The Unseen and In Between Series

Long Journey Home (9/?)

Sat, 30 May 2009 03:31:13 GMT

The Doctor shut the TARDIS doors after Donna gave her grandfather one final wave. She sighed, which seemed to be a happy sound, and followed him back up the ramp to the console. He dematerialized and sent the TARDIS into the Vortex until he had his newest travel mate settled.

“Thank you for that, Doctor.”

“Oh, sure,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Good ole Wilf deserves a thrill.” He picked up two of her bags and headed for the door leading into the rest of the TARDIS. “Ready for the grand tour? Checking in, ma’am?”

Donna smiled and tipped her head. “Show me to my room, please.”

The Doctor smiled, and it felt good. Genuine, like he wasn’t trying to put on airs for anyone. Donna Noble was going to be a handful, that much he already knew. But, she had seen him at his very worst and somehow that made it okay. She’d pulled him back from the brink.

He turned his back to the door and pushed, thankful it opened easily. Apparently the TARDIS liked Donna because she’d given no argument. The wall sconces were already lit, casting a warm glow off the polished wood walls of the main hall, and the scent of applewood burning in the library fireplace filled the cavernous space.

“Oh. My. God,” Donna whispered. “Doctor, this is beautiful. I never imagined… I mean, I knew there was more, but I guess I thought it would be—“

“This is home,” he offered. “Anyway, kitchen is there, end of the hall and down the stairs is the library. Feel free. I believe your room will be at the end of the hall…” He started down the Turkish carpet, but paused when he realized Donna wasn’t following.

She stood near the wall, resting her fingers on the rich wood that ran from the floor into the vaulted enclaves that made the high ceiling. It was warmer in here, the way Rose had always liked it. The TARDIS never changed the climate here, and he knew it was because she waited for Rose to come back… even though it was impossible. Donna ran her hand up the wood, the smile on her lips barely there because of the awe that had taken over.

She likes me.

The Doctor smiled. “Yeah.”

Donna took a sideways step and peered into the kitchen. “Blimey, Doctor. You could feed the entire Royal Navy in here.”

He set her bags down and went back to the wide archway that opened into the kitchen. Brick walls with wooden pillars made it feel rustic and old, but nothing could be further from the truth. The cupboards were always stocked and the dishes were always clean. The air smelled of toast and coffee and chocolate chip pancakes and Bordovian Boiled Syrup, which Rose had declared to be ten times better than maple syrup.

Donna walked to the four-person table that sat to the side, her fingertips skimming over the aged surface.

“I don’t understand how this works, and I don’t think I want to understand…” She trailed off, looking at him. “Is that alright? I don’t seem thick because I don’t want to know, do I?”

The Doctor smiled. “Not at all.”

“Doctor… your ship is amazin’.”

“And you’ve only just seen the kitchen.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder and guided her back to the hall. The bags he’d set down were gone, and he assumed the ones in the control room had also been dealt with. The lift door on the other side of the hall was open, and he smiled, knowing the TARDIS was just showing off a bit.

“Not sure how much you’ll need to wander about the TARDIS, and I wouldn’t recommend it if I’m not with you, but the lift there will take you just about anywhere. But, she tries to keep everything close by for us.”

“She?”

“The TARDIS, Donna.” Here was one of the greatest obstacles the Doctor had tried to overcome with Martha, and one he never quite succeeded with. Of course, Rose knew intimately the truth of his ship. “The TARDIS is a living ship.”

“Oh, that’s bloody brilliant,” Donna declared with the same robust enthusiasm the Doctor had liked in her from the start. Then she scowled, not in anger but more in thought. “Does she, you know, hear my thoughts and stuff?”

“She does get inside your head, yes. You’ll see more as we go. But, don’t worry, Donna. Big Brother isn’t watching.”

“Oh, I love that show!”

The Doctor smiled and shook his head, turning to face the other side of the hallway. “Bedrooms are here, yours is there at the end.”

He walked purposefully past his own bedroom door and past the closed room that had been Rose’s bedroom to the third door. This room had housed Jack Harkness, Mickey Smith, Martha Jones… and with each guest, it had been slightly different. The Doctor grinned, wondering what he would find when he opened the door.

The room was beautiful. For Martha, the room had been sizeable, but compact in comparison to the other bedrooms, with dark walls and brown bedding. It was ‘nice’… but this was nice. White carved wood furniture decorated the massive space, and the walls were a soft yellow with silk draperies hanging from ceiling to floor. The floor itself was a pale, wide plank wood with Turkish carpets scattered to cover it. Donna’s hat box sat on the corner of a massive bed covered with an elegant cream colored duvet with a mound of pillows against the headboard. The Doctor saw the entrance to the attached bathroom, and from the glimpse of pale pink marble tile and glass, he figured the TARDIS had held back nothing for Ms. Donna Noble.

“Oh, god…” Donna whispered as she stepped inside, brushing past him to stand at the foot of the bed. “This is beautiful.”

“That it is, Donna. That it is. The old girl outdid herself for you.”

Not old!

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Not old. Not as TARDIS’ go.”

Donna turned and looked at him, and the Doctor swirled his finger in the air. “I insulted her.”

“You talk to her, then…”

“Sure.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Well, you can, but I doubt she’ll talk back. You have to have a connection with her, and only one person other than me has had that.”

Donna’s expression softened a little, the corner of her mouth turning up in a small, gentle smile. “Rose.”

He nodded, but continued. “So, you can tell her whatever you want or need. And she’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you,” she said, then looked up at the high ceiling. “Thank you.”

The TARDIS didn’t respond, not with any words, but the surge of pleasant happiness that spread around him told him all he needed to know. “She says you’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I found you again. And I can’t believe I’m in a bloody living ship that travels through time and space!”

“Believe it, Donna.”

He left her alone to settle in, and stopped in the kitchen for some biscuits and marmalade. As he stood at the counter, spreading the jam, he smiled when he thought of the many times he and Rose had come to the kitchen for snacks in the middle of the night. She almost always pulled on whatever shirt he’d discarded, and padded down the hall barefoot. Sometimes she’d jump up on the counter to sit cross-legged, stealing his biscuits when he looked the other way.

Of course, he always let her steal the biscuit. Because the game was in the outrage and the denial… and the kissing and touching that usually followed. Once, they’d even gotten creative with the marmalade…

“Doctor?”

He jumped, dropping his biscuit and it landed marmalade side down on the counter. “Donna—“ he huffed.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you didn’t hear me.”

He offered her a biscuit, a new one, and licked his fingers after scooping up the flipped one. “Did you need something?”

“Not really. I’m just… absorbing.”

He smiled. “Careful of that. I saw someone literally be absorbed once. Absorbaltrix… no, wait…” The Doctor tipped his head, squinting his eyes. “No, sorry. Absorbaloff. From the planet Clom. Sister planet to Raxacorricofallapatorious.”

“Do you always go on like that?”

“Afraid I do, yeah. Rose once told me I had the gift of gab.”

“Gift of somethin’, yeah.” She smiled, tilting her head as she looked at him. “You were smilin’ when I came in. What were you thinkin’ about? Rose?”

He nodded, studiously wiping down the counter. Once upon a time, he’d left it knowing the TARDIS would clean it up, but Rose had lectured him one too many times about taking the TARDIS for granted and he could very well wipe up his own marmalade.

“I’m sorry she’s still lost.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Me, too.”

“If you want…” Donna paused, and took a seat at the table. “You can tell me about her.”

The Doctor leaned back into the corner of the counter where it turned toward the double ovens. He set his hands on the counter edge on either side of him and let his shoulders relax. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Donna. Once I start, I might not be able to stop.”

“That’s okay.”

He drew in a slow breath, the smells of the kitchen filling his head and even they reminded him of her.

“Donna, I’ve been traveling for centuries. Literally, hundreds of years.” He paused, wondering if she’d made a crack, but she didn’t and he figured Donna would take just about anything he told her.

She’d accepted time travel, space travel and relative dimensions with barely a blink… it wasn’t that big of a jump to accept he was nearly ancient in comparison to anything she understood.

“And in all that time, and for all the people I’ve had travel with me, Rose Tyler is the only one…” His voice caught, but he forced the words to come, because they needed to be spoken. “Rose is the only one I loved. With all my soul and both my hearts.“ That earned a cock of a single eyebrow. “I don’t know what else to say.”

Donna smiled. “That’s a start.”

Long Journey Home (8/?)

Thu, 28 May 2009 19:39:28 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. This story takes place on Pete's World immediately after Last of the Time Lords in the Doctor's Universe.

Genre: Reunion/Fix-it Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

Pete’s World
Twelve Months, One Week and Six Days
Since Canary Warf

The Vortex swirled in intertwined rays of panoramic light, wrapping around her and through her. Her cells tingled and expanded, her blood pounded through her veins, her mind opened.

She let herself fall back in the warmth and the beautiful glow, floating in the effervescent plasma like a child in a pool, eyes closed and the sounds of the world muffled by the water covering her ears. Voices whispered, overlapped, muffled each other but stood out clearly. One voice, two sounds, one man…

… That’s a great deal of trust to put in one man, Rose…

… Rose would know. Right now she’d say exactly the right thing…

… I’ve got a hundred an’ forty-seven different kinds of water from planets all over the galaxy. Oh, you’ve never tasted anything until you’ve had Jenivian glacial water with just a dash from the southern waterfalls of Oraphascia Alpha.”

… Setting 15B. Hold it against the port. Eight seconds then stop…

… All right, so it’s my turn! Then kill me! Kill me if it’ll stop you attacking these people! Do it! Do it! Just do it! Do it! ...

… We could go to Marbella in 1989…

… I’m trying to fix the mercury steam filter, Rose. If this gets clogged… Boom! Not good. You don’t want a TARDIS with a bad case of vapors…

… Everything she did was so human. She brought you back to life but she couldn’t control it. She brought you back forever. That’s something, I suppose. The final act of the Time War was life. I took the power out of her. She’s gone, Jack. She’s not just living in a parallel world, she’s trapped there. The walls have closed…

… Those coordinates there. Set them all to six. And hurry up!…

… Rose Tyler, you are magic…

… Like that, did you? New dance. Very popular in 1970’s Philadelphia. Called the Bumble. Early precursor to the Hustle …

… Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me. Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time? It’s your choice. What’s it gonna be?...

… Except that implies — In this grand scheme of gods and demons — that she’s just a victim. But I’ve seen a lot of this universe. I’ve seen fake gods and bad gods and demi gods and would-be gods — out of all that — out of that whole pantheon — If I believe in one thing… I believe in her…

… Beautiful Rose…

… Clever Rose…

… Precious Rose …

… Forever Rose …

“Rose!”

Rose shot from her sleep with a gasp, scrambling in the darkness to find her bearings. Light spread across the floor of her office in an abstract rectangle, and she blinked as she tried to focus on the person standing it the doorway. Her stomach did a funny flip as she sat up, but she took a deep breath and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead.

“Yeah. What?”

“You’re gonna wanna see this.”

“Jack?” she mumbled, tossing back the jacket she’d used to cover her upper body as she tried to catch a couple hours sleep. They’d been working around the clock on the Dimension Cannon since it hummed to a semi-life three days earlier.

Captain Jack Harkness came across the room and offered his hand, pulling her to her feet. Her limbs were heavy, like she’d been swimming too long and her muscles didn’t know how to work in full gravity. Jack gripped her upper arm, steadying her until she found her footing and forced her mind to shake off the dregs of sleep. The hairs on her arms stood up with gooseflesh, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she still heard whispered voices that she couldn’t quite catch. Jack smoothed one of his large hands over her hair with a gentle touch.

Sometimes she forgot that he wasn’t the Jack she’d known… he was so similar.

“Sorry I woke you up, beautiful. But I knew—“

“Thank you,” she mumbled and tugged at the hem of her oversized jumper, making sure it fell over her hips. “Tell me.”

They left the office walking side-by-side, his hand cupping her elbow, and she squinted against the brightness of the Torchwood halls.

“At exactly 8:02 it was like someone turned on a switch. The whole thing powered up, humming so loud the walls are vibrating.”

Rose looked at her watch. Seven minutes past eight. At least they hadn’t wasted any time coming to get her. Or, Jack didn’t waste any time. She had no idea what Dr. Brandyn said or did. He was still miffed that an ‘uneducated’ nothing who he figured only got her job because of her famous ‘dad’ — and who might just be nutters since she believed she’d traveled through time and space in a parallel universe — had proven his brainiac, university educated scientists wrong weeks ago with their preliminary calculations. They’d all thanked her for her help, but he just scowled.

The ride down in the lift to the lower levels of Torchwood — commonly known as Research and Development, but called ‘The Dungeon’ by those who worked in it — felt like an eternity. When Rose first came here, she’d refused to wear a watch, a real watch, because she hated being trapped by the non-stop tick-tick of a second hand rotating around a circle. It was linear and boring and predictable, and she hated it. Now, every tick taunted her.

Hurry! Hurry! Time is running out!

“We’re getting some readings, but no one down there can make heads or tails of what it all means. Not surprising since not one of those boneheads even knows what they’re looking at,” Jack rambled on.

“What were they doing before it powered up?”

“Not a damn thing, that’s the most bizarre part about it. It’s eight in the morning, everyone was just rolling in. Half the staff isn’t even here yet. Joe the Janitor hadn’t finished mopping.”

When the lift doors opened, Rose had to catch her breath. Suddenly, every nerve in her skin tingled like every tiny hair had come to life and sparked with electricity. She quickly looked to Captain Jack, and he slid her a sidelong glance with a grin, his deep dimples showing. He strode out of the lift, calling out as he walked.

“I’ve got Rose.”

Dr. Brandyn looked up from one of the computer stations that formed a half-circle around the massive device they’d dubbed the Dimension Cannon. It didn’t look like a cannon, but the way it propelled its ‘passenger’ carried much the same force as being shot from a cannon. Well, she supposed if you titled your head and kind of looked at it sideways, it could pass as a cannon. It was a massive circular feat of science with the inner ‘tube’ large enough for a tall man to stand in and Rose couldn’t quite touch the walls on either side of her when she stood inside.

They could only assume the ‘effect’ on the body when the cannon was actually used, since until then no one had been able to make all the lights come on — let alone get it to work.

Jack’s description had been accurate. The cannon emanated a low, constant hum that vibrated through the floor. The interior of the cannon glowed a bright blue with random yellow and orange lights flashing through the clear walls. Rose kept tilting her head, trying to clear away the sound. It was like having water in her ears that she couldn’t shake. Things were muffled.

The baby moved suddenly, feeling so much like a sharp jerk that it nearly made her double over and she barely covered her gasp. It didn’t hurt, but she’d never felt the baby move with such force. Usually, she felt no more than a flutter, a whisper.

“What have we got?” she asked, hiding her kneejerk reaction by sliding into one of the empty computer stations.

Suddenly, the heavy jumper she wore was smothering and she wondered if her cheeks were flushed as bright as they felt. The hair on her arms prickled again to life, and something stirred in her chest akin to panic. She blinked and reached toward the keyboard with trembling hands. With a few brusque taps of her fingers, she was logged in and the same data scrolling on Brandyn’s screen filled hers.

Rose leaned closer, scanning the image. A familiarity slipped over her, comforting even though she couldn’t quite place it. Like she’d seen this before, just a glimpse. So beautiful…

“It’s nothing. Means nothing. Just light and color,” Dr. Brandyn mumbled.

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped, touching the screen. “Can’t you see it? Here? The ribbon? It’s twisted, knotted. Frayed.”

Dr. Brandyn came to her station, looking over her shoulder. “No, Ms. Tyler. I don’t see anything but a bunch of colors and light.”

Jack leaned over on the other side of her, squinting at the image as he laid his hand on her shoulder. “I think I do. Here,” he said, touching the screen as he traced the line of the ribbon that Rose saw. “It knots here. And it’s broken here… looks like it’s split up the middle. But this part, it loops back on itself before getting all knotted.”

Rose nodded and looked back at Jack, smiling. She knew enough about this Jack Harkness to know that some things paralleled with the man she knew. Both were ‘Time Agents’, both had bounced around the universe a time or two… and both enjoyed ‘dancing’. She smirked and turned back to the screen.

“I’m going to try something.”

Rose had no idea what she wanted to do, but something soft and demanding whispered to her. She laid her fingers on the keyboard, took a deep breath, then began typing. Instinct drove every keystroke until her hands flew so fast the computer couldn’t keep up. When Rose stopped, the computer screen continued trying to display what she’d keyed for at least another thirty seconds.

When it caught up, the computer beeped, and the screen blinked — going black. All the screens went black.

“Lovely, Ms. Tyler. You’ve—“

Before Dr. Brandyn could finish, the computers popped to life again. The colorscape was gone, replaced by several windows that came up so fast they overlapped each other. It reminded Rose of when she used to play solitaire on Shireen’s computer. On the rare occasions that she won, the deck of cards would bounce and flow all over the screen until it was depleted.

In this case, instead of cards it was news reports, magazine pages, websites and blogs.

“Save all this. Can we save it?” she asked of no one in particular.

“I’m on it,” someone shouted from several stations down.

“Do you see the dates?” Jack asked, still watching over her shoulder.

Rose nodded. “Yeah.”

The same date would appear on half a dozen news flashes. But, all the stories would be very different. One date alone reported the draining of the Thames, while another reported sightings all over London of bizarre little flubbery creatures escaping through doggie doors. Another reported the deaths of hundreds. On the same date, hundreds were reported as falling ill, but recovered only to find that they’d somehow dropped a good stone’s worth of weight.

Newspapers reported the sighting of what appeared to be an aircraft over London that looked like the Titanic. The ship was reported to have flown low over the city, only to pull up short and disappear from the Earth’s atmosphere. Yet, another report from the United States said the exact same aircraft crashed into Buckingham Palace. Hundreds were killed, but the death toll would have been worse if the city hadn’t been nearly empty. And another paper reported the horrendous deaths of thousands of Londoners when the same described ship crashed into the center of the city.

All the same dates… all slightly different versions of the same event.

They’d connected to a parallel world… but a parallel world with multiple timelines.

“Is that even possible?” Rose mumbled to herself.

“It’s going to take weeks to muddle through all this,” Dr. Brandyn mumbled.

“Then I suggest we get started,” Jack said, straightening as he set his hand on Rose’s shoulder again.

The images continued to stack so quickly that she couldn’t see most of them or register what they were about, until the photo on one news article caught her attention.

“Oh, god,” she choked out, grabbing the mouse beside the keyboard to click back through the windows that had already worked to cover it.

She finally found it again, and pulled the window forward. The words across the top of the page swam in her vision, and she felt lightheaded, a steel fist closing around her heart.

BLUE POLICE CALL BOX FOUND AT THE BOTTOM OF DRAINED THAMES.

“Oh, god,” she whispered again.

Rose didn’t realize she’d tilted in the chair until Jack’s arms came around her, steadying her. He crouched beside her chair, using his body to keep her from tumbling to the floor. Rose turned her head slowly, blinking like she was in some drug-induced haze. She couldn’t focus and the words coming from Jack’s mouth didn’t quite line up with the movement of his lips.

“Are you okay?”

She tried to answer, but couldn’t make her mouth work. Jack stood, leveraging her to her feet so she stood with him. He said something to the techs to work on saving the files, and that he and she would be working in his office. The sheer force of his movements gave her momentum to move with him, putting one foot in front of the other.

Jack’s office was in the Dungeon, just down the hall from the cannon, and he ushered her inside, closing the door behind him with an audible click of the lock. Rose sank heavily onto the leather couch that sat against one wall. She shook all over, and cold sweat battled with the smothering effect of her jumper.

Jack crouched in front of her, his hands on her legs, studying her. “You gonna be okay?”

Rose nodded, finally feeling like some of equilibrium was returning. “Yeah, it’s just… could you feel it?”

Jack nodded. “Not as strong as you do, I think. You looked like you were going to keel over in there, beautiful.”

“I’ll be fine.” She took a deep breath, sinking back into the couch. “Thanks for getting me. Dr. Brandyn doesn’t exactly like me being involved.”

“I get that, but what I don’t get is why.”

“I showed ‘im up. Guess actually travelin’ in a time machine gives me a little edge over his scientists. It’s been a fight since I got here, and especially since you brought back that cannon. He’s convinced the only reason I want to help is so I can go back.”

“Isn’t it?”

Rose met his eyes. “Yeah.” She smiled and nodded. “But he doesn’t need to know that.”

Jack laughed and shifted to sit on the couch beside her. “Then I guess it’s all worth fighting for.”

Rose barely managed to hold back the small hiccup that hit her.

“Rose, you are worth fighting for.”

Jack laid his hand on her shoulder. “Is it something I said?”

She swallowed, reminding herself once again that this Jack Harkness wasn’t the same Jack Harkness who died on Satellite Five. “Sort of.”

“Rose, I’ve been meaning to ask you something… about that other world. I mean, I know that you probably met thousands of people and aliens and whatnot, but—“

She nodded before he finished. “Yeah, I knew you. The you of the other universe. The other…” Rose cleared her throat. “Back home.”

“Just the way you look at me sometimes, I wonder. I mean…” He grinned, the classic cocky grin of Captain Jack Harkness from any universe. “I’m used to beautiful women looking at me—“

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed.

“So did we—“

“No!” she cut him off. Then added with a grin. “Not that you didn’t want to.”

“Well, of course. Who wouldn’t? You’re beautiful, Rose Tyler.”

Rose let herself enjoy the warm flush that blossomed up her throat to her cheeks. It had been a long time since anyone had told her she was beautiful, and the last man had been the Doctor, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy hearing it from someone else. “Thank you.”

“How did we know each other? Torchwood there?”

She shook her head. “No, actually… um… you travelled with the Doctor and me for awhile. Not very long, but… yeah, you were with us in the TARDIS. We met in London during World War II.”

Jack grinned, shifting deeper into the couch cushions. “Aaahhh, the good old days. I’ve never seen anything like London then, not before and not since. I came here from there. Guess things happened a bit different there, then.”

“Yeah, a bit…”

“Why did I stop travelling with you?”

Rose blinked against the tears that immediately sprang to her eyes. “You don’t want to know that, Jack. Not that it’ll ever happen that way here, but—“

“Did I die a hero?”

When he asked the question, he looked straight at her, and all joking had left his eyes. Rose stared back and pressed her lips together, nodding before she answered. “Yeah. You did.”

He grinned, the cockiness back in a flash. “Well, there’s that.”

Rose pulled her knees to her chest, resting her feet on the edge of the couch. Even though her mind knew that the man beside her wasn’t the man she remembered, she still felt some comfort in his presence. She knew she should be out in the control room, trying to decipher the information that had been pulled from the cannon, but she was so tired she couldn’t force her body to move. Whether it was the baby, or the lack of sleep, or a combination of both she didn’t know.

“Can I ask you one other thing? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to. I figure you’ve kept it to yourself this long…”

“What?”

“I don’t pretend to understand how this would work, but I’d bet dollars to donuts that you’re pregnant.” Before she could protest, he raised a hand to stop her. “I’ve spent a lot of time around women, Rose. Women of all ages, and even a few aliens here and there. I know a pregnant woman when I see one… but the thing is, I’ve been seeing one for a very long time.”

He waited until he was done before he looked at her, and by then the tears already rolled down her cheeks. Rose swallowed, but she couldn’t speak yet. So, she just nodded and pulled her knees closer to her chest. After a few moments, she managed to suck in another breath.

“Please don’t tell anyone, Jack,” she whispered.

“I won’t. I promise.” He reached out and took her hand, prying it from the death grip she had around her knees. Jack just held it on the cushion between them. “This Doctor of yours seems like an amazing man, and I’m going to do everything in my power to help you get home to him. I promise you, Rose.”

“Thank you.”

She sighed and leaned sideways to rest her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand. It didn’t matter what universe she was in, Jack Harkness was a hero.

Author's Note: In case you want to know where all the quotes came from, here's a list...

1. "I Believe in You" - part of the Unseen and In Between Series.
2. The Shakespeare Code - Season 3
3. "The Fruit of Kasterbarous" - Part of the Unseen and In Between Series.
4. Army of Ghosts - Season 2
5. Evolution of the Daleks - Season 3
6. Parting of the Ways - Season 1
7. "Everything Rose wanted to know about a Time Lord, and apparently wasn't afraid to ask - Lesson #4"- Part of the Unseen and In Between Series
8. Utopia - Season 3
9. Doomsday - Season 2
10. "TARDIS Lullabye" - Part of the Unseen and In Between Series
11. "Two Steps Forward, One Back" - Part of the Unseen and In Between Series
12. End of the World - Season 1
13. The Satan Pit - Season 2
14-17. Various points through the Unseen and In Between Series, beginning with "Two Steps Forward, One Back".

Long Journey Home (7/?)

Wed, 27 May 2009 02:24:00 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. This falls during The Year That Never Happened - between The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords

Genre: Reunion/Fix-it Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

Author's Note: This is one of those scenes that took on an angle I didn't see coming, but it all made sense. I'm curious about reactions to this one.

During the Year that Never Was
While the Doctor still lived it…

In the small hours of the morning, when the Valiant finally fell silent and only the hum of the engines echoed in the observatory, the Doctor would crawl from his hovel and make his slow way to the window. It broke his hearts to look down on the death and destruction that coated the Earth like an oily, black film. Blackness swirled in the atmosphere, a testament to the burning cities beneath. Cities that had been on fire for weeks. Hundreds of thousands had died at the hand of a mad man.

