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rabid1stDAMN AND BLAST!
Once again my chapter is too big to post. What the hell has gotten into LJ, lately?
Apparently...it is stealing comments, too.
Anyway, whatever! This means...two updates for you, my lovely readers.
THIS IS PART 2 of CHAPTER 25
Go to the following link for PART 1 and read it first...Also, you can leave a comment there with no trouble, it seems.
CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE of Chapter 25
Then, come back...for PART TWO...SIGH!
DISHEVELED
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
Ratings: Adult +
Spoilers: Runaway Bride. But this is set in S4...so Donna is featured. Martha is long gone in my universe.
Beta Babes: Keswindhover, larielromeniel, and thewinterqueen also, Measi and queenrikki_hp. With a special shout-out to Lil and Jei for their YIM help.
Summary: Rose is back. But she isn't exactly herself. Trapped in the machinery of the TARDIS without a body to call her own, she and the Doctor face a number of challenges on the way to their “forever.”
Disclaimer: If only Russell T. Davies or the BBC would return my calls. But sadly, they are busy creating the best show on television. And I own nothing associated with that show. I am borrowing (okay...stealing) characters and situations for my own pleasure and hopefully yours.
PART TWENTY-FIVE Continues...
“You haven't told me what that is,” Donna asked, unconsciously parroting Rose. “Or explained how it justified my breaking two nails and a heel, ruining this blouse and nearly getting shot in the head?”
“This, Donna,” the Doctor said, careful to hold the device by the cloth-wrapped end, “is a psychograft. A particularly nasty piece of psychic paraphernalia. The mere possession of a psychograft is a hanging offense in most of the civilized universe. Well, I say hanging. Quartering. Flaying. Tickling.” He grimaced over the last one, “Horrible way to go, tickling. Dehydrating. Electrocuting. In the end, it doesn't matter how the authorities put a period to your existence, I suppose, you're just as dead afterward--unless you're not. Funny that. When a particular capital punishment isn't particularly fatal to your species. Someone sets about killing you and you shrug it off. I've been drowned and electrocuted...oh...dozens of times. And once, on Peli Horgini, the authorities tried to kill Rose and I by feeding us chocolate truffles.”
“I remember that,” Rose said. “You kept asking for a toffee center.”
“Death by chocolate,” Donna said quellingly, “beats dying in a swamp.”
“But we didn't die,” he pointed out, “didn't even come close. Point is,” he continued, setting the psychograft down to waffle a hand at her, “My earlier point, that is, not the one about dying. Or the other one about capital punishment." He lost his train of thought and had to backtrack over the conversation. "Yes, right. My point was that you can get up to all sorts of trouble with a psychograft. But having it is vitally important to us at this juncture. And yes, it was well worth the scrambling haste of our retreat and the cost of your blouse.”
“You're buying me a new one. First Debenhams we come to.”
“Money well spent,” he said, fishing a non-sonic screwdriver from the pile of junk on the floor. He used the tip of the tool to lever open a flip-up panel on the console.
“So...? What does it do, this psycho-whatsit?”
“Cassandra, this bint from the end of Earth, had one,” Rose told her. “Let's you use someone's body as your own.”
“It facilitates psychic communion,” the Doctor explained. “Specifically, it allows one being to overlay their consciousness on another being, in much the same way that a plasma wraith will graft onto and influence a medium.”
“A plasma...?”
“A ghost,” he said shortly. “We've got ghosts in our machinery.”
“There's no such thing as ghosts.”
“Certainly there are,” the Doctor corrected her. “On any given street corner, you'll likely be surrounded by half a dozen plasma wraiths or other transdimensional entities, all going about their spectral business. You'll rarely be troubled by them. Even the psychic folks are rarely troubled. And we certainly shouldn't be having trouble with them in here. The TARDIS exists in a state of temporal grace. Almost no chance for a haunting.”
“Almost?”
“Well, it's not unheard of.” As if checking for stubble, he stroked a hand along his cheek, tipping his head to the side. “And there have been a few minor, very slight, hiccups in the security systems lately.” His other hand gravitated to the monitor. Like a preoccupied lover, he traced one finger along the screen edge and absently fondled a few levers. “Mostly, when I've left the shields down.” His gaze darted to the shield controls, double checking they'd been activated. “She's gone a bit funny, though. Ever since....”
“Since...?”
Lost in thought, the Doctor didn't respond to Donna's prompting. He stared blankly into the middle distance. He seemed to be listening to something a long distance away. Donna was just about to prod him in the third waistcoat button when, shaking himself like a wet dog, he focused on her again.
“I was going to say ever since this particular disaster we avoided a bit back,” he went on. “But, I suddenly realized I can't be sure of when it all started. She's been giving me the cold shoulder for some time now, I think. I'd like to lay it at the feet of the Master.”
“Your old school teacher?”
“Not likely. An old enemy. Rival. Friend. You knew him as Mr. Saxon. But I just don't know if I can blame him for this. That's the problem, isn't it? I just don't know. I've check and rechecked her synaptic relays. Completely overhauled the spatial interface. Everything seems to be working. Thought for a while it must be psychological. She was quite attached to Rose, you know? But now, I've started having dreams. This,” he picked up the psychograft and waved it at her, “will let me find out what she's really thinking.”
“What your ship is thinking?”
“Ask an awful lot of questions, don't you?” Rose muttered.
“She's not a ship in the ordinary sense--wires and plastic and steel. She's an empathic entity. There's a living being under all this hardware.” He indicated the controls with a waft of his hand. “Generally we communicate via touch and, of course, the computer interface. But from time to time a Time Lord has to re-establish his rapport with his TARDIS. Before the war, that sort of thing would have been done on my home world. There would be dozens of certified technicians lurking about in case something went wrong. But needs must. We will make do. I've parked the TARDIS near human habitation, if anything untoward happens you can walk out.”
“Something could go wrong? Like what?”
“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it. It's only a precaution. The psychograft is nearly foolproof. It will help my mind overlay hers. I'll be able to wander around in the doodads...circuits...software...find out what's making her tetchy.”
“So, you're planning to chat up your spaceship?”
“Yep.”
“Does this have anything to do with that perverted mounting thing you do?”
“What mounting thing?”
“You know what I mean. The fondling, the petting. You climb all over the console when you program it,” Donna nodded at the time rotor. “You practically make love to those levers.”
He looked momentarily nonplussed, but then said, very breathlessly, “Yes, well, as I said, she's an empath. She can sense me here. But it is getting harder and harder to break through her air of distraction and really communicate. Theoretically, the more physical contact I have with the interface,” he bounced over to affectionately smack one of the walls, “the solid part of her, you understand, the stronger our connection. Flesh to flesh, as it were. But, she hasn't been responding very readily to my overtures. Or, I suppose, I haven't been listening properly. This,” he picked up the amber crystal and waved it again, “will help us get back in sync. It will link my mind to hers, bring us face to face in my mind.”
“Sounds boring. Mind if I don't stick around for that?”
“Not at all. Go to your room if you like. Change your clothes. Do your nails. Or nap. Or fix us a sandwich. Oh, there's an idea. I could do with a nosh. Peanut butter and corned beef? Easy on the horseradish, heavy on the gherkins.” He touched his chest and grimaced theatrically. “Got a bit of heartburn.”
“I'm not making you a sandwich,” Donna said, “Do I look like your mother?”
The Doctor glanced up at her, considering. “No, not really. She was a bit shorter and plumper and she had a tattoo over her left eye.” He fanned out his fingers and placed them over his own eye to illustrate the location of the tattoo. “Of a Miltigian Dragon King. Very fetching.”
“You're kidding me?”
“Yes, I am,” he said, stretching to reach a snip of wiring. “It used to give me the shudders.”
“I meant about your sandwich. Who eats peanut butter and corned beef?” Donna groused. “You aren't pregnant, are you? Because the last thing I need is...”
The Doctor straightened, casting her a pained look. “No, I am not preg...” he began, only to break off in alarm as events spiraled out of control around him.
His hip had hit a dial which shifted slightly, sending his sonic screwdriver rolling into the psychograft. The crystal device wobbled, spun and started to slide toward the floor. The Doctor's dismayed yelp galvanized Donna to action. He immediately uttered a warning squeak, but it came too late to stop her from springing forward, hand outstretched. She caught the crystal before it could shatter into pieces on, or disappear through, the metal floor grates.
As Donna's fingers closed around the shaft of the device, the world swirled around Rose as if she were being sucked down a drain. She felt herself yanked across the room. Everything blurred for a second. When her vision cleared, she was standing in front of the Doctor and he was staring at her with wild-eyed surmise, really seeing her.
A surge of heat ignited at her core and the air pressed on her skin. Life. She was alive. “Oh, Doctor,” she cried and threw herself against him.
He caught her awkwardly, inexplicably dodging her first attempts to kiss him. Too inflamed by her own passions to give much thought to why he was squirming, Rose concentrated on her own ungainly body. She felt off balance and too tall. Nothing seemed to match up with the Doctor, even without his obsessive shoving at her. But she managed to align her lips to his and held on to the back of his head certain he would melt into the embrace in a moment. He continued to put up a fight. She took a brief break for a breath and he again tried wriggling free of her grasp. Sputtering in alarm, he endeavored, none-too-gently, to pry her from around his neck.
He managed, finally, to insinuate an arm between them and lever her away. “Donna? Stop it! Take control of yourself,” he demanded.
Rose staggered to one side, confused and hurt by his attitude. But, at least, aware of the nature of his problem. He simply didn't recognize her. She'd changed, of course. “It's me, luv,” she said, urgently soothing him. Unfortunately she returned to the embrace before she had completely processed his rejection or thought to explain further.
“Luv?” he mumbled, around her tongue, prodding the offending appendage with his own in a fruitless effort to defend himself.
His fingers clawed at her hand, seeking to wrest the psychograft from her grasp. She had forgotten it. Of course, that explained his confusion. She must have been drawn in by the device. She shifted her grip on him, easing back a little to tell him to relax. But the Doctor seized on this opportunity and pried the psychograft away from her. There was a brief flash of amber light and Rose was thrown free of her new body.
Swirled to the far side of the room, she found it difficult to recover from the sudden attack of living. It took a few minutes to orient to her gaseous state again. While she struggled to make sense of her recent experience, she saw another woman kissing the Doctor. What was her name? Donna? Yes. She saw Donna and the Doctor acting out a romantic farce. The embrace Rose had instigated degraded almost immediately into a slapping tussle worthy of any situation comedy.
“What are you doing? Get off me,” Donna ordered shrilly. “I said, 'get off!'” Wrenching free of the Doctor's desperate grip, she drew back her arm and slapped him across the face.
“Wha...?” he whimpered, palm going to his reddened cheek. But he quickly gave rein to his own sense of outrage. “You kissed me,” he accused. His eyes narrowed to slits as his expression became one of offended hauteur.
Both of them seemed horrified by the memory. They fell to spitting and sputtering, wiping their mouths on the back of their hands and generally fussing like preteen siblings after a suggestion of affection. Despite her own shock, Rose couldn't help smiling over this juvenile display. She felt absurdly grateful, in hindsight, for the Doctor's utter rejection of her advances. Obviously he felt no physical attraction for his latest traveling companion. Donna might be a friend but she wasn't a romantic interest. Rose hadn't been replaced, which, she realized, was what the TARDIS had told her from the start.
“What could have possessed you to...?” Donna began, but the Doctor cut her off.
“A better question,” he said, “a far better question is: What could have possessed you?” He turned in a slow circle, amber crystal held before him like a divining rod. “I knew it,” he muttered. “I knew there was something going on. She's been trying to tell me. Lulling me off to sleep. That dream...? There's someone else on board.“
Shivering, Donna looked around nervously. “There's someone on board?” she asked, fear overshadowing her temper.
