Fic: Instructions for Liaising With Your Parallel Self (Rose/Ten2/Rose)
Title: Instructions for Liaising With Your Parallel Self (Don't Try This at Home)
Author: the_tenzo
Characters/Pairing: Rose/Ten2/Rose (yes, really)
Rating: Adult
Word Count: ~3500
Summary: Sometimes inter-dimensional transportation goes wrong. But sometimes, it goes very, very right. Rose Tyler, meet Rose Tyler.
A/N: Rosecest: the campaign starts here! Okay, I don't even know what to say about this. As part of the doctor_rose_fix -athon shinyopals left a prompt for Rose/Ten2/Rose. This is my fill for that. *holds head*
The intercom on the Doctor’s desk made some unhealthy spluttering noises.
It did that sometimes, but he couldn’t really fault Torchwood for pawning a dodgy phone off on him, considering he wasn’t even officially an employee. Rose had arranged it all, with a little workspace set up in an out-of-the-way corner, so he’d be close to hand if his expertise was ever needed (ostensibly), or just to keep him off the street and out of trouble (probably). He also was given plenty of bits and bobs to tinker with, but he’d just exhausted his supply on building a new sonic screwdriver. Pickings were a bit slim in both the thingamabob and (very important) whatsit departments. Thus, he’d spent most of the morning sonicing ("I’m calibrating it, Rose, thank you.") office supplies.
The intercom emitted some more static, and he was just about to aim his new screwdriver at it when an actual voice came through.
Rose.
"Doctor, could you, er, come down here? There might be a slight problem."
The sharp edges around ‘slight’ indicated a major problem of perhaps disastrous proportions. He hoped.
"On my way." The pile of paperclips he’d been blasting with the sonic shot off the desktop and embedded themselves in a ceiling tile.
Was he excited or worried? These human emotions were still so difficult to sort out. Whatever it was behind the doors he now faced, though, he was ready. He might have one less heart, but "world-saving" was still the top skill on his CV. Followed closely by cross-stitch, but that information was only given out on a need-to-know basis.
Taking a deep breath, he flung open the double-doors: "Everyone, stand back!" Oh, that felt good! "Just tell me what’s wrong and- What?"
Rose was standing by a lab table, hands clasped behind her back, with a sheepish look on her lovely face. A very sheepish look, complete with bitten lower lip and deeply creased brow.
"What?" the Doctor asked again.
Rose inclined her head to indicate an area just over his shoulder. He hated when things snuck up behind him. It was absolutely the oldest trick in the villain book, and just plain boring.
"All right," the Doctor huffed as he spun on a heel and turned (with a bit of a flourish, if he was honest). "What is... it. Oh."
Behind him, sitting primly in an office chair was... Rose Tyler, grinning.
"Hello," she said, and gave a little wave.
"Hello." He waved back, then spun around to make sure the first Rose was still there.
"Hello," the original Rose said, much more quietly, but also wiggling her fingers.
He swivelled his head around several more times, getting the full picture of two Roses, who were clearly different people but also clearly both Rose.
"Rose Tyler, there are two of you," he finally said, measuring his words out carefully because, in his head, they sounded so ridiculous.
"Yes," both Roses said at the same time.
"That’s not natural," he said.
"Oi, you can talk," the original Rose (whom he could identify because he’d seen her get dressed that morning) protested.
"So, is this your..." the other Rose addressed the original.
"Yeah, that’s him," Rose answered. Clearly they’d talked a bit before he was called in. "Doctor, meet Agent Rose Tyler. Agent Tyler, this is the Doctor."
"Just ‘Tyler’-no one ever calls me Rose, and Agent Tyler sounds a bit formal among friends." She gave a little whistle of appreciation. "Not bad," she said, running her eyes over the Doctor. "Good for you."
"Thanks!" the original Rose chirped, her sheepish brow-furrowing now replaced by a toothy smile.
***
The Doctor sucked on the end of his sonic screwdriver, a habit he’d never had before, but was considering taking up now. "What’s your favourite colour?"
"Pink!" In stereo.
"Favourite food?"
"Chips!" In stereo.
"Name of your first pet?"
"Sally," said Rose.
"She was a goldfish," said Tyler.
"But I had to flush her..."
"...because I forgot to feed her for a week."
The Doctor realised that he was clutching his head. Tightly. "This is impossible."
"Nah, just improbable," said Agent Tyler ("Just ‘Tyler,’ please.") cheerily.
"Okay, so tell me this, Tyler, if that is your real name...." (The original Rose rolled her eyes.) "What happened to you on 26 March, 2005?"
She got a faraway look in her eye for a moment, but sat up straighter in her chair and answered him quickly: "Easy: that’s the day I was recruited."
