Calendar Girl

Author's Note: This is my first two-part mini-story because it spans two (or three-ish) adventures. It does not have much to do with the calendar this time around, but is important to the story arc nonetheless. And since it starts with a plan for a spring activity, still falls within April's calendar.

This story does cover "Dalek," but I did my best not to make it just a re-write. The second part will tie some of the things brought up in this one, and you will see that "Dalek" is just one small part of that.

Chapter 5 – Picnics, Perils, and Prat Falls: Part One

Adam Mitchell was only on board the Tardis because Rose Tyler was still alive and the Doctor would have done anything she asked in gratitude of that fact. She had made hints about the young man's desire to see the stars right before the two of them were about to leave. Still, the Doctor was not happy about the extra passanger. She acted like Adam was a lost puppy in need of a home, but the Doctor was not in the business of taking in strays, no matter how adorable Rose might find them. And he didn't believe for one moment that she hadn't noticed that Adam was one of the pretty boys.

But it wasn't jealousy that made the doctor reluctant to have him on his ship (not completely, anyway); it was that Adam was a prat. The Doctor could tell from the moment he had laid eyes on this young English kid, that though he might be a genius by human standards, he lacked any real substance or wisdom. Adam touted his intelligence like a peacock parading his feathers, but the Doctor predicted he would last one, maybe two, excursions before he would be completely out of his element. Meanwhile Rose (his wonderful, beautiful, fully-alive Rose) who had never passed her A-levels would run circles around him with her eyes closed. And once Adam finally did beg to be taken home, the Doctor would never take in strays again for any reason—not even because someone lived, and especially not pretty boys who were full of themselves. But for now he would tolerate anything because Rose Tyler was alive. And that was all that mattered to him at the moment.

"Where're we goin'?" Rose had asked the Doctor that morning. She had entered the console room shortly after she had eaten breakfast and noticed that the Time Rotor was already in motion.

"Not tellin'," the Doctor lips were closed tightly, but the edges of his mouth turned upwards in a slight grin.

"Not even a hint?" Rose took a peek at the monitor, but because it was just a series of circles, lines, and semicircles, it told her nothing.

"Nope." The Doctor turned the monitor so that only he could see it. Rose wondered if he had forgotten that she couldn't decipher it, or if the action was just a physical show of his nondisclosure.

"Fine," Rose said with a mock pout that she had hoped would get him to divulge some information. When it had no effect, she sat down dramatically on the jump seat with an audible "humph" and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She thought she noticed the corner of the Doctor's mouth twitch in amusement, but apparently the stubborn-yet-cute child act was not going to work on him. She knew it was rather immature anyway, so she resolved herself to wait and be surprised. She wasn't even sure why she was so intrigued with the day's destination. If she had to guess, it was likely because there was something different about the Doctor's demeanor. The Doctor had had kept their journey's eventual outcome a secret before, but usually he made hints or statements to play up how great the adventure would be or how very impressive he was for thinking of it. Today he seemed to be both nervous and excited, as if it was the of utmost importance that Rose appreciate their eventual destination. As Rose considered the meaning of the Doctor's actions, she noticed a small wicker basket about the size of a child's lunch box on the jump seat. "What's in the basket?" she asked as she started untying the strings holding the flap of the basket closed.

"Our lunch, now stop your snooping." The Doctor frowned, but his tone was playful.

"How's that enough for both of us?" Rose asked.

"Bigger on the inside," the Doctor said. "Time Lord science isn't just for the Tardis, you know." He pointed to his left. "Now turn that dial."

"Weren't we out of almost everything?" Rose asked. She hopped off the jump seat and turned the dial he had pointed to. "When did you get food? Did you actually go shopping?"

"So many questions!" the Doctor said with a chuckle. "Yes I went shopping. Last night, on Earth, in Europe, sometime in the 1980s."

"But what about sleep?" Rose asked, amazed. She knew she always turned in before the Doctor did, but Rose had always assumed he shut things down and retired to his own room soon after.

"Seems to me you got enough." He glanced quickly in her direction then circled to the opposite side of the console.

"Not me, you!" she said with a roll of her eyes as she moved to the place he was standing.

"Don't need as much," the Doctor said with a shrug.

"Oh." Rose stood a moment pondering that fact. It occurred to her that not only was the Doctor still awake when she finally went to bed, he was also always up before her. "How much sleep do you need?" she asked.

He glanced at his wristwatch as if the answer was written on it. "I can get by with an hour a night for about a fortnight without feeling tired," he said "but I prefer two-and-a-half to three hours."

