#gitf fixit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocolatequeennk · 8 years ago

Text

Snapshots of Forever, 1/2

Little snapshots taken along the path of forever.

This fills in the gaps in The Course of True Love. There's been a lot of time skips in that series, and I wanted to let you watch their relationship develop. Most of these happen during Love on a Desert Island. The last section will be between that and With This Ring.

Ten x Rose

Fills the @doctorroseprompts “missing moments” prompt

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 2

The Doctor was the first to the workshop, just as he had been every day for the last four months. He pulled the curtains back from the tall windows, and warm sunlight streamed into the room, dancing over the canvases and slabs of marble Michelangelo’s apprentices were working on.

And in an alcove, there was an almost finished statue of the goddess Fortuna. The Doctor studied it carefully, starting with her sandalled feet and making sure every detail matched the image of Rose in his head. He swallowed when he reached her hand—the one that would eventually be lost—and remembered how those fingers felt, laced between his own.

Her face was blank, and looking at the pale white marble, the Doctor felt a flicker in his time senses, like he’d just remembered something that hadn’t happened yet. Focus, he told himself sternly, then picked up his chisel.

Slowly, the room filled with chatter as other apprentices arrived to work. The Doctor blocked out the sound of their voices as the curve of Rose’s full bottom lip emerged from the marble. As he worked, he remembered the way that lip had felt caught between his own, and he furiously blinked back tears.

“You do not work with any sort of reference.”

The Doctor didn’t look up when Michelangelo spoke. “No,” he said, brushing away marble dust and studying his progress before reaching for the chisel again.

“I think your Fortuna is real, and you love her.”

He stilled. “Yes.”

oOoOoOoOo

Rose felt the breeze on her face first, then her vision cleared and the Doctor’s face swam into view. Her heart clenched when she saw the deep furrow between his brows. As soon as she could move her hand, she reached up to smooth it away.

“Rose.”

She heard the suppressed sob in his voice and wondered how long she’d been stuck as a statue. Before she could ask, the Doctor wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Rose tilted her head back and met his kiss. His movements were frenzied, nipping at her lip, darting his tongue into her mouth to taste her, trailing kisses along her jawline before returning to her mouth.

She understood his desperation a few hours later when she held her breath and poured the green potion over his head. This time, she was the one to whisper his name, the one who needed to feel the warmth of his blood flowing beneath his skin as she touched him.

When he ran his hands up and down her back, Rose wound her arms around his neck and kissed him urgently, letting him feel her worry and her relief as they celebrated the unspeakable pleasure of being together.

Their kisses finally softened into a series of pecks, and then the Doctor pulled back and cupped her face in his hand. Rose smiled up at him and turned to press a kiss to his palm.

They were all right. They’d always be all right.

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor stared up at the dark ceiling in Jackie’s lounge. Seeing Sarah Jane again had been hard. Seeing how he’d hurt her by leaving and never coming back…

A soft shuffling noise distracted him from his thoughts, and he rolled over to look towards the hallway. Rose’s figure was silhouetted in the pale light coming in through the window.

“I thought you were in bed,” he whispered.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she answered. “Budge up.”

The Doctor pushed himself up so his legs were stretched out on half of the couch, leaving room for Rose. But instead of sitting on the empty half, she wedged herself in between the back of the couch and his legs, resting her head on his chest.

“What’s bothering you, love?” His hand dropped to her head, his fingers playing with her silky hair.

She shifted so he could see her face. “Why’d you leave Sarah Jane behind, Doctor?”

His throat closed when he heard the vulnerability in her voice. He would rather kiss a Slitheen than explain his fears to Rose, but he couldn’t leave that fear unanswered.

“I don’t age. I regenerate. But humans decay—you wither and you die.”

She sucked in a breath, but the Doctor continued on, needing her to understand this.

“You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can’t spend the rest of mine with you. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Rose climbed into his lap. “Then let’s enjoy the forever we have.”

oOoOoOoOo

The library’s dim lights cast the Doctor’s face in shadow, but Rose could still see his frown. “Why do I feel like you’re angry with me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You knew I didn’t want to bring Mickey along!” she hissed. “I shook my head and told you no when he asked. So why’d you do it, Doctor?”

He raked his hand through his hair. “I really don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. You wanted Sarah Jane to join us—that was your idea. How is Mickey any different?”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Really? You can’t think of any reasons why having my ex-boyfriend along would be different?”

“No!”

“It didn’t occur to you that it might be… awkward, considering how our relationship has changed?” The Doctor’s eyes widened, and his obvious surprise made Rose wonder if she’d misread his motivation.

“But he… you’re not… you haven’t been together in months!” he finally spluttered.

Rose sighed, and most of her anger drained out of her with the gust of air. “Yeah but Mickey still cares about me, and I don’t want to hurt him by rubbing our relationship in his face.”

The Doctor tugged on his ear, and Rose finally smiled at him. “Never mind.” She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I thought you were pulling back, that’s all.”

He shook his head. “Never,” he swore. “You promised your forever, and that’s what I want.”

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor stared at Reinette, who was stalking him across the room with a coy smile on her face. It was similar to Rose’s teasing smile, but instead of wanting to catch her in his arms and kiss her, his hearts pounded with a frantic need to run away.

He backed up to the wall, a few feet from the fireplace. “Listen, lovely to catch up, but better to be off, eh? Don’t want your mother finding you up here with a strange man, do we?”

“Strange?” she repeated. “How could you be a stranger to me? I’ve known you since I was seven years old.”

The logic was impeccable, but it also shot a hole in the Doctor’s argument. He shifted towards the fireplace and said, “Yeah, I suppose you have. I came the quick route. But now that I’ve seen that you’re still all right, I should just…”

Reinette crossed the remaining space between them, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Will you not allow me to thank you properly for keeping me safe all these years?” she purred, matching him step for step as he inched sideways.

“No thanks needed—all in a day’s work for a fireplace inspector.” Finally close enough, he grabbed the lever, then leapt through to the spaceship when the fireplace turned on its base.

Rose and Mickey were gone, and after his hearts slowed down, the Doctor followed them. Best if he stayed close to Rose until they were done dealing with Reinette.

oOoOoOoOo

“You’re going to do what?” Rose asked.

The Doctor shoved his hands into his hair and tugged. “I know. I know, Rose. But timelines are dissolving around Reinette—if I don’t save her, there will be disastrous consequences.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Rose replied. And she did—sometimes he had to act. “But I’m not staying behind.”

“Oh!” His eyes brightened. “But didn’t I explain the next part?”

Rose looked at Mickey, then they both said, “No.”

“Ah. Well.” He tugged on his ear and grinned sheepishly. “You two are coming to get me.”

Rose blinked. “How’re we gonna do that?”

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned, like he’d been very clever. “When you get into the TARDIS, there will be a big red button on the console. That will tell her to follow our telepathic connection so she can come after me.”

There were a lot of questions Rose wanted to ask, but there wasn’t time. Instead, she grabbed the Doctor’s tie and pulled him down while she pushed herself up on her toes. His lips met hers in a searing kiss, and she knew his rescue plan wasn’t quite foolproof.

“You be careful,” she warned after she backed up.

He swung himself up on the horse and beamed down at her. “See you in a minute, Rose Tyler.”

Mickey stared at her after the Doctor broke the window. “So. You and him?”

Rose smiled, her lips still tingling from the kiss. “Yeah. We are.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #series: the course of true love #cq's fic: snapshots of forever #the stone rose #school reunion #girl in the fireplace #gitf fixit #fluff #romance #misunderstadings #figuring out relationship stuff #fic by Nancy

21 notes · View notes

doctorroseprompts · 7 years ago

Note

Another rec for you, Nonny!

"The Girl in the Fireplace" will ALWAYS bothers me! But I wish at least we had a conversation between Ten and Rose after that. Or maybe Tentoo and Rose, while they're living their forever, could have this talk. So, if any writer can relieve my heart with that, I appreciate.

Yes, this is always a good topic for exploration!

There are a few fics in our GITF tag that fit this prompt, if you want something to read while we wait for more.

#ep: gitf #ten x rose #gitf fixit

16 notes · View notes

kelkat9 · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! For the fanfic asks: B, K, S. Have a lovely day! <3

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Okay so I believe in being direct so these answers are meant to be brutally honest and guiding people on some fic so they don't read something that they get mad or triggered by.

The one that was therapy fic that i banged out and posted is something I've had some chastising remarks sent to me on.

I think people don't often understand the wide varying experiences of trauma and grief. They tend to think there personal experience is the default. This is especially true with assault and I think it's really awful when people tell you your experience is invalid.

So that being said, I don't often rec this story because it is very personal and was written after my brother died suddenly and unexpectedly and some of the varying parts of grief I experienced are expressed. Also, people tend to idolize Jackie and I like to treat her as a real person and it irks them that I show her as reacting as a clingy mama bear. Sorry, this got rambly but I like to be straight up on criticism to allow people to navigate around my stuff.

Broken TenII/Rose Explicit/Angst/PTSD Rose

What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

Again, something not for everyone. Time Lord Victorious rewrite of time/fixit with Doomsday in a somewhat cringey way. Ten is not a saint in this in that he manipulates Rose. Granted, he's half mad and in love with her and realizes how far he's fallen and caused a mess. His solution is very unethical and Rose calls him on it. It's also a sort of Character Death/Sacrifice/reincarnation type thing.

Claiming His Reward Ten/Rose Explicit - she has sex with TLV Ten but doesn't realize it until later and then there are repercussions - just in case that's a trigger for anyone.

Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

Yes, I love fixits be it DD or JE. Ten/Rose fixits as long as it doesn't involving killing TenII. I prefer clever rewrites.

GITF fixits but not bashing Ten for the whole fic as that gets overdone. I prefer fics writing Rose in the power role and leaving him or gaining emotional higher ground. Again groveling Ten sometimes seem OOC so I prefer it be Rose putting him on the spot and there being discussion.

Unusual babyfic - not the gooey baby talk baby sugary sweet stuff but alien baby and differing moralities on how pregnancy and child rearing are pretty interesting to me. Anything too contemporary romance is not my thing.

Soulmate fic - yes love these

AUs but it varies.

Thanks so much for asking!

https://kelkat9.tumblr.com/post/663335797416722432

#Meme #Ten x Rose #TenII x Rose #really posting some from the cobwebb covered basement LOL

4 notes · View notes

doctorroseficreclists · 4 years ago

Text

meddling tardis

fic rec list masterpost | tropes masterlist

Erm... what is says on the tin. The TARDIS has her otp, after all. These are mostly on the lighter side, but please remember to read any notes and warnings. There are a couple of angsty fics in here also!

I’ve held onto this list for an unconscionably long time because I keep thinking it should be longer. Soooo, if anyone has any recs to add, please let us know!

