Chapter Two

The drive into the city could not have been more uncomfortable or awkward than if Rassilon himself had somehow found his way into this universe and somehow crammed himself and his formal regalia into the truck to travel along with the exhausted group of travellers. It was a spacious vehicle, designed for rugged terrain and a sense of adventure, and he was sure that it must look quite queer driving a few clicks above the maximum, clearly signed speed limit.

Normally, he would have found himself crawling over the console to get a better look at the satellite radio, fiddling with the dials to pass the time, but with a now nervous-seeming Jackie Tyler stubbornly planted behind the wheel and an extremely sullen Rose sitting as the front passenger to the left, he had decided the backseat was much more comfortable and had examined, dismantled, and grown bored with the seatbelt mechanisms not ten minutes into the drive.

Jackie had attempted to make conversation, hoping that the hours of painful silence and melodrama had been left behind at the beach, but her efforts had not been appreciated. He had done his best to be polite, this woman had always been a trial - albeit, a well meaning one, so he did his best to get on with her when he had to - and at first he had attempted to answer her questions, clicking his tongue and humming at the appropriate times whenever his turn came around, but Jackie always brought the conversation around to Rose, who seemed intent on ignoring the both of them. He understood and even appreciated her efforts the first few times, but as time went on and Rose continued to stare listlessly out the window, the conversation continued to fizzle out awkwardly and he wished she would just let it alone. Eventually, she had.

They had been driving in silence for some time now, Jackie only going as far as tossing worried looks over at her daughter, and then her absurdly arched eyebrows would flash in the rear-view mirror, accusing and questioning him, as if he had done something. It had alarmed him at first, unsure of what he should do, but eventually he had decided that there was nothing he could do from back here, and had instead taken to ignoring her pointed looks to stare out the window the way Rose was.

The landscape seemed very much the same as the Earth he knew, the terrain seeming frightfully typical, which disappointed him. Well, this was just one part of Norway. There was a whole lot of Earth out there, and he knew it was a mathematical improbability for their not be at least a few unique quirks about this planet, given the advances in technology and what he suspected about the Earth's alignment, and the subsequent effect that would have on the climate and seasons.

The lights of the nearest town were not far off, and as he peered out the tinted window into the gloom, he thought there was something different about the light coming from the lamp posts, some other method of illumination creating a much brighter, harsh, artificial glare, although it seemed to be more efficient and far-reaching. As they came into the city he noticed that the traffic lights were hung horizontally, rather than vertically; the uniform bend he noted in the neatly manicured and maintained trees along the main drag suggested there was a touch more wind in this region than there had been on the original Earth, or old Earth - really, he was not sure what to call it. He couldn't very well go on referring to this as "Pete's world" any longer, he supposed, not now that he and Rose were stuck there for the rest of their lives. Well, she had been here for years, hadn't she? She and her mum had probably come up for a proper name for this alternate Earth, and the world they had left behind. Shifting his gaze from the window to the blonde, he considered asking her, but discarded the idea almost immediately; Rose looked very nearly asleep, her head sort of bobbing with the rhythm of the vehicle as they turned haphazardly around corners and screeched through intersections as the lights shifted colour. Later.

"Well, I don't know about you two miseries, but I'm dying for a feather bed and dry jimjams." Jackie Tyler sang, as if the past three or four hours on the highway and the three hours prior to that in Bad Wolf Bay had been a pleasant day at the beach and friendly roadtrip. The Doctor nodded, offering a weak smile when he noticed her eyeing him via the rearview. "What about you, Rose?" She laid a heavily ringed hand on her daughter's shoulder, giving her a shake. "Tired, yeah? A cuppa, that's what you need. And some rest. Your father," turning in her seat, Jackie tossed back over her shoulder "- Pete, that is, Doctor. He isn't really, her father I mean, but then again he is, or was - anyway, your father said he made all the arrangements. Hotel isn't far now, won't that be nice? It's quite posh, make no mistake."

