AN: I totally forgot to finish posting out this already completed story. Sorry to all of you that were reading it, but here comes the rest. :)
It was just the Doctor's luck that Rose slept a few hours longer. He has time, finally, to sit and consider his next move. It would be be tricky. Without the party to use as a crutch to dance, flirt, and...imply things to Rose, he wasn't entirely sure how to get the message through to her without frightening her about the future or having her ask questions to the other him.
This was a very delicate balancing act. On the tip of a knife, as it were. And everything depended on it.
There is a noise, and the Doctor looks up to see Rose stretching like a cat in the door frame, golden hair mussed in a glorious nest all around her face, a small strip of pearly skin visible on her belly.
"Morning," she breaths on the release of her yawn.
"Sleep well?" he inquires as politely as he can, almost habitually attempting to remain unaffected by her.
"God, yes," she says with near-inappropriate enthusiasm as she sits across from him at the table. "Hammocks are much more comfortable than I imagined. I think everybody might be sleeping in them if they knew."
"We could put one in your bedroom on the TARDIS," the Doctor offers. "Would certainly free up more space on the floor for you to ball up your clothes."
Still a bit too sleepy for repartee, Rose merely sticks her tongue out at him.
"So we headed home today? You've just reminded me that I have a mountain of laundry to do."
"Yes. Certainly. Home. But not quite yet," he says, stalling. Suddenly he spies last night's teacup sitting on the table. "Have you tried this Saiphan tea yet, Rose?"
She scrunches her face. "Isn't that from last night? It's all cold."
"Nah, it's just as good cold. Give it a try."
Tentatively, she sips at it. "Very...floral," she pronounces. "And a dash salty. And cold."
"Precisely," grins the Doctor, "which is not entirely surprising given where we are." A flash of inspiration overwhelms him. "Rose, have I told you about this world? It's past? The way the culture was formed?"
Rose puts the teacup down and shrugs. "Not really."
"How would you like to learn a bit more about Saipha 2 before we leave? I have a few time periods in mind that we could pop to."
"In the TARDIS?" she asks.
The Doctor nods.
"Doctor, you don't have to stay on my account. I'm feeling much better today. Let's just head back. You seemed pretty keen on it earlier."
"Home will still be there tonight. Time machine remember?" She stares at him, unconvinced. "Think of it as a bit of a detour. How often do you get to see the entire history of a planet?"
Rose raises one eyebrow at him. "Detour? Like the time that we went to Trapanda and almost got eaten by the Salubrious Grues?"
"That was much less of a detour and more of a... rest stop. And besides, the Grues would never have even known we were there if you hadn't rung that bell."
"It was a giant bell sitting in the middle of the forest! It needed ringing. I would think you of all people would understand that."
In the end, Rose agrees. Or at least the Doctor insists sufficiently that she cannot refuse. Together, they set out for the TARDIS. There is a strong sea breeze rolling in off the coast, and as the Doctor walks, he notices Rose eyeing the way his coat ruffles in the wind. Her stare makes him feel strong and confident, for a moment forgetting the fire alarms singing in his time senses.
They trudge up the bluff and Rose pants a bit as they arrive. "Why did you park it so far away?" she grumbles.
The Doctor raises his arms out, signaling all around him. "Look at that view, Rose Tyler. Are you really telling me you would want to miss that view?"
"Maybe if I had a respiratory bypass, I'd enjoy it more," she says. But through her heaving breaths, Rose takes in the view. Beyond the grasses at the edge of the bluff, they look down on crystal blue-green water that spanned for miles in every direction. The horizon is endless and empty. It is truly lovely. And a tad lonely.
As they enter the TARDIS, he immediately begins flipping controls, keying in the coordinates for their short journey in graceful, lithe movements. All the while, he is thoroughly aware of Rose settling down in the nearby jump seat, watching him. It's been too long since she sat there, and it feels so wonderfully right. Energized by her presence, he puts on a little show for her, as he's done so many times in the past. He can tell by her smile that she's appreciating it.
The TARDIS lights dim as they arrive at their destination. He has a few tricks up his sleeve yet. "Stay right there," he instructs her. "I need to get something," he says, dashing into a nearby closet.
"Where would I go, exactly?" she retorts cheekily as the sounds of crashing items sing from the closet.
"Oh, I don't know," hollers the Doctor from the closet. "Wherever you tend to wander off to when I'm not looking. Off to meet cat people, other dimensions, you know the usual."
"Other dimensions? What other dimensions?"
"Found it!" says the Doctor excitedly as he emerges from the closet. It is a small grey box with a knob and an antennae that the Doctor telescopes out. "Shall we head to the door?"
Rose leads the way, opens the door, and her breath momentarily leaves her body. Beyond the door is the vacuum of space, with the planet looming large below them. They are in orbit.
She's seen him do this little trick before, but he still sees a bit of hesitation in her eyes as she contemplates the sheer enormity of the planet. "Why are we up here?" she asks, voice brave but fingers steadying herself gently on the edges of the doorframe.
