Doctor Who © BBC
Summary: It started with a phone call, and the longest cell bill in history. It ends with a disconnected call and a reunion.
She crossed her fingers and gripped her mobile tighter.
Please let this work!
He watched as she ran off to her family. Smiling and tucking his hands in his pockets, the Doctor walked back towards the TARDIS.
The Judoon platoon on the moon. It had been a long time since he'd been mixed up with the Shadow Proclamation. He used their laws to grant him audiences under peaceful contract, like with the Nestene, for instance. They reminded him too much of the Time Lords, all arrogance and pomp. "Shadow Proclamation" was just posh for "police".
He stretched his neck, feeling the injection site. He hated being sampled like a smoothie, but was glad that he had been. Those Judoon would have never found that Plasmavore, and the entire hospital would have been executed for harboring a criminal, and he hated the thought that a sharp mind like Martha Jones's would have been wasted.
He shucked off his coat and threw it across a support. Same old life, he'd told Rose, last of the Time Lords. She would have been brilliant up there, strong and feisty. He smiled as he took the TARDIS into the Vortex.
It had only been a few weeks for him. How long would it be for her? A month, a year? Was she going about her life, alarm clocks and bus stops? And why did he suddenly envy her that? He'd been so anti-domestic in the past, and now he was wondering what life like that would be, with Rose on the slow path.
She was doing it still, challenging him even from across the Void. The stuff of legends, they'd been. She was.
A shrill ringing jerked him from his musing. Ringing? He grabbed the monitor nearest him, telepathically asking his ship what that ringing was. He nearly smacked his head when the text on the screen wrote the Gallifreyan equivalent of "the telephone, you idiot."
He raced to the other side of the console, pressing the button that shot his new cell phone out of its' hidey hole. Clever, that. He flipped it open and immediately began to talk.
"Who are you? How did you get this number? How are you doing this?"
He stopped when he realized that who or whatever was on the other end was laughing.
"Oi! What's so funny?"
The TARDIS was buzzing, and he got the feeling that she was laughing, too.
"I demand to know who this is!"
There was silence on the other end, heavy, pregnant silence. And then, the most glorious lilting accent that he thought he'd never hear again.
"Already forgotten me? I'm crushed, Doctor."
His mouth dropped open of its' own volition, and he stared at the mobile in his hand. It wasn't- It couldn't- There's no-
"Oh, I can just see your face. I bet your jaw is flappin in the breeze."
He snapped his mouth closed with a click of teeth.
"An' you got offended and shut it. For once, the Oncomin' Storm's speechless. Give the girl a medal."
"You can't be."
The voice laughed again, and boy was he getting flustered at that. Laughing… at him. Of course, that was only a mark that he was indeed hearing who he thought he was. She was one of the only ones with the audacity to laugh at him.
"The roles are switched now, ain't they? Let's see… when you met me, you were tryin' to blow up me job. I was surrounded by shop window dummies. You grabbed my hand an' said one word, jus' one: Run."
He didn't realize until then that he'd been holding his breath. Of course, he had a respiratory bypass system, but still.
"Rose?"
He really should have expected the cheeky "Hello".
"But how?"
"Oi, no "Hello Rose, I've missed you, how's the family?" Fine, I'll bite. There's a rift in this universe, too. Torchwood's assigned a satellite branch here to monitor it. Things come in and out, so it's useful to have someone here. Torchwood Three is located directly under the Century Tower, an' I mean literally, it's at the center of the Hub. It makes a wonderful conductor for the rift. We can bend that power when we really need to. Or, if you're like me, you're missin' the sound of a certain someone's voice. We connected my mobile up to the tower, makin' it a Super Antenna for my Super Phone. This thing has enough oomph to blast my signal across the Void. If I've got the number, I can call. The TARDIS is such a specific number, that it won't be intercepted, either."
"Super Antenna?"
"Yep."
"Is there a time limit to this?"
"It depends on the rift. I suppose if the Rift suddenly spiked, it might throw the transmission off. It's relatively calm right now, though."
"Ah."
"That's it? Ah?"
"I don't know what to say."
"Mmm. How 'bout 'good job doin' the impossible'?"
He shook his head, not quite believing what he was hearing.
