Chapter Six: And Now For Something a Bit More Lunar
Rose awoke to a sharp kick in her shin. Grimacing, she reached for the lamp on her bedside table and switched it on. John was twitching violently in his sleep, his face twisted in panic.
"John," she said, shaking him. "John!"
John gasped as his eyes flew open, chest heaving as if he'd been running. "Rose?"
She scooted closer. "You okay?"
John took a few more deep breaths, then nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just a dream."
"Another Doctor dream?"
John nodded morosely, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah."
Rose let him think for a moment before asking, "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"It's mad, though. And it was just a dream."
"I like hearing about your dreams, though."
John hesitated. "You were in this one."
"Yeah?" said Rose, a bit amused. "I would be in one of the bad Doctor dreams."
"No, no!" stammered John. "I mean, it started out nice. We were laughing at…something. I dunno. You were wearing a poodle skirt, like it was the '50s or something."
Rose grinned. "Yeah? Maybe it was."
"But then those metal creatures showed up again," John continued with a shudder. "The exterminators."
Rose nodded solemnly.
"So then we were running from them, but they were shooting at us. So I pushed this button that was supposed to trap them, and it did. But then I turned around and realised you were trapped in there with them." John swallowed. "So I broke the door down and found you, but your face was gone. Just gone. And that let the metal things out, and they chased me, and…" He stopped. "I woke you up. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Rose insisted, squeezing his shoulder.
John let out a weak laugh. "Look at me, having nightmares. Completely irrational. Silly Doctor dreams."
"You love them, though."
"Don't I just. Hold on, what time is it?" He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "Oh! Time to get up."
Rose propped herself up to look at the clock. "You've still got an hour before you have to get up."
"Nope!" said John cheerfully, kicking off the covers. "Today is your birthday, and you are getting breakfast in bed."
Rose sat up. "Is it? Already?"
John lightly pushed her back down. "Honestly, Rose, you're the one who ought to be the time traveler. April 27? Your twenty-second birthday?" He looked suddenly aghast. "Or was I supposed to ignore it because you're sensitive about getting older? Because after seeing your mother, I'd completely understand—"
"Rude," interjected Rose, but she grinned. She snuggled deeper under the covers. "Breakfast. Go."
"Back in a tick!" He nearly danced out of the room, still in his jimjams.
Rose rolled over with a tired-but-happy moan. She hadn't celebrated a birthday since her nineteenth. With all the travelling she had done, she sincerely doubted she was only twenty-two. If it was her birthday, she realised, then it was also the two-month anniversary of the Doctor's humanhood.
Life was a lot more fantastic now. Gone were the evenings of watching telly and wishing for the stars. Now that both of them were once again giggly and excited, John had seemed to take it upon himself to take Rose to every museum, theater, restaurant, landmark, and event in London. They visited the British Natural History Museum ("Rose, doesn't that statue look just like you?" "…Nope, not at all, let's look over here…") and the London Zoo ("Stupid apes!" "It's a gorilla, John, it's not going to quote Shakespeare at you."). He took her to the countryside for an entire weekend, just to go stargazing ("Rose, what's that one called?" "Raxacoricofallapatorius." "…You're joshing." "It is!"). Usually, but not always, Jack came along on these outings too, muttering dirty suggestions in Rose's ear when John wasn't paying attention.
And Rose had stopped missing the Doctor, because he was right there with her. She had to think before she spoke, to make sure she wouldn't use one of their many inside jokes that he wouldn't remember, but she saw more of the Doctor in John every day.
Although the breakfast in bed, she thought wryly as John returned with a full breakfast tray, was more John than Doctor.
"Here we are, then! Happy birthday."
Rose eyed the food appreciatively. "Thanks. Loads of food, though. No way I can eat all this."
"Oh, I plan to help." John grinned and slid back into bed next to her, nearly spilling the juice. He stuck his finger into her marmalade and licked it off. "Delicious," he said with relish. He lowered his head towards the breakfast tray. "Well, go on, eat up. It's your birthday breakfast."
Rose smiled, took a fingerful of marmalade, and smeared it down his nose. "Suppose it is."
"You're coming to dinner, right?" asked John as he drove to work. One hand clutched the wheel, the other pressed his mobile to his ear.
On the other end of the phone, Jack sounded cheerful. "Course I am. Unless I'm getting shot at by then. Never know how the day's going to turn out."
John swerved into traffic, missing a collision by centimetres. "Oh, right, with your oh-so-secret government stuff."
"Yeah, with my oh-so-secret government stuff."
"You know, half the time I think you really just work for a hardware store or something and are too ashamed to tell me."
"Oh, right, you caught me. It's a very impressive hardware store, though. We've got stuff from Mars. I ought to show you sometime."
John rolled his eyes even though Jack couldn't see him. "Right, well, assuming the Martian terrorists don't show up, we're having dinner tonight at six—OI, THAT WAS RUDE!" He braked hard, narrowly missing another car.
"You know, Rose will kill you if you crash," Jack said conversationally.
"I'm not going to crash! My driving's perfect!"
"Uh-huh. Right."
"Anyway, so dinner's at six and you're invited, and Rose wants Jackie to come but if you can at all persuade her to stay home, please do."
"Like she'd listen to me…Oh, I've got another call. Looks like I might be getting shot at today after all!"
"And yet still so cheerful. Have fun getting shot at. Nasty weather for it. Have you seen the sky?"
"Have fun wiping students' snotty noses. Bye."
