The Doctor was doing his utmost to act normally, but just keeping himself mentally present was proving to be a remarkably difficult task. Shock still hummed all through him, kept dragging him back down into his own thoughts. Rose, time traveling? Try as he might, the Doctor just couldn't wrap his mind around it at all. It had the potential to change everything, and he was desperate for more information. How was she doing it? Why?And what, yes, what, could it possibly mean?
His duplicate held at least some of the answers. The Doctor was certain he'd been about to offer them up, like precious, shimmering jewels, but then they had been cruelly interrupted by Jackie Tyler's lunch schedule and oh, he wasn't sure if he'd ever experienced anything quite so frustrating.
It was only when his left eyelid began to twitch that the Doctor realized he'd been absently staring at nothing again. Blinking, he twisted his mouth into what he suspected was a poor semblance of a smile and told himself to pay attention to what Rose was saying. This was ridiculous. He needed to get his act together or she was going to say he was being weird, and it wouldn't be much of a leap for her intuitive mind to tie his weirdness to the conversation she'd just caught him and the Other having. That would be bad.
Rose finished relating her afternoon plans and the Doctor felt her dark eyes bore into him. She bit her lip speculatively, and he was certain he looked not only weird but also guilty.
The three of them stood together in a small circle in the middle of the lab. Rose leaned over to the Doctor and patted his arm, then gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry," she told him, and he was quietly grateful to see she was actually misreading him for once in her life. "Once Mum understands why you're here, I think she'll be happy. She might even kiss you."
Her mouth curled up teasingly and the Doctor made a face, happy that his feelings about this prospect needn't be fabricated or hidden.
"But..." Rose added, in an aside to her husband, "you might want to watch out. Well, you and me both, though I'm sure she'll mostly blame you, like always."
"Me?" he said, mouth agape. "What did I do?"
"Regal Theatre," she said simply. "Got in the papers."
Groaning, he covered his face with a hand. "Great. Fantastic. Just what I need today. Of course that's what your mother would be most upset about, some silly incident in the papers, whereas he can go and put entire universes at risk and that's just fine, thanks."
He paused, eyes going to contemplate the Doctor. "Although, technically," he said, with a tilt of his head, "whatever happened last night is your fault. We'd have never been at that theatre if you hadn't gone and breached the void. You practically forced our hand."
"Oi, you aren't gonna blame everything on me-"
"Boys!" Rose cut in. "Calm down, it's just my mum, not a Dalek."
Pinstripes caught the Doctor's eye over the top of Rose's head and silently mouthed "Rather have the Dalek." Nodding, the Doctor was about to grin when he saw a frowning Rose watching him, having caught this exchange. He pressed his lips together.
"Anyway," said Rose, turning back to her Doctor, "Dad's here, and I need you to go and fill him in on what's been happening. I want him on our side, since he can settle Mum down better than anyone."
Her husband shifted indecisively on the balls of his feet. "Me? Can't you tell him? We're kind of in the middle of something-"
"Yeah, noticed that. It didn't look like a very nice something," she told him. "But really, I..." Rose wrinkled her nose sheepishly. "I haven't had a chance to say hello to the TARDIS yet." She glanced toward the time-ship, still parked against the back wall. "And I'm afraid that if I don't do it now, well, I might miss my chance."
Guilt swept over the Doctor. "Rose," he said, and waited until her gaze flicked his way. "I won't leave without telling you goodbye this time. I promise."
She studied him for a moment. "Yeah, alright. But I still wanna see her now."
"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you too, Rose. Why don't you go ahead? I'll be along shortly."
This was good; all he needed was a few minutes alone with the Other and then he would know everything. But Rose wasn't going, she just stood there and looked up at her husband, all big soft doe eyes with eyebrows raised hopefully. "So you'll talk to Dad? Right now?"
The Doctor began to wring his hands. He had never been able to resist that look. His counterpart was surely going to give in. But he couldn't just leave; they needed to finish their conversation. Rose had been time-traveling. And he, the Doctor, singular owner of a time-machine, was supposedly her designated driver. He cuffed his boot against the heel of the Other's dirty white plimsoll to tell him how he felt, and when this was ignored, barely kept from clutching at the man's sleeve.
