I'm very proud of myself for waiting to post this whole thing until it was done, but boy is it a pain in the butt to remember to post a chapter every day. In any case, here's chapter two. Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: Remember "Luke's Dark Day" from Gilmore Girls? That was based off my reaction to finding out I don't own Doctor Who.
The last thing Rose remembered was being in a car. Her head was rather foggy and her very bones ached. With a few grunts and squeaks, she stretched out her legs to find a heavy pile of blankets pressing her into the cushions below. Confused, she peeled one eye open to find out exactly where she was. After a few successful blinks, she could make out a coffee table a few feet in front of her, although it was a bit sideways. Sofa, she thought, catching the sight of the dark green cushion beneath her body. Her cheek was resting on a rather scratchy black pillow, but it felt nice; her head felt like lead. Not wanting to move much more, she glanced around the room. The walls were dark green as well, only a little lighter with white trim where they met the ceiling. There was a mahogany bookshelf overstuffed with books next to an empty doorway, a television sitting atop a stand on the other side of the coffee table, and there was light filtering in from a window covered by white drapes beside it. Her eyes drifted back to the bookshelf, lazily thinking about how much the Doctor would appreciate it.
The Doctor. She gasped, trying to push herself up. Before she got far, she clutched her head and fell back, dizzy. It was like when she'd gotten the flu on her thirteenth birthday and she'd felt as if someone had hit her over the head with a mallet half the week. Though disoriented, her chest was tight with fear. He couldn't have left her, he couldn't have. After Madame du Pompadour and Pete's World, he couldn't have just up and left her without any sort of goodbye, especially not when she hadn't a clue where she was.
Just as she was about to call out for him, she caught something move out of the corner of her eye, just behind the back of the sofa. She frowned, moving slower as she tried to make out what it was. At the arm near her feet, a little head of brown ringlets appeared. Rose was rather startled; she'd been picturing the worst, nastiest alien she'd ever seen, not the face of an innocent little girl. Said little girl, no older than six, was staring at her with her already huge brown eyes thrown wide and her mouth open, knowing she'd been caught. She made a move to run away, but Rose shook her head, opening her mouth a few times to speak, but finding herself unable. The little girl seemed to understand, though, and handed her a glass of water Rose hadn't originally noticed on the coffee table.
"I'm Rose," she said a bit hoarsely as soon as she was able. "Whot's your name, then?"
"Desiree," the girl squeaked, her voice high pitched and rough.
"Nice to meet you, Desiree. Is your mum around?"
Just as the words came out of her mouth, a tall woman with similarly curly hair glided into the room, hand on her hips. "Desiree, I told you to stay out of here until she was feeling better," she scolded firmly. Rose shrunk back, remembering how it felt to have her own mum scold her in front of guests.
To her credit, Desiree had a good remorseful face, whether it was fake or not. Her eyes fell to the floor and she hung her head. "I just wanted to see her," she muttered.
The woman shook her head. "Go sit in the kitchen, we'll talk about this in a minute." As her daughter dragged herself through the doorway, presumably to the kitchen, the woman turned to Rose and gave her a slightly guilty smile. "I'm so sorry she woke you; sometimes she really can't control herself."
"Oh, it's no trouble. I was awake before she came in." She offered a tired smile. "Um, do you know where the Doctor is?"
She furrowed her brow, then a look of recognition crossed her elegant features. "Oh, yeah, right. He's outside helping Brendan get some firewood before they all get soaked with the snow. He insisted on staying with you until your temperature was more or less back to normal. He's a keeper, that one." There was a smile and a knowing look in the older woman's eyes, making Rose blush crimson and avert her eyes. "I'm Angela, by the way. I don't think I had the chance to introduce myself earlier."
"'s nice to meet you. Could you tell me where I am?"
"Connecticut."
Rose frowned. "Never heard of it."
Angela laughed, a glint in her eyes. "Not surprising. We're a small state, we usually get overlooked anyway."
Before she could come up with any form of reply, she heard the distinct sound of a front door shutting and two pairs of footsteps making their way through the house. "That's them," Angela said, sinking down onto the arm of the sofa by Rose's feet. Sure enough, the Doctor, accompanied by the young man she vaguely remembered from the road, strolled in, looking cheerful, but Rose could see he was a bit put out.
His expression did a complete turn around the moment his eyes connected with hers; his eyes lit up, his posture straightened, a grin spread his lips. He was kneeling at her side in the blink of an eye. "Look who's awake," he said, happily. He pressed a hand to her forehead and carefully examined her fingers before placing a kiss where the hand had been and standing. "You're temperature's back to normal and your colour looks much better. I'd say we could go back to the TARDIS, but it appears as though we've been snowed in."
She struggled to sit up, slower this time, but struggled nonetheless. He took her elbow and gingerly helped her up against the pillow she'd been resting her head on. She was grateful for the new change of perspective, as she could now see how there was another doorway on the opposite side of the room as the other and the archway that lead to the dining room behind the couch out of the corner of her eye. The Doctor crossed to the window and pulled back the drapes, revealing to her the gloomy grey sky and swirling white powder still pouring down from the heavens. She smiled, despite the caged animal feeling it gave her. There was just something about snow that was utterly enchanting.
"You're more than welcome to stay in the guest room," Angela piped up from her perch. "Brendan can go put sheets on the bed while I start dinner. Soup is okay, right?"