John turned his phone off, parked Bessie crookedly across two parking spaces, and raced inside the Royal Hope. Late again. Why was he always running out of time?
"Bye, Dad, Annalise."
Martha Jones hung up her mobile in exasperation as she walked to work. She was not looking forward to this party tonight. Juggling brother, sister, Mum, Dad, and Dad's mistress? Someone was going to snap, and she had a feeling it would be her mum. And then it would be her job to keep Mum away from Annalise, and how was she supposed to do that?
A voice broke into her thoughts. "Martha Jones!"
Martha turned. Standing there, leaning against the side of a shop, was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He wore a long gray World War II coat and a cocky grin and was swinging a blue paisley tie around his finger.
She hesitated. "Yeah? Who are you?"
His grin only grew, and Martha's thoughts came to a standstill. "I've got a message for you."
"For me?" Every molecule in her body was concentrating on not blushing. Were her knees buckling?
He reached forward, grabbed her hand, and pressed the tie into it. Tingles shot through her skin at his touch.
"Hold onto this, Martha Jones," he said, cocking his eyebrow in a way that made her breathless. "The Doctor wants it back."
Martha nodded blissfully once before realising how bizarre his request was. "Hold on…" She shook herself slightly to regain her senses and looked down at the soft material in her fingers. "But what do I do with it? What doctor? Who are you?"
She looked around, but the man had vanished. The passersby around her continued on through the street, oblivious to what had just occurred.
She ran her finger over the silk tie again in bemusement, then shook her head and shoved it in her pocket. The stress was definitely getting to her.
"The weirdest thing happened to me this morning," said Martha later in the hospital locker room as she put on her lab coat.
Her fellow student, Julia Swales, opened her locker and reached for her own coat. "What, did you shock yourself in the lift? Because I did."
"No, this man—"
"Oh, a man, is it?"
Martha laughed. "Oh, shut up. This man walked up to me and handed me a tie."
"Really? Was it an attractive man?"
"Well…"
"More than Dr. Tyler?"
Martha covered her now-open mouth. "Julia!"
"What? It's not like you haven't been looking!"
Martha lowered her hand to reveal a sheepish grin. "Yeah, but he's my boss. And he's married."
"Not impossible, though!"
Martha's voice took on a sharp tone. "I'm not doing that. I'm not going to be an Annalise."
"Oh…Martha, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's okay. Really. Sorry to snap." Martha shut her locker door. "How about you and Oliver, then?"
Julia sputtered, gripping her own locker door for support. "Me—Me and—"
"Has he asked you out yet?"
Julia shut her locker, trying and failing to hide her blush. "He's not going to."
Martha smirked. "We'll see."
Some tinny notes rang from her pocket, and Martha glanced at her phone. Tish, read the screen.
Martha groaned as she answered, ready to hear a fresh new barrage of complaints about Annalise.
Eight years ago, Mary was half as old as Jane will be when Jane is one year older than Tim will be at that time when Mary will be five times as old as Tim will be two years from now. Ten years from now, Tim will be twice as old as Jane was when Mary was nine times as old as Tim. When Tim was 1 year old, Mary was 3 years older than Tim will be when Jane is three times as old as Mary was 6 years before the time when Jane was 1/2 as old as Tim will be when Mary will be 12 years older than Mary was when Jane was 1/3 as old as Tim will be when Mary will be 3 times as old as she was when Jane was born. How old is Mary?
Rose glanced up from her maths book with a sigh. Even after two months of trying to learn this stuff, she still didn't have a clue how to solve a problem like this.
The Doctor would have known. Probably would have rambled about how easy it was for a full five minutes before telling her the answer.
She smiled, tapped her pencil on her lips thoughtfully, and returned to the problem, brow scrunched in concentration. Maybe she wasn't at the Doctor's level, but she'd certainly come a long way from the girl with no A-levels. She could figure this out.
5(t+2), she wrote.
Her mobile shook and rang on the table. Concentration broken, she shut the book with a yawn and picked up the phone.
"Jack? I'm drowning in numbers here—Please tell me you've got something for us to do."
Jack sounded urgent and out of breath. "Rose, they're here."
Rose sat bolt upright, clutching the phone with white knuckles. "You mean the Family? They found us?"
"It's definitely them. And Rose—they're headed for the hospital."
Rose went pale. "No…"
"I'm headed there right now, but you're closer. I couldn't get a hold of John—"
"I'll get him." Rose shoved herself away from the table, scattering her papers. She yanked a trainer on with one hand.
"Keep that watch shut as long as possible so they don't smell him."
"I know, I know, right." She switched the phone to the other hand and yanked on the remaining trainer. "See you."
She hung up and hit the speed-dial for John, but all she got was his voicemail. "Oh, pick up the phone!" Rose groaned in frustration as she snatched the sonic screwdriver. "You turned it off, you plonker!"
She hung up and stuck both phone and screwdriver in her pocket. Then she grabbed a wad of emergency cash from a box beneath the bed, dashed down the stairs three at a time, and flew out into the street.
"Taxi!" she hollered, waving the money so vigorously that bills drifted onto the pavement.
A cab screeched to a halt in front of her, and Rose climbed into the backseat. "Royal Hope Hospital, go." She threw the cash into the front seat. "Drive!"
Five minutes later, Rose bolted from the cab to the doors of the Royal Hope Hospital.
"Oof!" She slammed into a bloke wearing head-toe-toe black leather. "Sorry!" She dashed around him and into the hospital lobby, all thoughts on finding John.
Above her, the dark clouds gathering over the hospital rumbled.