*Hey troops! First up, I apologise in advance for anyone who gets annoyed at my conception of Rose in this story, as I'm going to take her character to a few different places and not all of them will please Rose fans. But I'll do my best to do justice to the character, I have no intention of screwing over any character except from a narrative perspective. So, this chapter is a Rose-centric chapter with some Whouffle thrown in for good measure and as such there's a smut warning on this chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed thus far, and to the many amazing people who have followed and/or favourited. But also thanks to every single reader, whether casual, loyal, dedicated or obsessed. Please please keep on letting me know your thoughts and don't be afraid to raise any thoughts you have, problems with it or queries :) TPD*
Clara's footsteps were tentative. She walked through the dark back streets, homeless people clawing at her legs and begging for cash. The Doctor was relatively calm beside her but she could tell he was still unsure about bringing her here. London's homeless shelters were amongst the worst in the world and Clara was a pretty young woman, who wore nice clothes and smelled like she actually washed. Clara was wrapped up warmly, wearing a big fluffy coat against the chill of the night but she still felt herself shiver and felt overly exposed. If she hadn't had the Doctor with her, she would have been a lot more worried than she actually was. When the Doctor had told her that he'd been seeing Rose, her initial reaction was confusion and shock. The last anyone had heard off of Rose, she had disappeared off to New Zealand to be with her boyfriend Mickey after breaking Ten's heart. But, here she was, in a homeless haven in Greenwich.
It turned out; Mickey had cheated on her and then left her. Rose, broken and alone, had tried to return home to her mother. But things had changed. Rose had spent all of her money on flights to get home and when she got home, it turned out that her mother had passed away in the five years that she had been gone. With nobody to turn to, Rose had ended up on the streets, unable to find a job and without anyone to turn to. She'd been living rough for two weeks, according to the Doctor, until she'd finally found the courage to ask for help. And the only person she could ask was him. The fact that the Doctor hadn't changed his phone number was nothing short of a miracle, Clara decided but then Rose had needed a miracle. The Doctor hadn't known what to do, but of course he was never going to turn away a person who needed help. Even someone who had hurt his cousin. Clara had a slightly ominous feeling that if Rose had hurt her instead of Ten, the Doctor might have been less forgiving.
She could see why the Doctor had been reluctant to tell her. It was clearly something he was reluctant to get himself involved in, let alone get Clara stuck into. And Clara was close to Ten, which made things even harder and even more awkward. The Doctor had spent the day learning Rose's story and pondering over his options. He had promised to return the following day with warm clothes and some food for Rose, but Clara had insisted that they go back that evening and invite Rose to stay with them. The Doctor was naturally on edge about the whole thing, but Clara insisted that Ten would do the same. The Doctor couldn't argue with that. She suspected he was very glad that Clara had taken the decision out of his hands, even though he'd never admit it.
"Rose?" Clara hissed, weaving through the stares and clawing hands. She was grateful that she'd worn trousers. "Rose are you there, it's Clara and the Doctor?"
They saw her, a few streets away from where the Doctor had left her. She looked wretched, Clara realised, but then two weeks on the streets would do that. She was filthy, her clothes skin and long blonde hair streaked with grime. She was shivering and looked like she was starving. The Doctor had apparently bought her a burger but she couldn't understand why he hadn't done more. He was looking horribly guilty and he'd blamed a combination of not wanting to tell Clara and feeling like he was betraying his cousin. Clara bit her lip. He did have a vengeful streak at times but even by his standards, this was cold.
"Clara? Doctor?" Rose stumbled to her feet and hobbled towards them. "Why are you here? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow Doctor?"
"Well I ended up telling Clara," he admitted. "And she decided that you were coming home with us tonight. You can have a warm shower, get some food down you and then tomorrow we'll talk properly. About Ten, about getting you a job and a place to live…"
But Rose had cut him off with a huge hug, wrapping her arms around his neck and Clara couldn't help but smile as he stumbled backwards. Rose then turned to hug Clara and she felt her windpipe being constricted by the force of the hug. Rose smelled absolutely terrible, like she'd climbed out of a sewage pipe. Clara was released and they trudged out of the back streets, back onto recognised roads. They took the train back to their house and Rose showered while Clara picked out an old pair of pyjamas that she hadn't worn in a long time. They were very baggy on Clara but Rose was much bigger so they fit a lot better on her. Rose was extremely grateful and kept on telling the Doctor and Clara exactly how grateful she was. She had a cup of tea and scoffed down some chips they'd picked up on the way back and then crashed straight into bed. The Doctor and Clara ate in silence and he was watching her carefully. Eventually, as they themselves tucked into bed, he was still looking at her awkwardly.
"Are you angry at me?" he asked and Clara bit her lip. "For not telling you about Rose?"
"I'm disappointed," she replied after a moment's thinking. "Disappointed that you didn't offer to put Rose up straight away. Like I did today with Annabelle."
