Ye Olde Author's Note: I started this after a re-watch of series one and two, followed by a massive fic binge, and I found myself noticing that several clichés seem to have crept into Ten/Rose fic. Because my mind is contrary beyond belief, I immediately felt the need to write a fic that DIDN'T have - or headed off at the pass - those aforementioned clichés (the ones I noticed, anyway; I have no doubt some (or all) of mine will be commonplace to others). So I hope you enjoy! This isn't beta read, so please let me know if there are any grammatical or plot errors.
And comment, if you're so inclined! I love hearing from you guys!
One Star (at a time)
The cheerful chirp of Rose Tyler's cell phone broke the comfortable silence that she and the Doctor had been enjoying as they worked together to build a tray of snacks and drinks for their weekly reading session in the library.
Rose pulled out her mobile with a slight frown; she and Jackie had talked earlier that day and (even though the Doctor didn't know it yet) she was having tea with Sarah Jane in two days and a girls' night after with Shireen, Keisha, and Jellyfish (her name was actually Jean, but she'd been obsessed with oceans as a kid, and so the name had stuck), so who on Earth . . .
"Oh!" she exclaimed in quiet surprise after reading the text message.
"What is it?" the Doctor asked, the faintest hint of concern tingeing his voice as he crossed the floor to her side, eyes wide as he tried to crane his neck so he could read the small screen.
"Oi!" she scolded him, lightly slapping his hand. "'s not for you."
"You looked worried," he protested, pulling his hand back with an absentminded pout. "And the last time you looked worried, we had to spend four days at your mum's place because you ate shrimp—"
"All right," Rose hastily cut him off, not wanting to relive that particular humiliation. "But this is good news. Keisha and Jason's cousin Tristan is getting married."
At the Doctor's blank look, she suppressed a sigh and elaborated. "That time the ghost ship terrorized London?" she prompted.
Comprehension lit his eyes. "Oh! Yes! Jason! Nice lad, even if he is a little transparent."
Rose did not dignify this with a response.
"Anyway," she said, determined to keep the conversation on track. "Keisha says the wedding is in March next year — for us," she stressed, heading his 'but Rose, time is relevant' speech off at the pass. "And I want to go. Tristan's a sweetheart."
He sighed as though being asked to carry the weight of the universe, a la Atlas.
"Fine," he huffed. "But I'm not sitting with Jackie."
She did not dignify this with a response either.
"Well, what's his name?" the Doctor asked, startling her, as she had thought the conversation was over.
"Tristan," she said slowly, wondering at the question since she'd already told him.
This earned her an odd look before he gave a quick shake of his head and said, "No, the other groom."
Now it was Rose's turn to give him a blank look.
"The man your friend's cousin is marrying. What's his name?"
Okay. Well, she understood the question but not the reasoning.
"He's engaged to a woman," she explained slowly. "Why?"
The Time Lord blinked at her.
"Well, every story you see these days — in your time, anyway — seems to be about same-sex couples and marriage, so I just thought . . ."
He trailed off at the expression on her face before bravely (or stupidly) pushing on.
"Well, you humans get odd notions now and then, so I thought you were going through a period of — of 'same everything'," he stammered, wincing a little at the look Rose was giving him.
She stared at him for another minute before rolling her eyes and lightly slapping his chest.
"You are such a daft nutter," she told him with an indulgent smile.
Encouraged by this, the Doctor grinned back and — always eager for a good play on words and/or a bad pun — asked the question he'd been biting back since the conversation had started.
"Please tell me her name is Isolde?" he begged, eyes bright with slightly-manic glee. This apparent non-sequitur took Rose off-guard, but only for a moment — and then she rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.
"Oh, my God," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. "You are an absolute idiot. No," she continued before he could protest the comparison to Mickey, "her name is not Isolde. It's Molly."
The Doctor was truly crestfallen by this news, and gave a heavy sigh as his shoulders slumped. What was it with humans and their refusal to go back to those beautiful, ancient names of their own history?
I mean, Molly. What kind of name was that? Except —
"No, she's not unsinkable or named Brown." Rose crushed his unspoken hope with casual ease, well-familiar with the Doctor's penchant for a bad pun that he called a good play on words.
"Now, come on," she continued, catching his tie and lightly tugging on it to bring him to her side. "Grab the tea so we can get to the library. I'm dying to know what's going to happen to Mr Darcy's grandson."
And if she gave him a tongue-poked smile to just to see him blush and swallow, well . . .
Who could blame her?
After all, what better way to seduce a Time Lord than one star at a time?
\*\/*/
When she and the Doctor finally gave in to the feelings and the passion that had been building and swirling around them for months, Rose honestly expected it to be fast and explosive, leaving them no time or inclination to think until they emerged from the bedroom a week or so later.
And, truthfully, if it had happened in the aftermath of 'world-saving/serious danger/long separation,' that's exactly how it would have gone down.
Instead, that final shift to 'yes, we are in love (even if we don't say it) and are actually doing something with it' occurred on a normal evening, in the library, with Rose settled at the end of the couch and the Doctor lying on his back, hands resting on his chest, and his head in her lap. She was reading aloud from a fantasy novel new to both of them and carding the fingers of her free hand through the Doctor's thick hair, enjoying the soft purrs of appreciation coming from his throat. When she reached the end of the chapter, she took a minute to look down — and found him watching her with eyes burning with desire, but also adoration and pride.
And this time, he didn't look away.
That first kiss was amazing: messy, a little off-center to begin with, and at an awkward angle, but also full of passion and all of the unspoken emotions they had felt for so long. Things were getting heated, with ever-deepening kisses and hands that got bolder with every minute, when Rose had an unwelcome but necessary moment of clear thought.
"Wait," she gasped, gently pushing the Doctor away before scooting back herself, knowing they would need space for this conversation. She passionately did not want to do this now, but her experiences with Jimmy and Mickey had taught her the necessity.
"Why?" her disheveled Time Lord asked plaintively, running a hand through his hair to stop himself from reaching for her again.
Rose swallowed hard before meeting his eyes.
"Because this is a conversation we need to have now, before we can go any further," she told him in a mostly-steady voice.
The conviction in her eyes and posture broke through his lust and the Doctor nodded, sitting back a little further and giving her his complete attention.
Rose swallowed again, hating herself a little for denying them the joy of at least one time together if this issue was a deal-breaker, but knowing that the memory would always be tainted if they did. And, since there was no easy way to say it, she simply ripped the plaster off.
