Chapter 7

It was thirty minutes before Rose and the Doctor reemerged from the dessert bar, plainly satiated from the decadent treats they'd consumed. Not long afterwards they found themselves in downtown London, looking for all the necessary clothing and accessories that the hybrid needed to continue his new life.

The first stop was for suits and coats, at the Doctor's insistence. They had picked out a black leather jacket, which the Doctor had to admit fit and looked smashing on him, and the Doctor had selected a black suit with white pinstripes and a brown suit with red pinstripes. In addition, he also picked out two simple black leather belts that would go with any suit.

Rose was just looking at a collection of colorful jacket separates when she heard the metacrisis laugh with delight.

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed as he regarded himself in the mirror, turning his body right and left.

She turned towards him to see what he was talking about and gave out her own laugh of joy at seeing him wearing a long brown wool coat. For a split second, she could have sworn that the Time Lord had ripped open the universe and was standing before her. Again, she had to remind herself that the man in front of her, even with only one heart, was her Doctor, just different. His finding the coat was just more proof of that.

He strode towards her quickly, excitement glinting in his eyes. "It's just like the one Janis gave me! Right down to the color! Buy it for me, Rose," he requested. "Please, oh please, oh please, buy it for me. You know I loved that coat and, if I can't go back to get it, at least I want one just like it. Please? Please. Please," he repeated continuously until Rose's finger on his lips stopped the recurrence.

"Yes, I'll buy the coat but only if you stop asking," she told him gently, almost like a mother berating her child. "Give me your sleeve so I can take the tag off. I have a feeling that you aren't going to take it off for the world."

"Nope!" he agreed with a broad grin. "Never ever. Well, I really shouldn't say never ever. I mean, I do have to take it off to go to bed."

"Doctor…" she drawled, shaking her head. She reached down and pulled up his sleeve to remove the price tag as she continued. "You certainly weren't so… annoyingly persistent before."

"Annoying?" he questioned, clearly affronted. The look on his dearest friend's face told him not to press the subject, which in turn caused him to really think about how he'd just behaved. "Oh. Right. I was a bit annoying, wasn't I. Must have got that from Donna." His face contorted slightly with reluctant admission. "She can be persistent."

Rose gave the price tag to the sales associate before turning back to him. "I want you to try something on."

"Not another jacket," he complained.

She held up the article of clothing she'd been looking at before he'd had his enthusiastic outburst. "Just try it on and see if you like it."

The Doctor regarded the dark red jacket for a long moment, a slight grimace slowly growing on his face. "It's velour," he commented.

"Yeah. So?"

"So, I'll look like a pimp," he stated bluntly.

Rose grinned at his response. "You won't look like a pimp if you wear black with it. Trust me. Besides, you're going to need at least four or five suits for black tie events…"

"Black tie?" he protested. "Oi, I'm not wearing black tie. Every time I wear black tie, something bad happens. Cybermen, mutating scientists, crashing space cruiseliners… No. No black tie. N. O. Never. Never ever."

She sighed dramatically. "Too bad," she said silkily as she regarded the jacket with obvious longing. "A man in black tie is like a gift. Makes me want to… unwrap him."

The Doctor lowered his eyelids. "Making sexual innuendos isn't going to change my mind, Rose," he said despite his heart rate increasing slightly due to her words. "Besides, why would I have to attend a black tie event? It's not like anyone here knows me other than your family."

"May I remind you of the paparazzi who just took our picture in the dessert bar? You are officially in the public eye now," she told him bluntly, forcing the jacket against his chest and causing him to grip it in order to prevent it from falling to the floor. "My family is rich and famous. We have an obligation to attend certain events in order to maintain good public relations, especially since Dad runs both Vitex and Torchwood. And if you and I are going to have a relationship, you're going to have to participate." She paused, a genuine smile emerging. "Besides… you really are sexy in black tie."

"Seriously?" he questioned, his voice rising slightly. Seeing her eyes glimmering with admiration, he took a breath and exhaled loudly. "All right," he conceded. "I'll try on the pimp jacket."