"Soup is gorgeous," Rose replied, only just realising how hungry she was. The older woman gave them another smile and disappeared the same way her daughter had. She turned to the Doctor, whose grin had suddenly disappeared, and held out a hand. He took it and allowed himself to be pulled down next to Rose, even wrapping an arm around her so she could curl up next to him like he knew she loved to do. She rested her cheek over his right heart and sighed contently. "How bad off was I?"
He hesitated. "A few more hours and…"
"'t's good that Brendan was there when he was, eh? I can't imagine travellin' with an ice lolly would be much fun." She gave him her best tongue touched smile and watched the worry lines fade from his face. He tugged her closer.
"I don't foresee it being a pleasurable experience, no." One side of his mouth twitched upwards. "I'm glad you're all right."
Her breath caught as she felt him press his lips to her hairline. It was the second time he'd kissed her in under ten minutes. She tried not to dwell on it. "So Connecticut. Where, exactly, is that?"
By the time Angela called to them that supper was ready, the Doctor had given Rose the cliff notes history of the small state as well as some interesting facts about the area they were in. She'd laughed when he told her Goldfish were made there, then begged him to take her to the factory. She loved those crackers. She laughed even harder when she found a blue bag of them sitting on the table next to the pot of steaming chicken soup. Her mouth watered at the smell. She hardly even noticed Desiree elbow her brother out of the way to get the seat next to her, or the presence of another child in the room. Sure enough, there was a golden haired toddler bouncing in his chair beside his mother, curls bouncing almost animatedly. Rose grinned at him when stopped to stare at the two strangers in his house.
"This is Duran. Duran, this is Rose and the Doctor. Can you say hello?"
He continued to stare at them, but eventually managed to give a shy wave. "'t's a pleasure to meet you, Duran," Rose said with an exaggerated nod. The boy blushed and shrunk back into his chair.
They all dived into the soup quickly after the exchange, a quiet falling over them for a few minutes. "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourselves?"
Rose glanced at the Doctor, one eyebrow raised in a lazy warning. He winked. "We're from London. Just got here, actually."
"What do you do?"
"We travel, mostly. We try to see as much as we can. He's actually been promising me Barcelona for the longest time now, but somehow we've never made it over," she replied, throwing a pointed look at her companion, who, also pointedly, ignored it.
"Why did you come here, then? Spain is much more interesting than America," Brendan scoffed, slurping a spoonful of soup.
"I've been keen on seeing what it's like over here for the longest time. I grew up in a rough neighbourhood and never thought I'd even get the chance, but the Doctor here just swept me up. This was a surprise, though. We've been all over, but never America."
Angela chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry this had to be your first experience. We usually don't get storms like this. They're saying the last one this bad in Connecticut was in the seventies."
"Yeah, last year we only got a little on Halloween and that was it," Desiree chimed in, frowning as she chased a fish cracker around her bowl.
"On Halloween? That's exciting. We hardly ever get much snow in England. Usually just rain. I don't think I've ever seen this much fall all at once."
Conversation flowed rather easily after that, Rose even coaxed a few shy words out of Duran before they retired to the living room again. Desiree parked herself next to Rose, her big eyes watching her every move. The Doctor, grumbling, claimed the other side, and Duran hesitantly climbed into her lap. They chatted and watched television for a while – Rose was fascinated by some trivia show with catchy theme music, even though the Doctor told her England had their own version of it – before Angela excused herself to get the little ones ready for bed, telling them they could hang out there or in the guest room, and Brendan took a call from a friend in another room.
It was pitch black outside while the two remaining talked. They were both tired, but one more than the other. When Rose stifled a third yawn, the Doctor practically threw her over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs. She rolled her eyes, but conceded that she was, in fact, tired and could use some rest, and followed him up the stairs. The room they'd been given was modest, but still rather nice. The queen bed stood against the side wall, the far one bearing two covered windows. The walls were a neutral beige and the duvet was a brown that nearly matched his suit. She turned to him, abruptly. "We sharing or are you not sleeping?" she asked rather bluntly. He fumbled for a moment. "If you're not sleepin', you can't wander the house; it's rude and you could wake the kids."
He huffed, but shrugged. "I'll see about getting some sleep," he muttered, tossing his coat over an arm chair in front of the closet, followed by his jacket.
She turned away so as not to allow herself to stare, and rid herself of her trainers and socks. Her jacket was downstairs, but other than that, she had nothing else to wear, so she glanced over her shoulder at him, who seemed fully concentrated on untying his white chucks, and quickly shed her jeans, then practically throwing herself under the duvet.
It was another few minutes before the Doctor got in beside her, trouser-less. There was a brief moment when their legs touched that they both looked at each other as if they hadn't expected it in the slightest. "Rose, are you not–"
"Well I wasn't gonna sleep in my jeans, was I?" she huffed. "We're both adults here. I think we can handle it."
They fell silent again for a few minutes, aside from the rustling of the bedsheets as both tried to get comfortable. Rose gave up first, lying on her back, glaring at the ceiling. "Doctor?"
"Rose?"
She hesitated, chewing her lip for a moment before continuing, "d'you mind if we sleep, I dunno, closer? We'll end up rippin' the covers off each other in the night otherwise, and I'm still a bit cold."
She heard him suck in a breath. "Sure."
Next thing she knew, she was on her side with the Doctor pressed up against her back. She fit perfectly against him, a fact neither of them missed. With a contented sigh, she shut her eyes and tried not to focus on the arm he'd wrapped around her middle too much. Her dreams that night weren't filled with naughty thoughts, but rather other small miracles such as this performed by the Doctor himself.