July 20, 1969
Rose woke up that Saturday to a bedroom filled with sunlight. Summer in London was bright and warm, and she smiled at the thought of getting to enjoy the weekend.
She took a long shower and got dressed in her room, doing her hair and makeup. It was rare for her to go so long without the Doctor yelling for her - he always insisted on seeing her as soon as she awoke - and she thought that was strange. She could hear voices in the flat. Not that she minded having a long stretch of time to herself. She found out what was going on when she finally left her room. Billy and the Doctor were seated in front of the television, avidly taking in the coverage of the upcoming moon landing.
"Haven't you had enough of that already?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"No," Billy answered without looking away from the screen. "This is history in the making!"
Rose agreed, of course, but she found the coverage to be overwhelming at times. When she found herself watching Ian McKellan and Judi Dench reciting poetry and quotes about the moon, she'd decided she'd had enough for a while.
"It's been quite the experience," the Doctor added, glancing up at Rose as she came over to stand beside them. "I was just telling Billy that we have the Pink Floyd song iMoonhead/i to look forward to. It's never been officially released, you know."
Rose smirked. "Goodness, how exciting! Are you two gonna sit there all day?" From the look of the room, they'd been up early and had already had breakfast and several snacks. She'd have to bring the hoover in to remind them to clean up.
"Not all day." Billy spoke absently, his attention on the screen. Clearly the two of them weren't going anywhere.
"Well, I have things to do this morning," Rose said firmly.
"We understand." The Doctor took a huge swallow from his own up of tea before glancing up. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about us."
"I wasn't," she assured him. "See you later."
She didn't leave right away. There was her room to straighten, the bathroom to tidy up, and her clothes to clean. She put a load of laundry in the small washer in the kitchen. It was painfully slow but at least it got her things clean. Rose ignored the small baskets that contained the Doctor's and Billy's things. They could do their own laundry.
She left the kitchen the way it was, with tea bags strewn on the sink and bread and butter on the table. She hadn't made the mess, so why should she clean it up? Really, sometimes she could see why her old Doctor had been so adamantly against domestic life. Day in, day out like this it could get tedious.
But only if she let it. It was a gorgeous summer day, and Rose left the flat in high spirits. The sun was shining and people just seemed happier. If the two men in her life wanted to sit inside and stare at moon landing coverage, they were welcome to it.
"I'm going!" she called, and was gone before they could stop her. She ran down the steps, already anticipating the warmth of the morning. As she opened the door to step outside, the postman grabbed the door to come inside.
"Whoops!" Rose stepped aside. "Good morning, Joe."
"Morning, Rose!" Joe grinned at her. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"
"It is. Where've you been?" Rose asked. "I haven't seen you all week."
"Went on holiday! Just me and the missus. Haven't been anywhere since we were married."
"Did you have a good time?"
"Oh, the best! Wish I had time for more than one week, but there's the bills to pay. Let me get your post for you." Joe began rifling through a sheaf of envelopes in his hand. "I want to finish up in good time today. Got that moon landing to watch."
"Oh, I can't wait," Rose said. "Should be exciting."
"Here you are." Joe handed over her post. "Very exciting! Enjoy your Saturday."
"Bye!"
As she walked down the street Rose was reminded once again of just how eclectic the fashion of this time period was. Bell-bottomed jeans and tie-dyed shirts, long hair and beards that really needed to be trimmed, ratty sandals and trainers could be seen all over the place. But there were also people still dressing in suits and two-pieces, with proper shoes and hats. Rose found it amazing that there could be such a difference in the way people dressed.
It reminded her of Iris, who always wore matching shoes and tights with her proper, modest dresses and skirts. Rose liked Iris very much, but sometimes she absolutely yearned to force her into something more trendy and suitable for her age.
Rose was busily composing several new outfits for her coworker when a car horn interrupted her thoughts. Breaking free of images of micro-minis and white, knee-high, patent leather boots, Rose looked around. A taxi was parked by the street. The driver leaned over and waved.
"Hullo, Rose Tyler! Can I give you a ride anywhere?"
She peered into the car. She didn't recognize the driver, but he wore a hoop earring and had a stuffed parrot perched on the dashboard. She smiled.
"You a Corubulan driver, by any chance?"
"Would any other cab driver know who you are?"
"Fair enough." Rose opened the back door and settled in. "Thanks for stopping."
"Of course!" He tapped the visor above his head, and Rose looked up to see a snap of her and the Doctor stuck there. "We still have a standing order for you two. We won't forget what you did for us?"
