Hello all! Here's the beginning to the sequel to "The Sort of Doctor" that I mentioned. I'm in love with these characters and these words wouldn't leave me alone so I've been writing for four days straight and have the first six chapters and the ending, so... Yes. This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine. OH, and the way I've written the accent in this piece is exactly how it sounds, so I hope it doesn't get too confusing... Message me if you need it translated haha! Please read and review, and I hope you enjoy this story as much as it's predecessor! Thanks for reading x
"I bought you a birthday present," Rose stated, marching from the direction of the library with a determined grin. The Doctor poked his head out from underneath the console – knocking his glasses askew in the process – and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"I said I got you a birthday present."
"I can't remember when my birthday is; I haven't celebrated one for about six hundred years! How can you possibly have bought me a present?"
Grinning, Rose sidled closer and plonked down onto the grating next to him, poking him playfully in the tummy as she leaned in.
"I made one up. It was April the eighteenth when you were created in the other world, so… yeah. That's today. I know time flows differently here but according to the calendar in the kitchen – why do we even have that, by the way? – It's April eighteenth. So, happy birthday!"
Wrapping her small hands around his temptingly loosened tie, she yanked him roughly towards her and pressed a lingering, sumptuous kiss to his forever willing lips. Much to his distaste, the embrace was over much too quickly and he was suddenly bereft – Rose shuffled away and leaned back on her hands, tilting her head enquiringly.
"What age are you now?"
The Doctor pondered the question for a moment, several possible answers waltzing around in his mind. Pouting, he tapped the sonic thoughtfully against his bottom lip.
"Technically speaking, I'm one. Or I'm about nine hundred and ten. Something like that." For someone so exorbitantly clever, he looked stupidly pleased with this somewhat vague answer. Rose rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with the toe of her shoe.
"Yeah well it's a bit weird to think of you as either. That makes you either a baby or an ancient old fossil… Neither of them are turn-ons!"
"Well then make up an age, just like you made up my birthday. I dunno… what age are you again? Twenty six?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So I can be twenty six too!"
A slight guffaw escaped Rose at that, and she clamped her hands over her mouth – his expression became wounded and his brows knit together in anxiety. She tried desperately to make light of her unkind response.
"Sorry, it's just… Well, you don't look a day over thirty six, if that makes you feel any better?"
"What? Oh, come on! Be fair! Thirty two!"
"Thirty five."
"Thirty three?"
"Call it a generous thirty four – you can say you're my sugar daddy?"
The Doctor's mouth went slack as Rose waggled her eyebrows suggestively, noting with great satisfaction the way his resolve crumbled under her coaxing. He mouthed wordlessly for a moment, his face contorting into countless expressions before falling into the open mouthed smile she so adored.
"Well, go on then!" He was suddenly on his feet, wiping the dust from his trousers. "Where's this birthday present you were talking about?"
Rose had given hours of thought to the process of selecting this gift. She had vacillated endlessly among the various avenues she could go down, but knew that the only thing he wanted (materially speaking) might cause another of their infamously explosive quarrels. In the end she had yielded to the weight of her own wishes and gone ahead and bought the items in question whilst on a visit to her parents for little Tony's sixth birthday. She almost regretted it, fearing the consequences, but knew she had to give him the chance to surprise her – he was still good at that, when given the opportunity.
Taking him by the hand, Rose led the Doctor along the dimly lit corridors, her tummy squirming uncomfortably with nerves. The half Time Lord heard the fluttering of her heart and licked his lips, sure that whatever gift she had in mind for him was sure to be incredibly exciting.
When they reached their bedroom, the TARDIS opened the door for them and then closed it afterwards, altering the lighting slightly to make the room brighter. The Doctor looked at Rose questioningly as she turned to face him with a look of resignation on her face.
"Now, don't get mad," she cautioned, pointing a stern finger square at his face. She let him go and crossed the room to her wardrobe, drawing out a black garment bag and thrusting it unceremoniously in his direction: her eyes were downcast in an expression of apprehension.
The Doctor's eyes bulged delightedly as he gazed down upon the suit contained within the bag. Chocolate brown cotton, woven through with cornflower blue pinstripes – very fitted, straight legged trousers, four buttons on the jacket. This was certainly not what he had been expecting. He noticed Rose backing off slightly, edging backwards inch by inch towards the door.
