Fic: Douceur 1/1
Story: Douceur
Author: wmr wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Ninth Doctor
Rated: PG13/Teen
Disclaimer: If these characters were mine, a lot more would have happened on screen than we saw!
Spoilers: None beyond Doomsday
Summary: They can only do this once, he knows that, and it’s going to be the experience of a lifetime.
Written for rallalon, in thanks for this; I hope it's okay, even if the rating's probably lower than you'd like! And with very grateful thanks to the wonderful kae_nine for BRing and keeping me on the straight and narrow.
Douceur
It’s all Rose’s doing, of course, though Jack freely admits that it’s only because he didn’t think of it first.
The Doctor’s not too keen - in fact, he’s completely opposed - but Rose knows all the tricks to get around him and then some. The puppy eyes, the pouty lips, the tongue peeking out, even the head on the Doctor’s shoulder with a soulful look. Then, as the Doctor’s still hesitating, she just happens to remind him how mean it was of him to leave Jack behind. That makes the Doctor turn to Jack, and he manages - just in time - to adopt a wounded look. Throwing up his hands, the Doctor agrees.
And that’s how they’re here, crossing their own timeline to find the Doctor’s earlier regeneration, the one with the short hair, leather jacket and prickly demeanour. The one he first fell in love with and still misses, even though he’s now every bit as much in love with the brown-haired, brown-suited version as well.
They can only do this once, he knows that, and it’s going to be the experience of a lifetime.
***
“You know I’ll say no,” the Doctor cautions them as they get ready to materialise. “In fact, knowing me - well, the me I was then - I’m gonna order you two out and then call me insane for even considering it.”
“Aw, we can talk him into it.” She grins up at the Doctor. “Don’t forget, I knew how to persuade you when you were him, too.”
He shakes his head. “You, Rose Tyler, are a bad influence.”
“And you love it, Doctor,” Jack interjects.
The Doctor looks from Jack to her, sighing; and then, abruptly, his lips curve into a smile. “You’re both a bad influence.” And Jack’s right. She knows he does love it, and never more than when they’re showing him how much they both love him.
She leans up to press her lips against his. His hands grip her shoulders as he kisses her back, then releases her to reach for Jack so that he can kiss him too.
Then, releasing them both, the Doctor turns to the console and, with a flourish, slams the lever down. They’re materialising.
***
He’s insane, that’s the only explanation as to why he’s doing this.
Though, no, it’s not that. As he pulls his coat on, he lets his gaze rest on his two companions and he knows exactly why he’s doing this. It’s not just that Rose can twist him around her little finger with that smile of hers. It’s that she’s here at all, when he could so easily have lost her. And, for all that Jack assumes it’s only Rose he’s doing it for, it’s just as much for the Captain.
Without Jack, he would have lost Rose at Canary Wharf. Without Rose, he would never have gone back for Jack in the first place.
It’s little enough, isn’t it, to give them this gift? A little reward, a way of saying thanks - and, perhaps, of giving his previous self a touch of the sort of kindness, gentleness even, that he spent all his short life avoiding.
Letting a grin curve over his face, he extends a hand to each of them. “Allons-y!”
Jack grins in turn. “Let’s give him the shock of his life!”
***
He’s tinkering under the console, taking advantage of the two humans being gone for a few hours. Shopping. Rose insisted, saying that she’d run out of stuff and that Jack really needed to supplement his wardrobe. Fair enough, he said, as long as they didn’t expect him to come with them.
The knock on the door’s unexpected. He ignores it. After all, he’s not expecting anyone, and who’d possibly be here, on rough ground right behind one of the biggest outlet malls in the United States, that he’d want to see? And he’s got important stuff to do here.
He ignores the second knock, too. They’ll go away, whoever it is. But they don’t. By the third knock, he’s starting to get irritated.
He’s just surging to his feet to give the person on the other side of the door a piece of his mind when there’s the sound of a key turning.
“Bloody hell, Jack, if that’s you-”
The man who walks in isn’t anyone he’s ever seen before, yet it’s someone he knows intimately.
“Oi! Are you completely insane?”
***
It’s him. Really him, after all these years. Same guy, same black leather, same ears, same hair that he always wanted to run his hand over. Same rough Northern voice that sent shivers through him every single time he heard it.
Oh, god. He’s falling in love all over again.
This is the man - the Time Lord - who left him behind. Who deliberately abandoned him on the Game Station, knowing that he was the only person left alive on the entire satellite. Knowing full well that he was immortal and that he wouldn’t have a clue what had happened to him. This is the Doctor who saved his life, made him better, turned him into a man who’d die for him, and then walked away without a backward glance.
He and Rose step out from behind their Doctor, taking up position on either side of the man in the brown coat, facing the man in black. And the Doctor in front of them looks back at the two of them, eyes widening in obvious recognition of who they are and when they’re from.
He smiles, even if it’s partly just a baring of teeth; he hadn’t realised until now just how much bitterness he still carries along with the love.
“Good to see you again, Doctor.”
***
Her first Doctor. God, he looks just as she remembered; she’s been afraid for a while that she’s forgetting. When she closes her eyes and thinks of him now, it’s harder to summon up that face, those eyes, that nose, the hair; harder to remember his voice in her head. Her Doctor. Her first Doctor, the one who took her hand, saved her life and showed her a whole new universe.
“Doctor.” It’s all she can say, and she can’t take her eyes off him. But he’s not looking at her now, or at Jack. He’s glaring at the other Doctor.
“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” her Doctor interjects casually. “Your Jack and Rose will be gone at least another four hours. Don’t forget, we know exactly how long they were gone.”
Her Northern Doctor glowers. “You better ‘ave a good reason for this.”
“Good enough,” the Doctor says, stepping forward. “Actually, a very good reason. Doing some friends a favour. Jack and Rose... they miss you, you see. They wanted to come and say hello. Didn’t you?” He turns to grin at the two of them, reaching for their hands at the same time.
“Hello.” His voice is gruff, angry, as he turns to her. Oh, she remembers that tone well. There’s sarcasm coming. This is his to insult lesser species with voice. “Right, you’ve got what you came for, now bugger off.”
“Don’t. Please, don’t be like that.” Freeing her hand, she steps towards her first Doctor, hand outstretched. “I missed you.”
For just a moment, his eyes soften as his gaze rests on her. Then he’s cold and withdrawn again. “Not that much. Looks like you’re perfectly happy with pretty boy over there.” He nods at the other Doctor.
“Course I am,” she says softly. “He’s you.”
***
Of course he’s angry. From his perspective, his future incarnation’s crossed his own timeline - and, worse, allowed companions to do it as well. Also, it can’t be much fun to see his regenerated self with his two companions - companions who don’t seem to have aged all that much from their current appearances - and to realise that he’s going to die fairly soon.
