About this story: Here is chapter 5. The Doctor and Rose are heading out on a trip towards discovery! Or some other cliche nonsense. Really, they're heading to Paris, France! Bound to be some fun times, right? We'll be going to two other destinations, mentioned within this chapter. This is a bit of a filler chap, so forgive me for that. More substance and plot forthcoming, promise!
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.
Mum, the Doctor, and myself stand in the airport. This is the first day of mine and the Doctor's next big adventure, and we're getting the goodbye's out of the way rather slowly, for my taste.
As Mum names off items we should have checked off on some bloody list she made us, I let my eyes drift towards the Doctor. I appreciate every aspect of his outfit; tight jeans, loose button down, the leather jacket I picked out. His hair is a bit longer than he usually keeps it, but still sticking up in all directions. All I want to do is get going, so I tune in and listen as Mum brings her speech to a close.
"Alright, now, you two be safe. Don't go out alone, don't do anything dangerous. Stay together, don't lose your passports, and keep ahold of your luggage! Am I forgetting something?"
"Yes, Mum," I wrap my arms around my mother's shoulders and pull her into a hug, "Breathe. I love you; we'll be back in a few weeks."
We pull apart and Mum is teary-eyed. "Oh, Rose, I know I should be used to you jetting off, but I'm always going to be your mother first. Just be safe."
The Doctor swoops in and hugs Mum tight, "Oh, Jackie, I'll be sure she doesn't get into any mischief."
"Bloody lot of good that does me," Mum moans into the Doctor's shoulder as she hugs him, "Your sense of mischief and mine are two completely different things!"
"At least we're staying on Earth this time 'round," The Doctor says in a reassuring way. He pulls away from Mum to peck her on the cheek, "I'll keep her safe, Jackie. I promise."
We all look up when a voice goes out over the airport intercom; "All boarding flight 203 to Paris. All boarding flight 203 to Paris."
"That's us, Mum!" I pick up my suitcase and kiss her cheek, "Send our love to Dad and Tony. See you all in three weeks!"
The Doctor takes up his suitcase and grabs my hand. We rush through security, turning to wave one last time to Mum before we race to our gate. Our boarding passes in hand, we step into the line for boarding and I sigh with relief.
The Doctor crushes me to his side. He is positively shaking with excitement, "Rose I can't believe we're actually doing it!"
I wrap an arm around his waist and squeeze, "Me either!"
We made the arrangements for our trip quickly last week. After the decision was made, we were both eager to jet off on a new adventure together. The Doctor has been reading up online all the different facts about every city we plan to visit, so he's chalk full of information but he's still so excited to see everything in person.
I'm excited to actually go sight-seeing; travelling for Torchwood was more a distraction from the world than a reason to see it. I didn't want to see the differences before because they were all giant reminders that I was in a foreign land, separated from the man I loved. The only thing I saw was the job I was sent to do.
Now that I have the Doctor with me, I know this trip will be filled with happy, exciting new memories.
"Hello," The attendant scanning boarding passes smiles at us, "And how is the happy couple?"
The Doctor shoots me a sideways glance before answering, "We're fantastic. I was wondering what sort of refreshments are being served aboard, would you happen to know?"
"Yes, sir," The attendant flips a screen down on the wall to reveal a computer, and taps the screen a few times, "If you check the sensor aboard your zeppelin carrier, you'll see the menu has been planned out, but there are many substitutions available, and the staff onboard keeps a fully stoked kitchen, as well."
The Doctor leans away from me to read the screen, "Oh, tortellini! I do love a good tortellini, you know."
I nod, my head resting on his shoulder. I love looking at him when he's looking at something else. It's one of my favorite things, because his eyes are so serious, and his lips purse. He hasn't shaved for the last few days, something he didn't have to worry about as often as a Time Lord, now he's boycotting the razor. I love the beard that's growing in, I've never seen the Doctor with facial hair, and it surprisingly suits him quite well.
The Doctor catches me staring, and his eyebrows waggle. "Like what you see?"
I roll my eyes and don't answer, but I tighten my arm around his waist.
The attendant waves us through, and we walk down the gate to board the passenger zeppelin. Our tickets have our compartment number, which we find without any trouble and pile inside. "This is nice, isn't it?" I ask, storing my suitcase in the overhead compartment.
The Doctor stores his case and glances around, giving the place a thoughtful look. His lower lip sticks out as he appraises the plush bench seats and the mini-fridge in the corner. He meets my gaze and grins. "It's no Tardis, but I guess it'll do."
