A/N: I didn't make up the part below about the TARDIS coral; they actually filmed it as scripted here, then deleted it as too distracting from the main story. You can find it in the Extras on the DVDs, or occasionally on the internet.
Turquoise
Rose slowly drifted up from a deep, restoring slumber, to find herself in her new favorite position – lying at Corin's side, her head on his shoulder, legs entangled, his arm wrapped around her and resting on her hip. She shifted slightly to peer through her eyelashes at the bedside clock – 6:30 am – and smiled: habit.
She could feel that she'd slept herself out. Suddenly, she realized that her mind was clear – free of the fog of shock and pain that had dogged her since Bad Wolf Bay. Her mind flew to the day before, sobbing wildly on Corin's shoulder. Now I know the meaning of the word 'catharsis'. The wound in her soul was still there, raw and red, but the poison had been leeched, washed away by the storm of tears, and she thought perhaps it might heal eventually after all. She thought fleetingly of Corin's explanation of the Doctor's mysterious about-face: the paralyzing fear of impending, inevitable loss – but then decided she didn't want to ruin this morning's lovely clean mood. She'd meditate on that another day, when she was better prepared to face it.
She lifted her head to smile at her lover, expecting to find him anxiously waiting for her to wake up, and instead received another shock: he was sound asleep. This is the first time I've seen him sleep since... since he regenerated into this face. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she levered herself up on her elbow to study him, re-committing every line to memory after three long years of only an increasingly hazy mental image to sustain her. He looked older than she remembered. Tired. Careworn. Oh, my love, what have you been through? You need cosseting.
She put her head back down on his chest and listened to his single heartbeat, breathing with him, then his words telling her about it on that frightful day came bubbling up in her memory.
–– "I've only got one heart. I'm part human. Specifically, the aging part. I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life, Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you... if you like." ––
A tiny smile teased the corner of her mouth at the way he'd tried to hide his desperate desire for that life together with her behind those thrown-away last words and that little nonchalant shrug. It struck her then for the first time what it all must truly mean for him. No more regenerating. A finite life. The prospect, after 900 years of endless youthful vigor, of actually aging, growing old and perhaps feeble, and eventually dying, truly dying. Gone, poof, no more. A single lifetime.
And he wanted to spend it with her.
How could anything ever possibly be more precious than that?
Her sweet smile faltered and died away, as she remembered what else he'd lost. The TARDIS. His entire lifestyle of endless timehopping, travel and adventure – and running. Lots of running. He's not the only one who lost that. I lost it, too. She knew that it hadn't just been the man she'd been searching so desperately for; she had wanted that life back, too. Now here we both are, stuck on the slow path. (A corner of her mind wondered when he'd started using that term, but couldn't remember.)
Snap out of it, Rose. Humans have managed to have tons of adventures their entire existence – it doesn't depend on time travel - Her own thoughts stopped dead, then, as what happened next on the beach hit her forcefully. She flinched away from the memory of the Doctor's fake-casual words coming from behind her, feeling like a knife in her back, but then focused on the words themselves and what they represented.
–– "Oh, and don't forget this. This universe is in need of defending. Chuck of TARDIS. Grow your own." And he'd tossed a small, organic-looking lump of coral into Corin's startled hands.
"But that takes thousands of years!" Corin had protested.
"No, because - "
Donna had broken in then, astounding everyone yet again with the knowledge she shouldn't have had. "If you shatterfry the plasmid shell, and modify the dimensional stabilizer to a foldback harmonic of thirty-six-point-three, you accelerate the growth power by fifty-nine."
Stifling a grin at Donna, The Doctor had turned back again, twisting the knife in Rose's heart even as he'd tried to be kind. "The Doctor, in the TARDIS, with Rose Tyler. Just as it should be." ––
Rose held her breath for a moment, tamping down the stab of pain and forcing it back behind the door labeled Doctor, then made herself think about that lump now sitting innocently on the dresser, looking like a South Sea souvenir. If Corin can get it to grow into a new TARDIS, who knows what might happen? Then an idea struck her, and another and another, and she smiled again, safely past the stabbing heartache once more, and began making plans.
