Fic 1/1: The Right Thing
Title: The Right Thing
Author: Helen
shootingstars88
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even a little bit.
Spoilers: The Shakespeare Code
Summary: Fluff. Rose Tyler always knows exactly the right thing to say to the Doctor.
Author's Notes: Plotless fluff because we all need a bit of cheerful Ten/Rose from time to time. Inspired by the 'Rose'd know' line from The Shakespeare Code, with a twist. And in honour of the Harry Potter references in The Shakespeare Code and the impending release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, there will be virtual cookies for all those who spot the HP reference.
Rose didn't really know why she was carrying the candle as she pottered about, exploring every inch of the tiny room. It wasn't yet dark and the summer evening was casting a golden sort of light through the threadbare curtains, making the harsh features of their lodging look almost comfortable.
The Doctor glanced up from the bed and frowned at her, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. "What're you carrying that around for?"
Rose shrugged, "Dunno. Seemed like the sort of thing to do, I suppose. Y'know on all those historical recreation bits on documentaries and stuff, people are always wandering around with these candle holder things."
The crease between his eyebrows disappeared as he smiled, his frown replaced by an amused expression that danced in his eyes as he looked up at her. "True," he agreed, "but they're usually plotting rebellion and treason and stuff as well."
Rose laughed, putting the candle down and sitting beside him on the tiny bed. "Yeah well there's always tomorrow for that," she said casually.
"Ooh I do love a bit of rebellion, when well-intentioned of course," he told her cheerfully, shifting to the side to give her more room and laying down on his side, facing her.
Rose wriggled about, trying to find a position in which she could sleep comfortably, if not entirely peacefully. "Not exactly five stars is it?" she muttered, still tossing and turning. "Still, suppose I've slept in worse."
"Too right," the Doctor agreed, though he appeared to be entirely comfortable where he lay.
"Bit drafty though." Rose felt goosebumps erupt down her bare arms the moment she stilled her movement, having finally found a remotely comfortable spot.
"Suppose," he replied as she gave an involuntary shiver. "Cold?"
"A bit," she conceded, "but I seriously doubt that blanket's ever been cleaned."
"Probably not," he agreed, springing up and off the bed suddenly. Rose sat up on her elbows and watched as he crossed the room in two strides and grabbed his long coat from the back of a chair. "Here," he said, draping it carefully over her, "You can sleep under this."
"And has this ever been cleaned?" Rose joked as her tucked it in around her shoulders, making sure she was entirely covered.
"Oh once or twice," he said vaguely, grinning down at her. "And don't worry if it wriggles a bit, there might be a couple of dormice in one of the pockets."
Rose chose to take that as a joke.
"So," she began, casually patting the pockets for any signs of life while he returned to his side of the bed, "any theories on what's going on 'round here?"
The Doctor let out a long sigh before replying, suddenly quieter. "Nope."
"Nothing?" Rose blinked in surpise.
Though his face lay just inches from hers, his eyes seemed to be gazing beyond her, to a horizon she couldn't see. "There's something I'm missing Rose," he said, examining the muddled picture of events in his minds eye and willing the pieces to sharpen in focus and fit into place. "Something staring me right in the face and I can't see it. I should have figured this out by now," he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "I should know what's going on."
"Oh don't be so daft."
Her unexpected response forced his attention to snap back to reality. "I'm sorry?" he asked, looking mildly affronted
"I said don't be so daft," Rose repeated, giving him one of her long-suffering sighs. She was getting good at those. "If you haven't figured this out yet," she explained patiently, "then the only explanation is that right now, at this exact moment in time, it's not possible to figure it out."
His indignation quickly melted into a wide smile. "You think so?"
"I think so," she assured him confidently. "At the risk of giving your ego a boost that it really doesn't need, you do always seem to have the answers eventually."
"I do," he agreed with a self-satisfied expression that quickly faded when she glared at him, unimpressed. "Sorry," he said quickly, "You were being nice. Please continue."