"Aha!" the Doctor barked, and stood up so he could tower over her a little bit. He quite enjoyed a good tower sometimes. "I knew it!"
"Knew what?" Rose asked. "Doctor, you’re being ridiculous."
"Well, what happened to you on 26 March, 2005?"
She sighed and said in an exasperated monotone: "That’s the day you took my hand and said just one word."
"Precisely!" The Doctor did some more towering, just for good measure. "So this impostor can’t be you."
"I’m finding this all rather ironic, coming from you," Rose said dryly.
The other Rose Tyler (the fake Rose Tyler, the Doctor reminded himself) cleared her throat. "If you don’t mind," she said, "I have a theory about what’s going on here."
"And who says I should trust you?" the Doctor shot back.
"Oh, for god’s sake," Rose sighed.
"Be nice," Agent Tyler chided playfully. "He’s got too good of an arse to let him get away."
"He’s not going anywhere and he knows it."
The Doctor took a step back and looked at them both sceptically. And then he covertly reached behind himself and felt his own bum.
***
"So, what’s that like, being a Time Agent?" Rose poured another three shots of Vodka out on the kitchen counter.
"‘S great," Tyler said, downing the shot in one smooth motion. "Adventure, intrigue, travel, things you’d never believe. This is actually not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. First time I’ve ever been sucked through a dimensional wormhole by my parallel self, though."
"Yeah, we’ll get that sorted out, I promise." Rose tossed her own shot back and involuntarily shuddered as it burned all the way down. "But we almost hit meltdown temperatures with the transwarp inversion platform yesterday and I reckon it needs to cool before we try again, if we don’t want to China Syndrome the whole unit."
"It’s no problem. Just another adventure, isn’t it?"
Rose poured another two shots and then put all three newly filled glasses onto a little tray, along with the bottle.
"Do you have any... I mean, back home, do you have someone? I met the Doctor, but..." Rose didn’t quite know how to phrase what she was asking any more delicately. Were there more Doctors out there? Or did this parallel Rose meet some swashbuckling Time Agent in place of the Doctor, and that’s where their realities split? It made her head hurt to contemplate. Or perhaps that was the vodka.
"I’m free as a bird, mate," Tyler said casually. "That’s the life of a Time Agent. All the danger and excitement and sex you could ever want, but sometimes I do miss..."
"A hand to hold?" Rose held a hand out tentatively, remembering the last time she had touched another version of herself. It had not ended well.
"Yeah."
Tyler’s hand was warm, strong, and a bit rough. Thankfully, there were no Reapers.
"This is nice," she said, and they stood there, in the middle of a harshly lit kitchen in London, until they lost the sense of time that they both had built their unusual lives around.
***
The Doctor craned his neck to try to see into the kitchen. "Oi, what’s taking so long?"
The two women appeared in the front room again, but there was something... off about them. Or on. It was hard to say. His Rose had changed into her usual lounging-around clothes, but the other one was still decked out in cargo trousers, a very tight t-shirt and short canvas jacket. Full Time Agent travelling regalia, to be sure. She probably had a vortex manipulator stuck into one of her many pockets, though chances were high that, out of its own dimension, it wouldn’t be functional. She’d have mentioned it, if it would be useful to get her back home, but already knowing it wasn’t, she kept it hidden for safety. Smart. Just like Rose Tyler.
"So," the Doctor offered, into what may or may not have been an awkward silence.
"So," Rose answered, her eyes fluttering back and forth between her duplicate and the Doctor.
"So." Tyler smiled guilelessly back at them. "I was accidentally cloned once!" Trust Rose to find the only other person in the universe who could use this line as an ice-breaker.
"Yeah?" Rose asked. "How’d that happen, then?"
The other woman just waved her hand dismissively. "The how is sort of boring. It was nice, while she was around, though. Good self-esteem: it pays off when you’re stuck with your clone for a month on an abandoned luxury liner in perpetual orbit around a class nine warp star."
"A month! Didn’t you get sick of talking to yourself?"
Tyler arched one eyebrow suggestively. "Who said there was much talking?"
Rose coughed, and not just a polite sort of attention-getting cough, either. She doubled over into a fit that lasted several seconds before recovering and pushing some strands of hair back into place. "No, but really?"
"Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. In fact, I know you have. But doesn’t everyone? It’s just that most people don’t actually get a chance to see what it’s really like."
It was the Doctor’s turn to pour himself a double and dispatch it with a wheeze. "Humans," he scoffed, refilling the glasses all around. "Honestly."
Tyler jabbed a thumb in his direction. "Is he not...?"
"It’s complicated," Rose said. "And he likes to pretend he’s so above it all."
