Disclaimer: I own no Who
Sitting in a chippy in 2008 London, Rose munched on the first chips she's had from the city in nearly five years. She'd had plenty of chips over that time, but she and the Doctor had avoided the city she was born and raised in. As she munched on the hot, crispy morsel of deep fried potato goodness, she started to reason that maybe they'd stayed away too long. Aside from doing her favorite treat the best in the known (to her) Universe, she may have been a bit too paranoid about who she'd see while they'd be there.
She kept looking for a sign of recognition, of fear or anger in the faces of those she encountered but they all saw through her. Some offered nervous or polite smiles, and she knew the former was because she'd been staring.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax.
"How're you doing?" The Doctor asked, his brainy specs on despite not actually needing them to read the paper in his hands.
"'M fine," Rose admitted before popping another chip in her mouth. The Doctor's hand brushed over her skin, sending her love and comfort, and she saw the relieved smile on his face as he realized she wasn't just trying to be tough.
"How're your chips?" He asked, a knowing smirk taking over his expression.
"Bloody brilliant." She said, and he chuckled before pulling his hand away and turning the page.
The action combined with the strong flavor of salt and vinegar on her tongue caught Rose off guard. Suddenly it was six years ago, just after she'd lost her mother, a short time after they met Donna, and discovered the changes that would slowly take over her body, mind, and life span. It was also the first time she got any hint of what was to come when she had stared at the ugly mug that was Harold Saxon, aka the Master, and her heart began to hammer. This newspaper simply complained to her about maintenance on the tube, but it still sent her mind to a bad place.
"Last time this sorta thing happened," She said, moving her hand in a circle to gesture around their small, two person table. "Turned out to be hell."
The Doctor arched his brow as he glanced up at her, and maybe because he knew what she was referring to, he bent the pages of the newspaper around before folding it over to showcase what he'd been reading. "The fat just walks away." She read out loud, looking up at him and grinning cheekily. "You don't have any fat to begin with. I know, I've checked."
"Cheeky thing," he called her out as he took back the paper. "But they're making headlines because millions of people are dropping a kilo or two a day with no side affects, no exercise, no changes." He listed, taking off his specs and tucking them inside his blazer pocket.
"Sounds lovely," Rose mused, knowing full well her mother would have been the first one to sign up. It made her smile.
"Sounds suspicious," He smiled too. "Kinda like maybe we should check it out?" He suggest with a twitch of his eyebrows.
Rose wanted to tease him, she really did. She knew deep down somehow that they had just finished dealing with some sort of alien takeover, and normally they would want a break but considering neither of them could recall everything that happened she didn't see the harm.
"Fine," She said before looking at him sternly. "But I'm tellin' you right now, you're asking for trouble if you want me to play client."
"Nah," The Doctor assured, "I think I have a far better idea than that." He added as he reached across the table, his fingers caressing hers as the image of her in a gray suit while wearing the brainy specks she once used as a disguise came through. Words like 'inside job' and 'health and safety' came through, but she was already forming her own idea. Maybe he saw it, maybe he didn't, but she knew between the two of them their plans weren't terrible.
"Could work." She agreed with a smile. "Think maybe you just want an excuse for me to wear those glasses again." She called him out, and before he could pull his hand away she caught the less than innocent images that circled in the forefront of his mind while he tried his best to look like he hadn't been thinking them at all.
"Doesn't hurt," He at least admitted, probably knowing he wasn't fast enough. "So whaddya say, Shiver? Shall we investigate?" He asked.
"I think we shall, Shake." She replied, clicking the 'k' and making him chuckle in his throat. "After chips."
"Oh of course, after chips." He said, leaning back after stealing one of hers. "So I noticed you thought of something else. You wanna split up on this?"
"Better with two," She reminded him. "And better that we'd be going in from two different angles. They're hiring, seen it on the back page. I'll just use some psychic paper and make my resume so fantastic it would be impossible for them not to hire me."
The Doctor picked up the paper, flipping it to the back. "They're hiring for sales." He said as she scrunched his face.
"Yeah, and what do I have experience in?" She questioned, making his frown deepen. She snorted. "I'd not only have access to a client list but I'd be giving product information as part of training."
"Suppose," The Doctor said, suddenly seeming like he honestly couldn't think of a reason to reject her idea. "It's actually pretty solid."
"Alright then, back to the TARDIS in a bit. Gotta make myself look all professional if I'm gonna want them to hire me on spot."
The Doctor smirked, and after five years Rose knew exactly what that particular one, with the slightly hooded eyes and the tilt of his head, meant. "Need help in the shower."
"Maybe if you stop stealing my chips," She countered, pulling the basket back and grinning as his disgruntled expression.
A/N: Two chapters posted 4 days early because why not?
Now, before we proceed you should be warned. This is S4. It will have Donna Noble, and planets disappearing, among many other defining S4 things. But they may not be what you know from canon. I've no idea what others do as it seems this story, a sequel an S3 rewrite, are rare. But here we are, and I promise to complete it.