Touching Time 7/7
TITLE: Touching Time
CHARACTERS: Ten/Rose, nothing but Ten/Rose
RATING: Teen
SPOILERS: Up to Idiots Lantern, but very nonspecifically
SUMMARY: You want talky, angsty, witty-banter Ten? You've got him. Now with 30% more romance and UST!
DISCLAIMER: Insert humorous note about how I don't own the characters nor make any money off them right here.
BETA: The lovely and talented jaradel, but at the end of the day any errors and all silliness are entirely my fault.
A/N: A sequel to Flowers on Air . Not vital to have read that, but references are made to the action in that story.
This Chapter: "You never said, before. What's the best that could happen?"
"Doctor! Why didn't you tell me it was almost up?" She flung herself in to his room and tackled him where he lay rumpled and wide-eyed on the bed.
"I lost track of time."
She lifted her head from where she'd buried it on his shoulder and laughed, a fully belly laugh. "You lost track of what?"
He just shrugged and smiled, a dimple popping out on his right cheek.
"I'd better go pack my stuff up!" Hurricane Rose jumped up again and left his room in the same flurry of flying hair and smiles and laughter as she'd entered. The Doctor gathered his jacket and coat up and put himself back together more or less. His hair was a fright, but that was nothing new. He could use a proper meal and his freckles had faded somewhat from lack of sunlight.
A hospitality droid hovered in the hallway, and when Rose reappeared there, again shouldering her rucksack, the Doctor was nonchalantly (he hoped) leaning against the wall waiting for her.
"Guests: Two. Species: human. Species: unknown," the droid intoned and turned down the hall of identical doors and into the waiting lift. When the doors closed, after Rose and the Doctor had also entered, it inserted an appendage in to a slot and Rose felt the lift begin to ascend. The silence between them was not entirely uncomfortable, but also wasn't completely without overtones of awkwardness.
"So," Rose ventured, "what d'you think our rooms will be like?"
"Oh, a bit more tailored to humanoid tastes I think. I reckon you'll like it."
The lift lurched to a halt and the doors opened on to a hallway quite unlike the one they had come from. As in the lobby, the decor was decidedly 19th century Earth, and Rose wondered just what it was about that particular time and place that lent itself to hotel decor apparently the Universe-over. The droid hovered out and they followed until it came to a stop in front of a large, dark-stained wooden door with an ornate brass handle. A drawer slid out of the droid. "Guest: one. Species: unknown. Your sonic device and room key."
The Doctor grinned as he palmed his sonic screwdriver, enjoying its weight in his hand again. As an afterthought he also grabbed a small triangular object that Rose guessed must be the key. A piece of paper shot out of the droid again. "Please take your receipt," it said. The Doctor grabbed it and with a flourish pocketed the key and soniced the door open instead.
"There we are then," he chirped as he entered.
The droid moved across the hall to an identical door and went through the same routine. "Guest: one. Species: human. Your key."
She grabbed it out of the tray but then fumbled with it, trying to work out where it went. The Doctor strode up behind her and took the hand she held it in, guiding it to the right of the door and in to a tiny slot. There was a click as the door unlatched.
"Stick with me," he whispered, "and you'll never need another key again." He tossed the screwdriver in to the air end-over-end and caught it behind his back.
"Show off," she grinned, and entered her room.
"I'll just be, you know...." He gestured to his door and began to shuffle over to it.
"Yeah," she murmured, distracted by exploring her luxury suite.
It certainly lived up to its name. Sumptuous fabrics in rich colors covered every surface, and the space was enormous with high gilt ceilings, and a large en suite with what appeared to be some sort of sauna and hot tub. What feels good to humanoids apparently doesn't change much. She'd been alone in a room enough already though, as nice as this one may have been. It was time to go have an adventure on an alien planet in the far future with her companion. Unpacking her rucksack once again, she pulled out her one and only formal dress. Purchased in order to attend a royal function of a sort on another distant planet, it was made of some kind of wrinkle-resistant fabric which she felt to be rather practical for her lifestyle. The cut was flattering but not too revealing. The Doctor may insist that not all species are as prudish as 21st century humans, but some were more so.
Rose felt it was high time to go find out about these psychic chefs. She thought about exploring her room's wet bar first, but reconsidered drinking anything potentially intoxicating without the Doctor around to taste and chemically analyze. She'd heard about strange alien aphrodisiacs hiding in innocuous-looking bottles and thought that was something she did not need in the slightest.
After smartening herself up some, she opened her door to find herself looking at the Doctor doing the exact same thing, though looking considerably less smart.
"Oh!" he squeaked. "You brought the Posh Frock."
"I did, because you are about to take me for a proper meal. I hope you've arranged for some dosh."
"Mm," he said, sonicing his door locked and then hers in turn. "All-inclusive. TARDIS is taking care of it."