Rose is right; she always did know how to get through to the earlier him. It’s why he needed her so much, why the thought of losing her almost paralysed him at times. So he stays quiet, stays back with his hand in Jack’s - whether for Jack’s reassurance or his own he doesn’t know and refuses to speculate - and lets Rose handle things.
The younger him’s still standing stiffly, still with hurt in his eyes and withdrawal radiating through the rigidity of his body. And Rose, just as she’s done so many times, is standing her ground, refusing to back down, holding out her hand to a man who’s wishing she were anywhere but here, even as - and he knows this, because that man’s him - he’s aching to take her hand.
“Doctor,” she says softly. “Missed you so much. This you. You died on me, an’ I never got to say goodbye.”
Still, his younger self hesitates, and it’s all he can do not to go over to himself and shake himself until he rattles.
And then the proud, wounded face cracks, and the man in the leather jacket hauls Rose into his arms, hugging her as if he never wants to let her go. “Oh, Rose. I’m sorry I died. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”
***
She’s barely older at all than his Rose. Maybe a year or so at most.
So. Not a long life, this. Maybe that’s a good thing. He’s not much use in this body, really, is he? Too busy focusing on the past to pay much attention to the future; too busy missing the voices in his head to concentrate on the voices around him. Including this voice, and the voice of the Captain over there.
He’s listening now, though. Rose is sobbing in his arms, and he can’t have that. Most likely his future self - and, oh, he would have to regenerate into a pretty boy, wouldn’t he? - is gonna be furious that he’s made Rose cry.
“Hey, now.” He pulls back from her, looking down into that face he knows so well - and, yes, no more than a year older. “No tears. Not dead, am I? Not when I’m standing over there.” He jerks his head towards the later him.
“I know.” She smiles, and even through her tears it’s radiant. “I’m lucky. I’m so lucky, Doctor.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Got to be with two amazing, fantastic versions of you. An’ I love both of you. Jus’ wanted you to know that,” she says, then backs away, out of his arms. “That’s all. That’s why I asked him to take us back to see you. So I could tell you what I never could before.”
She’s struck him speechless, him with five billion languages and one heck of a gob. All he can do is look at her, and then, with a shaking hand, reach up to press his palm to her cheek, his fingers in her hair.
Finally, he manages two words. “Thank you.”
***
It feels like an age before the Doctor steps away from Rose and looks at him - really looks at him.
“Jack. What happened to you?”
There’s a wary note in the Doctor’s voice that he hadn’t expected, and it takes him a second or two to understand why. He’s wrong, of course. It’s that damn fixed point stuff again, isn’t it? His Doctor’s used to it now, to the point where it barely bothers him at all. Just the odd shiver once in a while when he’s feeling especially sensitive to the timelines.
But this Doctor didn’t know, because it hasn’t happened yet.
“Can’t tell you, Doctor,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice casual. “Timelines and all that.”
The leather-jacketed Doctor shrugs. “I’m guessin’, since the me holdin’ your hand doesn’t seem to have any idea how this’ll turn out, that I’ll wipe my memory after you’ve gone. So you can tell me anything you want.”
He shakes his head. “Not this. Trust me, Doctor, you don’t want to know any sooner than you have to.”
“You shouldn’t be like this, Jack.” The Doctor comes closer, until there’s only a couple of feet between them. Better. At least he’s not keeping his distance. “Shouldn’t happen. It’s a factual impossibility.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before, Doctor. And yet here I am.” This time, he can’t quite avoid the note of bitterness.
“My fault, then, is it?” the Doctor asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. There’s guilt and self-loathing all over his face, an expression he saw too many times from this Doctor. And it’s enough to make the bitterness vanish completely. After all, this Doctor carries more than enough guilt without him adding to it.
“No!” Rose hurries over and stands beside the younger Doctor. “Was my fault. I did it.” She looks as if she’s about to say more, but then stops abruptly.
“Doesn’t matter who did it,” the older Doctor says. “It happened, and that’s that. He’s still Jack, though. Still brilliant. Still my friend.”
The younger Doctor nods. “Fair enough. So, Captain, you wanted to say goodbye too?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I got to say goodbye. I wanted...”
Right up to this second, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. Yet now it’s the easiest thing in the world to drop the other Doctor’s hand, step forward and take this Doctor’s face between his palms.
“I wanted to tell you that I forgive you,” he says, then leans in and kisses this Doctor for the second and last time in his life.
***
She watches Jack kiss the Doctor with a combination of jealousy and breathlessness.
He’s braver - or maybe just more reckless - than she is. The Doctor - the newer Doctor - told them that this younger him did want them, both of them; that he dreamed of kissing them and more besides, but he never did it. He always believed that it couldn’t be allowed to happen, the Doctor told them, because they’re human and he’s a Time Lord, and because there was so much he felt he could never tell them about himself. Stuff he’d done, the kind of man he was.
Not that their Doctor’s told them all that much either, but at least he doesn’t feel guilty about it. They’ve told him they understand that he has his secrets and that’s okay. But then things are very different now.
It all changed the day they nearly lost each other, when the Daleks returned and she’d have been ripped away into the Void if Jack hadn’t been there, guarding the second lever while the Doctor looked after the ghost-shift machine, and caught her just in time. They all had narrow escapes that day, the Doctor nearly getting caught in an extermination blast and Jack, taken by surprise and dragged into the Cyber manufacturing unit, just managing to escape in time.
Back in the TARDIS, their narrow escapes sinking in, the realisation of her permanent separation from her mum leading to tears and to comfort from both men, that was when hugs turned clingy, reassuring touches turned to never let you go, and grateful smiles turned to long, lingering looks. When all three of them ended up naked in the Doctor’s bed, it felt like the inevitable conclusion of a very long courtship. And it felt fantastic.
And, ever since, she’s wondered what it would’ve been like if she’d had the chance to do this with her first Doctor. Not even to shag him; just kiss him.
He’s kissing Jack back. His hands are on Jack’s shoulders, holding the Captain close, and his lips are parted as he tastes and explores the man he habitually disparages, even if by now it’s almost all in fun. Even as heat builds inside her, watching them, it strikes her for the first time how hard it must have been for him, for this Doctor, who had so little and was so alone, to leave Jack behind.
Then the kiss breaks and the Doctor brushes a hand over Jack’s hair before turning to her. “Rose?” It’s a question, and also, she thinks, a plea.
She steps forward, raising her face to his and, she hopes, letting him see how much she wants this too.
Cool hands cup her face, and her breath catches as equally cool lips descend and her first Doctor kisses her, all fire and ice and longing and full of what she knows is love. She sighs into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him, determined to show him, as well as telling him, how much she loves him too, has always loved him, right from the moment he took her hand and told her he could feel the turn of the Earth beneath their feet. This is the goodbye she never had from him, this man she would have given her life to save, but who gave his to save her instead.
