(no subject)
no place like home, ten/rose, pg
The thing of it was, this was not how their relationship worked. Suddenly Valentine’s fever spread through the stars and even the TARDIS was amorously cajoled from one instance of it to another. And it was no good to have his ship taking Rose to see over and over things he could not show her, but had to give her personally.
2566
01. Ten/Rose - The Wizard of Oz
with a dash of:
03. Ten/Rose - rio de janeiro
He blamed Valentine’s Day at first. Ridiculous holiday. Ridiculous era transcending, galaxy far-reaching, all-culture encompassing holiday. Every planet in time had some version of it.
The thing of it was, this was not how their relationship worked. Suddenly Valentine’s fever spread through the stars and even the TARDIS was amorously cajoled from one instance of it to another. And it was no good to have his ship taking Rose to see over and over things he could not show her, but had to give her personally.
I might give her ideas.
It began on the funny little planet in the Boron Cluster that put on an entire theatre festival devoted to the Wizard of Oz. Watching aliens interpret and perform the play was as hilarious as he hoped. The tornado was instead a transmired subspace rupture - TSR for short and Toto was portrayed as a hemotragon, rather more like an octopus than a puppy. But Dorothy still wore glittering red shoes and the lion, the tinman and the scarecrow seemed to have remained in tact (though the Doctor suspected that was rather because they were considered to be aliens in their own right).
But then some bloke leapt up at intermission in a lion costume and proposed to his girlfriend claiming she had given him the courage to ask! And wasn’t she dressed like Dorothy?
Rose grabbed his arm, “No waaaay!” she gasped and they both laughed long and hard.
But hours later as they walked back to the ship she chewed her lip and said quietly, “Still, it was a bit romantic.”
She missed the half-frightened eyebrow lift her words elicited.
Right, he thought. Right. Onwards to the next destination! Allons-y! Rio de Janeiro! Just in time for carnivale, perhaps a little sight seeing? Sugarloaf mountain and the famous statue were still standing in 4011.
When some half-galladrien clearly lovesick bloke used a full size diamond encrusted float to propose the Doctor merely sighed and led a gawking Rose away as she exclaimed, “Blimey, are those real diamonds?”
Up, up they went to the famous statue. There he stood, the Savior, arms raised.
“You know Rose,” the Doctor said, feeling generous now that they were miles from romance, “I could tell you a few things about him...things that might surprise you.”
This particular information, that he considered to be some of the best he had, was never to be delivered. Down to his knees dropped a rather foppish, gangly fellow a few feet away in front of his girlfriend, arms raised as he declared himself. He looked rather like the statue. Did that even qualify as irony?
“What?” the Doctor exclaimed, “WHAT? You can’t be serious!”
Rose bit her lip. But, though he stuttered and seemed to catch hiccups halfway through, the foppish fellow did manage to propose and his girlfriend’s echoing shriek of happiness could be heard far and wide.
On their way back to the TARDIS later the Doctor still had not recovered, “Who proposes in front of Christ the Redeemer? It’s a giant statue of Jesus! Honestly! What is that about?”
Rose laughed heartily but next two planets they visited she spent a rather long time gazing a the local statues.
It all went decidedly awry on that little back water planet with the bar that had something akin to Karaoke. The idea had been to get a proper drink and escape all the valentine’s insanity. At first it had seemed perfect. In through the double push ‘old-timey’ cowboy doors they had walked emerging into a smoky, shadowy pub sporting some of the most unattractive aliens in the universe. Perfect.
“Here we are Rose,” he had exclaimed with cheer, “Let’s settle into a booth and I’ll see if I can get my hands on some Rylop beer - you’ll love it!”
“Did I hear that your beautiful companion’s name is Rose?” chimed an eely voice.
A blue-skinned Utarian oozed out of their periphery with a toothy smile and proferred up a beautiful red rose, “A rose for Rose,” he said with a charming accent not unlike earth Italian.
The Doctor watched in open astonishment as Rose flushed rather pink and favoured the Utarian with her very best smile. That smile was not for Utarian’s. That smile wasn’t for anyone but--well, it wasn’t to be just thrown about willy-nilly because some Utarian managed to pull out a semi-significant flower.
“Come along Rose,” he huffed, glaring daggers at the alien.