"Don't need much, mum." Rose said quietly, apparently awake and listening although her head was still bobbing from where she had slumped against the window. "'m hoping to catch a zeppelin first thing, tomorrow. Gotta get back, yeah?" He saw that she had glanced back at him through the rearview and felt his heart clench. Was she coming around?

"Oh, don't be like that. It's been a long day, and I'm sure that Doctor of yours could do with a rest." Jackie cooed, turning the wheel end over end as she pulled rather suddenly into the lot of what indeed looked like a very nice hotel. "You are, aren't you?"

"Hmmm?" He answered belatedly, distracted by the glances he was sure Rose was stealing in the reflection of the window now, although the gloom of the cabin was doing a good job of shielding her eyes.

"Tired, you plum!" Jackie rolled her eyes as she jerked the gear shift into 'PARK' before disengaging her seatbelt with a flick of her wrist, the restraining belts slipping rapidly into holsters hidden between the seats. "Am I talkin' to m'self? You two have been rubbish company, thank you very much."

Following her mother's lead, Rose disengaged her safety belts as she reached for the latch on the door. "Been a long day, mum. 'm just tired. 'm sure it's the same for the..." she trailed off, suddenly busy with the zip on her jacket as she slid out of the car. "We just need sleep, alrigh'?"

"Yeah, yeah." Her mother answered, jerking the door open from the outside for him, frowning at the mess of springs and plastic from his dismantled seatbelt after he had hopped out, hands in his trousers, already approaching the front of the building. "Oi, this is a rental! If we lose the deposit on account of your tinkering I'll..." A pointed look from Rose quieted Jackie as he let his eyes roll back in his head, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. "They'll have your room ready for ya, just stop in for a pair of keys."

"Wha-? A pair?" Rose sort of whined, her wide eyes flashing between the Doctor and her mother, a touch of colour brightening her otherwise flat complexion, the neon lighting of the signage washing her out in a haze of greens and blues. She tossed a look of disbelief at her mother before slinking towards the doors. "Clueless."

"What? What is it that look for? Honestly Rose, I don't see what you're fussin' about. You were practically shacked up in that bloody box for Godonlyknows how long, weren't ya? And the way you've been going on about finding him, well, can ya blame me for assuming?" Fuming, Jackie Tyler strode past him, tugging along an overnight bag she seemed to have pulled from thin air on squeaking wheels. It had seemed both Tyler women had forgotten him, assuming he would follow.

Raking his fingers back through his hair, he let out a breath as he took a few jogging steps to catch the door before it had swung all the way closed, thrusting himself into the brightly lit waiting area. Squinting, he had barely caught Jackie asking him if he minded terribly sharing the room with Rose over the din of a sort of pulsing beat coming the from the loudspeakers.

"No, no. I'm fine anywhere Jackie. She can put me in the cupboard if she likes, so long as it's dry."

"Well then, you see. It's all fine. They're booked solid anyway. Your father," Jackie glanced over her shoulder, gesturing at Rose. "- Pete, that is - he can't do nothing about rooms that are already filled up, and there isn't much in this town, y'see?"

Rose nodded, her ears colouring as she stalked towards the elevator with a pair of sleek, glossy cards in her hand. Noting that Jackie had requested a room service menu from the front desk and was already presenting a list of demands, he gave her a wave as he made to follow Rose. He came up alongside her just as the lift arrived and smiled as she sort of shoved one of the keycards towards him before hurrying into the rounded tube. Stowing the keycard in his trouser pocket, he peered at the panel of buttons, noting that the hotel had seven floors, and they were headed to the sixth. He offered her a smile but she either failed to notice or simply would not return it. As she stepped off the lift he found himself staring at his shoes, wondering why this seemed to be so difficult for her.

"Here we are." Rose said in a strained voice as she jammed the card into a slot beneath the door handle, a light blinking green signalling that they were able to enter.

