Don't Blink - 7/?
Title: Don't Blink - 7/?
Authors: rosewarren and ladychi
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor?
Rating: PG
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~
The Doctor spent the evening in an unsettled frame of mind. The TARDIS was gone. They were in 1969 with no way - currently - of getting home. A mysterious girl named Sally Sparrow had handed him an envelope that contained the keys to getting out of 1969, but it looked like he had only part of the information required. And Rose...well, he resolved not to think about Rose, wet and pink from a bath, wrapped only in a towel...
The Doctor cleared his throat and forced his thoughts away. That was not an appropriate way of thinking about his companion. It was Rose, his best friend in the universe. To think of her that way would only complicate their friendship. She was young and human and he was an alien, and it was just absurd.
And Jackie Tyler might be gone to another universe, but she would still slap him silly if she knew the direction his thoughts were heading.
After looking over the papers and not seeing anything that screamed “Here’s how you do it! Be home before morning!” the Doctor turned on the television. He was just in time to see the late-night newscaster sign off for the evening. He sighed and turned the tv off. On impulse, he turned the set around, smiled, and shook his head ruefully. It was a Magpie Electricals set.
“Good for you,” the Doctor murmured. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”
Dropping back onto the couch, he looked around the small room. The lamp cast odd shadows on the walls. There were no books or magazines in sight. He could walk down and find an open shop, he supposed. Get some food, find something to keep him occupied until morning.
He stayed where he was. He was oddly reluctant to leave the flat while Rose was sleeping.
In the end his stomach won. He shrugged into his coat and, ignoring the key the landady had given them, used the sonic screwdriver on the lock. No one would be getting in without him. It would have to do.
Rose woke up to sounds of traffic in the street outside. Someone in the flat above was taking a shower. She could faintly hear the crying of a baby.
Just like home, she thought, and rolled over and hid her head beneath the pillow.
A moment later she remembered where she was and why she was there. Sitting up, she looked around the bedroom. One bed, made up with white sheets and a plain blue and white quilt. She peered closely at the quilt. It was very pretty and looked handmade, and she was a bit surprised that it was just laying around in a furnished flat.
Across the room from the bed was a dresser. The mirror suspended above it reflected Rose, sitting up in bed with no clothes on. She yawned and lazily pulled the sheet up to her chin. There was a small table next to the bed, and the clock showed that it was eight o’clock. Rose had no idea if that was the correct time or not. The Doctor would tell her the time when she asked, right down to the last nano-second.
She stood up and wrapped the towel around her body again. She stuck her head out the door, looked around for the Doctor, and hurried for the bathroom when she didn't see him anywhere.
Closing the door, she dropped both towel and sheet and hastily tugged on her underthings. They were thankfully dry, as were her socks. Rose splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the worst of the snarls.
She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised to see the sparkle in her own eyes. She was no longer upset. She still missed Jackie, of course, she always would. But she was here now, and she was with the Doctor. Given the choice, this is where she would want to be. Now all they had to do was solve this mess. It was an adventure, and she was as excited as she had been on any other adventure. Rose smiled at herself.
Wearing her grey sweats and white t-shirt and carrying her hoodie jacket, she set out to find the Doctor. It wasn’t hard to do. He was in the living room, watching telly, reading the morning paper, and eating buttered toast. Her stomach growled impatiently and Rose flushed from embarrassment.
“Good morning!” He jumped up, scattering newsprint and crumbs. “Sleep well?”
“I did, yeah. You?” Rose sat down in the chair beside the sofa.
“Rose. You know I don’t sleep! Well, hardly ever,” he amended. “Hungry? You must be hungry after all the fun we had yesterday. Toast? The toaster in the kitchen was a bit dodgy, but luckily I have the sonic screwdriver. The toast is perfectly toasted.” He held out the plate, presenting it to her as if it contained a wealth of edible delicacies instead of buttered toast.
She accepted the plate with a smile of thanks. “Did you do the shopping?” she asked, amused.
“There’s a shop just down the street and around the corner,” he said, sitting back down. “Lovely woman runs it. She’s called Mrs. Kirby and she sells the most delicious sticky buns! Makes them herself.”
Rose looked around, not seeing any sticky buns. She looked back at the Doctor with her eyebrows raised.
“Well,” he said guiltily, “they were very good. We’ll get you a sticky bun later,” he promised.
“Toast is fine,” Rose reassured him, taking a bite. “What’s going on?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the television.
“Americans are planning a flight to the moon,” the Doctor said casually. “I imagine they’ll be walking on the surface around, oh, July 20?”
Rose smiled in delight. “Are you kidding me? We’ll get to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon?”
“He’ll take a giant leap for mankind,” the Doctor agreed solemnly.
“Oh, but that’s wonderful!” she said. “To think that we’ll see it happen!”
“I could have taken you there any time you wanted,” the Doctor pointed out.
“Yeah, but this is different. We’ll be here!”
The Doctor sighed. “All of time and space, and you’ve never been happier than now that we’re stuck here.”
“Could be worse,” she pointed out, finishing her toast. “Could be a black hole.”
“You could have spaghetti coming out of your mouth,” the Doctor agreed, and laid his hand underneath of his chin, affecting an Ood-voice. “We must leave. We must leave! We must leave... here.”
Rose laughed and tousled his hair as she walked back. “That's just a little bit creepy, you know.”
The Doctor beamed. “Been working on that for ages!”