"Speaking of Tarids's. Tardi? Tarduses?" I take a seat and shake my head, "Bloody hell, moving on. How is our little coral growing?"
The Doctor plops down beside me, "I have it stored in Pete's lab. It's growing nicely, and Donna had been exactly right about accelerating the expansive properties. I should be able to start carving in two years, give or take. I'd love to show you when we get back," He grins and his eyes crease, "I think it would love to get to know you, too."
"So, the new Tardis will be like the other? You know, with the telepathy and superior intelligence?"
"Oh, yes, Rose," He scratches the scruff on his cheek, "Since the root was taken from my original Tardis, this new Tardis will harbor similar tendencies, and inherit the same memories. The only difference, besides not being grown on Gallifrey beside other Tardis, will be that it will know this universe and all of its time streams. We'll be able to visit everything about this parallel universe, because our Tardis has grown with this universe's sun and oxygen feeding it."
"You said the Tardis wants to know me?"
"Yes. Our Tardis is just starting its life, and it is very eager to grow for us, but, like any growing organism, it craves affection, tenderness, love. It years for us, Rose. It wants to know us, to know everything about us, so it will be able to take us wherever we need to go. The stronger your mental link is with the Tardis, the easier and more fulfilled flying her will be."
"How do I let it do that?" I take his hand in mine, lace out fingers together, just because I can't stand being apart from him for more than a few moments, "Do I read to it, or tell it stories?"
"Well, you could do that. You could also just sit as it soaks in nutrients from the surrounding air. That's what is usually done. Then, whilst it grows, it will start assimilating to your inner mind. You won't have to say a word, but the Tardis will be learning the way you think, your past memories, and where your future is heading," The Doctor shrugs a little, trying to seem off the cuff, "just a little bit of Time Lord technology at work."
"Oh, you think you're so impressive," My hand squeezes his, and I smile at him broadly.
A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. He nudges his shoulder against mine and says; "I am so impressive."
Our zeppelin lands in France around four in the afternoon. We pile off with our luggage in hand, making our way through the airport lazily. I've made arrangements with a driver to take us to our hotel, but I'm not as tired as I thought I would be from the trip, and the Doctor seems as full of energy as ever, so I am struck with an idea.
"Doctor?"
He looks down at me as we continue walking. "Yes, Rose?"
"Do you want to drop off at the hotel for a bit, or do you want to start an adventure?"
The look in his eye is positively mischievous, and his grin takes most of his face, "Oh, well, I'm always up for an adventure."
"That's what I love about you," I pull his hand and we rush out of the terminal, down the escalator and see a few drivers in black standing by the doors holding signs.
We find the woman holding a sign reading "The Doctor and Rose" and greet her warmly.
"Bonjour!" The Doctor gives the woman's hand a shake.
"Bonjour, Monsieur, and Madame Rose. We will be heading for the Hotel de Crillon, your car is waiting outside," She motions to the doors and gives us a warm smile.
"Right, well," I rest my hand on her arm for a moment, "What is your name?"
"Oh, I am Georgiana Rouge."
"Well, Georgiana, we were hoping to see something first. Could you take us to see the Eiffel Tower before we go to the hotel?"
Georgiana nods enthusiastically, "Oui, that is on the way. Follow me to the car."
"Allons-y!" The Doctor exclaims, making Georgiana giggle as she walks us outside to a black car sitting on beside the sidewalk curb.
The Doctor hoists our bags into the trunk as Georgiana protests.
"Monsieur, please! I must insist"—
"No, no, Georgiana! How can I, an able bodied human male, sit by whilst you lift these monstrously heavy bags into the boot? Not very gentlemanly, is it?" The Doctor winks at me and shuts the trunk door, "I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, eh?"
"If you insist," Georgiana sighs, stepping into the driver's seat.
The Doctor races to open the car door for me, and I laugh a little before slipping into the backseat.
"What? What's so funny?" The Doctor asks as the car starts moving.
"Nothing. You are the epitome of manners and gentlemanly behavior," I wrap my arm through his, the car pushes forward, and I point out the window, "Look, the architecture is spectacular, isn't it?"
The Doctor leans closer to my window, and, subsequently, closer to me. His chest brushes my shoulder, and I smile at the close contact as he begins telling me all about Paris.
"Most of these buildings are based on Haussmann's renovation, which took place in the 1860s. He completely renovated how architects plan out cities. Took a while for his genius to become noticed, as most genius does, but Haussmann was bloody brilliant," The Doctor turns to look out of his window as the traffic slows, "Oh, Rose, do you see that building there?"
