When Rose woke up the next morning, she almost expected to be in a hospital bed. Once she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her face broke out into a big grin that she couldn't get rid of if she tried. Two adventures in but she still got giddy thinking she was back on the TARDIS, back home.
And back home was where she was going, as well. To see her mother, back in 2005. Rose suddenly felt queasy while brushing her teeth. She technically hadn't seen her mother in almost 50 years, after she and her father died. After so many decades mourning her, Rose was a mix of excited and scared to see her mother again, especially so much younger. She had to keep her emotions in check, something she was honestly never too good at. But nonetheless, Rose kept her grin on and her nausea in check all the way to the quaint kitchen in the TARDIS. The Doctor was already sitting at the table, half eaten banana in one hand and a textbook open on the table. Rose instantly found the kettle and began boiling the water. She lifted the side of the book to see the cover. The Doctor continued reading his page as she did, unbothered.
"Quantum Mechanics." She read aloud, "Cool. Refreshing your memory or just for fun?"
"Both." He answered simply over the sound of the whistling kettle.
Rose poured two cups and grabbed the tea bags from the cabinet above her. She spooned in a bunch of sugar into the striped mug and splashed some milk into the one that said "Aroura 5: Home of the Universe's Largest Ball of Twine". She sipped her tea, the bag still in it, and placed the Doctor's in front of him. He instantly looked up at her curiously.
"Tha's how I like my tea." He said quite unbelieving yet so matter-of-factly.
"Yes, it is." She said back in the same tone.
"How did you know tha'?" She panicked for a moment, grasping at early memories and coming up blank, but kept a straight face for the Doctor. Finally, she pulls a memory out her ass she kind of remembers.
"Well, you told me back at my flat, didn't'cha? I asked if you wanted a coffee 'nd you said just milk." She then gestured at his mug. "There ya are."
He paused, looked at the mug, then stared back at her. "You remembered that?" he asked, disbelieving.
"Well, yeah," she said sheepishly, actually blushing lightly, "I dunno. I didn't think 'bout it."
She honestly didn't think about it. She was surprised she didn't make it how John always liked it, with honey. Or even how her mum always had taken it, milk and two scoops sugar, considering how much her mum was on her mind. But yet, she made the Doctor his tea exactly how this body liked, almost as if she were on autopilot.
She did always made tea for them on the TARDIS, but that wasn't until Jack joined on board. He always took his tea with the bag still in it, just like Rose, but with a dash of hyper vodka. Of course, Rose did not allow that, so he just drank it plain the rest of their time together. Jack was always the last one up because "looking this good takes time, Rosie", so she just made tea for all of them. It's not like the Doctor was going to do it, he was far too "busy" (stubborn) to do such a mundane and domestic task. It had just become this sort of tradition.
After the Doctor regenerated, they had to try a million different flavor combinations to find the right one. Rose had been both amused and disgusted when he took a swig of the first cup with just tea and milk then immediately spit it out all over the table. Cup number three was when the novelty had worn off and it had just become gross. Cup number seven was a success, so she got used to making it that way instead. And then, she'd done it just about every morning in Pete's World, too. Up till the day he died, she made him tea. Unless, of course, she was cross at him, then he made her tea.
She mulled over these memories in her own little world, sipping her tea. The Doctor kept his eyes on her. How did she remember how he liked his tea? Why did she make him tea, anyways? It's not as though he asked, she just did it as if she'd done it a thousand times before. And casually lifting his book cover to read it? And he let her! It just all felt so natural with her, he couldn't explain it. There's just something about this Rose Tyler that he couldn't figure out.
His textbook lay open in front of him, but the Doctor was too busy studying Rose. She was staring into her cup of tea, sipping it occasionally, paying no mind to the Doctor's heavy stare. He was looking at her so intently, it was almost like he was trying to commit her profile to memory, trying to sear her onto his eyelids. He took his time looking her over, reading her like he would his book.
Her hair was all swept to one side, lying down her shoulder where she twisted it in her fingers. She obviously dyed it blonde, but yet it fit her better than anything else the Doctor could picture. It looked soft, despite the peroxide coloring. And the Doctor could faintly smell her shampoo from where he sat, due to his superior Time Lord senses of course. Strawberry and vanilla.
Her hazel eyes were trained dreamily on the steaming cup sitting on the table. Those eyes seemed to hold more than the Doctor thought possible of a 19-year-old human girl. On Platform One, he saw they held a true sadness. Yet, they also held joy and love, which he had seen on many occasions since they met. Not to mention a sort of wild twinkle in her eye, a mad gleam that the Doctor suspected he had as well. But, most importantly and most prominently, they held a strength that the Doctor almost couldn't describe. He saw it in her eyes, like a raging fire, when they argued about Gwyneth and the Gealth in 1869. She seemed like the kind to follow her heart as well as her head.
A small smile was set on her plump pink lips. He liked seeing her smile, especially that tongue in tooth grin she'd displayed quite a few times at the chip shop. He was ready to say anything to get her to show him that smile, and luckily, she showed it often. And that smile was so contagious, he wondered how she did it. How did she manage to brighten all the dark corners of a room with one simple smile?
There was no denying that she was beautiful, especially for a human, but that was just objectively speaking. He was only studying her to get a read on her, memorizing her for purely platonic purposes. But even he didn't fully believe that. He hadn't even known her that long, but he felt like he'd do anything for her approval. He still wasn't sure if that was really Rose Tyler or if that was all due to post war guilt. He wanted someone to impress, someone to show off to and amaze. Someone who didn't know what he had done. Someone who would never know what he had done.
It was at that moment she decided to look up. Their eyes locked and the Doctor had never wished he could disappear more than he had in that moment. So much for cool, confident Doctor. Hello, awkward Time Lord. He was like a deer in headlights, incapable of moving despite the speeding car barreling towards him. And then, she smiled. It was so warm, such a fond expression, he couldn't stop himself from smiling like an idiot back.
"So," she said, standing up, "2005 then?"
The Doctor simply nodded and stood up as well. She beamed at him before turning around and making her way to the console room. He followed her in suit, leaving his open textbook and full mug on the table.
A/N: Yes, I did just spend 4 paragraphs describing how wonderful and beautiful I think Rose Tyler is. Don't judge me. Next part will be continuing the plot with Aliens in London, I promise! Also, thank you so much for the comments and all the love, you have no idea how much it means to me. Really, it inspires me.