"I am above fantasizing about having sex with myself."
Agent Tyler smiled slyly. "Liar. I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on you: there’s a man who doesn’t half fancy himself."
"When you say fancy-" the Doctor protested, his hands fluttering around in his hair, seemingly of their own accord.
"Yeah, all right," Tyler teased. "Whatever you say, mate. Whatever you say."
"So was it really... I mean, is it good? With yourself?" Rose asked tentatively.
***
This other, seemingly Earth-bound version of herself was a puzzle. Tyler could tell, she’d been around-led a life of adventure, and also pain. The two tended to go hand-in-hand, and the fact that this other version had experienced both in quantity was written in the way her smiling eyes were as haunted as they were joyous. They were the same deep pools of hurt and healing that greeted her own self in the mirror every day. This was not where the differences between them lay.
Being a traveller, a saver-of-lives and a bringer-of-death, it made a person hard. Not cold-not if you kept your empathy about you and your heart open. But this wonderful, thrilling, terrible life was so isolating. At first unintentionally, as you found fewer and fewer people who could relate to your experiences, and then later on purpose. It begins to hurt to even try to find solace with others, and easier to just avoid it all together.
But what about that hand to hold? That must be the source of the allure this not-quite-a-duplicate held. She still was able to make that deeper connection with others, because she’d shared that heart-break, and wonder, and joy with someone else. Tyler wondered, could this ever be her life? Her curtains; her wall-to-wall carpet; her bedroom?
For it was Rose’s bedroom that she now found herself in.
Oh, they’d talked-about the implications and fidelity and boundaries. Tyler found it quaint, and admirable, that even in such a unique and spontaneous circumstance, this pair were still so concerned about each other’s feelings. The Doctor spent a lot of time pretending to be only scientifically interested before finally admitting to a base sexual curiosity. He blamed it on being human, but refused to explain why that should be such a novelty for a man seemingly in his thirties.
Rose stood by the wardrobe, wrapped in a fluffy towel and still dripping a little bit. The Doctor was still in the shower. Tyler’s experience as a Time Agent had long ago led her to require that all lovers be scrubbed and disinfected prior to the act. The one or two times she’d let this slide, she’d very much regretted it later.
Tyler removed her own towel and let it drop to the floor in a heap, motioning for Rose to do the same. "It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Quite literally."
That drew a little laugh from Rose, who unfastened her own towel, and folded it up neatly.
"Make yourself comfortable." Tyler gestured to the bed.
She heard the water turn off in the bathroom, and figured she’d better start things off with Rose without further delay, if she didn’t want the awkward preliminaries to suck a third person into their orbit. It’s really always best to rip the plaster off quickly.
She approached the bed and separated the top sheet from all the other linens, flinging it over Rose’s naked body. This right here would be all the proof that the other woman needed that they were fundamentally identical, and would remove the faint miasma of doubt that still hung over the encounter.
Rose started to speak, but Tyler placed a finger over her lips. "No need," she whispered in her ear. Tyler began to run her hands up and down Rose’s body, with the sheet between them. She knew, no one ever did this. It felt so good, but sounded so counter-intuitive: sex was for skin-on-skin, not for artificial barriers.
And yet...
Rose’s nipples were hard and visible under the sheet, and a little moan escaped her lips. This was followed by another, similar sound from the other side of the room.
The Doctor had entered, naked, slim, sinewy and already hard. Really, he was quite delicious. He’d been watching them for a moment, certainly, and (Tyler sincerely hoped) taking mental notes. He wasn’t a stupid man, even if he did appear to be stubborn as an ox. He would know the value of watching a woman make love to herself. Tyler indicated with her eyes that he should join them.
She judged the Doctor’s hands as uncommonly strong, and he seemed to be testing her for reality and solidity, gripping her around the waist to kneel behind her. He was, of course, more expert than her usual paramours, having already had experience in the fine art of Rose-Tyler-shagging. She hadn’t considered this extra perk.
Tyler was no novice, but always found that it could get a bit complicated with three. Lots of needing to move around, making sure no one gets left out for too long. In this case though, the Doctor seemed happy enough just to watch some of the time. She couldn’t say she blamed him: she was unbearably sexy, in any dimension.
In her effort to prove that the fantasy of sex with one’s self made an infinite amount of logical sense, Tyler made sure that Rose’s breasts got lots of attention in the precise quantities (none of this feeling as if her skin might be worn through or that her lover is in danger of getting a repetitive stress injury), and she placed gentle (gentle, not biting) kisses in all of her secret places. When the time came, she spread the other woman’s legs gently and let her adjust to the sensation of being thus opened, for several long moments.
