Chapter 28: With Our Arms Around Each Other
After supper, Rose let John change into his best suit first, then made him wait in the lounge while she dressed. "I want you to get the full effect the first time you see the dress," she told him while she tied his bow tie.
His left eyebrow arched up almost to his hairline. "This dress is sounding more and more impressive."
Rose winked at him. "You'll just have to wait and see."
Alone in their room, she quickly shed her day dress—for the second time that afternoon, she thought, a blush staining her cheeks—and slipped into the formal gown. She'd fallen in love with it the moment she saw it. The short-sleeved bodice and underskirt were made of a rose-coloured silk, but the real eye-catching part of the dress was the butter yellow overskirt. It split over the left leg, allowing the rose colour to peek through. A silk flower at the waist in a darker shade of rose hid were the two sides of the overskirt met. The skirts pooled around her feet in the current fashion, and she practiced walking in them so she wouldn't trip on her face on the dance floor.
Once dressed, she examined her reflection in the mirror, debating on the hairstyle. She'd left it down during dinner, and it had settled around her shoulders in loose curls. Finally, she pulled it up in a series of twists that left some of the shorter curls loose around her face, and gave the appearance of a crown. Shoes on and handbag gathered, she opened the door as silently as possible, hoping to surprise John when she walked into the room.
He was facing the window when she tiptoed into the room, and she took a moment to admire the way his suit jacket emphasised his broad shoulders.
John caught her reflection in the glass and turned around. "Blimey," he gasped. "You look beautiful."
Considering I'm human, her brain added, but she pushed the strange thought aside and smiled at him. "You like it then?" she asked, tracing a finger over the pattern on the overskirt.
He walked towards her slowly, then took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I think, Mrs. Tyler, that I will be dancing with the loveliest woman in the room."
Rose straightened his bowtie. "We'll be the most attractive couple then, because there's no way any of the other men will be half as handsome as you are."
John gave her a quick kiss, then stepped back. "Let me get your wrap," he offered, taking the folded shawl from the back of the chair. His fingers brushed the back of her neck when he draped it over her shoulders, and she shivered.
A moment later, he was at her side, holding his arm out. "Shall we?"
The gesture reminded Rose of the early days of their courtship, when he'd been so determined to be the perfect suitor. Some of the things he'd done had been a bit over the top, but she'd loved the fact that he was so anxious to please.
Hopefully tonight he won't feel like he needs to refrain from kissing me, though.
oOoOoOoOo
It was dark outside when Martha returned to the school, empty-handed. After a search of the cottage hadn't turned up the watches, she'd gone to the TARDIS, hoping against hope that she'd taken them there and forgotten about it somehow.
She raced up the back staircase, brushing past other servants who were finishing up giving the professors their tea and getting ready for their own early dinner. Maybe I took them to my room?
Her head was buried in the wardrobe when the door opened. "Hi, Jenny," she said absently. When her friend didn't respond, she looked over her shoulder to see if maybe someone else was coming into their room.
Jenny stood in the doorway, staring at her strangely. After a moment, she sniffed deeply, as if she were trying to catch the scent of something.
Martha froze for a bare second, then she forced herself to act like nothing was wrong. "Are you all right?" she asked. Carefully, she slid the sonic screwdriver out from under a stack of jumpers and slipped it into the pocket of her apron.
"I must have a cold coming on." Jenny finally moved and sat down at the small table.
"That's too bad," Martha said as she eased her way towards the door. "I'll just let you rest, shall I?"
"How did you come to work for the Tylers?" Jenny asked before Martha could slip out.
Martha faked a smile. "They were visiting the place I worked before," she said. "There was an accident there, and the three of us, we worked together to help as many people as possible. They hired me on the spot."
"You said you're leaving soon, to go travelling. Are the Tylers going with you?"
"Listen, Jenny, if you're not feeling well, I should really leave you alone," Martha insisted. "I'll tell you all about the Tylers later, if you like." She stepped out of the room before Jenny could argue. After closing the door quietly, she took a few steps, then ran for the stairs and down to the courtyard.
Get the watches, her mind screamed at her.
An energy bolt struck the flagstones by Martha's feet as she dashed into the professors' wing of the building, and her heart raced even faster. She took the stairs two at a time, not caring what she looked like, a maid running up the stairs.
She burst into the Doctor's study and flipped the light on. This afternoon when she'd looked for the watches, she'd been careful to leave the study fairly undisturbed, but now she threw things on the floor, driven by the awareness that the Family had found them.
Her second search didn't fare any better than the first, and in lieu of the watches, her next best option was to keep the Doctor and Rose as safe as possible.
