DW Fic - Simmer Dim (4/18)
Title - Simmer Dim (4/18)
Author - joely_jo
Characters - Ten/Rose, Mickey, OCs
Rating - R (for language and adult content)
Summary - With the events of Doomsday just a distant memory, Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith make a discovery that they cannot leave alone. But what they find will take Rose on a journey she never expected. Will she come to terms with what she’s faced with, or will the carefully constructed life she’s built for herself come crashing down?
Author’s Notes - I confess to a little recycling with this fic. The idea for this story actually began with the fic I wrote for the OSK Summer Lovin’ Ficathon, The Storm Inside, which in turn was inspired by watching the episodes Human Nature and Family of Blood. I thought it would be interesting to look at what happened to Rose post-Doomsday, but also to try to portray what I perceive to be the unconditional attraction between the Doctor and Rose. I swore I was going to scale down my DW writing after Myths and Legends, but here we are again… It’s another long one, so I hope you enjoy it!
Many thanks to my betas sensiblecat and most especially aibhinn without whose reassurance I may never have worked up the guts to post this.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
It was nearly eleven when she arrived at the airport, having dropped Jonny off with a kiss and a few more barely restrained tears at Mickey’s. Two hours later, she was changing planes at Aberdeen, climbing out of a reasonably comfortable public flight and onto a cramped chartered jet, designed primarily to ferry oil workers backwards and forwards from Sullom Voe. Rose found herself sitting between two gruff bearded men who afforded her little more than half a dozen words of conversation the entire journey.
When they finally touched down, it was mid afternoon and the weather was dull and damp. She climbed out of the plane and immediately felt the chill of the air. It had to be at least five degrees cooler than it had been in Cardiff. She wrapped her arms around her body, cursing the fact that she’d packed her coat in her suitcase. The hire car she’d booked was waiting for her beyond the runway and she slung her bags into the boot and immediately asked for directions to Lerwick. Several of the men at the airport smiled at the fact that she was requesting directions and instructed her to get on the main road and just drive. Apparently all roads led to the town sooner or later so it was unlikely she would get lost.
Thankfully, the men were correct and Rose arrived in Lerwick unflustered. It was a town where grey appeared to be the predominant colour and, silhouetted against a threatening sky, it looked even more monochrome. There were people about - mostly older women and mothers in the town centre, but then, as she neared the harbour, eager to see the TARDIS, saw that there were more men here, all apparently something to do with the busy fishing industry. She found herself looking at all their faces as she passed. It was hard to imagine the Doctor trawling for herring in the North Sea in all weathers, his hands chapped and roughened by the wind and rain and his lungs filled with salty air. It didn’t match up with the pin-striped suit and the canvas Chucks; this was a hard life, one that weeded the strong from the weak with merciless efficiency.
Using the photograph as a guide, she found the TARDIS easily - the town was really only a handful of streets - and parked the car on the side of the road nearby. The blue box was just as she remembered it, albeit a little worn around the edges. It looked neglected and there were signs that it had been damaged, perhaps vandalised by the locals; some of the panels were pushed in and there were long gash marks along one side, as if it had been dragged on its side for some considerable distance. Rose frowned at the mess. It was astonishing to her how anyone could deliberately damage the precious ship.
Slowly, she approached. She reached into her shirt and pulled out the key she’d been wearing around her neck when she’d been snatched into this universe by Pete. She’d never taken it off. Its weight was familiar in her palm as she pressed it into the lock. But even though it sank the full way into the lock, it would not turn. She fumbled with it for a moment, then withdrew the key and stared at it. The lock was not rusty; it had been changed.
“Oh…” She couldn’t help the shocked sound that crept from her lips. Standing back from the TARDIS, she looked at it objectively. It seemed to be the same ship she’d known before, but when she thought about it, there really was no reason to think that it was. Perhaps this was, indeed, an alternate TARDIS and therefore, another Doctor.
