Don't Blink - 21/?
Title: Don't Blink - 21/?
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~ Seven~ Eight~ Nine~ Ten
~ Eleven~ Twelve~ Thirteen~ Fourteen~ Fifteen~ Sixteen~
Seventeen~ Eighteen~ Nineteen~ Twenty
A huge, intense rush of air. Burning in his lungs. The feeling that all the muscles in his body were squeezing tight. He fell back against a wall, hitting it hard and then sliding to the ground.
“Welcome!” a man’s voice said.
Billy looked up, trying to clear his vision. It was dark, and he was quite clearly no longer in the police garage. Walking towards him was a tall skinny man with brown hair, wearing a suit and a long brown coat. He carried a red object in his hand, and it was pointed at Billy. The object had a small wheel that was turning rapidly, and it was making an odd beeping noise. Beside him walked a pretty blonde girl. Billy noted all of this automatically, the way he noted all details. It was how his cop’s mind worked, even in the midst of an emergency.
And this definitely seemed like an emergency.
He fought to make his mouth work. “Where am I?”
He couldn’t keep his eyes open, but it was the male’s voice that answered him. “1969. Not bad as it goes. You’ve got the moon landing to look forward to.”
“Oh, the moon landing’s brilliant!” the blonde girl said cheerfully. “We went four times. You’ll love it!” She knelt down beside Billy. “I mean, it was ages ago, but it never changes, does it?”
Billy managed to get his eyes open and keep them open. Despite himself, he asked, “Why would it change?”
“It shouldn’t,” the girl admitted. “That’s what’s fun about it.”
Billy dismissed the nonsensical conversation in favor of more important business. “How did I get here?”
The man switched off the little machine in his hand. The wheel slowly stopped turning. “The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you ended up in the same year.” He slid down the wall to sit beside Billy. “No, no, no, no, no, don’t get up. Time travel without a capsule, nasty.” The blonde girl nodded in sympathetic agreement. “Catch your breath, don’t go swimming for half an hour.”
“I don’t. I can’t.” Billy struggled to process what was happening. He didn’t know what angels this man was talking about, even though he had the oddest feeling that he should.
“Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels,” the man said conversationally. “The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They’re creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy.”
Billy stared at him. Not only was this man making no sense, but he appeared to be enjoying himself. He had pale skin and smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but the youthfulness of his face didn’t match the expression in his eyes. Another inexplicable thing. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Just nod when he stops for breath,” the blonde girl advised. “It’s easier that way.” Billy stared at her incredulously. Was she serious?
“Tracked you down with this,” the man continued. “This is my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there’s stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at 30 paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I’ve learned to stay away from hens. It’s not pretty when they blow.”
The girl shook her head. “Trust him on that one.”
“I don’t understand,” Billy said, trying again. “Where am I?”
“1969, like he says,” the girl replied. She smiled at Billy. “Hard to believe, but true!” Her expression was one of sympathy, and Billy felt a jolt of alarm at the look in her eyes. She was deadly serious.
The man in the brown suit also had a sympathetic look in his eye that made alarm bells go off in Billy’s head. “Normally, I’d offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow. And I’m sorry, Billy, I am very, very sorry. It’s gonna take you a while.”
“You are crazy,” Billy stated. “Just...just crazy.” He managed to pull himself up, though he teetered unsteadily for a moment. The blonde reached out a hand to help him, but he shook her off and stepped back.
“I don’t know what sort of joke you’re playing, or what drugs you’re on, but I’m a cop. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
The mad who called himself a doctor peered at him closely. “No, not yesterday,” he agreed. “Sometime around thirty years ago? Thirty years, two months, sixteen days?”
Billy glared at him and strode away. “Stay away from me.” He moved quickly, anxious to get the hell away from those two. He began to walk as fast as he could once he hit the street, but the more steps he took, the slower his steps became. He looked around, feeling an incredible sense of disorientation.
Red phone boxes on the street. Across the way was a blue police box. The people...people walked by wearing fancy dress, costumes that made no sense.
And they were all wearing them, everyone he saw, everywhere he looked. Bell-bottomed pants. Shirts with ridiculous patterns, all plaids and circles and bizarre tie-dyes. Men and women both with long hair that swept down their faces, cigarettes everywhere. Like they could have come from 1969. Billy shied away from the thought. He caught sight of a newsstand, and he snatched up a paper. He scanned for the date and swore.
“You gonna buy that, mate?” the newsman asked.
“No. No.” Billy let the paper drop. He turned around, trying to ignore the featured story about the upcoming moon landing. He knew where he was, he’d been on this street before. But the shops lining the street were not familiar ones. Old adverts for Coca-Cola, brands of candy that he’d never seen before, out-of-date magazines on the newsstand...
“Here we go!” The Doctor swooped in and grabbed his arm just as Billy began to feel unsteady on his feet. “Come on, Billy. We have a lot of talking to do.”
They brought Billy back to the flat. It was getting late out, and neither Rose nor the Doctor wanted to hang around on the street while they explained what had happened.
“Have a seat.” The Doctor gestured to the sofa in the small sitting room and took the most comfortable chair himself.
Rose shot him a reproachful look and sat Billy down.
