Fanfic: November 29th 2006, 2:30 a.m. (Nine/Rose)
Title: November 29th 2006, 2:30 a.m.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: G
Genre: Slice of life/fluff
Wordcount: 1086
Author's notes: Written for the 2011 Doctor/Rose Summer Fixaton at doctor_rose_fix, photo prompt by strange_charmed.
A knock on the TARDIS doors jolted the Doctor out of his concentration, and he muttered something under his breath before he untangled himself from the mass of wires sticking underneath the console. It was two in the morning on a cold Tuesday night; the street where he parked should have been deserted.
"Rose!" his forehead wrinkled with surprise as he swung the door open. "What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep," answered the shivering Rose. Half-melted snowflakes glistened on her violet winter hat. "Can ya put that away? It's shining right into my face."
Just as his mouth opened to let the words what are you talking about out, he remembered he had his headlamp on.
"Oh."
He removed the torch and Rose entered the TARDIS, letting her hair out of its wool confines and quickly running her fingers through it.
"You're the one who begged me to take you back," declared the Doctor, folding his arms across his chest. "Said you missed sleeping in your bed."
"Yeah... sorry," Rose's nose wrinkled as she gave an apologetic smile; almost immediately the Doctor's flimsy facade of seriousness melted to give way to a grin of his own.
"That's okay," he pushed himself away from the wall and resumed his position underneath the console. "I've just got to finish this."
"Oh, so I wasn't lying when I told mum you couldn't come 'cause you're busy."
"What, was I supposed to come with you so she can slap me around some more? No thanks!"
Rose's laugh echoed against the walls of the console room, and she sat down in her favourite spot to watch him work. That only lasted for a couple of minutes before she started picking on the tassels on her multicoloured scarf. (The Doctor felt a bit insulted by the fact that Rose was more interested in her clothing than she was in watching him repairing astral valves.) Even the scarf soon lost its appeal, however, and she stood up and started making rounds around the room.
"What are you so fidgety for?" the Doctor finally barked. "D'you want us to go?" Instantly, his entire demeanor changed, images of the universe unfolding in his mind's eye. "There's a planet I was thinking of taking you to, it has these beautiful, massive blue mushrooms that smell just like cotton candy. Can you imagine that? But you can't eat them, they're terribly poisonous."
Rose smiled, but didn't cave in. "I can't, I promised mum I'd have lunch with her tomorrow."
"Time machine, Rose."
Rose shook her head. "I promised."
The Doctor chose to believe that wasn't a jab at his piloting skills. "Suit yourself," he gave a shrug and disappeared right back on the ground underneath the console. He'd just found the two wires that needed reattaching when Rose spoke again.
"Let's go for a walk."
The Doctor tore himself from his work once more and rolled his eyes.
"We came here because you said you needed rest! Only you would still have unburnt energy after all that running-around-and-saving-the-world business."
"Shut up," Rose gave an embarrassed laugh and kicked his foot lightly.
"Besides," he pulled his best incredulous expression. "Peckham, 29th of November 2006, half past two in the morning? Really?"
It wasn't nearly good enough to convince Rose.
"C'mon," she was smiling and looking straight at him. He couldn't say no to those eyes.
"You can pretend it's something exciting. Like... an ice planet. Or the Earth during the ice age."
He couldn't say no to that small pink hand reaching out to him.
* * * * * *
The Doctor followed Rose's lead out of the dark alley the TARDIS was parked in until they found themselves on a proper street. She did a little turn and offered her grinning face towards the falling snow. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and reckoned it was no wonder there was nobody else in sight. In human terms, it was freezing.
The thick layer of glistening snow wiped out any difference between the street and the pavement. It also served as a sound damper, drowning out the regular nightly noises with surprising efficacy. The transformed city no longer seemed like the bustling London they knew. This was some strange, fragile new world in which silence reigned, and skyscrapers, parked cars and traffic signs rose up as beacons in a vast white sea. The streetlights illuminated the flurry of falling snowflakes just right, bringing them to life as fireflies.
In a small reversal of roles, Rose led the way. Her initial chattiness soon turned into sporadic hushes, until they too faded away, gently replaced by a comfortable silence. The uncanny stillness that surrounded them joined the cold in slowly creeping into their bones. Disrupting this peace with inane words felt akin to a transgression. As they wandered through the deserted city, Rose wordlessly slipped her icy hand into the Doctor's pocket, where it joined his in a rehearsed motion. (In this, there was nothing inane.) He asked if she was cold and if they should go back; her answers were a yes and a no.
They never met a single soul as they walked, hand in hand. It was as though they were separated from the world, safe in a snow globe made just for the two of them. A bit too domestic for the Doctor; but tonight, just for tonight, it was perfect.
* * * * * *
"Thanks for walkin' with me," Rose slurred when they arrived in front of her apartment. Judging by how heavy her tongue was and the way she was dragging her feet, their outing had definitely succeeded in draining her of superfluous energy.
"Think you'll be able to sleep now?"
"Yeah," she smiled peacefully. "It wasn't too dull, was it?"
The Doctor made a little disapproving noise and shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, it wasn't the Second Satellite of Ystral or Woman Wept, but as far as-"
"'Twas still nice though," Rose mused softly, her eyes vaguely staring at the distance. "Everything's much nicer when I'm with you. Even home."
The Doctor felt something burst within him, and for one shining moment every fibre of his being yearned to kiss her sleepy eyes, her cold pink cheeks, her chapped lips. It was wrong and impossible and now she was looking at him and he hoped she couldn't tell (he hoped she could tell), and he had to do something - anything - he...
All he dared do was reach out and brush his knuckles across her cheek.
"Good night, Rose."