"I have a question, Doctor, and I need you to answer it completely honestly," she began, watching him carefully and cutting off his instinctive protest. "I mean it," she said quietly. "You can't tell me what you think I want to hear or what you think the 'right' answer is. I have to know what you think."
Confusion darkened his eyes, but he nodded slowly.
Rose gave herself a few more precious seconds before blurting it out.
"Do you want to have children?"
Silence.
Finally, the Doctor spoke.
"Rose, wha—"
"No," she cut him off, more harshly than she'd intended. "I'll explain, but I need to know, first." He looked unconvinced, but sighed when she whispered, "Please, Doctor. I have to know," and nodded. He studied her for several seconds that felt like eternity before sighing again.
"To be completely truthful, Rose, no. No, I don't want children."
His stark, unembellished answer hung in the air for a minute before Rose blew out a deep breath and looked down, taking a moment to compose herself.
"Okay," she said when she looked back up, meeting his eyes again. They were full of understanding now, but no anger (a fact she noticed with relief). "That's — okay."
"And what about you, Rose Tyler?" he asked, his tongue sliding along the syllables of her name in that way he had, the one that always made her just a little weak in the knees. It made her giddy to know that she didn't have to hide it anymore, and also that she didn't need to worry about his reaction.
"No," she told him, reaching out to take his hands and smiling a little when their fingers automatically entwined. "Not even a little bit."
A small smile crossed his own lips as he continued to watch her, his eyes filling with pride again, which puzzled her a bit. As though reading her mind, he answered that unspoken question.
"I'm amazed that you had the discipline to stop us and ask something that needed to be addressed — which, honestly, I would never even have thought of. You are incredible, Rose Tyler."
And there it was again, her name in that voice that just oozed pride and adoration. If she'd been standing up, her knickers would have flown across the room. But even more, Rose loved him because he didn't ask if she was sure or the always popular 'but what if you change your mind?' or any of the other tripe she'd been subjected to over the years. In this, he trusted her to know her own mind and that was the highest compliment he could pay her.
Also, she'd stopped them in the middle of an extremely passionate snog and since they were on the same page . . .
Again reading her mind, the Doctor gave her a slow, seductive smile and leaned forward, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that wiped every thought but how good he felt out of her mind.
It wasn't a full week before either of them remembered words other than 'Rose,' 'Doctor,' and 'yes!', but four days was definitely a good start.
\*\/*/
After they came back from their first adventure following that initial week of passion (Rose took great pride in being the one to knock his socks off (literally, at one point), even if she had soothe his bruised ego afterwards), she had a random thought flit across her mind, something that, normally, would have been a major issue but had fallen to the wayside in the wake of their passionate coming-together.
As always, the memories made her smile, but it faded immediately as her realization made itself known again.
"Rose?" the Doctor asked, sensitive to her mood (or because the TARDIS had told him; it was an even bet there). "What's wrong?"
She swiveled to look at him, her eyes wide with the disbelief that she honestly hadn't noticed how easy their transition to lovers had been.
As she had yet to speak, the Doctor grew alarmed and came quickly to her, taking her hands and searching her eyes.
"What is it, agapiménos?" he coaxed, tenderness warring with concern as she continued to stare at him.
The unusual term threw her for a loop and Rose blinked. "Agapiménos?" she repeated, only slightly mangling the word. "What's that mean?"
Her jaw dropped when the Doctor actually blushed, his eyes darting away as he thought about stuttering for an answer. To his credit, this only lasted a few seconds before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn't accept an evasion.
"It — well, the closest translation you can get from the original Greek is 'sweetheart,'" he replied, his composure regained (though the tips of his ears were still a little red).
She had to literally fist her hands into her shirt to keep from grabbing him, but Rose manfully refrained. He'd take it as mockery if she praised him and if she snogged him the way she so badly wanted to, her question would never get an answer.
Speaking of that . . .
"Thank you," she told him sincerely, hoping he heard just how much she meant it. "An' nothing's wrong; I just suddenly realized . . . "
Here she trailed off, abruptly realizing how odd this was going to sound (which was par for the course for them, really, so why was she worried about that?), but determined to push on.
The Doctor, unaware of her small mental detour, rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand but didn't speak (another first for him; he was learning).
"Well, I just — when we finally . . . well . . . "
She was blushing madly, but a piece of long-ignored advice from her mother suddenly came to mind: if you can't talk about sex like an adult, you shouldn't be having it. This was a fair point.
So she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and looked her lover straight in the eye. This could not possibly be as hard as the 'children' question, and the sooner she got this over with, the sooner they could find better things to do (and really, that list was endless).
"When we made love that first time," she started again, feeling a bit smug when he blushed; as least it wasn't just her. "It was — amazing," she interrupted herself, seeing that 'Oh, my God, you're questioning my prowess!' panic that is universal to males the galaxy over. Men and their egos.
He calmed at her reassurance but still looked a little skittish, so she turned her hands over and twined their fingers, smiling softly when he instantly (albeit subtly) relaxed.
"You know how amazing it was, you silly man," she continued, giving him the tongue-touched smile he loved so much. "But I was just wondering — well, you'd been . . . well . . . it took us a long time," she finished somewhat diplomatically, inwardly cursing herself for failing to think this through before opening her mouth.
He looked a little amused, but there was still a question in his eyes and she huffed, trying to think of the best way to phrase her question before deciding to just spit it out.
"An' I just wonder why you never gave me the 'you deserve better' speech — or the 'I'm not worthy' one," she said rapidly, feeling her skin go tomato-red as she finished the thought.
The Doctor looked at her steadily for several minutes before shaking his head and giving her a slow, rueful smile.
"I did," he replied. "Why do you think it took us a year to actually get here?"
Rose needed a moment to digest this.
"So," she began slowly, feeling her way through this. "You — what? Decided to have an internal panic attack instead of babbling about it to every Jack, Jabe, and Lynda we came across?"
She wasn't upset at all, but she was incredulous, and the Doctor winced, tugging on his ear.
"Weeeeell," he hedged, searching for an answer that didn't make him sound like a human adolescent and failing miserably. "Yes?"
Rose shook her head as several things finally fell into place, internally marveling at how stupid both of them had been.
