This is my first time writing a Doctor Who story, so please be gentle. I've taken liberties with storylines and characters and changed things a bit, but I hope it still somewhat able to function in the time between seasons 2-4. I'm rating it T due to violent situations, but it might be changed to M later on when things develop a little bit more. This story does not go in chronological order, but there is some order to it that will hopefully show up in time. It's going to be kind of all over the place, but the aim is to take a closer look at the relationship between the Doctor and Rose. Since there is no real order to the chapters, I'm naming each entry after the song that inspired that piece of writing. Feedback is always appreciated! -R


If you could only see the beast you've made of me. I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free. Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart. Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart. My fingers claw your skin; try to tear my way in. You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl. My fingers claw your skin; try to tear my way in. You are in the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl. Howl. – Florence and the Machine, Howl


"It's bloody hot here!" Rose swiped at the damp hair suffocating the nape of her neck, darkened strands clinging to her forehead.

"Two suns," amusement danced across his features as he regarded her, his own skin dry. "Do you want to go back?" She shot him a dirty look and he bit back a grin. "No? You look a little flustered."

"You promised me we'd see the wedding," she panted as the arid ground beneath them developed a slight incline, the red sand slipping beneath her feet. The Doctor took her clammy hand in his own and their progression sped up a bit as he pulled her forward.

"You're going to love it!" He glanced back at her, an unruly stock of hair shielding his eyes. "The royal family will have spared no expense for the princess!"

"And they'll be drinks, yeah? And air conditioning? A fan maybe?"

The ground plateaued and when he released her hand she dragged her fingers across her eyes to cleanse away the sweat. The denim of her shorts clung to her uncomfortably and she shuddered to imagine the state of the cloth beneath her underarms. She tugged at the stubborn material sticking to her chest and attempted desperately to waft some air through her shirt. The Doctor's gaze softened as he watched her.

"Come on," he took her hand again, seemingly unperturbed by the stickiness of her palm, and began to lead her toward a row of tents. "We'll make a stop before we arrive at the ceremony."

A sizable crowd was gathered around the tents, which formed an apparent makeshift market, and as she followed the Doctor's confident lead, Rose took in their elaborate appearance: most wore long robes, rich in earth tones with fine embroidered designs in gold and scarlet. Almost all wore head coverings so that only the skin of their hands and around their eyes could be seen, brilliant shades of sapphire and amethyst embellished with ornate patterns of tattoos. At first Rose had believed the veils to be religious in nature, but now she recognized the pragmatism of them in the acrid swirl of heat and sand.

She watched in fascination as a young boy with deep green flesh and a tuft of black hair bit into a fruit, yellow juice dripping down his chin and onto his tawny robe.

"Oh!" Rose startled and whipped around as she bumped into someone. The women's shockingly violet eyes were even with hers and Rose inhaled sharply. "Sorry," she murmured, unable to tear her gaze away. The air felt suddenly as if it were crackling with electricity. Then the Doctor was pulling her through the horde, too focused to notice the stumbling of his partner. Rose skipped a little to keep pace with his long legs.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the surrounding tents, seeking something specific that he couldn't locate.

"The people here…"

"The Gamanchet."

"Right, what's their story?"

"They're a nomadic race, been wandering this planet for a millennia, seeking a fabled crystal that contains unbounded riches."

"What, you mean like gold and rubies?" He met her gaze.

"Here the most precious resource is water." He suddenly seemed to locate what he was searching for and they were off, Rose clinging to his hand as they weaved in and out of bodies.

"Are there bad Gamanchet?"

"Bad? Bad is subjective I suppose," he threw a look in her direction. "There are those who travel on the outskirts of the tribe, who don't always agree with the path the princess chooses or who decide to locate the crystal on their own, but the Gamanchet are a peaceful race for the most part."

"It's just, there was a woman back there…"

"Yes?" He stopped so suddenly that she collided with his chest. Hands on her shoulders steadied her and he gave her his full attention. "What about her?"

