Double Jeopardy

The Doctor was humming contentedly to himself whilst dusting the console when something very, very strange happened.

"Why didn't you wake me up? You know I love it when you do this," said Rose, as she came up behind him. "I ever tell you that your bum looks so good in these suit trousers?" She gave him a squeeze and he yelped before spinning around to face her.

"What?" he whispered, his eyes wide.

Rose giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Why was I asleep in the library anyway? Was I really that drunk last night that I can't remember where we ended up?"

"What?" he exclaimed.

She frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"I – I – Rose. What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything, what do you mean?" she asked, concerned.

She didn't remove her arms. He gently lifted his hands and cupped her biceps, pulling her arms down to her sides. "Rose, you didn't fall asleep in the library last night. You fell asleep in your room. And you didn't get drunk. You weren't drinking alcohol. We went to a concert in Hyde Park and then we came back and you went to bed and I did some maintenance on the TARDIS and when did your hair get long again?" His eyebrows suddenly leapt up his forehead as he realised. "Oh. Oh, dear."

"Doctor, you're not making sense," she said wisely, folding her arms.

"I – I think maybe we have a problem. Um. Slight issues of both miscommunication and temporal displacement."

"What?"

He let out a long breath and reached up to tug on his ear, before proclaiming apologetically, "You're not my Rose."

Rose looked outraged. "What?"

"Well, you are, but I mean – you're not. As well." He wrinkled his nose up. "It's complicated."

"Hold it right there," she said sternly. "What, exactly, are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you're not supposed to be here."

"I don't get it."

He sighed. "Rose, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four," she said slowly. "Ish."

He nodded. "Right, okay then. See, thing is, my Rose is only twenty. Ish. Just about to turn twenty-one, as a matter of fact. Which means you've been temporally misplaced. Sorry."

"So, wait, how did this happen?"

"I've no idea," he said cheerfully, putting his hands in his pockets. It was good to know that she was still with him, at twenty-four. Very, very good, actually. "But your younger self is asleep in your room, so do us all a favour and don't wake her up, eh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she huffed.

"Just that I don't want to risk causing a paradox."

"Can't do that inside the TARDIS," she pointed out.

He was stumped. "Ah. Well, okay then, what I actually meant was, I don't want her freaking out about this."

"I wouldn't freak out," Rose scoffed. "I'm not some scared little girl - "

"I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about the fact that you seemed to be, uh. Rather…um…how should I put it?" he wondered.

"Oh," Rose realised. "Right. So we aren't…we haven't…"

"You've not squeezed my left buttock before, no," he answered wryly.

She smiled. "Sorry about that."

"That's perfectly fine," he replied.

"You've no need to worry, though," she assured him. "I wouldn't freak out; I'd dance a jig in joy."

"Rose," he said carefully. "Do we really…in the future…I mean, I didn't think I…"

"Don't you want to?" she asked.

"What? Well. I…"

She tugged on his tie teasingly. "Where I'm from, you want to," she murmured.

He couldn't help but smile, even as his hearts beat triple time in fear. What was he like, in the future, if he let himself have this? It went against everything he'd been trying to rationalise in the last few months. All this time trying to fight it, to keep his distance, when he'd end up giving in a few years down the line anyway. He couldn't deny that the prospect terrified him, but it also thrilled him. "When do we…?"

"I don't reckon I should tell you that," she countered.

"You probably shouldn't, no," he exhaled roughly.

"How do I get back, anyway?"

"I don't know."

"Well you're a lot of use," she teased.

He raised his eyebrows. "Apparently I am."

"Ooh, look at that, you're actually flirting," she giggled.

"Oh, this isn't flirting," he told her. "You'd know if I were flirting."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I think I'm the best person to judge that."

He shrugged. "How's that working out for you?"

"Splendidly," she grinned. "After the first few times you kind of got the hang of it. Quite adequate, now, and I'm sure with a few more years' practice you'll be at least good."

