About this story: Chapter 4 is in the POV of Tentoo. I wanted to take a break from Rose's inner monologue, and take a peak into the Doctor's mind. I'm a little nervous about this one, so let me know if it sounds believable, and if you have any suggestions to improve it. Also there's a lot of Tony Tyler in this chapter! He's so teeny and adorable :D
I welcome reviews and suggestions! This is just a story to fill the whole this sailing ship left in my fangirl heart. Hopefully you enjoy. I'll be adding new chapters sporadically, but often!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to BBC and Doctor Who.
My life has been filled with outstanding and unbelievably wonderful adventures. I've traveled forwards and backwards in Time at the drop of a hat. I have fought battles against creatures I didn't even know the name of, faced enemies with weapons I've never seen, and always I come out victorious. So many things I've been able to do, see, accomplish, and yet I still have not the slightest idea what I'm supposed to do now that I'm part-human.
Living the life of a Time Lord, and a Time Lord without any rules, meant I usually go running right back to the Tardis when things start to get too…slow. I've always hated taking the slow, normal route through life. Now normal, slow, and somewhat boring is the only option I have. I'm stuck with nothing to do, and no one to save. Forced to sit on my arse and wait for…something to happen.
I've been in Pete's World for round about two weeks now. I'm just starting to get the human routines down, but I'm not an expert or anything. Funny, you'd think with all the human companions I've had over the years, a bit of their habits might have rubbed off. Sadly, that's not the case.
I'm sitting at my desk, staring down at a blank piece of paper. Rose suggested I write a list of things I'm good at. A starting off point for job hunting. She claims most of my skills saving the universe should translate pretty easily onto a resume, but an hour and a half of sitting here has me thinking she just might be a little wrong.
I stare at the clock and watch another minute tick away. My mind wanders back to Rose, as it so often does.
Since that first night, Rose hasn't made time to talk with me again. She treats me almost the same as she always has when we're with her family, and she's always holding my hand, but she's made it quite clear she doesn't plan on being alone with me again. I confess, it make me a little lonely. I feel like she doesn't fully accept that I am a man of my own mind, with a life ahead of me that is my own. "The real you," she had called him. The 'real' me? I tap my pen against my desk in thought. I wonder if she just thinks of me as a copy, a clone. I think the only way for her to accept that I am the Doctor, is to show her.
I think back to the kisses we shared that night, too. I think about those kisses a lot more than I think I should, but I can't seem to help it. My human DNA is very primal, and I haven't mastered how to control my emotions all too well.
I remember the feel of her when my hands roamed her back, her sides. I imagine she is smiling as my mouth claims hers, instead of tearful and broken-hearted. I recall her hands, touching my face, running through my hair. I wish I had touched her hair, her face, kissed her longer, and held her tighter. Maybe she would have liked that. Maybe she would've stayed instead of escaping from my presence.
When Rose is near me, I feel strong. From the first moment I held her hand, so long ago—when she was still so young and I had a different face—I felt that having her by my side made my strength endless. I wish I knew how she felt with me beside her.
A soft rapping at my door calls my attention. "Yes?" I answer with a smile already blooming. I know who's come to interrupt me.
"Doctor?" A tiny blonde head of hair peaks its way into view, and then two little brown eyes peer across the room at me, a question burning in them.
"Hello there, Tony!" I stand and meet him at the door, "What's on your mind?"
One good thing to happen over these two weeks of sitting around this mansion is Tony and I have become good friends.
Every day we each take turns teaching the other something new. First, Tony taught me to play make-believe with his toys (which I found was an excellent use of time). Next, I helped Tony learn to tie his tiny trainers by himself (this took almost a full week, but he's very clever).
The chef the Tyler's keep employed, Frederick, taught us how to bake a cake last week, and since gaining mastery of the oven, Tony and I have been baking all kinds of confectionery treats.
"Well…" Tony's little brow furrows, "Can we make biscuits today?"
I ruffle his hair and grin wildly, "Oh, yes, we most certainly can."
We race down to the kitchen. I let Tony win by a margin, and he looks quite pleased with himself. Tony pulls down the recipe book and I grab a large bowl, two aprons, and two spoons. I tie Tony's apron around his waist, and he helps tie mine.
