Jackie Tyler was wearing a pink satin dressing gown, and pink fluffy slippers. Her hair was piled up loosely, because her roots needed doing, and it didn't look at its best when it was like that, so she'd found a pink clip in a draw. Probably one of Roses old ones... she was always finding them about the house. She had her make up on of course, just the bare minimum of lipstick, eyeshadow and mascara, oh and just a touch of powder. She'd dabbed a bit of perfume on too. The chemist on the High Street had been giving away tiny samples of a new posh one, so she'd grabbed a handful. Hussy, she thought it was called. Not a bad smell. That new postman was quite good looking, and you never know where a smile could lead, so it was best to look presentable, even at this time of the morning. Just in case. She walked over to the kitchen table and put a mug of tea down, splashing a bit, but not really noticing, not really... housework didn't start till after 'Trisha' anyway.
She looked at Rose. "You gonna drink that?"
Rose stared at the mug of tea. The mug was chipped, but her Mum wouldn't throw it away, cos it was a Charles and Diana Royal Wedding one. Sentimental value, she said. Rose just thought it was a chipped mug, like all the others. Any way it wasn't even 'her' mug. She used the one with the picture of the... she couldn't remember. Her head hurt.
"I said are you going to drink your tea?"
"Course." Rose reached out and took hold of the mug, dragging it across the table toward her.
"You're in a funny mood this morning." Jackie said as she dropped two slices of bread into the toaster.
"Am I?" Rose sipped the tea. It was too hot, too sweet, too milky. She drank it anyway. "Why?"
"Dunno." Jackie said, swiching on the radio, then turning it up a little. "Oh, I love this song..."
Rose put the mug back down onto the table top."I feel sort of... sick."
Jackie swung round and put her hand to Roses head. "Well, you don't have a temperature - that's good." She gave her a sudden look of concern. "But, I'll ring the Doctor if you want."
"The Doctor?" Rose looked up suddenly.
"Yeah, well you can't be too careful. Might be a bit tricky getting an appointment though - short notice. But Tina on reception owes me a favour, so she might be able to..."
"No." Rose said.
"You sure love?"
Rose put her hand to her head and felt a sticky warmth run between her fingers. She looked at her hand, seeing the blood. "I'm fine." She said.
"Well if you're sure." Jackie returned to the radio, turning it back down. "Huh... they must think we're stupid."
"Who?"
Jackie put the toast infront of Rose. "Eat up." She encouraged.
"Who thinks who's stupid?"
"It's a prank on the radio love." Jackie shook her head, taking a slice of toast. "Aliens... in Downing Street!"
"What?"
"Oh don't worry... it's probably students." Jackie gave a smile, then on hearing a noise got up, and adjusting her dressing gown, she set off toward the front door, hopefully. "Was that the post?"
Rose sat where she was, looking around the tiny kitchen. The tea in her mug was going cold, except it wasn't her mug, her mug had a picture of a... why couldn't she remember?
Jackie walked back into the kitchen, looking decidedly disappointed. "Wasn't the post, just 'His Majesty'." She said in a sarcastic tone, sitting back down.
"Hi babe." Mickey kissed Roses cheek swiftly and stole her toast, as she stared blankly into his face. "You don't want this do you?" He didn't wait for an answer, and bit into it.
"She's not feeling well." Jackie said.
"Rose?" He sounded concerned, even through a mouthful of toast. He put his hand to her forehead, and frowned. "You're burning up babe."
Jackie stood up. "She was fine a minute ago... a bit quiet maybe."
"Well she ain't now." Mickey took hold of Roses hand and pulled her up to stand next to him.
Rose looked at her hand in his and knew instinctively that something was wrong. Mickey was staring into her eyes with an intensity he didn't possess. Something was very wrong.
"She just needs another cup of tea." Jackie said, full of wisdom.
"Come here." Mickey said softly, and Rose did. "I think you need a Doctor."
Rose stared at Mickey as his words filled her head, until she was dizzy from hearing them. But the voice in her head was... different. Whatever was going on, she felt sure it was bad, very bad. She tore her hand free of Mickeys, and at once felt herself falling into the coming darkness.
Everything was upside down. Rose looked at it all and frowned. Why was it...wooooop - upright again. Better. Much. Especilly the view. She smiled into the face of the man who was holding her in his arms. Oh yes, the view was much improved. He was tall, dark and handsom, with a movie star twinkle in his smile. She was LOVING the view! He was dressed in a RAF uniform, and was considerably good looking, 'dashing' even - where had that word come from, she wondered. But then she was twisted, twirled and spun - in a good way. Oh. Back in his arms again. Then dipped low, but only for a second, then upright again. She caught his arm, her fingers clutching at his sleeve, and he stopped the dance. It was only then that she realised there was music playing. Nothing from her cd collection... but familiar all the same. She looked at him. He was smiling at her. She blushed. Then when she realised, she blushed some more. This was terrible! She didn't do blushing!
"What's wrong?" He asked softly.
American? Rose stared into his eyes. "I know you." She said, so close to remembering. So very close.
"Not as well as I'd like you to." He teased, pulling her in close, so that his lips hovered just above hers. "But...I guess I can't have everything." He reasoned, and swung her out and away from him again. Then she was back, close against him as his arms held her safe. She liked it in his arms.