He squeezes in closely next to her. "Tell me what you see."
Rose squints for a moment. "Water. Loads of it. Everywhere you look. It's a water planet."
"Yes. Water. Nearly covering the entire surface of Saipha 2. Except...look there," the Doctor points towards a small dot in the upper hemisphere.
"Is that little dot the island?" she says in disbelief. "That island, that was the entire population of the planet?"
"Ah. Right question. The answer is nearly. Look there," the doctor gestures towards the other side of the planet in the lower hemisphere.
"So there's another island." states Rose matter-of-factly. "How many are there?"
"Just the two," says the Doctor.
"Two small islands in this enormous expanse of water? Is that everybody that lives on this world? No fish people or anything?"
He smiles and resists the urge to draw her close. "No fish people. Just those two small groups."
He hands her the grey box that he's been holding. "This is a simple wireless control for the TARDIS."
Rose looks at it and then looks at him. "You're joking," she insists. "This dumpy little box controls the TARDIS?"
"Hey!" he says in mock offense, "I just rigged that up for you in a two minute span! I'm sorry it's not pink and covered in sparkles."
She is eager to sooth his smarting ego, which isn't really smarting all that much, but he does love the soothing parts.
"Turn the knob to the left," he instructs. "And watch."
Rose twists the knob gently left, and it's as if the planet is kicked into rapid reverse. Screaming into motion, the planet reverses its rotation under them, and then accelerates. Clouds and storms fly by faster than she can blink. "Am I...rewinding the planet?" she says in utter awe.
"Sort of, yes. You're sending the TARDIS back farther and farther in time. The illusion that's created is that the planet is going backwards. Try going a little faster," he suggests.
She clenches the knob and wrenches it further to the left. The planet begins rotating so quickly that she starts to feel dizzy.
"That's perfect right….there," the Doctor says, and he places his hand over hers to bring the knob back to steady, which steadies Rose in kind.
"We've gone back nearly a thousand years. Tell me what you see."
Directly beneath them were the two islands, near the equator. They were directly adjacent to each other. Almost touching. "The two islands have moved," she says with excitement. "And moved quite a lot for just a thousand years. They're almost one island now."
"Good girl," says the Doctor. "Unlike Earth, where your continental systems are rooted to the mantle, Saipha's two tiny islands gently float on the oceans."
He continues in the story-telling voice that he saves just for her, when he wants to emphasize the significance of something. "Two dramatically different civilizations evolved on those two islands. But then, a millennia ago, the sea currents changed and brought the two islands into alignment. The civilizations were a bit skeptical of each other at first, but over time they grew to like each other. They lived in peace. They gave each other gifts. They married their children to each other. Eventually they built bridge after bridge between their two islands until they became one."
He can sense Rose's eyes on him, and he knows what question was coming next. "We didn't see any bridges," she says tightly.
"Twist the knob to the right just a smidge." The world below speeds forward, but slowly enough that the path of the islands through time are visible.
He narrates as she watches. "The islands don't move easily. They are heavy and cumbersome. But there was a hot spot, which led to an earthquake, which led to a tidal wave. And one day, the Saiphans woke up and instead of bridges, all there was was a beach. The other island washed far away. Family members, good friends, and loves lost, and they didn't know whether they would ever see them again."
Together, they watch the other island drift farther and farther away. Releasing her hold on the knob, Rose looks up at him. Her eyes are shining with tears.
Her empathy for the Saiphan's loss is palpable, and his heart swells for her. He's seen too much darkness in the universe to mourn every small tragedy. He tries. He wants to, but sometimes his old heart is too tired and bled too dry. But one look at her eyes, and his empathy for the universe is reawakened. And he can't fathom how she does it.
"Why are you showing me this?" she asks, voice cracking.
He finds her hand and squeezes it reassuringly. "The story's not done yet."
Moments later, the TARDIS re-materializes back on the bluff. The Doctor is armed with his grey box, and motions for Rose to follow. They are both somber and quiet as they trudge down to the beach.`
He can't help but flick his eyes towards her approximately every ten seconds to make sure she's okay. Words swirl in his head: both babble that he could use to fill the silence, and words of significance. But nothing is going to carry his message quite so well as what they are about to witness. So he stays unnaturally quiet.
They reach the beach as the sun begins to dip in the sky. Hundreds of Saiphans are gathered on the beach and they stand in a single line, with arms linked, facing the horizon.
The Doctor hangs back and Rose follows suit. "When are we?" Rose asks.
"About a hundred years after their islands separated."
"What are they doing?"
"Just watch," he urges.
She doesn't need to wait long, because at that moment, the sun dips below the water. And the Saiphans start to sing.
The song starts with all of the Saiphans on the left. A light, frivolous melody sung in a high register that makes Rose want to dance. Then after a few verses, the song is continued by the Saiphans on the right. They sing a lower, more serious sounding melody that sounds old and wise.
The sun reaches the halfway point in its descent into the water, and the song pauses for a moment. Then it tumbles forth, both groups of Saiphans joining their parts, singing them simultaneously in a wondrous counterpoint.