"What's the matter?" he questioned, unzipping the bag fully and removing the suit without looking. Rose squinted at him curiously.
"You're not gonna go mental at me for – I dunno – not loving you as much as the other you, or something? I remember that was an issue last year. I just didn't want -"
"It's no longer a point of contention – we sorted it out, didn't we?"
He grinned at her and cocked his head in a signal for her to approach, holding his arms wide to embrace her. With a lazy kiss to her mouth, he murmured his thanks and declared his affections for her for the eight hundred and thirty second time (he was counting). Seemingly thrilled by his approval, Rose turned him round in her arms and shoved him forwards towards the suit that lay on the bed.
"Get that horrible blue one off, right now! Bloody thing needs washed."
She waited for him in the console room, leaning back comfortably on the jump seat with her legs crossed and eyes turned upwards; watching the time rotor moving was something she never tired of. Soon, the Doctor strode into the room and paused, standing with his feet wide apart, hands in his pockets – brown suit, brown coat, blue shirt… Even more perfect looking than usual. Rose grinned slyly and hopped to her feet, striding forwards to meet him and smoothing her hands up the suede lapels of his coat.
"How do I look?" he joked, tilting his head downwards and raising one eyebrow in an expression so tempting it was always sure to knock her off balance.
"Brilliant," she replied simply, not bothering to suppress the ripple of pleasure that tingled up her spine. The young woman beamed up at him, her face glowing with joy and amusement. The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a few times, this apparently being one of the rare occasions that saw him lost for words. Eventually he settled for a small, tender smile with one raised eyebrow – an expression so candid Rose was certain she was the only person in all of time and space to ever have been lucky enough to witness it. His mood so often switched on a dime; this time playfulness to sincerity in less than a second.
"It's been so long since I've – I don't remember…" He stopped, his voice becoming choked at the back of his throat as he struggled to suppress the unbidden and highly unexpected surge of emotion that currently welled in his chest. "Thank you, Rose. This really means a lot to me," he murmured, bending his head and dropping a gentle yet searing kiss to her ever eager lips. She smiled softly as she pulled away, resting her hands on his cheeks and latching his gaze firmly onto hers.
"I didn't mean to upset you, you big old softie!" she chuckled, ghosting her thumbs over his cheekbones. The Doctor laughed along with her, shrugging off his melancholic mood as quickly as it had come.
"Quite right, sorry! Just got a tad overwhelmed for thirty four seconds."
"Very precise, Doctor."
"Indeed, Rose. Now, where would I like to go for my birthday? Somewhere with the finest cuisine in the universe, preferably. Bundles of culture, of course."
"How about Paris?"
"Oh yes! I love Paris. Which century?"
"Not the eighteenth!" Rose interjected, crossing her arms tightly. The Doctor looked askance at her.
"Why not? That's a good century!"
"Yeah, maybe for you."
Rose's expression became so hostile that the Doctor knew better than to push the matter – clearly something about eighteenth century France bothered her, and through experience he knew that it was wiser not to prod the sleeping dragon in the eye. He coughed slightly before continuing.
"How about… The 21st century?"
"Really? You have all of time and space to choose from and you pick 21st century earth? Are you mad?" Rose questioned, although now without her previous hostility – the corner of her mouth quirked upwards into a reluctant smile. The Doctor echoed her expression, suddenly catching her by the hand and tugging her around the console, twirling her under his arm like a dance before he began to push buttons, twirl knobs and flip the appropriate levers to send them spiralling out of the vortex and towards their chosen destination.
"I'm hurt, Rose," he grinned slyly, holding on for dear life. "I'm surprised you even have to ask. Of course I'm mad. Absolutely stark raving bonkers."
The TARDIS landed with her usual wheezing groan, her inhabitants thrown to the floor and laughing uproariously. The ship, who was now thoroughly enjoying her presence in both of their minds, added her own laugh into the mix in the form of a deep, tingling thrum that sent both the Doctor and Rose shivering in delight. He of course still felt the telepathic connection much more keenly than his companion did, but the fully human woman was now always aware of the comforting presence of their sentient ship.