"Alright," said the human Doctor, exhaling, and the Doctor's nails bit into his fists. "You win. See you at lunch."
Rose smiled her gratitude, and as the one with the answers swanned off the Doctor gritted his teeth and turned away, trying to calm himself with a long breath through his nose. He stared at the lab's one small window. It was set high in the wall since this level of the building was partially below ground, and although the Doctor couldn't actually see out, the sun shone in bright and hot. It would be high in the sky by now, the day half over, and wonky time or no, the Doctor could still feel the clock ticking. His ship was already strong enough for travel. Strong enough to pass through the Void for the last time.
Perhaps even strong enough to... make a few other stops first?
"Doctor?"
He jerked his head around to find Rose was looking at him expectantly.
Rose. Only Rose.
Well. Perhaps his counterpart's departure did have its bright side.
"Looks like it's just the two of us now, Rose Tyler," said the Doctor, offering her his arm and trying not to think about how long it had been since he'd last been able to say that. "Your tour awaits."
With a small airy laugh, Rose placed her hand in the crook of his arm and he sported her across the room, right up to the doorstep of the big blue box. There he opened the door, gesturing for her to proceed inside first. As he trailed in behind her, he waited for her reaction with baited breath.
Pausing just steps inside, not unlike the first time she crossed the threshold of his marvelous ship, Rose gasped, hand flying to her mouth. Her golden head slowly turned this way and that, chin tilting up and then down, as she took in the curves and glass of the new (and improved, he thought) interior. In profile the Doctor could see her surprise becoming a smile, and her eyes shone.
Hair flying, she twirled back quickly to face him. "Oh, she's changed!"
The lights flickered a welcome and Rose spun again, skipped up the steps and went over to the console to run her hand along its rounded edge. "Yes, love, you are beautiful. But you were beautiful before, you know. Oh, how I've missed you!"
She paid the Doctor no attention at all as she flitted around, enthralled with inspecting every redesign and addition. He stood at the foot of the stairs, quietly noticing how blonde hair and impossibly wide smiles weren't at all out of place in the brand-new surroundings, but instead were exactly what had been missing; like a beautiful portrait hung on an empty wall. He couldn't resist the temptation to imagine that this situation was permanent, that she was here to stay. That they were ready to be off, about to embark on a new adventure.
Together.
Or perhaps... some sort of farewell tour?
"You think I've been bringing her?" His question was still ticking away, loud and important and incredibly distracting, in the back of the Doctor's mind. And it was here, alone with Rose in the console room of his TARDIS, that the possibilities hit him in such a powerful rush that he staggered forward a bit, and was glad she hadn't seen him clutch the railing with both hands in order to maintain his balance.
He suppressed a growl and gripped the railing tighter to keep from marching off after his other self and shaking the explanations out of him. No doubt there was a misunderstanding somewhere. This was no good. He didn't want to hope, not now when he was just beginning to resign himself to the inevitable end. He'd come, he would save, and then he would leave.
Alone.
His ears rang with remembered words. "If you leave me alone here again I'll die!" Rose's tearful declaration was his dream's painful climax, spoken to her husband only once- but the Doctor had heard it again and again, like some sort of unwilling eavesdropper. It was what the TARDIS had chosen to show him, in order to motivate his return.
And for the first time, he found himself wondering why.
Why had he been shown a very personal conversation? Why not the attack itself? Yes, the dream had done its job; it was easy to see that something had gone wrong in their lives. Yet he'd been given no details. He had simply assumed that if there was a problem, the TARDIS must want him to fix it. It was what he did. Help.
Assumed. Assumed he was sent here to help. To save the Other's life.
What if he had gotten it wrong? What if he hadn't been brought here to save his double's life?
Could he possibly, possibly be here to keep his double's promise?
The Doctor slumped down onto the first step and screwed his eyes shut. He knew he was way over thinking this. Here he was again, jumping to wild conclusions without any real evidence to back them up.
At the sound of soft laughter he looked up to find Rose, who had evidently finished exploring the console room, was now engaged in a close range study of him from her chosen perch three steps directly above.
"Some tour guide you are," she grinned, showing a hint of pink tongue. "Going off on a trip without me. Care to share with the rest of the class?"
He grinned back, carefully tucking away his wild musings so she wouldn't suspect. "Um. How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough to count the grey hairs in your crown," she said seriously, leaning in for a closer look. "You've seven."