It was odd, but as he walked back towards the TARDIS, all that snow and all those buildings and the freezing, dark silence didn't seem the least bit remarkable.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: G
Genre: Slice of life/fluff
Wordcount: 1086
Author's notes: Written for the 2011 Doctor/Rose Summer Fixaton at doctor_rose_fix, photo prompt by strange_charmed.
A knock on the TARDIS doors jolted the Doctor out of his concentration, and he muttered something under his breath before he untangled himself from the mass of wires sticking underneath the console. It was two in the morning on a cold Tuesday night; the street where he parked should have been deserted.
"Rose!" his forehead wrinkled with surprise as he swung the door open. "What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep," answered the shivering Rose. Half-melted snowflakes glistened on her violet winter hat. "Can ya put that away? It's shining right into my face."
Just as his mouth opened to let the words what are you talking about out, he remembered he had his headlamp on.
"Oh."
He removed the torch and Rose entered the TARDIS, letting her hair out of its wool confines and quickly running her fingers through it.
"You're the one who begged me to take you back," declared the Doctor, folding his arms across his chest. "Said you missed sleeping in your bed."
"Yeah... sorry," Rose's nose wrinkled as she gave an apologetic smile; almost immediately the Doctor's flimsy facade of seriousness melted to give way to a grin of his own.
"That's okay," he pushed himself away from the wall and resumed his position underneath the console. "I've just got to finish this."
"Oh, so I wasn't lying when I told mum you couldn't come 'cause you're busy."
"What, was I supposed to come with you so she can slap me around some more? No thanks!"
Rose's laugh echoed against the walls of the console room, and she sat down in her favourite spot to watch him work. That only lasted for a couple of minutes before she started picking on the tassels on her multicoloured scarf. (The Doctor felt a bit insulted by the fact that Rose was more interested in her clothing than she was in watching him repairing astral valves.) Even the scarf soon lost its appeal, however, and she stood up and started making rounds around the room.
"What are you so fidgety for?" the Doctor finally barked. "D'you want us to go?" Instantly, his entire demeanor changed, images of the universe unfolding in his mind's eye. "There's a planet I was thinking of taking you to, it has these beautiful, massive blue mushrooms that smell just like cotton candy. Can you imagine that? But you can't eat them, they're terribly poisonous."
Rose smiled, but didn't cave in. "I can't, I promised mum I'd have lunch with her tomorrow."
"Time machine, Rose."
Rose shook her head. "I promised."
The Doctor chose to believe that wasn't a jab at his piloting skills. "Suit yourself," he gave a shrug and disappeared right back on the ground underneath the console. He'd just found the two wires that needed reattaching when Rose spoke again.
"Let's go for a walk."
The Doctor tore himself from his work once more and rolled his eyes.
"We came here because you said you needed rest! Only you would still have unburnt energy after all that running-around-and-saving-the-world business."
"Shut up," Rose gave an embarrassed laugh and kicked his foot lightly.
"Besides," he pulled his best incredulous expression. "Peckham, 29th of November 2006, half past two in the morning? Really?"
It wasn't nearly good enough to convince Rose.
"C'mon," she was smiling and looking straight at him. He couldn't say no to those eyes.
"You can pretend it's something exciting. Like... an ice planet. Or the Earth during the ice age."
He couldn't say no to that small pink hand reaching out to him.
* * * * * *
The Doctor followed Rose's lead out of the dark alley the TARDIS was parked in until they found themselves on a proper street. She did a little turn and offered her grinning face towards the falling snow. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and reckoned it was no wonder there was nobody else in sight. In human terms, it was freezing.
The thick layer of glistening snow wiped out any difference between the street and the pavement. It also served as a sound damper, drowning out the regular nightly noises with surprising efficacy. The transformed city no longer seemed like the bustling London they knew. This was some strange, fragile new world in which silence reigned, and skyscrapers, parked cars and traffic signs rose up as beacons in a vast white sea. The streetlights illuminated the flurry of falling snowflakes just right, bringing them to life as fireflies.
In a small reversal of roles, Rose led the way. Her initial chattiness soon turned into sporadic hushes, until they too faded away, gently replaced by a comfortable silence. The uncanny stillness that surrounded them joined the cold in slowly creeping into their bones. Disrupting this peace with inane words felt akin to a transgression. As they wandered through the deserted city, Rose wordlessly slipped her icy hand into the Doctor's pocket, where it joined his in a rehearsed motion. (In this, there was nothing inane.) He asked if she was cold and if they should go back; her answers were a yes and a no.
They never met a single soul as they walked, hand in hand. It was as though they were separated from the world, safe in a snow globe made just for the two of them. A bit too domestic for the Doctor; but tonight, just for tonight, it was perfect.
* * * * * *
"Thanks for walkin' with me," Rose slurred when they arrived in front of her apartment. Judging by how heavy her tongue was and the way she was dragging her feet, their outing had definitely succeeded in draining her of superfluous energy.
"Think you'll be able to sleep now?"
"Yeah," she smiled peacefully. "It wasn't too dull, was it?"
The Doctor made a little disapproving noise and shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, it wasn't the Second Satellite of Ystral or Woman Wept, but as far as-"
"'Twas still nice though," Rose mused softly, her eyes vaguely staring at the distance. "Everything's much nicer when I'm with you. Even home."
The Doctor felt something burst within him, and for one shining moment every fibre of his being yearned to kiss her sleepy eyes, her cold pink cheeks, her chapped lips. It was wrong and impossible and now she was looking at him and he hoped she couldn't tell (he hoped she could tell), and he had to do something - anything - he...
All he dared do was reach out and brush his knuckles across her cheek.
"Good night, Rose."
It was odd, but as he walked back towards the TARDIS, all that snow and all those buildings and the freezing, dark silence didn't seem the least bit remarkable.