Chapter 3: Windows of Opportunity
Rose has never heard so many curses in her life. At least, she assumes they're curses given how the TARDIS is refusing to translate them. Jack braces his head between his head and sighs, his fit of pique seeming to have disappeared as quickly as it came. No, wait.
She blinks her eyes to focus them and sighs as she recognises her surroundings. Another reset. Back at the beginning, again, right in the console room. She's still sitting on the captain's chair, Jack's beside her and the Doctor's repairing the console.
Oh! Damnit! Memory returns in a flash. The Doctor was about to tell them what was causing the time loop! Now she's tempted to echo Jack's cursing.
"Language," the Doctor scolds as he edges out from underneath the console. "What brought that on?"
Jack's apparently too aggravated to care about tact. "Rose and I are stuck in a temporal recursion. This same day has been repeated god knows how many times and you were about to explain what you found as a source for the recursion before time reset itself. You could say I'm a bit frustrated."
The Doctor blinks at him, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "A temporal recursion?" he repeats as he thumbs on the tool, its high-pitched hum echoing through the console room. "That's impossible. The TARDIS filters out all-"
"Yeah, you said that before," Jack cuts him off, his tone tetchy. "Doesn't work, though. Not on this. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you that in about, oh, a minute we're going to get a mauve alert."
"From Mars," Rose adds.
"From Mars," Jack agrees. "And we can't follow it."
"If we are stuck in a temporal recursion, some things are inevitable. The TARDIS will materialise on Mars no matter what coordinates I set," the Doctor explains, frowning.
Maybe they always will arrive on Mars. Doesn't matter, though. At least, she doesn't think it does. They have to keep trying to change things. If they don't… She forces herself to think positively. She doesn't want to imagine life otherwise. If they're stuck in this recursion permanently, there won't be any asylums in her future. Nor will there be any means of restoring what she'll - what they'll - lose. Both she and Jack will be condemned to insanity, knowing the future but not being able to do a damned thing about it.
She shivers and wraps her arms around herself, cold despite the warmth of the TARDIS. "Jack told me that if we stay in this temporal recursion we'll go mad. Maybe we can try something different. See if we can go somewhere other than Mars. Sure, maybe it won't work, but it's something, yeah? 'Sides, even if we do arrive on Mars, that doesn't mean we have to go outside."
The Doctor studies her for a long moment and she finds that she can't read the look in his blue eyes. "Okay."
"Okay?" she repeats, not daring to believe the word. He's agreeing with her?
"Okay," the Doctor says again as he moves to the console. "Can always try Ulxarint. Fantastic sunsets, best chips this side of the galaxy and, even better, it's one of the best spots to pick up supplies to repair the TARDIS. Been meaning to go there for years - centuries, actually. Just keep getting sidetracked. Maybe we can make it this time."
A smile crosses her face as he turns to the console. The familiar actions of him setting their course is almost a balm to her as she lets herself settle back into the captain's chair. It's tempting to let herself indulge in hoping that this is the last time she'll relive this particular moment. The Doctor knows and he's actively working to help them sort this mess. Surely that's enough?
The Doctor's about to trigger the materialisation sequence when it happens again. A mauve alert has a very distinctive sound – it seems to throb, echoing through her mind like a siren's call. She's on her feet in an instant, though there isn't anything for her to do. This is the Doctor's choice.
Jack's told her that it's an unspoken law of time and space travel to answer a mauve alert. And here they are, asking him to ignore it in favour of running away. Her hands clench into fists and she drops her gaze, staring at the top of her trainers. She isn't certain any more if they're making the right choice. She wants out of this recursion as much as Jack does, but to what lengths are they going to go?
She reminds herself that the mauve alert is just for a broken piece of equipment. Nothing life-threatening. Nothing that's bound to cause Mars to destroy itself. Just a simple piece of broken machinery. Biting her lower lip, she raises her eyes to look at the Doctor.