I lean over him for a better glimpse, and I see a giant monolithic building, with columns and gargoyles, and gold plated statues. My mouth falls in awe, "Bloody hell, that's breathtaking."
"That's the Palais Garnier. Built between 1861 and 1875. A real work of art, that is. It's an opera house, the opera house, built for the Paris Opera."
"It is called the Opera Garnier, monsieur," Georgiana puts in, "It is one of the most famous places here in Paris."
I sit back in my seat as the car presses on, and I look at the Doctor, "That isn't any different from our old universe, though, is it?"
He shrugs, "There are differences, and I'm sure we'll find them. I didn't want to spoil anything for us, but I did find out that instead of being run by a democratic state, the French are still under a monarch."
"You're kidding?"
"No, no, it's the truth," He nods, his smile growing wider, "this universe's England has a president, and it's Paris still has a King. Georgiana?" The Doctor looks up at our driver, "Georgiana, do you know the King of France?"
"The King? Oh, oui, monsieur! King Louis Alphonse, of course!"
The Doctor turns to give me his winning grin, and I roll my eyes in response. But nothing can keep a smile from my mouth. I rest my head on his shoulder, and sigh. I have missed him so much I can hardly stand it. Even with him sitting here beside me, I still recall the times when he wasn't, and my heart aches with each beat.
Long moments pass as we continue driving through Paris. Georgiana and the Doctor point out a few more historical sites that are different from ones I recall being in the other Paris, but I had never actually been to the other Paris, so I can't really tell the difference.
I've been to this Paris twice, on business. First, tracking an alien craft that crashed near the airport (it had been trying to land, but the driver lost control and was killed on impact, poor soul), and the second time when I was tailing a known serial killer who was using futuristic weaponry. Neither times was I able to really see Paris and enjoy the sights and sounds and people. Well, I didn't have the urge to see those things. I only had time for my pain, and my job.
The Doctor rests his head atop mine.
"We're almost to the Eiffel Tower, madam and monsieur. I will park and await you, then take you on to the Hotel de Crillon."
"Bless you, Georgiana," The Doctor says, "You truly are a wonderful woman. Are you married?"
"Oui, monsieur, for twelve years. My husband, Gustav, works on the ferry boats," Georgiana's voice is full of endearment when she mentions her husband.
"Do you have children?" I ask, surprising myself.
"Oui, madam," Georgiana smiles warmly as she watches the road, "Two twin boys, Henri and Jac. They will be nine years old next month."
"And you love them?" My tone makes a statement, because her affection is written all over her face.
"Oui, madam. They are my life."
I snuggle into the Doctor's side and think quietly to myself as we get closer to our destination. I wonder if the Doctor wants kids. He's had children before, and I know they were lost to him long ago, so part of me thinks that may be a chapter he won't want to open again.
I always thought I'd have children, someday and with the right man. My eyes trail up to the Doctor's face, and I smile a little, because if I were ever to have a baby with someone, this is the exact man I would choose.
The Doctor's eyes meet mine, and they're filled with affection. He looks soft, and open, and I can't help it when I lean up and steal a kiss to which he is oh, too willing to give.
"Here we are, madam and monsieur. The Eiffel Tower," Georgiana has parked our car and she turns to grin at us, "Go and see. It is a marvel."
The Doctor and I pile out of the car, and I watch carefully as he takes in the building before us.
His mouth falls into a frown, and his brow furrows in confusion. "What?" he asks, appalled, "What is this?"
I laugh, "It's the Eiffel Tower, Doctor. This is one of those differences we were looking for."
He looks down at me, "You knew about this?" he accuses.
"Well, I have been to this Paris before, and this is one thing that's pretty hard to miss," I motion towards the monument, and we both turn to stare at it again.
It's very similar to the other Eiffel Tower with the same basic shape, the swooped feet that grow towards the heavens. The differences lie in the arches, the pavilion, and the cupola that sits at the very top.
In the other Eiffel Tower, it's all angels and points. Here, everything is a bit…rounder. The arches have a rounded edge, almost looking like half-tubes running along the entire structure. The glass pavilion, towards the top of the structure, bows out, making the room look like a bubble even from the ground. And then, the top. The cupola is a gigantic ball of iron, sculpted with care, complete with a sharp spire atop of it to make the Eiffel Tower's point. The whole thing looks extraordinary, even if it isn't what the Doctor and I are used to seeing on the streets of Pari.'
"It-it-it" The Doctor stutters, and waves his hand up towards the Tower, "It-it's like the bloody space needle!"
"Yeah," I squint my eyes, "A bit."
The Doctor sighs, "That is definitely something different."