And there was certainly no fumbling or tentative prodding. The Doctor was placing tender kisses against Rose’s neck and chest, while Tyler slowly, slowly, worked her mouth up the other woman’s thigh, until...
Rose arched her back and moaned, rather bucking the Doctor off (a common hazard of the threesome, that). Tyler got comfortable on her elbows, bringing her hands under Rose’s familiarly rounded bottom, to get the optimum angle. She’d tasted herself plenty of times before, and it was always just a bit different-sometimes muskier, sometimes more salty with mingled sweat-but always a primal, intoxicating taste.
There was a rhythm, she knew, that would keep Rose on the brink of ecstasy without allowing her to climax. Once, when she was younger, she’d actually found a vibrator that pulsed at that exact frequency, and she’d felt like if she could marry an inanimate object, she would. She wondered if this version of herself still had it laying around somewhere.
As she was concentrating on keeping her tongue and fingers to a consistent, steady rhythm, she felt warm, long-fingered hands tentatively play over her own arse (which was sticking up in a way that was either very unflattering, or very sexy). She then felt the head of the Doctor’s cock bump up against her bottom, and her carefully calculated pulsations faltered slightly.
"Can I..." she heard the Doctor ask hoarsely, and she thought they’d already covered this.
Tyler hummed some affirmative moans into Rose, which Rose seemed to like very much, but which didn’t seem to be good enough for that bloody courteous man behind her.
She had to lift her head and bark "Yes already!" like a military sergeant before he’d take further action, which she had to admit was sort of a turn-on.
Rose Tyler, she thought to herself, you really are a lucky bastard. Both of you.
When the Doctor entered her, he did make a valiant attempt to not give in to just pounding away. She could see why Rose stuck with him, for all his pomposity and non sequitirs. He was, as it turned out, rather good in the sack.
Rose was fisting the sheets in each hand, surely beyond the point of caring that everyone else was doing all the work. Tyler was of the opinion that everyone should sometimes get a chance to let someone else do all the work-and work she did. As the Doctor pushed into her, Tyler was thrust forward, and she used the force to press her tongue hard against Rose’s clit, backing off again when the Doctor unsheathed himself from her. Rose let out a long, sighing moan which went straight to Tyler’s every erogenous zone. This is why people liked to video themselves in: to hear their own sounds of pleasure played back.
Tyler gripped Rose’s arse, probably hard enough to leave marks, and let her tongue swipe and press and lick to the rhythm of the Doctor’s slow, but forceful movements. They all were making undignified noises now, and growing slick with sweat and the nectar of a woman’s body.
As Tyler had hoped and planned for, Rose found her climax first. Tyler lapped eagerly at the rush of moisture, plunged three fingers inside to feel the clenching spasms of her muscles, and felt almost as if she’d come her own self. Well, technically, she had. Rose’s orgasm also seemed to have this effect on the Doctor, and he sped up markedly, saying her name under his breath (which was very sweet).
No one called Tyler "Rose" in her life as a Time Agent. That was the name of an innocent, a girl. But hearing this long-forgotten name now, said with such profound love, she felt something open inside of her again. She wasn’t alone, there were people that knew her-truly knew her. She felt like she could relax, and just enjoy being together with two other people.
"Can I-"
That man was asking, again! Her answer was a shouted "Yes, god dammit!" that brought with it stars and fireworks and all of those clichés that she’d long ago stopped speaking of with a straight face, but secretly still experienced every time. The Doctor clutched at her hips as he came, the name of Rose still on his lips. She repeated it, both to herself and the other Rose-the one who blinked sleepily down at her with such a warm, satisfied smile.
***
The Doctor made a final assessment of the transwarp inversion platform, double-checking all of the calculations. "Okay, I think this is it. Are you ready?"
Tyler stepped forward, also noting the readings one last time. "As I’ll ever be."
"I don’t suppose it’s possible to write." Rose looked down at her feet, feeling silly. Why would you want to write to your own self, anyway, even if you could?
"I don’t think so," her duplicate answered sadly.
"Take care of yourself, yeah?"
Tyler looked like she was considering it, and what that might entail. "You too."
"It’s been fine knowing you, Agent Tyler," the Doctor said, his mouth turning in that way that Rose knew meant he was trying to smile even though he didn’t feel like smiling.
Tyler winked at him. "Just call me Rose."
He stepped forward and hugged her, lifting her off the ground in the process. "Whatever you say, Rose," he said into her shoulder.
"Will you promise me something, though?" Rose took the other woman by the arm when she was released, and enveloped her in a more tender hug. "You find a hand to hold. Promise me you’ll do that."
"I’ll do my best."