His eyes popped out of his head. "Rose Tyler."

"You're such an easy mark," Rose laughed. "Nah, you do me just fine as you are," she reassured him.

"Is that so?" he asked, unable to keep the hint of pride out of his voice.

"Yep. You excited?"

"No," he replied. "I'm wondering what on Earth has happened, to be honest, to change my mind about this so drastically."

Rose poked him in the chest. "That's rude. Nothing catastrophic happened, all right? You just couldn't resist me any longer," she informed him, lifting her chin up.

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"So I haven't gone mad?"

"Rude again. And in denial. You're fooling no one." She leant in closer. "You've told me just how much you've always wanted me."

He swallowed hard. "Have I?"

"Yeah." Her arm wound its way around his waist. "You don't need to be scared, Doctor. I promise that you're happy. You don't regret it."

"I believe you," he said honestly. "It's just…I'd promised myself that I wouldn't…I'm trying to stop - " he cut himself off abruptly.

"Stop what?" she whispered.

"You know what."

"Well luckily for both our sake's you give up on stopping," she shrugged.

"Right. Well. Yes. Um, not that this isn't lovely, but do you think maybe you could let me go so that I can work out how to send you back?"

"Charming," she replied, sending him a flirty grin. But she dropped her arm.

He suddenly felt bereft, and couldn't help but lift his hands up to cradle her head. "Tell me one thing. Before I sort all this out."

"Yeah?" Her hands came up to cover his, keeping him right where he was.

His thumbs stroked the apples of her cheeks tenderly. "We don't lose what we have right now, do we?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we have such a lovely, comfortable relationship – friendship – and I just…we laugh and we're happy and we go on adventures and its brilliant, and I trust you with my life, but I fear that our easy way of being with each other could get lost if we complicate things."

She gave him a warm smile, and it reassured him significantly. "Doctor, you don't have to worry about that. Things are the same between us, just better."

"Yeah?" He gazed at her intently, searching her eyes.

"Yeah. Everything else – it doesn't go away just because we start having sex."

"We start having what?" exclaimed the younger Rose, who had appeared in the entrance to the console room several moments ago, not that the other two had noticed.

The Doctor and the temporally-displaced Rose spun around and looked very guilty.

Younger Rose eyed them suspiciously. "Have you two been snogging?"

"No!" the Doctor assured her vehemently.

"Probably would've done, if you hadn't've interrupted," said the older Rose cheerfully.

"What's going on?" Rose asked in a weary voice, rubbing her temples tiredly. "Am I dreaming?"

The Doctor coughed awkwardly, and the Older, Saucier Rose smirked. "What would you do with two of us in your dreams, Doctor? I wonder."

"Stop it," said the Time Lord sternly. He went over to his Rose and softly explained, "An older version of you has accidentally ended up in the wrong place. Well, wrong time. I don't know why, at the moment, but I'm working on it. I'll get her back to where she's supposed to be, don't worry."

Rose nodded, half-understanding what he was going on about. "Okay. So in the meantime are either of you going to explain why that slightly older me appears to be heavily influenced by a certain Jack Harkness?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad," older Rose grumbled. "This Doctor's the same man as my Doctor, you know. Not like I can just switch off my feelings just because he hasn't…experienced them, yet."

The Doctor shifted from foot to foot restlessly. It was one thing having companions meet other companions; it was seven shades more awkward having a companion meet herself. An older, flirtier self, who appeared to snog and shag her best friend on a regular basis.

"Right!" he said loudly, bounding over to the console screen. "Let's set about sending you back to the older me. The older me who apparently knows how to deal with you being all…sexy."

"Oi, are you saying I'm not sexy now?" demanded the younger Rose, folding her arms.

His eyes widened. Older Rose grinned to herself and watched him flounder for a response. "I – I – you – I - "

"Yeah?" Rose prompted.

He tugged on his ear, growing flustered. "Rose, obviously, you're always…you know. But I have to – I can't - "

Rose sighed. "Just get on with sending her back, yeah?" Then she yawned. "Shall I go back to bed or do you need me here?"