^..^
Later that morning, during breakfast, Rose suddenly fixed Corin with a solemn gaze. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gallifrey, but I must inform you that the time has come."
Thoroughly mystified, and a bit apprehensive – he couldn't see any glint of humor in her eyes – he merely cocked an eyebrow at her.
Pointing her finger at his chest, she intoned, "YOU need new clothes!"
His face fell. "Noooooooo! Not shopping! You're killing me, woman!"
"Well, you certainly can't wear that one suit the rest of your life. It'll fall apart in no time!" She took pity on him and took his hand, smiling. "I promise, I'll make this as quick and painless as possible. Just give me three hours."
"Three! Are you nuts? Two!"
"Done!" she said, so quickly that he knew he'd been had. He groaned again and she grinned at him, so infectiously he couldn't help but grin back.
"First, however, we need to go to the office."
"Torchwood? What for?"
"Let me put it this way. You wouldn't happen to have that slightly-psychic paper in your pocket, would you?"
"Uh, no. I seem to have left it in my other – ah, suit."
"Well, then. You can't get too far in this world without some ID. Since Torchwood doesn't have an ID branch, that means I get to call Lord Cutler. He's head of British Intelligence, and a right pompous, greedy ass. But, we'll have to go through him to get you fixed up."
"Shouldn't whoever's running Torchwood do that?"
She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows. It took a second, but he got it.
"YOU'RE running Torchwood?"
"Yup," she said, with pop. "Why, don't you think I can?"
"Nope," with an answering pop. "I know how brilliant you are."
She beamed. "Keep sweet-talking me like that, mister, and you might just turn my head."
"I sincerely hope so." He leaned over and kissed her soundly, as if hoping she might get distracted enough to forget the whole shopping thing. No such luck.
As they were putting the dishes into the sink, she stopped and put her hand on his arm. "Corin, I want to apologize to you for yesterday. Especially for going off on you, and the bloody awful things I said about Donna. I didn't mean them. I was just... hurting so badly, and I lashed out. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about what's happened to her. Are you sure that he had to... take it all away?"
"Yes. I wish there was something I could do, could have done, but there's nothing and never was. You just can't put a Time Lord mind into a human brain. It never works."
"I'm so sorry." She pulled him into her arms and hugged him, and then forced herself to make the confession. "Truth be told, I was jealous of her. Not because she was leaving with him - well, not just because of that - but because she was the center of the universe for the time, and I wasn't." She grimaced. "Not very pretty of me, was it?"
"Perhaps not. But very human."
She looked up at him, startled, then leaned back, considering him. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "time was, that would have been an insult, coming from you. Now it doesn't sound like one." She grinned. "I think I could get to like this side of you."
He grinned back, and let it go.
^..^
A short time later they hailed a cab and headed for Canary Wharf. As the cab pulled up in front of One Canada Square, Corin remarked, "Never thought I'd be able to walk back inside this building so calmly."
She smiled sympathetically and took his arm. "It took me a while, too. But the memories have been painted over. You'll see."
They entered the front doors and were greeted courteously by several men in security uniform. "Good morning, Miss Tyler." "Good morning!"
She walked Corin over to the main desk, and told the guard behind it, "This is Corin Gallifrey; he'll be joining us permanently. I'll send his info down soon; in the meantime, please get his prints?"
Corin found himself giving up thumb, palm, and retina prints, then they passed through the gates and went to the private elevator off to the side. Stepping inside, Corin noticed there were only a few buttons, one prominently marked PTI, another, less obtrusively, marked Torchwood. As Rose punched the Torchwood button, he gestured towards the other. "Pete's here, too?"
"Yeah. In this world, it was being built for Lumic's headquarters before that whole mess; Dad inherited it with the rest of Cybus. It was still mostly empty when – when Mum and I got here. PTI really took off after that, and he moved in to his floors, making room for Torchwood, as well, since they helped clean up the Cybermen on this side. He took over the Institute and set it up right, and then I went to work for them, and I guess 'the Boss' liked how I handled things, because last year he pulled out altogether to an unofficial overseer role and left me in charge."