“What?” the Doctor mouthed at her.
He sat with hands in his pockets and legs spread apart. He hadn’t taken his coat off. Rose glared at him and turned to Billy.
“I’m sorry. We’re being rude,” she said pointedly, even though the Doctor didn’t thinkhe’d been rude. “Let me get you some Coke. Good for shock.”
She brought back two bottles of Coca-Cola. The Doctor smiled and reached for one of them, but Rose deftly swung it out of his reach, handing one to Billy and then defiantly taking a long swig from the other bottle before pointedly setting it down out of the Doctor’s reach.
“What?” the Doctor mouthed again.
“You’re being rude,” she mouthed back, and he stared at her in outrage.
“How?” he demanded.
Billy had recovered himself. The cold, sweet drink had helped, and he decided to ignore for now the fact that the bottle was made of glass and looked nothing like the bottles of Coke he was accustomed to drinking.
He was able to take in quick details of the flat - small but tidy, except for that table in the corner covered in papers. The furnishings looked like something out of his granny’s formal sitting room. Bought decades before and never replaced, preserved for as long as he could remember under plastic to keep it new.
He turned his attention back to people he was with. They were conducting some sort of conversation without making any noise. Gestures were accompanied by exaggerated facial expressions, and he wondered briefly what lunatic asylum they’d come from. Or perhaps it was an acting class.
They seemed to know him. The man was taking off his long coat and loosening his tie. The girl, who Billy hadn’t noticed much before, was young and blonde. She wore a close-fitting white blouse and a dark blue skirt that ended just above her knees. It was not an extraordinary outfit, but it looked slightly out of place to him. he had gone out with enough beautiful and fashionable women to recognize that the collar and the buttons on her shirt were dated and just not right somehow. His mind shied away from the thought that this really was 1969.
The girl smiled at him. There was a fresh, flowery scent coming from her, and Billy found himself smiling back almost automatically.
“You’re probably having a hard time remembering what we’ve said. Happens to me sometimes. I’m Rose,” she said. “That’s the Doctor.” She nodded her head to the man, who was sitting with a sulky look on his face.
“Doctor of what?” Billy asked. “You didn’t say.”
Rose snickered softly. “If I had a nickel every time someone asked that...”
“Oi!” the Doctor said, and Billy nodded in understanding.
“You’re not really a doctor. You just call yourself one? Or are you one of those academic types?”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor said firmly. “That’s my name.”
“No one’s called ‘Doctor’,” Billy protested.
“I am.”
“He is.”
Billy have up. Lunatic asylum for sure. Although it would be a shame if this pretty girl - Rose - really was off her rocker. She was really very attractive. In either case, clearly the shock was wearing off. He was feeling more and more like himself. He set his glass bottle of Coke down and moved closer on the sofa to Rose.
“Rose, you said? That’s a lovely name.”
“Thanks.” Rose watched, partly in amusement, partly in alarm, as Billy reached for her hand.
“Right!” The Doctor stood hurriedly and sat down between Rose and Billy. “Let’s face facts, DI Shipton.” He deftly took Rose’s hand from Billy and held on to it himself, resting their joined hands on his thigh. “You have just traveled back in time. An unusual occurrence, but one that you will make work for you.”
Billy was annoyed to have his flirting cut off so suddenly, but Rose didn’t seem to mind. She snuggled against the Doctor, kicking off her shoes and drawing them up under her.
Understanding came. “Oh. This is your flat?” They both nodded, and Billy shook his head. “You’re married. I should have guessed.”
Rose blushed slightly and looked, of all things, a bit guilty.
The Doctor only looked puzzled. “Why would you say that?”
“Billy’s traveled though time without a capsule,” Rose reminded him hastily. “Let him sit quietly for a bit.”
Interesting. Maybe they weren’t married after all. Married or not, though, the message was clear to Billy: she was off limits.
He set his mind back on the problem at hand. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t see how any of this is possible.”
The Doctor looked surprised. “Weren’t you listening before?”
Billy shook his head blearily. “It’s mad. It’s just madness!”
“I know it sounds mad,” the Doctor said gently, “but I promise you it’s the truth.”
Billy looked up from the note the Doctor had handed him. It was from Sally Sparrow, detailing how she had met Billy, how she had left him after seeing the blue police box, and how she had seen him just moments after that.
As he was dying.
“I know it’s not easy,” Rose began, but Billy raised a hand to cut her off. With his eyes still on the paper, he reached into his pocket and took out Sally’s phone number.
“Same handwriting,” he said, comparing the two pieces of paper.
“It is from Sally,” the Doctor said gently.
“As far as she’s concerned, we said goodbye, and then she went to meet me as I lay dying.” Billy shook his head. “Do you have anything stronger than Coke?”
It was past midnight when Rose finally put a stop to things. Billy had a quick, intelligent mind, one that the Doctor clearly admired. There was so much information to give, and so many explanations demanded, that the talking went on and on.
“Maybe we should all go to bed,” Rose said, staring hard at the Doctor. “We can talk more in the morning.”
“What? But we’re just getting started!” he protested.
