This took a little longer than I meant it to but it got here in the end, so that's the main thing. Review if you want, hope you enjoy.
12:01pm
Rose had grabbed a couple of books from the shelves and had been flipping through them absent-mindedly for a while. After Donna's outburst, the room had gone very quiet, and both Jack and the Doctor had gone back to their seats. Jack seemed to be very laid back about the whole ordeal, trying to catch anyone's eye that he could and winking at them before settling down to sleep again. Now it must be getting near lunchtime – Rose's stomach had rumbled a couple of times, to her embarrassment – and the books in front of her were not remotely interesting. She glanced over at the Doctor. The argument between him and Jack had been eye-opening, and she was certain that he had not dismissed it as readily as Jack seemed to have done.
For a while the Doctor had been whistling nonchalantly, as carefree and relaxed as ever, but Rose could tell that Jack's last comments about not having any friends and being all alone had really gotten to him. There were just a couple of moments, in between time wasting activities, when Rose had seen his face cloud over, eyes dark and stormy. There was something underneath the over-excited puppy/infamous troublemaker exterior of this boy, something hidden inside him that Jack's words had somehow brought to the surface.
She spent the next few minutes drumming her fingers on the desk and quietly observing everyone else. Donna appeared to be drawing something on the desk – or possibly scratching something into it which, considering the sulky expression on her face, seemed more likely – and did not seem to be inclined to acknowledge that anyone else was in the room at all.
Martha was also in her own little world, though she had risked a shy smile across the room once or twice. Rose got the impression that Martha would be really nice once she had gotten to know her – maybe there would be time later. Right now she needed food, and she was almost relieved when Mr Saxon slammed open the door. Martha gave Jack a swift whack in the back of the head with a pencil case, and he sat up at once, alert and looking for all the world like he had not been just about catatonic a split second earlier.
"Well, lunchtime is upon us." Saxon clapped his hands together with a grin that Rose did not trust one tiny bit. "You'll be eating in here – I'm not risking you lot running around my school unsupervised."
"Excuse me?" The Doctor had put his hand up, something which must have taken him a bit of effort, considering how little respect he had for the teacher in front of him. "Sir, it has come to my attention that the majority of us in this room are extremely thirsty. Surely there is somewhere in our school that we can acquire an antidote to this condition." He spoke extremely politely, but Rose did not miss the slight sarcasm of his words, nor the stress on the word 'our', no doubt in response to Saxon implying that the school was his own.
Saxon regarded the Doctor as though he were a slug that he was expected to let sleep in his bed. "There are vending machines in the staff room, Smith."
"I'll go." The Doctor was already halfway out of his seat, smiling in a show of co-operation, though it did not quite reach his eyes, when Saxon held up his hand.
"No way. Sit." The Doctor glowered at him before slowly doing as he was told. The tension between him and Saxon seemed to crackle in the air like lightning. Rose hoped the Doctor didn't do anything stupid. "You." Saxon pointed at Jack, before glancing at the others. "And you." He pointed at Donna, who was facing away from him with her hood up again, not paying any attention. "Is she asleep? You there, on your feet missy!"
Donna looked up slowly, pushing back her hood before standing up and following Jack out of the room. Rose did not think she had ever seen anyone more reluctant to go anywhere – it was as if she were on her way to the gallows.
They trudged slowly along the corridor on their way to the vending machines, neither one speaking. Jack seemed curious to say the least, but Donna was not paying him any attention, not even granting him acknowledgement of his existence. For Jack, someone who was used to being noticed by everyone, this was too much.
"So, what do you drink?" Donna look over at him slowly, as though she were restraining herself from rolling her eyes at him.
"The blood of my enemies," she spat back, voice laced with so much sarcasm that Jack almost recoiled.
"Really?"
She sighed. "Yes, pretty boy, really."
Jack's hand flew to his hair. "Pretty? Really?"
"Don't try that with me, you aren't gonna squeeze any more out of me. I just used up my monthly quota of compliments on you, you should feel blessed."
"Oh, I do." Jack offered her his most flirty smile, complete with one raised eyebrow and a sparkle of white teeth. Donna merely blinked at him for a few seconds before continuing down the corridor.