But, it was looking down on Earth that drove him. Time would pass — painfully slowly — but the day would come when it would end. He knew it as well as he knew his own name.

The Doctor laid his hand on the cold tempered glass, pressing his palm to the smooth surface. His body hurt, every part of it. Having nearly a century of age and time thrust upon him in one flash had been almost enough to cripple him. But, he wouldn’t allow it. To crawl on his hands and knees would be to give in to the madness that had taken over the Master’s mind.

Since his first years at the Academy, the Doctor had seen the madness swirling behind his friend’s eyes. Only then he didn’t see it as madness. Genius perhaps, but not madness. A passion for something no one else could understand.

Friends.

The memories of his Academy life were sometimes a blur, the days of study and tests and discipline all melding one into the next. The only clear and sharp memories he had were of his free hours spent in the company of his mates, the ones who looked past his muddy heritage and the scandal that surrounded his family name to befriend him. They were few, but they were strong.

And among them had been the Master.

Of course, he had a name then, just as the Doctor had. But neither name had been spoken in well over eight hundred and fifty years.

A hydraulic door hissed behind him, and the Doctor shuffled on his feet to turn. The Master paused as he stepped into the pale ambient light, his hands pushed into the pockets of his burgundy silk robe. He smiled, and the sight of it sent a chill down the Doctor’s spine.

“It seems we still think the same, my old friend,” he said as he crossed the room and sank into one of the many leather chairs surrounding the table. “I’ve come in hopes of some intelligent conversation.”

“The time for talking is past.” It was hard to speak, but he forced the words out his dry, rough throat.

“Oh, humor me.”

With pain scraping in every ancient joint, the Doctor shuffled back to the table and sank heavily into the chair facing the Master. He sighed as the pain in his knees subsided now that he didn’t have to bear his own, fragile weight.

“So, tell me everything. Last time we saw each other, we didn’t exactly have time to catch up, what with me attempting to harvest your regenerations and all,” the Master said with a smirk, his fingertips already tapping out the damn rhythm da-da-da-dum, da-da-da-dum. “How is Mara? The kids? Oh, that’s right… sentimental fool that you are, you married below your status and had to watch your beloved wife die. It’s a shame, really. I always did like Mara.”

“You’re failing if this is a new attempt at torturing me, Master,” the Doctor said with a heavy sigh. “The mention of my family is a sweet memory, not a painful one.”

“Really,” the Master said, dragging the word out as he leaned forward to purposefully close the distance between them and stare into the Doctor’s eyes. “I guess nine centuries have faded them to a dull afterthought.”

“Not at all,” was the only answer he provided.

With a squeak of the chair, the Master flung himself backwards. He stared at the Doctor for a long time in silence, except for the thumping of his fingers on the table. The Doctor just stared back, waiting for him to say or do whatever it was he had come here in the middle of the night to accomplish. The Master did nothing without knowing the consequences would be exactly what he wanted. The Master of his own Destiny.

“I suppose I should take some small comfort in the fact that you are still that idealistic, benevolent, altruistic, soft-hearted fool we all knew and loved in Academy. If you weren’t, this wouldn’t be nearly as fun, Doctor.”

The Master used his name — the name he had given him — like a curse, an insult. The irony of it all was that in nine centuries, only one person lived other than himself and the Master who knew the root of his name. The Doctor.

“It was a nickname at first,” he finally answered Rose. “A taunt, really. I wasn’t exactly the favored student at Academy. Everyone knew of my parentage, the Cardinals made no secret of their distaste in my muddied bloodlines, and I wasn’t exactly the model example of stoicism and detachment.”

Looked at him over her shoulder, Rose turned her back to him and slipped her arms free of the shirtsleeves. “Keep talking, Doctor.”

He watched, blood pounding in his ears, as Rose kept her back to him and managed to shimmy free of the small clothes hidden beneath his blue shirt. She had more talents than he’d ever counted on. When she winked at him, he blinked and forced himself to focus.

“Um… right. Ah… nickname. Actually, it started with my friend.” When he said ‘friend’ his voice caught, and Rose looked back at him. His teeth clicked together and he swallowed. “Sorry. I just haven’t thought of him in a very, very long time.” His eyes snapped back to her, and Rose held out her arm, dangling the now removed tank top off her fingertips. She dropped it on the floor before buttoning up the front of the shirt.

“You’re not talking, Doctor.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes on the dropped tank. “I had ideas to change things. Make things better, not just for us, but for everyone. All the species and planets we watched, sometimes just let die. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t do more. Fix things. So, my friend started calling me The Doctor… the Fixer.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t meant to be a… he didn’t mean it like that. But, others started calling me Doctor in ridicule.”

“Why would you use it as a name then?” She turned back around to face him when the shirt was buttoned just enough to cover her breasts while leaving plenty of cleavage.

He shrugged one shoulder, taking a step toward her. “They called me a revolutionary, a rebel, a human-lover. I supposed I was all those things. And I didn’t want to be anything else.”

“You’d be surprised how far from that boy I am,” he answered, leaving the explanation hanging.

“Is it your old age that makes you drift away in your own thoughts? Lost in the horror and terror if it all? Reliving the death of Gallifrey?” the Master sneered, pulling the Doctor from his memories. “Or, are you remembering better times?”

“Better times,” he answered without pause.

“Tell me, Doctor. And I mean this… tell me what has happened to you since you left Gallifrey with that pretty little slip of a granddaughter of yours. Just the juicy bits.”

“Nothing that would interest you.”

The Master huffed and rolled his head. “Which means you spent the last few centuries saving planets that should have been left to die, fixing things that you decided were wrong, and generally thumbing your nose at the entire Time Lord Council.” He smirked and chuckled. “I always loved that about you… the thumbing your nose part, not the pathetic, universe saving stuff.” The Master breathed in through his nose and set his elbow on the table to brace his temple against his fist. At least he stopped the tapping. “We are gods, Doctor. You know that. We have the power to destroy and to save. We hold life in our hands.” He held out his hand, fingers curled in, shaking it to emphasize his words.

“Because we can doesn’t mean we should.”

The Master made a dismissive sound and waved off the Doctor’s words. He collapsed back in the chair again and contemplated the Doctor. He smiled again, but this time it held a touch of remembrance, lacking in the insane twist he’d inherited with this regeneration. “Despite it all, Doctor, I do remember those days at Academy with fondness. I remember when you told me you’d fallen in love, such a foolish notion. She was ‘so beautiful’. The light in your eyes was dazzling. Made we wish for something similar.”

“You were the first person I told…”

“I know, and I always both hated and loved you for that.” Listening to him speak was like running someone’s speech through a voice modulator. One sentence would be sharp and cold, the next distant and sad, like now.

He sucked in a sharp breath, as if shaking off whatever emotion his words brought. “We were the outcasts, you and I. For different reasons, of course… but like draws to like. Well, not always. I was drawn to you for the very reasons that made me an outcast.”

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes shifting as he looked at the Doctor — decrepit, weak and old — and one corner of his lips tipped up in a distant smile. The Doctor refused to look away, to brush aside the conversation as of yet. A small part of him hoped that if he could finally get the Master to talk to him, like this, like they once did, he could find the part of him that would end this without lives being lost.

“You were bad enough, my friend,” the Master finally said. “Not only did you — a mighty and exalted Time Lord-to-Be — marry, which was frivolous, unnecessary and barbaric by the mandate of the Time Lord Council, but you married a woman considered your inferior. You couldn’t have been much worse than if you married a human like your father. But I… I—”

“That’s the past,” the Doctor said, doing his best to gently cut off his one-time friend. The memories the Master tried to dredge up was painful for both of them, for different reasons. “Why relive old pains?”

The Master lunged forward from his chair, crouching beside the Doctor with his cheek pressed to the Doctor’s forehead. “Oh, but reliving the past is one of my greatest joys, my dear old friend. I remember it all so well, even now, centuries later. You tried so hard to save me from that pain… but you never realized that your words only made it worse.”

“I did realize. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Perhaps you did. I remember now. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mimicked. He sighed, his hand stroking over the Doctor’s thinning hair. “I think it might have been better if you’d reacted like all the others. If you’d looked at me with contempt and disgust. If you’d walked away.” His voice trailed off... distant. “At least you had the good manners to act surprised.”

“I wasn’t. Not really.” The Doctor closed his eyes and forced himself not to move away. “Is that why you’re doing this now? Because I fell in love with Mara?” He paused, not knowing if his words would soothe or enrage. The Master was too volatile to know for sure. “Because all I ever could be was your friend?”

The Master grabbed the back of the chair, and spun it hard, stepping back with his arms wide. The room blurred and the Doctor forced his feeble, aching hands to hang on to the chair arms to keep from tumbling to the floor. The Master flew by four times before the chair slowed and he finally stopped. The Master jerked the chair to face him, leaning down with his hands on the arms.

“You must think highly of yourself to imagine that I do what I do because of you. Because of — what is the phrase humans use? — a broken heart? Or, in our case, I guess it would be two broken hearts.”

“You brought up those days, not me.”

The Master smacked a hard kiss to the Doctor’s forehead before collapsing again in his chair, slouched down low. He twisted the chair back and forth, keeping his gaze on the Doctor. “Tell me something, Doctor. Did you ever feel it again?”

The Doctor blinked slowly, the fatigue of old age and the exhaustion of holding a conversation with a mad man wearing him down. “Feel what…”

“Love,” he said with a gleeful grin, arching his eyebrows. “That rush you told me about that made you forget everything you were, everything you were meant to be, everything you could have become…” The words ‘with me’, hung between them without being spoken. “Did you ever find again a woman worth breaking the rules to be with? A woman as glorious and perfect as your precious Mara?”

The Doctor contemplated his answer. He could attempt to lie, but just as he knew the Master, the Master knew him. They knew the ultimate truth about each other, the forbidden secrets of their true names, and the lengths that each would go for what they wanted. If he tried to lie, the Master would know. He weighed the outcomes, and without the leverage the Master sought, giving him the truth seemed to matter little.

“Yes,” he finally answered, simply.

“Aaaw,” the Master sighed with a tilt of his head. “That is precious. But… not that fiery little tart you showed up with, am I right?”

“No. Not Martha.”

The Master leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I see it in your eyes, old friend, as cloudy and old as they are. You’ve lost her.”

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

He moved his chair closer so their knees touched and he took the Doctor’s hands, his grip too firm. It sent shards of pain up his arms as dry, brittle bone scraped against bone. “Then know this, my dear old friend… were it in my power to bring her back to you, I would. If only to see your face when I took her away again.”

He made the promise without pause, without the slightest waver in his voice. Cold flowed through the Doctor’s veins, chilling his hearts, because he knew the Master — his once closest and dearest friend, his confidant — meant every word.

The crack of gunfire echoed in the observatory, and half a second too late the Doctor lunged forward and caught the Master before he fell.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispered as he lowered his friend to the floor. The smell of singed flesh and blood assaulted his nose, and a dark red stain spread across the man’s chest.

Already his breathing was rough and wet, and he stared up at the Doctor. He smiled, but it barely touched his lips. “Always the women.”

“I didn’t see her.”

“Dying in your arms. Happy now?”

“You’re not dying, don’t be stupid.” He tried to keep the panic from his voice. For just a little while, he had actually hoped that things could be different. That things could change. He should have known… “It’s only a bullet. Just regenerate.”

“No.”

“One little bullet. Come on.”

“I guess you don’t know me so well.” The Master stared up at him, barely blinking, not looking away. “I refuse.”

The Doctor held him tighter, wanting to curse him for his stupidity. He was offering all he could… life! “Regenerate. Just regenerate! Please. Please! Just regenerate! Come on!”

“And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?”

“You’ve got to. Come on!” he begged. Tears burned his eyes, dropping to darken spots on the Master’s red-stained shirt. “It can’t end like this. You and me, all the things we’ve done. Axons. Remember the Axons? And the Daleks?”

The Master only watched him, pain twisting his features. Dear Rasillon, how much more could he be expected to take? How many more could he be expected to lose? He had thought he’d lost them all once… what cruel twist of the universe gave him back one small piece of Gallifrey — gave him back a glimpse of a friend masked behind the twisted soul of a madman — only to yank it away again? “We’re the only two left. I have no one else.”

Still, the Master only listened… refusing to allow his body to heal.

“Regenerate!” the Doctor demanded, unable to hold back the agony.

“How about that,” his old friend said. “I win.”

Win? What was there to win? How could this be the ultimate victory?

His face twisted in pain and he turned into him, hissing through his teeth. For a moment, his eyes softened and he released a breath. “Will it stop, Doctor? The drumming? Will it stop?”

His body tensed and his last breath puffed from his lips before he went limp. The Doctor slumped onto the floor as much as he could while still holding the Master to him. The pain was choking, the loss a bitter bile in his throat as he buried his face against the silent body of his friend.

No!

It was truly over. They were all gone.

And he was alone.

Long Journey Home (6/?)

Tue, 26 May 2009 00:32:02 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. I guess you could say this particular portion happens in Pete's Universe just before Sound of Drums in the Doctor's Universe.

Genre: Reunion/Fix-it Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

Pete’s World
Twelve months, one week and three days
Since Canary Warf

Rose sat in the dark nursery, staring through the softly billowing curtains at the giant moon beyond. The cool summer evening breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle and boganvelia from the garden below, reminding her of Sarah Jane Smith’s garden, and the only sound outside was the wind in the trees.

She rocked slowly in the gliding rocker, her feet tucked into the seat and her knees against the arms, with Tony nestled against her chest. He’d finished his bottle half an hour before, and had drifted off to sleep with a heavy sigh, but Rose didn’t want to give up the tiny spot of warmth on her chest quite yet.

She hummed softly no tune in particular. It was more of a rhythm… soft and low… a soothing cadence that was familiar to her soul, even if no one else would ever be able to place the song. It was a lullaby, just not one with words. A lullaby that had soothed her to sleep when she was nineteen and terrified of the new life she had jumped into feet first. It let her drift while she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom and wondered about the mysterious man who made her blood sing and her heart pound. It led her to him the first night they made love. And it wrapped around them when they held each other and he pretended to sleep just so he could lie beside her.

The door opened with a soft creak and her mum came in, the light from the hallway casting a long shadow on the carpet.

“You should put him down, sweetheart. He’ll never sleep on his own.”

Jackie eased Tony from her hold, and cooed softly to him when he whined a little before putting him in his crib. Rose immediately felt the loss of his heartbeat against hers and the warm spot he’d created, and drew her knees to her chest. This was her favorite room now, with its pale blue walls and celestial border filled with planets and moons.

In the three weeks since Tony had arrived, Rose found herself here more and more. She’d never thought of herself as a motherly person, had always shied away from her younger cousins and scowled when people brought their babies into restaurants where she happened to be eating. She never had patience for tantrums and tears.

Now, she was a paradox unto herself. She craved being near Tony, longed to hold him and soothe him, and yet the entire idea terrified her.

She finally consented to leave the nursery, following her mother into the hall and downstairs to the kitchen. Rose perched on one of the barstools at the counter while her mother made tea.

“Have you thought about what I said, sweetheart?” her mum finally asked. The question had been sitting between them for two days.

“I can’t, Mum.”

Her mother huffed, but continued making the tea. Only her mother and Pete knew about the baby, and Rose had made Pete swear to secrecy when she found out her mother had shared the secret. She couldn’t risk… didn’t dare risk… anyone else finding out. Not even Mickey. Rose worked for Torchwood, and she knew what kind of reception anything ‘alien’ received. It wasn’t all that different from the Torchwood in her universe. They took it, they dissected it, they picked it apart, and then they used it to their own ends.

What would they do with a child that had alien blood in its veins? A child with two hearts and — if she had to bet — a mind capable of surpassing the greatest geniuses the human race had ever known. A child that needed to be with his or her father.

“But what if they can help? They can tell you if everything is okay. If he’s growing okay.”

“How would they know? Mum, I’m already a year pregnant, maybe more since I have no bloody clue when I conceived. How are they supposed to tell me if the baby is growing okay? As soon as I say anything, I’m going to be under a microscope until the baby comes, whenever that is! How am I going to get back to him if I’m in a lab?”

Jackie closed her eyes and set their mugs down on the counter. Rose knew her words hurt her mother… the knowledge that all Rose wanted was to leave. She didn’t want to leave her mum, but she had no choice as far as she could see. Just like she’d told the Doctor just before she lost him…

I made my choice a long time ago, and I’m never going to leave you.

As far as she was concerned, getting back to him no matter the cost was one in the same promise.

“Sweetheart,” her mother began in a tone Rose knew so well. It said that whatever words came out of her mouth next would probably be something Rose didn’t want to hear. “I’m not asking you this to hurt you, and I don’t want you to think I’m doubting you… but, are you sure you’re pregnant? That you’re…” She waved her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “That you’re still pregnant? All you did were those home tests, and that was months ago. What if—“

“What if something happened?” Rose asked quietly. She wasn’t surprised by the question, because it was one she had asked herself already. Sure, she’d had to go up a size in her jeans. She’d swear she’d felt the small butterfly flutters of a child moving inside her. Sometimes, she swore she could sense the touch of a tiny, seeking mind reaching out to her. But, for anyone who didn’t look close enough, Rose hadn’t changed at all since coming to this world.

Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing… maybe deep down she’d wanted it so badly her body had told her what she wanted to hear. She’d heard of it before… even read about it on the Internet. Phantom pregnancies. Maybe she’d finally overeaten her quota of chips, just like Mickey always warned her. Maybe something had happened to her to change her, but that something wasn’t a baby. Maybe…. Maybe… maybe…

Jackie released a long breath and let her hands rest on the counter. She didn’t say anything, but just nodded. Rose slid from her stool and motioned for her mother to follow her. Jackie did without question, and Rose led her to the suite of bedrooms she’d been using since arriving. She still didn’t think of them as her rooms, and as far as she was concerned, she was just a guest until she found her way home.

Rose had asked herself all the questions. She’d spent countless hours staring at her ceiling in the painful silence of the big, empty house questioning everything. Questioning her body, her mind… questioning the impossible. Until finally, she had done something to make sure.

Inside the room, she went to her bedside table and took from the drawer a handheld sonic transmission device she’d doctored after hours. She smiled whenever she saw it, wondering if he would be proud of her attempts at making something ‘sonic’.

“Sit down, Mum.”

Jackie did, her blue eyes wide as she watched Rose settle on the bed. This had become almost a nightly ritual for Rose so she had the process down pat. She settled back on the pillows and tugged down the edge of her lounge pants until the small swell of her lower stomach was exposed. With a flip of the switch, the transmitted hummed to life.

“Tell me now…” Rose said softly before setting it to her skin just below her bellybutton. Almost immediately, the sound of two very rapid and distinct heartbeats filled the dark, quiet room. They were in rhythm, precise and infallible, but one was a half-beat behind the other so they were separate and undeniable two hearts beating in tandem.

Jackie sucked in a sharp breath and reached out a shaking hand to lay it on Rose’s stomach. Something tiny, something deep inside, shifted beneath Jackie’s touch… reaching out to the contact. Rose blinked hard, and sent out a silent ‘thank you’ for the tiny reminder that she carried the most precious piece of life inside her.

“By now I should just give up expecting anything but the impossible when that Doctor of yours is involved,” Jackie said softly.

Rose nodded, not daring to speak again. She tried — and failed — to keep the desperate surge of panic at bay that hit her so hard sometimes she nearly choked on it. Without a word, Jackie scooted forward and took Rose in her arms, holding her as she cried. The sobs nearly choked her, welling up from her soul the way they had when she thought he’d left her, thought he’d lied to her… when he changed his face and she thought she was alone.

“What if I don’t find a way, Mum?” she wept against her mother’s shoulder, curling her fingers into Jackie’s jumper until her knuckles ached. “What if I fail and I lose the baby because it took too long? Oh, god… what if I never see him again just like he said? What if I do see him again, but by then it’s too late? How do I tell him I failed? How do I—“ She couldn’t finish. The word ran through her mind without mercy. How do I tell him I let his child die?

Her mother didn’t provide any answers, just stroked her hair and shushed in her ear just as she had when Rose was a little girl and had been teased on the playground for not having a dad. Or because she lived in the ‘Estates’ instead of a nice house or flat.

The phone on her bedside table buzzed and bounced. Snuffling her nose, Rose leaned back from her mother to look at it. Her ‘superphone’ sat beside it, dark and unresponsive. It hadn’t worked since she’d been pulled through. Wouldn’t even turn on. The buzzing phone was her Torchwood phone.

Huffing a breath and swallowing hard, Rose picked it up. It had to be something important if they called her this late at night.

“Yeah,” she managed to force from her throat.

“Hey, beautiful. Jack Harkness.”

Rose smiled and closed her eyes. She’d met this universe’s version of Jack Harkness just weeks after beginning her work at Torchwood, and the effect the meeting had on her nearly bowled her over. He looked just like her Jack, talked like him… smiled and flirted with anything that breathed just like hers. But, this Jack Harnkess had no memory of a tall man in a black leather jacket. A man who could scowl one minute and dance with you the next.

“Hi,” she said on a breath, feeling some of her equilibrium return. “It’s late.”

“I don’t think you’ll mind once I tell you what’s going on here. The Time Cannon—“

Rose bolted up and swung her legs off the bed. “What happened?”

“Not sure yet, but it’s showing some signs of life. Nothing big yet, and we’re not ready to bounce back to last week and revote on who won Britain’s Got Talent or anything, but I figured you might want to know.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“I thought you might say that.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

Rose turned the phone off and dropped it on the bed as she bolted for her closet to change. As she pulled her tank off over her head and pulled on a pair of jeans one size larger than she used to wear, her mother sat silent on the edge of the bed, watching her. Jackie never asked what pulled Rose away to Torchwood until the small hours of the morning, or asked her to explain the schematics she brought home and studied through the weekend. Rose couldn’t explain them to Jackie, couldn’t explain how she even understood, and part of her knew Jackie didn’t want to know. She’d had her fill of the extraordinary while her daughter flittered around space and time with a man in a blue box.

Rose pulled on her boots and grabbed a leather jacket from her closet. “I don’t know when I’ll be home,” she said as she came back out of the closet.

She made it almost to the bedroom door before her mother called after her. Rose stopped with her hand on the knob, turning back. “Mum, I gotta go.”

“I know,” Jackie said with a heavy tone in her voice, her eyes sad. “Just… just promise me you’ll say good-bye.”

Rose pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I will, Mum. I promise.”

Then before she lost her control again, Rose yanked the door open and ran from the house. As she bounded down the front steps, she laid a hand on her stomach. No more doubts. No more fears. She would do this. No matter what.

Long Journey Home (5/?)

Tue, 26 May 2009 00:25:43 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. This particular part happens immediately following Blink

Please note - this section was posted a few months ago under the title Singing This Song For You. It could stand alone, which is why I posted it then... but it was intended to be a part of Long Journey Home, so I'm posting again where it would fall in the flow of the overall fic

Genre: Reunion/Fix-it Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

“Everything is just like I left it,” Martha said, her heavy footsteps vibrating through the metal grating beneath the Doctor’s back.

“What did you expect,” he asked around the sonic screwdriver held between his teeth. When he found the conduit he wanted, he took the screwdriver from his mouth and set it to 476 before zapping the connection.

“Don’t know,” Martha said from over the console. He looked sideways and saw her feet beside him. She crouched, but he was so far beneath the console, he only saw up to her bent knees and where her hands hung loose between them. “Guess it’d been so long I figured it’d be all dusty or something.”

“We don’t know how long the TARDIS was actually without us, Martha. For us it was…” He trailed off, calibrating his internal linear time line. “Three months, two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, forty-seven minutes and… hummmm… approximately 33.5 seconds. For her, it could have been no more than ten minutes.”

“Approximately,” Martha said with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Just estimating, really.”

She stood and walked to the jump seat, the springs squeaking when she sat. “I knew this bloke in school that named his car, called her Roxie. He wouldn’t let you get in with shoes on, and polished it every Saturday. But, he never talked about Roxie like she was alive like you do with the TARDIS.”

The Doctor focused on the conduit. He’d planned on doing this minor repair before the angels had thrown him and Martha to 1969, but hadn’t gotten to it. Like he told Martha, he had no idea how long the TARDIS had been alone, and his ship wasn’t telling, so he wanted to make sure it was fixed before they travelled again. More to fact, he was trying not to think of Martha’s flat view of the TARDIS, and tried not to remember how deeply Rose had known the truth.

“Probably because Roxie wasn’t alive.”

“I mean, I know you’ve got this kind of mental connection to the ship and all, but that’s just a way to drive it – control it, right?”

“I warn you, Martha… the TARDIS doesn’t like being talked about like she’s not here.”

Thick.

The word tickled over his consciousness and he grinned, feeling the slight edge of sarcasm the TARDIS laced with the word. “Behave,” he said softly.

“What’d you say?”

The Doctor cleared his throat and scooted on his back to get out from beneath the console. “Nothing,” he said gaining his feet. He switched on the Latitude Relay and turned the computer monitor toward him to read the results of his diagnostic. Things seemed relatively normal… hold on. He spoke again, but kept his focus on the feedback. It looked like something in the archive library might be interfering with the diagnostic. “I though you and she came to a bit of an understanding while I was… “ He cleared his throat again. “Otherwise occupied in 1913 England.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I talked to her once or twice when I came in. But, I also used to talk to my computer and my VCR when they wouldn’t work right.”