The last Rose saw of her parallel self, there was a shimmering around the edges of the platform, and then a blinding blue light, a hot wind, and she was gone.
Author: the_tenzo
Characters/Pairing: Rose/Ten2/Rose (yes, really)
Rating: Adult
Word Count: ~3500
Summary: Sometimes inter-dimensional transportation goes wrong. But sometimes, it goes very, very right. Rose Tyler, meet Rose Tyler.
A/N: Rosecest: the campaign starts here! Okay, I don't even know what to say about this. As part of the doctor_rose_fix -athon shinyopals left a prompt for Rose/Ten2/Rose. This is my fill for that. *holds head*
The intercom on the Doctor’s desk made some unhealthy spluttering noises.
It did that sometimes, but he couldn’t really fault Torchwood for pawning a dodgy phone off on him, considering he wasn’t even officially an employee. Rose had arranged it all, with a little workspace set up in an out-of-the-way corner, so he’d be close to hand if his expertise was ever needed (ostensibly), or just to keep him off the street and out of trouble (probably). He also was given plenty of bits and bobs to tinker with, but he’d just exhausted his supply on building a new sonic screwdriver. Pickings were a bit slim in both the thingamabob and (very important) whatsit departments. Thus, he’d spent most of the morning sonicing ("I’m calibrating it, Rose, thank you.") office supplies.
The intercom emitted some more static, and he was just about to aim his new screwdriver at it when an actual voice came through.
Rose.
"Doctor, could you, er, come down here? There might be a slight problem."
The sharp edges around ‘slight’ indicated a major problem of perhaps disastrous proportions. He hoped.
"On my way." The pile of paperclips he’d been blasting with the sonic shot off the desktop and embedded themselves in a ceiling tile.
Was he excited or worried? These human emotions were still so difficult to sort out. Whatever it was behind the doors he now faced, though, he was ready. He might have one less heart, but "world-saving" was still the top skill on his CV. Followed closely by cross-stitch, but that information was only given out on a need-to-know basis.
Taking a deep breath, he flung open the double-doors: "Everyone, stand back!" Oh, that felt good! "Just tell me what’s wrong and- What?"
Rose was standing by a lab table, hands clasped behind her back, with a sheepish look on her lovely face. A very sheepish look, complete with bitten lower lip and deeply creased brow.
"What?" the Doctor asked again.
Rose inclined her head to indicate an area just over his shoulder. He hated when things snuck up behind him. It was absolutely the oldest trick in the villain book, and just plain boring.
"All right," the Doctor huffed as he spun on a heel and turned (with a bit of a flourish, if he was honest). "What is... it. Oh."
Behind him, sitting primly in an office chair was... Rose Tyler, grinning.
"Hello," she said, and gave a little wave.
"Hello." He waved back, then spun around to make sure the first Rose was still there.
"Hello," the original Rose said, much more quietly, but also wiggling her fingers.
He swivelled his head around several more times, getting the full picture of two Roses, who were clearly different people but also clearly both Rose.
"Rose Tyler, there are two of you," he finally said, measuring his words out carefully because, in his head, they sounded so ridiculous.
"Yes," both Roses said at the same time.
"That’s not natural," he said.
"Oi, you can talk," the original Rose (whom he could identify because he’d seen her get dressed that morning) protested.
"So, is this your..." the other Rose addressed the original.
"Yeah, that’s him," Rose answered. Clearly they’d talked a bit before he was called in. "Doctor, meet Agent Rose Tyler. Agent Tyler, this is the Doctor."
"Just ‘Tyler’-no one ever calls me Rose, and Agent Tyler sounds a bit formal among friends." She gave a little whistle of appreciation. "Not bad," she said, running her eyes over the Doctor. "Good for you."
"Thanks!" the original Rose chirped, her sheepish brow-furrowing now replaced by a toothy smile.
***
The Doctor sucked on the end of his sonic screwdriver, a habit he’d never had before, but was considering taking up now. "What’s your favourite colour?"
"Pink!" In stereo.
"Favourite food?"
"Chips!" In stereo.
"Name of your first pet?"
"Sally," said Rose.
"She was a goldfish," said Tyler.
"But I had to flush her..."
"...because I forgot to feed her for a week."
The Doctor realised that he was clutching his head. Tightly. "This is impossible."
"Nah, just improbable," said Agent Tyler ("Just ‘Tyler,’ please.") cheerily.
"Okay, so tell me this, Tyler, if that is your real name...." (The original Rose rolled her eyes.) "What happened to you on 26 March, 2005?"
She got a faraway look in her eye for a moment, but sat up straighter in her chair and answered him quickly: "Easy: that’s the day I was recruited."
