I'm not really sure how, but somehow I actually wrote (and completed) a full story before I posted any of it. I think I deserve some sort of metal. Although chocolate would be nice, too...
Anyway, this was meant to be a fluffy one shot then turned into a slightly angsty five shot. Hopefully I'll get a chapter up everyday over the next four days. Please enjoy!
Disclaimer:I woke up to a message on my phone this morning. "I'm sorry, ma'am," they said, "but you still do not own Doctor Who." I sighed, then got over it.
It was his idea to bring them to the States. She'd confessed to him she'd never been, but had been keen to go since she was little a while ago, but he'd been so distracted, it had slipped his mind. But, after they left Mickey, he felt, more than ever, that he owed it to her. She'd just wandered the corridors of the TARDIS for hours after he left and the Doctor was helpless to do anything but offer her tea and a shoulder to cry on in the library. It made him feel worse when she'd fallen asleep on him, clutching the lapels of his jacket like a child would do to a favourite blanket. She'd lost her best friend and boyfriend that day, and it had been all his fault. He couldn't possibly let her be miserable forever on his account.
That's why he set the coordinates before she woke up that morning, to surprise her. Feeling rather excited about the prospect of Rose getting to see America for the first time with him? It was enough to make a man crazy. Instead of dwelling on it for too long, he set off for the kitchen, the first place, he knew for a fact, she would go after getting up. She was nothing if not habitual. He put the kettle on and went about making banana waffles he'd only just mastered a few days before, stealing bits of banana as he worked.
He started feeling really anxious when she didn't arrive when he expected her to. The waffles were half finished and the tea had been ready for awhile by the time she shuffled in and plopped herself down in a chair. Her hair was thrown up into a messy, falling apart, bun, her pyjama pants hung low on her helps as if they were about to fall off, and her oversized sweatshirt dwarfed her. To top it off, her eyes were still a bit red and bleary from all the crying the night before. He offered her a pathetic smile before he slid a plate across the table with a steaming stack of waffles, a mug of tea, and got the whipped cream out just for her — although he dig spray a bit in his mouth before handing it over. She muttered a quiet "ta" and dug in, tearing off bits of her breakfast and popping them into her mouth.
He watched, transfixed for a minute before he refocused himself. "I have a surprise for you," he blurted, a grin stretching across his face once again.
Rose looked up, looking a bit shocked, mouth full. "Whot?" she asked around her food.
"A surprise! You're really gonna like this one, Rose. Oh, it's brilliant." He halted himself before he spilled more than he wanted to. The Doctor jumped back from where he was standing. "We'll be there by the time you're dressed and everything." He made to leave the room, but stopped just short, looking at her over his shoulder with a glint in his eyes. "You're gonna love it."
A little under an hour later, she walked into the console room looking a lot less haggard and a lot more excited. She had on her usual jeans and t-shirt and trainers, her make-up was sill thick, and she was still his Rose. There was even a smile on her face when she looked up at the Doctor and asked, "well, go on then, where are we?"
He practically puffed out his chest as he lead her down the ramp. "San Diego, California, America," he said proudly, throwing open the doors enthusiastically. They were suddenly hit with a rush of cold air, well below freezing, leafless trees surrounding them, it seemed. Rose scrambled back inside, rubbing her immediately cold arms. The Doctor frowned, poking his head out and looking around. A sky full of dark grey clouds held the promise of snow, as did the thick smell of it in the air.
Rose grabbed her navy coat she'd worn last Christmas from the rack off to the side and hurried to join him as he stepped out into the cold air. She zipped with one hand as the other shut the doors behind them. "I'm no geographer, but i'n't San Diego supposed 'ta be warm?" she asked, cheekily, her tongue poking out between her teeth.
He continued to frown as his eyes raked over the seemingly empty country road they'd been dropped next to. "Yeah," he replied, distantly, "it's near the Mexican boarder; usually warm."
"So then where did we land?"
"Definitely still in America, it's just a question of what state." He turned back to her and held out his hand with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Care to find out?"
She took it eagerly and allowed herself to be tugged up next to him. "I'd love to."
They followed the road, hand-in-hand for awhile, occasionally bumping shoulders as he told her all about his previous adventures in America, including a few times he accidentally saved one of their presidents' lives — some bloke called Taft — when he got stuck in a bathroom with an un-intimidating, albeit hostile, alien. "He told them he'd gotten stuck in the bathtub," the Doctor explained, sending Rose into a fit of giggles.
"A bathtub! Really?" she exclaimed through her laughter.
He was about to launch into another story when he felt something cold and wet hit his nose. He looked up to see a swirl of similar white specks falling all around them. He let out a laugh of his own, dropping Rose's hand to hold out his arms. "Snow, Rose! Real, honest snow!"
She let out a gleeful cry, turning with her arms in a similar position of his own. On impulse, she stuck out her tongue, determined to catch as many as she could. The Doctor looked on, beaming at her. She looked over at him for a moment before flinging herself into his arms. He grunted on impact, but held her close, all the same. He could smell her shampoo and her soap and that hint of hormones that just made her scent uniquely Rose. He swore he could get drunk off it, if he lingered too long.
Lucky for him — or unlucky, as the case may be — she let go first and bounced off to play in the falling snow. He grinned like an idiot, because he was, really. Just a big, dumb, brilliant idiot.