"Try it with black and you'll see what I mean," she instructed. She watched with satisfaction as he grabbed a pair of trousers and walked into the changing room.

A few minutes later, the Doctor stepped out with the trousers and the jacket on, his newly acquired long coat over the outfit. He frowned as he regarded himself in the full length mirror. "I really don't see…" he started.

She sighed, going to him and removing the long coat. "That's because you aren't wearing a black dress shirt," she told him firmly. Grabbing a black shirt from a rack, she put it up against his chest and wrapped the velour jacket around it. "You'll be knocking the girls off their feet, especially this girl."

He still looked doubtful. "Rose…"

"It suits you," she said bluntly as she took the jacket off him.

Seeing her add it to the growing collection of clothing to be purchased, he sighed. "I suppose since you are insistent on me getting that jacket, I'll have to get a couple of black trousers and dress shirts to go with it."

"While you're at it, you might as well pick out a couple of waistcoats for other outfits," she added to the list. "And ties."

"Waistcoats? What is this? An episode of 'What Not to Wear?' Going to toss all of my wardrobe, are you?"

"Doctor, you don't have a wardrobe to toss," she told him.

He shrugged his concession to her words, allowing her to continue to pick out clothes and have him try them on. He had to admit that he did look rather dashing in the cream suit with waistcoat that she selected. And the various colors of dress shirts and ties really did fit in with his sense of haut couture. However, he absolutely refused to wear any dress shoes, instead pleading with Rose for several trainers in a variety of colors. In the end, she bought the trainers he'd wanted on the condition that he procured one pair of dress shoes rather than the three she had wanted.

Finally after four hours of clothes shopping which tallied up to six suits, three separate trousers, six dress shirts, three separate waistcoats, six ties, six pairs of shoes, three dress jackets, one leather jacket, and one long coat, the Doctor and Rose decided that it was time for a break from shopping and to get a early dinner. Going to a local café that Rose had obviously become a regular at, the two were seated fairly quickly and were looking at their menus.

The Doctor frowned with disconcertion at the menu.

"What's wrong?" Rose questioned, seeing his concern.

"Actually, it's a bit embarrassing. Yesterday morning it was fine… well, sort of. Tad bit of a problem then. Well, more than a bit of a problem. Really has been progressing every day since we arrived… Was a bit of a problem in the dessert bar, actually…"

"What is it?" she pressed gently, interrupting him to halt his ramble.

He took a slow breath before giving her a meaningful look. "I think I need glasses."

Rose blinked at his words. "You used to wear glasses all the time, Doctor."

"Yes, but I never really needed them," he complained. "I only wore them because I thought they made me look clever. Well, they did magnify objects when I needed to do more detailed work than the naked eye could see but that's different than needing them to read."

"You wore them because you thought they made you look clever," she repeated with amusement. "You certainly succeeded in your intention."

"Now my arms aren't long enough for me to read anything clearly," he continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Oh, I could read it but… I don't like fuzzy lettering." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Donna didn't wear glasses. Neither did Wilf or Sylvia. Must have gotten it from her father's side of the family. Certainly didn't come from my side."

Rose laughed gently at his ill-fated predicament. "We'll get you a pair of glasses," she assured him.

"Good," he responded with a nod. "That's good… I suppose." He sniffed slightly. "Being able to read clearly would be nice." A mischievous grin grew on his face. "And I do look sexy in glasses."

"Shut up," she countered, her laughter escalating causing him to chuckle as well. "We'll go to Dad's optometrist," she decided a moment later. "He takes patients without an appointment and he keeps secrets well. He's on retention with Torchwood." Seeing the confusion in the Doctor's eyes, she reminded him, "Your eyes might not be completely human."

Comprehension filled his brown orbs. "Yeah. That might be a problem with those not in the know about extra-terrestrial life."

Even as he spoke, their server came up to take their order. The metacrisis decided to get a club sandwich with crisps and Rose ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. Both ordered tea for their drinks. The server assured them that he'd be right back with their order.

As the server left, the half Time Lord leaned back in his chair. "So, what's next on the agenda? I mean, after linner."