“Or something,” he suggested, eyebrows lifting. “An alien presence." He nodded knowingly. "The TARDIS can warn me about things like that. Invasion. She can manifest in my mind, or even outside it if she draws in enough power. But I don't always understand what she's trying to tell me. It all comes down to metaphor and simile, really, random images and vague feelings. She's only empathic, after all. Not telepathic.”
“I don't know what any of that means,” Donna protested.
“It means she can't just come out and tell the Doctor I'm here,” Rose said as she maneuvered close to them again. “Doctor,” she went on when she was staring straight into his eyes, “It's Rose. I am right here. The TARDIS pulled me across the void. Because you need me, I think. She is trying to bring me back to you, but we can't do it alone. You have to help us.” Noticing the Doctor had gone quite still, almost as if he were listening to her, Rose placed her ghostly fingertips to his cheek. She focused her energies into firm intention, as she had when using Mary Alice's hand to write, and spoke into his mind, “Help me. Help me find a way to talk to you.”
He'd heard her. She was certain of it. He stumbled backward, flailing as he jerked away from her. Catching himself on the chair, he clutched it and stood, panting and trembling and looking quite dazed.
“What? What is it?” Donna asked. Alarmed by his reaction, she looked ready to run, but instead offered him a hand on his shoulder.
His mouth worked silently as if he'd forgotten how to speak. But then, quite suddenly, he brightened and, beaming out a smile, said, “Right, then...Donna?” He cast an inquiring glance at his companion and held forth the psychograft. “I'm going to need you to grab onto this again.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Donna exclaimed, backpedaling. “No! Absolutely not! I'm not letting your spaceship possess me so the two of you can get up to whatever kinky alien shenanigans you find natural. No flippin' way!”
“I'm not planning any sort of...shenanigans,” the Doctor protested, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip over the word. “Honestly, the mind you have.” He shook his head, appalled by the very idea.
“There was kissing,” Donna reminded him. “Who knows what else might happen?” She leaned forward menacingly. “You listen to me, space boy. You are not using my body for your little psycho-experiment and that's final.”
The Doctor took one threatening step toward her and held her gaze for a glaring moment. He looked as if he meant to force her to comply. But, when she showed no sign of being impressed by this, he turned away with a cheerful air of nonchalance.
“Fine. Whatever. We'll just wait then, shall we? Let it take random possession of you whenever it likes,” he said, putting the crystal down again. “Last time something like this happened....” he paused to run a thumb along his bottom lip, jaw set and gaze contemplative, then said, “Poor Tegan.”
“What? What happened to her?” Donna asked suspiciously.
“Hmmm? Oh, nothing. Well, something. But she survived,” he said, flashing a wicked grin. “Course she had a bit of breakdown later. Still, all better now! Living in Sydney, last I heard. Hardly ever has flashbacks...except at the holidays. And stoplights.”
“Oh, give it up,” Rose sighed. “She can't be that gullible.”
“Promise me there will be no kissing?” Donna said, edging forward.
“On the other hand, you know her better than I do.”
“Well, I don't know, do I?” the Doctor asked. “It seemed to come out kissing, didn't it?” He spoke to the room in general. “Donna and I would appreciate it if you didn't come out kissing.”
Donna swept another glance around the room, hugging herself as she whispered, “Can it hear us?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Possibly.”
“I can hear you,” Rose said, smiling at him. “Though I'm not sure how that works. I don't have real ears drums for sound. I think maybe the TARDIS is hearing you electronically and passing it on.”
“What would I have to do?” Donna asked the Doctor.
“Just what you did before,” he told her, “Hold onto the crystal. Whatever this entity is, it obviously is yearning to come through.”
“You won't let it stay, will you?” Donna asked.
“I promise. I won't let it hurt you. I'm trying to get rid of it. I'll run it off again as soon as I know what it wants. Besides a snog, I mean. No shenanigans.”
Recognizing Donna's fears, Rose experienced a rush of sympathy for her. She remembered how weird it had felt having Cassandra use her body, an alien consciousness pressing down on her awareness. It was a startling violation being shuffled to the back of your own mind, having your body used like a puppet. And Rose hadn't really objected to kissing the Doctor or jumping on him, as she'd done later. Cassandra had been right about her liking it. She'd only been upset about Cassandra hogging all the new and wonderful sensations.
Now, of course, she had a lot more sympathy, for the disembodied--the Gelth and even Cassandra. But she wasn't planning on hijacking Donna's body. She resolved, like the Doctor, to keep the physical contact to a minimum. She wished she could reassure Donna things would be different this time, but she saw no way to do so without entering her mind.
Floating over to her, Rose gave her a soothing, if ghostly, pat and said, “I promise not to misuse your body. And to give it back to you straight away. As soon as the Doctor knows I'm here.”
“Fine,” Donna said, “But make it quick, okay?”
Rose thought the woman was addressing her, until the Doctor responded, “Quick as I can,” he said. “Wait.” He darted around the console and returned clutching some wires. “I can plug the psychograft into the TARDIS. That way we can time it all to, say, five minutes?”
“Five minutes,” Donna agreed. “And then you'll stop it?”
“I won't have to. The TARDIS will. Just a few minor instructions,” he tapped a couple of keys and consulted the monitor, “and she'll pull the plug automatically.”
“I'll have to talk fast,” Rose said. “And you'll have to think faster,” she told the Doctor.
Anticipation made her feel as bubbly as iced champagne as she watched him wire the crystal and silver device into the TARDIS control panel. When all was ready, he solemnly offered the psychograft to Donna. She didn't want to take it. Rose saw her searching his face for some sign of reassurance. Whatever she saw there comforted her enough. Stepping forward, she drew a deep breath and, closing her eyes, wrapped her fingers around the crystal. Rose pantomimed breathing in with her.
And exhaled through Donna's mouth. Opening her borrowed eyes, she saw the Doctor standing in front of her. The urge to throw herself at him, nearly overwhelmed her, again. She wanted nothing more than to hold him. Donna's heart started pounding in her ears. She could feel her wide smile tugging at her cheeks. She raised her free hand to her mouth and traced the grin on her full lips. She was smiling. She had a body. She was alive, again.
“Doctor,” she said, quickly coming to the point this time. “It's me. It's Rose.”
“Rose?” he breathed her name reverently. To her surprise, instead of rushing to embrace her, he scowled. “What? WHAT?”
“I know,” she agreed, taking a half-step toward him. “The TARDIS brought me back, somehow, across the void.”
“The TARDIS?” he exclaimed, still not processing it. “The TARDIS brought you back?”
“Yes, I don't know how. I just started...dissolving one day. Soon nobody could see me, not even my mum,” she blurted. “It was awful. I disappeared.” Her voice cracked as the horror of it came back to her. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was so frightened. I'm so frightened Doctor. Help me.”
This plea brought a reaction, but not the one Rose was expecting. “Who are you?” he snarled, closing the distance between them with two long strides. Sounding furious and looking every inch the vengeful god, he wrenched her arm up painfully, twisting her elbow. “Tell me who you are!” he thundered into her face.
“Rose,” she yelped. “Honestly, it's me. First word you ever said to me? Run! Last words, uhm...my name. Right? But that wasn't what you meant to say, was it? You said,” she quoted him, “'And I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it'...yeah? And then you bollocksed the job, didn't you? Lousy timing for a Time Lord. How hard is it, really, when you think about it, to tell me you love me? We both know you do.”
“Do I?” he said. Mouth gaping, he stared at her, glittering eyes searching her face. A brief ray of hope lit him up from the inside and a tiny sigh escaped him, “Rose?”
“Hello,” she said, smiling at him.
Releasing her, he shuffled back a bit. His hands opened and closed, longing to take hold of her again but he didn't dare make contact, not when every fiber of his being was clamoring for her. “No, it can't be.”
“She said you didn't want to believe,” Rose said. “The TARDIS, she's been telling you I'm back, hasn't she?”
“I have to think.” He clutched at his hair. Spinning, first in one direction and then the other, he said, “If this is true. If it's true.... The TARDIS brought you back.” He was no longer questioning it but instead weighing the meaning of her words. “How?”
“Through the door in my head,” Rose said.
“The Vortex?”
“No, it's not.”
“No, it's not,” he agreed, and she could see he'd thought of something. “It can't be, can it? I took the Vortex out of you. And died. I died. Because nobody is meant to do that, have the Vortex running through them. But you didn't die, did you, Rose? And you're not dead now, are you?”
“I don't think so,” Rose said. “But I might as well be. I don't have a body anymore.”
“She couldn't bring a physical being through the void, of course,” he muttered. “Not without shattering the fabric of space/time, destroying both worlds.”
“Like you said,” Rose nodded.
“Like I said. Oh, I'm missing something quite obvious,” he exclaimed, pounding his knuckles against his forehead. “It's right there on the tip of my brain.”
“She...the TARDIS...said I need to be reintegrated.”
“Reintegrated?” he said, the blank expression on his face showing the word itself meant nothing to him. "A Time Lord will integrate with a TARDIS. Could she mean...?"
“I'm not a Time Lord. She said I'm a... Oh, what's the word she keeps using? An...interface.”
“Interface?” He lifted his chin until his astonished gaze intersected her puzzled one. “You're...? Oh! Oh, Yes!” He cried. A huge grin burst onto his gloomy countenance as the weight of years of sorrow fell away from him in an instant. Because that word, interface, obviously meant quite a lot to him. “Of course! Of course, you are. And I have been such a complete and utter fool!”
“You're not a fool. You're the smartest, cleverest person in the universe. And you've figured this out haven't you? I knew you would.”
“There was nothing to figure out. You've been telling me all along. You told me the very first time I asked. Right to my face. Ha! You looked into the TARDIS...”
“And the TARDIS looked into me,” she said.
“Yes, she did,” he confirmed, bounding across the room to give one of the Y-struts a bear hug of exuberant affection. “She certainly did.” Whirling around to face Rose, he asked, “And what did she see? When she looked into you? I never asked. You never said.”
“Uh...” Rose thought back. “That I wanted to...find you, rescue you.”
“Save me. Yes. You wanted exactly what she wanted.”
“I suppose,” Rose agreed, tentatively at first but then said, with greater conviction, “Yes, I did. We were of one mind on it. You were important to us both.”
“One,” he repeated, awed by the simplicity of it. “One mind. How could you be separated? She made you part of her, plugged you in, the same way she might plug in a new Helmut Regulator. She looked into you, found a way to open a portal in your mind and taught you how to channel the Vortex, just like plugging a printer into your computer at home.” He thrust a splay-fingered hand toward the Time Rotor. “This,” he explained. “All of this machinery and circuitry, that's what it is...an interface for the TARDIS. A way for her to relate to me. And you? You were a better way, Rose.”
“But...doesn't that mean...all this time? I'm not, not human, not really Rose,” she said, remembering her mother's warning about losing her identity if she stayed with the Doctor. Her pleading gaze sought his. “Is it her you love? The TARDIS?”
“Oh, no, no,” he came rushing back to her and caught her in his arms, burying his nose in the hollow of her neck as he squeezed her tight. “Oh, my Rose! You are no more the TARDIS than I am. Than a printer is a computer. But what you did, when you looked into the TARDIS, bound us all together,” he leaned away from her slightly and gently brushed the hair from her eyes as he said, “It linked us forever. That's why I never doubted you would stay with me, deep inside...I knew.”
Handicapped by her desperate grip on the psychograft and her promise not to misuse Donna's body, Rose still managed to make the most of this golden opportunity for physical gratification. She ran her free hand up under the Doctor's slightly damp shirt, savoring the silken softness of his skin. He snuggled close again and she brushed her cheek against his hair. She longed to catch a whiff of his spicy signature aroma, but sadly, his recent slime bath had left him reeking of root mold. But not even the goo behind his ears could dampen her enthusiasm for him. She showered him with a dozen light kisses. She nibbled her way from his earlobe, down the curve of his jaw to his mouth. This time, he responded with a guttural moan, lips parting to welcome her. His grip on her became more fervent as they rocked into one another, tongues intertwining.