But another thought niggled at her mind. Maybe he was here legitimately. And if that was the case had he just forgotten about her and moved on…? She felt a flutter in her chest at that then immediately forced it back down. She refused to believe that the Doctor had forgotten her.
She remembered the night before they’d come home to find her mother talking about ghosts in her kitchen. They’d been on a long trail of different planets, taking in majestic geological sights and long-forgotten cities, and Rose had been so exhausted she could hardly stand. She remembered how the Doctor had laid her down in bed and held her, his eyes speaking every word he wouldn’t allow himself to say. She remembered the way he’d loved her last, frantic and needy, as if he already knew what would happen in just a few short days. She had always believed that had been when Jonny had been conceived, a night of such passion it had felt as if her skin had been scorched by him.
There was no way he could have forgotten all that. No way.
She was just about to try again with the key when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a curt voice stopped her. “I say, what do you think you’re doing, lassie?”
Rose turned sharply and found herself face to face with a white-haired man in his late sixties. He was dressed in tweed trousers, a checked shirt and a green military-style jumper and bore the expression of one who made sure that everything was his business. “I, oh, I’m sorry… I…” She stopped her apology. What was she apologising for? She’d done nothing wrong.
The man looked her up and down, taking in her expensive jeans and white shirt, and she took a step backwards, partly out of indignation and partly because his manner made her apprehensive. After a moment, he thrust out his hand, “Duncan Sutherland,” he said perfunctorily.
Rose took his hand, feeling the roughness of calluses on his fingers. “Rose Tyler, I work for Torchwood. I…” She paused, about to say that she was here on official business, then stopped herself. Although Mickey had given her the information, there was nothing ‘official’ about this. It was entirely a personal investigation. “I’m here on personal business,” she settled on.
Sutherland’s eyes flickered at that, but he remained silent, as if waiting for her to say more. Rose continued, “How long has this phone box been here?”
His eyebrows bobbed almost imperceptibly. “About four years, I’d say. Came from nowhere and no-one knows anythin’ about it. One day it was just there.”
Rose reached out again and tentatively touched the blue painted wood. She was about to ask why nobody had bothered to find out where it had come from, but then remembered what the Doctor had said about the TARDIS blending into its surroundings. “It’s damaged…” she noted.
“Mm-hum,” Sutherland replied. “It was like that when I first saw it. No-one in the town’s touched it; some of the older women even believe it’s cursed.”
There was a long moment of silence. The wind whipped around, blowing Rose’s hair back from her face and sending a chill running through her. Sutherland noticed her shiver and said, “You shouldn’t be standing out here in just a shirt, lassie. You should be inside. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” His voice was kinder than it had been at first, and less abrupt.
“I’m supposed to be staying at the Kveldsro Hotel,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself.
Sutherland nodded. “Oh, aye, just off Commercial Street, at the bottom of the Esplanade. It’s not easy to find, but I can take you there if you want?”
“It’s okay. There are directions on the back of the reservation form.”
“All right. Take care, then, Miss.” He began to walk away. Rose turned reluctantly away from the TARDIS, unsure whether she should leave even though her logical brain told her that there was nothing more she could do here. If she couldn’t get inside the ship and there was nothing anyone could tell her about how it had got where it was, then she had to find another means of getting to what she wanted, and that was to find out just who could identify the Doctor.
“Mr Sutherland,” she called. “The fishermen who work out of this harbour, do they work for someone or are they self-employed?”
With a grunt, Sutherland paused, several paces away from her already. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m looking for someone. Someone who would know what that was.” She indicated back to the TARDIS with a jerk of her head.
He seemed interested, but was obviously trying not to let it show on his face. “Most of the men work for the big fishery firms, like Coldwater and Scottish Seafoods; they’re really the only ones who can afford to run trawlers these days. The prices are so poor.” He cleared his throat. “But there are still one or two who work on their own, then sell their catches on. They don’t have much of a life though.”
They’d reached the car and Rose walked around to the driver’s side, taking her keys out of her handbag. Sutherland stood at the car’s bonnet. “If you’re looking for someone, your best bet would be to ask at Shetland Catch. Most of the men go there to off load their catches, whether they work for a firm or not. Ted Ross would be one to talk to, I’d say.”
