11 Reasons, #06 - 11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself (Doctor Who)
Title: 11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself
Author: Wish Wielder
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing / Character Focus: Doctor x Rose
Challenge: 11 Reasons
Theme / Prompt: #2.20 (Silliness / Crazy)
Word Count: N/A
Rating: T / PG-13
Summary: It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place. But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.
Notes: Set during both S1 & S2, and S3-after. Also: unlike my other thememunity challenges, this fic goes together as one fic. The chapters are related, even if they don’t entirely seem it.
Disclaimer: “Doctor Who” and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own “Doctor Who”.
11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself
Chapter Six: She Laughed, and He Remembered Joy
He’s always considered himself brilliant, but this is topping his charts. Looking at the CD in his hand, he immediately writes off the pun; this regeneration seems to have a tendency for them. He twirls the CD around, hiding his grin as he walks around the controls and towards Rose, who’s stuffing something into that old knapsack of hers. He glances at her as she kicks it under the console and stands, straightening her skirt. She turns to him and gives him a nervous smile, and he looks down as if he hadn’t been looking in the first place.
He’s found himself doing that a lot lately.
“What do you think of this - will it do?” she asks, and he looks up to give her a quick scrutinizing glance. He pauses only a moment, too short for her to think any of it, and looks back to the CD as he passes her.
“For the late 1970s? You’d be better off in a bin bag,” he tells her, and though he doesn’t look he can imagine the look on her face. Part amused, part uncertain - she never can quite figure out whether he’s teasing or not. He thinks that might be why it’s so much fun. “Hold on, listen to this.”
He puts the CD in the player, and the rotor starts pulsing as music sounds from the speakers. For a moment he considers turning it up; he feels it should be louder. His mind flashes back to a night not really so long ago, when Glenn Miller had blared from the same speakers. Loud notes and catchy tunes, and he had twirled her ‘round the console like she was the only one in the universe. Moved by jealousy of a gerbil who later proved his worth, but still…that moment had been theirs. He wonders if maybe she’d care to share another dance with him, but as soon as the thought comes he lets it pass and continues his trek around the controls.
They’ll have plenty of time for dancing when they reach their destination, anyway.
“Ian Dury and the Blockheads - number one in 1979,” he says. She starts to walk towards him, and he keeps moving, flipping switches and turning knobs to enter the coordinates needed.
“You’re a punk!” she laughs, but he’s not quite paying attention. He’s always liked this song, more so this time around. “It’s good to be a lunatic…” “That’s what you are. A big old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in.”
He grins at that, imagining himself with Billy Ray Cyrus’s mullet and too much mascara. Achey Breakey Heart, indeed!
“Wanna go see him?” he asks, looking up at the rotor as the TARDIS hums, sounding more like a laugh. His lips twitch up as he pats a bit of the console, and he makes a mental note to play Ian Dury more often.
“How’d you mean?” she asks him, looking surprised. “In concert?”
“What else is a TARDIS for?” he asks, twirling as they go into a little dance. It’s not Glenn Miller, but this him thinks that maybe it’s just a bit better. More teasing, and just them, even if before it was just them, too (no Gerbil at the door, and while a part of him misses the Gerbil he likes it just them again, the old team). He grins as he sees her shake in response to his twirl, and it’s all he can do to keep from laughing. This him, when it came down to it, is just plain silly - and she likes it. He thinks he does, too.
“I can take you to the Battle of Trafalgar, the first anti-gravity Olympics…” he lists, continuing his stroll around the controls. The TARDIS hums at him, and again he nearly laughs as he realizes how much she enjoys the idea of a concert over battles and sporting events, too. That’s his girl! “…Caesar crossing the Rubicon, or…”
He looks over at her, smiling at the amused grin she was giving him. He wonders when he started doing things just to see that smile. The part of his mind that speaks in a Northern accent tells him it was around “Better with two.”
“Ian Dury at the Top Rank, Sheffield, England, Earth, twenty-first November, 1979 - what do you think?” he asks, stopping just across from her. She stops, pausing for a moment to look like she’s seriously considering it - he already knows she’ll agree - before tapping her hand against the console’s rim.
“Sheffield it is,” she says, and he could laugh at how simple she makes it sound. It only figures - he offers her all of time and space, and instead of something great and historic like the Battle of Trafalgar she agrees to an Ian Dury concert. He knew there was a reason he lov…liked her so much.
Really, he had to stop doing that…
“Hold on tight,” he says, releasing the handbrake. The TARDIS shudders around them, a violent jerk that sends them both flying towards the console and each other. He sends a look to the rotor as he hears her amused hums in the background, but he can’t bring himself to be cross with her. He rather likes the way Rose brushes against him as they right themselves. All the same, he takes another step away before his mind can think up any more crazy ideas and grabs the mallet.