~pyf

💘 = adult rating (For longer fics, this likely only applies to some chapters.)

ficlet

A-Mazed By You by @chocolatequeennk (TenxRose)

Hands Off the Blonde by @paigenotblank (NinexRose)

Punch Drunk by @perfectlyrose (TenxRose)

Stargazing/Sleeping Bag by @lizann5869 (TenxRose)

short story

NINExROSE:

Breaking the Loop by @caedmonfaith

Co-Habitation by @paigenotblank

Dance With Me by ClockworkPomelo

Prove It by NephthysMoon

TENxROSE:

By the Light of the Bridge by @goingtothetardis (Doomsday fixit, reunionfic)

Dancing in Stardust by @goingtothetardis

Deck the Halls by @goingtothetardis

Ghosts by LiraelCayr007 (post-Doomsday angst)

The Gift That Keeps on Giving by @chocolatequeennk (BadWolf!Rose, mistletoe)

Give Him the Ooh-La-La by @whoinwhoville

Last Dance by centaurea montana (serious angst, mcd)

Leave Us Behind by @goingtothetardis (GitF fixit)

Lost and Found by @lizann5869

K-I-S-S-I-N-G by @goingtothetardis (GitF fixit)

Mauve by @goingtothetardis

The Ramifications of a Meddling Time Ship by @goingtothetardis

Slow Burn by @doctor-who-hears-a-horton

The TARDIS and the Crab by @davinasgirlfriend (gingergallifreyan)

TENTOOxROSE:

Born Into by @skyler10fic (babyfic)

Tradition by LiraelCayr007 (Christmas fluff, mistletoe)

novella

TENxROSE:

💘 Five Times the Tardis Tried to Play Matchmaker (and One Time She Actually Succeeded) by @caedmonfaith

💘 This Cursed Sixth Sense by Vampiyaa

TWELVE/MULTIERAxROSE:

Looking Back by @countessselena (TwelvexRose, TenxRose, reunion!fic)

'til Midnight by LiraelClayr007 (TwelvexRose, ThirteenxRose)

THIRTEEN/MULTIERAxROSE:

💘 Persistence of Memory by @onthedriftinthetardis (ThirteenxRose)

novel

TENxROSE:

Getting Through by Khaelis ( @khaelisfics ) (reunionfic and a whole lot more!)

#fic rec list #tropes #meddling tardis #ninexrose #tenxrose #twelve x rose #thirteenxrose

33 notes · View notes

natural--blues · 5 years ago

Link

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sarah Jane Smith, Mickey Smith, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, King Louis - Character, K9 (Doctor Who) Additional Tags: Telepathic Bond, Soul Bond, Dark!Doctor thoughts, Episode Fix-It: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, Desperate smut, primal urges, using the word primitive because I can do that Summary:

A GITF fixit with fluff, some dark!Ten and echoes of dark!Nine, telepathic bonding, explicit sex, and some good Reinette getting put in her place on repeat. Why? Because I will never be over this. Sorry. No wait no I’m not.

#ficandchips #tenth doctor x rose tyler #david tennant #tenrose #this is straight up wish fulfillment this is what I wanted on screen #if you thought GITF was romantic you should skip this one #bc I am fixing it so that it is all TenRose all the time babeh

12 notes · View notes

megabadbunny · 6 years ago

Text

No Place Like Hohm (7/8)

***

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe. Ten/Rose, all ages, full of angst, fluff, a pinch of romantic bickering, a dash of mutual pining, and a dollop of swashbuckling adventure!)

***

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Chapter 7 | Ch 8

Perhaps later, Mickey thought, he’d have an easier time picking out the discrete parcels of what happened next, establishing some sort of sensible timeline.

(He was, of course, magnificently wrong.)

At the moment, what he knew was this: he was pinned to the ground with the business side of a sharp blade pressed to his throat, until suddenly he wasn’t, and then the crowd went absolutely mad around him, screaming and shouting and stomping their feet until Mickey thought he’d drown in the noise, and what had riled them up like that anyway?, but maybe it didn’t matter because a bunch of those Golden Guards rushed in, and there was lots of shouting amongst the Champions and their captives, and the Guards might have been splitting everyone up or they might have been making everything worse, and there might have been a bit of a scuffle, and Mickey might have punched one of those pratty Guards in the face, which they Very Much Did Not Appreciate, and then he might’ve got a punch-to-the-face of his very own, which might’ve hurt quite badly actually, and now here he was, in some sort of alien infirmary, wondering exactly how he’d come to be in this position, thousands of miles and years away from home, nervously awaiting the decision of a council of humans and horse-people who would determine whether he and his friends deserved a reward or an execution for their impertinence, watching the events of the day play out before him on one of a dozen hi-res screens as he iced a bloody nose.

It was more than a little disconcerting, watching yourself get tackled to the ground. More than that, though, it was a little annoying to watch it while someone poked fun at you in ceaseless mocking commentary.

“All right, but this is my favorite part,” Vareem said gleefully, pointing at the screen as Rose yanked Mickey to the ground to avoid a barrage of dragon-fire. “Look at your face! Your face, Mickey!”

“What was I supposed to do, pout like a supermodel?” Mickey grumped. “That thing was gonna kill me!”

“I didn’t even know faces could make shapes like that!”

Huffing in frustration, Mickey pushed up from the plush bench, pacing round the room for what felt like the hundredth time. Certainly it had to be the hundredth time they’d watched these bloody clips from the stupid Championship, the giant screens in front of them blaring Mickey and Rose and the Doctor’s faces over and over and over again for all in the room to see.

But that, though, that was a thing all its own—it was like ancient Greece out there, how comes it looked like an Apple store exploded in here? It wasn’t just the jaw-droppingly huge television screen, either; it was the gentle music that played from some unseen source, the lights overhead whose color slowly changed with the mood in the room, the curved clear windows that displayed facts and figures and useful tidbits at a mere touch of the glass, the doors that went whoosh in and out of the walls like something out of Star Trek, all of it posh and polished and spotless pristine white. It was almost like the further they got away from the town and the townspeople, the fancier this weird little planet got. It just didn’t make sense. Nor, Mickey thought with a frown, did it make sense that their lot had been tossed in here amongst all the other winners while the City Council decided their fate, instead of being chucked into some sort of alien jail.

If they had access to the TARDIS, Mickey imagined they would have grabbed Dyana and Vareem and hopped out of here lickety-split, but since those Golden Guard blokes had confiscated the TARDIS to whereabouts unknown, that complicated things a bit. At any rate, Mickey supposed he should be grateful, however grudgingly, that the whole instant-death-round thing no longer seemed to be on the table. But there was still time enough for that, he thought glumly.

“How much longer d’you think it’s gonna be?” he asked Dyana. “Feels like it’s been hours.”

“It has been hours,” replied Dyana, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against a pillar. “Not that I’m too keen on them rushing into things. Don’t really want to become someone’s property any sooner than I have to, thanks.”

“Nah, it won’t come to that. The Doctor will talk some sense into the Council, if nothing else.”

Dyana offered a wistful smile. “That would be nice. Wouldn’t get your hopes up, though.”

“Trust me, he’s got a talent for it. Only took him six words to uproot our entire government back home.”

“Sure it did,” teased Vareem.

“It sure did!” Mickey replied. “I wasn’t exaggerating. Just six words, and he toppled the whole thing. Poof! Done and done.”

Vareem frowned. “That’s sort of terrifying.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Well, I reckon it’s not so great for Harriet. And probably not for the people who work for her. And probably it’s causing some problems in the long run,” said Mickey thoughtfully. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine. Point is, he takes care of things. That’s what he does. And sometimes Rose ‘n me, we help. Isn’t that right, Rose?”

Rose did not reply, lost in thought as she sat still on a fluffy white hospital bench, staring at nothingness like it wronged her. A flash of silver peeked from her wrist and upper arm, two of several high-tech mesh bandages peppering Rose’s body, slapped here and there over bruises and cuts. The bandages were good stuff, futuristic high-tech mesh infused with something that would greatly expedite the healing process, or at least that was what Mickey had garnered from the physician’s explanation—the physician, not the Doctor, because he’d waltzed off the moment they’d arrived. Strange, that; Mickey would have expected the Doctor to insist on tending Rose’s wounds himself, or at least he’d hover over the physician while they did it and drive them batty explaining everything they were doing wrong. But no, he’d vanished almost immediately. Mickey wondered why.

A flurry of raised voices erupted from the monitors, pulling Rose’s attention and Mickey’s, too. They both watched as an onscreen Doctor and Rose bickered heatedly. Mickey had every intention of teasing Rose about it, but stopped upon glancing back at her; her gaze sharpened into a glare, her mouth tightening at the sight of the Doctor onscreen, tiny and digital and utterly confused, and oh dear, but this would be a very bad time for teasing, wouldn’t it?

Mickey’s brow furrowed in concern. “Rose?”

Wordlessly, she pushed up from the bench and stalked out of the room.

“All right,” Rose said impatiently, pushing aside the privacy screen—didn’t matter how he might try to hide, she’d recognize the telltale whir and buzz of the sonic screwdriver anywhere. “We can’t keep dancing around this, Doctor. We’ve got to—”

The Doctor’s gaze snapped up to hers, eyes wide in alarm, but that wasn’t what killed Rose’s words, left her breathless, nor was it the sight of him shirtless and exposed, though that was certainly unusual in its own right. No, it was the bandages, dozens and dozens of them. Some of them were wrapped round his arms, others pasted on his shoulders, others still slapped on his flanks, curled around his ribs and peeking round from the back; stepping to the side, Rose could see even more bandages slathered along his spine. What few patches of skin left uncovered by the bandages were dotted with little pink cuts and bluish-yellow bruises and angry purple welts, a perverse sort of rainbow playing out across his skin.

Bruises and cuts and wounds, a whole tapestry of hurt, and—and how long had he been wearing those special healing bandages, now? They’d been waiting here for hours, hours, and the bandages had already helped Rose and the others so much—so why did it look like the Doctor had fought and lost a round with a heavyweight champion? Or were the original wounds just that bad? When had he even gotten those wounds?

Had he been hurting this entire time, and Rose just hadn’t noticed, somehow?

“God,” she breathed, aghast. She reached out to touch him, but drew back at the very last second. She didn’t want to put pressure anywhere he hurt. “What is all this? What happened?”

“Erm, like you said earlier, average line-of-duty stuff,” said the Doctor just a little too quickly, avoiding Rose’s gaze. He continued his work with the sonic, scanning something in his hand--that pet-chip-thing, by the looks of it--and he frowned. “Just a couple of action hero wounds. Normal stuff. Standard. Run-of-the-mill, even. Nothing a couple of Beznisian battle-bandages can’t cure—and isn’t that funny, that they’ve got battle-bandages here? Definitely unexpected, considering the technology outside these walls doesn’t appear to have advanced much past the Middle Ages, but then, I suppose we’ve encountered stranger and more out-of-place things, haven’t we?”

Rose swallowed against the suspicion bubbling up sickly in her stomach. “Doctor, how’d you get hurt?”

“I just told you,” said the Doctor, pocketing the sonic and the pet-chip. “Standard stuff. Nothing worth discussing. Certainly nothing worth worrying about.” He stood up, grabbing his shirts from where he’d discarded them and pulling the tee-shirt over his head, only wincing a little as he did so. “Now, they did offer me some acetylsalicylic acid to help with the discomfort, and that actually is worth worrying about, because you know what they say about Time Lords and acetylsalicylic acid: they don’t mix. Or rather, they shouldn’t. They occasionally do. But that’s why you always have a handy spare bar of chocolate on hand!” He pulled on his oxford and hastily buttoned every other button. “There’s a bit of advice for you: Always keep spare chocolate around, Rose Tyler; you never know when you might need a good source of simple trigclycerides.

“Anyhoo, now that we’ve all had a chance to rest and recover a bit, I rather think it’s time to get going, don’t you? Shall we collect Mr. Mickey and the TARDIS and call it a day?”

“Doctor…”

“Speaking of chocolate, it’s probably time we restocked, or added to the current stock, as it were. You can never have too much chocolate, you know. It’s demonstrably proven to be the one thing in the universe you can never have too-much-of—”

“Doctor, please,” Rose interrupted, firmer this time. “Would you just—”

“Finish saving the day, first? Yes, of course,” said the Doctor. He grabbed his suit jacket and pulled it on. “Give a good speech, give a good glare, give the baddies a good what-for, don’t you reckon?” He whipped his coat about his shoulders with only the tiniest of grimaces. “Oh, and good job on recognizing what the pet-chip-thing was, by the way. It gave me a couple ideas, so I scanned and poked around a bit and I think it might end up being rather important after all. But isn’t that always nice, when something so small actually ends up being rather big in the grand scheme of things? Always a fun revelation, never a dull moment there.