“Ted Ross?”
“Aye, tall chap, bearded, has a wee problem with his sight so he squints a lot…” His voice trailed away and he studied Rose carefully as she opened the car door. “I feel I should wish you luck, Miss,” he said after a moment. “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”
Smiling, Rose slid into the car, shut the door and wound down the window. “Thank you, Mr. Sutherland. So do I.”
****
She was just driving into the car park of the Kveldsro Hotel when her mobile phone rang and she answered it using her hands-free kit. It was Mickey. “Mickey? Hi…”
“Rose!” he yelled. “I can hardly hear you. The reception is pathetic.”
She felt a smile cross her face at his silly, familiar voice. Mickey really was her rock, her compass, and hearing him reminded her of how important this expedition was, and what it potentially could result in. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she shouted back. “Great. I got here this afternoon. I’m just arriving at the hotel now. An’ it’s bloody well raining again.” She let out a long sigh as she tucked the car into a parking space then switched the engine off and sat back in her seat. There was a long pause as Mickey considered the information she’d provided him with.
“You’re not going back out again tonight, are you?”
“I thought I might…” she replied.
“Rose, that’s stupid. You should do this after you’ve slept. If you start tonight you won’t stop.”
Blowing out a breath, Rose realised that he was probably right. If the Doctor was out there, one more night wasn’t going to make a difference, and she would be fresher if she’d had a good night’s sleep. “Okay, Mickey,” she assented. She heard him sigh in relief. “How’s Jonny?”
There was a chuckle and she heard Mickey’s leather sofa squeak as he sat down. “He’s having the time of his life. We’ve been sailing all afternoon, then I went to Blockbuster and we rented the new Bond film and ate popcorn and nachos on the sofa together. He’s just gone upstairs to get washed and ready for bed, so I thought I’d ring and check on you.”
Rose smiled at that. “Good,” she murmured. “Make sure you don’t spoil him too much, though, Mickey.”
Mickey snorted, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Rose.” There was a pause. “You know, he’s worried about you. He thinks this is too good to be true.”
“I can understand that.”
Another pause. “Rose, I wish you’d’ve let me come with you…”
“I think we both know I had to be here on my own,” she said, slowly. She heard Mickey’s quiet sigh and wondered why he was so good to her. He trusted her above all else and even when the decision she’d made was something he didn’t agree with, he stood by her. It was a quality she’d grown to love over the years of single motherhood.
“You’ll ring me tomorrow?” he bartered, part question, part statement.
“Yeah, course I will.”
She hung up and climbed out of the car, digging her bags out of the boot then heading towards the main doors. A young, female valet took them from her and, minutes later, she was making her way to her bedroom, listening to the woman’s idle chatter. Rose answered most of the questions she threw in her direction vaguely, wanting nothing more at that moment than to sink into a deep bath full of bubbles, then climb straight into bed and sleep until dawn.
“Breakfast is from seven till ten in the main dining room, ma’am, or we can organise for it to be delivered to your room,” said the valet. “Will you require a newspaper in the morning?”
“No, thanks,” Rose managed to reply. She swung open the door of her room and stepped inside, then waited for the valet to set her bags down. The woman appeared to pause, as if about to ask another question, then smiled and turned away. Rose couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from her lungs; she had really had enough of explaining things to strangers. It seemed that it was part of the nature of Shetlanders to be obsessed with gossip. She could just imagine the valet running into the hotel staff room and gleefully informing everyone of what she’d learned about the blonde Englishwoman with the Torchwood ID in her wallet.
As the door closed, she realised how tired she actually was and, forgoing the bath, dug her pyjamas out of her suitcase and crawled immediately into the king-size bed.
She fell asleep within minutes and dreamt of being stuck on top of a tidal wave, unable to get off as it neared closer to the shore, seeing her friends and family lined up on the beach like sacrificial lambs and there, in the mid-distance, the Doctor, standing by and doing nothing.