"You're gonna have to take away her memory of this," murmured the older Rose. "Because I don't remember meeting myself."

He swore under his breath. "Right. Great."

"Do you have to?" said the younger Rose.

"Yep."

She made her way over to him. "All right then," she sighed despondently. "Go ahead. Snoop into my mind."

"I promise I won't look around," he assured her.

"Thank you."

He stared at her for a few moments without doing anything.

"Well?"

"It's just," he said thoughtfully. "If you wake up before I send her back, we're gonna have to go through all this again anyway."

"I'm knackered, Doctor. I can't stay awake any longer. Trust me, I won't be getting up before ten tomorrow morning. Which gives you a nice deadline to work towards. You're better with deadlines, anyway."

He smiled, acknowledging that with a nod of his head. "If you're sure."

"Yeah." She yawned again.

"Rose, seeing as you're not going to remember this until a long way in the future anyway…"

"Yeah?" she prompted impatiently.

The other Rose looked on in confusion and no small amount of anticipation. What was he going to do?

"May I…" he trailed off again.

Younger Rose sighed. She knew exactly what he was trying to ask; she could tell just from how twitchy he looked. But he was so bloody useless about doing anything, ever. So she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him full on the mouth.

Older Rose's eyes widened. "Blimey, I was braver back then than I remember being," she murmured to herself.

His muffled noise against her lips was soon lost for good as she opened her mouth beneath his. He grabbed her around the waist and drew her against him, his tongue slipping between her parted lips.

"Oh for god's sake," older Rose grumbled. "I thought I was the one who was gonna get snogged this morning. Evening. Whichever." It was weird, being jealous of herself. She knew what the Doctor meant, now, when he'd been seething with anger and envy whilst watching her accidentally snog his eighth self in a run-in last month. That hair and the soft voice and the velvet – she was startled out of her pleasant memories when her younger self and the Doctor broke apart, chests heaving and gazes eyeing each other in disbelief and lust.

Older Rose groaned. "Can you just get on with it? I want to get back home so that I can do some of that myself."

Younger Rose nodded at the Doctor. "And I'm still knackered. But that was very good. We'll need to do that again. Soon. Very soon. All right?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Promise?"

"Mmhmm," he squeaked.

"Right. You gonna set a trigger thingy so that I remember this in the future, then?"

"Yeah," he breathed out roughly, finally regaining his equilibrium. "I'll fade and hide the memory and set it to spring back to life, so to speak, once you've – once the older you has returned to the future; that's when she'll – you'll - remember."

"Okay. Let's do this," she said determinedly. She started to walk down the corridor and he looked at her in alarm. "Doctor, you can't very well make me forget whilst the older me is standing right there, eh?"

"You'll fall asleep immediately anyway," older Rose pointed out.

"And then he'd have to carry me all the way to my room," said younger Rose.

"Trust me," older Rose snorted. "He's done a hell of a lot more than just carry you to your room - "

"Okay!" the Doctor interrupted loudly, his cheeks tinting pink. "Let's get this over with."

He followed Rose to her bedroom and waited impatiently as she settled herself down in the bed. She looked so cosy, snuggled in the duvet, and he honestly wouldn't've minded cuddling up with her right then and falling asleep himself. But he had a job to do, and another Rose in the console room who needed…dealing with.

So he brought his fingers to her temples and closed his eyes, sweeping into her mind. He nearly groaned at the intense pleasure he received from the mere welcoming embrace her mind instinctively gave him. It was so warm and trusting and he'd never expected it to feel like this, so…good. But he pushed past the pleasure, knowing that it wasn't what he was there for, knowing that he had to ignore what was quite likely to undo him if he concentrated on it too long. So he skimmed through her memories, taking care not to look at the ones she'd hidden behind doors, and once he'd found what he was looking for, he swiftly and successfully made her forget the encounter in the console room. As he had told her earlier, she would remember this, but only in the future, once the older Rose that he had in the console room at that moment was back in her temporal place to dissolve the paradox.