"So . . . all the pushing away and non-Doctorly behavior . . . Lynda, Mickey, France, those stupid Krillitane . . . was your version of 'you deserve better than me'?" she finally said, her eyes firmly locked with his. To her surprise, he held her gaze easily — and openly.
"Yes," he replied softly. "Because you do deserve better. But you want me and I finally realized that even I'm not stupid enough to turn you away, Rose Tyler. E—"
His last thought was cut off by Rose's lips (and tongue, and oh! She had just bitten him! Oh, he liked that.).
She finally had to breathe and tore her lips from his, pulling a whimper from his throat as he tried to yank her back to him. She caught his hands and grinned, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes sparking with mischievous lust (or was it the other way around?).
"Good," she told him. "Because I deserve you an' you deserve me, and now that that's settled, I want to take you to bed."
He nodded vigorously at this, giving her a smile that was supposed to be sultry but came out a bit goofy.
And also a lot ecstatic, if he was honest.
So, in their time-honored tradition, he grabbed her hand and twined their fingers. She looked down, then up at him, and laughed.
"Run!"
\*\/*/
Rose and the Doctor had been at Jackie's for a day and so far things had gone fairly well. Jackie made tea, the Doctor kept his sonic screwdriver away from any- and everything electrical, and Rose did her best to spend equal time with each of them while keeping them separated.
That night, after Jackie had finally given in and gone to bed, warning them both to be there for breakfast or else, the Doctor sat up on the lumpy, cramped sofa and groaned softly as his back protested the cruel treatment it had been subjected to.
He tried, he really did, but he simply didn't rest well if he wasn't with Rose. So, with a wary look at Jackie's door, he quietly made his way down to Rose's room, knocking softly before carefully easing the door open.
She lay on her back, blonde hair spread out like an octopus from Helicoric XI (the ones with 102 tentacles), her eyes half-open and glazed with sleep as she regarded him.
He stared back her, thinking that he'd never seen anything so adorable. Oh, Time take it! The last of the Time Lords was utterly infatuated with a 21st century human woman.
And he was happier than he'd been in such a long, long time.
While he was ruminating, Rose had woken up and was giving him a long, thoughtful perusal that made him shift a little nervously. He knew full well that she hated being awakened for anything less than the end of the world (or a new Lord of the Rings movie). But after a moment, she smiled and held out her hand.
"Well, come on, then," she said, wiggling her fingers. "I'm tired and you haven't slept in a few days, so I know you're about due."
The Doctor hesitated for a few seconds before shedding his trousers and crawling under the covers, curving his body around hers as she shifted to her side and fit herself against him, sighing in sheer contentment.
Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.
*\/*
A loud screech yanked them out of a peaceful slumber, sending them both stumbling out of bed and looking frantically around for the danger they faced, the Doctor trying with one hand to dig his sonic screwdriver out of the pocket of the trousers he wasn't wearing while the other searched for Rose.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Rose, having had twenty-two years of experience, instantly recognized her mother's voice and calmed a bit, her mental alarm decreasing from 'mauve' to 'violet.'
(This was still not good, mind, but not lethal either. Well, not yet.)
Deciding that casual was her best bet, she faced Jackie and forced a smile, squeezing the Doctor's hand for support but also as a silent warning to let her handle this.
"Hey, Mum," she said easily, noting her mother's beetled eyebrows and clenched jaw with no small trepidation. "What'd you need?"
Jackie stared at her incredulously for a minute before she exploded.
"What I need is to know why the hell he's in here and not wearin' clothes!" she shouted, pointing at the Doctor (who had managed to get his trousers on and promptly chosen the better part of valor by moving so that he could jump out the window, should the need arise).
Rose blinked, confused until she saw the fear behind the anger and suddenly remembered that they hadn't told Jackie yet that they were together.
Ah, bloody buggering hell. Well, the cat was out of the bag now.
Rose swallowed before meeting her mother's eyes, feeling the Doctor's presence at her back as he moved to support her.
"He's here because couples generally sleep together," she said evenly, a tiny smile coming to her lips as the Doctor tangled their fingers and beamed at Jackie.
"It really didn't have anything to do with your sofa, Jackie, it's a lovely piece of furniture," he said rapidly, cringing internally as he recognized the signs of an approaching babble and desperately hoping that Rose would stop him.
As it happened, she didn't need to. Jackie ignored him completely, instead focusing her ire on her daughter.
"And how long has this been going on?" she demanded loudly, her voice going shrill and making the Doctor wince.
In contrast, Rose stood firm and confident, not giving way to her mother's temper — and feeling a spark of irritation flare, even though she'd known full well this would happen.
"We've been together about four months," she said, pressing a little closer to the Doctor and smiling at the soft kiss he dropped in her hair.
There was complete silence in Rose's bedroom for two full minutes, and then Jackie erupted.
"YOU'VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH HIM FOR FOUR MONTHS?!"
The window actually rattled as she paused to take a breath, only to be completely blindsided when Rose calmly said, "Yes. And yes, you've seen us since then."
Jackie's jaw actually dropped as she found herself without a single thing to say.
Undaunted, Rose continued, trying hard to tamp down her aggravation with her mother's histrionics while still respecting that Jackie was her mother.
"We didn't say anything, Mum, because we wanted to make sure that this change was a good thing — and that it would last. After . . . after Jimmy" (the Doctor's grip on her hand tightened in silent support) "and even Mickey, I finally grew up enough to be in an adult relationship."
"And she's amazing," the Doctor added, shifting behind her so he could wrap his other arm around her waist. "She's incredible, Jackie, and we . . . we're amazing."
Jackie shifted her glare from her daughter to her daughter's alien lover, and the Time Lord had the sudden thought that he was about to find out if it was, in fact, possible to incinerate a person with a look.
She started to say something, paused, and visibly rethought her words. Then, taking a deep breath, she fixed the two of them with a hard look and said, "Well, you obviously don't care about my opinion, and I clearly can't stop you from doing this foolish thing."
Rose flinched, which nearly caused the Doctor to snap at Jackie, because that was not fair. He wanted desperately to say something to his — oh, God, Jackie Tyler was his mother-in-law for all intents and purposes — but Rose beat him to it, having finally reached her limit.
"And that, Mum, is the other reason we didn't tell you," she snapped. "I knew you'd be like this and we wanted to enjoy being together and happy without dealing with — with this," she finished, flapping a hand in Jackie's direction in a vague way that said nothing but still managed to convey her aggravation.
