And So Things Go, Chapter 23
Title- And So Things Go (23/34)
Author- jlrpuck
Rating - T
Pairing - Peter Carlisle/Rose Tyler
Disclaimer - Characters from Blackpool and Doctor Who are the property of the BBC, and are used with the greatest of love and respect; no profit is intended from the writing or sharing of this story.
Summary - The story of how Peter Carlisle moved to London to live with Rose Tyler.
Author’s Notes - Peter returns to Kendal.
earlgreytea68 and chicklet73 have been ideal betas for this-supportive, diligent, and full of excellent ideas. lostwolfchats has been fabulous, as well, and equally as invaluable, ensuring that I didn’t ruin the Queen’s English…too badly. Any errors-grammatical, colloquial, or factual-are mine, and mine alone. And, on an artistic front-thank you to angelfireeast for the lovely banner at the top of the chapter.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Epilogue
His final three days in London-his final three days with Rose-had passed in a blur. Dinner with her Friday, after her return from Kendal, had been a romantic retreat; they’d managed to escape the notice of the zanzare, for which he was thankful. Saturday, they’d awoken late; they’d made love in her shower, and had finally emerged from the flat into the weak afternoon sunshine to spend the remainder of the day simply walking around the city. Dinner with Elias and Ruby had been postponed, both Elias and Ruby being called in to work, and he and Rose had ended up back at her flat, sitting on the floor by her coffee table, eating takeaway and watching a film on the telly.
And Sunday…Sunday, he’d returned to Kendal. His zeppelin ticket had been for mid-day; he and Rose had spent the entire morning together, simply talking. Rose had snuck off long enough to make coffee and toast, and they’d had breakfast in bed, Rose laughing as they got crumbs everywhere.
She saw him off at the airfield; he’d not missed her warily eyeing the airship he was meant to board, as though she expected it to attack her if she didn’t pay sharp attention. He’d distracted her with a long, lingering kiss, and had watched as she'd waved goodbye to him, putting on a cheery face.
He stopped by Louise’s upon his return, collecting his keys from her and catching up on the major gossip developments in town in his absence. Rose’s visit had gone mostly unnoticed, for which he was grateful, and he finally pulled up at his door near sunset.
The house nearly echoed with emptiness, and he fought back a weary sigh. It was home-his home, the place he’d always found to be comforting in the past. He should be happy to be there, to know exactly how many steps it was from the front door to the kitchen, from the bed to the en suite. Instead, he found himself reflecting on how much he wanted Rose to be there, to welcome him home, to greet him with a kiss. She’d said she would move to Kendal; what would it be like, he wondered, for her to share that house with him?
He wanted to find out.
Louise had left his mail piled on the kitchen table, next to his case notes from Glasgow; sitting in the middle of the empty space where he usually worked was a note, covered in Rose’s handwriting. He set his carryall down, picking up the note and moving to lean against the counter as he read.
Peter,
Welcome back to Kendal; I wish I was here with you.
It’s been odd, staying here without you. I know I already told you that, but even this morning, writing this here at the table, I can’t get over how wrong it feels to be here without you in the next room, or curled under the duvet upstairs.
I meant what I said, about looking for a way to move to Kendal, to be with you. I’ve an appointment with the right people within Torchwood next week, and hope to have some sort of answer on what it would take by the end of next week.
I’ll have spoken to you about this by the time you read the note, but Mum and Dad are throwing a party at the house in two weeks' time; I hope you’ll be able to make it. I can’t wait to see what you look like in a tuxedo-and I certainly will be happy to help you take it off after, as a proper reward for making it through the evening.
I love you. Always.
Rose
He set the note aside, imagining Rose at the table, her head bent as she wrote the note. She had spoken with him about the party; he’d agreed, and would be travelling down to London again in just under two weeks' time to attend his first official Vitex function. He felt nervousness pass through him at the mere thought, and shoved it aside; he could worry about that later. After he’d found a tuxedo, certainly.