"Every time I think I know something, you flip it around on me and prove me wrong."
"You should see the bill on this thing."
With that, he lost it. A chuckle turned into roaring laughter. It felt strangely like release. Something tight around his chest loosened with each laugh he heard from her.
"Rose Tyler. My clever, feisty, impossible Rose!"
"Now he believes me."
"I miss you. How's the family?"
He beamed hearing her laugh on the other end. Which was across the Void in another universe. In Cardiff. Underground.
"Mum's wearing Prada, an' couldn't be happier. James is two months old now. Pete's director of Torchwood One in London, and Mickey's field leader for 'im."
The Doctor screwed his eyebrows together.
"You call him "Pete". Why?"
He heard her sigh across the line. Well, across the Void, if one wanted to be technical. And he did, because she deserved it.
"I can't make myself call him Dad. Not after that disaster in 1987. I mean, my Dad, he died. I held his hand. An' it doesn't help, rememberin' the first time I met 'im, sayin' I wasn't his daughter. Mum might can do it, but I just—"
"I understand."
"You were there in that church. You know as well as I do that they're not the same. My dad jumped in front of a car to save the universe. He sacrificed himself. You were gone, but he told me that if it was his last chance to be a proper dad, he wanted it. So that I could grow up to be the person I was then. Pete barely leaves his office, sending Mickey in to deal with trouble."
"Different universes, they're bought to have different personalities."
"I was almost glad to move to Cardiff. Living in that mansion, you know me. I'm off the estate; it was too posh for me. They're callin' me an heiress here. Can you believe that tosh?"
"You're a goddess on Vala 7."
"Fertility. I was the goddess of fertility. It's not quite the same thing."
"Brobdingnag?"
"Destruction! Tell me, who wants to be the God of Destruction?"
"I'm the Destroyer of Worlds."
"You certainly are to the Sucrosian people."
"I didn't know saliva would disintegrate their palace!"
She gave a short laugh, and it sort of sounded like a snort to him.
"Sucrosian? Sucrose? Sugar? Even I got that one. But you just have to lick things."
He scoffed, though she couldn't see him. She probably knew he was doing it anyways.
"I do not lick things."
"Library walls in 1879."
"Proved useful, didn't it?"
"Marmalade in Trish and Chloe's kitchen."
"I didn't lick that."
She laughed again at the technicality.
"No, you just stuck your fingers in it. But that's you, rude."
"And not ginger."
"Let's keep it that way for a while, okay? Whotcha been up to lately?"
"Well, about three minutes after we said goodbye, or what passed for a goodbye, this bride just appeared in the TARDIS."
"She appeared? Bet that was a bit of a shock."
They continued to talk for the longest time. Rose had begun as the assistant of Pete at Torchwood, but it became clear quickly that she knew far more about alien goings and comings than their director did. He'd appointed her head of Torchwood Three in Cardiff, and that's when she started in with her "Super Anntena" project. Pete and Jackie named their son James, Jamie for short, on Rose's suggestion. She said that Nancy and Jamie's story had stuck in her head, the day that everybody lived. He told her about Donna and the Racnoss.
"She sounds feisty."
"She is feisty. And rude. And ginger, Rose. She's rude and ginger."
"You asked her to come with you, yeah?"
How exactly did she know that?
"How'd you know that?"
"Well, she's very… street smart. I mean, she's loud and obnoxious, and she puts you in your place. She's definitely not gonna stroke yer ego. She jus' lost her fiancée, as lowly as he was, so there's another connection to Earth that's severed. She's got 'er mum and her granddad, but that's it. She lost 'er job, 'er fiancée… of course you asked."
"You sound very… approving. It's not something I expected."
"It's been a long time since I met Sarah-Jane, Doctor. An' I don't want you to do it alone. I never wanted that, even if it wasn't me with ya. Sounds like this Donna Noble is perfect for yer big mouth."
"I… resent the implication that I've got an oversized mandible."
"You… are stallin. Ya asked 'er along, aye. What'd she say?"
"She said no."
There was a pause on the end.
"Did she say why?"
He looked down at his hands, and boy did he have long fingers. Very long, piano playing fingers. Did he play the piano? Could he? He'd played the recorder… and the spoons.
