Her Own Private Island

Soft, tapping steps and it was not the Doctor she heard on the veranda, but close enough for Rose to be satisfied.

She stayed on the sofa, curled under a plump duvet and holding a mug of hot chocolate between her hands. One of the large glass doors leading outside slid back smoothly, and Susan stepped inside.

"I've checked the readings again and we'll have to move soon. The lava flow's shifted, the shields won't be able to hold that back for long."

Rose nodded. It was always the same. They were far from both their times, back when the universe was young and quiet and innocent of life. Fierce, savage forces tore across the few worlds that had coalesced into solid spheres, and they were welcome on none of them.

Still, Rose loved it here. There were no terrors to face, only survival to fight for, and even if she had wished to leave, she could not.

She looked outside, watching a gentle wind tickle the leaves of the apple tree, now nearing full bloom. This house was all that was left of Susan's TARDIS, and the gardens were a clever use of the chameleon circuit. All the energies needed to maintain the almost infinite internal dimensions had gone to protecting them from this hostile universe. The power waned, ever more slowly as Susan's ingenuity converted superheated rock and continental shift and gravity into usable energy, and it was enough to keep them alive. Enough to move them through all of space, but never time.

And Rose's suggestion that they should try to create their own black hole to gain access to the energy required had been met by a look from Susan that had sent her into delighted giggles. How like the Doctor she could be, and yet she could never imagine him here, like this. Even if it was a very peculiar sort of domesticity.

Rose took a sip of her hot chocolate, and stared at the blank TV. There were plenty of video files in the TARDIS databanks, enough to keep her occupied for several lifetimes, but daytime TV was one luxury she couldn't have: there wasn't any Trisha in the archive as far as she could see.

"Any repairs for me?" she called as the silence gave way to a persistent hum. Susan, practically, kept a small lab next to the kitchen.

"Just a minute!"

Rose shrugged and downed the rest of the hot chocolate before wrapping the duvet tightly round herself and shuffling into the kitchen to rinse out the mug.

Susan appeared in the doorway, neatly dressed, though her boots had impractically high heels that would do nothing to help her weak ankles. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Bedtime?" asked Rose innocently, before sticking out her tongue. "How long have we got then?"

"Couple of days. We could stay here, materialise a few miles north."

"It's a nice view," said Rose, throwing a look out the window at the hot lava oozing past not twenty metres away.

"But I'd rather give the shields a bit of a rest. I've found a brand new barren planetoid, right at the edge of the universe." Rose pulled a face. "Yes, I know, but it'll only be for a few weeks. And you'll be able to heat the swimming pool."

"Now that's just silly. How can it be so hot outside and yet we can't heat a few thousand litres of water?"

Susan gave her a very patient look, and then said, "Anyway, after you get dressed, and you'd better, there are a couple of circuits that should probably be replaced, just general maintenance."

Rose frowned, her manner was too offhand. "Which systems?" she asked.

Susan looked down at her list. "The time vector generator."

"Oh, okay. Fluid links, right?"

Susan nodded, and quickly hurried through the rest of the repairs. Bit daft really, thought Rose, it'd be more sensible to cannibalise all the time components for other systems, even if they were too deep in the past.

And it was dangerous to meddle so far back in time, according to Susan. Just coming here had been forbidden by the Time Lords during the sunset of their own Dark Age. There was no way to know if anyone had picked up where the Time Lords had left off; no way to tell if anyone else could penetrate the defences that kept this era safe from interference. But though they would not admit it, neither Rose nor Susan was quite ready to give up hope of finding a way out, or finding someone else who could.

Susan cooked that night, and as they ate she taught Rose how to recognise the flaws in a dematerialisation circuit. "It's complicated," she said in between mouthfuls of hot tomato soup and crusty bread. "But if you can keep it in good order you can let almost everything else fall to pieces and you'll probably be alright." And Rose listened, quietly and patiently.

By the time they finished their artificial night had fallen, and Rose was ready to sleep, leaving Susan to read in the library. Hours later, she felt her slip quietly into bed. Rose was only half-awake, but still aware enough to slide towards Susan and pull her slight body close.

Susan sighed, and placed a warm kiss on the hand resting on her shoulder. Rose opened her eyes. The room was bathed in burnt red light, and Susan had tilted her head so she could stare out of the window.

When she realised Rose was watching her, she asked, "Why do you never shut the curtains?"

Rose just smiled, turning on her side to look down at Susan. Her hair, black, soft, curling delicately between her fingers; her eyes, so wonderfully light, so knowing. She was younger-older than Rose, and she was dying, gently.

But Rose has been here before, she knew what regeneration was and she would help her when the time came. She had seen it all before, after all.