“No, that’s okay.” Billy managed a smile. “It’s a late, and I’ve been through a lot, eh? Reckon a good night’s sleep will help me process things.”
The Doctor didn’t look as though he agreed, but Rose sent him off to get the extra set of sheets from the bedroom.
“I think I have an extra toothbrush here,” Rose said, turning back to their guest. She was alarmed, but not really surprised, to find him sitting with his head in his hands. “Billy?”
“I just remembered,” he mumbled through his hands. “My mum’s birthday is tomorrow. I won’t be there for it. They won’t know what’s happened to me.”
Rose sat down next to him. “I know it’s hard, but -”
He was digging through his pockets and came up with his mobile. “I’ll just call her. Make my excuses.”
“Billy,” Rose started, but he looked so determined that she just bit her lip and watched as he dialed. After a long moment he frowned and tried again.
“It’s not working.”
Rose could have cried for him. “There’s no signal. No towers. We won’t be able to use that phone for twenty years.”
“1992,” the Doctor supplied, and was honestly bewildered when Rose threw him an admonishing look and took the sheets from his hands.
Billy threw the phone onto the floor. “What is she going to do? They’ll all think I’ve disappeared. The police will pull out all the stops, looking for me. My family will worry. It’ll be in the papers and on the telly, and my little granny will probably die from worry. They’ll never see me again. But right after I left, you say that I die. How is that possible? Being in two places at once, now and in the future?”
Rose looked pleadingly at the Doctor.
“Time is complicated, Billy.” The Doctor stood with his hands folded across his chest. “Technically, a person can exist in the same moment at two separate times. You’ve gone back in time and there’s no way to get back, but you have a purpose here now. You’ll help us get messages to Sally, and you’ll have a good life here with another Sally.”
“I don’t want another Sally. I want my life back.” Billy stood up and began walking around the room, almost knocking the empty bottles of Coke off the table. The Doctor stepped forward and rescued them in one hand before they could fall to the carpet.
“I’m sorry,” The Doctor was aware that it was an empty sentiment, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“If you had your time machine, that blue box, the one I picked up at Wester Drumlins-.”
“The TARDIS. If we had that we wouldn’t need you, Billy. It would bring you back to your proper time and place, but it would disrupt our time and place. For whatever reason, we’re here and we need you to get us out of it.”
“So I’m stuck here and you two get to go back.”
“We don’t know that that will happen. I’m just trying to follow Sally’s notes so we can try.”
“All set!” Rose forced a cheery note into her voice and waved at the sofa. “You just need to rest,” she said hopefully. “It’ll seem better in the morning.”
Billy sat on his bed with the air of a man who has just been struck a fatal blow. “Better how?” he demanded. “I just got sent back thirty-eight years in the past! And he says I won’t get back.” He jerked his head in the Doctor’s direction.
“Well, no. But you’ll be able to help us get back.” Rose tried to smile and didn’t quite make it.
Billy cursed softly and lay down.
“Can I get you anything?” Rose asked hopefully.
Billy pulled the blanket over his face.
“Come on, Rose.” The Doctor touched Rose’s back and urged her down the hallway. He turned off the lights and followed Rose into the bedroom. Without saying anything, he flung himself down on the bed.
“Take off your shoes,” Rose said automatically, scooping up her pajamas and going into the bathroom.
The Doctor rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He also took off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the floor. He hadn’t used to get so comfortable - or so undressed - but things had changed slightly in the past few weeks.
He glanced around the bedroom while he waited for Rose to return. He’d been in and out of it before, of course, usually when Rose was at work. His clothes were in the wardrobe, but he preferred to shower and dress after she’d gone to work, when he was alone in the flat.
The room was small, especially by his standards. The walls were painted the same soft white as the rest of the flat. They were surprisingly clean and bright. He would have changed the color to something else, himself, but since this was a human dwelling and not a TARDIS that could change its surroundings at his whim, he simply accepted the color without noticing it much.
The wardrobe doors hung open, showing Rose’s dresses and tops and skirts. He was amused by the contrast between the demure things she wore to work and the swinging sixties style items Rose was showing a liking for. The contrast between these clothes and the clothes she used to wear was even more striking. No more jeans and hooded tops for Rose. She didn’t seem to mind, but he wondered what she would say if she was forced to remain in this time for very much longer.
Across the small bureau were scattered bits of the jewelry Rose liked to wear. All costume, of course. Even if he could have found a way to get her real gold and gemstones without breaking her rule of using properly earned money, she wouldn’t have accepted them. The small charms he had given her were the only exceptions. He hadn’t seen her take them off once.
Rose returned wearing pale green pajamas. The top had short sleeves and was edged in lace, and after a quick glance the Doctor resolutely looked away. The material was light, and her shape, backlit by the lamplight, was clearly outlined.
Rose closed the door and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re still here?”
“Where else would I go? Billy’s crashed on the sofa, and there aren’t any other rooms in the flat.” The Doctor spoke quite reasonably.
“I thought you, I dunno, went out and took in the city at night.”