I take the recipe book and flip open to a page we dog-eared the other day as the next thing we were going to try to make. "Peanut-butter biscuits! Do you still want to make these, Chef Tony?"
"Ay, Chef Doctor!" Tony puts his little thumb into the air, and my single heart gives a squeeze. I can't help it; he's too much an adorable little creature.
"Then let us prepare our tray!" I grab the cookie sheet, and Tony grabs the cooking oil from the counter and brings it to me. I oil the sheet quickly, and I smile down at my assistant, "Fetch me the carton of eggs from the fridge, please," I request. I start checking the cupboards for peanut-butter and flour. We both meet back at the bowl with the beginnings of our ingredients.
"Next, dig out the measuring spoons please," I instruct Tony. He opens the silver ware drawer and starts shifting through cutlery, as I gather everything else the book says we'll need.
"Here they are!" Tony exclaims, holding the spoons up proudly.
"There's a good lad," I pullover the step stool that resides tucked under the sink, and Tony and I being measuring in all of our ingredients. "Chef Tony, you are doing a spectacular job, if I say so myself."
"Can I lick the bowl?"
"Of course!" I nudge him lightly with my elbow, "But only if you share."
We take our spoons in hand. "Ready, Chef Tony?"
"Ay, Chef Doctor!"
"Then En Guard!" We both dip our spoons into the bowl and being thrashing about. Tony giggles as our spoons fight inside of the bowl, messily combining all of our ingredients together.
I hear the front door open and I check the kitchen clock. It's only two in the afternoon, but my singular heart starts to pound in anticipation. What if Rose has come home early? I love seeing her, and her being home early gives me more time to see her than usual.
Tony spins on his stool, trying to catch a glimpse of the front door. He looks back at me, and I nod in silent reply. We drop our spoons into the bowl and take off for the parlor.
"Rose!" Tony calls excitedly, rushing into her arms. I fight the urge to do the same, and content myself with watching her embrace Tony for a long moment. She releases him, and smiles in my direction.
"Hello," Rose's eyes glance at my apron and her eyebrows raise, "Are we baking, today?"
"Yes. Peanut-butter biscuits," I smile, "Chef Tony is teaching me all kinds of things."
"Chef Doctor is funny," Tony says, "We gotta go, Rose!" And he tears back to the kitchen.
I linger in the doorway for a moment, just staring at Rose. She's dressed nicely, having spent the day in the Torchwood offices, but her shoulders slump with fatigue. I wish I could relieve her some stress, but I have a feeling she won't want my help.
She catches my eye, and smiles, "You have something on your face."
"Oi," I put my hands on my hips, "It's called handsome and it's a permanent affliction."
Rose walks to me, rolling her eyes, and wipes something from my brow. She shows me the smear on her finger, and then licks it. Rose savors for a minute, then grins up at me, "Peanut-butter!"
My jaw is open, and I can't take my eyes off of her mouth. I know she wasn't trying to be alluring, or sensual, but my cursed primal human instincts are translating her simple actions as such. I clear my throat, ignore the tightening in my trousers, and step slowly away from her.
"I'll come fetch you when the biscuits are finished," I tell her, my voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
Retreating back into the kitchen, I see Tony is thrashing his spoon about the bowl enthusiastically. I step up beside him, "Ah, Chef Tony, fantastic job combining the ingredients."
"Thanks, Chef Doctor!" Tony lifts his spoon from the bowl, taking my praise as a dismissal of action, and begins licking it clean. I give the bowl a final mix with my own spoon and begin dolloping doe onto the cookie sheet. After setting the oven to pre-heat, I step back to the bowl, dip in my finger, and taste the uncooked doe.
"This is heavenly," I exclaim, "Tony, this is brilliant!"
Tony abandons his spoon and reaches into the bowl, taking a fist full of doe and enjoying it thoroughly. "You right, Docta," He mumbles over a mouthful of peanut-butter.
"We are class A Chef's now, Tony," I take another dip in the bowl before surrendering the remains to my tiny assistant.
The oven beeps, letting me know it is to temp, and I place the cookie sheet on the middle rack, set the timer for 20 minutes, and then begin to clean up our mess. Tony takes the bowl to the bar, climbs atop a stool, and continues eating the raw doe, watching as I do the dishes.