The Doctor didn’t feel like getting into a debate about the sentient existence of his TARDIS in comparison to Martha’s archaic-in-comparison computer, so he focused silently on the data stream. Something was definitely interfering, and it appeared to be something in the archives. A file, or some sort of record.

“You’re going to be tied up with this for hours, aren’t you.”

He intended to nod, or hum some affirmative response, but the archived file had him perplexed and his inclination to answer her got lost somewhere between his brain and any part of him that might say “Yes, I’m going to be here for a bit.”

“Just like any other bloke,” Martha said, hopping off the jump seat, her boots loud on the grating. “Get something good on the telly, or some online chat room, and everything else disappears. I’ll be… somewhere.” Then she left him alone, and for a brief moment the Doctor felt guilty for his relief.

He used to love it when Rose sat with him and talked while he worked. Or just sat silently and watched him. He liked the feeling of having her near him, and enjoyed the subtle electricity in the air when she was there. But Martha… he knew that standing aside and watching him live a life as a human had been a difficult thing to ask of her. And he’d thanked her for it all. But, at times, he had to fight the urge to tell her to leave him be.

But then, he’d be left with the silence. And sometimes the silence was worse than the idle conversation that went nowhere.

The relay diagnostic wavered on the screen and halted for several seconds before continuing. “What is that,” he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the keyboard interface to try and access the file. Maybe if he could open it, he could figure out why it was stopping things up.

A cold rush of panic skittered over his senses, and his fingers paused on the keyboard. He looked up at the engine pistons, squinting. “What? What’s the matter with you?”

Leave it alone.

“Why?”

Please. Pain.

“Who… you? Is this hurting you?”

Please.

If the TARDIS’ plea had been meant to make him ignore the troublesome file, it accomplished the opposite. Even with the TARDIS nudging him to stop, he dug and poked, attempting access to the archive through several different programs – from data language translators to text display modes. Nothing would open the file. If it was bothering her systems, he intended to get it out.

He jabbed in another set of commands, trying a data recovery and recording program. The monitor fuzzed, like snow on an old Earth television, and he watched – hoping he’d found the right approach.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for you, Doctor.”

He heard her voice before the image cleared, and both hearts seized in his chest. Immediately, his throat constricted and he curled his fingers around the edge of the monitor.

“Rose…”

The image sharpened, the snow clearing, and there she was. He recognized the room she stood in as the music conservatory on the TARDIS, but where she was mattered far less than that she was there.

She took his breath away.

Rose wore a shimmering, silver-sequined evening gown that clung to her curves and wrapped around her bodice to accentuate her breasts and the indent of her waist, a single thin strap tied from the valley of her breasts around her neck. Her blonde hair was parted on the left, and fell in smooth waves around her face to brush her bare shoulders. Crimson lipstick painted her lips, a sharp but appealing contrast to her ‘yellow and pink’ paleness.

A 1940’s-style microphone stood on a stand in front of her and she laid her hand over the top, curling her crimson-tipped fingers around it. Looking ahead, she met his gaze through time.

She cleared her throat and licked her lips. “I don’t know why I can’t do this in front of you, but I want to do this because you asked.”

There were only a few couples on parquet dance floor, and as the band played a slow dance song, the Doctor held Rose’s hand above her head and turned her slowly before circling her waist with his arm and pulling her close. He pressed the hand he held to his chest, covering it with his own as they swayed.

“You’re better at this than you used to be,” she said with a small smirk.

“I’m better at a lost of things than I used to be.”

Rose groaned. “You wish.”

The music slowed, and the Doctor pressed his hand into the small of her back to bring her flush against him and when she settled into his hold, he slid his hand down to just follow the curve of her bottom.

Rose tipped her head back, her cheeks slightly flushed, a sensual smile that begged to be kissed on her lips. “Overall, it’s been a rather uneventful evening,” she said. “No running. A serious lack of running.”

The Doctor looked out across the room, smiling before meeting her eyes. “It’s not always about running. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying. Speaking of which... I would very much enjoy hearing you sing.”

She didn’t say anything, just looking up at him, but the color in her cheeks deepened.

“On Gallifrey, we’re raised to have a deep love of music in all forms. But, my favorite music is the voice… it’s individual and imperfect, and yet the most beautiful thing in the world.” The music continued, but their dancing stopped so the Doctor could lay his hands on her cheeks. Rose slid her arms around his waist. “You must be so beautiful when you sing.”

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go of the grip he hand on the console, leaning forward to watch the screen. Rose looked away from the recording device, curling a bit of hair behind her ear, and he silently begged her to look back so he could see her eyes. The same beautiful blossom of color that had tinted her cheeks at Shireen’s wedding darkened her cheeks in the recording.

“Oh, you beautiful girl,” he said softly to the empty console room.

She raised her head again, and curled both hands around the old microphone. Rose laughed softly and shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Faced robots and monsters and the end of the world…” She trailed off and seemed to gather herself, switching topics as she smoothed her hand over her dress. “Figured if I was going to do it, I’d really do it all out. Seems crazy now.”

He shook her head, even though he knew she’d never know.

“I’ll give this to you someday. I promise.”

Rose looked around, and seemed to find what she wanted on a small stand she had set up near the microphone. She raised a control device and pointed it to the ceiling, and the soft, brassy sound of a trumpet began to play a soulful, jazzy melody with a piano accompaniment.

“I hope you know why I chose this song,” she said over the music. “I mean it all, but there’s one line that…” She huffed, and he saw a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “It’s for you.”

As the trumpet and brass played with the piano, Rose closed her eyes with her head tilted to the side as she listened.

Then she began to sing.

And the Doctor watched through the burn of tears.

“I’ve been so many places in my life and time.” The piano slid through her singing with ease, and she whispered into the microphone “Because of you, Doctor.” Her body swayed softly, and she opened her eyes again – looking right at him. “I’ve sung a lot of songs, I’ve made some bad, bad rhymes. I’ve acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching… But, we’re alone now. And I’m singing this song for you.”

Without taking his eyes from the monitor, the Doctor reached out and flipped a switch on the console, and in a burst of sound, the music reverberated around him through the TARDIS harmonics – surrounding him, thrumming through him… filling him.

“I know your image of me is what I hope to be. I’ve treated you unkindly, but Doctor, can’t you see? There’s no one more important to me! So, Doctor, can’t you please see through me? Because we’re alone now and I’m singing this song for you.

Her singing voice was the most powerful, most soul-inspiring sound he had ever heard. Not even the Singing Towers on Darillium could come close, and he had once said they were the most beautiful sound in all the universe.

“You taught me precious secrets, the truth – withholding nothing. You came out front when I was hiding. But now I’m so much better, so if my words don’t come together, listen to the melody because my love is there in hiding.”

A trumpet overtook the music, and as it played a worbling rift, Rose stepped back from the microphone with one hand still resting on it, and looked down as she turned partially away. He saw more of her frame, and the way the dress flowed from her hips into a shimmering cascade of sequins and silk. Her hair fell forward across her cheek, and he couldn’t stop himself from laying his fingertip on the monitor screen, his hand trembling as she curled the bit behind her ear. The trumpet eased away, and she came back to the microphone, curling her lips between her teeth before looking at him again.

“Listen,” she said softly before singing again.

“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time.” She tipped her head back so her voice filled the console room, her arms spread out from her body. The reverberation skimmed over him, and the Doctor choked on the lump caught in his throat. “I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.

“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

She repeated the words, letting her voice drop to a low, huskiness that tingled on his skin. The music died away, and her eyes closed until the notes finished. Finally, with his chest aching, the Doctor blinked against the hot tears.

Rose opened her eyes again, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I can’t seem to say it otherwise, Doctor. So, maybe when you hear this… you’ll know.” Then she shook her head, snatching up the remote where she had returned it. “I’m nutters. I’m going to erase this just as soon as I figure out how.”

With that, she pointed the remote to the camera and jabbed at it several times before the screen went black.

His body shook, and he gripped the console to stay on his feet. The Doctor dropped his head, resting his brow against the monitor as he sucked in sharp breaths. It hurt, oh, how it hurt to see her face and hear her voice. But, it was a pain he wanted because he’d rather have it than have nothing.

So sorry.

“No, no… “ he managed to choke out. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”

“Who was that singin’?” he heard from behind him as Martha jogged into the console room. “It was echoing through the entire TARDIS.”

He couldn’t speak yet, his hands aching from the grip he held on the console edge. The Doctor shifted just enough to give Martha his back, begging for the few precious moments he needed to rein it all in.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize I had engaged the harmonics throughout the ship.” He was proud of the strength in his voice, how it only wavered slightly and only sounded slightly worn.

“No, it’s okay. It was beautiful.”

He finally straightened, releasing the console to run his hand over his face and wipe away any trace of the tide of emotion that he hadn’t been able to hold back. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“So, who was it?”

“Rose,” he said with more force than he intended, and immediately swallowed. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stepped back from the console and the now-black screen. He could almost still hear the echo of trumpets and piano and Rose’s powerful voice. “It was Rose.”

Before Martha could ask any more questions, and before he lost the tight rein of control he’s maintained for so many, many months, the Doctor turned on the balls of his feet and left the console room. He stumbled into their bedroom – a room he had only entered but hadn’t slept in since he lost her. The bed was far too big and far too empty. The Doctor nearly collapsed before he reached the foot of the bed, and sank heavily onto the mattress, holding his head in his hands.

His ship knew what he needed, even though she had hidden the recording from him to protect him from the pain. Now that he felt it – now that he’d heard the song – he wanted more. Within moments, the strain of trumpets and piano filled the room. This time, it was for him only.

He closed his eyes and listened.

“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time. I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.

“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

A/N

Here is a version of Singing this Song for You by Michael Buble on YouTube. I know he's not Rose, and too bad I couldn't get Billie Piper singing it... LOL... but you get a ear for what the Doctor sang.

Long Journey Home (4/?)

Sun, 24 May 2009 04:57:45 GMT

Long Journey Home (3/?)

Fri, 22 May 2009 22:46:30 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. This particular bit would be placed in the Doctor's Universe after 42 and before Human Nature/The Family of Blood.

Genre: Reunion/Fix-It Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

A/N... Nope, I don't care for Martha Jones. At least not while she was traveling with the Doctor.

The Doctor’s Universe
He’s been to the moon and back… and then some.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Martha asked, the words muffled through her wide-mouthed yawn. “I mean, we’ve been to the moon, to New New York, old New York, London again… and I don’t think I’ve seen you so much as stumble.”

The Doctor only slid his gaze from the TARDIS console long enough to register Martha’s bleary eyes and the exhausted slump of her body as she sank onto the jump seat. “I don’t require much sleep.”

She laughed. “That’d come in handy doing a double shift.”

He managed a smile, but little else. Normally, the Doctor was not one who had difficulty dividing his attention between repairs on the TARDIS, holding a conversation, and working out some random or specific problem in his head. But, that usually came from motivation. He always enjoyed his conversations with Rose, and he liked it when she sat with him. But this was Martha, and while Martha Jones had proven herself to be intelligent enough, he also felt the subtle tension that existed between them. Even after a few short trips and what mattered to little more than a few days for her.

She probably thought he hadn’t noticed her reaction when he spoke of Rose. And her frustration at his disinterest in not sharing their bed for more than sleeping while staying at The Elephant Inn hadn’t escaped him. He’d chosen to ignore it, or more to fact, chosen to make it clear that their time together was short.

But 1599 London had led to New New York — which had proven to be more torture for him than the remembrance he had hoped for — and New New York to old New York, and the face-off with the only species in the Universe that could make his blood run colder.

Twice he’d demanded they kill him just to end their reign of terror. And twice, he’d actually been angry with them for not carrying through. He hadn’t demanded it of the Racnoss, but if it hadn’t been for Donna Noble’s words.

Doctor! You can stop now!

The Doctor had been at the edge of this slippery slope before, and it had been Rose that brought him back from it. Her companionship, her acceptance, and eventually her love. He would have to find the balance alone this time.

It was better that way. No one to be a failure to but himself.

“Doctor, are you even listening?”

Martha’s near-shout brought him back from his musings and he realized his hand had stilled over the temporal loop-back modulator. He finished the turn and drew a sharp breath in through is nostrils.

“Right, sorry. What was that, Martha?” he asked, finally raising his chin and looking at her fully.

“I said that you must have some place to sleep around here? You said you don’t need much, but that must mean you need </i>some.”

His thoughts immediately flashed to the bedroom just beyond the console room door, the room that the TARDIS had always kept close by for him. In the same hall was the kitchen and the lift that led to any part of the ship they wanted, and the bedroom that Rose had used when she first arrived. And after his regeneration until they’d found their way back to each other.

“You said this ship is bigger on the inside. S’gotta be more than just this room.”

“Of course it is. The TARDIS gives me everything I need.”

You need rest.

Her nudge was gentle but insistent, and he nodded his head. He did, he knew he did. He hadn’t slept since… well… he’d slept for a bit in the library after visiting with Susan. How long ago was that?

“What’s behind the big, foreboding door there.” She motioned over her shoulder with her thumb toward the steel double door that led to the hallway and the rest of the TARDIS.

He looked up, stared at the door, and drew in a deep breath. He’d only wandered into the hallway a few times… to eat, to change — always as quickly as possible so as to not be lost to the deafening silence and emptiness of their bedroom — and to catch some sleep on the couch in the library. But, that had been a long time ago… before Martha… and so much had happened since then.

The Doctor jumped when Martha slammed her hand down on the console beside him. “What?”

“Sometimes, I swear talking to you is like talking to a rock,” she snapped out, her dark eyes wide as she leaned on her hand. “I asked if you had a guest bedroom or something on this blasted ship.”

The TARDIS jerked and rumbled.

“Oh, hush.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fine, fine.” The Doctor moved around Martha and headed for the double doors, shoving them open with much more effort than should have been required. But the doors had appeared shortly after Martha’s arrival, and the Doctor suspected it was the TARDIS’s passive aggressive streak making itself apparent.

She didn’t like Martha at all.

As soon as the doors opened, the light sconces along the hallway walls lit one by one until the entire stretch of wainscot walls and Turkish carpet was lit from the console room to the balcony of the library’s second floor. The air was warm and fresh… just as the TARDIS always kept it for Rose… and a subtle scent of flowers hung in the air. Roses.

“Oh, my god…” Martha gasped, stepping past him into the hall. “This place is huge!”

“This is hardly all of it, Martha,” the Doctor said with a tone he knew was probably condescending, but he really was tired. “This is just where we… I… live. Here’s the kitchen.” He motioned through the wide arching doorway that let into the massive kitchen. It had grown so much since Rose came. Used to be a space big enough for making tea and dispensing those nasty nutrition bars he couldn’t bring himself to eat anymore. “Feel free to do what you like, the cupboards are always full. Tell the TARDIS what you want, and she might give it to you.”

“Tell? How? Some kind of computer or somethin’ like you see on Star Trek?”

The Doctor squinted his face and blew out through is lips. “No, Martha. Just tell her.” He didn’t bother explain any further. If she got hungry enough, she’d figure it out. “The end of the hall there is the library. Books from all over the universe. Feel free.”

“Where are the bedrooms, then?” she asked, taking steps toward the closest door. Their bedroom… Just as she reached it, the door slammed shut. Hard. Martha pulled her hand back and looked at him, looking shocked and slightly put out.

“That’s my bedroom,” he forced out. “Our bedroom. Mine and—“

“Rose’s. Yeah, got it,” Martha scowled. She headed down the hall to the next open door, and just as the first, the door slammed shut before she could enter. But not before the Doctor saw the flash of blonde hair and pink dress behind the door giving it the hard shove.

“You’re being miserable,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

Not hers. Forever Rose’s. She’ll come back. Won’t like things touched.

“She’s not…” The Doctor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Martha looked at him like he had grown two heads, but followed him to the end of the hall where another door stood open. It was as far away from his room as the TARDIS could manage without putting Martha in another part of the ship. The Doctor hadn’t told the TARDIS as much, but he knew she understood that her tricks and games could only go so far. He’d asked Martha to come with them, and as their guest, she was to be treated no worse than Vislor Turlough or Mickey Smith.

He pushed the door open for her, almost dreading what he would find inside. But no Vorakian goo dripped from the ceilings and the temperature wasn’t near freezing, so he stepped inside. She had done the least she could do without seeming like a complete cat. The room was decent sized with a simple bed draped in a brown coverlet and ample furniture to be comfortable. Another door opened to the bathroom, and the Doctor heard the slight creak and shift of walls as the TARDIS finished the job.

“Here you go,” the Doctor said, sweeping the room with his hand. “Home sweet home, for now at least.”

“Thank you.” Martha’s voice had softened, losing the snap and bit of moments before. “I’m really knackered. You gonna sleep now, too?”

“Probably. Don’t worry. We’re hovering in the Vortex, perfectly safe. Sleep as long as you like. Mornings are relative here.”

He walked behind her to leave, but Martha turned, touching his arm. “Doctor, hang on.”

He bit his tongue, feeling the weight of fatigue dragging at him now that he finally acknowledged it. And when he got tired, he got cranky. Since he’d given up the habit of catching an hour or so each night just to sleep beside Rose, he hadn’t exactly made sure to catch his rest. Instead, he just turned back and waited for her to say whatever she needed to say.

“Doctor, I’m confused. One minute you’re all laughs and smiles, hugging me because we’re alive, and the next you act like I’m your great aunt Bertha who’s over stayed her welcome. Do you want me here, or not?”

No, he didn’t want her there. He didn’t want anyone there. But, he knew he couldn’t do that… couldn’t be alone again. Donna Noble had pegged him. He needed someone to stop him… or someone he had to stop for… someone he couldn’t drag down with him.

“I wouldn’t have said okay if I didn’t.” It softened the lie, at least.

Long Journey Home (2/?)

Fri, 22 May 2009 00:55:05 GMT

Pete’s World
Seven Months since Canary Warf

When Rose stood on the beach in Norway and told the Doctor she wasn’t carrying his child, she hadn’t lied. She just hadn’t realized. Hadn’t known.

Living in the TARDIS made something as mundane as a 28-day cycle unimportant. After more than two years with him, she’d stopped trying to calculate such things. And after coming to this alternate and wrong world, she hadn’t thought about it until her mother announced her own pregnancy.

Even then, she’d passed it off as nothing because living in the TARDIS had set her system off kilter. Or maybe it was the stress of losing him and finding herself trapped in this world where Rose Tyler didn’t exist.

Besides… he’d said… he’d told her that they couldn’t have a child together. He hadn’t said the work impossible, but it still sat between them – breaking her heart. Until then, Rose hadn’t thought so far ahead, about children and that kind of future. Some part of her had just assumed all that would come… someday.

Now, they had no ‘someday’, and the impossible had happened once again.

Seven months she’d been without him. Seven months that the possibility of being pregnant hadn’t even dawned on her. Perhaps it was because he told her it never could. Perhaps because the idea of having his child here — where their baby would belong no more than she did — was terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time.

She stared at the white plastic stick in her hand, stared at the undeniable ‘plus’ sign. Then at the half-dozen other similar tests — all different brands and types — lined up along the lavatory counter. Every one said the same thing.

Rose stood and faced herself in the mirror. She turned sideways and pulled up her pyjama top, pushing the elastic waistband of the bottoms down her hips.

There was only the slightest change. She remembered complaining to her mother the week before that her favorite denims didn’t fit quite right, and Mickey’d made a comment about laying off the chips.

Two years… The Doctor had told her his mother had carried him for two years because she was human and his father was a Time Lord. But, what did that mean for a human mother and a Time Lord with human DNA? And he told her the TARDIS had helped guide the pregnancy… and the TARDIS was in another universe now.

“So, basically…” she said to the empty room. “I haven’t a clue when you’re coming out, little one. But I promise you this…” She met her own gaze in the mirror. “I’m going to do everything in my power — even if it means collapsin’ two universes — to get us back to your dad.”

She laid her palm against her waist, pressing slightly to test for any change she might feel. The only difference was the slightest swell. Rose blinked hot tears, sniffing loudly.

“I promise.”

Jackie Tyler knocked three times and called Rose’s name before she opened the bathroom door, not waiting for Rose’s “Hang on a minute”.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late. Mickey’s been waiting downstairs in the kitchen for ten minutes, says at this rate you’ll never make….”

It was pointless to try and hide the plethora of tests spread out on the counter, and Rose stood still, holding her breath with her hand on her stomach, as Jackie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Her dark outlined eyes shifted from the sink to Rose, and a nervous twitter knotted in Rose’s stomach — just like every time she’d been caught doing something wrong as a kid.

“Mum—“

“Not a word,” Jackie snapped out, and picked up one of the tests. Her hand shook as she stared at it. “Oh, dear god.”

“Mum—“

“I’m going to kill that Mickey Smith! All that talk about you and him bein’ mates, movin’ into this house… why? So he can do this? Just like a bloke, jumpin’ in when he knew you were vulnerable—“

“Mum!!!”

Jackie stopped short, her attention shifting back to Rose, staring at her in a silent demand to know why she’d been interrupted in the middle of a perfectly good rant. Rose closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“It’s not Mickey’s baby, Mum.”

“Then who the hell’s is it?”

Her mother’s shrill voice echoed off the porcelain tile, cutting deep into Rose’s head. She hadn’t felt any morning sickness, and thankfully remembered the Doctor saying his mother’s pregnancy had been relatively easy in comparison to most human pregnancies. Perhaps the longer gestation was easier on the body.

“Rose? Who the hell is it?”

“The Doctor, Mum. Who else would I be with?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Jackie snapped.

“I’m not.” Rose couldn’t bring herself to raise her voice. This wasn’t something to fight about. “It’s the Doctor’s baby. Our baby, mine and his. It just took me this long to realize.”

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t take someone seven months to figure out they’re pregnant. And besides, you’d be showing and half-popped if it were his baby!”

Rose curled her palm across her forehead, and took a step back to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. Okay, so maybe not nausea… but this sure would explain why she’d been so tired. “It does take seven months, Mum, when your baby is only part human.”

Jackie gasped and stepped back herself, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her own extended stomach making the position awkward. Rose understood her mother’s surprise, because more than once along the way Rose had managed to forget just how ‘not’ human the Doctor was. They sat there, silent for several minutes. Rose had only had a few moments to digest the reality of her situation before her mother had barreled in, forcing her to not only accept it but explain it.

“What does this mean?” Jackie finally asked.

“I don’t know.” And it was the truth. Rose really didn’t know. She was just playing it by ear, and dealing with each new step as it came.

“Can this happen?”

“Obviously it can, Mum.”

“No, I mean… “ The strain in her mother’s voice made Rose look up, and the softening of Jackie’s expression made some of Rose’s tension slip away. “Can you have this baby? He’s not human… Oh, I sound thick,” Jackie huffed.

“S’ok, Mum. I understand. Yeah, it can happen. Time Lords have…” She stumbled for a moment, wondering how much she should tell and how much she had to tell. These were his secrets, secrets he’d shared with her but never intended for anyone else to know, especially her mother. “Time Lords have had children with humans before.”

“So he knew this could happen?” her mother shrilled.

“Don’t…” Rose took a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment to school her response. “Don’t get mad at him, Mum. He thought it couldn’t… for us. Not for us. I don’t know why — he never told me — he just said that we couldn’t.”

Jackie didn’t say anything for several minutes, and that made Rose more nervous than if she started screaming and ranting. A screaming, ranting Jackie Tyler Rose could handle. A silent one was dangerous.

“Sweetheart.” The softness in Jackie’s tone made Rose look up and meet her mother’s gaze. Tears glistened in her blue eyes, threatening to run the black eyeliner. Jackie swallowed before speaking. “Did you want to have this baby?”

The sob that ripped from Rose’s chest took her completely by surprise, leaving her choking and gasping for air. She curled forward, covering her face with her hands with her forehead resting on her knees as the cries shook her. She felt her mother’s comforting hands on her back, soothing and rubbing as she softly cooed and cajoled, kissing Rose’s hair. But it wasn’t enough.

Reality had just set in. The vicious cruelty of the entire situation. She hadn’t realized she’d wanted a baby with the Doctor until he told her he couldn’t, and it had broken her heart. He didn’t say it, but she knew he hurt in the same way. But, she had tamped down the sadness because she had him.

Now, he was gone and she couldn’t share this with him.

Rose shook her head within the cradle of her hands. No. NO! She would find a way. Impossible was just improbable, and the Doctor himself was an improbability.

For now, she just cried. These would be the only tears she shed, because she’d fix this. Damn it, she’d fix this.

Long Journey Home (1/?)

Wed, 20 May 2009 23:49:07 GMT

“Her name is Rose.”

Somehow not saying her name had kept the pain at bay. He’d tamped it down after saying good-bye across dimensions, and had managed to keep it all tucked away — or nearly all of the pain tucked away — while running around London with Donna Noble.

Something had nearly broken inside, releasing the wave of sorrow like the waters of the Thames drowning the Racnoss. He’d nearly let himself drown with the queen. Nearly just given in. But Donna had stopped him, had reminded him that his existence was not his own.