Oi! Donna shouted at the back of Rose's mind.
What? Oh, right! Sorry! “Doctor?” Rose grunted, when her husband gave her a chance to draw breath. “Your friend?”
For a second or two, he seemed completely confounded by her remark. His eyes were glassy with need, his skin bristled alluringly. He looked almost drunk with passion. And Rose, seeing it, wanted very much for him to give in to the impulse he was barely holding in check. But, drawing back a little he seemed to process her new face. The sight sobered him.
“Oh...ah...GAH'k,” he gasped, wrenching himself away from her. Bent double and breathing heavily, he held a palm up to her as she instinctively reached out to him. “Hold on,” he panted. “Hold on. Arousal.”
“Tell me about it,” Rose rasped. With a hand pressed to her chest, she kept her distance until the Doctor recovered some sense of propriety. She couldn't really pursue him, in any case, tethered as she was to the psychograft. “I suppose, we really shouldn't be kissing just now. The clock is ticking, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. Standing straighter and adjusting his clothing, he said, “Yes. Right, mind on the business at hand.” His gaze found hers, locked on. “I just needed to touch you.”
“I know. That's what happened to me...before. I still need... What are we going to do?”
“Find you a body?” he supposed. His brows pinched together as he considered the problem.
“Not a corpse, please,” Rose said. “I don't think I can do that.”
“What about an android? By the 53rd century they are quite sophisticated. Some beautiful models, all self-motivating. There might be some limitations on certain sensations...I'm not sure anyone thought about programming for android pleasures. Though the prosthetic fields were advanced enough,” he added, remembering his Blue Label appendage. “We might have something built to our specifications.”
“I don't fancy being a robot.”
“Not a robot. An organic machine, a living...,” he fell abruptly silent. “Oh, but you have a body, don't you?” he said, almost accusingly.
“I do? Wha...?” she began to ask, just as the psychograft went dark. Donna's return hurled Rose into the corner again.
“You promised me,” Donna shrieked, taking a clumsy swing at the Doctor. “No kissing!”
“Did I?” he asked innocently. He effortlessly ducked under another hay-maker. “I thought it was no shenanigans. And we definitely stopped short of those.”
“You had your hand on my bum and your tongue down my throat. That's shenaniganing.” She gasped theatrically. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Now, Donna,” he soothed, giving her lots of space and his contrite puppy dog eyes. “It was only Rose. My Rose. She's found her way home but she's still all alone. Can you imagine it?” His words had a hollow echo to them as he intoned, “No form. No substance. No touching. Ever.”
Having shared mental space with Rose, Donna wasn't completely unsympathetic to her plight. “Yeah? Well...she can't have my body.”
“We wouldn't dream of it. Either of us. And luckily she doesn't need it to borrow your body.” He addressed the air. “I don't know if you can hear me Rose. But I've got an idea. I should be able to use the psychograft to feed your consciousness back into the system, create a looping data stream through the mechanical interface.”
“Never mind if she can hear you,” Donna groused. “The real question is—can she understand a word you're saying? Because I certainly don't.”
The Doctor grunted in frustration as he realized Donna probably had a point. The science of what he was doing went far beyond general human understanding and he didn't really feel like translating it into ape-speak at the moment. He was already busy putting his plan into action.
“Yes, I imagine, Donna could be right,” he went on blithely. “Maybe you don't quite understand what all of that means, Rose. But trust me, this is our best chance at solidifying your identity for an indefinite time frame. I don't know if you are aware of this but the longer you stay in gaseous form the more likely it is that you will simply forget who you are. Obviously we will want to give our attention over to finding you an appropriate physical form as soon as possible but until then, I think we really must take precautionary steps.”
“I understand quite a lot of things,” Rose told him even though she knew he couldn't hear her. “You're going to link me to the TARDIS mainframe. Plug me back into her electronic systems. Then, I'll be able to manifest in your plane of existence. Well...given enough power, anyway. There is a power issue, Doctor.”
To her surprise, he responded, “I think I know how to solve the power issues. At least temporarily.”
“You can hear me?”
“Oh, yes. When I listen, it's quite easy.”
She edged closer to him, practically leaning into his shoulder. She watched him start a countdown with a mounting sense of trepidation, knowing there was no way to stop him. The TARDIS reassured her. It was pleased with this plan. But Rose knew there would be no turning back from it. It would change everything. It would make forever possible, but it would make her part of the TARDIS permanently. In the end, there was only one question Rose wanted to ask, “Will I still be me, Doctor?”
“Of course, you'll still be you,” the Doctor murmured solemnly, allowing himself a lopsided smile.“You aren't going anywhere, ever again, Rose Tyler,” he promised as he threw the switch on the start of her brand new life.
The last thought she had before everything went black was, I hope this doesn't hurt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It didn't hurt. It liberated her. The TARDIS-Core breathed her in, inhaled her consciousness and Rose's knowing expanded into the infinite. She became the Core, the heart of the TARDIS. Tapping into its alien memories, she let them overlay her own understanding. The material universe shrank to the size of a twopence coin. She was barely aware of it. She could hold dozens of universes in what had been the cup of her palm. No wonder, Rose thought, no wonder you don't understand us. We're like...dust mites to you or charged particles orbiting our little suns.
“You are tiny,” she'd once told the Dalek Emperor. But there had been no way to communicate how very insignificant such beings were to the Core. The Doctor, the Time Lords, had no idea what they were toying with in creating something like a TARDIS. The Time War...the Daleks...their worlds...their universe...none of it mattered.
--The Doctor matters-- the Core told her.
Rose processed this as she floated contentedly along, watching universes appear and vanish. She experienced the Vortex, not as a wolf at the door but as a warm, comforting stream in the midst of the void. It drew her, showering her with an ever-renewing energy. The TARDIS Core had come to this place--outside creation, but linked into the Time Lord's reality by the shared stream of temporal power. A link had been created...a hook and tenuous line. It anchored the Core. Rose recognized this anchoring line. It felt the same as the pull that had drawn her out of one dimension and into another. Bearing this knowledge in mind, she found the link to her home universe without difficulty. It didn't belong in the void.
The slight, persistent tug, caught her attention and fixed it on a specific point in a specific reality. She followed the interface signal back into her home universe.
Busy. Bright. Loud. Hard. Cold.
Data pounced on her, worried at her like a rat chewing on her boot. She kicked the annoyance away, but it kept scuttling back. There was noise. Meaningless din. Words. Rose recognized the intent if not the meaning of the garble and applied the translation module of this clumsy contraption she was lugging around like a ball and chain.
“I don't know what's wrong with her,” a voice said. “She simply refuses to bond with anyone.”
“It's scrap,” someone else said. A man, Rose thought, proud of herself for recognizing gender. “I told you they would botch the interface taking those shortcuts. Fried circuitry is the problem here. It's a complete failure. Just junk it and cut the organic loose.”
“We don't know what that would do to her?” the first speaker protested. “She's a living being and so rare. Once we've managed to install an interface...to abandon it again, seems like such a waste.”
“Can I have a go?” a girlish voice peeped.
“Susan,” the man said, gruffly. “What have I told you about interrupting?”
“I just thought...if we reversed the polarity on the...”
Susan? Susan!
It couldn't be her Susan. Rose fumbled for more linkage, wanting to see if this really could be her daughter. Nothing seemed to be working properly in the TARDIS mainframe. She wanted fists to pound on it like the Doctor used to do. It took ages to even locate the visual cortex circuits.
I don't know how to reconnect this. I don't know what to do. Am I gumming up the gears? she asked the TARDIS. Was it me that got you sidelined?
The TARDIS wasn't able to answer her. It had no frame of reference, yet, for interacting with people. Making that connection seemed to be Rose's responsibility. Visuals bloomed in her mind. She could see...a nose...and heavy-framed glasses...intelligent brown eyes peering at her.
“There you are,” her daughter said, flashing that grin her father had made famous on several worlds. She twiddled her fingers. “Hello! My name is Susan Foreman. Don't ask me why. It's a ridiculous name, I know.”
It's not. It's a beautiful name.
“They've given up on you,” Susan went on, “But I won't. I promise. You don't know it yet, but you're my ride off this boring old planet. We're going to Earth. Well, one day we will go, when I'm old enough to travel and you're feeling a bit better.” Taking up a sonic screwdriver, she focused her attention on the visual link, saying, “Let's see what we can do for one another.”
As it turned out, they could do miracles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just as the Doctor had promised, Rose didn't go anywhere. Not really. Time and space didn't figure into things at the heart of the TARDIS. A fact that made her acronym a bit of a misnomer. The ship, as an organic entity, existed outside time and space. She absorbed Rose into the whole. Then, flashed her back to the Doctor in an instant with a thousand years of memories at her disposal.
“There you are,” he said, beaming at her and twiddling his fingers as she took shape before him.
Rose couldn't help laughing. “Susan, did exactly the same thing when I met her,” she told him. “That finger flutter and she said, 'There you are,' too.”
“Did you meet her?” he asked, around a wobbly smile.
“Of course. I met everyone. Your other selves. Jamie and Victoria. Jo and the Brigadier. Turlough,” she made a face.
“The Master,” he said, pulling an identical grimace.
“Oh, god, what a berk,” she remarked. Then, she remembered what had happened to him in the war and turned contrite. “I'm sorry. I know he was your friend and you tried to save him.”
“But he did several very nasty things to you, didn't he? I'm sorry for that. I should have protected her, protected my ship.”
Rose had just opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, when Donna suddenly found her voice again and barked, “Did it work? Is she here?”
“Oh, right. Pardon me. Donna, may I present my wife? The one and only Rose Marion Tyler.”
“She can't see me,” Rose told him.
“I can't see her,” Donna confirmed, poking at the air several feet away from Rose's position. “Where is she?”
The Doctor grasped her shoulders and pivoted her to face Rose. “Right there. And you can't see her because you're not psychic. Luckily, I am,” he added.
Just as Rose also said, “Luckily, he is.”
They both burst into snickering fits over the synchronized remarks, inordinately pleased with one another. Enjoying the completeness the way they always had.
Sidling closer, Rose sighed, “It's so good to be with you again. To be me. But it is rather like a dream. I wish I could feel more.”
“You can,” the Doctor said. “You will. I've got an idea.” He turned again to his human companion. “Donna? Time to go change your clothes. Take that bath or shower. And then, I think,” he went on, fishing a bottle of pills out of his trouser pocket, “You'll want to take two or three of these.” He tossed the bottle toward her and she caught it neatly.
“Sleeping tablets?” she said, reading the label. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Only for a few hours.”
“Oh, I see how it is,” she sniffed. “She's back and now it's so-long, Donna. Goodbye. Have a nice life.”
“It's not goodbye,” the Doctor said with exaggerated patience. “Just, goodnight. And yes, I suppose I am trying to get rid of you. Do you honestly want to hang about while we...?”
Donna wrinkled her nose. “You're going to spoon and moon with an invisible girl? How is that going to work?”
“Never you mind. We haven't seen each other in ages, Rose and I, and we mean to make up for lost time. Stay and watch if you want, makes no difference to me.”
“Nor me,” Rose grinned. “Being invisible takes all the shyness out of a person.”
“Those pills,” the Doctor continued, indicating the bottle with a bob of his chin, “are just to make you comfortable.” He was circling the room again, manipulating levers as he manipulated her. “If you'd rather not take them, so be it.” He shrugged. “But we are heading straight into one of the worst ion storms this part of the universe has ever known. The ride is going to get mighty bumpy in just about,” he checked his watch. It leaked a bit of slime out the corner, “Oh, fifty-seven minutes and eight,” he tapped the watch face, “No, make that eighteen seconds...give or take...on my mark. And...mark.”