"Aha!" the Doctor barked, and stood up so he could tower over her a little bit. He quite enjoyed a good tower sometimes. "I knew it!"
"Knew what?" Rose asked. "Doctor, you’re being ridiculous."
"Well, what happened to you on 26 March, 2005?"
She sighed and said in an exasperated monotone: "That’s the day you took my hand and said just one word."
"Precisely!" The Doctor did some more towering, just for good measure. "So this impostor can’t be you."
"I’m finding this all rather ironic, coming from you," Rose said dryly.
The other Rose Tyler (the fake Rose Tyler, the Doctor reminded himself) cleared her throat. "If you don’t mind," she said, "I have a theory about what’s going on here."
"And who says I should trust you?" the Doctor shot back.
"Oh, for god’s sake," Rose sighed.
"Be nice," Agent Tyler chided playfully. "He’s got too good of an arse to let him get away."
"He’s not going anywhere and he knows it."
The Doctor took a step back and looked at them both sceptically. And then he covertly reached behind himself and felt his own bum.
***
"So, what’s that like, being a Time Agent?" Rose poured another three shots of Vodka out on the kitchen counter.
"‘S great," Tyler said, downing the shot in one smooth motion. "Adventure, intrigue, travel, things you’d never believe. This is actually not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. First time I’ve ever been sucked through a dimensional wormhole by my parallel self, though."
"Yeah, we’ll get that sorted out, I promise." Rose tossed her own shot back and involuntarily shuddered as it burned all the way down. "But we almost hit meltdown temperatures with the transwarp inversion platform yesterday and I reckon it needs to cool before we try again, if we don’t want to China Syndrome the whole unit."
"It’s no problem. Just another adventure, isn’t it?"
Rose poured another two shots and then put all three newly filled glasses onto a little tray, along with the bottle.
"Do you have any... I mean, back home, do you have someone? I met the Doctor, but..." Rose didn’t quite know how to phrase what she was asking any more delicately. Were there more Doctors out there? Or did this parallel Rose meet some swashbuckling Time Agent in place of the Doctor, and that’s where their realities split? It made her head hurt to contemplate. Or perhaps that was the vodka.
"I’m free as a bird, mate," Tyler said casually. "That’s the life of a Time Agent. All the danger and excitement and sex you could ever want, but sometimes I do miss..."
"A hand to hold?" Rose held a hand out tentatively, remembering the last time she had touched another version of herself. It had not ended well.
"Yeah."
Tyler’s hand was warm, strong, and a bit rough. Thankfully, there were no Reapers.
"This is nice," she said, and they stood there, in the middle of a harshly lit kitchen in London, until they lost the sense of time that they both had built their unusual lives around.
***
The Doctor craned his neck to try to see into the kitchen. "Oi, what’s taking so long?"
The two women appeared in the front room again, but there was something... off about them. Or on. It was hard to say. His Rose had changed into her usual lounging-around clothes, but the other one was still decked out in cargo trousers, a very tight t-shirt and short canvas jacket. Full Time Agent travelling regalia, to be sure. She probably had a vortex manipulator stuck into one of her many pockets, though chances were high that, out of its own dimension, it wouldn’t be functional. She’d have mentioned it, if it would be useful to get her back home, but already knowing it wasn’t, she kept it hidden for safety. Smart. Just like Rose Tyler.
"So," the Doctor offered, into what may or may not have been an awkward silence.
"So," Rose answered, her eyes fluttering back and forth between her duplicate and the Doctor.
"So." Tyler smiled guilelessly back at them. "I was accidentally cloned once!" Trust Rose to find the only other person in the universe who could use this line as an ice-breaker.
"Yeah?" Rose asked. "How’d that happen, then?"
The other woman just waved her hand dismissively. "The how is sort of boring. It was nice, while she was around, though. Good self-esteem: it pays off when you’re stuck with your clone for a month on an abandoned luxury liner in perpetual orbit around a class nine warp star."
"A month! Didn’t you get sick of talking to yourself?"
Tyler arched one eyebrow suggestively. "Who said there was much talking?"
Rose coughed, and not just a polite sort of attention-getting cough, either. She doubled over into a fit that lasted several seconds before recovering and pushing some strands of hair back into place. "No, but really?"
"Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. In fact, I know you have. But doesn’t everyone? It’s just that most people don’t actually get a chance to see what it’s really like."
It was the Doctor’s turn to pour himself a double and dispatch it with a wheeze. "Humans," he scoffed, refilling the glasses all around. "Honestly."
Tyler jabbed a thumb in his direction. "Is he not...?"
"It’s complicated," Rose said. "And he likes to pretend he’s so above it all."
"I am above fantasizing about having sex with myself."
