Title: The Day After
Rating: PG-13 for mild sexual references
Disclaimer: I do own series 1 and 2 on DVD and that's all. The BBC owns these characters and I promise that I will return them safe and unharmed and maybe a little happier.
A/N: This is a follow-up to my story "Aftermath". It is and is intended to be pure fluff for 10 and Rose. Constructive criticism is welcome. Flames will be used to make my tea.
Rose Tyler woke up with a smile on her face. The reason was very clear; she had woken up in the Doctor's bed. She had loved him since they had met; certainly, by the time they had eaten chips in a London shop after returning from the year five-billion. She had loved the man who wore a suit of armor in the shape of a battered leather coat. She also loved the man who took her to punk rock concerts, rescued her from the devil and wore a pinstriped suit. Two Doctors; so different yet so the same.
Her first Doctor was brooding, tired and hurt with the weight of the loss of his people resting on his entire being. The second, so full of exuberance for life. Rose knew that he still carried the guilt of Gallifrey he felt when they had first met; he just coped with it differently than he once did.
She stretched her body and rolled over to bury her face in his pillow. The scent he left there was distinctly him; TARDIS oil, bananas, and a slight hint of honey. His scent, her Doctor, her love.
As Rose was stirring, a very nervous Doctor was in the kitchen clad only in his dressing gown. This was "The Morning After", the first day of a new life together. He was torn between "Hey, this is Rose. Tea and toast will be fine" and "Tea, toast, pastry, juice. Will she want eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, beans on toast? Orange, apple, grape, or some exotic juice? Earl Grey, Darjeeling, PG Tips, decaf, green?" He finally settled on PG Tips, toast with marmalade, pastries and apple juice; enough for two. A small vase with a carnation-like flower he picked from the TARDIS' garden completed the loaded tray as he made his way back to the bedroom.
He found Rose still sleeping wrapped around his pillow. Her face was serene, almost glowing. There, at that moment, all the doubts that he had about falling in love with her were gone; he loved her completely and in every way possible.
The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed after resting the breakfast tray on the bedside table and watched Rose sleep. Why did it take almost losing her to finally act on what they both wanted? Still, he knew the pain of losing someone you loved, why risk that again? Yet, he did.
His second bonded one and infant son were casualties of the Time War. Aeantha was beautiful and caring, so unlike the thorns she was named after. Their son was named Charon; meaning "fierce brightness". There was no way of knowing if Charon would have lived up to his name. He was less than a Gallifreyan year old when the Time War began. Both were now lost to Time and had only lived in his memories. The loss of his bonded one and their son was one of the strongest sources of pain from the Time War. Their loss caused the most guilt.
He felt that after all he had done he did not deserve this. He did not deserve Rose. He did not deserve to feel this happy again. Nevertheless, here he was, in his (theirs now, he supposed) bedroom watching his human and oh, so beautiful lover sleep.
Even though the Doctor had been in love before, Rose Tyler was the love of his 900-plus year life. There was something amazing about his Rose. She was brilliant; not in the academic sense, although he suspected she could be with the right training. No, his Rose was brilliant in the ways of the world, maybe even the universe. Growing up on a council estate in London surely gave her a practical understanding of life and it gave her heart. She strove to see the good in all things and every living thing. She even tried to save the life of a Dalek because she saw some good in it; a Dalek!
She stirred when he caressed her cheek, her eyes opening slowly.
"Good morning, Love." He said tenderly.
"Hello."
"Breakfast?"
She nodded and he brought the tray to their bed. They exchanged small talk over their meal, relived trips they had taken and fun that they had shared.
After both had eaten their fill, the Doctor took the tray to the kitchen and returned to his love. She wasn't in bed any longer and he could hear the shower running in the en-suite bathroom.
He decided to join her. "Rose, would you like some company?"
"I'd love it!" was her reply.
He shed his dressing gown and walked into the huge shower; he was taken by her beauty. To him, she was the most desirable creature in the entire universe. She was simply washing her hair and she took his breath away. He slid up behind her and started to massage her scalp.
She moaned with the sheer pleasure of having his hands on her. She turned to face him. Her kiss lit him on fire again. The lovers quickly washed then they rinsed any shampoo and soap off their bodies and returned to the bedroom, barely taking the time to dry off.
It was then that Rose noticed that the bedroom ceiling looked like a window to the heavens. Stars, suns, novas and nebulas swirled above them. The beauty of this display took her breath away only slightly less than the burning desire that she saw in his eyes and felt in his touch. It was a heady feeling; being loved and wanted this much.