She ran out of the study and down the stairs, running into Timothy Latimer on her way out of the building. "Oh, sorry!" she said hurriedly.
"Martha?"
She looked at him over her shoulder as she kept on running. "Not now, Tim. Busy!"
The cottage was dark when she arrived, panting, on the doorstep. The village dance! Martha cursed and caught her breath before taking off again. The Doctor and Rose were in the assembly room, with all those people—people who would be in danger if the Family went after them there. Martha turned on her heel and ran for the road into town.
oOoOoOoOo
John could hardly conceive of a more perfect evening. He was walking arm in arm with the woman he adored, who inexplicably loved him in return. They would spend the night dancing in each other's arms, simply happy to be together.
"Have you given anymore thought to what you'd like to do for the Christmas holidays?" Rose asked as they neared the village.
The loss of Rose's mother earlier in the year had left them without any family, so this was a conversation that had come up now and again over the last few months. "I thought maybe we could travel," John suggested this time. "I know Christmas is supposed to be a time to be at home, but…"
"Where would you like to go?"
"Barcelona," he said automatically. But strangely, the picture that came to him was not of the beautiful Catalan city, but a tropical paradise and a room with a breathtaking view of the sea.
Rose hummed her agreement. "Is it even possible to book a trip like that at such a late date?"
"If you like the idea, I'll start looking into it next week," he promised her.
Outside the village hall, an older man held a tin cup. "Spare a penny for the veterans of the Crimea, sir?"
"Yes, of course." John reached into his pocket and dropped the coins he found in the cup. "There you are."
The dancing looked to be starting soon, so they quickly set their personal belongings down at a table and took to the floor, just as the master of ceremonies said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please take your partners for a waltz."
John led Rose around the floor, loving the effortless way she moved. She smiled up at him, the beautiful, teasing smile that meant she had something up her sleeve.
"Do you remember how you asked me to dance, the very first time?" she asked in answer to his raised eyebrow.
He groaned, and a flush crept up the back of his neck. "That was not one of my better moments."
"I don't know," she drawled. "When the gorgeous man who's just saved your entire neighbourhood walks up to you, holds out his hand, asks you to dance, and then adds, 'I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast,' it makes an impression."
Even two years later, John couldn't fathom what had made him say something so audacious. "I suppose you did agree to dance with me, even after that ridiculous comment."
Rose's fingers played with the hair curling at the nape of his neck. "Well, to be honest, I'd been watching you for a while, hoping you might say something."
John nearly stopped in the middle of the dance floor. "You what?" he said, his voice embarrassingly close to a squeak.
The natural pink in her cheeks deepened a little. "Yeah… I don't know if you remember, but I was there that day—the day of the accident at the factory. I watched you and Captain Jack get everyone out before the fumes were too dangerous, and then take the chemicals into that abandoned hospital. We could hear the explosion where we waited, down by the river, and until the two of you showed up, we didn't know if you were safe. You were… incredible, John."
John gaped down at his Rose. "Well, as long as we're sharing secrets," he said, "I saw you that day too. Helping that boy who was looking for his mummy? You were so kind and gentle with him. So I found out your name and then wrangled an introduction that evening so I could dance with you."
Rose ducked closer to him and hid her blushing face against his chest. John's arms tightened around her, heedless of the raised eyebrows their embrace was garnering. He bent his head so his lips were nearly touching her ear and whispered, "I fell in love with you the moment you took my hand."
The hand he held flexed, and he felt her sigh. "So did I."
John didn't want the dance to end, but eventually, the music stopped. He smiled down at Rose and said, "If you'll go to our table, I'll get refreshments for us."
"Of course."
The line at the refreshment table was longer than he expected, and the anxiety building in the back of John's mind made it impossible for him to be patient. When it was his turn, he took the punch without a thanks and walked back to the table as quickly as was possible in a crowded room.
When he finally returned to Rose, he was surprised to find Martha sitting with her. But he put the look on Rose's face together with the vague sense of disquiet he felt from her, and he frowned at their friend.
"What have you said to upset Rose?"
Rose put her hand over his. "John, don't. Martha and I were just discussing something… troubling, that's all."
Martha looked at Rose like she expected her to say something more, and when Rose shook her head and looked away, she rolled her eyes. "Look, I really wish I didn't have to do this, but I do. They've found us, and we need to hide. If I knew where the watches were, I could just bring you back—the proper you—but for now, hiding is our only option."
"Martha, what are you talking about?" John asked, trying to stay calm like Rose wanted. "Watches? The ones you asked about this afternoon? I told you, I never had any watches."
