A/n: I was watching 'World War Three' and thought that had the Doctor actually gone to the Tyler's for dinner, it would have been an interesting way for some of Jackie's feelings about the Doctor to come out, and vice versa; we only got a tiny bit in 'Aliens Of London' which ended in her slapping him and him complaining to Rose about it. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Do I have to?" The Doctor grumbled loudly, his companion remaining on the other end of the phone. He strode restlessly around the TARDIS console, sighing as he eased; or rather was thrown; into the knowledge that his fight against the unwelcome invitation had been lost. He, the Doctor, the last time lord, would have to endure mealtime at Jackie Tyler's table; under her firm glare, disapproving countenance and hardened palm.

Rose grinned mischievously, pulling herself up abruptly in her chair. She sat in her mother's flat; the living room to be precise; while Jackie bustled around with pots, pans and an assortment of other cooking instruments in the kitchen. "Well…" she started almost flirtatiously, poking her tongue out to the wall ahead of her as she did so. "You don't have to, but if you don't, you're on your own…"

In reality Rose would never sacrifice the mind blowing adventure that was time travel, never mind the friendship she had forged while travelling. But she was a Tyler, and that meant only one thing. Manipulation was her middle name. True to many men before him, the Doctor had well and truly fallen into his companion's trap. She'd learned from the master, after all. Jackie Tyler, the woman who had begun slaving away over the stove at an unknown point since Rose had answered the Doctor's call. Since the phone had trilled to life with tones unfit to disturb any other, she'd known the Doctor would be joining all at the Tyler residence for dinner. Jackie must have heard Rose's defiant, determined and unarguable tones, for she seemed to have sensed that she would have one extra sitting around her table this mealtime.

The Doctor's expression fell, as if he was a dying man taking one last stand against his almost certain fate. He pouted to the TARDIS, and she did nothing but rumble routinely, almost silently and ominously in the background. "Oh alright then…" the Doctor stated, while Rose pulled a leg up into her chair and tucked it beneath her. "You're going to be the death of me, Rose Tyler…" the time lord added jokingly as he reluctantly began to power down his beloved time ship, within which he felt so at home, so protected, so safe. The ship was a far cry from Jackie Tyler's living room, and that was surely soon to become an undisputed fact, if it wasn't already.

Smiling into the surrounding air on her end of the line, Rose exhaled deeply. "I'll meet you by the main door, then walk up with you and introduce you properly," she wasted no time in grinning courteously, although this could not be observed by the Doctor.

The Doctor coughed, as if insulted that his feelings had been cast momentarily aside. "Erm…" he voiced, taking the following seconds to consider his phrasing with due care, attention and tepidness. "This is a time machine," he hesitated, hoping and praying with all of both of his hearts that his words would give rise to the avidly desired gateway to restart his machine. "Can't we just come back.. you know.. when I'm ready?"

"Don't you try and back out on me now, Mister," Rose smirked sternly, pushing herself out of her chair and stroking down her clothes in a final check to her appearance.

"I'm not!" The Doctor protested all too loudly, so much so that it almost sounded as if he was squealing. "It's just… I've already experienced your mother's interpretation of introduction once today, and it's got a long way to go!" He managed, looking utterly crestfallen.

Rose stifled back a giggle and sighed under her breath. "Look; you'll be fine. It's not just you; she smacked Mickey once and I've known him since we were kids. And anyway, I'll be there." She added reassuringly, although her intentions reached the Doctor as a standard bullet reaches a dalek; it didn't.

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment, before his mouth fell open in shock and the receiver narrowly avoided falling through his fingers and out of his grasp. "She only smacked Mickey when you two got together; she thinks we're an item!" The Doctor reeled aloud, shrieking in order to convey the urgency of his point to his companion.

"No… well yeah; no, she just thinks you're a bit close to me, so she needs to show you there's no messing with the Tylers. I mean, there aren't many people who could get me to travel through space and time with them in several hours flat."

"I'll take that as a compliment then."

Rose paused, before strolling to the table and gathering up her keys. "Take it any way you like; main door, two minutes," She offered, her words ceasing abruptly with something of a chilling command.

"Rose?"

Grumbling, Rose threw open the door to the flat and paced out of it. "Stop trying to talk your way out of it, Doctor." She insisted, before adding, "It won't work."

The protest was almost instantaneous; a natural reflex, almost.

"I'm not protesting, I just wondered; um-, she isn't like one of those professional interrogator mothers who sits the bloke directly opposite her, and as far away from her daughter as she can, is she?" The Doctor spoke concernedly, with a hint of a stutter apparent in his words.