“Fifty-seven minutes?” Donna exclaimed. Worry overcame her indignation. She dashed to his side to peer over his shoulder at the churning ion monster on the monitor.
He looked at the watch again. “Fifty-six.”
“Can't you avoid it?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“It's an ion storm,” Donna said, over enunciating as if he were deaf or mentally deficient. “Isn't that dangerous?”
“Nah! Well,” he prevaricated, drawing out his words, “Not very. All right, perhaps a little. Yes. It could certainly be dangerous. And, under normal circumstance, I wouldn't steer straight into an ion storm.” He mussed his hair a bit. “But these aren't ordinary circs. And the TARDIS can weather it easily enough. You on the other hand? Bound to feel a tad queasy. The gravity will probably fluctuate. I'd strap in if I were you,” he advised, patting her on the upper arm. “And keep one of those emergency torches to hand.”
“You are absolutely out of your mind,” Donna declared.
“No, I think I'm right, a torch is probably going to come in handy,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her panicked protest. “The lights might flicker. It could get chilly and we will...possibly. Probably. I should say, probably, be tossed about like salad on a mechanical bull. Still, it's the only way to draw enough energy into the system to let Rose manifest in the flesh.”
“Oh, and Rose must manifest,” Donna remarked, snidely.
The Doctor had turned his attention back to battening down assorted hatches, making sure they could ride out the storm without serious damage to the ship, but this question surprised him so much he glanced up again briefly. Popping his lip at Donna like some insolent teenager, he rolled his eyes as he said, “Yeah.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “I can see I'm not wanted here. I'll be in my room, if anyone cares.” She stormed toward the inner door. “If we blow up or anything...just tell the space paramedics where I am.”
“She's rather funny,” Rose said, as Donna stalked indignantly out. “Where did you pick her up?”
“She beamed in,” the Doctor said, pointing vaguely over his shoulder, then he frowned. “Wedding dress. Big old Racnoss. Don't you remember?”
“I've got no TARDIS memories from Bad Wolf on,” she told him. “The circuit completed at that point and I popped to here.”
“I see,” he peered at her. “So...you don't know about...?”
“Astrid and Martha and Joan and Sylvia and Meryl and that one with the green skin? Oh, yes. I do.”
“From my dream,” he mused. “But none of that was real. You do know?”
Rose sighed as the lights flickered. “I know.”
“And anyway, I was going to say...you don't know about everything I went through. What it was like without you.”
“No,” Rose whispered. “I know about that. I know exactly what that was like.”
Sparks danced across the console as the storm engulfed them. When the lights dimmed, Rose grew brighter, more solid. She laced her glowing fingers through his. Feeling his palm warm against hers, she gave a tiny mew and thought she might vaporize again from the intense joy flaring inside her. To touch him. To lean her head against his shoulder, this was all she needed to be fulfilled. She snuggled closer as he wrapped his other arm around her, grateful to simply stand beside him, holding his hand.
END THIS PART
Click here for PART TWENTY-SIX
Once again my chapter is too big to post. What the hell has gotten into LJ, lately?
Apparently...it is stealing comments, too.
Anyway, whatever! This means...two updates for you, my lovely readers.
THIS IS PART 2 of CHAPTER 25
Go to the following link for PART 1 and read it first...Also, you can leave a comment there with no trouble, it seems.
CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE of Chapter 25
Then, come back...for PART TWO...SIGH!
DISHEVELED
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
Ratings: Adult +
Spoilers: Runaway Bride. But this is set in S4...so Donna is featured. Martha is long gone in my universe.
Beta Babes: Keswindhover, larielromeniel, and thewinterqueen also, Measi and queenrikki_hp. With a special shout-out to Lil and Jei for their YIM help.
Summary: Rose is back. But she isn't exactly herself. Trapped in the machinery of the TARDIS without a body to call her own, she and the Doctor face a number of challenges on the way to their “forever.”
Disclaimer: If only Russell T. Davies or the BBC would return my calls. But sadly, they are busy creating the best show on television. And I own nothing associated with that show. I am borrowing (okay...stealing) characters and situations for my own pleasure and hopefully yours.
PART TWENTY-FIVE Continues...
“You haven't told me what that is,” Donna asked, unconsciously parroting Rose. “Or explained how it justified my breaking two nails and a heel, ruining this blouse and nearly getting shot in the head?”
“This, Donna,” the Doctor said, careful to hold the device by the cloth-wrapped end, “is a psychograft. A particularly nasty piece of psychic paraphernalia. The mere possession of a psychograft is a hanging offense in most of the civilized universe. Well, I say hanging. Quartering. Flaying. Tickling.” He grimaced over the last one, “Horrible way to go, tickling. Dehydrating. Electrocuting. In the end, it doesn't matter how the authorities put a period to your existence, I suppose, you're just as dead afterward--unless you're not. Funny that. When a particular capital punishment isn't particularly fatal to your species. Someone sets about killing you and you shrug it off. I've been drowned and electrocuted...oh...dozens of times. And once, on Peli Horgini, the authorities tried to kill Rose and I by feeding us chocolate truffles.”
“I remember that,” Rose said. “You kept asking for a toffee center.”
“Death by chocolate,” Donna said quellingly, “beats dying in a swamp.”
“But we didn't die,” he pointed out, “didn't even come close. Point is,” he continued, setting the psychograft down to waffle a hand at her, “My earlier point, that is, not the one about dying. Or the other one about capital punishment." He lost his train of thought and had to backtrack over the conversation. "Yes, right. My point was that you can get up to all sorts of trouble with a psychograft. But having it is vitally important to us at this juncture. And yes, it was well worth the scrambling haste of our retreat and the cost of your blouse.”
“You're buying me a new one. First Debenhams we come to.”
“Money well spent,” he said, fishing a non-sonic screwdriver from the pile of junk on the floor. He used the tip of the tool to lever open a flip-up panel on the console.
“So...? What does it do, this psycho-whatsit?”
“Cassandra, this bint from the end of Earth, had one,” Rose told her. “Let's you use someone's body as your own.”
“It facilitates psychic communion,” the Doctor explained. “Specifically, it allows one being to overlay their consciousness on another being, in much the same way that a plasma wraith will graft onto and influence a medium.”
“A plasma...?”
“A ghost,” he said shortly. “We've got ghosts in our machinery.”
“There's no such thing as ghosts.”
“Certainly there are,” the Doctor corrected her. “On any given street corner, you'll likely be surrounded by half a dozen plasma wraiths or other transdimensional entities, all going about their spectral business. You'll rarely be troubled by them. Even the psychic folks are rarely troubled. And we certainly shouldn't be having trouble with them in here. The TARDIS exists in a state of temporal grace. Almost no chance for a haunting.”
“Almost?”
“Well, it's not unheard of.” As if checking for stubble, he stroked a hand along his cheek, tipping his head to the side. “And there have been a few minor, very slight, hiccups in the security systems lately.” His other hand gravitated to the monitor. Like a preoccupied lover, he traced one finger along the screen edge and absently fondled a few levers. “Mostly, when I've left the shields down.” His gaze darted to the shield controls, double checking they'd been activated. “She's gone a bit funny, though. Ever since....”
“Since...?”
Lost in thought, the Doctor didn't respond to Donna's prompting. He stared blankly into the middle distance. He seemed to be listening to something a long distance away. Donna was just about to prod him in the third waistcoat button when, shaking himself like a wet dog, he focused on her again.
“I was going to say ever since this particular disaster we avoided a bit back,” he went on. “But, I suddenly realized I can't be sure of when it all started. She's been giving me the cold shoulder for some time now, I think. I'd like to lay it at the feet of the Master.”
“Your old school teacher?”
“Not likely. An old enemy. Rival. Friend. You knew him as Mr. Saxon. But I just don't know if I can blame him for this. That's the problem, isn't it? I just don't know. I've check and rechecked her synaptic relays. Completely overhauled the spatial interface. Everything seems to be working. Thought for a while it must be psychological. She was quite attached to Rose, you know? But now, I've started having dreams. This,” he picked up the psychograft and waved it at her, “will let me find out what she's really thinking.”
“What your ship is thinking?”
“Ask an awful lot of questions, don't you?” Rose muttered.
“She's not a ship in the ordinary sense--wires and plastic and steel. She's an empathic entity. There's a living being under all this hardware.” He indicated the controls with a waft of his hand. “Generally we communicate via touch and, of course, the computer interface. But from time to time a Time Lord has to re-establish his rapport with his TARDIS. Before the war, that sort of thing would have been done on my home world. There would be dozens of certified technicians lurking about in case something went wrong. But needs must. We will make do. I've parked the TARDIS near human habitation, if anything untoward happens you can walk out.”
“Something could go wrong? Like what?”
“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it. It's only a precaution. The psychograft is nearly foolproof. It will help my mind overlay hers. I'll be able to wander around in the doodads...circuits...software...find out what's making her tetchy.”
“So, you're planning to chat up your spaceship?”
“Yep.”
“Does this have anything to do with that perverted mounting thing you do?”
“What mounting thing?”
“You know what I mean. The fondling, the petting. You climb all over the console when you program it,” Donna nodded at the time rotor. “You practically make love to those levers.”
He looked momentarily nonplussed, but then said, very breathlessly, “Yes, well, as I said, she's an empath. She can sense me here. But it is getting harder and harder to break through her air of distraction and really communicate. Theoretically, the more physical contact I have with the interface,” he bounced over to affectionately smack one of the walls, “the solid part of her, you understand, the stronger our connection. Flesh to flesh, as it were. But, she hasn't been responding very readily to my overtures. Or, I suppose, I haven't been listening properly. This,” he picked up the amber crystal and waved it again, “will help us get back in sync. It will link my mind to hers, bring us face to face in my mind.”
“Sounds boring. Mind if I don't stick around for that?”
“Not at all. Go to your room if you like. Change your clothes. Do your nails. Or nap. Or fix us a sandwich. Oh, there's an idea. I could do with a nosh. Peanut butter and corned beef? Easy on the horseradish, heavy on the gherkins.” He touched his chest and grimaced theatrically. “Got a bit of heartburn.”
“I'm not making you a sandwich,” Donna said, “Do I look like your mother?”
The Doctor glanced up at her, considering. “No, not really. She was a bit shorter and plumper and she had a tattoo over her left eye.” He fanned out his fingers and placed them over his own eye to illustrate the location of the tattoo. “Of a Miltigian Dragon King. Very fetching.”
“You're kidding me?”
“Yes, I am,” he said, stretching to reach a snip of wiring. “It used to give me the shudders.”
“I meant about your sandwich. Who eats peanut butter and corned beef?” Donna groused. “You aren't pregnant, are you? Because the last thing I need is...”
The Doctor straightened, casting her a pained look. “No, I am not preg...” he began, only to break off in alarm as events spiraled out of control around him.
His hip had hit a dial which shifted slightly, sending his sonic screwdriver rolling into the psychograft. The crystal device wobbled, spun and started to slide toward the floor. The Doctor's dismayed yelp galvanized Donna to action. He immediately uttered a warning squeak, but it came too late to stop her from springing forward, hand outstretched. She caught the crystal before it could shatter into pieces on, or disappear through, the metal floor grates.
As Donna's fingers closed around the shaft of the device, the world swirled around Rose as if she were being sucked down a drain. She felt herself yanked across the room. Everything blurred for a second. When her vision cleared, she was standing in front of the Doctor and he was staring at her with wild-eyed surmise, really seeing her.
A surge of heat ignited at her core and the air pressed on her skin. Life. She was alive. “Oh, Doctor,” she cried and threw herself against him.