When he breaks the kiss, she thinks his eyes are moist, but she can’t be sure because her own are blurry. When he says her name, though, his voice catches, and she has to reach up and kiss him again.
***
They’ve got what they wanted, his two companions. Good. And, he thinks, his previous self has got something he needed - even if he will just wipe all of this from his memory the second they leave.
Hands in his pockets, he waits for Jack and Rose to say their goodbyes and come with him. But, instead, they step back and his earlier self comes to stand in front of him.
“And you? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” It’s not easy to lie when he’s looking into his own eyes, but he knows better than anyone here that this him is the last one to accept even a hint of sympathy from another self. “Jack and Rose wanted to see you. And when there isn’t a planet needing saving, and there’s no-one to rescue, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of them. You know that,” he adds, rocking back on his heels. “It’s been the same with any companion we’ve ever had.”
His younger self nods. “But they’re not the same as most of our companions. Not any more.” Blue eyes hold his, and he knows that his previous self has seen what the three of them are to each other. That he’s given up holding back, refusing to take what’s on offer, what he always wanted from them.
“Yep.” He smiles, sending a message he knows will be understood. That it’s good. That it’s worth it - worth everything, including the knowledge that one day he’ll be alone again, Rose dead, Jack having moved on, as he will some day.
“Keep them safe,” the other man says, and he nods, promising. Of course, for his counterpart this is just a day after he almost lost both of them when Jack and Rose were kidnapped and almost burned at the stake on a planet they never should have landed on. It was only thanks to the TARDIS - for once not getting the timing wrong - and Rose’s ability to engage their captors in conversation, that the two of them survived.
“He does,” Jack says, stepping up to stand beside him. “Always.”
“We keep each other safe,” Rose adds. “That’s the way it’s always been, Doctor. Remember?”
His counterpart nods agreement.
Time to go. He reaches for his companions’ hands. “Well. Molto bene. That’s it then, I suppose. Places to go, and all that...”
With obvious reluctance, both of them wrap fingers around his. “Bye, Doctor,” Rose says, and Jack, with his free hand, sketches a salute.
He holds his other self’s gaze for a long moment before beginning to turn away towards the door.
***
“Wait.”
They halt, the three of them looking at him questioningly. He swallows. What he wants... what he wants is easy to decide, less easy to explain. Two things are obvious. He - the later him - shares his bed as well as his life with Rose and Jack. And he - this him - never got to do that. Those kisses told him that.
“You said four hours?”
His future self nods, smiling, then drops his companions’ hands. The message is clear. They’re being given permission, all three of them.
He holds out his hands to them instead, an invitation and a plea. He doesn’t - can’t - breathe again until it’s accepted, by both of them.
Without a word, he turns, leading the way towards the door to the TARDIS interior. Without a word, Jack and Rose walk alongside him, their bodies so close he can feel the human heat they’re generating.
Just before the door, he pauses and glances back over his shoulder. “Coming?”
“I don’t have to,” the pretty boy he’s become says. “Thought you wouldn’t want me around, not for this.”
“Better that than have you imaginin’ what we’re up to. Which is what I’d be doin’ if it was me.”
Rose, next to him, half-turns, holding out her hand. “Get a move on, Doctor.” She grins; oh, so she still does that thing with her tongue? “Four hours, remember?”
Pretty boy - and that hair can’t be real, can it? - runs.
***
The room he brings them to isn’t the Doctor’s own. He can understand that, though. All this Doctor will have is today, and he’s going to wipe his memory, isn’t he? In the circumstances, he’s not going to want to do this in his own room.
Immediately, the Doctor drops hands and turns to Rose, framing her face between his palms again, and kisses her with such obvious, aching tenderness he’s tempted to take the other Doctor out of the room and just leave the two of them alone. But before he can act on it a strong hand catches his arm, drawing him in, and he’s surrounded by the scent of leather and soft blonde hair.
They’re the same man, just in different wrapping, yet they kiss so differently. His Doctor, his lover, teases and nibbles, then uses his tongue in a way that probably is illegal in at least one galaxy. This Doctor’s kissing like a starving man - but then maybe he is.
Minutes later, they’re ripping each other’s clothes off, and he’s helping the Doctor lay Rose on the bed, then the two of them come down on either side of her. She’s sighing and whimpering as he shows the Doctor where to touch her and where to kiss to make her cry out.
Everything changes when Rose surges up, pushes the Doctor down and winks at Jack. “Time to make him scream, yeah?”
He’s not going to argue with that. And it turns out to be rather easy, too; this Doctor’s got just as many erogenous zones as his later self, and is just as partial to lips and a tongue in the right places.
It’s not long at all before they’ve managed to make the Doctor scream, or what’s probably as close to it as they’ll get, with a combination of kisses and touches, and he’s just stretching the muscles in his neck and shoulders when he notices the other Doctor, still fully clothed, leaning the door-jamb just watching them. Watching closely, and liking what he’s seeing, judging by the dark, intent look in his eyes.
“Y’know, Doctor - or should I say Doctors - there’s something I’ve always wondered,” he drawls, letting a slow grin creep over his face.
“Yeah? What’s that?” a northern-accented voice asks.
“Is it true that Time Lords aren’t affected by the Blinovitch Limitation Effect?”
***
The Blinovitch Limitation Effect? She’s about to ask what that is, but before she can the older Doctor, who she’d almost forgotten was in the room, laughs out loud. “Trust you to think of that, Jack.”
“Got a point, though, hasn’t he?” the Doctor lying naked beside her comments.
“Up to you.” Her second Doctor shrugs.
The Doctor on the bed grins. “Get your skinny arse over ‘ere. Preferably naked.”
Heat pools inside her again as she realises just what Jack meant, and what’s about to happen. She’s already come twice thanks to the Doctor and Jack’s too-clever tongues and fingers, but now she’s right on the edge again.
He sheds his clothes as he strolls over, letting them fall to the floor, and he’s naked when he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He bends, and she can read the intent in his gaze; he’s going to kiss someone.
It’s almost like watching in slow motion as her first Doctor reaches up, sliding his fingers into her second Doctor’s hair, and pulls his head down. Her jaw slackens when their lips meet in a kiss that’s tender for all of two seconds, and then explosive.
“Worth seeing, yeah?” Jack whispers, his lips brushing her ear.
“God, yeah.”
“That answer your question, Captain?” Her first Doctor breaks the kiss, turning to grin at them.
“Oh, you don’t want to know what I’m imagining right now,” Jack retorts, his grin even wider.
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shagged ourselves, would it?” the older Doctor comments, a sly smile on his lips as he strokes a hand slowly down his younger self’s torso.
