amberfocus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amberfocus) wrote2010-02-22 02:04 pm
amberfocus) wrote2010-02-22 02:04 pm
Entry tags:
Somewhere Nice (1/1)
Title: Somewhere Nice
Author:![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
amberfocus
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose
Genre: Romance, Fluff, wee touch of angst
Rating: Teen
Betas:amyo67, jeprdyfrndly
Summary: Set a week after Father's Day. Rose isn't feeling herself after seeing her father die, and watching the Doctor die and come back to her. Emotionally strung out and tired of risking her life, she asks the Doctor for one day off to just go somewhere nice. Written for round 3 of the![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
storm_and_wolf ficathon.
A/N: Pictures of Rose's dress and necklace are at the end of the story.
Picture Prompt:
“So what are you in the mood for?” the Doctor asks. Rose Tyler is sitting on the jump seat, knees tucked up under her chin, arms wrapped around them, staring off into space. She says nothing. “Rose?”
“Hmm?” Her attention is still only half on him.
“I asked you where you wanted to go today.”
He’s restless as he always is when they stay in the vortex for too long. His energy is building, barely contained as he starts to pace back and forth, shooting her worried little looks. She sighs. “Oh. I don’t know.” She does know, but she’s just…well, it’s been a rough few weeks. She just wants something different. Something…something else. Something she can’t quite put into words. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You must have a preference,” he says. He’s so eager to please it’s ridiculous. He’s been like this ever since her father died in her arms, trying to throw them into new adventures so they don’t have to take the time to breathe, let alone think about all that’s happened. Let alone talk. It’s only been a week but somehow it feels like months. She glances at him, realizes he’s waiting for an answer.
“I guess somewhere nice.”
“Nice?” he says as if the word is anathema to him.
“Safe,” she adds.
“Safe?” She’s turned him into a parrot, apparently. When did it stop being easy between them? But she knows the answer to that. She’s not ready to deal with it, but she knows it. It was the day both he and her father died. He’d come back to her and she’d felt…she’d felt so much and she doesn’t know how to handle any of it.
She looks up at him then, tears on the edge of her lower lids that she’s struggling to hold back. All she wants is just a few short hours where she doesn’t have to feel brave, where she can relax, refresh, renew, not worry about dying. She wants a day off. “Just for one day. I want to go somewhere where holding your hand doesn’t automatically mean running for my life.”
He just stares at her. Finally she shrugs. “It’s not important. Wherever you want is fine.” She slips off the jump seat and heads for the corridor. “I’ll be in my room trying to get some sleep.”
“Were you awake again all night?” he asks.
She nods. “Yeah. Let me know when we’ve landed.” She takes her leave.
By the time they land Rose has been asleep for a few hours. It took him a while to find somewhere that met her qualifications. He creeps into her room and stands above her, watching her with concerned eyes, relieved to see there are no tear stains on her face or pillow. Rose has always been so strong. Today she seems fragile. She’s hurting, he knows that. Confused, too. He’s just not sure what to do about it. He’s loath to wake her. She’s at such peace right now. His hand reaches out to stroke the hair back from her face, to wake her gently. But she moves, crying out in her sleep, not so much at peace after all, and he pulls back, startled.
It’s his name she utters. She does it with such heartbreak that it pulls at him. He sits down on the bed, his bent knee pressing against her thigh. She calls for him again and there is loss in her voice. He reaches out and shakes her shoulder gently and her eyes fly wide. “D-Doctor,” she says.
“I’m here.”
She surges up, her arms going around him, snaking inside his leather jacket, and her face burying itself in his jumper. His arms go around her in reflex, holding her tightly, stroking her hair, the urge to kiss the top of her head very strong. He doesn’t.
“Not dead,” she whispers.
“Nope,” he agrees. “Alive and kicking. We’ve landed.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe,” he says. “Somewhere nice.” He can’t quite hide the disgust in his voice. Rose laughs for the first time in days and pulls away from him.
She meets his eyes and smiles. “Thank you.”