"Well, thanks." Rose felt a bit awkward accepting thanks for something that the Doctor deserved most of the credit for, but she certainly wasn't going to turn down a free ride. "So, what's your name?"
"You can call me Alan." He pulled back into the traffic. "My real name doesn't exactly translate into English."
Without the TARDIS Rose didn't understand foreign languages, something brought home to her frequently when she encountered tourists from France, Italy and other places. She hadn't realized how much she would miss understanding anyone who spoke to her. It was a far cry form her shock and disbelief at first learning that the mysterious Doctor's time traveling machine had gotten into her head without asking.
Of course, the fact that she'd been about to watch the demise of Earth may have had something to do with her feelings at the time.
"You're speaking English now, though, aren't you?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Of course." Alan slowed down for a stoplight. "We all learned English before we came down. Seemed the polite thing to do. Now. Where can I take you, Rose Tyler? You off to do the weekly shopping?"
"Actually," Rose said slowly, "I need to go somewhere a bit further out from here."
It had taken her some time with a phone directory to figure out where to go. She'd been uncertain of the exact location, and indeed, she still wasn't certain if she was going to the right place. But she had to try.
"Here it is." Alan started to slow down as he pulled up to a row of houses, but Rose shook her head.
"Could you go a little farther down and let me out? I'm going to walk around a bit, first."
"Anything for you." Alan found a spot to park the car and watched as Rose got out. "I'll wait for you, eh?"
"Yes, please. Thanks!"
He pulled out a newspaper. "Take your time."
Rose hitched her handbag onto her shoulder and started slowly down the street, eyeing the numbers on the houses. She had not seen these houses since she was very small, and she couldn't be sure that she was in the right neighborhood, let alone the right street.
A few people were outside, women in housecoats sweeping the walk, men standing around in small groups, smoking. Rose ignored them all and pretended to just be walking down the street on the way to someplace else. When she reached number twenty-five, she slowed down just a bit.
As she wondered what to do now, the front door opened, and a tall man with sandy hair stepped out. Rose caught her breath. She had never met this man, but she had seen his photograph many times.
Following on the man's heels was a small boy with lighter hair, and Rose took a hasty step back, suddenly afraid of what might happen if they saw her.
"Wait for me!" the boy cried, and the man turned around and grinned.
"You want to come along? Hurry up, then, Petey!"
Rose had looked in on the child who would grow up to be her mother a few times now, taking care to never be noticed. Until today she hadn't had the nerve to go looking for her father. Her knowledge of her dad's family wasn't very good - she knew much more about her mum's family because she'd grown up with them. Pete's parents had died before his marriage to Jackie, and Rose had only seen photos of them.
She watched her grandfather - his name was Reggie - stride off down the street. Petey ran after him, catching up in time to grab his father's hand and laugh.
Rose watched them walk away. Were they going to the shops? To the park? Were they thinking about the fact that this was a beautiful day they would never get back?
In less than ten years Reggie would be dead, and Pete in less than twenty. Rose was beginning to understand why the Doctor found it so hard to stay in one place for long. Stay too long and you had to watch people you cared about begin to wither and die.
Rose finished brushing her hair and examined her reflection carefully. Her blouse was gauzy white and embroidered with flowers along the low, square neckline. Her brown trousers had matching embroidery on the back pockets. She looked pretty cute, she had to admit. Maybe not as cute as she'd look if she were wearing something from her actual, modern-time wardrobe, but some of these old fashions were really starting to grow on her.
"Rose!" the Doctor bellowed from the front of the flat. "Are you ready or not? Let's go!"
For someone who continued to insist that he absolutely did not do domestic, he was certainly sounding like it. "Coming!" she called, rolling her eyes as she applied some last-minute lipstick. "Men. Can't stand to wait a minute."
When she emerged from the bath she found the Doctor and Billy standing by the door, looking at her accusingly.
"Do you have the food?" she asked, taking the higher ground by not addressing their pouts.
"Yes, we have the nibbles," the Doctor said impatiently. "Come on, then! History in the making!"
"Did you have to wear the suit?" she couldn't help asking. They'd been over and over this loads of times, but he refused to admit that a prolonged stay here in 1969 would wear out the fabric on his beloved suit. So far his loving attentions with the sonic screwdriver had kept it in tip-top shape, but she feared it was only a matter of time before the threads began to break down.
"It's an important occasion," he informed her as he opened the door. "It warrants the suit."
"You look very nice tonight," Billy offered as he took up the rear and closed the door behind them.