“That’s a story I gotta hear.” Even Jack’s looking surprised, and she knows there’s not a lot that’s beyond his experience.
“Get pretty boy to tell you later. More important stuff to do right now.”
She’d be tempted to agree with Jack - this is a story she wants to hear - but intense blue eyes are gazing at her with a look of lust and need she always longed to see from him, but never dreamed she would.
“Rose.” Even his voice is deeper, sending shivers through her. “Can I...” He hesitates, then adds, “...dance with you?”
She hugs him tightly, pulling him closer to her. “Thought you’d never ask.”
***
He remembers only too well how badly he wanted to dance with Rose, how much effort it took to hold back that day in the Albion Hospital when she was flirting madly with him and using Jack to make him jealous. There were times he’d tell himself the only reason he rescued Jack was to have the Captain as a buffer, to prevent himself doing something he swore he wouldn’t ever do.
Now, though, he knows how foolish it was to hold back. He can’t take his eyes off his younger self’s face as he joins his body to Rose’s; the expression of awed ecstasy is, he’s sure, just how he looked when he made love to her for the first time.
“Hey. They’re not exactly paying us any attention. Wanna have some fun of our own?”
He leans over and kisses Jack, the man he stupidly left behind because he was too cowardly to learn to control his reaction to what Rose had made him. Took him far too long, too, to tell Rose what had really happened and to find Jack - a Jack fifty years older than the bloke he abandoned, yet who still loved the two of them despite everything. Fortunately. Very fortunately.
“You’ll get your turn,” he assures Jack; his friend - lover - wants this too, very badly, and he’ll make sure that Jack gets it. Dancing doesn’t have to be a minuet, or even a waltz, after all. The universe has invented lots of trio dances through the millennia, and even more for quartets. There’s not enough time to explore all of them, but enough for some.
Quartets it is then, as Rose uses her lips on Jack while his last self shags the Captain and he gets to shag Rose, and again later when Jack gets to see what he was imagining him and his last regeneration doing, much to his delight. There’s laughter and joy, even impatience as his earlier self tells him off for talking too much and finds novel ways of shutting him up, and above all there’s intimacy, love even, as they move together, as he and Rose and Jack focus on showing his younger self everything that’s too difficult to put into words.
Time’s running out as the four of them still at last, a tangle of limbs on the bed, and reluctantly he says so. “We need to leave. Your younger selves are gonna be back soon.”
“Yeah.” Rose leans over the edge of the bed, looking for her clothes.
Jack’s about to sit up, but a hand presses against his chest. “Jack. Whatever it is I’m gonna do to you, I’m sorry.”
Jack leans over and kisses the other Doctor. “It’s okay. See? We’re fine. No lasting damage.”
“Yes, there is,” the Doctor insists. “If I could change it, I would, yeah?”
“You can’t,” Jack tells him. “And even if you could... I don’t want you to. Everything happens for a reason, Doctor. And what you’re gonna do to me...” He grins. “That’s one of the reasons he brought us here today. Cause he felt he owed me a favour.”
Maybe that was part of it, yes. Maybe more of it was for himself - both of him. Because, even if he’ll never remember, for one absolutely brilliant afternoon his past self’s known beyond any doubt that he is loved.
***
The TARDIS is silent. They’ve gone, and he’s alone again.
Not for long, of course; his Jack and Rose will be back any minute, chattering excitedly and wanting to show off their purchases. And he’ll pretend to be bored and impatient, rolling his eyes and making sarcastic comments, while inside he’ll just be happy that they’re here and that they want to be with him.
He doesn’t have long with them. A few months at most, given that Rose looks barely a year older. At least he does something right, though: he keeps her with him, even if there are occasional shades of sadness in her eyes and she avoided answering when he thought he was being nice and asking how Jackie is. Jack, on the other hand... immortal, and though he doesn’t look a day older his eyes reveal more than Jack would realise. At least fifty additional human years there; what is it he’s going to do to the lad? And why doesn’t he put it right sooner?
But that’s the future, and he can’t know it. Just as he can’t remember any of this. Even if... even if it’s made him feel better than he’s felt in a very long time. Even if, for one fantastic afternoon, he felt less alien, less alone, less apart from the two humans who mean most to him.
It’s time to forget. Yet, just for a moment, he stills, standing with his palms resting against the console.
It gets better, his regenerated self told him just before they left, kissing him gently. Won’t ever be easy, and you’ll make mistakes and all three of you will suffer, but it is better.
Yes. And, if he lets himself admit it, things are pretty fantastic right now.
Smiling, he brings his fingers to his temples, preparing to wipe away the last four hours. But... no, not a simple wipe. There’s a better way.
Seconds later, his hands fall and he blinks, staring at the door that’s opening to reveal his companions and wondering where the time disappeared to.
***
“Thank you,” she says softly, reaching up to kiss the Doctor as soon as they’ve dematerialised.
“Yeah.” Jack leans in as soon as she pulls back. “Thanks. You have no idea what that meant to me.”
The Doctor smiles, hugging them both to him. “Oh, I think I do. And...” He frowns, then a very odd expression comes over his face for a moment before he grins. “And I know what it meant to me, too. That me.”
“You do?” Well, they’re the same person. Maybe they communicate telepathically or something?
“I remember. He left a trigger when he wiped his memory of what we did.” The Doctor kisses both of them again, deep and affectionate. “Thank you. Both of you. That... that time we spent together was a precious gift. You told me, Rose, so many times, that I wasn’t alone. That was the first time I really believed you. You and Jack.”
“You’ll never be alone, as long as you’ve got us.” And, even though he won’t have her for the forever she once promised him, he’ll still have Jack. That’s a comfort for her on the nights when she wakes up dreading the thought of growing old and frail while her two men stay young and healthy.
But that’s life, isn’t it? And one thing all three of them have taught each other is that the most important thing is now.
Today, they all gave each other a precious gift. It’s not only her first Doctor who sees it that way, and even if he won’t remember it she hopes he knows, really knows, that he’s loved. Still loved, even though he’s gone. And that her second Doctor knows he’s loved every bit as much.
“Right, then!” The Doctor’s released them and started dashing around the console. “Where we off to now?”
She exchanges a fond grin with Jack. That’s so him, both of him, never standing still for more than a moment, not even to savour the good times. But it’s just one of the many things she loves about him.
“Somewhere exciting,” she tells him, and that makes him wink at her.
“Do I ever take you anywhere else?”
“Never,” Jack says, and leans across to slap a button on the console, the one she now knows is the randomiser setting. He grins. “Allons-y?”
“Always,” the Doctor answers.
- end
Douceur: From the French, having multiple meanings including kindness, gentleness, clemency, well-being and pleasurable to the senses. Older meanings include reward and gift.