I clean the dishes, wipe down the counter, and replace all of our ingredients to roughly the same place they were taken from. I know Frederick will probably have something to say about it, but he seems to have taken a liking to me, so he shan't complain too much.
Tony licks his hands clean, then jumps down from his seat to wash them properly in the sink.
"I can't wait for our biscuits," He tells me. I meet him at the sink and wash my hands with him. "I love cooking, Chef Doctor."
"I love cooking, too, Chef Tony," We dry our hands and make for the dining room table.
"Doctor, can we play Gold Fish?"
I reach deep into my pocket, whip out a deck of cards, and waggle them in front of his face, in way of agreement. Tony sits himself down on the right side of the table, and I sit on the left and deal our cards. Gold Fish is another of Tony's favorites. He's rather good, and has beaten me nearly every time we've played. I stopped letting him win a week ago, and he still has me at ten-to-one odds.
We play until the timer goes ding. "Ding!" I shout, excitedly.
"Ding!" Tony repeats, bouncing up and down in his seat, "Ding! Ding!"
"You know, Tony," I start saying as I pull on the oven mitts, "I used to have a special machine that went ding," I open the oven and pull out the sheet, placing it atop of the oven to cool, "It was a timey-wimey detector. Goes ding when there's stuff. It was quite useful for other things, as well. I even had it set to download music," I turn to face him, "I have too much time on my hands."
"Why didn't I ever see this machine?" Rose walks from the back of the kitchen, entering from the backyard and startling me beyond belief, "And what do you mean 'goes ding when there's stuff?'"
"Well," I lean back on the counter, admiring her change in clothes a moment longer than necessary (tight jeans and a loose t-shirt that says some name I don't know), before answering, "It's something I made after we were…uh, separated. Right. Yes," I wave a hand over the biscuits, "Biscuits ready. I'm going to let Jackie and Pete know. They're always excited for fresh cuisine."
"Doctor?" Rose calls softly, as I am now dashing towards the dining room, "Could I ask you something? A bit later?"
I nod, biting my lip so as not to point out that she had just asked me something, just now, but that might be a bit annoying. My human DNA seems more apt at social cues, things I could never quite read before. I turn on my heal and make way for the den, where I know Pete will be.
The hidden door under the stairs is only opened by a series of knocks. Fortunately, Tony showed me the knock last Thursday, so I enter without problem, walk down the twisty stairs and am greeted with a second door. This one only opens from the inside, unless you have a key code, which Tony sadly couldn't teach to me.
"Pete!" I bang a fist on the large, metal door, "Tony and I fixed biscuits for tea time! Come up when you're ready, alright?" I hear a muffled reply, and exit the way I came. I try not to think about how I'm slowly but surely becoming a regular house-wife, complete with baking and tea times.
To my surprise, Rose is waiting for me in the parlor.
"Oh, hello there," I walk to her and stop a few feet away, keeping my distance.
She smiles warmly to me, "Hello. Mum was outside. I told her about your biscuits."
"Ah. Right. Good." I shove my hands into my pockets. My jean pockets. I haven't been shopping yet, which Jackie says she keeps meaning to do, but I keep finding a way to weasel out of. I can't go shopping with Jackie. She's…well, she's Jackie. So my wardrobe consists of baggy jeans and baggy shirts donated by Pete, graciously. I'm swimming in them, and I miss my tight fitting suits, but I haven't felt like complaining too much about it. I'm afraid it'll send Jackie on a roll straight to the shop.
"Could I, uh," Rose fiddles with her hands for a moment, collecting her thoughts, I suppose. I furrow my brow, because she must be feeling just as awkward as I do. There's been a lot of that as of late.
"Yes?" I prompt, taking a teensy step in her direction.
"Well." She sighs, and I see something switch in her eyes as she stows away one question and grabs desperately for another, "I've been meaning to ask if you wanted to go get some new clothes?"
I hold her gaze for a moment, hopefully letting her know I caught her changing gears, and answer, "Yes. Oh, yes, I would love that."
She grins, sticking her tongue out through her teeth in that way she always used to. Been a while since I've seen that smile.