"Doctor."
"She said that I scared her."
"Whot happened?"
"It was the Racnoss, I think. I don't know, really. I admit that I wasn't in the best frame of mind. It had been a day since Norway, for me, and there I was, something else threatening the lives on the planet I love the most. It didn't seem fair that Earth never gets a break. Maybe that's me, though. Perhaps Earth is only so attractive to hostile forces because I've been here so long. I'm not sure either way, but I just, well, I lost it, I suppose. I couldn't see anything beyond the Empress and it must have scared Donna. I drained the Thames just to wipe out an entire species of alien that were threatening the Earth. Donna, though, she saw right through me. I was going to flood the place, not thinking about anything beyond what was right there in front of me, and she stopped me. Well, she told me to stop."
"She saved you from yourself."
"She's a lot like you, you know."
"Oh, and how's that?"
"She wasn't afraid to challenge me, and she wasn't' automatically impressed."
"Oh, I was impressed, but I sure wasn't lettin' you know it, Mister "The World Revolves Around Me." Especially after you force a girl to put up for the chips."
He laughed, remembering the cute way she'd scrunched her nose up, smelling the air, and the tongue-between-teeth smile.
"That was a bit of a … a thing for us, wasn't it?"
"A thing?"
"You know. Hard day? Relax with some chips. Best friend almost die? Where's the nearest chippy?"
"That does explain why we ate chips so often. One of us was always in danger, weren't we?"
"That's because you are jeopardy friendly, Rose Tyler."
"And you have a big gob, Doctor."
She sighed.
"I've missed this."
"Me insulting you? I can do it some more, if you're really yearning."
He laughed.
"No, just us, talking, or trading witty remarks. Whatever fits your fancy."
"Ah, the domestic approach."
"I am not domestic."
"You're sitting in the library with your feet propped on the table, and you're talking to your best mate on your cell."
He looked around at the library, wondering exactly how it was she knew that he'd gone in there.
"You're a bit spooky, aren't you?"
"I'm just too good."
"That you are, Rose Tyler."
"So, what's happened since hurricane Donna?"
He went on to tell her about fibbing his way into the hospital and about going to the moon. He told her about the Plasmavore and getting his blood sucked out.
"That sounds painful."
"It was. She used a bendy straw, Rose."
"Poor you. You saved them, though."
"Martha helped."
"She sounds dead clever."
Was that a hint of jealousy?
"There's more than one way of being clever."
Rose snickered.
"Oh, I know it. So, was she TARDIS Crew material?"
"I just left there; I'm in the Vortex right now."
"Are you going to ask her?"
"I don't know. I'm not really sure if I need a companion."
He could almost see Rose shaking her head at him.
"No, you do, really. Listen to the wisdom that is Donna Noble. You need someone to stop you, either from letting you sink much too far into your own head, or to keep you from licking things. You need someone, Doctor, even if it isn't me. I miss you, but you can't run around the universe solo. It's better with two, aye?"
"Yeah. I just… I don't know, Rose. I wasn't a friendly sort of guy when we met."
"Don't have to tell me that."
He smiled gently.
"No, I don't suppose I do. But you set your nails into my jacket—
"You would have killed me—
"Figure of speech, Rose. I mean, you wormed your way in, and I couldn't stop you in the least. You'd flutter those ridiculously long eyelashes, and I'd just do it. The last of the Time Lords was putty in the 19 year old human's hand. It's depressing."
"Nah, ya just needed a hand ta hold."
"It's just… I got comfortable, you and me. I didn't like letting other people in, and I had you, so that was okay. I've not had to get close to anybody in years. But you're not here, and I don't know if I can go through all of that again, opening up to someone new."
"How many regenerations do you have left?"
"Three, why?"
"That's hundreds of years. You can't intend to spend them all alone."
"I've got the TARDIS."