To put it mildly, Jack was put out. It was very possible that he had not met someone who refused to fall for his charm since he was about three years old. Donna Noble was an interesting one, for sure.
"Hurry up!" Donna called. She had managed to get quite far ahead of him, not even bothering to look around as she spoke. "I'd like to get back to the library before sunset."
"Yes ma'am." Jack jogged up to her, giving her a mock salute. Donna glanced over at him, a smile brightening her face as she raised an eyebrow.
"Now that's more like it."
Back in the library, the Doctor had suddenly become more vocal. Rose wasn't sure whether it was the absence of Jack that had caused this sudden change in mood, but either way he was suddenly talking animatedly, this time sitting on the desk that was normally occupied by the librarian. It was one of those high desks where the person standing in front of it has to look down to see the person sitting behind it, and Rose found herself getting somewhat sidetracked by the Doctor's converse clad feet swinging back and forth a couple of feet from the floor.
Martha seemed a bit awkward, but also eager enough to abandon her essay writing attempts to chat to Rose and the Doctor. Rose could tell that there was something about the Doctor that was keeping Martha slightly on edge, so she occupied her attention by trying to pry the reason for Martha being stuck in detention out of her. Martha, for her part, remained quiet on the matter, smiling smugly and tapping her nose in the familiar "for me to know and you to find out" gesture. The Doctor found this all highly amusing. It kept him quiet for a little while as well – if there was one thing Rose was sure of it was that that boy certainly had a gob on him.
"What's your name anyway?" Rose swivelled around abruptly, turning from Martha and seeing the Doctor staring at her. The attention of his eyes suddenly made her feel like she had come to school today without any clothes on, and she risked a quick look down to check she was fully dressed before replying.
"Rose."
"Rose what?"
"Rose Tyler."
"Ah." The Doctor grinned at her. "Good name."
Rose shrugged dismissively. "It's just a name. What about you then, Doctor? What's with the nickname, and what's so wrong with John Smith."
At this, the Doctor wrinkled his nose, and Rose could tell she had hit on a sore spot. "I just... apparently it's the most common name in Britain – or, it used to be or something. Anyway, I know sometimes it's good to just blend in, but who wants to be boring?"
"Yeah, 'cause on the other hand, there aren't any doctors in Britain at all. I reckon you must be the only one with 200 miles." Martha laughed at this, smothering it with her hand to avoid becoming the centre of focus. She clearly wanted to see what the Doctor's answer was, and Rose couldn't blame her.
"Ah, but they are just doctors. Doctor Smith, Doctor Jones." He gestured toward Martha and she grinned. "I am the Doctor. The one, the only-"
"The arrogant." Rose allowed herself a grin, tongue curling between her teeth as the Doctor stared at her reproachfully, hand clutched to his chest.
"You wound me, Rose Tyler." She said nothing, continuing to look at him. "Oh alright then, yes, arrogant as well. Happy?"
"Very."
The Doctor scrunched his nose again, looking at Rose as if trying to figure something out. "Are you a virgin?"
For a couple of seconds, Rose just looked at him, not even blinking. By the time her brain had registered the question, both the Doctor and Martha were looking at her. "Do you literally just say everything that comes into your head?" she asked, almost exasperatedly.
"Frequently," the Doctor admitted. "And, by the way, I notice you did not answer my question."
"That would be because it's none of your business."
"True, but I still want to know."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Curious. Trying to work out what you're about – and yes, I am a poet and I do know it – and that was one of the questions I found myself asking."
"Well you're gonna keep on asking it, because I'm not telling you." Rose wasn't really particularly against telling him, but she didn't really understand why he was asking, or why it was her that he had asked rather than anyone else. "I just met you a couple of hours ago, why am I gonna be sharing stuff like that with you?"
"Isn't that what today's about?" The Doctor wriggled around until he was lying across the desk, head hanging backwards over the edge so his upside down face was facing Rose. "By end we'll all be baring our souls and telling our deepest secrets, I guarantee."
"I doubt it." That was Martha, who seemed opposed to the idea of sharing any of her secrets with either of them."
The Doctor nodded anyway, head bobbing in a slightly disconcerting way, given the fact that it was still the wrong way up. "You have my word, as a Doctor."
