This adventure takes place during an undecided point in the Ninth Doctor's run.
The characters and the term 'TARDIS' are owned by the BBC, though I suspect that goes unsaid.
Be a responsible reader; I earnestly urge you to review to repay my toils.
"It's only a leaky valve- it's nothing to fret over!" The Doctor was bellowing over the mechanical hissing and grinding that steadily persisted. The TARDIS console groaned, a dull shudder barely discernible over the noise of escaping stream and vapour, and jolted underneath Rose Tyler's feet. She attempted to steady herself in vain, one hand firmly clasped over her mouth and the other grasping the rail in front of her. Her swift reflexes delivered her from an unpleasant journey towards the wavering floor beneath her feet, which was now canting back and forth along with the entire console room. However, the victory was fleeting; her sweat-soaked palms had loosened her grip on the rail, and she stumbled backwards wildly with a cry. The Doctor was there to break her fall, much to his chagrin, and they lay on the ground in a crumpled heap as the room continued to totter, stagger, and Rose swore that it was now spinning in a display of erratic temperament.
"I told you to stop fretting, it's all under control!" The Doctor slowly rose to a defiant stance, his hands hovering towards the console. Like a child backing away from a ferocious dog, but in reverse, The Doctor first stepped precariously towards the controls. He held his arms in front of him, and his strides were reliant on the intensity of the jolts that shot through the floor and keept Rose pressed against a wall. Her hair fell straight, sagging at her shoulders, drenched with perspiration. The Doctor had stopped midway, his arms slowly recoiled, and another tremour, this one sending Rose to her knees, propelled him towards the console. He was on it before her gaze snapped upwards, his hands tearing fiercely at the wires inside until the tremendous hissing waned into a faint spit, and eventually dissipated into silence. Rose stood hesitantly, her clothes sopping, staring at The Doctor with as much bemusement as she could possibly muster.
"That was a bit rough," he chirped, his gaze fixated on the handful of wires that dangled from his clenched fist. He simply opened his hand, letting them fall to the TARDIS floor in a stunning display of gravity.
"A bit…Rough…You say?" Rose stared at him in utter disbelief, her expression plagued with a mixture of anger and bewilderment. She pulled the sodden hair from her face to ensure the expression was completely exposed. The Doctor simply grinned toothily.
"I've had better, what about you?"
Not even a long shower soothed the purple and yellow splotched rings around her kneecaps and elbows, and she was sure that every joint in her body was systematically throbbing in some strange orchestrated display of pain. On top of the bruises and pulsing, she had bit down on her lip when hitting the floor, splitting it open and immediately granting it an excuse to swell up conspicuously. Wear and tear, she thought. No broken bones, after all.
When she reentered the console room, The Doctor's feet were sticking out from under the inflicted area of the control panel. She tucked her hair behind her ear and reluctantly knelt down beside his exposed legs, peering under until she could make out silhouetted features under the pale blue glow of a Sonic Screwdriver. She caught his eye, but he continued to occupy himself for a long moment before his voice came from the darkness.
"You look like hell, Rose Tyler. What would your mother say if she saw you in this state?"
Rose didn't need to see his cheekily smirk. She sank to her elbows now, on level with the floor, following the blue beacon with her gaze, "She'd say I deserved it for going off with a bloke like you. You know, the sort of bloke who travels through both time and space in a machine that he has as much control over as a goldfish does over the moon cycle. I reckon she'd say something to that effect."
No response at first, simply a flat, "I take offense, Rose Tyler." The light flickered, and she could no longer tell his countenance from the shade.
"This wasn't her fault."
"Whose fault?" Rose squirmed closer to the opening of the panel that The Doctor had wedged himself through, save for the two ever-present shins and feet that now rested at the side of her hip. Rose pulled at one of his feet urgently, repeating her question.
"Whose fault?"
"This was external. Something strong enough to affect us here, inside the TARDIS. I promised you a hearty adventure, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait another time. We'll have another go, once she cools down. But for now, you may as well push off."
Rose sat up, her look of disappointment hidden from The Doctor, "I can help. Listen, there's enough room for both of us under there, and I'm good with mechanics. I'm brilliant with potatoes and lightbulbs," She quickly added, "Have you seen those? A kitsch experiment…Are you any interested in this, Doctor?" She peered, her waxing smile veiled from behind the darkness.
"It would help if you fetched my toolbox, Rose. Seventeen floors down, three corridors over, twenty-eighth, no, twenty-ninth door to your centre." The Doctor pulled himself out from underneath the console slowly, just enough to nod at her encouragingly as she painfully got to her feet. "I can't do a bloody thing without it. Go on, then. 'Atta girl." She didn't take kindly to his expression, but silently decided that desperate times called for desperate tongue biting, and was sprinting down the hall before she knew it.
The Doctor remained, his hand disappearing into the darkness, and retracting to slowly reveal a toolbox at his side. With a brooding stare, he wrenched himself free from the console and rose to his feet. He pulled down his sleeves, reached for his leather jacket that lay strewn across the console, and took one glance down the TARDIS hallway before hastily stepping outside, locking the door behind him. There were two keys clenched in his fist, his own and Rose's, which he managed to slip out of her pocket just before she went on her fruitless search