“All right, shall we?” he asked, setting off before Rose had a chance to answer.

She hung back for a moment, hesitating. Even if she didn’t recall every moment of the adventure today—which she did, in startling detail—the footage playing on the screens overhead, over and over and over again, would have reminded Rose that there was no rational explanation of how the Doctor had sustained those wounds. There was no moment when he would have received them, no time he could have received them, and there was certainly no reason. Except as she watched the scene playing out onscreen, following the progress of her tiny digital self as she struggled to steer a sickly-glowing dragon, and it disappeared behind the mountainside in a hail of fire and a thunderous boom that shook the speakers around her, Rose realized that there was, in fact, a moment when the Doctor could have been hurt, and moreover, there was certainly a reason.

(And the screen flooded black with smoke, and Rose remembered awakening, groggy and sore but relatively unhurt despite everything, and what had happened to the dragon, and where was the Doctor, and was he hurt, and later, Mickey couldn’t believe she’d survived, and how…?)

Worrying her lip between her teeth, Rose followed after him.

The Doctor, Dyana thought with a sick-clenching throat, was going to get them all killed.

(It was not surprising that the guard had no inclination to bring the Doctor and co. before City Council; what was surprising was how easily the Doctor managed to convince them otherwise, and how suddenly, in a matter of seconds it seemed, the group was bursting through the Council doors.)

“About time,” Mickey muttered under his breath, but everyone else stayed quiet as their Golden Guardsman guide typed a series of characters into the keypad next to the chamber door. Dyana couldn’t guess what held Rose or the Doctor’s tongue, but a look over at Vareem let her know that Vareem, too, was likely clenching her teeth against the urge to vomit, fighting all of the instincts screaming at her to run, run, run while she had the chance, that they were both silent for the same reason:

This was it, for them.

Their entire lives had been building up to this single event, this single conversation, this one moment, a slice of time dangling their futures precariously over the knife-sharp edge of a narrow precipice. After this handful of moments, one way or the other--whether they were punished for their insolence, executed for their crimes, or maybe, just maybe, pardoned and offered freedom--their lives would forever change.

The robotic chime of the keypad sliced through the silence, paving the way for the heavy groan of the doors as they swung inward, revealing, bit-by-bit, the darkened chambers within. The second the doors parted enough, the Doctor surged on ahead, Rose and Mickey following immediately after; Dyana and Vareem hung back, frozen in uncertainty and fear. It was all good and well for Rose and her blokes to forge ahead without a second thought, but they didn’t know the Council like everyone on Hohm did. They didn’t know enough to be afraid.

(For all her plans of rebellion, Dyana had never imagined she’d meet the Council in the flesh--she had hoped to escape the Championship with her freedom intact, or die trying. Never had it crossed her mind that fate would bring her here, face-to-face with her planet’s own personal devils, confronting the pieces of filth responsible for so much death and destruction. The very same monsters who had sanctioned the her sister’s murder.)

Dyana closed her eyes against the memory that fought its way to the surface, her fists clenching in anger. She forced herself to drink in a deep, calming breath. It didn’t matter how terrified she was. She would do what she could with this chance--a chance her sister never got.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed Vareem’s hand, squeezing it; Vareem squeezed back, as if in thanks. Dyana led them both in.

Blinking against the dark, Dyana waited for her eyes to adjust as the Councilors murmured in response, and she grimaced at what she saw. It was about what she’d expected, a mixture of old money and new tech, marble pillars and velvet curtains blossoming out of the semi-darkness amidst softly glowing lights and screens. A grand table spread out before them, a great polished wooden thing that cost more than Dyana’s family could earn in an entire generation; behind it, gilded in the finest golds and silks and gems and slim electronic accoutrements the surrounding systems had to offer, sat a half-dozen humans and horse-people, gazing down imperiously.

The Council. Dyana felt Vareem shudder next to her.

Rose glanced back at the two of them and offered an encouraging smile; Dyana knew she was telling them, without words, the same things Mickey had said earlier. The Doctor will help fix everything. It’ll all work out in the end.

Gods, Dyana hoped they were right.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded one of the Councilors.

“Six hours and fourteen minutes,” the Doctor announced as he strode confidently forward. “And eleven seconds, in case you were wondering.”

The Council stared down at the group, each of them distinctly unimpressed. “Guard, we did not send for these offenders. Why have you brought them before us?”

“And counting,” continued the Doctor, consulting his wrist as if he wore a timepiece there--which, he didn’t. “That’s more enough time to collect the facts and render a decision, wouldn’t you say?”

“We would not,” said another Councilor. “We have not yet decided your fate.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about your decision,” the Doctor replied cheerfully. “I’m talking about mine.”

The Council stared down at them, unimpressed. “Guard, remove the offenders,” ordered the Prime Councilor, “and report to your superior for suitable punishment.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the Doctor, waving his hand dismissively before the guard could reply. “In fact, here in a few moments, none of this--” he continued, gesturing to the room around him, “--will be necessary, because here in a few moments, none of this will be in operation. See--”

Flashing the Council a cheeky grin, the Doctor rummaged around in his pockets, presenting a slim black wallet that he flipped open, displaying its contents for all to see. Normally Dyana might have delighted in seeing all of these stuffy upper-crusts breaking out of their dusty indifference, some of them stiffening in alarm at the sight of the wallet while others grew pale, but she didn’t understand--when the wallet flashed her way, all she saw inside was a small white paper that simply read: Trust me :D.

She and Vareem glanced at each other in confusion, then turned to Rose, a question half-formed on their lips. Rose shot them a little wink.

“See, things are about to change around here,” said the Doctor, absolutely beaming with mischief.

Even the Prime Councilor seemed surprised at what she saw in the wallet--which, Dyana could only imagine, must have differed wildly from what she and Vareem each saw, somehow. “I see,” the Prime Councilor murmured. Her gaze switched back to the Doctor, her mouth pressed into a thin smile. “My apologies, High Commander. We were unaware the Shadow Proclamation had chosen to honor us with their presence today. Were we not?” she asked, glancing at her fellow Councilors, as if perhaps one of them had invited a guest to the party without her permission. Dyana wondered if any of the lower Councilors would end the day without a head attached to their neck.

“Had we known a member of the Proclamation would deign to enter our humble competition, we would have proceeded quite differently,” said the Prime Councilor. “Forgive us, High Commander. You and your party are, of course, free to leave, winnings and usual fees fully intact, and we will deliver your ship promptly.”

“Excellent, most excellent. And after that, you’ll dismantle the Championship, lift your technology ban, and all of you will resign from office, effective immediately.”

The Council broke out in a murmur, but the Prime Councilor simply glared at the Doctor, her smile tightening unpleasantly. “We beg your pardon?”

“Which you most certainly will not receive,” replied the Doctor. “I’m not interested in winnings or usual fees, whatever they might be--”

“Sounds an awful lot like bribes,” muttered Rose darkly.

“--which, I suppose, sort of makes me your worst nightmare, doesn’t it?” the Doctor laughed. “After all, you must have had great success bribing anyone who came before me, mustn’t you? It’s the only thing that makes sense with all of the statutes-violations and felonies bloodying up your ledger. No way you’d have been permitted to run things so poorly for so long, otherwise.”

The Prime Councilor drew back, eyes flashing. “High Commander, those are very serious allegations, none of which, I assure you, you have any evidence to support.”

“So you’re not forcing people into your stupid little knockoff Olympics, then?” Mickey demanded.

“Or promoting the use of kidnapping and date-rape drugs?” added Rose.

“Or denying us access to vital and sometimes life-saving technology?” blurted out Vareem.

“Our people have been denied nothing,” the Prime Councilor said sharply. “The Honorable Council ensures that the people of Hohm do not descend into anarchy and chaos. We are not your mothers and fathers; it is not our place to award trinkets and treats. We cannot be blamed for those of you who have not earned your way.”

“And what about giving us away as bloody prizes, huh?” Dyana spat out before she could stop herself. “What about pawning us off on a bunch of rich off-worlders, just moving us like we’re so much rubbish? You gonna tell us you don’t do that, either?”

The Prime Councilor turned Dyana’s way. Dyana forced herself to hold the woman’s gaze even as she shuddered at the cold.

“Certainly the Honorable Council would never do such a thing,” replied the Prime Councilor. “But should any member of our population choose to volunteer themselves as bride-prizes in the Championship, we will not stop them; your lives are your own, to do with as you choose.”

“Horse shit,” Dyana tried to say, but her words were trampled by the Prime Councilor’s continued insistence that “Freedom, on Hohm, is valued above all things, even the freedom to devote oneself as a winning token. We cannot strip our people of their liberty to make such decisions, however inadvisable they may seem to others. We will not deprive our people of the right to choose.”

“Except we don’t choose at all,” Dyana argued. “Your Champions choose for us.”

“And is it not a great honor to be chosen by one of our Champions? For our Champions to pay a generous price in your name, to fight and compete and strive for your hand?”

“No!” shouted Dyana. “We don’t want that--you know we don’t want that!”

“Save your breath, Dyana,” said Vareem, pulling her back with a gentle hand on her arm. “It’s not like they can hear you over their jangling purses, anyway.”

Dyana managed not to pull out of Vareem’s grasp, but only just barely, and only because she was surprised at Vareem’s candor in front of the Councilor. She didn’t think Vareem felt so strongly about all of this. She’d never been happier to be wrong.

“It is unfortunately true that few things speak louder than money,” the Doctor agreed. “Which, I suspect, is why most of your Champions, especially the wealthy offworlders, pay such a hefty fee to enter the Championship. Does that sound about right?” he asked Dyana and Vareem. “Forgive me if I’m wrong; it’s just a hunch, as Mr. Smith and I didn’t exactly enter the competition via the usual circumstances, sort of bypassed the whole exchanging-of-money bit.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dyana replied. “They call it an entry fee or a fee to participate, but everyone knows what it really is. They put out a call to everyone in the surrounding systems, and anyone with money can pay a fortune to come here and either compete for a wife or watch the blood spilling from the stands. We’re out there risking our lives, stripped of our freedom, and rich offworlders just sit there and watch it like it’s bloody theatre.”

“All while the Council sits up here with their silks and their gold and they watch everything from behind their pristine screens,” Vareem spat.

“And they don’t even allow us to own so much as a telecommunications device.”

“Of course they don’t,” scoffed Vareem. “Otherwise they know we’d band together and stop them getting rich off violence and selling us as slaves!”

“We’re Hohm’s greatest export,” Dyana said bitterly.

“As I said,” the Prime Councilor replied, her voice as smooth and cool as the marble surrounding them, “you have no evidence to support your claims. Nor, I assure you, will you find any.”

“You know, on some level that may be true,” the Doctor admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “On the other hand, I’m certain there are scores upon scores of native Hohmish citizens who would loudly object to their mistreatment at your hands, if given the opportunity to do so--is that an accurate presumption, Dyana? Vareem?”

“Yes,” Vareem nodded, as Dyana muttered a sharp, “Very.”

“Although, if pressed by the Proclamation, I’m certain you would do your utmost to convince your citizens into stating otherwise,” the Doctor continued, to the Prime Councilor, “via your usual methods of coercion, pressure, threats, violence, et cetera et cetera. There’s the video footage of the Championship, of course, but certainly that could be easily erased, if it hasn’t been already. And unfortunately an official investigation into your many (many) sentient-beings’-rights violations could take weeks, months, possibly years, even if we did have physical, tangible evidence at our disposal. Sadly, folks like Dyana and Vareem don’t have that sort of time.

