A Novel of Impossible Things
Summary: Of all the books in the TARDIS's vast library, Rose had to find that one.
Spoilers: All season one and two of New!Who, Human Nature/Family of Blood
Disclaimer: I a poor one am. Nothing do I have. Freely do I give.
A/N: While trying to think of new times and places for Rose to pop in and out of in my fic "Base Jumping", I stumbled over this little idea. At least it started as little. It's broken into three handy bite-sized chapters that I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
Your feedback is golden.
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*+*+*For Josiane, whose name is blended beautifully with libraries to me.*+*+*
Rose loved the library.
She'd always loved libraries, even when she was small. Not because she loved to read; in fact, she hardly got through a single book cover-to-cover that wasn't Harry Potter, but still, she loved libraries. There was something about them that made her feel smarter, just by standing in them. They were so quiet and so peaceful, and she felt like if she took a deep breath in, the words would float out of the books and into her mind.
Also, this particular library had an amazing sofa.
The TARDIS's library was welcoming and vast, and Rose liked to go there whenever The Doctor took a break to tinker with the TARDIS's console. It was warm, like the lap of a huge, timeless mother and it was full of worlds and galaxies of knowledge.
It made her feel tiny and smart and insignificant and omniscient.
Just like The Doctor did.
"Nabokov?"
Rose jumped, the beautiful sofa squeaking under her.
"Doctor, you scared me," she laughed.
"Sorry," he said with a grin that proved he wasn't sorry in the slightest. "You're reading Nabokov?"
Rose looked at the book in her lap. "Not really," she said with a guilty smile. "Just flicking through. What's it about?" She held the book up so that he could see it.
"Lolita," The Doctor replied, coming over to her and sitting on the arm of the sofa. "By Vladimir Nabokov. It's…well, it's the original…kid's book." He frowned and crinkled his nose.
"Kid's book?" Rose asked, flicking through the pages. "It's a bit long, isn't it?"
"Well, not kid's book so much as…book about kids. Well, one kid in particular. Well…it's not a very nice book," he finished.
"Oh?"
"It's about this man…Humbert Humbert, and he – "
"His name is Humbert Humbert?"
"It's a very popular name, I'll have you know," The Doctor argued, with that grin on his face that told Rose he was lying through his teeth. "Third most popular name on Klom in the year 4530."
"Really?"
"Twice the Humbert, twice the fun!"
"No way…"
"Cross my heart," The Doctor cheeked. "The left one."
"Right."
"Anyway, this Humbert, well…he took a certain liking to a girl named Lolita."
"A certain liking?"
"Yeah."
"To a girl? As in, a child?"
"Yeah…"
Rose stuck out her tongue in distaste. "Urgh!"
The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. At least a thirty-five year age gap there. Not that it's all that extraordinary when you consider some age gaps -"
"Yeah, but she's a kid -"
"882 years, for example -"
"That's illegal -"
"And a species gap -"
"Who would even want to read that? -"
"Not to mention she's not even listening -"
"What?"
"What?"
Rose shook her head. She loved it when they did that. Sprinting conversations, she called them. Talk, talk, talk, and not enough rest to listen to the other person. He was grinning again. She laughed.
"So should I read this book?" she asked, waving it in front of him again.
"Well…" he drawled, making her smile. "You could…or you could read Seven Brides for Seven Slitheen, great book, best-seller in the Horse Head Nebula."
"Seven Brides for Seven...isn't that a musical?"
"Have you seen it?" The Doctor asked, excitedly. "It's brilliant. The dream ballet when the seven brides unzip their heads and reveal themselves as the seven slitheen? I cried." He wiped back fake tears.
Rose laughed again. "You're a nutter, you are," she said, her tongue sticking out from between her teeth.
"Really though, Rose," The Doctor said, taking Lolita from her hands, his fingers brushing hers for half an exhilarating moment. "Every best-seller ever written, ever to be written is right here." He stood up, and did a cute little twirl. "I've got another couple of hours of tinkering to do, so find me a good book." He tapped her on the head with the copy of Lolita. "And this time, you can tell me about it."
And with that, he flipped the book in his fingers and trotted out of the library, whistling something that sounded suspiciously like "Bless Your Beautiful Hide."
Rose giggled under her breath as she watched him go.
And then she sprung into action.
She loved that he could do that. One silly conversation was all it took to make her an avid reader. She wasn't sure how long it would last, but she knew that she would get through one book. At least one book, all thanks to one silly little chat with her Doctor. She couldn't wait to tell him all about whichever book she found. She could just see the pride in his eyes as she told him the surprise twist at the end of an Agatha Christie, or the social message behind a Tolstoy. Maybe she'd even read a Dickens, for old times' sake.
She wandered the library, buzzing with excitement. There were plaques down every wing of the library, reading "Best Selling Poetry of Poosh, 3098 – 3697", "Books about Bovines" and one particularly dusty section entitled "Mills and Boone and other Non-Stomachables". She laughed as she bypassed the section, certain that The Doctor would not want to hear the surprise endings of any of those books.
Rose came across a section marked "Best Selling Novels of Earth, 2000 – 2100" and grinned. She ran her fingers along the shelves of books, scanning through titles and book spines till she let her hand rest on one. She lifted it from the shelf and ran a hand along the front cover.
A Journal Of Impossible Things, by Verity Newman.
Rose smiled and nodded, and took the book back to the comfy sofa in The Doctor's library.
TBC