Letting out a long overdue burst of laughter, Rose began to skip on her descent of one of the numerous flights of stairs that led to the main door. "She doesn't stick labels on the chairs that dictate where you can and can't sit, alright?"

The Doctor had been about to make it plain to his companion that he was most certainly not alright, with the prospect of not only having to sit around Jackie Tyler's table, but also consume food that had been prepared by her; looming. He'd only regenerated eight times to date, and was by no means ready to surrender to Jackie's inevitable torture in his own personalised version of 'The Last Supper,' when Rose rather rudely ended the call and caused the line to meet its death. "Women…" he grumbled, dragging his feet as he stepped away from the familiarity, safety and comfort of his prized time ship.

--

"Mum," Rose called confidently as she pulled her key from the lock and sauntered back into the flat. The Doctor paced nervously in her wake, up the entire length of the flights of stairs; which as the Doctor was now concerned, were far too short. Far too short indeed.

Jackie peeked from her kitchen around the door and into the living room. "Shepherd's pie will be done in about twenty minutes; just putting the chips on now," she updated her daughter quickly, still with that same air of control lacing her words that caused the Doctor to endlessly shudder in fear.

"Chips… Rose we could have just established repeat custom at that chippy around the corner, like the nice caring people that we are," the Doctor chimed in an attempt at humour, while Rose helped to relieve him of his jacket, from which he slowly, gradually and rather nervously released his arms.

I don't believe this; putty in his hands. That bloody alien. I knew I always hated him. She's nineteen; barely established control of her own mind, and along swans him out there, to screw it all back up again. Space travel, time travel, aliens. Nineteen years old, we'll see about this. Screwing up her mind like that… oh god I seriously don't want to think about that…Oh she's giggling at him now; my queue, I think…Let him take off his own stupid jacket!

"Doctor, you can hang your jacket up in the hallway; coat peg's on the inside door of the boiler cupboard."

Oh shit. Boiler cupboard? Another supposedly intelligent little human invention? Coat peg? They have pegs?

Rose seemed to sense an air of uneasiness surrounding her companion, and held her hand out to take his jacket. "I'll take it for you; she's just trying to confuse you, to single you out; don't let her wind you up," she whispered caringly, as the Doctor issued a coarse and yet barely audible response. "Well she's doing fantastically at it!"

Little sod; can't even hang up his own sainted jacket! I'll get him…

Having placated the leather jacket on the appropriate peg; tucked away within the confines of the boiler cupboard; Rose reappeared in the lounge. Jackie had heard the door creek open, and grasped yet another opportunity which had presented itself to her with both hands.

"Rose, why don't you show the Doctor to the table?" She suggested sweetly, although those that knew her were able to detect her hidden intention a mile away. It was an order, make no mistake. "Doctor, you can sit by me…"

Oh hell. Fanbloodytastic. Death by mother. Lovely. Now I see why the human race consider inviting people round for dinner to be fun. That Jackie Tyler's loving every second of this…

Sharing horrified glances with the Doctor, Rose made her way to the table and occupied her usual seat; that being directly opposite her mother, which put her diagonally across from the Doctor. "No seating plans? Maybe you don't know your mother as well as you thought," the Doctor scoffed, cautiously taking his seat at the table. He feared a whoopee cushion, a pin, an excessive quantity of green gunge… oh hell he wouldn't put it past Jackie to have secretly rigged up a blow torch.

"Sensitive bottom, Doctor?"

Jackie Tyler is so dead!

Bustling out from her kitchen cradling a steaming tray bulging with shepherd's pie, Jackie Tyler most definitely had her hands full. She carried a white tea towel across one shoulder, and another covering the bottom of the tray. "Here we are then," she offered, raising her hand slightly in order to display the tray almost like a trophy piece.

I'll stick that somewhere she won't approve of in a minute.

"Doctor, you can go and fetch the plates. I've put enough plates out on the side; knives and forks are in the drawer under the sink," she instructed quickly, setting the tray down in the middle of the table.

Surprised she doesn't get a fucking ruler and compass and have a good go at pinpointing the exact middle of the table.

The Doctor had craned his neck and glanced behind him as Jackie took an awfully long time to position one tray of food. Scooping the pile of plates into his arms, the Doctor set about locating the required items of cutlery; this led him to the drawer under the sink. Valid attempts at gathering the knives and forks with one hand only resulted in an almost deafening clattering of plates against each other, which was met with much opposition from a rather disgruntled Jackie. "Drop any of my plates on that floor and I'll kill you!"

You'll do it anyway, toxic witch. I did not just think that…

"What's with the delay on the chips, Jackie?" The Doctor smirked, poking his tongue out while safely only in view of one of the many kitchen cupboards.

I'll show her.