“You know what they do have, though?” the Doctor asked, and here his smile grew downright manic. “They have us,” he said, gesturing to Rose, Mickey, and himself. “And one of us has some of your oft-requested evidence conveniently hiding right in his pockets.”

He withdrew something from his coat-pocket, a small, rectangular silver thing with a series of numbers stamped across its face, and tossed it onto the table before the Prime Councilor. It clattered over the wood and slid to a stop beneath the Prime Councilor’s nose; unmoving, she peered down at it, lip curled in a disgusted sneer. “What is this?” she asked.

“That, my dear Prime Councilor, is an identifying integrated circuit, also known as a passive integrated transponder tag, outfitted with the very latest in local radio frequency identification and remote control technology; in short, as my brilliant friend here just happened to notice, it’s a pet chip,” the Doctor explained. “But Doctor, whatever are you doing with a loose pet chip floating about your considerable pockets? you might ask. Why, I’ve got a loose pet chip floating around my considerable pockets because I found it in the arena after the oh-so-mysterious explosion of a dragon, and it has yielded a surprising amount of helpful information, I would answer. In fact, I would go on to say, a scan of this particular pet chip just so happens to inform me that its original host was a squamata basilisk draconus, a species that is massively illegal to be imported, purchased, or otherwise owned in this quadrant of the universe due to its status as an endangered species.”

“You want to shut us down because of illegal animal ownership?” asked one of the Councilors, amused.

“No, I want to shut you down because you’re denying your people access to things they want and need purely in the name of control, you’re turning a profit off violence, you’re running a thriving slave trade, and you’re dabbling in illegal pet ownership,” the Doctor replied. “Oh, and the fact that you murdered a endangered animal in cold blood. Can’t overlook that.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the Council, but the Prime Councilor did not flinch. “Once again, I must assert that you have no evidence to support your claim--”

“Ah, but I do! It’s right there on the chip. It’s oh-so-helpful and absolutely packed with information. For example, it tells me who engineered the dragon, and when, and where, and why, and most importantly, for whom. And that whom is you!”

The Prime Councilor glared at him. “The Honorable Council would never--”

“Now, admittedly the chip doesn’t tell me how or why you inserted a remote detonation device into your pet dragon, but it doesn’t have to; anyone with a working brain can tell you that,” the Doctor breezed on as if the Prime Councilor had never spoken. “You, being fully aware of this creature’s status as an endangered (and therefore protected) species, asked the engineers of this specimen to implant a remote detonation device in case something happened and you needed to take dramatic action very, very quickly--say, for example, a devastatingly handsome agent from the Shadow Proclamation just happened to drop by unannounced, or a pair of disgruntled Championship participants stole your dragon for a joy ride and flew a little too close to the sun, figuratively speaking, and you lot got nervous. All you needed to do was press a little button, and boom goes the dragon.”

He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “Unfortunately for you, the dragon might have gone boom, but that pet chip? It’s made out of none other than some of your very own Hohmish ore, and that stuff is nigh indestructible. The chip survived totally intact, with all your damning evidence written right across its face. Really, you should have made your money exporting your ore instead of your citizens, but you know what they say: hindsight’s 20/20, though there’s no time like the present to start sporting a pair of spectacles.

“Anyhoo, I may not have physical proof that you’re violating your people’s rights, but I have plenty of physical proof to charge you with multiple counts of violations of Proclamation Article 72.3 subsection 17-B, being the illicit breeding and destruction of an endangered, protected species,” said the Doctor, his hands clasped behind his back like an office manager delivering an only-mildly-unpleasant presentation to his wayward employees. “My report is on its way to my superiors right now, with the full details. Once they receive it, and find you guilty of your charges--which, make no mistake, they certainly will; dragon-breeders are notorious for turning on their clientele, no confidentiality amongst thieves I’m afraid--you’ll be stripped of your titles, fined of all your wealth, and thrown into a Proclamation prison for a minimum of ten years.”

A self-indulgent little laugh escaped his lips. “And once you’re locked away in prison, it’s only a matter of time before your other crimes are uncovered. After all, with you lot in the brig, who’s going to intimidate your citizens into silence for you?”

Finally, the Prime Councilor had the decency to look nervous, and inwardly, Dyana rejoiced.

“We could kill you where you stand,” the Prime Councilor said, her words slicing the air like shards of ice.

“Could do, but it wouldn’t stop the report from going through,” the Doctor replied. “It’s already on its way. No one can stop it going through, except me.”

Councilors whispered nervously amongst themselves in a low susurrus of mounting desperation. “What do you want?” the Prime Councilor asked the Doctor.

“Ooh, is that another veiled reference to a bribe? How exciting. It just so happens that what I desire is for you--all of you--to resign from your posts, effective immediately.”

“You can’t be serious,” one of the Councilors balked.

The Doctor laughed. “Of course I can! In fact, for every time you argue with me, or say any other silly or inane thing, I’ll add another punishment to the list. This time, you get to donate seventy-five percent of your total net worth to your citizenry.” He grinned beatifically. “Would you like to argue some more?”

“Please, be reasonable,” protested another Councilor, and the Doctor just chuckled in response. “And now I’m banning you from the planet Hohm altogether,” he said. “Tomorrow morning, you’re off the planet. All of you. It’s that, or prison for a decade.”

His grin grew sharp. “A decade, if you’re lucky.”

This time no one dared argue with him; the only response the Doctor received was a bunch of open-mouthed, disbelieving stares.

“Uh-oh, hear that?” asked the Doctor, pointing to the imaginary timepiece on his wrist. “Sounds like it’s make-a-decision-already o’clock.”

“You would really break our world like this?” asked the Prime Councilor. “Break our foundations, shatter our economy, leave our people leaderless and wandering?”

“I’m sure your new Councilors-in-interim will smooth things along nicely.”

“There are no other Councilors. We have not chosen successors.”

“Nor would any reasonable person permit you to. I am referring, of course, to Dyana and Vareem,” the Doctor replied, brow quirked in amusement, as if the Prime Councilor was terribly stupid. “Both excellent candidates for Councilor-ship. That is, if they’d like the job?”

All eyes turned to Vareem and Dyana, and Dyana’s throat ran dry. She had strode into the arena fully expecting to escape, or die trying. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined any of this would happen. Never had she dared hope that she would help make it happen! And now, this bright, shining gift sat just before her, the chance to help guide her world into the future, to make things better for everyone, to give every person on Hohm the choices they needed, the choices they deserved…

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She wished her sister had lived to see this. She would have been so, so proud.

“Yes,” Dyana whispered, warmth blossoming from her cheeks to her fingertips to her toes, bringing joy and hope and relief flooding with it. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

“Me too,” added Vareem, nodding emphatically.

The Doctor beamed at them. “Wonderful. You’ll both do brilliantly. I’m certain of it.”

He turned back to the Council, clapping his hands together in anticipation. “All right! You’ve got a choice before you, which quite frankly in rather generous considering the choices you’ve robbed your people of over the years; you can voluntarily resign, leaving behind most of your fortunate and all of your privilege and prestige, but living otherwise modest lives somewhere far, far away from the people you’ve hurt, or, my report goes through, my superior officers at the Shadow Proclamation get a nice little arrest warrant handy, and the swift hammer of justice strikes fast, hard, and without mercy.”

His smirk was one of the smuggest things Dyana had ever seen, as if he knew the answer even before asking, but wanted to savor the satisfaction of it, anyway. “So,” said the Doctor. “Which’ll it be?”

***

Rose was willing to bet the Councilors had never made a decision so quickly in all their pampered lives.

“How are you doing?” she asked in a low voice, sidling up to Dyana as they watched the Council exiting their chambers, some of them leaving with heads held high and proud while others slunk away like perhaps, if they tried hard enough, they might disappear into the shadows before anyone caught them. “You gonna be all right?”

Dyana shrugged, eyes wide. “I think so? I don’t know. I never expected anything like this to happen. I think I’m sort of in shock, actually.”

Chuckling, she shook her head. “Kind of funny, though--they’ve been so horrible, for so long, made such a huge mess and made things so bad for so many people--only to be brought down by something so small.”

“Ah, I sort of love it when that happens. Poetic justice.”

Dyana shifted, shooting Rose a glance full of suspicion. “And you deliver that sort of thing often, then? The poetic justice?”

“We’ve been known to,” said Rose with a smile.

“As agents of the Shadow Proclamation.”

“But of course,” replied Rose, tapping the side of her nose knowingly, and the two of them laughed.

They both fell quiet as a pair of Golden Guards wheeled in the TARDIS from its hiding spot somewhere in confiscation-land, watching as Vareem poked about the ship in confusion and Mickey excitedly explained it to her. The Doctor was oddly quiet as he looked on, patting the TARDIS doors in greeting, like the arm of an old friend.

“Wouldn’t have mistaken any of you for the authoritarian type,” Dyana said thoughtfully. “Doesn’t really seem like any of you care too much for any sort of rules.”

As if he could sense her watching, the Doctor glanced Rose’s way. Their gazes locked. His expression was neutral, perfectly inscrutable. But something about it twisted in Rose’s gut anyway.

“But then again I didn’t think the Doctor’s paper-thing said anything important, so, I dunno,” Dyana continued. “I guess looks can be pretty deceiving, huh?”

The Doctor ducked into the TARDIS, breaking their gaze. Rose frowned.

“Yeah,” she murmured, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I guess so.”

“Okay, look. I know you don’t want to talk about this,” Rose called out, closing the TARDIS doors quietly behind her. “Not really, not in any way that actually means anything. And that’s fine. You don’t have to talk. Just listen.”

Surprised, the Doctor looked up from the console, watching wordlessly as Rose fidgeted in place. God, why was this so difficult?

She swallowed, loudly. “You hurt me,” she said. “Back on that spaceship. Back in France. You said things and you did things that hurt me.”

Before the Doctor had a chance to reply, Rose shook her head, rushing along with, “Maybe you didn’t mean to, maybe you didn’t think about it that way. Maybe you didn’t think about it at all. And I mean, I guess that matters, at least a little. But when you share your life with someone--because that’s what we’re doing, Doctor, we’re sharing our lives right now, that’s what’s happening whether you want to call it that or not--when you share your life with someone, you have to think about how your actions affect others. You have to.”

The Doctor didn’t reply, just kept watching her, his brow knit in concentration, or maybe concern.

“I know you’re hurt because of me,” Rose said, her voice quiet. “Because you protected me. That’s what happened, yeah? I don’t remember, and it was too dark and smoky to make it out on the screens back there--but you kept me safe when we were falling. Right? Cos I don’t have barely a scratch on me, but you look beat to hell under all those layers. So you must’ve protected me, put your arms around me and broken the fall, somehow. You must have done.”

Now the Doctor couldn’t meet her gaze, scratching his neck uncomfortably as he looked away.

“I wanted to say thank you for that,” Rose said, forcing her words to stay clear and strong, not to shake the way they wanted to. “I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you. Honestly, I’d probably be dead several times over if it wasn’t for you. Of course, the same is probably true in reverse. But that’s what we’re both there for, yeah? To watch out for each other, keep each other company, keep each other safe. To trust each other.”

Drawing a deep breath, Rose closed her eyes. “What you did a few days back--leaving us behind on the spaceship, kissing Reinette and bragging about it after--that was a violation of trust,” she said, her cheeks flushing red-hot with embarrassment. “Whether or not you meant it that way. It was--it felt like a betrayal.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him; big mistake. He was staring into the distance, mouth tight, jaw taut, fingers clenched round the edge of the control desk. To an outsider, it might have appeared that he was fighting not to be angry at Rose; Rose knew him well enough to suspect he was trying not to show his anger with himself. The thought broke Rose’s heart.