They ate more toast, channel surfed - much faster when your choices were limited to just a few channels and you had to stand up to change the channel every time - and looked over the newspaper for any local news that might be of interest.
None of it was, but Rose enjoyed reading the comics page anyway.
Leaving the Doctor with the telly, she quickly tidied up the kitchen, putting way the groceries he’d carried home and washing the bowl he’d used the night before to clean her head. Lightly touching her scalp, she decided that it was healing just fine without any more intervention.
Rose cleaned up the small bath and made the bed. It was almost like living back home with Jackie, she thought wryly. Back then she’d done most of the cleaning and washing up. At least the Doctor had made breakfast for her.
When she was done she returned to the living room. The Doctor had turned off the television and was studying a stack of photographs. Rose recognized them as the house they’d been standing in when they’d been sent back to this time.
“Are we gonna go write on some walls?” she asked, pulling on her jacket and pulling the zip up. “I’m ready for action.”
The Doctor glanced over as she spoke. His gaze was level with the zip on her jacket, and he seemed to be staring at nothing for a moment.
“Doctor?” Rose prompted when he didn’t move or say anything. “You all right?”
The Doctor was not all right. In fact, he was not at all feeling like himself. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. “Walls. Writing on them. Yes.” He put the photographs back in the envelope and slid it into his coat pocket, determined to wipe out the image of Rose’s t-shirt, snug and white and clearly showing the outline of her bra underneath. What was wrong with him? Time Lords did not have this sort of reaction. Well, they usually didn’t. He seemed to react that way around Rose Tyler with increasing frequency.
“Oh! I almost forgot. Here you go.” He reached into a pocket and pulled something out. “One final step here, and we’ll be on our way.”
Rose accepted the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste with an excited squeal.
“Mine’s blue,” he said. “Thought you might like the pink one.”
“Yay! Thank you!” She gave him a quick hug before dashing back to the bathroom.
“I’m ready for Woolworth’s!” Rose declared as they stepped onto the street. “Any idea where it is?”
“Not too far, as it happens.” The Doctor took her hand in his as they walked, telling himself firmly that this was just another ordinary day. No reason to suddenly feel excited just because Rose Tyler was holding his hand.
At Woolworth’s they gathered up as many mirrors as they could get.
“Are you sure we need all of these?” Rose asked, steadying the shopping cart as the Doctor added yet another full-length mirror. They were pretty cheap, but there had to be at least eight in the cart so far.
The Doctor studied the display of mirrors. “Maybe, maybe not. But we’ll be ready.” He grinned at her and headed down another aisle, his brown coat flapping behind him.
Rose caught the glance of a woman standing nearby. She was tall and blonde, her hair massively teased and sprayed in place on top of her head. She wore a blue minidress and matching eyeshadow, and she was looking at Rose with a suspicious expression.
Rose couldn’t blame her. She and the Doctor were not dressed for 1969, and Rose’s bare face and straight, smooth bob were out of place as well. She said the first thing that popped into her head, even though the Doctor would not have considered any explanations to be necessary.
“We’re opening a dance studio,” Rose explained, gesturing to the mirrors.
The woman smiled absently and walked away.
Rose shook her head and followed the Doctor. She was distracted by a display of makeup. Blue and green eyeshadows seemed to be the popular colors of the day, along with pale lipsticks and very dark mascara. Rose picked up a package of black mascara, reading the package. It was similar to the stuff she used to buy at Boots, but it was just different enough to remind her that she was in an older time.
She dropped the mascara into the shopping cart and was reaching for a blue eyeshadow - just to see what it would look like - when the Doctor came back.
“Rose! Come on. Lots to do today.”
“Just a sec.” Rose passed over the eyeshadows and picked up a tube of pink lipstick.
“Come on!” the Doctor said again, taking the shopping cart and wheeling it away from Rose.
“You’re bein’ rude, you know,” Rose told his back.
He didn’t hear her, hurrying through the aisle with the shopping cart. Rose sighed a huge sigh - just for her own benefit, since the Doctor certainly wasn’t paying any attention - and followed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, catching up and putting the lipstick in the cart.
“Found some stands,” he said, and would explain no more until they were in front of the display.
Rose stood and looked at the shelf of wooden stands. “What are they?’’ she asked.
He seemed disappointed that she wasn’t as excited as he was.
“The mirrors are meant to hang on walls, but what we need are mirrors that can support themselves. That way we can prop them up in front of a Weeping Angel and make it look at itself! Then it can’t move!” He beamed at her proudly, waiting for her to acknowledge his brilliance.
Rose nodded. “That’s a good idea!”
“I know!”
Giggling like fools, they added the stands to the cart.
“They come with some screws,” the Doctor said. “I’ll just sonic them to the mirrors and we’ll be all set.”
Rose picked up one of the stands and turned it over in her hand. “Will they support the mirrors?”
“Oh, I’ll give ‘em a boost of power.”
Once the cart was loaded, Rose waited for the Doctor to head to the front of the store. He stood there, staring at the cart. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the envelope again. Shuffling through some photos, he studied one and then nodded.
“We need black paint and some brushes,” he said, and looked around the store. “Does Woolworth’s have paint?”
Luckily this one had a can of black paint and brushes, and they set off to pay for everything.
“Sunglasses,” the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by a display.
“Sunglasses?” Rose echoed. Honestly, sometimes she could not keep up with the way his mind worked. It wasn’t particularly sunny outside today.