His jaw clenches as he flips a switch, causing the engines to groan in protest as they set off to who knows where. Maybe he's trying for Ulxarint. Maybe they'll make it there, or maybe it's inevitable that they'll return to Mars.
At least they're trying.
The TARDIS rumbles to a stop an indeterminate amount of time later. It's almost funny, really. In all the months she's travelled with the Doctor, this has to rank highly on the smooth landing chart. A small smile causes her lips to quirk upwards and she shakes her head. They're stuck in a temporal recursion and she's busy ranking the Doctor's landing skills.
She really needs to get her priorities straight.
In the silence that follows in the wake of their arrival - a silence that no-one seems inclined to break - she watches the Doctor and Jack and they watch her. She feels like she can sense the passing of time now. The seconds and minutes seem to drag, though she knows that it is only her perception.
Still, no-one makes a move for the doors. She feels like she's caught in this single moment. No recursions could happen here, just a single instant that can last for an eternity.
"What's out there?" she asks, not realising that she was going to talk until it happens, and the quiet moment shatters.
"Only one way to find out," Jack declares. Even though she knows the TARDIS's sensors aren't broken, not now, she understands his desire to move, to see. It doesn't matter if they're on Mars or not. No-one is leaving the TARDIS now.
Jack walks to the doors while she trails behind him, wanting to see for herself what's outside. When he opens the doors to reveal a red landscape, she can't help the resigned sigh that escapes her lips. "Mars," she says.
"Mars," Jack agrees as he pulls the doors closed.
"That's not what I was aiming for," the Doctor says, though she can tell from the tone of his voice that while he wasn't aiming for Mars, this is what he expected.
She returns to the captain's chair and sits down, staring at a point somewhere off in the distance. "We can always try staying here. Maybe that'll break the recursion?"
Rose sees Jack shrug out of the corner of her eye and she focuses her gaze on him as he settles down beside her. He stretches out his legs in front of himself and sighs. "Maybe," he says, sounding unconvinced.
"Doctor, d'you know of any way to break a temporal recursion?" she asks.
"Normally, I'd say that being inside the TARDIS would save you. It isn't, though. That much is obvious. Breaking the loop is the only option, but without knowing what caused it in the first place I can't help."
Anger, sudden and irrational, fills her as she stares at him. "Fantastic! So, we'll just sit over here going mad quietly, then!" she snaps, instantly regretting the words when she sees him flinch.
Jack straightens his posture beside her. "Rose," he begins, but she holds up her hand to stop him.
"Sorry. It's just… Sorry. It's just a bit much, yeah?" she says, burying her face into her cupped hands. "I'm jus' going to go to bed. 'S been a long day."
There's a glimmer of humour in Jack's voice as he replies, "Tell me about it."
Lowering her hands, she glances at the Doctor and sees only guilt in his expression. "Stop it," she says.
"Stop what?"
"That," she replies, waving her hand towards him. "Feelin' guilty. It's not your fault."
"How do you know?" he counters, cocking his head to the side.
"Simple. If you'd caused this, you'd know about it. You don't, so you didn't." The logic might be a little strained – okay, a lot strained – but it works for her.
"You don't know that."
"Yes," she replies. "I do."
She stands and heads towards the door that leads to the TARDIS's interior. "Wake me when the next recursion strikes," she says, only half-joking.
Much later, she's lying on her back and blinking up at the darkened ceiling. She has no idea what time it is. Sleep has robbed much of her time sense. Nor does she know how much longer she has until the reset occurs – if it does – but she suspects it'll be soon.
Maybe, if this keeps up for much longer, she'll develop a sense for it. Temporal recursion in five…four…three…
FLASH.
Damnit!
It's tempting, so very tempting, to give into the urge and let out a few more curses. That Teluxan curse fits this particular situation beautifully. Jack all but collapses onto the captain's chair next to Rose and sighs.
Hooray for a repeated day.
Focusing on what they've already tried, he tries to determine another possible means of breaking out of this temporal recursion. Staying in the TARDIS obviously doesn't work. Nor does letting the Doctor go off on his own. Alternate destinations don't work either.