He snorted. “London in the 1960’s? Not as exciting as you might think. Now, if you want to talk exciting, head over to Zebulon Five Mark Six during the twenty-seventh century revival of traditional musicals. Non-stop dancing in the streets, widespread partying all night long, long streams of comets appearing naturally in the sky at the precise moment of-”
“Shove over.” Rose snatched the blanket off the bed and climbed in. “So are you staying or going?” she demanded.
“You’d send me out into the big, bad world at this hour?” He feigned sadness and disappointment.
“You don’t need sleep,” she pointed out. “I do.”
“I sleep on occasion. Once in a while. Not as often as you humans, of course-”
“Suit yourself, but a girl’s got to have her beauty sleep.” Rose turned over and snuggled down, hiding her smile from him.
“Do I need to get the light, too?” he asked after a moment.
“Yup,” was her unequivocal answer.
He sighed, but since he used his sonic screwdriver to turn the light off without moving from the bed, she didn’t feel too bad for him.
They lay in the dark without moving for long minutes before Rose broke the silence.
“I don’t think he’s taking it too well.”
“Would you? Thrust back into time?”
“I was,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but you have something most people in that position don’t have.”
“What’s that?”
“Me.”
She rolled over to face him, even though she couldn’t see much in the dark besides a light-colored blur where his shirt was.
“You. You’re all that stands between me and Billy?”
“I’m not standing between anyone and anything,” he corrected her. “But I’m here, and with me here nothing can go wrong.”
“Oh, where have I heard that before?” Rose inquired of the ceiling.
“Billy won’t have me around for the rest of his life. He’ll have to make a go of things on his own. You’ll have me and my expertise until we can get back.”
“What if we can’t get back?” Rose asked.
“Rose Tyler, are you doubting me?” he asked indignantly.
“Not doubting you, no. But...what if this doesn’t work?”
“We have Sally Sparrow’s word that it will.”
“She tells us how it will end, so it’s bound to end well?” she countered skeptically. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me.”
“Funny how these timey-wimey things never do.” The Doctor stretched out on the bed, stacking his hands behind his head. “Still. You may have a point about Billy. I’ll just have a talk with him in the morning. Once he’s well-rested it’ll all seem more manageable.”
Rose didn’t think so - it didn’t seem that manageable to her - but she let it go.
“Doctor,” she said instead.
“Mmm?”
“I’m scared.”
He turned to her immediately, reaching a hand out in the dark to touch her arm reassuringly.
“Rose, you don’t need to be afraid. I’m here.”
His blind belief - deserved or not - that he could protect her from the evils of the world made her chuckle.
“You can’t chase the monsters away, Doctor, can you?” Her voice changed and became more serious. “I’m afraid that we’ll be trapped here.”
He couldn’t ignore the fear in her voice. “Come here.”
She scooted closer to him. The bed was so narrow it only took a few inches to reach him. Without prompting she put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the clean scent he always carried with him.
He hugged her close, smoothing her hair with his hand. “It’ll be all right,” he said in the dark.
Rose shut her eyes tightly and let him stroke her hair. The situation was so much more intimate than anything previous in their relationship. They’d always observed certain boundaries when on the TARDIS - he may have entered her bedroom but he never stayed long, and never when she was in bed. This enforced closeness was making them do things they never would have done otherwise.
Maybe that was a good thing.
Rose slowly pulled away, just enough to be able to face him.
“Doctor.”
“Rose?”
“I trust you. I know you’ll keep me safe.”
He was touched, so incredibly touched. She kept putting her life and her faith in his hands, and that never failed to amaze him.
“Thank you,” he started to say, but she cut him off when she kissed him. Just a slight touch of her lips to his, but it shut him up more effectively than any villain pointing a weapon at him could ever have hoped to do.
She had meant it to be just a simple kiss of affection, not wanting him to think that she was being pushy. He’d pulled away from her too often when things were getting too intimate between them for her to read too much into his actions or to try too hard. She’d gotten used to denying her feelings, especially after falling back in time.
The habit of waiting and waiting for him to make the first move, was too strong. Rose tried to pull away, shocked at her own actions, but he wouldn’t let her. To her amazement he drew her back to him.
The Doctor made it much more than a simple kiss. His arms tightened around her, his hand cupping the back of her head to keep it firmly in place. His mouth moved on hers and Rose let herself get carried away.
“What are you doing?” she whispered when she had to stop for breath. “You don’t do this.”
“Apparently I do.” He wasn’t breathing hard, and he was looking at her in some bemusement. “With you I apparently do.”
“I’m glad,” she told him, and kissed him again.
A pounding somewhere outside made them break apart again.
“What was that?” the Doctor asked, listening hard.
“Dunno.” Rose didn’t really care, either, but there was the pounding again, so she stayed quiet.
The pounding continued, this time accompanied by some unintelligible yells.
“I’ll better go see what it is.” The Doctor was already sliding out of bed and looking for his shoes.
“Now?” Rose protested. “It’s probably someone locked out of their flat.”
“Let me just go look,” he pleaded, buttoning his jacket up. “I’ll be right back.” He smiled at her. “Right back.”
“Then I’ll come, too,” she decided, and he shook his head.
“No time. You’re not dressed. Be right back!”
Rose fell back against her pillow as the door to the flat opened and closed. Was he really concerned about that noise, or was this just another classic Doctor way of avoiding intimacy?
