Rose awoke feeling much, much better. A long night's sleep in her own bed had done her a world of good. Though she was still worried about the stars going out and she still desperately wanted to be reunited with her proper Doctor, she no longer felt like she was constantly about to panic or cry.
I was afraid I'd never see this bed again, she thought, taking a moment to revel in the feel of the sheets and blankets around you. My bed.
She was so, so close to her goal. She might even get to see him today... a possibility that motivated her to climb out of her warm sanctuary and face the morning.
The TARDIS had apparently done away with her clothes for the moment - hopefully to clean them - so she padded down the hallway barefoot, wearing pink and black yoga pants and the white tank top that she'd slept in the night before.
She entered the console room unnoticed, and took a moment to observe her host, this strange new version of the Doctor, who was deeply absorbed in some sort of calculations on a view screen.
He was tall, but not as tall as the Doctor she knew, and slightly more muscular, but only a bit. His wavy hair was messy from having had hands run through it too often, and he hummed to himself as he worked. This morning he wore a frock coat over his shirt and waistcoat. The effect made him look dashing, and a little bit eccentric.
Rose decided he looked like a young university professor, absentminded and completely unaware that half of his female students, and probably a few of the males as well, spent his lectures fantasizing about snogging him rather than taking notes.
And would that be you, then? Her brain asked her. Are you the lecherous student in this analogy?
She tried to shake the thought off, but was only half successful. This was the Doctor, after all. She had loved him almost since she had met him, and he had taught her well that regenerating changed his face and, to some extent, his attitude, but not who he was at his core. It would feel strange to her if she wasn't drawn to him.
She found that she wanted to walk over to him and run her hands through his curls, to see how it felt, compared to the thick, wild shock of hair she knew so well. She wanted to lean against his back and hug him tight from behind, to see if this body of his was as strong and comforting as the one she dreamed of holding.
But that wouldn't be right, she reminded herself. He doesn't know you. He just met you. He's just doing what he always does - going out of his way to help a complete stranger just because it seems like the right thing to do.
She allowed herself more moment to study him, then made a noise in her throat to make him aware of her presence, and his head snapped up from his work.
"Ah! You're awake," he remarked, "and looking a fair sight better I think. You humans do love your sleep."
His blue eyes sparkled, and she found herself marveling over the happiness and energy he seemed to radiate.
"Well, I've got everything set up, I believe," The Doctor told her brightly, "but it's going to take a few hours for all of the logarithms to finish computing. I'm not really supposed to be out looking for other versions of myself, you see. It confuses the TARDIS, so the calculations are a bit tricky."
"Got it," Rose said. That made sense. Or at least as much sense as anything else the Doctor ever said.
"So, now we sit and wait," she said, nodding her head soberly, just to mess with him. She knew sitting and waiting positively made his skin crawl.
Some things never changed. No matter which body he was wearing, the Doctor couldn't stand waiting... and this one didn't realize she was teasing him. She stifled a grin at the distressed face he made.
"Indeed," he told her dutifully, glancing nervously at the figures on the screen, then started talking a mile a minute, explaining, "but since the TARDIS can do its computing basically anywhere, we don't strictly need to be here in this room while we wait, so I was thinking that perhaps we might pop off and visit a friend I made over in Nepal about 200 years ago. There's this absolutely charming little restaurant in the foothills of the Himalayas where I once had tea with the Dalai Lama. Something tells me it's right up your alley, you know. You seem like the type of girl who - "
Rose snickered, raising her hands hand to cut off the seemingly endless stream of words.
"You were baiting me," he accused, slightly incredulous.
"Might have been," she confessed, smiling smugly.
He looked like he wasn't sure whether to be offended or charmed. Rose was delighted to have the upper hand. She could get used to this - he was cute when he was flustered.