"Like what?" Jackie demanded belligerently, her jaw tight with anger.
"Like this," Rose answered. "Judgmental and angry about something that, really, isn't your business."
To everyone's shock, this took the wind right out of Jackie's sails and the room went quiet again.
After a few endless minutes, Jackie finally took a deep breath as the last of her anger drained away.
"You're right," she said quietly, actually looking at them both to acknowledge what she hadn't wanted to see. "It's not my business, even though you're my daughter and I just you to be happy and safe."
The jab struck a nerve and both of them flinched, although Rose rallied quickly, giving her mother a warning look. That was a fair point, but it had also been snotty and condescending.
"But if you're happy, Rose, then I'll leave it be. Just — just be happy," Jackie implored, refusing to let her daughter look away. To her surprise, Rose smiled and stepped forward to hug her. Jackie fought back tears as she held her daughter, hating the situation because she was so terribly afraid that she was losing Rose, one star at a time. If keeping her daughter even a little longer meant accepting her dating (dating!) the Doctor, then so be it.
But that didn't mean she liked it. Or that she had to make it easy on them.
"Thanks, Mum," Rose whispered, kissing her on the cheek before going back to the Doctor's side, their fingers twining together so easily that Jackie actually felt a twinge of wistful envy, though it was immediately overshadowed by residual anger at the soft kiss she pressed to his lips.
"Well, hurry up, then," she said a little too loudly in an attempt to separate them. It worked and Jackie took a few seconds to enjoy the satisfaction of it (even though she knew it was petty). "We need to eat now because Mo and Bev have decided to organize some kind of picnic-trivia-lunch thing with the girls from the salon, and Bev's bringing Tom and his cousins, so it'll be a pretty big 'do. And, since neither of them can boil water, we don't want to be hungry."
The Doctor squawked in protest but subsided at Rose's warning look.
"All right," she agreed, though she couldn't completely hide the dismay she was feeling. Truthfully, Jackie was feeling the same, but what can you do? When your best friends have odd quirks, you just have to remember that they think the same thing about you.
Rose and the Doctor split up so they could start gathering clothes and whatnot, which had the unfortunate effect of reminding Jackie that they were having sex, and she took a bit of mean satisfaction in what she was about to do.
"Oh, and tonight?" she called, causing both of them to pause mid-step on their way out of the bedroom. It was almost comical, the way they turned in perfect sync and gave her identical wary looks.
"Tonight . . . " Rose repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing and suddenly making Jackie uncomfortably aware that she wasn't a little girl any more. She refused to back down, though.
"Tonight, you sleep in separate rooms," she told them.
Once again, silence fell. This time, it only lasted a few seconds.
"No," Rose said calmly, meeting her mother's eyes easily.
"'No'?" she repeated, her voice going shrill again. "Whaddya mean, 'no?'"
"I mean 'no'," Rose answered, taking the Doctor's hand.
Amazingly, he hadn't said a word since he'd confirmed he and Rose were sleeping together. It was unnerving, though Jackie was thankful for it. Arguing with him was like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree.
Rose's voice drew her back to the present.
"I'm not a child, Mum, and neither is the Doctor. And you don't get to treat us that way just 'cause you're having a strop that we're together."
This was a valid point, but in her current mood, it only served to piss Jackie off.
"Well, missy, as long as you're in my house, then you'll follow my rules!" she shot back, folding her arms and scowling at the pair. "And my rule is that you don't stay in the same room."
Rose sucked in a deep breath through her nose and clenched her jaw, looking at the Doctor for a long moment before returning her gaze to her mother.
"You know what, that's fair," she said, startling Jackie. Capitulation was very unlike Rose, and she was suspicious at how easy that had been.
"So we'll just stay on the TARDIS tonight and leave tomorrow after breakfast."
What?
"What?!" she gasped, taking an involuntary step forward. "But — but you can't! I haven't seen you in ages; you can't leave so soon!"
Rose folded her arms across her chest and gave her mother a narrow-eyed look.
"Well, Mum, you don't want us to be together while we're here — which I understand — but we're not willing to be apart, and I'm guessin' you won't let us be affectionate either" (this earned her an involuntary start, as Jackie had been thinking exactly that) "so we'll spend the day with you, go home to sleep after we get back, and see you in the morning, and everyone's happy."
No, everyone was not happy, but Jackie didn't have a chance to respond, because Rose turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, with the Doctor falling in at her side as naturally as breathing.
And Jackie Tyler finally had to face the fact that her baby girl had grown up and left home — a fact that Rose was fully aware of and completely comfortable with.
Oh, life was going to be so different, now. And, frankly, Jackie didn't like it (him) one bit. But she was forced to admit that children do eventually grow up, no matter how much their parents wished otherwise. And, truthfully, Rose called her at least once a week and visited (by Jackie's reckoning) at least once a month, and that was more than a lot of the mothers she knew got from their kids. In that regard, Jackie was lucky: her daughter loved her and did want to be around her.
But in her heart, she knew she was still going to lose Rose.
One star at a time.
\*\/*/
Several weeks later, as the initial 'honeymoon' phase was easing into 'comfortable familiarity', Rose had another realization. This one was brought on by Tristan's upcoming wedding, which Keisha was keeping her updated on.
And, to be honest, she was a lot more nervous about asking this than she had been about having kids. But. It was something she wanted and — as the Doctor had taught her — it was okay to have what she wanted.
It was four days after he had taken her to see a sunrise on a jungle world, tranquil and filled with the most magnificent flying dragons.
Four days after she'd told him she was staying with him forever, and meant it.
Four days after he didn't answer the question she hadn't thought to ask.
Well, there was no time like the present.
"Doctor?" she called softly as she entered their bedroom, hoping he was done with his shower (it was hard to resist wet, soapy Time Lord).
"Hmm?" came from the giant walk-in closet on the opposite side from the bathroom.
"D'you — are you dressed?" she asked, taking a few steps in that direction, only to pause when he poked his head out from behind the closet door, hair damp and spiky, and eyes full of curiosity.
"Pretty much. What do you need?" he said, coming around the door and making her mouth water at the picture he made: barefoot, in green pajama pants and a loose black Jurassic Park 2707 t-shirt. God, he was gorgeous.
"I have . . . well, I want . . . do — oh!" she groaned in frustration, irritated with herself for not having thought this out better.
"Rose?"
