Title: Goodbye Hello
Author: mswyrr
Rating: PG
Summary: Rose and the Doctor held hands seconds after they met, and ran off together a day later. Post-regeneration, it doesn't take them long to reconnect.
Author's Note: Much thanks to Rashaka, for beta reading; to Immaculatemuse, for Britpicking; and to TaraLJC, for pointing out Ten's eye color. :)
You say goodbye and I say hello
--The Beatles, "Hello Goodbye"
The trip to Barcelona had got postponed a day.
Rose'd asked about Jack, and he'd told her. He'd seen the way it hurt her, but she hadn't cried in front of him. She'd bit her lip hard, blinked her teary eyes, and told him she needed some rest before they went gallivanting. Then she'd cast him one last, stunned look, and went to hide in her room and mourn alone.
He'd tried not to feel excluded. It's natural, he'd thought, heading for his own room. She just isn't comfortable with me yet. As he walked, he'd run his fingers over the TARDIS' wallpanels, saying hello to the old girl.
When he reached his room, he'd gone straight to his closet, avoiding his one mirror hung on the far wall, and hung up the jacket he'd been swimming in. After some internal debate, he'd changed into another one of his jumpers. He'd have to find something new soon enough, but it couldn't hurt to keep things familiar for a little while.
After stopping by the TARDIS wardrobe for better fitting black pants and shoes, he'd gone to the kitchen and made a martini. He wasn't too fond of the drink, but it seemed fitting. Jack had insisted they keep a supply of gin, vermouth, and green olives on hand.
As he sipped his drink, he'd wandered until he found the library. He'd set his drink down on an end table, and picked out The Time Machine, intending to reread it for the ten thousandth time (eight thousand nine hundred and seventy-three, precisely). It had become something of a post-regeneration tradition. He'd fallen asleep about half way in, and when he woke, Rose was there.
She'd been all put together, wearing one of her zippy red shirts. Her hair'd been styled nicely, and she had her makeup and a sunny expression painted on. She'd asked him about dogs with no noses, and off they'd gone.
Barcelona was a human colony on an alien planet. After seeing the decimation of life on earth, he'd wanted to see humans everywhere, only a few light years and a couple decades away, living their lives, singing their songs, going to their offices, attending their schools, walking their noseless dogs.
Rose had been fine for a few hours. They'd tramped around together, seeing the sights, having a quick bite to eat, and finally stopping by a dog park so she could see the infamous canines. Her facial expressions had been priceless. He'd got caught up in a conversation with a couple of dog show fanatics--he'd found that he enjoyed good chatter even more now-- and hadn't noticed her go missing at first.
He'd said his goodbyes, and gone looking for her.
-
When he found her, she was sitting alone on a bench in the emptiest part of the park. She was crying so hard she was bent over a little as her shoulders shook. Her face was scrunched up, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
He sat down next to her. He was hesitant about touching her, didn't want to catch her unawares, so he just sat and waited as she composed herself.
"Sorry," she said, sniffling. "We came here to have fun, and I'm ruining it. I didn't mean to. I just.." she searched around for a second, "I miss Jack, you know? We were looking at the cute little weird dogs, and I kept thinking how he could have come up with something funny to say, to make 'em even funnier, and probably try to get one for the TARDIS, too," she paused, smiling as she stared out at the park. After a moment, more tears came. "I miss him so much," she said, all in one breath, like it had been forced out of her.
"It's all right, Rose. Have a good cry. You aren't ruining anything. You miss him. You loved him," he said, understandingly, and then added, "And Jack, too."
She turned quick to face him full on. "What?"
"I said it's all right, that's all."
"No. You brought it out, you get to deal with it. Yes, I loved him. And I miss him. I miss you, you arrogant-- You're sitting right here, and I miss you. I'm never going to see him again. You're not the same," she accused. "You're you, but you're different. You're all wrong," she said, fiercely.
He flinched. It was a cruel thing to say, but he wasn't angry. She was hurting, and she was human, so she wanted to spread her hurt around. Share the pain. Poke somebody else in the soft underbelly.
Humans; they were such giving little things.
She must have seen her poison dart strike home, because she was was immediately contrite, like a child who'd pushed her best friend down on the playground. She reached out to touch him, but pulled back a second later. She turned her head away and stared at the ground at her feet miserably.
There was distance between them. So much that it felt almost insurmountable.
He wanted to take her hand, give her a hug, tell her it was all right, even if she didn't want to believe it. Before, he would have the instant he saw her crying. He could remember always feeling sad before, but she'd always made things better, just by being there. He wanted to feel her warm hand again. He wanted her arms around him.
They'd been so close. When he'd needed her, all he'd had to do was reach out.
For the first time since before, he felt heavy sadness. "I'm sorry, Rose. If I could have prevented it, I would have. You know I would have. I didn't want to go--"
As he spoke, she turned to face him, and watched him with something like surprise. When he rambled to a stop, she spoke.