He nods and can’t help but smile back at her, his irritation at a nice location fading immediately in the face of her happiness. “The TARDIS has clothes for you to change into, if you like. Something appropriate for the era. You’ll stand out if you don’t. But if not, it’s a beautiful day here, very warm and we can keep out of sight of the general population.”
“Okay.”
Rose wanders to the wardrobe room and immediately finds the dress hanging from a dressmaker’s dummy near the door. Her breath catches in her throat. There is no way she’s not wearing it. It looks like a ball gown, something out of the antebellum south of the United States. The bodice has a built-in corset and an ordinary zipper, she notes with relief. Some of the outfits the Doctor has had her wear have been ridiculous. It’s mostly white with vertical lines of deep burgundy velvet ribbon separating white panels of cloth embroidered with red roses. It is off the shoulders and has tiny cap sleeves disguised with two large, burgundy roses on either arm.
Below the fitted waist, just above the hips, the bodice comes to an end in a V of embroidered lace and red roses. The skirt balloons out, large gathers keeping it from becoming too unwieldy. The full white skirt has appliqués along the bottom hem and two large upside down V’s, one inside the other, of the same lace and roses that fountain outwards. A built-in puffy underskirt holds it out and up. It is so beautiful she’s almost afraid to touch it.
A soft, reassuring hum comes from the TARDIS and a pair of dainty, burgundy walking slippers appear on a shelf behind the dress. With a smile Rose strips off her clothes and steps into the dress, pulling it up over her body and zipping it into place, then slips into the pretty shoes and turns to the mirror. She uses the large silver hair brush to put her hair up, pinning it into place with some old-fashioned fasteners. Tendrils of hair tumble down to frame her face. There is a large square box and Rose opens it to find a beautiful necklace with clusters of stones, each one forming a flower across the entire length of it. The center of each flower is a deeply colored ruby, each one surrounded by six diamond petals. With great care she places it around her neck. She has never felt so beautiful in her life.
She’s surprised when she walks into the console room and finds the Doctor out of his normal jumper and jeans. He’s never changed for their location before, except once or twice to put on a cleaner set of clothes. Today he’s wearing breeches that cling to him in ways that make her blush because she’s not supposed to notice things like that about the Doctor. She hasn’t seen breeches that tight on a man since she picked a fantasy at random from his massive 20th century collection of Earth movies and watched Labyrinth, but the Doctor puts even King Jareth to shame. They are white and fit him like a second skin, disappearing into rich burgundy boots that come to his knees.
He’s wearing a tail coat of the same dark velvet as the lines on her bodice and a shirt with more ruffles at the cuff and throat then she’d have ever dreamed he’d be caught in the same room with, let alone wearing. He’s a gorgeous man. How had she not ever noticed that before? He’s always been magnetic, drawn her to him like a hummingbird to sweet nectar, but the slow wave of violent attraction creeping through her is something very new. She looks her fill before making a soft noise of approval and drawing his attention to her.
He turns and his jaw literally drops open and when he looks at her his eyes seem to linger on the tightly fitted bodice a touch too long. “You’re beautiful,” he says, awe in his voice.
“It’s the dress,” she says, blushing and looking away from his gaze, dark with something she doesn’t quite recognize.
“It isn’t the dress,” he says and his voice is much lower than a moment ago. “It’s the lady in it.”
“I’m no lady,” Rose says rolling her eyes and trying to relieve the sudden tension.
“All the better for me,” the Doctor says and it’s his turn to blush to the tips of his ears and turn away at the filthy way those five words sounded falling from his lips. Rose’s heart is suddenly pounding quite fast in her chest. He folds a blanket over his arm and picks up a large hamper then opens the doors of the ship and the two of them walk down the ramp and step through them.
“Where are we?” she says taking in a deep breath. The air is heavily scented with the rich, sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
“The planet Serena. It’s an idyllic place of garden parties and balls and,” he makes a big sweeping gesture with one arm, “girly stuff. Bit like those romance novels you’re always reading.”