As abrasive and loud as Donna had been, something in her eyes and the way she asked let him answer.

“Your friend. What was her name?”

“Her name is Rose.”

He couldn’t say ‘was’ because that sounded like she was gone. She was gone from him, but not gone from existence, and that made her real. Made her ‘now’.

Her name is Rose, and I love her.

The snow melted in his hair, running from his brow like tear tracks, falling on his shoulders in dark spots. He engaged the TARDIS engines, and on a whim, shot her straight up through the atmosphere. She’d picked up some bugs and other unpleasantries while flying along the motorway, and a quick shot through the outer edge of the Earth’s atmosphere would burn off the little buggers.

A small giggle carried from the corner of the console room, and despite himself he felt the smallest of tugs at the corners of his lips. She had disappeared when Donna arrived, whispered away with a gasp and a wide-eyed expression as if she were as surprised as the Doctor at the bride’s sudden arrival.

“Haven’t flown in so very long,” the little blonde sprite said with a gleeful laugh. “Twice in a day. Such fun.”

“I didn’t think you liked to fly like that.”

Bare feet scampered softly across the steel grating, making her almost seem real, and he wondered just how much of his sensory perception of her was solid, and how much she whispered in his mind. They had communicated silently for so many centuries, that it was difficult for him to tell the difference.

A halo of blonde wavy hair peeked over the far side of the console, and eight tiny fingers — four on each side — curled around the coral to bracket impossibly dark blue eyes.

“Not always. But sometimes.”

He had watched her until then in his peripheral, not wanting to make her scamper off if he looked too closely. She seemed skittish, as if nervous to be around him. Which puzzled him because when he was a child, she had been his best friend. His only companion other than his parents.

“You have changed so very much, Cusa Ju Bibilia’a. I miss the little boy you hide.”

He finally raised his head and looked straight at her, but saw only her eyes as she hid behind the console. “That boy went away a long time ago.”

She ducked away, disappearing completely and soundlessly, without even the rustle of clothing or the sound of the grates beneath her.

The boy becomes the men.

The final words were in his mind only, so he knew she had decided to fade away again. He smiled, slowly traversing the console as he flipped switches and adjusted dials. There was no place to be, no one to impress or excite, nothing that begged his attention. Rose called these times Lazy Days. Days when he tinkered and she watched, or he tinkered and she lured him away to the bedroom.

His mother called them Days of Rest.

Susan called them Ice Cream Sundays, a play on the Earth dessert. When they first left Gallifrey, he had tried to make the distance between Susan and her parents more tolerable by making things fun. He knew even then he was a bit of an old codgur and tended to focus too much on her education, so he consciously made the choice to step back from lessons on dimensional relativity and universal timelines from time to time.

And those days often involved ice cream.

The Doctor smiled, remembering Susan as a small child when they’d first left. She had heard of ships like the TARDIS in her schooling, but children of Gallifrey never experienced time and space travel until well into their second or third decade, even though formal training began at eight. And only if they were chosen to do so, either to be exalted to the level of Time Lord or to serve in a scientific field supporting the Time Lords. So, for a child of such tender years to live inside a TARDIS… she knew it was a glorious thing.

She would have made a brilliant Time Lord, if she hadn’t inherited his latent human genes.

His hand hovered over the Time Reference Selection Oscillator, just the tip of his finger resting on the wheel. With a firm shove, he set the wheel into motion and slammed his palm down on it after only a few seconds.

If asked to pinpoint the moment he made the decision to plot a course, he would either have to lie or answer with “I don’t know”. And those three words barely ever passed his lips.

Are you sure?

“Yeah,” he answered, unable to offer more than that.

You’ve always stayed away.

“I know.”

The TARDIS settled, the trip being relatively short from 21st Century Earth. Not even a hundred years. The engine pistons slowed and fell still, and he tipped his head back to watch them, his hands pushed into his pockets. When she was silent again, he took his coat from one of the coral supports and opened the TARDIS door.

Twenty-Second Century Earth… late 22nd Century based on the newer architecture and the fairly pollution free quality of the air. It would have taken more than a few years to filter the atmosphere of the contaminants left behind by the Dalek attacks. So, the air wasn’t clean, but gas masks weren’t required. Some signs of the Dalek invasion – their first attempt at invading Earth even though it had taken place linearly after many of their other attempts — still remained. New, prestigious and pristine buildings stood alongside the remains of crumbled and destroyed shells.

It was probably a mistake being here, but he’d made so many mistakes that one more wouldn’t matter.

The Doctor found a public communication port, and with a few waves of his sonic screwdriver, he had the address he needed. When he read it, he smiled. Directions weren’t necessary. He’d spent five months in this part of London, even if it had been seven-hundred years ago for him. The TARDIS had piloted herself well, probably because she already knew the information he wanted, and had landed not a ten-minute walk away. Within minutes, he stood outside 76 Totter’s Lane.

“Place has changed a bit,” he said to himself as he stood outside the sidewalk gate that opened to a small garden outside the bungalow. Gone was the tall wooden fence and the lot full of discarded junk where one could easily hide away a blue police call box.

Evening twilight had settled over the city, and in the distance he heard a mother call for Percival to come home for dinner. The Doctor shook his head. Percival… poor kid. The aroma of lavender and boganvelia mingled in the air around the garden and he strolled slowly to the front door, his hands pushed deep into his trouser pockets.

A final tinge of hesitation danced across the back of his neck, and he nearly turned to leave.

The front door opened with a burst of sound from within. Laughter and music and life. A little boy with curly, dark hair burst through the open doorway in a flash of red corduroy, almost directly into the Doctor’s legs.

The Doctor laughed and picked the boy up. “What are you running from in such a hurry, eh?”

“Broccoli,” the boy answered, pulling a face.

The Doctor stuck out his tongue, matching the boy’s expression. He already felt the tingle of recognition with the child. “Bleck. I’d run, too. How do you feel about bananas?”

The door swung open and David Campbell stood in the entry, his large frame bracketed by the light within. A few years had passed, but not many, and David hadn’t changed much at all.

“Ian!” he shouted. “Get in here for dinner — Oh, good evening.”

The Doctor walked to the step and set Ian on the stoop. The boy was off in a flash again, disappearing into the depths of the house. “Good evening.”

“Sorry about that,” David said, holding out his hand, which the Doctor took. “Is there something I can do for you?”

He felt the familial whisper before she ever came into the hall, but when she did, the Doctor’s hearts stuck in his throat. He looked past David to see her, and could barely breathe. She was beautiful, and reminded him so much of his mother. Dark hair, dark eyes, and delicate features. She worked a towel between her hands, smiling first at her husband, whatever question she was about to ask falling silent. Her gaze flashed to him, and her mouth fell open, and the Doctor knew she felt it. After all the time that had passed for him, and all the changes he had gone through, he worried that their connection would be lost.

“Hello, Susan,” he managed to say through the tight restriction in his throat.

She hiccupped a small sob and ran toward them, David stepping clear just in time to let her pass and the Doctor wrapped her in his arms, lifting her feet from the floor.

“Grandfather,” she whispered against his shoulders. “Oh, Grandfather… I never thought I’d see you again.”

Long Journey Home Index Post

Wed, 20 May 2009 23:25:27 GMT

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference.

Genre: There’s everything here… first a lot of angst, then some thrills, some deep friendship, some hurt/comfort, and oh, yes… there will be romance.

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

A/N: This is not Journey’s End compliant, but I think that parts of it are a heck of a lot closer to ‘canon’ than the actual episode. In fact, in some ways it’s not Season 3 and 4 compliant. There are copious references back to other stories in the Unseen and In Between series, so many that I can’t point them all out. So, if you haven’t read the series – or it’s been awhile – you may read some things that you don’t remember. Probably a reference back. For me, it’s one long, unending loop of a story so I fall back on these facts as if they were canon.

And a note on the timeline… RTD only indicated in the series that the alternative universe was ahead of this one, but not how or why. Some believe that time moves faster there, but I am going under the assumption that time moves at the same rate, but the timelines have been jarred by going back and forth which is why Mickey came to our universe after the war there.

What this means is that Rose may have left this universe in 2006, she went to let’s say 2009 in Pete’s World. But, time moves at the same speed so two years passed for her (or roughly – I don’t assume one ‘series’ is one ‘year’). So, she may have come back to this universe in 2008, but she left Pete’s World in 2011… make sense? They’re just not aligned, it’s not a matter of time moving at a different rate.

Get it? Got it? Good. Onward…

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine

Brace yourself...

Fri, 06 Feb 2009 05:02:35 GMT

After a painfully long draught... I may, and I repeat MAY, have a bead on the 'fix' fic for the disaster that was Journey's End... at least, fixing it to fit my pretty little Who-verse.

I haven't even looked at Long Journey Home in weeks. Months. Since the airing of Journeys End, I've been in a slump. I mean, I knew they weren't going to 'give' us The Doctor and Rose forever... but I didn't think they were going to make the Doctor into a complete coward.

*ahem*

Okay, sorry... went on a tangent there, and I know not everyone agrees with me. So... anyway... just a quick post to anyone who might be paying attention that I MIGHT (again, stressing the MIGHT) post soon.

Me... signing off... to write something.

Singing This Song for You (1/1)

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 04:49:57 GMT

Title: Singing This Song For You

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Immediately after Blink. This single bit is part of a bigger, longer story that I’m working on titled Long Journey Home, that will ‘fix’ the end of Series 4 – but it can stand alone, so I’m posting.

Genre: Angst – I’m sorry. But, love, too

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: At Shireen’s Wedding, the Doctor asked Rose to sing for him. (As detailed in my story Driving Lessons)

A/N: If you want to hear the song ‘sung’… I love Michael Buble’s version. You can watch it on YouTube at the following link. I didn’t embed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAuwdcADcIU

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

“Everything is just like I left it,” Martha said, her heavy footsteps vibrating through the metal grating beneath the Doctor’s back.

“What did you expect,” he asked around the sonic screwdriver held between his teeth. When he found the conduit he wanted, he took the screwdriver from his mouth and set it to 476 before zapping the connection.

“Don’t know,” Martha said from over the console. He looked sideways and saw her feet beside him. She crouched, but he was so far beneath the console, he only saw up to her bent knees and where her hands hung loose between them. “Guess it’d been so long I figured it’d be all dusty or something.”

“We don’t know how long the TARDIS was actually without us, Martha. For us it was…” He trailed off, calibrating his internal linear time line. “Three months, two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, forty-seven minutes and… hummmm… approximately 33.5 seconds. For her, it could have been no more than ten minutes.”

“Approximately,” Martha said with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Just estimating, really.”

She stood and walked to the jump seat, the springs squeaking when she sat. “I knew this bloke in school that named his car, called her Roxie. He wouldn’t let you get in with shoes on, and polished it every Saturday. But, he never talked about Roxie like she was alive like you do with the TARDIS.”

The Doctor focused on the conduit. He’d planned on doing this minor repair before the angels had thrown him and Martha to 1969, but hadn’t gotten to it. Like he told Martha, he had no idea how long the TARDIS had been alone, and his ship wasn’t telling, so he wanted to make sure it was fixed before they travelled again. More to fact, he was trying not to think of Martha’s flat view of the TARDIS, and tried not to remember how deeply Rose had known the truth.

“Probably because Roxie wasn’t alive.”

“I mean, I know you’ve got this kind of mental connection to the ship and all, but that’s just a way to drive it – control it, right?”

“I warn you, Martha… the TARDIS doesn’t like being talked about like she’s not here.”

Thick.

The word tickled over his consciousness and he grinned, feeling the slight edge of sarcasm the TARDIS laced with the word. “Behave,” he said softly.

“What’d you say?”

The Doctor cleared his throat and scooted on his back to get out from beneath the console. “Nothing,” he said gaining his feet. He switched on the Latitude Relay and turned the computer monitor toward him to read the results of his diagnostic. Things seemed relatively normal… hold on. He spoke again, but kept his focus on the feedback. It looked like something in the archive library might be interfering with the diagnostic. “I though you and she came to a bit of an understanding while I was… “ He cleared his throat again. “Otherwise occupied in 1913 England.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I talked to her once or twice when I came in. But, I also used to talk to my computer and my VCR when they wouldn’t work right.”

The Doctor didn’t feel like getting into a debate about the sentient existence of his TARDIS in comparison to Martha’s archaic-in-comparison computer, so he focused silently on the data stream. Something was definitely interfering, and it appeared to be something in the archives. A file, or some sort of record.

“You’re going to be tied up with this for hours, aren’t you.”

He intended to nod, or hum some affirmative response, but the archived file had him perplexed and his inclination to answer her got lost somewhere between his brain and any part of him that might say “Yes, I’m going to be here for a bit.”

“Just like any other bloke,” Martha said, hopping off the jump seat, her boots loud on the grating. “Get something good on the telly, or some online chat room, and everything else disappears. I’ll be… somewhere.” Then she left him alone, and for a brief moment the Doctor felt guilty for his relief.

He used to love it when Rose sat with him and talked while he worked. Or just sat silently and watched him. He liked the feeling of having her near him, and enjoyed the subtle electricity in the air when she was there. But Martha… he knew that standing aside and watching him live a life as a human had been a difficult thing to ask of her. And he’d thanked her for it all. But, at times, he had to fight the urge to tell her to leave him be.

But then, he’d be left with the silence. And sometimes the silence was worse than the idle conversation that went nowhere.

The relay diagnostic wavered on the screen and halted for several seconds before continuing. “What is that,” he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the keyboard interface to try and access the file. Maybe if he could open it, he could figure out why it was stopping things up.

A cold rush of panic skittered over his senses, and his fingers paused on the keyboard. He looked up at the engine pistons, squinting. “What? What’s the matter with you?”

Leave it alone.

“Why?”

Please. Pain.

“Who… you? Is this hurting you?”

Please.

If the TARDIS’ plea had been meant to make him ignore the troublesome file, it accomplished the opposite. Even with the TARDIS nudging him to stop, he dug and poked, attempting access to the archive through several different programs – from data language translators to text display modes. Nothing would open the file. If it was bothering her systems, he intended to get it out.

He jabbed in another set of commands, trying a data recovery and recording program. The monitor fuzzed, like snow on an old Earth television, and he watched – hoping he’d found the right approach.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for you, Doctor.”

He heard her voice before the image cleared, and both hearts seized in his chest. Immediately, his throat constricted and he curled his fingers around the edge of the monitor.

“Rose…”

The image sharpened, the snow clearing, and there she was. He recognized the room she stood in as the music conservatory on the TARDIS, but where she was mattered far less than that she was there.

She took his breath away.

Rose wore a shimmering, silver-sequined evening gown that clung to her curves and wrapped around her bodice to accentuate her breasts and the indent of her waist, a single thin strap tied from the valley of her breasts around her neck. Her blonde hair was parted on the left, and fell in smooth waves around her face to brush her bare shoulders. Crimson lipstick painted her lips, a sharp but appealing contrast to her ‘yellow and pink’ paleness.

A 1940’s-style microphone stood on a stand in front of her and she laid her hand over the top, curling her crimson-tipped fingers around it. Looking ahead, she met his gaze through time.

She cleared her throat and licked her lips. “I don’t know why I can’t do this in front of you, but I want to do this because you asked.”

There were only a few couples on parquet dance floor, and as the band played a slow dance song, the Doctor held Rose’s hand above her head and turned her slowly before circling her waist with his arm and pulling her close. He pressed the hand he held to his chest, covering it with his own as they swayed.

“You’re better at this than you used to be,” she said with a small smirk.

“I’m better at a lost of things than I used to be.”

Rose groaned. “You wish.”

The music slowed, and the Doctor pressed his hand into the small of her back to bring her flush against him and when she settled into his hold, he slid his hand down to just follow the curve of her bottom.

Rose tipped her head back, her cheeks slightly flushed, a sensual smile that begged to be kissed on her lips. “Overall, it’s been a rather uneventful evening,” she said. “No running. A serious lack of running.”

The Doctor looked out across the room, smiling before meeting her eyes. “It’s not always about running. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying. Speaking of which... I would very much enjoy hearing you sing.”

She didn’t say anything, just looking up at him, but the color in her cheeks deepened.

“On Gallifrey, we’re raised to have a deep love of music in all forms. But, my favorite music is the voice… it’s individual and imperfect, and yet the most beautiful thing in the world.” The music continued, but their dancing stopped so the Doctor could lay his hands on her cheeks. Rose slid her arms around his waist. “You must be so beautiful when you sing.”

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go of the grip he hand on the console, leaning forward to watch the screen. Rose looked away from the recording device, curling a bit of hair behind her ear, and he silently begged her to look back so he could see her eyes. The same beautiful blossom of color that had tinted her cheeks at Shireen’s wedding darkened her cheeks in the recording.

“Oh, you beautiful girl,” he said softly to the empty console room.

She raised her head again, and curled both hands around the old microphone. Rose laughed softly and shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Faced robots and monsters and the end of the world…” She trailed off and seemed to gather herself, switching topics as she smoothed her hand over her dress. “Figured if I was going to do it, I’d really do it all out. Seems crazy now.”

He shook her head, even though he knew she’d never know.

“I’ll give this to you someday. I promise.”

Rose looked around, and seemed to find what she wanted on a small stand she had set up near the microphone. She raised a control device and pointed it to the ceiling, and the soft, brassy sound of a trumpet began to play a soulful, jazzy melody with a piano accompaniment.

“I hope you know why I chose this song,” she said over the music. “I mean it all, but there’s one line that…” She huffed, and he saw a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “It’s for you.”

As the trumpet and bras played with the piano, Rose closed her eyes with her head tilted to the side as she listened.

Then she began to sing.

And the Doctor watched through the burn of tears.

“I’ve been so many places in my life and time.” The piano slid through her singing with ease, and she whispered into the microphone “Because of you, Doctor.” Her body swayed softly, and she opened her eyes again – looking right at him. “I’ve sung a lot of songs, I’ve made some bad, bad rhymes. I’ve acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching… But, we’re alone now. And I’m singing this song for you.”

Without taking his eyes from the monitor, the Doctor reached out and flipped a switch on the console, and in a burst of sound, the music reverberated around him through the TARDIS harmonics – surrounding him, thrumming through him… filling him.

“I know your image of me is what I hope to be. I’ve treated you unkindly, but Doctor, can’t you see? There’s no one more important to me! So, Doctor, can’t you please see through me? Because we’re alone now and I’m singing this song for you.

Her singing voice was the most powerful, most soul-inspiring sound he had ever heard. Not even the Singing Towers on Darillium could come close, and he had once said they were the most beautiful sound in all the universe.

“You taught me precious secrets, the truth – withholding nothing. You came out front when I was hiding. But now I’m so much better, so if my words don’t come together, listen to the melody because my love is there in hiding.”

A trumpet overtook the music, and as it played a worbling rift, Rose stepped back from the microphone with one hand still resting on it, and looked down as she turned partially away. He saw more of her frame, and the way the dress flowed from her hips into a shimmering cascade of sequins and silk. Her hair fell forward across her cheek, and he couldn’t stop himself from laying his fingertip on the monitor screen, his hand trembling as she curled the bit behind her ear. The trumpet eased away, and she came back to the microphone, curling her lips between her teeth before looking at him again.

“Listen,” she said softly before singing again.

“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time.” She tipped her head back so her voice filled the console room, her arms spread out from her body. The reverberation skimmed over him, and the Doctor choked on the lump caught in his throat. “I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.

“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

She repeated the words, letting her voice drop to a low, huskiness that tingled on his skin. The music died away, and her eyes closed until the notes finished. Finally, with his chest aching, the Doctor blinked against the hot tears.

Rose opened her eyes again, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I can’t seem to say it otherwise, Doctor. So, maybe when you hear this… you’ll know.” Then she shook her head, snatching up the remote where she had returned it. “I’m nutters. I’m going to erase this just as soon as I figure out how.”

With that, she pointed the remote to the camera and jabbed at it several times before the screen went black.

His body shook, and he gripped the console to stay on his feet. The Doctor dropped his head, resting his brow against the monitor as he sucked in sharp breaths. It hurt, oh, how it hurt to see her face and hear her voice. But, it was a pain he wanted because he’d rather have it than have nothing.

So sorry.

“No, no… “ he managed to choke out. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”

“Who was that singin’?” he heard from behind him as Martha jogged into the console room. “It was echoing through the entire TARDIS.”

He couldn’t speak yet, his hands aching from the grip he held on the console edge. The Doctor shifted just enough to give Martha his back, begging for the few precious moments he needed to reign it all in.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize I had engaged the harmonics throughout the ship.” He was proud of the strength in his voice, how it only wavered slightly and only sounded slightly worn.

“No, it’s okay. It was beautiful.”

He finally straightened, releasing the console to run his hand over his face and wipe away any trace of the tide of emotion that he hadn’t been able to hold back. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“So, who was it?”

“Rose,” he said with more force than he intended, and immediately swallowed. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stepped back from the console and the now-black screen. He could almost still hear the echo of trumpets and piano and Rose’s powerful voice. “It was Rose.”

Before Martha could ask any more questions, and before he lost the tight rein of control he’s maintained for so many, many months, the Doctor turned on the balls of his feet and left the console room. He stumbled into their bedroom – a room he had only entered but hadn’t slept in since he lost her. The bed was far too big and far too empty. The Doctor nearly collapsed before he reached the foot of the bed, and sank heavily onto the mattress, holding his head in his hands.

His ship knew what he needed, even though she had hidden the recording from him to protect him from the pain. Now that he felt it – now that he’d heard the song – he wanted more. Within moments, the strain of trumpets and piano filled the room. This time, it was for him only.

He closed his eyes and listened.

“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time. I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.

“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

Knock Knock Anybody home?

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 22:27:06 GMT

So, I don't know who's paying attention... but I have a dilemma today.

I've been trying to find a bead on the next story in the Unseen and In Between series. The plan is/was for a single TOME of a story to cover series 3 and 4 up through my interpretation of Journey's End (cuz, as I said - that is SO not the way my story is going to happen). However, in the process of trying to find that path - I was pushed by my muse to write a single scene.

In the timeline of the series, it'd be late Series 3... and it could work either as part of the entire series, or it could just be a glimpse... a moment... a very poignant event for the Doctor.

I'm torn...

I'm not sure I'm asking for the answer... just thought I'd vent alittle.

Just as a hint... the scene relates back to something in the story Driving Lessons.

So... just contemplating my next move. Although, the Doctor Who FIc muse seems to have come back, so maybe I'll be whipping out the whole darn thing in a week. Who knows?

P.S... like my new mood theme? I love it.

A curiosity question

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 00:36:57 GMT

For those of you who have been reading The Unseen and In Between series and are up to date, you know about the revelation at the end of Unsaid.

If you don't... READ NO FURTHER!!!!!

For those that have... step behind the cut. I have a curiosity question to pose.

I'm working out in my head the details and ins and outs for the continuation of this series through Journey's End. It's not going to be an easy fic to write... long and drawn out, I'm sure. But sooooo worth it in the end.

One thing that is positive... by the end of it all, the Doctor and Rose will be parents.

Question is this...

Do you think they should have a boy or a girl? No multiples... I don't want to go down a 'twins' route. That much I'm sure. Here is your assignment... should you choose to accept it. What do you think? Should they be gifted with a little Prince or Princess?

I want you to tell me your opinion... catch is... you have to tell me WHY you say boy or girl. No one shot answers. Help me decide.

Gail

Unsaid (1/1) R

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 05:09:48 GMT

Title: Unsaid

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: During and after Doomsday

Genre: ANGST – Tissue Warning may be appropriate.

Rating: Adult for one bit.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: Say the things you want to say while you can.

Author’s Note: I’ve been waiting to write Doomsday and everything there after in The Unseen and In Between series until after watching the end of Series 4. And all I’m going to say on the subject is this… the final scene in Journey’s End is soooooooo not how this series is going down. I don’t know when I’ll finish the next bit – but it might be a long time coming because a lot has to be covered, and I don’t want to post until I’m done to make sure all the parts are in order.

Oh… and my sincere apologies. Please don’t hunt me down and hurt me when you finish this fic. Otherwise, I won’t be able to write the conclusion. Keep that in mind.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“I made my choice a long time ago, and I’m never going to leave you.”

There were very few times in nine hundred plus years that the Doctor had been rendered unable to speak, unable to respond to whatever might be said or might happen with a glib or clever remark. But, to face Rose Tyler, and hear her say that she would give up everything… for him… to be with him… he was lost.

“So, what can I do to help?”

She should have just gone… should have been safe. And part of him raged at the idea that she would risk her life for him.

Systems rebooted. Open access.

“Those coordinates over there. Set them all to six.”

She moved past him, and he heard her release a soft, shuttered breath.

“And hurry up!” he snapped.

She probably didn’t know he watched her as she moved to the console he’d indicated. Didn’t know he saw the shake of her hands as she removed the dimension-jumping device, probably taking it off to make sure he didn’t try to send her back again. Her eyes shifted to look at him, he felt her gaze linger only momentarily on his back.

He bent over the keys of another terminal, the codes already running like a marquis in his head, but his fingers didn’t move. He heard the clicking of her nails on the key, and curled his fingers, reaching out mentally to gently feel her.

Fear. Panic. Sorrow. They all laced with her determination. And beneath it… pushing through all the individual thoughts and feelings… was doubt.

