Don't Blink - 30/?
Title: Don't Blink - 30/?
Characters: Ten, Rose
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
I'm taking another break from lj and this fic after this week - Real Life requires it. Hopefully you can all hang in there until I can get back to writing. I swear, this fic is all written out and finished in my head. And you will LOVE IT.
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(ch 19) (ch 20) (ch 21) (ch 22) (ch 23) (ch 24) (ch 25) (ch 26) (ch 27) (ch 28) (ch 29)
The Doctor arrived at Cambridge Monday morning with a renewed sense of purpose. Watching the moon landing as a passive observer had reminded him that he had a TARDIS to rescue. The thought of those Weeping Angels clustered around it, trying to get inside, made him determined to thwart their efforts. He had a sound plan and knew just what to do to set things up in order for Sally Sparrow to help them.
But in the meantime, he had a department meeting to attend. Normally he adored any sort of meeting or get-together. You never knew when an alien in hiding might reveal itself, or some other catastrophe come up that needed averting. Those kinds of things were very entertaining.
Faculty meetings - they were the exact opposite of entertaining. Was there anything worse than a room full of academics gathered to discuss their own brilliant work? The Doctor didn’t think so. Individually these people were perfectly acceptable, but place them around one table and he was forcibly reminded why he’d run away from Gallifrey in the first place. Stuffy, uptight, self-righteous people were no fun to be around, and it didn’t matter what species they were.
Meetings at UNIT used to be like this, too, come to think if it.
He took a seat at the conference table and helped himself to a pastry sitting in the middle of the table. The pastries were the only thing that made these meetings worth attending. As each faculty member came in, the Doctor amused himself by wondering which one was a potential Slitheen. Perhaps they weren’t heavy enough to be a Slitheen in hiding, but one never knew.
When everyone had finally drifted in, the Doctor settled down and allowed his thoughts to drift to Rose.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch while watching the rest of the moon landing coverage. Some guests had fallen asleep as well. Others had left to go home. Billy had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. At last the Doctor had decided to leave him there and had ushered Rose, in a half-awake, half-asleep mode, back to the flat and into her bed. She’d made no protest and slept until Sunday afternoon.
They’d acted like everything was normal that Sunday, and it had been a relief, in a way, to have Billy around to act as a buffer. This morning he’d left before dawn while she was still asleep. He would never admit to being a coward, but even though he had kissed her - and she had kissed him back! - he wasn’t ready for what could or would happen next.
He wondered if she knew what he’d been about to tell her when she’d kissed him.
He wondered if she could ever believe him.
“Everyone here?” Roger, the head of the department, looked around the table as his assistant shut the door. “Who are we missing?”
No one admitted to being missing, so he cleared his throat and consulted a piece of paper.
“Very well. Happy Monday to all of you.” He nodded impartially to the men seated around the table, and they all nodded back. “Just a few brief bits of business...”
The Doctor tuned him out and looked around the table. Ian Chesterton sat across from him, and he had to visibly force himself not to stare too long. Beside Ian was someone that the Doctor didn’t know, and he was just wondering who it was when Roger addressed that same question.
“Smith, you arrived right after Frost here left on holiday. Frost teaches biology. Frost, our newest hire.”
Frost, a man in his fifties with thinning white hair smiled and stood to extend his hand. “I’m Peter Frost.”
The Doctor stood as well and shook his hand. “Hello! I’m the Doctor.” He caught his mistake the moment he said it, and saw Ian looking at him curiously. “The doctoral candidate,” he corrected hastily. “One of the, er, doctoral candidates.” He heard himself stumbling over his words and sighed. “Nice to meet you.” He sat down, cursing himself as the meeting continued. He pretended to look at his copy of the agenda and take notes, but his mind was not on whatever issue needed to be discussed.
He glanced at Ian out of the corner of his eye, but Ian appeared focused on the conversation. If he’d thought anything was odd about the Doctor’s name, he didn’t look it. And why would he think to make the connection between his Doctor and this man who worked with him? His Doctor had been old, and Ian had never been told about the Time Lord habit of regeneration.
The chemistry chair was speaking now, and his words caught the Doctor’s attention. It was just a brief comment about extended travel, but it was clearly directed at Ian. Ian’s lips tightened momentarily, but that was the only indication that he’d heard. Someone else took up the discussion, and the talk was diverted back to the agenda.
He’d never wondered what happened to his companions after they’d left him. Liar, a small voice said inside his head. You tried not to think about Susan, but you did. You did, too often. Until you killed them all and it didn’t matter anymore.