It was more than a hotel room, more of a suite really, the door opening to an immediate and cozy living area with a kitchen nook in the corner, everything tastefully furnished in warm colours, a love seat and armchair arranged around a charming fireplace. He could see that there was a bathroom down the hall, and what must have been a bedroom past that, but he was more interested in Rose to really appreciate the homey-ness of the decor. She had immediately shrugged off her jacket, letting it fall over the back of the nearest armchair as she bent over the coffee table, noisily turning out her pockets and leaving a pile of change, a few crumpled bits of paper, and her keycard scattered across it's polished surface. It warmed him a bit to see her coming-home-ritual again for the first time in what felt like forever, although it could only have been a couple of years.

"It's nice. Very nice." He answered gently, not wanting to get too close to her, but not knowing exactly where to stand either. "Lots of furniture, as well. That's great. I was hoping for better than the cupboard." Offering her a familiar, Cheshire grin, he rocked back on the heels of his soggy trainers. "There's a fire and everything. I love fireplaces. Where there is a fireplace there is a flue, and where there is a flue there is a chimney, and chimney's are just full of possibilities - well, not this one." He countered, striding past her as he bent to examine the glass-enclosed flames. "Gas. Or electric. Electric, I think." Standing up straight, he gestured dismissively at the fireplace as he turned to give her a smile, which died quickly on his lips. "Not much chance of a chimney, then. Electric..."

She was staring at him as if she had seen a ghost, and really, he couldn't understand why she would be looking at him like that now. It had been nearly an entire day since she had seen a duplicate of the Doctor burst forth from the TARDIS, saving her and all the rest from certain doom with Donna's help, and she had seemed friendly enough once everything had been explained by the original Doctor. Now, she was looking at him as if his rambling had been a string of curse words, completely aghast and rendered speechless, her mouth sort of hanging open. He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he shifted his gaze quickly towards the disappointing electric fireplace. What was he supposed to do with her gaping at him like a fish? He could sense her unease, taste her discomfort, and it set his teeth on edge.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Rose. I'm not going to do anything. Not until you tell me what to do." He said quietly after bringing his hands up to scrub his face roughly. "If you have questions, if you need time, you just need to -"

"Time. Yeah. I need time." She cut in quickly, her teeth gone back to worrying her bottom lip. Her lips looked dry. Jumping through time and space and universes, in his experience, was very dehydrating. She knew that, he was sure. She had been doing it for months before finding him.

He nodded, lowering his gaze to the carpet, puzzled by a feeling of annoyance that had his skin crawling.

"'m sorry. I just... I just need to sort it all out, y'know?" She said in a low, panicked voice, unconsciously shifting between him and the door, as if she expected him to leave. "'m tired. 'm wet and got sand in my clothes, in my hair."

"Yeah. Funny thing, sand. Seems to get everywhere, even when you did barely more than walk in it." He dragged a hand back through his hair once, twice, and again with the other hand. "I get it. Long day, and all that. We've got lots of time, you and I. Lots of time."

"Right." She answered, staring at him as an uncomfortable silence fell between them. When he finally plucked up the courage to open his mouth and begin rambling again, she took a step back, gesturing over her shoulder. "'m gonna hop in the shower, yeah? If you don't mind waitin'? I've gotta dry my hair and all that, you remember, so... You don't mind, do you?" Her gaze swept over him, seeming to be searching for something he was not sure he had.

"No, no. You go on. Ladies first, isn't that the rule?"

She mirrored the weak smile he flashed at her before disappearing down the hallway, a lock mechanism clicking audibly before the the sound of the water pounding walls of glass reached him, giving him an idea of how sensitive his hearing was in this hybrid body. He sighed, waiting and failing to hear what should have been the heavy drop of her clothing hitting the floor, the creak of the shower door, and any number of other slight noises he was accustomed to hearing from much greater distances. He supposed he should be grateful for the hearing he had, it would still be stronger than that of a human, and that was something. With that in mind he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of air freshners, bleach, dust, warm plastics, and a host of other things that clung to the surfaces of the hotel room. Before the meta-crisis, he would have been able to pick apart a myriad of different scents and the chemical compounds that they were made of, and if he was ever in doubt, his tongue would fill in the rest if he really needed to know what things were made of, or touched by. Rose had always thought it terribly unhygienic, but it been a skill that proved it's use more than a few times on the fly. Picking up one of the decorative throw pillows from off the loveseat, he sniffed it gingerly, deciding he could do without knowing whatever substances had rubbed off on it, his tongue running over his dry lips instead.