To be continued...
Author - joely_jo
Characters - Ten/Rose, Mickey, OCs
Rating - R (for language and adult content)
Summary - With the events of Doomsday just a distant memory, Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith make a discovery that they cannot leave alone. But what they find will take Rose on a journey she never expected. Will she come to terms with what she’s faced with, or will the carefully constructed life she’s built for herself come crashing down?
Author’s Notes - I confess to a little recycling with this fic. The idea for this story actually began with the fic I wrote for the OSK Summer Lovin’ Ficathon, The Storm Inside, which in turn was inspired by watching the episodes Human Nature and Family of Blood. I thought it would be interesting to look at what happened to Rose post-Doomsday, but also to try to portray what I perceive to be the unconditional attraction between the Doctor and Rose. I swore I was going to scale down my DW writing after Myths and Legends, but here we are again… It’s another long one, so I hope you enjoy it!
Many thanks to my betas sensiblecat and most especially aibhinn without whose reassurance I may never have worked up the guts to post this.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
It was nearly eleven when she arrived at the airport, having dropped Jonny off with a kiss and a few more barely restrained tears at Mickey’s. Two hours later, she was changing planes at Aberdeen, climbing out of a reasonably comfortable public flight and onto a cramped chartered jet, designed primarily to ferry oil workers backwards and forwards from Sullom Voe. Rose found herself sitting between two gruff bearded men who afforded her little more than half a dozen words of conversation the entire journey.
When they finally touched down, it was mid afternoon and the weather was dull and damp. She climbed out of the plane and immediately felt the chill of the air. It had to be at least five degrees cooler than it had been in Cardiff. She wrapped her arms around her body, cursing the fact that she’d packed her coat in her suitcase. The hire car she’d booked was waiting for her beyond the runway and she slung her bags into the boot and immediately asked for directions to Lerwick. Several of the men at the airport smiled at the fact that she was requesting directions and instructed her to get on the main road and just drive. Apparently all roads led to the town sooner or later so it was unlikely she would get lost.
Thankfully, the men were correct and Rose arrived in Lerwick unflustered. It was a town where grey appeared to be the predominant colour and, silhouetted against a threatening sky, it looked even more monochrome. There were people about - mostly older women and mothers in the town centre, but then, as she neared the harbour, eager to see the TARDIS, saw that there were more men here, all apparently something to do with the busy fishing industry. She found herself looking at all their faces as she passed. It was hard to imagine the Doctor trawling for herring in the North Sea in all weathers, his hands chapped and roughened by the wind and rain and his lungs filled with salty air. It didn’t match up with the pin-striped suit and the canvas Chucks; this was a hard life, one that weeded the strong from the weak with merciless efficiency.
Using the photograph as a guide, she found the TARDIS easily - the town was really only a handful of streets - and parked the car on the side of the road nearby. The blue box was just as she remembered it, albeit a little worn around the edges. It looked neglected and there were signs that it had been damaged, perhaps vandalised by the locals; some of the panels were pushed in and there were long gash marks along one side, as if it had been dragged on its side for some considerable distance. Rose frowned at the mess. It was astonishing to her how anyone could deliberately damage the precious ship.
Slowly, she approached. She reached into her shirt and pulled out the key she’d been wearing around her neck when she’d been snatched into this universe by Pete. She’d never taken it off. Its weight was familiar in her palm as she pressed it into the lock. But even though it sank the full way into the lock, it would not turn. She fumbled with it for a moment, then withdrew the key and stared at it. The lock was not rusty; it had been changed.
“Oh…” She couldn’t help the shocked sound that crept from her lips. Standing back from the TARDIS, she looked at it objectively. It seemed to be the same ship she’d known before, but when she thought about it, there really was no reason to think that it was. Perhaps this was, indeed, an alternate TARDIS and therefore, another Doctor.
But another thought niggled at her mind. Maybe he was here legitimately. And if that was the case had he just forgotten about her and moved on…? She felt a flutter in her chest at that then immediately forced it back down. She refused to believe that the Doctor had forgotten her.