Rose narrowed her eyes at the smug grin that he hadn't quite managed to resist but continued anyway. "If you don't have an answer now then you must be missing a clue or something. Of course I know you're going to sit there thinking about it all night anyway," she added with a weary smile, "but I'm telling you Doctor, you'll figure it out tomorrow. Something'll happen and you'll ... you'll just figure it out."
As they'd been talking, night had fallen abruptly outside and plunged the city into the unimaginable darkness of night before electricity. The small candle, casting long shadows on the wall, was left as the only light source in their room, except perhaps for the Doctor, whose smug grin had turned into a beaming smile that seemed to be a power source in itself.
"You know you're probably right," he said thoughtfully, regarding her with an intensity that left her suddenly shy, yet entirely unable to look away. "Rose Tyler," he said slowly and there was wonder in every syllable, "why is it you always seem to know what to say?"
"I don't know," Rose blushed under the intensity of his gaze. "I just ... I know you, that's all." She glanced around the room, pondering how to phrase what she wanted to say. Even the candle's light was fading now, illuminating only the Doctor beside her, leaving the rest of the room in complete darkness. Rose smiled faintly at just how appropriate that was. "It's like," she began uncertainly, "how you take me to all these places and I don't have a clue how you do it, that's your department. This life, the aliens and all the planets, none of it makes sense to me. But you ... you just make sense. I understand you. I don't know why, or how, I just do. I know you," she finished quietly, smiling almost shyly up at him.
The Doctor let out a long breath, staring at her like she was the mystery he couldn't quite unravel. "Do you realise how extraordinary you are?"
"How did you ever cope without me?" Rose joked, though she immediately regretted it.
His face fell and the ever-present sparkle of adventure in his eyes burnt out in a flash of searing pain and loss, allowing her to see, just for a moment, the unimaginable loneliness within. "I didn't," he answered quietly, "not really."
It was moments like these when she truly appreciated what their separation had done to him. She'd had family and friends to comfort her when his image faded from that windswept beach but he had opened his eyes to an empty room in an empty ship, floating beside a dead star in the cold depths of space.
And she had promised him forever.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, though she wasn't sure what she was apologising for - for what she'd said, for leaving or for promising him forever and letting him believe her. Maybe all of it.
She reached out a hand and gripped his arm, giving him a tangible reminder that she was really beside him, that the pain was in the past now.
The Doctor felt warmth flood him again, spreading out from where her fingertips lay on his arm, thawing the cold numbness that had appeared so quickly at her words. It still amazed him that even when she was right there in front of him, in just one moment he could be back at that white wall, broken and filled with regret. He blinked away the memories and forced himself to focus on her face in front of him. He noticed, with a sudden burst of affection, that her eyes were darkened with concern. Only for him.
He smiled and Rose watched warily until his face came alive and a hint of infinity danced again behind his warm brown eyes. Only then did she return his smile.
"Last time I was in this century," he began, and Rose was relieved to hear his voice sounded light again. "Few years later than when we are now, I upset Martha and then spent a very long, very boring night sat on a tiny bed like this one, thinking and thinking and thinking about what was going on. And you know, like you said, it was the next day before I figured it all out."
"What was going on?"
"Oh all sorts," he said vaguely, "witches, or so it appeared ... ooh and Shakespeare. Nice bloke. Anyway, point is, you'd have said the right thing," he concluded, returning to his original point, "if you'd been there, I know you would have. Even if it was only 'don't be so daft'."
"I probably would have slapped you for upsetting me," Rose said, hoping to keep things light.
The Doctor shook his head, "Nah, I'd never have said what I said if it had been you."
"What did you say?" Rose asked, curiousity peaked.
Taking you back home tomorrow. "Doesn't matter." The Doctor spoke casually but there was a firmness in his voice that told Rose she wouldn't get it out of him. "All in the past now. Well all in the future technically," he added. "3 years from when we are now as it happens."
"Wierd."
"That's time travel for you. And," he added suddenly, "it's thanks to those events which haven't technically happened yet that I can confidently predict ... well relatively confidently anyway, that in the near future something we do is going to royally annoy Elizabeth I. Get it - royally annoy?"