She kept going.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” she said, carefully. “But you need to know how it felt to me.”

Silently, the Doctor issued a curt nod.

Rose suppressed a sigh. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she felt disappointed, somehow. Although really, she’d given him the option not to speak, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised he was taking her up on the offer. Still, she’d hoped…

But that didn’t matter. She’d said her piece and he’d heard it, and acknowledged it, at least a little bit. That was worth something, right?

Rose turned to leave, to give the Doctor some space, but stopped in her tracks at the sound of him clearing his throat.

“Rose?”

She turned back to look at him, her heart convulsing painfully in her chest, so hard she thought her ribs might crack from it. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” said the Doctor, slowly. “What I did--it was a betrayal.”

Now Rose’s pulse was hammering in her ears. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

The Doctor’s gaze met hers. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Relief flooded Rose like waters through a broken dam. Before her brain had a chance to make any choice in the matter, her feet had carried her across the console room, up the stairs, and launched her straight into the Doctor, her arms wrapping snugly round him, purely of their own volition, she was sure. She squeezed him tight in a reassuring hug and he responded in kind, embracing her in a way that felt only a little bit desperate. Rose buried her face against his shirt and let out a long, pent-up sigh of release.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice muffled by his shirt.

The Doctor did not reply, but hugged her harder instead.

***

Previous | Next

***

note: once again, as much as i wish i had come up with it all on my own, the conversation about semantics re: betrayal is heavily (heavily!) inspired by some writings from my good friend, the insanely talented @ksgsworld , who is super amazeballs <3

#picandchips #ficandchips #tenrose #tenxrose #ten x rose #gitf fixit #rose x ten #otp of legend #mbb writes #mbb fic #OMFG Y'ALL I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS OFF AND ON FOR A WHOLE. FUCKING. YEAR #and it's FINALLY READY #a;sldjflskdjf;lskdfj #ALDSFJSLKDFJSLDIFJWLOERJISLDKFJWAOIRJAOEFIJAWELRIJ

49 notes · View notes

thedalektables · 3 years ago

Text

Worth the Monsters

Written by #doctorhil on TS

Tenth Doctor (K) 10k.

Rose is heartbroken after her experiences on the 'SS Madame de Pompadour', so she packs her bags...

Discover this fix through quotes, comments, reviews or author’s notes (x)

Find another fic to fit your mood (x) View our reclists (x) Or get teased (x)

#Doctor Who #Ten x Rose #Worth the Monsters #doctorhil #gitf fixit #fic rec

5 notes · View notes

ao3feed-tenxrose · 5 years ago

Text

Sorry about your fireplace, Madame!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2QjNSu9

by naturalblues

Words: 5704, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Doctor Who (2005)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sarah Jane Smith, Mickey Smith, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, King Louis - Character, K9 (Doctor Who)

Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Additional Tags: Telepathic Bond, Soul Bond, Dark!Doctor thoughts

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2QjNSu9

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tenxrose

3 notes · View notes

promisedyouforever · 6 years ago

Text

i want to write

anything, hahaha.

But really, I’d like to write a GitF fixit.

The catch is that to write it, I’d have to watch the episode again.

#gitf #nope #nopenopenope

30 notes · View notes

doctorroseficreclists · 5 years ago

Text

update: August 2020, part 4

part one | part two | part three

Welp, after having some $%#@*&@!!! computer problems and being bogged down by work, I’m back to harass you with the last of this...um...this interval of an indeterminate period of time’s update! 😁

(Psst.. Please thank @chiaroscuroverse for the fic bonanza in the AU department!)

fic rec list masterpost

💘 = adult rating (For longer fics, this likely only applies to some chapters.)

EPISODES

Added to Episodes: The Idiot’s Lantern

Reassurance by @gallifrey1sburning (ficlet, all ages)

Sight by BadWolf256 (short story, teen)

Added to Episodes: Impossible Planet/Satan Pit

Battle by Rynne (short story, teen)

Letting Go by Vanderslice (ficlet, teen)

Added to Episodes Beyond Rose's Canon Era: Human Nature/FoB

Always Her Doctor by @chocolatequeennk (novella, teen)

Added to FixIts: GitF General

Got to Be There by @davinasgirlfriend (TenxRose, ThirteenxRose, short story)

A Question of Worth by @countessselena (all ages, short story)

Repercussions by littleredkoalabear (teen, short story)

Added to Rose in Series 3 (Series 3 Rewrites)

A Place for Us to Dream by @dimensionhoppingrose (novel, part of series, teen)

To Lead Herself Home by @chocolatequeennk (series, teen)

The Doctor and the Wolf by MerryweatherWho (series, teen)

💘 Touched by an Angel by @lastbluetardis (Blink, short story)

Don't Blink by rosewarren (Blink, novel, teen)

HULLABALOO

Added to Christmas: Misteltoe

Never Been Kissed by @lillibetm3 (Nine)

Added to Christmas: Nine

All I Want for Christmas Is You by @lillibetm3 (teen, short story)

Added to Christmas: Ten

Christmas Joy by @chocolatequeennk (short story)

Christmas Tree by @lizann5869 (ficlet)

Added to Christmas: Tentoo

Time Lord Technology and Hidden Depths by @ialwayscomewhenyoucall

Added to General AU: Nine

💘 A Death Defying Romance by @paigenotblank (the Doctor is Death au, short story)

Love Always, The Doctor by @chiaroscuroverse & @fleurdeneuf (EightxRose, NinexRose, novella, teen)

The Time Lord’s Wife by frin tennant (NinexRose, TenxRose, adult, The Time Traveler’s Wife au)

Added to AU: Artist

Fixed Focus by @mariechambers (TenxRose, short story, teen)

Added to AU: Bodyguard

An Unwilling Arrangement by @doctor-who-hears-a-horton (TenxRose, all ages, novella)

Added to AU: Crime

teeth and thorns by @his-braveheart (NinexRose, Black Widow au, short story)

guns and horses by momentmusical (TenxRose, spies, short story)

💘 The Blue Box Case by @kelkat9 (TenxRose, spies, novel)

Take the Money and Run by @gingerteaonthetardis and @lotsofthinkythoughts (EightxRose, crime, novella)

Added to AU: Fairytale

The garden where all beauties be by @gingerteaonthetardis (Nine, short story)

obscured by @perfectlyrose (Nine, novella, wip)

Once upon a time… by @asthewheelwills (Nine, short story)

Red by @badwolfxoncomingstorm (kaynibbler16) (Ten,short story)

Added to AU: Films

The Academy by @kelkat9 (X-Men, Ten, novel)

As The Sun Will Rise by helplesslynerdy (Beauty and the Beast, Ten, series)

💘 Elsewhere by @fadewithfury (Somewhere In Time, Ten, novel)

He Gave Me the World by @buffyann23 (While You Were Sleeping, Ten, novella)

Opening Walls by Toppbanana (Anastasia, Ten, novel)

A Scribble In Time by @deathlyfandoms (Tangled, Ten, novella)

Stars On Her Ceiling by @davinasgirlfriend (The Shape of Water, Ten, novella)

Stowaways by @ofstormsandwolves (Treasure Planet, Ten, novella)

The Time Lord’s Wife by frin tennant (The Time Traveler’s Wife, novella)

Who’s Got Mail by @whoinwhoville (You’ve Got Mail, Ten, novella)

Added to AU: Regency/Historical

the end of east by momentmusical (tenxrose, short story)

💘 Where You Tend a Rose by @illogical-fascinations (tenxrose, novella)

Added to AU: Royalty

kings are cowards by @rose-tylers (onlyeverthus) (Ten, short story)

Once Upon A Time and Far Far Away by WordMusician (Ten, novella)

The Princess, And Him by @doctor-who-hears-a-horton (Ten, novella)

Added to AU: Singer

I Write The Songs by @licieoic (ten, uni au, teen)

💘 The Vortex Boys by @aintfraidanoghosts (ten, novella)

The Lads From Gallifrey by @kelkat9, @whoinwhoville, and timelord1 (nine, ten, eleven, short story, teen)

💘 Air From My Lungs to Give Voice to Your Song by @licieoic (ten, au dark!doctor, warnings)

Added to AU: Single Parent

Electrical Impulses by @asthewheelwills (Nine, novella, all ages, wip)

Love Always, The Doctor by @chiaroscuroverse & @fleurdeneuf (Nine, novella, teen)

Added to AU: School

Ready, Set, Let's Go by @deathlyfandoms

Five times John Smith & Rose Tyler saved each other from getting doused, and one time they didn't by @kilodalton

The Perils of Pink by @deathlyfandoms

In the Rain by @emkaywho

Rooftop Picnics by @perfectlyrose

Running through the High School hallways by @asthewheelwills

With A Little Bit of Luck by @deathlyfandoms

Added to AU: College

PLEASE NOTE: I think something went wrong with this list at some point! I'm sure it is my fault, because I always feel compelled to rewrite the HTML to clean up tumblr being tumblr... (bad codemonkey me!) There seems to be more below than is actually on the list itself! @chiaroscuroverse, let me talk to you about this! I know some of these are also superhero aus. If there are any corrections, I'll post them later.

Catalysis by @lastbluetardis (series)

Constellations of Their Own Making (The Galaxy's Edge Remix) by @sequencefairy (short story)

💘 First year by OiWatchItSpaceman (short story)

Got to Be There by @davinasgirlfriend

Her Guitar Hero by @asthewheelwills (short story)

Match Set by @bluedawn0123 (short story)

Misunderstandings and Reconciliations by @dryadalis (short story)

An Old-Fashioned Correspondence by @deathlyfandoms (short story)

Pins and Needles by @professorspork (short story)

Sweetheart by @stoprobbersfic

Uni Professors AU by @perfectlyrose (NinexRose, ficlet)

Uni-verse by @jellyneau-xo

[ETA: Superheroes]

Girl of Steel by @rosa-acicularis

Hero/Heroine by @chocolatequeennk

Heroes of Tardis City by @timeladyofthesith

In a Single Bound by @allrightfine

Little Secrets by @allrightfine

Super Bad Wolf by @gallifreyburning

Strike of Lightning by @goingtothetardis

#update #august 2020 #part 4

79 notes · View notes

megabadbunny · 7 years ago

Text

No Place Like Hohm (6/8)

An awkward silence fell between them, punctuated only by the sounds of the fires cracking and spitting behind the Doctor. He studied Rose’s face openly, searching, like her expression might reveal something her words didn’t.

***

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Chapter 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8

“Well, Doctor?” said Rose, not even bothering to mask the fear in her voice as the dragon opened its mouth, its throat glowing a bright flame-yellow hue. “Don’t suppose you’ve come up with some kind of brilliant plan in the last few minutes?”

The Doctor pursed his lips, fingers tapping nervously against the chain pressed between their palms. Then, his eyes widened, as if in realization.

“No,” he said, and a shot her a manic grin. “But I do have a spectacularly bad one.”

.03 seconds’ worth of calculations later, the Doctor slipped the sonic out of his jacket-pocket, cranked it up to setting 183, aimed for the nearest giant speaker hanging overhead, and hoped, desperately, that this sort of thing worked better on dragons than it did on bears.

“Cover your ears!” he shouted, dropping Rose’s hand.