While she was explaining, the lift had taken them smoothly up a couple dozen floors, and dinged them out into a sleek, if rather empty, lobby, with a few secured doors leading off in various directions. Only one door was marked, with a plain brass plate proclaiming "Torchwood Institute". Rose walked over to it and put her palm against the reader beside it; the reader gave a few R2D2-like beeps and the door whooshed smoothly open. She gestured for Corin to proceed her, and he stepped through the door, puzzled, then halted as he came face-to-face with a large, simple but arresting bronze plaque on the wall opposite the door; the only item in the bare white room.
Torchwood Institute
Est. 1879
To protect and defend
Mankind and the Earth
No conquests
No casualties
No sacrifices
No compromises
Behind him, Rose said softly, "You like my plaque?"
He turned. "Your plaque?"
"Yes. I had it made special." She came around to stand beside it, suddenly all business. "And no one who wants to come work for me makes it one step past this room without impressing me that they understand every word. It's not an oath, or a promise. It's a statement of fact. This is how it is in my Torchwood. Live it, or go home."
Eyes wide, he looked from her back to the plaque, reading the last words again. No sacrifices, no compromises. He nodded slowly, awestruck at the implications.
Suddenly she grinned at him. "You pass. Come on." Leading him to a side door he hadn't noticed before, they entered a spacious corporate-style front office, with several large modern modular workspaces off to the right cluttered with the usual files, papers, books, computers, copiers, etc. Rose waved a friendly hand at the cheerful greetings of the several occupants, and turned to the woman seated behind the front desk.
"Congratulations, Marcie, you get to be the first at Torchwood to meet my fiancé, Corin Gallifrey. Corin, this is Marcie, my right hand and arm, and probably leg; the rock upon which Torchwood stands, without whom none of us would ever get a single thing accomplished, and the world would come to a screeching halt – is that thick enough?"
Marcie smiled gaily, "That will do for this morning! But, Rose – fiancé?" The others from the office came swirling around, and Corin was introduced to all, sure he'd not remember any names other than Brennan, who came out of one of the attached private offices marked Assistant Director. Finally, Rose shooed them all away and took Corin into her own office, marked Director this time; a well-appointed affair quite as cluttered and obviously well-used as the outer offices. She waved him into a chair in front of the desk.
"Now you sit there out of range of the camera, and be quiet, while I lie my ass off to Lord Cutler."
"Oh, don't do that. I like your ass just the way it is."
She gave him a wicked grin, then pulled a strange, complex, miniature clockwork contraption off a nearby shelf and put it on her desk, flicking its tiny switch on. It was a busy little thing, full of gears and lights, with tiny beeps and whistles emanating from it, even a tiny puff of smoke.
"What in the world is that?"
She grinned again. "Distraction." Turning to her computer screen, she turned it slightly so he could see it – still out of camera range, though – and then punched up Lord Cutler's number. She leaned over the distraction and began poking at it with a tiny screwdriver while she got past the secretary, then looked up and smiled broadly at the sour-faced man who filled the screen. "Lord Cutler! Good morning! How's the spy business?"
Lord Cutler was not amused by her informal levity. "What can I do for you, Miss Tyler?"
She leaned towards the screen, conspiratorial. "I'm about to do something illegal, and I need your help."
He looked startled, then condescending. "And what illegal act could you possibly be contemplating?"
Gleefully: "I'm about to steal someone."
"You're into kidnapping now?"
She looked playfully puzzled. "Is it kidnapping if they come willingly? No, it's not that. There's a certain scientist I know of, working for... the competition, let's just say. He found himself in a place he hated, working on a project he abhored, for people he detested. The perfect trifecta. So I made him an offer he couldn't refuse..."
"And now you need help, ah, extracting him?"
"No, he's already here. What he needs, though, is a new identity. And that's where you come in. You have an ID branch, I don't."
Cutler had looked a bit disappointed that all she needed was ID, but then another thought visibly crossed his mind. He grinned wolfishly. "It's going to cost you."
