FROM THE ASHES
Chapter Two
A/N: She'll baulk, but RG had more to do with most of this chapter, seeing as how she wrote Rose for the original RP. Still though, she's absolutely FANTASTIC in catching my grammar. Thanks dear!
Allons-y!
Restless Goddess: Ok, so maybe I had a LITTLE bit more of a hand in this one. The credit still goes to Jonn, though, for taking my words and adding hilarity and a dash more ass-kickery, not that there wasn't plenty already. ;)
Stretching and sighing happily under the duvet and sheets, Rose yawned, relishing the aches of the previous evening. Every one of them reminded her of what happened, and she replayed the moment they'd finally come together - pun completely intended, thanks. Reality was bent on its ear, but she kicked her legs rapidly, giggling like mad. John and I have bonded. We're married. "I'm his wife!" she shouted aloud in outright joy.
Reliving the moment they locked their minds together, she couldn't think of anything more intimate. Just feeling his presence within her mind was so soothing, not to mention empowering. She felt like she could take on the entire world, if not the universe. Not once had she woken up and felt so complete, cherished, and blissfully alive!
Her arm went to the other side of the bed, and she frowned when she found it empty. Typical. Prob'ly waist deep in the console again, she thought. Then she remembered a somewhat fuzzy memory of him saying something about breakfast. Sitting up with a completely bleary and goofy grin on her face, hair sticking out every which way, she hoped he'd gotten that shake and chips she was craving.
Stretching up with a happy sigh, she ran her hands through her hair and put her legs over the edge of the bed. Before she had the chance to stand up though, the entire room tilted and she ended up on her bum in a heap on the floor. Glaring at the ceiling, she shouted angrily over having her mood ruined. "What the bloody hell was that for?"
The dear was somehow a lot louder than what she remembered, and the flurry of images was so vivid and rapid that it made her dizzy. "Whoa! Slow down! Not so loud! What's with the tantrum?" she shrieked. The images slowed, and her eyes became round with a gasp. Seeing John put breakfast close to the TARDIS, she watched as two oddly dressed and unfriendly looking people escorted him away.
Oddly dressed? Looked like Gallifreyan uniforms, they did. Crimson and white… Blanching at that thought, she remembered seeing something similar from his memories last night. Then she realized: 'Captured?' she thought with horror.
It was less than twelve hours after the best goddamned night of her life, and her husband was kidnapped? Her stunned expression changed to a scowl as her shock was replaced by ungodly amounts of rage.
Oh. HELL. No.
"No bleedin' way!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Not now, not ever!"
Closing her eyes, she felt for him in her mind and was somewhat comforted that she could still sense him. Still though, there was a bit of apprehension coming through the bond, and he sounded so far away. Standing up, she stomped bare-arsed naked to the bedroom door before she realized her state. Swearing louder, she snatched her dressing gown and hopped into her bunny slippers - pun very much intended this time too - and bolted down the corridor while tying her scarlet gown around her.
Reaching the outer door of the ship, she looked outside with worry etched all over her face. Glancing down, she saw the breakfast he'd gone after and fought the urge to cry. 'I love you, John,' she sent out to him, and she felt a pulse of love come back through her mind. Heartened from that, she took the bag and cup then looked at the sky. 'I'm coming for you,' she said, thinking it odd that their roles were reversed now. "And there's going to be hell to pay," she growled aloud, going back inside the ship.
The cacophony of noise from the TARDIS made her even more edgy. Setting the food on one of the jump couches, she stuffed some chips in her mouth and took a long draw from the shake. Turning, she leaned on the console with her head down. "Oh God, what do I do?" Their ship was panicking as much as or more than she was, and the display bleeped to get her attention.
Pulling the monitor around to the keyboard, she stared at it and swore… vividly… over her mouthful. She couldn't speak Gallifreyan to save her life, and the screen happened to be full of the bubbly and circled words. "No," she choked out. Holding her hand over her mouth, she screamed in frustration.
The room rumbled, and the artful language disappeared. The screen flickered through a multitude of different verbiage. The only ones she recognized were French and Italian, but she could swear she saw Egyptian hieroglyphs briefly. The dear was trying so hard to get her to understand. Eventually, she gave up and the lights died.
She could only see now from the slight blue-green tint of the time rotor. Blinking rapidly, she tried to wipe the tears out of her face. Whimpering in the dark, Rose felt a small hand grasp hers. "Mum?" she heard.
Whipping her head down to look at the TARDIS avatar, she knelt and hugged her tightly. "What do I do? I don't know what I'm doing!" she wailed.
"Shhh," the young dear said, rubbing and patting her back. "I'm the only one allowed to panic right now. I can't fly myself, you have to pilot!" she cried.
Both of them shook and trembled, holding on to each other for a while. Then somehow, things seemed to click together. They pulled back and looked at each other, then Rose squared herself. "What do I have to do?"