The thrill of snow still thrummed through her body as they continued on down the road, although she could feel the cold starting to creep through her clothes and start to seep into her bones. She hugged herself tightly, wishing she'd thought to grab a warmer coat when she left the TARDIS. The Doctor shrugged off his long coat and hung it on her shoulders without a word, then pulled her close to his body, an arm around her shoulders. She couldn't help but shift towards her only external heat source. It was the kind of cold that made a person glad to live far away from that place. As she stumbled along side the Doctor, Rose decided that if they ever made it back to the TARDIS, she wouldn't leave the arboretum for at least a week — the old girl kept it at a tropical constant of 28 degrees just for her.
It was another two hours and another five inches of snow before they even heard a car approach. Rose was decidedly freezing, practically being carried by the Doctor. She'd lost coherency miles back, as well as feeling in her extremities, despite his efforts to keep her body temperature up. If he was honest, he wasn't so sure she could handle being outside any longer. The car was coming from behind them, going the same way they were headed, and on the wrong side of the road, as far as she was concerned. Nevertheless, he stopped and waved manically for the car to stop.
When the dated Jeep-something-or-other pulled over and the driver got out, the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. It was a boy, probably no older than seventeen or eighteen, in a black fleece jacket, jeans, and work boots, his brown wavy hair falling over his forehead. His cheeks were slightly pink from the sudden change in temperature, no doubt, but he looked otherwise normal. "Are you two okay?" he asked. Rose almost started by the accent; she was in America, but she was definitely not expecting him to sound any different than she did. It reminded her vaguely of Jack. She felt a twinge in her heart at the thought.
"Rose here is going into hypothermic shock, actually," the Doctor answered, rather tersely, pulling her even closer, if possible.
The boy frowned. "Where are you guys headed?"
"Not sure, just trying to get our bearings. We got a bit turned around back there."
"Well, here, why don't I give you a lift? I'm sure… Rose, did you say? Could use the heat in the car." He gestured over his shoulder.
"That would be wonderful," he managed, but it was spit out as if his words were a poison.
With no small amount of help from the Doctor, Rose managed to climb into the back seat of the Jeep, behind the driver's seat — also on the wrong side, if you asked her — with the Doctor next to her. Neither bothered with seatbelts as he tucked her up close to him, her face instinctively seeking the heat of his chest. The boy sped off down the road, occasionally glancing at them in the rear-view mirror. Eventually, he spoke. "My name's Brendan, by the way," he said.
"Nice to meet you, Brandon," the Doctor replied, albeit a little more than tensely. Rose's lips were blue and he was scared out of his mind. He felt her squeeze his arm and looked down; she gave her best smile and he relaxed a little. At least she was aware of her surroundings. "This is going to sound daft, but could you tell us where we are?"
"You're near Deep River," he answered, then hesitated. "In Connecticut," he explained at the Doctor's blank expression.
"Right, Connecticut!" he said. "Lovely little state, Rose. First state to have its own constitution, makes a lot of nutmeg. Goldfish crackers are made here! You know, those little fish that taste like cheese that you love so much? The shore is lovely too. Mind, not quite as nice as California's, but Long Island Sound is a decent body of water. A bit dirty in the past few decades, but that'll all turn itself around soon enough. What else… Oh! They have casinos here too, Rose! The Pequots have Foxwoods and the Mohegans have Mohegan Sun. A bit too fogged over with smoke for my liking, but I suppose it's a casino and you can't really expect anything else. We can go, though, if ya like. Katherine Hepburn lived here too! Little town called Old Saybrook, I believe. Her house is breathtaking! And speaking of houses, Mark Twain has a house in Hartford. Designed it himself. Brilliant man, Sam. That was his real name. Story goes that he wrote under Mark Twain as a hat tip to his former life on the Mississippi River."
She gave him another weak smile, but it was one that broke his heart. He pulled her impossibly closer and looked at Brendan's reflection pleadingly. With his attention back to Rose, he prattled on just to keep her focused, but he knew she was fading fast. "Is there any way you can drive a little faster!" he practically shouted as her eyes began to droop.
"Almost there," he assured.
What seemed like a lifetime later, Brendan pulled into a snow covered drive and shut off the engine. They had arrived at an older-looking farm house the Doctor hardly noticed as he rushed to get Rose from the car to the house. Brendan ran ahead to unlock the door and point him in the direction of the sofa, shouting an awkward greeting to his mother. They divided and conquered as the Doctor settled her on the sofa, carefully removing her trainers to warm her toes properly, and Brendan to get as many blankets as possible. A taller, dark haired woman burst into the sitting room where the two travellers were situated, looking rather confused, but sympathetic. She took one glance at the girl on her sofa and disappeared into an joining room, only to reappear around a minute later with a bucket of water and a mug of a beverage he couldn't quite make out. Brendan came back soon after and helped him wrap Rose up and put her feet in the bucket.
"What are your names?" the woman asked, once the madness had died down a little. Rose was resting against the Doctor, sitting up with at least four blankets around her and her feet in the bucket of warm water. The beverage had been hot cocoa, but Brendan had absconded with it after it sat untouched for a few minutes.
"I'm the Doctor, this is Rose."
Instead of questioning his name like he was used to, the woman just nodded. "I'm Angela. Where were you two headed?"
"California, if you can believe it."
She smiled, resting a hand over her chest. "Two Brits trying to get to California through Connecticut? Sounds like a soapopera." She shook her head. "I'm glad Brendan picked you up when he did. She may not have lasted more than a few hours out there."
"I'm really grateful that he did." And he was. He would have never forgiven himself if Rose had been any worse off.
They sat in silence for what seemed like a lifetime, he beginning to see the slow yet steady progress Rose was making; her cheeks were beginning to get colour back, her fingers had lost the ugly purple, and her breathing was getting much better. He let out a breath of relief, letting his cheek fall against the top of her head. The woman just watched. "Is there anything I can get you?"
"Tea would be lovely, if you have any."