"Look," she told him, taking a step forward and staring up into his soulful blue eyes. "I'll make you a deal. We can go sightseeing anywhere you like. Anywhere in the universe. I know you can't sit still to save your own life, and I can't tell you how much I've missed traveling with the D- I mean, with you, in the TARDIS. But sightseeing only, understand? We have to stay out of trouble. I can't afford to be distracted or sidetracked by overthrowing some sort of alien dictator, or get killed by Daleks before I've even gotten back to when and where I'm supposed to be. Got it? No. Trouble."
"No trouble," he repeated back, holding his hand up as if making a solemn vow, though his eyes were glittering with possibilities, and his smile full of mischief.
"I mean it," she said, trying to keep her voice serious, and failing because his grin was infectious. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him, figured it was probably a little of both. Did he have to keep looking at her like that?
"No trouble. Cross my hearts," he promised, leaning down to whisper the words softly in her ear.
The heat of his breath against her neck sent a shiver down her spine.
Is he flirting with me?
Rose fought down the urge to call his bluff by turning her head and kissing him. Flirting or no, this man was a stranger to her. He wasn't her Doctor. Not yet. And there was no way he could realize how much his flirting would mean to her. So she took a deep breath, trying to ignore the delicious way he smelled standing so close to her, and let it out slowly before stepping back and flashing him her most brilliant smile.
"Well then, let's go!" she said, skipping ahead of him to the TARDIS console. "Where to? Wait, don't tell me. Let me guess... the Glasmir mountains of scenic Apalapucia. Or maybe Elbyon, on the famed, shadow isles of Avalon, with landscapes straight out of a storybook?"
Rose twirled around to meet his eyes to find him looking at her with a mystified expression. It must seem strange to him, she thought, to have a strange girl from Earth spouting his own words and memories back at him like this.
"Come on now," she teased him, "it can't surprise you that much, that I might listen when you talk to me!"
"There is, I suppose, a first time for everything," he joked, smiling thoughtfully. "What about... the effervescent oceans of Florana? Would you fancy a swim?"
Rose thought she'd very much fancy the chance to see this Doctor without a shirt, but she kept that thought to herself.
"Perfect," she told him. "I'll go find my towel."
Four Hours Later...
"Faster!" he urged, dragging Rose behind him by one hand as she struggled to keep pace with him. Couldn't things ever go according to plan? They were almost there...
"Ah! We made it!" he shouted victoriously as they stumbled into the TARDIS, slamming the door with a sense of finality.
"Barely!" Rose scolded him through gasping breaths, wringing out her hair and dropping wet leaves all over the floor of the console room. "I said 'no trouble!' So I would just like to know, if that wasn't trouble, what the hell is? Wait, don't answer that."
"This is not my fault," he replied, feeling slightly defensive but mostly amused, stripping off his wet coat and cravat, and shaking the water out of his own hair. "How was I to know it was the harvest festival during a bronze age? I thought we were landing centuries later - after their industrial revolution. Anyone could have made that mistake, I'll have you know; the coordinates are only two digits off. And I got us out of there, did I not? If you have a better suggestion for evading the attentions of six hundred superstitious farmers under the influence of one of the most powerful hallucinogens this side of Metebelis 3, I'm all ears. Besides, you were the one who kept drawing attention to us."
"They were going to sacrifice her!" Rose retorted, walking up to him and shaking a finger in his face. "If you think I was just going to sit by and twiddle my thumbs and watch a human sacrifice... or a... Floranian sacrifice, or whatever you call it... you obviously don't know me very well."
"Well, obviously I don't!" he shot back cheekily, entertained by her fierce spirit. "I only met you last night, after all."
He moved her finger out of his face with the back of his hand and smiled down at her calmly. She knew as well as he did that he would never have let that girl die on the altar, though he probably would have come up with a slightly more surreptitious way of preventing it, had she only given him five minutes to think.
Rose glared at him for a split second longer before dissolving into laughter, bracing herself on the console for support. The Doctor joined in laughing as watched her, completely soaked through in her bikini top and denim shorts, wet hair and face flushed from running.
She's absolutely beautiful, he thought. And fearless. Being with her is positively exhilarating. She handled herself well out there - it's no wonder that I pick her, in the future... What a shame, that I have to give her up now.