Author: wmr wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Ninth Doctor
Rated: PG13/Teen
Disclaimer: If these characters were mine, a lot more would have happened on screen than we saw!
Spoilers: None beyond Doomsday
Summary: They can only do this once, he knows that, and it’s going to be the experience of a lifetime.
Written for rallalon, in thanks for this; I hope it's okay, even if the rating's probably lower than you'd like! And with very grateful thanks to the wonderful kae_nine for BRing and keeping me on the straight and narrow.
Douceur
It’s all Rose’s doing, of course, though Jack freely admits that it’s only because he didn’t think of it first.
The Doctor’s not too keen - in fact, he’s completely opposed - but Rose knows all the tricks to get around him and then some. The puppy eyes, the pouty lips, the tongue peeking out, even the head on the Doctor’s shoulder with a soulful look. Then, as the Doctor’s still hesitating, she just happens to remind him how mean it was of him to leave Jack behind. That makes the Doctor turn to Jack, and he manages - just in time - to adopt a wounded look. Throwing up his hands, the Doctor agrees.
And that’s how they’re here, crossing their own timeline to find the Doctor’s earlier regeneration, the one with the short hair, leather jacket and prickly demeanour. The one he first fell in love with and still misses, even though he’s now every bit as much in love with the brown-haired, brown-suited version as well.
They can only do this once, he knows that, and it’s going to be the experience of a lifetime.
***
“You know I’ll say no,” the Doctor cautions them as they get ready to materialise. “In fact, knowing me - well, the me I was then - I’m gonna order you two out and then call me insane for even considering it.”
“Aw, we can talk him into it.” She grins up at the Doctor. “Don’t forget, I knew how to persuade you when you were him, too.”
He shakes his head. “You, Rose Tyler, are a bad influence.”
“And you love it, Doctor,” Jack interjects.
The Doctor looks from Jack to her, sighing; and then, abruptly, his lips curve into a smile. “You’re both a bad influence.” And Jack’s right. She knows he does love it, and never more than when they’re showing him how much they both love him.
She leans up to press her lips against his. His hands grip her shoulders as he kisses her back, then releases her to reach for Jack so that he can kiss him too.
Then, releasing them both, the Doctor turns to the console and, with a flourish, slams the lever down. They’re materialising.
***
He’s insane, that’s the only explanation as to why he’s doing this.
Though, no, it’s not that. As he pulls his coat on, he lets his gaze rest on his two companions and he knows exactly why he’s doing this. It’s not just that Rose can twist him around her little finger with that smile of hers. It’s that she’s here at all, when he could so easily have lost her. And, for all that Jack assumes it’s only Rose he’s doing it for, it’s just as much for the Captain.
Without Jack, he would have lost Rose at Canary Wharf. Without Rose, he would never have gone back for Jack in the first place.
It’s little enough, isn’t it, to give them this gift? A little reward, a way of saying thanks - and, perhaps, of giving his previous self a touch of the sort of kindness, gentleness even, that he spent all his short life avoiding.
Letting a grin curve over his face, he extends a hand to each of them. “Allons-y!”
Jack grins in turn. “Let’s give him the shock of his life!”
***
He’s tinkering under the console, taking advantage of the two humans being gone for a few hours. Shopping. Rose insisted, saying that she’d run out of stuff and that Jack really needed to supplement his wardrobe. Fair enough, he said, as long as they didn’t expect him to come with them.
The knock on the door’s unexpected. He ignores it. After all, he’s not expecting anyone, and who’d possibly be here, on rough ground right behind one of the biggest outlet malls in the United States, that he’d want to see? And he’s got important stuff to do here.
He ignores the second knock, too. They’ll go away, whoever it is. But they don’t. By the third knock, he’s starting to get irritated.
He’s just surging to his feet to give the person on the other side of the door a piece of his mind when there’s the sound of a key turning.
“Bloody hell, Jack, if that’s you-”
The man who walks in isn’t anyone he’s ever seen before, yet it’s someone he knows intimately.
“Oi! Are you completely insane?”
***
It’s him. Really him, after all these years. Same guy, same black leather, same ears, same hair that he always wanted to run his hand over. Same rough Northern voice that sent shivers through him every single time he heard it.
Oh, god. He’s falling in love all over again.
This is the man - the Time Lord - who left him behind. Who deliberately abandoned him on the Game Station, knowing that he was the only person left alive on the entire satellite. Knowing full well that he was immortal and that he wouldn’t have a clue what had happened to him. This is the Doctor who saved his life, made him better, turned him into a man who’d die for him, and then walked away without a backward glance.
He and Rose step out from behind their Doctor, taking up position on either side of the man in the brown coat, facing the man in black. And the Doctor in front of them looks back at the two of them, eyes widening in obvious recognition of who they are and when they’re from.
He smiles, even if it’s partly just a baring of teeth; he hadn’t realised until now just how much bitterness he still carries along with the love.
“Good to see you again, Doctor.”
***
Her first Doctor. God, he looks just as she remembered; she’s been afraid for a while that she’s forgetting. When she closes her eyes and thinks of him now, it’s harder to summon up that face, those eyes, that nose, the hair; harder to remember his voice in her head. Her Doctor. Her first Doctor, the one who took her hand, saved her life and showed her a whole new universe.
“Doctor.” It’s all she can say, and she can’t take her eyes off him. But he’s not looking at her now, or at Jack. He’s glaring at the other Doctor.
“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” her Doctor interjects casually. “Your Jack and Rose will be gone at least another four hours. Don’t forget, we know exactly how long they were gone.”
Her Northern Doctor glowers. “You better ‘ave a good reason for this.”
“Good enough,” the Doctor says, stepping forward. “Actually, a very good reason. Doing some friends a favour. Jack and Rose... they miss you, you see. They wanted to come and say hello. Didn’t you?” He turns to grin at the two of them, reaching for their hands at the same time.
“Hello.” His voice is gruff, angry, as he turns to her. Oh, she remembers that tone well. There’s sarcasm coming. This is his to insult lesser species with voice. “Right, you’ve got what you came for, now bugger off.”
“Don’t. Please, don’t be like that.” Freeing her hand, she steps towards her first Doctor, hand outstretched. “I missed you.”
For just a moment, his eyes soften as his gaze rests on her. Then he’s cold and withdrawn again. “Not that much. Looks like you’re perfectly happy with pretty boy over there.” He nods at the other Doctor.
“Course I am,” she says softly. “He’s you.”
***
Of course he’s angry. From his perspective, his future incarnation’s crossed his own timeline - and, worse, allowed companions to do it as well. Also, it can’t be much fun to see his regenerated self with his two companions - companions who don’t seem to have aged all that much from their current appearances - and to realise that he’s going to die fairly soon.