His voice was full of tender concern and his touch loving as he drew her to him in a warm embrace.
"Hey," he murmured when she didn't speak after a minute, putting a finger under her chin and urging her to look at him. "You can ask me anything, Rose. Anything."
A slightly-hysterical giggle fought to escape at that, but Rose forced it down. Now wasn't the time to point out his closed-mouth tendencies. "I know," she replied instead, managing to keep her gaze locked with his. "I'm just . . . nervous, 's all."
His eyes turned tender and he hugged her close again. "Ah, agapiménos, you should never be afraid to ask me something," he breathed, the Greek endearment making her shiver like it always did.
Well, there it was. And the longer she waited, the harder it was going to get. So, with a deep breath to steel herself, Rose pushed back a little from him so she could meet his gaze without breaking his embrace.
"I know you aren't human," she began, absently tracing the dinosaur pattern on his shirt. "And that's okay. But I am," she added, causing the Doctor to close his mouth on whatever he'd been about to day. "And a few days ago, I promised you forever."
His eyes lit at her words, making her smile at his obvious joy. God, she hoped this didn't ruin everything. With a deep breath to steel her courage, she blurted it out.
"And like I said, I'm human and in my culture, promising someone 'forever' generally comes with marriage."
His eyes darkened a little at that, but he said nothing, waiting patiently for her to finish her thought. She swallowed hard before continuing.
It's okay for me to want this.
"And I want that with you," she said in a rush, holding his gaze with a steadiness that surprised her.
And then he smiled, his eyes lighting with delight.
"Rose Tyler!" he exclaimed quietly. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
His whole countenance was open and light, and Rose relaxed a bit, seeing that this wasn't going to send him running for the nearest black hole.
"Well, yeah," she replied with a shrug. "The last time you got down on one knee, the K'xillian'z claimed it was a mortal insult to their child god and we had to use those giant pogo sticks to get away."
"I had to tie my shoe!" he exclaimed, looking affronted though his eyes sparkled with mirth. "But I believe you just asked me a very important question, Rose Tyler, and it's bad manners not to answer."
With that, he dropped to one knee, taking her hands in his, and looked up at her, that dark brown gaze full of all the things he wouldn't — or maybe couldn't — say. Her heart began to pound.
"Rose Tyler, it will be my absolute privilege to be your husband," he declared, brushing a kiss across her left ring finger. "We'll go ring shopping tomorrow."
Her heart nearly bursting from happiness, Rose tugged him to his feet and kissed him with a joyous passion. He responded just as ardently and began walking them to the bed, tugging impatiently at her shirt as they moved, only to pause bare inches from the footboard.
"I do have one stipulation," he told her, his eyes serious.
"What?" she breathed, her hands going still on his waist.
"Jackie is not planning our wedding," he said. "We're going to call Alistair and Sarah Jane and elope. We can have a party after."
Rose started to protest in automatic defense of her mother, only to remember Shireen's graduation party. And Bev's third wedding reception.
"Done."
\*\/*/
The Doctor was actually the one to bring up telepathy, which surprised Rose less than she would have imagined, after she'd had the chance to think about it.
The Tardis had landed them on a world where the entire population was either telepathic or empathic, a world that was increasingly out of mental balance for reasons no one could discern, and the Doctor, being both himself (highest authority in the universe, anyone?) and a powerful telepath, was — in theory — the perfect person to help.
In theory.
In actual fact, it had been a horrible idea and the solution had nearly killed him. When it was all over and balance was restored (whatever the hell that meant. Rose still wasn't completely sure what that whole thing had been about; possessing no discernable psychic abilities of her own, she had been the only one still standing when the force field had been destroyed, holding her lover tightly and begging him to wake up, it had worked.), she still had no idea what had truly happened. He had slept for nearly thirty hours, given her a crushing, rib-cracking hug, then taken them to a universe-famous All-You-Can-Eat buffet. And, her jaw hanging open, Rose watched as he bought every seat in the restaurant and proceeded to literally eat everything in the building that was safely consumable.
Even the chefs were impressed.
And he didn't get sick afterwards, damn the alien's enviable digestive system (and metabolism). He didn't put on an ounce of weight, either.
But after he'd fully recovered from the experience and proven it by taking Rose to bed (after the papasan in the library and that nifty little alcove halfway down the hall to her old room), he had asked her to meet him in the water garden with tea and quickly disappeared. Mystified, Rose stared at the empty door for several minutes before shrugging and heading for the galley; it looked like she was going to get a least a few of the answers she'd been itching to hear for two days now.
When she found him, he was barefoot and wearing only his shirt and trousers, lazily swinging on their favorite hammock and staring at the waterfall the Tardis had recreated after their visit to Pollyton 7. His head came up at the sound of her footsteps and he gave her the soft smile that always melted her heart, because it was one he gave no one else, and it always showed her just how happy he was to see her. She smiled back and carefully set their tea tray on the small table next to the hammock before kicking off her shoes and settling herself against him, resting her head against his stomach and sighing in contentment as he began to stroke her hair.
After a few minutes of contented silence, he finally broke it with a soft, "You know, I've been waiting for you to ask about . . . about telepathy . . . for months, Rose. I had a grand answer all planned and ready, and then you never said anything," he playfully chided her, the tenderness of touch belying any possible misinterpretation of his words and feelings.
Caught off-guard, Rose simply lay quietly for a moment before she mustered up a response.
"Well, I just — I figured you'd say somethin' when you were ready," she told him, starting to lift up so she could meet his eyes, but acquiescing when he gently but firmly kept her head where it was. "An' from what you told me, it's a — well, it didn't seem like a happy subject for you, so I just . . ."
She trailed off, not sure how to end that thought.
He huffed out a soft sound that really couldn't be called 'laughter' but wasn't bitter, either, and tenderly caressed her cheek before clearing his throat.
"Happy?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful. "Not really, no, but not — not painful, either," he said, his fingers playing with the long strands of her hair. "It's — my people did have psychic abilities, as you know," he said a touch abruptly, startling her a little at the sudden change. "But that myth of telepathic or marriage bonds, well . . . it's just that," he told her, still not letting her look at him. "We — Gallifreyans stopped mentally bonding centuries ago, if they ever truly did," he continued, his voice so even it was making her a little nervous. "We could, if necessary, share surface thoughts and emotions with full consent on everyone's part, but an actual mental 'bond' doesn't exist."