She remembered the night before they’d come home to find her mother talking about ghosts in her kitchen. They’d been on a long trail of different planets, taking in majestic geological sights and long-forgotten cities, and Rose had been so exhausted she could hardly stand. She remembered how the Doctor had laid her down in bed and held her, his eyes speaking every word he wouldn’t allow himself to say. She remembered the way he’d loved her last, frantic and needy, as if he already knew what would happen in just a few short days. She had always believed that had been when Jonny had been conceived, a night of such passion it had felt as if her skin had been scorched by him.
There was no way he could have forgotten all that. No way.
She was just about to try again with the key when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a curt voice stopped her. “I say, what do you think you’re doing, lassie?”
Rose turned sharply and found herself face to face with a white-haired man in his late sixties. He was dressed in tweed trousers, a checked shirt and a green military-style jumper and bore the expression of one who made sure that everything was his business. “I, oh, I’m sorry… I…” She stopped her apology. What was she apologising for? She’d done nothing wrong.
The man looked her up and down, taking in her expensive jeans and white shirt, and she took a step backwards, partly out of indignation and partly because his manner made her apprehensive. After a moment, he thrust out his hand, “Duncan Sutherland,” he said perfunctorily.
Rose took his hand, feeling the roughness of calluses on his fingers. “Rose Tyler, I work for Torchwood. I…” She paused, about to say that she was here on official business, then stopped herself. Although Mickey had given her the information, there was nothing ‘official’ about this. It was entirely a personal investigation. “I’m here on personal business,” she settled on.
Sutherland’s eyes flickered at that, but he remained silent, as if waiting for her to say more. Rose continued, “How long has this phone box been here?”
His eyebrows bobbed almost imperceptibly. “About four years, I’d say. Came from nowhere and no-one knows anythin’ about it. One day it was just there.”
Rose reached out again and tentatively touched the blue painted wood. She was about to ask why nobody had bothered to find out where it had come from, but then remembered what the Doctor had said about the TARDIS blending into its surroundings. “It’s damaged…” she noted.
“Mm-hum,” Sutherland replied. “It was like that when I first saw it. No-one in the town’s touched it; some of the older women even believe it’s cursed.”
There was a long moment of silence. The wind whipped around, blowing Rose’s hair back from her face and sending a chill running through her. Sutherland noticed her shiver and said, “You shouldn’t be standing out here in just a shirt, lassie. You should be inside. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” His voice was kinder than it had been at first, and less abrupt.
“I’m supposed to be staying at the Kveldsro Hotel,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself.
Sutherland nodded. “Oh, aye, just off Commercial Street, at the bottom of the Esplanade. It’s not easy to find, but I can take you there if you want?”
“It’s okay. There are directions on the back of the reservation form.”
“All right. Take care, then, Miss.” He began to walk away. Rose turned reluctantly away from the TARDIS, unsure whether she should leave even though her logical brain told her that there was nothing more she could do here. If she couldn’t get inside the ship and there was nothing anyone could tell her about how it had got where it was, then she had to find another means of getting to what she wanted, and that was to find out just who could identify the Doctor.
“Mr Sutherland,” she called. “The fishermen who work out of this harbour, do they work for someone or are they self-employed?”
With a grunt, Sutherland paused, several paces away from her already. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m looking for someone. Someone who would know what that was.” She indicated back to the TARDIS with a jerk of her head.
He seemed interested, but was obviously trying not to let it show on his face. “Most of the men work for the big fishery firms, like Coldwater and Scottish Seafoods; they’re really the only ones who can afford to run trawlers these days. The prices are so poor.” He cleared his throat. “But there are still one or two who work on their own, then sell their catches on. They don’t have much of a life though.”
They’d reached the car and Rose walked around to the driver’s side, taking her keys out of her handbag. Sutherland stood at the car’s bonnet. “If you’re looking for someone, your best bet would be to ask at Shetland Catch. Most of the men go there to off load their catches, whether they work for a firm or not. Ted Ross would be one to talk to, I’d say.”