The Doctor clapped a hand to the top of his head and glared up at her, indignant. "I don't, Rose Tyler!" He glared harder when she burst out laughing. She had to be having him on!
"Lord," she wheezed, wiping her eyes. "You're even more vain than my Doctor!"
Now he tacked on a scowl, partly from her accusation and partly because of how she'd used the word 'my' to distinguish between him and the Other. "Time Lords don't get grey hairs. Not unless it's on purpose!"
"Or if they're part human," she added carelessly, offering her hand to him with fingers outstretched in invitation. "C'mon, then, you very not-grey guide. I want the grand tour. Gimme my money's worth."
He couldn't resist that.
The "grand tour" ended up including nothing more than the kitchen, but only because it couldn't be topped. Rose squealed, a sound of pure, unadulterated delight, the instant they entered. "It's Ralph's Cafe!" she exclaimed, beaming at the Doctor before climbing onto one of the shiny red barstools like an excited little girl.
He watched her, totally confused, and then felt like slapping himself across the forehead. Bugger it all- Ralph's Cafe. How could he not have noticed? The kitchen had looked like this for weeks, not that he'd spent much time at all in here recently, but still. The TARDIS-created motif was an exact replica of the little hole-in-the-wall near Powell Estates that they'd fled to more times than he could remember, often in an effort to escape Jackie's cooking. They'd sit there for hours, indulging in greasy fried food and laughing themselves silly.
"'S too bad Ralph's not here," Rose continued, her voice full of yearning. "I'd give anything for some of his chips right now. Haven't had any for years that even come close."
"They don't have good chips here?" the Doctor asked, still looking around as he carefully perched on the stool beside her. Ralph's Cafe. He couldn't decide whether to kiss the stupid wall or yell at his manipulative, interfering ship and demand to know just what she thought she was playing at.
"Well, they're okay, but no matter where I've gotten them there's always been something, I dunno, just sort of wrong." She faced him, propped an elbow on the bar and slanted a cheek against her hand. "That's partly why Mum's so keen on us not missing lunch with her today. She's getting it catered from this new place in town that she discovered a couple weeks ago, since then she's all 'oh, sweetheart, these are the chips you've been looking for'," Rose mimed in an uncanny imitation of Jackie Tyler. "'S been kind of her mission lately. I wish she'd stop, but I think she's got it in her head that if she finds me good chips then she'll have a way to fatten me up a bit. She's always on about how thin I am."
The Doctor gave Rose a careful look over. She looked fine to him. Healthy. But then again, the notions Jackie Tyler got in her head at times had never had much to do with reality or common sense.
They spent awhile just sitting there, chatting as easily as they always had, and the Doctor soaked up every second without needing to pretend it was anything but what it was. Rose had wanted to know about Mickey right off, and the Doctor was glad to have news to report, enjoying how her eyes lit up with surprise and happiness as he told of her childhood friend's marriage to Martha and how the two worked together as freelance agents. He carefully glided over the fact that this news wasn't exactly new, and that he had no idea where the two were these days. Next it was Sarah Jane, then Jack. He had Sarah Jane's wedding to relate but nothing, save an apologetic look, for when she asked about Jack, thinking of a certain time-traveling archaeologist and the dubious origin of her vortex manipulator. Rose, kind and understanding as always, didn't push him on it, nor did she bring up the subject of Donna.
All in all, he felt content and happy, more so than he had in a long time. This was just so them, so right, her fitting smoothly back into his life as if she had never left. But the time allotted for their visit was swiftly drawing to an end, though even if they didn't have to head out, Amy'd surely interrupt them before too long. The Doctor stretched and reluctantly looked at his watch. "You want the rest of that tour? We have, oh, maybe twenty minutes."
Rose hesitated, staring down at the bar, then up at him through her lashes. "Um, would you mind if I went off for a bit by myself? I have a little something that I'd like to do."
The Doctor read her easily. She wanted to see her old room. "Of course. You'll find the door where it's always been. I haven't moved anything."
She smiled at this and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and then she slid off the stool and was gone. Only a faint trace of her scent and the softly swinging door proved she'd ever been there at all.