It was a disconcerting feeling, to be jealous of oneself.
"God, I missed this," Rose said as she regained her composure. "It's been ages since the last time I found myself running for my life back to the TARDIS."
"It shows," he taunted her, raising an eyebrow in mock judgement. "Looked to me like you were having a spot of trouble keeping up back there. Perhaps you're not as young as you once were, hm?"
"Oi!" she shouted, punching him in the arm. "Like you're some spring chicken. Exactly how many centuries old are you right now?"
She went to swat at him again, and he caught her hand in mid-air.
"Humans," he lamented, shaking his head in mock sadness. "Tsk, tsk... So violent..."
"Oh yeah? I'll show you violent," she teased back, stepping into his personal space and going to pinch him.
He grabbed her other wrist as he stepped sideways to avoid the attack, and suddenly found himself standing over Rose, who was backed up against the TARDIS console, gripping one of her arms firmly in each of his hands, staring down into her laughing eyes as he breathed in her intoxicatingly exotic scent. He suddenly found himself acutely aware of her beach attire, comprised more of strings and knots than actual fabric, and focused on the creamy expanses of skin left exposed by her bathing suit top. To his shock, he felt himself becoming aroused.
It was not the first time, of course. He'd always been more prone to certain urges than the typical Time Lord, and even more in this incarnation than in the past, but it was still extremely rare.
And she's just a human, he thought to himself, confused at his body's reaction. That's even rarer. Not to mention you hardly know her.
Rose was making no move to pull away. She stood perfectly still, staring up at him with her lips slightly parted. He could feel her pulse increasing as she stood there, anticipating his next move. She trusted him absolutely. And she wanted him. Her eyes held a dare... or a plea.
You don't know her, he realized, but she knows you. It's obvious she's in love with you - some version of you, at least. And she smells so good, so familiar. You're reacting to that, Time Lord... to her smell. To that tingling in your seventh and eighth senses. It's as though she smells like...
"Time," he whispered. "How?"
"Time for what?" she breathed, not breaking his gaze.
"You... you smell like Time. Like the Vortex," he said, and released her wrists.
The spell of the moment was broken, and Rose stepped back from him with a shuttered gaze, all traces of the trust and openness from a moment before completely vanished.
"Do I?" she asked cautiously. This revelation had not surprised her.
"What are you?" he asked softly, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Just Rose," she replied stepping back farther, as though retreating from his prying gaze. "Plain old human Rose."
"Then... how?" he asked again.
"You know I can't tell you," she responded sadly. "I wish I could, but I really can't."
He nodded his understanding. It had something to do with him, then. That much was obvious. Who was this human woman to become in his life?
For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other. Then, the computer on the TARDIS console beeped a shrill alarm, signifying that his calculations to track down his future self had been completed.
"I should go tend to that," he whispered, clearing his throat.
She nodded, and looked more than a little relieved.
"I think I'll go dry off," she said, nodding towards the door. "You should too, yeah? Don't forget to change out of those wet clothes."
He smiled as he turned around to shut off the noise. Her concern was touching. She knew him so well.
"I won't," he told her. "Why don't you meet me back here in thirty minutes?"
"Fantastic," she said. Then she started to step away, but stopped suddenly, walking back towards him and taking him by the shoulders. Rolling up onto the balls of her feet, she kissed him softly on the lips.
"Thank you, Doctor," she told him, and he was suffused with warmth to hear her call him 'Doctor,' as though she could really see the man she knew, when she looked at him.
"Anytime, Rose Tyler," he replied, utterly sincere.
He found himself smiling long after she left the room.
Doctor, old chap, he thought to himself, you're in a lot of trouble.
A/N: Holy cow, thank you, readers! I didn't expect this story to get such a warm reception... and I'm overjoyed to be wrong. Thank you for your reviews and follows and kind words. They make me smile, and they really are wonderfully motivating. Hope you enjoyed this chapter... xxo - O.A.