Agent Tyler smiled slyly. "Liar. I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on you: there’s a man who doesn’t half fancy himself."
"When you say fancy-" the Doctor protested, his hands fluttering around in his hair, seemingly of their own accord.
"Yeah, all right," Tyler teased. "Whatever you say, mate. Whatever you say."
"So was it really... I mean, is it good? With yourself?" Rose asked tentatively.
***
This other, seemingly Earth-bound version of herself was a puzzle. Tyler could tell, she’d been around-led a life of adventure, and also pain. The two tended to go hand-in-hand, and the fact that this other version had experienced both in quantity was written in the way her smiling eyes were as haunted as they were joyous. They were the same deep pools of hurt and healing that greeted her own self in the mirror every day. This was not where the differences between them lay.
Being a traveller, a saver-of-lives and a bringer-of-death, it made a person hard. Not cold-not if you kept your empathy about you and your heart open. But this wonderful, thrilling, terrible life was so isolating. At first unintentionally, as you found fewer and fewer people who could relate to your experiences, and then later on purpose. It begins to hurt to even try to find solace with others, and easier to just avoid it all together.
But what about that hand to hold? That must be the source of the allure this not-quite-a-duplicate held. She still was able to make that deeper connection with others, because she’d shared that heart-break, and wonder, and joy with someone else. Tyler wondered, could this ever be her life? Her curtains; her wall-to-wall carpet; her bedroom?
For it was Rose’s bedroom that she now found herself in.
Oh, they’d talked-about the implications and fidelity and boundaries. Tyler found it quaint, and admirable, that even in such a unique and spontaneous circumstance, this pair were still so concerned about each other’s feelings. The Doctor spent a lot of time pretending to be only scientifically interested before finally admitting to a base sexual curiosity. He blamed it on being human, but refused to explain why that should be such a novelty for a man seemingly in his thirties.
Rose stood by the wardrobe, wrapped in a fluffy towel and still dripping a little bit. The Doctor was still in the shower. Tyler’s experience as a Time Agent had long ago led her to require that all lovers be scrubbed and disinfected prior to the act. The one or two times she’d let this slide, she’d very much regretted it later.
Tyler removed her own towel and let it drop to the floor in a heap, motioning for Rose to do the same. "It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Quite literally."
That drew a little laugh from Rose, who unfastened her own towel, and folded it up neatly.
"Make yourself comfortable." Tyler gestured to the bed.
She heard the water turn off in the bathroom, and figured she’d better start things off with Rose without further delay, if she didn’t want the awkward preliminaries to suck a third person into their orbit. It’s really always best to rip the plaster off quickly.
She approached the bed and separated the top sheet from all the other linens, flinging it over Rose’s naked body. This right here would be all the proof that the other woman needed that they were fundamentally identical, and would remove the faint miasma of doubt that still hung over the encounter.
Rose started to speak, but Tyler placed a finger over her lips. "No need," she whispered in her ear. Tyler began to run her hands up and down Rose’s body, with the sheet between them. She knew, no one ever did this. It felt so good, but sounded so counter-intuitive: sex was for skin-on-skin, not for artificial barriers.
And yet...
Rose’s nipples were hard and visible under the sheet, and a little moan escaped her lips. This was followed by another, similar sound from the other side of the room.
The Doctor had entered, naked, slim, sinewy and already hard. Really, he was quite delicious. He’d been watching them for a moment, certainly, and (Tyler sincerely hoped) taking mental notes. He wasn’t a stupid man, even if he did appear to be stubborn as an ox. He would know the value of watching a woman make love to herself. Tyler indicated with her eyes that he should join them.
She judged the Doctor’s hands as uncommonly strong, and he seemed to be testing her for reality and solidity, gripping her around the waist to kneel behind her. He was, of course, more expert than her usual paramours, having already had experience in the fine art of Rose-Tyler-shagging. She hadn’t considered this extra perk.
Tyler was no novice, but always found that it could get a bit complicated with three. Lots of needing to move around, making sure no one gets left out for too long. In this case though, the Doctor seemed happy enough just to watch some of the time. She couldn’t say she blamed him: she was unbearably sexy, in any dimension.
In her effort to prove that the fantasy of sex with one’s self made an infinite amount of logical sense, Tyler made sure that Rose’s breasts got lots of attention in the precise quantities (none of this feeling as if her skin might be worn through or that her lover is in danger of getting a repetitive stress injury), and she placed gentle (gentle, not biting) kisses in all of her secret places. When the time came, she spread the other woman’s legs gently and let her adjust to the sensation of being thus opened, for several long moments.
And there was certainly no fumbling or tentative prodding. The Doctor was placing tender kisses against Rose’s neck and chest, while Tyler slowly, slowly, worked her mouth up the other woman’s thigh, until...
