Still Fits
So what sort of a man are you?
Am I funny? Sarcastic? Sexy? Right old misery? Life and soul? Am I gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck?
You scour the endless rows of the TARDIS wardrobe. You are certainly not a cravat sort of man.
How have you done this before? Selected a certain aura, and certain look for your currant self? The leather jacket, however tough and imposing looking, does not seem right for you anymore. Wearing it feels like you are striding through the universe wearing a sign saying 'Don't Touch Me'. You wore it as a traveller, reluctant to accept company for a long time; as a survivor bearing the horrible guilt and memories of ending a war that wiped out the entire existence of the rest of your race. But now…
She ended the war once and for all and, this time, you had the choice to save everything you love. In sacrificing yourself you achieved some kind of peace. You are no longer a haunted man. You are a lucky man, a man with too much life to not live it to the fullest. Right now you can't presume to know yourself and you are filled with the thrill of self discovery.
Something catches your eye and your hand shoots out, drawing it away, distinguishing it and preventing it from becoming lost again amidst the rest of the clothes. A trench coat too… A manic grin creeps it's way onto your face…This will work!
You approach the door to the Tyler's flat and feel nervous. You want to be different and you also want Rose's approval; to know you as The Doctor. So whilst you chose your look, wishing to show your individuality, you were also mindful of Rose's possible reactions. It is just as important. You hear sounds of Christmas joy before you open the door, her melodic laughter. You almost swagger in, eager to show yourself off, hands in your trench coat pockets, and she turns to meet your eye. And smiles.
She smiles a smile that makes your hearts soar, makes your stomach flutter and suggests she approves entirely of your chosen ensemble. You can't stop yourself from just grinning stupidly in your elation. You have Christmas dinner with Rose, Jackie the dreaded mother, and Mickey the Idiot. God help you, you've gone domestic. But it doesn't matter so much because she's happy. You pull a cracker with her and watch her laugh and put on her flimsy, paper hat.
The council estate file outside with delighted cries at the 'snow' fluttering down and covering the ground. You look up, filled with sadness, and watch the remains of the Sycorax spaceship burn fiery trails across the night sky. It's better to let these people believe the illusion. Rose has sidled up to you, Jackie and Mickey standing a few feet away.
"It's beautiful." So full of wonder. "What are those? Comets?"
" It's the spaceship, breaking up the atmosphere. And this isn't snow, it's ash." The bitter truth; it sounds so tragic, destruction raining down upon them whilst the rest of the human race can watch it in denial. Not knowing what cruelty they are capable of.
" Ok, not so beautiful."
You wish you could make it so, for her. But you can't, so instead you spout forth a load about a new earth, unable to deny the existence of aliens, and so on. You're probably trying to prevent, for as long as possible, the moment when she declines to come with you. It's happened before, friends who, so used to one face, cannot handle the presence of a new one on the same man.
Rose looks at you, fear and apprehension apparent in her eyes, and you stop talking.
" An' what about you? What will you do now?"
What else can you do? " Well," you say, feigning a casual tone, " back to the TARDIS, same old life."
" What, on your own?" she asks quickly. Oh, God, no!
" Don't you wanna come?" You make the invitation just as quick and brace yourself for the blow.
" Yeah." It's too good to be true!
" Do you, though?" You're doubtful still. Is she really fine with the change?
" Yes!" You're dancing inside but you still have to make sure…
" I just thought, cos I'd changed-"
" Yeah, I thought cos you'd changed, you wouldn't want me anymore." Oh, Rose Tyler, you fantastic, beautiful, extraordinary, silly little human!
" Oh, I'd love you to come!" And you love her.
" Okay!" You're both staring at each other with huge Cheshire Cat grins on your faces, seconds away from laughing with joy. Nothing can spoil this moment, nothing-
" You're never gonna stay, are you?" Oh, why did Mickey have to say that? With a face like a bloody mackerel? Or do you mean haddock? You stick with depressed, grumpy fish. Rose turns to look at him,
" There's just so much out there. I can't not go." Not an option!
" Well, I think you're mad!" Jackie pipes up, not one to hold back, " The pair of ya. It's like you go looking for trouble!"
You're strangely more tolerant of Rose's happy-slapping mother in this incarnation and you walk over and throw an arm around her shoulders.
" Trouble's just the bits in between!" you say happily, " It's all waiting out there, Jackie. All those stars and planets and creatures, I haven't seen them yet! Not with these eyes!"
You walk back over to your rightful place, beside Rose, and cock your head to gaze at her, " And it is gonna be fantastic!"
It has the intended affect. You see her nod with a small smile; she knows it's still you. Still the Doctor. And it gives you permission to make that gesture that belongs to the two of you. That which is most familiar. You hold out your hand for her to take.
" That hand of yours still gives me the creeps…" she grins, and her hand slides into yours.
Still fits.