A/N: Found this in my hard drive. Sent it to my dad. He read it over, laughed at the 'new model different packaging' line, and gave it a thumbs up. So here we are! I wasn't happy with GitF. At all, to be honest, so I wrote this to soothe my Ten/Rose loving heart. Somehow I even managed to make it slightly Ten/Reinette. YAY! Read and review!
Summary: After the events in the Girl in the Fireplace, Rose starts to doubt herself, her trust, and him. Ten/Rose. Ten/Reinette. Read and Review
In some ways, it didn't matter. They never lingered on past adventures of experiences. Always moving on, that was their simple motto.
But in some ways it mattered more than anything at all.
Reinette had been everything Rose wasn't. Smart, good mannered, exquisitely beautiful, accomplished. The Uncrowned Queen of France, she thought wryly. Part of Rose understood why he had fallen so quickly. Part of her accepted the past as the past, never to touch the future they could have.
Except part of her felt like someone had just twisted a rusty knife into her back.
She couldn't think, she had to get away, had to leave, had to go… Go where? Home would arouse questions- questions she really didn't want to answer. Her room would do fine, but she couldn't stay there forever. Eventually he would get worried and he'd walk on in like he always did. He waltz in and out like he had done in her own life.
Yet… would he? If she left him, even for a minute, he may go swan off and find someone new, someone better. A new model, different packaging.
Oh why did this have to be so hard?! A frustrated tear escaped her conflicted eyes. No, she couldn't cry. Once the first one came it would never stop.
There goes the cry yourself to sleep option.
With a sorrowful sigh, she shifted herself off her bed, leaving behind a pair of pink slippers and her common sense.
Mickey would be asleep by now. Good, she could wander a bit. A nice, long walk, mm, that would be lovely.
Her feet made a soft padding against the floor as she walked the long, impossible halls. One hand traced the wooden walls; the other fingered her sleep shirt and shorts.
Stupid Timelord and his stupid emotional range of about three.
Being by herself was rather lonely, but she didn't mind. If he came in she would have to abandon all thought. Stupid alien and the way he made her forget all reason.
Which, of course, was when he bumped right into her (her life was ironic and quite evil).
"Ello Rose, thought you'd gone to sleep by now," he remarked- was that exasperation she heard?
"Yeah, bad dream is all," she responded civilly.
Bad dream? This whole bloody thing was a bad dream.
"Oh."
No sorry, no embrace, no helpful smile, just a half hearted oh.
Stupid, stupid human ape.
"I was just on my way to make a cuppa, fancy one?" she lied, watching- no, monitoring- his expression carefully, "You look awful."
He did, actually, that was no lie. His hair was tousled; his eyes were sleep deprived and hollow. She waited for a spark of life. It didn't come.
"Alright," he said, walking towards the long kitchen.
Stupid, stupid emo Timelord.
What would she say?
Stupid, stupid little human.
The walk was short and tense, as if a wall had formed between them.
Which, metaphorically, it had. Just that wall wore tight corsets, more makeup than half of England, and was the King's Camilla.
Seriously, how could he fall for someone's Mistress?
Same way you fell for him.
"Why her?" Rose whispered to no one as she made her tea, "Why her?"
Why not me?
"Two sugars, milk?" she asked, remember back to their first meeting, a day embedded in her mind forever.
"You know me too well," muttered the reply, soft and distant, no sincerity at all.
Maybe. Maybe yesterday, but today was a whole new day. A whole new you.
"Here we go then," Rose said, gently putting down the two cups of tea and taking a seat across from him, "Tea."
"Yes, tea."
No emotion, no happiness.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.
"You abandoned us."
Hallelujah.
Her walls broke and the flood barriers failed, all the hurt, the betrayal, the treason spilling over in those three words. The shock in his eyes was enough, just enough to make her go on.
"You abandoned us and left me with nothing," she felt her voice become less tremulous, more accusing.
"I had to."
"Oh, you had to?" she found herself practically spit, "You couldn't let history take its course? Why?"
"I don't know," he hissed, his words poison to her metal knives.
"Yes, you do. You know fine well," she retorted, a year of unshed anger boiling within her soul.
"No, Rose, I don't!" he yelled.
"It's because you loved her."
Hallelujah.
She was on her feet now, furious tears dripping down her face.
"Y….you loved her, didn't you?" she asked. Why are you doing this, stop, you're hurting him. You're hurting yourself, stop it.
"Please," he said, quietly, forlorn, "Drop it."
"No, Doctor, I can't" the rage, the mourning, the fear, "You loved her. You loved her enough to leave the ones who had sacrificed everything for you, so you could party with a French girl who had never been told no."
Her words hurt, the honesty like ice. Five and a half hours she had stood and doubted herself. The first hour she got worried. The second hour she got tired. The third hour, her hope was slipping. The fourth hour she became frantic. The fifth hour she went numb.
"What should I have done, hmmm?" the Doctor demanded, "Let her die, let it all come down?"
"He would have," she let her voice quiver, memories of those beautiful blue eyes, remembering it all, "My Doctor."
Something snapped. It was too small to be obvious, too big to ignore. A subject lost in a desperate attempt to rewrite history- their history.
"I am him Rose," he begged, his lonely brown eyes finally, finally meeting hers. Her lip trembled, the steady drip of her teardrops hitting the tea the only constant in the eerie room.
"No, you aren't," she protested, "because he wouldn't leave me behind. He wouldn't run away and take all that I am with him."
Then the unexpected happened. With one, swift movement he got up, put his arms around her and, ever so gently, leaned down and kissed her.
Rose Tyler left the kitchen in silence. Not stunned or fluttery silence, just silence. Her conflicted mind flew from event to event, unsure.
It wasn't like she didn't appreciate his affection.
She knew it was all a lie. Too much evidence was against him. Too many tears and fights, too many reasons she shouldn't believe a word he said.
Yet, she knew one thing. Crawling into her bed, covers over her head to drown out the confusion, she began to smile. Whether he loved her or not, whether they were friends or something deeper than that. She, Rose Marion Tyler, Defender of the Earth, knew only this.
She was going to be just fine.
A/N: I wrote this at 2 pm at night in a notebook. Pretty good, considering I was half asleep while creating it, eh? What did you like? Fav line? Leave a small review! No flames… they tend to burn… For more Doctor/Rose stories (and one little OC story) click on my name! Thanks! Review!