A/N: So with this chapter we're slowly leaving the hurt/comfort part of Journey's Beginning behind.

A New Task was originally named differently, and it was much longer too. I debated a lot with myself whether to finish and post it as one big chunk or break it into two parts. In the end, I went for the latter. On the plus side this means the next chapter is already half written so hopefully the next update won't take me quite as long.

I hope you'll enjoy the read, and the atmosphere too.

Have a fantastic week, everybody!
TiaKisu

Purple Guest: You are right. What Rose and the Doctor need is some time to get used to each other again. They have spent more than two years apart, three if you count this regeneration, plus there are the memories of days gone by and in which he wore a different face.
It will be a slow process but in the end he will understand that regardless of whether he thinks he is worthy of her in his human form she loves him – full Time Lord or not. :)

Special disclaimer: Browsing through the Nine/Rose section here on FFN I stumbled across another story named "Journey's Beginning" that follows the same idea as this fic does, only that it was written in 2013 already. The author of that fic is An Irish Rose and her work, just like all post Journey's End stories, holds a lot of similarities when it comes to general things like the task mentioned in this current chapter.
I promise that I had no idea this other fiction existed, or else I would have chosen a different title and would have asked for approval and properly credited An Irish Rose for working with the same setting.
Also, I hope the characters in my Journey's Beginning behave uniquely enough as that this is something new. In any case, the plot that will be established after chapter twelve should distinguish it from other versions that may or may not exist out there.


Chapter 11: A new task

The first thing Rose noticed when waking up was that she was not in her bed. Nor was she in any kind of bed at all.

The second was that she wasn't in her room, but definitely in the house she had inhabited for the last two years.

Finally, the third was this deep sense of warmth and security which she had last felt on the alien ship whose song she sometimes heard in her dreams – a tune so ancient that she believed it must have been there at the beginning of the universe itself and yet it also was as new like a just-born star.

Curling up a bit more she drew the blanket that was wrapped around her higher, stuffed her nose under the silken material while she yawned.

Thinking back on the night before she couldn't remember having taken the duvet but then again her memory was hazy anyway, just like it always was in the morning.
As usual there were sounds her tired mind remembered, faint pictures that were yet to be completed; the smell of leather and time, a soft Northern baritone, and Maggie. Nothing out of the ordinary except for – well, except for that there was absolutely nothing normal about those things at all.

The very instant what she recalled truly registered in her consciousness, accentuated and highlighted by the lingering echo of a scent that if she concentrated on it she found to be woven into the very air around her even now, her eyes shot open and all of a sudden she was decidedly awake.

He had told her that the dog wanted to be called something else than 'Daisy' and his room was where she had gone to when she had not been able to find sleep, yet again.
They had talked, and encouraged by her he had fallen into one of his lengthy explanations, reporting with all his maniac enthusiasm of the many theories she couldn't possibly follow even if she tried her best and she had been so content listening to him that eventually she had let herself fall; to give in to the safety that his company was to her and which had enabled her to drift off.

Apparently she still was in the armchair, head nuzzled into rest at the side which drew up right to the top; her arms wrapped around the maroon throw pillow that Maggie had been lying on before.
The small terrier had obviously hurried off already – hungry or greedy for her mother's attention or both - while the Doctor had allowed her to stay. And for the second time in only two days he had tucked her in.
Momentarily, she didn't know whether to be embarrassed or utterly overwhelmed by this repeated gesture of care.

Peeling out of the cover Rose let her gaze roam, dark hazel flitting over sun-touched shelves and the desk that was currently un-occupied. His papers were still scattered there, in a fashion that indicated he had abandoned them just shortly before.
Even from where she was seated she could see the multitude of lines and circles that she knew to recognize as his native language but which otherwise were a mystery to her – between them Arabic numerals, some of them jotted down in a haste and some drawn attentively and with care.

Obviously the Doctor had been productive tonight.

"Welcome to the world of the living. Slept well?"

Before she even had the chance to wonder where he was, his voice came from the window to her left and when she tilted her head into that direction his silhouette appeared in her line of view.

Once again he was leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed in front of his chest though other than the day before this time he looked comfortable and less on guard.
There was a small smile on his face and yet it didn't escape her how beneath the good-natured teasing there was something unobtrusive about the way he spoke that was unlike him, something timid but it was overlaid with pent-up energy, bottled-up and itching him although he knew too well how to control it.
Anyone else but her might have missed this hint that he was just a little out of his element, confined in this situation that was alien and familiar all at once, but she knew him better than that.

"Better than in years actually," she hummed, stretching herself and surprising him with the sincerity resonating in her answer. Pleased by how his head snapped upwards ever so little, Rose let her legs dangle over the edge of her seat before she straightened up. "Though I could definitely do without a stiff neck."

She couldn't help but wince as her muscles protested against the movement, drew her left hand up to massage the offended tissue as she muttered, "Must be getting old."

Of course, she didn't mean that half serious but the rather incredulous look the Doctor bestowed upon her the very instant she said it had her realize that nevertheless it was a somewhat foolish thing to say, considering she was still a good eight hundred and then some years younger than him. To her utter bafflement though, he suddenly snorted.