He left the terminal, crossing to her as she bent over the desk, not looking up when he stood directly beside her. Her fingers moved quickly, doing exactly what he asked without needing to be shown how.

“I’m almost done.”

“Rose.” She continued to work, doing just what he’d said to do. He waited until he saw her enter the last coordinate before saying her name again. “Rose.”

“I’m done,” she said quickly. “What do you need next?”

He laid his hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking the soft knit. “I need you to look at me.”

She straightened, and as she moved to look up at him, he laid his other hand against her cheek and turned her face to him, kissing her. Rose gasped softly against his mouth, but didn’t hesitate to lean into him and part her lips for him. Her hand slid over his, holding it in place against her cheek.

The Doctor kissed her slowly, even though the thundering rhythm of warning thumped in the back of his mind. Hurry! Hurry! No time!

Neither wanted to just end the kiss, the long, deep contact punctuated with several shorter kisses as each returned again for just a little more. He rested his forehead against hers, his palm still on her cheek as their breath mingled. The Doctor inhaled, letting her scent fill his senses.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have…” He swallowed, keeping his eyes closed because he didn’t want to pull away from her. “You shouldn’t have come back. You need to be safe.”

Her fingertips stroked his cheek, her thumb across his lip, and he finally opened his eyes and shifted back enough to focus on her features. “I need to be with you.”

“Your mother—“

She laid two fingers on his lips. “Mum will be fine. And I’ve heard you say impossible enough times to hold hope.”

She stood up on her toes and kissed him even as the computer twittered that it required their attention. Her fingers stroked over his ear and along his cheek, urging him closer. Her mental touch reached out to him just as her hands did, and he felt in the contact everything that neither needed to say.

“Let’s finish this up, yeah?” Her voice was rough, promising.

“Yeah.” He smiled and kissed her once again – quick and short – before returning to his terminal.

He no sooner finished updating the system when Rose called his name. “We’ve got Cybermen on the way up.”

In minutes… they would all be in hell.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Doctor! Bring me back! Bring me back!

Through the wall, her grief came in waves despite the quickly forming seal.

Rose.

He had always known it would hurt when she left him, and had braced himself against it earlier when he sent her away. But, to have her ripped from him was something so different and so much more painful.

Rose, you’ll be with me forever.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

London was in chaos in the wake of Canary Wharf. People wandered the street, searching for loved ones that might still be alive. The cries of some woman that the Doctor couldn’t see carried through the Powell Estate apartments, wailing and lamenting for someone named Eddie.

Three days before, he would have looked out over the destruction and whisper a heartfelt “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”. He would have meant it. Three days ago.

Today… there was nothing.

He sat at the small table in the Tyler flat, staring at the plastic film wrapped plate of biscuits Jackie had sealed before they left for the TARDIS what seemed a lifetime ago. They hadn’t been especially good biscuits, but to appease Jackie and make Rose smile, he’d eaten them with his tea.

They would be stale now, wrapped or not.

Beside the plate was the Bezoolium bauble they had bought for Jackie in that little market where he went looking for mercury filters. He laid his hand over it, and the trinket was cold. It would rain soon.

He lifted his hand, the trinket held in the cup of his palm, and slammed it down onto the wooden surface. It cracked and broke into three pieces.

Loud footsteps approached the open flat door and three young men rumbled in, oblivious to the pain and destruction that had rampaged the city. They laughed and shoved each other until one of them saw him, and they stopped.

He lifted his head, leveling his gaze on them. He knew what they saw… and he did nothing to temper the rage. “Get out.”

One of them swaggered forward, a typical punk with his hood pulled up over his head and a cocky grin on his face. The Doctor didn’t even give him the chance to say anything. He leaped to his feet and took two steps, that was all.

“Get. Out!”

They stumbled over each other to escape the flat, leaving him standing in hall entrance, and he had to reach for the wall to keep on his feet. Lack of food… lack of sleep… lack of… Rose… all had him drained.

Leaning against the wall, he saw the open door to Jackie’s bedroom, and across the hall, Rose’s bedroom where she hadn’t slept in months. Not since the Christmas he’d regenerated. Since then, whenever they were in this flat, she had come to him and slept in their bed.

He drew a shaky breath, swallowing hard.

Without making the conscious decision to do so, and without remembering the steps it took to get him there, the Doctor stood in Rose’s bedroom. The bed was made — bright pink blankets and fluffy pillows — and clutter and bits of her past were stacked on the bookshelves. There were photographs of Rose with Mickey and Shireen, and other people he had no names for. It all seemed so out of place… none of it belonged to her anymore.

He took two steps backward before turning and crossing the hall to Jackie’s bedroom. This is where they’d laid him out when he couldn’t complete his regeneration. He’d recovered in this bed, and yet he had little to no memory of it. The bed was unmade and clothing scattered the floor, and the Doctor knew where Rose got her sloppiness.

He loved her sloppiness.

A small bookshelf sat against the wall at the end of the bed and the Doctor sat on the gaudy print duvet, staring at the contents. There were at least a dozen photo albums stacked against each other. One caught his eye first, a pink and ruffled concoction that he pulled free from the others. The album had obviously been hand decorated with frills and strings of fake pearls with a picture in the center of the cover with a little bald infant wearing a pink sleeper. Embroidered into the puffy cover was the name Rose Marion Tyler.

The Doctor opened the book, the binding creaking, and looked at each picture in great detail. There were pictures of a much younger Jackie, and a Pete Tyler with ginger hair, holding Rose… giving Rose a bath… just playing with Rose. There were pictures of Rose alone and Rose with stuffed animals. Eventually, the pictures with Pete stopped and the Doctor knew he was gone by then.

Keeping the book in his lap, he reached for the next one. He spent the next three hours studying the picture chronicles of Rose's life before she took his hand and went off to see the universe. He smiled at a picture from Christmas 1999, with Rose standing beside the red bicycle he had left for her. She beamed, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed from the cold, sitting astride the bike.

Even then, the TARDIS had been nudging them together. Somehow, she knew what Rose would bring into his life. And how she would save him. Redeem him. Make him better.

Finally, only one album remained. The stack in his lap was cumbersome now, and he set the books on the floor between his feet, taking the final book of memories from the shelf. This album was simple, with no frills or decorations, and the way the pages lay close together, he knew it wasn't full. The first picture caught him completely by surprise, which wasn't something he often admitted to.

Cardiff. He knew exactly where the picture had been taken. Outside that little restaurant overlooking the water where he had taken Rose and Jack, and Mickey had come along. He wondered... Mickey had to have taken the picture. No one else would have, and no one else would have given it to Jackie. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in all actuality it had been just about a year, maybe a year and a half - linearly.

They stood outside the restaurant, probably waiting to go in. Jack must have seen the camera, because he was hamming it up with his smile that had seduced sentient beings throughout space and time. But, the Doctor hadn't been paying attention... nor had Rose. Perhaps if they had, they may have tried to shield their expressions more. Seeing himself now... even with the short cropped hair, big ears and hesitant grin... he saw in his eyes that had been blue then the truth of the depth and volume of what he felt for Rose.

He hand her hand, standing close enough to her that their linked fingers were hidden between their bodies, only seen if you looked closely. And she looked up at him, the breeze blowing bits of blonde hair across her cheeks, her lips bowed in a smile that she reserved only for him. With an almost painful flash, he remembered...

"You're going to get us in trouble, you keep lookin' at me that way."

"What way is that, Rose?"

She leaned closer so that her words carried on the breeze between them and someone would have to be standing just as close to know what she said. Her eyes drifted down to focus on his mouth, her tongue teasing the inside of her own lip before she spoke. The action mesmerized him, and he slid a glance sideways to make sure Jack and Mickey The Idiot hadn't turned their attention away from their goofing. Jack was playing the dandy pin up for Mickey’s camera.

"Like you want me," Rose said in a rough whisper that made his senses crackle.

He leaned closer, turning his head so it might look like he was looking out over the water. “I do want you." The Doctor looked back into her face, wanting to see the change in her eyes and the flush as it bloomed in her cheeks. With a perfectly natural expression, he said slowly and with the sole intent to make her heart beat faster. "I want to be inside you, Rose." Her breath hitched softly, and that beautiful tip of her tongue ran along her lips that had been dried by the breeze. But he wasn't done yet. He smiled casually, as if whatever he had to say was nothing important... inconsequential. "I want to feel your fantastic breasts bounce against my chest as I move inside you. I want your legs wrapped around me. I want your nails digging into my back."

Her eyes fluttered shut and she released a slow, metered breath. "Not. Fair."

The Doctor released her hand and slid his palm around her hips, over her bottom, to the high hem of her short skirt. He curled his hand around the back of her thigh and moved his palm higher until his thumb brushed her bottom. He pulled her tighter against him, and she gasped softly.

“Can you tell how much I want you, Rose?”

"Hey, no whispering you two," Jack declared loudly, clamping a hand down on the Doctor's shoulder.

The Doctor held her gaze for four whole heartbeats before looking away. "Our table ready yet. I'm famished."

The Doctor closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Different face. Different body. But, the him of then and the him of now both reacted the same way to Rose... hot and hard and needy. Only now, there was no Rose.

And there would be no relief.

He forced himself to turn the page, and realized the intent of this album. It was Jackie's way of holding on to Rose in any way she could. That was the only picture of Rose with his former face, probably because Jackie didn't like him much then. Well, like had been a strong word even when she'd accepted him. More like she 'hated him a little less' in his newer form.

There were pictures from the previous Christmas, once he'd recovered from his botched regeneration. These seemed to be the most copious, probably because humans had a tendency to go shutter-happy around holidays. Jackie had taken a ridiculous picture of him wearing a paper crown with his specs on. He looked… he wanted to say he looked like a fool. But, he just looked happy.

In any picture that Rose knew her mother had the camera, her smile was bright and she was having fun. But, Jackie managed to catch one moment where Rose was off guard… and her eyes were on him. He had hoped then that she would accept his new face, his new body, but the trepidation in her eyes in that one moment showed how much she hadn’t.

In this body, they’d spent just about as much time ‘apart’ although living together in the TARDIS as they had spent together again. So much time wasted.

There were more pictures of random visits. And in each one, she managed to capture a moment between them that was free for all to see, yet private at the same time.

He wondered if everyone saw what he saw when he looked at them together.

When the pictures became hard to see, he realized that the sun had set and the flat was in darkness. He stood, his tired body protesting against the simple action. He would take the TARDIS into the Vortex and float, regaining his strength. But, there was still more to be done. He stepped, and his foot toppled the pile of albums and he let them slide across the floor.

The only light in the flat was the light streaming in from the street where power had been restored. Another 24 hours and the city would be under control again and the task of documenting the dead would begin. He’d already left the names of Jackie and Rose Tyler to be recorded as two who were lost.

Lost.

But not dead.

He made it as far as the hall before the turned and crossed the bedroom in three long strides, scooping up the albums.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Hurry! Hurry! The star is dying!

The Doctor ignored the TARDIS’ urgent whispers in his head. He knew time was running out, and he knew what was at stake. The TARDIS let him see her, but he wanted more than anything to feel her. To touch her hair and wipe the tears from her cheeks. To hold her.

“You’re dead. Officially. Back home. So many people died that day and you’d gone missing. You’re on a list of the dead.”

Watching her cry ate away at something so deep inside him, he’d forgot it existed. But then again, Rose had reminded him of a very many things deep inside that he’d forgotten. Sometimes deliberately.

“Here you are. Living a life day after day. The one adventure I can never have.”

He couldn’t feel her sadness now. The rift was too great, too much distance between them. But, he saw the loss and felt it for her.

“Am I ever going to see you again?”

“You can’t.” He wouldn’t say it was impossible. She’d told him she didn’t believe in impossible. And this… this was impossible.

“What’re you going to do?”

He looked away for just a moment, but couldn’t keep his eyes from her. He needed to make the image of her last for the next few hundred years. “Oh, I’ve got the TARDIS. Same old life. Last of the Time Lords.”

“On your own?”

He could only nod. On his own meant so much more now. Sounded so much more hollow. “It would be impossible to replace you, Rose. Not in the TARDIS. Not in any way.”

She brushed her hair from her face, the long bits caught in the wind. Rose took a step closer to him, so close that if he had been there, her body would have brushed his and he ached at the realization that he would never feel her again.

“I love you, Doctor. I can’t —“ She choked, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips before swallowing, looking up at him. “I can’t say good-bye. I can’t.”

“Then we won’t.”

She nodded, accepting his most basic of solutions. The wind over the sand dried her tears, and he knew it had to be cold. He wanted so much to take her hands and slide them inside his coat pockets to warm them. He always carried an extra pair of gloves for Rose, because she never remembered to dress properly. Her hands got so cold, even to him.

“I love you,” she said again, her words nearly lost on the wind.

The Doctor tamped down hard against the ache in his chest. “Rose Tyler—“

The connection snapped shut.

“I love you.”

The TARDIS engines churned, fighting to regain the connection for him. But, he knew it was useless. In a twin heartbeat, he crumbled. He gripped the edge of the console as his legs gave way and he landed hard on his knees, the grating digging into his knees through his trousers.

He folded beneath the weight of existence, dropping his head with his hands clenched in his lap as he sat back on his ankles. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even suck in enough air to release the burning sob in his chest.

The touch was a whisper, nothing more than a gentle breeze, but it made him choke and raise his head, focusing through the hot tears.

It had been eight hundred and ninety-four years since he’d seen her face, and yet he remembered her so clearly now. Long, blonde ringlets hung around her shoulders — so ironic that she would be blonde — and eyes impossibly blue. As blue as the TARDIS itself. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything, just choked and gasped for air.

The little girl laid her palms against his cheeks, her cherubic face marred by the frown that turned down her lips and the tears that tracked down her cheeks. The touch wasn’t solid, wasn’t real, but he felt the essence of its comfort.

“Cusa Ju Bibilia’a,” she said softly, her chin trembling. “We have lost our Forever Rose.”

He could only nod, clenching his hands into fists.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“There’s five of us now. Mum. Dad. Mickey. And the baby.”

“You’re not…”

“No. It’s Mum. She’s three months gone. More Tylers on the way.”

When Rose stood on the beach in Norway and told the Doctor she wasn’t carrying his child, she hadn’t lied. She just hadn’t realized. Hadn’t known.

Living in the TARDIS made something as mundane as a 28-day cycle unimportant. After more than two years with him, she’d stopped trying to calculate such things. And after coming to this alternate and wrong world, she hadn’t thought about it until her mother announced her own pregnancy.

Even then, she’d passed it off as nothing because living in the TARDIS had set her system off kilter. Or maybe it was the stress of losing him and finding herself trapped in this world where Rose Tyler didn’t exist.

Besides… he’d said… he’d told her…

“Doctor… “ She swallowed hard, her eyes burning because she’d forgotten to blink. Blindly, she found his hand and gripped it in both hers, trying desperately to temper her emotions but finding it nearly impossible when he looked at her with so much worry and concern so evident on his face. She tried again, hoping her voice would stay with her long enough. “Doctor… can you and I… could we… could we have a baby?”

His gaze slid away almost immediately. “No.”

“Why not? How do you —”

He raised his head, and the cold firmness of his eyes stopped her. He swallowed, his jaw working slightly before he said, “I know.”

Rose nodded, but couldn’t hold back the choking sob that exploded in her chest. She just kept nodded, sucking in air, blinking the tears down her cheeks. He touched her face, stroked her cheeks, and pulled her against him, wrapping her hard in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.“

“I do,” he whispered in her ear. He shushed softly in her ear, his hand stroking over her hair as they rocked each other in the dim hall of their TARDIS.

Seven months she’d been without him. Seven months that this possibility hadn’t even dawned on her. Perhaps it was because he told her it never could. Perhaps because the idea of having his child here – where their baby would belong no more than she did – was terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time.

She stared at the white plastic stick in her hand, staring at the undeniable ‘plus’ sign. Then at the half-dozen other similar tests — all different brands and types — lined up along the lavatory counter. Every one said the same thing.

Rose stood and faced herself in the mirror. She turned sideways and pulled up her pyjama top, pushing the elastic waistband of the bottoms down her hips.

There was only the slightest change. She remembered complaining to her mother the week before that her favorite denims didn’t fit quite right, and Mickey’d made a comment about laying off the chips. Rose slid her hand over her stomach, remembering…

"Having me was difficult for her." He ticked his head to the side before diverting his eyes away. "Probably one of the reasons Time Lords were discouraged from procreating, especially outside of Gallifrey. My mother conceived — quite unexpectedly, as you might imagine — but, the genetic coding for a Time Lord is pre-set for a very strictly monitored and guided growth pattern."

"Which means what, exactly?"

He came back across the room and dropped onto the bed with a hop, making the mattress bounce and Rose squeak as she tried to keep from toppling onto the floor. The Doctor leaned back, extending his legs with his ankles crossed, supporting his weight on his bent elbows. "In any species that procreates naturally, it's all done automatically. Zygotes divide into blastomeres. The blastocyst attaches to the endometrium.” Rose pulled a face, grimacing. “But, when a Time Lord is Loomed, every stage of development is initiated by the nursery guardians. Nothing happens naturally."

"But, it did... obviously."

"Well, yeah... but not like anything you'd call normal. A human pregnancy is approximately nine months. In comparison, a loomed child remains in the Loom for--" He tipped his head back and forth, his lower lip protruding as he ran calculations in his head. "--the equivalent of three and a half years. Course, we also come out of the Loom with full cognitive, linguistic and motor skills developed."

Rose gasped. "Good God, please tell me your mother wasn't pregnant for over three years."

"Nah. Just two."

"What?"

He shifted his weight onto one elbow and wagging a finger at her with the other hand. "No elephant jokes."

"You're telling me your mother was pregnant for two years."

He hummed an affirmative, nodding his head. "Mind you, even then, not like a human pregnancy. I was on slow cook." Rose groaned, and he grinned. "My father told me years later that he thought it was because the Time Lord DNA was dominant. Takes longer for a Time Lord to develop because of the Regenerative DNA coding and whatnot. Her human body didn't quite know how to handle it. Not that it was a particularly hard pregnancy, by what I hear. My father said you couldn't even tell for a good ten or twelve months."

“So, basically…” she said to the empty room. “I haven’t a clue when you’re coming out, little one. But I promise you this…” She met her own gaze in the mirror. “I’m going to do everything in my power — even if it means collapsing two universes — to get us back to your dad.”

She laid her palm against her waist, pressing slightly to test for any change she might feel. The only difference was the slightest swell. Rose blinked hot tears, sniffing loudly.

“I promise.”

20 Question Meme

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 21:57:37 GMT

I'm not going to actually tag anyone... no pressure that way. Just answer if you want to. A little fun, that's all.

1. How has LJ changed your life?
Well, it has let me meet a great bunch of people who love the Doctor and Rose as much as I do. Which is good. However, it has also managed to snag away some of my precious and hard to capture novel-writing time. Oh, well.

2. What do you do before bedtime?
I'm usually writing something.

3. What are you doing this weekend?
I don't know for sure. This is my first full weekend being a New England Transplant in Southern California. I'm wingin' it.

4. What is the city of your dreams and why?
I'd love to visit Edinburgh, Scotland. I have a feeling I just spelled that wrong, but I don't want to go look it up. :-) I am Irish by descent, but there is just something beautiful about Scotland (And NO, I am NOT just saying that because David Tennant is a Scot. That has absolutely Nothing to do with it!)

5. Are you an introvert or extrovert?
If I had to choose between the two, I'd say extrovert. Though, depending on the situation, I can be an introvert, too.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Giving a gift like love should be an easy thing. But, to receive that gift - freely and without reservation - that truly is a blessing.

7. Do you trust easily?
FAR too easily.

8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Well, since I don't secretly like anyone and have been with my husband for 17 years... I'm going to pass on this based purely on a lack of ability to answer.

9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
I don't know if 'unhappy' is the right word. Stressed... yeah... BIG time. We're in the process of moving from the East Coast to the West Coast - BIG time stressor.

10. What is your best quality?
I love with all of me. Whether it's my husband, my children, or my closest friends. You get all of me.

11. Is being tagged fun?
No. Too much pressure. That's why I never tag anyone.

12. How do you see yourself?
I'd rather not answer.

13. Who are currently the most important people to you?
My husband, my children, my father, my in-laws... oh, and my BFF Jenifer, who is putting a temporary roof over my head!

14. What kind of person do you think the person from whom you picked up the meme is?
Creative.

15. What would you do if you won the lottery?
Buy a home free and clear. Doesn't have to be a mansion - just a home that meets our needs. Make sure my kids' college educations are paid for. Hire a contractor to refurbish my father's old farm house. Take care of my closest family. Start a business.

15A. Would you rather be in a happy marriage and poor or a bad marriage and rich?
Happy and Poor.

16. How many children do you want to have, if any?
Well... I have two, and that's all I'm getting. I always wanted four, but the cards weren't in it. I think the whole "Have another baby and die" thing put a damper on it.

17. What question do you want to know the answer to?
Will I ever make enough writing novels to JUST write novels?

18. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
Well, I would hope that I could keep my attention on one person long enough that I wouldn't fall in love with two. But... if I found myself in such a scenario... I'd be with the one who made me laugh - ALOT.

19. Would you have 100% safe sex with a stranger for $10,000,000?
No. 'Nuff said.

20. What were your parents going to name you if you'd been born the opposite gender? To be honest, I haven't a clue.

Writer's Block: Becoming a TV Character

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 22:37:11 GMT

If you could be any character from any TV show, who would you be and why?

Submitted By mchun

View 500 Answers

I would be the next companion for Doctor Who. Why? Cuz I could spend days and nights for months out of the year with the ever-delicious and lickable David Tennant. LOL

For those wondering and paying attention...

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 02:22:34 GMT

For anyone who might be wondering about the Unseen and In Between series... I will be continuing it.

Part of me was curious how Russell T. would handle the 'reunion'... and I have to say We are not amused. Have faith... I will fix this!!

I'm currently working on my take on Doomsday, and as much as I wish everything could be fine and rosey now... I think some time apart will make a reunion all that sweeter. But, you have my word... there will be a reunion, and it won't be with a half-human Doctor, or an alt!Doctor or whatever you want to call him... it will be our Doctor and our Rose. :-)

Just give me some time. I'm actually moving at the end of this week... at least in part... so things are hectic. But, it will come.

Canon, Fanon and Hints - Fathers and Sons - The Doctor's Past

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 01:07:57 GMT

I thought people might be interested in knowing all the details behind the 'past' I created for the Doctor. Such as just how much of it really is canon, how much of it is a 'stretch' of canon, and how much is out and out made up.

So, the following post provides information on each major 'revelation' the Doctor makes in Fathers and Sons, where I got it (canon or fanon), and where along the way I may have dropped hints toward the final answers.

Do not read this post unless you have read all the Everything Rose Wanted to Know About Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn't Afraid to Ask Lessons, or the answers to all the questions in Fathers and Sons. Unless of course, you don't mind being spoiled.

Lessons One through Six:

Lessons One and Two
Lessons Three and Four
Lesson Five
Lesson Six

Fathers and Sons

Hints and Facts leading to the revelations in Fathers and Sons

Revelation: The Doctor is half human. His father was a Time Lord who accepted the punishment of losing his right to be a Time Lord to raise his children with his human lover.

Canon:

1. The Doctor is half Human (Per Movie)
2. The Doctor has a brother (Smith and Jones)

Fanon:

1. The Doctor’s father’s name was Marnal. His mother… Ann.
2. The Doctor was born in the TARDIS… His TARDIS.
3. Marnal hid the Doctor and his mother for the first few years of the Doctor’s life, never returning to Gallifrey – and thus, never revealing the truth of his son.
4. Once the Time Lord Council learned of Marnal’s ‘indiscretion’, his TARDIS was taken away and left to die, his ability to regenerate was suppressed and he was ‘forced’ to live as a normal Gallifreyan with his lover and children. He was never allowed to marry her.
5. The TARDIS was akin to the Doctor’s nanny. She saw his birth, she watched him grown and learn, she looked out for him, took care of him, and taught him. All the while he just thought she was his imaginary friend It’s why she loves him so much.

Hints dropped:

Two Steps Forward, One Back

The girl stood up on the bed, the mattress bouncing a little under her slight weight. Slowly she turned in a circle, in a singsong voice "All the skies, all the stars, all the was places and all the will be places... He plays. He seeks and finds. He worships beauty and wonder." The girl dropped to her knees beside Rose, her face serious again, her tiny brow pulled low in a frown. "He runs, Precious Rose. He runs and runs and runs so fast, but he is lost."

Two Steps Forward, One Back

“It means Beloved.” His voice was rough when he explained. “It’s the most precious name you can give another.”

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson One

He sighed heavily. "And once... just once... a Time Lord was effectively stripped of his..." He tipped his chin and puffed his cheeks. "Time Lordiness. His TARDIS was decommissioned, his remaining ability to regenerate suppressed, and he was forced to remain on Gallifrey to face --" He winced this time, because what he had to say, he'd heard so many times. "-- the product of his indiscretion."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson One

“It’s not a rule, Rose. It just… is.” He took another step. “Well, okay. There are rules, or were, but that is more about inter-species relations…” He immediately cursed his propensity to ramble, because if she was paying attention at all — and he was quite sure she was — she caught it.

“Humans?”

"Any... species... actually."