That, and his skin still tingled where her lips had brushed it. The Doctor touched his fingertips to the spot and sighed. Without Rose and her joyous sparkle the kitchen now felt depressingly empty. Well, not the kitchen. Ralph's Cafe. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that, nor did he feel up to pondering his ship's possible motivations as he got up, intent on heading back to the console room. Not that that sounded very appealing either. He was pushing the bar on the glass door when suddenly, a brilliant idea rushed into his mind.
"Oh, Rose Tyler," he said, as he returned to the other end of the kitchen and rummaged through the tall pantry next to the refrigerator. "Maybe there's still one thing I can give you that he can't."
It was a stretch, but on the third try Rose successfully yanked the zip the rest of the way, closing it over the items she'd packed tight in the pink nylon knapsack. It was a worn, beaten old thing, crossed with smudges and stains and more than a few little rips- the souvenirs of countless adventures. She lay back on the equally pink comforter of her old bed and tossed the bag on the floor, grinning as she recalled the Doctor's very vocal, yet unwarranted, hatred of it. "It's bloody impractical, Rose! It will just slow us down!" He was wrong on both counts, of course, since the bag wasn't that big. And it had come in very handy on more than one occasion, especially when she knew they'd be spending at least one night away from the TARDIS.
But it was on his favorite argument that she'd finally managed to shut him up on the subject forever. "What could you possibly need that I don't already have in my very superior dimensionally transcendental pockets, Rose?"
Despite having come up with no less than a dozen mental responses to that question, Rose had long been happy to ignore his moaning. After all, he was only a man and an alien one at that, so what did he know? Until, unfortunately, he tried it on one of the days when Rose wasn't quite the patient and tolerant Rose that he was used to. He'd been trying to coax her off the sofa for a good thirty minutes, being a massive pest about a vague and very doubtful 'something' (which he'd both refused to describe and was entirely too enthusiastic about) that she just had to see. At last Rose sighed and gave in, rolling off the sofa regretfully, but not before reaching off to the side for her trusty pink pack.
At the sight of it, the Doctor's sigh was deep and pathetic, almost as if he were suffering, so when he opened his mouth and asked her that question for the gazillionth time Rose decided it was high time to put him out of his misery.
Slumping back on the couch, she'd glared at him balefully, like a cat, through slitted eyelids. "Tampons."
These days, he carried them around for her in his (still dimensionally-transcendental) pockets without batting so much as an eyelash.
Well, one of him did, anyway. The other one, the one who would likely still gape like a landed fish over the very idea, was waiting for her in the TARDIS kitchen. Rose crawled off the bed and slung the knapsack over her shoulder, looking around one last time and vaguely feeling like someone had died. Her old self. The life she'd once dreamed of.
"Way to be melodramatic, Tyler," she said aloud. What did she have to be sad about? She certainly hadn't expected to end up in her old room on the TARDIS this weekend, but that was in no way a bad thing. She'd finally gotten her chance to say a proper goodbye, to retrieve a few wanted things from her life here, and spend some time with her old Doctor. And now? Well, now she could finally stop worrying, after all this time. Couldn't she? He was fine. Granted, he was still in love with her, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, but he'd be okay. Probably. He had great companions to look out for him.
But as Rose wound her way back to the kitchen she realized she'd never stop worrying. How could she? She loved him too. But tough as it was, she had to let him go. He was a centuries-old Time Lord, not some little lost puppy who needed a home.
Even if he did look like one sometimes.
The eager, excited way he bounded up to her when she pushed the glass door open did nothing to dispel that image. He wore a pleased, sloppy half grin, like he'd just discovered a brand-new planet, and the air, Rose suddenly realized, was thick and fragrant with a very familiar scent. Her gaze shot past him to a red plastic basket, sitting on the closest table, and heaped over with-
"Chips?" she squealed, delighted. "You made me chips?" She skipped over and snatched up the biggest one she could see, golden and crispy, off of the steaming pile, and bit it in half. Oh, heavenly. Rose moaned with pleasure at the taste. "It's gorgeous!"
His new green eyes watched her, looking thrilled with her response. "Of course, Rose Tyler, they're made with only the best, Prime Universe ingredients. No matter what your mother says, I think these are the chips you've been searching for."
