John Smith stared at the picture his fingers had unwittingly drawn on the pages in front of him. It shocked him that he could sketch a woman he hardly knew with such precision while his mind wandered. This woman with the full lips and deep charcoal rimmed eyes. This woman with a melodious laugh and a haunting smile; this woman named Rose. This woman who felt like home, but shouldn't.
While his hand had developed a mind of it's own, his real mind had been thinking about the disturbing dreams he'd been having-- dreams that made no sense and had no place in reality. He'd started having these dreams about the same time he'd come to work at the school. They always had a strange blue box that was bigger on the inside than the outside, and all sorts of horrifying creatures. And without fail he seemed to be someone other than himself. A man without principle and yet was more moral than he could imagine a person being. A man who wore strange clothing and who said odd things and had peculiar mannerisms, this man they called the Doctor. This man who felt like home, but shouldn't.
He slowly caressed the woman's face, feeling like there was something he should remember but didn't, and then closed the journal and turned out the light.
Rose watched the Doctor from a distance—always from a distance. She hated this charade, even though she knew it was necessary. She watched him flirt with Joan. She was a nurse and a perfectly proper choice for a school teacher. He was telling her some odd random fact that no one would really care about but he seems to be completely fascinated by it. Joan seemed to be, as well. Rose was concerned about what it would do to the poor woman when she took her Doctor back—which she would. But mostly she was jealous; jealous of the attention Joan was receiving—attention that should be hers. Even as a bumbling, awkward human, the Doctor was still shameless.
"Lost in the stars again, Rose?" Jenny, a fellow maid, asked from her position of scrubbing the floors next to Rose.
"Wha? Oh, yeah, sorry. I tell ya, Jenny, one day? One day I'm going to go to the stars," Rose replied, coming back to reality-- well what was passing for reality.
"Yeah, you keep dreaming. Me, I'm gonna finish scrubbin' these floors that them school boys love to muck up, then I'm going to go enjoy myself a cup of tea and a good gossip."
Rose cringed, knowing that the gossip she referred to would surround that of the suspected romance between one school nurse and one school teacher.
Joan felt slightly uncomfortable looking at the picture in front of her. John had handed her his journal, encouraging her to read the amazing adventures he'd dreamed up. He must have forgotten, however, when he handed it to her the sketch he'd made on top of one particularly fascinating escapade. The woman on the page stared back at her, and seemed to be telling she was intruding on something. That woman was the same woman now hurrying towards the west through the courtyard in front of her. That woman was the very pretty, and uncommonly clever, serving girl, Rose. Joan furrowed her brow and glanced back down at the facsimile and then the real thing.
"Perhaps he just thought she'd make a pretty picture. He was right, really. Yes, he just thought she'd make a pretty picture," Joan reassured herself. Clearly if the picture had meant something to him, he wouldn't have given her the journal. It simply wasn't proper for him to be interested in the maid, and his behaviour as of late showed very clearly his interest in herself. She closed the journal and crossed the courtyard in the opposite direction of Rose, heading back to her duties. She shouldn't be shirking her responsibilities, and neither, she noted, should Rose.
John watched Joan through the window in the library. He could see that she was reading his journal and was clearly enthralled. This pleased him for some reason. He wanted his ideas, his thoughts, his life—no not his life—his imagination, to interest her—to delight her even. He was grinning when suddenly her expression changed. She seemed to be staring very intently at the page in front of her, with a bit of frustration showing in the creases on her forehead. He watched her glance up and followed her gaze, which seemed to land on the girl rushing across the lawn. It was Rose, and suddenly he understood what had distressed the woman he was coming to love.
"Oh…Rose…Rose," he muttered to himself, torn between wonder and concern.
"What was that sir?" Jenny questioned from behind him. She entered the room to dust and swore she'd heard him whispering Rose's name.
"What? Oh, I was just thinking about how some roses in the garden certainly would brighten up this place a bit, don't you think?" John quickly covered, after recovering from the fright Jenny had given him. He'd also have to cover himself to Joan, and that filled him with dread and slight concern at the fact that he almost didn't care she'd seen the picture of the maid. Almost.
Rose had seen them kissing. She'd seen them kissing and it broke her heart. She knew he wasn't the Doctor, he was John Smith. But that didn't seem like a good enough excuse for her. They may have different names and they were even different species, but they were still the same person. The Doctor and John Smith shared at least one of the same hearts, and clearly that heart did not love Rose Tyler. She made an excuse about not feeling well and escaped to her room. She cried the rest of the night. When Jenny asked about the constant yet silent tears streaming down her face, Rose had blamed them on menstrual cramps. Jenny seemed to understand but was slightly uncomfortable from the mention of something so very…unmentionable, and Rose was once again reminded that this was not her world. And she was ready to have her world back.
Rose rushed into the TARDIS, tears streaming down her face. Things were falling apart all around her. She needed the doctor. She rushed to the console and switched on the power to the video the Doctor had left for her. She watched his animated features and listened to his familiar voice—all the nuances that had been missing since he'd turned himself human. She smirked at some insane thing he was mumbling about and then reached out and stroked his face on the screen, resolved to do what she must now that she'd seen the Doctor, the real Doctor. She quickly switched off the monitor and marched out of the TARDIS, determination in every step.