"Thanks," Rose and the Doctor answered together. The Doctor looked behind him. Billy was clearly speaking to Rose, and only to Rose. He frowned and moved back to take Rose's hand.
"Here we go, then," he said, giving Billy a stern look.
Billy smirked.
Jeff's flat was just a floor away. Within a few feet of the door they could hear the sound of people talking and laughing. It was indeed a historic event for the world, and London was doing its part to celebrate it.
Jeff swung the door open at Rose's knock. How he managed to hear it she couldn't figure out, since the front room was jammed with people.
"Welcome!" Jeff said cheerfully. "Come on in!"
"We brought some food." Billy handed him the tray. "It's chicken satay sticks with peanut sauce."
Jeff stared at the tray and then at Billy for a long moment, clearly working out what he should say. "Sounds delicious," he finally said. "Can't wait to try it! Come on in." He moved to set the tray down in his kitchen, where they would be overlooked in favor of opened packets of crisps and bowls of peanuts.
"I told you he wouldn't know what they were," the Doctor murmured to Billy.
"I can try," Billy said with a stubborn look that the Doctor was getting to know very well.
"Have a seat!" Jeff waved an arm at the room. People were sitting and standing around, all talking and looking as wide awake as if it wasn't nearly midnight on July 20, 1969. In the center of the room Jeff's television was turned to BBC1, which was broadcasting the moon landing in its entirety and would actually be broadcasting all night for the first time.
"My set's a color one," Jeff said, "but this will have to be in black and white. Too bad we couldn't see it all in color! I have beer and Cokes in the kitchen, and the kettle's on for tea if you want." Jeff glanced at a clock on the wall. "Have fun!"
"Why are we watching in black and white if his tv is a color set?" Billy asked in a low voice.
"BBC1 won't have color broadcasting until later this year," answered Rose, who'd heard more about the subject than she'd cared to in the past few weeks.
The Doctor smiled at her approvingly. "You've been listening!"
"Well, yeah." She blushed under his gaze, and Billy rolled his eyes and headed for the food.
The kitchen was packed with people, and he had to muscle his way to the table. Surveying the offerings of crisps, sausages and random fruit, he felt a wave of nostalgia for his mum's party food. Without even closing his eyes he could perfectly envision the pristine lace tablecloth she spread over her table, and the shining silver trays of food she would set out before a party. Vol-au-vents, cheese puffs, delicate pastries and fragile cups of tea. He felt a wave of longing for his mother, for his life, and wanted very badly to return to it.
After a moment the feelings faded. They didn't pass completely, but they faded away to the point where he could function without yelling his head off like a lunatic, which is what he'd wanted to do the first few days in this time and place. Billy reached over and grabbed one of his chicken satay sticks, plunking it on a plate and then reaching for the peanut sauce.
"What is that?" a voice asked curiously.
Billy looked around. Beside him a young woman with dark blonde hair was staring at his plate in fascination. She was close enough that Billy could make out the freckles on her nose. When she raised her eyes to his he saw that they were blue. Her lashes were only slightly darker than her hair, and unlike most of the women he'd met so far in 1969, she had not caked her face in makeup.
"It's a chicken satay stick," Billy explained. "Just chicken on a stick, really."
"And that stuff?" She nodded to the sauce.
"Peanut sauce."
She wrinkled her nose. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," Billy said, offended now. "Seriously."
"I knew Jeff was odd, but I didn't think it extended to his food." She smiled wryly and then held out her hand. "I'm Sarah."
He had to set the sauce down and shift the plate to shake it. "Billy. You a friend of Jeff's?"
"Not really. I came with a friend. You?"
"I live downstairs right now with some mates. He invited us over."
Sarah reached for a handful of crisps. "Well, have fun."
"Do you want to try one?" Billy asked impulsively. He held out his plate. "Take a bite. Go on." When she didn't move he added, "I dare you."
She picked up the stick, her expression daring him to say anything. She cautiously took a bite.
"That's not bad."
"Try the sauce," he urged, like he was an anxious mother trying to feed a picky eater.
Sarah dipped the chicken in the peanut sauce, and her eyes lit up when she tasted it. "That's delicious!"
Billy glowed with pleasure. "Thanks."
"You made it?" she asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought a bloke would be any good in the kitchen."
"Not all blokes," he corrected her. "Just very, very good blokes."
She gave him a slow smiled before setting the chicken on his plate and stepping away. "I'll remember that."
He was still staring off into space when Rose tugged on his sleeve. "What are you doing in here? You've been gone for over half an hour."
Billy blinked himself out of his reverie. "Just menu planning."