"Oh ha-ha," Rose rolled her eyes at the childish delight in his face at his little pun. "God, we do seem to be developing a bit of a habit of annoying famous Monarchs though," she commented, remembering their run-in with Queen Victoria with a smile. Her smile dropped when she remembered how that had lead to Torchwood which had led to Norway and to Pete's World and to heartbreak for both of them. She glanced warily at The Doctor, hoping he wasn't following a similar trail of thoughts. To her relief it appeared he hadn't heard her at all. His gaze was looking beyond her again, to the mystery confronting them and judging by the faint frown appearing on his face, he wasn't having any breakthroughs.
"Oi! Snap out of it," she said in a raised voice, waving her free hand in front of his face until he blinked back to reality again. "What did I just say?"
"Sorry! Sorry! I was just-"
"Doing exactly what I said you'd do," Rose finished for him, stifling a yawn. "Still, I stand by what I said and I bet you ten quid you haven't got the answers by the time I wake up."
"No way," he pushed away the hand she offered to seal the bet, "you're probably right and I haven't got ten quid."
"Worth a try," Rose slurred her words slightly as sleep began to overtake her. She shifted slightly, moving her head to rest on his chest. "Pillow's rubbish," she muttered sleepily.
"'Goodnight Rose," said The Doctor softly, watching her eyes flutter closed.
Rose was asleep before he'd finished speaking, her body warm against his and wrapped securely in his long coat. The Doctor placed a light kiss to her head and returned his attention to the mystery confronting them. He began searching his memory of the day in the hope of remembering a scrap of information that could help but he'd barely got beyond breakfast when her words flooded his mind.
"Don't be so daft."
It was hard to worry about the nameless, shapeless threat somewhere beyond their window in the darkness of Tudor London. It was hard to worry about missing something when she was beside him, her warm weight on his chest, breathing slowly and evenly. It was hard, in fact, to worry about anything at all except where he could take her next. He smiled down at her, knowing and not caring that she'd intended to do this to him.
He settled for pondering an altogether different mystery that night, one he knew he'd never unravel and never really wanted to. He was the last of his kind and he'd had the whole of time and space to wander in alone. And yet somehow he'd found her not once, but twice. His perfect opposite, his other half and, he could almost hear her butting in, perhaps even his better half. The Doctor quietly watched the candle burn down to nothing, thinking of the young girl from his favourite planet who always knew what to say, who seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
Six hours later and the candle was nothing but a pool of wax on the holder. Sunlight streamed through the threadbare curtains and the street outside had already begun to bustle with activity.
Rose awoke with a scream, practically jumping out of bed and tossing The Doctor's coat at him.
"Morning," he said cheerfully, catching the coat in one hand.
"Something moved," Rose said breathlessly, watching the coat warily.
"Possibly Bob."
"Bob?"
"Good name for a Dormouse," The Doctor said brightly, grinning broadly at her.
Rose didn't look remotely amused. "It's far too early for this," she complained, reaching up a hand to try and tame her hair somewhat. "That bed was rubbish." She looked at him as though that was somehow his fault, wide awake now and more than usually grumpy. "I want a proper bed tonight," she told him firmly, tying her hair back, "and a nice long shower."
Before she could launch into a full blown rant, the Doctor, recognising the warning signs, stepped in. "Shopping," he said quickly as he struggled with his long coat.
"Shopping?" She repeated, helping his arm into a sleeve.
"Lots of it," he promised, grinning eagerly. "After we've annoyed the Queen. After you've had a proper rest in your bed in the TARDIS and a nice long bath." He grinned hopefully up at her and waited, holding out his hand.
Rose narrowed her eyes at him as though trying to find a hidden catch in his promise. After a few moments consideration, she smiled and put her hand in his. "Alright."
"Excellent," The Doctor said happily, leading her out of the door and smiling broadly. "Let's go!"
It wasn't difficult really, he thought to himself as they set out to solve whatever problems lay ahead, to know exactly what to say, once you'd found the right person to be saying it to.