He stopped suddenly, tense, and after a few seconds of awkward silence, Rose realized he was waiting for her to say something.
She just wished she knew what, because she rather felt as though she'd missed part of the conversation.
"Alright," she finally ventured, hoping it would be enough for him to continue. Thankfully, it was.
"Well, I know you've been . . . curious," he said carefully, his fingers leaving her hair to rest lightly on her shoulder. She frowned at this before remembering what he'd just said: he could sense emotions with consent, and it wasn't like she would refuse that if he asked. And, frankly, this went a long way toward explaining why he was so good at sussing out her moods and acting accordingly.
But did she want that all the time?
Well, no, and since he'd just said that wasn't possible anyway, she mentally rolled her eyes at herself.
She hadn't realized until now how much the idea had been on her mind, and found herself thankful that he'd finally decided to talk about it, because she knew she would never have found the courage to ask. Especially since she was fairly sure it wasn't something she particularly wanted. At least, not without a hell of a lot more information.
Oblivious to (or ignoring; it could easily be either one) her meandering thoughts, the Doctor kept talking.
"And I've wanted to tell you this for a while, but I thought it prudent to wait until we were, well . . . sure . . . about us," he finished a bit uncertainly, his hand tightening on her shoulder.
"Okay," Rose said, nodding into his stomach, stretching a hand out to him in silent entreaty and smiling when he immediately grasped it with his free hand, twining their fingers and resting their joined hands against his lower chest.
"Okay?" he repeated in a high voice, clearing his throat when Rose nodded again. "Okay," he said a second time. "Right. Well, as I said, mental bonds as they portray them on film or books don't exist."
He was repeating himself, which Rose secretly found adorable; it meant he was flustered but not upset, and it was so human that Rose cherished it like she did few other things.
"At best, I can sense strong emotion or . . . well, prolonged . . . feelings from — from you," he added carefully. As she'd already figured this out, Rose said nothing and waited patiently for him to continue.
"And?" she prodded after when he didn't after a minute. He wanted to talk, but hated doing so, and she frequently had to draw it out of him. It had bothered her until she'd grasped that his reticence was simply another form of protection for him . . . and his best way to see if the person asking the questions was truly serious about wanting to know. It had made her cry when she'd finally understood that, and realized just how few people had really cared about him rather than what he could offer them, for him to have to developed that particular self-preservation technique.
"And," he repeated back, his hand sliding from her shoulder to her neck and rubbing gently at the soft skin beneath her hair. "Well, that's it, really. I — I just — thought you should know that we can't form any kind of bond, in case it was . . . well, in case it was something you . . . well, something you might want."
Ah, there it was. He wasn't sure if he was disappointing her or making her happy with this news, hence the most soothing place he could think of on the Tardis. It also explained his refusal to make eye contact.
Daft alien man.
"Alright," she answered him, finally pushing up firmly enough to meet his eyes so he could see her sincerity as well as sense it. "That's fine, Doctor. If it was something you wanted — and could do, I s'pose — then we would have talked about it."
He blinked at this but made no verbal response, so she continued, shifting up further so she could straddle him. "But it's not an option, so that's fine. I'm not unhappy or disappointed, I promise."
He blinked again, then smiled, his eyes going soft with that deep, tender affection that always made Rose want to swoon (she didn't, because she wasn't in a bloody Victorian romance novel, but it made her want to).
"Well, then, Rose Tyler," he breathed, catching her free hand with his and pulling her even closer. "I didn't make any plans for today, so . . ." his fingers trailed lightly down her back, then slipped up under her shirt, lightly skimming her skin until she squirmed against him, both ticklish and aroused. At his sudden sharp intake of breath, she glanced up from under her lashes and bit her lip at the desire she saw on his face.
"Weeeell," she drawled in an excellent imitation of him, placing both hands against his chest and pushing him back until he was lying horizontal beneath her. "I thought I might have my way with you on this giant swing."
"Brilliant."
\*\/*/
The sound of the TARDIS wheezing its way into her front room had Jackie Tyler rolling her eyes and spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste. Honestly! Could that alien not find ANYWHERE else in the whole of London to park his giant box?
On the heels of this thought came the realization that with said alien and his blue box came Rose, who she didn't get to see nearly often enough. Maybe this time, Jackie could persuade her to stay longer than two days, and even coax her into a good long shopping trip. Without the Doctor hanging about. She would reluctantly concede that this version was more tolerable than the first one, but she still didn't really like him — and she most definitely did not approve of his relationship with Rose. She had learned to keep that sentiment to herself, however; the last time she'd said something uncomplimentary about the Doctor, Rose hadn't come to visit for almost two months. It didn't help that every time things with him settled into something that resembled 'acceptance,' he would say or do something that knocked it back 100 years. She sometimes wondered if it was intentional — a ploy to keep Rose from wanting to come home.
"Mum?" came her daughter's voice, drifting down the hall. "Are you here?"
"Coming, sweetheart!" Jackie called back, doing one last rinse-and-spit before giving her hands a hasty wash and dry. That done, she hurried out of the bathroom and promptly collided with Rose. The resultant tangle looked like something out of a sports blooper tape, but it ended with mother and daughter in a tight, happy hug.
"Oh, Rose, you look so good!" Jackie exclaimed, taking in her new tan, sparkling eyes, and confident stance. As little as she liked the Doctor, she had to admit that he was doing wonders for Rose's self-esteem (it worried her as well, because any idiot could see that Rose idolized him and that couldn't possibly end well, whatever they said about 'compatible' and 'human/alien').
"So do you," Rose replied, giving her one last hug before pulling away and turning to go back to the Doctor.
And Jackie's world shattered.
Glittering on Rose's left ring finger was an emerald ring — an emerald engagement ring.
Anger quickly eclipsed her shock. Rose and the Doctor had gotten engaged without even bothering to tell her! Well, why was she surprised? They hadn't told her they were dating, either — for four whole months. God knows how long it would have taken if she hadn't caught them in bed together.
She saw Rose see her notice the ring, then saw the Doctor register Rose's reaction, but neither of them apologized, or even had the grace to look ashamed, and she saw red, marching forward as her hand rose to slap the Doctor.
All her life, Jackie Tyler had been a force of nature, with people (and animals and the occasional appliance) giving way to her and, in general, assuring that what she wanted, she got. She was therefore shocked when her wrist was caught in an iron grip, stopping her palm from making contact with the alien's cheek, and her furious retort died when she saw the anger blazing in his eyes.