Rose is right; she always did know how to get through to the earlier him. It’s why he needed her so much, why the thought of losing her almost paralysed him at times. So he stays quiet, stays back with his hand in Jack’s - whether for Jack’s reassurance or his own he doesn’t know and refuses to speculate - and lets Rose handle things.
The younger him’s still standing stiffly, still with hurt in his eyes and withdrawal radiating through the rigidity of his body. And Rose, just as she’s done so many times, is standing her ground, refusing to back down, holding out her hand to a man who’s wishing she were anywhere but here, even as - and he knows this, because that man’s him - he’s aching to take her hand.
“Doctor,” she says softly. “Missed you so much. This you. You died on me, an’ I never got to say goodbye.”
Still, his younger self hesitates, and it’s all he can do not to go over to himself and shake himself until he rattles.
And then the proud, wounded face cracks, and the man in the leather jacket hauls Rose into his arms, hugging her as if he never wants to let her go. “Oh, Rose. I’m sorry I died. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”
***
She’s barely older at all than his Rose. Maybe a year or so at most.
So. Not a long life, this. Maybe that’s a good thing. He’s not much use in this body, really, is he? Too busy focusing on the past to pay much attention to the future; too busy missing the voices in his head to concentrate on the voices around him. Including this voice, and the voice of the Captain over there.
He’s listening now, though. Rose is sobbing in his arms, and he can’t have that. Most likely his future self - and, oh, he would have to regenerate into a pretty boy, wouldn’t he? - is gonna be furious that he’s made Rose cry.
“Hey, now.” He pulls back from her, looking down into that face he knows so well - and, yes, no more than a year older. “No tears. Not dead, am I? Not when I’m standing over there.” He jerks his head towards the later him.
“I know.” She smiles, and even through her tears it’s radiant. “I’m lucky. I’m so lucky, Doctor.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Got to be with two amazing, fantastic versions of you. An’ I love both of you. Jus’ wanted you to know that,” she says, then backs away, out of his arms. “That’s all. That’s why I asked him to take us back to see you. So I could tell you what I never could before.”
She’s struck him speechless, him with five billion languages and one heck of a gob. All he can do is look at her, and then, with a shaking hand, reach up to press his palm to her cheek, his fingers in her hair.
Finally, he manages two words. “Thank you.”
***
It feels like an age before the Doctor steps away from Rose and looks at him - really looks at him.
“Jack. What happened to you?”
There’s a wary note in the Doctor’s voice that he hadn’t expected, and it takes him a second or two to understand why. He’s wrong, of course. It’s that damn fixed point stuff again, isn’t it? His Doctor’s used to it now, to the point where it barely bothers him at all. Just the odd shiver once in a while when he’s feeling especially sensitive to the timelines.
But this Doctor didn’t know, because it hasn’t happened yet.
“Can’t tell you, Doctor,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice casual. “Timelines and all that.”
The leather-jacketed Doctor shrugs. “I’m guessin’, since the me holdin’ your hand doesn’t seem to have any idea how this’ll turn out, that I’ll wipe my memory after you’ve gone. So you can tell me anything you want.”
He shakes his head. “Not this. Trust me, Doctor, you don’t want to know any sooner than you have to.”
“You shouldn’t be like this, Jack.” The Doctor comes closer, until there’s only a couple of feet between them. Better. At least he’s not keeping his distance. “Shouldn’t happen. It’s a factual impossibility.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before, Doctor. And yet here I am.” This time, he can’t quite avoid the note of bitterness.
“My fault, then, is it?” the Doctor asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. There’s guilt and self-loathing all over his face, an expression he saw too many times from this Doctor. And it’s enough to make the bitterness vanish completely. After all, this Doctor carries more than enough guilt without him adding to it.
“No!” Rose hurries over and stands beside the younger Doctor. “Was my fault. I did it.” She looks as if she’s about to say more, but then stops abruptly.
“Doesn’t matter who did it,” the older Doctor says. “It happened, and that’s that. He’s still Jack, though. Still brilliant. Still my friend.”
The younger Doctor nods. “Fair enough. So, Captain, you wanted to say goodbye too?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I got to say goodbye. I wanted...”
Right up to this second, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. Yet now it’s the easiest thing in the world to drop the other Doctor’s hand, step forward and take this Doctor’s face between his palms.
“I wanted to tell you that I forgive you,” he says, then leans in and kisses this Doctor for the second and last time in his life.
***
She watches Jack kiss the Doctor with a combination of jealousy and breathlessness.
He’s braver - or maybe just more reckless - than she is. The Doctor - the newer Doctor - told them that this younger him did want them, both of them; that he dreamed of kissing them and more besides, but he never did it. He always believed that it couldn’t be allowed to happen, the Doctor told them, because they’re human and he’s a Time Lord, and because there was so much he felt he could never tell them about himself. Stuff he’d done, the kind of man he was.
Not that their Doctor’s told them all that much either, but at least he doesn’t feel guilty about it. They’ve told him they understand that he has his secrets and that’s okay. But then things are very different now.
It all changed the day they nearly lost each other, when the Daleks returned and she’d have been ripped away into the Void if Jack hadn’t been there, guarding the second lever while the Doctor looked after the ghost-shift machine, and caught her just in time. They all had narrow escapes that day, the Doctor nearly getting caught in an extermination blast and Jack, taken by surprise and dragged into the Cyber manufacturing unit, just managing to escape in time.
Back in the TARDIS, their narrow escapes sinking in, the realisation of her permanent separation from her mum leading to tears and to comfort from both men, that was when hugs turned clingy, reassuring touches turned to never let you go, and grateful smiles turned to long, lingering looks. When all three of them ended up naked in the Doctor’s bed, it felt like the inevitable conclusion of a very long courtship. And it felt fantastic.
And, ever since, she’s wondered what it would’ve been like if she’d had the chance to do this with her first Doctor. Not even to shag him; just kiss him.
He’s kissing Jack back. His hands are on Jack’s shoulders, holding the Captain close, and his lips are parted as he tastes and explores the man he habitually disparages, even if by now it’s almost all in fun. Even as heat builds inside her, watching them, it strikes her for the first time how hard it must have been for him, for this Doctor, who had so little and was so alone, to leave Jack behind.
Then the kiss breaks and the Doctor brushes a hand over Jack’s hair before turning to her. “Rose?” It’s a question, and also, she thinks, a plea.
She steps forward, raising her face to his and, she hopes, letting him see how much she wants this too.
Cool hands cup her face, and her breath catches as equally cool lips descend and her first Doctor kisses her, all fire and ice and longing and full of what she knows is love. She sighs into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him, determined to show him, as well as telling him, how much she loves him too, has always loved him, right from the moment he took her hand and told her he could feel the turn of the Earth beneath their feet. This is the goodbye she never had from him, this man she would have given her life to save, but who gave his to save her instead.