She laughed and went to him, impulsively throwing her arms around his neck. He stiffened, inhaling sharply, and Rose saw her mistake. She tried to pull back, but was prevented by his arms flying up to lock tight around her waist.
He turned his face to her hair, breathing her in. "Doctor," she said quietly, but he held fast.
"Stay," he whispered, like he couldn't hold it in, and she knew he meant it as much, much more than a plea for a longer embrace.
She shook her head. "Oh, Doctor. You... you don't need me. Not really. But he does. Said it yourself, the last time I saw you. Remember?"
His chest shook, vibrating against hers in a mirthless chuckle. "Yes. I said he needed you. But I never said that I didn't." As her breath caught at his words, the snare of his arms loosened, releasing her. He stepped back and she tried to catch his eyes, but he had already focused on the knapsack slung over her shoulder. "All packed up, I see."
He tried to smile, but it was a tight, painful attempt that didn't reach his eyes. Again, Rose cursed herself and her impulsive, thoughtless actions. She should've dropped the stupid thing off in the Doctor's lab. Of course it would hurt him.
Rose took hold of the rough sleeve of his jacket, searching for the right thing to say, but then the door swung open and Amy came barging in with Rory on her heels. "See?" said the ginge, turning to her husband. "Told you I smelled chips." She went over and grabbed one, stuffing it in her mouth.
The Doctor sucked in a breath and moved away from Rose. "Oi," he told his companion. "I didn't make those for you."
"'S alright, Doctor," Rose said hurriedly, and she took another, hoping to make him happy. "Can't eat all these myself. Or are you wanting to fatten me up too, like Mum?"
He scrunched up his face at being compared to her mother. Rose's mobile phone rang and she pushed the button and held it to her ear.
"Jackie Tyler's in the building," came a dramatic whisper. "She snarled at me, Rose, snarled, just like a ravenous wolf." Rose smiled; she could hear her dad chuckling in the background. "Pete told her that she had to give us a chance to explain about yesterday but you need to get up here now. He and I can't be expected to fend her off on our own forever."
Rose giggled. "Poor baby. We're coming."
She rang off and shoved the phone back in her jacket pocket. "You hungry?" she asked Amy and Rory. "My Mum's here. With food, though if you knew her that part'd go without saying."
The two looked at each other, nodding. "We're in," said Amy, stuffing a couple more chips into her mouth. "I'm starving."
"Great." Rose took up the basket and, after covering it with a couple of napkins from the metal dispenser on the table, carried it in one arm. "Let's go."
Rory held the door open for them all but the Doctor had returned to the other side of the kitchen, and was running water into the sink. Rose frowned. "Aren't you coming?"
He dropped a knife into the suds and glanced over at her. "I should clean up, and then, well... your husband and I were making a bit of progress before you came down. Thought I'd best keep at it. You go ahead."
"Can't it wait an hour? Mum will be hurt if you don't say hello, at least," Rose implored him. She was worried about that, but really, she just wanted him there. Not that she dared tell him that. It was just... he would be leaving again, so soon.
Rose knew she'd won when his shoulders sagged a bit, just like her Doctor's did when he was about to give in. "Well, then. It will never do to upset Jackie." He shut the tap off and wiped his hands on a towel.
"Allons-y?" she asked with a hopeful grin, biting her bottom lip.
His slow, answering smile was so handsome, so him, that it made her heart skip, just a beat or two.
"Allons-y," he agreed.
Heading a company like Torchwood was a demanding job with demanding hours, although since his second marriage Pete Tyler had done better with balancing work and family. He was lucky, since if he couldn't make it home, his new wife didn't mind that this meant that she and their son often ended up in the small suite of rooms that made up his office on the highest floor of the shining Canary Wharf tower. It was a comfortable, homey space, often littered with toys belonging to six-year-old Tony.
It was a very familiar sight that greeted Rose as she crossed her step-father's office to peer into the attached conference room that had doubled as dining area for her family so many times. Her mother, dressed in classy black trousers and sleeveless blouse, was bustling about, setting the table with dishes from the area's small kitchenette, while simultaneously shrilling at Pete, who had made the mistake of trying to make himself useful.
"No, love, don't open up those containers until we've all sat down, it'll go cold," she told him as she snagged a handful of silverware from an open drawer, then shut it with her hip. "But you can fetch that big bowl of cut fruit from the refrigerator and set it out." She pulled open another drawer and rifled through it. "Now where did I put that nice serving spoon?"