“Sunglasses,” the Doctor pronounced. He plucked two pairs of glasses from the display and kept going, pushing the shopping cart ahead of him. Rose tried to take control of the cart and was firmly pushed aside.
“I have it,” he said, and it was a bit unlike him, enough so that Rose blinked in surprise. Usually he was happy to have her push shopping carts while he wandered the aisles wherever they happened to be, adding things at random.
At the register, the Doctor unloaded the mirrors, the stands, the sunglasses, and Rose’s makeup. The mascara and lipstick made him pause, but one look at Rose told him not to make an issue of it.
“That will be twenty-four pounds,” the salesclerk said, and the Doctor dug that amount out of his suit pocket. Rose didn’t question where he got the money, but the Doctor glanced at her a bit guiltily. He must have gotten more than food when he went out last night while she was sleeping.
Well, she wasn’t going to complain. She’d find a job so they’d have a legitimate source of income, and then they could figure out how to get out of here.
“We’re never gonna walk with all this, are we?” Rose asked once they were outside on the street. Their hands were pretty full of mirrors.
“Nah, of course not! Here we are!” The Doctor went to the curb and raised a hand. Almost instantly a taxi pulled over.
The Doctor peered in. The driver had a gold hoop earring and a stuffed parrot perched on the dashboard. Perfect.
“Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Rose. Have you heard of us?”
“Blimey, but I’ve heard of you!” The driver hopped out to open the back door of the car for Rose. “You got me three weeks’ paid holiday, you did!”
Rose smiled at him and allowed him to urge her into the car. The driver popped open the boot and helped the Doctor set the Woolworth’s bags inside. The Doctor handed Rose the can of black paint.
“You folks redecorating some?”
“Something like that.”
“Lotta mirrors there! They for the bedroom?” The driver nudged the Doctor’s arm in a far-too-familiar way, grinning.
Rose, sitting inside the car but able to hear every word, rolled her eyes. Males were males no matter where they came from, sometimes. She was surprised to see the Doctor flush.
She was still staring as he gave the driver a stern look and got into the cab beside Rose.
“It’s warm out here,” he complained when he saw her looking at him.
“Seriously? It’s kind of cool this morning,” she said innocently, and he frowned at her.
“Where to?” the driver asked before the Doctor could think of a reply.
“Wester Drumlins! Here we are!” The Doctor opened the door and hopped out, letting Rose climb out and shut the door behind them. He retrieved the mirrors from the boot and set them on the ground.
“Thank you, Davey,” Rose said to the driver. The Doctor had been quieter than usual on the ride over, and Davey had filled in the silence with tales of crazy human passengers.
“You’re welcome, Rose! No, no need to pay the fare!” he added when she looked around for the Doctor and motioned that he should pay. “Never need to pay us, not the two of you!” And Davey was off in his yellow cab.
“He was nice,” Rose said, staring after him.
“Yes,” the Doctor said shortly, still a bit miffed about the mirrors-for-the-bedroom comment.
Rose was about to ask what was wrong when she looked beyond the Doctor into the yard. She shivered. The house looked as empty and deserted as when they had first seen it, even though it was several decades earlier than before.
“Do you see any of those statues?” she asked, her heart starting to race at the thought.
“No.” The Doctor pulled out the sunglasses he had bought. They were plain and cheap, and Rose wasn’t sure why he had bothered with them. Then the Doctor took out the sonic screwdriver and aimed them at the lenses. Suddenly the cheap lenses gained a reflective surface. He handed a pair to Rose.
“Put those on,” he told her. “Hold up a mirror. If one shows up, they’ll see their reflection in the lenses and freeze. Then you can set the mirror down in front of it.”
Rose put on the sunglasses. The reflective lenses looked out of place in the white plastic frame.
“Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“Is this gonna work?”
He’d sonicced his own cheap sunglasses and put them on, and was sitting on the ground affixing stands to mirrors so they could be propped upright.
“All we need to do, Rose, is get to the front room on the main floor. I’ll paint the message, you stay on the watch.”
Rose couldn’t hide her nervousness. “What if I don’t guard very well?”
“Well, now, that’s an interesting question,” the Doctor started, his interest clearly caught, and Rose sighed because she knew that once he began in that tone of voice he was capable of lecturing for quite a bit of time. “They’ve already sent us back once. Our potential futures are already gone, used up.”
“So we’re already...dried up?”
“Sort of.”
“What of we’re not, though? What if there’s still juice in us and we get sent back even farther in time?” She was unaccountably, unreasonably afraid. “What if we get sent back to different places and we never find each other?”
“Rose.” The Doctor stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
Rose let out her breath and held on, grateful for the contact.
His lips brushed the side of her head. “Okay?” he asked her.
Rose nodded. “Yeah.” She stepped back and sniffed.
“Remember, they want the TARDIS,” he reminded her. “If they can get into it everything is done for. We have to do everything the letter says and get it back before they can break into it.”
“I know,” Rose said, resolved now to do whatever had to be done. “Let’s go.”
Rose stood nervously at the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, whirling occasionally to check over her shoulder for the presence of angels. She was holding a mirror and wearing dark sunglasses in an already dim house, and her fear warred with her sense of the ridiculous for dominance.
Overhead, she heard something thump. She gasped and looked up. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“This is going to work, yeah?”
“Absolutely. They're quantum-locked, the angels are. We'll just have to keep an eye on them, is all.”
