Deeply Rooted
Title: Deeply Rooted
Author:
silverlunarstar
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship/Fluff/Romance/Angst(tidbit)
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Word War III.
Words: 1,636
Series: The Garden 'Verse (3/??)
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
Summary: One-shot. Rose has trouble sleeping and accidentally stumbles in the garden room where she finds the Doctor staring as a sapling.
Author's Note: This was the first thing that came to mind and am quite proud of this one. Am also tempted to write several sequel drabbles.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You're stuck with me. Hah!" she'd teased, her words now echoing within her head as she tossed and turned in bed. Although she and the Doctor had come into an easy camaraderie almost from the start, her words from earlier tonight continued to niggle at her mind. She'd tried to make it about her choice (it had been her choice, even if part of her had been afraid he'd leave her stuck on Earth given half the chance), but part of her wondered if he really wanted her around. He wouldn't have practically seduced her into coming, right? The thing was, as soon as they were in the Vortex, he'd dismissed her and busied himself under the console. Rose's confidence quickly declined in her resting cycle.
Finally giving in, she stumbled out of bed, grabbed a dressing gown, and stepped out of her newly furnished (at least she knew the TARDIS was glad to have her permanently aboard) room. She was just going to go into the kitchen, 'Galley,' she corrected herself, remembering the correct term from Mickey's various sci-fi shows (okay, so she loved Star Trek just as much, so sue her little preteen self) to go make herself a cuppa. It's not her fault that the console room just so happened to be one of the places she had to pass by on her way there. It was her fault, however, when she slowed down, not hearing any tinkering going on. It wasn't her fault when her feet brought her into the main room; it was all done unconsciously, really. Peeking around, she noticed the grills were all in place. 'Where could he be?' she wondered, knowing he wasn't in his room (which was right across from hers) sleeping. After their ‘date’ at the chippy, he'd shown her to what was now her room (if the lilac walls and dark blue bedding were anything to go by as opposed to the neutral cream it'd been) and told her if she needed anything, he'd be in the console room or the library ("Which is twelve doors to the right hall"). She'd innocently asked if that's where he slept.
"Time Lords have no need for sleep," he'd replied haughtily, but had grudgingly pointed out that his was the one right across from hers. But it'd be highly unlikely she'd ever find him there, he'd warned.
Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see him, she made her way to the library, tea forgotten. Realizing she'd accidentally taken the left in her haste, she turned around to make her way back, but suddenly saw one of the doors open a crack. Never being one to let curiosity eat at her, she approached the door, giving the flower engraved on it a bemused glance before entering. Rose gasped, her nostrils flaring as she took in one of the most gorgeous sights she'd ever seen. Everywhere she looked her eyes took in a different color. The grass varied from light blue to a deep green, the sky was a burnt orange, the trees held leaves of yellow, brown-ish red, and a dark purple. She would have guessed it to be a late fall if not for the flowers that were beginning to emerge, buds of tulips, slow blooming daffodils, daisies, lilies, carnations, sunflowers, lavenders, orchids, gardenias, etc. Just about every flower she could think of (and even those she couldn't even begin to name) was here, except…
She suddenly found herself in a small section (well, small compared to the most of the enormous garden) with red grass…and not much else. It was a pretty spacious area for such a plain…plain. A few meters away Rose finally saw the Doctor. His back was to her, his head bowed, looking down at a…sapling? Slowly, she approached him.
"They were called candonwood trees," his voice startled her.
She looked at him, but he was still concentrated on the sapling.
"Candonwoods were as common as chestnut trees back on my planet."
"Is that?" she nodded towards the small plant.
"Before I…before Gallifrey was destroyed, before the war even, a friend gave me the sapling, so I'd never forget home, they said. I never got a chance to plant it." He swallowed hard. "Now I’d like nothing more than to forget."
"Don't say that!" Rose's sharp tone startled them both. She took a deep breath, held back an apology, and instead explained, "Your memories are a part of you. They may drive you to the brink, but if you forget…then Gallifrey will truly be lost." If her mother had never told her about her father, then her father would have been nothing more than another man.