When he breaks the kiss, she thinks his eyes are moist, but she can’t be sure because her own are blurry. When he says her name, though, his voice catches, and she has to reach up and kiss him again.
***
They’ve got what they wanted, his two companions. Good. And, he thinks, his previous self has got something he needed - even if he will just wipe all of this from his memory the second they leave.
Hands in his pockets, he waits for Jack and Rose to say their goodbyes and come with him. But, instead, they step back and his earlier self comes to stand in front of him.
“And you? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” It’s not easy to lie when he’s looking into his own eyes, but he knows better than anyone here that this him is the last one to accept even a hint of sympathy from another self. “Jack and Rose wanted to see you. And when there isn’t a planet needing saving, and there’s no-one to rescue, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of them. You know that,” he adds, rocking back on his heels. “It’s been the same with any companion we’ve ever had.”
His younger self nods. “But they’re not the same as most of our companions. Not any more.” Blue eyes hold his, and he knows that his previous self has seen what the three of them are to each other. That he’s given up holding back, refusing to take what’s on offer, what he always wanted from them.
“Yep.” He smiles, sending a message he knows will be understood. That it’s good. That it’s worth it - worth everything, including the knowledge that one day he’ll be alone again, Rose dead, Jack having moved on, as he will some day.
“Keep them safe,” the other man says, and he nods, promising. Of course, for his counterpart this is just a day after he almost lost both of them when Jack and Rose were kidnapped and almost burned at the stake on a planet they never should have landed on. It was only thanks to the TARDIS - for once not getting the timing wrong - and Rose’s ability to engage their captors in conversation, that the two of them survived.
“He does,” Jack says, stepping up to stand beside him. “Always.”
“We keep each other safe,” Rose adds. “That’s the way it’s always been, Doctor. Remember?”
His counterpart nods agreement.
Time to go. He reaches for his companions’ hands. “Well. Molto bene. That’s it then, I suppose. Places to go, and all that...”
With obvious reluctance, both of them wrap fingers around his. “Bye, Doctor,” Rose says, and Jack, with his free hand, sketches a salute.
He holds his other self’s gaze for a long moment before beginning to turn away towards the door.
***
“Wait.”
They halt, the three of them looking at him questioningly. He swallows. What he wants... what he wants is easy to decide, less easy to explain. Two things are obvious. He - the later him - shares his bed as well as his life with Rose and Jack. And he - this him - never got to do that. Those kisses told him that.
“You said four hours?”
His future self nods, smiling, then drops his companions’ hands. The message is clear. They’re being given permission, all three of them.
He holds out his hands to them instead, an invitation and a plea. He doesn’t - can’t - breathe again until it’s accepted, by both of them.
Without a word, he turns, leading the way towards the door to the TARDIS interior. Without a word, Jack and Rose walk alongside him, their bodies so close he can feel the human heat they’re generating.
Just before the door, he pauses and glances back over his shoulder. “Coming?”
“I don’t have to,” the pretty boy he’s become says. “Thought you wouldn’t want me around, not for this.”
“Better that than have you imaginin’ what we’re up to. Which is what I’d be doin’ if it was me.”
Rose, next to him, half-turns, holding out her hand. “Get a move on, Doctor.” She grins; oh, so she still does that thing with her tongue? “Four hours, remember?”
Pretty boy - and that hair can’t be real, can it? - runs.
***
The room he brings them to isn’t the Doctor’s own. He can understand that, though. All this Doctor will have is today, and he’s going to wipe his memory, isn’t he? In the circumstances, he’s not going to want to do this in his own room.
Immediately, the Doctor drops hands and turns to Rose, framing her face between his palms again, and kisses her with such obvious, aching tenderness he’s tempted to take the other Doctor out of the room and just leave the two of them alone. But before he can act on it a strong hand catches his arm, drawing him in, and he’s surrounded by the scent of leather and soft blonde hair.
They’re the same man, just in different wrapping, yet they kiss so differently. His Doctor, his lover, teases and nibbles, then uses his tongue in a way that probably is illegal in at least one galaxy. This Doctor’s kissing like a starving man - but then maybe he is.
Minutes later, they’re ripping each other’s clothes off, and he’s helping the Doctor lay Rose on the bed, then the two of them come down on either side of her. She’s sighing and whimpering as he shows the Doctor where to touch her and where to kiss to make her cry out.
Everything changes when Rose surges up, pushes the Doctor down and winks at Jack. “Time to make him scream, yeah?”
He’s not going to argue with that. And it turns out to be rather easy, too; this Doctor’s got just as many erogenous zones as his later self, and is just as partial to lips and a tongue in the right places.
It’s not long at all before they’ve managed to make the Doctor scream, or what’s probably as close to it as they’ll get, with a combination of kisses and touches, and he’s just stretching the muscles in his neck and shoulders when he notices the other Doctor, still fully clothed, leaning the door-jamb just watching them. Watching closely, and liking what he’s seeing, judging by the dark, intent look in his eyes.
“Y’know, Doctor - or should I say Doctors - there’s something I’ve always wondered,” he drawls, letting a slow grin creep over his face.
“Yeah? What’s that?” a northern-accented voice asks.
“Is it true that Time Lords aren’t affected by the Blinovitch Limitation Effect?”
***
The Blinovitch Limitation Effect? She’s about to ask what that is, but before she can the older Doctor, who she’d almost forgotten was in the room, laughs out loud. “Trust you to think of that, Jack.”
“Got a point, though, hasn’t he?” the Doctor lying naked beside her comments.
“Up to you.” Her second Doctor shrugs.
The Doctor on the bed grins. “Get your skinny arse over ‘ere. Preferably naked.”
Heat pools inside her again as she realises just what Jack meant, and what’s about to happen. She’s already come twice thanks to the Doctor and Jack’s too-clever tongues and fingers, but now she’s right on the edge again.
He sheds his clothes as he strolls over, letting them fall to the floor, and he’s naked when he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He bends, and she can read the intent in his gaze; he’s going to kiss someone.
It’s almost like watching in slow motion as her first Doctor reaches up, sliding his fingers into her second Doctor’s hair, and pulls his head down. Her jaw slackens when their lips meet in a kiss that’s tender for all of two seconds, and then explosive.
“Worth seeing, yeah?” Jack whispers, his lips brushing her ear.
“God, yeah.”
“That answer your question, Captain?” Her first Doctor breaks the kiss, turning to grin at them.
“Oh, you don’t want to know what I’m imagining right now,” Jack retorts, his grin even wider.
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shagged ourselves, would it?” the older Doctor comments, a sly smile on his lips as he strokes a hand slowly down his younger self’s torso.