Rose flashed the Utarian an apologetic look and called out “Thanks!” over her shoulder as she was carted rather roughly away to the booth.
The Utarian had the gall to look amused and the Doctor hated him, if possible, more than moments before.
“Let me see that rose,” he commanded, yanking it from her grip, “Might be dangerous, poisoned even...”
He prodded it a bit, then tasted the petals with the tip of his tongue. Grown on Leeno. Ha! He knew it. Cheap.
Rose grabbed it back with a scowl, “Oi! It’s a rose! It isn’t dangerous! It’s beautiful! What’s gotten into you?”
The Doctor muttered some things under his breath she chose to ignore. Instead the buxom, blonde haired, violet-eyed, and rather unusually winged waitress came to take their order. Turns out there were five kinds of Rylop beer and the Doctor insisted purple was the very best one.
Back she came with two frothy purple beers. She was about to set them down when a stout, rather portly alien in a suit took the stage. He stumbled a little as he headed towards the microphone and his hands visibly shook as he took it. There were visible beads of sweat across his forehead that he hastily mopped away.
The waitress froze, staring at him transfixed. The Doctor stared impatiently at their beers and opened his mouth to say something but Rose raised a hand to stop him. She put down her flower and stood up, coming quietly to the waitresses side.
“Who is he?” she asked the waitress in that tone of voice the Doctor most admired.
The waitress sighed, “His name’s Mig. He comes in every week. He’s the nicest man...” she turned to Rose with feeling in her eyes, “Really, the nicest man I’ve ever met. He works in legal on Planag Five and fights for children’s rights. I see him on the commuter sometimes and he always offers his seat up.”
“You’ve talked to him then yeah?” Rose asked.
“A little,” the waitress blushed, “He doesn’t even know my name...”
Clearing his throat, Mig spoke quietly into the mic, “I’d like...” he muttered the name of the song so badly only the squid-like alien controlling the machine heard and started up the music. And in a rough, tone-deaf voice Mig began to sing Somewere Over the Rainbow.
The Doctor but his face in his palm, “You’ve got to be kidding me...”
The waitress’s mouth dropped open.
“What is your name?” Rose asked her.
“Dorothy,” she replied with emotion.
Rose grinned, “Guess he does know you after all then hey?”
Dorothy watched him in astonishment. Finally she recovered, “Your beers! I’m so sorry! I...”
Rose shushed her, “Never mind! I’ve got them! There we go. Go enjoy your song.”
Then she exchanged a long look with the Utarian and his basket of roses. Some kind of understanding was reached (much to the Doctor’s horror) and then the eely blue man made his way over to Dorothy, handed her a rose, said something quietly in her ear and gestured on stage to Mig.
The Doctor groaned. Rose glared at him. Mig sang on and then their eyes met. He faltered but the adoring look on Dorothy’s face seemed to grant him courage and he finished with perfect falsetto on the high note. A very happy, clumsy, affectionate moment followed his song.
Rose turned away, joined the Doctor in the booth and offered her mug, “Cheers! To romance! It’s in every corner of the universe, even this one.”
The Doctor reluctantly clinked glasses with her. She smiled over her frothy mustache at him, “Poor Doctor. It’s not for you is it? Romance?”
One eyebrow started to raise, “What’s that?” he asked.
“Romance. You don’t really get it do you? Kind of baffling for Time Lords yeah?”
He opened his mouth but she continued, reasoning, “Welll (that well sounded very like his, when had she started stealing his mannerisms?) I suppose. Time Lords know everything that is, was and might ever be. Not very romantic I guess.”
He sputtered over his beer, “You think Time Lords aren’t romantic?”
Rose looked slowly about the seedy, backwater bar for emphasis, letting her eyes remind him of various other dangerous and unromantic places they’d been together and nodded.
“That’s preposterous!” he huffed, “Time Lords practically invented romance! In fact, I’m certain we did!”
Rose did not look at the Utarian and managed to keep a straight face. The blue man, who clearly had remarkable hearing, was doubled over laughing at the door.
The Doctor stood, “Well! I will show you Rose Tyler! Wait here!”
With a last swig of purple beer he departed.
Rose smiled as he muttered to himself and pushed roughly out of the bar doors, leaving them to flap like an old western in his wake. Her Doctor, no one could say he lacked a flare for the dramatics.
