Timelines and Tea (1/1)
Title: Timelines and Tea
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Doctor/Romana II, (Rose and Martha mentioned in passing)
Spoilers: None
Summary: It’s rather infuriating when someone insists you don’t exist.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. I didn’t get it for Christmas either sigh. Maybe my birthday?
Timelines and Tea
i)
The first thing that surprised her was that she was alive at all.
The second was that she hadn’t regenerated.
It was entirely luck that an almost functioning TARDIS happened to be fifty feet away from her. That was quite surprising too, but Romana really didn’t want to let these things go to her head. Besides, it was rather obvious she would have to spend at least ten years repairing it; and she was still unsure how hospitable the locals were.
Thankfully, the locals were hospitable and the years sped by. The only problems that seemed to arise were the increasingly frequent invasions of Tremaka by hostile forces and that always slowed down TARDIS reparations quite considerably. As did bouts of incredible loneliness; times when all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wish you had burned with the rest of your planet. But still, life goes on. She still had 11 more regenerations, through something of a miracle and a chance to explore again. Perhaps running, like the Doctor always used to, would quench the pain a little?
She ran into the Doctor, almost literally.
The only part that surprised her about that was his survival, too. He had regenerated though. She had been visiting Earth after the twelve years of reparations, for old time’s sake. Of all the places to run into him, well. It was his favourite planet after all. She could feel the blood draining from her face, and for once, was at a loss for words. Time seemed to stop for an eternity for the two Time Lords; before the Doctor, rather stubbornly broke the silence.
“No, you’re not real. Like the last time. And the time before that.” His voice wobbled slightly. “I’m going to find Martha Jones. My companion. I know she’s real.”
He turned tail, and soon melted away into the crowd. Romana had tried to keep up, quite desperately. It seemed that whatever his regeneration, he had longer legs than her. This meant, when he really wanted to, like on this busy London street, it was incredibly easy to lose him.
Not real indeed. She’d show him. At least she was feeling somewhat more purposeful now.
Even if her nerves were altogether more frayed. A cup of tea was in order.
ii)
This time, Romana noted, The Doctor was gawping at her.
She figured that this was obviously the first time he had seen her, therefore the pin-striped, spiky haired incarnation she had seen a year earlier (her relative time) must be a latter incarnation. He really did rattle through regenerations like people changed their clothes. Still, she should be counting her blessings; not having regenerated since her second century. And that was by choice.
“You can’t be real.” He breathed. “You’re just a figment of my imagination.”
“Now, Doctor, that is utterly preposterous-”
“You died. In the Time War.” Tears were nearly spilling out of his blue eyes. “You’re dead, Romana.”
“Oh for Rassilon’s sake.” She grumbled. “I find a cup of tea helps. From Earth, preferably.”
There was no point reasoning with him if he wasn’t going to accept the blindingly obvious.
Besides, if she remembered correctly, to prevent a temporal paradox, she had to visit him one more time before he would even begin accepting she was real.
iii)
Her TARDIS, as she liked to think of it now, was really beginning to run out of steam. It was only a Mk23 and not really suited to the demands she put onto it, after all. And the poor thing was really getting quite dilapidated now. And to think it was one of the last two examples in the universe, but still she was trying her best. There was the chance of them breeding if the Doctor would let her near his in time, but he was still convinced she was imaginary, and at this rate she was lucky if she landed in the same continent.
But that’s what you get for chasing a vintage vehicle with an even older one, she supposed.
When the Doctor spotted her across the snowy, Cardiff street, he assumed he was being chased by ghosts.
Besides, this was Rose’s first trip to the past. Even if he and the TARDIS had stuffed it up.
As she approached two steps towards him, he grabbed Rose’s hand, a newspaper, and headed towards the theatre where Dickens would be reading from ‘A Christmas Carol’.
Romana decided at this point, it wasn’t worth talking to the leather-clad git and his bleach-blonde companion anyway. He’d find out about the Gelth invasion by himself. And probably cause that explosion she’d read about before exiting her TARDIS.
And he really wouldn’t notice if she impregnated his either.
Besides, who used Cardiff to refuel when there was a perfectly good rift in Paris?
iv)
Speaking of refuelling, the next time she does so, it goes a little wrong.
The right place - certainly, just the wrong time.
They always taught strenuously that under no circumstances you should never cross your own Time Line in the Academy.
And that’s exactly what she did. Paris had been easy enough. But why 1979? She was getting as unreliable as the Doctor. A bad craftswoman blamed it on her tools, so Romana certainly wasn’t going to blame her TARDIS which was currently assuming the form of a dustbin. That would certainly make it interesting for passers by when she decided it was time to leave.
Still she only had to avoid him and herself for twenty-four hours.
It would have been easier to remain in the TARDIS whilst he recharged. But Paris was nice. She would much rather absorb the culture (again).
The time jumps were a lot more unpleasant a second time round; but then again she had travelled through the time and space continuum a lot more than last time. And there were a couple of close calls. Inside the Louvre, near that little café where last time she had water, this time tea - she was getting older, along the Seine. Okay, so maybe more than a couple but she was generally doing a good job at keeping out of sight. Well, the Doctor and her earlier self (good grief, she looked so much younger back then and it was such a strange experience seeing the back of one’s head too) hadn’t spotted her. Yet.
It was near the Eiffel tower, she had wanted just one last view before heading off to pastures new when she heard familiar voices.
“You know Romana.” The rich voice had never left her. “I get the feeling that someone is walking over my grave.”
“Whatever is that supposed to mean, Doctor?”
Romana had found she missed the Doctor with the curly hair and the manic smile when she heard herself speak and then caught her gaze.
Did she really sound like that? And a lot of things were not good about this. Paradoxes for one. Leaving would be an entirely good idea.
“You know,” The school uniform clad, younger Romana turned to her companion. “I think I know what you mean now.”
v)
She was getting tired of this and was certain her TARDIS was too. In some ways, she thought it may be easier just to give up and settle down somewhere.
When she landed at random, it amused her somewhat to find the Doctor’s TARDIS, in its reassuringly familiar blue police box form parked beside hers.
“Now,” The Doctor addressed her directly. “I don’t know what you are, but if you’re a figment of my imagination, I’d rather appreciate it if you leave me alone.”
Romana had had quite enough of this, and this incarnation with the billowing coat and the doe eyes was proving to be rather infuriating. Yes, he was clever; yes he had saved this universe multiple times. But he was really, really good at ignoring the blindingly obvious.
That was rather cathartic. And quite a shock to him, obviously. Slapping him was probably something he would have expected of her previous body.
Totally abandoning all inhibitions now, lightening fast, she snaked her hands behind his head, was on her toes and brushed her lips delicately against his. Something felt so right about the milliseconds of contact, the taste, the touch, the scent. The feel of his two heartbeats so close to hers…
He obviously wanted more, but just as quick as she had initiated the moment, she let it go.
“Hello, Romana.”
“Hello.”