"I think I fancy a drink first. They got stuff here that's not going to, like, turn me purple or in to a raving lunatic?"
They walked arm-in-arm down the hall to the lift.
~o0o~
One drink seemed to turn in to several with stern determination. The Doctor always claimed that he could catalyze or metabolize or something-ize alcohol and thus never get drunk, though Rose fancied his eyelids were drooping ever so slightly. She herself had not had enough to be drunk, but just enough to understand the phrase "liquid courage." They hadn't talked much, but the silence was comfortable and enjoyable after the experience of being able to talk all they wanted but not actually be together. The restaurant was filled and humming with mostly humanoids of varying shapes, colors and textures. To the Doctor's visible relief, no Sisters of Plenitude were in attendance. When he rested a slender hand on the table across from her, she reached out and covered it with hers, and they sat that way for a long while, watching the rest of the room go about its business.
Rose had noticed that the food to other tables was delivered by smaller versions of the hospitality droids, and when one trundled up and presented them with two trays of the most gorgeous looking fish and chips Rose had ever seen, it took her a moment to remember that they hadn't actually placed an order at any time.
"Psychic chefs!" the Doctor announced.
Seeing that they both had received the same exact meal, they grinned at each other like loons for a moment before tucking in with wild abandon. Rose had halfway devoured her meal before stopping to catch her breath.
"Why is it," she said between mouthfuls, "that aliens make the best chips?"
The Doctor wiped his mouth with a serviette. "You don't want to know, believe me."
She eyed her plate for a moment. "You're right. I don't."
For Rose, the boredom and interpersonal stress of the previous days were replaced by a warm, expansive feeling of satisfaction. The Doctor, as usual, was a cipher. His mercurial moods made it so that she could never really tell right away if he had turned on a sixpence legitimately, or was just pretending. She had considered on a number of occasions that "Oncoming Storm" referred not to his fearsome reputation as a warrior, but simply the fact that he was as changeable as the weather.
When they were finally finished filling in the corners with the last crunchy few bits of chip, he turned his now heavily-lidded eyes on her. "There's something I want to show you," he said with a warm smile.
"Better be quick," she said. "I think I'm going to need a bit of a lie down." She pattered her rounded tummy with great pleasure.
He squired her out of the restaurant and back in to the lift, sonicing the slot the droid had slipped it's strange appendage in to earlier. They were the only two in it, and as it once again ascended, Rose leaned heavily against the back panel, feeling slightly unsteady in her high heels (the only pair she'd ever owned).
The lift doors opened to let in a refreshing breeze, and they stepped out onto a rooftop garden. It was night on Venus, and the sky that before had been lavender was now the deepest royal purple, studded with stars that appeared sapphire blue through it's atmosphere. The planet Catraxus loomed large over the horizon and several moons of varying bluish hues moved overhead. She could hear other people enjoying the night air here and there, but the layout of the garden was such that little alcoves and sitting areas dominated, cut off from one another by dazzling topiary and tall hedgerows.
"It's beautiful," she sighed, as he took her arm and led her to a bench to sit.
"I thought you might like it. It's really no fun at all coming here alone. There's only so much windsurfing one can do."
She rested her head on his shoulder, taking in the view of Catraxus and it's swirling cloud formations. "You never said, before. What's the best that could happen?"
He looked down at her resting there and heaved a great sigh. "It could be wonderful," he said simply. "But...."
Rose picked her head up again and put her finger over his lips. "No. Don't you dare say 'can't' or 'shouldn't' or 'never ever.'"
"But," he stammered again.
"But, but, whatever. I don't want you to say anything. You don't have to tell me anything, or call me anything, or be any one thing to me. I love you--shut up. Don't say it. You know I do. I wouldn't do all these ridiculous things for you if I didn't. But if what you need to be happy is for me to go back home and leave you to it, well, I'll do that."
"But," he said again and then opened and shut his mouth several times.
"You sure are full of buts tonight," she gently mocked. "Or today. Whatever it is. It doesn't matter, I know what you're going to say. But I said I'd never ever leave you. And I meant that. I mean it. But you can leave me. You will, eventually. But I believe in you. I don't believe in much else, but I do believe in you. That you're good, and right, and strong and that you'll make the right choices. The Universe needs you in it, and I need you with me. And for now, we're together." She took his head in both her hands, lowered it, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "So, I'll see you later on then, after I've had a bit of a rest. Windsurfing, yeah? Sounds fantastic."
She stood from the bench and walked back to the lift, leaving the Doctor in the garden, uncharacteristically still and silent, mouth a bit ajar. In the sky above, the other seven moons of Catraxus came in to their nightly conjunction, while somewhere in the garden, a woman laughed and glasses tinkled together in a toast.