Withdrawing his hands from his current Rose, and laying her head softly against her pillow, he simply gazed at her for a few moments, watching her sleeping. His breathing was quick and laboured, and he fought to compose himself. He was so scared, but so happy, about what his future Rose had told him. And he knew that he'd have to forget the meeting too, for it wasn't fair for him to remember the kiss he had shared with the Rose in front of him when she didn't, but he hoped that the measure of peace instigated by the sheer knowledge that one day, they'd be kissing, a lot, stayed with him after he pushed aside the memory.

Exhaling roughly, the Doctor stood up, and made his way back to the console room.


Rose was lounging on the jumpseat when he returned, and he watched her for a little while, cataloguing the differences between this Rose and the one he had just left sleeping in her room.

Her hair was a few inches longer, and a shade darker – sort of honey-blonde. And her jaw line seemed more defined somehow, as though she'd lost a little weight in her face. Except that overall, she was slightly curvier, still slender but with a more – a more – he didn't know how to describe it. But even with her sitting down he could tell that her hips – well. He'd like his hands to find purchase on those hips. And he remembered that her eyes, when he'd been looking into them earlier, well, she definitely seemed older. Only a few years, true, but still – there was more experience in those eyes. He wondered what they see together, in the future, for her to look so wise, so young. He hoped it was good things.

"I know you're there, you know," she said suddenly, twisting her head slightly to fix him with a teasing grin. "Stop staring and come over here."

He smiled back sheepishly and did as she asked, standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets. "I'm not quite sure what to do to get you back in the right place," he admitted quietly. "But I'll figure it out, don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she replied trustingly. He nodded gratefully and, popping his glasses on, he turned to the console screen to set up a few scans of the TARDIS logs.

"Of course, it might be that this me doesn't do anything, and that it's the future me that solves the problem," he murmured thoughtfully. "At least from his end he's got the cause of the problem. For me, it's hard to know why you showed up. Must be a glitch in the future, but - "

"But what if he's not awake?"

"Hmm?" He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"We went out dancing last night. Had a bit to drink. You might be asleep, still, or hungover."

He whirled around to face her properly. "Right, see, there are several things in those sentences that don't make any sense," he told her, a little suspicious.

"Oh?" she said innocently.

"Yeah. Firstly, we went dancing?"

"Yes. On Ahexa. Salsa sort of dancing. It was fun."

"I would never salsa - "

"Well you did so you would, all right?" she replied testily, jumping to her feet.

"Secondly," he said next, ignoring her offended outburst. "I don't drink."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it. You don't drink often, I'll give you that – I can count on one hand the times I've seen you drunk, but - "

"Ah, you see, that's the other thing. Time Lords can't get drunk, so I wouldn't have a hangover."

"Doctor," she said impatiently. "Why are you so reluctant to believe that you might loosen up a bit in the future?"

His posture stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said defensively, crossing his arms.

"Well you have to admit, you're a bit set in your ways at the moment."

"I'm nine hundred and two. It's not exactly surprising that I'd observe habits and routine," he huffed.

"I know, I know. But would it kill you," she said, coming closer, into his personal space. "To live a little more…recklessly?"

He shifted awkwardly, marvelling at the way she made that simple sentence sound so bloody seductive. "Reckless is my middle name," he scoffed. "How many times, exactly, do we run into trouble each month?"

"On average, sixteen, my last count. But that's beside the point."

He stared at her unblinkingly.

"The point," she emphasised, when he didn't reply, "Is that when it comes to us, you hold back. And you don't need to."

"Don't I?" he whispered.

"Nope." She reached out and unfolded his arms for him, taking his hands in hers and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "But I have to disagree."

"Why?" she countered in annoyance.

"Because I can't just change who I am." He eyed her contemplatively. "I don't drink, and I don't get drunk, and do not dance salsa."