"You're feeling sorry for yourself. Listen, I'm here, right now, sitting next to the base of the tower on my cell phone in Torchwood. We call it the Hub, down here. I'm sitting here, healthy, alive. I've got my mum and I've got Mickey. I've got a little brother. I'd be there with you if I could, but right now, it's not possible. But I'm alive, and I'm living a life because that's the only thing I know how to do. I keep going; I make a place for myself here. You are going to do the same thing. You're not quite sure if you're ready for a full time companion? Tell Martha you'll take her on a reward trip. Go somewhere cool. Let her visit Shakespeare, I always thought that would be great. You can get a feel for her, a feel for yourself, to see if you're ready. Or go visit Sarah-Jane. She knows you already, she'll understand. She doesn't want to travel and whatnot, but just go visit. You promised you would. Don't be that weird hermit in the blue box."
"You're saying that I've got to stop feeling sorry for myself."
"Exactly. I felt sorry for myself, too. I know how it feels. But if you keep it up, one day you'll wake up, or you'll hit your head on the TARDIS grating or something, and you'll realize that you're not living that fantastic life anymore. You told me to have a fantastic life. I'm trying to make it work. You've got to do at least that, unless you're just an old hypocrite."
"You remember that, from Satellite Five?"
"I remember it, yeah. And I never did smack you like I wanted to. And ooh, I did want to. Those ears of yours would have been ringing something fierce, but then you regenerated, and then fainted, so it didn't seem fair to smack you."
"I'm glad you didn't. No doubt you inherited Jackie's ability."
"You'd better believe it. Mickey's felt my slap."
"Poor lad, what did he do?"
"Tried to kiss me."
"Is this before or af—
"After. Just a few weeks ago."
"How long has it been?"
"About fifteen months."
"And you didn't give up?"
He could tell that her voice had softened when she spoke.
"Of course not."
"I wouldn't have minded if you had."
"I would have. Mum shook me good when I got all "It's impossible. He said it was impossible." Jackie Tyler encouraged me to find a way to get to you. I thought the world was going to implode."
"It didn't?"
"She said that something's only impossible because it hasn't been done yet, and that it only takes once for something impossible to become possible."
"Like this incredibly impossible phone call."
"Like this, yes."
"Rose?"
"Hmm?"
"Did— I mean, do you still—
"I've been working on using the rift in time and space to send a phone signal to another universe, to a blue police box that could be in any vector at any time at all. I think that's a yes, don't you?"
He sat there, on the couch, without her on the other end of it pestering him to explain something to her, and he didn't think he could not say it this time.
"Rose?"
"Yeah?"
"I—
Screeeeech!!
He threw the phone away from his ear quickly before that god awful noise could pierce his eardrum. The phone went dead almost immediately. When he picked it up, the display said:
Call Ended
Time: 2:12:48
He flopped back down onto the couch again, head lolled against the back.
Rassilon's Rod. This was karma, it had to be. Every time he tried to say it, something happened. It was like the universe was picking on him, the big bully.
Still, she'd found a way through the Void. Not physically, of course, but it was something. It was a wonderful, impossible something. Just hearing the sound of her voice, hearing her laughing with, or more often at, him, it was better than anything in the universe. She'd not given up on him, not after almost two years apart. She'd gotten on with her life like he'd asked, but she'd never given up.
And he wouldn't either. He couldn't give up, not now. Not when she'd implored him to keep going, to make friends, to be fantastic even if she wasn't there with him. She was that little voice that would push him to be better, even from across the Void.
And one day, he'd find the way. If she was working on getting to him from her side, then by Omega he was going to do the same on his. It wasn't goodbye, it couldn't be goodbye. One day, she'd run into the TARDIS again, smiling and laughing, and he'd be able to hug her again.
Until that day, though, he was going to live. In the mean time, he walked back to the console room and tracked Martha Jones and materialized the TARDIS. Just one trip, to try her out, to see if she could stand his lifestyle. He would do that for Rose, because she asked him to.
And the next time she called, she would be proud of him for trying for that fantastic life.
"We've got a big spike!" Tosh cried out over the sound of Rose's phone screeching in her ear. She looked down at the thing sadly.
Dammit.
He'd been so close this time. Still, it was one more word than last time. Now she had:
Rose Tyler, I—
"Rose!?"
She jerked herself out of her chair as Owen came flying up the stairs from the med bay and towards his computers. Life goes on, and the Rift waits for no woman, man, or Time Lord. Looking up, she saw her crew gazing at her, waiting for her command.
"Tosh, what have we got?"
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