She made a frustrated sound and pressed her hand to her forehead, turning partially away.

"Rose, honestly, if you look on Xenophobia in the Encyclopedia Galactica, there will be a huge picture of the entire Time Lord Council, every cardinal in full robes and headdresses. They practically put the people of Krickett to shame." She pulled a 'what?' face and he waved it off. "Nevermind. The point is, they wanted Time Lords to be so separate from everyone else, they even frowned on intimate relations between Time Lords and Gallifrey citizens."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Five

The yarn was soft. She rubbed it against her cheek, and inhaled the delicate scent of clean soap that clung to the threads. There was a hint of something else, a floral and citrus mingling like a light perfume. She hadn't seen the blanket before, and with her eyes half-closed in sleep, she studied it. It was handmade, the stitches just uneven enough so she knew no machine made it, and it probably wasn't a creation of the TARDIS'. The yarns were creamy, light blues and a deep, rich blue like the TARDIS, but faded with age.

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Five

The idea of a sentient transdimensional time traveling police public call box being good at telling bedtime stories made Rose giggle. Which made the little girl giggle. And the laugh was beautiful, like tinkling bells and starsong. The little girl hopped down again, her feet making no noise as she ran across the library, her blonde hair streaming behind her. Today her dress was blue, but pale to the point of almost being white. She ran to the corner of the library, and Rose expected her to take a book from one of the shelves. But instead, she reached over her head and turned the knob of a door that blended so well into the shelves of books Rose hadn't ever seen it before. Of course, it might not have been there since the TARDIS had a way of changing on a whim if she so chose.

The door squeaked open as if the hinges hadn't moved in a very long time, and the girl disappeared into the dark room beyond. Rose squinted, trying to see what was beyond the doorway, but all she saw was blackness and shadows. The little girl appeared again, shutting the door behind her.

Once again perched beside Rose, the child TARDIS opened the antique-looking storybook. The cover looked to be leather, with gold inlaid at the binding. The leather creaked and the pages rustled like dry leaves on the wind. Taking on a serious expression, as if this story was the most important thing in the universe, the little girl started to read.

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Five

He grinned and started to say something, but just as quickly, he stopped and his mouth stayed open, his gaze settling on the blanket. Very slowly, as if he expected it to disappear before he could touch it, he reached out and curled his fingers into the soft yarn, pulling it from the back of the couch. "Where did you get this?" His voice was so low, she barely heard him.

"It was here." Rose sniffed and coughed. "I thought you brought it. Or, the TARDIS, or whatever." He bolted from the couch and was half way up the stairs before Rose could shout out after him. But by then he was gone.

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Five

"Stop it. Please, just stop it," he said harshly, his voice strained as he tried to keep it low. "The past is the past, and nothing is going to change any of it."

She made it to the door and leaned against the jamb, just stepping beneath the arch. His back was to her, the blanket gripped tight in his hand. A subtle hum shifted in the air, and Rose knew the TARDIS said something, but this time, she wasn't privy to that side of the argument.

The Doctor's head dropped forward, his shoulders dropped. "Can't you just... please. Don't you understand what it does to me to remember?"

The TARDIS' voice was just a whisper, and Rose wondered if she heard it only because the TARDIS wanted her to. Precious Rose will stop the pain.

"She already has.” His voice was rough, thick, and raw. “In so many ways."

Forever Rose will help. Help like I can't. I can't read you bedtime stories anymore, Rumplestiltskin.

The Doctor chuckled softly. Rose held her breath when he lifted the blanket to his nose and inhaled. "I can still smell her. Nearly nine hundred years, and I can still smell her."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Six

"What about Time Lords?"

The Doctor raised his head and focused on some unspecified spot across the console room. "Once. Well , once that the Time Lord in question actually admitted the child was his and took responsibility. I suppose it may have happened at other times with other Time Lords, but no one admitted to it. The unspoken sin is the sin without punishment."

"Was that the Time Lord who was..." She knew he hadn't used the word when he told her about the Time Lord before, but it seemed to fit. "... punished? Had his TARDIS taken away and everything?"

The Doctor nodded, looking down again at his controls, his fingers slowly swirling a green crystal ball that Rose had yet to determine the purpose of. "Yep." He popped the 'p'. "Before my time when it all happened. But, I hear it was quite the hullabaloo since he hid the child and mother from the Council for years. He just never went to Gallifrey. His consequences stood as warning to us all."

"What happened?"

He looked up at her. "I told you. He was punished, had his TARDIS taken away, couldn't regenerate."

"No." Rose unfolded her legs and stood, walking over to him. A green light flashed and something beeped. The last scan was done, she figured. "What happened to the child?"

The Doctor's gaze settled on her, and Rose found herself holding her breath. She couldn't explain why. "Once the Council knew, Marnal accepted his punishment without argument and without plea, providing that he could bring his human lover and their child to Gallifrey."

Revelation: The Doctor was a recluse, rogue and outcast in Academy – fighting long and hard to be a Time Lord.

Canon:

1. Generally speaking, the Doctor has been disliked by the Time Lord Council, often reprimanded and punished for his views and actions. (ie: Second Doctor forced to regenerate and sent to Earth to live with humans for ‘interfering’.)
2. The Doctor didn’t pass is TARDIS flight license test (Series Three)

Fanon:

1. The Doctor was not ‘Loomed’, and thus he was not automatically enrolled in Academy. He had to pass tests to become a Time Lord.
2. He took the name ‘The Doctor’ because his classmates taunted him with being a ‘human lover’ and his rebellious thoughts of improving the universe rather than just watch things happen.

Hints dropped:

Two Steps Forward, One Back

Perhaps of them all, excluding Susan for obvious reasons, he had cared the most about Sarah Jane. She had been with him for longer than most companions, nearly four linear years. And when he left her, he had only done it because he had been summoned to Gallifrey – a place where no human was allowed. They only tolerated him because of his father’s name.

Two Steps Forward, One Back

“No.” He touched her face, his fingers tracing over he cheekbones, her temples and through her hair around her ears. His eyes tracked the points of contact, and his lips tipped up in a tiny smile - almost a smile of wonder, and she wondered just what he saw when he looked at her like that. “Rose, my people… Time Lords, not all of Gallifrey… gave up the physical aspect of love centuries ago.”

Rose smirked. “You could’ve fooled me.”

He smiled and kissed her, but for not nearly long enough. Her body ached for him, craved him… needed him. “Yes, well…” he said against her mouth. “I never was one to subscribe to the party line, as they say. Time Lords were selected, bred, more or less created, so physical intimacy became unnecessary. It actually became a bit of a taboo, because of potential procreation outside the strict structure of the Council. Probably why they disliked me so." He mumbled the last bit a little under his breath. "I rather like physical intimacy. But, Rose Tyler, you’re getting me off point.”

Driving Lessons

“Didn’t exactly ask to see your resume, did I?” Rose shook her head. “Besides, can’t say much, can I? Didn’t exactly pick up the cap and gown before I went off to see the Universe.” The Doctor tipped his chin and bent his knees just enough to look her straight in the eyes. “I told you once, a long time ago, that I only take the best with me.”

Driving Lessons

She was beautiful, and she was enough to make a Time Lord break all the rules.

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Two

"So, if you're a Time Lord, you're from Gallifrey. But, just because you're from Gallifrey that doesn't mean you're a Time Lord."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Two

"Actually, I see the path quite clearly. If all Time Lords are Gallifreyan, and I am a Time Lord, then I am Gallifreyan. However, that does not necessarily answer the question if all Gallifreyans are Time Lords, it's one way conditional."

"Right, so all Time Lords are Gallifreyan."

He drew a breath in through his teeth, which she'd learned was his 'Yes, well, you'd think so, wouldn't you...' sound. "At least in theory."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Three

He handed her the open bottle, and didn't say anything when she took several deep swallows. "Little of both. All people of Gallifrey have two hearts and the bypass system, but Time Lords are kind of like version 2.0."

He'd gotten used to her random questions, and barely blinked at them most of the time. Rose handed the bottle to him, and he took a sip himself. "How else are you different than the run of the mill Gallifreyan?"

The Doctor stood beside her, leaning back against the wall with one foot resting on the toe of his now-dirty trainers. This planet was muddy. Very, very muddy. "Well, there's the obvious. Regeneration. Requires an recessive gene that is activated upon selection.”

“Selection,” she mumbled. She was tired, but wanted to stay awake in case they needed to move soon. “So, how are you selected? I thought you were bred to be Time Lords, right?”

“Well, it’s like you said before, Rose. Not all Gallifreyans are Time Lords. Not all Gallifreyans bred to be Time Lords become Time Lords, and on the rare occasion, an un-bred Gallifreyan actually becomes a Time Lord. Fluke of genetics.”

“So, what gets you selected and what gets you unselected?”

“Tests.” He closes his eyes and shudders, shaking his entire body. “Lessons. Exams. Studies.” He puffed his cheeks and looked up to the slowly darkening sky. “And failing those… you are effectively unselected.” He said the last with a click of his teeth together.

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Three

He pushed away from the wall, and began fishing around in his pockets. “There are always exceptions to the rules, Rose. Depends on how badly one wants the exception, I suppose. Aha!” He pulled from his pocket a large silk scarf in a deep blue with gold and black swirls. “Just the trick. Not the greatest fashion statement, but we can’t always look good when running for our lives.”

I Believe in You

I believe in you.

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had said that to him.

No, he did... he did remember. And probably more clearly now that he had in years, because just days before the TARDIS had forced him to remember.

Her face was blurred with time, but he remembered other things. More important things. He remembered a gentle touch that ruffled his hair. It had been pale then. So blonde it was nearly white. And he remembered the scent of citrus and flowers that followed her everywhere. He remembered the single heartbeat that lulled him to sleep. He remembered songs and smiles.

"You're going to be amazing some day. I believe in you. Don't let anyone ever make you believe anything different. Promise me."

The power of a word... a thought... an emotion. A touch. Belief.

The belief of one person had pushed him, made him go further than anyone expected, demand more than anyone was willing to give, and thrust him into a life he swore was his birthright even if no one else saw it that way. He'd seen terror and hell, death and destruction, but he'd seen beauty and life and faith blooming in the most likely of places. He'd felt life.

Revelation: The Doctor stole the TARDIS.

Canon:

1. The Doctor stole a TARDIS that had been decommissioned and had previously been flown by a Time Lord named Marnal. He stole the TARDIS to take his granddaughter – Susan – off Gallifrey.

Fanon:

1. Marnal was his father.
2. The Doctor took Susan off Gallifrey because she was more human than Gallifreyan and her life would have been too hard. He wanted to spare her that.

Revelation: The Doctor had a wife and family during his first life.

Canon:

1. We know he had a granddaughter, Susan, whom he was close with.
2. The Doctor has stated he was a father: Fear Her and The Doctor’s Daughter. In The Doctor’s Daughter, he implies he had more than one child.

Fanon:

1. The Doctor married a Gallifreyan woman named Mara during his first life. This is contrary to standard Time Lord beliefs… but then again, this is the Doctor. He does what he likes.
2. The Doctor had three children: Lorelei, Gwendolyn and Corin.
3. Susan was the child of Lorelei.

Hints:

Everything Rose Wanted to Know… Lesson Four

"What about marrying someone that wasn't a Time Lord? Just a normal person? Just... some ordinary Gallifrey girl or boy?"

He tipped his chin, studying the tubing over the top of his specs, and she wondered just how much good they really did him. His expression was flat, almost blank, his voice even flatter. "What, and have a normal every day domestic life? Home for dinner every night, bedtime stories and bath time, tuck the kids into bed, go off to work at the Citadel every morning?"

"Yeah."

He swallowed and flipped on the sonic screwdriver. "Time Lords don't do domestic."

Affirmation

He pushed off the doorjamb and walked to her, stilling her hands with his own. “Let me.”

Rose dropped her hands into her lap, toying with the long string that tightened the waist of her pyjamas. She watched him in the mirror as his elegant hands gently worked through her hair, finding each pin. She couldn’t help the groan as he worked the twist free, and weaved his fingers through her hair to massage her scalp. Rose rolled her head back into his hands, loving the strength of his fingers tempered with the gentleness of his touch.

He picked up her hairbrush, and worked it through her hair, freeing the lasts twists and snarls caused by the pins. The Doctor started at the ends, freeing each snarl as he worked his way up to her scalp.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d done this before.”

“What?” he asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Combed a woman’s hair.”

He didn’t provide any explanation, just continued brushing until her hair was smooth and snarl free. Then he set the brush down, his chest brushing across her shoulders as he leaned over her. As he came back, he bent and pressed a kiss to her bare skin beside the tank strap.

So... how many did you see beforehand?

Fathers and Sons Index Post

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 21:57:36 GMT

Title: Fathers and Sons

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: After Fear Her

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: PG this chapter

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: “I was a dad once.” He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he was really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.

Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn’t Afraid to Ask.

Excerpt in first section from Tardis Lullabye within the Unseen and In Between series.

A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work. When it's all posted, I'm going to do a post to my LJ explaining which is which and just where the hints were dropped

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Fathers and Sons (4/4) R

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 21:51:45 GMT

Title: Fathers and Sons

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: After Fear Her

Genre: Romance, Smut

Rating: R this chapter

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: “I was a dad once.” He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he was really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.

Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn’t Afraid to Ask.

Excerpt in first section from Tardis Lullabye within the Unseen and In Between series.

A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work. When it's all posted, I'm going to do a post to my LJ explaining which is which and just where the hints were dropped

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

"How is it that your father had a name, your brother had a name... even your wife and children had names... but you are just The Doctor?"

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“Would you believe my mother had a secret fetish for physicians?”

Rose poured hot water into two mugs. “No. Not even remotely.”

“My father had a secret fetish for physicians?”

“Doctor!”

“All right, all right. As far as I am aware, neither of my parents had fetishes for anyone in the medical profession. If anything, I suppose it can be said my father had a thing for women in wimples.”

“Stop it. Seriously.” Rose carried the cups back to the table, setting one in front of him before she sat down. “You’re not changing the subject.”

The Doctor sighed, taking a bite of his chocolate biscuit. “All right. Fine. As you have so cleverly determined, my birth name is not The Doctor.” He raised a finger, quieting her before she could ask her next question. “No, Rose. I am not going to tell you my name.” He reached across the table and took her hand, turning it over so her palm was up, then he curled her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “It probably sounds like avoidance, or that I just don’t want to tell you, but I have my reasons. Valid reasons. And they’re all to keep you safe.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because your name is…” She paused, trying to think of the worst name possible. “Narcissus, or something.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you calling me vain?”

Rose lifted her cup of tea to her lips to hide her smile. “Hmmmm.”

“Hmmmm? What does that mean?” His expression transformed into shock, one eyebrow arching high over wide eyes.

Rose took a sip of her tea, and slid from her chair, returning to the counter to keep him from seeing her face. She was half way to the sink before his arms came around her and he lifted her off her feet. Rose squealed, clinging to his arms around her middle. They were both laughing by the time he set her down and turned her in his arms.

“So, I’m vain, am I?”

“With good reason,” she teased, reaching up to ruffle his already rumpled and unruly hair. “You’ve got great hair this time ‘round.”

He backed them up until they bumped the counter, and without missing a beat, the Doctor lifted her up and set her bottom on the counter edge, sliding his body between her legs. “That the only thing you like?”

“No.” He was kissing her before she finished her answer, his fingers digging into her hips to pull her against him. Rose leaned back, setting her hands on the counter so she could see him but he couldn’t quite reach her to kiss her again. “But, you are still not avoiding the question, Doctor!”

“Answer’s the same… I’m not telling you my name.”

“Okay. Tell me why you’re called The Doctor.”

“It’s not that interesting a story, Rose. Honestly.” He pulled her closer to the edge, his arms sliding behind her to keep her against him. “This is much more interesting.”

Rose wiggled and squirmed, laughing when his fingers tickled her sides, but managed to get free of his gangly arms and hopped down from the counter. When she was outside his reach, Rose stepped backwards, offering her most seductive smile as she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “Tell you what,” she said, sliding his large shirt down off one shoulder to expose the mostly bare skin beneath. “Tell me why you’re The Doctor, and I’ll give you back your shirt.”

“I rather like you in that shirt.”

“Okay… tell me and I’ll wear nothing but your shirt.”

His eyes darkened as they shifted down her body, and heat flushed over her skin just by his glance. “It was a nickname at first,” he finally answered. “A taunt, really. I wasn’t exactly the favored student at Academy. Everyone knew of my parentage, the Cardinals made no secret of their distaste in my muddied bloodlines, and I wasn’t exactly the model example of stoicism and detachment.”

Looked at him over her shoulder, Rose turned her back to him and slipped her arms free of the shirtsleeves. “Keep talking, Doctor.”

His mouth was partially open, his eyes watching her as she worked off the shirt and removed the tank beneath without revealing a single, partial inch of skin. Rose was thankful now for all those times she had to change clothes in the front seat of Shireen’s car because they were both late for work, or school, or someone’s party.

“Um… right. Ah… nickname. Actually, it started with my friend.” When he said ‘friend’, something in his voice changed, strained, and Rose looked back at him. His teeth clicked together and he swallowed. “Sorry. I just haven’t thought of him in a very, very long time.” His eyes snapped back to her, and Rose held out her arm, dangling the now removed tank top off her fingertips. She dropped it on the floor before buttoning up the front of the shirt.

“You’re not talking, Doctor.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes on the dropped tank. “I had ideas to change things. Make things better, not just for us, but for everyone. All the species and planets we watched, sometimes just let die. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t do more. Fix things. So, my friend started calling me The Doctor… the Fixer.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t meant to be a… he didn’t mean it like that. But, others started calling me Doctor in ridicule.”

“Why would you use it as a name then?” She turned back around to face him when the shirt was buttoned just enough to cover her breasts while leaving plenty of cleavage.

He shrugged one shoulder, taking a step toward her. “They called me a revolutionary, a rebel, a human-lover. I supposed I was all those things. And I didn’t want to be anything else.”

Rose took a step backward, not wanting to end the game quite yet. “Was it hard for you?”

The Doctor scowled, dipping his chin. “I suppose. I dealt with the Cardinals pushing me harder than anyone else, figured it made me the better student in the end. And the opinions of the other Initiates didn’t matter to me. It was being away from my family that bothered me most. I was eight years old.”

“Doctor,” Rose said softly, waiting for his eyes to come back to her. Holding his gaze, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pyjamas and slid them down her legs, bending forward enough to give him a quick view down the loose shirt.

The scowl was quickly replaced by heat and desire, and Rose’s heart fluttered knowing she could do that to him. With her bare foot, Rose hooked the flannel bottoms with her toes and kicked them aside, standing now in just the loose, blue cotton shirt that just cleared the top of her thighs.

“S’at why you took Susan away?” she asked, taking one more step back until she reached the kitchen archway leaning into the hall. Rose tucked her hands behind her and raised one knee to set her bare foot against the wall. “So she wouldn’t go through that?”

The Doctor took a step toward her, his eyes on her legs and not her face. Heavy eyelids hooded his gaze, and as he walked, he unbuttoned the front of his suit jacket. “Lorelei asked me to take her away. To show her where she came from. The people she belonged to.”

He shrugged off the jacket and tossed it on a kitchen chair as he passed. He still wore the open-neck tee shirt he’d worn to the Games that exposed his neck and showed just enough chest hair to made her blood hum. By the time he reached her, Rose’s breath caught in her chest in tiny gasps. He invaded her space, pressed her body against the wall with his own, and hooked his hand behind her knee to level it with his slim hips.

He used the long index finger of his other hand to skim her skin along the open collar of his shirt she wore. Rose’s eyes fluttered as his fingertip followed the upper curve of her breast to the valley between. The Doctor bent his head and brushed his nose along her neck, his breath on her skin. His hair tickled her cheek and his tongue smoothed along the column of her throat, down her breastbone until he reached the ‘v’ of the shirt. The hand he had hooked behind her knee slid up her thigh until it pushed the tail of the shirt over her hips, his fingertips pressing into her bottom.

“Rose,” he said against her breasts, and the sound of her name vibrated through her. “I’ll tell you more, I swear. But right now…” His fingers released the next button of the shirt. He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “I want to be inside you.”

Rose shuddered, a thrust of arousal snapping through her.

The Doctor bent his knees and effortlessly lifted her off the floor. Rose wrapped her legs around him, hanging on to his shoulders as he carried her from the kitchen, his mouth hot against her throat as he walked. When they reached the bedroom, he set his knee on the bed and laid her back, moving with her so he hovered over her.

“Rose,” he said roughly, and she felt herself shake beneath the intensity of his gaze. “What you do to me…” He left the phrase incomplete, suspending his weight on one arm as he unbuttoned the shirt with the other. With the release of each button, Rose’s breath came faster and her pulse pounded at the base of her throat.

His knuckles grazed over her breasts and down her stomach, teasing her navel before brushing the juncture of her thighs. She groaned, curling her fingers into his shoulders as he leaned in and drifted his open mouth over her abdomen, lower and lower until his breath stirred tight curls, making her gasp.

The Doctor scooted backwards, his tongue trailing a line from where her inner thigh met her body to the inside of her knee. It was all Rose could do to keep from crying out as her senses sparked and came alive. He set one foot on the floor, the other knee still resting on the bed, and straightened. With his dark gaze watching her, the Doctor reached behind his neck and pulled the dark cotton shirt off over his head.

Rose started to sit up and slide his shirt off her arms. “No,” he said, not sharply but stern enough that she stopped. “Leave it on.”

She lay back again, letting her fingers brush along the open edges of the shirt, opening it enough to expose her breasts and body. He watched her and inhaled a deep breath, swallowing as his eyes darkened more. Not looking away from her, he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his trousers, the sound of the zipper mingling with Rose’s panted breaths. By the time he stood and let the trousers drop, Rose was dizzy, unable to lie still.

He knelt on the bed again, his eyes on her face as he gently pushed her legs apart, his hands on the inside of her knees. Only when he leaned in and his mouth touched her skin did he close his eyes as he slowly worked his way up the inside of her thigh. His teeth grazed slightly, his tongue tasted and his lips kissed, sucking gently.

His mouth reached her heat, but as much as Rose’s instincts were to close her eyes and let the sensations take over, she couldn’t look away. The Doctor’s hands slid beneath her bottom, lifting her a tiny degree off the bed, and his thumbs stroked sensitive skin as his breath whispered over her. He paused and inhaled, and Rose felt a spasm of need ripple through her. She was nearly orgasmic and he hadn’t fully touched her yet!

Then the tip of his tongue stroked over her clitoris and she cried out, pushing reactively against him and he latched onto her with his open mouth. Tears burned her eyes, but only because of the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch. His tongue pressed against her, rolling and tasting, and he hummed softly. Rose couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think, but she couldn’t look away. His gaze darted up her body, meeting her stare, and he smiled against her.

His hand slid from beneath her, and with his tongue licking her with just enough pressure to sent tiny bolts of electricity through with each pass, he pushed a finger inside her.

She shattered, a devastating orgasm gripping her and she curled her fingers into the bedcovers just to keep herself from flying off the bed. He never took his mouth away, stroking and sucking until the spasms eased, leaving her limp and gasping.

The Doctor rose over her again, and took his finger from inside her to draw it into his own mouth, sucking at it just as he had the jam from his fingers at the Weber’s house.

A shudder moved through Rose, and she had to swallow against the dry desert in her throat. “Oh, god…” she whispered. “Doctor.”

His body shifted along hers, each point of contact tingling in the aftermath of her orgasm. In one swift act, he thrust inside her and covered her mouth with an open kiss, his tongue invading her and she groan, her body arching against him. His hands found hers and he laced their fingers together, drawing her arms higher so her hands rested on the mattress beside her head, nearly immobilizing her as he set a steady, forceful rhythm. Rose’s fingers curled tighter as her body tensed again, already on the verge of another climax.

His tongue filled her mouth, and tasted like champagne, the remnants of her own arousal mingling with the taste of the Doctor. She gasped against his mouth, her breath hitching with each push of his hips against her. The Doctor left her mouth, burying his face against her throat, a low groan rumbling from his chest and vibrating through his lips. Words she didn’t understand and couldn’t comprehend laced his sounds of anticipation.

Her breasts bounced with each thrust, brushing her nipples against the sparse hair on his chest, and the sensation was enough alone to make her want to scream. Rose drew up her knees and the angle changed, and she did scream… his name echoing off the walls.

His body shook over her, and she saw the ripple and twist of his back and shoulder muscles as he tried to keep the pace. Everything coiled, tightened, and her skin flushed with cold heat from her throat to their joined bodies. He thrust harder, the bed creaking beneath them and Rose squeezed his hands, her lungs burning as she tried to fill them with precious air.

“Doctor!” she screamed, and she shattered around him.

He grunted against her breast, continuing to pump his hips as the orgasm rolled through her. It was a sweet conflict between never wanting the overwhelming sensations to stop, and thinking she might die if they didn’t because her mind and body was on overload.

The Doctor rose over her, his hands still pinning hers to the bed and looked down at her, his expression twisted in sweet ecstasy. Sweat glistened on his forehead, clinging to his brown hair. Rose arched her back, screaming again because she couldn’t take the bolts of energy pulsing through her.