The instant she complied, the Doctor let loose a wave from the sonic, hitting the speaker with a feedback loop that split the air with a hideous shriek. The stadium filled with the cacophony of a hundred screaming banshees, a thousand nails scratching teeth-gritting lines down a blackboard in a screech that struck like a dentist’s whining drill to the teeth. Dimly, the Doctor registered Mickey and the others crying out, but their noises were swallowed by the many-voiced shouts from the audience, tens of thousands of people scrambling to shut out the horrible, godsforsaken racket without any success.

“What did you do?” Rose cried over the din, her eyes watering.

“Music to tame the beast!” the Doctor replied, pointing at the dragon up ahead. Howling in pain, it violently thrashed its head about, as if it might be able to dislodge the shrill-shrieking ghosts from its skull.

“You call this music?” Rose feebly tried to joke.

“That was figurative—but tame the beast was quite literal!”

Rose’s eyes widened. “What?”

The dragon crumpled into itself, backing up toward the mountain, eyes clenched shut against the clamor—this was the best chance they were going to get.

“Come on!” the Doctor shouted, grabbing Rose’s hand and bolting toward the dragon at a breakneck pace. Its wings flapped heavily against the ground, kicking up a great wind that tore at the Doctor’s hair and clothes and buffeted him at every turn, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just pulled Rose along and prayed that she could keep up, that the dragon would be blind to them just a little bit longer.

Then the ruckus all around them cut off like an unplugged radio.

Silence.

Slowly, the dragon’s eyes slid open, glazed and unfocused, but the Doctor set his jaw and kept his legs pumping-pumping-pumping—if they were quick enough, if they could just get a little closer, then maybe, just maybe—

“Doctor!” Rose gasped behind him.

“Now!” he shouted, leaping for the dragon’s neck.

Scrabbling at the ridges lining the creature’s spine, the Doctor hoisted himself up, reaching back for Rose as the dragon lifted its head to let out an angry roar. Wings flexing, the dragon coiled its haunches, catlike, a spring tensed and ready to burst, preparing to launch itself into flight. The Doctor lunged for Rose and clutched her about the waist just as the dragon sprang into the air. Rising higher with every beat of its wings, the dragon lurched, sending both Rose and the Doctor slipping. Feet sliding on the dragon’s slick scales, Rose cried out at the stomach-plummeting sensation of takeoff, at the sight of the landscape shrinking below. Sweat beaded and trickled down the Doctor’s neck as he mustered every last ounce of his strength to haul Rose up the rest of the way, fighting gravity for its sorely-wanted prize. He pulled and she heaved and finally she was safe—relatively speaking, anyway, as she straddled the dragon’s neck—but the Doctor didn’t dare let go of her waist.

“Please tell me you’ve got a good reason for this!” Rose shouted over her shoulder.

“I’ve got a good reason for this,” the Doctor replied automatically. Rose craned her neck to shoot him a disbelieving look and the Doctor offered her his very best charming grin. “Now, whatever you do, don’t let go!”

Soaring over the stadium, the dragon violently shook its head to dismount its riders. When that didn’t work, the creature barked out a great roar, one that made the Doctor’s teeth chatter. Muscles rippled and sinews strained beneath the Doctor, heat blossoming and glowing sickly yellow just beneath the slick purple scales, and the Doctor knew the dragon was preparing to let forth another fiery blast.

Smoke flying from its nostrils, the dragon circled back round, surging straight back for the mountain—right to Mickey and the others. The dragon opened its mouth to fire.

The Doctor ran a series of figures in his head at lightning-speed and threw the end of Rose’s wrist-chain out into the wind, his other hand clasping her by the ribs hard enough to bruise. Casting out into the windstream, the chain whipped right back round, looping through the dragon’s open mouth and hurtling right back toward Rose, who caught it with a gasp. Thanking his biology for the gift of long arms, the Doctor shot his hands around Rose to grab the chain by both ends.

“Help me pull it tight!” the Doctor commanded.

Rose obeyed, winding her manacled hand around the chain just before both of them yanked back as hard as they could. The dragon’s head snapped backward, spewing a stream of fire singing the air up above. Screeching, the dragon pulled up, soaring away from Mickey and the others.

“Yes!” Rose shouted, craning her neck to double-check that Mickey was safe. He and Dyana and Vareem were only just visible from this vantage point, tiny colorful specks fleeing up the mountain, but they were moving, they were all right, they were alive.

“Oh my god, I thought we were all done for,” Rose said, her voice shaking.

“Oh, come on, have a little faith,” the Doctor laughed. “It would take more than a dragon to bring us down!”

“Right! So what’s step two, here?”

“No clue,” the Doctor said cheerfully, and he could just hear Rose rolling her eyes.

The dragon lurched forward and without even thinking, the Doctor grabbed Rose round the waist again, steadying them both. A brilliant pink flush crept up the back of her neck and the Doctor wondered at that—her dress was awfully flimsy and thin, surely she couldn’t be overheated, somehow?—but no, he realized, it only happened after his hands slid down her belly, anchoring her close, her back pressed firmly against his chest, sandwiched so tightly together he could feel her heart hammering beneath his fingertips, against his ribs…

He suspected, suddenly, that her reactions had less to do with the imminent danger, and more to do with something else entirely.

The Doctor relaxed his grip. “Maybe we could give any lingering Champions a little scare, clear the way for Mickey and the others, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rose replied, clearing her throat. “Let’s give it a go.”

The Doctor shifted, ready to show Rose how best to steer the dragon, but she was already pulling on one end of her chain, guiding the dragon back around.

“You’re not the only one with surprise talents!” she shot over her shoulder with a cheeky grin.

The Doctor smiled, settling his hands and arms more comfortably around her. “Oh, you always surprise me, Rose Tyler,” he said quietly into her ear.

Rose blushed again.

***

Alien planets, Mickey had decided, were highly overrated.

First, there were the local customs. Certainly, Mickey knew Earth had its fair share of local customs that outsiders might consider silly, or harmful, or downright bad. But as far as he was aware, there were no officially-sanctioned Earth customs that involved drugging or kidnapping, certainly none that encouraged the use of Bronze Age weapons amidst Stone Age gender politics.

Then, you had the sports. Normally Mickey quite liked sports. He was, in fact, something of a sports aficionado; there were very few sports back on Earth that were incapable of holding his interest. But there also weren’t any sports back on Earth that involved running over a theme-park-movie-set, up a mountain, away from a real-live dragon.

Ah, yes. The dragon. That was another thing.

“Holy hell,” Mickey whispered. He shielded his eyes against the floodlights, the better to watch the dragon’s shadowy form as it retreated to the other end of the stadium, swooping low and scattering a cluster of lagging Champions. “Did you see that? Rose and the Doctor—!”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re buying us time,” said Dyana absentmindedly, scanning the mountainside for stray Champions. “We’d better take it!”

Mickey’s feet were loathe to move, strangely reluctant to turn away from the blip in the distance that was the dragon and its riders, but upon feeling a tug, Mickey glanced over to see Vareem pulling on his shirtsleeve, her eyes wide with fear and anxiety.

“Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go. Please!”

After another glance backward—there the dragon went again, diving low over the Champions until they ran back the way they’d come—Mickey nodded, and followed.

The three of them ran up the mountain, alternately sprinting and climbing and pulling themselves up over dirt and rocks and great moss-covered stones. Vareem galloped up ahead, cantering up the ever-steepening hillside as easily as a mountain goat, and Dyana followed closely behind, but Mickey lagged. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the dragon for very long. Something kept urging him to turn round, crawling uncomfortably down his spine; he wasn’t certain if it was sweat, or something else.

Instinctively, the company ducked as the dragon soared overhead, the ground trembling with every stroke of its great wings. With a great roar, the dragon dove low, sending cowardly Champions running in all directions, abandoning their would-be prizes without a second thought.

“So, erm,” Mickey huffed as the bride-prizes cheered and the dragon flew off once more. “What’s at the top of the mountain again?”

“The Citadel, where you’ll claim us as your wives,” replied Vareem.

Mickey’s feet chose that precise moment to wrap around each other. “Oh yeah?” he said, trying to sound casual as he pulled out of the stumble (and failing spectacularly).

“Don’t get too excited,” Dyana said drily. “All you do is hit the button and say the words. You’re setting us free right afterward.”

“Or we could talk about it,” protested Vareem. “I don’t mind sharing!”

Both women laughed at the flush that darkened Mickey’s cheeks and ears at that. Maybe alien planets weren’t so bad after all, he decided.

The earth shuddered beneath him once more, in time to the great slow slap-slap of leathery dragon’s wings—and there it was again, that feeling of something pricking and trickling down the back of his neck. Mickey turned to watch the dragon as he climbed, but his hands and feet slowed to a crawl; squinting against the floodlights, he couldn’t quite make it out, but the dragon’s flight seemed shakier than before, its body sagging and dipping, and was Mickey imagining it, or was it glowing all over?

“Oh for goodness’ sake, come on!” pleaded Vareem. “We haven’t got time—”

“Wait,” said Mickey, watching as the dragon approached. Its flight grew slow and lazy, its body shaking violently. “Something’s wrong.”

The dragon flew overhead and disappeared round the mountainside.

Seconds later—

BOOM.

The impact threw Mickey and the others through the air, each of them slamming into the earth amidst a deluge of rocks and earth. Panting for breath, Mickey cast himself in front of Vareem, shielding her with his body as much as he could as a second wave of debris flew their way. The crack-snap-BOOM of the explosion echoed throughout the stadium and bounced off the walls, ringing in Mickey’s ears. He screwed his eyes shut against the noise and the dirt.

When the quaking and the noise stopped, Mickey looked up to see that the air was filled with smoke and ash, an ominous dark cloud forming on the other side of the mountain.

His heart skipped a few beats and he thought he might choke.

An explosion—and Rose had been on the dragon when it—and there was no way she could have—

“Rose,” Mickey panted, pushing himself off the ground, heedless of the scrapes and cuts that lined his body. He stumbled toward the darkening smoke-plume, gagging on the fire and ash that burned the back of his throat. “Rose! Rose!”

“Hush!” Dyana hissed furiously. “You’re gonna draw attention!”

“I don’t care!” Mickey croaked. Heart racing and lungs pumping until he was lightheaded from it, Mickey stumbled over churned earth and upturned rocks, inching ever-closer to the blast site.

“Rose!—”

“Hey!” Dyana said sharply, darting in front of him. “Hey, look at me!” She grabbed Mickey by the collar, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Look at me.”

Mickey forced his eyes to focus on Dyana’s face, forced his ears to hear something over the ringing and the rush of his blood and the screaming panic.

“Rose told me about that bloke she’s with, that Doctor fellow,” Dyana said slowly. “He’s some sort of miracle worker or something, right?”

Mickey shook his head, uncomprehending. “But, the explosion—”

“Rose said he’s done incredible things, got out of way worse scrapes than this, saved loads of people. And you’ve been there, you’ve seen it. You know what he can do. You trust him, don’t you?”

Shaking violently, Mickey struggled to think. A fleeting vision of Rose flashed in his mind, first strapped to a table while an android prepared to dissect her for scrap bits, then later, her eyelashes fluttering and lower lip quivering as she tried not to cry, stranded on a space station a thousand years away from home. He remembered the fear at being strapped to a table of his own, the sick feeling that settled in his stomach, a twin to the sensation that weighed heavy in his gut now.

He wanted to say yes—but was that true anymore?

Before he had a chance to answer, the sounds of scuffling and murmuring at the base of the mountain let him know that they weren’t alone; both turned to see a fresh new batch of Champions running and climbing their way. And this time, none of them offered Dyana a salute.

“You two, get up the mountain,” Mickey said, taking off once more toward the smoke. “We’ll meet you up there!”

“Mickey—”

“I’m not leaving her!” Mickey shouted over his shoulder.