“What, the bodice rippers?” she asks, surprised he’s paid that much attention to her choice of reading material. As she says bodice rippers his eyes fall onto the bodice of her own dress before he can stop himself. Abruptly he turns away.
“Thought you’d like it.” His voice is strained.
“And are we going to a ball or a garden party?” she asks him.
“Nah, neither. With my luck it’d end in an alien invasion and ruin your day off. Just thought we’d have a picnic by the lake,” he says.
“We’re awfully dressed up for just a picnic,” she says.
“Well, it’s what people do here. Dress up fancy, pretend they’re from a gentler time, and have massive parties that last for days. Jeans and t-shirts would make it awfully clear that we’re not from around here. And that we didn’t pay the fee to be on the planet. Besides, I’ve been wanting to see you in that dress since the TARDIS dug it up a few weeks ago.” He blushes again, as if he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. “Wouldn’t have been fair of me not to dress up, too.” His eyes are back on her chest.
“So where’s this lake?” she asks pretending not to notice the glances and the blushes. She looks down quickly, away from his face, and as her eyes are drawn back to the front of his breeches she has to look even more quickly away from those.
“Just this way,” he says. He reaches out for her hand and she laces her fingers through his, the comforting, familiar touch settling the unnerving thoughts she’s starting to have. “Holding your hand without running for our lives,” he murmurs as they start down the path.
She smiles widely and swings their hands between them. They follow a bend in the path and suddenly emerge from the woods into a wide glade. A huge tree with fragrant orange flowers stretches its branches above the lake, its reflection mirrored perfectly in the motionless water before them. A castle rises from the far shore, one spire reaching high in the center. The brick is a pale orange, and a huge arched doorway is surrounded by arching windows just as large. It too has a second image that shines from the glassy lake.
She can see several people in formal dress milling about over there and is sure it is one of the garden parties that the Doctor had mentioned. The sound of laughter and conversation echoes very faintly across the water. She turns to the Doctor only to find him looking at her. “We can go if you really want to,” he says gently. But she doesn’t want to.
“No,” she says. “I just…I want to be alone with you.” Her eyes brush across his, skittering quickly away as he drops her hand and sets the hamper down. He shakes out the blanket and she grabs one end and together they spread it out. He takes her hand again and helps her sit down, making sure the exquisite dress is completely on the blanket before sitting down himself and unpacking the hamper.
He’s chosen their food according to how easy it would be to eat and not ruin their clothing. Simple things like a huge variety of cheeses and crackers, green grapes, bananas, and clear, white wine that will leave no apparent stain if spilled. Once he’s filled his plate he stretches out his long legs and leans his back against a tree, watching her.
They eat in silence, Rose’s eyes constantly being drawn to the flowers in the glade, the birds chirping softly in the trees, once even a doe and two fawns at the edge of the meadow. The mother eyes them but sensing no threat takes a few steps forward, the gangly youngsters following her and beginning to graze as she keeps watch.
The sounds of the party draw her eyes again, but she still has no wish to go there. She’d far rather snuggle up in the Doctor’s arms and spend the afternoon talking to him about anything and everything. It’s been a while since they’ve talked. It’s like they’ve been avoiding it ever since they left the Reapers behind them. It’s hard to start a conversation, harder still when she’s looking him in the eye.
As the meal draws to a close, the Doctor puts the remnants and the linen cloths away and moves the basket out of the way. His sprawling legs open, making a place for her and he opens his arms. “Come here,” he says softly, as if he’s afraid to break the charm of the quiet that has fallen between them.
Rose gathers her skirts and eases across the blanket to him, settling with her back firmly against his chest. The ruffles tickle a bit at the exposed part of her shoulder blades. His arms come around her and she leans her head into the hollow of his shoulder. Her hands rest atop his and she strokes lightly against the back of one hand with a forefinger.
“Talk to me,” he says and it’s as if he’s drawn the cork from a bottle as everything she’s been thinking about rushes out of her like bubbling champagne. All of her worries, her fears about losing him like she almost did when they visited her parents in the past, and her doubts about whether he still wants her travelling with him, flood out.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t still want you travelling with me?”
