"Traxafargon! The next destination on our list!" The Doctor cries, running around the console of the TARDIS. Rose smiles passively at the wild man. His light brown coat flaps behind him as he dashes here and there, instructing her to hold down a lever or press a button every so often. Slowly, by observation, Rose is learning to fly the TARDIS. Usually, when the Doctor is tinkering under the console and Rose is curled up on the jump seat with another rag magazine, she'll be paying attention to what the Timelord is doing and will ask him questions about what each thing does. If she doesn't understand something he says during his extremely long speech about the device or machinery, Rose will make a mental note of it and go look it up later. This can take anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours depending on how complex the object of her curiosity is.
"I didn't even know we had a list," Rose responds, her tongue between her teeth. Her keen eyes watch the Doctor's movements and memorizes the order in which he flips switches, presses buttons, and bangs on the console with his funny rubber mallet. Each time he does so, Rose flinches, because the TARDIS doesn't like it and finds it unnecessary.
"You cheeky woman," the man with big brown hair and warm chocolate eyes smiles at her. Her pulse stutters slightly, just like it does every time he gives her that smile, "Of course we have a list. Or rather I have a list. You get little or no say in where we go."
"And neither do you," Rose replies, laughing, "She takes us where we need to go, not where we want to go."
The Doctor starts to pout at Rose's contradictory words. She's clever, more clever than he gives her credit for.
"Oh all right, what's on Traxafargon?"
"Well, Traxafargons of course! As well as these delectable nibbles that are, quite honestly, to die for. And they may or may not have some of the best chips in the universe." The Doctor gives her that smile again and the butterflies in her stomach flutter.
"Di'you say chips?" Rose grows excited, "Real, proper chips? Not those nasty ones from Mickey D's or anything but real chips?"
"Yep," the 'p' pops, "Like I said, best in the universe." The TARDIS lands with her familiar bong and sudden silence.
"That landing was rather good, dontcha think?" Rose teases.
"Yes it was," the Doctor preens, "I must be getting better at this."
"Or it was 'cause I helped," Rose raises an eyebrow and her eyes glint with mischievousness.
He huffs in response before leading the way outside, "Come along, Rose Tyler. Allons-y!" Rose laughs and follows the Timelord outside, before immediately freezing and raising her hands.
They are surrounded by soldiers. Or at least that's what Rose assumes they are. They are short and look a little like Sontarans, kind of potato-y, but these soldiers don't wear metal body suits or have bald heads. Traxafargons are a nice green color with blonde hair, lighter than her own. They have large purple eyes and squashed noses and fat lips. They are short and squat and kind of cute in Rose's opinion. They all possess strange pistol-like weapons, aimed at Rose and the Doctor, except that the ends look like the bulbs of a child's rattle.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" One of the Traxafargons ask. This one has a gold badge on its lapel and a blonde mustache. It's voice is very high-pitched and Rose starts choking, trying not to laugh.
"I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose. We came to get some chips," the Doctor tells Mustache, his brows drawn down in confusion.
"We are in the middle of a war with the Sontarans!" Mustache cries, his voice going even more shrill. Rose can feel her face turning red from the suppressed laughter. The Doctor throws her a sly grin which almost makes her resolve crumble.
"Sorry, didn't know that. We just landed and didn't mean to land here. Actually, we'll just step back inside our spaceship and fly away."
"But what if you go to tell the Sontarans!? You could be their spy!" Mustache shrieks.
"We won't! We promise!" The Doctor cries back. Rose is stuttering and her ribcage feels like it's about to shatter from holding her breath.
"You're absolutely right you won't!" Mustache shifts the aim of his weapon to Rose and blasts her with a blinding pink light. The laughter stops immediately.
"NO!" the Doctor shouts, "I thought you were peaceful! No killing!"
"We didn't kill her! Take that as your warning Doctorman. Next time you show up, that'll happen to you!" Mustache gestures with his weapon towards the TARDIS, "Go on. Back into your spaceship with you!"
The Doctor stoops down and picks up the pile of Rose's clothes left on the ground right outside the TARDIS, before embarking on his ship again. Tears prickle his eyes as the doors bang shut behind him and he rests the absurdly heavy heap of clothing on the jump seat. With the groan and wheeze that is solely the TARDIS's engines, the Doctor suspends himself in the Time Vortex.
With a sigh, he slumps on the jump seat beside Rose's clothing and stares at the ground, his hands between his knees.
"What am I going to tell your mother?" the Doctor asks the textiles. It stirs beside him but he does not notice, "She'll kill me she will. No regeneration for me."
"What's regenderation?" a small voice asks at his side. Startled, the Doctor falls off of the jump seat and stares in shock at the small person sitting there. In the middle of Rose's clothing, wearing her big shirt, is a small girl with big whiskey colored eyes and pink shell lips. Light blonde hair that matches her eyebrows hangs in soft curls around the child's face.
"Rose?" the Doctor asks, hushed.
"Yeah?" the little girl responds, "what's regnederation, mister?"
"It's when I change my face to a different one." The Doctor responds, still stunned. Rose clambers down from the jump seat, the blue shirt she wears hanging down below her knees.
"Rose, how old are you?"
She holds up her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, "This many."
Realization settles over the Doctor, he's going to have to take care of a small child while he tries to figure out how to change her back to an adult. Oh gosh.