Disclaimer: I don't own DW or any of the characters.
I have no idea if a clothes shop in 1971 would have an elevator in it, but I'm taking poetic license and saying it would. Thanks to everybody who has reviewed, followed, favourited, etc, this story.
(Also, while sex will be hinted at, it will not be described, because I'm asexual and have no idea how to write it. This is also focusing on Rose and the Doctor, not so much on their adventures.)
Posted: 22-10-2023
Chapter Two
Reuniting
She blinked in confusion and eyed him warily. "How d'you know my name?" She wondered. Her London accent was musical to the Doctor's ears, so similar to her slaves' accent from all those centuries ago. The Doctor cursed his lack of sociability with his colleagues at UNIT. She'd been in the city this whole time, every time he landed in the 60s she was right there! He could have found her years ago if he didn't just hop in his TARDIS and go once a disaster was done with.
"Are you okay, mate?" Rose asked him, looking even more concerned by his lack of response.
He cleared his throat. "I'm fine, thank you," he assured her, a fondness for her welling up in his hearts. She was always so concerned about other people, no matter the circumstances. Her compassion awed him.
"Okay, then," Rose said politely. "An' about how you know my name?"
"Ah," he said slowly, his mind groping for an explanation. But she would never believe him and would possibly run off (once they were out of the small elevator, that is) if he were to just blurt out the truth. Nor could he possibly lie. Not to her.
That left one option remaining to him. He could only hope she would forgive him for it once it was over with.
"You gave me permission to do this before," he told her, ignoring the confusion on her beautiful face. "I can only hope that you will accept my doing so again, given the circumstances."
"What're you-?" She began to say, only to be interrupted by him reaching out to place his fingers on her temple, where her telepathic access points were, and he opened their minds to each other. He showed her their life together, all those years ago, his happiness, no, his elation, at finding her again. And he felt it as her side of the bond woke up on feeling his presence and reached out, joining their timelines tightly together again. He sighed in sheer bliss at the sensation of her in his mind once again. For the first time in over six hundred years his head didn't with the loss of his bondmate.
Rose gasped as he reluctantly pulled out of her mind, staring at him with wide eyes, her chest moving rapidly, as if she were just after running a great distance.
"You, you were in my head," she exclaimed. "You showed me...And you think that her, your Rose, is me? I mean, we do look a lot alike, bu' wouldn' I remember somethin' like tha'?"
"She is you, Rose," the Doctor insisted. "You hid your memories from yourself on rebirth to protect your child's mind, which was too young to cope with eighteen years of memories, but they were always destined to return one day. Even without your memories, the bond is proof that you're one in the same. If you weren't, it wouldn't have restored itself. I know you can feel it. Feel me. Rose, please. You know who I am. Tell me. Tell me and prove that you're her." He couldn't hide his raw desperation. After six centuries, he had begun to fear that he would never find her. Now, that fear had changed to her never accepting the truth.
But she didn't. She gazed at him for a long moment, one that seemed to drag on and on to him, though his time sense assured him that only a few seconds had passed. Then she spoke.
"You're...the Doctor," she stated at last, before whispering his True Name, one only his parents and bondmate knew. "You're my, my bondmate. And what you showed me...that really was my life! On, on Gallifrey."
"Yes," he confirmed, relaxing as he felt and saw her acceptance and embrace of her history.
She nodded slowly, studying him. She stepped closer gazed deeply into his eyes. "You look so different," she whispered. "So much older and more weary, like you've got the weight o' the world on your shoulders. What happened to you while I was-while we were separated?"
He sighed. "A lot," he stated in understatement. Then he finally noticed the banging that had been going on since the lift doors had shut, and realized that this wasn't the best place to have this conversation. He held out a hand hopefully, and felt the tension flee his body when she interlaced their fingers.
"We still fit," she remarked softly, with that tongue-touched smile that still made his hearts stutter in attraction and love.
"Always," he breathed, using his free hand to brush away a lock of hair from her face.
"Forever," she returned, eyes glinting like chips of gold.
"We ought to finish blowing up the shop," he stated, forcing his thoughts to focus. "Then I must return to base to help UNIT deal with the Nestene Consciousness and the Master."
"So, the mannequins are aliens?" Rose half-asked, half-stated. "An' wha' base? What's UNIT?" She frowned suddenly, eyes flashing. "The Master? Is 'e another Time Lord? Are they invadin' Earth too? Don' those brutes 'ave enough planets sufferin' under their tyranny?"
"I'll explain on the way," the Doctor promised with a wince, pressing the button for the roof. He wasn't looking forward to telling her that the Master was Koschei. His former friend had always had a sadistic streak, and when he was younger he had taken that streak out on the slaves. Even other Time Lords had been uncomfortable with some of his actions towards the Oakdown slaves. The lift began slowly and creaking going up as he went on. "I just have to blow up the shop first. I'm afraid that it's completely infested now." He should send her out to wait with Bessie, but he couldn't bare to leave her right then. Not when he had just gotten her back. Besides, knowing Rose, she'd refuse to go without him either.
"There's nobody else 'ere, is there?" Rose checked, though he sensed through their bond that she was certain he knew the shop was empty already. He couldn't suppress the smile at her faith in his goodness, something he had worked hard to earn and expected to have to work hard to regain.
"No, you were the only human left here," the Doctor assured her. "That was why I came down here. I could hardly destroy the place with someone still inside."
"You've come a long way from the man I met on Gallifrey," Rose smiled.
"I'm pleased to agree," the Doctor agreed. "I'm a different person now. A better one, I hope."
"I know," Rose assured him. She stood up on tiptoe, tilting her face up. He could sense her desire, and had no intention of denying her. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, savouring the taste of her for the first time in six hundred thirty-two years, nine months, twelve days, thirteen hours and four minutes.
