Another fic - Comparing Notes
I've been working on this one for a long time, and I think this is about as good as it's going to get. Basically, it's a meeting between 9/Rose and 6/Peri. 9 has something to tell 6, and Rose and Peri compare notes. I guess it's also AU, since Rose had no idea about regeneration before POTW.
Title: Comparing Notes
Pairing: 9/Rose
Doctors: 9 and 6
Rating: T
Spoilers: None, really
Disclaimer: I don't own them yet. Once the time machine is working, I will of course own everything to do with Doctor Who. The BBC can expect a law suit soon. Now where's that sonic screwdriver?
They paused inside the door and glanced around. Except for the locals orange-hued skin it could have been any number of London pubs - dark, dank, crowded. Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust. Smelled the same, too. The odour of stale beer and too many unwashed males in a in confined space was almost thick enough to cut.
The Doctor had spotted someone at the bar and began to elbow his way through the crowd. "Find somewhere and make yourself inconspicuous," be called over his shoulder. "This won't take long."
Inconspicuous, right. Already some of the nearby males had lifted their gaze from the drink in front of them to eye her in a way that was all too familiar and just as unwelcome. With a put-upon sigh retreated to the cluster of tables, hoping to find an empty one, pointedly ignoring each leer she passed.
Rose came to a sudden halt. Sitting alone at a table in the corner was a woman, the only other woman in the place, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Rose felt. She was a few years older than Rose, possibly human, certainly not a local, with shoulder-length brown hair.
"'Scuse me," Rose began, "would you mind if it sat here? Only... " she indicated to the room of gawking drunks behind her.
"Sure. Actually. I'd be glad if you did. My friend went to get us some drinks 20 minutes ago and I'm starting to feel like a zoo exhibit."
The girl had a warm, friendly voice, and what sounded like an American accent. Rose had learnt that didn't necessarily mean she was. "Are you from Earth?" That might be a safer starting point.
She laughed. "Yeah. I'm American. You from London?"
Rose grinned in return. "Yep. Umm... This might sound like a mental question, but when?"
"Well, it was 1985 when I left. Been travelling for almost three years. My name's Peri, by the way."
"Yeah, sorry. I'm Rose." 1985. I hadn't even been born.
"You're here with someone?"
"Said he had to meet someone here, that I should make myself inconspicuous, until he was done."
Peri gave a short laugh. "Yeah. The Doctor told me much the same thing..."
"Hang about, the Doctor? My friend's called the Doctor too."
''Young guy, blond hair, blue eyes, cute, but kind of vague?" Peri asked hopefully.
"Nah, forty-ish, brown hair, crew cut, switches between moody and manic at the drop of a hat." Rose couldn't help but grin, that description didn't even begin to do him justice.
"Sounds like fun," Peri laughed.
"Oh, yeah. He is that. How about yours?"
"Where to begin? Loud, obnoxious, overbearing, argumentative, shocking dress sense, thinks he's right about everything - which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't...”
“But?” There had to be more to him than that.
“But underneath it all he cares about the small things, the important things - ordinary people living ordinary lives, injustice, butterflies.” Peri smiled softly.
“Sounds like my Doctor,” Rose mused. “Look, what you said about the young blond guy...what did you mean?”
Peri paused, as if choosing her words carefully. “Before he looked like he does now, he was a different man.”
“Different how?”
“Well, he looked completely different. And his personality changed. Before he was really sweet. But underneath it all he was still the same person. What I said about the important things, that didn't change at all, once I learnt how to ignore all the bluster.” For a moment Peri's smile slipped into something almost bitter. “It took a while.”
“But how did he change bodies? Your Doctor's not human either, is he?”
“No, he's not. We were poking about some planet, minding our own business and got poisoned. Before we could get back to the TARDIS we were caught up in a feud between drug runners, soldiers and some insane drug baron ...” Peri shuddered at the memory. “Anyway, long story short, the Doctor found an antidote, but there wasn't enough for both of us. By the time I came round he was, well, dying I think. But instead of dying his body changed. Regeneration, he called it ... Rose are you okay?”