“That argument we had, back in my dad’s flat…we both said a lot of things,” she says.
“Things we didn’t mean. At least…I didn’t mean them,” he tells her. His arms tighten around her.
“So you don’t think…you don’t think I’m stupid?” she queries, her body tensing as she asks it.
“Stupid? What would make you think I thought you were…?” He trails off remembering their argument. “No. I don’t think you’re stupid, nor an ape, Rose. I think you were right. I didn’t like not being the most important man in your life.”
“But you are,” she interrupts. “I didn’t realize, not until you died and I thought I’d lost you forever. You are the most important man in my life and I…I’m having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that I’m just…I’m just Rose Tyler. You’re this amazing, marvelous man and I’m just a girl.”
“Not just a girl,” he says. “You think I take just anyone with me, Rose? ‘Cause I don’t. I don’t tolerate fools and I don’t carry people who can’t pull their own weight in a crisis. You do more than that. You’ve saved me half a dozen times. There’s no one I trust more with my life than you. You hold my life in these fragile little hands.” He takes her hands then, holds them out in front of them. “Sometimes you hold my hearts there, too.” The last he says on a rush of air as if making a confession he’d never intended to.
Rose pulls away from his body and turns to look at him. He looks nervous, almost scared. Him, scared, her big, bold Time Lord. He can stand up to a Dalek or a Slitheen, but in matters of the hearts, he seems as young as she is. Those feelings that have been so new and so strong this last week come rushing to the surface and she bites her lip, as nervous as he. His eyes fall to her lip and he unconsciously licks his own. That decides her.
With a fluttering, racing heart she leans towards him. She presses her lips against his. He returns the pressure softly. It’s over almost as quickly as it begins as she backs away and looks into his eyes. The emotion in them scares her. His hand settles on her waist, tugging her back towards him and this time when their lips meet her mouth opens to him and he takes her unspoken invitation, entering with slow, hesitant strokes of his tongue against hers.
Her hand rises to the back of his neck, holding him firmly in place as he continues his exploration. His hand moves from her waist to her back, bringing her closer still until her side is pushed up against his torso. It’s a kiss filled with longing and with promise and she nearly lets out a little sob when it finally ends, so bereft does she feel without it.
His arms close around her again and she lies against him, listening to the thudding beat of his hearts, wildly at odds with each other’s rhythm. They stay that way for a long time, and the rest, the renewal that Rose needed desperately settles upon her. There is peace and she builds it up within her, a bolster against the future craziness she knows is coming the next day or the next. She stores strength, strength from the beauty of this place, and strength from him.
Twilight begins to fall and with a sigh of reluctance the Doctor speaks. “Time to head back to the ship, I suppose,” he says.
Rose nods her head. They separate and the Doctor scrambles to his feet, reaches for her hands and helps her to stand. She straightens out the dress and then helps him fold up the blanket. When he’s ready he reaches for her hand and slowly they walk back to the TARDIS.
Once in the console room he sends them into the vortex. “Doctor?” she asks.
“Yes, Rose?”
“Thank you. I needed this day. I love the running, I love the adventure, but I think sometimes I just…I need a day away from it all. Away from all of it but you,” she tells him.
He smiles. “I think I can arrange that.”
She walks to the door and stops, turning to look back at him. “What…what does this mean?” she asks. “We kissed.”
“Yes, we did.”
“Well, what…what happens now?” she wants to know. He strides to her side and kisses her again, this time leaving her breathless.
“Now the real adventure begins,” he says. Rose smiles. She finds that for now, it’s answer enough.
Author:
amberfocusCharacters/Pairings: Nine/Rose
Genre: Romance, Fluff, wee touch of angst
Rating: Teen
Betas:
amyo67, jeprdyfrndlySummary: Set a week after Father's Day. Rose isn't feeling herself after seeing her father die, and watching the Doctor die and come back to her. Emotionally strung out and tired of risking her life, she asks the Doctor for one day off to just go somewhere nice. Written for round 3 of the
storm_and_wolf ficathon.A/N: Pictures of Rose's dress and necklace are at the end of the story.