Twenty-two
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~ Seven~ Eight~ Nine~ Ten
~ Eleven~ Twelve~ Thirteen~ Fourteen~ Fifteen~ Sixteen~
Seventeen~ Eighteen~ Nineteen~ Twenty
A huge, intense rush of air. Burning in his lungs. The feeling that all the muscles in his body were squeezing tight. He fell back against a wall, hitting it hard and then sliding to the ground.
“Welcome!” a man’s voice said.
Billy looked up, trying to clear his vision. It was dark, and he was quite clearly no longer in the police garage. Walking towards him was a tall skinny man with brown hair, wearing a suit and a long brown coat. He carried a red object in his hand, and it was pointed at Billy. The object had a small wheel that was turning rapidly, and it was making an odd beeping noise. Beside him walked a pretty blonde girl. Billy noted all of this automatically, the way he noted all details. It was how his cop’s mind worked, even in the midst of an emergency.
And this definitely seemed like an emergency.
He fought to make his mouth work. “Where am I?”
He couldn’t keep his eyes open, but it was the male’s voice that answered him. “1969. Not bad as it goes. You’ve got the moon landing to look forward to.”
“Oh, the moon landing’s brilliant!” the blonde girl said cheerfully. “We went four times. You’ll love it!” She knelt down beside Billy. “I mean, it was ages ago, but it never changes, does it?”
Billy managed to get his eyes open and keep them open. Despite himself, he asked, “Why would it change?”
“It shouldn’t,” the girl admitted. “That’s what’s fun about it.”
Billy dismissed the nonsensical conversation in favor of more important business. “How did I get here?”
The man switched off the little machine in his hand. The wheel slowly stopped turning. “The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you ended up in the same year.” He slid down the wall to sit beside Billy. “No, no, no, no, no, don’t get up. Time travel without a capsule, nasty.” The blonde girl nodded in sympathetic agreement. “Catch your breath, don’t go swimming for half an hour.”
“I don’t. I can’t.” Billy struggled to process what was happening. He didn’t know what angels this man was talking about, even though he had the oddest feeling that he should.
“Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels,” the man said conversationally. “The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They’re creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy.”
Billy stared at him. Not only was this man making no sense, but he appeared to be enjoying himself. He had pale skin and smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but the youthfulness of his face didn’t match the expression in his eyes. Another inexplicable thing. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Just nod when he stops for breath,” the blonde girl advised. “It’s easier that way.” Billy stared at her incredulously. Was she serious?
“Tracked you down with this,” the man continued. “This is my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there’s stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at 30 paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I’ve learned to stay away from hens. It’s not pretty when they blow.”
The girl shook her head. “Trust him on that one.”
“I don’t understand,” Billy said, trying again. “Where am I?”
“1969, like he says,” the girl replied. She smiled at Billy. “Hard to believe, but true!” Her expression was one of sympathy, and Billy felt a jolt of alarm at the look in her eyes. She was deadly serious.
The man in the brown suit also had a sympathetic look in his eye that made alarm bells go off in Billy’s head. “Normally, I’d offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow. And I’m sorry, Billy, I am very, very sorry. It’s gonna take you a while.”
“You are crazy,” Billy stated. “Just...just crazy.” He managed to pull himself up, though he teetered unsteadily for a moment. The blonde reached out a hand to help him, but he shook her off and stepped back.
“I don’t know what sort of joke you’re playing, or what drugs you’re on, but I’m a cop. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
The mad who called himself a doctor peered at him closely. “No, not yesterday,” he agreed. “Sometime around thirty years ago? Thirty years, two months, sixteen days?”
Billy glared at him and strode away. “Stay away from me.” He moved quickly, anxious to get the hell away from those two. He began to walk as fast as he could once he hit the street, but the more steps he took, the slower his steps became. He looked around, feeling an incredible sense of disorientation.
Red phone boxes on the street. Across the way was a blue police box. The people...people walked by wearing fancy dress, costumes that made no sense.
And they were all wearing them, everyone he saw, everywhere he looked. Bell-bottomed pants. Shirts with ridiculous patterns, all plaids and circles and bizarre tie-dyes. Men and women both with long hair that swept down their faces, cigarettes everywhere. Like they could have come from 1969. Billy shied away from the thought. He caught sight of a newsstand, and he snatched up a paper. He scanned for the date and swore.
“You gonna buy that, mate?” the newsman asked.
“No. No.” Billy let the paper drop. He turned around, trying to ignore the featured story about the upcoming moon landing. He knew where he was, he’d been on this street before. But the shops lining the street were not familiar ones. Old adverts for Coca-Cola, brands of candy that he’d never seen before, out-of-date magazines on the newsstand...
“Here we go!” The Doctor swooped in and grabbed his arm just as Billy began to feel unsteady on his feet. “Come on, Billy. We have a lot of talking to do.”
They brought Billy back to the flat. It was getting late out, and neither Rose nor the Doctor wanted to hang around on the street while they explained what had happened.
“Have a seat.” The Doctor gestured to the sofa in the small sitting room and took the most comfortable chair himself.
Rose shot him a reproachful look and sat Billy down.
