CALLUSES
X.
As the Doctor's companion, you have no other choice but to quickly learn to read each other's body language. When your daily routine involves regularly getting 'almost killed by aliens' because of some misinterpreted body language indeed, it becomes a survival skill more than a social construct.
It's been thrilling to Rose, how fast it's all come back to her, even after years apart.
She's quickly absorbed the changes that came with him now being part-human (with a definite heritage from Chiswick), just like she once adapted to him going from being a gruff, taciturn war veteran, to being a jolly, overexcited puppy.
Even now, she sees all of these men in him; she also sees things in novel ways, as only a lover can.
And what Rose notices today is that, for a centuries-long traveller, the Doctor is not exactly at ease in an airport.
He tries to conceal it, of course, the way he always does, but he can't fool her, his mild anxiety at doing something as mundane as taking a plane presenting itself in a variety of ways.
He's in turn over-enthusiastic over the most random of things ("Oooooh, a moving walkway, Rose! How brilliant! Let's race!") just as he can become sulky and mute, the way he was during that brief time they spent onto a small bus, while being transferred from one terminal to the other.
When she'd tilted her head in question, all he'd said was: "Not too fond of buses at the moment. Got into a bit of a tight spot the last time I was in one of those." He didn't expend on it, and she didn't press on; he'll share this particular story with her when he's ready.
And if that time never comes, that's alright, too.
His mood changes again once she buys him a chocolate croissant ("Oh! We should go to France, next! Find out if French people in this universe also started putting lights all over their Eiffel Tower. French people. So imaginative, and yet, so inexplicably bizarre.")
After finishing his snack, he feels well enough to try and indulge into a bit of cuddling, right there in the middle of Terminal 3.
Rose, who's been busy looking up at a screen, trying to figure out which area of this building they're supposed to be in, is only mildly distracted by the feel of his body pressing up against her back, his arms sneaking around her. It becomes harder to ignore him when his mouth finds the curve of her neck, and he nibbles at her skin, causing her the shiver so strongly that she nothing short of quivers in his arms.
Her initial reaction is to let out a sound she's been making more and more often these past few days, something between a giggle and a purr – nothing really dignified, unable not to instinctively lean back against him and tilt her head a little to allow him more access…until her eyes catch the gaze of an airport employee, further in the distance, whose deep frown indicates instant disapproval.
She wriggles out of his embrace – well, tries to, only managing to turn herself around, his arms tight around her. He's looking down at her with that…look. All solemn and unsmiling, staring at her as if she was something delicious he just had to put in his mouth.
"Hey, no, stop that," she reprimands him, pushing against his chest, although she's not putting any force into it. "I know we managed to get away with all that, back at the hotel, but we can't do it here. It's a major airport, and people are – "
"Sourpusses?"
" – no, they're not sourpusses, they're – "
"Sexually frustrated and wishing they could be doing what we're doing?"
" – no, they're…oh, will you stop?" She shoves his shoulder light-heartedly. "We just can't do these things in such a public place, is all. It's even worse than at the mall."
"You're the one who decided we should give up the room and forced me to get dressed. Again."
"You can't get onto a plane naked, they wouldn't let you in."
He pouts.
She rolls her eyes. "You have to keep your hands – and lips – to yourself, until we get to somewhere private." Already imagining all the suggestions he's about to come up with, she adds: "Somewhere I decide is private."
He sighs, looking every bit the way her brother does when he's been denied another biscuit. "It's not fair," he sounds like it, too. "I love you. I should be allowed to touch you."
Oh, he's making this very difficult.
But someone has to be the adult, here.
She cups his cheeks. "And I love you. But I'm going to make it all the way to London without getting us in trouble for inappropriate touching. And if I can manage it, being one-hundred-percent randy human, so can you."
He seems to debate whether or not to argue her point, before sighing again, with a defeated tilt of his head. "Fine. All touching shall remain appropriate, until otherwise authorised by Rose Tyler."
Unable not to, she pushes herself on the tip of her toes and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you."
She pulls back, noting the small pout on his lips. When she offers him her hand, however, he takes it at once, following her as she leads them through the crowded airport, eventually stopping in front of one of those self-service stations that will let them check their suitcase in without having to interact with anyone.
They've avoided talking to any official employee so far; he doesn't have any form of identification, and psychic paper or not, the less opportunities they create that might arise suspicion, the better, Pete having already bought the tickets for them, both electronically sent to her phone.
"I hate those things," Rose sighs, frowning at the screen and the different options offered to her. "How they manage to make this so complicated, I just don't know."
"It can't possibly be that bad," the Doctor comments as he bends down, already getting his glasses out, unable not to sound slightly condescending. He's casually pinned himself to her side, although true to his words, he's keeping his hands to himself.
She's soon distracted by her phone, vibrating in her pocket. "You know what?" She says as she pulls it out and looks at the name on display. "Be my guest. Just…don't send it to Australia or som'thing, yeah?" Not that it matters much, they don't exactly have anything of value in that case.
"Hey, Mum," she greets her mother, walking away from him and the machine.
"You sound better," her mum says at once.
How she managed to decipher her state of wellbeing within those two words is beyond Rose.
"I feel better," Rose admits, forcing herself to keep her gaze resolutely away from the man standing a few steps behind her. "Actually being able to sleep and not repeatedly jump between realities helped a lot."