Dyana did not reply, but Mickey heard her swear under her breath. He glanced back to see her grabbing Vareem by the hand as they set up the mountain once more, the Champions quickly closing the gap between them. In any other situation, Mickey might have felt guilty for abandoning the women, but they were far handier with a weapon than he’d ever been. And there was no way in hell he was going up this damn mountain without Rose.

He prayed that she was all right.

***

“D’you really think Rose is okay?” Vareem asked as they climbed.

Dyana did not reply.

***

A groan tore from Rose’s lungs as she rolled onto her side. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Or, more accurately, like she’d been hurled into a mountainside.

Slowly, gingerly, she sat up, wincing at the dull aches and sharp pains that stabbed her seemingly everywhere. Her lungs stung with the stench of smoke and Rose coughed, wincing at the hurt that blossomed in her ribs after.

Where was she…? And where was the Doctor?

Trembling, Rose tried to stand but her legs shook and ached in protest, pain shooting through her body. Fingers running a path down her arms and torso and legs, she searched herself for damage, and while she certainly discovered a large number of tender cuts and feverish burns and bruises (her lonely bruise from before now had plenty of friends, she thought with a grimace), she was relieved to find nothing too serious, though whatever had gone down, it had taken most of her wrist-chain with it, leaving only a small length dangling limply behind. She suspected she’d got off pretty well considering what had happened, whatever that might be.

Seriously, though—what had happened?

Frowning, Rose struggled through the heavy fog in her mind, pulling together the puzzle-pieces of her memory so she could assemble them into a shape that made sense. They were riding the dragon, she remembered. They managed to steer the dragon and scare away some Champions, but then it started to shake and glow beneath them. And Rose had smelled smoke, and the scales beneath her had grown hot, and she’d heard the Doctor shouting, but after that...well, everything went grey after that. It was easy enough to figure out that she’d been thrown from the dragon, but Rose couldn’t recall anything that would explain why she got thrown from the dragon, or where the Doctor went, or why the dragon had vanished without a trace, or why everything all around her was on fire.

All good questions, Rose thought dimly; good questions for the Doctor, if she could find him. For all his talk of wandering off, she thought with a grump.

First things first, though, she needed to do something about this whole breathing situation. Rifling through her skirt for the cleanest patch of fabric she could find, Rose tore the flimsy material easily, holding it over her mouth as a makeshift handkerchief. Her lungs still stung and throat still burned, but at least it no longer felt like she was swallowing fire every time she inhaled.

She huffed grumpily into the handkerchief. Probably the fires were just another challenge set up by the City Council, as if this whole stupid thing wasn’t already dangerous enough. Honestly, did they want any of their participants to survive?

Rising on wobbly legs, Rose squinted through the smoke and ash, searching for any hint of familiar brown pinstripes.

“Doctor?” she coughed. God, what she wouldn’t do for a cup of water right now; her throat was parched, thick, like a dried-up well. She called out again, stumbling across the uneven earth. She strained to catch a glimpse of him through the grey-hazed air.

Rose hoped he wasn’t hurt, or worse.

(No. She shook her head sharply, winced at the dizziness that flared up after. She didn’t have time to think like that.)

“Over here!” called the Doctor, and Rose sighed in relief. Stumbling, she followed the sound of his voice until his outline appeared in the smoke, followed by the rest of him.

Rose stifled a laugh. Here she was, covered in bruises and soot, and the Doctor had barely a speck of dirt on him. He could have floated through the air as easily as Mary Poppins with her umbrella, for as unrumpled and composed as he was. But of course, Rose thought—how else would it be?

“Now what do you think of this?” asked the Doctor, his tone perfectly conversational, as if they weren’t standing in a smoke-ridden battlefield. He held a small silver rectangle in one hand, regarding it with no small measure of curiosity as he turned it over and over, examining it from all angles. It gleamed a dull silver through the ash and mud, and amidst the bits of grass and debris, Rose could make out a series of numbers stamped into its face.

“Doctor?” Rose coughed. “What happened?”

“Found it half-stuck in the ground, nearly tripped on it,” the Doctor continued, and Rose struggled not to roll her eyes, because why on earth would he think she was asking about that? “Any thoughts on what it could be?”

Rose shrugged, coughing into her handkerchief. The Doctor might have been able to breathe in this nasty air well enough, but she certainly couldn’t, and something about him just standing there so casually, in the smoke, while she was struggling to breathe without gagging, irritated her a little bit. Or maybe that was just the ash drifting lazily into her eyes, or her bruises making themselves loudly known.

(Or really, couldn’t he wait for two seconds before he went tracking down the next stupid shiny thing? Her thoughts had shifted to him almost immediately after she regained consciousness—couldn’t he arse himself to think about her, or worry about her, even just a little bit? Weren’t friends supposed to do things like that?)

“Dunno,” Rose said, bouncing impatiently on her heels. He could stand here looking at weird little pieces of metal all he liked, but she wasn’t interested in waiting around to get caught by more Champions, or the dragon again, or whatever other nasty beasty things might come their way. “Looks like a dog tag or one of those pet chips or something?”

The Doctor’s eyebrow piqued in question. “Pet chip?”

“Yeah, like one of those things people put in their pets in case they run away or get lost. They’ve got numbers on them, like a barcode or something, and you scan ‘em to find out where the pets belong.”

“Curious,” the Doctor murmured thoughtfully, giving the piece another look-over before shoving it into one of his pockets. “Think it would work on humans, get them to stop wandering away or running off in the middle of would-be rescue attempts? Maybe I should get one for you, mmm?”

“Oi, I’m not a dog,” Rose grumped, her nose scrunched in disgust beneath the handkerchief.

“No, no, of course not. A dog knows how to stay,” the Doctor teased.

Any other day, Rose would have glared daggers at him, then laughed at the look of abashed sheepishness that crossed his face afterward. Now, she just sighed, heavily, gathering her singed skirts so she could plow on ahead. Onward, upward, anything was better than looking back. Right?

“Not a dog,” she repeated as she climbed, “nor a cat, nor a bird, nor a pet of any kind. Just another silly human trying to survive. Besides, I only ran off in the first place cos you took your sweet time rescuing me. I wasn’t gonna sit and wait around for another five and a half hours.”

For a moment, all she could hear behind her was the sound of fires crackling. Then, the Doctor’s plimsolls scuffed against the earth as he climbed after her. “Five and a half hours,” he said. “Oddly specific amount of time.”

Rose forged on ahead with a heavy sigh. She hadn’t really meant for those words to spill out; she wasn’t too keen on nagging or fighting, especially right now. But there was just something about being compared to an animal that rubbed her the wrong way.

Because that’s what he really thinks of you, she thought irritably. His sweet little pet, nips at his heels and knows a few tricks and is awfully cute when she tries. Sit, Rose. Speak, Rose! Play dead! Good girl!

Not to mention the number of owners that have no trouble leaving their pets behind when it’s time to move away.

Lost in thought, Rose didn’t notice the crumbling earth until it was too late and she was already slipping. But the Doctor grabbed her hand before she could slide too far, setting her back upright.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” Rose grumbled, pulling her hand away.

“You sure? You seem a little—”

“I said I’ve got it.”

The Doctor frowned. “You didn’t happen to sustain a concussion in the fall, did you?”

“Would it make a difference if I had?” she snapped.

With a great huff, the Doctor stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “All right,” he said impatiently. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or have I got to guess?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Let’s just keep moving.”

“Nope, not until you tell me what’s eating you.”

“Why, are you going to pretend to care now?”

The Doctor blinked in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I care!”

Humming impatiently, Rose rubbed at her temple, pushing against the ache threatening to blossom there. God, but she was thirsty. She was going to get a migraine soon from the dehydration, she could just tell.

“It’s nothing, forget it,” Rose sighed. “Let’s just go, yeah?”

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on, though? One minute you’re fine, next minute, it’s the end of the world—you said I hurt you, chattered a whole bunch of veiled nonsense about abandonment and expiration dates and betrayal, and now you won’t say anything at all. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

“Guess you don’t know everything about everything, then,” Rose shot back, stepping around the Doctor so she could continue her climb.

The Doctor groaned in frustration as he followed after her. “Oh, excellent, more opaque, snippy little barbs. Love those. So wonderfully helpful! Honestly, you’ve been a right pain ever since—”

“France?”

“Yes,” the Doctor said, impatience evident in the tension of his voice. “Since France, whatever that’s got to do with anything.”

Rose laughed nastily. “Right, yeah, whatever could France have to do with anything?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Rose,” the Doctor sighed, and Rose heard his feet scuff to a stop behind her. “Just spit it out already!”

Rose slowed to a halt, worrying her lip. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? Or ever?”

She turned back to look at the Doctor, found him standing with crossed arms and furrowed brow and pinched mouth, as if to say, Get on with it, then.

Well. If he was going to give her an honest-to-goodness opening, then Rose should take it, right? No matter what the sick little feeling in her stomach said. She could do this. She wasn’t the one afraid to have a proper conversation.

(But if she really wasn’t afraid, then why hadn’t she said anything yet?)

She pulled down the handkerchief and twisted it in her hands, grateful for something to distract them with. “You left Mickey and me behind,” Rose said quietly. “On the space station, when you jumped through that mirror.”

“Yes, and?”

Taken aback, Rose laughed uncertainly. “And it was sort of a stupid thing to do? And it hurt our feelings? And it made us scared? And we were worried about you? And we didn’t know if or when you’d get back, or we’d get home again? That enough and’s for you?”

“But it all turned out for the best, didn’t it? Everything’s fine, everyone’s fine, it all worked out in the end. So what’s the problem?”

“You didn’t know any of that when you jumped through, though,” Rose insisted. “For all you knew, you could have been stuck for hundreds or even thousands of years!”

“Nah,” said the Doctor, waving a hand dismissively. “I would have just hitched a ride with an earlier me. I’m bound to show up in France every other decade or so.”

“A decade?” Rose asked, her voice shaking. “Maybe that’s just a blink for you, but that would’ve been a long time for Mickey and me, stranded on that station.”

“Nope! The Emergency Programme would have kicked in long before that, taken you right back home, quick as you like,” the Doctor countered, stepping up the mountainside until they stood almost face-to-face. “Then hey presto, my younger self stops for a visit at merry old Versailles after a few years in my timeline, brings me back straightaway in your timeline. You wouldn’t have even had time to miss me.”

“Want to bet?” Rose muttered sadly.

She looked away. “It’s just...why’d you have to do it that way? You didn’t have to leave me and Mickey behind. We could’ve taken the TARDIS to a nearby town or something, or hopped back to Versailles a few minutes before the time windows opened up, right?”

“Er, technically, yes, I suppose either of those options would have worked,” the Doctor conceded, tugging uncomfortably on one ear. “Still, what’s done is done. The timelines are protected, that’s what matters.”

“And...is that all that matters?” Rose asked. She knew she was treading on thin ice; instead of retreating, she inched out a tentative foot, exploring just a little further. “Is that the only reason you did it, I mean?”

“Well, yes. What else would there be?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Rose steeled herself. She would have to give a little to get a little, she knew; she couldn’t expect to make any progress unless she ventured out onto the ice properly, ignoring the spiderweb-cracks that fanned out beneath her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself as a defense against the chill.

“I wasn’t really thinking of a what,” she said slowly, “so much as a who.”

The Doctor arched an eyebrow in suspicion and Rose braced herself, oh god, here it came, the judgment and disgust, the awkwardness, the rejection; Rose could feel it washing over her like a plunge into Arctic waters.

“Ah,” said the Doctor, quietly. “Ah.”

Rose gulped.