(To the Epilogue)
CHARACTERS: Ten/Rose, nothing but Ten/Rose
RATING: Teen
SPOILERS: Up to Idiots Lantern, but very nonspecifically
SUMMARY: You want talky, angsty, witty-banter Ten? You've got him. Now with 30% more romance and UST!
DISCLAIMER: Insert humorous note about how I don't own the characters nor make any money off them right here.
BETA: The lovely and talented jaradel, but at the end of the day any errors and all silliness are entirely my fault.
A/N: A sequel to Flowers on Air . Not vital to have read that, but references are made to the action in that story.
This Chapter: "You never said, before. What's the best that could happen?"
"Doctor! Why didn't you tell me it was almost up?" She flung herself in to his room and tackled him where he lay rumpled and wide-eyed on the bed.
"I lost track of time."
She lifted her head from where she'd buried it on his shoulder and laughed, a fully belly laugh. "You lost track of what?"
He just shrugged and smiled, a dimple popping out on his right cheek.
"I'd better go pack my stuff up!" Hurricane Rose jumped up again and left his room in the same flurry of flying hair and smiles and laughter as she'd entered. The Doctor gathered his jacket and coat up and put himself back together more or less. His hair was a fright, but that was nothing new. He could use a proper meal and his freckles had faded somewhat from lack of sunlight.
A hospitality droid hovered in the hallway, and when Rose reappeared there, again shouldering her rucksack, the Doctor was nonchalantly (he hoped) leaning against the wall waiting for her.
"Guests: Two. Species: human. Species: unknown," the droid intoned and turned down the hall of identical doors and into the waiting lift. When the doors closed, after Rose and the Doctor had also entered, it inserted an appendage in to a slot and Rose felt the lift begin to ascend. The silence between them was not entirely uncomfortable, but also wasn't completely without overtones of awkwardness.
"So," Rose ventured, "what d'you think our rooms will be like?"
"Oh, a bit more tailored to humanoid tastes I think. I reckon you'll like it."
The lift lurched to a halt and the doors opened on to a hallway quite unlike the one they had come from. As in the lobby, the decor was decidedly 19th century Earth, and Rose wondered just what it was about that particular time and place that lent itself to hotel decor apparently the Universe-over. The droid hovered out and they followed until it came to a stop in front of a large, dark-stained wooden door with an ornate brass handle. A drawer slid out of the droid. "Guest: one. Species: unknown. Your sonic device and room key."
The Doctor grinned as he palmed his sonic screwdriver, enjoying its weight in his hand again. As an afterthought he also grabbed a small triangular object that Rose guessed must be the key. A piece of paper shot out of the droid again. "Please take your receipt," it said. The Doctor grabbed it and with a flourish pocketed the key and soniced the door open instead.
"There we are then," he chirped as he entered.
The droid moved across the hall to an identical door and went through the same routine. "Guest: one. Species: human. Your key."
She grabbed it out of the tray but then fumbled with it, trying to work out where it went. The Doctor strode up behind her and took the hand she held it in, guiding it to the right of the door and in to a tiny slot. There was a click as the door unlatched.
"Stick with me," he whispered, "and you'll never need another key again." He tossed the screwdriver in to the air end-over-end and caught it behind his back.
"Show off," she grinned, and entered her room.
"I'll just be, you know...." He gestured to his door and began to shuffle over to it.
"Yeah," she murmured, distracted by exploring her luxury suite.
It certainly lived up to its name. Sumptuous fabrics in rich colors covered every surface, and the space was enormous with high gilt ceilings, and a large en suite with what appeared to be some sort of sauna and hot tub. What feels good to humanoids apparently doesn't change much. She'd been alone in a room enough already though, as nice as this one may have been. It was time to go have an adventure on an alien planet in the far future with her companion. Unpacking her rucksack once again, she pulled out her one and only formal dress. Purchased in order to attend a royal function of a sort on another distant planet, it was made of some kind of wrinkle-resistant fabric which she felt to be rather practical for her lifestyle. The cut was flattering but not too revealing. The Doctor may insist that not all species are as prudish as 21st century humans, but some were more so.
Rose felt it was high time to go find out about these psychic chefs. She thought about exploring her room's wet bar first, but reconsidered drinking anything potentially intoxicating without the Doctor around to taste and chemically analyze. She'd heard about strange alien aphrodisiacs hiding in innocuous-looking bottles and thought that was something she did not need in the slightest.
After smartening herself up some, she opened her door to find herself looking at the Doctor doing the exact same thing, though looking considerably less smart.
"Oh!" he squeaked. "You brought the Posh Frock."
"I did, because you are about to take me for a proper meal. I hope you've arranged for some dosh."
"Mm," he said, sonicing his door locked and then hers in turn. "All-inclusive. TARDIS is taking care of it."