"Doctor, can I eat now?" Tony appears at my side almost instantly. Usually I hear his approach a mile off, but I must be too distracted.
Rose's hand brushes my arm as I turn to follow Tony back to the kitchen. I freeze in place for a millisecond, slowly processing her touch. I turn to look at her, and she's still smiling at me. "Would you like to head to the shop tomorrow? I have the whole day off of work."
My head shakes viciously in affirmative, and my face hurts I'm grinning so broadly at her. "It's a date."
I say the words without thinking. I didn't mean to say that. What if she gets upset? She said that night at the hotel was a date, but maybe she's the only one who can declare something like that? My brain goes blank, and my eyes widen a fraction.
Rose's smile falls, but her eyes stay bright. She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine, "Yeah. It's a date."
"A floral shirt? Rose, be a bit considerate of my own personal taste."
Rose laughs a little and places the offensive garment back on the rack. I've been put in charge of pushing the trolley, which has quite a few items within. I picked out a new blue suit, and a couple pair of trouser, while Rose has placed a few t-shirts with faded signs on them that I don't recognize. She says they're the alternate universe names for bands I've expressed interest for in the past.
"I'm not sure. What else will I need?" I look to Rose and she nods behind me. I turn and blanch, "Oh, Lord. Right." We're beside the underwear rack, and I feel my face flush for absolutely no reason. Bollocks human genes are terrible. I grab a pack of plain printed somethings and toss them in the trolley, eager to be away from this horrible place, but Rose reaches in and picks up the package.
"Oi!" I exclaim, reaching for them, "Hands off my knickers!"
"You're a briefs man, then, are you?" Rose steps away as I reach for them and her smile is mocking, "Are you sure you want these? They're rather plain! I would have thought you'd want some pretty prints, maybe get a special one made with little banana's all over, eh?"
My face must be close to bursting to flame with embarrassment. I shove my hands in my pockets and glare at her. "Place the undergarments in the trolley, Rose, and let us move on."
"Oh, alright," She throws them in, laces her arm around mine, and pushes us through the isle to the dressing room. Rose's arm slides slowly down until her hand laces with mine, and my flushed face grows a bit warmer, but not from embarrassment. I tighten my hand around hers, and smile stupidly over at her. She is so breathtakingly lovely I can barely stand it. I want to stay beside her forever.
Rose meets my gaze, "Well then, Doctor. It's time for the fashion show."
"Eh?"
She releases me, gathers up the clothes from the trolley, and walks to the woman behind the counter. "Eight items, ma'am," Rose tells her, "For the handsome gentleman in the baggy trousers."
"Right-o, this room is empty," The woman takes a card that has the number eight printed on it, and hangs it on a door knob, "Take your time."
I make for the room, thinking about how Rose has just called me handsome, and take the bundle of clothing from Rose's arms.
"When you try on something new, come out so I can see it, alright?"
"But, why?"
"So I can tell you if it looks good or not!" She sounds exasperated, but her smile is genuinely sweet.
"I think I could tell that by myself," I say, just because I love this bantering we're doing. Feels like old times.
"Yes, right, you are capable of dressing yourself. But I still want to see it all, thank you."
I turn into the room and shut the door. First I try on the new blue suit I picked out. It's tight in all the right places, and a darker shade than my other one. I put on one of the colorful shirts Rose picked out, slip into the coat, and exit. "What do you think?" I ask, giving a turn, "It's a nice one, eh?"
Rose is sitting down on a bench beside the dressing rooms, reading a magazine. She looks up and stops for a second to stare. I grin devilishly.
"You like it?"
She sticks her tongue out in a smile and nods, "Oh, yes," her eyes trail up and down my body, and a shiver follows her eyes, as if they were physically touching me. She meets my gaze with a wider smile, "Next one, now. Move along."
Next I try on a pair of jeans and another shirt. These trousers are tighter than my suit pants—which is saying something—so I'm not too sure I'll be keeping them. I step out, and Rose looks up from the magazine with fascination, but freezes with a look of awe on her face. I decide the jeans will stay.
"Oh," is the only syllable to escape her perfect, pink lips.
"I love those!" The woman working behind the dressing counter exclaims, "Those jeans are perfect. Where did you find those? I'll get some for my husband."