"What could I possibly have that could interest you?"
The wolfish grin sharpened, in for the kill. "Your transporter device."
She looked genuinely puzzled, now. "My 'transporter device'? I don't have any such thing."
"Of course you do. It's how you got from your office to Bergen, Norway not three days ago."
Rose gave an audible gasp, jaw dropping. Cutler's triumph immediately slid into confusion, however, when she crowed with obvious delight, "Your man lost me!" She gave a throaty laugh, channeling Annette Bening in Valmont for all she was worth. "Oh, this is delicious! I gave your agent the slip, and now he's come up with this ridiculous story to cover his rear. Oh, somebody's in trouble!" The last was a little singsong.
Cutler had been working up a full head of irritation. "Oh, don't be tiresome, Miss Tyler. You know perfectly well that I know your Doctor Capella has been working on it for years. Don't deny it."
Still smiling, she waved dismissively. "Of course I don't deny it. What I do deny is that it's working." Now that the walls have closed again, she added to herself.
"Doctor - "
She cut him off. "Dottore Cappelini," pronouncing the Italian name perfectly, "has never sent so much as a Wonka bar across the room, let alone a human being from London to Norway." No, he sent me across dimensions. "However, he does spout off enough other brilliant ideas -" she gestured towards the distraction, which obligingly whistled and puffed. "- on a regular enough basis to make the maintenance on his little hobby well worth it."
"Now," she said, haring off on a tangent, "what's his name?"
Thoroughly confused, tearing his eyes from the distraction: "What? Who?"
"Your agent, the one who's been tailing me for the last six months. I want his name."
"I don't have - "
"Oh, don't be tiresome, Lord Cutler." She snapped, echoing him. She reached for a postcard-sized electronic photo frame on her desk and started clicking through the pics. "He's a meter seventy, eighty kilos, light brown hair – usually, and sometimes looks like... this." She had found the pic she wanted, and held it up to the camera. "Tell him from me he looks better with the mustache, but that fedora's simply got to go. It practically screams 'spy'." She dropped the frame and went on. "His name, Lord Cutler. I don't care if it's a code name, I'm just tired of calling him Shadow." She waited.
Cutler was bug-eyed with suppressed outrage. "Sykes." He finally growled.
Rose smiled sweetly at him again. "Thank you. Tell Sykes the next time he catches me at Torchwood North, I'll take him inside and give him the fifty-cent tour. Is that worth a passport and a birth certificate?"
Cutler punched – a little viciously – a button on his phone. When a male voice answered, he growled, "Charlie, I'm sending you a call from Miss Tyler at Torchwood. She needs some ID work." He punched the button again without waiting for Charlie's answer, then said gruffly, "Good day, Miss Tyler." and the punched his screen off.
Rose stabbed the hold button quickly before collapsing onto the desk with a gleeful howl. "Oh, GOD, that was fun!"
During the entire conversation, Corin's grin had been getting bigger and bigger, and now he was convulsed with laughter, as well. "You are bloody BRILLIANT!"
"And every word was the truth!"
"But won't it be a problem, showing the agent through Torchwood North?"
"Where?"
Corin howled again, realizing how thoroughly the 'Intel' chief had been routed.
Glancing again at the screen, Rose managed to calm down. "There's Charlie. Hush. Quick, now, can you manage just a hint of an off-world accent, something that'll drive them mental trying to figure it out?"
"Ah, no proble'!", he replied, gargling the R and losing the M.
She turned the vid phone back on send. "Charlie! How's my favorite forger?"
"I'm good, Miss Rose, but I do hope I'm the only forger you know," said the curly-mopped redhead.
"Um, do I have to answer that?"
"Nope. Never ask a lady to lie. Now, what can I do for you?"
Rose sat Corin down in her seat so Charlie could capture a couple of pictures through the vid phone, removing his tie and ruffling his hair in between, then sat on the arm while Corin spelled out his new name, and they came up with the fake details of his birth. He glanced slyly at her as he gave his mother's name as "Donna Nobel Gallifrey", and she murmured "I am so going to kill you," but she was smiling as she said it, so he figured he was safe. To get him back, she gave his father's name as "Mickey Gallifrey", and he groaned.
