Wabana
by ErtheChilde
'Your faith is something I prize very highly.'
Disclaimer:
This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright the BBC. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books and graphic novels, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. There may or may not be a curse in your future as well, so be warned. Remembered all things come in threes, good and bad. Plagiarizing is considered bad.
Warning:
Spoilers : If it existed in any form of Doctor Who canon, whether television, novelization or graphic novel, it's probably going to be mentioned in here. That includes up to and including 12th/13th/Whatever Doctor Adventures.
No Beta : I am beta-less at the mo', so any mistakes are my own. I edit as I go, though, so it shouldn't be too bad.
Canadian-Writing-British:As a Canadian, I'm not all-knowing when it comes to British idioms, sayings or slang. I write what sounds right to my ears and when it doubt, I look things up on the Internet, so I might not always get it right. If I'm way off about something, please drop me a line and I'll correct it.
ONE
The Doctor grimaced at himself in the mirror, trying to make sure that he'd managed to get the last of the Ccalras bile off of his skin. He'd already scrubbed himself raw, but with ears like his, he wouldn't be surprised if some of the stuff stayed in the hardest-to-reach places.
His attempts at bringing Rose out for a nice brunch after their rather grim adventures on Thedas hadn't exactly gone to plan…
Striding into his room, he threw on whatever was closest (and cleanest), pausing only when he accidentally grabbed two jumpers instead of one. For a tenth of a second he considered which one to wear – Rose liked the green one, but he had an irrational fondness for the maroon one, something he attributed to the fact he'd been wearing that when he met her – before he realized what he was doing.
Time Lords did not choose their clothing based on the preferences of their companions.
He scowled and reached for a completely different jumper, not even bothering to look at the colour, and stalked from the room.
He very deliberately didn't think on the near lapse into…domesticity. In fact, in order to make sure it didn't happen again, they should hurry up and land the TARDIS somewhere interesting. Or dangerous. Or in need of saving. It was the best way to remind himself and anyone else who might wonder about it that he was anything but tame.
He'd been meaning to see if the Land of Fiction had survived the War. He'd rather like to introduce Rose to some of the literary characters in the books she'd taken to reading.
Upon entering the galley for a cup of tea, though, his plans came to a halt when he found his pink and yellow friend sitting at the table, face in one hand and her brows drawn in either frustration or wistfulness.
Either one could mean a trip to see her mother in his near future; considering it had been almost two months since their last visit, he wouldn't even be able to put up much of a fight over it.
Clearly she needed a distraction too, and he was just about to suggest it, when she suddenly spoke up.
'Doctor, how long've we been travelling together?'
It sounded like the beginning of one of those rhetorical, entrapment style questions that the females of most species were so fond of and which led to rows if not answered properly. Not that he'd purposefully been paying attention to such menial cultural practices, but it was hard not to notice patterns like that when he was forced to sit through marathons of EastEnders whenever they ended up back at the Powell Estate while Rose did her laundry.
Alright, so it had only been the once, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen again. Which made it a very important reason why visiting her mother was a bad idea.
He decided to play the oblivious card.
'Depends. Are we talking relative time or subjective time? And are we calculating on Terran measurements or by the arbitrary diurnal-nocturnal sequence the TARDIS seems to have adopted?' he asked with an ease he didn't really feel as he went to put the kettle on. 'Or is this about your cycle again? Because I told you, those patches I gave you should stop you from experiencing – '
There was a muffled thump and when he turned around Rose's head had fallen out of her hand and she was glaring at him, her cheeks tinged a darker pink than usual. 'No, that's not why I'm asking! And I thought we promised not to talk about that ever again?'
The Doctor shrugged. 'It's a normal biological process, Rose, I don't understand this taboo your culture associates with –'
'I'd like to know in Earth time, relative to me, from the day you asked me to come with you, how long we've been travelling,' she interrupted.
He grimaced, not because he needed time to calculate – he knew it down to the exact picosecond, though he wasn't about to tell her that – but because he couldn't figure out why she wanted that information. What did it matter how long they had been travelling together?
Was she trying to figure out when would be an acceptable time to leave him?
No, she'd have come out and said it if that was it.
'Doctor?' she prompted. 'Wasn't meant to be a brain buster, you know.'
'Sixty-nine days and six hours, give or take a few minutes,' he answered, satisfied that he managed to turn the cautious note in his voice to detachment as he spoke.
'Hm. I thought it was something like that.'
He shot her a questioning look. 'Then why ask me?'
'Well, I wanted to be sure. And you're a Time Lord, so you're more precise, yeah?'
'And why'd you want to be sure?'
'Because we left on the seventh of March, right? Well, if it's been about seventy days since then, then back home it's May 16th.'
'So?'
'So, that means my birthday was nineteen days ago,' she explained. 'We were so busy with the clock man and then on Thedas I didn't even notice.' She made a face. 'I've been a year older for over two weeks. Or is it two years older? I did miss twelve months...'
He winced internally at the reminder of that particular blunder, and then shrugged. 'You can count your age from anything. I count it from when I started travelling in the TARDIS.'
'You mean you're older than nine hundred?!'
'Not in the ways that count,' he rushed to assure her before she ask him how old he really was. He already must seem ancient to someone still in her teens. 'I don't think I was really alive until I left in the TARDIS.'
Rose was quiet for a moment, and then softly remarked, 'I don't think I was really alive 'til…that night at Henricks.'
The way she paused, they were both aware of the "until I met you" that she had meant to say.
Despite himself, his eyes sought out hers, and for a weighted moment something he had no name for passed between them. Before he could try to quantify it, he was already trying to pretend it hadn't happened.
'Well, then, sixty-nine and a quarter days old but nineteen biologically,' he declared, grinning at her. 'Happy Birthday.'
She chuckled, the moment forgotten. 'Cheers.'
'So what do you lot do on your birthdays, anyhow?'
'I dunno. I usually just go down to the pub with my mates, eat loads of junk food…maybe do karaoke. That sort of thing.' A pause. 'Can't exactly head home to celebrate this one, though, can I? Everyone thinks it's already happened.'
'Sounds boring anyway.'
'S'not as if I've got the money to do much else, is there?'
He shot her an unimpressed look. 'Rose. TARDIS. We can do anything you want.'
'Well, yeah, now, but –'
'So what d'you want to do?'
Best not let her dwell on her less-than-opulent upbringing; that usually made her either defensive or self-conscious.
"I…I dunno,' she admitted. 'We do amazing every day. It's like every day's my birthday, when you think about it.'
'No arguments here. But we should still make it an occasion,' he decided. He clapped his hands together, a plan already beginning to form. 'So – food, fun and friends. Think I can manage that!'
Rose looked speculative. 'So does that mean I should make sure to bring my trainers and a lock pick?'
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