Disclaimer: Doctor who is not mine, if it was David would probably be living in my basement right now.
Author's Note: A little bit of Rose introspection, Set just after World War Three. Italicised quotation taken from the episode.
The Only Way to Fly.
"But right now there's this plasma storm brewing in the Horsehead Nebula. Fires are burning, ten million miles wide. I could fly the Tardis right into the heart of it, then ride the shock wave all the way out. Hurtle right across the sky, and end up anywhere. Your choice"
She could never have resisted this.
Oh there have been plenty of moments when she's thought about leaving, moments where she's wished she could go home, but then he'll look at her with those unbelievably intense eyes, eyes that have seen unimaginable wanders and horrors, and tell her about a planet on the other side of the galaxy made entirely of gold and she'll be hooked all over again. It's like a drug.
Right now, at this particular moment, it is definitely worth it. She stands at the door of the TARDIS and watches a storm tear its way across the Horsehead Nebula. It is quite the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Great swathes of golden light flash across the jet black sky before fizzling out, leaving clouds of brick red dust that swirl and glow before seemingly bursting into orange and blue flame as another burst of light appears apparently out of nothingness, forcing her to cower back and cover her eyes, to avoid being blinded. Her heart is beating so fast with the adrenalin and excitement of it that she can feel the blood pounding in her ears.
It is hellishly hot. The waves of fire and light that are licking round the TARDIS should have been enough to reduce to them to ashes of course. He did explain it to her, something to do with energy shielding, but she was too busy gazing in awe at the cosmic fireworks display to listen very closely. As long as she doesn't end up charcoal it's alright by her. There is sweat dripping down her face and neck and back, but she doesn't care, she feels, for the first time she feels alive. She might have thought that seeing the vastness of the universe would make her feel small, insignificant, but it doesn't. It makes her feel so so special, because, out of all the people on earth, she has been chosen to see all this. It doesn't get much better than that.
Sometimes it scares her though she'd never admit that to him. She remembers vividly the shock of her trip to the end of the world. Everyone there was so defiantly non-human. She likes to think of herself as a pretty broad minded person, but that still took a bit of getting used to. She wanders if she'd have gone with him if he'd been blue or covered in tentacles or a giant slug or something, it makes a little ashamed to think that she might very well not have. What a lot she would have missed out on. She's quite aware of the risks, once you've spent a week in which three near death experiences before breakfast is the norm the risks become hard to ignore. It is strange how little she minds about that. She supposes she is becoming used to it. The danger is all part of the fun. She doesn't ever want to stop running.
Going home if anything only made her see that more clearly. London, even a London under invasion from the Slitheen, is boring. How could it be anything else when there is a whole universe out there? She thinks of her old life- job, chips, Mickey- and she shudders. She can never go back to that. There is so much more to experience. The only thing she doesn't get is how she can have borne to go without it all that time. No, this is forever.
Then of course there is him. She doesn't feel like she's even begun to understand him. Sometimes he seems like the most frightening thing of all- when he's glaring at her, his face full of rage, other times, when ever he smiles, she finds her heart dancing, and knows she would follow him anywhere. She is only just beginning to realise that from the moment he grabbed her hand and said "Run" she didn't stand a chance. It's him that's the important thing, not the travelling, much as she loves that. Without him it might as well be one long package holiday. He knows so much more than she does, has seen so much more than she has, but, she reflects, that doesn't mean she can't teach him a thing or two.
The lights are dieing away now, it is getting slightly cooler. In a matter of seconds a great wave of energy is going sweep them off into- who knows where. It is, she thinks, a little bit like interstellar surfing. Right now she turns to him, slips her hand in his, and smiles. He gives it a quick squeeze, then turns to take a look at the last remains of the plasma flames.
"Fantastic!" he says.
And it is.
The End