"Try walking in my shoes, Rose Tyler."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards, pale blue eyes sparkling with something that bordered on mischief but the very second she blinked, it was gone again and he just observed her as if waiting for what she would do.

"Don't think I could," she grinned, daring to venture further into these familiar waters that were their banters and delighting in how a mock expression of hurt hushed across his features in return. But not yet brave enough to risk and overdo it, she then sobered.
"So," clearing her throat, Rose pushed away from the backrest, "you had a pleasant night, too? I take it you're still not sleeping very often."

Faintly she nodded towards the desk, oddly content to see him shrug affirmatively.

"Looks like it," he declared, watching her, before he frowned just a little.

"Not completely human then?" She made sure her voice was distinctly soft as she drew the conclusion and somehow for his sake she hoped that indeed he still was more Time Lord than he would have her believe. But for a long moment he hesitated, weakly shook his head in what was close to regret.

"That alright?" After a breath of silence he released the question into the space between them, his blue eyes turning a pale grey, and Rose sucked in air.

He couldn't seriously be asking her this, not when he had to know that it would never matter to her that he was different. In light of his barely concealed insecurity that she had no clue where it still came from she felt just a little dumbfounded, then however she remembered the night he had asked her to travel with him – such a long time ago - and she understood that somehow that was where they were again.

Donna had phrased it right after all: Theirs was a chance to start all over; the opportunity to take what they had learned, combine it with everything they held within and build a future from that.

A new beginning.

"Of course it is." She smiled, warmly, her gaze gentle and open so that he might see that she truly meant it. "Always has been, and you know it."

For a heartbeat, the world stopped turning as he just stared at her, processed her words and discerned the real scope of her declaration. She was hiding nothing from him, invited him in, and he felt overwhelmed by what she tried to offer.
He had turned her life into a maelstrom of danger, loss and madness and yet there she was – still accepting him for whatever he was now.

He had absolutely no idea what to say in response to that.

His mouth opened slightly but no sound came out of it while he lingered frozen where he stood. And she seemed to understand, for she smiled – a shy but genuine little crook of her lips that had his arms slacken and the black leather that he wore creak quietly.

"Good." Before he even realized that he was saying that out loud, his breath already left his lungs in a relieved murmur, carrying those four letters to her.
She received it, too, he could tell since her expression changed to something that he knew to label as nothing else but tender and not for the first time he wondered how it could be she would look that way at him at all, murderer that he still was. Always had been, in this body anyway, but she had never seemed to mind - looking straight past the shadows of his soul that was burning cold with ice and the need to run, to a core scarred by loss and searching (for what he had never quite known).

Sometimes, when he was with her, he liked to think that the latter was over.

"Well, then, any plans for today? What do you usually do... here?" His tongue almost tripped over the last word when he cleared his throat and broke the spell that her reassurance had cast on him.
With his right hand waving awkwardly to indicate he meant not only this room but possibly this entire reality he corrected his stance, pushed away from the window and stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his jacket; intent on distracting himself and her from the gravity of this moment.

He wasn't quite ready yet to face their new together – or the lack of it –so he did the one thing he did best: Put on a smile and move on. And the fact that he was indeed curious about her life in this world just made it easier to go through with this change in topic.

For a long second though Rose just frowned at him like she knew exactly what he was trying to do, but if he had been mindful enough to not ask her about Pete and her dad any further, so could she let him have his own way – take his own time. There was no rush, she supposed.

"Usually", she picked up the throw pillow Maggie had slept on and shrugged, "I go to work; look after Tony when mum can't, make sure she doesn't drive me spare. Things like that." Glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes, she suddenly shoved the duvet aside. "I guess I've got some time off now though. Pretty much quit when we realized we'd finally found you."

This had definitely not been the best way to go about it. She could tell by how he tensed up although he probably thought she wouldn't notice.
Just like at the little Norwegian inn his eyebrows furrowed, the air about him shifting to become somewhat charged as his back straightened and he fixed his steel grey gaze on her. Instantly, she felt the compulsion to squirm under it but swallowed her uneasiness down and went on as if what she'd said was perfectly normal.

"If you like we can make a list of what stuff to get for the TARDIS. I know a place or two where we can go. They might not have everything but-"

Involuntary she trailed off, clasping the maroon cushion nervously. His jaw was still set tight, a muscle working in it, causing her to regret having brought up Torchwood and her jumps in the first place (and shouldn't she have known he would react like this, considering he had been just as irritated the day before). Bananas probably wouldn't save her this time.

His grumbling stomach however did.

Through the slowly building silence the low noise rumbled loudly, immediately catching both the Doctor's and Rose's attention. Bewildered, they each stared at the spot the offending growl had come from. And just as if on cue, another followed.

There was no way on Earth Rose could have fought the smirk that made itself at home on her face, not when the Time Lord looked as repulsed as he did now.

Of course did he recognize this horrendous offense to his ears but the idea alone that he was the one producing it was absolutely appalling.