Though her words brought little comfort (how he wished Gallifrey had been truly lost, him with it), her very presence soothed him, bringing back happier memories of his peaceful Academy days (though, with the mischief he and his friend would get into, there were few and far in between) of studying underneath the canopy of candonwoods. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Rose marching towards one of the small sheds. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?" he called out as she disappeared inside.
She emerged with a shovel and a couple of spades. "What type of fertilizer des the candonwood need?"
"It's the fifth one to the left. What are you-? Rose!" he cried out as she appeared again, this time dragging the huge bag of fertilizer. "Rose!" This time he's exasperated and cut her off before she could move another inch. He threw the bag over his shoulder, following a determined blonde across the lush red grass as she balanced the shovel, two spades, and sapling. He admired how careful she was, making sure she wouldn't harm it.
Finally stopping, she settled her living burden, dropped the spades a couple of feet away, and determinately embedded the shovel on a part of a dirt patch he could have sworn to have never seen before. "Here!" she declared.
He blinked.
"This is where we're gonna plant the candonwood sapling," she enunciated carefully as if speaking to a rather slow child which would have been endearing to hear her carefully clear her thick accent if in any other situation, directed at any other person than him.
"I figured out what you were up to as soon as you headed to the shed, thanks," he retorted dryly.
"Then why ask?" she shot back, tongue peaking out.
"The same reason you're doing." They looked at each other, winter blue staring right into at Earth brown, before dissolving into laughter. Once they composed themselves, the Doctor took the shovel and began to dig a hole big enough for the sapling to take root.
Without another thought, Rose took off her dressing gown and opened the bag of fertilizer, churning it with her bare hands, preparing it to help the sapling grow healthy. They worked in silence for a couple of hours. When the hole was ready, the two carefully placed the baby candonwood within before surrounding it with the fertilizer she had prepared.
Standing and dusting themselves off, they grinned widely at their accomplishment. Had Rose been looking into the Doctor's eyes, she would have seen them shine for just a second as the frost melted slightly.
"It's going to take a while before it even starts showing its leaves, isn't it?" Rose had thought it rather odd that the sapling didn't have at least one leaf sprouting from it so this was the conclusion she came to.
"Yeah, candonwood saplings take a year or so before their leaves grow with the rest of it." He doubted she'd be here that long, to see the gorgeous reflection…
Of course, Rose never followed any guidelines. "Well, until then, we have the whole garden to enjoy!" She spread her arms, spinning around once, and when she halted she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You never told me you had a garden."
He shrugged. "You never told me you gardened."
It was her turn to shrug. "Not really. When I was in the school choir we did a bit of volunteer work and one time we went to a park that was just opening on the outskirts of London to help plant some trees and flowers. The community was so thankful they asked us to perform for the summer festival." Before she knew it, they had already put the supplies away.
"I didn't know you sang."
"Used to, before…" she trailed off, not wanting to talk about her stupid phase.
Exiting the garden, he was going to either tease or ask her to sing when she cut him off.
"Doctor, why is there a rose engraved on the door?" Now she remembered why the absence of roses in the garden had struck her as odd.
He looked down at her, then at the door, his hand coming up to trace the design. "Unlike candnwoods, roses were the rarest plant on Gallifrey."
Rose's throat went dry as he carefully locked the door with his TARDIS key. They paused at her door and when he looked back down at her, his small smile turned into a full-blast smirk. "Rose?"
"Yes Doctor?" She frowned. What was he…?
"Did you just garden in your jim-jams?"
Rose looked down at her now dirty short and vest, finally feeling her itching legs. She huffed, the Doctor chortled, she smacked his arm, he whined as he rubbed it, and she opened her door, slamming it closed.
"Rose?" He waited, but there was no answer. "Good night Rose." Just before he entered his room to change out of his own filthy clothes, he heard her call out, "Good night Doctor." He smiled fully, feeling much warmer than he had in a long time, before closing his door.