Rose had barely heard a word after “TARDIS”, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. “TARDIS,” she repeated softly to herself. "Regeneration? What exactly happened to him?"
"I don't remember much about the actual process. Just, one minute there was this blinding light and then he was someone else. Afterwards was pretty unpleasant, though. It was almost as if his brain was scrambled by the whole thing. He didn't know who I was from one moment to the next. And the mood swings were," she paused for a moment and shivered, "well, I wouldn't want to go through it again." She studied Rose for a moment. "Are you okay?"
“Peri, I think your Doctor and mine are the same bloke.” Why had he never mentioned that he would change?
Standing at the bar, chatting amiably to the publican, the realization that he really should get back to Peri floating in the back of his conciousness, he was suddenly aware that someone was standing behind him. No, not just someone. Himself. Slowly he turned. Eyeing the newcomer's spartanly neat and inconspicuous outfit he suddenly found himself enviously wishing he'd opted for a similar approach. It would have saved many arguments with Peri, for starters. “Hmmm,” he began, hoping to sound disapproving, “it's a bit unimaginative.”
“I'm not here to trade fashion secrets.”
Well, at least the accent went with the outfit. “Then why are you here? You know how much the High Council disapproves of me crossing my own time stream.” Something dark flitted across his other self's face, but then he smiled.
“Yeah, I know. But I've got a message for you.”
“A message? From whom?”
“Me.”
“That's highly dangerous! Changing our history...”
“I'm not changing our history.”
“Oh? How is that possible?”
“Because I remember this meeting. I remember having this conversation. And I remember realizing that Peri had been right all along about that outfit.”
The Doctor drew in a harsh breath, about to protest vociferously. How dare this upstart tell him what he'd just thought?
“Don't start. I just need to tell you something important.”
“Very well. What? And which one of me are you?”
“Nine. Now, in a few regenerations you'll meet a human in London called Rose Tyler. When you ask her to come with you she refuses. But don't take no for an answer. Go back for her. It's important.”
“Why? Why is one human so important.”
“They're all important, you know that. And I can't tell you more than that. When you meet her you'll know why.”
“And I'm supposed to remember this through the next several regenerations, am I?” Something about the smug grin on this newer him made him want to slap himself.
“You might think you've forgotten, but when the time comes you'll remember.”
“Very well." Arguing with himself had never been a productive past -time . "Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to Peri. I have a nasty suspicion the patrons in this bar don't see many woman - apart from their mothers.”
“Not a problem,” Nine responded, following him towards the tables, “I need to find ... oh, bugger!”
The Doctor followed his gaze and found himself looking at Peri, no longer alone at her table, talking earnestly with a young, blonde woman. “Rose Tyler, I presume?”
“Yeah. I should have known ...”
Suddenly feeling more in control of the situation, the Doctor smiled and followed his ninth incarnation to Peri's table.
Rose looked up and saw the Doctor bearing down on their table, looking anything but happy. So she shot him a glare to let him know he wasn't the only one. Then she spotted the man striding after him, and forgot, briefly, that she was angry.
When Peri had mentioned his lack of dress sense she'd never imagined something this bad. She couldn't decide what was worse - the yellow and black striped trousers, the multicoloured coat, or the waistcoat that looked like someone had thrown up on it. Then she spotted the shirt with the question marks on the collar. Yep, that was it. Naffest Shirt Ever. She'd never rib the Doctor about not changing out of his black trousers and leather jacket again. Then she remembered that this was the Doctor, that someday her Doctor would also become someone else, and she was still mad at him.
"We have to go," he said without preamble. But she wasn't going to be deterred so easily.
"Were you ever going to mention this little party trick of yours? Or were you going to just leave it until I woke up one day and found you looking like someone else?"
"Actually," he replied, glancing uncomfortably around him, "I was hoping we'd never have to have this conversation. And this is certainly not the place to do it."
Rose wasn't in the mood to be reasonable. "Tough. I want to know now."