The Utarian came over smiling.
“Hey mate,” she greeted, “Nicely done with Dorothy.”
He bowed, “My pleasure.”
“Know anything about Time Lords?” she asked.
He sat across from her, “Actually I do...”
When the Doctor returned approximately two hours later to find Rose and the Utarian huddled in a conspiratorial fashion in the booth, the name “oncoming storm” could suddenly be felt four quadrants in each direction (and by the civilization riding a passing meteor shower to the next galaxy).
The Utarian stiffened before looking and shivered, “Oh my, Rose Tyler, I think I had better go.”
He escaped quietly to the left and Rose coached her face to neutral.
“Doctor,” she acknowledged as he glared after the Utarian. Gary was his name. And quite a nice bloke he was, thought Rose charitably.
“Rose,” he replied, head swinging back to her, “Can’t leave you along for a minute can I? You can’t just make nice with everyone.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
“I see.”
A sort of staring contest ensued. Then the Doctor abruptly stood, “Anyway, off we go then. I have something to show you.”
He looked very determined and still rather huffy so she took his hand and smiled at him. He seemed to relax and smiled back happily, then his eyes fell to the rose she still held in the other hand and the smile melted away to muttering again and the pace towards the TARDIS visibly increased.
Once she was inside and put the rose away, she was treated with a very charming smile. A very charming smile that rolled over into a very smug smile as levers were pulled and she was cooly informed, “I will show you romance.”
Rose reflected with irony how that might have been the least romantic thing the Doctor had ever said to her. It was a threat. A promise. Revenge.
However, when they landed and he stopped at the door to let her go first, he said very quietly and sincerely, “I should have brought you here a long time ago...”
Rose opened the door and stepped out into a thick, warm, evening air. The planet was small. Small enough she could have walked around it in under an hour. There were not roads, or houses or cars. Instead the entire planet was a garden. A rose garden.
Rose bushes grew in beautiful archways and natural paths wound throughout because of the growth. The stars were out but no moon. And every rose was merely a bud. She stood frozen and the Doctor quietly joined her and whispered, “Night blooming roses. Wait, another few seconds and....”
The moon rose, high and beautiful and each rose unfurled with a little gasp of white misty seeds and the most incredible fragrance. Rose looked around her in astonishment, “Incredible! I’ve never seen roses like these before!”
Now the Doctor smiled broadly, “Oh yes you have. Wait just a moment and it will come to you.”
Rose, stopped as her hand touched that first rose and a strange look crossed her face. Then her hand went to her throat, “I...I do remember. I found one on my windowsill. I was just a teenager. Eighteen. Someone left it. It was you!”
He winked at her.
“But, but, a minute ago that wasn’t a memory...how did you?”
“I went back and did it just now. The catch up, if you time it just right it, happens as the first memory creates, so that they happen together even as they happen apart.”
He leaned closer to her and said smugly, “That is how you do romance!”
Rose tucked her tongue between her teeth and stepped towards him, “Spose it is,” she conceded, then reached for the lapels of his coat and dragged that smug mouth down for a kiss. Her hand slipped into his hair, then behind his ear, and pressed. She felt him stiffen and for one long moment he was hers, entirely. No one else, not anywhere else in time could hold him. That touch froze his time senses.
When she pulled away he stared at her rather dazed then said thickly, “How could you possibly have known about that?”
“Turns out Utarian’s know a lot about Time Lords,” she grinned at him, voice full of cheek.
He looked appropriately horrified but the time touch had left him rather too hazy to be truly appalled.
Instead he brought his hands gently to her face and touched and told her tenderly, “This, Rose Tyler, is what I hear constantly, wherever I go in time and space, simply because you exist.”
It was quiet and gentle at first. It was a song. It was the sound of her throughout her life, and it rang through the stars and he could feel it. It was incredible. Her eyes filled up and she kissed him again, only ending the music to stop time for him and really kiss.
When she pulled away a very dazed Doctor with extremely mussed hair looked ready to fall down from the effect of her.
“How much did that Utarian tell you exactly?” he asked breathlessly.
Rose only laughed and wrapped herself around him. On a planet full of roses that bloomed under the moon. With her Doctor. They sank down together under the stars and time stopped for them and because of them and Rose Tyler, with two heartbeats against her cheek thought to herself: There’s no place like home.