Picture Prompt:
Somewhere Nice
“So what are you in the mood for?” the Doctor asks. Rose Tyler is sitting on the jump seat, knees tucked up under her chin, arms wrapped around them, staring off into space. She says nothing. “Rose?”
“Hmm?” Her attention is still only half on him.
“I asked you where you wanted to go today.”
He’s restless as he always is when they stay in the vortex for too long. His energy is building, barely contained as he starts to pace back and forth, shooting her worried little looks. She sighs. “Oh. I don’t know.” She does know, but she’s just…well, it’s been a rough few weeks. She just wants something different. Something…something else. Something she can’t quite put into words. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You must have a preference,” he says. He’s so eager to please it’s ridiculous. He’s been like this ever since her father died in her arms, trying to throw them into new adventures so they don’t have to take the time to breathe, let alone think about all that’s happened. Let alone talk. It’s only been a week but somehow it feels like months. She glances at him, realizes he’s waiting for an answer.
“I guess somewhere nice.”
“Nice?” he says as if the word is anathema to him.
“Safe,” she adds.
“Safe?” She’s turned him into a parrot, apparently. When did it stop being easy between them? But she knows the answer to that. She’s not ready to deal with it, but she knows it. It was the day both he and her father died. He’d come back to her and she’d felt…she’d felt so much and she doesn’t know how to handle any of it.
She looks up at him then, tears on the edge of her lower lids that she’s struggling to hold back. All she wants is just a few short hours where she doesn’t have to feel brave, where she can relax, refresh, renew, not worry about dying. She wants a day off. “Just for one day. I want to go somewhere where holding your hand doesn’t automatically mean running for my life.”
He just stares at her. Finally she shrugs. “It’s not important. Wherever you want is fine.” She slips off the jump seat and heads for the corridor. “I’ll be in my room trying to get some sleep.”
“Were you awake again all night?” he asks.
She nods. “Yeah. Let me know when we’ve landed.” She takes her leave.
By the time they land Rose has been asleep for a few hours. It took him a while to find somewhere that met her qualifications. He creeps into her room and stands above her, watching her with concerned eyes, relieved to see there are no tear stains on her face or pillow. Rose has always been so strong. Today she seems fragile. She’s hurting, he knows that. Confused, too. He’s just not sure what to do about it. He’s loath to wake her. She’s at such peace right now. His hand reaches out to stroke the hair back from her face, to wake her gently. But she moves, crying out in her sleep, not so much at peace after all, and he pulls back, startled.
It’s his name she utters. She does it with such heartbreak that it pulls at him. He sits down on the bed, his bent knee pressing against her thigh. She calls for him again and there is loss in her voice. He reaches out and shakes her shoulder gently and her eyes fly wide. “D-Doctor,” she says.
“I’m here.”
She surges up, her arms going around him, snaking inside his leather jacket, and her face burying itself in his jumper. His arms go around her in reflex, holding her tightly, stroking her hair, the urge to kiss the top of her head very strong. He doesn’t.
“Not dead,” she whispers.
“Nope,” he agrees. “Alive and kicking. We’ve landed.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe,” he says. “Somewhere nice.” He can’t quite hide the disgust in his voice. Rose laughs for the first time in days and pulls away from him.
She meets his eyes and smiles. “Thank you.”
He nods and can’t help but smile back at her, his irritation at a nice location fading immediately in the face of her happiness. “The TARDIS has clothes for you to change into, if you like. Something appropriate for the era. You’ll stand out if you don’t. But if not, it’s a beautiful day here, very warm and we can keep out of sight of the general population.”
“Okay.”