"Annabelle?" The Doctor's brow furrowed and Clara sighed. They hadn't had a chance to talk about that mess either, or Ten's oncoming storm. Clara groaned. She didn't want to relieve anymore of her day than she had to. She talked as quickly as she could, filling in the Doctor on Annabelle's problems but deliberately keeping quiet on her suspicions about Ten. With Rose back in the picture, that relationship was about to get a hell of a lot messier anyway. In an ideal world, they could get rid of Rose before Ten needed to know. But finding her a job and a flat wouldn't simply be that easy. Rose had dropped out of uni, so all she had were her A-levels and although they were fairly impressive, she'd been out of the country and had no work experience to speak of. Some bar work halfway across the world wasn't exactly going to cut it. She could get a job easily enough probably, but it wouldn't be much, she'd need a flatmate of sorts.
The solution seemed to hit both of them in the same instant. Clara turned to the Doctor and the Doctor turned back to Clara at the same time and they shared a grin.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Clara asked.
"I'm offended that you even have to ask," the Doctor retorted.
Rose woke to a comfy bed for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She was embarrassed, but also grateful. Her life had completely fallen apart around her and she was eternally grateful for the Doctor and Clara for picking her up when she was at her lowest ebb. Mickey had left her, her mother was gone. She had no money, no job and nobody to turn to and they had opened up their home to her. She didn't feel worthy of it, especially after everything that had happened with Ten. It had always been in Rose's nature to run when she was scared of commitment. The irony was that she had run into a commitment, on the complete other side of the world. To this day, she wasn't sure why she had dumped David and travelled to New Zealand with Mickey, but she regretted it. When she considered the life that she could have had here, with him, then it made no sense for her to have jumped ship from it. Maybe the world was punishing her for her poor choices.
Clara knocked on her door gently, a plate with a pancakes on it in one hand and a mug of tea in the other when Rose answered it. Rose devoured the pancakes and even if they hadn't been the only nice thing she'd eaten in weeks, they would still be the nicest pancakes that she had ever had. After breakfast, she sat with the Doctor and Clara who kept shooting each other nervous looks. Rose felt the small pit in her stomach rising. They clearly weren't going to throw her out onto the street but it wasn't as if they'd magically fixed her life either. Clara started, after what seemed like an eternity of chewing on her lip. Rose wondered how Clara's lips looked so pretty and red, she chewed them all the time from what Rose could see and remember.
"We can get you a job," she started and Rose heaved a sigh of relief. "But it won't be pleasant and it won't pay very much," Clara warned. "And you won't be able to start until September either, and it'll mean I'll have to pull strings which I didn't even know I had. We'd give you a job with the Doctor but we can't because everything goes through Ten and we don't want him knowing you're around."
"You need to keep your distance from my cousin," the Doctor warned. "He'll be angry with us if he finds we've been hiding you but we both agree it is in his best interest not to find out. He's engaged, to a lovely girl called Martha and the last thing anyone wants is to screw that up. If you mess things up for him, you can forget about us helping you."
So they were playing good cop, bad cop? Rose wouldn't have had the Doctor pinned as the bad cop but apparently that was the way round they were doing it.
"Rose, we've found you a flat and we're willing to cover the first three months' rent," Clara sighed, with another nervous bite of her lip. "But only because you'll be sharing with someone who needs a lift up, nearly as much as you do. A friend of mine, her name is Annabelle. I'm not sure if you two really met much back at uni, so I'd be surprised if you remembered her."
"That's amazing," Rose gushed, wanting to hug them all over again. "I'll pay you both back, every penny, I promise. I proper promise." And she would. She promised herself that, there and then. "What is this job?"
Clara allowed herself a smile at this. "You're going to have to be a dinner lady…"
Clara didn't know how on earth she was going to sell this to Annabelle. But she felt terrible for Rose and wasn't about to throw her to the wolves. The Doctor had been remarkably quiet about the whole thing. He hadn't said much at all and after they had spoken to Rose, he had retreated to his study. Clara had taken Rose out shopping for some clothes and had arranged to meet Annabelle the next day. Annabelle had sounded somewhat irritated and sceptical when Clara said that she had an idea to help out her friend, but if Annabelle was going to be arsy about it, Clara would just ask for her help, rather than try and make it seem like she was offering it. Not that Annabelle would buy it for a second, but maybe it would at the very least let her pride relinquish enough to accept the deal. The whole situation felt uneasy to Clara, but at least she had the opportunity to help out Annabelle without Annabelle having to feel like she was taking charity off of them. Clara had no such reservations when it came to Rose. Rose knew that she was getting their charity and that it was through pity. Clara was hoping that that would be what kept her away from Ten. Ten and Martha might not be perfect together, but Rose still had no right to stick her neck in.