Rose crawled over to where the Doctor lay sprawled on the grating, his new suit already collecting an impressive layer of dust. An impatient sigh escaped her as she patted him down, clouds of dust flying around them and making her cough loudly before speaking.
"So, outside that door is Paris? Actual Paris?"
"Oh yes!"
"And you won't have accidentally landed us on a planet that's headed into a black hole or anything?"
"What? No! Not after last time."
"Good."
She stood, brushing a layer of goodness knows what from her jeans then offering a hand to the still prostrate part Time Lord. He accepted and allowed her to haul him upright, immediately tossing an arm casually around her shoulders as they travelled towards the door.
"There's no more romantic place on earth than this city," he smiled as TARDIS opened her door for them and they passed through it into the bright day beyond.
The sight that met their eyes was certainly not the one they had expected to see. There was no Eiffel Tower to be seen, and no Arc de Triomphe. Instead, they had stepped out onto a bustling street full of harassed looking shoppers, lined with very British shops indeed – the queue for Greggs was right out of the door.
Her mouth pressed into a hard line of frustration, Rose turned to the Doctor and crossed her arms, her eyebrow raised in irritation. The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, tapping the toe of his trainer on the ground in what was fast becoming a nervous habit.
"Well, this might just be a part of Paris that isn't usually shown in the tourist brochures!" he said with faux levity – there was a tremor in his voice he could have very easily hidden as a full Time Lord. As if to dig the hole he was currently in just that little bit deeper, a passer-by chose that precise moment to walk straight into his shoulder, stopping only to shoot a very unkind sentence in his direction.
"Want tae watch where yer goin' ya mad twat?!" he screeched loudly before barrelling onwards and around a corner. Rose sighed loudly and tightened her arms around her body as the chilly air settled more heavily on her. She gritted her teeth.
"Pretty sure this isn't Paris."
"What? That chap might just be on holiday. Hold on while I go and ask someone."
"Doctor, don't –"
As quick as a flash, the Doctor had run forwards to grab a young man in a tracksuit by the shoulders, a friendly smile adorning his face.
"Hello, don't suppose you could remind me where I am, could you?" he grinned, waggling his eyebrows. The young man looked askance at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"You high mate?" he queried, tugging nervously at the upturned collar of his tracksuit jacket.
"What?"
"I said are ye high? Or huv ye been oan the swally awready? It's only ten in the mornin' pal."
"No, I haven't. I'm just curious as to –"
Suddenly, the confusion in the young man's eyes turned to distrust and a small, malevolent smirk crossed his face.
"Hawd oan. Are ye English?"
"I – what?"
"Are ye English, I said? 'Cause if ye ur I'll huv tae smash yer box in, ye see. That's whit guys like me dae tae English twats that wander aboot Glasgow wae nae clue." He cracked his knuckles threateningly.
The Doctor gulped loudly and Rose could psee the wheels turning in his head. When he opened his mouth to reply, she almost felt a little glad that they had landed in the wrong place. To her glee, his words tumbled out in the most delightful Scottish brogue – he had driven her crazy with that accent back in the old universe, and she'd always harboured a secret fantasy about it. Hearing it again almost made her tingle with excitement.
"I'm only having you on! We're just off the train from – eh – Bathgate. We were out last night and I'm still feelin' a wee bit merry, y'know?"
His accent was softer than that of the tracksuited youth, but was still recognisably Scottish – more rounded on the vowels and far more pleasant on the ear.
"Awright pal ye nearly hud me there, huv a good day," the young man laughed as he clapped the Doctor on the shoulder and turned and swaggered off, the sound piercing and unpleasant. The Doctor turned around to face Rose again, his face pale and worried looking.
"Well, who's to say Glasgow can't be romantic? The cuisine is… interesting. You'll not find a deep fried mars bar anywhere else in the universe. And they have lots of things to see… They have a – crane. And a boat. And… other stuff."
Rose gave a half smile and threaded her arm through his, resting her head lightly on his shoulder.
"I might believe you if you keep talking in that accent," she grinned, dragging him off to explore.
Your reviews mean so much to me (*wink*). I hope you enjoyed!