So what's left?
He finally got fed up with having to explain things again and again to the Doctor. There's only so many times he can repeat the same words. So the Doctor told him the name of his home planet. That was one thing the legends left out. There were Time Lords, but for all he knew they came from Time Lordia or something equally absurd.
Gallifrey was a much more fitting name. He does have to admit that it does cut down on the explanation time. It's knowledge that he'd never have unless the Doctor told him. It's the simplest of ways to convince the Time Lord that they really are repeating the same day. Yet it doesn't exactly help them break the temporal recursion.
They try going in a different direction on Mars, avoiding the city altogether. Time resets. They try not talking to Sarassen. Time resets. They try sending just the Doctor and Rose out, or just himself and the Doctor out. Time resets again.
Some time after the last reset, while they're on Mars and firmly staying inside, he softly bangs his head against one of the struts. He tells himself that he doesn't care what the Doctor might think about it. He's had enough of this. "That's it," he declares. "I can't do this any more."
"Jack?" Rose asks.
She looks scared, terrified actually. That's good, even though it doesn't do either of them any good. Fear can't get them out of this one. "I'm taking this loop off. If I don't, I'm going to go mad. It's that simple."
The naked relief on her face actually makes him wish he'd done this earlier. "You mean we're not gonna try to escape this time?"
"Nope," he replies. "We're on holiday. We can get back to trying to escape a few loops from now."
Rose wrinkles her nose. "So what do we do on our holiday?"
He grins. "Anything we want."
Her eyes widen with what he assumes is understanding.
"You know the best thing about temporal recursions?" he asks.
She slowly shakes her head.
"No consequences."
"Ha! I won!" she crows, pointing her finger at him. It's become something of a game since Jack suggested taking a holiday from trying to escape from this time loop. As they sense the time of reset drawing closer, they tried to predict when it'd happen. The person who got it right won the chance to choose what they'd do during their next loop within reason.
"You did not," Jack replies. "It was a tie."
"Wasn't," Rose replies, shaking her head. "I distinctly-"
"What're you two on about?" the Doctor asks, pushing himself out from underneath the console. He looks confused and she supposes she should take pity on him, but she's more concerned with making Jack see sense.
"Your homeworld is Gallifrey. We're stuck in a temporal recursion loop and you, Rose Tyler, cheat," Jack declares. Maybe she should be worried about how effortlessly he switches subjects. Then again, he is a former conman.
Now that's just insulting. "I do not! I distinctly remember you saying three. Not two. Three."
"What?" the Doctor exclaims.
It's probably particularly rude of them to continue ignoring the Doctor's questions, but she's too busy trying to prove that Jack is wrong.
Jack shakes his head. "I said two. It's not my fault that you weren't listening to me."
"Now that doesn't-" she begins, but her words are cut off the instant the Doctor moves between the two of them.
Oh. She doesn't much like the look on his face. "A temporal recursion?" he says.
"How much longer until the next reset?" she asks hopefully.
"Too long," Jack replies.
He whistles as he walks down the corridors of the TARDIS, barely feeling the chill of the flooring beneath his bare feet. There is something almost liberating about doing this. There are no concerns like this. The recursion doesn't matter, not really. Instead, he's doing what he's wanted ever since he came onboard the ship.
He hears a sharp gasp behind him.
When he turns around, he has to grin. The Doctor's expression is unreadable and Rose's face is flushed a brilliant red. He spends a moment wondering why they're so flustered before he remembers.
"Is there a reason you're walking around naked?" the Doctor asks.
"Not the reaction I was hoping for. Let's try this again. You see me. Then you say..."
"Get dressed?"
"No," Jack says, trying to be patient. "You say: bed or console?"
The Doctor just rolls his eyes. "Get dressed, Captain. We're going out."
"Oh, a date?" He looks pointedly at them both, following the curves and lines of both their bodies with his gaze. "Does this mean I get to be the filling in the sandwich?"
Rose barely manages to stifle her giggles as the Doctor leads her away without answering.
