanging dress. Taking it carefully from its hanger, she stepped into it, drew up the side zipper to find it was a perfect fit, turned to the dresser and put on the final touches of the jewellery, and a light spray of her favourite perfume. Looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she was taken aback at her appearance. She still looked like Rose, but a more grown up sophisticated version. A version who could capture the hearts of a Time Lord, should she so wish. And closing her eyes, she made that wish.
If it is my birthday and if I am allowed one wish, then here it is. I wish he would let himself love me, because I know he does, but he holds back. Please. Because I love him too.
She sighed, and opened her eyes. Picking up the wrap, she draped it over her shoulders, gave herself another critical look in the mirror then set off for the console room, and the next set of instructions she knew would be waiting for her.
Another post-it note was stuck beneath the last.
I hope you like what you’re wearing. At least, I hope you’re wearing everything you found. But even if you’re not, it doesn’t matter. Just leave the Tardis, now, and wait five minutes before following the next instruction. You’ll get that when you get outside.
He was being deliberately vague, she thought, smiling as she moved to the Tardis doors, but then, that was nothing new. Not knowing what to expect, she opened the door...and found herself staring at her mother, dressed in her pink hoodie and jeans. Jackie smiled gently at her, love for her daughter written all over her face.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart. You look stunning. He’s done you proud, love. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more beautiful, you know.”
She hugged her mother, and then pulled back.
“You been conspiring with him, then?”
Jackie laughed and hugged her back before replying.
“No, not really. He called and asked if I thought you’d like what he had planned to do, and when I heard his idea, I knew you would, so I just agreed to help however I could. And now, I have to give you your last instruction. Go on up to the roof, love.”
Rose looked confused.
“The roof?”
“Yeah. Go on, move yourself. Off you go.”
Her mother ushered her out of the door, and closed it with a soft smile on her face. Who knew the alien could be such a romantic sod, she thought wistfully.
Rose’s mind was whirling as she stepped out onto the roof of the flats, not knowing what to expect.
It certainly wasn’t the small table set with snowy white linen and silver covered dishes, lit softly by candles littering every available surface. It wasn’t the soft music playing, the champagne sitting in a silver bucket of ice by the table, or the full moon and stars twinkling in the clear night sky above. And it definitely wasn’t the tall messy-haired figure in evening dress, leaning against the wall, a single red rose in his hand and a hesitant smile on his face.
“Happy Birthday, my Rose,” he said softly, his eyes shining as he looked at her, beautiful and ethereal as the moonlight caressed her.
Rose’s eyes glittered with tears as she looked at him. Her Doctor, the angular planes of his face softened by the gentle light of the candles fluttering in the soft breeze; the beautiful alien she loved with her whole heart.
“You did all this for me?” she whispered, her voice almost failing her as she slowly approached him.
“Of course.” He replied quietly. “Oh, Rose, you deserve so much more than this. And it’s yours. If you want it. Dance with me?”
He held out a hand, and as she always did, she put her hand in his. He gathered her into his arms, the single rose he held falling forgotten to the floor and he lowered his head and kissed her gently, before resting his forehead against hers and swaying with her to the music.
“Doctor?
“Mmm.”
“Why now?”
“Because it was time.”
She looked into his warm chocolate eyes, and saw swirling there all the love he had in his hearts, and all aimed at her. She smiled back, putting all she felt for him in her gaze.
“Rose, I need to know. Do you want it all? Do you want me?”
“Yes. I’ve always wanted you.”
His head dipped again and took her breath away in a soul searing kiss that branded her forever the lover of a Time Lord, and taking her hand once more, he whispered to her,
“Come with me?”
She replied with the only answer she would ever give to that question.
“Always.”
Jackie Tyler lay in her bed, as the sound of the front door closing quietly and footsteps pausing in the hallway reached her ears, a lone tear falling onto her pillow. She heard their quiet words; Rose’s a soft admission of her love, and his, a fervent reply that he would love her for all time. Theirs was an epic love story; the stuff in the books she read paled into insignificance in comparison, she thought, and she thanked all the heavens that her daughter was so loved...even if he was an alien. He loved her daughter, her daughter loved him, and that was all that mattered.
As the muted sound of the Tardis dematerialising faded, she turned her face to her pillow, closed her eyes and wished with all her heart that they always be as happy as they were at this moment.