With one hard thrust, he pushed into her and stilled, his eyes closing as a spasm shook his body. He moved a fraction, only to push into her again, a small groan escaping his lips before he finally released her hands and his weight collapsed on her. They both were slick with sweat, panting for breath. She felt her heart pounding against his cheek where he’d rested on her breast, and his double hearts thundered through his ribs.

Only when they both were breathing somewhat normally did the Doctor turn his head and flutter a kiss across the swell of her breasts. He raised his head and looked at her, a satisfied and somewhat pleased grin on his lips.

“Do you need to get up?” he asked.

Rose shook her head. “I don’t think I could walk right now if my life depended on it.”

He laughed softly. “Neither could I.”

The Doctor leaned across her and found an edge to the bed duvet, swinging it over her legs. But, he didn’t lie beside her. Instead, he scooted further down the bed and laid his head on her stomach, using her body as his pillow. His fingers danced over her skin, sending another jolt through her, and Rose laced her fingers into his hair.

“You’ll be with me forever, Rose,” he said softly, his face turned away from her so she couldn’t see his eyes. He kissed her stomach. “Forever.”

Rose combed her finger through his damp hair. Before she could respond, he took in a deep breath and his entire body relaxed. Within moments, his deep breathing told her he’d already drifted to sleep. Rarely did he sleep when they shared the bed, and if he did fall asleep with her he was never asleep when she woke up. He might be beside her, but never asleep.

She let her head rest on the bed, still stroking his hair. Rose stared up at the ceiling, a smile ghosting over her lips.

“I love you.”

He drew a deep breath in his sleep, but didn’t move otherwise.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

When the Doctor woke, he lifted his head from her stomach to lean over her, looking into her sleeping face. Rose was deep in the kind of sleep that only came with complete satiation, a soft smile bowing her lips. He couldn’t help the wide grin of pride in knowing he’d left the smile on her face.

He shifted along beside her, and with just the slightest nudge of encouragement, Rose turned onto her side to nuzzle her nose against his chest, humming softly. He tugged the blanket higher around them and reached for two pillows to support their heads.

Lying in the dim light of the bedroom, the Doctor studied her. Her features were relaxed, her cheeks flushed slightly with sleep. The Doctor stroked her cheek with his fingertips and smoothed over the softness of her lips. Her breath warmed his skin and she responded to his touch even in her sleep, parting her lips. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against him to tuck her head beneath his chin.

He kissed her hair and rubbed his cheek against her own before stilling his lips near her ear. She inhaled softly, rolling tighter into him, her hands slipping over his side so her arm draped over him. As softly as possible, he closed his eyes and whispered a name that had not crossed his lips in nearly nine centuries.

Fathers and Sons (3/4) PG

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 22:35:52 GMT

Title: Fathers and Sons

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: After Fear Her

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: “I was a dad once.” He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he was really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.

Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn’t Afraid to Ask.

A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work. When it's all posted, I'm going to do a post to my LJ explaining which is which and just where the hints were dropped

Part One
Part Two

He tipped his chin up and indicated the expanse of the library with the movement of his head. “Here. In the TARDIS. His TARDIS. I was born here.”

Rose jumped at a sudden sound behind her, and the Doctor flipped her onto the cushions, gaining his feet. He was half way across the library before she could catch her breath.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The Doctor reached the far corner of the library just as the bookshelves split and slid aside, Rose running up behind him to peer past his arm, watching the shifting of books and wood. In the space revealed appeared the door that Rose had seen a couple weeks before while nursing a bad cold on the library couch.

The last time she saw it, she had been much further away lying on the couch, and had only seen that it was a door that the TARDIS in the form of the blonde, blue-eyed child had disappeared into it to retrieve a storybook. Now, standing this close, she saw that it was actually a double door, the knobs meeting in the center. They were rich and dark, carved with images of suns and moons, animals and fairies, like a storybook picture carved into the wood.

"S'at room again," she said, pointing past him. "Remember?"

"Yesssss." The Doctor drew out the 's', his brow pulled down over his eyes as he studied the door. He reached into his suit for his screwdriver, waving the blue tip back and forth across the doorway. "More temporal residue. It's been put here from some other point in time." He mumbled more than spoke as he scanned the door, and looking at the tip of the screwdriver. He sucked in a deep breath before rotating on his heels to look at her. "I suppose the old girl is ready for us to see what she's hiding, hmmmm?"

Before she answered, he reached for the knobs and pushed the doors open, revealing the room beyond. Two steps into the room, the Doctor stopped and his hands dropped to his side.

Rose gasped, stepping around him to see the entire room.

There was no doubt the room belonged to a child... a somewhat messy child because the floor was scattered with toys and books and sketch pads with coloring pencils worn down to near nubs. Everything was blue in some shade or variation... the walls, the thick duvet on the bed, the carpet that covered the center of the floor, and the ceiling... the ceiling was a night sky complete with twinkling stars and a pink-yellow nebulus cloud. Rose stood in a bare spot on the floor and looked up, turning slowly. There was no end to the sky... she could have been standing in the center of a field in Chesham and the air in the room carried the scent of grass and evening.

"Doctor... this is beautiful," she whispered, suddenly feeling that the room deserved her reverence. She crouched down and picked up one of the sketch pads. The drawing was juvenile in its simplicity, but the colors were vivid and the paper indented where the artist had pushed the pencils hard into the pad.

Three people stood hand in hand. One... the father, if Rose had to guess... stood much taller than the others with wide shoulders and large hands. He was drawn to have yellow hair and a wide smile, and two hearts were drawn over his chest. Beside him was a woman wearing a green dress with long brown hair. A single heart was drawn for her, but it was large and took up just as much space as the father's two.

And between them was a little boy, his hair drawn with a white pencil. He held the hand of each adult, and his smile took up his entire face. Two hearts were drawn on his chest. Separate from the three, drawn in the corner, was a little girl with long blonde hair and dark blue eyes.

This was the Doctor's room.

When she looked up from the drawing, she sought the Doctor out and saw that he'd moved from the doorway to the bed. Draped across the foot of the bed was the same soft afghan Rose remembered the TARDIS giving her when she was sick. The Doctor picked it up and held it to his face, his eyes closed as he inhaled. With the blanket still held to his nose he sank down onto the small bed.

"You were a messy little boy," Rose said softly, walking over him, stepping carefully over the books and toys. She sat down beside him, close enough that she could lean her cheek against his arm and lay her hand on his leg.

He lowered the blanket, holding it bundled in his hands. "My mother was forever telling me to clean up, but I always thought there were more important things to do. And why put all my toys away if I'm just going to take them out again?" His voice was distant and rough, his eyes on the blanket. "She made this before I was born and I slept with it until the day we left the TARDIS."

A shuddered breath shook his body and he looked up, his gaze on the other side of the room. "We landed on Gallifrey and I remember being very cross because they wouldn't let me take some toy with me..." He shook his head. "I don't even remember what it was now. My mother told me I could play with it when we came home." Rose's eyes prickled with hot tears when she saw the moisture pooling in his dark brown eyes. "They never let us come back."

Rose wrapped her arm behind him, curling her other hand into the bend of his arm to hold him. She rested her cheek on his shoulder but tipped her head back to see his face. The smiles and bright gleam in his eyes from just minutes before were now replaced with a sadness that pulled at his features. "How old were you?"

He shook his head again. "Perhaps five? Six?"

"Why did your father decide to bring you back? He looked down at her, and she offered a smile, hoping he knew it was okay to keep talking. "He must have had some idea..."

The Doctor swallowed, closing his eyes slowly. He laid his hand on hers. "He wanted me to go to the Academy. He knew that the Council would be angry, but really didn't know what they would do to him. But, they couldn't deny my right to be trained as a Time Lord. I was a child of Gallifrey. It was my right, just like any child."

Rose set the sketch in his lap and his gaze shifted down. "I think we should hang this up, too. Or, at least, put it somewhere special. Who's this?" she asked, pointing out the girl in the corner. "Did you have a sister?"

"No," he answered, taking his specs from his pocket so he could examine the picture. "I had a brother, but not while we lived here. No, that is my imaginary friend. My father used to say it was a touch of the human in me to create an imaginary playmate when there was so much to do within the TARDIS to occupy my mind."

She smiled at the thought that the Doctor - A Time Lord who traveled the stars in a blue box - had an imaginary friend when he was a little boy. "Yeah? Cuz... she looks a lot like the TARDIS. You know, when she visits with me. Blonde hair, dark blue eyes... could be her."

"I never made the connection..." He said softly, studying the picture. "You told me, and I don't think I even remembered. I just thought..." He let the handing holding the sketchpad drop into his lap. The Doctor looked at Rose. "Why would she show herself to you now and not me?"

Rose shrugged. "Probably got her reasons."

He seemed to slip back into thought, staring at the drawing, but some of the strain had left his face, the lines around his eyes relaxing. Rose pulled back, but stayed beside him, picking up a small stuffed toy on the bed. It looked like a cross between a rhinoceros and a pelican, and was a deep purple color. A book sat on the bed behind the Doctor and she picked it up, smiling when she saw the title embossed in the leather.

"Look. Here's the book she read me. Rumplestiltskin ."

"It was my favorite story. She used to read..." His voice trailed off again and he looked at the book. "I should have known then. Imaginary friends don't read books at the foot of your bed, do they?"

"How would you have known? Sounds like you didn't exactly have a bunch of other children hangin' 'round tellin' you how to act and how things were supposed to be. Maybe that's why she was a little girl. So you had a friend?"

"Maybe."

The Doctor stood and Rose scooted back further onto the bed, crossing her legs with the sketch pad and book in her lap. She watched him traverse the room slowly, stopping here and there to pick up a toy or a book, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. The room was really huge, probably bigger than her mum's entire flat.

He stopped to pick up a small round toy on the shelf, and she smiled when his face lit up. With a slight touch, the entire toy exploded in color, taking on a brand new form in the palm of his hands. It was like a kaliedescope without the tube. "I used to love this!” he declared, bounding on the balls of his feet. “I think it was the toy I wanted to take with me."

The Doctor played for several minutes, and Rose just watched. He was like a kid all over again, not that he wasn't often like a kid. It was engrained in his personality now.

"So," she said after a bit. "You didn't have a sister. Did you have any brothers?"

His head popped up and he slipped the magical changing ball into his pocket. Rose smiled, wondering how long it would be before she found him playing with the toy when he thought she wasn't looking. "Yes. He was born several years after me. After I'd gone on to Academy. Roderick. My father was hesitant to allow my mother to have another child."

"Why?"

"Having me was difficult for her." He ticked his head to the side before diverting his eyes away. "Probably one of the reasons Time Lords were discouraged from procreating, especially outside of Gallifrey. My mother conceived — quite unexpectedly, as you might imagine — but, the genetic coding for a Time Lord is pre-set for a very strictly monitored and guided growth pattern."

"Which means what, exactly?"

He came back across the room and dropped onto the bed with a hop, making the mattress bounce and Rose squeak as she tried to keep from toppling onto the floor. The Doctor leaned back, extending his legs with his ankles crossed, supporting his weight on his bent elbows. "In any species that procreates naturally, it's all done automatically. Zygotes divide into blastomeres. The blastocyst attaches to the endometrium.” Rose pulled a face, grimacing. “But, when a Time Lord is Loomed, every stage of development is initiated by the nursery guardians. Nothing happens naturally."

"But, it did... obviously."

"Well, yeah... but not like anything you'd call normal. A human pregnancy is approximately nine months. In comparison, a loomed child remains in the Loom for--" He tipped his head back and forth, his lower lip protruding as he ran calculations in his head. "--the equivalent of three and a half years. Course, we also come out of the Loom with full cognitive, linguistic and motor skills developed."

Rose gasped. "Good God, please tell me your mother wasn't pregnant for over three years."

"Nah. Just two."

"What?"

He shifted his weight onto one elbow and wagging a finger at her with the other hand. "No elephant jokes."

"You're telling me your mother was pregnant for two years."

He hummed an affirmative, nodding his head. "Mind you, even then, not like a human pregnancy. I was on slow cook." Rose groaned, and he grinned. "My father told me years later that he thought it was because the Time Lord DNA was dominant. Takes longer for a Time Lord to develop because of the Regenerative DNA coding and whatnot. Her human body didn't quite know how to handle it. Not that it was a particularly hard pregnancy, by what I hear. My father said you couldn't even tell for a good ten or twelve months."

Rose stretched out on her side beside him. "Wasn't she worried? I mean, come 'round the tenth or eleventh month, I would've been wonderin'."

"By then, she'd gotten used to things being different with my dad. And he took care of her, him and the TARDIS. Still wasn't easy, and my father didn't want to put her at risk. But, she had Roderick without much fuss. He wasn't born with the Regenerative gene, so it was more a Gallifreyan/Human cross and didn't go along quite the same."

Rose shook her head, staring down at a star embroidered on the duvet they laid across. "Confusin', that's what it is. Human DNA, Gallifreyan DNA, Gallifreyan but Time Lord DNA..." She looked up, and found the Doctor watching her. “What?"

He didn't answer right away, his gaze shifting over her face as one corner of his mouth ticked up in a small smile. "It's just... I never even considered telling anyone all the things I've just..." His smile widened.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for telling me."

With a huff, the Doctor rolled forward off the bed and stood, offering his hand to her. "What do you say we go have some tea and biscuits?"

Rose took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "Sure. One more question, though."

"Still?" She nodded. "Okay, one more question."

"How is it that your father had a name, your brother had a name... even your wife and children had names... but you are just The Doctor?"

Fathers and Sons (2/4) PG-13

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 23:50:43 GMT

Title: Fathers and Sons

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: After Fear Her

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: PG-13 this chapter

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: “I was a dad once.” He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he was really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.

Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn’t Afraid to Ask.

A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work. When it's all posted, I'm going to do a post to my LJ explaining which is which and just where the hints were dropped

Part One

"Susan was human."

As soon as the words left his lips, the Doctor stood and strode away from the couch, leaving Rose to catch her balance with the sudden shift of the seat cushions. She closed the album and set it aside, watching him as he walked to the hearth and set his elbow on the mantle, rubbing his fingers across his brow as if staving off a headache.

Rose stared hard, and realization hit her like a snap of her fingers and she sucked in a breath. A dozen little pieces of the puzzle tumbled together, like the old TETRIS game Mickey used to play. A turn here, a flip there, an off-handed comment dropped... and everything was right there for her to see.

She blinked, bringing him into focus and he watched her. With an almost apologetic expression, he nodded. "Ask it... ask your one question, Rose. I know that's all you need." His mouth tipped up in one corner. "Clever Rose."

Rose unfolded her legs from the couch cushions and stood, walking about half way to him before she stopped. Thoughts churned and facts aligned, and her heart pounded faster with each realization. Every question she'd asked, every conversation they'd had... every bit pointed to one fact. She almost couldn't breathe with the enormity of the truth.

She blinked, focusing again, and swallowed hard before stuttering out her question. "Doctor... wh-what was your father's name?"

He drew a breath, smiling as he released it. "Marnal."

"Once the Council knew, Marnal accepted his punishment without argument and without plea, providing that he could bring his human lover and their child to Gallifrey."

"Oh. My. God."

The library tilted and blurred, but before she lost her legs completely the Doctor was there, easing her back onto the ottoman to sit. He crouched in front of her, his hands resting against her hips, anxiety pinching around his eyes. "Are you still with me?"

Rose nodded, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. "Yeah. I'm good. I just... I hadn't expected this." Her heart rate finally found a more reasonable rhythm and Rose focused on the Doctor's face. He still looked the same to her — still amazing, still adorable — still the most incredibly unbelievable man she had ever or would ever know...

"Tell me what you're thinking."

She reached out a shaky hand and laid it against his cheek. His eyes shifted to the contact, and then back to her, and Rose smiled. "I'm thinking that I'm relieved... I'm... happy for you."

"Why?" he asked, pulling back from the touch, sounding completely shocked by her words. "Why would you say that? Do you remember everything I said, Rose? About Marnal being ostracized... about the Council taking everything away from him? He was-was-was--" He stuttered over his words, like he always did when there was too much flying around in his brain to connect it all with something so archaic as speech. "Punished. They took his TARDIS. This TARDIS. They took his lives!"

He shot straight up, and Rose's head snapped back to keep him in her sight. The Doctor strode away, back to the fireplace, his knuckles white as he gripped the mantle. He shot a look back at her. "How can you say you're happy? Why?”

Rose shook her head, keeping her emotions level despite the anger that tinged his voice. He didn’t understand, and she would just have to make him understand. "Doctor... the Council may have taken those things, but... it seems to me they couldn't take the one thing - the two things - that meant the most to your father. Your mother. And you."

He still stared, one eyebrow arched higher than the other, breathing hard. The Doctor tipped his head back, staring at the ornately carved the wall over the fireplace mantle. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

She waited until the electrical current that seemed to charge the air in the library dissipated before standing again. The initial shock was gone, and the image was so clear now. Rose walked to him, her feet silent on the carpet, until she stood within arm's reach of him without reaching out.

"You want to know why I'm happy?"

He nodded, but didn't look at her, didn't open his eyes.

"When you first told me about how Time Lords are created, and not born... how they are bred without mothers and fathers and raised for the sole purpose of being a Time Lord... my heart broke. I only had my mum growing up, but I still had her. And I knew she loved me. I thought how awful it must have been to grow up without that, and I wished you could have had more."

As she talked, he lowered his chin and turned his head, opening his eyes to look at her.

"I'm happy, Doctor, because now I know you were loved. Your father didn't lose anything that wasn't completely made up for by gaining you."

"How do you know that?" His voice was nearly lost in the small space between them.

"Everything about you." She laid one hand on his arm, and pointed back toward the album on the couch. "They tell me. If your mother and father hadn't loved you, you wouldn't have wanted to rebel against the Council enough to have a family of your own."

He sucked in a sharp breath, and smiled. It was a hesitant smile, a distant smile... a smile almost of wonder. Without focusing on her, he spoke. "My father couldn't be a Time Lord anymore, and they didn't want him in the Citadel or the Academy. So, he became a laborer... a normal man. He made furniture." The Doctor chuckled softly. "I can remember his hands. They were huge,... at least to me. Rough and calloused, and they always smelled of stain." He sniffed. "I used to sit in his workshop with him. I was maybe seven years old, before I went to be tested for Academy. He said it was my birthright to be tested... and if I passed the genetic exams... it was my birthright to be a Time Lord. He'd quiz me on Dimension Relativity and warp core drives until I could rattle off formulas without hesitation. I was considered one of the most brilliant students to join the Academy."

Rose smiled, deciding against her typical ‘you think you’re so brilliant’ snarks. "Looks like he did a good job."

The Doctor nodded, but his attention didn't drift from whatever distant place it had slipped off to. "My mother was so beautiful, Rose. She had dark brown hair that she always wore in a braid and it fell all the way to her waist. And she used to sing... no matter what she was doing. Cleaning, cooking, just… walking… she sang.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but only because her heart had swelled with so much love for him that she couldn’t hold it in. She’d never seen this particular look in his eyes, like he had slipped into a memory that was so wonderful and so beautiful that it filled him, and overflowed to her.

“She used to travel with him all over the universe." His eyes shifted to her then, his smile hitching up just a little more. "Just like you."

Rose stepped closer to the Doctor, wanting to soak in some of the euphoria rolling off him. His hands slid beneath the loose, open front of his shirt she wore to rest at her waist, and his smile bubbled through her like champagne in her veins.

“What was her name?”

Holding his head high, he said his mother’s name as if it were the most regal and important name to ever be heard. “Ann.”

“S’beautiful.” Rose slid her hands up to his shoulders to wrap her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and let a low moan purr softly in her throat when he pulled her close and squeezed her tight. As she pulled back. she took his hand and walked back to the couch. "So, tell me how they met, your mum and dad."

The Doctor reclaimed his position in the corner of the couch, his arm across the back so Rose could settle in the space at his side. She sat sideways, with her legs pulled up beside her and her bent knees resting against his thigh and hip so she could watch the play of expressions across his face when he talked.

"My father was sent by the Council to observe some strange events in the timeline on Earth around the dawn of the 25th century. Medical advances were coming rapidly, progressing humanity forward too quickly. His job was to determine whether action was required by the Time Lord Council as no individual Time Lord was authorized to act on their own."

Rose chuckled, tilting her head sideways so she could rest it on his arm. "You wouldn't do well with that, would you? Checking with someone else before you save the day."

"No, not at all," the Doctor said with a grin. "Never was good at it, even when there was still a Time Lord Council to check with. Probably why they exiled me for a few years... but, that's a story for another day."

"Okay, so, he's sent to watch. How'd he meet your mum?"

The Doctor laughed and dropped his head back to rest on the high back of the couch. "You'll love this. And I'm sure your mother would have something to say about my family line corrupting young women throughout the galaxy." Rose waited, her curiosity piqued. He cleared his throat and looked at her. "She was a nun."

Rose's mouth fell open of its own free will, and she stared at him.

"Yep," he said with a loud pop of his 'p'. "Not only did my father make a human woman his lover - against every precedent and directive established by the Time Lord Council - but, he 'corrupted a woman of faith'. Of course, she was a nun of the New Dominican Congrative Alliance faith, and although celibacy was encouraged in their clergy, it was not an absolute mandate."

"Oh. My. God."

He grinned lopsided, turning just slightly so they faced each other more. "Seems that she worked in one of the hospitals he was observing, and she caught him 'observing' up close one evening. Being a pretentious Time Lord, he told her to be on her way and leave him to his work. She refused, demanding to know who he was. Even following him when he returned to the TARDIS, which, didn't look like a Police Public Call Box then. That's really my fault. Run in with the chameleon switch and a peanut butter and banana sandwich when I was a tot."

Rose nearly choked on her laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I'll have you know it was not found to be amusing at the time." He tipped his chin down, arching his eyebrows. "I can remember quite clearly my mother arguing that if my father didn't let me play without guidance with the machinery, I wouldn't leave my lunch there for later. He argued, of course, that if I didn't play I wouldn't learn... and that I should be taking my meals in the kitchen, not the console room." He smiled as he told the story, so it obviously wasn't that heated of an argument.

"S'at why you're always fiddling with her? Fixin' all the things you broke when you were little?"

He poked a finger into the corner of his eye by his nose, rubbing gently. "Most likely, yes. I'm sure I inflicted more damage than anyone ever readily admitted to."

Rose sighed. She enjoyed just sitting with him, but hearing so much of who he was and who he had been had always seemed like something that wouldn't happen. He always kept everything so close to the vest. She loved that he enjoyed telling her, not just telling her because she pushed and demanded.

"So, my mother followed my father back to and right inside the TARDIS. I'm sure you can recall your initial reaction."

"I ran right back out."

"She didn't. She just told him he was impossible. Full denial." He cut his hand across the air, shaking his head. "No matter what he said, or did, she just kept telling him he was impossible and didn't exist. So, once the Council determined that nothing should be done that things would work themselves out, he left Earth. And took her with him. Just to prove her wrong."

"I'm guessing she believed him eventually."

"Eventually, yeah. I guess he didn't take well to being told first he didn't exist, and second being constantly knocked down from his all-mighty Time Lord mountaintop by a human of all creatures. She didn't give him an inch. A good match for him." The Doctor lowered his arm from the back of the couch and stroked his fingertips across her cheek, smiling. "Like someone else I know." He took a deep breath and his eyes roamed over her. "Have I mentioned how tempting you are wearing my shirt?" His long fingers tugged at the collar, revealing some of her shoulder, and skimmed down the side of her throat to send a small shiver through her.

"So...." She leaned into his touch, rubbing her cheek against his hand like a cat. "To fall in love with a human, I'm guessing your father wasn't a toe-the-line kind of Time Lord, either? Like father like son?"

"More like sins of the father visited on the son, I think. Taking a lover, let alone a human lover, wasn't the first time he'd pushed the limits of Time Lord propriety. He'd acted without their guidance or permission, he'd taken unsanctioned trips to planets and timelines they didn't feel the need to monitor because they were lesser races who had no effect - so the Time Lords believed - on the Universe as a whole."

Rose reached out to stroke her fingers through his hair, smiling when he turned into her hand and kissed her wrist. "No, I wouldn't call it a sin. It's wonderful. I love those things about you. All the things you say the Time Lords didn't approve of. I can't imagine you any other way. Even before... when I first met you. I can't..." She blinked, shaking her head as she tried to work out the words she wanted. "They did a good job, your mum and dad."

"Yeah?"

His insecurity always seemed so out of character to Rose. Here was a man who had saved worlds, changed and manipulated history, faced beasts and monsters, demanded authority... but sometimes, he just looked like a little lost boy unsure of what to do next.

"Yeah. They'd be proud. Very proud."

The fingers that had been stroking her throat curled behind her neck, lacing into her still-sleep-rumpled hair. His gaze settled on her lips, and with just that simple shift of his attention, Rose's heartbeat jumped. He urged her to move to him, and met her half way, his open mouth covering hers as his tongue slid along between her lips. Both his large, elegant hands held her, tilting her head to let him fill her mouth with his tongue. That glorious tongue that could do magic.

Rose shifting so she rose over him and they settled back into the corner of the couch, her hands curled into his lapel to support her weight. The Doctor's hands left her face to squeeze her hips and she straddled her leg across his lap, sitting on his thighs. His moan skimmed across her mouth as she took control of their position, gently rocking her hips against him. Long fingers slid over her bottom with a firm touch, pressing her harder against him.

