Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" is of course the BBC's property. I'm simply borrowing…
Author's note: I'd like to leave a special thank you to Sonic Jules for inspiring this story, as well as for support and beta assistance.
Rose lounged on the jump seat flipping through a tattered atlas. Well, perhaps 'atlas' wasn't the precise word for the large book in her lap, but it was the closest one she could find. The collection of star charts, unfamiliar symbols, and faded yet still colorful photographs of various planets seemed rather like an intergalactic atlas to her.
The Doctor had been down beneath the grating for over an hour, repairing a temporal-spatial circuit. Three or four times he'd asked her for a tool or instrument, and as she'd rummaged under the console for the laser wrench she'd noticed the book. Now she entertained herself by studying the fascinating photos as he clinked and buzzed about below.
She was staring at a particularly stunning picture when he shimmied out of the pit and stationed himself before the console. She was only vaguely aware of his actions as he tapped at a few keys and studied several read-outs.
"Good as new!" he proclaimed. "Well, I say new. I really mean that it's all sorted now. I'm not sure that particular part was ever really new; I've had it for ages and ages…"
"Hhn," Rose acknowledged disinterestedly.
"What do you have there?" he asked, turning to look at the young woman whose entire posture had become studious and intently focused.
"Atlas," she replied rather absently. Her finger moved to trace the photo before her. "Here," she said dreamily. "Can we go here?"
He plucked the book from her hands, and she blinked at him in surprise.
"Hey! I was lookin' at that," she protested.
Balancing the open book in one hand, he reached for his glasses with the other. "Well, I can't very well see where you want to go with you drooling all over it like that."
"I wasn't drooling," she said with a small frown, wiping a hand across her mouth just in case.
He was looking down at the photo, brows knitting together. "Oh. Yquee-Mun 7. Nope, don't think so."
"What?"
"I said I don't think so. It wouldn't be a very good idea to go there."
Rose's mouth drooped in disappointment. "But it's so pretty! That sky, and those buildings, all twisty an' graceful—"
He nodded. "It's gorgeous, like nothing else you'll ever see."
"But lemme guess, it's dangerous, right? There's some weird creature lurking in the treetops, or some law against blondes an' I'll be tossed into a pit with a monster."
"No, nothing like that."
"Then what's the problem?"
"They're just a bit… racist."
"Racist? So they do have somethin' against blondes—"
"Nope. More likely brunettes," he tugged at his ear, "though I suppose hair color doesn't really matter to them."
"You're not makin' any sense," she chided gently.
He sighed and handed the book back to her. "Their people never much liked my people."
"When was this?"
"Oh, ages—eons—ago. Back when my people oversaw the laws of time and space. There was this little disagreement over the use of a temporal accelerator that the Yquee-Muns were developing. At that time, those kinds of devices weren't permitted by any but the Time Lords, so we had to step in, delete the technology—"
"Delete the technology? What's that mean?"
"Bit of memory mumbo-jumbo among the scientists… nothing to cause permanent harm, just enough to prevent them from recreating the device."
"Weren't too happy about that, were they?"
"No, not at all. And since then, my people were less than welcome there."
"But you said it was ages—eons—ago. They can't still be mad after all this time."
He shrugged. "Who knows? I've never been back… none of my people ever were after that incident with the acid-mud mobs."
Rose lifted an eyebrow quizzically, but he simply shook his head. Reluctantly, she set the book aside.
They'd been back from the parallel universe just a little while. He'd tried to be extra cheerful to buoy Rose's spirits, but he knew that she missed Mickey. She put up a good front, smiling a bit too broadly, laughing a little too loudly, and adding a spring to her step. But he could see the traces of dark circles beneath her eyes, and the rosy glow had faded from her skin.
He knew that she'd rally in time, but the Doctor hated seeing Rose morose. He took her to the seashore on Mermarra for a ride in the giant seahorse-driven boats, but the grin she plastered across her face told him that it was for his benefit alone. He offered her pastries from Pluverius, but she simply picked at the delicate layers of dough. He showed her the flower fields of Phigarous, and her eyes filled with tears. How was he to know that once Mickey had given her flowers resembling those lilies that covered the leas?
One day the atlas slid from beneath the console during a slightly rough landing. The pages flopped open, and Rose bent to retrieve the book. When she held it out to him, she was smiling—a genuine, joyful smile.
He grinned in response, until he saw the page that had enthralled her. Of course it was Yquee-Mun 7.
"Rose," he said softly, reaching for the book.
She looked up, and her smile faded. "Sorry," she muttered.
"No," he said, "don't be. It's a spectacular place. The pictures would captivate anyone, and the actual planet—well, it's almost beyond words."
"That's sayin' somethin', comin' from you."
He studied the photos for a few moments then glanced back at her face; she'd quickly become glum again. "You know," he said rather slowly, "it really has been a long time since I was there. And if we landed well into the future—but not so far that the architecture would've changed—I'm sure no one would have any memory of the Time Lords."
"You sure it wouldn't be dangerous?"
"Not in the least." He smiled at her then added, "Well, it might not be a bad idea to park the TARDIS somewhere unobtrusive, and I'd prefer it if you didn't mention the words 'Time Lord' to anyone. But I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Really?" Her face lit up, and her cheeks glowed pink with excitement.
"Absolutely."
He spun back to the console and began the sequence. His hand shook just a little as he tapped at keys and twisted the dials, but he made sure that Rose didn't see. It wasn't that he was scared per se; it was just that his people had always had an aversion to the Yquee-Muns. He likened it to most humans' distaste for insects as a part of their diet. The small critters were actually a wonderful source of nutrition, but the majority of humans, particularly those from Western cultures, would cringe at the thought of ingesting one. Well, he'd make Yquee-Mun 7 his own personal grub and gobble it up without so much as a burp. It was the least he could do for Rose.