Rose glared at him, dropping his hands. "So what you're saying is, you still trusted me earlier when you were surprised by the fact that we're in a relationship in the future, but the minute I suggest that your supposedly high-and-mighty Time Lord physiology sometimes fails to metabolize alcohol, you immediately suspect that I'm an imposter?"

"I didn't say that I thought you were an imposter," he said carefully.

"No, but you're staring at me with a healthy dose of suspicion in your eyes right now."

"Well, if you will keep saying things that don't make sense…" he trailed off meaningfully, raising his eyebrows.

"For god's sake, Doctor. How do you expect me to prove to you that I'm really who I say I am?"

"Well I don't know," he retorted in frustration, then heaved a sigh. "Look, okay, I believe that you're you. I do. I would be able to tell if you weren't. I'm just…I'm just confused, that's all."

"How?"

"What, you don't think that my best friend turning up from the future and telling me that I suddenly become all…all…human, isn't confusing?"

"I didn't mean that," she waved her hand dismissively. "I meant, how would you be able to tell if I wasn't me?"

"I just would," he retorted impatiently. "Anyway - "

"But how?"

"Rassilon, Rose. I know you like I know the back of my hand. Of course I'd be able to tell."

She raised her eyebrows. "Right. So how am I gonna get back?"

"Eager to leave?"

"Well, yeah, I am. I'd like to get back to a Doctor who acknowledges how he feels, to be honest."

"Rose, for goodness' sake, I'm not saying that part of me isn't looking forward to – to – that, but another part of me is always going to be wary of taking that step. I can't help it! It terrifies me."

"I don't understand you sometimes," she muttered. "You kissed the other me earlier and you looked like you enjoyed it from where I was standing."

"Doesn't make it any easier."

Rose laughed. "You missed an opportunity there for a 'that actually makes it harder' joke." He glared at her and she shrugged. "Just saying."

"It's not funny, Rose! This is a serious situation."

"Blimey, you're boring. What did I actually see in you in the early days?"

"Well if I'm so boring then maybe it's best that we don't start all that in the first place!" he said rashly.

"No!" she shouted angrily. "Don't you dare say that!"

"Well if you persist on being so – so - " he floundered for the right word, his voice raising in volume as he stammered for an answer.

"What? So what?" she prompted, her voice laced with hurt.

"I don't know!"

"Argh, you're so annoying! I can't believe I used to put up with this!"

"What, and I've changed so much, have I? You just keep proving my point."

She shook her head at him. "Please can you just get me home? I can't stand you when you're like this." She made to move away but he was too quick.

He backed her up against the console, everything in his movement lined with anger. "Perhaps if you weren't so bloody intent on humanising me, then you'd already be back in the right place by now!"

She grabbed hold of his jacket lapels and hauled him down so that they were eye level. "Perhaps if you didn't enjoy me doing that so much, you'd have a leg to stand on with that argument."

"You really think that changing the essence of who I am could possibly make me -"

"The essence of who you are?" she scoffed, interrupting him. "Don't be such an idiot, you've not bloody changed, you're still you, you're still the Doctor - "

His face so very, very close to hers, he asked pointedly, "Am I though? Am I really?"

"Yes!" she insisted, tugging on the pinstriped fabric she still had hold of in her hands. "For fuck's sake, you snogged the other me earlier with as much passion as the future you snogs me, so I don't know why you're so sure that you change. If you change you've changed already, and for the better, because I can assure you, Doctor, that you are happy. I'm sorry if that's hard to believe, but you are. You. Me. Together. We're happy."

He growled at her in response, and before he knew what he was doing he had his mouth pressing hard against hers, his hands grasping at her waist, his hips shoving her harder against the console. Rose softened against him pretty much instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck with a sense of familiarity that made him shudder.

