Disclaimer: Doctor Who is the BBC's property, and no infringement is intended.
Thank you, as always, to Sonic Jules for support and encouragement!
Author's Note: This is set mid-season 2, because I think a lot of us need a bit of Ten/Rose fluff after the events of "Journey's End."
Running for your life, Rose mused, wasn't so bad when the pursuers were squid-like creatures that set a pace easily outdone by a casual jog. She and the Doctor had put at least fifty meters between themselves and the plodding cephalopods, and the TARDIS was only another kilometer or so away.
"Think we're gonna make it without any trouble," she said, barely even panting.
"Yep. They're not very fast on land. Now, if we were in the water, it'd be a different matter entirely," the Time Lord replied. He wasn't even close to panting; he sounded as though he were simply out for a leisurely stroll.
"Good thing we're on dry land, then," she agreed.
Immediately Rose wished she'd hadn't expressed that though. Why was it that the moment she said something, the opposite seemed to happen? Must be some sort of Cosmic Payback-thingy; she'd have to ask the Doctor about it some time. But not now, because at the moment she had more pressing problems; they both did.
As if in direct refutation of her words, water had begun oozing up from the dry ground. Her shoes made squishing noises as they plopped over the earth.
"Um, Doctor," she questioned, "what's goin' on with that?" She pointed at the increasingly soggy soil.
"Oops. Must be high tide," he answered. "Water'll be up to our hips in about three minutes, and then we'll have to try to out-swim them. How's your backstroke?"
"Not that good."
His eyes were already scanning the area. "Mine either."
He reached for her hand and issued the familiar command. "Run!"
They sprinted, steps slowed considerably by the large puddles and slippery mud. They slogged toward a tall tree about twenty meters away. The cephalopods were skimming along through the muck, their speed increasing considerably. They were gaining distance very fast.
"What happens if they catch us?" Rose asked breathlessly.
"See those short tentacles beneath their mouths?" he asked.
She glanced back. "Yeah."
"Full of electricity. We'll get a very nasty shock."
"How nasty?"
"Nasty enough to stop your heart."
"An' yours?"
"Probably only one, but still, that doesn't feel very good."
They had reached the base of the tree. "Can they climb?" Rose asked.
"Nope. But luckily, we can!"
He grabbed her hips and gave her a boost so that she could grasp the lowest limb. She scrabbled up, using her feet against the trunk for purchase. Her hands scraped against the rough bark, but she managed to keep her grip and get her legs up onto the branch. The Doctor, nimble as a monkey, clambered up with little effort, lanky legs swinging from the limb in a matter of seconds.
"Better get up higher," he advised. "Their tentacles can stretch."
They climbed up toward the top of the tree. Rose forgot how difficult it was to negotiate twigs and leaves. Still, within a minute or two she and the Doctor were perched on a high branch, looking down at the angry squid-like creatures whose tentacles extended up along the trunk, sparking as they touched the bark.
"Can they electrocute us?" she asked, a wisp of fear coiling in her belly.
"Nope. Wood's a really poor conductor of electricity. We're safe up here."
"How high's the water gonna rise?"
"Oh, only about a meter. I think once they realize we're not coming down they'll leave. This is about the time they swim back out to sea, anyway. The krill'll be coming in soon, and these fellows never like to miss a good meal."
"So we wait."
"Yep."
So wait they did. The Doctor told her several interesting facts about the creatures' anatomy and physiology, and then he regaled her with stories of the planet's history. In the distant future, the cephalopods would develop much greater intelligence and evolve into a fairly sophisticated species that would build beautiful cities and be known throughout the galaxies for their musical and artistic talents.
By the time he'd finished reciting one of their more famous ballads, the water had begun to recede, and the creatures had given up their pursuit of the interlopers. Rose and the Doctor watched until they'd glided through the shallow water and slipped out into the sea.
"Right, I think it's safe to get down now," he said, already hopping lithely to a lower branch. He looked up at her. "Need any help?"
"Nope, 'm fine," she replied.
She watched as he shimmied down another few branches, then Rose swung her legs out in preparation for dropping to the limb upon which he'd recently stood. For just a second she hesitated; it was a very long way to the ground. But that branch was only a meter or so away, and it lay right beneath her, and all she had to do was drop straight down…
Rose pushed off with her hands and tensed her legs as the branch rose up to meet her. She felt her heels hit the solid wood, but somehow her shoes slipped (must be that bloody mud, she thought vaguely), and in an instant she slid forward. Before she realized what was happening, her body was plummeting.
She gave a gasp of surprise and instinctively reached out her hands, trying to grip a branch, but her fingers simply brushed over the bark. Wind rushed past her, and her hair blew over her eyes. She was falling blindly, past the leaves, past the branches, past the Doctor—
Abruptly she stopped, and it took her a moment to realize that something had caught her wrist and that she was dangling, feet swaying ineffectually as she attempted to find the solidity of the trunk.
"Got you," the Doctor said.
She looked up, hair falling away from her eyes. His gaze upon her was intent, and the expression on his face was odd—almost pained. At first she thought he'd somehow hurt himself as he reached out to stop her rapid descent. But then he was pulling her up, moving easily as he helped her to clamber up onto the sturdy branch where he'd instantly stretched out to keep himself from falling when he caught her wrist.
Within a minute or so both sat upon the branch, and then his arms wrapped around her and he enveloped her in a brief yet very tight, relieved hug. And Rose understood that his pained look stemmed from fear, not physical hurt.
When he released her, he asked, "You all right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, think so. Sorry. I dunno what happened—"
"Looked like your foot slipped," he replied quickly.
"Thanks for catching me." She smiled gratefully.
"Any time." His smile seemed a bit tight. "Ready to get back on solid ground now?"
"Yeah, absolutely."
He went first, helping her down solicitously even though the branches were thicker and closer together and she really didn't require any assistance. Still, she permitted his actions without complaint, regretting that she'd caused him even a moment's worry.
As her feet touched the soggy earth once more, she took a moment to rub at her wrist. It was sore where he'd grabbed her.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
"No, 'm fine," she replied with a warm smile. She truly was grateful to him for his quick catch, and she had no desire to cause him even a second's worth of anxiety.
They walked through the slushy mud. He was uncharacteristically quiet, commenting only occasionally on the plants and color of the sea. She noticed that he glanced at her repeatedly, and each time his expression seemed to soften a little more. She really had frightened him, and she regretted that immensely.
By the time they stepped inside the TARDIS, he seemed fully himself. His mouth curved into a grin as he closed the door and strode toward the console. She followed him up the ramp, automatically rubbing her hand against her jeans. She winced. Rose lifted her wrist to find several splinters embedded in her index and finger and thumb. She recalled how rough the bark had felt.
The Doctor twisted a few dials and punched at several buttons. "Hmm, she's a little sluggish. Maybe she doesn't like the sludge; could clog up the vents a bit, I suppose."
He dropped to his knees and opened a panel beneath the console. Rose sat down in the captain's chair, wiping her fingers against her jeans again, but of course the offending little shards remained just as they were. Well, they'd work their way out eventually, or else she'd find a pair of tweezers and remove them. But that could wait; the Doctor was asking her to hand him a spanner, and she was happy to help him.
To be concluded…