"Maybe we should have breakfast first, yeah?" Silently thanking whichever force had let this play out to her favour Rose dared to let some of her tension go so that she would sound encouraging rather than anything else.

Before he could even do as much as ponder her suggestion she put the pillow down, snatched the comforter and haphazardly draped it over the armrest next to her.
While the Doctor looked just a bit perturbed hearing his very human stomach complain repeatedly, his companion made sure he wouldn't be able to contradict.

"Just gonna get changed," she supplied quickly, getting up and already on her way to the door, "You. Wait here."

For all that this version of her Doctor could be only too intimidating when he wanted to be, she had learned early on during her time with him that it sometimes helped to decide over his head like this. Not necessarily because he would follow the order made, but because it gave him something else to think or grouse about - especially if the demand was particularly ridiculous in his opinion – while she could have her will.
The little trick had often proved to be successful in the past, and telling from how the almost scowl on his face changed into something nonplussed it had lost nothing of its efficacy.

"I'll be back in a mo."

The words were thrown into the room, her right hand already on the doorknob as she turned away from him, ready to burst into the hallway lest he did regain his composure and called her off. One last glimpse she caught of him across her shoulder - then she was already out the door.

The very instant she spun to the right however, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Rose?"

Naturally, her mother just had to be up here.

Even from where she stood, Rose could hear the wheels in the other woman's head begin turning as she, too, halted – taking in the appearance of her daughter and where she just came from.
Jackie Tyler knew exactly who slept where in her house, and she was well aware of who this particular room had been given to.

"Mum, hi" if her bewildered expression didn't get her in trouble, her stuttering certainly would, "What are you doing here?"
The very second that was out she cringed internally. On the very long list of stupid things to say this was pretty much number one but for once her brain had obviously decided to be out of order.

"I was getting Tony ready for the nursery," Jackie replied with only the tiniest hint of bemusement, tilting her head a little in an attempt to steal a glance through the door behind her daughter that was still ajar. "But you know he makes a fuzz when he doesn't have that teddy bear you gave him."

Despite herself, Rose smiled at that. "Mr Tedopoulos."

"Yeah, I still wonder how long it's gonna take him to say that." Screwing her face up, the older Tyler heaved a moan.

She had never really understood just what had made Rose choose that of all names for a soft toy and much to her consternation Tony had instantly accepted his sister's suggestion of reusing it when he had found his own blue bear seated on the birthday table.
As much as Jackie had tried to reason that the furry fellow would surely prefer to be called Paddy or Pooh – both names he could at least pronounce – there had just been no convincing him. Which, on the other hand, shouldn't have surprised her at all.

"I swear, sometimes you could think that boy is yours," she muttered in mild exasperation and shifted her weight to her other foot. "Anyway, we've gotta go now. Help yourself to something to eat. There should be enough in the kitchen. I'll do some grocery shopping later so if you or himself" she nodded vaguely towards where she suspected the Time Lord stood, "need anything, let me know."

For a moment, Rose felt compelled to defend herself because there was something in the grey of her mother's gaze that spoke of false assumptions but before she even moved Jackie added, "Oh, and take Pete's credit card. It's on the counter."

Now she was confused."What for?"

"You're going shopping with him. 'Cause I'm not washing his clothes every night only so that he can wear a fresh pair of jeans in the morning."

The very instant Jackie shot a poignant look at the blank space behind her daughter, Rose was sure to practically feel how the Doctor's face fell. Already he puffed out his chest, about to contradict vehemently when his new hostess bet him to it.

"If he's going to stay he's got to have his own clothes. Pete's won't do 'im no good and I'm not sharing mine either." Her obvious attempt at a little humour belied how Jackie really didn't mean the Time Lord harm.
Some things just had to be done, and as a mother of now two kids – and no one tell her that a twenty three years old young woman couldn't still mean work and trouble – she had learned that it was better if you saw to them sooner rather than later. Besides, it was true, too, that she had no intentions of extending the list of her daily chores more than was necessary.

"Better you just get through with it," she finished, speaking just a bit louder so that it was clear she was addressing the Doctor, too. Then, she extended her left arm, wrapped it about her daughter's shoulders in a quick hug and with a peck to her cheek said, "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

With that she pulled away and headed over to Tony's room only to reappear with Mr. Tedopoulos a moment later. While, rather perplexed, Rose still hadn't moved Jackie checked her wristwatch for the time and mumbling something about having to hurry she sped past her child – waving her goodbye and exclaiming "Tra!" as she descended the stairs that lead to the ground floor.

But a heartbeat later, she was gone. It was almost too surreal to even think about.

Pete was at work, her mum away with Tony and Rose was to take a Time Lord shopping. Did she not feel him stare at her back in absolute horror, she might have laughed but as it was she just turned to peek over her shoulder and indeed, there he stood – looking properly repulsed. Still, whichever way she looked at it her mother was right. He needed things to wear.

This was going to be a long day.


Mr Tedopoulos is taken from the lovely novel "Winner Takes All" (written by Jacqueline Rayner). No copyright infringement is intended.