When all was done, Charlie asked, "These will be ready in about an hour. Shall I send them over to your office?"
Rose replied, "No, we're leaving soon. By that time we should be at Barrons – top floor. Can you send them there?"
"No problem! And Miss Rose, next time you need something, dial me direct. Extension 53. No need to go through the 'old man'."
She thanked him sincerely, and they signed off. Rose began laughing again. "Did you see how he kept glancing at you every time you spoke? That was perfect! What kind of accent was that, anyway?"
He grinned. "Gallifreyan."
She spluttered appreciatively, then she playfully gave him a push. "Now give me my desk back so I can play Boss Lady. Give me just half an hour to put out any fires, and we're off."
He moved off and went to lean unobtrusively against the wall out of the way, as she tapped the intercom. "Marcie, Brennan, and anybody else out there: you have five minutes each."
Over the course of the next 35 minutes, Corin became more and more amazed at this incredible woman. She was in her element, obviously loving the administration – and also obviously, she was very, very good at it. She handled two minor crises; made a number of operating decisions, postponing two others until they could give her a full briefing; got updates on the status of major projects; and OK'd a personnel transfer and three purchase orders, juggling the budget a bit to allow them - all with the ease of a seasoned exec twice her age.
As the other supplicants left, Brennan leaned back in his chair and said, "That leaves just Project Seeker." He glanced around at Corin, then as movement at the doorway caught his eye, slid around and smiled. "Perfect timing."
Rose and Corin both followed his glance, then, "Dottore!" cried Rose, jumping up from her chair and walking towards the elegant silver-haired, lab-becoated gentleman – that was obviously the only proper term – just entering the office, stretching out both hands to him. He took them, then kissed both her cheeks, continental style.
"Bellissima Rosa! You have returned safely. I was worried Tuesday when the Cannon stopped giving any readings, but then I heard your father had flown to Norway to retrieve you."
"Yes. And Mum. What were you thinking, letting her come after me?" Mock exasperation.
"The wise man knows never to step between the tigress and her cub – even when the cub is a grown tigress herself." He smoothly changed the subject. "Mickey did not return with you?"
"No, he elected to stay in the other universe. But I did bring someone else." Turning, she led the Dottore over to Corin. "Corin, this is Dottore Marco Cappelini, the inventor of the Reality Cannon that sent me to you. Dottore, my fiancé, Corin Gallifrey, formerly known as the Doctor."
The two men shook hands, greeting each other. Then Corin, correctly taking Rose's revealing introduction of him as his cue that this man was to be trusted with the truth, explained again that he wasn't the Doctor, but half-human clone created in a freak accident, original memories intact. Interesting how that line is getting smoother and easier to say.
The Dottore's eyebrows shot up. "Affascinante!" he murmured. Then he peered at Rose and said, quietly, "Not quite the fish you went after, though, no?"
"No," she said proudly, putting her arm through Corin's, "but in the end, the much better catch." Without giving him time to react, she turned slightly, widening the circle to include Brennan still sitting in his chair before the desk, then returned to ask the Dottore, "You said the Cannon stopped giving readings?"
"Corretto. As of Tuesday, niente, nothing. Only the ghosts of our own universe."
"Well, then, that's that. The walls between realities are closed again." She sighed, clutching Corin's arm just a little tighter. "Project Seeker is officially over. Put the Cannon into monitor standby mode, make sure the alarms are set to alert us if the walls open again, and close the book. And, Dottore..." She reached her other hand towards him again, adding with quiet, sincere significance, "Thank you."
He took her hand, gave her a small, courtly bow, and released it again to turn and walk out of the office. Brennan gave her a small salute and followed, closing the door behind him and leaving the two to their thoughts.
After a moment, Corin and Rose turned to each other, and each smiled softly as they realized they were sharing the same images of doors closing. The office door. Doors between universes. Other doors, other places. A wooden blue door, fading away to nothing.
Leaving empty sand, and two shattered lives to rebuild.