"I dunno. She gave me this feeling like…" his eyes bore into hers and she paused for a moment thrilled and terrified that he listened to her like this, that he humored her theories and intuition. That more than humoring them, he took her seriously and believed in her.

"It felt like she was looking into me, not at me," she continued. "Like when we bumped into each other she saw my soul." One side of her mouth turned up. "Stupid, I know."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "The Gamanchet believe that certain members of their species are born with what they call 'The Sight.'"

"The Sight?"

"Yes. These individuals are thought to have the ability to bear witness to elements of life that average citizens cannot. No two with The Sight are said to have the same gift, but similar tendencies to be able to, say, sense the direction of the crystal or a new source of water or even catch glimpses of the future."

"Is it true?" Rose breathed.

"I'm not sure. Why? Would you like to have your palm read?" They smiled at each other until he glanced up at the suns. "We need to hurry if you want to see the vows."

Rose sighed but let herself be dragged away by him. "Where are we going then?"

"To get you new clothes. You need a robe."

"A robe?" She tugged at his fingers. "I'm already dripping in shorts and a vest. If I put more material on you're going to be carrying me back to the TARDIS."

His eyes sparkled. "It's not the amount of covering, it's the material. You need something that will breathe, let the air in but keep the sand out. Here we are!" He stopped in front of a tent that looked suspiciously like every other tent he had so easily hurried past, and grinned at the merchant. "Hello! We're looking for a frock for my friend here. Something to keep her cool."

The man turned his eyes to Rose and she shifted uncomfortably as she suddenly became aware of her disheveled hair and the way her saturated clothes embraced her form. The merchant motioned with his head but said nothing and the Doctor smiled at her expectantly. She tightened her grip on him and walked to the back of the tent, and, sensing her apprehension, he followed, rubbing his thumb in slow circles on the back of her hand.

Under the cover of the tent and hidden from the wrath of the suns, the little shop was much cooler than Rose had anticipated and she felt herself immediately relaxing. The merchant approached carrying a small parcel in his arms. He handed the package to Rose and motioned toward an enclosed area to change.

The Doctor put a hand on the small of her back and winked at her. "I'll wait out here for you." She could hear him chatting enthusiastically with the man as she slipped into the sequestered area and began to undress. She chuckled quietly as the familiar lilt of his voice floated consistently through the tent with only half-hearted grunts from the merchant interrupting his ramble.

The robe was simple: crème colored, almost white, with an embellished weaving of fabric and a gentle pattern of red and blue flowers at the hem and sleeves. Rose gratefully striped herself of the sodden ensemble she had been wearing and for a moment stood naked and free. She dipped a towel into a bowl of cool water that sat on a nearby table and held the dripping cloth at her neck, closing her eyes as the water cascaded down the valley of her breasts, the slope of her stomach, and the aching muscles of her calves. She sighed and repeated the gesture at the nape of her neck, feeling the sweat and grime wash away and pool in the dirt by her bare feet.

Her eyes opened as the Doctor's voice flitted back into her consciousness, and she began to scrub herself in earnest, paying particular attention to the areas beneath her arms, under her breasts, and between her legs. Her dewy skin quickly dried and, feeling satisfied, she slipped into the robe, tying the sash at her waist and leaving the hood at her back as she raked her fingers through her hair. The fabric of the tunic felt cool and smooth against her bare skin and she decided to leave her bra off, disposing of it along with her shirt, shorts, and trainers into a barrel, happy to never see the lot again. She slipped into a pair of gladiator sandals the merchant had provided and drew back the curtain, feeling infinitely better than she had been fifteen minutes before.

The Doctor was still chatting with the merchant, following the man at his heels as he stocked some selves with jars of what looked like honey. He froze midsentence when he saw her and stared, mouth agape.

"You look beautiful," he exclaimed. "Much better than that soggy mess you were when we came in!"