He caught her awkwardly, inexplicably dodging her first attempts to kiss him. Too inflamed by her own passions to give much thought to why he was squirming, Rose concentrated on her own ungainly body. She felt off balance and too tall. Nothing seemed to match up with the Doctor, even without his obsessive shoving at her. But she managed to align her lips to his and held on to the back of his head certain he would melt into the embrace in a moment. He continued to put up a fight. She took a brief break for a breath and he again tried wriggling free of her grasp. Sputtering in alarm, he endeavored, none-too-gently, to pry her from around his neck.
He managed, finally, to insinuate an arm between them and lever her away. “Donna? Stop it! Take control of yourself,” he demanded.
Rose staggered to one side, confused and hurt by his attitude. But, at least, aware of the nature of his problem. He simply didn't recognize her. She'd changed, of course. “It's me, luv,” she said, urgently soothing him. Unfortunately she returned to the embrace before she had completely processed his rejection or thought to explain further.
“Luv?” he mumbled, around her tongue, prodding the offending appendage with his own in a fruitless effort to defend himself.
His fingers clawed at her hand, seeking to wrest the psychograft from her grasp. She had forgotten it. Of course, that explained his confusion. She must have been drawn in by the device. She shifted her grip on him, easing back a little to tell him to relax. But the Doctor seized on this opportunity and pried the psychograft away from her. There was a brief flash of amber light and Rose was thrown free of her new body.
Swirled to the far side of the room, she found it difficult to recover from the sudden attack of living. It took a few minutes to orient to her gaseous state again. While she struggled to make sense of her recent experience, she saw another woman kissing the Doctor. What was her name? Donna? Yes. She saw Donna and the Doctor acting out a romantic farce. The embrace Rose had instigated degraded almost immediately into a slapping tussle worthy of any situation comedy.
“What are you doing? Get off me,” Donna ordered shrilly. “I said, 'get off!'” Wrenching free of the Doctor's desperate grip, she drew back her arm and slapped him across the face.
“Wha...?” he whimpered, palm going to his reddened cheek. But he quickly gave rein to his own sense of outrage. “You kissed me,” he accused. His eyes narrowed to slits as his expression became one of offended hauteur.
Both of them seemed horrified by the memory. They fell to spitting and sputtering, wiping their mouths on the back of their hands and generally fussing like preteen siblings after a suggestion of affection. Despite her own shock, Rose couldn't help smiling over this juvenile display. She felt absurdly grateful, in hindsight, for the Doctor's utter rejection of her advances. Obviously he felt no physical attraction for his latest traveling companion. Donna might be a friend but she wasn't a romantic interest. Rose hadn't been replaced, which, she realized, was what the TARDIS had told her from the start.
“What could have possessed you to...?” Donna began, but the Doctor cut her off.
“A better question,” he said, “a far better question is: What could have possessed you?” He turned in a slow circle, amber crystal held before him like a divining rod. “I knew it,” he muttered. “I knew there was something going on. She's been trying to tell me. Lulling me off to sleep. That dream...? There's someone else on board.“
Shivering, Donna looked around nervously. “There's someone on board?” she asked, fear overshadowing her temper.
“Or something,” he suggested, eyebrows lifting. “An alien presence." He nodded knowingly. "The TARDIS can warn me about things like that. Invasion. She can manifest in my mind, or even outside it if she draws in enough power. But I don't always understand what she's trying to tell me. It all comes down to metaphor and simile, really, random images and vague feelings. She's only empathic, after all. Not telepathic.”
“I don't know what any of that means,” Donna protested.
“It means she can't just come out and tell the Doctor I'm here,” Rose said as she maneuvered close to them again. “Doctor,” she went on when she was staring straight into his eyes, “It's Rose. I am right here. The TARDIS pulled me across the void. Because you need me, I think. She is trying to bring me back to you, but we can't do it alone. You have to help us.” Noticing the Doctor had gone quite still, almost as if he were listening to her, Rose placed her ghostly fingertips to his cheek. She focused her energies into firm intention, as she had when using Mary Alice's hand to write, and spoke into his mind, “Help me. Help me find a way to talk to you.”
He'd heard her. She was certain of it. He stumbled backward, flailing as he jerked away from her. Catching himself on the chair, he clutched it and stood, panting and trembling and looking quite dazed.
“What? What is it?” Donna asked. Alarmed by his reaction, she looked ready to run, but instead offered him a hand on his shoulder.
His mouth worked silently as if he'd forgotten how to speak. But then, quite suddenly, he brightened and, beaming out a smile, said, “Right, then...Donna?” He cast an inquiring glance at his companion and held forth the psychograft. “I'm going to need you to grab onto this again.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Donna exclaimed, backpedaling. “No! Absolutely not! I'm not letting your spaceship possess me so the two of you can get up to whatever kinky alien shenanigans you find natural. No flippin' way!”
“I'm not planning any sort of...shenanigans,” the Doctor protested, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip over the word. “Honestly, the mind you have.” He shook his head, appalled by the very idea.
“There was kissing,” Donna reminded him. “Who knows what else might happen?” She leaned forward menacingly. “You listen to me, space boy. You are not using my body for your little psycho-experiment and that's final.”
The Doctor took one threatening step toward her and held her gaze for a glaring moment. He looked as if he meant to force her to comply. But, when she showed no sign of being impressed by this, he turned away with a cheerful air of nonchalance.
“Fine. Whatever. We'll just wait then, shall we? Let it take random possession of you whenever it likes,” he said, putting the crystal down again. “Last time something like this happened....” he paused to run a thumb along his bottom lip, jaw set and gaze contemplative, then said, “Poor Tegan.”
“What? What happened to her?” Donna asked suspiciously.
“Hmmm? Oh, nothing. Well, something. But she survived,” he said, flashing a wicked grin. “Course she had a bit of breakdown later. Still, all better now! Living in Sydney, last I heard. Hardly ever has flashbacks...except at the holidays. And stoplights.”
“Oh, give it up,” Rose sighed. “She can't be that gullible.”
“Promise me there will be no kissing?” Donna said, edging forward.
“On the other hand, you know her better than I do.”
“Well, I don't know, do I?” the Doctor asked. “It seemed to come out kissing, didn't it?” He spoke to the room in general. “Donna and I would appreciate it if you didn't come out kissing.”
Donna swept another glance around the room, hugging herself as she whispered, “Can it hear us?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Possibly.”
“I can hear you,” Rose said, smiling at him. “Though I'm not sure how that works. I don't have real ears drums for sound. I think maybe the TARDIS is hearing you electronically and passing it on.”
“What would I have to do?” Donna asked the Doctor.
“Just what you did before,” he told her, “Hold onto the crystal. Whatever this entity is, it obviously is yearning to come through.”
“You won't let it stay, will you?” Donna asked.
“I promise. I won't let it hurt you. I'm trying to get rid of it. I'll run it off again as soon as I know what it wants. Besides a snog, I mean. No shenanigans.”
Recognizing Donna's fears, Rose experienced a rush of sympathy for her. She remembered how weird it had felt having Cassandra use her body, an alien consciousness pressing down on her awareness. It was a startling violation being shuffled to the back of your own mind, having your body used like a puppet. And Rose hadn't really objected to kissing the Doctor or jumping on him, as she'd done later. Cassandra had been right about her liking it. She'd only been upset about Cassandra hogging all the new and wonderful sensations.
Now, of course, she had a lot more sympathy, for the disembodied--the Gelth and even Cassandra. But she wasn't planning on hijacking Donna's body. She resolved, like the Doctor, to keep the physical contact to a minimum. She wished she could reassure Donna things would be different this time, but she saw no way to do so without entering her mind.
Floating over to her, Rose gave her a soothing, if ghostly, pat and said, “I promise not to misuse your body. And to give it back to you straight away. As soon as the Doctor knows I'm here.”
“Fine,” Donna said, “But make it quick, okay?”
Rose thought the woman was addressing her, until the Doctor responded, “Quick as I can,” he said. “Wait.” He darted around the console and returned clutching some wires. “I can plug the psychograft into the TARDIS. That way we can time it all to, say, five minutes?”
“Five minutes,” Donna agreed. “And then you'll stop it?”
“I won't have to. The TARDIS will. Just a few minor instructions,” he tapped a couple of keys and consulted the monitor, “and she'll pull the plug automatically.”
“I'll have to talk fast,” Rose said. “And you'll have to think faster,” she told the Doctor.
Anticipation made her feel as bubbly as iced champagne as she watched him wire the crystal and silver device into the TARDIS control panel. When all was ready, he solemnly offered the psychograft to Donna. She didn't want to take it. Rose saw her searching his face for some sign of reassurance. Whatever she saw there comforted her enough. Stepping forward, she drew a deep breath and, closing her eyes, wrapped her fingers around the crystal. Rose pantomimed breathing in with her.
And exhaled through Donna's mouth. Opening her borrowed eyes, she saw the Doctor standing in front of her. The urge to throw herself at him, nearly overwhelmed her, again. She wanted nothing more than to hold him. Donna's heart started pounding in her ears. She could feel her wide smile tugging at her cheeks. She raised her free hand to her mouth and traced the grin on her full lips. She was smiling. She had a body. She was alive, again.
“Doctor,” she said, quickly coming to the point this time. “It's me. It's Rose.”
“Rose?” he breathed her name reverently. To her surprise, instead of rushing to embrace her, he scowled. “What? WHAT?”
“I know,” she agreed, taking a half-step toward him. “The TARDIS brought me back, somehow, across the void.”
“The TARDIS?” he exclaimed, still not processing it. “The TARDIS brought you back?”
“Yes, I don't know how. I just started...dissolving one day. Soon nobody could see me, not even my mum,” she blurted. “It was awful. I disappeared.” Her voice cracked as the horror of it came back to her. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was so frightened. I'm so frightened Doctor. Help me.”
This plea brought a reaction, but not the one Rose was expecting. “Who are you?” he snarled, closing the distance between them with two long strides. Sounding furious and looking every inch the vengeful god, he wrenched her arm up painfully, twisting her elbow. “Tell me who you are!” he thundered into her face.
“Rose,” she yelped. “Honestly, it's me. First word you ever said to me? Run! Last words, uhm...my name. Right? But that wasn't what you meant to say, was it? You said,” she quoted him, “'And I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it'...yeah? And then you bollocksed the job, didn't you? Lousy timing for a Time Lord. How hard is it, really, when you think about it, to tell me you love me? We both know you do.”
“Do I?” he said. Mouth gaping, he stared at her, glittering eyes searching her face. A brief ray of hope lit him up from the inside and a tiny sigh escaped him, “Rose?”
“Hello,” she said, smiling at him.
Releasing her, he shuffled back a bit. His hands opened and closed, longing to take hold of her again but he didn't dare make contact, not when every fiber of his being was clamoring for her. “No, it can't be.”
“She said you didn't want to believe,” Rose said. “The TARDIS, she's been telling you I'm back, hasn't she?”
“I have to think.” He clutched at his hair. Spinning, first in one direction and then the other, he said, “If this is true. If it's true.... The TARDIS brought you back.” He was no longer questioning it but instead weighing the meaning of her words. “How?”
“Through the door in my head,” Rose said.
“The Vortex?”
“No, it's not.”
“No, it's not,” he agreed, and she could see he'd thought of something. “It can't be, can it? I took the Vortex out of you. And died. I died. Because nobody is meant to do that, have the Vortex running through them. But you didn't die, did you, Rose? And you're not dead now, are you?”
“I don't think so,” Rose said. “But I might as well be. I don't have a body anymore.”
“She couldn't bring a physical being through the void, of course,” he muttered. “Not without shattering the fabric of space/time, destroying both worlds.”
“Like you said,” Rose nodded.
“Like I said. Oh, I'm missing something quite obvious,” he exclaimed, pounding his knuckles against his forehead. “It's right there on the tip of my brain.”