Monday was a return to the mundane routine of life at the station. Penny greeted him with a smile, and Peter felt a brief flash of guilt for how he’d spoken of the young man to Rose. Penny meant well, if nothing else; it was hardly the DC’s fault he wasn’t Elias McCoy, or from the Met. Just as it was hardly the DC’s fault that Peter had realized just how miserable he was as a DI in Kendal. Williams didn’t even acknowledge his presence in the station, and Peter settled in at his desk, ready to tackle whatever came his way.
Another week and a half passed; Penny was still taking care of the assignments and busy work Williams had provided in Peter’s absence and Peter found himself working alone more often than not, visiting shops where small burglaries had been reported, taking phone calls with leads for the other detectives. It was hardly the high pressure of London, or the intensity of Glasgow, and he found himself bored more often than not. His workdays fell into a routine he’d not experienced in years-arriving at eight in the morning, leaving by half-four-and he wondered if this was how he was going to spend the rest of his career.
Maybe he needed to put in a request to be put back on the night shift. Williams had put him onto daywork after the McGreevy case-the DCI’s idea of punishment-but perhaps it had been long enough that Peter could argue successfully to go back to his former haven. Penny wouldn’t be too happy about it, but that was something that he might be able to negotiate with the DC.
It was definitely slow enough that by the beginning of his second week back, he began to consider requesting leave; during lunch on Tuesday, he finally went so far as to begin to fill out a request for leave. He needed to get away, to think; he wanted to let his mind work over the issue of living with Rose, and he generally wanted to take a break from the job he was so disillusioned with.
Penny was seated across from him, absent-mindedly munching on a sandwich as he worked on a report. Peter, his sandwich long-since consumed, was staring at the far wall. His mind was once again churning through his options-taking leave, living with Rose, finding a new job--when his desk phone rang. Joy.
“DI Carlisle, North Lakes Constabulary. How may I be of service?”
“…Peter?” Elias’s voice was disbelieving.
“The very one.”
“Do they pay you to talk like that?”
“It’s part of being a crime-citizen-interface consultant.”
“Have they medicated you?” Elias’s tone was full of disbelief.
“No. What do you want?”
“Are you free?”
“Right now, or more metaphorically speaking?” He leaned back in his chair, noting Penny trying to pretend he wasn’t listening.
“Right now, you pillock.”
“I could be, I suppose.”
“Good. I’m at your car.”
Peter rocked forward, his feet landing squarely on the floor. “What?!”
“Get out here.” The line clicked dead.
Penny was staring at him openly, now; Peter set the phone back into the cradle, slowly pushing back from the desk. “I’ll…be right back.” He stood, turning towards the door out of the squad room, a sense of unreality washing through him. Would the Glasgow case never end?
He slowly crossed the squad room; pushed through the doors into the hallway; walked to the front door. He kept expecting to wake up with his head on his desk, a piece of paper stuck to his cheek, or Williams yelling at him.
He pushed open the front door, made his way outside and down the short flight of stairs. A quick glance to his left showed McCoy standing exactly where he'd said he would be.
Peter sauntered up to the man, his hands in his pockets, trying to appear far more nonchalant than he felt.
“Elias.”
“Peter.”
“Just passing through?”
“Actually, yes-Ruby and I are meeting up with some gentlemen in Glasgow tomorrow.”
“And you drove?”
“Ruby wanted to see the countryside.”
“Where is your fine-eternally patient-wife?”
“She’s wandered off in search of coffee.”
Peter sucked on his cheek. “Ye should have called-I know just the place.”
“I did call. And good-you can show us.”
“I’m working, Elias.”
“You can take a coffee break, Peter, surely?”
Peter glanced over his shoulder at the station, half-expecting to find Williams glaring at him from his office. “Yeah, I suppose I could do.” He turned back to McCoy. “Which direction did Ruby go?”
Elias’s wife had wandered in the general direction they needed to go to get to Louise’s, and ten minutes later the three of them were settled in the small café, piping hot cups of coffee in front of each of them. Louise was leaning against the counter, her bright eyes peering over at their table, not even hiding the fact that she was trying to listen in on his conversation.
“How are you liking Kendal, Ruby?” Peter turned his attention to Elias’s wife, once again amazed that she put up with him.
“It’s…smaller than I expected.”
