Chapter 10
It was nearly two bells by the time the Doctor returned to the flat. He'd stayed out all night checking and rechecking the readings on his detector and walking through the streets, trying to find any sort of indication as to where the energy was originating from. As he wandered, he'd done his best to push his blunted time senses, straining to pick up anything at all that might tell him if there was a TARDIS nearby. He only succeeded in giving himself a searing headache. Not being able to properly use his Time Lord abilities was maddening.
The efforts had left him exhausted and badly in need of some actual sleep. He hadn't had any in over a week, longer than usual even for him. The temptation to join Rose in the bed was strong but he wasn't sure that he was even welcome there right now. Instead, he flopped on the lime green sofa they'd chosen together at the residential goods facility. It was hideous to look at but remarkably comfortable and long enough for him to stretch out on. He was out like a light mere moments after kicking off his trainers.
Rose found him in the morning, sprawled out like a little kid, using his overcoat as a blanket. It looked as though he'd slept fitfully; his hair was even more mussed than usual and his brow was furrowed even now. Gently, she reached down to smooth back the fringe from his face. She ought to wake him, it was getting close to seven and he'd need time to dress for his shift, but she suspected he hadn't been getting enough rest with all of his energies focused on building his device. Instead, she went to put the kettle on and retreated to the bedroom to finish getting ready herself. He'd wake when it whistled.
In the room, Rose tucked a change of clothes into her bag with her notebook for after her shift. She'd gone with her new girlfriends to the clothing exchange earlier that week to find something fun to wear to the festival. Tonight would be a good night to interview more people since so many of them would be in the square celebrating. She'd tell the Doctor about her project this evening, she decided. It was silly to keep avoiding him; she missed her best mate and he'd be able to help her figure out what could have happened to their kidnappers.
Sweeping her hair up and securing it with an elastic, she returned to the main room after hearing the Doctor's surprised yelp at the sound of the kettle boiling. He was groggily pouring the water into mugs in the kitchen when she entered.
"Good morning, Doctor," she greeted him.
"Morning Rose," came the reply.
She smiled and stepped in to remove her favorite porridge mix from the cupboard, retrieving a second bowl for the Doctor as well. "You ought to go wash up. You've only got about half a bell till the morning shift starts."
He frowned and muttered something about how the science team didn't properly have shifts, exactly, and he could arrive at any time he wished, but he did retreat to the bedroom to get ready. She heard the water turn on in the bath as she sat down to eat her breakfast. She felt better already. It just wasn't the same when she wasn't spending time with him, no matter how frustrating he could be sometimes. He emerged a few minutes later, damp and wearing a dark shirt and trousers. She nudged a bowl of porridge and bananas over to him wordlessly and tried not to follow the droplets of water from the shower that trickled down his throat and under his shirt with her eyes. He caught her looking anyway and gave her that brilliant smile of his, eyes crinkling at their corners. Not for the first time she cursed him for changing his face on her. It was a lot easier to remember that he was much older than she was before. Didn't he know how hard it was to just be friends when he insisted on being so fit and charming all the time?
Bloody aliens, she mentally grumbled.
They walked together to their jobs, holding hands without thinking, marveling at the festival decorations that had gone up the previous night, and making plans to meet in the square after their shifts had ended. The Doctor told Rose that he'd completed his detector but said only that he would talk to her about the results once he'd done more testing today. She deserved to hear the truth about his people and why the fact that he'd found evidence of their technology was such a worry for him, but that was a conversation that would require more time and privacy than they had before Rose's shift started. They parted ways and Rose headed to the food processing warehouse with a bounce in her step that had been missing for several weeks.
At the science building, the Doctor went to find Gregory in his lab and show him the data from his detector. Maybe he'd have a suggestion of how they could fine tune the device or use their other sensor equipment to triangulate on the source. Right now it looked as though the energy readings were emanating equally from the barrier itself, but that did them little good in terms of locating a control matrix. If this was indeed a Time Lord project they'd stumbled into, then he suspected they'd have hidden a master console somewhere. It irritated him that he hadn't sensed anything so far, but he was beginning to suspect that the city's creators had deliberately designed this place to scramble the senses of time sensitive races. He could think of only a few reasons why, and none of them were good.
The festival was already in full swing by the time the Doctor left the science building. The normally modestly popular public square was packed with people; many of them already seated in the grassy amphitheater watching the first musical performance of the evening or queuing to sample special, festival-only sweets and nibbles from the stations at the edges of the square. Everyone wore their brightest, most celebratory clothes and mingled in the crowd, greeting friends and neighbors with an amiable cheer that suggested the drinks were flowing plentifully already.