"Tell me who you are." She lifted her head slightly. Oh his eyes were intense. Was it getting hot? Or was that just her?
"Don't you remember, Rose?" He pouted a little. "Well, I guess I can forgive you." He smiled at her, and the movie star twinkle gleamed.
"You're not really in the RAF are you?"
He laughed softly. "I wish!" He turned her around to the music. "I'm a 51st century intergalactic rogue. Will that do?"
"Not really."
"Didn't think so." He smiled at her warmly. Then with all seriousness he looked deep into her eyes. "I miss you Rose."
"Jack..." Rose said at once. A tear falling. Her heart breaking.
"So you 'do' remember me!" He was delighted.
"I thought... I thought you were dead!"
"As it turns out, the rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated." He turned her around again, swaying her slightly. "But enough about me..." He paused briefly, amazement lighting his eyes. "Did I really just say that?"
Rose grinned. Oh she had missed him so much. So very much. "Jack." She said softly.
He looked at her, gently touching her face. "That's a nasty bump you have there. It's bleeding you know. You'll get blood on your dress if you're not careful."
Rose took a half step away from him, looking at herself. She really was wearing a dress. She looked back up. "It's purple." Was all she could say.
Jack shook his head. "Actually, it's mauve."
"The universal colour for danger." Rose said softly, surprising herself. Where had that come from? The same place as 'dashing' ?
"Oh, you 'have' been paying attention!" Jack looked impressed. "I think you're almost ready."
"For what?"
"Your new dance partner." Jack said, kissing her cheek then letting her go. "He's waiting for you."
"Who?" Rose asked. But Jack was walking away, and it was getting dark again. She tried to run after him, but the darkness took him, and then she was alone, and cold.
Feeling her head throb softly, she unwillingly touched her forehead. But this time she did not feel the sticky warmth of her own blood. She looked at her fingers as she held her hand infront of her, there was no blood. She looked down at her dress, but she was now wearing a rose pink top and jeans. Her favourite jeans. How did she know that? She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a mobile, just as it began to ring. She stared at the small screen, reading the words that were on display.
She spoke them into the darkness, although it was little more than a whisper. "Tardis calling." The phone stopped ringing. For a second the silence was deafening. Then the noise came.
Rose closed her eyes, letting it wash over her. She tried to drown in every note of it's beautiful pitch. It filled her head, her heart, her blood her soul. She opened her eyes, her lashes wet with tears, and looked at the large blue box that was now infront of her. She knew it's name. Shaking, she walked forward through the darkness, her step silent. She put her hand on the aged wooden door and pushed it slightly open. She hesitated, only for a second, then walked inside.
The bright lights of the TARDIS, hurt her eyes a little, at first, until the TARDIS realised, and slightly dimmed them for her. Rose smiled at the old ships kindness. She walked slowly around the console, her fingers trailing a lazy path over levers and buttons and cogs and wheels. Each one widening her smile, until she thought she might burst with happiness. She was home. At last. HOME.
Her hand knocked something off the side of the console, and it slipped to the floor next to her foot. Rose looked at it, then bent down and picked it up. She held it in her hands. It was a wallet of sorts, small and black and made of leather. She opened it. Her smile drifted slightly. Printed quite clearly in bold black letters across the pale ivory paper, were two words. WAKE UP.
Rose looked at them. Wake up - was that it? Was that all she had to do? She could do that. Probably.
The Doctor stood with the suns warm kiss on his face, and wondered how many times he would have to endure its rise and fall alone. This was the third morning since Roses accident, that he had spent watching daylight gradually creep through the less than vigilant night, until it won the sky for another day. He would watch as life stirred, uncurled, and woke. All life. Except the one that mattered. She slept on. Bound in her dreams.
That first morning, the Doctor had returned to the TARDIS. A short while later the old blue box had appeared in the village, next to Ibrocs house. Not long afterwards the Doctor had staggered out through the doors, laden down with books from the TARDIS library, and a handful of magazines he'd found in Roses room. Since then he had spent each day at Roses side, reading to her. Charles Dickens mostly, but sometimes it was 'Cosmopolitan', or 'Marie Claire'. He'd found the glossies to be surprisingly educational. There had been a particularly interesting artical about the curse of cellulite. He'd discovered the best way to apply eyeshadow, the hottest colours of lipstick for the coming months, and learnt that most women were obsessed with bags and shoes. Although he didn't understand why. It hadn't been explained. Plus, there had been a free mascara on the cover of one of the magazines - Rose would be delighted. When she woke up. He knew it didn't matter what he read really. He just wanted her to know he was waiting for her.
Soon, he would go back inside the house and start all over again. He thought that he'd finish 'A Christmas Carol', today. He knew that it wouldn't be long before the prayer bell would ring out, and he didn't want to still be standing outside when that happened. He'd seen enough looks of pity, and it did him no good to see more. He heard a noise, behind him. Surely the villagers weren't up and about already?
He turned to look, a frown appearing, then deepening. Rose stood in the doorway of Ibrocs house. She looked pale, fragile. The Doctor didn't really know how he closed the distance from where he stood, to the doorway, but he did it. Getting there just in time to catch Rose, as she fainted into his arms.