“What?” the Doctor mouthed at her.
He sat with hands in his pockets and legs spread apart. He hadn’t taken his coat off. Rose glared at him and turned to Billy.
“I’m sorry. We’re being rude,” she said pointedly, even though the Doctor didn’t thinkhe’d been rude. “Let me get you some Coke. Good for shock.”
She brought back two bottles of Coca-Cola. The Doctor smiled and reached for one of them, but Rose deftly swung it out of his reach, handing one to Billy and then defiantly taking a long swig from the other bottle before pointedly setting it down out of the Doctor’s reach.
“What?” the Doctor mouthed again.
“You’re being rude,” she mouthed back, and he stared at her in outrage.
“How?” he demanded.
Billy had recovered himself. The cold, sweet drink had helped, and he decided to ignore for now the fact that the bottle was made of glass and looked nothing like the bottles of Coke he was accustomed to drinking.
He was able to take in quick details of the flat - small but tidy, except for that table in the corner covered in papers. The furnishings looked like something out of his granny’s formal sitting room. Bought decades before and never replaced, preserved for as long as he could remember under plastic to keep it new.
He turned his attention back to people he was with. They were conducting some sort of conversation without making any noise. Gestures were accompanied by exaggerated facial expressions, and he wondered briefly what lunatic asylum they’d come from. Or perhaps it was an acting class.
They seemed to know him. The man was taking off his long coat and loosening his tie. The girl, who Billy hadn’t noticed much before, was young and blonde. She wore a close-fitting white blouse and a dark blue skirt that ended just above her knees. It was not an extraordinary outfit, but it looked slightly out of place to him. he had gone out with enough beautiful and fashionable women to recognize that the collar and the buttons on her shirt were dated and just not right somehow. His mind shied away from the thought that this really was 1969.
The girl smiled at him. There was a fresh, flowery scent coming from her, and Billy found himself smiling back almost automatically.
“You’re probably having a hard time remembering what we’ve said. Happens to me sometimes. I’m Rose,” she said. “That’s the Doctor.” She nodded her head to the man, who was sitting with a sulky look on his face.
“Doctor of what?” Billy asked. “You didn’t say.”
Rose snickered softly. “If I had a nickel every time someone asked that...”
“Oi!” the Doctor said, and Billy nodded in understanding.
“You’re not really a doctor. You just call yourself one? Or are you one of those academic types?”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor said firmly. “That’s my name.”
“No one’s called ‘Doctor’,” Billy protested.
“I am.”
“He is.”
Billy have up. Lunatic asylum for sure. Although it would be a shame if this pretty girl - Rose - really was off her rocker. She was really very attractive. In either case, clearly the shock was wearing off. He was feeling more and more like himself. He set his glass bottle of Coke down and moved closer on the sofa to Rose.
“Rose, you said? That’s a lovely name.”
“Thanks.” Rose watched, partly in amusement, partly in alarm, as Billy reached for her hand.
“Right!” The Doctor stood hurriedly and sat down between Rose and Billy. “Let’s face facts, DI Shipton.” He deftly took Rose’s hand from Billy and held on to it himself, resting their joined hands on his thigh. “You have just traveled back in time. An unusual occurrence, but one that you will make work for you.”
Billy was annoyed to have his flirting cut off so suddenly, but Rose didn’t seem to mind. She snuggled against the Doctor, kicking off her shoes and drawing them up under her.
Understanding came. “Oh. This is your flat?” They both nodded, and Billy shook his head. “You’re married. I should have guessed.”
Rose blushed slightly and looked, of all things, a bit guilty.
The Doctor only looked puzzled. “Why would you say that?”
“Billy’s traveled though time without a capsule,” Rose reminded him hastily. “Let him sit quietly for a bit.”
Interesting. Maybe they weren’t married after all. Married or not, though, the message was clear to Billy: she was off limits.
He set his mind back on the problem at hand. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t see how any of this is possible.”
The Doctor looked surprised. “Weren’t you listening before?”
Billy shook his head blearily. “It’s mad. It’s just madness!”
“I know it sounds mad,” the Doctor said gently, “but I promise you it’s the truth.”
Billy looked up from the note the Doctor had handed him. It was from Sally Sparrow, detailing how she had met Billy, how she had left him after seeing the blue police box, and how she had seen him just moments after that.
As he was dying.
“I know it’s not easy,” Rose began, but Billy raised a hand to cut her off. With his eyes still on the paper, he reached into his pocket and took out Sally’s phone number.
“Same handwriting,” he said, comparing the two pieces of paper.
“It is from Sally,” the Doctor said gently.
“As far as she’s concerned, we said goodbye, and then she went to meet me as I lay dying.” Billy shook his head. “Do you have anything stronger than Coke?”
It was past midnight when Rose finally put a stop to things. Billy had a quick, intelligent mind, one that the Doctor clearly admired. There was so much information to give, and so many explanations demanded, that the talking went on and on.
“Maybe we should all go to bed,” Rose said, staring hard at the Doctor. “We can talk more in the morning.”
“What? But we’re just getting started!” he protested.
“No, that’s okay.” Billy managed a smile. “It’s a late, and I’ve been through a lot, eh? Reckon a good night’s sleep will help me process things.”