Gregory spotted his husband chatting with Richard and left the Doctor to join them, eager to share the data they'd managed to scrape together that day. The Doctor set out to find Rose only to be temporarily waylaid by Mae Bracewell bearing frothy drinks. It was nearing sunset and he was feeling slightly heady by the time he managed to catch sight of Rose's blonde ponytail in the crowd. She'd switched her normal work clothes for a knee length swingy blue skirt and polka dotted top and was talking with an older woman, what was her name again, Chantrea?, in a green dress. His hands moved involuntarily to smooth his hair and adjust his non-existent tie as he walked toward her.
Rose was glad to be done with work for the day, as a large part of her shift had involved delivering food and drink to the festival. Her arms were sore from lifting boxes all morning and afternoon. Some well-deserved hard cider was currently doing its best to ease her aches and pains. She wondered what was keeping the Doctor.
She was just about to start searching for him when Chantrea approached her, looking uncharacteristically agitated.
"Rose, I'm glad I found you. Have you spoken with the Doctor yet?" she asked.
Rose shook her head. "No, I was just about to go look for him, why?"
Chantrea glanced around nervously, even checking over her shoulder, "I really shouldn't say here, but you said he's an expert on this sort of thing... I think I've discovered something he ought to know about." Her eyes caught something or someone in the crowd behind Rose and she hurried off, calling, "come find me later!" as she left. Rose tried to see who it was she had been chasing, but her form was already lost in the sea of partying residents.
Turning back around, Rose was surprised to see the Doctor walking towards her. He had an odd expression on his face but seemed pleased to see her.
"Rose, there you are!" He gave her a loopy grin and closed the distance between them to scoop her up into a hug, twirling her halfway around.
"Oof! Hello Doctor," she managed.
He released her and starred into her eyes for a few beats before suddenly adopting a much more serious tone. "I've found something. We should talk. Not here. Somewhere private."
Rose laughed and said, "you're the second person to say that to me tonight," but the Doctor was too busy looking around to find a place for them to go to notice.
He tugged at her hand and led them out of the square and down an adjacent alleyway that took them further away from the music. They had to walk a fair distance to find a relatively quiet corner free of other residents sneaking off for an uninterrupted snog. The Doctor leaned up against a brick wall and pushed his hands into his pockets, his hunched posture making him seem, of all things, nervous. Rose was starting to become worried by his behaviour.
"Rose," he began uncertainly, "do you remember what I told you about the Time War?"
She frowned, this was not what she'd expected him to say. "Just that it was horrible and that you were the only one of your people to survive, yeah?"
He nodded and chose his next words carefully. "I think I've found something that suggests that whatever Corazón Perdido is, it was built using Time Lord technology."
She gasped, realising that this was important, but not sure what exactly it meant. "But I thought it was all in a time lock?"
His mouth pressed into a thin line, "exactly." He started pacing as he talked, "It's certainly possible that something got left behind, unlikely, but still possible; I mean, I made it out alive after all, and I wasn't even trying to." He moved on quickly before Rose had time to process the full import of that admission. "And under different circumstances, I'd say it's great news, but if there are other Time Lords here, where are they? I should be able to sense them, but I can't. Rose, I can't sense anything right now and if this is a Time Lord creation, that's bad, that's very bad."
"Doctor. I don't think there's anyone still here," Rose said quietly.
He whirled around. "Why do you say that?"
So she told him about her project and the mysterious change in transports just over five years ago. He listened intently and when she finished with her conclusion that the city had been left on autopilot after something happened to its controllers, that something which must've been to do with the Time War, she reasoned, he took her in his arms again, proclaiming, "Rose Tyler, you're brilliant! You are!"
He pulled back from the tight embrace but kept his hands on her arms. Her hazel eyes searched his face when he didn't let her go. The air seemed to crackle around them, that unbidden spark of tension returning in an unexpected rush. Rose's heart caught in her throat as the Doctor's expression shifted and he moved his hand to brush a stray bit of hair back from her face. In his head, long ignored synapses were firing rapidly; he was fighting a losing battle against his sober judgment that this was a bad idea. His hand lingered against her cheek. Oh sod it, he could be a miserable old man later, he told himself and bent to press his lips to hers.
He hadn't really meant it to be more than a gentle peck, he'd tell himself later, under the delusional assumption that he had any self control. But damn if either of them regretted it, deepening the kiss until they were pressed tightly together, hands wrapped around their bodies as their mouths worked to capture each other more thoroughly. She tasted of festival sweets and cider and that essential Rose flavour and for as long as he lived, he was never, ever going to let himself forget this moment.