The thing of it was, this was not how their relationship worked. Suddenly Valentine’s fever spread through the stars and even the TARDIS was amorously cajoled from one instance of it to another. And it was no good to have his ship taking Rose to see over and over things he could not show her, but had to give her personally.
2566
01. Ten/Rose - The Wizard of Oz
with a dash of:
03. Ten/Rose - rio de janeiro
He blamed Valentine’s Day at first. Ridiculous holiday. Ridiculous era transcending, galaxy far-reaching, all-culture encompassing holiday. Every planet in time had some version of it.
The thing of it was, this was not how their relationship worked. Suddenly Valentine’s fever spread through the stars and even the TARDIS was amorously cajoled from one instance of it to another. And it was no good to have his ship taking Rose to see over and over things he could not show her, but had to give her personally.
I might give her ideas.
It began on the funny little planet in the Boron Cluster that put on an entire theatre festival devoted to the Wizard of Oz. Watching aliens interpret and perform the play was as hilarious as he hoped. The tornado was instead a transmired subspace rupture - TSR for short and Toto was portrayed as a hemotragon, rather more like an octopus than a puppy. But Dorothy still wore glittering red shoes and the lion, the tinman and the scarecrow seemed to have remained in tact (though the Doctor suspected that was rather because they were considered to be aliens in their own right).
But then some bloke leapt up at intermission in a lion costume and proposed to his girlfriend claiming she had given him the courage to ask! And wasn’t she dressed like Dorothy?
Rose grabbed his arm, “No waaaay!” she gasped and they both laughed long and hard.
But hours later as they walked back to the ship she chewed her lip and said quietly, “Still, it was a bit romantic.”
She missed the half-frightened eyebrow lift her words elicited.
Right, he thought. Right. Onwards to the next destination! Allons-y! Rio de Janeiro! Just in time for carnivale, perhaps a little sight seeing? Sugarloaf mountain and the famous statue were still standing in 4011.
When some half-galladrien clearly lovesick bloke used a full size diamond encrusted float to propose the Doctor merely sighed and led a gawking Rose away as she exclaimed, “Blimey, are those real diamonds?”
Up, up they went to the famous statue. There he stood, the Savior, arms raised.
“You know Rose,” the Doctor said, feeling generous now that they were miles from romance, “I could tell you a few things about him...things that might surprise you.”
This particular information, that he considered to be some of the best he had, was never to be delivered. Down to his knees dropped a rather foppish, gangly fellow a few feet away in front of his girlfriend, arms raised as he declared himself. He looked rather like the statue. Did that even qualify as irony?
“What?” the Doctor exclaimed, “WHAT? You can’t be serious!”
Rose bit her lip. But, though he stuttered and seemed to catch hiccups halfway through, the foppish fellow did manage to propose and his girlfriend’s echoing shriek of happiness could be heard far and wide.
On their way back to the TARDIS later the Doctor still had not recovered, “Who proposes in front of Christ the Redeemer? It’s a giant statue of Jesus! Honestly! What is that about?”
Rose laughed heartily but next two planets they visited she spent a rather long time gazing a the local statues.
It all went decidedly awry on that little back water planet with the bar that had something akin to Karaoke. The idea had been to get a proper drink and escape all the valentine’s insanity. At first it had seemed perfect. In through the double push ‘old-timey’ cowboy doors they had walked emerging into a smoky, shadowy pub sporting some of the most unattractive aliens in the universe. Perfect.
“Here we are Rose,” he had exclaimed with cheer, “Let’s settle into a booth and I’ll see if I can get my hands on some Rylop beer - you’ll love it!”
“Did I hear that your beautiful companion’s name is Rose?” chimed an eely voice.
A blue-skinned Utarian oozed out of their periphery with a toothy smile and proferred up a beautiful red rose, “A rose for Rose,” he said with a charming accent not unlike earth Italian.
The Doctor watched in open astonishment as Rose flushed rather pink and favoured the Utarian with her very best smile. That smile was not for Utarian’s. That smile wasn’t for anyone but--well, it wasn’t to be just thrown about willy-nilly because some Utarian managed to pull out a semi-significant flower.
“Come along Rose,” he huffed, glaring daggers at the alien.