Now I see Rose's face flush, but she bites her lip and tells the woman where to find another pair as I slip back into the changing room.
My other trousers fit like a dream, two made of cotton and tweed combination, and the last being a slightly looser pair of jeans. I like all the t-shirts Rose picked out, even if I'm not too sure what bands they reference quite yet.
As we make for the checkout line, Rose sees something and takes off, leaving me alone and looking like an idiot. She rushes back, something big, black, and leather in her hands. "Try this on really quickly," she instructs, taking the garment off the hanger. I oblige, pulling the item on.
It's a leather jacket, made longer in the torso, with several pockets. A light bulb goes off as I admire it and I look at Rose in astonishment. "It's almost exactly the same." I know I don't need to finish my thought. I can tell she's thinking the same thing.
She glances up from appraising the jacket to look into my eyes, and everything stops for a long moment. It is just Rose and I, standing with each other like we always were meant to. Her smile is soft, and her eyes are full of emotion. I smile down at her, watching her pink lips open as she starts to speak.
"Sometimes," Rose pauses to take a shaky breathe and continues, "Sometimes I miss him; the you I met first. The one with the big ears, the goofy grin. He was so full of emotion and he was so lonely. And sometimes I can see him, peaking out through your eyes," Her hand brushes my cheek and I hold my breath, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment. "It is still you, isn't it," Her voice is barely a whisper, and I strain to hear it.
"Next!" The cashier calls, breaking into our bubble of perfection. I turn to see the perpetrator and the man gives me a bored expression, "I can help you over here, if you like."
I push the trolley over, slip out of the jacket so the fiend running the register can scan it, and wait patiently as Rose pays the man. Gathering the bags in one hand, I reach for Rose with the other, and we make our way back to the car.
Rose drives us out of the parking lot and we begin making our way home again. The radio is on a low volume, so as not to disturb conversation, but I'm content to sit in silence. I have Rose's left hand in mine, which she steals for use occasionally, but always returns it to its rightful place.
It's all pleasant and quiet, but then a song starts to play, and I can't help my reaction. My head whips to stare at the radio, and I turn the volume up as the beat starts to get stronger. "No way. No bloody way!"
Rose gives me a smile, "I know!"
"The Proclaimers! I'm Gonna Be! Rose this is…it's fantastic!" I start bobbing my head to the beat, getting ready to sing along, but I stop because I can hear there is something…wrong.
The lyrics are a little different than I'm used to. The music is essentially the same, at its core, and as the song comes to the chorus it's exactly the same as I recall, but I notice a distinct change in lyric in each verse.
"It's a bit odd," I say, off hand.
Rose nods, "Yes. You'll notice that with loads of songs," she turns the volume down a tick, "And this isn't The Proclaimers. Here, they're named The Exclaimers. Most bands here have different names than we're used to. Some bands I loved were never even created in this universe. I find it a bit sad, really, but that's part of the curse of Pete's world."
"Ah, I see. Well, it's to be expected," I lean back in my seat and trace circles into Rose's hand with my thumb, "Parallel universe, bound to have loads of little differences. And big ones, too. President of England, flying zeppelin's instead of airplanes. I wonder what other quirks we'll be able to find."
"When we start traveling you'll notice loads more," Rose states. We turn off the road and into the long driveway that leads to the Tyler Estate. She glances sidelong at me before she says, "Well, I mean, if you would like to go traveling. I did mention we should go traveling sometime. If you wanted to."
"Is…is that what you wanted to ask me yesterday?"
Rose smirks and nods. "Yeah. Sort of. I've been thinking a lot, you know, especially since we've gotten into routine, and it's just. Well. I feel too cramped in this house with Mum, and Dad, and Tony, and everything. Don't you?" She pulls up to the house and parks the car, turning in her seat to look me full in the face.
I shrug, wondering where her train of thought will lead, "It's a bit much. But there's never a dull moment."
"Well. Yeah," She tilts her head in question, "But I don't want to live with my parents forever. And it would be nice to have a little peace, wouldn't it?"
My gut starts to clench as my mind starts piecing together where she must be going. "Oh. I see."
"An apartment in the city would be nice. It wouldn't have too much expense, and I'd be closer to work."