"No, Jackie," he said softly, his voice even (and yet somehow menacing) and his grip unchanged. "You don't get to slap me, because I — we — haven't done anything wrong. And even if we had," he continued, overriding her instinctive protest at his claim of innocence, "it still wouldn't give you the right to hit me. We're all adults here, and we're going to act like it."
"And that means we're going to have a calm, reasonable discussion about this, Mum," Rose interjected, startling Jackie. She hadn't even registered her daughter's presence once the Doctor had grabbed her arm. It was only then that she realized he still held it and she tugged a little in a silent bid to be released. His grip tightened in response and she sucked in a sharp breath, her anger rising again. He only stoked it higher when he said, "I'll let you go when I can trust you to behave. Will you?" and she nearly hauled off with her other hand.
The only thing that stopped her was Rose: the expression on her face was a complicated mixture of resignation, embarrassment, shame, and anger, and Jackie relaxed a little at that. At least Rose understood that they had behaved badly. This might be enough to make her rethink shagging an alien who didn't even have the decency to get her mother's blessing and permission to date her, never mind marry her.
She might even come home.
Jackie was so lost in her daydream that her daughter's next words were a slap in the face.
"I'm sorry, ashram," she said quietly . . . to the Doctor. "I really thought she'd be okay. Guess I shoulda known better, but . . . I'm sorry," she murmured again, taking his other hand and bringing it to her lips. Stunned, Jackie could only gawk in disbelief as the alien her daughter had taken up with shifted his hand so he could cradle her jaw and gave a tender smile, releasing Jackie in the process.
"It's all right, beloved," he replied. 'We'll get this sorted out and then eat breakfast over the Dragon's Eye Nebula. Okay?"
Rose gave him a tremulous smile and a soft kiss, and that finally pushed Jackie over the edge.
"You're standing there, wearing an engagement ring that I don't know anything about, and you'll 'sort this out'?!" she shrieked, surprising herself with her bitterness. She hadn't known how angry she really was until now. "How dare you not talk to me first, you — you alien!" she demanded at a slightly lower volume, pinning him with a glare that could have stripped paint.
He merely gazed back at her, his expression completely flat, and responded, "Why would I? You made it clear when we — when you found out we were together that you neither like it nor approve, and that doesn't seem to have changed since then."
He squeezed Rose's fingers gently before continuing. "And if I had asked you, Jackie, would you have said 'yes'? Because I don't believe you would have, and then you would have used our engagement against me because I didn't obey your refusal and end things. It's not fair and I'm sorry for Rose's sake, but this is what she wants and, frankly, I'm thrilled that she wants to claim me permanently."
He stopped again, this time to drop a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead, and Jackie sucked in a harsh breath. This was not going at all the way she'd expected, and she genuinely had no idea of how to react. Before she could even try to speak, Rose beat her to it.
"Well, yeah," she drawled, giving him a look laden with meaning that Jackie couldn't decipher. "It'll save me the Lyndas and Jabes and —"
"— and Adams and Jacks and P't'lea'ns," the Time Lord cut in, arching his eyebrows.
Jackie finally found her footing at that.
"So, what, you're some kind of space Casanova?" she demanded, hoping that this might be a chink in his armor. To her chagrin, Rose merely laughed and shook her head.
"Oh, Mum, you have no idea," she said around a giggle, giving her f — the Doctor a smug grin when he blushed and looked down. But he rallied immediately with an affronted, "Oi! Is there a planet we've visited where you haven't found at least one pretty boy?"
They seemed to have forgotten her presence entirely and Jackie swallowed hard (in bitterness and envy) when Rose gave him a pointed once-over and replied, "That depends. Do you count as a pretty boy?"
His yelp of indignation quickly faded into a soft chuckle and he bent his head, clearly intent on kissing Rose. Jackie coughed pointedly, and it was comical how they broke apart so quickly that Rose actually backed into the wall.
Jackie sighed heavily as she looked at them. She had plenty more to say, but what was the point? He didn't give a damn what she thought and Rose was clearly following his lead. Jackie hated everything about this 'relationship' but it wasn't worth alienating her daughter and if she kept pushing this, Rose might stay gone out of spite (Jackie had loved Pete with all her heart, but dear God, his family could win awards for their pettiness, a trait Rose had clearly inherited).
And when the Doctor broke her heart — and he would; it was inevitable — at least Rose would come home. All she could do now was wait and hope this burned itself out quickly, before Rose had given too much of herself away.
"So, how long do I have to plan this wedding?" she asked, forcing a cheerful tone. If nothing else, she could fulfill this dream for her daughter (and herself; she had always wanted to give Rose the wedding she and Pete had been denied).
A long, awkward pause ensued and she focused a glare on them, wordlessly demanding an answer.
"Well?" she snapped after more than a minute of silence.
Rose, who had gone pale, swallowed hard before meeting her mother's eyes.
"Well," she said, coughing a little when her voice went high. "Umm . . . we — we want . . . well . . . "
The Doctor finally couldn't take it anymore and stepped into the fray, a fact Jackie had to reluctantly admire.
"Since I only know a few people in this time period — and Rose is, well, difficult to explain," he began with an uncharacteristic stammer, raking a hand through his hair. "We decided to call a mutual friend to officiate and witness and just have a — a party afterwards."
He wouldn't look at her after he finished speaking, but Jackie was too busy biting back another bout of rage to take satisfaction from it. This alien had enticed her daughter, then stolen a year of her time with Jackie, and now he was taking away the one thing that was still hers? He wasn't going to let her plan her daughter's wedding?!
Rose interrupted her angry musings, but not in the way Jackie had hoped.
"It's what we want, Mum," she said apologetically. "I've never wanted a big wedding, you know that, and while the girls know the Doctor, they don't know about the traveling and whatnot, and that would just be . . . well, like he said, it'd be really hard to explain."
"Of course it would," Jackie said bitterly. "Well, do I at least get to come to this — event?"
They both looked shocked that she would even ask. It was like she hadn't been excluded from every major event in Rose's life since she'd met the Doctor.
"Mum!" Rose exclaimed as her eyes filled with tears and she rushed to hug Jackie. "Of course you'll be there! You're my mum and I love you, and I absolutely want you there," she said, her words muffled in Jackie's shoulder. "That's one of the reasons we stopped by, you know; we need to set a date that works for you."