Rose arched her back and moaned, rather bucking the Doctor off (a common hazard of the threesome, that). Tyler got comfortable on her elbows, bringing her hands under Rose’s familiarly rounded bottom, to get the optimum angle. She’d tasted herself plenty of times before, and it was always just a bit different-sometimes muskier, sometimes more salty with mingled sweat-but always a primal, intoxicating taste.
There was a rhythm, she knew, that would keep Rose on the brink of ecstasy without allowing her to climax. Once, when she was younger, she’d actually found a vibrator that pulsed at that exact frequency, and she’d felt like if she could marry an inanimate object, she would. She wondered if this version of herself still had it laying around somewhere.
As she was concentrating on keeping her tongue and fingers to a consistent, steady rhythm, she felt warm, long-fingered hands tentatively play over her own arse (which was sticking up in a way that was either very unflattering, or very sexy). She then felt the head of the Doctor’s cock bump up against her bottom, and her carefully calculated pulsations faltered slightly.
"Can I..." she heard the Doctor ask hoarsely, and she thought they’d already covered this.
Tyler hummed some affirmative moans into Rose, which Rose seemed to like very much, but which didn’t seem to be good enough for that bloody courteous man behind her.
She had to lift her head and bark "Yes already!" like a military sergeant before he’d take further action, which she had to admit was sort of a turn-on.
Rose Tyler, she thought to herself, you really are a lucky bastard. Both of you.
When the Doctor entered her, he did make a valiant attempt to not give in to just pounding away. She could see why Rose stuck with him, for all his pomposity and non sequitirs. He was, as it turned out, rather good in the sack.
Rose was fisting the sheets in each hand, surely beyond the point of caring that everyone else was doing all the work. Tyler was of the opinion that everyone should sometimes get a chance to let someone else do all the work-and work she did. As the Doctor pushed into her, Tyler was thrust forward, and she used the force to press her tongue hard against Rose’s clit, backing off again when the Doctor unsheathed himself from her. Rose let out a long, sighing moan which went straight to Tyler’s every erogenous zone. This is why people liked to video themselves in: to hear their own sounds of pleasure played back.
Tyler gripped Rose’s arse, probably hard enough to leave marks, and let her tongue swipe and press and lick to the rhythm of the Doctor’s slow, but forceful movements. They all were making undignified noises now, and growing slick with sweat and the nectar of a woman’s body.
As Tyler had hoped and planned for, Rose found her climax first. Tyler lapped eagerly at the rush of moisture, plunged three fingers inside to feel the clenching spasms of her muscles, and felt almost as if she’d come her own self. Well, technically, she had. Rose’s orgasm also seemed to have this effect on the Doctor, and he sped up markedly, saying her name under his breath (which was very sweet).
No one called Tyler "Rose" in her life as a Time Agent. That was the name of an innocent, a girl. But hearing this long-forgotten name now, said with such profound love, she felt something open inside of her again. She wasn’t alone, there were people that knew her-truly knew her. She felt like she could relax, and just enjoy being together with two other people.
"Can I-"
That man was asking, again! Her answer was a shouted "Yes, god dammit!" that brought with it stars and fireworks and all of those clichés that she’d long ago stopped speaking of with a straight face, but secretly still experienced every time. The Doctor clutched at her hips as he came, the name of Rose still on his lips. She repeated it, both to herself and the other Rose-the one who blinked sleepily down at her with such a warm, satisfied smile.
***
The Doctor made a final assessment of the transwarp inversion platform, double-checking all of the calculations. "Okay, I think this is it. Are you ready?"
Tyler stepped forward, also noting the readings one last time. "As I’ll ever be."
"I don’t suppose it’s possible to write." Rose looked down at her feet, feeling silly. Why would you want to write to your own self, anyway, even if you could?
"I don’t think so," her duplicate answered sadly.
"Take care of yourself, yeah?"
Tyler looked like she was considering it, and what that might entail. "You too."
"It’s been fine knowing you, Agent Tyler," the Doctor said, his mouth turning in that way that Rose knew meant he was trying to smile even though he didn’t feel like smiling.
Tyler winked at him. "Just call me Rose."
He stepped forward and hugged her, lifting her off the ground in the process. "Whatever you say, Rose," he said into her shoulder.
"Will you promise me something, though?" Rose took the other woman by the arm when she was released, and enveloped her in a more tender hug. "You find a hand to hold. Promise me you’ll do that."
"I’ll do my best."
The last Rose saw of her parallel self, there was a shimmering around the edges of the platform, and then a blinding blue light, a hot wind, and she was gone.