Author: Helen
shootingstars88
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even a little bit.
Spoilers: The Shakespeare Code
Summary: Fluff. Rose Tyler always knows exactly the right thing to say to the Doctor.
Author's Notes: Plotless fluff because we all need a bit of cheerful Ten/Rose from time to time. Inspired by the 'Rose'd know' line from The Shakespeare Code, with a twist. And in honour of the Harry Potter references in The Shakespeare Code and the impending release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, there will be virtual cookies for all those who spot the HP reference.
Rose didn't really know why she was carrying the candle as she pottered about, exploring every inch of the tiny room. It wasn't yet dark and the summer evening was casting a golden sort of light through the threadbare curtains, making the harsh features of their lodging look almost comfortable.
The Doctor glanced up from the bed and frowned at her, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. "What're you carrying that around for?"
Rose shrugged, "Dunno. Seemed like the sort of thing to do, I suppose. Y'know on all those historical recreation bits on documentaries and stuff, people are always wandering around with these candle holder things."
The crease between his eyebrows disappeared as he smiled, his frown replaced by an amused expression that danced in his eyes as he looked up at her. "True," he agreed, "but they're usually plotting rebellion and treason and stuff as well."
Rose laughed, putting the candle down and sitting beside him on the tiny bed. "Yeah well there's always tomorrow for that," she said casually.
"Ooh I do love a bit of rebellion, when well-intentioned of course," he told her cheerfully, shifting to the side to give her more room and laying down on his side, facing her.
Rose wriggled about, trying to find a position in which she could sleep comfortably, if not entirely peacefully. "Not exactly five stars is it?" she muttered, still tossing and turning. "Still, suppose I've slept in worse."
"Too right," the Doctor agreed, though he appeared to be entirely comfortable where he lay.
"Bit drafty though." Rose felt goosebumps erupt down her bare arms the moment she stilled her movement, having finally found a remotely comfortable spot.
"Suppose," he replied as she gave an involuntary shiver. "Cold?"
"A bit," she conceded, "but I seriously doubt that blanket's ever been cleaned."
"Probably not," he agreed, springing up and off the bed suddenly. Rose sat up on her elbows and watched as he crossed the room in two strides and grabbed his long coat from the back of a chair. "Here," he said, draping it carefully over her, "You can sleep under this."
"And has this ever been cleaned?" Rose joked as her tucked it in around her shoulders, making sure she was entirely covered.
"Oh once or twice," he said vaguely, grinning down at her. "And don't worry if it wriggles a bit, there might be a couple of dormice in one of the pockets."
Rose chose to take that as a joke.
"So," she began, casually patting the pockets for any signs of life while he returned to his side of the bed, "any theories on what's going on 'round here?"
The Doctor let out a long sigh before replying, suddenly quieter. "Nope."
"Nothing?" Rose blinked in surpise.
Though his face lay just inches from hers, his eyes seemed to be gazing beyond her, to a horizon she couldn't see. "There's something I'm missing Rose," he said, examining the muddled picture of events in his minds eye and willing the pieces to sharpen in focus and fit into place. "Something staring me right in the face and I can't see it. I should have figured this out by now," he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "I should know what's going on."
"Oh don't be so daft."
Her unexpected response forced his attention to snap back to reality. "I'm sorry?" he asked, looking mildly affronted
"I said don't be so daft," Rose repeated, giving him one of her long-suffering sighs. She was getting good at those. "If you haven't figured this out yet," she explained patiently, "then the only explanation is that right now, at this exact moment in time, it's not possible to figure it out."
His indignation quickly melted into a wide smile. "You think so?"
"I think so," she assured him confidently. "At the risk of giving your ego a boost that it really doesn't need, you do always seem to have the answers eventually."
"I do," he agreed with a self-satisfied expression that quickly faded when she glared at him, unimpressed. "Sorry," he said quickly, "You were being nice. Please continue."