"Alright. But back in the TARDIS, yeah? We've already compromised my time line enough for one day."
She could sense Peri and the other Doctor watching them curiously and bit back the temptation to argue just for the hell of it. Instead she gave Peri a smile that promised she wasn't going to let the Doctor off the hook easily.
"It was good to meet you, Peri. Keep him safe for me, yeah?"
Peri nodded solemnly.
"Oh, and Doctor? Nice shirt." She turned and made her way briskly to the door, her Doctor floundering in her wake.
The Doctor looked indignantly at Peri. "What precisely is wrong with this shirt?" He noticed his ninth incarnation still lingering. "Was there something else? Or do you have more fashion tips?"
"No, it's just ..." he glanced furtively at Peri, "well, we both know they can't stay with us forever. Just ... Don't assume she's happy where she is. Make sure." With that he strode out the door in pursuit of his fuming companion.
Sighing, he plonked himself down in the chair beside Peri. "Honestly, I do not improve with age."
She could hear his footsteps behind her, rushing to catch up. She didn't slow her pace.
“Rose wait!” he called.
He was almost on her, so she stopped abruptly and whirled angrily to face him. “You really weren't going to tell me?”
“What did you expect me to say - it travels in time and one day I'm going to change into someone else?” He sighed, and reached out for her hand, and she allowed him to draw her into a darkened alley, away from any interested onlookers. “Look, there's a good chance you'll never have to see the next me. This body should last me over a century of your time.”
“Yeah, but we end up running for lives on a regular basis. Sooner or later...”
“Sooner or later our luck is going to run out. I know that. But you can't regenerate. “ His gaze dropped. “One way or another you'll leave me.”
She had no answer for that one. The stood silently for a moment, her anger deflated. “So how does it happen?” she asked finally.
He was silent for so long she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he slumped against a wall and began to talk in the soft, pained tone she'd heard on the few occasions he'd talked about his people. “On Gallifrey, it was usually a smooth process. When a Time Lord's body wore out they regenerated. With the proper preparation it was more a renewal - mostly they ended up looking much like they had. No personality changes, no radically different faces...”
“But what about you?” From what little he'd told her she had the impression he'd spent most of his life travelling the universe in the TARDIS. Hurtling from one adventure to the next. Hardly time to prepare for a regeneration.
“I never regenerated on Gallifrey. And I've never looked the same twice. When you're clinging to existence, hanging on to your appearance is a minor consideration.”
Rose was silent for a long time. He knew she must have realized that his claim about this body lasting over a hundred years was likely to become a lie.
“Will you remember me?”
Her voice was so soft he barely heard her. Oh, Rose. He wondered how much Peri had told her. Poor Peri... Recalling his advice to his younger self he resolved to act upon it himself. Rose wouldn't be with him forever, no matter how much wished it could be otherwise.
He had no clear recollection of moving, just felt Rose's surprised 'ooof' as they impacted with the wall. The exclamation was swallowed as he pressed his mouth to hers. She didn't react. Probably should have checked she wanted this before I pinned her to a wall, he thought belatedly.
Suddenly she came to life. Her hands that had come to rest against his chest gripped the lapels of his jacket and she pulled him closer, kissing him back ferociously.
It wasn't until oxygen became a serious priority that his next coherent thought came. In the intervening minutes both their hands hand found their way beneath clothing, eagerly testing the texture of foreign skin, and he was pressed tightly against her. His hips thrust lazily against her, causing them both to moan softly. Finally freed after centuries of being firmly under the control of his mind, his body was reluctant to relinquish that freedom. Finally he settled for simply being able to form a coherent sentence.
“I'll never forget you, Rose Tyler,” he breathed into her ear.
She shivered. “Good.”
“I think we really need to get back to the TARDIS, now. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure we could get arrested for this.”
Rose titled her head up to meet his eyes, a challenging look in hers. “So?”
End.
I thought about writing an epilogue, but I don't think I can write smut. Maybe I'll try anyway.