Peter fought down a laugh as he watched Louise bristle at the assessment. “It’s not London-but that’s part of its charm.”
“How does Rose like it here?” Ruby held his gaze as she asked the question.
“She enjoys it.”
“Is she planning to move?” Elias asked.
“I…don’t think that’s any of your business.” Peter met his gaze steadily, making it clear that talking about Rose wasn’t an option.
“I’m not asking so I can sell the tale to the zanzare, Peter. Give me a little credit.”
“Then why are you asking, Elias?”
“Cunningham wants to bring you on.”
Peter felt the cup of coffee slip in his hand; he hastily tightened his grip, splashing some of the hot liquid over his hand. He winced, setting the cup down, sucking on the skin between his thumb and his forefinger.
He surely couldn’t have heard that correctly.
He pulled his hand back, glancing at the red spot where the coffee had landed.
“What?” He returned his attention to Elias, who was watching him with open amusement.
“I think you heard me just fine.”
“I don’t think I did.”
“We’re going to have some vacancies that need filling. My boss-well, really, my boss’s boss, but that’s quibbling-wants you to put in for one of them.”
“Why?” Peter was utterly mystified-he’d not done anything remarkable in the case, had barely been serviceable.
“Because he-and I, but I don’t really factor in-think you’re wasted up here.”
“But-”
“Think about it, Peter. You don’t have to put in for it today, after all-you have time.”
“I…” He glanced over at Ruby, completely at a loss.
“You undervalue yourself, Carlisle.” She smiled softly. “Rose, I think, knows your true value, even if you don’t.”
“Am I being offered this because of Rose?”
Elias looked confused. “Why on earth would we hire you because of who you’re dating?”
“She didn’t come to you and ask you to offer me this?”
“D’you really think Cunningham would listen to Rose if she did? She’s a lovely woman, Peter, and smart-but she has nothing to do with policework. Her opinion would be seen as biased---to be frank-Cunningham would laugh her out of the room for even making such a suggestion.”
Peter didn’t miss Louise’s reaction, how she straightened behind the counter, leaning forward as though preparing to offer a piece of her mind.
He, too, often forgot that people didn’t know the real Rose Tyler.
“You’re right,” he offered, conciliatory. “I just…this is a surprise.”
“It’s not as though it’s a real offer, y’know. It’s a…a strong encouragement to put in for one of the positions. You’re already in the system, we’d just have to transfer you. Assuming you applied and passed.”
“When will the vacancies open?”
“Monday.”
Peter leaned back, his head tilting so he could look at the pressed tin ceiling of Louise’s. “How many positions are opening up?”
“Three.”
“All Inspectors?”
“Yes.”
“What of the DCS and DCI?”
“Planning to gun for DCI?” Elias asked, bemused.
“No.” Peter rocked forward, the legs of his chair landing on the ground with a metallic thunk. “Curious.”
“Curious enough to apply?”
“Curious enough to consider applying, yes.”
Elias leaned forward. “Do it, Peter. You could do better than this.”
“Oy!” Louise’s affronted voice intruded on their conversation.
“No disrespect to the town. But this isn’t where you should be, Peter.”
“Why’d you come up here, and not Cunningham?” Peter crossed his arms, settling back in his chair.
“There has to be some semblance of impartiality.”
“You make it sound as though it’s a done thing.”
“You still have to put in for it.”
“And if I put in for it, and my request doesn’t meet spec?”
“Put in for it, Peter.” Ruby leaned forward, catching his gaze. “The worst they can do is say no.”
“Thanks, Ruby.”
“You take yourself too seriously, sometimes.”
“Thanks again for that.” He returned his attention to Elias.
“When are you next in town?” Elias asked the question casually.
“This weekend, actually. I have to squire Rose to some party.”
“The Vitex Dinner?” Ruby’s voice was enraptured. “That’s the dinner of the season, Peter. Lucky man.”
Peter blanched. “She told me it was a small thing, but that I had to wear a tuxedo.”
“She lied to you.” Elias was fighting back laughter. “I hope you enjoy having tons of flashbulbs go off around you.”
Peter glared at him. “We’ll find out, won’t we.”