Author:
silverlunarstar
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship/Fluff/Romance/Angst(tidbit)
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Word War III.
Words: 1,636
Series: The Garden 'Verse (3/??)
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
Summary: One-shot. Rose has trouble sleeping and accidentally stumbles in the garden room where she finds the Doctor staring as a sapling.
Author's Note: This was the first thing that came to mind and am quite proud of this one. Am also tempted to write several sequel drabbles.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You're stuck with me. Hah!" she'd teased, her words now echoing within her head as she tossed and turned in bed. Although she and the Doctor had come into an easy camaraderie almost from the start, her words from earlier tonight continued to niggle at her mind. She'd tried to make it about her choice (it had been her choice, even if part of her had been afraid he'd leave her stuck on Earth given half the chance), but part of her wondered if he really wanted her around. He wouldn't have practically seduced her into coming, right? The thing was, as soon as they were in the Vortex, he'd dismissed her and busied himself under the console. Rose's confidence quickly declined in her resting cycle.
Finally giving in, she stumbled out of bed, grabbed a dressing gown, and stepped out of her newly furnished (at least she knew the TARDIS was glad to have her permanently aboard) room. She was just going to go into the kitchen, 'Galley,' she corrected herself, remembering the correct term from Mickey's various sci-fi shows (okay, so she loved Star Trek just as much, so sue her little preteen self) to go make herself a cuppa. It's not her fault that the console room just so happened to be one of the places she had to pass by on her way there. It was her fault, however, when she slowed down, not hearing any tinkering going on. It wasn't her fault when her feet brought her into the main room; it was all done unconsciously, really. Peeking around, she noticed the grills were all in place. 'Where could he be?' she wondered, knowing he wasn't in his room (which was right across from hers) sleeping. After their ‘date’ at the chippy, he'd shown her to what was now her room (if the lilac walls and dark blue bedding were anything to go by as opposed to the neutral cream it'd been) and told her if she needed anything, he'd be in the console room or the library ("Which is twelve doors to the right hall"). She'd innocently asked if that's where he slept.
"Time Lords have no need for sleep," he'd replied haughtily, but had grudgingly pointed out that his was the one right across from hers. But it'd be highly unlikely she'd ever find him there, he'd warned.
Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see him, she made her way to the library, tea forgotten. Realizing she'd accidentally taken the left in her haste, she turned around to make her way back, but suddenly saw one of the doors open a crack. Never being one to let curiosity eat at her, she approached the door, giving the flower engraved on it a bemused glance before entering. Rose gasped, her nostrils flaring as she took in one of the most gorgeous sights she'd ever seen. Everywhere she looked her eyes took in a different color. The grass varied from light blue to a deep green, the sky was a burnt orange, the trees held leaves of yellow, brown-ish red, and a dark purple. She would have guessed it to be a late fall if not for the flowers that were beginning to emerge, buds of tulips, slow blooming daffodils, daisies, lilies, carnations, sunflowers, lavenders, orchids, gardenias, etc. Just about every flower she could think of (and even those she couldn't even begin to name) was here, except…
She suddenly found herself in a small section (well, small compared to the most of the enormous garden) with red grass…and not much else. It was a pretty spacious area for such a plain…plain. A few meters away Rose finally saw the Doctor. His back was to her, his head bowed, looking down at a…sapling? Slowly, she approached him.
"They were called candonwood trees," his voice startled her.
She looked at him, but he was still concentrated on the sapling.
"Candonwoods were as common as chestnut trees back on my planet."
"Is that?" she nodded towards the small plant.
"Before I…before Gallifrey was destroyed, before the war even, a friend gave me the sapling, so I'd never forget home, they said. I never got a chance to plant it." He swallowed hard. "Now I’d like nothing more than to forget."
"Don't say that!" Rose's sharp tone startled them both. She took a deep breath, held back an apology, and instead explained, "Your memories are a part of you. They may drive you to the brink, but if you forget…then Gallifrey will truly be lost." If her mother had never told her about her father, then her father would have been nothing more than another man.