"You're different," she said again. "But you're just the same, aren't you?" she smiled faintly. "Here I am, biting your head off, blaming you for getting killed, and you're apologizing," she gave a little laugh of disbelief, and sighed. "Whatever you look like, you're too kind by half, Doctor. I'm sorry. I'm the one that should be, for what I said. You're not--there's nothing wrong with you," she grinned. "You're a normal, healthy, nine hundred year old Time Lord, and I just couldn't wrap my little monkey brain around it, is all. I--"
"Ape," he corrected automatically.
"What?" she asked, surprised mid-thought.
"Apes. You're descended from apes, not monkeys. Apes are much smarter. Better with rudimentary tools, higher capacity for language..." he rambled on.
She stared at him like he'd finally grown that second head.
"Smarter," he repeated awkwardly. "And more attractive!" he added, trying to compliment his way out of embarrassment. "Sorry -- you were saying?"
Her lips twitched. She reached out and gave him a playful shove. "You're such a geek!" she said, and laughed happily, freely.
He grinned back at her. "Of course I'm a geek, Rose! My title isn't honorary, you know. I graduated from the old Prydonian Academy! We boasted some the stuffiest stuffed shirts, the geekiest geeks, and the swottiest swots in the universe. And more than a few tyrannical madmen, too," he added. He touched his chin, considered for a moment, and then said, "Come to think of it, most of them were in my graduating class..."
She smiled fondly, "Best and the worst then, yeah?"
"Well," he said, feigning largess."I wouldn't say so, but you might be right."
"I know I'm right. You're a hero," she said. The look in her eyes was just like before: infinite trust. She sounded as sure of it as she was that the sky she was born under was blue. Or that the dogs of Barcelona were noseless.
It made him feel giddy and daring.
"Yeah?" he said. "Does that mean I get a hug? You do typically hug heroes, right? --For their heroism?" he asked, then grinned at her, a little unsure.
There was a second's pause, and then she was upon him. Arms around his chest, head nestled at the crook of his shoulder, she hugged him fiercely. "Any time you want one," she said quietly, near his ear, "it's yours." Then she pulled back to look him in the face, "I don't want to hear you talking like you've got to ask," she said sternly.
"All right."
She rested her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair a little, having a mischievous thought. "Now, Rose. When you say anytime -- do you really mean any time?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."
"Oh. Well, so long as you asked for it."
She stiffened, and sat up. "Asked for what?"
"Unlimited hugs," he said. "It's a dangerous proposition. A terrible way to live-- you never know what's coming. It could happen anytime. Morning tea, naps, baths -- all become fraught with peril! You could be making a groggy trek to the loo, and... pounce!" He reached out quickly and pulled her into his lap.
She squealed. "Doctor," she said, sounding a little too pleased for outrage. "I didn't say anything about sitting on your lap!"
"Oh?" he said innocently. "But you've never had a Gallifreyan hug, have you?" He bounced her a little, "This might be how my people do it! Maybe," he said impishly, "you just should consider yourself lucky that we don't tickle."
He gave her another bounce.
She giggled. "Doctor," she said. "You're mad. Completely bonkers. Even madder than before."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," she said, relaxing into him. "I like it. You never talked about," she paused, careful to say it the way he had, "Gallifrey. Or your academy. And you didn't do lap-hugs."
"Well, that was very stupid of me, wasn't it? I don't know how you put up with it. But do I have an excuse--you hadn't given me unlimited hugging rights yet. Why was that?"
"You never asked. Maybe your new looks have made you braver."
"My looks?" he asked curiously. "What do I look like?"
"You don't know?"
He shook his head.
She looked genuinely shocked. "All this time, and you haven't looked in a mirror? Not even once? Or caught sight of yourself in a window or something? How can you go 'round without knowing what's on your face? Without knowing what face is on your face?"
He shrugged. "It didn't seem important," he prevaricated.
"Well, you're--" she maneuvered so she could see his face better, "--this would be a lot easier if I had my compact!" she complained. Then she went quiet, and studied him.
Considering the care she took with her own appearance, he figured she looked in the mirror with that same, expertly assessing eye. He wondered if she was going to tell him he needed to pluck or moisturize.
"Your eyes are brown," she said finally, and then continued, warming to the topic. "They look larger, too; nice arch to the brows. Your ears don't stick out as much, your nose is pointer, your mouth is smaller, like the rest of you, and your hair is still dark, but longer and," she reached up to run her fingers through it, "does this much styling gel always come free with the process?" she teased.
"Shouldn't have asked," he pouted.
"Aw," she said. "Poor baby. 's all right. Very Elvis Presley. Nothing like the Caesar cut you had before. It's... younger, less military."
"So you're saying I've gone from Caesar to King?" he joked
She rolled her eyes, and smiled. "Just can't resist, can you?"
"Never!" he said brightly, and smiled back.
-END-