After minutes of rather intense snogging, Rose's hand sneaked down between them, palming the front of his trousers. He was hard, and she wanted him, he knew that, but they couldn't, he couldn't do this for the first time with this Rose, so he caught her hand in his and moved it back to his neck. He couldn't quite prevent his own hands from wandering, however. One crept beneath her top, fingers tracing over her ribs; he relished the feeling of her shivering under his touch, goosebumps rising on her soft skin. His other hand skimmed down her back, its final destination the curve of her bum, and, later, after a few more minutes of kissing, the skin beneath the waistband of her jeans.

She rocked against him and he helplessly rocked back, until she was uncomfortably sprawled across the console, buttons and levers digging into her back. She didn't seem to notice, which made the Doctor think that she'd had experience with this and gotten over the discomfort; and of course, the thought of someday fucking her against the console, for real, without clothes in the way, made him even harder.

There was a small but pointed cough, then, that decidedly didn't come from either of them.

Twisting their heads in the direction of the noise, with matching expressions of alarm, they stared in astonishment as the Doctor, the same version of the Doctor that had her pinned to the console but ever-so-slightly older, her Doctor from her timeframe, stood at the TARDIS doors with an aggrieved look upon his face.

"This isn't - " Rose started, but her Doctor cut her off.

"I think it is," he said wearily. "So don't bother saying this isn't what it looks like."

The slightly younger Doctor gulped. "Um. Thing is, there's nothing wrong with this, strictly speaking, so you needn't feel jealous."

"It's just yourself, after all," Rose added hopefully. "I mean, it's not like it's cheating." She offered him a sheepish smile. "It's not even like it's a different you. He's completely the same, and…"

The Doctor by the doors suddenly looked amused. "Yeah, I probably can't blame you. Anyway, it was pretty fortunate that you did, er," he gestured at them. "Do that, because you fortuitously sent yourselves out of the vortex by accidentally pressing those buttons, which meant that I could pinpoint your whereabouts and come and retrieve my Rose. If, that is, she wants to be retrieved," he added wryly, arching an eyebrow.

"Course I do," she assured him with a quick nod. "Um, Doctor. Could you let me go?"

He released her, with great reluctance, and she quickly straightened her shirt and buttoned up her jeans. The Doctor hadn't even realised he'd begun to undo them, before their interruption.

The older Doctor spoke next, to his slightly younger self, "Oh, you're going to have to forget about this, because I definitely don't remember seducing Rose at this point in the timeline."

"She seduced me, more like," the other Doctor grumbled under his breath.

The older Doctor grinned, and waggled his eyebrows at Rose. "That I can believe."

Rose blushed, and leant up to kiss the younger Doctor's cheek. "See you later, then," she whispered, and started to move away from him. But he suddenly grabbed her hand, tugging her back. "What is it?"

"I – Rose - " he murmured, floundering for words. "I just want to say, I'm – I'm sorry. For what I said earlier." He cleared his throat awkwardly and lowered his voice to an even quieter volume. "The truth is, I'm terrified, mostly because I know that I want – I want everything you can give me, and…"

"It's okay," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Everything works out. You're not scared anymore."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," put in the older Doctor, from across the room.

She squeezed the younger one tighter. "Don't listen to yourself. It's worth it."

"I didn't say it wasn't," interjected the older Doctor, sounding defensive.

"You never do learn to be quiet, though," she whispered to the younger one, whose laughter was muffled against the dip of her neck-shoulder region, where his head was buried. Finally releasing him, she stepped back, ruffled his hair, and said, quite definitively, "I love you."

He swallowed thickly, his eyes misting. "Well someone has to," he joked quietly. But there was a wealth of words and sentiment in his burning gaze, and he knew she could read it all quite clearly just by looking at him, because she smiled, brightly and brilliantly, and his knees felt a little wobbly at the sight.

She tugged on his tie cheekily and gave him one last quick kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Can't believe I've got to forget this."

"You'll remember it someday," she whispered, backing away.

He opened his eyes to see her joining her hands with her Doctor. "Thank you," he replied, because he felt like he had a lot to thank her for.

And then they left, and he made himself forget.

The end.