Rose had fled, leaving him to his own devices, in a damp suit and soggy trainers, unfed and parched. Frowning, the Doctor bent to tug at the laces of his trainers before kicking them off and arranging them carefully a few inches in front of the disappointing fireplace, hoping they might dry out. Doing away with his wet socks, he padded across the carpeted living room barefoot, attempting to make out the make-up of the carpet fibers as he moved through touch alone, deciding that it was ultimately a synthetic blend, but the specifics eluded him. The kitchen nook provided a few basic amenities, a strange and complicated looking coffee machine, and a tall table with bar-stool like chairs. He bent to put his face under the faucet, swallowing a few mouthfuls of chemically treated water with a hiss before scrubbing his face.

He was tired, incredibly tired. Was that because of the emotional roller-coaster of the day, the shock of popping into existence completely by chance, or because that was just what he had to deal with now? The tired Doctor. The sleepy Doctor. The altogether un-alert Doctor. His face set in a hard lines as he glowered into the refrigerator, he tried to calm his single, oddly-beating heart. It wouldn't be so bad, sleeping. Rose did it all the time. Thinking back to the time they had spent on the TARDIS, he sniffed and muttered to himself, remembering with some annoyance that it seemed sometimes it was all Rose ever did. Sleep. For hours at a time! The thought of spending eight hours every day unconscious quelled the ache in his stomach, and he decided he was not hungry.

As he slunk back into the living room, he cast a despondent gaze down the length of the hallway, his eyes finding the slivers of light that were pouring out from the corners of the door frame. He thought about the way Rose had kissed him on the beach and wondered why she was so shy now. They hadn't exactly been sharing a bedroom or anything aboard the TARDIS, but there had been no locked doors (none that would have been any use against him, anyway), and while Rose and he had never gotten the chance to get all that intimate, he remember more than a few times loitering outside her bathroom while she showered, having to shout to converse with her over the noise of the shower. They had been mates, inseparable most of the time, and he had not really been concerned with personal space or boundaries. She had gotten used to him bounding in and out to tell her about one magnificent star or another, and would come out wrapped snugly in plush pink towels, one around her body, and one up in her hair. She had always complained, now that he thought about it, something about 'not having her face on' or some other ridiculous notion. He had always assured her that her face looked the same as ever, fully attached, and it usually sent her into a fit of giggles, given their experience with The Wire. Now, glowering at the door, he resented the flimsy piece of particle board and plastic that she had put up between them. Why was that necessary? If he had been the other Doctor would she have closed and locked the door, he wondered? As he heard the taps creak and the flow of water cease abruptly he sighed, moving from the hallway back into the living room.

The sound of her hair dryer turning on and off let him know that she was nearing the end of her bath routine, so he settled himself on the couch, trying (and failing) to make himself look casual and comfortable.

When she opened the door he could not help but shiver a bit as a rush of humidity and warmth escaped the bathroom, the familiar smell of her soaps and shampoos reaching his sensitive nose. Rose had always smelled nice, and after some coaxing and lectures about the astringent products she had brought from home, she had adapted to more natural products from other worlds. Of course, she had none of that with her when she was lost to him at Canary Wharf, there hadn't exactly been time to pack a bag or anything, but he could tell that she had not gone back to the harsh lathering sulfates in drugstore products that had always set his eyes to watering. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't quite the same, but the thought of him and his preferences rubbing off on her after all this time was comforting. He was not some random alien that had followed her home. He was the Doctor, she was Rose, surely things would not be this terribly uncomfortable forever?