In the middle of it all, the Doctor hands her the wireless controller. "Fast forward it," he says.
She goggles at him. "Will it work all the way out here?" He nods. As instructed, she turns the knob and people and ocean waves go flying by. After a minute, she stops. "How far have I gone?" she asks.
"About five hundred years," he responds. "And look."
Rose looks. And once again she sees Saiphans, dressed slightly differently, but linked arm in arm singing their entwining duet into the sunset.
The Doctor leans in close enough to whisper in Rose's ear. "You could keep moving forward. A decade, a century, even a millennia. And every day the scene would be the same. Every day at sunset, the Saiphans come here and sing. They sing the duet that mourns their lost family. They sing for their other halves."
His voice still tickling in her ear, he reaches down for her hand. He can feel her pheromone levels jump up and he knows he's having an effect on her. He prayed it was the right effect. "They sing to remember, Rose. And no matter how far they've separated or how long they've been apart, they still hope to be reunited again."
She is still for a long moment and then looks up at him. "Can I..?" her eyes flicked over to the Saiphans. She wants to join them.
He drops her hand and takes the controller from her. "Of course, Rose." he said smiling. She runs to the side of one of the Saiphans and links arms with her. It was just like her to dive in like this. Rose was never the passive observer. She wanted to connect with everything firsthand, a trait that somehow allowed him to connect with it too.
He stands back, eyes dark, watching her singing, studying her. Does she understand what he's trying to say? To not lose hope? That they'll find their way back to each other?
He spends a moment consulting the timelines and curses bleakly. They still feel dangerously paradoxical. Nothing has changed. He is failing.
As the sun disappears below the horizon, he watches Rose mingle with the Saiphans, offering hugs and smiles. And suddenly, the parallels of their singing become too much for him to bear. Despite all his efforts, he is going to lose her again. His joy of reuniting with Rose is turning to ashes in his mouth at the prospect of losing her once more. Overwhelmed with sudden grief, he turns to return to the TARDIS.
As he reaches the cliff top, he realizes that she has not been far behind, following him at a distance. He turns to see her surface on the clifftop path, the sky streaked with velvety blue twilight behind her.
She is humming, and as she approaches, the humming transforms into a gush. "What an incredible day this has been, Doctor. We should have more days like this. Really learn the history of a place. It provides so much context!"
He is mourning her already, cursing his own failure to solve this simplest of puzzles, and he can't help but let his bitterness seep out in his response. "In my experience, context is vastly overrated. Context can be dangerous. It makes you want to try to change things. There aren't many places where it's safe to skip around in the timeline like this."
Heaven knows it's not safe here either. He'd already broken a half dozen of the fundamental laws of time travel today. But she doesn't need to know that.
His harsh tone seems to stun her slightly. He curses himself again. The last thing he wants to do is hurt her. His eyes scan her. As he takes in her beguiling flush from the exertion of climbing the bluff, and her hurt eyes, he notices another botanical wonder tucked behind her ear.
"Well, look at you with another flower. Everybody loves to give you flowers, don't they?" he says stepping towards her.
"I'm Rose for a reason, you know." She manages a small smile.
"Oh, I know," he says, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders and carefully seizing the flower. He turns it in his fingers to examine it. "Hyacinth Proclydia," he proclaims, "A beautiful specimen. Trouble is, you always manage to tuck it behind the wrong ear."
"What do you mean?" she says, a bit breathlessly. He isn't sure if he's having an effect on her or if she's still winded from the climb.
"Now, you've placed it behind your right ear, which, in the fine Saiphan tradition, tells all of the locals that you are available. Single and available. But..."
He stops abruptly, gently snuggling the flower between her windswept hair and her left ear.
"It belongs here," he says, his eyes fiery in the darkness. "Left ear means you're taken."
It comes across more angry and intense than he intended. He wants to possess her. He wants the universe to acknowledge that she is taken, by him and him alone. But once again, his prize is being stolen from him. Time is nearly up.
"Do they ever come together again, Doctor?" she asks, softly touching the flower at her ear and lifting her eyes to his.
"What?" he responds eloquently.
"The Saiphans. Are their islands reunited?"
The question breaks through his despondency like a hammer through glass. He seizes her, pulling her towards him and she squeals in surprise. "Rose Tyler, thank you for asking me that. Thank you for being here with me." He leans his forehead in to touch hers. "The answer is yes. In 1500 years, their islands are pushed within 100 yards of each other. They sing together. They remember. They rebuild bridges. Traditions are restored."
She smiles brightly under him. "So it's a happy ending?"
He smiles back and hides the lie in his eyes. "Would I give you any other kind?"
He escorts her back into the TARDIS, intending to drop her off with his counterpart before the inevitable storm starts. She is still going on about their day.
"To think they still remembered each other after all of those centuries passed by," she says, looking indescribably beautiful on his jump seat. His response is honest.
"If you care about someone Rose, it doesn't matter how many centuries go by. You'll still miss them."