Jackie continued to rummage, her back to the door as Rose entered the room, followed by Amy, Rory, and the wary-faced Doctor. Pete turned away from the small fridge, a plastic-wrap covered glass bowl in his arms, and smiled when he saw them standing there. Rose smiled back, set the basket of chips on the shelf of a bookcase just inside the doorway, and walked in, looking for her own Doctor. She found him halfway across the room, seated in a dining chair he'd pulled a ways back from the large rectangular table, and he and the small blonde-haired boy on his knee were prodding solemnly at a mess of brightly colored wiring in the open back of a small red toy robot.
"His eyes won't light up," he explained, grinning, as soon as he noticed her watching him. "And that just won't do, will it, Tony?"
Tony turned his head to see whom the Doctor had spoken to and his round brown eyes lit up at the sight of his big sister.
"Rose!" he called, sliding off the Doctor's lap and running to her. He threw his arms around her legs.
"Hiya, buddy," she said, picking him up to hug him properly. He tolerated this only briefly before pushing away. Rose sadly set him down. Tony had recently decided that he was now too big to be held.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're just in time," said Jackie, turning away from the kitchenette with the desired serving spoon now in hand. She blinked in surprise when she saw that her daughter wasn't alone. "You've brought friends," she added, recovering admirably and offering the visitors a wide smile. "How lovely. I'm always telling Rose and the Doctor they need to make new friends."
"Mum," said Rose. "Please."
Jackie squinted thoughtfully as she swiftly obtained and added three more plates to the table settings. She beckoned Rose closer. "Do you think it was the best idea, bringing them here?" she asked, into her daughter's ear. "Torchwood? Aren't there rules against it? If they see something alien it might scare them off before they really get to know you. Not that himself over there isn't just as likely to do it with his own weirdness."
Rose sighed. "You'll understand in a minute, Mum. Let me introduce you. This is Rory and Amy Pond- sorry, Williams," she corrected, with an embarrassed laugh as the couple stepped up next to her, lifting their hands in greeting.
"Lovely to meet you. And who's this, then?" asked Jackie, and Rose could practically read her mind as she surveyed the third stranger with interest. Joyous wife and mother Jacqueline Tyler may be, but that fact had in no way dampened her appreciation for a handsome young face.
"Um, well Mum, you see..."
As Rose struggled for words she was surprised to find that the new Doctor had come up next to her. He faced her mother, round-shouldered and smiling, his eyes gone soft. "Hello, Jackie. You're looking well. It's been a long time. Although lots longer for me, I think."
Jackie's smile fell, her gaze turned suspicious. She gave him a slow, thorough look over, narrowing in on his decidedly odd attire. Recognition flared in her eyes and the Doctor flinched and sidled back a step or two. Probably expecting a slap, Rose thought. A slap and a lecture. How dare you abandon my daughter with nary a goodbye...
"Well, well. I always knew you'd be back."
Rose blinked. No anger colored her mother's tone, just matter-of-fact acceptance with maybe a hint of pity. Apparently Jackie Tyler had expected what everyone else, including the full Time Lord himself, had assumed to be impossible. Rose wasn't sure if she should feel impressed by this or highly annoyed.
The Doctor was just plain baffled. "Really?"
"Yes," she said, and the pity in her voice went up a notch. "I watched you walk away on that beach. T'was killing you." Before he could formulate some sort of response she turned an accusatory glare on her son-in-law, who was still sitting with Tony. "I thought you said you couldn't change your face anymore."
It spoke volumes as to how far he'd come when Rose's Doctor allowed himself only the smallest sigh before answering. "I can't, Jackie. He can. He's still a full Time Lord."
Jackie raised one eyebrow to show him she was unconvinced and gave her full attention back to the Doctor in tweed. "She's already said no, hasn't she?" Her tone had reverted to soft and compassionate, and she laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sure you tried to tempt her with that big box of yours, all those stars, but it was only ever you she wanted. And she's already got you, plus her family, right here. I'm sorry Doctor, but Rose is happy."