He saw the love and acceptance in her eyes. She loved him for him. She did not know the all the things that he had done, the loves that he had had, the lives he had taken. Oh, Rose knew that he had taken lives. She didn't like it, of course, but she accepted it. After all, he didn't kill for the sake of killing. He killed for self-defence or to save others, not in cold-blood. Rose also knew that the Doctor had loved others before her. In his 900-plus years how could he not have loved others? She understood that there had been lovers in his past and there would be others after she left him. She would never leave voluntarily, but she knew and understood that death or circumstances would force them apart some day.
Here and now, though, none of that mattered; they had each other.
The new lovers took their time that morning, exploring each other and learning how the other responded to each touch. Learning what worked and what didn't work was exhausting and they soon fell asleep in each others' arms, satiated.
The Doctor woke up first, needing much less sleep than humans. He showered and dressed and walked out to the console room. He was getting hungry, after all breakfast was (a quick look at the chronometer) eight hours ago.
Eight hours ago, no wonder why he was hungry. He set course for London, 2007, as he thought that he would take Rose out for dinner. He left the console room and went to go wake her. He was surprised to nearly walk into her coming out of the kitchen, eating a banana.
"Rose, you're awake. Where do you want to go for dinner?" he asked her.
"Yeah, just got up a few minutes ago. Dinner? Anywhere, Doctor, doesn't matter."
"OK. Wear something feminine, OK? Nice but comfortable, OK?"
"Where are you taking me?" Rose asked.
"Somewhere nice, but comfortable." He replied with a wide grin. How he loved this woman.
"When and where?" Rose asked. She didn't want to be caught wearing a dress from 2500 to 1599.
"London, Late June 2007." This was all the information he would give her as he winked at her and turned back to return to the console room.
In record time, Rose entered the console room in a rust-coloured sundress with matching sandals. She took his breath away as he landed the TARDIS in a back alley in London on a Friday, June 2007. It was about six PM. He knew that they had been in London that day and needed to avoid a paradox. But seeing their activities here were in the opposite end of the city than before, the Doctor felt confident that it wouldn't be a problem. Besides, the weather today was beautiful and his Rose deserved all the beauty he could give her.
The restaurant he had chosen was peaceful and homey with a large fireplace to help set the mood. Given that it was June, it wasn't lit, however. Pity, the Doctor thought, fire can be very romantic. They sat at adjacent sides at the square table; it was easier to hold hands that way as opposed to sitting across from each other. The Doctor told one story after another, pausing only long enough to order their dinners, his voice not betraying the nervousness he felt.
As they waited for their meals, the Doctor's voice suddenly betrayed his nervous state. He took both her hands in his and Rose could feel the slight tremor in them. "Rose, I just want to let you know, I have no regrets about the path our relationship has taken. I….I…. I care about you a great deal. I have never been so happy in my life than when I'm with you. You have given me two of the greatest gifts that any being can give another; peace and hope. I would gladly give you my forever if I could. I can give you your forever if you want it." He anxiously waited for her reply, hoping that she didn't feel as if everything that had occurred in the past day was all a mistake.
"I do want it." Rose replied, feeling nervous herself. "I'll gladly give you my forever, Doctor. Until I die or we are forced to separate, I give you my forever."
They both, to an extent, were relieved that those three small words were left unspoken. Both knew and understood how perilous their lives were. Both knew that at any time they could be torn away from one another. In their hearts, they both knew how they were hopelessly in love with each other. Saying the words was just an invitation to disaster.
They ate their dinners with small talk; the kind of talk that leaves a lot of things unsaid. Some things do not need to be said, however, because the other already knows. They shared desert, each feeding the other and giggling with pure bliss.
With dinner eaten and paid for (he actually remembered money this time out), the couple set out for home. Home was in the shape of a big, blue police box parked in a back alley way. Silently, he wondered if she wanted a "normal" life; house, cars, kids, doors, carpets, maybe a cat. He would even give up his TARDIS for her, at least while they were together, if it would make her happy. If Rose wanted, he would walk along the slow path with her to try to give her the life she wanted. Slow and safe or fast and dangerous; no matter what life she wanted it didn't matter. He didn't care; he would try to give it to her. He was in love and wanted this feeling to last a lifetime, his lifetime, and so did she. They knew it wouldn't last forever, until the end of his time. Rose's lifespan was destined to be shorter than his. They also knew that this new relationship would face challenges that could tear them apart. Together, they would face them all and with any luck, triumph. Two legends in the universe were finally realizing their destinies and found that their destiny was to be as one.