Rose rolled her eyes and laughed. "Thanks you git. Now c'mon, we've got a wedding to attend."


The suns were beginning to set when they arrived at the ceremony, one just barely a glimmer of light and the other kissing the edge of the horizon. The area was adorned with large white canvases embellished with brilliant flowers that filled the air with a fresh scent. Lanterns hung suspended in the air by some mysterious force, flickering with candle light against the threatening dusk. Uproarious chatter built to a steady roar as the crowd of onlookers shifted and jostled each other, laughing and shouting to be heard.

Rose was enthralled by the scents and sounds, the vibrations of the music and voices trembling the ground so that the quiver tickled the soles of her feet, swam through her veins and left her head buzzing. The wind was picking up, causing her dress to whisper against her skin, the large hood alternating between protecting her from view and revealing the majesty before her. Were it not for the firm anchor of the Doctor's warm hand in her own, Rose was certain she would float away like one of those lanterns, slipping through the air and into the clouds.

"Come on," the Doctor pulled her away from the glowing alter and she dug in her heels, brushing shoulders with numerous bodies as he pulled her against the flow of traffic.

"We're going the wrong way," she hissed. "They're going to be standing over there. I want to see!"

Still, she let herself be moved by him, a pout overcoming her features as they relocated further away.

"Here," he stopped and looked at her sullen expression, brushing a knuckle across her cheek so quickly she may have imagined it. "Look now."

She shifted to follow his gaze and her eyes widened as she took in the sight from their slightly elevated position. The view, previously obstructed by the taller bodies of the Gamanchet citizens, was now clear. She turned to him and grinned, tongue peeking from between her teeth, and he smiled back, pleased at her obvious delight.

A sudden hush descended on the crowd and Rose whirled to see what had signaled the change.

"Wha-" She stopped as the graceful whisper of harps reached her ears. Holding her breath, she watched as a shirtless man, his teal chest gleaming, approached the center of the alter from the right just as a woman walked in from the left. She wore a light blue robe with a loose sash tied at the waist. The material hung from her shoulders exposing her amber breasts and stomach. Her hair was braided away from her face, emphasizing the delicate twist of tattoos that sprinkled her forehead and around her eyes. Both were barefoot. As they advanced toward the center of the alter, their eyes locked as if an invisible tether held them together. When they reached the middle, they stood inches apart, palms up and touching, their gaze never wavering. The suns were nearly gone by now, the glow of the floating orbs casting a spell over the crowd. The bride and groom spoke not a word, but their eyes never left each other's, their palms and pads of their fingers brushing. They stood like this for a long time, in complete silence.

Rose could scarcely breathe.

Finally, in complete unity, their fingers shifted and bent, slowly, tenderly so that they were holding hands. Never did their eye contact waver. Lowering their arms, they released one hand each and turned toward the crowd, radiant smiles on their faces. The crowd erupted in cheers and flower petals showered from somewhere above.

The Doctor raised their own intertwined fingers and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Rose was unable to tear her eyes from the newly-wed couple. She realized dimly that she was crying. The crowed began to shift and move as one unit toward another tent and Rose's trance was broken. She looked up at the Doctor in wonder.

"That was beautiful."

His smile shone in his eyes. "Let's go to the party."


Although the suns had long since retired and a breeze blew steadily, the area under the tent remained humid. The music thrumming around her was sultry and powerful, and Rose let her body sway to the beat, her skin grazing against the slick bodies of those around her. Her hood was off and she tilted her head back, looking up at the roof of the tent, the material so subtle that the night sky shone through. She ran her hands through her hair, down her neck, and over her curves, feeling warm and intoxicated and sensual.

When she lowered her eyes from the stars the Doctor was standing before her, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Hello," she said and laughed although she had no idea why. Her body was still moving, and she wasn't sure it could stop as long as the music continued with that low, rough rhythm.