He slid his mouth along her jaw and down her throat, his tongue soft and warm against her skin, until he reached the curved neckline of her pyjama tank. Breathing warm against the curve of her breasts, the Doctor tugged the material down, exposing more skin for his tongue to taste and his teeth to graze over. She braced her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his neck, throwing her head back as his mouth played over her skin.

With a shuddered breath, Rose forced herself to lean back, breaking the contact of his mouth to her breasts, and pushed her hair back from her face. The Doctor looked up at her, his lips glistening and damp, his tongue hovering, ready to taste her again.

"Wait..." She managed to say, even though her heart pounded like a caged bird and her breath came in short bursts.

"What?"

"I want to know more. I want to hear more."

"Right now?" As if emphasizing the point, he slid his hands beneath the ribbed material of her top, his hands - slightly cooler than her own, just enough to make her back arch - skimmed up her spine.

Rose instinctively rocked her body, eliciting a low rumble from the Doctor, his eyes threatening to close. She already ached, but she knew that if he stopped talking now, he might never broach the subject again and she wanted to know everything she could about him. "Yes." Her voice rasped and she cleared her throat softly. Rose curled her fingers around the cushion. She scooted back, sliding along his thighs until she sat near his knees and leaned down to look him in the eyes. "I want to hear more."

His hands rested on her legs and he slid them over the soft flannel to rest near her hips, his thumbs caressing the inside of her thighs. "What else do you want to know?"

Rose drew a breath, releasing it as she asked her next question. ”So, you told me that Marnal — your dad — hid you from the Time Lord Council for years. Where did he hide you??

He tipped his chin up and indicated the expanse of the library with the movement of his head. “Here. In the TARDIS. His TARDIS. I was born here.”

Rose jumped at a sudden sound behind her, and the Doctor flipped her onto the cushions, gaining his feet. He was half way across the library before she could catch her breath.

Fathers and Sons (1/4) PG to R

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 01:47:10 GMT

Title: Fathers and Sons (1/4)

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: After Fear Her

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: PG this chapter

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: “I was a dad once.” He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.

Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn’t Afraid to Ask.

Excerpt in first section from Tardis Lullabye within the Unseen and In Between series.

A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work. When it's all posted, I'm going to do a post to my LJ explaining which is which and just where the hints were dropped

You’re avoiding Precious Rose.

“No, I’m not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He retrieved a wire pincer from the edge of the console. Before he could pull the bundle of wires that were his intended target from beneath the console edge, a circuit sparked, sending him scrambling out again.

Yes, you are. Yes, you are.

The Doctor scowled and stood, tossing the pincer on the console. “I am not. You know, I think I liked you much better before you decided that everything I say or do is open to your scrutiny.”

Precious Rose is not sleeping.

“Thank you,” he snapped. “I wondered.” He didn’t care if he was being rude, the TARDIS was being pushy. Had been poking and nudging at him since they’d come back from the Games.

You’re avoiding.

“Stop it!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the convex walls of the console room.

He snatched up the spare Quadratic Emitter from the top of the console, holding it against his chest to twist the circuit cover loose. The TARDIS remained silent for a solid seven-point-three-six minutes.

You opened the door.

“I know.”

Are you ready?

Giving up on the emitter, he set it down and went to the jump seat, sinking heavily into the worn cushions. He scrubbed his face with his palms, groaning. “No. Yes!” he snapped out, contradicting himself. “No. Hell, I don’t know.”

Her scolding push softened, and he felt the TARDIS wrap around him in an embrace. He closed his eyes and let his head drop to the back of the jump seat.

I can help. Show Clever Rose. Let her see.

“No,” he said, rolling his head on the seat back. “I need to do it.” The Doctor inhaled a deep breath, and felt some of the tightness in his chest release as he accepted in his head what his hearts already knew. He did need to do this, but more than that, he wanted to do it. He wanted Rose to know… not just anyone… Rose.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Rose woke from the uneasy, fitful sleep that had kept her tossing and turning for hours in the large, empty bed. With a heavy sigh, she slid her hands across the smooth sheets to touch his pillow. The surface was smooth, untouched by him.

She unfolded her legs and slid off the bed, picking up one of the Doctor’s discarded shirts to slip over her tank. It smelled like him – spice, amber and space. Rose left the sleeves unbuttoned, rolling them until they just cleared her wrists, and wrapped the shirt around her. Barefoot, she padded across the bedroom and into the hall.

A low fire burned in the library fireplace, and a memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago, slid over her. The first night she’d found the library… and found him sitting by the fire.

Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling and corner-to-corner, and books filled every available inch. Leather bound tomes four inches thick to thin paperback novels, stacked back to back. A fireplace sat on the far wall, the front face spreading at least eight feet across, with a fire glowing behind blackened metal mesh. The aroma filled the air, and wrapped around her.

A tall-backed leather chair sat facing the fire, and if it weren’t for his leg hanging over the arm, she wouldn’t have known he was there.

“You should be sleeping, Rose.”

His voice was heavy, wrapping around her, drawing her to him. Rose crossed the space and rounded the chair to look down at him. The Doctor slouched down in the chair, his elbows on the chair arms with his fingers steepled in front of his lips. His eyes darted up, and she saw the flames of the fire reflect in them as his gaze quickly shifted over her. His leather jacket was gone, and his jumper was the beautiful dark blue one she liked on him. It brought out the color of his eyes.

“So should you, don’t you think?”

His eyes lowered again and he stared past her to the fire. “I don’t sleep. Much.”

Rose sat down on the wide leather ottoman in front of his chair, tucking her hands between her knees. They sat silent, listening to the crackle of the fire behind her, and Rose watched the shadow of the flames dance across his face. The Doctor lowered his arm and extended it to her, hand open and palm up. She scooted to the edge of the ottoman and covered his hand with hers, squeezing gently.

Rose stood on the staircase landing, looking down on the massive library space. The same high-back chair sat near the fire, but tonight she saw one of his white trainers extended at the end of a long leg. Rose crossed her arms over her body, tugging the shirt tighter around her, and took the right staircase down into the library.

He looked up at her as she walked around the chair, and automatically reached out his hand. Rose squeezed his long fingers and bent over to kiss him, just a short touch of lips to lips. The Doctor reached out a foot and hooked it around the leg of the nearby ottoman, dragging it closer to the big chair. Rose smiled again, feeling another wave of nostalgia. She sat in the middle of the ottoman, folding her legs in front of her.

“Hello,” he said softly, and she loved the way he smiled. Genuine… happy that she had come to share his space with him.

“You plannin’ on sitting up all night?”

He drew a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. “No. I was coming along soon. Just…” He finished with a shrug.

His gaze shifted down and she saw a book nestled in the space between his leg and the side of the chair, as if he’d been looking at it but shoved it there when he was done. It didn't look like a novel, some of the pages seemed spaced apart as if something with thickness was sandwiched between. Like a scrap book or photograph album. She wanted to ask what it was, but knew it would lead to more questions - and beyond "So, you were a dad once..." - which seemed too abrupt.

She looked over her shoulder at the fire, inhaling deeply of the applewood. It smelled gorgeous, infusing her with comfort and ease.

"Gwendolyn," he finally said, pulling her attention back. His voice was heavy, rough... strained. "Lorelei. And Corin. Those were their names — or, the closest translation in English I can offer. My children." He cleared his throat, but his gaze was level with hers and he didn't look away.

A weight sat in the center of Rose's chest, but she wasn't sure how to define it. Whether it was grief for him, for the pain in his eyes, or pride and gratitude that he shared their names with her. Maybe it was both.

"They're beautiful names." She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to tamp down the sting in her eyes. "Wh-what was their mother's name?"

He drew in a breath through his open lips, the air hissing softly through his teeth and curled his fingers into the arm of the chair as he released her name. "Mara." His eyes shifted upward to look into some dark corner of the library ceiling. A single tear slid down his cheek.

But, he wasn't ready to stop and wasn't ready to take comfort. She wasn't touching him, but she'd opened her mind to him enough to sense that. Rose needed to be closer to him, so she slid across the smooth leather of the ottoman to sit near his knees. His gaze came back to her, his eyes shining with the flames from the fire.

"She wasn't a Time Lord." He shook his head. "She was Gallifreyan." He nodded, swallowing hard. "Were you married to her during your first... " She stumbled over the right word. "Your first life?"

The Doctor sniffed loudly, running his hand across his face. "Yes. We married while I was still training." He chuckled, but the humor was lost in the tone. "Wasn't the first time I'd angered the Cardinals, but I'd never seen them quite that infuriated before. I was young..." His voice crackled and his brow pulled down tight over his eyes. "So very young."

Rose reached out and took his hand, and his grip tightened on her fingers, almost desperate. She smiled, and a shuddered breath shifted through him. "Tell me about them?"

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

She nodded. "I'd be so proud if you told me."

His expression brightened, and even though his eyes still shined bright, he smiled. Still holding her hand, he stood, and drew her off the ottoman. He retrieved the book from where it had slipped between the cushions in the chair and led her to the couch. A tall light with a tasseled shade stood behind the sofa, and he reached behind them to turn it on as they sat. The glow was soft, spreading out in a circle around the space. The Doctor sat in the corner of the couch and she nestled into the space beside him. With a slightly less than steady hand, he opened the book.

She had been right. It was a photograph album, but the photographs looked so much different than the ones she was accustomed to on earth. Digital imagery held nothing to the exquisite detail, color and depth of the images. They almost looked three-dimensional, like if she reached out to touch one her hand would slip into whatever moment had been captured.

The first picture was of a young man and woman, and if Rose had to put a human age to them, she'd say no more than their mid-twenties. His hair was so fair it appeared almost white and he was attractive in an average man sort of way. Nothing exceptional, but he was handsome. The woman was beautiful, with rich brown hair and elegant features.

"Is this you?" she asked, pointing to the image. She looked up at him, smiling... trying to see some remnants of his first face in the one he had now. The high angle of the cheekbones might be the same, but other than that, nothing else remained. "Your hair is so blonde! It's almost white."

"It turned white eventually, before I regenerated."

He turned the page and there were more photographs of them together, sometimes alone and sometimes with others. And then there was an image of Mara alone, her cheeks stained pink with embarrassment as she stood sideways, her stomach protruding with an unborn child. Rose's throat tightened as she remembered what he had told her not long ago... that this could never be a reality for them.

"She's beautiful," Rose managed to say, proud of herself that the small wave of heartache didn't come through in her voice. "You both look really, really happy."

"We were. Probably too happy. I forgot that it wouldn't last." He turned the pages again, and showed her picture after picture of his family, and as they went further into the album, the family grew.

Two girls and a boy, and in almost every picture, the children were in some state of climbing their father - the Doctor. They hung off his shoulders, or sat in his lap, or clung to his legs. One of the girls was as blonde as her father, and her curls hung down her back in long, thick ringlets. That was Gwendolyn, he told her. Lorelei had dark hair, like her mother, and brooding eyes in a pale blue. The eyes reminded her of the first face she ever loved.

"Can I ask you a question?"

His arm had slipped behind her as they both leaned over the album, and his hand stroked up her spine when he looked at her. The tension had eased around his eyes the more he talked about his family, and it no longer emanated from him like a buffer field. "Of course."

"Genetics... how does that work? If you are a different person, what, thirteen times in your life? When you... if you... have children... do they have just the DNA of that body or..."

"It's complicated, but in essence, the potential of every body I will have is engrained in me from birth. The strongest is whatever body I am in, which is probably where Gwendolyn got her hair..." He smiled, looking down at the pictures. "But, other bits can bleed through. Why?"

Rose touched the edge of the picture with Lorelei. "She has your eyes. Your previous eyes."

Corin, the only boy and the youngest, she couldn't place at all. A mass of unruly curls in bright red with dark green eyes and freckles. Rose laughed. "He has your freckles! And look... ginger. There's hope for you yet, Doctor."

He laughed and more of the painful buffer around him eased away. Rose couldn't deny the sudden urge to hug him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn't hesitate to hug her, holding on tight for several minutes. When she pulled away, she touched his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Tell me more?"

The Doctor smiled and nodded, focusing again on the album. "My boy was the only one to join the Academy. Because they weren't Loomed, there was no guarantee that I would pass on the necessary regeneration gene."

Rose sat now with the album open in her lap, and the Doctor looked over her shoulder to point out different things in different photos. The images progressed on until Mara was gray, and her face showed the signs of progressing age. There was some aging on the Doctor, but not to the same degree. They were surrounded by the adult versions of their children, and what appeared to be the next generation. Men now stood with Gwendolyn and Lorelei, and small children sat on the ground or in laps. Lorelei held a baby in her arms, and stood behind the Doctor, her eyes intent on her father.

Corin, now a grown man with his curls tamed but still definitely ginger, stood on the edge of the group with his expression subdued and his eyes stern. Something about the way he stood apart, and the rigidity of his body, made Rose sad. He wasn't the bright eyed, smiling boy that had clung to his father and laughed with his freckled face turned to the sun.

"That's what the Academy does to you if you let it," the Doctor explained, his voice dropping again, losing some of the lightness of moments before. "It takes the life from you. They teach you to be emotionless, to be analytical and dull. To observe, and not be involved. It killed me to see them suck him dry."

Rose watched his face as he spoke, and shook her head. "I can't see you like that. You didn't let it happen."

"Probably why I married. It was one more thing they told me I couldn't do, couldn't be... and I refused to live with a stick up my arse."

Rose snorted, trying to stifle her laughter. Such a statement coming from him seemed so out of place. He smiled, and she knew he had at least partially said it to get her to smile. She curled into him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and laid her forehead against the side of his throat. The album balanced now between them and Rose ran her fingertip along the family photograph. "I like this one. I think we should, I don't know, hang it or something."

"Really?"

She nodded against his skin. "Yeah. Just cuz it was a long time ago doesn't mean it shouldn't be remembered." Rose drew back so she could see his face and he turned his head to look at her. She skimmed her gaze over his features, smiling at the tiny freckles that dotted his skin. From just standing distance, they were almost unnoticeable, but this close, she loved to pick out each one. "Hang it. And maybe someday you can hang a picture of me, too."

His eyes darkened and Rose immediately regretted saying anything. It was the silent truth between them... no matter how long she stayed, someday he would not have her beside him. Tears pricked at her eyes, but before they could pool, she closed the space between their lips and kissed him — just pressing her mouth to his to keep either of them from saying anything more.

She broke free and nestled her forehead against his neck again before he saw her eyes and managed to sniffle only softly. "When did you start traveling? You didn't travel then, did you?"

His hand curled around her far shoulder and he pulled her tighter to him for just a moment before turning his attention back to the album. "After Mara died. But, I didn't exactly leave with the permission of the Council."

Rose jerked back, remembering something from his journals. "Oh, I remember! This TARDIS... you stole her. You just took her and took off with her. Why did you have to steal her?"

"I needed to leave Gallifrey for a time." He touched the image, indicating the baby in Lorelei's arms. "This is Susan. My granddaughter."

Rose giggled softly. "You're a gramp."

The Doctor beamed. "Yes, I am and proud of it. Six times over."

She shook her head. "It amazes me, it really does. Okay... so this is Susan. What's she got to do with you leaving Gallifrey?"

Tiny lines pinched at the corners of the Doctor's eyes, and she knew whatever thoughts he had were not ones he wanted. "Susan was different. She couldn't stay there... on a planet that despised her for what she was — what I'd made her to be — so, it was my responsibility to take her away." His expression hardened, his lips leveling until there was no sign of the smile moments before. "The Council denied me, and so I did it myself."

"What was she? What could she be that would make them hate her?"

His eyes slid to her, and a muscle along his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together. Finally, he parted his lips and drew in a breath. "Susan was human."

Everything Rose Wanted to Know About Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn't Afraid to Ask - Lesson 6

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 01:36:39 GMT

Title: Everything Rose Wanted to Know About Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn't Afraid to Ask

Lesson: Six

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Genre: Romance

Setting: Throughout Series Two beginning after Age of Steel, with references back to other stories in the series, ie: Two Steps Forward, One Back and Driving Lessons. This particular story just before Fear Her

Note: This is a series within the Unseen and In Between series, in that these are multiple short stories that aren't bunched together, but are linked.

Summary: She knew he wouldn't answer a barrage of questions, so she slides them in whenever she can. And when she puts all the pieces together, she is blown away by the BIG answers he never actually said.

This is the last in the Everything Rose Wanted to Know... lessons. Next will be the answers. Coming soon... I swear.

This one comes with a tissue warning - consider this your only warning

"Is that what Cassandra the Skin Flap meant when she said humans weren't humans anymore? They were mutations?"

"You remember her saying that?" the Doctor asked, draping his coat over one of the coral beams in the control room.

"Yeah, but I guess I just didn't think about it until now. I mean... some of the... combinations we saw were just... bizarre."

"Did you see the baby with the prickly things on his..." The Doctor waved his hand over his head, his eyes wide and a grin on his face.

"Yeah! Oh, God." Rose shuddered as she hopped into the jump seat, settling in while he prepared the TARDIS for flight. They'd visited a new colony on the outskirts of a nebula where the colonists prided themselves on the copious crossing of species to create a new society. "Wouldn't want to be on the birthing end of that one." She shuddered again.

"Well, I'm sure certain accommodations have to be made in some cases. Just as the..." He puffed his cheeks, dipping his chin. "Act of conception requires some interesting approaches from time to time, the gestation and birthing have to be adjusted for the particular mutation."

Rose shook her head. "Did you see that..." She couldn't even describe the alien she had seen. So, she held up her arm to indicate height, then width, and a big horn protruding from his forehead.

"The red one?"

"Yes!" She clapped her hands and pointed at him. "What was he?"

"New life," he said with a shrug. "He was half Sentaulain, half Nubi Ranif Corabora Piff. Should be interesting. His mate is three-quarters human, one quarter Torabelian. She had those lovely brow ridges that were painted different colors."

"Oh, sure. She was gorgeous." Rose pulled her legs up into the jump seat to sit cross-legged, wrapping her hands around her ankles. "What a wonderful idea. Just let anyone from anywhere come and just..."

"Breed to their heart's content?" the Doctor said with a smirk, looking up from the monitor.

"Well, yeah, that too. But, I mean... they all just lived together. No fighting. No wars. They all spoke the same language, they all just got along. It was great. We can't even manage to get along with the other countries on Earth, let alone other species."

"Oh, that come eventually." The Doctor came around the console to stand in front of her, leaning back on the edge, ankles crossed and hands pushed into his pockets. "You remember what I said about Captain Jack and the 51st century?"

"That by then, the human race was out there dancin' with anyone and everyone."

The Doctor smirked again, and she wondered if he was remembering their pseudo-dance in the basement of that hospital in World War II England. "Right. By the 51st Century, humans had spread out to all parts of the galaxy, covering every corner of the Mutter's Spiral... and they'd enjoyed themselves quite a bit along the way. The human race wasn't British or American or Italian or East Asian Alliance... they were just humans."

Rose leaned back, releasing a soft sigh. "That does sound nice."

The Doctor swirled away, flipping some switches on the maintenance boards... she was learning, slowly... but she was learning... before reading some swirling text on the monitor. She'd also figured out that the control read outs on the screen were in Gallifreyan, which was why the TARDIS didn't translate. It was his language, why translate? He hadn't told her that... but, she was also good at jigsaw puzzles.

"Around the end of the 52nd Century, humans began to actively manipulate their DNA so that it would be receptive to cross-species breeding. Course, some had happened before that in cases where the two species were compatible enough to allow a pregnancy to term. Wouldn't have happened between a human and a Nubi Ranif Corabora Piff, for example." He glanced up, tipping his head toward the door. "By the time this lot decided to create a colony, just about anyone could breed with anyone..." He pulled a face. "Once you were willing to look past horns and other hard, protruding parts."

"I kind of like hard, protruding parts," Rose said softly, sticking the point of her tongue out the corner of her lips.

The Doctor leaned sideways to see her around the engine piston chamber. "Feeling a little cheeky tonight, Miss Tyler?"

"Maaaaaybe."

"Well, hold that thought. I just have some minor system scans to initiate." He slipped on his specs and looked at her over the top. "You can go on, if you'd like. I won’t be long."

Rose shook her head, shifting into a more comfortable position. "No, I'll stay with you. S'at okay?"

"Of course."

Rose liked to watch him in the control room. There was something so contrary and appealing to his geeky (though, he hated the word) and absentminded professor appearance getting down and dirty with mechanics. But, after a few minutes, he wasn't digging around in TARDIS parts... he was just punching in codes and watching the monitor screen. Rose sighed...

"What about Gallifreyans?"

"I wondered how long it would take you to ask." He didn’t look up, but grinned.

"Oh, well, if I'm getting too predictable..." She swirled a bit of blonde hair, trying to feign boredom as she looked up at the ceiling.

He left his scans and came back to the jump seat, leaning against the console again. Rose looked at him from the corner of her eyes and saw the slight, smug smirk and gave up her act. She unfolded her legs and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them to hug them to her. "So?"

"Oh, sure," he answered as he crossed his arms over his chest, going back to the question she hadn't fully asked. "There were a few Gallifreyans over the centuries who, for whatever reason and in whatever situation, cross-species bred with other similar species. There are several humanoid species in the universe, and probably a third of them or so were compatible enough at least for conception. But, the instances were few and far between since most Gallifreyans, unless they were Time Lords, never left Gallifrey." He squinched his face, making his specs go lopsided off his cheek. "Course, there was that whole No one is as good as Gallifrey, so why would you bother mentality."

"You don't think that." His eyes shifted to her. He didn't refute or deny her statement, so she continued. "You're always going on about how humans are thick and stupid, but then just as quick you'll tell someone how wonderful we all are."

"Potential,” he said simply. “I know your potential."

"I get the impression that you were a bit of a rebel." Rose leaned forward, licking her lips. "Were you a rebel, Doctor?" She dropped her voice to her best seductive level.

His eyes stayed on her lips, but then a light flashed and something beeped and he cleared his throat before moving away again. "Gamma influx filtering nearly complete. Just a quick diagnostic of the temporal recyclers and we're all set."

"What about Time Lords?"

The Doctor raised his head and focused on some unspecified spot across the console room. "Once. Well, once that the Time Lord in question actually admitted the child was his and took responsibility. I suppose it may have happened at other times with other Time Lords, but no one admitted to it. The unspoken sin is the sin without punishment."

"Was that the Time Lord who was..." She knew he hadn't used the word when he told her about the Time Lord before, but it seemed to fit. "... punished? Had his TARDIS taken away and everything?"

The Doctor nodded, looking down again at his controls, his fingers slowly swirling a green crystal ball that Rose had yet to determine the purpose of. "Yep." He popped the 'p'. "Before my time when it all happened. But, I hear it was quite the hullabaloo since he hid the child and mother from the Council for years. He just never went to Gallifrey. His consequences stood as warning to us all."

"What happened?"

He looked up at her. "I told you. He was punished, had his TARDIS taken away, couldn't regenerate."

"No." Rose unfolded her legs and stood, walking over to him. A green light flashed and something beeped. The last scan was done, she figured. "What happened to the child?"

The Doctor's gaze settled on her, and Rose found herself holding her breath. She couldn't explain why. "Once the Council knew, Marnal accepted his punishment without argument and without plea, providing that he could bring his human lover and their child to Gallifrey."

"He loved her, then, yeah? He must have to give up everything."

The Doctor sniffed and looked away. "Like I said, before my time. Just heard the stories." He looked up again, and there was a tinge of sadness around his eyes and his smile had slid away. "But, yes. I imagine he loved her very much."

Rose smiled and nodded. He flipped a final switch and the engines lowered to an idle hum. They would stay like this until morning… relatively speaking. She stifled a yawn and held her hand out to him. He didn’t take her hand but put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his side as they left the console room. They entered the hall, the lights already dimming for nighttime, and as they stepped into their bedroom, Rose stopped short.

“Rose?”

She hitched her chin up to look at him, her pulse suddenly pounding violently in her throat. Rose blinked, looking at him. Intense, dark eyes stared at her… that face, that sexy, rumbled hair… him…

“Rose!”

He reached for her, his fingers nearly touching her cheek before she shook her head and stepped back. She didn’t want him to see her thoughts… not yet. Not so purely and honestly as they were in her head right now. Not if they were the wrong thoughts… wrong for him.

His hand hovered near her cheek, but he didn’t approach. “Rose,” he said again, her name a plea to answer.

“Doctor… “ She swallowed hard, her eyes burning because she’d forgotten to blink. Blindly, she found his hand and gripped it in both hers, trying desperately to temper her emotions but finding it nearly impossible when he looked at her with so much worry and concern so evident on his face. She tried again, hoping her voice would stay with her long enough. “Doctor… can you and I… could we… could we have a baby?”

His gaze slid away almost immediately. “No.”

“Why not? How do you —”

He raised his head, and the cold firmness of his eyes stopped her. He swallowed, his jaw working slightly before he said, “I know.”

Rose nodded, but couldn’t hold back the choking sob that exploded in her chest. She just kept nodded, sucking in air, blinking the tears down her cheeks. He touched her face, stroked her cheeks, and pulled her against him, wrapping her hard in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.“

“I do,” he whispered in her ear. He shushed softly in her ear, his hand stroking over her hair as they rocked each other in the dim hall of their TARDIS.