"Oooh, Doctor!" I tug his arm, "We should see what that looks like next!"
"We should see what?" The Doctor looks down at me with an exasperated expression, "Rose, it's a little too late to change our plans. We're already booked in Paris, Rome, and Amsterdam. It's much too late to go flying off to America to see the Space Needle."
"No, you plum," I nudge his arm, "I mean on our next trip. We could go see famous American cities next, couldn't we? Play a few rounds of spot-the-difference, eh?"
The Doctor stares into my eyes for a long moment, searching for something there. Maybe he finds what he's looking for, maybe not, but he throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close, kissing the top of my head.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea. Now, I am exhausted. And famished. Why don't we pop off to the hotel, shall we? See if they have any of those lovely pillow mints? And comfy slippers too, I just love a good comfy hotel slipper."
He leads us back to the car, and I wrap my arm around his waist. "When have you ever had reason to stay in a hotel?"
"Loads of times," The Doctor opens the car door, and sends a wink my way, "I can't get enough of the room service."
Georgiana drives us straight to our hotel, and blushes madly when the Doctor hands her a large wad of money as a tip.
"Monsieur I cannot"—
"Oh, bollocks, you can, and you will," The Doctor shoves his hands in his pockets (Gods could those jeans be any tighter?), and smiles warmly to Georgiana, "You truly are wonderful. We'll request you personally if we have any need of a driver whilst we're here. Won't we, Rose?"
I nod in agreement. "Thank you again, Georgiana. You hug those boys of yours for us!"
The Doctor takes both sets of luggage in his hands and looks pointedly over at me.
I place my hands on my hips, "And what's that look for?"
"Well," He nods towards the door, then meets my gaze, "Ladies first, then."
"How polite," I open the hotel door, walk through, and hold it open as the Doctor pushes through with the bags.
We check in at the lobby desk, which is staffed by three men who seem to genuinely like their jobs. I take our room key, and lead the Doctor to the lift. When the doors shut he drops the bags at our feet with a huge sigh.
His eyes meet mine, and his expression is accusatory.
"Alright, now what's that look for?"
"Well, Rose, that bag weighs a ton! What, did you pack your entire house?"
"I packed the essentials," I insist, placing my hands on my hips, "and I don't want to hear anything from you about packing. Who's the one who kept on about bags that should be bigger on the inside?"
"They should be! It would be much more convenient, and, might I add, a bit easier to carry," the elevator comes to a halt, and the Doctor picks up the bags again, "The dead body you've crammed inside this thing would feel like a feather if we had a bit of Time-Lord technology on our hands, that's all I'm saying."
We exit the lift and I unlock the door to our room. "And all I'm saying is you sound like a broken record," I cheek, sticking my tongue out at him.
The Doctor makes a face at me, before turning to examine the room. I turn to look, and my jaw drops. "Blimey," is all I can muster.
The Doctor steps through the threshold, sets our bags down, and lifts his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, wow," he looks at me and motions for me to step inside as well. I comply, shutting the door behind me, and meet him in the middle of the room. "Look at the ceiling, Rose," the Doctor murmurs to me.
Looking up, I see a gorgeous chandelier—our room is large enough for its own chandelier—and hand painted cherubs playing in clouds painted above our head. My eyes drift to the hand-carved love seat, the wooden table that sits beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the door that leads to a private balcony, and, last but not least, the king-sized masterpiece.
The bed is from a fairy-tale. It is surrounded by a canopy, all white and billowy fabric, with steps that help a person climb atop the gigantic beast. It is large, and spacious, but still manages to be fragile and elegant.
"There's been a mistake," I sputter out, my eyes fixated on the majesty before me, "I paid for a double room. Not the bloody sweet!" I rush to the bedside table and pick up the phone, preparing to dial the front desk, but the Doctor forces a cough to catch my attention, and I turn to gape at him. "What? Have something to add over there, Doctor tight pants?"
"Well, I—hey! You love these pants! Besides, maybe I might have…well," He shoves his hands into his pockets, shifts a bit from foot to foot uncomfortably. I hang the phone on the receiver and stare at him in wonder and fascination as he gathers his thoughts.
The Doctor's eyes meet mine, and he has a certain conviction I haven't seen there in a while. "Well, I asked Pete to upgrade our rooms before we left."
My jaw drops, "But why?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Because I—well because we—well, I guess, because this is our first real vacation. And you should want for nothing." He shrugs a little, but a smile crooks up one corner of his mouth, "I wanted to surprise you. Like I usually always could, with the Tardis and all. This was the only thing I could think to do that would…confuse and excite you a bit. Worked, didn't it?"