"Um... Doctor?" Rose's voice, edgy with hesitation, brought him back to himself. He smiled serenely at her, positively beaming as he thrust himself up to stand, his fingers making easy work of the buttons down the front of his blazer. Her wide-eyed stare eventually slowed his fingers, and he tilted his head to the side.

"What? No hot water left?" He said amicably as he peeled his jacket back over his shoulders with a shrug. "It'll take all night for this to dry out, I'm telling you. I should have taken a few things from the TARDIS, hmm."

Rose could only stare at him for a minute, her mouth hanging open the way it had been before. Shaking herself, she brought a hand up to comb through her semi-damp, blown out hair. "Oh, um. Give it a minute. Just t'be safe, yeah?" Eyeing the damp jacket he had thrown over the back of one arm, she cleared her throat, pointing down the hall. "There's a sort of hamper. Put it - your clothes I mean - they'll wash and press it." She squeaked nervously, her face going pink before she buried it in her hands. "'m sorry. I just don't know what t'do with m'self."

"Oh, Rose." He sighed, deciding that it would be better to just try and jump in rather than tip-toeing around her, it was a policy that had generally worked for him in the past. Gathering her up in his arms, squeezing her as he buried his face in her hair, he growled in frustration at the feeling of her resisting. She had gone rigid, the feeling of the knot in the sash that had kept her robe closed digging uncomfortably into his belly. Wincing, he released her, bringing his hands up to cup her face despite her mewling protestations. "I know it's weird, I know you're confused and so am I, but I'm still me. I promise."

"But you're not!" She suddenly blurted, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as soon as she had said it, muffling a groan as her eyes rolled back and squeezed tightly shut. "I mean, I - 'm sorry, it's just. You're not, are you? Not really."

He backed away from her, holding his arms in the air like a criminal. His head sort of aching as he brought his hands up to massage his temples, he sighed. "I thought he went over this, before, on the TARDIS. With me. Him. The other me. You know him, and you trust him, and he is me, and I am him - me - so you have to trust me the way you trust him - me - you know? Oh, bollocks." He groaned, noting the doubtful look on her face as she clutched the collar of her robe tightly shut, as if he were some random bloke off the street come to paw at her. Really, he did not see why she had to cringe away from him like that. What was the matter with her?

"I know, I just... I just don't know." She finished hopelessly, throwing her hands over her face as she choked on a laughing sob. "It all made sense before, I know it did, but now... 'm head is just buzzing and I can't work it all out. 'm tired, Doctor. 'm sorry."

"It's alright." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took in a steadying breath before offering her the brightest smile he could manage. "I get it." He didn't. "I'm going to have a shower, alright? We don't have to... I'll be out here, if that suits you. A bit of sleep, that's what we need."

Rose nodded, relief softening her features considerably. She dropped her hands from the collar of her robe, letting her arms fold over her chest instead. Awkwardly, they edged around each other as he made his way towards the bathroom.

And as he shut the door, he heard her curse and muffle a low groan into one of the pillows he had elected not to lick.

He had dreamed of seeing her again countless times, getting to spend just one more night with her. This was not at all what he imagined it would be like. Not even close.

A/N: Well, this chapter is a bit longer than the first. I needed to get the travel and logistics out of the way before I could get into the meat of the story, so look forward to that. Also, a bit of smut.

I don't know much about the geography of Norway, especially in the fictional context of the show, but that is where they are. If you are wondering about the car, that's fair, so I'll explain. I don't think that Jackie Tyler had any intention of staying with Rose in their original universe, given that she has Pete and their baby Tony waiting at home in her mansion for her. I think she had planned to come home all along, either via a teleporter or the TARDIS. The car waiting at Bad Wolf Bay is my assumption that given the previous history of that place that it is a sort of jumping over point, as the last hole in the universe to be healed, and thus perhaps the weakest. Jackie would have called Pete and had a car left waiting for them. Looking back, I think I should have written in a driver and car service, but I think it would complicate the dialogue now.

Any thoughts? I hope this doesn't come across as boring rambling! Cheers. TBW.