Will be a series of little shots from Doomsday to Turn Left. The Doctor belongs to Rose, Rose belongs to the Doctor...nuff said.
He had dialled the number without consciously meaning to. On impulse really he had parked the TARDIS somewhere insignificant and had collapse onto the edge of the grate, the TARDIS phone almost magically in his hand, the number ringing.
He vaguely recalled pulling the cord across to where he sat and absently wondering why of all things, it wasn't cordless. He had a futuristic time machine and it didn't have a cordless phone. Bit pathetic really.
The phone attempted to connected to the number for just a second, a dial tone ringing for only a moment before it cut quickly and a voice spoke, Rose's voice spoke, a voice he thought lost to this universe forever yet there it lingered, programmed into that one number.
"Hey, this is Rose. I'm busy. Running probably."
The Doctor couldn't help give a grin, a sad grin, but a grin all the same.
"If this is Mum, don't panic. If this is Mickey just don't give up on a call back, please. If this is the Doctor..." she gave a little snort and he could just picture her shaking her head at him, a wide smile on her face, "I'm sorry but 'don't wander off'' is a real rubbish rule. Ah, mmm...if you're anybody else, don't expect a call back anytime soon and…cue beep!"
The voicemail gave the obligatory sharp beep and the phone went silent, the Doctor's throat dry and his mouth unwilling to open. What an inappropriately perfect time for his gob to go on strike. Here was an ample opportunity to talk to Rose without awkward embarrassing questions thrown back at him. There had been a time, nearly two years in fact, when it seemed that that was all he did, avoid questions with a brisk change of subject, oh, he was good at those. But now, right now and probably from now 'till forever, he would give anything to hear her voice again. He'd answer any question, any. Except maybe that of his affection with Baloovian Apple Jam. She really didn't need to know the story behind that. Really.
Instead everything was silent. The silence echoed for eons and he gradually found that the glue sticking his tongue firmly to the roof of his mouth had begun to dislodge. He licked his lips with said tongue, glancing around the empty TARDIS as if checking to see that no one else was around before finally speaking.
"It's funny really," he began quietly, almost too quietly for him, "But I almost thought you'd actually pick up. There was the slightest possibility that the connection could reach across the..."
He trailed off and shook his head with a snort, laughing at his bout of pathetic desperation, his voice returning to its normal blabbering self.
"Oh, what am I talking about...of course it can't reach across the void. It is good, but it's not that good. Frankly I'm surprised the voicemail is still connected to the number."
He ran a hand across his face then jumped up suddenly, finding this quite a moment to pace, the stupid cord dragging after him as the phone attached to it stayed by his ear.
"It's Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas Rose. I do wonder if you're all in that big house, sitting under a tree, exchanging gifts? I got you a present you know. Well, I made it actually. But that was before…"
His sighed, realising he'd done a lap around the console and would probably become hopelessly tangled with the phone cord if he continued in this manner so changed direction, winding the cord around his finger slightly, "Has your mum given birth yet?" he asked, an unexpected grin spread across his face.
"Gods, imagine a pregnant Jackie Tyler, I'm half glad I'm not there." He immediately regretted saying that and came to a sudden stop, leaning against the console, "Is it snowing in Pete's World? I made it snow for Donna."
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head warily, "Yeah, Donna, god, what a horrid woman. I don't mean that of course, not really. She was...something to wake me up..." he was silent for a good few moments as a wave of self pity swept over him.
It took a moment to realise he was wallowing but, when he did cotton on to the fact he immediately frowned and propelled himself of the console, resuming the laps around it with false vigour in his voice, "Saving the world at Christmas Rose, not in my jimjams this year, not with you this year either. But Donna was nice, Donna was good. We drained the Thames..."
He trailed off and collapsed onto the captain's seat, "I asked her to come with me. Apparently I scare her. I..." he kicked his feet up onto the console and blew a raspberry, letting his breath out in one long sigh.
"I just hope you're happy…how's Torchwood? I can't really imagine you with your name on an office door. Of course, no measly cubical for you. No, straight to the top, TARDIS travel ensures that sort of thing, must do, hope it does. I..."
There was a sudden beep as the recording space ended and the Doctor blinked, staring down at the phone in his hand as if he was confused that noise had magically emanated from it.
With a small helpless shrug he stood and slotted the phone back into its place on the console before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small wrapped package, long and shaped rather like a pencil, a small red bow tied messily on the top. He placed it carefully on the centre of the captain's seat and stared down at it for a moment knowing it would never be opened.
"Merry Christmas Rose Tyler."
R&R :) And anyone want to guess what the present is?!