"We have to do it," she corrected her. "Pull him to us through our bonds with him. That way, we can figure out where he is and get the coordinates. When we get that, I can show you what to push, pull, or spin by lighting them up. Okay?" Rose nodded hesitantly at that, and the young dear smiled through her worry. "I can't keep projecting, it's pulling at the power stores."
"It's okay," Rose said, hugging her again. "You go on. Just help me." Pulling back, the dear had a look of determination on her face, and nodded as she faded. The lights came up, and Rose stood to lean on the console again.
Closing her eyes, she could feel the TARDIS working with her. Focusing on John, she did what the dear said and tried pulling him close. Coordinating their efforts, his mind seemed to zoom in on them. A happy series of warbles and chitters filled the room, and she opened her eyes. Looking at the screen, she read the numbers aloud. "Ten Zero Eleven Zero Zero, by Zero Two." A vivid image of an orange planet filled her mind. "Gallifrey?" she asked, confused. The image morphed into what looked like a bunch of asteroids. While it saddened her, she realized that meant John was on the ship they saw the day before. "Ohhhh, yes!" she shouted, punching the air.
She paused as she realized she was completely under-equipped, and a quick search of her dressing gown pockets didn't amount to much except an inspection label. Sighing, she thought aloud. "A gun. Need a really big gun." Right now, she didn't give a time-flying fuck about violence being the last resort - her husband was in danger!
Rose was startled by a rather loud metallic clang behind her. Turning 'round, she saw a sonic pulse rifle on the deck plating. Blinking in confusion, she recognized it from its resemblance to John's sonic pistol. Picking it up, she tested the heft and spun it about. Sturdy. Grinning, she had to ask. "Bloody hell, girl! Where in the world were you hiding this thing?"
An image of one of the storage rooms with a cascade of books filled her mind. "What? Why'd you hide it with the library books? He's always in there looking for something!" The image spun ninety degrees, then went to one of the corners where her dirty secret was. "Oh… OH! Those books." She blinked in embarrassment over her stash of romance novels, flushing. "Right. Um, let's keep that our little secret, er, shall we?"
Glancing around again, she pursed her lips, then slung the rifle over her shoulder. "Okay girl, let's go get our man!" Imitating John, she kicked the brake off with her bunny slippered feet, and went about the controls in an Electric Light Orchestra version of the Whac-a-Mole game. As soon as something lit up, she smacked, pulled, or twisted it. Smirking to herself, she thought this was the Real Time Warp dance, Frankenfurter be damned.
Since the pair of them were so crazed with panic, the ship literally shot off the side of the building and skyrocketed out into space with such force that there was a micro boom that signalled the breaking of the Sound Barrier. Inside, Rose grabbed the console just in time, but whined when she saw her breakfast fly off the jump couch, forced to mourn the chocolate. Fortunately, the chips were still in the bag. Looking over, she saw that the bag had burst, chips scattered to hell and gone. "Oh well," she sighed.
Surprisingly, she heard the TARDIS' voice shrieking in her mind. 'I'll get you more! Now Concentrate!' Blanching at that, she nodded and went around the controls.
Staring in shock, Romana couldn't believe what she was seeing. "How did you get a TARDIS?" she shouted angrily.
"Grew her ourselves," John said, "Now calm down!" The look of shock on Romana's face was even more pronounced now, when she snapped her head around to look at him.
Watching, the usual brake noise was absent as a squealing, crackling thunk heralded the arrival of a four poster bed. 'PA'NA!' John heard their ship shriek in his mind, and he couldn't help but grin. He never really thought about it like that before, but he was the first sentient being she recognised when she became self aware. Seemed amusingly appropriate to him that she just called him the Gallifreyan equivalent of 'daddy.' He was a bit more than surprised at hearing her mental voice though. That was a first. Avatar was one thing, but that was something completely new.
There was a wooden creak, and Rose's blond head popped out from behind the headboard of the bed. 'You flew her yourself! Solo! On Target! Oh Rose, I'm so Proud of you!' he beamed unabashedly. She looked at him and grinned, then saw who was next to him and scowled.
Cocking the very large rifle that he hadn't noticed before, Rose stepped threateningly (as threateningly as one could when wearing a dressing gown and bunny slippers) from the bed, giving whomever that woman was the one look that could possibly rival the terror of the Oncoming Storm: the Tyler Glare. "Let. My. Husband. Go."
The look on her face made John blanch. 'Don't shoot her!' he thought to her quickly as she aimed at Romana. He added an image of her holding up the Queen in Westminster Abbey just to let her know this was a bad idea. While she did flinch at that, she wasn't deterred.
Oddly enough, he wasn't sure how to feel right at that moment. There was amused humour at what she was wearing; a bit of horror at seeing her point a rifle at Romana; some wonder over where the hell she got that thing to begin with; and… the sight of her coming to his rescue like that had him more than just a bit randy.
For her part, Romana was nonplussed. Looking over the girl, she realized that this was the same companion that the Doctor had lost. "You must be Rose. The metacrisis was just telling me about you."
Fuming now, Rose growled at her, "That metacrisis happens to be my husband, you cow. His name's Johnathon Donald Smith!"