I nod, my eyes dropping to our hands still entwined on the console between us. She wants to leave. She wants to get out of this house, get away from me, and live on her own. "So, what were you thinking? You want to move out and then go traveling together?"
"Actually," Rose's voice sounds full of excitement, "I thought we could go traveling and then get an apartment. I think it would be a good transition, don't you? We'd both get out of the house for a bit; see the world a little, and then when we come home again all our things will be in boxes already. And we'd get to be…us.Just Rose and the Doctor, together, like it should be."
"Wait, but," I lift my eyes to hers, hopeful, "You, uh, you want to get an apartment…with me? To live in…together?"
Rose blanches, her eyes go wide and her mouth falls into a frown, "I wasn't trying to be presumptuous or anything. I just, you know, assumed that we'd…well that you'd want to move in together. I know our relationship hasn't really gone anywhere. I know I haven't let anything move forward between us, but…I mean we're in the same house as my Mum. I don't want to have to worry she's just outside the door, listening in or something," Her face turns bright red, "I mean, there are other factors, of course. And I'm not saying that we'd be doing anything she'd want to listen in on. Oh Lord, I'm not saying we'd be doing anything at all! I just can't stop talking, and you're looking at me like I'm daft, and it was only a thought, we don't have to do anything if it's too domestic for you"—
My lips silence hers. I can't help but smile as my mouth covers hers in a kiss that hopefully translates as a resounding yes! My hands reach for her face, and I try to press a bit closer to her. I breathe against her, a sigh of relief, as I feel her hands tug my shirt. She jolts forward, pressing into me, and I chuckle softly against her lips.
Rose smells like sunshine and beauty and lilacs. Our mouths push and pull together, and I let my hands wander to her hair. It is unbelievably soft. I hold her head, tilt it a little, and our kiss grows more passionate.
She murmurs against my mouth, her hands brushing against my face. I love when she touches me. I feel like my heart might explode whenever her skin touches mine. She pulls away for breath, but I'm not done kissing her, so I let out an exasperated sigh.
I hear her giggle and she pulls herself against me once more, her kiss sweet and soft. I don't think I'll ever have enough of her kisses, even if we were to spend the rest of our lives embraced like this.
"Doctor," She murmurs against my lips, "Doctor."
I don't know if she's trying to say something else, but hearing her voice sends a shiver down my spine. My hands find her shoulders and I pull her impossibly closer. I use more force than necessary, and nearly pull her into my lap.
"Owp," Rose fumbles, pulling away from me, "My arse is now in the steering wheel."
"Oh," My hands slide from her shoulders down her arms and to her hands. She's leaning heavily against me, her hands resting on my chest and her arms locked so her torso is separated from mine. "Sorry," I say, "I've, uh, well, I've never snogged in a car before."
Her head throws back and she laughs aloud. I love her laugh. I'll do anything to make her laugh like this. She sits back in her seat and looks over at me. Her hair is disheveled; her lips and cheeks flushed, and her eyes look hungry. Before she says anything I lean forward and steal a kiss, then rest back in my seat once more.
Rose runs her hands over her hair and shoots me a smile. "Doctor, you will be the death of me."
"I'll try not to be," I reply. She slips out of the car, and I jump out as well. I meet her at the hood, wrap my arms around her waist, and pull her into a tight hug. "Rose," I murmur into her hair, "Rose, I would love to go traveling. I would love to get an apartment with you. I want nothing more than to be domestic with you, as long as you have no objection to being horribly domestic with me."
Her arms wrap around me, her hands stroke my neck. She fits her head in the space where my neck meets my shoulder, and her lips brush my skin as she murmurs in reply, "I wouldn't want any of this with anyone but you, Doctor."
We pull apart and smile at each other, all hopeful and excitement. I love this woman. I love her with everything I am, and I will love her until my single, human heart stops beating. We gather the bags from the trunk of the car and head inside, hands entwined together as if they will never have reason to part.
*There's the end of chapter 4. They get longer and longer each time! I'll try to be a tad more consistent. Not sure who's POV chapter 5 will be in, but I know I'll only be switching between Rose and Tentoo's! Review if you so wish. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Next update is on the way!