Thump. Thump. Rose's heart leapt to her throat and pounded away insistently. “Do you hear that?”
“Yep!” The Doctor seemed almost cheerful. “Just making sure I've got this right... Rose, come have a look! I don't want to accidentally cause a paradox.”
Rose walked backwards, looking left, then right, as she backed into the room with the large windows. A quick glance over in that direction ripped a scream from her throat.
“What?” The Doctor whirled and grabbed a mirror, freezing one of the angels just outside, its hands outstretched and open, a look of rage on its face. “One down, three to go.”
“Doctor, if we freeze them now, won't they still be frozen when Sally Sparrow comes?”
“Nope!” The Doctor bounced on his heels. “Lots of people come out here between 1969 and 2007, Rose. One of them will move the mirrors. Humans are so delightfully bad at letting things be.”
“All right. That's... reassuring, I suppose.” Rose glanced at the writing the Doctor had so painstakingly rendered.
BEWARE!
OH, AND DUCK! REALLY DUCK!
SALLY SPARROW
DUCK, NOW
LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR (1969)
“I quite like the 'love from the Doctor',” he said thoughtfully. “It's a nice touch, don't you think?”
“Lovely,” Rose said, bending down to help him secure the lid on a can of paint. “Let's get out of here quick, all right?”
“Yes.” The Doctor jumped to his feet. “See, that wasn't so - Rose?”
“Yeah?”
“We were both looking down just now.”
They whirled and froze another angel right at the door. Rose positioned one of the mirrors so it would remain stuck that way.
Rose breathed a sigh of relief. “Can we go now?” She was willing to walk all the way back to London, if it meant getting away from the house and its spooky atmosphere.
“One last thing,” the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by the door. He pulled out the stack of photographs again, and Rose thought that she’d better find something for him to carry them in, or they’d fall apart pretty quickly.
“No,” he muttered. “Not here.” He put the photos away and found a small sheet of paper. The writing wasn’t the curved Gallifreyan script he usually used, and Rose turned her head to look at it.
“Sally Sparrow says that one of the angels had a key in its hand,” the Doctor told Rose. “A key to the TARDIS.”
“So they got hold of one,” Rose said.
“Yep.” The Doctor paused. “Which means they must have gotten hold of one of ours. Which means that we have to leave one of ours for them to find.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was heading.
“My TARDIS key?” Rose protested. One hand went to the key, hanging around her neck.
“You’ll get it back,” the Doctor said. “I promise.”
She bit her lip. He smiled and stepped close to her, lifting the chain at the back of her neck.
“I know what it means to you,” he said quietly, sliding the key up and out from under Rose’s t-shirt. “You’ll get it back.”
She tried to nod but couldn’t. She pulled the chain over her head and held the key tightly in her palm for a moment. He covered her hand with his own.
“Rose, it will be all right. I promise you.”
She let go of the key, surrendering it to him.
The Doctor felt terrible. He was merely asking for a key, one that he’d given out to companions before Rose, and she was crying. He hated to make her cry, but they needed to leave a way into the TARDIS for Sally Sparrow.
“Here,” he said suddenly. He slipped the key off the chain and handed the chain back to Rose. “You hold onto this. You’ll need it for the key once we get back home.”
Rose held onto the chain. “What will you put the key on, then?”
He dug around in his pockets and came up with a length of twine. “Here we go! Perfect.” He tied the twine around the key, tied the ends in a knot, and looked around. He hung it from the hand of one of the frozen angels. Then he grabbed Rose’s hand.
“Run, Rose Tyler!”
They didn’t stop running until they were well away from the house and into town again. Then they collapsed against each other, adrenaline finally kicking in.
“We made it!” Rose exclaimed, hugging the Doctor happily. “We did it!”
“We are amazing,” he agreed, hugging her back.
Rose smiled happily and lifted her chain. “Feels so much lighter without the key,” she said, and the Doctor stopped her before she could put it back on.
“I think I have just the thing for that,” he said, and began digging around his pockets again.
Rose watched in amusement. There was no telling what he had in there. Sometimes she suspected he dropped things in and purposely forgot about them, just to be surprised weeks and months and even years later.
“Here we go.” He pulled out a small, black velvet pouch. Loosening the ties, he poured out the contents into his palm and held it out for Rose to see.
She blinked in surprise. A small silver key lay there, impossibly shiny. Next to it was a smaller, heart-shaped lock.
The Doctor cleared his throat when she didn’t say anything. “I found them in a bazaar while I was looking for parts for the TARDIS on Valentine Five.”
Rose nodded, her eyes still on the tiny charms in his hand.
“I, er, thought of you,” the Doctor continued. “They seemed like something you would like. If you don’t, though-”
“No, I love them!” Rose rushed to assure him. She picked up the key and threaded it onto her chain, then added the lock. She didn’t know if he was avoiding the obvious symbolism of the gift, or if it simply hadn’t occurred to him. Longings that she had not allowed herself to feel started to surface, and she quickly blinked away sudden tears before looking up at him again.
“They’re gorgeous,” she stated. “Thank you.” She slipped the chain over her head. While she always put the chain with its TARDIS key inside her shirts, she left it out now, with the small silver key and lock hanging for all to see.
The Doctor nodded, his eyes on the charms. It was entirely possible, he thought to himself, that he’d never before thought about what it would mean, for him to give Rose Tyler not only his heart, but the key to unlock it.