“That’s a story I gotta hear.” Even Jack’s looking surprised, and she knows there’s not a lot that’s beyond his experience.
“Get pretty boy to tell you later. More important stuff to do right now.”
She’d be tempted to agree with Jack - this is a story she wants to hear - but intense blue eyes are gazing at her with a look of lust and need she always longed to see from him, but never dreamed she would.
“Rose.” Even his voice is deeper, sending shivers through her. “Can I...” He hesitates, then adds, “...dance with you?”
She hugs him tightly, pulling him closer to her. “Thought you’d never ask.”
***
He remembers only too well how badly he wanted to dance with Rose, how much effort it took to hold back that day in the Albion Hospital when she was flirting madly with him and using Jack to make him jealous. There were times he’d tell himself the only reason he rescued Jack was to have the Captain as a buffer, to prevent himself doing something he swore he wouldn’t ever do.
Now, though, he knows how foolish it was to hold back. He can’t take his eyes off his younger self’s face as he joins his body to Rose’s; the expression of awed ecstasy is, he’s sure, just how he looked when he made love to her for the first time.
“Hey. They’re not exactly paying us any attention. Wanna have some fun of our own?”
He leans over and kisses Jack, the man he stupidly left behind because he was too cowardly to learn to control his reaction to what Rose had made him. Took him far too long, too, to tell Rose what had really happened and to find Jack - a Jack fifty years older than the bloke he abandoned, yet who still loved the two of them despite everything. Fortunately. Very fortunately.
“You’ll get your turn,” he assures Jack; his friend - lover - wants this too, very badly, and he’ll make sure that Jack gets it. Dancing doesn’t have to be a minuet, or even a waltz, after all. The universe has invented lots of trio dances through the millennia, and even more for quartets. There’s not enough time to explore all of them, but enough for some.
Quartets it is then, as Rose uses her lips on Jack while his last self shags the Captain and he gets to shag Rose, and again later when Jack gets to see what he was imagining him and his last regeneration doing, much to his delight. There’s laughter and joy, even impatience as his earlier self tells him off for talking too much and finds novel ways of shutting him up, and above all there’s intimacy, love even, as they move together, as he and Rose and Jack focus on showing his younger self everything that’s too difficult to put into words.
Time’s running out as the four of them still at last, a tangle of limbs on the bed, and reluctantly he says so. “We need to leave. Your younger selves are gonna be back soon.”
“Yeah.” Rose leans over the edge of the bed, looking for her clothes.
Jack’s about to sit up, but a hand presses against his chest. “Jack. Whatever it is I’m gonna do to you, I’m sorry.”
Jack leans over and kisses the other Doctor. “It’s okay. See? We’re fine. No lasting damage.”
“Yes, there is,” the Doctor insists. “If I could change it, I would, yeah?”
“You can’t,” Jack tells him. “And even if you could... I don’t want you to. Everything happens for a reason, Doctor. And what you’re gonna do to me...” He grins. “That’s one of the reasons he brought us here today. Cause he felt he owed me a favour.”
Maybe that was part of it, yes. Maybe more of it was for himself - both of him. Because, even if he’ll never remember, for one absolutely brilliant afternoon his past self’s known beyond any doubt that he is loved.
***
The TARDIS is silent. They’ve gone, and he’s alone again.
Not for long, of course; his Jack and Rose will be back any minute, chattering excitedly and wanting to show off their purchases. And he’ll pretend to be bored and impatient, rolling his eyes and making sarcastic comments, while inside he’ll just be happy that they’re here and that they want to be with him.
He doesn’t have long with them. A few months at most, given that Rose looks barely a year older. At least he does something right, though: he keeps her with him, even if there are occasional shades of sadness in her eyes and she avoided answering when he thought he was being nice and asking how Jackie is. Jack, on the other hand... immortal, and though he doesn’t look a day older his eyes reveal more than Jack would realise. At least fifty additional human years there; what is it he’s going to do to the lad? And why doesn’t he put it right sooner?
But that’s the future, and he can’t know it. Just as he can’t remember any of this. Even if... even if it’s made him feel better than he’s felt in a very long time. Even if, for one fantastic afternoon, he felt less alien, less alone, less apart from the two humans who mean most to him.
It’s time to forget. Yet, just for a moment, he stills, standing with his palms resting against the console.
It gets better, his regenerated self told him just before they left, kissing him gently. Won’t ever be easy, and you’ll make mistakes and all three of you will suffer, but it is better.
Yes. And, if he lets himself admit it, things are pretty fantastic right now.
Smiling, he brings his fingers to his temples, preparing to wipe away the last four hours. But... no, not a simple wipe. There’s a better way.
Seconds later, his hands fall and he blinks, staring at the door that’s opening to reveal his companions and wondering where the time disappeared to.
***
“Thank you,” she says softly, reaching up to kiss the Doctor as soon as they’ve dematerialised.
“Yeah.” Jack leans in as soon as she pulls back. “Thanks. You have no idea what that meant to me.”
The Doctor smiles, hugging them both to him. “Oh, I think I do. And...” He frowns, then a very odd expression comes over his face for a moment before he grins. “And I know what it meant to me, too. That me.”
“You do?” Well, they’re the same person. Maybe they communicate telepathically or something?
“I remember. He left a trigger when he wiped his memory of what we did.” The Doctor kisses both of them again, deep and affectionate. “Thank you. Both of you. That... that time we spent together was a precious gift. You told me, Rose, so many times, that I wasn’t alone. That was the first time I really believed you. You and Jack.”
“You’ll never be alone, as long as you’ve got us.” And, even though he won’t have her for the forever she once promised him, he’ll still have Jack. That’s a comfort for her on the nights when she wakes up dreading the thought of growing old and frail while her two men stay young and healthy.
But that’s life, isn’t it? And one thing all three of them have taught each other is that the most important thing is now.
Today, they all gave each other a precious gift. It’s not only her first Doctor who sees it that way, and even if he won’t remember it she hopes he knows, really knows, that he’s loved. Still loved, even though he’s gone. And that her second Doctor knows he’s loved every bit as much.
“Right, then!” The Doctor’s released them and started dashing around the console. “Where we off to now?”
She exchanges a fond grin with Jack. That’s so him, both of him, never standing still for more than a moment, not even to savour the good times. But it’s just one of the many things she loves about him.
“Somewhere exciting,” she tells him, and that makes him wink at her.
“Do I ever take you anywhere else?”
“Never,” Jack says, and leans across to slap a button on the console, the one she now knows is the randomiser setting. He grins. “Allons-y?”
“Always,” the Doctor answers.
- end
Douceur: From the French, having multiple meanings including kindness, gentleness, clemency, well-being and pleasurable to the senses. Older meanings include reward and gift.