Though her words brought little comfort (how he wished Gallifrey had been truly lost, him with it), her very presence soothed him, bringing back happier memories of his peaceful Academy days (though, with the mischief he and his friend would get into, there were few and far in between) of studying underneath the canopy of candonwoods. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Rose marching towards one of the small sheds. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?" he called out as she disappeared inside.
She emerged with a shovel and a couple of spades. "What type of fertilizer des the candonwood need?"
"It's the fifth one to the left. What are you-? Rose!" he cried out as she appeared again, this time dragging the huge bag of fertilizer. "Rose!" This time he's exasperated and cut her off before she could move another inch. He threw the bag over his shoulder, following a determined blonde across the lush red grass as she balanced the shovel, two spades, and sapling. He admired how careful she was, making sure she wouldn't harm it.
Finally stopping, she settled her living burden, dropped the spades a couple of feet away, and determinately embedded the shovel on a part of a dirt patch he could have sworn to have never seen before. "Here!" she declared.
He blinked.
"This is where we're gonna plant the candonwood sapling," she enunciated carefully as if speaking to a rather slow child which would have been endearing to hear her carefully clear her thick accent if in any other situation, directed at any other person than him.
"I figured out what you were up to as soon as you headed to the shed, thanks," he retorted dryly.
"Then why ask?" she shot back, tongue peaking out.
"The same reason you're doing." They looked at each other, winter blue staring right into at Earth brown, before dissolving into laughter. Once they composed themselves, the Doctor took the shovel and began to dig a hole big enough for the sapling to take root.
Without another thought, Rose took off her dressing gown and opened the bag of fertilizer, churning it with her bare hands, preparing it to help the sapling grow healthy. They worked in silence for a couple of hours. When the hole was ready, the two carefully placed the baby candonwood within before surrounding it with the fertilizer she had prepared.
Standing and dusting themselves off, they grinned widely at their accomplishment. Had Rose been looking into the Doctor's eyes, she would have seen them shine for just a second as the frost melted slightly.
"It's going to take a while before it even starts showing its leaves, isn't it?" Rose had thought it rather odd that the sapling didn't have at least one leaf sprouting from it so this was the conclusion she came to.
"Yeah, candonwood saplings take a year or so before their leaves grow with the rest of it." He doubted she'd be here that long, to see the gorgeous reflection…
Of course, Rose never followed any guidelines. "Well, until then, we have the whole garden to enjoy!" She spread her arms, spinning around once, and when she halted she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You never told me you had a garden."
He shrugged. "You never told me you gardened."
It was her turn to shrug. "Not really. When I was in the school choir we did a bit of volunteer work and one time we went to a park that was just opening on the outskirts of London to help plant some trees and flowers. The community was so thankful they asked us to perform for the summer festival." Before she knew it, they had already put the supplies away.
"I didn't know you sang."
"Used to, before…" she trailed off, not wanting to talk about her stupid phase.
Exiting the garden, he was going to either tease or ask her to sing when she cut him off.
"Doctor, why is there a rose engraved on the door?" Now she remembered why the absence of roses in the garden had struck her as odd.
He looked down at her, then at the door, his hand coming up to trace the design. "Unlike candnwoods, roses were the rarest plant on Gallifrey."
Rose's throat went dry as he carefully locked the door with his TARDIS key. They paused at her door and when he looked back down at her, his small smile turned into a full-blast smirk. "Rose?"
"Yes Doctor?" She frowned. What was he…?
"Did you just garden in your jim-jams?"
Rose looked down at her now dirty short and vest, finally feeling her itching legs. She huffed, the Doctor chortled, she smacked his arm, he whined as he rubbed it, and she opened her door, slamming it closed.
"Rose?" He waited, but there was no answer. "Good night Rose." Just before he entered his room to change out of his own filthy clothes, he heard her call out, "Good night Doctor." He smiled fully, feeling much warmer than he had in a long time, before closing his door.