The Doctor didn’t look as though he agreed, but Rose sent him off to get the extra set of sheets from the bedroom.
“I think I have an extra toothbrush here,” Rose said, turning back to their guest. She was alarmed, but not really surprised, to find him sitting with his head in his hands. “Billy?”
“I just remembered,” he mumbled through his hands. “My mum’s birthday is tomorrow. I won’t be there for it. They won’t know what’s happened to me.”
Rose sat down next to him. “I know it’s hard, but -”
He was digging through his pockets and came up with his mobile. “I’ll just call her. Make my excuses.”
“Billy,” Rose started, but he looked so determined that she just bit her lip and watched as he dialed. After a long moment he frowned and tried again.
“It’s not working.”
Rose could have cried for him. “There’s no signal. No towers. We won’t be able to use that phone for twenty years.”
“1992,” the Doctor supplied, and was honestly bewildered when Rose threw him an admonishing look and took the sheets from his hands.
Billy threw the phone onto the floor. “What is she going to do? They’ll all think I’ve disappeared. The police will pull out all the stops, looking for me. My family will worry. It’ll be in the papers and on the telly, and my little granny will probably die from worry. They’ll never see me again. But right after I left, you say that I die. How is that possible? Being in two places at once, now and in the future?”
Rose looked pleadingly at the Doctor.
“Time is complicated, Billy.” The Doctor stood with his hands folded across his chest. “Technically, a person can exist in the same moment at two separate times. You’ve gone back in time and there’s no way to get back, but you have a purpose here now. You’ll help us get messages to Sally, and you’ll have a good life here with another Sally.”
“I don’t want another Sally. I want my life back.” Billy stood up and began walking around the room, almost knocking the empty bottles of Coke off the table. The Doctor stepped forward and rescued them in one hand before they could fall to the carpet.
“I’m sorry,” The Doctor was aware that it was an empty sentiment, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“If you had your time machine, that blue box, the one I picked up at Wester Drumlins-.”
“The TARDIS. If we had that we wouldn’t need you, Billy. It would bring you back to your proper time and place, but it would disrupt our time and place. For whatever reason, we’re here and we need you to get us out of it.”
“So I’m stuck here and you two get to go back.”
“We don’t know that that will happen. I’m just trying to follow Sally’s notes so we can try.”
“All set!” Rose forced a cheery note into her voice and waved at the sofa. “You just need to rest,” she said hopefully. “It’ll seem better in the morning.”
Billy sat on his bed with the air of a man who has just been struck a fatal blow. “Better how?” he demanded. “I just got sent back thirty-eight years in the past! And he says I won’t get back.” He jerked his head in the Doctor’s direction.
“Well, no. But you’ll be able to help us get back.” Rose tried to smile and didn’t quite make it.
Billy cursed softly and lay down.
“Can I get you anything?” Rose asked hopefully.
Billy pulled the blanket over his face.
“Come on, Rose.” The Doctor touched Rose’s back and urged her down the hallway. He turned off the lights and followed Rose into the bedroom. Without saying anything, he flung himself down on the bed.
“Take off your shoes,” Rose said automatically, scooping up her pajamas and going into the bathroom.
The Doctor rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He also took off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the floor. He hadn’t used to get so comfortable - or so undressed - but things had changed slightly in the past few weeks.
He glanced around the bedroom while he waited for Rose to return. He’d been in and out of it before, of course, usually when Rose was at work. His clothes were in the wardrobe, but he preferred to shower and dress after she’d gone to work, when he was alone in the flat.
The room was small, especially by his standards. The walls were painted the same soft white as the rest of the flat. They were surprisingly clean and bright. He would have changed the color to something else, himself, but since this was a human dwelling and not a TARDIS that could change its surroundings at his whim, he simply accepted the color without noticing it much.
The wardrobe doors hung open, showing Rose’s dresses and tops and skirts. He was amused by the contrast between the demure things she wore to work and the swinging sixties style items Rose was showing a liking for. The contrast between these clothes and the clothes she used to wear was even more striking. No more jeans and hooded tops for Rose. She didn’t seem to mind, but he wondered what she would say if she was forced to remain in this time for very much longer.
Across the small bureau were scattered bits of the jewelry Rose liked to wear. All costume, of course. Even if he could have found a way to get her real gold and gemstones without breaking her rule of using properly earned money, she wouldn’t have accepted them. The small charms he had given her were the only exceptions. He hadn’t seen her take them off once.
Rose returned wearing pale green pajamas. The top had short sleeves and was edged in lace, and after a quick glance the Doctor resolutely looked away. The material was light, and her shape, backlit by the lamplight, was clearly outlined.
Rose closed the door and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re still here?”
“Where else would I go? Billy’s crashed on the sofa, and there aren’t any other rooms in the flat.” The Doctor spoke quite reasonably.
“I thought you, I dunno, went out and took in the city at night.”
He snorted. “London in the 1960’s? Not as exciting as you might think. Now, if you want to talk exciting, head over to Zebulon Five Mark Six during the twenty-seventh century revival of traditional musicals. Non-stop dancing in the streets, widespread partying all night long, long streams of comets appearing naturally in the sky at the precise moment of-”
“Shove over.” Rose snatched the blanket off the bed and climbed in. “So are you staying or going?” she demanded.