Eight
Authors: rosewarren and ladychi
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor?
Rating: PG
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~
The Doctor spent the evening in an unsettled frame of mind. The TARDIS was gone. They were in 1969 with no way - currently - of getting home. A mysterious girl named Sally Sparrow had handed him an envelope that contained the keys to getting out of 1969, but it looked like he had only part of the information required. And Rose...well, he resolved not to think about Rose, wet and pink from a bath, wrapped only in a towel...
The Doctor cleared his throat and forced his thoughts away. That was not an appropriate way of thinking about his companion. It was Rose, his best friend in the universe. To think of her that way would only complicate their friendship. She was young and human and he was an alien, and it was just absurd.
And Jackie Tyler might be gone to another universe, but she would still slap him silly if she knew the direction his thoughts were heading.
After looking over the papers and not seeing anything that screamed “Here’s how you do it! Be home before morning!” the Doctor turned on the television. He was just in time to see the late-night newscaster sign off for the evening. He sighed and turned the tv off. On impulse, he turned the set around, smiled, and shook his head ruefully. It was a Magpie Electricals set.
“Good for you,” the Doctor murmured. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”
Dropping back onto the couch, he looked around the small room. The lamp cast odd shadows on the walls. There were no books or magazines in sight. He could walk down and find an open shop, he supposed. Get some food, find something to keep him occupied until morning.
He stayed where he was. He was oddly reluctant to leave the flat while Rose was sleeping.
In the end his stomach won. He shrugged into his coat and, ignoring the key the landady had given them, used the sonic screwdriver on the lock. No one would be getting in without him. It would have to do.
Rose woke up to sounds of traffic in the street outside. Someone in the flat above was taking a shower. She could faintly hear the crying of a baby.
Just like home, she thought, and rolled over and hid her head beneath the pillow.
A moment later she remembered where she was and why she was there. Sitting up, she looked around the bedroom. One bed, made up with white sheets and a plain blue and white quilt. She peered closely at the quilt. It was very pretty and looked handmade, and she was a bit surprised that it was just laying around in a furnished flat.
Across the room from the bed was a dresser. The mirror suspended above it reflected Rose, sitting up in bed with no clothes on. She yawned and lazily pulled the sheet up to her chin. There was a small table next to the bed, and the clock showed that it was eight o’clock. Rose had no idea if that was the correct time or not. The Doctor would tell her the time when she asked, right down to the last nano-second.
She stood up and wrapped the towel around her body again. She stuck her head out the door, looked around for the Doctor, and hurried for the bathroom when she didn't see him anywhere.
Closing the door, she dropped both towel and sheet and hastily tugged on her underthings. They were thankfully dry, as were her socks. Rose splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the worst of the snarls.
She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised to see the sparkle in her own eyes. She was no longer upset. She still missed Jackie, of course, she always would. But she was here now, and she was with the Doctor. Given the choice, this is where she would want to be. Now all they had to do was solve this mess. It was an adventure, and she was as excited as she had been on any other adventure. Rose smiled at herself.
Wearing her grey sweats and white t-shirt and carrying her hoodie jacket, she set out to find the Doctor. It wasn’t hard to do. He was in the living room, watching telly, reading the morning paper, and eating buttered toast. Her stomach growled impatiently and Rose flushed from embarrassment.
“Good morning!” He jumped up, scattering newsprint and crumbs. “Sleep well?”
“I did, yeah. You?” Rose sat down in the chair beside the sofa.
“Rose. You know I don’t sleep! Well, hardly ever,” he amended. “Hungry? You must be hungry after all the fun we had yesterday. Toast? The toaster in the kitchen was a bit dodgy, but luckily I have the sonic screwdriver. The toast is perfectly toasted.” He held out the plate, presenting it to her as if it contained a wealth of edible delicacies instead of buttered toast.
She accepted the plate with a smile of thanks. “Did you do the shopping?” she asked, amused.
“There’s a shop just down the street and around the corner,” he said, sitting back down. “Lovely woman runs it. She’s called Mrs. Kirby and she sells the most delicious sticky buns! Makes them herself.”
Rose looked around, not seeing any sticky buns. She looked back at the Doctor with her eyebrows raised.
“Well,” he said guiltily, “they were very good. We’ll get you a sticky bun later,” he promised.
“Toast is fine,” Rose reassured him, taking a bite. “What’s going on?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the television.
“Americans are planning a flight to the moon,” the Doctor said casually. “I imagine they’ll be walking on the surface around, oh, July 20?”
Rose smiled in delight. “Are you kidding me? We’ll get to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon?”
“He’ll take a giant leap for mankind,” the Doctor agreed solemnly.
“Oh, but that’s wonderful!” she said. “To think that we’ll see it happen!”
“I could have taken you there any time you wanted,” the Doctor pointed out.
“Yeah, but this is different. We’ll be here!”
The Doctor sighed. “All of time and space, and you’ve never been happier than now that we’re stuck here.”
“Could be worse,” she pointed out, finishing her toast. “Could be a black hole.”
“You could have spaghetti coming out of your mouth,” the Doctor agreed, and laid his hand underneath of his chin, affecting an Ood-voice. “We must leave. We must leave! We must leave... here.”
Rose laughed and tousled his hair as she walked back. “That's just a little bit creepy, you know.”
The Doctor beamed. “Been working on that for ages!”
