(no subject)
That Open Secret, Rose/Nine, G, 583 words
They go out for chips seventeen times before Rose finally admits what her Mum, Mickey, and every random person they pass on the street have all apparently been able to tell since that very first time they’d done it, after she’d just seen the destruction of her world.
They go out for chips seventeen times before Rose finally admits what her Mum, Mickey, and every random person they pass on the street have all apparently been able to tell since that very first time they’d done it, after she’d just seen the destruction of her world.
She and the Doctor - the same Doctor who complains about ‘domestic’ as if it’s a particularly foul word, and treats her humanity and the feelings and hormones and such that come along with it a little bit like something infectious - actually seem to be dating.
The moment of realisation comes as their hands brush when they both reach for a chip. It’s like something straight out of one of the Disney films she’d loved when she was younger (and still does, if she’s honest). Their eyes meet and linger for a long moment until they break the strange tension by bursting out laughing. As they each pull away from the gentle touch, the Doctor claims the chip they’d both been aiming for and pops it into his mouth with pointed relish, as if he’s earned some kind of victory. Rose remembers a very similar moment between her and Mickey, which had been swiftly followed by a kiss born of familiarity and affection. The press of lips and the hands running over her hips that had happened then with Mickey obviously don’t eventuate again now, but Rose definitely feels the lack of it.
The vibe bouncing around between them isn’t just friendship. Or, at least, it’s not just that for her part. She has no idea when things changed, or whether maybe it’s always been this way and she just hasn’t realised it before, but she can hardly deny it now.
She thinks about letting him in on the open secret. Then she remembers how he rolls his eyes as if she’s being childish every time she so much as looks at a man, and she thinks better of it. He’d never think of her that way. She’s not even sure he’d ever really think about anyone like that, flirtation with random tree women aside. She thinks that she’s been with him long enough by now to conclude that he’s just not the type.
“What?” he asks, and Rose realises she’s been staring at him.
“Nothin’,” she says perhaps a little too quickly. He doesn’t look as though he buys that answer. He lets it pass, though, probably filing it away to bring up later when the TARDIS is acting up and he feels like having a good long rant. She realises that she won’t even mind when he does. She actually sort of likes his rants.
If she even needs any more proof that she’s fallen hard, there it is.
The Doctor holds out his hand, and for the first time ever Rose finds herself hesitating for a moment to take it, recalling how her heartbeat had raced the last time their fingers touched. That’s when she knows for sure that she’s right not to tell him. If just her knowledge is enough to have an effect, then she can’t imagine how much worse his reaction if he knows will make things.
What if he decides it’s too complicated - too human - and leaves her behind? She’s not willing to risk that.
So she takes his hand, hoping he hasn’t noticed the brief uncertainty, and lets him lead her back to that mad life on the TARDIS.
It will have to be enough for her.
~FIN~
They go out for chips seventeen times before Rose finally admits what her Mum, Mickey, and every random person they pass on the street have all apparently been able to tell since that very first time they’d done it, after she’d just seen the destruction of her world.
They go out for chips seventeen times before Rose finally admits what her Mum, Mickey, and every random person they pass on the street have all apparently been able to tell since that very first time they’d done it, after she’d just seen the destruction of her world.
She and the Doctor - the same Doctor who complains about ‘domestic’ as if it’s a particularly foul word, and treats her humanity and the feelings and hormones and such that come along with it a little bit like something infectious - actually seem to be dating.
The moment of realisation comes as their hands brush when they both reach for a chip. It’s like something straight out of one of the Disney films she’d loved when she was younger (and still does, if she’s honest). Their eyes meet and linger for a long moment until they break the strange tension by bursting out laughing. As they each pull away from the gentle touch, the Doctor claims the chip they’d both been aiming for and pops it into his mouth with pointed relish, as if he’s earned some kind of victory. Rose remembers a very similar moment between her and Mickey, which had been swiftly followed by a kiss born of familiarity and affection. The press of lips and the hands running over her hips that had happened then with Mickey obviously don’t eventuate again now, but Rose definitely feels the lack of it.
The vibe bouncing around between them isn’t just friendship. Or, at least, it’s not just that for her part. She has no idea when things changed, or whether maybe it’s always been this way and she just hasn’t realised it before, but she can hardly deny it now.
She thinks about letting him in on the open secret. Then she remembers how he rolls his eyes as if she’s being childish every time she so much as looks at a man, and she thinks better of it. He’d never think of her that way. She’s not even sure he’d ever really think about anyone like that, flirtation with random tree women aside. She thinks that she’s been with him long enough by now to conclude that he’s just not the type.
“What?” he asks, and Rose realises she’s been staring at him.
“Nothin’,” she says perhaps a little too quickly. He doesn’t look as though he buys that answer. He lets it pass, though, probably filing it away to bring up later when the TARDIS is acting up and he feels like having a good long rant. She realises that she won’t even mind when he does. She actually sort of likes his rants.
If she even needs any more proof that she’s fallen hard, there it is.
The Doctor holds out his hand, and for the first time ever Rose finds herself hesitating for a moment to take it, recalling how her heartbeat had raced the last time their fingers touched. That’s when she knows for sure that she’s right not to tell him. If just her knowledge is enough to have an effect, then she can’t imagine how much worse his reaction if he knows will make things.
What if he decides it’s too complicated - too human - and leaves her behind? She’s not willing to risk that.
So she takes his hand, hoping he hasn’t noticed the brief uncertainty, and lets him lead her back to that mad life on the TARDIS.
It will have to be enough for her.
~FIN~