“She...the TARDIS...said I need to be reintegrated.”
“Reintegrated?” he said, the blank expression on his face showing the word itself meant nothing to him. "A Time Lord will integrate with a TARDIS. Could she mean...?"
“I'm not a Time Lord. She said I'm a... Oh, what's the word she keeps using? An...interface.”
“Interface?” He lifted his chin until his astonished gaze intersected her puzzled one. “You're...? Oh! Oh, Yes!” He cried. A huge grin burst onto his gloomy countenance as the weight of years of sorrow fell away from him in an instant. Because that word, interface, obviously meant quite a lot to him. “Of course! Of course, you are. And I have been such a complete and utter fool!”
“You're not a fool. You're the smartest, cleverest person in the universe. And you've figured this out haven't you? I knew you would.”
“There was nothing to figure out. You've been telling me all along. You told me the very first time I asked. Right to my face. Ha! You looked into the TARDIS...”
“And the TARDIS looked into me,” she said.
“Yes, she did,” he confirmed, bounding across the room to give one of the Y-struts a bear hug of exuberant affection. “She certainly did.” Whirling around to face Rose, he asked, “And what did she see? When she looked into you? I never asked. You never said.”
“Uh...” Rose thought back. “That I wanted to...find you, rescue you.”
“Save me. Yes. You wanted exactly what she wanted.”
“I suppose,” Rose agreed, tentatively at first but then said, with greater conviction, “Yes, I did. We were of one mind on it. You were important to us both.”
“One,” he repeated, awed by the simplicity of it. “One mind. How could you be separated? She made you part of her, plugged you in, the same way she might plug in a new Helmut Regulator. She looked into you, found a way to open a portal in your mind and taught you how to channel the Vortex, just like plugging a printer into your computer at home.” He thrust a splay-fingered hand toward the Time Rotor. “This,” he explained. “All of this machinery and circuitry, that's what it is...an interface for the TARDIS. A way for her to relate to me. And you? You were a better way, Rose.”
“But...doesn't that mean...all this time? I'm not, not human, not really Rose,” she said, remembering her mother's warning about losing her identity if she stayed with the Doctor. Her pleading gaze sought his. “Is it her you love? The TARDIS?”
“Oh, no, no,” he came rushing back to her and caught her in his arms, burying his nose in the hollow of her neck as he squeezed her tight. “Oh, my Rose! You are no more the TARDIS than I am. Than a printer is a computer. But what you did, when you looked into the TARDIS, bound us all together,” he leaned away from her slightly and gently brushed the hair from her eyes as he said, “It linked us forever. That's why I never doubted you would stay with me, deep inside...I knew.”
Handicapped by her desperate grip on the psychograft and her promise not to misuse Donna's body, Rose still managed to make the most of this golden opportunity for physical gratification. She ran her free hand up under the Doctor's slightly damp shirt, savoring the silken softness of his skin. He snuggled close again and she brushed her cheek against his hair. She longed to catch a whiff of his spicy signature aroma, but sadly, his recent slime bath had left him reeking of root mold. But not even the goo behind his ears could dampen her enthusiasm for him. She showered him with a dozen light kisses. She nibbled her way from his earlobe, down the curve of his jaw to his mouth. This time, he responded with a guttural moan, lips parting to welcome her. His grip on her became more fervent as they rocked into one another, tongues intertwining.
Oi! Donna shouted at the back of Rose's mind.
What? Oh, right! Sorry! “Doctor?” Rose grunted, when her husband gave her a chance to draw breath. “Your friend?”
For a second or two, he seemed completely confounded by her remark. His eyes were glassy with need, his skin bristled alluringly. He looked almost drunk with passion. And Rose, seeing it, wanted very much for him to give in to the impulse he was barely holding in check. But, drawing back a little he seemed to process her new face. The sight sobered him.
“Oh...ah...GAH'k,” he gasped, wrenching himself away from her. Bent double and breathing heavily, he held a palm up to her as she instinctively reached out to him. “Hold on,” he panted. “Hold on. Arousal.”
“Tell me about it,” Rose rasped. With a hand pressed to her chest, she kept her distance until the Doctor recovered some sense of propriety. She couldn't really pursue him, in any case, tethered as she was to the psychograft. “I suppose, we really shouldn't be kissing just now. The clock is ticking, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. Standing straighter and adjusting his clothing, he said, “Yes. Right, mind on the business at hand.” His gaze found hers, locked on. “I just needed to touch you.”
“I know. That's what happened to me...before. I still need... What are we going to do?”
“Find you a body?” he supposed. His brows pinched together as he considered the problem.
“Not a corpse, please,” Rose said. “I don't think I can do that.”
“What about an android? By the 53rd century they are quite sophisticated. Some beautiful models, all self-motivating. There might be some limitations on certain sensations...I'm not sure anyone thought about programming for android pleasures. Though the prosthetic fields were advanced enough,” he added, remembering his Blue Label appendage. “We might have something built to our specifications.”
“I don't fancy being a robot.”
“Not a robot. An organic machine, a living...,” he fell abruptly silent. “Oh, but you have a body, don't you?” he said, almost accusingly.
“I do? Wha...?” she began to ask, just as the psychograft went dark. Donna's return hurled Rose into the corner again.
“You promised me,” Donna shrieked, taking a clumsy swing at the Doctor. “No kissing!”
“Did I?” he asked innocently. He effortlessly ducked under another hay-maker. “I thought it was no shenanigans. And we definitely stopped short of those.”
“You had your hand on my bum and your tongue down my throat. That's shenaniganing.” She gasped theatrically. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Now, Donna,” he soothed, giving her lots of space and his contrite puppy dog eyes. “It was only Rose. My Rose. She's found her way home but she's still all alone. Can you imagine it?” His words had a hollow echo to them as he intoned, “No form. No substance. No touching. Ever.”
Having shared mental space with Rose, Donna wasn't completely unsympathetic to her plight. “Yeah? Well...she can't have my body.”
“We wouldn't dream of it. Either of us. And luckily she doesn't need it to borrow your body.” He addressed the air. “I don't know if you can hear me Rose. But I've got an idea. I should be able to use the psychograft to feed your consciousness back into the system, create a looping data stream through the mechanical interface.”
“Never mind if she can hear you,” Donna groused. “The real question is—can she understand a word you're saying? Because I certainly don't.”
The Doctor grunted in frustration as he realized Donna probably had a point. The science of what he was doing went far beyond general human understanding and he didn't really feel like translating it into ape-speak at the moment. He was already busy putting his plan into action.
“Yes, I imagine, Donna could be right,” he went on blithely. “Maybe you don't quite understand what all of that means, Rose. But trust me, this is our best chance at solidifying your identity for an indefinite time frame. I don't know if you are aware of this but the longer you stay in gaseous form the more likely it is that you will simply forget who you are. Obviously we will want to give our attention over to finding you an appropriate physical form as soon as possible but until then, I think we really must take precautionary steps.”
“I understand quite a lot of things,” Rose told him even though she knew he couldn't hear her. “You're going to link me to the TARDIS mainframe. Plug me back into her electronic systems. Then, I'll be able to manifest in your plane of existence. Well...given enough power, anyway. There is a power issue, Doctor.”
To her surprise, he responded, “I think I know how to solve the power issues. At least temporarily.”
“You can hear me?”
“Oh, yes. When I listen, it's quite easy.”
She edged closer to him, practically leaning into his shoulder. She watched him start a countdown with a mounting sense of trepidation, knowing there was no way to stop him. The TARDIS reassured her. It was pleased with this plan. But Rose knew there would be no turning back from it. It would change everything. It would make forever possible, but it would make her part of the TARDIS permanently. In the end, there was only one question Rose wanted to ask, “Will I still be me, Doctor?”
“Of course, you'll still be you,” the Doctor murmured solemnly, allowing himself a lopsided smile.“You aren't going anywhere, ever again, Rose Tyler,” he promised as he threw the switch on the start of her brand new life.
The last thought she had before everything went black was, I hope this doesn't hurt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It didn't hurt. It liberated her. The TARDIS-Core breathed her in, inhaled her consciousness and Rose's knowing expanded into the infinite. She became the Core, the heart of the TARDIS. Tapping into its alien memories, she let them overlay her own understanding. The material universe shrank to the size of a twopence coin. She was barely aware of it. She could hold dozens of universes in what had been the cup of her palm. No wonder, Rose thought, no wonder you don't understand us. We're like...dust mites to you or charged particles orbiting our little suns.
“You are tiny,” she'd once told the Dalek Emperor. But there had been no way to communicate how very insignificant such beings were to the Core. The Doctor, the Time Lords, had no idea what they were toying with in creating something like a TARDIS. The Time War...the Daleks...their worlds...their universe...none of it mattered.
--The Doctor matters-- the Core told her.
Rose processed this as she floated contentedly along, watching universes appear and vanish. She experienced the Vortex, not as a wolf at the door but as a warm, comforting stream in the midst of the void. It drew her, showering her with an ever-renewing energy. The TARDIS Core had come to this place--outside creation, but linked into the Time Lord's reality by the shared stream of temporal power. A link had been created...a hook and tenuous line. It anchored the Core. Rose recognized this anchoring line. It felt the same as the pull that had drawn her out of one dimension and into another. Bearing this knowledge in mind, she found the link to her home universe without difficulty. It didn't belong in the void.
The slight, persistent tug, caught her attention and fixed it on a specific point in a specific reality. She followed the interface signal back into her home universe.
Busy. Bright. Loud. Hard. Cold.
Data pounced on her, worried at her like a rat chewing on her boot. She kicked the annoyance away, but it kept scuttling back. There was noise. Meaningless din. Words. Rose recognized the intent if not the meaning of the garble and applied the translation module of this clumsy contraption she was lugging around like a ball and chain.
“I don't know what's wrong with her,” a voice said. “She simply refuses to bond with anyone.”
“It's scrap,” someone else said. A man, Rose thought, proud of herself for recognizing gender. “I told you they would botch the interface taking those shortcuts. Fried circuitry is the problem here. It's a complete failure. Just junk it and cut the organic loose.”
“We don't know what that would do to her?” the first speaker protested. “She's a living being and so rare. Once we've managed to install an interface...to abandon it again, seems like such a waste.”
“Can I have a go?” a girlish voice peeped.
“Susan,” the man said, gruffly. “What have I told you about interrupting?”
“I just thought...if we reversed the polarity on the...”
Susan? Susan!
It couldn't be her Susan. Rose fumbled for more linkage, wanting to see if this really could be her daughter. Nothing seemed to be working properly in the TARDIS mainframe. She wanted fists to pound on it like the Doctor used to do. It took ages to even locate the visual cortex circuits.
I don't know how to reconnect this. I don't know what to do. Am I gumming up the gears? she asked the TARDIS. Was it me that got you sidelined?
The TARDIS wasn't able to answer her. It had no frame of reference, yet, for interacting with people. Making that connection seemed to be Rose's responsibility. Visuals bloomed in her mind. She could see...a nose...and heavy-framed glasses...intelligent brown eyes peering at her.
“There you are,” her daughter said, flashing that grin her father had made famous on several worlds. She twiddled her fingers. “Hello! My name is Susan Foreman. Don't ask me why. It's a ridiculous name, I know.”
It's not. It's a beautiful name.
“They've given up on you,” Susan went on, “But I won't. I promise. You don't know it yet, but you're my ride off this boring old planet. We're going to Earth. Well, one day we will go, when I'm old enough to travel and you're feeling a bit better.” Taking up a sonic screwdriver, she focused her attention on the visual link, saying, “Let's see what we can do for one another.”