"Hello." He smiled back, but it was different from his normal gleeful expression. He appeared much more subdued, his lanky body still and his face serious, yet his eyes held something, something different, something she had caught glimpses of before but never in such intensity. She studied him from behind heavily lidded eyes, his image blurry yet sharper than ever.

He held out a glass of ice water and she licked her lips. "I just had another drink."

He tilted his head and looked amused. "That wasn't water."

"No," her body stilled and she placed a shaky hand on his chest, leaning in to whisper, "I think it was alcohol. I think I might be drunk."

There was no mistaking the laughter that sparkled in his eyes now. "I think you may be right." She took the glass from him and gulped it down quickly. Dipping her fingers into the container, she claimed an ice cube and backed away from him, her body once again in time with the music. She ran the ice cube across her lips and down her neck, eyes shuttering and mouth falling open at the painful pleasure of the chill against her overheated body.

The Doctor's hands were by his side but his eyes were on her and even though she couldn't see them, she could feel them, scorching her skin, blazing a trail that followed the path of the water. She felt that thrill again, the bliss mingled with terror, and suddenly it was raining, big, fat drops pouring through the roof. The people around her howled in glee, sounding primal and alive. There was a stampede to leave the tent and she let herself be carried by the mass of bodies until she was in the open field, dripping and howling with everyone else. She opened her mouth to the cascade and drank deeply, spinning around with her arms outstretched, feeling the precipitation soak through her robe and plaster her hair to her face.

A figure entered her vision with every turn and Rose stopped, mid-laugh and approached the woman. "Are you the one who found it?" She panted. "The crystal?"

The woman's violet eyes were stern and she grabbed Rose's wrist and stepped close so that Rose instinctively stumbled back, but the vice grip on her arm disallowed any opportunity for space.

"Brace yourself," the woman hissed and pressed something firmly into Rose's hand. It was a dead flower, withered and void of any color, the petals crumbling in her palm. Rose pulled her hand back but the woman's compulsion was insistent, forcing Rose's fingers around the plant. "Brace yourself," she repeated and Rose cried out as a thorn sliced her finger.

"Rose!" The voice was muffled but close and she turned to locate him. He caught sight of her and broke into a jog, rivers of rain dripping down his cheeks from his hair. Rose turned back to the woman, but she was gone.

"I lost you back there!" He stepped close to her, his sneakers squishing the disintegrating flower into the mud. He bent close to her face so that his breath stirred against her cheek. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she shook her head. "It's just…" she held up her finger to show the smear of red. He reached into his pocket and pressed a handkerchief around the tiny wound. He wiggled his fingers at her and she slipped her good hand into his. They were off then, running and skipping and laughing uproariously at the rain and the strange planet and the joy of being together. She stomped in a big puddle and he wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning around until she shrieked.

The TARDIS was right where they had left it and they scrambled toward it, stumbling and falling in the slick clay, rising covered in the rusty sludge. They reached the door out of breath and still giggling. The Doctor put his hand on her cheek, his attempt to wipe away the dirt resulting in a larger smear. She leaned into his touch and beamed at him and his hand lingered just for a moment. Then, they were inside, stamping their feet and shaking their hair like dogs. Their whoops and squeals filled the ship until they were forced to gulp for air, leaning against each other.

He regained control first, straightening and looking around at the quiet glow of the TARDIS. He watched with serious eyes as she brushed the hair off her forehead and let loose a few lingering giggles. She looked up at him with a smile and he returned it.

"We better get going," he said.

"Yeah," she looked down at herself. "Yeah. What a mess I was tonight, sorry."

"You were magnificent." She bit her lip and he tucked a stubborn strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She watched him from behind her lashes and when his thumb traced her jaw she shivered dramatically. He pulled away.

"You should go shower and get changed into dry clothes. I'll make us some tea."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." She began to walk away and turned back. "On to the next adventure?"

He beamed.