Chocolate.
It's everywhere. On the floor, on the countertops, on the table. Every bite is a sinful piece of heaven that should go straight to her hips. She grins as she selects a piece of mint chocolate, dropping it into her mouth. As it melts, she closes her eyes, barely managing to suppress a moan of pleasure.
"Rose?" the Doctor asks in a strangely husky voice.
She opens her eyes again to find the Doctor looking at her from the doorway with a strange expression on his face.
"Yeah?"
"What're you doing?" he asks, gazing at the chocolate-covered kitchen.
"Telling consequences to sod off, actually," she says. Grabbing one of the chocolate truffles, she holds it out to him. "Want one?"
She can almost see the thoughts that must be racing through his head. "Sure," he finally says and takes the chocolate from her hand with his own. "Is there a reason you're telling consequences to sod off?"
"The beauty of temporal recursions, as Jack tells me, is no consequences," she replies and pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth.
His eyes are on her lips as he asks, "Are you so certain about that?"
She doesn't know how to respond.
She's torn between being mortified and being amused by Jack's latest attempt to make one of their loops a holiday. There's a very real possibility that the TARDIS has a hand in this, she decides. There's no way this huge bed was here yesterday. Never mind the bit where yesterday to her was technically today.
God, the mixture of temporal recursions and tenses make her head hurt.
"It's a bed," the Doctor says slowly, looking at them suspiciously.
"Yup," Jack replies.
"This is what I had to see?" The combination of disbelief and sarcasm in the Time Lord's voice is enough to make her wince.
"Oh, more than just see," Jack says. "It's a feast for your senses. Sight, sound…" Jack moves closer to the Doctor and lets his hand barely touch a leather-clad shoulder. "Touch."
The rush of heat to her cheeks tells her that she's definitely blushing. Jack's being far more blatant than she ever would've expected of him. She's always assumed that would be the quickest way of making the Doctor run.
Yet the Doctor's still here. "What's got into you both?" the Doctor asks, staring at the two of them through narrowed eyes.
"The Devil?" Jack suggests, grinning as he pushes the Doctor towards the bed.
Sure, she's gone along with this so far. It is tempting to just let her inhibitions go. It's not like the Doctor'll remember this. Except, and this is a big exception, she will. If she goes through with this, can she go back to the way things were?
Jack must've seen the doubts in her eyes as he turns towards her, gesturing for her to join them. Instead, she gazes at the Doctor, trying to categorise his every reaction to this particular situation. Maybe he's been expecting something like this from Jack, but judging by the look in his eyes, he definitely didn't expect this out of her.
Mortification is definitely winning the internal battle.
The sonic screwdriver is in the Doctor's hands and the high-pitched hum fills the room. He first points it towards Jack, frowning at the readings. When he turns the device towards her, his frown only deepens. "Normal. Completely normal readings for both of you. Have you had anything to drink? Eat? Something you didn't recognise?"
"That's the beauty of temporal recursions," Jack says as he approaches the Doctor. "Doesn't matter what you do, really. In the end, no-one except Rose and me will remember."
Before she can say anything, do anything, Jack's lips are on the Doctor's. Part of her wishes she were that bold, part wants to back away slowly and another part wants to join in.
Is the Doctor kissing him back? She can't tell, not really. She'd have to move to get a better position and her feet are rooted to the spot.
When the kiss breaks some time later, the Doctor pushes away from Jack and looks at her, giving her a challenging glance. "Is this what you wanted?" he asks, looking between them. "A chance to see what would happen if you let your human fantasies have free rein? Well, there you are. Now you know. C'mon, then, Rose. If that's what you really want."
Her blush is deepening as mortification threatens to consume her. "This isn't… It's not…"
"What is it, then?" the Doctor asks.
"He won't remember," Jack reminds her.
"Doesn't matter," she says. "I will."
With those words, she turns on her heel and leaves the room. Jack's and the Doctor's gazes weigh heavily upon her as she goes, but she doesn't let herself give in and turn around. This isn't how this was supposed to be. None of this.