Though looking extremely uncomfortable, the Doctor managed a smile. "I could never be sorry about that, Jackie. But I'm not... asking Rose to come back." His gaze flicked to her momentarily before returning to the older woman. "I heard about the trouble here, the threats on the other Doctor's life. I'm only here to help."
Rose's mother beamed and threw her arms around him in an all-encompassing hug. The Doctor stood frozen in her embrace, and then his hands went up to awkwardly pat her on the back.
"That's lovely, sweetheart, this other you has been driving everyone bonkers," she declared, pulling back to frame his face with her hands, kissing him soundly before heading over to the sink. Amy and Rory, who'd watched this entire exchange from their places at the table, found this hilarious, and were openly snickering their appreciation. Disgust rapidly shifting to irritation, the Doctor glared at them, and Amy gave him two thumbs up. He huffed and told her to shut up, then sat down on the other side of Rory.
Rose's Doctor, who was immune to being told off about his behavior and therefore entirely unbothered by Jackie's comment, lifted Tony from his lap and ushered him forward to join the others, then dragged his own chair over. He sat down and leaned over the table, then began flipping open the styrofoam containers of food, revealing one to be full of hot battered fish, another of chips, and a long rectangular box of sandwiches on thick bread.
"Oi," said Jackie, her sharp eyes catching him snag a handful of chips while she set a pitcher of water down on the table. "Rude. Tongs are right there. And guests go first, remember?"
She returned to the kitchenette and Rose's Doctor eyed the utensil doubtfully, as if wondering why he would be expected to use a thing that could produce nowhere near the chip-yield as his own long, nimble fingers. Predictably disregarding the admonition, his hand nipped back out to acquire more of the crispy potatoes, and he got a smack on the back of the head for his trouble.
"Ow," he complained, glowering at Jackie. "What'd you do that for?" He reached back and used his fingers to rub at the sore spot, then frowned when he realized they were the greasy, salty, chip-stealing ones. Brows drawing together, he hastily removed the dirty hand from his hair, and then stared at it, eyes stormy. One punishment over something as pointless as manners was bad enough, but two was just not to be borne.
A distraction was in order so Rose rapidly snatched the other basket of chips off the bookcase shelf and plonked them down on the table in front of him. "Look at what the Doctor made for us!" she announced, emphasizing the word 'us' to avoid adding jealousy to his less-than-sunshiny mood. "Chips from back home!"
He wasn't about to be fooled so easily. Rose's Doctor turned a suspicious look onto his other self. "What'd you go and do all this for? Did you think Jackie'd be cooking?"
The triumph of having pulled off a sly double insult might've pulled him out of his funk, but sadly, his timing was off, and the negative reference to his mother-in-law's culinary skills occurred in both her hearing and reach.
"Ow!"
With quick reflexes, Rose prevented his still-greasy hand from diving into his hair a second time, ran her own soothing fingers over the spot, then kissed it before sitting beside him. "Be nice, Mum. He's had a stressful couple of days, yeah?" She settled a hand on his knee and felt him relax as she stroked her thumb back and forth.
From across the table, Jackie's gaze traveled between her daughter's husband and his no-longer-identical counterpart. "I suppose it has been," she conceded, and held out a paper-wrapped sandwich to him as peace offering. He eyed it for a second before accepting it with a sigh.
Lips curving into a satisfied smile, Jackie now angled herself slightly toward Amy, who was next to her. "So you and your husband are traveling with this other one, are you? I'm glad to see that it's not just young, single women anymore."
Amy grinned. "Oh, I was single when he met me. And quite young. Very. And he stole me away to go traveling with him the night before Rory and I were to be married."
"Oi- that wasn't on purpose!" the bow-tied Doctor sputtered.
Jackie leaned closer to Amy, her eyes alight with interest. "Really? Were you as young as my Rose, then? She was only nineteen, barely out of school, when that alien came along, all big ears and leather and looking to be well over forty. He blew up her job and then stole her away for an entire year. Neither one of them ever called me, not one single time. I thought she was dead."
Rose and both Doctors groaned. "Mum, are you ever gonna let that go? It was an accident."
"I thought it twelve hours," defended the new Doctor.
"No more with the 'leather and big ears'," muttered the one in pinstripes, crossing his arms sulkily.
Amy's smile widened. "I was much, much younger than nineteen," she happily informed her new friend. "Now tell me more about the leather."