"Linner?" she questioned with raised eyebrow.

"Well, sounds better than dunch, doesn't it?" Seeing that she wasn't understanding his meaning, he clarified. "If a late breakfast or early lunch is brunch, then a late lunch or early dinner is linner."

She rolled her eyes, smiling at his words. "Whatever."

He grinned at her reaction. "So… what's after linner?"

"Well, there's your glasses. And we still need to pick up some more clothes and a few sundries. And you need t-shirts, pants and socks."

"Like cologne and a toothbrush and deodorant, et cetera," he supposed. He frowned as he realized what she'd said. "More clothes? Haven't you bought enough for me already? It's nearly five o'clock. Aren't the shops about to close?"

"The mall is open until nine. Besides, I think you could do with a couple of jeans."

"Jeans?" he grimaced. "Must we?"

"Are you getting bored going shopping with me?"

His eyebrows went up at her question. "Not at all," he protested. Seeing the expression on her face, he rethought his response and corrected, "Maybe a little but I know it's necessary. After all, I can't just pull anything I want from a massive wardrobe anymore. Well, I will be able to if you keep up with this shopping excursion. But right now, I'm wondering what I'm going to do for a proper job. I haven't had a proper job in nearly eight hundred years. There was UNIT and the school but in both cases I had ulterior motives, the first being to try to get the TARDIS to work and the second… well, you were there for the second. They weren't exactly proper jobs."

She grinned at his words. "Hard to believe you actually had a job at one time."

"Well… it was more of a position than a job. I was paid for my services but I was sort of a freelance scientist, doing this and that. Helped that my parents were on the High Council. Still…" He let the memory slip away, tucking it into the back of his mind. "Bit difficult to do freelance scientific work without a steady client."

"I did suggest Torchwood," she pointed out.

The Doctor shook his head. "No," he said softly. "I think I'd rather not under the circumstances. I mean… with my history…" He paused thoughtfully before giving a slight huff of a laugh. "Never thought I'd turn down saving the world as a career. Besides, this is my one and only chance to have the quiet life I've been searching for. Might as well start it off right."

"Then what do you think you want to do?"

He considered her question for a moment. "Not sure yet. I'll think of something."

He returned Rose's smile as their meal was served. After dinner, Rose took the Doctor to the family optometrist just as she said she would. He was extremely cooperative with the eye doctor, though it was obvious to Rose that he found the tests to be tedious and annoying. Then, with his new prescription in hand, they journeyed to an eyeglass shop and went through the rituals of finding the perfect pair of glasses for the half-Gallifreyan. Naturally, he drifted towards frames that strongly resembled those that he'd had before, gaining a grin of appreciation from Rose.

With the associate's assurances that the glasses would be ready in an hour's time, Rose pulled the Doctor with her as she entered a shop that specialized in casual wear. Going to a rack full of jeans, she selected a pair and handed it over to him.

"Try it on," she ordered bluntly. Seeing his hesitation, she assured, "You'll look great in them and they're very comfortable. Trust me."

"I've been trusting you all day," he told her with equal bluntness.

"And have I led you astray?"

"Three words: red velour jacket."

"I told you. You look fantastic in it. Just like you'll look fantastic in jeans. Now, go on."

He sighed as he went to do as he was told. When he emerged once again, Rose could feel her heart pounding at the sight of him. The dark blue jeans fit him perfectly, making her want to kiss him senseless. What was best, though, was the surprised look on his face as he regarded himself in the mirror.

"You know? I actually like these," he said mostly to himself. "Look at the way they fit. And they're extremely comfortable. Why didn't I ever wear jeans before? I mean other than my last incarnation, I never wore jeans. Ever. Well, never this form-fitting anyway." He looked at himself again. "I like the way they compliment my shirt. You know, that velour jacket really would go well with these." He paused at his own words, stunned by them. "Oh, sweet lord, I've become a fashionisto." He turned to Rose, pointing an accusing finger. "And it's all your fault. Dragging me shopping brought more Donna out of me. Pretty soon I'll be… figuring out what color lipstick goes with my shoes!"