Rose flashed the Utarian an apologetic look and called out “Thanks!” over her shoulder as she was carted rather roughly away to the booth.
The Utarian had the gall to look amused and the Doctor hated him, if possible, more than moments before.
“Let me see that rose,” he commanded, yanking it from her grip, “Might be dangerous, poisoned even...”
He prodded it a bit, then tasted the petals with the tip of his tongue. Grown on Leeno. Ha! He knew it. Cheap.
Rose grabbed it back with a scowl, “Oi! It’s a rose! It isn’t dangerous! It’s beautiful! What’s gotten into you?”
The Doctor muttered some things under his breath she chose to ignore. Instead the buxom, blonde haired, violet-eyed, and rather unusually winged waitress came to take their order. Turns out there were five kinds of Rylop beer and the Doctor insisted purple was the very best one.
Back she came with two frothy purple beers. She was about to set them down when a stout, rather portly alien in a suit took the stage. He stumbled a little as he headed towards the microphone and his hands visibly shook as he took it. There were visible beads of sweat across his forehead that he hastily mopped away.
The waitress froze, staring at him transfixed. The Doctor stared impatiently at their beers and opened his mouth to say something but Rose raised a hand to stop him. She put down her flower and stood up, coming quietly to the waitresses side.
“Who is he?” she asked the waitress in that tone of voice the Doctor most admired.
The waitress sighed, “His name’s Mig. He comes in every week. He’s the nicest man...” she turned to Rose with feeling in her eyes, “Really, the nicest man I’ve ever met. He works in legal on Planag Five and fights for children’s rights. I see him on the commuter sometimes and he always offers his seat up.”
“You’ve talked to him then yeah?” Rose asked.
“A little,” the waitress blushed, “He doesn’t even know my name...”
Clearing his throat, Mig spoke quietly into the mic, “I’d like...” he muttered the name of the song so badly only the squid-like alien controlling the machine heard and started up the music. And in a rough, tone-deaf voice Mig began to sing Somewere Over the Rainbow.
The Doctor but his face in his palm, “You’ve got to be kidding me...”
The waitress’s mouth dropped open.
“What is your name?” Rose asked her.
“Dorothy,” she replied with emotion.
Rose grinned, “Guess he does know you after all then hey?”
Dorothy watched him in astonishment. Finally she recovered, “Your beers! I’m so sorry! I...”
Rose shushed her, “Never mind! I’ve got them! There we go. Go enjoy your song.”
Then she exchanged a long look with the Utarian and his basket of roses. Some kind of understanding was reached (much to the Doctor’s horror) and then the eely blue man made his way over to Dorothy, handed her a rose, said something quietly in her ear and gestured on stage to Mig.
The Doctor groaned. Rose glared at him. Mig sang on and then their eyes met. He faltered but the adoring look on Dorothy’s face seemed to grant him courage and he finished with perfect falsetto on the high note. A very happy, clumsy, affectionate moment followed his song.
Rose turned away, joined the Doctor in the booth and offered her mug, “Cheers! To romance! It’s in every corner of the universe, even this one.”
The Doctor reluctantly clinked glasses with her. She smiled over her frothy mustache at him, “Poor Doctor. It’s not for you is it? Romance?”
One eyebrow started to raise, “What’s that?” he asked.
“Romance. You don’t really get it do you? Kind of baffling for Time Lords yeah?”
He opened his mouth but she continued, reasoning, “Welll (that well sounded very like his, when had she started stealing his mannerisms?) I suppose. Time Lords know everything that is, was and might ever be. Not very romantic I guess.”
He sputtered over his beer, “You think Time Lords aren’t romantic?”
Rose looked slowly about the seedy, backwater bar for emphasis, letting her eyes remind him of various other dangerous and unromantic places they’d been together and nodded.
“That’s preposterous!” he huffed, “Time Lords practically invented romance! In fact, I’m certain we did!”
Rose did not look at the Utarian and managed to keep a straight face. The blue man, who clearly had remarkable hearing, was doubled over laughing at the door.
The Doctor stood, “Well! I will show you Rose Tyler! Wait here!”
With a last swig of purple beer he departed.
Rose smiled as he muttered to himself and pushed roughly out of the bar doors, leaving them to flap like an old western in his wake. Her Doctor, no one could say he lacked a flare for the dramatics.
The Utarian came over smiling.