Rose narrowed her eyes at the smug grin that he hadn't quite managed to resist but continued anyway. "If you don't have an answer now then you must be missing a clue or something. Of course I know you're going to sit there thinking about it all night anyway," she added with a weary smile, "but I'm telling you Doctor, you'll figure it out tomorrow. Something'll happen and you'll ... you'll just figure it out."
As they'd been talking, night had fallen abruptly outside and plunged the city into the unimaginable darkness of night before electricity. The small candle, casting long shadows on the wall, was left as the only light source in their room, except perhaps for the Doctor, whose smug grin had turned into a beaming smile that seemed to be a power source in itself.
"You know you're probably right," he said thoughtfully, regarding her with an intensity that left her suddenly shy, yet entirely unable to look away. "Rose Tyler," he said slowly and there was wonder in every syllable, "why is it you always seem to know what to say?"
"I don't know," Rose blushed under the intensity of his gaze. "I just ... I know you, that's all." She glanced around the room, pondering how to phrase what she wanted to say. Even the candle's light was fading now, illuminating only the Doctor beside her, leaving the rest of the room in complete darkness. Rose smiled faintly at just how appropriate that was. "It's like," she began uncertainly, "how you take me to all these places and I don't have a clue how you do it, that's your department. This life, the aliens and all the planets, none of it makes sense to me. But you ... you just make sense. I understand you. I don't know why, or how, I just do. I know you," she finished quietly, smiling almost shyly up at him.
The Doctor let out a long breath, staring at her like she was the mystery he couldn't quite unravel. "Do you realise how extraordinary you are?"
"How did you ever cope without me?" Rose joked, though she immediately regretted it.
His face fell and the ever-present sparkle of adventure in his eyes burnt out in a flash of searing pain and loss, allowing her to see, just for a moment, the unimaginable loneliness within. "I didn't," he answered quietly, "not really."
It was moments like these when she truly appreciated what their separation had done to him. She'd had family and friends to comfort her when his image faded from that windswept beach but he had opened his eyes to an empty room in an empty ship, floating beside a dead star in the cold depths of space.
And she had promised him forever.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, though she wasn't sure what she was apologising for - for what she'd said, for leaving or for promising him forever and letting him believe her. Maybe all of it.
She reached out a hand and gripped his arm, giving him a tangible reminder that she was really beside him, that the pain was in the past now.
The Doctor felt warmth flood him again, spreading out from where her fingertips lay on his arm, thawing the cold numbness that had appeared so quickly at her words. It still amazed him that even when she was right there in front of him, in just one moment he could be back at that white wall, broken and filled with regret. He blinked away the memories and forced himself to focus on her face in front of him. He noticed, with a sudden burst of affection, that her eyes were darkened with concern. Only for him.
He smiled and Rose watched warily until his face came alive and a hint of infinity danced again behind his warm brown eyes. Only then did she return his smile.
"Last time I was in this century," he began, and Rose was relieved to hear his voice sounded light again. "Few years later than when we are now, I upset Martha and then spent a very long, very boring night sat on a tiny bed like this one, thinking and thinking and thinking about what was going on. And you know, like you said, it was the next day before I figured it all out."
"What was going on?"
"Oh all sorts," he said vaguely, "witches, or so it appeared ... ooh and Shakespeare. Nice bloke. Anyway, point is, you'd have said the right thing," he concluded, returning to his original point, "if you'd been there, I know you would have. Even if it was only 'don't be so daft'."
"I probably would have slapped you for upsetting me," Rose said, hoping to keep things light.
The Doctor shook his head, "Nah, I'd never have said what I said if it had been you."
"What did you say?" Rose asked, curiousity peaked.
Taking you back home tomorrow. "Doesn't matter." The Doctor spoke casually but there was a firmness in his voice that told Rose she wouldn't get it out of him. "All in the past now. Well all in the future technically," he added. "3 years from when we are now as it happens."
"Wierd."
"That's time travel for you. And," he added suddenly, "it's thanks to those events which haven't technically happened yet that I can confidently predict ... well relatively confidently anyway, that in the near future something we do is going to royally annoy Elizabeth I. Get it - royally annoy?"