"No, you only think you don't, because the Doctor made it so you wouldn't notice them. It's called a perception filter."
"The Doctor?" Irritation flashed through John. She'd interrupted his night with Rose, upset Rose, over a story. "The Doctor doesn't exist, Martha."
"Oh, my god! We don't have time for this." Martha pulled a long, silver tube out of her pocket. "Do you know what this is? Name it. Go on, name it."
John reached for it reluctantly. He'd seen this in his dreams; the Doctor and Rose used it to fight aliens and unlock doors. It would work on almost anything, except wood. They'd even used it to heal minor injuries. Could the dreams be real? He looked up at Rose and remembered all the things she'd done with the Doctor in those dreams. Then he remembered how much danger she was always in, and his mind rebelled.
Martha smiled at him. "You're not John Tyler. You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you." She glanced from him, to Rose, and back again. "You're not human, either of you. But the Family has found us, and I need you to change back."
Rose stood up abruptly. "No, it's all right, I just need the loo," she told him when he tried to take her hand. She slipped past him towards the hall at the back of the room.
John watched her go, then turned back to Martha, who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He sighed. "Martha, I can't be—"
A crash by the door cut off his sentence. "There will be silence!" yelled Mr. Clark, one of the local farmers. Jeremy Baines and one of the maids from the school was with him, and a group of scarecrows hovered menacingly behind them. "All of you! I said, silence!" Mr. Clark repeated, rather unnecessarily since the entire assembly was frozen in mute terror.
"Mr. Clark, what's going on?" Mr. Chambers asked.
In answer, Mr. Clark turned and shot Mr. Chambers, who just… disintegrated in front of their eyes. The villagers erupted in screams, and a few of the scarecrows scattered around the room.
Rose still hadn't returned from the loo, and John hoped the sounds coming from the assembly hall would warn her away, though he rather suspected they would rouse her curiosity instead. Please by safe, love, he pleaded, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
Martha grabbed his arm urgently. "Mr. Tyler? Everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything."
"We asked for silence!" Baines shouted. The screams faded into hushed whimpers, and he said, "Now then, we have a few questions for Mr. Tyler."
"No, better than that." A little girl carrying a red balloon pushed her way up to the front of the room to stand with the other three. "The teacher and his wife. They're the Time Lords. I heard them talking."
Baines tilted his head and smirked at John. "You took human form."
"Of course I'm human," John sputtered, even though a voice in the back of his mind told him he knew better. "I was born human, as were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mr. Clark. What is going on? This is madness."
"Ooo, and a human brain, too," Baines cooed. "Simple, thick and dull."
"But he's no good like this," Jenny complained.
Mr. Clark stared at him. "We need the Time Lords."
"Easily done." Baines stepped forward and pointed a gun at John, eliciting gasps of horror from the crowd. "Change back."
John backed away from the lunatic waving a weapon at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Change back!" Baines yelled.
John stumbled slightly, gesturing wildly in confusion. "I literally do not know—"
Jenny lunged forward and grabbed Martha in a chokehold, with a gun to her head. "Get off me!" Martha shouted.
"We'll get your wife later, but she's your friend, isn't she?" Jenny said. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"
It terrified him, especially coupled with the threat to Rose, but he still couldn't do what they were asking. "I don't know what you mean!"
Jenny sneered. "Apparently the maid isn't enough of an incentive. Find Mrs. Tyler."
There was a scuffle in the back of the room, and then one of the strange scarecrows pushed Rose forward. Mr. Clark grabbed her from them and shoved her at Baines, who caught her and spun her around to face the room.
"As I said, Mr. Tyler. Change. Back."
Impotent rage boiled in John's blood. The only way to save Rose was to do the impossible. He looked at her, trying desperately to convey how sorry he was, but she just lifted her chin and looked at him calmly, like she knew he was going to get them out of this somehow. John had always loved how much his wife trusted him, but seeing it today, knowing it might kill her, he hated it.
Baines rolled his eyes and dug his weapon harder into Rose's neck. "Or you, Mrs. Tyler. Sister of Mine is waiting for a Time Lord consciousness, too."
Rose looked at him over her shoulder. "You know," she said scornfully, "you really ought to reconsider your pitch. Even if I knew how to do what you want, the thought of being possessed isn't likely to persuade me."
Baines raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you have a feisty wife, Mr. Tyler! But maybe this will convince you." He twisted Rose's arm hard behind her back, but she didn't cry out. "If one of you changes back, we will let the other go. If neither of you do, we will kill you both," he said, and the evil smirk on his face made John's skin crawl. "So, who shall it be? Husband, or wife? Your choice."