He looks awkward, and insecure. He looks perfect, and wonderful. His eyes search for a place to rest, but they drift from the windows to the bed to the floor and to my eyes, full of anxious energy.
I take long strides to meet him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Oh, Doctor," I murmur against his neck, "I forget that you're just as lost as I am, stuck here on the slow path," his arms wrap around me, "Thank you. This is a big surprise, and I absolutely love it. Thank you."
The Doctor nuzzles into me. His nose brushes my ear, the stubble of his cheek brushes my chin, and his lips brush my jaw. He pulls back so his nose is touching my own, and I grin at him. Brown eyes bright and burning with desire, he dips his head, his eyes flutter closed, and he breathes in deep, breathing me in.
Kissing him is instant relief to pain I didn't know I felt. My lips sigh into his and my hands tangle in his hair. We move together, pulling and pushing and pressing into each other. His kisses are like sunshine on a sleeping flower, warm and welcome.
I tug his lapels, and his hands press my hips tighter to him. A gasp escapes my lips and he pulls away to look at me.
"I'm alright," I whisper, not wanting to disrupt this moment.
"Alright?" His brows knit together in confusion, "Are you sure?" His hands trace my spine, slowly, softly, sensually, "You're completely sure?" He growls, his voice rough with emotion.
"Oh, shut up," I press my lips to his once more, eager for the high only he can give me. My hands stroke his face, and I revel the stubble on his chin, love the feel of his smooth neck under my fingertips. A shiver passes through me as he trails his fingers down my spine, and I gasp into his mouth again.
The Doctor chuckles under my lips. One of his hands rest at the small of my back, and the other makes its way slowly up, up, up until he reaches my face. He tilts my face slightly, and I lean into his palm. My lips pull at his, and he sighs into my kisses, eager for more.
"Rose," The Doctor's voice is rough. He takes my face with both hands, his lips devouring mine. I wrap my arms around his waist, not shy in the least as I lift his shirt a bit to feel the skin of his back under my hands.
I feel him jolt in surprise, and I open my eyes to see his expression to find his eyes opened wide. He breaks our kiss, but before he pulls away his tongue brushes my lips and my knees go a little weak.
"Alright," my voice is rough, "Well, that's, uh, we're pretty good at that."
"Yes we are," he pulls away to grin down at me, "We are extremely good at that."
I giggle and pull him closer, "I've never snogged someone in France. I feel like I'm going international. Taking the snog across borders."
"I've snogged someone in France before," He states, his voice full of honor and conviction, "Madame de Pompadour, you remember her?"
"You snogged Madame de Pompadour?"
"Oh, right," the Doctor's face falls, "Right, yes, well, it was a while ago now. I thought we were swapping snog stories, like old war tales? Or maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it?" His voice rises in pitch as his nerves get the better of him, "Maybe I should stop talking. That would be the best move. Although it may be harder than it sounds, because it seems once words start forming in my mouth it's hard for them to stop. She was very sweet, and to be honest she kissed me, so I didn't initiate it. Although, not going to lie to you, Rose, I did, uh, kiss back, but solely on instinct!"
I interrupt him with a laugh, and I watch his face brighten and his shoulders relax a little more. "She was very beautiful. I won't deny you the simple pleasures of snogging famous French mistresses. Though, I would have to insist that in the future you be a bit less forthcoming with your kisses."
"Yes, I promise," His hands find my face again, "I'll be sure to ask your permission before snogging strange women I meet on space ships with wormholes to 18th century France."
"That seems reasonable," I pull away, dropping his waist and taking his hand, "Now, would you like to dine in a ridiculously fancy restaurant with me, Doctor?"
He nods, my favorite smile enveloping his entire face, "Not only would I love to, but I've already made a reservation."
"You have?"
"Well, Pete did," the Doctor shrugs, "I told you, I'm full of surprises."
"And full of yourself."
"If I wasn't just a little bit overconfident than I wouldn't be the Doctor, now, would I?"
"No. Overconfidence is definitely not something you're lacking in."
*I very much hope you enjoyed this chapter. I took a long break in between this and the last. So sorry. I'm trying to write as fast as I can, but I find fact-checking so tedious, and also very thrilling. I wanted to make the differences between both realities realistic, for instance the King of France mentioned is a literal modern-day descendant of a previous French royal family. Or so I believe to be true via the sanction of several websites.
**To all the REVIEWERS. BLESS YOU. You all make me feel very good about this story, where I am very self conscious about writing in general, your reviews have built my confidence. Let me know what you think about this one. Now on-to the future!