Elias did laugh, then. “Talk to Rose whilst you’re in London-if nothing else, this’ll give you something to discuss during the speeches they’re bound to have.” Elias pushed back from the table, turning to Ruby. “Ready? We need to be up into Glasgow by six.”
Ruby stood, waiting for Elias and Peter to join her. “I want to hear all about it, you know. And I’ll keep an eye on the papers for any pictures of you two.”
Peter stood slowly, feeling more than a little dazed. “I’ll talk to Rose.”
“Please tell her again how sorry we were about last weekend. Next time you’re in town, perhaps. When you don’t have to wear a tux.” Ruby was grinning at him, as Elias walked towards the door.
“I’ll tell her.” He followed the couple, ducking a quick nod in Louise’s direction before stepping out into the bright sunlight.
He followed Elias and Ruby back to the station, listening as they talked about work, interspersing their conversation with observations about the town, or brief asides about friends.
He saw the McCoys off, Elias admonishing him once again to put in for the job, Ruby brushing a kiss over his cheek before joining her husband in the car. It had just gone three when he walked back into the station, dazed and not a little confused. What should he do?
He sat at his desk, heavily; Penny had gone off to somewhere, and the squad room was filled with quiet bustle as the other officers did work writing reports or talking on the phone. His computer was still up on the screen he’d had open when Elias had called: a leave slip, partially filled out for the rest of the week.
He’d been thinking about finding a way to move to London, and Elias had appeared on his doorstep with the perfect solution. It almost seemed too good to be true. Perhaps it was.
Williams was still there: maybe he’d be incredibly lucky that day, and be able to get a last minute leave request approved. He hurriedly finished filling in the blanks, printing a copy and scrawling his signature on the appropriate line before moving down the hall to Williams's office. The door was open, and the man himself was behind the desk, peering intently at the report he held in his hands.
Peter knocked on the door, causing the DCI to jump. “What do you want, Carlisle?”
“Sir.” Peter stepped forward, presenting his leave slip. Williams stared at it. “I’d like to take a few days personal leave.”
“When?”
“Beginning tomorrow.”
“Crisis with your bit of skirt?”
Peter fought to keep from snapping at the man. “No, sir.”
“What work will you be ignoring for this?”
“My desk is clear, sir. Penington is working several issues on your behalf, and I’ve caught up on the pile I had when I returned.”
Williams snatched the paper from his hand and gave it a glare. “How much leave have you?”
“More than enough for this.”
“Don’t be an ass, Carlisle.”
“I stopped counting after I hit five hundred hours, sir.”
Williams continued to glare at the piece of paper; Peter felt his stomach sink. He’d not be approved for leave, and would instead remain trapped in the squad room for the rest of the week, bored to tears but unable to leave.
“Why should I approve this?” Williams raised his eyes to Peter’s.
“Because it will get me out of your way for three days, sir.”
“Are your London friends going to call me again?”
“I should hope not, sir.”
Williams set the paper down, picked up his pen; Peter held his breath as he waited to see which line Williams would sign on.
The older man glanced up at Peter one last time; Peter held his gaze steadily, fighting to keep his expression relaxed.
Williams signed the leave slip, handing it to Peter without another word. Peter nearly ran out of the room, confident by now that he was in one of the most vivid dreams he’d ever had.
Williams had approved the request.
Peter fairly ran out of the station after handing the form over to the Desk Sergeant; he paused long enough to shut down his computer, to secure his files, and to leave Penny a note that he’d be gone for the rest of the week. He emerged into the late fall sunshine feeling lighter than he had in ages; he was a free man for nearly a week.
He rang Rose when he got home-he wasn’t quite sure about telling her of the job offer yet, but he wanted to at least check in with her. Her phone rolled immediately to her voicemail-a certain sign that she was on a job of some sort-and he left a brief message that he’d be down to London in time to meet her at the end of her workday on Friday.
It was short work to pack a bag for Croy-he’d been up there often enough in the previous months that most everything he needed was already tucked away at the cottage. He’d need to stop at the market in Maybole on his way in, but other than that he’d be able to settle in for a few days of proper thinking.
~ - ~
Chapter 24