Jackie huffed, having heard and understood the time lord's most recent comment. "They'll be on this table long before three plates will be; I'm talking plates that you haven't smashed to smithereens on the way to the table."

"Is she ever satisfied?" The Doctor carefully asked his companion as Jackie made for the kitchen. Rose looked to have been insulted for a moment, before pausing to mull over her thoughts for several seconds. Jackie strolled in armed with a steaming plate full of chips, which denied the Doctor his avidly longed for answer. She regained her seat beside the Doctor promptly, which caused him to squirm and tense. "Dig in," she told her guests, shuffling her feet forwards slightly in tucking her chair back under the table.

"I didn't mean you!" Jackie boomed, turning her attention to the Doctor, her eyes burning into his. Her message scalded onto his brain as she blocked his spoon with her own, and he sat grumpily back down in his seat. "Tuck in, darling," she continued to tell Rose, while the Doctor slammed his spoon down onto the table top.

That woman is impossible to please…

"So," Jackie swallowed a mouthful of shepherd's pie before coughing casually. "Where did you take my daughter while leaving me sitting here for a year, suffocated in the belief that she was dead, gone, and I'd never see her again?"

"Just around," the Doctor informed Jackie while clearly struggling to swallow a mouthful.

This should come attached to a health warning…

Jackie flinched, sitting bolt upright in her chair adjacent to the Doctor. "Just around," she repeated, seething. "Don't you dare take my daughter, then swan in here after a year and inform me you've been "just around!"

"I didn't swan in, I was forced!" The Doctor protested, his words speaking of nothing but the truth.

Rose looked horrified from her seat opposite the two warring parties. She took a sip of the amaretto which her mother had placed in her assigned seat, and swallowed slowly, delicately and carefully. "The pair of you; just stop it!" She commanded loudly, sternly, and almost viciously. "Mum; he didn't take me; you make it sound like he goes round routinely abducting shop girls, or something!"

"How do I know that he-" Jackie started with more than a hint of bitterness concealed behind her words. Rose had not finished, and remained desperate to have her say and complete it as planned.

"Mum; I chose to go with him, me! Any objection you've got; I suggest you direct it at me!"

Jackie took in a gulp of air, releasing it soon afterwards by means of her nose. This did not alleviate the seemingly cruel, torturing, punishing atmosphere that it seemed no amount of time would be capable of penetrating. "So, where have you been all this time?"

The Doctor looked to have more than slight reserves at confiding in Jackie the capabilities of his ship, and glanced down at the less than appetising pile which was slumped over most of his plate.

"Mum, we met Charles Dickens!" Rose recalled enthusiastically, digging her fork back into her portion of the shepherd's pie. "He's so nice!"

The Doctor finally sensed that this was as good a opportunity to ease back into a remotely tolerable conversation as he was likely to receive within the foreseeable future, and added, rather unwisely, "Yeah; not to mention the fact that he saved our lives."

"HE was left to save MY daughter's life!" Jackie boomed, repeating the blatantly obvious. You're supposed to keep her safe while you go off gallivanting through the times, and it's left to someone who doesn't even know her!"

Rose sighed; the Doctor appeared to have blown all chances with her mum now; not that there was much of one in the beginning. Civilised, the Doctor and companion's mothers, civilised? The prospect was laughable. "Mum," she pleaded gently, circling the table at which they sat in order to place a comforting palm on her shoulder. "He has saved my life; when I was kidnapped and drugged, when the sun was expanding…"

"So he should!" spat a bitter woman, incapable of compliments; it would seem. "He's the one that got you into all of this."

"I want to see what's out there… sometimes yeah… it's a bit dangerous," lied Rose, fully aware that she and the Doctor hadn't yet managed to share a danger free day together, at any time or on any planet in the whole of time and space. The danger too was intense; adventures with the Doctor seemed to have been bathed in it while the planet or time prepared for the arrival of the two travellers. "If it gets dangerous, he gets me out of it. We look out for each other, that's the way it works…"

--

The Doctor had never been so keen to reclaim his jacket as he was while he stood in the Tyler hallway. He dived instinctively into the cupboard which Rose had pointed out to him earlier that evening, while he called back, "Thanks for a lovely meal, Jackie." Shoving his arms carelessly into the relevant holes, he fastened it swiftly around himself and turned back. Holding an arm out for his companion, the door slammed to a close under the force applied by his foot.

Sometimes, a small lie had, in the past, proven to be a necessity. It was no different in this case. Never again would he, the Doctor; the last of the time lords, be forced by any human apes to endure the almost endless hell of being a reluctant guest at a companion's mother's dinner table, in what may as well have been a rendition of 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears,' when the frankly appalling quality of the food was taken into consideration.