Series 3 AU with Rose! This is a sequel to my stories, "The Girl in the Stalking Spaceship" through "Gridlock" (but without "Through the Gloom and Doom").
June 2018: When I first published my AU take on these two episodes in 2008 ("Daleks in Manhattan"/"Evolution of the Daleks"), there were a lot of kind reviewers who appreciated the little moments I was able to weave in, the little changes that were made with Rose being there. There were also some who - very bluntly but not unkindly - pointed out that I was mostly just writing out a transcript and switching the lines around to stick Rose into it - for which honesty I was and am extremely grateful. TEN YEARS LATER, I hope I've gained enough perspective for this experiment: I'm redoing both stories. I want to keep as many of my (and my reviewers') favorite moments as I can, but I'm taking a chainsaw to the original script - that never really worked well for me, to begin with. Special thanks to Dead Composer and samanyana!
As yet un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise, I don't own Doctor Who. Nor do I get anything from writing these stories - except wonderful, constructive reviews! Wink, wink; nudge, nudge ;)
Chapter 1 - Trick of the Time Lords
CRASH!
Rose halted in the TARDIS' corridor, wondering what it was, this time. It sounded more like pots and pans than any mechanical troubles.
Sure enough, she heard the Doctor's muffled shouts and what might be Martha's apologies or - consolation - coming from just around the bend. Rose shook her head, as she continued towards the kitchen, hoping to still be able to get some breakfast.
It was amazing to Rose that Martha had actually agreed to give the Doctor another chance for "just one more trip", before they would take her home. Even after witches, and kidnapping, and dragons (and their rotten eggs...), Martha was still willing to give it one more shot. Of course, she couldn't be sure how long Martha's positive attitude might last, in the face of whatever mischief the Doctor had gotten into this time, right here on his ship.
In a few more steps, Rose was able to make out most of their words.
"But what's the Matter?" Martha asked.
"I've got to change," the Doctor replied. "Completely change!"
Cold dread settled in Rose's stomach as she broke into a run, her heart pounding; even as Martha asked, "Whaddya mean, change?"
The kitchen doorway was in sight, now, and Rose could see the Doctor staggering backwards, out into the corridor. "Doctor!" she called, bringing herself up just short of knocking into him. "What's goin' on? What happened?" she begged, gripping his arm, tightly.
The Doctor turned to her, a look of terror on his face. "This!" he answered, holding his open hands at his sides. "This happened!"
Rose took a step back and looked him over quickly, searching for any sign of injury. All she could make out were some darker patches on his brown, pinstriped suit - some sort of wetness. It didn't look like blood. She reached her hand out to touch -
"Careful!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Yech, don't touch it!" he whined with a look of disgust, as she did just that.
Rose - carefully - brought her hand up, smelling the liquid. "Fruit juice?" she asked, completely baffled.
"Oh, no," the Doctor corrected, shaking his head. "Not just fruit juice."
Rose waited a beat for him to explain. "What is it?" she asked, when his dramatic pause didn't end on its own.
"Pear juice," the Doctor at last sneered.
Martha stepped into view, holding out a wet dish towel towards the Doctor. "I said I'm sorry," she offered. "Can't ya just dab it out? It's not a huge spill."
The Doctor spun back to face Martha. "Dab it out?!" he repeated, incredulously. "It's gonna take at least six laundry cycles - at the very least - to get rid of this. And that's saying something. Even the rotten dragon egg goop washed out in just one go."
Laundry. Spill. Change. Completely change...
"Pear juice?!" Rose exclaimed.
"See?" the Doctor asked Martha, gesturing towards Rose. "She knows."
Rose lunged at him. "I know you can be a right idiot, that's what I know!" she shouted, slapping at the arms he'd defensively raised in front of his face. "You had me thinkin'... Ugh! That it was a lot worse than pear juice!"
Rose shoved him a pace or two away; aware that Martha was watching them, mouth agape.
The Doctor tentatively lowered his arms, while Rose tucked her hair back out of her face, forcing herself to take a single, deep breath. She still glared at him. "Of all the things you've put in your mouth, 's not like ya go lickin' the front of your suit," she concluded, more calmly, but with her heart still racing from the scare.
"But the smell, Rose. The smell!" he whined. "How'd it even get on the TARDIS?" he asked, pulling at his hair in his frustration.
Rose glanced into the kitchen, catching sight of the juice carton among the displaced cookware. It was a pineapple-something blend that she'd grabbed on a random grocery run, most likely without reading the fine print on the ingredients. Choosing to ignore his question, Rose observed, "You've got selective smellin', I know you've gotta. Some of the places we've been - that Tryp- Thryp-"
"Thlryptdontia," the Doctor supplied.
"Thryptontia -"
"Thl-r-r-ypt-don-tia," he enunciated.
She waved him off. "That one. Ya had those little, purple monkey-birds climbin' all over, sittin' on your head, an' ya told me," she said, pointing to herself, "to get over my 'human perceptions' an' think about 'how they must smell to each other'."
The Doctor looked long at Rose, and she thought that maybe she'd gotten through to him just a little bit, and maybe he'd even be gracious enough to apologize. "But what has that got to do with pear?!" he asked, instead, looking down at himself, again. "It's even on my shoe!"
Martha edged away, back into the kitchen. Rose gave the Doctor another look, then followed her in. "Fine, you go an' change," she told him, dismissively. "Martha's waitin' on ya to make good on an impressive, relaxin' trip somewhere, but you jus' go an' start your laundry! Good thing you've got Howard's old, blue one," she added towards the doorway, sitting down at the kitchen table with a wide-eyed Martha. "Last time his suit needed multiple washes, he didn't come outta his room for a day an' a half," Rose explained; probably without explaining nearly enough, going by Martha's expression.
It was really starting to sink in for Martha: the Doctor was an alien.
So he'd said, and Rose had said, and the space-rhino Judoon had said, and so his two hearts and the TARDIS itself should make her realize. Still, he looked and acted - for the most part - so human!
But as Rose had helped tidy up the kitchen and lay out a small breakfast, she'd told Martha what had gotten her so mad at the Doctor over the spilled juice. For just a moment, Rose had thought the Doctor was actually dying. And that when a Time Lord is dying, they could... save themselves by changing, "regenerating". Rose had even described the Doctor as she'd first known him; to all appearances, a completely different man.
"But then we met the Daleks again," Rose told her, "an', long story short, he saved my life, but it cost 'im his own."
"I'm sorry," Martha told her, sensing there was indeed a much, much longer story behind what Rose had shared.
To be continued...
Can I get away with the chapter title if I claim it refers to selective smelling/ventriloquism of the nose skills?
Oh, and I've retro'ed an explanation of the Doctor's brown/blue suits into the first chapter of "The Smiths and Miss Jones", in case you're interested.