Head whipping about to stare at her, John thought oh hell, when he felt Rose's anger expound exponentially. Foregoing that alliterative, he sidestepped in front of Romana with his arms out to the sides. "Rose, no! Stop! I wont let you do this!"
"John, get outta the way!" Rose complained, then paused. This felt more than a little familiar to her, just now.
Shaking his head, John continued. "Rose… sweetheart… This is President Romanadvoratrelundar, and, the closest thing you'll ever get to an actual sister-in-law."
Rose's eyes flicked to his, and she saw what he was thinking: Her standing in front of a Dalek while he was the one pointing the gun. More role reversals, but she didn't care. 'Sister-in-Law?' This was intolerable!
Stepping forward, John began pulsing his love for her through the bond, realising then what it must've been like for Rose to see him like this, angry and determined and full of love, aiming a weapon at someone who was just doing what they felt was right. "You need to listen to me, Rose. We are on the Gallifrey station. The nice lady behind me is the one in charge of the Time Lords."
"No!" Rose complained. "She abducted you! Right from our bloody bed!"
Closer now, he could snatch the gun out, but he wanted to talk her down. He did rest his hand on the working end of it, though. "It's all right, honey, I promise. There are no Daleks, Davros, or Emperor; No Ood, werewolves, Sycorax, Cybermen, or devils… Jersey or otherwise. You're on my home turf hon, and apparently I scare the pants off of them."
Running the back of his fingers down her cheek, he saw her eyes flutter shut, then snap open, full of worry. "It's okay, darling. I promise." When she bit her lip, he smiled. 'Love you, Rose.'
That seemed to break through to her, because she let go of the gun and threw her arms around his neck. 'Love you too! So so much, I can't stand it!' "The day after our bonding!" she wailed into his shoulder, fit to tears. "It's not fair!"
Tossing the rifle onto the bed, he told the dear to hide it away. After it vanished, he held on to Rose with both arms and kissed her cheek. "I have to say dear, the Arthur Dent look looks a hell of a lot better on you than me. The pink bunny slippers really sell it!"
"Shut it," she protested through her giggles.
John thought to her. 'You're getting so shagged when this is over,' and grinned at her squeak from that bit of information.
It was his turn though, when she gave him a mental visual of exactly what she wasn't wearing. 'That had better be a promise, mister.' She thoroughly enjoyed that little growl of approval he made.
A soft clearing of Romana's throat brought them around. Rose blushed, and gave her a rather apologetic smile. "Uhm, s-sorry about that," she stammered. "I, uh… well, you see I kind of panicked, you know. Waking up to find out my husband's been kidnapped kinda made me flip off my nut there… a bit." She cringed.
It looked like Romana was going to say something, but the door hissed open. Narvin led four guards into the room, shouting orders. "Secure the room! Secure them! Secure… is that a TARDIS?"
"No, it's four poster bed," John mocked. "Of course she's our TARDIS!" he said petulantly. "She's brilliant!" He blatantly refrained from calling him 'Narvin the Nartian' for fear of being poked to death by Rose. However, seeing as she 'heard' that little thought through the bond, he got a few good pokes anyway.
Drawing his staser, Narvin pointed it at John's head. "Silence! You're not even a real person! You're just a copy of a pathetic excuse of a Time Lord!"
"Oi!" Rose shouted. "Back off, you right bastard!" Glaring at him, her anger flashed afresh, and she had a real target for her fury. "While you lot were muckin' about up here, John was busy saving the universe from Davros! He never asked to be what he is, but he took on an entire Dalek fleet by himself!"
She shrieked loud enough to make her mother proud, had she heard it (and she probably did, for that matter). "John's only half Time Lord, and he's still better than you! Now get that damned gun out of his face!"
"Rose, honey," John tried to intervene, but she wasn't about to be swayed. She was furious.
"And another thing!" She knocked the staser out of his hand and shoved a finger in Narvin's face. "Don't you dare call the Doctor pathetic! They call him the Oncoming Storm for a reason! Daleks Run when he's around! Or did you forget the Battle of the Nightmare Child?"
To his credit, Narvin actually blanched at that. Still though, that inferior creature just disarmed him! "Arrest her!"
"Belay that!" Romana bellowed, getting everyone's attention. "Ignore that order and return to your posts. Thank you for your attention, but your presence is no longer required."
"Madam President!" Narvin protested at full volume.
Turning her icy glare towards him, Romana was rather quiet. "Coordinator Narvin, I suggest you return to your office and your duties. This situation is under control. However, we will talk in the near future about your present behaviour."
Fuming silently, Narvin tossed a data crystal onto Romana's desk. "Madam President, that is the file you requested. May I recommend that you read it as soon as possible?" Clicking his heels together (this time it was Rose's turn to hold back a remark, though it was about ruby slippers and yellow brick roads, instead of 'Nartians'), he gave a curt nod and left the room.
Once things settled and it was just the three of them, Romana blew out a breath. "Now. Where were we?"