As it turned out, they could do miracles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just as the Doctor had promised, Rose didn't go anywhere. Not really. Time and space didn't figure into things at the heart of the TARDIS. A fact that made her acronym a bit of a misnomer. The ship, as an organic entity, existed outside time and space. She absorbed Rose into the whole. Then, flashed her back to the Doctor in an instant with a thousand years of memories at her disposal.
“There you are,” he said, beaming at her and twiddling his fingers as she took shape before him.
Rose couldn't help laughing. “Susan, did exactly the same thing when I met her,” she told him. “That finger flutter and she said, 'There you are,' too.”
“Did you meet her?” he asked, around a wobbly smile.
“Of course. I met everyone. Your other selves. Jamie and Victoria. Jo and the Brigadier. Turlough,” she made a face.
“The Master,” he said, pulling an identical grimace.
“Oh, god, what a berk,” she remarked. Then, she remembered what had happened to him in the war and turned contrite. “I'm sorry. I know he was your friend and you tried to save him.”
“But he did several very nasty things to you, didn't he? I'm sorry for that. I should have protected her, protected my ship.”
Rose had just opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, when Donna suddenly found her voice again and barked, “Did it work? Is she here?”
“Oh, right. Pardon me. Donna, may I present my wife? The one and only Rose Marion Tyler.”
“She can't see me,” Rose told him.
“I can't see her,” Donna confirmed, poking at the air several feet away from Rose's position. “Where is she?”
The Doctor grasped her shoulders and pivoted her to face Rose. “Right there. And you can't see her because you're not psychic. Luckily, I am,” he added.
Just as Rose also said, “Luckily, he is.”
They both burst into snickering fits over the synchronized remarks, inordinately pleased with one another. Enjoying the completeness the way they always had.
Sidling closer, Rose sighed, “It's so good to be with you again. To be me. But it is rather like a dream. I wish I could feel more.”
“You can,” the Doctor said. “You will. I've got an idea.” He turned again to his human companion. “Donna? Time to go change your clothes. Take that bath or shower. And then, I think,” he went on, fishing a bottle of pills out of his trouser pocket, “You'll want to take two or three of these.” He tossed the bottle toward her and she caught it neatly.
“Sleeping tablets?” she said, reading the label. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Only for a few hours.”
“Oh, I see how it is,” she sniffed. “She's back and now it's so-long, Donna. Goodbye. Have a nice life.”
“It's not goodbye,” the Doctor said with exaggerated patience. “Just, goodnight. And yes, I suppose I am trying to get rid of you. Do you honestly want to hang about while we...?”
Donna wrinkled her nose. “You're going to spoon and moon with an invisible girl? How is that going to work?”
“Never you mind. We haven't seen each other in ages, Rose and I, and we mean to make up for lost time. Stay and watch if you want, makes no difference to me.”
“Nor me,” Rose grinned. “Being invisible takes all the shyness out of a person.”
“Those pills,” the Doctor continued, indicating the bottle with a bob of his chin, “are just to make you comfortable.” He was circling the room again, manipulating levers as he manipulated her. “If you'd rather not take them, so be it.” He shrugged. “But we are heading straight into one of the worst ion storms this part of the universe has ever known. The ride is going to get mighty bumpy in just about,” he checked his watch. It leaked a bit of slime out the corner, “Oh, fifty-seven minutes and eight,” he tapped the watch face, “No, make that eighteen seconds...give or take...on my mark. And...mark.”
“Fifty-seven minutes?” Donna exclaimed. Worry overcame her indignation. She dashed to his side to peer over his shoulder at the churning ion monster on the monitor.
He looked at the watch again. “Fifty-six.”
“Can't you avoid it?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“It's an ion storm,” Donna said, over enunciating as if he were deaf or mentally deficient. “Isn't that dangerous?”
“Nah! Well,” he prevaricated, drawing out his words, “Not very. All right, perhaps a little. Yes. It could certainly be dangerous. And, under normal circumstance, I wouldn't steer straight into an ion storm.” He mussed his hair a bit. “But these aren't ordinary circs. And the TARDIS can weather it easily enough. You on the other hand? Bound to feel a tad queasy. The gravity will probably fluctuate. I'd strap in if I were you,” he advised, patting her on the upper arm. “And keep one of those emergency torches to hand.”
“You are absolutely out of your mind,” Donna declared.
“No, I think I'm right, a torch is probably going to come in handy,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her panicked protest. “The lights might flicker. It could get chilly and we will...possibly. Probably. I should say, probably, be tossed about like salad on a mechanical bull. Still, it's the only way to draw enough energy into the system to let Rose manifest in the flesh.”
“Oh, and Rose must manifest,” Donna remarked, snidely.
The Doctor had turned his attention back to battening down assorted hatches, making sure they could ride out the storm without serious damage to the ship, but this question surprised him so much he glanced up again briefly. Popping his lip at Donna like some insolent teenager, he rolled his eyes as he said, “Yeah.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “I can see I'm not wanted here. I'll be in my room, if anyone cares.” She stormed toward the inner door. “If we blow up or anything...just tell the space paramedics where I am.”
“She's rather funny,” Rose said, as Donna stalked indignantly out. “Where did you pick her up?”
“She beamed in,” the Doctor said, pointing vaguely over his shoulder, then he frowned. “Wedding dress. Big old Racnoss. Don't you remember?”
“I've got no TARDIS memories from Bad Wolf on,” she told him. “The circuit completed at that point and I popped to here.”
“I see,” he peered at her. “So...you don't know about...?”
“Astrid and Martha and Joan and Sylvia and Meryl and that one with the green skin? Oh, yes. I do.”
“From my dream,” he mused. “But none of that was real. You do know?”
Rose sighed as the lights flickered. “I know.”
“And anyway, I was going to say...you don't know about everything I went through. What it was like without you.”
“No,” Rose whispered. “I know about that. I know exactly what that was like.”
Sparks danced across the console as the storm engulfed them. When the lights dimmed, Rose grew brighter, more solid. She laced her glowing fingers through his. Feeling his palm warm against hers, she gave a tiny mew and thought she might vaporize again from the intense joy flaring inside her. To touch him. To lean her head against his shoulder, this was all she needed to be fulfilled. She snuggled closer as he wrapped his other arm around her, grateful to simply stand beside him, holding his hand.
END THIS PART
Click here for PART TWENTY-SIX
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 03:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 07:01 am (UTC)Gee! Knowing that kind of makes mine! And I do enjoy being a Doctor/Rose constant. Though soon it will be coming to an end. I feel a bit melancholy about that. Still, I'm happy that this update taking such a long while worked for you. Thanks for sharing your joy in the infrequency of my updating...that is a very rare compliment.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 04:11 am (UTC)SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
In other notes, I adore your Donna.
Rae, you are a goddess. Today has been utter crap, and this fic has salvaged everything.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 04:35 am (UTC)I was so very worried about her...because she is an approximation, based on so little evidence. But she was fun to write. And I enjoyed her kissing scene.
Thank you so much for your squeeing. I'm happy your day was made better by my update.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 04:38 am (UTC)I just saw one typo I think you may want to change:
While she did have much more sympathy, now, for the Gelth and even a bit for Cassandra, she did want to violate Donna.
I'm presuming she would not... ;)
You continue to amaze and impress me. Seriously, this mammoth may be my favorite Doctor Who fic ever. :)
Donna was brilliant. Her and the Doctor's reactions to the kissing, the Doctor forgetting it's Donna's body in lieu of snogging Rose. Donna's reaction: Oi! The Doctor broke his promise a bit, eh? Fortunately, this one seems to be working out for the best.
The reintegration of Rose was just... wonderful. Especially the moment with Susan. You seem to be able to write in concentric circles that end up overlapping. I heartily, heartily enjoy. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 04:39 am (UTC)You never know, Rose may have a thing for redheads. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-28 04:51 am (UTC)Oh...WOW! Favorite Doctor Who Fic EVA! YES! :does the gloating happy strut around the room: :->
Seriously, thank you for the compliment. Wow! And I'm tickled you liked the Donna rendition. I just think she would be beside herself over the kissing. I see she kisses him in S4 (color me not surprised) but it looks like a Jackie-kiss to me already...and will probably end in sputtering.
And finally...sigh! You are all happy about Rose getting to be one with her family again. I did intend all along for Rose to meet up with Susan this way. I was hard pressed when I separated them and people were so upset about it...not to just tell everyone it would work out so Rose got to spend lots of time with her daughter.
Thank you. Thank you, for sharing the things you enjoy about the fic with me. It means a lot to know that working my story in circles and spending just...forever...obsessing about the wording of one or two lines...makes a difference in the end to someone. Kes, my beta babe, is always telling me I think too much...overthink plot and such...and she's right on one level...but on another level...it does help me get the layers right and it is gratifying when people notice. So, thanks for that.
Rae
This icon is particularly suited to this chapter, I think.
Date: 2008-01-22 04:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 07:03 am (UTC)Glad you liked the reunion. YAY!
Rae
This is a test...this is only a test....
Date: 2008-01-22 04:45 am (UTC)What the hell *is* wrong with LJ tonight???
Okay...trying this again....
Date: 2008-01-22 04:46 am (UTC)Let's see if it'll work *this* time!
*does happy dance* I was just about to go to bed when this popped up in my friends list. Naturally, I *had* to read it immediately! :D
I'm going to have to read this again to try to follow the science-y part. Confusing! But given how incredibly complex it must have been to bring Rose back over to this universe...well, it makes sense that it's confusing!
“You can hear me?”
“Oh, yes. When I listen, it's quite easy.”
Isn't that just this entire fic in a nutshell. *Brilliant* dialog. I love this bit SO much.
I also love how it all comes back around to holding hands. It always seems to come down to that in the end, for them. Probably the perfect symbol of their relationship. *happy sigh*
Oh, and Donna possessed by Rose? Brilliant. I couldn't stop giggling at her utter disgust at having kissed the Doctor. Hee.
Full on review is forthcoming (I'll try to do it this week, but don't be surprised if I wait until next weekend). I can't believe there's only one chapter left. Wow. Just...wow.
Re: Okay...trying this again....
From:Re: Okay...trying this again....
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 05:37 am (UTC)YAYAYAYAYAY! And... another cliffhanger. You are killing me!!! BUT I LOVE IT.
:3 I'm really more intelligent than I tend to sound in these comments. I swear. I just tend to be at a loss for good words after a fic that I love makes me love it even more.
*Squee explosion!*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 07:07 am (UTC)Anyway...I am happy to have inspired both a squee explosion AND a happy dance of glee. I know you are very intelligent...I've seen you elsewhere on LJ. :snort: No, seriously, you don't sound like your babbling to me. You seem very glib and to the point with your YAYAYAYAYAYAY!
Thank you for it.
Rae
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 05:46 am (UTC)In closing, so much love for this fic!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 07:12 am (UTC)Second...I'm so happy to hear you found my Donna voice perfect. And it was a bit hard on her, having the Doctor and Rose using her body like that...still...they didn't really MEAN to violate her. I'm sure she'll recover from it all.
As for the reintegration...yay! You found it neat...and you saw the timey-wimey-ness of it all. And I was also happy that Rose and Susan got to spend a very long time together. They went to find the Doctor together...and Rose got to meet David...and all of the Doctor's many companions. She really is a complete part of his life now.
In closing...so much love for you and your feedback. Thanks.
Rae
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 07:40 am (UTC)I also loved how you treated the procession of girls (Rose's reaction was spot-on), and as always, you captured the voices of Ten, Rose, and Donna wonderfully.
*is now wondering whether Rose will get her body back or that of an android*
And to end this comment, I will just say that I am blaming you and this fic on the fact that I am not yet asleep and have internship things in the morning. Bad fic. Bad way too good for its own good fic. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-23 06:14 am (UTC)I did get it all pretty well mapped out and, while I don't know that I haven't got continuity troubles, I hope most of them are explained away by the finish line. It was also very tempting for me to dwell on the time with Susan or some of the other moments she shared with the Doctor in the past...but I thought I should stick to the main storyline. And thank you so much for calling it both brilliant and daring.