Once again Rose was reminded that the Doctor was not human. She watched him flip switches for a few minutes (and at one point even hit the edge of the console with a mallet) as this truth sunk deeper into her consciousness. Sometimes he seemed so human, but then a simple thing like the amount of sleep they each needed would come up and make her aware that she and the Doctor were still aliens to each other. She told herself it shouldn't matter, but what if their differences were too great? What if he grew weary of her stupid human needs like sleep or marking time on a calendar? She was willing to travel with him indefinitely, but was he as equally committed to having her aboard? Rose's heart sank at the thought of him growing tired of her, but then she chided herself for getting upset over a hypothetical scenario. Instead she focused on the adventure du jour. "So where're we going, anyway?" Rose asked.

"Nice try."

The Doctor smiled at Rose and she smiled back with a bit of her tongue peeking through her teeth. He hoped she would think the payoff was worth keeping her in suspense. To Rose this was just another trip. He tried to convince himself he thought the same, but it felt different, and in many ways it went against his better judgment. He had chosen a beautiful setting based on her interests and went to great lengths to prepare a special meal that appeared to be effortless. He even chose new jeans and wore his sage jumper (which was his favorite because he thought he looked the best in it). Though it had not occurred to him in the planning, now that everything was in motion, it was apparent to him that the details corresponded to the courtship rituals of Earth's Western culture in the early twenty-first century. More specifically, the excursion closely resembled a first date. Though Rose had joked about his quality as a date when she had bought them both chips after they had visited Platform One, Rose's statement had clearly been made in jest and the sentiment and intention of that shared meal was very different than what he was feeling now.

Of course, that brought up questions about his feelings and the purpose for making arrangements that could be so easily mistaken for a date—questions for which he did not have clear answers. He'd traveled with companions before, and most of them had been young human females, but this was because they reminded him of his granddaughter, Susan. None of them had gotten to him the way Rose had. She was only nineteen, but she already showed more wisdom and intuition than humans twice or three times her age. Rose was special; there was no doubt about it, but he would be foolish to forget what she was. She was human—a brilliant one at that—but she would flash and spark and be gone in a blink. Even if she stayed with him till the end of her days, it would still be too short. But she would leave before that. Eventually she would tire of his life of wandering and running and desire to settle down and live a predictable life—likely with some human male. This last thought filled him with a mix of anger and hurt, and it was this reaction that let him know he was in trouble. His people would not have approved of the amount of attention he gave this simple human girl. But his people were gone. And while that meant there were no other Time Lords to judge him, it also meant he was alone. Perhaps this was one reason that his attachment to her was so strong: he didn't want to be alone. But the Doctor knew it was deeper than that. He didn't need just any traveling companion; he needed her.

The Doctor ceased his musings and realized that, while lost in thought, he had done nothing to actively pilot the Tardis. Therefore he was thankful to see that (despite a long history of landing him in the wrong place and time) they were still right on target. In just a moment the Tardis would land on a high peak and Doctor would show Rose the breathtaking view of a landscape reminiscent of the world created by Tolkien. Then he would move the Tardis to a grassy knoll evoking visions of the Shire and set out a luxurious picnic. Just as the Doctor was about to announce their arrival, there was a jolt and the Tardis changed course. The Doctor swiveled the monitor over and peered at a signal on his screen. He cursed under his breath. All he wanted was one day of peace with no rescuing, no running, and no danger; but once again some cosmic force had thrown a spanner in the works. Today, however, the Doctor refused to be controlled by the chaos of chance. He had a time machine. He would proceed with the picnic as planned and come back to the crisis at hand when they were done.

It was a sound plan, but the Tardis was stuck. They were being pulled in.

"Change of plans, Rose," the Doctor said trying to keep the mood light. "Lunch has to wait a bit."

His tone must not have been convincing, because the moment the Tardis landed and they cautiously exited, Rose asked, "So what is it? What's wrong?"

"Don't know," he said as he looked around and got his bearings. "Some kind of signal drawing the Tardis off course."

"Where are we?" she asked as she looked around the dimly lit room.

"Earth. Utah, North America. About half a mile underground," he said, still feeling slightly irritated.

"And when are we?" Rose asked.

"Two thousand and twelve," he said. He noticed a worm-like creature that had been preserved in a display case and peered at it curiously.

"God, that's so close. So I should be twenty six," she said, looking in his direction.

The Doctor didn't respond. He couldn't help but notice that Rose was still thinking about time and her relative age in a very linear fashion. And if she did, what then did he think of his age and seeming lack of concern for doing things in any order?