“You’d send me out into the big, bad world at this hour?” He feigned sadness and disappointment.
“You don’t need sleep,” she pointed out. “I do.”
“I sleep on occasion. Once in a while. Not as often as you humans, of course-”
“Suit yourself, but a girl’s got to have her beauty sleep.” Rose turned over and snuggled down, hiding her smile from him.
“Do I need to get the light, too?” he asked after a moment.
“Yup,” was her unequivocal answer.
He sighed, but since he used his sonic screwdriver to turn the light off without moving from the bed, she didn’t feel too bad for him.
They lay in the dark without moving for long minutes before Rose broke the silence.
“I don’t think he’s taking it too well.”
“Would you? Thrust back into time?”
“I was,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but you have something most people in that position don’t have.”
“What’s that?”
“Me.”
She rolled over to face him, even though she couldn’t see much in the dark besides a light-colored blur where his shirt was.
“You. You’re all that stands between me and Billy?”
“I’m not standing between anyone and anything,” he corrected her. “But I’m here, and with me here nothing can go wrong.”
“Oh, where have I heard that before?” Rose inquired of the ceiling.
“Billy won’t have me around for the rest of his life. He’ll have to make a go of things on his own. You’ll have me and my expertise until we can get back.”
“What if we can’t get back?” Rose asked.
“Rose Tyler, are you doubting me?” he asked indignantly.
“Not doubting you, no. But...what if this doesn’t work?”
“We have Sally Sparrow’s word that it will.”
“She tells us how it will end, so it’s bound to end well?” she countered skeptically. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me.”
“Funny how these timey-wimey things never do.” The Doctor stretched out on the bed, stacking his hands behind his head. “Still. You may have a point about Billy. I’ll just have a talk with him in the morning. Once he’s well-rested it’ll all seem more manageable.”
Rose didn’t think so - it didn’t seem that manageable to her - but she let it go.
“Doctor,” she said instead.
“Mmm?”
“I’m scared.”
He turned to her immediately, reaching a hand out in the dark to touch her arm reassuringly.
“Rose, you don’t need to be afraid. I’m here.”
His blind belief - deserved or not - that he could protect her from the evils of the world made her chuckle.
“You can’t chase the monsters away, Doctor, can you?” Her voice changed and became more serious. “I’m afraid that we’ll be trapped here.”
He couldn’t ignore the fear in her voice. “Come here.”
She scooted closer to him. The bed was so narrow it only took a few inches to reach him. Without prompting she put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the clean scent he always carried with him.
He hugged her close, smoothing her hair with his hand. “It’ll be all right,” he said in the dark.
Rose shut her eyes tightly and let him stroke her hair. The situation was so much more intimate than anything previous in their relationship. They’d always observed certain boundaries when on the TARDIS - he may have entered her bedroom but he never stayed long, and never when she was in bed. This enforced closeness was making them do things they never would have done otherwise.
Maybe that was a good thing.
Rose slowly pulled away, just enough to be able to face him.
“Doctor.”
“Rose?”
“I trust you. I know you’ll keep me safe.”
He was touched, so incredibly touched. She kept putting her life and her faith in his hands, and that never failed to amaze him.
“Thank you,” he started to say, but she cut him off when she kissed him. Just a slight touch of her lips to his, but it shut him up more effectively than any villain pointing a weapon at him could ever have hoped to do.
She had meant it to be just a simple kiss of affection, not wanting him to think that she was being pushy. He’d pulled away from her too often when things were getting too intimate between them for her to read too much into his actions or to try too hard. She’d gotten used to denying her feelings, especially after falling back in time.
The habit of waiting and waiting for him to make the first move, was too strong. Rose tried to pull away, shocked at her own actions, but he wouldn’t let her. To her amazement he drew her back to him.
The Doctor made it much more than a simple kiss. His arms tightened around her, his hand cupping the back of her head to keep it firmly in place. His mouth moved on hers and Rose let herself get carried away.
“What are you doing?” she whispered when she had to stop for breath. “You don’t do this.”
“Apparently I do.” He wasn’t breathing hard, and he was looking at her in some bemusement. “With you I apparently do.”
“I’m glad,” she told him, and kissed him again.
A pounding somewhere outside made them break apart again.
“What was that?” the Doctor asked, listening hard.
“Dunno.” Rose didn’t really care, either, but there was the pounding again, so she stayed quiet.
The pounding continued, this time accompanied by some unintelligible yells.
“I’ll better go see what it is.” The Doctor was already sliding out of bed and looking for his shoes.
“Now?” Rose protested. “It’s probably someone locked out of their flat.”
“Let me just go look,” he pleaded, buttoning his jacket up. “I’ll be right back.” He smiled at her. “Right back.”
“Then I’ll come, too,” she decided, and he shook his head.
“No time. You’re not dressed. Be right back!”
Rose fell back against her pillow as the door to the flat opened and closed. Was he really concerned about that noise, or was this just another classic Doctor way of avoiding intimacy?
Twenty-two