Rose wanders to the wardrobe room and immediately finds the dress hanging from a dressmaker’s dummy near the door. Her breath catches in her throat. There is no way she’s not wearing it. It looks like a ball gown, something out of the antebellum south of the United States. The bodice has a built-in corset and an ordinary zipper, she notes with relief. Some of the outfits the Doctor has had her wear have been ridiculous. It’s mostly white with vertical lines of deep burgundy velvet ribbon separating white panels of cloth embroidered with red roses. It is off the shoulders and has tiny cap sleeves disguised with two large, burgundy roses on either arm.
Below the fitted waist, just above the hips, the bodice comes to an end in a V of embroidered lace and red roses. The skirt balloons out, large gathers keeping it from becoming too unwieldy. The full white skirt has appliqués along the bottom hem and two large upside down V’s, one inside the other, of the same lace and roses that fountain outwards. A built-in puffy underskirt holds it out and up. It is so beautiful she’s almost afraid to touch it.
A soft, reassuring hum comes from the TARDIS and a pair of dainty, burgundy walking slippers appear on a shelf behind the dress. With a smile Rose strips off her clothes and steps into the dress, pulling it up over her body and zipping it into place, then slips into the pretty shoes and turns to the mirror. She uses the large silver hair brush to put her hair up, pinning it into place with some old-fashioned fasteners. Tendrils of hair tumble down to frame her face. There is a large square box and Rose opens it to find a beautiful necklace with clusters of stones, each one forming a flower across the entire length of it. The center of each flower is a deeply colored ruby, each one surrounded by six diamond petals. With great care she places it around her neck. She has never felt so beautiful in her life.
She’s surprised when she walks into the console room and finds the Doctor out of his normal jumper and jeans. He’s never changed for their location before, except once or twice to put on a cleaner set of clothes. Today he’s wearing breeches that cling to him in ways that make her blush because she’s not supposed to notice things like that about the Doctor. She hasn’t seen breeches that tight on a man since she picked a fantasy at random from his massive 20th century collection of Earth movies and watched Labyrinth, but the Doctor puts even King Jareth to shame. They are white and fit him like a second skin, disappearing into rich burgundy boots that come to his knees.
He’s wearing a tail coat of the same dark velvet as the lines on her bodice and a shirt with more ruffles at the cuff and throat then she’d have ever dreamed he’d be caught in the same room with, let alone wearing. He’s a gorgeous man. How had she not ever noticed that before? He’s always been magnetic, drawn her to him like a hummingbird to sweet nectar, but the slow wave of violent attraction creeping through her is something very new. She looks her fill before making a soft noise of approval and drawing his attention to her.
He turns and his jaw literally drops open and when he looks at her his eyes seem to linger on the tightly fitted bodice a touch too long. “You’re beautiful,” he says, awe in his voice.
“It’s the dress,” she says, blushing and looking away from his gaze, dark with something she doesn’t quite recognize.
“It isn’t the dress,” he says and his voice is much lower than a moment ago. “It’s the lady in it.”
“I’m no lady,” Rose says rolling her eyes and trying to relieve the sudden tension.
“All the better for me,” the Doctor says and it’s his turn to blush to the tips of his ears and turn away at the filthy way those five words sounded falling from his lips. Rose’s heart is suddenly pounding quite fast in her chest. He folds a blanket over his arm and picks up a large hamper then opens the doors of the ship and the two of them walk down the ramp and step through them.
“Where are we?” she says taking in a deep breath. The air is heavily scented with the rich, sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.
“The planet Serena. It’s an idyllic place of garden parties and balls and,” he makes a big sweeping gesture with one arm, “girly stuff. Bit like those romance novels you’re always reading.”
“What, the bodice rippers?” she asks, surprised he’s paid that much attention to her choice of reading material. As she says bodice rippers his eyes fall onto the bodice of her own dress before he can stop himself. Abruptly he turns away.
“Thought you’d like it.” His voice is strained.
“And are we going to a ball or a garden party?” she asks him.
“Nah, neither. With my luck it’d end in an alien invasion and ruin your day off. Just thought we’d have a picnic by the lake,” he says.
“We’re awfully dressed up for just a picnic,” she says.