“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor said, his voice soft, contemplative. Then, Rose watched as his face split into a slow and wicked grin. “Rose Tyler,” he said again, and now his words were warm with mischief. “You are jealous!”

“Wait—what?” spluttered Rose, her cheeks flushing hotly beneath his gaze. “No! No, that’s not at all what I—”

“So Mickey was right. Fascinating,” the Doctor marveled, chuckling. “Travel with humans for a millennia, you’d think you’d be used to it all by now, but you lot still surprise me sometimes. But that’s what’s been bothering you this whole time? The jealousy?”

“No,” Rose said stubbornly, rubbing her hands over her gooseflesh-prickled arms. How could she blush so hotly and still feel so damn cold all at the same time?

“And to think, I almost fell for your little charade earlier,” the Doctor laughed. “Rose Tyler, jealous!”

“Was not,” Rose muttered, wrapping her arms around herself more snugly.

The Doctor smiled a knowing smile and shrugged out of his overcoat, stepping forward to drape it around Rose’s shoulders. “Were so,” he teased.

“Was not.”

Stepping nearer, the Doctor drew the coat tightly around Rose, pulling the lapels together across her chest. His hands never touched her, never so much as brushed over the fabric, but they hovered so close Rose could practically feel their heat through the coat. She was suddenly blisteringly aware of his proximity and just how much flesh her thin silk dress exposed. She begged her body not to flush any further, not to give her away.

“Were so,” said the Doctor again, beaming in self-satisfaction, and god, he was so stupid and pretty and smug, Rose couldn’t decide if she should smack him or kiss him. It didn’t help that his coat was lovely and warm and smelled of him, that curious clean smell somewhere between the smoke of a wood stove and freshly fallen snow, and his hands were stalling on the coat-lapels, like he was reluctant to move away, and he was standing close enough that they were certainly breathing the air from each other’s lungs, and—

And god, what was wrong with her?

Years of repressing these ridiculous notions—it had only gotten worse after he came out looking like this, all fantastic hair and flirtatious grin and boyish charm, but those feelings had always been there, always, even if Rose had done her damnedest to stomp them down—and all it took to undo that hard work was two bare minutes’-worth of conversation and meaningful looks? Just how many other silly human girls had thought all the same things, fallen into all of the same traps as her? How many of them had trailed after him just like this, inches away and universes apart, fantasizing about grabbing him by the hair and snogging that stupid grin off his face? How many of them felt these feelings and dreamed these dreams only to be overcome later with disgust and self-loathing, when they remembered that he would never feel anything for them in return, that he was so much older and wiser and grander and so much more alien than any of them could ever be?

But the way he looked at her, with a smile twinkling in the corners of his eyes—but the way he said her name—but the way he always grabbed her hand—

With a shake of her head, Rose squeezed her eyes shut. If she couldn’t see him, then she couldn’t get distracted by his stupid hands and stupid hair and stupid kissable mouth.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said. “You’re trying to deflect. Answering my questions with more questions, and turning everything around on me, and trying to get my attention elsewhere, and—and—and other distract-y things.”

“Mmm, well-put. Is it working?”

Rose opened her eyes to find him watching her still, his gaze hooded and dark, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. And with the way he kept glancing down at her lips—well, if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was planning to kiss her.

“Yes,” she admitted breathlessly, and prepared to drown.

And almost as if she had looked into the heart of the TARDIS all over again, she could sense how this would all play out, could track each and every fateful string weaving in and out in this little tapestry of theirs; she could catalogue the incline of his head, the subtle dilation of his pupils, the flutter of his lashes as he calculated optimum angles and pressure and friction. She could feel how his grip would tighten around the coat lapels, nervous but sure, closing what little space remained between them. His breath would kiss her lips first, his mouth after, pressing gently. Rose’s ribs would seize in a gasp, and her hands would land on his chest, striving for balance as shock shot through her; already she could feel the scratchy wool of his suit beneath her fingers, fibers clinging to the ridges of her fingerprints like they’d never let go. His double pulse would hammer beneath her fingertips, speeding up at her touch, and her own pulse would crash thunderously in her ears. Rose imagined how the Doctor’s hands would drop to her waist as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth against hers, and she thought of the buzz that would fill her head at the sensation, a feeling like fizzing and falling and flying worse than anything she’d experienced in the air just moments before. He would pull her snug against him and she would bury her fingers in that glorious hair of his, because yes, she had been looking, of course she had, who was she kidding, anyway? And when she would pull back for a lungful of air, because not everyone is blessed with a respiratory bypass, she would only have half a moment before the Doctor chased after her, and the kiss would transform into an urgent thing, the Doctor coaxing her tongue into his mouth because even if he’d never admit, it drove him just a little bit mad every time she trapped her tongue between her teeth in that cheeky little grin of hers, and it was his turn this time. He would kiss her and taste her and cling to her as if she might vanish at any moment, and that would be it. She’d be gone. She’d be lost. There would be no coming back, not for her, not ever.

(And then, because this really was just a distraction—because even if he was looking at her like that, it wasn’t Rose he was thinking of—then it would all be over, and even though it would burn and ache in Rose’s chest every time she thought about it, the Doctor would pretend it had never happened. They would never talk about it again.)

The Doctor leaned in and, cursing herself with every hurtful invective she could summon, Rose turned her head.

She stepped back.

A moment passed in horrible silence. Finally, eyes wide with surprise, the Doctor backed off. His lips parted as if he might speak, probably to ask any number of questions, but whatever words might have come out, he must have swallowed them. Pocketing her makeshift handkerchief, Rose unwound the Doctor’s fingers from the coat lapels hanging about her neck, pulling his hands away from her body.

She couldn’t meet his gaze anymore.

“Just, erm,” Rose started to say, and stopped. She was trembling again, though she certainly wasn’t cold any longer. She closed her eyes; maybe that would make things easier.

“Look,” she sighed. “Doctor, I—”

“Oh my god, Rose!” a familiar voice rang out, and Rose turned to see Mickey sprinting toward her round the mountainside, coughing and fanning smoke out of his eyes. “Rose, you’re alive!”

Rose risked a glance at the Doctor, only to find him staring at her in confusion.

Oh, god. Why did Mickey have to find them right now?

“God, I thought you were dead,” Mickey laughed, pulling Rose into a hard hug. “What the hell happened? And where’d the dragon go? And how the heck did you manage to survive that explosion?”

“Explosion?” Rose asked, startled. “Wait—is that why everything’s on fire?”

“Well, yeah—don’t you remember—?”

“Ah, yes, the dragon might’ve exploded a bit,” interrupted the Doctor, “but we were thrown off long before that happened. Now that’s what I call luck!”

“The dragon exploded?” Rose asked in alarm, but the Doctor just brushed past her, overlapping her words with, “So the others have gone ahead, then? Brilliant! Shall we play a bit of catch-up?”

“That’s the plan,” Mickey replied, but his eyes kept darting to Rose’s face, as if he was trying to puzzle something out. (That made two of them, didn’t it?)

“Excellent, good plan, very astute.” The Doctor grabbed Rose by the hand and took off at a sprint, pulling her along. “Let’s go claim some wives, shall we!”

“Don’t forget, we’ve got more Champions to look out for as well!”

“That’s what makes it fun!” the Doctor shouted back at Mickey. “Now come along, Mr. Smith—we’ve got a Championship to win!”

***

“Where are they?” Vareem asked, chewing nervously on her lip as her hooves tapped an impatient tattoo on the citadel floor. Not that Dyana could hear it; the speakers had switched back on sometime in the last few minutes and now the chatter and cheers of the audience could be heard again, their voices bouncing around the walls of the citadel and the stadium and Dyana’s skull. Between that and the stream of Champions cycling through, screaming their victory through the speakers each time one of them slammed the great red button and claimed their prize, Dyana was about to claw her eardrums out.

“Shouldn’t Mickey be here by now?” Vareem continued. “Should we be worried?”

“Yeah, we should,” Dyana replied, peering down the mountainside. Several specks moved up the mountain, running their way, but they were still too far off for her to make out whether they were friend or foe.

Vareem dragged her hands through her hair. “What about one of your people, can they claim us?”

“If they haven’t all already come and gone, yeah, sure. But I think they all probably got out in the first wave.”

Rolling her eyes, Vareem groaned. “This was a really rubbish plan, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, next time someone tries to enslave us, you can come up with the plan. Okay?”

Vareem mumbled something under her breath, but beneath the overwhelming susurrus of the murmuring crowd, Dyana didn’t catch it; besides, she was too busy watching the approaching specks, now close enough that they were starting to take form. Those closest to her, she could identify as Rose and her friends—so Rose and her Doctor had survived after all, what a pleasant surprise for once—but the others closing in—

“Rose, behind you!” Dyana shouted, snatching the boomerang out of Vareem’s hands before she ran down the mountainside. She drew her arm back, ready to throw her weapon at the nearest Champion, but they had closed the gap and now this one was too close to the Doctor, that one was too close to Mickey, and more were coming, all of them focused on the two men.

“Take her!” said the Doctor, shoving Rose into Dyana’s arms before several Champions seized him by the arms and legs. The audience cheered all around them, clapping and howling as the Champions pinned the Doctor’s arms behind his back. “Get up to the citadel!” he shouted.

“What about you two?” Rose shot back.

“We’ll be fine—just go!”

Dyana yanked Rose away just before the Champions wrestled the Doctor to the ground, forcing Mickey down as well. One Champion withdrew a sword from its sheath and the audience roared.

“They’re gonna kill them!” Rose cried, pulling back, but Dyana just gritted her teeth and dragged her along.

“Oh, no you don’t!” she shouted, heaving Rose up the mountain with every ounce of her considerable strength. “I will be damned before I let this Championship claim another friend!”

“We’ve got company,” said Vareem the moment they hit the citadel; darting over to the other side of the floor, Dyana looked down the mountain to see yet more Champions rushing up toward them. Soon, they would be surrounded—

Soon they would all be claimed.

Next to her, Rose balled her hands into fists, watching frantically as Champions approached from all sides. “Do we fight?” she asked. “What do we do?”

She looked to Dyana for guidance, but Dyana’s thoughts were empty, her brain totally at a loss amidst the never-ending noise from the audience and their doom slowly encroaching upon them.

“I—I don’t know,” she said numbly, her voice barely audible over the audience. She’d half-expected to die in this Championship; she certainly had not planned to get this far, only to be captured now. “There’s no one else to claim us now, I don’t know, I don’t—”

“Wait, wait,” Vareem breathed, her face lighting up. “Oh, ladies. We’re all idiots.”

Before anyone could ask her what she meant, just as the audience began screaming for blood and glory while the first of the Champions crossed the citadel threshold with their weapons drawn, Vareem flew to the center of the room and hit the red button with a great big smack.

“We claim ourselves!” she shouted, and the speakers boomed her voice echoed throughout the arena, bouncing it over and over between the stadium walls. “We are our own Champions! We claim ourselves!”

The Champions stilled and the audience fell quiet around them. Silence descended with a thickness you could feel, a heaviness you could taste.

Dyana’s throat seized up, her breath trapped inside.

Did Vareem just—did she really—

“Oh my god,” Rose muttered, eyes wide in shock. “Did that actually work?”

Vareem gulped loudly. “Guess we’ll find out.”

***

Previous | Next

#ficandchips #tenrose #tenxrose #ten x rose #gitf fixit #rose x ten #otp of legend #mickey smith #angst #bickering #flirting #difficult conversations #and adventure!#and more angst and bickering and flirting lol #mbb fic #LOOK I FINALLY FINISHED A GODDAMN CHAPTER #GO MEEEEEEE #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

52 notes · View notes