"I seriously doubt that you'll ever wear make-up, Doctor," Rose told him gently. "And there's nothing wrong with realizing that you look good in clothes other than suits." As she spoke, she handed over a t-shirt she'd found.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Something different."

He looked at the t-shirt with a frown. The black t-shirt was accented by a large silver star that covered the front. "You want me to wear this?"

"It's casual and you need to learn to dress more casual."

"I hate it," he stated bluntly.

"You haven't even tried it on," she protested.

"It's a giant silver star," he retaliated.

"Well, then try on something else, something with a little flair on it." She moved away for a moment before coming back with a different t-shirt, also with a design on the front, this one faded like the other only brown with a manufacturer's logo on it.

"You're wanting me to do free advertising?" he pointed out.

She huffed in frustration. "Well, if you don't like it, pick out a different one."

He gave her a firm look. "I don't wear design t-shirts."

"Five minutes ago, you didn't wear jeans either," she countered. "Just… try it. For me. The one with the star is about as plain as you can get and the other is very popular with the age set you are officially going to be a part of."

For the next few minutes, the Doctor submitted to putting on and taking off a variety of design t-shirts, wondering just when Rose would give up on the futile attempt to influence him into liking the trend. Finally, while he was wearing what he considered an especially atrocious shirt with some band logo on it, Rose sighed, noting the look of abject misery on his face.

"All right," she sighed. "Take it off. It's not you."

He blinked at her for a moment. "But… why not?" Seeing the surprised look on her face, he blinked again, realizing his own words. "Why am I protesting?"

"Maybe because we've been fighting each other all day about clothes and you want, just once, to win," she mumbled to herself.

"Oi, I'm not that petty, am I?" he questioned, concerned about his attitude.

"No," Rose told him gently. "But it's obvious that I'm pushing you into things you don't want."

"But if you hadn't, I never would have discovered how much I like jeans." It was obvious from the look on her face that his words did not have an uplifting effect on her spirit. "I'm sorry I'm being difficult," he said gently. "But this is all really new to me. I mean, I've never had to worry about being fashionable according to the standards of any one culture. Well, not for over nine hundred years anyway. Now I have to adapt to a totally different mindset. I think the only reason I'm even slightly open to fashion suggestion is because I'm part Donna. Otherwise, my entire wardrobe would be pinstriped suits and trainers. What I picked out without your input is just proof of that. I mean, I picked out two pinstriped suits, four trainers, and a brown long coat. Not exactly diverse in fashion sense, am I."

"So, you're not angry with me?" she queried.

"For being pushy?" he questioned back. She glared at him for his choice of words. "Well, you are being pushy, you have to admit that. But that's only because you care and that is very you. Why should I be angry with you for being you when I love you just as you are? If you weren't you, I wouldn't love you, now would I? I'd be loving you for not being you, which really, if you think about that, would make me completely and totally shallow, which I don't believe that I am." He looked into her eyes. "Do you think I'm shallow?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "Of course not."

"Well, then, there you go!" He grinned broadly at her before abruptly going back into the fitting room to take off the last of the "atrocities" and retrieve his own clothes. Coming back out, he continued as if he hadn't left. "Now, at the very least, we know without reservation that I am a plain colored t-shirt with no design person and there is absolutely no doubt about what size I wear, which means that I don't have to try on anything else today, which I'm sure is the reason I've gotten so irritated. That is, of course unless something just happens to strike my fancy. Besides, we still have pick up my glasses. So… are we done here?"

She looked at him for a moment. "Two pairs of jeans? That's it?"

"Well, that and the t-shirts I'm about to pick. And jim-jams. And pants and socks. Need those. Used to not wear socks but I am finding already that I'm going to need them." He paused slightly before adding, his voice lowered, "My feet seem to have a very slight moisture problem."

"Are you saying you have sweaty feet?"

He looked affronted by her words. "I do not sweat; I perspire. And socks will help absorb the excess perspiration. Don't worry, though. I don't think that my feet are prone to intense odor."

"I would hope not," she echoed his words from earlier, gaining a slight grin from her companion.