"Well, I'm not objecting to that," she said humorously. "You're too good a cook. Come on, the broadcast is getting good."
"I'm coming." Billy followed her out, but not before loading more food onto his plate.
"I just don't believe that Isaac would leave town like that," a man was saying as Rose walked by. "He wouldn't leave all his things behind."
Rose glanced around. Jeff was standing with a small group of men, most of whom were frowning. The one talking had a stubborn look on his face.
"He worked too hard to get where he is to just walk away," he continued. "And he wouldn't leave without saying anything to me - I'm the only family he had."
Rose stopped to listen, causing Billy to almost smash his plate against her back.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Shh!"
Rose listened long enough to learn that the man talking and Isaac had grown up in a children's home together and were both orphans. She would have liked to ask more questions, but Billy, exasperated by her actions, took her arm and gently pushed her back to the Doctor.
"I was learning something!" she protested irritably.
"What? How to be an eavesdropper?"
"There's something weird about how our neighbor vanished! You're a cop - don't you care?"
Billy sighed. "I'm not a cop anymore, am I?"
The Doctor tore himself away from the television coverage. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Rose?"
"Rose is playing private investigator," Billy said.
"What's the story now, Lewis?" the Doctor couldn't help asking, and Rose glared at both of them.
"I'm going to get a drink."
"Nothing for me, thanks," called the Doctor.
Rose went looking for the man who was worried about Isaac, but he had moved and the flat was crammed with people. Giving up, she snagged two bottles of Coke from the kitchen and headed back where the Doctor was engrossed in television coverage that he surely must have seen before.
The BBC had built a set just for the moon landing coverage. The news anchors were seated behind a long, angled desk. Behind the desk hung large models of the Earth and the moon, and there was a large picture of a rocket against a dark background that the BBC clearly was hoping looked like outer space but to Rose looked only a bit odd and out of place. In front of the desk was a digital clock that had counted the time down to lift-off and other aspects of the space journey.
The news anchors, James Burke, Cliff Michelmore and Patrick Moore, were all looking excited, having finally reached the most exciting part of the news coverage.
"They can barely contain themselves," the Doctor commented to Rose as she sat beside him on a tiny sofa. "Just look at James Burke! Soon he'll be jumping up and down."
"Well, they've had over a week to get to this point. I'm excited, too." She snuggled in close beside him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Billy sat in an empty chair a few feet away, balancing his plate. Rose wished she had thought to grab some snacks, but she was too comfortable with the Doctor's arm around her to want to move.
"I'm just relieved he's not wearing that astronaut suit anymore," the Doctor admitted, taking a Coke from Rose. "That just smacked of trying too hard, didn't it?"
"Nothing's happening yet!" someone yelled from the depths of another room. "Let's play a game!"
Clearly there was too much alcohol involved, the Doctor reflected some time later. How else to explain how a group of otherwise reasonable adults ended up creating their own Martian costumes? How else to explain how he ended up wearing one of them?
"Man, what I wouldn't do for a camera right now," Billy smirked.
The Doctor swiped at his head, where a lampshade festooned with knotted dishtowels rested. "This is the most ridiculous moon-landing party ever. The Queen's coronation was much more subdued."
"Yeah, but not as fun," Rose reminded him.
"You're not the one wearing a costume!"
Eventually the alcohol wore off, and as the time drew nearer to the actual moon landing, people were drawn back to the television set.
Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon for the first time at 3:56 am. As he started taking steps the room exploded into cheers, applause, and excited chatter.
The images were very familiar to Rose, as were Armstrong's famous first words on the moon. She looked around the room. Everyone's attention was focused on the television. Even Billy's attention was totally taken up by what was happening on the television. The Doctor glanced her way and grinned, and she grinned back, two people sharing an incredible secret. She knew now why the Doctor loved to travel, knew now how it felt. He had been to an event and seen it happen, and now he got to experience it through the eyes of others, and she got to experience it, too.
He reached over and took her hand, gently drawing her closer to him.
"Do you see?" he murmured in her ear. "Do you see why I love it?"
His breath caressed her cheek and made little shivers dance down her spine. Her eyes drifted shut.
"I do," she whispered back.
He moved in closer, and as she opened her eyes again and turned her head, he leaned down and kissed her. All around them were the excited sounds of history in the making. Rose shifted to face him as his hands slid into her hair and kissed him back.
"Do you see?" he whispered again. "Can you see how much -"
She should have waited to hear what he was going to say. In the morning she would surely kick herself for not doing so. But she only smiled and kissed him back.