"Oh ha-ha," Rose rolled her eyes at the childish delight in his face at his little pun. "God, we do seem to be developing a bit of a habit of annoying famous Monarchs though," she commented, remembering their run-in with Queen Victoria with a smile. Her smile dropped when she remembered how that had lead to Torchwood which had led to Norway and to Pete's World and to heartbreak for both of them. She glanced warily at The Doctor, hoping he wasn't following a similar trail of thoughts. To her relief it appeared he hadn't heard her at all. His gaze was looking beyond her again, to the mystery confronting them and judging by the faint frown appearing on his face, he wasn't having any breakthroughs.
"Oi! Snap out of it," she said in a raised voice, waving her free hand in front of his face until he blinked back to reality again. "What did I just say?"
"Sorry! Sorry! I was just-"
"Doing exactly what I said you'd do," Rose finished for him, stifling a yawn. "Still, I stand by what I said and I bet you ten quid you haven't got the answers by the time I wake up."
"No way," he pushed away the hand she offered to seal the bet, "you're probably right and I haven't got ten quid."
"Worth a try," Rose slurred her words slightly as sleep began to overtake her. She shifted slightly, moving her head to rest on his chest. "Pillow's rubbish," she muttered sleepily.
"'Goodnight Rose," said The Doctor softly, watching her eyes flutter closed.
Rose was asleep before he'd finished speaking, her body warm against his and wrapped securely in his long coat. The Doctor placed a light kiss to her head and returned his attention to the mystery confronting them. He began searching his memory of the day in the hope of remembering a scrap of information that could help but he'd barely got beyond breakfast when her words flooded his mind.
"Don't be so daft."
It was hard to worry about the nameless, shapeless threat somewhere beyond their window in the darkness of Tudor London. It was hard to worry about missing something when she was beside him, her warm weight on his chest, breathing slowly and evenly. It was hard, in fact, to worry about anything at all except where he could take her next. He smiled down at her, knowing and not caring that she'd intended to do this to him.
He settled for pondering an altogether different mystery that night, one he knew he'd never unravel and never really wanted to. He was the last of his kind and he'd had the whole of time and space to wander in alone. And yet somehow he'd found her not once, but twice. His perfect opposite, his other half and, he could almost hear her butting in, perhaps even his better half. The Doctor quietly watched the candle burn down to nothing, thinking of the young girl from his favourite planet who always knew what to say, who seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
Six hours later and the candle was nothing but a pool of wax on the holder. Sunlight streamed through the threadbare curtains and the street outside had already begun to bustle with activity.
Rose awoke with a scream, practically jumping out of bed and tossing The Doctor's coat at him.
"Morning," he said cheerfully, catching the coat in one hand.
"Something moved," Rose said breathlessly, watching the coat warily.
"Possibly Bob."
"Bob?"
"Good name for a Dormouse," The Doctor said brightly, grinning broadly at her.
Rose didn't look remotely amused. "It's far too early for this," she complained, reaching up a hand to try and tame her hair somewhat. "That bed was rubbish." She looked at him as though that was somehow his fault, wide awake now and more than usually grumpy. "I want a proper bed tonight," she told him firmly, tying her hair back, "and a nice long shower."
Before she could launch into a full blown rant, the Doctor, recognising the warning signs, stepped in. "Shopping," he said quickly as he struggled with his long coat.
"Shopping?" She repeated, helping his arm into a sleeve.
"Lots of it," he promised, grinning eagerly. "After we've annoyed the Queen. After you've had a proper rest in your bed in the TARDIS and a nice long bath." He grinned hopefully up at her and waited, holding out his hand.
Rose narrowed her eyes at him as though trying to find a hidden catch in his promise. After a few moments consideration, she smiled and put her hand in his. "Alright."
"Excellent," The Doctor said happily, leading her out of the door and smiling broadly. "Let's go!"
It wasn't difficult really, he thought to himself as they set out to solve whatever problems lay ahead, to know exactly what to say, once you'd found the right person to be saying it to.