I am tickled that you enjoyed the progression of girls...yes, Rose is likely to get a bit upset about that, I think. I am sorry the fic and I kept you for a good night's sleep. And now, I've given you even more to think about. Thanks for leaving me interesting and thoughtful feedback. I love when people have questions.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 08:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-23 06:16 am (UTC)Thank you for the *clapping.
:bows:
:grins:
:runs away:
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 06:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-23 06:19 am (UTC)Rae
thinking life might often (though not always as some people would have us believe) be unfair but there is no reason for fiction to be unfair at all.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 06:49 pm (UTC)I like how you wrote Donna. Poor thing snogged by the Martian!
It makes me kinda sad that this adventure is soon to end.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 08:17 pm (UTC)The TARDIS is capable of manifesting a physical body for Rose but she doesn't have the necessary to power to sustain life. She could make Rose like Jack, a fixed point in time, a sort of loop of energy...but she doesn't want to do that because the Doctor ran away from Jack. So, she's stymied. The Doctor gives her a power source...with the ion storm...and Rose is able to manifest while the TARDIS drains the ion storm of energy. They could also burn up a sun or something...but they are going to have problems if they have to continue taking such extreme measures.
Luckily, I have a way to solve this problem. It will just takes a bit of time for the Doctor to work it out and then for Rose to make it possible. They will all have to work together to solve this one.
Glad you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks ever so much for asking the right questions and following along with the story for all this time.
Rae
(no subject)
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Date: 2008-01-22 08:11 pm (UTC)can't wait for the next, though it's sad it will be the end!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-22 08:22 pm (UTC)Still, I imagine once I get a little distance on this work...I will be able to focus on the new storyline. It is leaping off of the premise that RTD and DT put forward that the Doctor and Rose never had sex...so it takes us to a different place and presents a different type of relationship...but hopefully...it is still one you will enjoy. And there's always room for one or two Disheveled one-shots, I think...as we have lots of scope to play with this concept.
Thanks so much for coming back to share your thoughts with me about the chapter...that is very high praise to say you feel as if you've watched an episode. I do love my Ten...and his babbling on about things. And Rose is always lovable, in my mind, emotionally intent from time to time...but lovable always.
Rae
Late to the party, here, but -
From:Re: Late to the party, here, but -
From:Re: Late to the party, here, but -
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-23 03:13 am (UTC)Loved the chapters. Lovely to have Rose back. And it makes sense that they'd need an enormous amount of power -- energy = mass times the speed of light, squared, after all.
I remember from, oh, chapter 5 or so, that Susan's development was accelerated, in the first few days after her conception. Will we finally learn why in Chapter 26?
I'll be sorry it's finally ending, but glad you'll be able to move on to other things. And glad those new things include new Doctor Who stories.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-23 06:08 am (UTC)I do hope that Donna and the Doctor continue to have their sibling dynamic in S4. I really think once we tone Donna down just a tad she will make an excellent companion.
I am happy my science meets with your approval. :grin: As I told someone else...it also isn't just the energy...it's the independent sustaining of energy. The TARDIS mechanical interface needs refueling to function. People need refueling, too...but we do a lot of internal converting of matter to energy then back to matter again. Life, as I mention elsewhere, is a process. Jack is a fact, as the Doctor put it. He simply goes back to the way he was after he is killed. And the Doctor doesn't like that...so Rose can't be brought back like Jack was...or it will bother the Doctor. And neither the TARDIS nor Rose want to bother the Doctor.
Thanks so very much for hanging with me as this story has progressed. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness in commenting and your intelligent insights throughout.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-24 05:07 pm (UTC)And what an adventure Rose has been on... wow, just wow! Susan, she met her daughter again and this reduced my silly old self to tears again! Infact I bubbled a lot during this, thank you, I feel much better now too!
I cant believe it is the end, or nearly the end... Do you get a huge sense of completion and self worth all fuzzy like when you finish a mammoth project like this. I would be opening the bubbly feeling proud as punch if it was me!
Looking forward to the conclusion...will i need more tissues?
Kelly xx
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-28 04:42 am (UTC)And I love you for telling me I'm a genius. Even though I'm not perfectly convinced yet, that I am. I have not seen the Children in Need special with the "space boy"...I only saw the Time Crash part and the confidential.
Yes...Rose is a bit Disheveled just now. And she did get to spend some quality time with her daughter...and all of the Doctors...and all of the other people he's loved. She knows he inside and out now. And still loves him. Which is really kind of a miracle.
I have mentioned your question about "completion" to everyone...because I don't really...nor do I celebrate. And I think maybe that's something I should work on for the future. Because HEY! It is a bit of a big project this. I tend to feel let down after...like empty nested. But really...HUZZAH! You are right! I shall celebrate. My sweetie said he would take me out to dinner.
And yes...you will need tissues...but not for sadness. There is one quite scary/sad part...but then it is all fluffy and smooshy from there on...so brace yourself through the scary part...and you'll be okay.
Rae
(no subject)
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From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-25 04:16 am (UTC)Alas, some of the other mothers wanted to chat so I didn't get to read it yet. OR to do any of the work I'd brought along - you'd think me sitting there with a clipboard, a stack of printouts, and a pencil would give people a clue that I'm not interested in idle conversation, but noooooo. *sigh*
But it is on my pda and I *will* read it SOON - I'm going nuts knowing it's there and not having time to read it! I *love* my pda - I've dl'd lots of my favorite DW fanfic for on-the-go enjoyment. Games too. It's great for boring meetings - it looks like I'm busily working but I'm really reading Disheveled or doing a sudoku puzzle or something. (grin!)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-25 04:22 am (UTC)Rae
who will just wait here patiently until you have read...no probs
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-01 08:06 am (UTC)I love the humor and happiness of this part as well. The three way conversations between Rose and Donna and the Doctor (is it technically three-way if Donna can't hear Rose? Well, no matter, I thought it was brilliant anyway), the synchronized remarks, the shenanigans...this was great fun to read, and I can only hope it was half as fun to write.
As always, there's such a rich level of vivid detail...from the squeak of the Doctor's trainers on the iron grating to the height difference between Rose and Donna. It really makes what I'm reading come to life, though that's hardly new where your writing is concerned. Throughout this whole epic, I've always been able to immerse myself in the story, and that's down to the incredible, complete world you've built here.
Oh, and I can't forget - it's amazing how you continue to weave bits and strands of the TV show into this fic. As far as this has moved into AU territory, it never completely loses its connection to the show, and in fact, you've come up with some truly inspired ways to tie it all together.
And you leave us with the image of the two of them, standing together, holding hands. And it isn't only Rose that is feeling like vaporizing with joy.
I really, really do enjoy every moment of reading this. What a wonderful story, and what a wonderful love we have between the Doctor and his Rose. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-03 12:57 am (UTC)For all the "friends" he has...the Doctor doesn't really have a lot of friends. He doesn't generally have a peer relationship with the people traveling beside him. He instructs them, shows them things...but usually it is a one way relationship. I think he was almost friends with Sarah Jane and was definitely friends with the Brig...and Jamie. But I don't think he's friends with Jack, yet. And most of the companions...were people he liked, certainly, but also people he led about and could easily leave behind. Rose isn't like that. Rose was literally his friend (and also his wife :smirk: ), but it is, I think, important that he refers to Rose as his friend, too. I feel he means it in a way that is different from what he feels for most people.
And I'm happy you enjoyed the happy. I wanted to show the Doctor having a good time again. And I thought since Rose was onboard, he could relax into a more festive persona than we saw in S3. I think if they settle the issue upfront about romance with Donna...we will have a lighter tone for S4. And it is always fun to write Ten as bubbly and rambling.
The detail, as I've mentioned, comes about from studying David's kinetic performance. I have to move as I work out his lines, because that movement is so much a part of who this regeneration is. And I like to have grounding in sensations, sight, sound, the feel of things. I think it does allow the reader to sink into the story a bit more.
Thanks for the compliment about my weaving this into canon. It has been quite the bumpy ride for me at times. But finally it works perfectly. As long as I finish up before anything else happens in canon...I should be fine. I nearly had a meltdown when I started worrying about Astrid being part of the TARDIS...and you can see why, now! But luckily that was only a rumor. I swear I am like a sensitive plant when it comes to how the littlest thing can throw me off my ficwriting stride.
Thank you so much for always taking the time to encourage me. Thanks for time and again giving me a reason to keep at the story. On the days when I felt I should just chuck it all in...the thought of my readers waiting over a year for this story to finish...waiting for the next chapter, sometimes for months...kept me coming back to the word processor. I'm so happy we've gotten to the last bit together. And I hope it ends in a way that satisfies.
Rae
I am finally here...
Date: 2008-02-05 08:50 pm (UTC)I love Donna. I sincerely hope she approximates your portrayal of her in the real series, akin to how brassy she seemed in the trailer immediately after VotD rather than the cinema one floating around. I'm fed up of people fancying the Doctor. Having read this chapter, I can see why Martha suppressed your Muse; the Doctor wouldn't have known it was Rose possessing Martha as Martha already had sexual designs on the Doctor. I hope Donna doesn't feel left out with Rose's return.
I also like your portrayal of Ten here, back to being the bouncy adventurer in public, but being haunted (literally and metaphorically) when he was alone. I think it's refreshing that the Doctor has denial about Rose's return; after the Master it's easy for him to believe creatures would use his feelings for her against him (hell, that was true even in Dalek).
I'm debating with myself whether I like the extent of Rose's jealousy; I think I'm imprinting my peacemaking attempts to rectify tGitF. Your take on tGitF in Disheveled is maintaining the jealousy, but by the time they are in Barcelona she realises she needn't have been jealous as she sees the Doctor belongs to her alone. Then I think she didn't have a lot of time (her Mothers pregnancy) in the alt universe to grow up/mature. I wonder if all the time of trusting the Doctor not to stray was undone with their enforced separation.
Onto the plot, full circle and the potential of 'forever.' Here, Rose literally sees all of the Doctor's life and still wants to be with him. Rose gets closure with her daughter. Rose also learns and accepts the truth of Bad Wolf, becoming the Doctor's equal in abilities and his teacher in emotions. This is where she belongs. The question is whether Rose is ready to share the Doctor not only with companions but their children as well.
Lisa
Who gets the technobabble, having been raised on the X-Files
Welcome...good to have you
Date: 2008-02-05 10:19 pm (UTC)As for her jealousy here...I don't think that she is reacting relative to her previous experiences with him. She's got a new set of problems. She has no physical body. For a human, especially a vital young woman like Rose, that has to raise insecurities. Without the benefit of the understanding that comes later...she's only thinking of what she's lost...the ability to physically comfort him. It will be different now that she's shared all of his life with him...but then...she was seeing other's replacing her. Believing he loved her, she might still feel jealous when confronted with her replacements. And then...one of them was Martha...who she probably already harbored slight pangs of jealousy over about Mickey.
And, of course, that is exactly the problem with Martha...she would have made the encounter all about her sexual needs and completely muddied the waters with jealousy. So, Donna was a godsend for me. And I, also, hope she is more along these lines as I, too, am fed to the back teeth with people moping over the Doctor. I think that he has a natural charisma that helps people fall under his spell...we see that with the Master, too...but, I want him to start nipping the lovelorn business in the bud. And also I want a companion or two I can respect.
Thank you so much for taking the time for thoughtful commentary. Hope I can give your travelogue the same sort of loving attention. I really appreciate you stopping by.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-25 06:26 am (UTC)*grin*
Hey, I'm a Jewish mother, I *have* a Jewish mother, and I grew up with an often amazingly stereotypical Jewish grandmother. I'm very good with the guilt. ;-)