All credit goes to BBC and all those lovely people who bring this show to life. Thank you.
Things of Value: Chapter 1
Impulse. That's what makes us who we are. The things we do without even giving it any thought; the little things. Holdings doors and hands, crying while reading a book, going to help someone-
-running to save someone. This is us, the real core of our being. This is the purest form of our personalities.
My first impulse upon seeing the TARDIS for the first time was to run inside, to throw myself through those blue doors and into a new world without chips and jobs and worries. My gut told me to swing myself along those bars and hop up to the console, to test the frightening array of buttons. But it took me a moment to trust my gut.
No, impulse keeps me alive. They tell me to duck, jump, twist, run at all the right times. It's a survival instinct, I suppose. I can watch the Doctor and see the same; his survival instinct is ridiculous, with all his running and such.
The most important impulse since I stepped into the bigger-on-the-inside time machine is to stay with the Doctor. Do not lose the Doctor, in any way. That's my mission now.
Well, I think, I'm losing him now, running as fast as ever in an effort to catch up to the streak of pinstripe suit that shoots away from me and around another corner. I run my fingers along the length of the wall as I round the corner at full speed, my fingers bouncing along the rough rock texture of it. My pulse is rushing, adrenaline burning through me and powering my heart to keep up this ridiculously rushed pace. I laugh with each stride, pumping my arms to run faster.
The Doctor turns for a fraction of a second at the sound and flashes me a wide grin, still running. His converse scrape with each step on the rocky floor. Before I know it, a big blue box appears at a turn, and we crash through the doors. Soon, the doors rattle with the pounding of some angry alien species on the outside. We were fast enough to outrun them.
I jog up the stairs to the console and slide down to sit cross legged on the grated floor, "Gotta love the running," I whisper with a smile, still out of breath.
"Oh, yes," The Doctor locks the door before turning to face me. He strides up the ramp from the door, letting a hand trace the length of the handrail. He stands in front of me, a tall stoic statue, with his hands on his hips.
I slouch against the console, tired from the race, "We beat them by quite a bit, didn't we?" I kick his converse with a booted foot, chuckling at the thought.
"Oi!" He exclaims, pushing my foot with his, "You have to be fair - they were probably wearing ten additional pounds of leather in their uniforms, plus," He pauses, with a twinkle in his eye, "they aren't as fit as we are."
I laugh loudly, "I'll say! All this running and soon I could go home and be a professional runner."
He winces at the word home, but his brilliant smile is back in an instant. "Sure could!" He clicks his tongue the way he always does, and with a wink, jumps into action, pulling levers and spinning dials and pounding on buttons as he goes.
"Where to now, Cap-tain Rose Tyler?" he says, breaking the 'captain' in two and giving my name some extra Northern accent. He begins to throw a lever up and down repeatedly, while simultaneously holding down two buttons with a foot. I can't help but laugh, and I rise to help him.
When I reach the little silver buttons he is not-quite-struggling to press, I gently nudge his foot aside with a hand and hold them down myself. Once he's rebalanced, I stroke my chin in an act to look like it's a tough question. "Let's see... How about some place quiet and peaceful and without angry Judoons who missed the thrill of chasing after you?" I can't help but grin at the end.
The Doctor pouts, shifting his weight so that he can spin some round dial, "Well, I suppose I could manage that. But you know that would be no fun," he smiles down at the console, typing this and that into the sliding keyboard. He nods at me, and I let go of the buttons, deciding to walk round the console, flicking switches on and off as I go.
"How about... some where... in the future. Some place really, really interesting, where maybe we can stay and enjoy it rather than be chased out?" I say, stopping when I reach him, "I mean, don't worry, I have no doubt that we'll run into some trouble. We can't seem to avoid it, you know." I hip check him lightly before spinning around to his other side.
He laughs slightly, and looks me in the eye, "That's my girl," he shouts, finding the largest zig-zag plotter and putting all his weight into pulling it down. The TARDIS hums to life, more alive than before, and the blue centerpiece rises and pumps in its own blue light. I can feel the moment that we are pulled from our current time and physical location and thrust into the time vortex. I seem to be more sensitive to it now, with the whole Bad Wolf incident and all that.
I glance at the Doctor while the TARDIS flies, watch him in his stance with his feet apart and his hair beginning to fall into his eyes. There are moments like these where I don't think he knows that I see him, but I see the small defeats in the angle of his shoulders and in the half-lidded look of his eyes. He's tired, and so impossibly sad, but I can't fathom the reason. My thoughts are interrupted when the TARDIS lands heavily and with her whooshing wheeze.
"Ah hah!" The Doctor exclaims, rushing to the doors, and grabbing his coat from its place on the rail as he goes. "Here," he pauses as he unlocks the door, "we," he opens one of the doors and leans outside, "are." I can hear the thick smile in his voice as he holds the door open for me.
I skip down the ramp and duck under his arm holding the door, spinning outside of the TARDIS and into the pleasantly warm air. Feeling. Impulse. Instinct. My eyes are shut, and I know nothing of this world, this new place where not many humans have probably been. Or not - I don't know. I do know that it is bright, because the light shines through my eyelids, and warm. The breeze is calm and tame, bringing scents of mint and sandalwood and something-not-quite-oranges. My gut tells me this will be a good place.
I hear the Doctor's voice by my ear before I feel his hands on my hips, "Go on," he whispers, where I can hear the giddiness in his tone, "Open your eyes, Rose."
I open my eyes all at once, and gasp. I fall slightly into the Doctor's embrace, but it's alright, he's there with warm reassuring hands by my sides. I can't look every at once. I can't absorb it all-
The Doctor clears his throat, "Well, I figured I should take you somewhere really, really... brilliant, and... beautiful for once. Because, well... you know..." He trails off at the end, but I hardly notice as I gaze up at the sky.
"Oh, Doctor," I say, voice thick, "it's so..."
"I know."
The atmosphere is completely awash with color. Every color in every shade from every palette of every painter in this universe is flying up above in long, moving clouds like multicolored fish in a school. It is magnificent. The colors twist and turn and create new shades and hues when they cross each other. Blues and oranges and greens and yellows and, oh goodness that red... they all float peacefully above our heads, blending and covering the entire sky like paint on a worldwide canvas. The sun -or maybe suns- burns through and makes every single color shine.
I've never seen anything so beautiful.
~o0o~
"This is the most wonderful thing I've ever seen," she says, turning in my arms to gape at the atmospheric art, head tilted back and leaning on my chest.
I put my head on top of hers and hope she hears the happiness in my voice when I respond, "I know."
But I'm not talking about the sky.