When they got back, Rose went upstairs to try on some of her new clothes and hang the rest in the wardrobe. Clara went to check on the Doctor, who was still up in his study. She could tell that he was on edge and him being on edge automatically made Clara on edge. His head was buried in his laptop and he was typing frantically. He didn't hear her enter and it wasn't until she was tapping on his shoulder that he reacted, jumping a mile before turning and smiling on instinct when he saw her.
"Clara," he greeted, standing and pulling her into a quick hug and they kissed. "How did it go with Rose?"
"Fine," Clara replied, sensing the tension building in him. "You don't like her being here. You don't like the fact that we're helping her." They weren't questions. Clara knew the Doctor, knew that what she was saying was the truth; she didn't need him to confirm it. He did anyway, inclining his head slightly, and turning away from Clara to the laptop, slumping back into his seat. Clara massaged his shoulders gently and she could feel him tense up at her touch.
"I'm sorry," he said eventually. "I don't know how to feel about Rose. Part of me, a great big part of me, hates her for what she did to my cousin and doesn't feel that she deserves my charity. But then, she's desperate and she needs help and what happened between them was just one of those things. I can't let her rot on the streets just because she dumped my cousin. What sort of person would that make me?"
"A normal person," Clara admitted, still rubbing his shoulders. She leaned in and kissed his neck and he smiled. He turned and kissed her properly this time, their lips meeting and their tongues connecting. Even after so long, Clara still felt an electric shock race through her at his touch. He was on his feet and Clara ran to lock the study door. They had already christened every room in the house multiple times, so they rarely bothered to make the effort to go for the bedroom. She wouldn't have bothered locking the door at all except Rose was in the house. "Everyone holds grudges, it makes you a good person when you can look beyond them," she continued. "That's why you're the Doctor. My Doctor." She kissed him again now, more ferociously and he responded in kind. His purple jacket found itself discarded and Clara's skirt was ripped away as their kiss intensified.
Her hands were around his neck, tearing into his shoulders, as he mussed her hair. She rolled her eyes. He loved doing that; it was as if he was leaving himself and other people a reminder. Like yeah, look at her hair, that is just had sex hair, don't even doubt it. Clara found it sweet and endearing that he still felt the need to feel proud about the fact that they were having sex. She quietly felt the same way, like she still couldn't believe he was real. She was unbuttoning his shirt now and it was gone in the flutter of a heartbeat. Her bare nipples pressed against his chest as he unclipped her bra and it was only a few more moments before they were naked and he had her pinned up against the wall. She gasped and shrieked his name as her back rode against the wooden panelling. She felt cold behind her and the Doctor's heat in front and pleasure was blazing through her. She moaned softly and collapsed, letting the Doctor do all the work as she clung to him for dear life.
After what seemed like an eternity, with orgasms hitting Clara in waves, the Doctor let out one final, huge grunt and almost dropped her. She pushed off and he plummeted, her landing on top of him, still inside each other. To say it hurt would be an understatement, the Doctor letting out a strangled cry and Clara wanted to scream. She rolled off of him, gasping.
"Never do that again," the Doctor whimpered. Clara agreed with him on that front.
If Rose noticed her considerable limp as she came downstairs to make dinner, she didn't comment. The Doctor had gone back to work, but he was in a lot of pain and Clara had promised to make him feel better later. He was going to hold her to that. Clara cooked quickly and quietly, occasionally shooting a look over at Rose, who was sat in the lounge, watching TV with wide eyes as if the size of their TV was bigger than any she'd ever seen. Clara felt a pang of guilt. Even in New Zealand, Rose and Mickey wouldn't have lived a good life. They had no money, got by but nothing more than that. Clara and the Doctor lived in comfortable luxury, with more money than they knew what to do with. The Doctor quietly donated 75% of his wages to charity and Clara was all for that. She didn't have to teach, but she loved it. It made her feel great about herself and she felt like she was giving back to the community. She hadn't been concentrating on her pasta and it was smoking. Clara swore. The Doctor cooked over twice as much as she did, once they had both agreed to stop skirting around the fact that she was at best an average cook and at worst appalling. Clara made up for it in other ways, by doing the dishes, more of the housework and the like, but the Doctor was the chef in the house.
She heard him thundering down the stairs as Rose offered to set the table. As Rose busied herself, the Doctor tried to resurrect the pasta, which Clara was grateful for. Once she made one mistake, she was rarely able to fix it and things went badly wrong quickly got even worse. The meal was just about edible, due to the Doctor's heroic resuscitation efforts. Clara was sensing that despite her best efforts to soothe the tension, the Doctor was still on edge around Rose. She kicked him under the table and he allowed himself to smile. Rose was clearly feeling awkward but she made the effort to try and engage them both in conversation, asking various titbits about their lives. It made the Doctor more uncomfortable than anything, although Clara was happy to answer the mundane elements to them. Any time she veered near to a topic concerning Ten, the Doctor abruptly changed the subject and Clara couldn't help but feel that the sooner Rose moved in with Annabelle, the better for all concerned.