Joan couldn't believe the behaviour of the maid standing in front of her and John. Rose was acting completely erratic. She had been claiming that the tales in John's journal were true, and that it was time for him to switch back because he had to save the world or some such nonsense. Joan could admit that world seemed to be turned on its end. Children with guns, neighbors killing each other, the frightening behaviour of people she knew well, but she could not admit that this had anything to do with the man she loved. She could only believe it was some sort of crazy jealousy on the part of the maid, and she was now using the chaotic behaviour to distract John with unfathomable tales of heroics. She glanced over at John to confirm that he too viewed this outbreak of Rose's as complete insanity but was shocked when she saw the look on his face. It was confusion, and not confusion over what is going on, both with Rose and with the townspeople, but the kind of confusion that crosses one's features when they know the answer someone is looking for, but they can't quite remember—tip of the tongue confusion.
She frantically looked back at Rose and "reality" began to set in, as unreal as it seemed. The girl was completely distraught. She was clearly filled with desperation, and something more…something akin to longing. It was then that Joan decided to relinquish her hold on the heart of whoever this man next to her was. He didn't belong here. He belonged with the serving girl. He belonged with Rose, in Rose's world—whatever that was.
"You knew this all along and yet you watched while Nurse Redford and I…" John cried, searching desperately for Joan's eyes. She was avoiding him. Why was she avoiding him?! He needed her! He loved her!
"I didn't know how to stop you, he gave me a list of things to watch out for, but that wasn't included!" Rose shouted back.
"Falling in love, that didn't even occur to him?"
"No!"
"Then what sort of a man is that?" he demanded.
"The kind of man that didn't think he'd need to keep himself from falling in the love, the kind of man that was already…" Rose stopped herself before she voiced an assumption that could very well be wrong, "The Doctor knows everything about love. He knows more about love than anyone I've ever met! The Doctor would sacrifice everything to save one person or a million people. He seen thousands of people he doesn't know die and he's grieved for the deaths of those thousands of people he doesn't know. He's seen thousands survive and celebrated the beauty of thousands of saved lives. He has seen all of time, and he knows everything that can possibly be known about love! And you? Who are you? You won't even look into a silly ol' fob watch to save the woman you claim to love! Not that it matters! You've lost the watch! You, John Smith, are a spineless coward and I am sick of you! I want my Doctor back, and this world needs him. You want to know what the Doctor knows of love?! I'll show you what the Doctor knows of love!" Rose shouted passionately at the man who made her angrier than any other man, but even though he was once again in a "foreign" body, she still loved him. Oh, but she loved him. She'd always love him, and now she was gonna show him, and she was going to get the Doctor back or die trying. Which was very possible with how stubborn this carbon copy was being.
John was completely shocked when the furious blonde stormed towards him and yanked his face down to her own. It took several moments for him to realize the frantic movement against his mouth was her lips. She was kissing him. He stood completely still while she assaulted his lips. He couldn't believe she was kissing him, and right in front of Joan! This forward thinking maniac was completely unnerving! He started to pull away when he felt her pull him closer. The movement surprised him and he started to concentrate on what was actually happening. He could feel her trembling in his arms that had at some point and quite automatically encased her in an embrace. He felt her wet tears streak his face. He heard her whimper every once and a while and whisper "Doctor" into his lips that he now realized he had parted. He could feel her warm full lips tug on his cold lower lip and he instinctively shivered and whispered her name. Rose. She instantly reacted and started kissing him more passionately. It felt like his entire body was on fire with desire for this woman in front of him. Rose. Rose.
He pulled her closer wanting to taste more of her. She pulled her lips away and started feathering kisses across his jaw, his throat, and his eyes. He breathed in deeply the scent of her hair. And then nuzzled her neck before recapturing her lips with his own. He knew his behaviour was completely irrational but he couldn't seem to control himself once she'd opened the flood gates.
She pulled away and placed her forehead against his chest. He put his chin on the top of her head and pulled her close, a position that felt achingly familiar.
"Damn you, John Smith. Damn you, Doctor!" She muttered harshly into his body and then softly punched his shoulder.
"Damn us all, Rose. Damn us all," he murmered into her hair before casting an apologetic look towards Joan.
Just then they heard a knock on the door.
Joan looked away from the couple with a painful regret before going to open the door. She was certain the invaders wouldn't have knocked so she felt fairly safe greeting the newcomer. Outside the door was Tim Latimer holding an old pocket watch. She quietly stepped out of the way to let him in and even she couldn't help but smile at the look of pure joy on Rose's face and the resolution on John, no the Doctor's face. She was fairly certain she loved him, but that didn't seem to matter. His heart clearly belonged to someone else, he just hadn't remembered. She was sure she'd needed to fall in love again, to know it could be done after the loss of her husband, and now she was prepared to move forward, and she knew she could, because with this small watch, John Smith was going to save the world.