It was a bit different, she was human now, not Elorthian, with different hormone levels and iron instead of copper-based blood, not to mention the lipstick, something her first self never had the chance to wear. But it was still her, still Rose, and he could feel lust stirring within him, could feel the bond pressing him to seal their union physically, the way they'd never had the chance to, having bonded hastily in prison to ensure they would always be tied to one another, even after her death. If they had managed to seal their union, he would have been able to find her the minute she was reborn. Still, he had her back now, and nothing would separate them again. He pulled away to keep from taking her right there in the lift.
She breathed heavily, her lipstick smudged, and he tidied it with his finger as the lift doors finally opened onto the roof. The relay device, a small silverish disc with an antenna in the middle on a round base, was lying in the centre of the roof, and it didn't take long to set the charges and run to safety. They took shelter behind Bessie, who was parked across the street from the clothes shop Rose was working in, and the Doctor added to Rose's protection with his body, shielding her petite form with his larger one as the shop exploded.
"My apologies for the loss of your job," he muttered to his bondmate, who shrugged philosophically.
"'s better my job than my life, ain't it?" She said matter-of-factly. "Now, where's this base you were talkin' about? An' what's UNIT? You still 'aven't explained. An' I 'ad better call my roommate, Sharon, an' let 'er know I won't be comin' back tonight."
The Doctor's mind was only half-on defeating the Master and his plastic allies, though thankfully his plans still succeeded. Rose stayed close to him the whole time, their hands tightly linked, ignoring the curious and confused looks the UNIT men shot her, and she was instrumental in helping defeat the Autons in the Doctor's not-so humble opinions, being the one to figure out that the daffodils released a thin layer of plastic which sealed the nose and mouth, choking the people to death. She had also punched the Master in the face at one point, and the Doctor noted through the bond the utter loathing Rose felt for him. He couldn't blame her for her anger, but he hoped the fact that the Time Lords had changed their ways and the slaves had all been returned to their homes might give her some peace in dealing with the memories of her past life that were swiftly returning with the activation of the bond.
The Brigadier clearly suspected who Rose was, but said nothing beyond stating that now that the Doctor had found himself a new assistant, he would stop the search for a new one and get Rose's security clearance sorted. Rose thanked him earnestly and the Brigadier's stern expression softened, unsurprisingly to the Doctor. Rose was an expert at making people adore her.
Then, finally, they were alone.
"Why's she a police box?" Rose asked curiously, studying the TARDIS with a smile as she stroked the side gently. "I could understand if we were outside, even if 's a bit outta date nowadays, but in 'ere I'd expect her to look like a cupboard or somethin'."
"I landed in the early 1960s a few centuries ago and the chameleon circuit broke," the Doctor explained sheepishly. "I've never gotten around to fixing it. To tell the truth, I'm rather fond of her like this. And it makes it easier to find her."
Rose gave a soft smile as she looked the TARDIS up and down. "She is beautiful," she agreed, before turning to the Doctor. "Show me inside?" She suggested with a hint of slyness to her smile.
He unlocked the door and ushered in his beloved, resting a hand on her lower back and revelling in the ability to touch her once again.
"Oh, gorgeous!" Rose cooed, studying the TARDIS's console room. The TARDIS' hummed increased and they felt her excitement and happiness at Rose's arrival through the Doctor's Pilot bond. "'m glad to be 'ere too, dear," Rose assured her, patting the wall affectionately.
"We 'ave a lot to talk about," she stated, half-turning to look at the Doctor, who had paused to take in the sight of his two loves.
"We do," he agreed hoarsely. He reached out and gently tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Six centuries is quite a lot to tell you about."
Her eyes widened. "Six centuries?" She whispered. "'as it really been tha' long?"
He nodded solemnly. "It has," he confirmed. "A lot has changed since...that day."
Her eyes fell to the floor and tucked her hands in her skirt pockets. "Wha' sort a things 'ave changed?" She asked, a hint of nerves in her beautiful voice.
"Me," the Doctor admitted honestly. "Gallifrey. The Time Lords themselves. But not. Not how I feel. My hearts are yours. Always."
She looked up again, relaxing and giving him his smile. "Forever," she replied in Low Gallifreyan, the same version of the language spoken by the Outsiders and slaves, a bastardised version of regular Gallifreyan.
He held out his hand. "We could speak in the library," he suggested. "I can make the tea." Back in their first lifetime, Rose would've been the one to make the tea, even after he'd fallen in love with her. It wouldn't have occurred to him to even offer to do more than pour. He hoped that she would get his hidden message. He was a better man now. Their new relationship, if she wanted one, would be one of equals, not master and slave.
Never again would he control her.
Rose took his hand and stepped closer, tilting her head back to meet his gaze, her expression turning a bit sly as her free hand rested on his chest. "Or," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice, "The two of us could go t' your room and, get reacquainted. We can star' the 'eavy conversations tomorrow evening."
The Doctor was tempted, very tempted, to agree. But before that, he had to at least make an offer. Even if the mere thought of her accepting shattered his hearts and ground the pieces to dust. "Are you certain that's what you want?" He asked, elaborating when her seductive look turned bemused. "I want you Rose. I have wanted you since the day I first laid eyes on you all those years ago. But I refuse to force you to do anything ever again. I turned my back on that way of life a long time ago, and I have no intention of returning to it. I can do nothing about the bond, but whatever relationship we have, if we have any, is entirely up to you."
"Oh, my Doctor," Rose sighed, reaching up to cup his jaw. "I love you. I was waitin' for you e'en when I didn't remember you. Trus' me, I wan' this. I wan' you."
How could he resist her? The answer was simple: he couldn't. So he took her hand, adoring how right it felt in his larger one, and took her to bed for the first time in far, far too long.