They ate more toast, channel surfed - much faster when your choices were limited to just a few channels and you had to stand up to change the channel every time - and looked over the newspaper for any local news that might be of interest.
None of it was, but Rose enjoyed reading the comics page anyway.
Leaving the Doctor with the telly, she quickly tidied up the kitchen, putting way the groceries he’d carried home and washing the bowl he’d used the night before to clean her head. Lightly touching her scalp, she decided that it was healing just fine without any more intervention.
Rose cleaned up the small bath and made the bed. It was almost like living back home with Jackie, she thought wryly. Back then she’d done most of the cleaning and washing up. At least the Doctor had made breakfast for her.
When she was done she returned to the living room. The Doctor had turned off the television and was studying a stack of photographs. Rose recognized them as the house they’d been standing in when they’d been sent back to this time.
“Are we gonna go write on some walls?” she asked, pulling on her jacket and pulling the zip up. “I’m ready for action.”
The Doctor glanced over as she spoke. His gaze was level with the zip on her jacket, and he seemed to be staring at nothing for a moment.
“Doctor?” Rose prompted when he didn’t move or say anything. “You all right?”
The Doctor was not all right. In fact, he was not at all feeling like himself. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. “Walls. Writing on them. Yes.” He put the photographs back in the envelope and slid it into his coat pocket, determined to wipe out the image of Rose’s t-shirt, snug and white and clearly showing the outline of her bra underneath. What was wrong with him? Time Lords did not have this sort of reaction. Well, they usually didn’t. He seemed to react that way around Rose Tyler with increasing frequency.
“Oh! I almost forgot. Here you go.” He reached into a pocket and pulled something out. “One final step here, and we’ll be on our way.”
Rose accepted the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste with an excited squeal.
“Mine’s blue,” he said. “Thought you might like the pink one.”
“Yay! Thank you!” She gave him a quick hug before dashing back to the bathroom.
“I’m ready for Woolworth’s!” Rose declared as they stepped onto the street. “Any idea where it is?”
“Not too far, as it happens.” The Doctor took her hand in his as they walked, telling himself firmly that this was just another ordinary day. No reason to suddenly feel excited just because Rose Tyler was holding his hand.
At Woolworth’s they gathered up as many mirrors as they could get.
“Are you sure we need all of these?” Rose asked, steadying the shopping cart as the Doctor added yet another full-length mirror. They were pretty cheap, but there had to be at least eight in the cart so far.
The Doctor studied the display of mirrors. “Maybe, maybe not. But we’ll be ready.” He grinned at her and headed down another aisle, his brown coat flapping behind him.
Rose caught the glance of a woman standing nearby. She was tall and blonde, her hair massively teased and sprayed in place on top of her head. She wore a blue minidress and matching eyeshadow, and she was looking at Rose with a suspicious expression.
Rose couldn’t blame her. She and the Doctor were not dressed for 1969, and Rose’s bare face and straight, smooth bob were out of place as well. She said the first thing that popped into her head, even though the Doctor would not have considered any explanations to be necessary.
“We’re opening a dance studio,” Rose explained, gesturing to the mirrors.
The woman smiled absently and walked away.
Rose shook her head and followed the Doctor. She was distracted by a display of makeup. Blue and green eyeshadows seemed to be the popular colors of the day, along with pale lipsticks and very dark mascara. Rose picked up a package of black mascara, reading the package. It was similar to the stuff she used to buy at Boots, but it was just different enough to remind her that she was in an older time.
She dropped the mascara into the shopping cart and was reaching for a blue eyeshadow - just to see what it would look like - when the Doctor came back.
“Rose! Come on. Lots to do today.”
“Just a sec.” Rose passed over the eyeshadows and picked up a tube of pink lipstick.
“Come on!” the Doctor said again, taking the shopping cart and wheeling it away from Rose.
“You’re bein’ rude, you know,” Rose told his back.
He didn’t hear her, hurrying through the aisle with the shopping cart. Rose sighed a huge sigh - just for her own benefit, since the Doctor certainly wasn’t paying any attention - and followed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, catching up and putting the lipstick in the cart.
“Found some stands,” he said, and would explain no more until they were in front of the display.
Rose stood and looked at the shelf of wooden stands. “What are they?’’ she asked.
He seemed disappointed that she wasn’t as excited as he was.
“The mirrors are meant to hang on walls, but what we need are mirrors that can support themselves. That way we can prop them up in front of a Weeping Angel and make it look at itself! Then it can’t move!” He beamed at her proudly, waiting for her to acknowledge his brilliance.
Rose nodded. “That’s a good idea!”
“I know!”
Giggling like fools, they added the stands to the cart.
“They come with some screws,” the Doctor said. “I’ll just sonic them to the mirrors and we’ll be all set.”
Rose picked up one of the stands and turned it over in her hand. “Will they support the mirrors?”
“Oh, I’ll give ‘em a boost of power.”
Once the cart was loaded, Rose waited for the Doctor to head to the front of the store. He stood there, staring at the cart. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the envelope again. Shuffling through some photos, he studied one and then nodded.
“We need black paint and some brushes,” he said, and looked around the store. “Does Woolworth’s have paint?”
Luckily this one had a can of black paint and brushes, and they set off to pay for everything.
“Sunglasses,” the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by a display.
“Sunglasses?” Rose echoed. Honestly, sometimes she could not keep up with the way his mind worked. It wasn’t particularly sunny outside today.