“Hey mate,” she greeted, “Nicely done with Dorothy.”
He bowed, “My pleasure.”
“Know anything about Time Lords?” she asked.
He sat across from her, “Actually I do...”
When the Doctor returned approximately two hours later to find Rose and the Utarian huddled in a conspiratorial fashion in the booth, the name “oncoming storm” could suddenly be felt four quadrants in each direction (and by the civilization riding a passing meteor shower to the next galaxy).
The Utarian stiffened before looking and shivered, “Oh my, Rose Tyler, I think I had better go.”
He escaped quietly to the left and Rose coached her face to neutral.
“Doctor,” she acknowledged as he glared after the Utarian. Gary was his name. And quite a nice bloke he was, thought Rose charitably.
“Rose,” he replied, head swinging back to her, “Can’t leave you along for a minute can I? You can’t just make nice with everyone.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
“I see.”
A sort of staring contest ensued. Then the Doctor abruptly stood, “Anyway, off we go then. I have something to show you.”
He looked very determined and still rather huffy so she took his hand and smiled at him. He seemed to relax and smiled back happily, then his eyes fell to the rose she still held in the other hand and the smile melted away to muttering again and the pace towards the TARDIS visibly increased.
Once she was inside and put the rose away, she was treated with a very charming smile. A very charming smile that rolled over into a very smug smile as levers were pulled and she was cooly informed, “I will show you romance.”
Rose reflected with irony how that might have been the least romantic thing the Doctor had ever said to her. It was a threat. A promise. Revenge.
However, when they landed and he stopped at the door to let her go first, he said very quietly and sincerely, “I should have brought you here a long time ago...”
Rose opened the door and stepped out into a thick, warm, evening air. The planet was small. Small enough she could have walked around it in under an hour. There were not roads, or houses or cars. Instead the entire planet was a garden. A rose garden.
Rose bushes grew in beautiful archways and natural paths wound throughout because of the growth. The stars were out but no moon. And every rose was merely a bud. She stood frozen and the Doctor quietly joined her and whispered, “Night blooming roses. Wait, another few seconds and....”
The moon rose, high and beautiful and each rose unfurled with a little gasp of white misty seeds and the most incredible fragrance. Rose looked around her in astonishment, “Incredible! I’ve never seen roses like these before!”
Now the Doctor smiled broadly, “Oh yes you have. Wait just a moment and it will come to you.”
Rose, stopped as her hand touched that first rose and a strange look crossed her face. Then her hand went to her throat, “I...I do remember. I found one on my windowsill. I was just a teenager. Eighteen. Someone left it. It was you!”
He winked at her.
“But, but, a minute ago that wasn’t a memory...how did you?”
“I went back and did it just now. The catch up, if you time it just right it, happens as the first memory creates, so that they happen together even as they happen apart.”
He leaned closer to her and said smugly, “That is how you do romance!”
Rose tucked her tongue between her teeth and stepped towards him, “Spose it is,” she conceded, then reached for the lapels of his coat and dragged that smug mouth down for a kiss. Her hand slipped into his hair, then behind his ear, and pressed. She felt him stiffen and for one long moment he was hers, entirely. No one else, not anywhere else in time could hold him. That touch froze his time senses.
When she pulled away he stared at her rather dazed then said thickly, “How could you possibly have known about that?”
“Turns out Utarian’s know a lot about Time Lords,” she grinned at him, voice full of cheek.
He looked appropriately horrified but the time touch had left him rather too hazy to be truly appalled.
Instead he brought his hands gently to her face and touched and told her tenderly, “This, Rose Tyler, is what I hear constantly, wherever I go in time and space, simply because you exist.”
It was quiet and gentle at first. It was a song. It was the sound of her throughout her life, and it rang through the stars and he could feel it. It was incredible. Her eyes filled up and she kissed him again, only ending the music to stop time for him and really kiss.
When she pulled away a very dazed Doctor with extremely mussed hair looked ready to fall down from the effect of her.
“How much did that Utarian tell you exactly?” he asked breathlessly.
Rose only laughed and wrapped herself around him. On a planet full of roses that bloomed under the moon. With her Doctor. They sank down together under the stars and time stopped for them and because of them and Rose Tyler, with two heartbeats against her cheek thought to herself: There’s no place like home.