"Oh, is that what you've been doin', now? 'Sleeping'? All on your own, too, isn't that right?"
Rose sighs loudly, with an aggravated grimace her mother cannot see. "Mum."
"Sweetheart, you've jumped across realities for that man, I'm not about to give you a lecture. All I'm sayin' is, me and your dad are grown adults with a three-year-old drivin' us nutters. We figured you two weren't stayin' all these extra days in Norway because you felt like sightseein'."
There really is nothing Rose can say to that. The only thing resembling sightseeing they have done were those thirty minutes they'd spent outside, the previous afternoon…which only led to quite a few more hours spent in bed.
Rose has to turn around and look at him, incapable not to seek him as the memory of how they'd chased the chill of the rain away rushes through her in hazy flashes and burst of phantom sensations, and she smiles at the sight before her.
He's grabbed the machine with both his hands, awkwardly bent over it, his face scrunched up in utter confusion only inches from the screen, not unlike the way he would have been if the TARDIS had given him some abnormal readings, his spectacles having slid down precariously close to the tip of his nose.
"You two are all right, then?"
Rose cannot even fully refocus on her mum. "Yeah," she says softly. "We're good."
"Want us to pick you up from the airport?"
"I'd rather not, if that's ok. He's a bit…intense, right now. I think it's starting to hit him, the whole 'I'm stuck here, living a tiny, ordinary human life' thing. I don't think overwhelming him with a full Tyler household on his very first evening back in London's gonna help."
"Fair enough," Jackie says. "Well, you just let me know, and we will –"
"Sorry, Mum, gotta go," Rose cuts her off abruptly, watching as the Doctor roams the different pockets of his jeans with another familiar look on his face.
Hanging up her phone, Rose swiftly joins him, grabbing at his wrist just as he's about to set off his screwdriver. He looks at her with slightly magnified eyes, his scowl deep and beautiful, his jaw set in aggravation.
"How about we don't use the sonic on an harmless airport device," she tells him with her sweetest smile, gently patting his hand until he slowly lowers it. "Let me take a look, yeah? I'm sure if we put both our brains onto it, we can vanquish it without alien technology."
When he simply carries on scowling like she's put something quite pungent under his nose, being uncharacteristically quiet, she drops the sweet smile, telling him more quietly: "It's good practice, doing things the regular way. It is slower and maddening at times, so you're allowed to get frustrated, but…you're the most brilliant man I know. You'll figure this out."
She's not really talking about the self-service machine anymore, and from the way his face slowly begins to relax into a softer expression, he's understood that much.
He confirms it a moment later when he briefly cups her cheek with his free hand, pressing a lingering kiss upon her forehead, hearing his silent thank you against her skin. When he pulls away, she responds with a smile of her own, bringing her fingers to his face to push his glasses more securely up his nose, before they both turn to face the wicked machine again.
In the end, once they put both their brains onto it indeed, they manage to get their case checked-in in less than two minutes, fist-bumping each other in victory when the sticky strip finally comes out. Another minute, and they're watching their case being swallowed up at the end of a carrier belt.
They eventually turn around, facing the crowded terminal, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder.
"So," he eventually speaks, and she looks up at him, just in time to see him take off his glasses, hooking them on the collar of his jumper. "Where to next?"
His voice is brisker than his usual tone; he's not quite looking at her either, his eyes darting from people to people, seeing yet unseeing. She watches the small muscle that twitches in his cheek, notes the slight hunch of his shoulders, feels how rigid his fingers are against hers.
She didn't lie to her mum. It truly seems to be downing on him, now, the realisation that this is it: the slow path. Until he finds a way to grow his own TARDIS from the piece given to him, he's got no other choice but to do this the way everybody does it.
One slow step at a time.
Maybe it should worry her, his apprehension and these fluctuating moods of his, as he begins adapting to this…human condition.
But all Rose feels is a deep sense of peace.
Where to next?
More slowly than necessary, leaning heavily against his side as she does so, she raises her free hand, pointing to the other side of the terminal. "That way," she says. "No, hold on," she moves her pointing finger, indicating an opposite area. "That way."
She senses the exact moment it clicks in his mind, the memory of that night so long ago, when they'd looked up at the sky, and he'd pointed at the stars and the universe beyond.
The Doctor looks down at her, and she suspects that the emotion now crossing his face is quite similar to the one squeezing her heart and lungs. Without leaving her gaze, not even blinking anymore, he half-raises his hand, pointing in the same direction. "That way?"
She goes off-script, then, gently grabbing his raised fingers in hers as she turns to face him. "Actually," she says softly, bringing their joined hands to his chest, "let's go that way." And she presses her palm upon his heart, enclosing the whole of him, and her, and the vast infinity of life left for them to explore.
Together.
And Rose sees it all in his eyes as he leans down. She feels it in his touch when he presses a soft, reverent kiss to her lips, resting his forehead against hers, before going quite still, except for the way his fingers curl around hers upon his beating heart.
Above all, she hears it in his voice, quiet yet alive, bursting with hope and love and possibilities, the words soon whispered against warm skin.
"Allons-y."
FIN
A/N: Once again, you can find me on AO3 or whofic ;)