“Ted Ross?”
“Aye, tall chap, bearded, has a wee problem with his sight so he squints a lot…” His voice trailed away and he studied Rose carefully as she opened the car door. “I feel I should wish you luck, Miss,” he said after a moment. “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”
Smiling, Rose slid into the car, shut the door and wound down the window. “Thank you, Mr. Sutherland. So do I.”
****
She was just driving into the car park of the Kveldsro Hotel when her mobile phone rang and she answered it using her hands-free kit. It was Mickey. “Mickey? Hi…”
“Rose!” he yelled. “I can hardly hear you. The reception is pathetic.”
She felt a smile cross her face at his silly, familiar voice. Mickey really was her rock, her compass, and hearing him reminded her of how important this expedition was, and what it potentially could result in. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she shouted back. “Great. I got here this afternoon. I’m just arriving at the hotel now. An’ it’s bloody well raining again.” She let out a long sigh as she tucked the car into a parking space then switched the engine off and sat back in her seat. There was a long pause as Mickey considered the information she’d provided him with.
“You’re not going back out again tonight, are you?”
“I thought I might…” she replied.
“Rose, that’s stupid. You should do this after you’ve slept. If you start tonight you won’t stop.”
Blowing out a breath, Rose realised that he was probably right. If the Doctor was out there, one more night wasn’t going to make a difference, and she would be fresher if she’d had a good night’s sleep. “Okay, Mickey,” she assented. She heard him sigh in relief. “How’s Jonny?”
There was a chuckle and she heard Mickey’s leather sofa squeak as he sat down. “He’s having the time of his life. We’ve been sailing all afternoon, then I went to Blockbuster and we rented the new Bond film and ate popcorn and nachos on the sofa together. He’s just gone upstairs to get washed and ready for bed, so I thought I’d ring and check on you.”
Rose smiled at that. “Good,” she murmured. “Make sure you don’t spoil him too much, though, Mickey.”
Mickey snorted, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Rose.” There was a pause. “You know, he’s worried about you. He thinks this is too good to be true.”
“I can understand that.”
Another pause. “Rose, I wish you’d’ve let me come with you…”
“I think we both know I had to be here on my own,” she said, slowly. She heard Mickey’s quiet sigh and wondered why he was so good to her. He trusted her above all else and even when the decision she’d made was something he didn’t agree with, he stood by her. It was a quality she’d grown to love over the years of single motherhood.
“You’ll ring me tomorrow?” he bartered, part question, part statement.
“Yeah, course I will.”
She hung up and climbed out of the car, digging her bags out of the boot then heading towards the main doors. A young, female valet took them from her and, minutes later, she was making her way to her bedroom, listening to the woman’s idle chatter. Rose answered most of the questions she threw in her direction vaguely, wanting nothing more at that moment than to sink into a deep bath full of bubbles, then climb straight into bed and sleep until dawn.
“Breakfast is from seven till ten in the main dining room, ma’am, or we can organise for it to be delivered to your room,” said the valet. “Will you require a newspaper in the morning?”
“No, thanks,” Rose managed to reply. She swung open the door of her room and stepped inside, then waited for the valet to set her bags down. The woman appeared to pause, as if about to ask another question, then smiled and turned away. Rose couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from her lungs; she had really had enough of explaining things to strangers. It seemed that it was part of the nature of Shetlanders to be obsessed with gossip. She could just imagine the valet running into the hotel staff room and gleefully informing everyone of what she’d learned about the blonde Englishwoman with the Torchwood ID in her wallet.
As the door closed, she realised how tired she actually was and, forgoing the bath, dug her pyjamas out of her suitcase and crawled immediately into the king-size bed.
She fell asleep within minutes and dreamt of being stuck on top of a tidal wave, unable to get off as it neared closer to the shore, seeing her friends and family lined up on the beach like sacrificial lambs and there, in the mid-distance, the Doctor, standing by and doing nothing.
To be continued...