“Well, it’s what people do here. Dress up fancy, pretend they’re from a gentler time, and have massive parties that last for days. Jeans and t-shirts would make it awfully clear that we’re not from around here. And that we didn’t pay the fee to be on the planet. Besides, I’ve been wanting to see you in that dress since the TARDIS dug it up a few weeks ago.” He blushes again, as if he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. “Wouldn’t have been fair of me not to dress up, too.” His eyes are back on her chest.
“So where’s this lake?” she asks pretending not to notice the glances and the blushes. She looks down quickly, away from his face, and as her eyes are drawn back to the front of his breeches she has to look even more quickly away from those.
“Just this way,” he says. He reaches out for her hand and she laces her fingers through his, the comforting, familiar touch settling the unnerving thoughts she’s starting to have. “Holding your hand without running for our lives,” he murmurs as they start down the path.
She smiles widely and swings their hands between them. They follow a bend in the path and suddenly emerge from the woods into a wide glade. A huge tree with fragrant orange flowers stretches its branches above the lake, its reflection mirrored perfectly in the motionless water before them. A castle rises from the far shore, one spire reaching high in the center. The brick is a pale orange, and a huge arched doorway is surrounded by arching windows just as large. It too has a second image that shines from the glassy lake.
She can see several people in formal dress milling about over there and is sure it is one of the garden parties that the Doctor had mentioned. The sound of laughter and conversation echoes very faintly across the water. She turns to the Doctor only to find him looking at her. “We can go if you really want to,” he says gently. But she doesn’t want to.
“No,” she says. “I just…I want to be alone with you.” Her eyes brush across his, skittering quickly away as he drops her hand and sets the hamper down. He shakes out the blanket and she grabs one end and together they spread it out. He takes her hand again and helps her sit down, making sure the exquisite dress is completely on the blanket before sitting down himself and unpacking the hamper.
He’s chosen their food according to how easy it would be to eat and not ruin their clothing. Simple things like a huge variety of cheeses and crackers, green grapes, bananas, and clear, white wine that will leave no apparent stain if spilled. Once he’s filled his plate he stretches out his long legs and leans his back against a tree, watching her.
They eat in silence, Rose’s eyes constantly being drawn to the flowers in the glade, the birds chirping softly in the trees, once even a doe and two fawns at the edge of the meadow. The mother eyes them but sensing no threat takes a few steps forward, the gangly youngsters following her and beginning to graze as she keeps watch.
The sounds of the party draw her eyes again, but she still has no wish to go there. She’d far rather snuggle up in the Doctor’s arms and spend the afternoon talking to him about anything and everything. It’s been a while since they’ve talked. It’s like they’ve been avoiding it ever since they left the Reapers behind them. It’s hard to start a conversation, harder still when she’s looking him in the eye.
As the meal draws to a close, the Doctor puts the remnants and the linen cloths away and moves the basket out of the way. His sprawling legs open, making a place for her and he opens his arms. “Come here,” he says softly, as if he’s afraid to break the charm of the quiet that has fallen between them.
Rose gathers her skirts and eases across the blanket to him, settling with her back firmly against his chest. The ruffles tickle a bit at the exposed part of her shoulder blades. His arms come around her and she leans her head into the hollow of his shoulder. Her hands rest atop his and she strokes lightly against the back of one hand with a forefinger.
“Talk to me,” he says and it’s as if he’s drawn the cork from a bottle as everything she’s been thinking about rushes out of her like bubbling champagne. All of her worries, her fears about losing him like she almost did when they visited her parents in the past, and her doubts about whether he still wants her travelling with him, flood out.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t still want you travelling with me?”
“That argument we had, back in my dad’s flat…we both said a lot of things,” she says.
“Things we didn’t mean. At least…I didn’t mean them,” he tells her. His arms tighten around her.
“So you don’t think…you don’t think I’m stupid?” she queries, her body tensing as she asks it.
“Stupid? What would make you think I thought you were…?” He trails off remembering their argument. “No. I don’t think you’re stupid, nor an ape, Rose. I think you were right. I didn’t like not being the most important man in your life.”