And Jackie indulged in one more daydream of planning a big, gorgeous wedding that would make the Queen jealous, with a nice, normal man waiting at the altar and her beaming from the front row, with Pete's spirit beside her, so proud of their beautiful daughter.
With a heavy sigh, Jackie let that dream go and went to get a calendar.
And she wondered how many stars she had left until Rose was gone for good.
\*\/*/
Jackie was forced to admit that the ceremony itself had been beautiful, despite the lack of anything related to a wedding except Rose's dress and a truly breathtaking bouquet of presumably-alien flowers (she was actually mistaken about this; each flower was from Earth, albeit from several exotic locations and more than a few different times).
She was resentful about Rose's decision to let Shireen plan and throw the reception . . . but she couldn't entirely blame her. Bev's third wedding reception was a memory that Just. Wouldn't. Die. Unfortunately, neither would the pictures, damn Joetta Darnell to eternity.
Jackie still hated the Doctor for taking Rose away, and not just from her. He'd also stolen Rose away from everything she wanted for her daughter. But even she had seen the love he had for Rose. It had been so strong and so obvious that the three other people who were there (an older military man who had officiated and his wife, and a woman who looked about Jackie's age and been introduced as an old friend of the Doctor's) had actually teared up.
And Rose . . . Rose had simply glowed with happiness.
So much so, in fact, that Jackie had suspected (and desperately hoped) that she would soon have a grandchild to love (and quite possibly raise, because God knew their life wasn't suitable for a child and it was only fair that Jackie should get first time with her grandchild since the Doctor had stolen Rose from her). And so she eagerly searched for signs of pregnancy at each visit.
And each time, she was disappointed.
Finally, after eight months (for her), she had to ask.
However, she had acquired some restraint since the wedding, and so she said nothing until the conversation turned to Keisha's cousin and his new wife, who was now pregnant.
Rose had just commented on the glow that Molly was basking in, so Jackie took the opportunity.
"And what about you, then?" she asked, giving her daughter another once-over in the hope that she'd finally see a sign of pregnancy this time.
"What about me?" Rose repeated, looking confused.
At her side, the Doctor slowly straightened. He gave Jackie a look she couldn't read before fixing his gaze on his wife's face.
His wife.
The reminder made her clench her fists, but the reaction faded quickly. Jackie would never like or approve of this relationship, but the bleedin' alien was her son-in-law now. It was done. But at least she would finally get something she wanted out of it, and her eagerness came across in her answer.
"A baby!" she exclaimed softly, managing (barely) to stop herself from bouncing in her chair and finding herself surprised at just how much she was looking forward to this. "When am I getting a baby to cuddle and spoil and call me 'Gran'?"
Rose said nothing for an endless moment before replying with a simple, "Never."
She'd said this before, so Jackie was half-expecting the response. It still irritated her, because she knew that if Rose would just settle down with a nice, normal, human man, she would start to want a family and finally give Jackie the grandchild her heart so desperately yearned for.
Of course, she wasn't going to find a nice, normal, human man any time soon and was, in fact, now 'Mrs John 'The Doctor' Tyler', so any child she had would only be half-human. Which, did she really want a half-alien grandbaby? Well . . . no, but this was the path Rose had chosen, so if that was the only way Jackie would get grandchildren, so be it.
The Doctor, however, had to be made to understand that Jackie wasn't going to let him refuse to give Rose children (and destroy her last dream for her daughter). She met his eyes, determined to win this, but her words died unspoken at the compassion she saw in that timeless gaze.
After a few seconds, he blinked and relinquished her eyes, shifting closer to Rose and curling his fingers around hers as he gave her a tender look she missed, because her eyes were fixed on her mother.
Jackie swallowed. There was something . . . unnerving about that look. It was steady, intense, and assessing. Like a wolf was watching her.
Then Rose blinked and shattered the illusion.
"This is the last time we're talking about this," she stated, sitting straighter on the couch but not moving her eyes from her mother — and not letting the Doctor go. "Neither of us want kids, Mum, and that's the end of it. We've made sure it can't happen by accident a—NO," she said sharply, interrupting Jackie's instinctive objection. "This is our life and our decision, not yours," she continued hotly. "And it is our decision. We've talked about it several times and, individually and as a couple, children are simply not something we want."
She took a quick breath and squeezed the Doctor's hand before speaking again. "I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's the choice we've made. And that's it," she finished, holding her mother's eyes. "This subject won't come up again, Mum. You don't —" Rose paused and licked her lips nervously before continuing, "you don't have to like it, and I know you don't."
This did not sit well with Jackie, who had never really believed that Rose didn't want kids. She'd felt that way until she and Pete found out they were pregnant, so it just stood to reason that Rose would be the same. But before she could say any of this (again), Rose just — cut her off at the knees.
"And I love you, Mum, but you don't have a say in this," she finished in a voice that was slightly shaky, but also resolute, her fingers tightening around the Doctor's.
Jackie started to protest, but found herself unable to when the Doctor turned a dark look on her, his earlier compassion vanished in the wake of protecting Rose, who curled into him without so much as a hint of hesitation or shyness. And she knew that her baby was gone forever. The Doctor had finally taken Rose away from her, just as she'd feared all those months ago.
One star at a time.
\*\/*/
After they had miraculously survived Canary Wharf, and Rose had been able to give her family a heartrending farewell, complete with bittersweet joy at the news of Jackie's pregnancy, and after Donna had returned home to try to pick up the shattered pieces of her life, Rose and the Doctor were sitting at the open TARDIS doors, legs dangling as they looked at the breathtaking beauty of the Rose Nebula.
They sat in silence, fingers twined together and her head resting against his shoulder. Finally, when Rose felt she could speak without tears, she quietly asked the Doctor to show her where Earth was.
As always, he did, and then he drew her attention to a star next to her home planet, where they had fomented their first revolution.
And then the star that was Woman Wept.
And then the first time Rose had rallied the citizens on her own and then broken him out of a rigged 'trial', burning the courthouse down behind them because she'd found (and used) one of Ace's explosives.
And then their first official prison breakout, complete with bent iron bars, climbing down knotted bedsheets, and Jailhouse Rock playing in the background, because Elvis truly was a universal thing.
Softly, lovingly, and with breathtaking pride, the Doctor walked her through their story.
One star at a time.
~~~
fin