He found a light switch, and the whole place lit up when he flipped it. Cases like the one he had been examining were lined up in neat rows for several meters, and each one of them contained and alien artifact. He and Rose commented on the place's similarity to a museum as a sense of foreboding tickled at the edges of his mind. In front of him in a case was the head of a Cyberman. The Doctor should have trusted his instincts and run the other way, but he couldn't abandon whatever needed his help.

"The stuff of nightmares reduced to an exhibit. I'm getting old," he said. It was both a commentary on the situation and an acknowledgement that his life and that of his youthful companion were light years apart. He chided himself for planning the picnic and daring to even entertain the idea that it could be a date. She was nineteen and could have her pick of any young man; he was nine hundred years old and no one she could ever view as more than a friend. He could offer her adventure and a chance to look at life more broadly than she had before, but he was a fool to think it was possible (or even proper) to hope for anything more. As the Doctor pondered the foolishness of his infatuation with the very young and very human Rose, he touched the edge of the display. When he did, alarms sounded, armed guards surrounded them, and a new nightmare began that chased all thoughts of a picnic from his mind.

The Doctor and Rose were escorted to the office of Henry van Statten, and it took mere seconds for the Doctor to be thoroughly disgusted with the man who collected alien artifacts and kept an alien creature locked up as his "pet." The Doctor's opinion was more fully validated when van Statten spoke about Rose disrespectfully and tried to pair her off with his young assistant, Adam Mitchell, simply because they shared a homeland.

But things went rapidly from annoying to perilous when the Doctor was locked in with the creature that van Statten called the Metaltron. First he saw a blue light in the darkness, and addressed it kindly, but then he heard a familiar electronic voice say his name.

"DOC-TOR?"

The Doctor felt terror rise up within him. He was face to face with a Dalek, and he knew the next word that the creature would say would be the last he ever heard:

"EXTERMINATE!"

But it didn't work. The metallic battle armor that encased the creature inside was badly damaged, as was its gunstick. The Doctor taunted his enemy that had somehow escaped the Time War, and it taunted him back, claiming that they were the same because they were both the last of their kind. Overtaken by fury, the Doctor determined to end the Time War once and for all by killing the loathsome creature chained before him. He flipped a switch that sent electricity charging into the Dalek and ignored its cries, but van Statten's guards stopped him. Van Statten, who now knew that the Doctor was not from Earth, chained him up and examined him with a scanner that that caused him to writhe in pain. The Doctor was released only because a red alert signalled that the Dalek had escaped.

On a screen, the Doctor saw Rose Tyler outside the Dalek's cage. "Doctor, it's all my fault," she said. He would later learn that Rose touched the Dalek and that part of her DNA had helped it regenerate. At the moment he didn't care if it was her fault or not, he just cared about her safety. So he was glad that a guard had evacuated her and Adam from the area.

The Dalek escaped, downloaded the internet, and used the energy from the several states to fully repair itself. It was now a killer bent on exterminating every living thing, and it had started with van Statten's guards. Bullets bounced off the Dalek's armor, and the Dalek made sure that the Doctor saw it happen on screen. Then it addressed the Doctor, asking for direction. It was a soldier and there was no one left to give it orders.

The Doctor stared at his enemy on the screen, hatred bubbling in him like a volcano about to burst. "Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct?" the Doctor shouted to the Dalek on the screen. "Rid the Universe of your filth. Why don't you just die!" The Doctor's hearts raced with the fury of his words.

"YOU WOULD MAKE A GOOD DALEK" said his enemy calmly.

The words stung and it took a second for the Doctor to focus. He had to defeat it. The only solution was to seal the vaults by setting a command to seal the bulkheads one by one, but Rose and Adam were still down there. He waited as long as he could to ensure Rose could escape, but power was failing and he had no choice but to proceed. He called her mobile phone urging her to get to safety, but it was too late.

"Sorry, I was a bit slow," she said sadly.

The Doctor felt his chest tighten.

"Sealed in, Doctor," Rose's voice said from over the phone line. "It wasn't your fault. Remember that, okay? It wasn't your fault."

The Doctor wanted to argue, but all he could do was listen

"And do you know what?" Rose continued. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

The Doctor wanted to speak, to say something—anything—to her while he still had the chance, but no words came. Then he heard the Dalek shout "EXTERMINIATE!", and a blast from its weapon stalk reverberated in his ear. Rose Tyler was gone.

"I killed her," he said. The Dalek may have been the one fire at her, but it was his fault. His people were gone, and now the only other creature in the universe worth living for had been taken from him.

"I'm sorry," van Statten said. But the stupid ape should not have spoken. The Doctor directed his pain and anger onto the megalomaniac who let all others fall—including Rose—in his quest to touch the stars.