This, she decides, is the curse of repeating a day. Even though one of them won't remember what happened, she will. She always will.
Jack wonders if she can feel the weight of his gaze upon her. She's been strangely subdued this loop and he knows precisely why. God, he's an idiot. He should've realised that she wasn't ready for something like that. She's from the twenty-first century. Different rules about sex, different rules about everything.
Then again, he's not the one who watched someone else kiss the man he loved. Damnit.
Rose is sitting on the console room floor, her back pressed against one of the struts, supposedly helping the Doctor work on repairs. Even the Doctor's stopped asking her for tools. Instead, he reaches up periodically from his position underneath the grating to grab another tool.
He's got to fix this. "Rose?" he tries. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
She looks up at him and offers him a smile, a smile that he certainly isn't expecting to see after her mood for most of this loop. "I've been a cow," she says. "I should be the one apologising. You're right. You're absolutely right."
Jack tries his best to follow what she's saying but he's failing miserably. "Of course I am. Right about what?"
"The beauty of temporal recursions is that there are no consequences," she replies.
Ah. "So what would you like to do now?" he asks. He guesses that they've got a few more hours to kill before the next reset.
"Your choice."
There are so many things he could suggest. Like escorting her to his bedroom, or daring her to snog the Doctor. "Strip poker?" he suggests.
"Only if you can convince the Doctor to play," she replies with a wicked grin.
The thought of Rose Tyler in various states of undress is more than enough for him to do his best to convince a reluctant Time Lord to join in the fun. After all, he's been dying to see if reality can beat his overactive imagination ever since he met Rose and the Doctor.
Somehow, and he's still trying to remember just what he promised to make this happen, the Doctor does end up joining them, which ends up being to his great chagrin. He should've guessed that his two companions were really card sharks. Very subtle, very clever and obviously cheating card sharks.
He's down to his wrist-comp – which he's insisted counts as a piece of clothing since the Doctor had insisted upon using his watch as one of his forfeits – and his trousers, socks and shoes. Rose is minus one hoodie and both her socks and trainers. The Doctor's only lost his watch and leather jacket.
In all, this really isn't fair.
"Call," he says, hoping against hope that this hand will at least win him a glimpse of the Doctor's bare chest.
The cards are laid out on the table. He's definitely beaten the Doctor – his two pairs are higher than the Time Lord's. But Rose's four of a kind beats them all.
"Shit," he mutters.
"Sore loser?" the Doctor asks, grinning.
He slips off the wrist-comp and tosses it amongst the pile of clothing beside him. Jack's then rewarded with the sight of pale skin as the Doctor pulls off his jumper, letting it fall to the floor.
"Oh," he says, distracted by the sight of the Doctor's torso. "I wouldn't say that."
Rose tells herself firmly that she can do this. Jack's already done it. He's even cheering for her to do it, coaxing her to take the chance. What does it matter if she'll always remember this moment? It's the only chance she'll ever get.
Straightening her posture and trying to gather as much strength as possible from Jack's encouragement, she walks boldly into the console room. The Doctor's fiddling with the TARDIS console again, though she suspects it's only a matter of time before he decides to go outside and explore. There's only so much one can stand of doing the same…
Right. The Doctor isn't the one who knows he's stuck in a temporal recursion. She is.
"Doctor?" she asks.
Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, he stops what he's doing to look at her. "Yeah?"
The thought barely crosses her mind to close the distance between them before she's already there, looking up at him. He's so close that she can smell his unique scent – leather and oil and something that she likes to think of as time. "There's something-" She cuts herself off, not wanting to use words at a time like this. Is it taking advantage of someone when they won't remember it?
"Rose?" he asks and she can see the concern in his gaze. It's the touch of his hand against her cheek that spurs her movement.
She presses her lips against his and she thinks she feels him respond when there's a brilliant flash of white that seems to bleach out reality itself.
Rose decides she really hates temporal recursions.
To be continued...