"I think I fancy a drink first. They got stuff here that's not going to, like, turn me purple or in to a raving lunatic?"
They walked arm-in-arm down the hall to the lift.
~o0o~
One drink seemed to turn in to several with stern determination. The Doctor always claimed that he could catalyze or metabolize or something-ize alcohol and thus never get drunk, though Rose fancied his eyelids were drooping ever so slightly. She herself had not had enough to be drunk, but just enough to understand the phrase "liquid courage." They hadn't talked much, but the silence was comfortable and enjoyable after the experience of being able to talk all they wanted but not actually be together. The restaurant was filled and humming with mostly humanoids of varying shapes, colors and textures. To the Doctor's visible relief, no Sisters of Plenitude were in attendance. When he rested a slender hand on the table across from her, she reached out and covered it with hers, and they sat that way for a long while, watching the rest of the room go about its business.
Rose had noticed that the food to other tables was delivered by smaller versions of the hospitality droids, and when one trundled up and presented them with two trays of the most gorgeous looking fish and chips Rose had ever seen, it took her a moment to remember that they hadn't actually placed an order at any time.
"Psychic chefs!" the Doctor announced.
Seeing that they both had received the same exact meal, they grinned at each other like loons for a moment before tucking in with wild abandon. Rose had halfway devoured her meal before stopping to catch her breath.
"Why is it," she said between mouthfuls, "that aliens make the best chips?"
The Doctor wiped his mouth with a serviette. "You don't want to know, believe me."
She eyed her plate for a moment. "You're right. I don't."
For Rose, the boredom and interpersonal stress of the previous days were replaced by a warm, expansive feeling of satisfaction. The Doctor, as usual, was a cipher. His mercurial moods made it so that she could never really tell right away if he had turned on a sixpence legitimately, or was just pretending. She had considered on a number of occasions that "Oncoming Storm" referred not to his fearsome reputation as a warrior, but simply the fact that he was as changeable as the weather.
When they were finally finished filling in the corners with the last crunchy few bits of chip, he turned his now heavily-lidded eyes on her. "There's something I want to show you," he said with a warm smile.
"Better be quick," she said. "I think I'm going to need a bit of a lie down." She pattered her rounded tummy with great pleasure.
He squired her out of the restaurant and back in to the lift, sonicing the slot the droid had slipped it's strange appendage in to earlier. They were the only two in it, and as it once again ascended, Rose leaned heavily against the back panel, feeling slightly unsteady in her high heels (the only pair she'd ever owned).
The lift doors opened to let in a refreshing breeze, and they stepped out onto a rooftop garden. It was night on Venus, and the sky that before had been lavender was now the deepest royal purple, studded with stars that appeared sapphire blue through it's atmosphere. The planet Catraxus loomed large over the horizon and several moons of varying bluish hues moved overhead. She could hear other people enjoying the night air here and there, but the layout of the garden was such that little alcoves and sitting areas dominated, cut off from one another by dazzling topiary and tall hedgerows.
"It's beautiful," she sighed, as he took her arm and led her to a bench to sit.
"I thought you might like it. It's really no fun at all coming here alone. There's only so much windsurfing one can do."
She rested her head on his shoulder, taking in the view of Catraxus and it's swirling cloud formations. "You never said, before. What's the best that could happen?"
He looked down at her resting there and heaved a great sigh. "It could be wonderful," he said simply. "But...."
Rose picked her head up again and put her finger over his lips. "No. Don't you dare say 'can't' or 'shouldn't' or 'never ever.'"
"But," he stammered again.
"But, but, whatever. I don't want you to say anything. You don't have to tell me anything, or call me anything, or be any one thing to me. I love you--shut up. Don't say it. You know I do. I wouldn't do all these ridiculous things for you if I didn't. But if what you need to be happy is for me to go back home and leave you to it, well, I'll do that."
"But," he said again and then opened and shut his mouth several times.
"You sure are full of buts tonight," she gently mocked. "Or today. Whatever it is. It doesn't matter, I know what you're going to say. But I said I'd never ever leave you. And I meant that. I mean it. But you can leave me. You will, eventually. But I believe in you. I don't believe in much else, but I do believe in you. That you're good, and right, and strong and that you'll make the right choices. The Universe needs you in it, and I need you with me. And for now, we're together." She took his head in both her hands, lowered it, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "So, I'll see you later on then, after I've had a bit of a rest. Windsurfing, yeah? Sounds fantastic."
She stood from the bench and walked back to the lift, leaving the Doctor in the garden, uncharacteristically still and silent, mouth a bit ajar. In the sky above, the other seven moons of Catraxus came in to their nightly conjunction, while somewhere in the garden, a woman laughed and glasses tinkled together in a toast.
(To the Epilogue)