“But you are,” she interrupts. “I didn’t realize, not until you died and I thought I’d lost you forever. You are the most important man in my life and I…I’m having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that I’m just…I’m just Rose Tyler. You’re this amazing, marvelous man and I’m just a girl.”
“Not just a girl,” he says. “You think I take just anyone with me, Rose? ‘Cause I don’t. I don’t tolerate fools and I don’t carry people who can’t pull their own weight in a crisis. You do more than that. You’ve saved me half a dozen times. There’s no one I trust more with my life than you. You hold my life in these fragile little hands.” He takes her hands then, holds them out in front of them. “Sometimes you hold my hearts there, too.” The last he says on a rush of air as if making a confession he’d never intended to.
Rose pulls away from his body and turns to look at him. He looks nervous, almost scared. Him, scared, her big, bold Time Lord. He can stand up to a Dalek or a Slitheen, but in matters of the hearts, he seems as young as she is. Those feelings that have been so new and so strong this last week come rushing to the surface and she bites her lip, as nervous as he. His eyes fall to her lip and he unconsciously licks his own. That decides her.
With a fluttering, racing heart she leans towards him. She presses her lips against his. He returns the pressure softly. It’s over almost as quickly as it begins as she backs away and looks into his eyes. The emotion in them scares her. His hand settles on her waist, tugging her back towards him and this time when their lips meet her mouth opens to him and he takes her unspoken invitation, entering with slow, hesitant strokes of his tongue against hers.
Her hand rises to the back of his neck, holding him firmly in place as he continues his exploration. His hand moves from her waist to her back, bringing her closer still until her side is pushed up against his torso. It’s a kiss filled with longing and with promise and she nearly lets out a little sob when it finally ends, so bereft does she feel without it.
His arms close around her again and she lies against him, listening to the thudding beat of his hearts, wildly at odds with each other’s rhythm. They stay that way for a long time, and the rest, the renewal that Rose needed desperately settles upon her. There is peace and she builds it up within her, a bolster against the future craziness she knows is coming the next day or the next. She stores strength, strength from the beauty of this place, and strength from him.
Twilight begins to fall and with a sigh of reluctance the Doctor speaks. “Time to head back to the ship, I suppose,” he says.
Rose nods her head. They separate and the Doctor scrambles to his feet, reaches for her hands and helps her to stand. She straightens out the dress and then helps him fold up the blanket. When he’s ready he reaches for her hand and slowly they walk back to the TARDIS.
Once in the console room he sends them into the vortex. “Doctor?” she asks.
“Yes, Rose?”
“Thank you. I needed this day. I love the running, I love the adventure, but I think sometimes I just…I need a day away from it all. Away from all of it but you,” she tells him.
He smiles. “I think I can arrange that.”
She walks to the door and stops, turning to look back at him. “What…what does this mean?” she asks. “We kissed.”
“Yes, we did.”
“Well, what…what happens now?” she wants to know. He strides to her side and kisses her again, this time leaving her breathless.
“Now the real adventure begins,” he says. Rose smiles. She finds that for now, it’s answer enough.
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I absolutely LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it! ♥ ♥ ♥
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:-)
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*girly moment*
I want that dress.
I have no reason to wear it but I want to own it.
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Okay, I'm ready for my picnic with Nine, now! *holds up hand, waving frantically* ;)
Thanks so much for the dress picture as well, that's so beautiful, as is the picture prompt! :D ♥!
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Lovely.
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I had a not so great day, and this just made it better.
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The gown and necklace are simply lovely. Where do you find the pics? I can't quite make out the name at the bottom of the gown.
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Thanks.
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This was an incredibly sweet story. I love Nine and Rose so much when they're quiet like this, just enjoying each other's company.
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Sometimes I like to make it difficult for Rose with the clothes, but this day was an easy day for her all the way around, including the clothes.
Thank you. They deserved a day off.
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Yes, men on horseback in breeches and boots are just yummy.
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