There’s no need for it, and he wonders if Rose realizes that as he begins to tap different parts of the controls. He sees the quirk of her brow, the knowing smile on her lips, and he thinks she just might. He taps the console again, keeping perfect time with the music despite the shaking, and she mouths along with the music: “It’s good to be a lunatic!” He doesn’t point out that she’s a bit late in the song for the line; he catches the glint in her eye and realizes she knows. She’s teasing, as he often does. He grins and begins hitting the console again, and with a violent jerk that nearly sends their heads crashing through the central column the TARDIS comes to a halt - just as Rose cries “Stop!” They fall back, and for some reason he can’t contain the laughter that’s been bubbling in him since she first woke up that morning (well, whatever accounts for morning in the TARDIS, at least).
He’s flat on his back, his legs and arms tucked up to break his fall. His head’s thrown back against the grating, but he doesn’t worry about the bump he knows he’ll have in an hour’s time. He’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and as her peals cut across his ears he glances over to her, and while she keeps laughing he stops. Her eyes are closed, that smile he loves so much splitting her face as her giggles shake her body, and for a moment he’s lost in that look of sheer joy spread across her face.
It’s just a bumpy landing and a silly song, something that’s really nothing. Typical for them in their crazy, hectic lives, but all the same it makes her smile and laugh like it’s new every time. And she stops laughing to look at him, and for a second - just a second, but a second that feels so much longer than it really is - they’re frozen in that moment, lying on the grated floor and looking at each other and smiling and suddenly his heart swells with an emotion he refuses to name, and all for her. Her eyes twinkle at him, and he can’t remember the last time he felt more alive and so very, very…happy.
Happy?
Yes, happy. He’s happy, and it’s all because of the human girl lying across from him. All because of Rose and how she laughs and lives and blimey, isn’t she just gorgeous with her cheeks the color of her namesake?
But he recognizes the path his mind is taking - one it’s been wandering closer and closer to since, and really even before, his regeneration - and he shoves it aside. Right now he feels alive and happier than he can ever remember being, and right now he wants to share it with her. He can think on the complicated matters later - right now, they have Ian Dury to see.
“1979 - hell of a year!”
A.n.: I’m terribly sorry this’s taken so long to get out; life’s been a bit hectic at the mo, plus I’ve been working on Aku’s (very very very) late birthday gift, which just doesn’t seem to want to be finished like…ever. Dx Thanks to all who’ve stuck with this - y’all rock so much. P.s.: this follows Theme 20 from Table 2 (silliness/crazy).
Previous Chapters
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four - Pt. 1, Pt. 2 | Chapter Five
Author: Wish Wielder
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing / Character Focus: Doctor x Rose
Challenge: 11 Reasons
Theme / Prompt: #2.20 (Silliness / Crazy)
Word Count: N/A
Rating: T / PG-13
Summary: It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place. But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.
Notes: Set during both S1 & S2, and S3-after. Also: unlike my other thememunity challenges, this fic goes together as one fic. The chapters are related, even if they don’t entirely seem it.
Disclaimer: “Doctor Who” and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own “Doctor Who”.
11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself
Chapter Six: She Laughed, and He Remembered Joy
He’s always considered himself brilliant, but this is topping his charts. Looking at the CD in his hand, he immediately writes off the pun; this regeneration seems to have a tendency for them. He twirls the CD around, hiding his grin as he walks around the controls and towards Rose, who’s stuffing something into that old knapsack of hers. He glances at her as she kicks it under the console and stands, straightening her skirt. She turns to him and gives him a nervous smile, and he looks down as if he hadn’t been looking in the first place.
He’s found himself doing that a lot lately.
“What do you think of this - will it do?” she asks, and he looks up to give her a quick scrutinizing glance. He pauses only a moment, too short for her to think any of it, and looks back to the CD as he passes her.
“For the late 1970s? You’d be better off in a bin bag,” he tells her, and though he doesn’t look he can imagine the look on her face. Part amused, part uncertain - she never can quite figure out whether he’s teasing or not. He thinks that might be why it’s so much fun. “Hold on, listen to this.”
He puts the CD in the player, and the rotor starts pulsing as music sounds from the speakers. For a moment he considers turning it up; he feels it should be louder. His mind flashes back to a night not really so long ago, when Glenn Miller had blared from the same speakers. Loud notes and catchy tunes, and he had twirled her ‘round the console like she was the only one in the universe. Moved by jealousy of a gerbil who later proved his worth, but still…that moment had been theirs. He wonders if maybe she’d care to share another dance with him, but as soon as the thought comes he lets it pass and continues his trek around the controls.
They’ll have plenty of time for dancing when they reach their destination, anyway.
“Ian Dury and the Blockheads - number one in 1979,” he says. She starts to walk towards him, and he keeps moving, flipping switches and turning knobs to enter the coordinates needed.
“You’re a punk!” she laughs, but he’s not quite paying attention. He’s always liked this song, more so this time around. “It’s good to be a lunatic…” “That’s what you are. A big old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in.”