“Sunglasses,” the Doctor pronounced. He plucked two pairs of glasses from the display and kept going, pushing the shopping cart ahead of him. Rose tried to take control of the cart and was firmly pushed aside.
“I have it,” he said, and it was a bit unlike him, enough so that Rose blinked in surprise. Usually he was happy to have her push shopping carts while he wandered the aisles wherever they happened to be, adding things at random.
At the register, the Doctor unloaded the mirrors, the stands, the sunglasses, and Rose’s makeup. The mascara and lipstick made him pause, but one look at Rose told him not to make an issue of it.
“That will be twenty-four pounds,” the salesclerk said, and the Doctor dug that amount out of his suit pocket. Rose didn’t question where he got the money, but the Doctor glanced at her a bit guiltily. He must have gotten more than food when he went out last night while she was sleeping.
Well, she wasn’t going to complain. She’d find a job so they’d have a legitimate source of income, and then they could figure out how to get out of here.
“We’re never gonna walk with all this, are we?” Rose asked once they were outside on the street. Their hands were pretty full of mirrors.
“Nah, of course not! Here we are!” The Doctor went to the curb and raised a hand. Almost instantly a taxi pulled over.
The Doctor peered in. The driver had a gold hoop earring and a stuffed parrot perched on the dashboard. Perfect.
“Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Rose. Have you heard of us?”
“Blimey, but I’ve heard of you!” The driver hopped out to open the back door of the car for Rose. “You got me three weeks’ paid holiday, you did!”
Rose smiled at him and allowed him to urge her into the car. The driver popped open the boot and helped the Doctor set the Woolworth’s bags inside. The Doctor handed Rose the can of black paint.
“You folks redecorating some?”
“Something like that.”
“Lotta mirrors there! They for the bedroom?” The driver nudged the Doctor’s arm in a far-too-familiar way, grinning.
Rose, sitting inside the car but able to hear every word, rolled her eyes. Males were males no matter where they came from, sometimes. She was surprised to see the Doctor flush.
She was still staring as he gave the driver a stern look and got into the cab beside Rose.
“It’s warm out here,” he complained when he saw her looking at him.
“Seriously? It’s kind of cool this morning,” she said innocently, and he frowned at her.
“Where to?” the driver asked before the Doctor could think of a reply.
“Wester Drumlins! Here we are!” The Doctor opened the door and hopped out, letting Rose climb out and shut the door behind them. He retrieved the mirrors from the boot and set them on the ground.
“Thank you, Davey,” Rose said to the driver. The Doctor had been quieter than usual on the ride over, and Davey had filled in the silence with tales of crazy human passengers.
“You’re welcome, Rose! No, no need to pay the fare!” he added when she looked around for the Doctor and motioned that he should pay. “Never need to pay us, not the two of you!” And Davey was off in his yellow cab.
“He was nice,” Rose said, staring after him.
“Yes,” the Doctor said shortly, still a bit miffed about the mirrors-for-the-bedroom comment.
Rose was about to ask what was wrong when she looked beyond the Doctor into the yard. She shivered. The house looked as empty and deserted as when they had first seen it, even though it was several decades earlier than before.
“Do you see any of those statues?” she asked, her heart starting to race at the thought.
“No.” The Doctor pulled out the sunglasses he had bought. They were plain and cheap, and Rose wasn’t sure why he had bothered with them. Then the Doctor took out the sonic screwdriver and aimed them at the lenses. Suddenly the cheap lenses gained a reflective surface. He handed a pair to Rose.
“Put those on,” he told her. “Hold up a mirror. If one shows up, they’ll see their reflection in the lenses and freeze. Then you can set the mirror down in front of it.”
Rose put on the sunglasses. The reflective lenses looked out of place in the white plastic frame.
“Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“Is this gonna work?”
He’d sonicced his own cheap sunglasses and put them on, and was sitting on the ground affixing stands to mirrors so they could be propped upright.
“All we need to do, Rose, is get to the front room on the main floor. I’ll paint the message, you stay on the watch.”
Rose couldn’t hide her nervousness. “What if I don’t guard very well?”
“Well, now, that’s an interesting question,” the Doctor started, his interest clearly caught, and Rose sighed because she knew that once he began in that tone of voice he was capable of lecturing for quite a bit of time. “They’ve already sent us back once. Our potential futures are already gone, used up.”
“So we’re already...dried up?”
“Sort of.”
“What of we’re not, though? What if there’s still juice in us and we get sent back even farther in time?” She was unaccountably, unreasonably afraid. “What if we get sent back to different places and we never find each other?”
“Rose.” The Doctor stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
Rose let out her breath and held on, grateful for the contact.
His lips brushed the side of her head. “Okay?” he asked her.
Rose nodded. “Yeah.” She stepped back and sniffed.
“Remember, they want the TARDIS,” he reminded her. “If they can get into it everything is done for. We have to do everything the letter says and get it back before they can break into it.”
“I know,” Rose said, resolved now to do whatever had to be done. “Let’s go.”
Rose stood nervously at the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, whirling occasionally to check over her shoulder for the presence of angels. She was holding a mirror and wearing dark sunglasses in an already dim house, and her fear warred with her sense of the ridiculous for dominance.
Overhead, she heard something thump. She gasped and looked up. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“This is going to work, yeah?”
“Absolutely. They're quantum-locked, the angels are. We'll just have to keep an eye on them, is all.”