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them," the Doctor shouted at him. "You're about as far from the stars as you can get." The reality of the loss set in and the Doctor spoke again, his voice wavering with grief, "And you took her down with you. She was nineteen years old."

Adam ran into the room, and his presence brought back the Doctor's anger. "You were quick on your feet, leaving Rose behind," he snapped at the young man the moment he entered.

Adam snapped back at him just as quickly. "I'm not the one who sealed the vault!"

They were interrupted by the voice of the Dalek.

"OPEN THE BULKHEAD OR ROSE TYLER DIES," commanded the Dalek.

The Doctor turned in the direction of the voice and gasped as a weight lifted from him. On a screen was the image of Rose Tyler, alive and well.

"You're alive!" he said. His grin was so wide, it hurt the edges of his cheeks.

"Can't get rid of me," Rose quipped.

The memory of what the Doctor thought had happened invaded his joy. "I thought you were dead," he said. His sadness had a sharp edge of self-directed anger.

"OPEN THE BULKHEAD!" demanded the Dalek.

"Don't do it!" Rose said. It was just the thing he expected her to say. Once again, she was willing to sacrifice herself to save others. But an irrational voice in his wanted to forget the others and save her instead.

"WHAT USE ARE EMOTIONS IF YOU WILL NOT SAVE THE WOMAN YOU LOVE?" asked the Dalek.

It was just a taunt, the Doctor reasoned. Daleks did not understand love. A bit of Rose's DNA and knowledge from the internet could not cause a Dalek to understand the complexity of love. But in a split second, the Doctor's mind flooded with thoughts that had previously skirted on the edge of his consciousness. She was beautiful—not just for a human, but for anyone—and her smile could chase away the demons of the Time War. He trusted her with his life and, increasingly, with his past. She was the only thing in the universe that gave him hope and he couldn't imagine living without her.

Did he love Rose Tyler?

An image of Downing Street flashed in his mind. He stood across the table from the girl he had known only days, but almost lost twice. He had stalled to implement the plan to save the world because she was caught in the middle. I could save the world but lose you.

He loved Rose Tyler—surprisingly, but fully and deeply. He loved her, and this time he was putting her first.

"I killed her once. I can't do it again," he said. He pushed the button to open the bulkheads.

What happened next was a blur. He had to kill the Dalek and save Rose. Though he rarely used weapons, he waded through the junk Adam had not catalogued till he found a gun that would work. Moments later he stood in front of Rose, ready to shoot the thing he hated most. But Rose stopped him.

"It couldn't kill me. It's changing," she said. "What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into?"

He saw her look of disappointment and lowered the gun. "I couldn't," he started. "I wasn't..." He looked into her eyes to find the strength to speak. "Oh, Rose. They're all dead."

The Dalek asked Rose for permission to die, and she granted it. The Dalek was no more, by its own doing. In silence, they made their way back to the Tardis, the only piece of home he had left.

"The Dalek survived. Maybe some of your people did too," suggested Rose. He knew it wasn't true, but he appreciated her attempts to comfort him.

"I'd know. In here," he said pointing to his head. "Feels like there's no one."

"Well then, good thing I'm not going anywhere," she said.

"Yeah," he replied. At least that was true for now. Despite everything that had happened, it would be ok. He remembered the picnic basket that was still on the jump seat. He could still share it with the girl who stole his hearts. Maybe the meal would be less about his need to impress Rose and more about reflecting on the day, but at least she was still by his side: his beautiful, wonderful Calendar Girl.

The Doctor's thoughts were interrupted by Adam who had run to tell them the place was about to be buried. It ruined his revelry, and the Doctor tried to get rid of him, not caring if he was being rude. But Rose's hints to invite him along were obvious. The Doctor wanted Rose to himself, but at least she was alive and promising to stay with him. If picking up this stray made her happy, then he would do it. He was pretty sure the boy genius wouldn't last long anyway.

Author's Note: I know we do not get to see much of Rose's point of view in this chapter, but her part is coming.

After that, I will try to update this story as it corresponds to the actual holiday/event I am writing about. That being said, there is one more adventure that takes place in April, and one that takes place in very early May, but I need to update my other story as well, so those two will be a tad out of sync with our real-life calendar.

If you follow "The Way We Were", my hope is to start posting on a schedule with that one. My goal would be every Saturday night, which means whatever time I go to bed after Saturday, even it is technically Sunday morning. (And even if I posted at 11:59 it would be Sunday for most anyway.) If I am late, then my late day to post would be Tuesday night.

Thanks everyone for your patience. I am happy to be writing again!