Things go pear-shaped when the Doctor responds rashly to seeing Rose flirting and dancing with a "pretty-boy Prince."
Written for a prompt from Timepetalsprompts, over on Tumblr: game.
This "drabble" quickly turned into something enormous: an octo-drabble. I could just have written it as a ficlet, I suppose… but I rather enjoyed the challenge of being restricted to 100 word chapters.
Warning!Super-sappy ending! Proceed with caution!
Untitled (27)
Rose frowned over her shoulder at the Doctor, then offered the Prince her tongue-touched grin and, taking his hand, allowed him to sweep her onto the dance floor.
The Doctor glowered, tossing back the remains of his drink, thumping the glass down when Rose whispered in the pretty-boy's ear, and he, in turn, brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek.
He stuffed his fists deep in his pinstriped pockets when royal hands began to roam over Rose's body, and she willingly stepped closer so their hips pressed together, swaying with the music.
Enough was enough! This wasn't a game!
-oOo-
Enraged, he blustered through the sea of dancers. "Excuse me." He shoved Prince Pretty-boy out of the way. "I'm cutting in." Seizing Rose's hand, he dragged her from the dance floor, ignoring her vehement squeaks of protest.
"What the fuck, Doctor? I'm not allowed to dance?"
"That wasn't dancing. That was… Dancing."
"Yeah, maybe it was! What's it to you? Didn't exactly hear you invitin' me to dance. What d'ya bring me here for, anyway?"
"Weeell…" He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I have needs, Doctor! And Prince Orren was bein' so–"
"Guards! Seize him!" the Prince shouted.
-oOo-
The Doctor sulked. 54 hours, 3 minutes, 47 seconds, stuck in the Royal Dungeons, alone, left to rot. How was he to have known it was a criminal offence to "cut in" on Royalty? Weeell, maybe he did remember something…
But the point was… that wanker, Prince "Pretty-boy" Orren, had been putting his bloody, royal hands all over Rose! His Rose! And, to add insult to injury, his last sight of Rose had involved her leaning against the Prince's shoulder, accepting his comfort.
The clumsy thumps of the guards outside the cell roused him from his brooding. "Time to go."
-oOo-
"Rose!" He rushed to greet her, arms unfurled for a reunion hug. She met him with a furrowed brow and crossed arms.
Oh…
And she had changed from her gown into the flowing pantsuit favoured by the females on this planet. Seemed she had been fitting right in during his incarceration.
Oh…
"Here." She thrust his sonic and his psychic paper at him. "They said you could have these back, and that you're free to go."
He forced a broad grin. "Brilliant!" Grabbing Rose's hand, he nodded to the guards. "Gentlemen, it's been… delightful! Rose, allons-y!"
She didn't move.
Oh…
-oOo-
"Rose?" His hearts clenched, his respiratory bypass kicked in, but he feigned nonchalance, and jogged farcically on the spot, tugging at her hand. "C'mon, Rose Tyler! Allons-y! Back to the TARDIS. All of space and time. Remember? Couldn't have forgotten all of that in just a few days?"
"Is this just some game to you, Doctor?"
He opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come.
"Do you have any idea what I went through to get you out of there?"
"Erm…"
"Doesn't matter." She rolled her eyes. "Let's jus' go." She strode off ahead of him, back to the TARDIS.
-oOo-
After two days of cold shoulders and even colder glares, the Doctor couldn't take it anymore. He knocked on her bedroom door. "Rose, I think we need to talk…"
"Ya think?" Her sarcasm stung. She opened the door then returned to her bed. "Took ya long enough."
"Was waiting for you to say something…"
She raised her eyebrows, lip curled.
That had been the wrong thing to say. He tried again: "Rose, I'm sorry…"
"That's a start," she mused. "What for?"
"What d'you mean?"
"That's what I thought... Take me home, Doctor. Come get me when you've worked it out."
-oOo-
"'Bout bloody time ya showed up, ya great pillock!" Jackie berated him. "Blimey! Look at the state of ya! And 'ere I thought this one was bad, drivin' me barmy with 'er whingin' and mopin' around in bed all day!"
"'Lo, Jackie." He scrubbed self-consciously at his week's growth of facial hair. "Not gonna hit me?"
"Don't think it didn't cross my mind," she smirked. "Well sit down, then. I'll get herself outta bed. Then I'll make you a cuppa and clear out so you two can chat."
"Sure you're not gonna slap me?"
"Nah, ya plum. But she might…"
-oOo-
Rose's lips were pressed together, forcing back tears, and his heart broke for her.
"Didn't think I'd ever see ya again."
"Oh, Rose." He rushed to her, enfolding her in his arms. "I'm here now. I'm so sorry. I keep pushing you away… then when you flirt… weeell, I get…"
"Jealous git!" Rose hummed, stroking his stubble.
"I'm afraid…"
"Yeah?" she prompted.
"…of losing you. I thought… perhaps… it would hurt less, in the end, if…
"Dance with me, Rose?"
"Forever," she murmured, tears spilling over her cheeks. They began to sway together, dancing to the music in their hearts.