Thump. Thump. Rose's heart leapt to her throat and pounded away insistently. “Do you hear that?”
“Yep!” The Doctor seemed almost cheerful. “Just making sure I've got this right... Rose, come have a look! I don't want to accidentally cause a paradox.”
Rose walked backwards, looking left, then right, as she backed into the room with the large windows. A quick glance over in that direction ripped a scream from her throat.
“What?” The Doctor whirled and grabbed a mirror, freezing one of the angels just outside, its hands outstretched and open, a look of rage on its face. “One down, three to go.”
“Doctor, if we freeze them now, won't they still be frozen when Sally Sparrow comes?”
“Nope!” The Doctor bounced on his heels. “Lots of people come out here between 1969 and 2007, Rose. One of them will move the mirrors. Humans are so delightfully bad at letting things be.”
“All right. That's... reassuring, I suppose.” Rose glanced at the writing the Doctor had so painstakingly rendered.
BEWARE!
OH, AND DUCK! REALLY DUCK!
SALLY SPARROW
DUCK, NOW
LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR (1969)
“I quite like the 'love from the Doctor',” he said thoughtfully. “It's a nice touch, don't you think?”
“Lovely,” Rose said, bending down to help him secure the lid on a can of paint. “Let's get out of here quick, all right?”
“Yes.” The Doctor jumped to his feet. “See, that wasn't so - Rose?”
“Yeah?”
“We were both looking down just now.”
They whirled and froze another angel right at the door. Rose positioned one of the mirrors so it would remain stuck that way.
Rose breathed a sigh of relief. “Can we go now?” She was willing to walk all the way back to London, if it meant getting away from the house and its spooky atmosphere.
“One last thing,” the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by the door. He pulled out the stack of photographs again, and Rose thought that she’d better find something for him to carry them in, or they’d fall apart pretty quickly.
“No,” he muttered. “Not here.” He put the photos away and found a small sheet of paper. The writing wasn’t the curved Gallifreyan script he usually used, and Rose turned her head to look at it.
“Sally Sparrow says that one of the angels had a key in its hand,” the Doctor told Rose. “A key to the TARDIS.”
“So they got hold of one,” Rose said.
“Yep.” The Doctor paused. “Which means they must have gotten hold of one of ours. Which means that we have to leave one of ours for them to find.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was heading.
“My TARDIS key?” Rose protested. One hand went to the key, hanging around her neck.
“You’ll get it back,” the Doctor said. “I promise.”
She bit her lip. He smiled and stepped close to her, lifting the chain at the back of her neck.
“I know what it means to you,” he said quietly, sliding the key up and out from under Rose’s t-shirt. “You’ll get it back.”
She tried to nod but couldn’t. She pulled the chain over her head and held the key tightly in her palm for a moment. He covered her hand with his own.
“Rose, it will be all right. I promise you.”
She let go of the key, surrendering it to him.
The Doctor felt terrible. He was merely asking for a key, one that he’d given out to companions before Rose, and she was crying. He hated to make her cry, but they needed to leave a way into the TARDIS for Sally Sparrow.
“Here,” he said suddenly. He slipped the key off the chain and handed the chain back to Rose. “You hold onto this. You’ll need it for the key once we get back home.”
Rose held onto the chain. “What will you put the key on, then?”
He dug around in his pockets and came up with a length of twine. “Here we go! Perfect.” He tied the twine around the key, tied the ends in a knot, and looked around. He hung it from the hand of one of the frozen angels. Then he grabbed Rose’s hand.
“Run, Rose Tyler!”
They didn’t stop running until they were well away from the house and into town again. Then they collapsed against each other, adrenaline finally kicking in.
“We made it!” Rose exclaimed, hugging the Doctor happily. “We did it!”
“We are amazing,” he agreed, hugging her back.
Rose smiled happily and lifted her chain. “Feels so much lighter without the key,” she said, and the Doctor stopped her before she could put it back on.
“I think I have just the thing for that,” he said, and began digging around his pockets again.
Rose watched in amusement. There was no telling what he had in there. Sometimes she suspected he dropped things in and purposely forgot about them, just to be surprised weeks and months and even years later.
“Here we go.” He pulled out a small, black velvet pouch. Loosening the ties, he poured out the contents into his palm and held it out for Rose to see.
She blinked in surprise. A small silver key lay there, impossibly shiny. Next to it was a smaller, heart-shaped lock.
The Doctor cleared his throat when she didn’t say anything. “I found them in a bazaar while I was looking for parts for the TARDIS on Valentine Five.”
Rose nodded, her eyes still on the tiny charms in his hand.
“I, er, thought of you,” the Doctor continued. “They seemed like something you would like. If you don’t, though-”
“No, I love them!” Rose rushed to assure him. She picked up the key and threaded it onto her chain, then added the lock. She didn’t know if he was avoiding the obvious symbolism of the gift, or if it simply hadn’t occurred to him. Longings that she had not allowed herself to feel started to surface, and she quickly blinked away sudden tears before looking up at him again.
“They’re gorgeous,” she stated. “Thank you.” She slipped the chain over her head. While she always put the chain with its TARDIS key inside her shirts, she left it out now, with the small silver key and lock hanging for all to see.
The Doctor nodded, his eyes on the charms. It was entirely possible, he thought to himself, that he’d never before thought about what it would mean, for him to give Rose Tyler not only his heart, but the key to unlock it.
Eight