He grins at that, imagining himself with Billy Ray Cyrus’s mullet and too much mascara. Achey Breakey Heart, indeed!
“Wanna go see him?” he asks, looking up at the rotor as the TARDIS hums, sounding more like a laugh. His lips twitch up as he pats a bit of the console, and he makes a mental note to play Ian Dury more often.
“How’d you mean?” she asks him, looking surprised. “In concert?”
“What else is a TARDIS for?” he asks, twirling as they go into a little dance. It’s not Glenn Miller, but this him thinks that maybe it’s just a bit better. More teasing, and just them, even if before it was just them, too (no Gerbil at the door, and while a part of him misses the Gerbil he likes it just them again, the old team). He grins as he sees her shake in response to his twirl, and it’s all he can do to keep from laughing. This him, when it came down to it, is just plain silly - and she likes it. He thinks he does, too.
“I can take you to the Battle of Trafalgar, the first anti-gravity Olympics…” he lists, continuing his stroll around the controls. The TARDIS hums at him, and again he nearly laughs as he realizes how much she enjoys the idea of a concert over battles and sporting events, too. That’s his girl! “…Caesar crossing the Rubicon, or…”
He looks over at her, smiling at the amused grin she was giving him. He wonders when he started doing things just to see that smile. The part of his mind that speaks in a Northern accent tells him it was around “Better with two.”
“Ian Dury at the Top Rank, Sheffield, England, Earth, twenty-first November, 1979 - what do you think?” he asks, stopping just across from her. She stops, pausing for a moment to look like she’s seriously considering it - he already knows she’ll agree - before tapping her hand against the console’s rim.
“Sheffield it is,” she says, and he could laugh at how simple she makes it sound. It only figures - he offers her all of time and space, and instead of something great and historic like the Battle of Trafalgar she agrees to an Ian Dury concert. He knew there was a reason he lov…liked her so much.
Really, he had to stop doing that…
“Hold on tight,” he says, releasing the handbrake. The TARDIS shudders around them, a violent jerk that sends them both flying towards the console and each other. He sends a look to the rotor as he hears her amused hums in the background, but he can’t bring himself to be cross with her. He rather likes the way Rose brushes against him as they right themselves. All the same, he takes another step away before his mind can think up any more crazy ideas and grabs the mallet.
There’s no need for it, and he wonders if Rose realizes that as he begins to tap different parts of the controls. He sees the quirk of her brow, the knowing smile on her lips, and he thinks she just might. He taps the console again, keeping perfect time with the music despite the shaking, and she mouths along with the music: “It’s good to be a lunatic!” He doesn’t point out that she’s a bit late in the song for the line; he catches the glint in her eye and realizes she knows. She’s teasing, as he often does. He grins and begins hitting the console again, and with a violent jerk that nearly sends their heads crashing through the central column the TARDIS comes to a halt - just as Rose cries “Stop!” They fall back, and for some reason he can’t contain the laughter that’s been bubbling in him since she first woke up that morning (well, whatever accounts for morning in the TARDIS, at least).
He’s flat on his back, his legs and arms tucked up to break his fall. His head’s thrown back against the grating, but he doesn’t worry about the bump he knows he’ll have in an hour’s time. He’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and as her peals cut across his ears he glances over to her, and while she keeps laughing he stops. Her eyes are closed, that smile he loves so much splitting her face as her giggles shake her body, and for a moment he’s lost in that look of sheer joy spread across her face.
It’s just a bumpy landing and a silly song, something that’s really nothing. Typical for them in their crazy, hectic lives, but all the same it makes her smile and laugh like it’s new every time. And she stops laughing to look at him, and for a second - just a second, but a second that feels so much longer than it really is - they’re frozen in that moment, lying on the grated floor and looking at each other and smiling and suddenly his heart swells with an emotion he refuses to name, and all for her. Her eyes twinkle at him, and he can’t remember the last time he felt more alive and so very, very…happy.
Happy?
Yes, happy. He’s happy, and it’s all because of the human girl lying across from him. All because of Rose and how she laughs and lives and blimey, isn’t she just gorgeous with her cheeks the color of her namesake?
But he recognizes the path his mind is taking - one it’s been wandering closer and closer to since, and really even before, his regeneration - and he shoves it aside. Right now he feels alive and happier than he can ever remember being, and right now he wants to share it with her. He can think on the complicated matters later - right now, they have Ian Dury to see.
“1979 - hell of a year!”
A.n.: I’m terribly sorry this’s taken so long to get out; life’s been a bit hectic at the mo, plus I’ve been working on Aku’s (very very very) late birthday gift, which just doesn’t seem to want to be finished like…ever. Dx Thanks to all who’ve stuck with this - y’all rock so much. P.s.: this follows Theme 20 from Table 2 (silliness/crazy).
Previous Chapters
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four - Pt. 1, Pt. 2 | Chapter Five