Shut up, the Doctor told the small voice firmly, and it did.
Until he’d seen Sarah Jane again, he’d thought of her fondly, as someone from the past, but never had he imagined what her life was like after he’d dropped her off in Croyden.
Aberdeen, the voice corrected him.
Why had he never thought to find anyone after they’d gone? To make sure they were all right? He’d always continued on his way, picking up new companions and forgetting the old ones. What was it like for Ian and Barbara to return several years after disappearing? How had they coped?
Until he’d brought Rose back home twelve months late, he’d never thought about the consequences. Since he’d met Rose, he was doing all kinds of things he’d never done before. If Rose left him, would he go on to the next adventure and forget her? Could he be content to leave her to live her life without him?
The very thought made a chill run down his spine. Everything was different after Rose.
The meeting broke up in time to hold the first classes of the morning. The Doctor stood up, slowly folding his typed agenda up and sticking it in his pocket.
“You know, I used to have a friend who called himself the Doctor,” Ian said with a smile from across the table. He shook his head. “Well, maybe it was me who gave him that name, but it fit him.”
The Doctor swallowed. “Really?”
“Haven’t seen him in a while - he liked to travel. But I think of him often. He was...” Ian paused. “Nothing like you. He was quite older than you, and a bit cranky. He was a good friend.” He smiled. “See you later, Smith.”
“Have a good day,” the Doctor responded mechanically. Sooner or later, he would say something he shouldn’t. It was time to leave Cambridge.
In between his last class of the morning and lunch, he went to his desk and took out a thick sheaf of handwritten papers. He’d written his dissertation one night after Rose and Billy had gone to bed, sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea and some delicious chocolate biscuits. He’d hoped to give the impression of an average student, needing some time to formulate a thesis and write up a dissertation. The hardest part was not expanding human knowledge too far beyond what was currently known. No sense in pretending any longer. Better that he get away from Ian.
He brushed a few crumbs off the folder and went to the department secretary’s office. She was a woman in her late sixties, rumored to have been there longer than any other Cambridge official. Her grey hair was piled in highest beehive the Doctor had ever seen, and she peered at him over the tops of her glasses.
“Yes?” Even though she was, nominally, the secretary and worked for them all, the Doctor was far from the only one who was intimidated enough by her to rarely ask her to actually perform her expected duties of typing and filing and letter writing. She worked in the office surrounded by three other, junior secretaries who lived in terror of her displeasure. The Doctor felt rather bad for them.
He smiled his most charming smile. It had no effect at all. “Hello, Mrs. Loudon. I have a brief dissertation here that needs typing up.”
“And you expect me to do it, do you?”
“Well, I thought -”
“Give it to me,” she snapped, and held out her hand. “I’ll have one of the undersecretaries take care of it. Come back next Monday.”
“Thanks.” The Doctor backed away while he still could. Before he could turn around, he saw Mrs. Loudon bark a name and hold his folder out to one of the other secretaries. The younger woman looked at the Doctor as she accepted the papers. For a brief second it looked like a light was suddenly shining from her. The Doctor blinked hard. The light was gone and she was walking away.
He sighed. Time for lunch.
Rose woke up in a happy daze. Watching the moon landing on tv had been amazing. Watching the Doctor relax and laugh had been even more amazing. Someone had referred to him as Rose’s husband while speaking to Rose during the night, and secretly she glowed with pleasure at the thought. Having to get up and go in to work was a bit of a letdown after all that. She’d much rather stay in bed and think over their kisses and what he had said to her. Rose pulled the covers up and decided to do just that for a little bit.
Her happy reverie was broken by the sounds of Billy in the kitchen. She groaned. Billy was a fantastic cook, but he was so loud and messy in the kitchen. She’d finally trained him to clean up his messes, but nothing she said or did could convince him to not yell at the tv or talk loudly to himself as he made breakfast.
Rose got up and showered and dressed and did her hair and makeup. Same routine for weeks and weeks now. It was losing its appeal and she really, really wanted to get the TARDIS back and return to their normal travels. She felt guilty for that, knowing they’d be leaving Billy behind, but she couldn’t change that.
Billy was piling fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate as she came in. He whistled when he saw her.
“Look at you, girl! Work that mini.”
Rose blushed and slid into a chair, effectively hiding her miniskirt.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Billy grinned. “You are totally rocking the hip disco fashions.”
She laughed. “It’s not quite disco yet.” She accepted a plate of eggs and toast. “Thanks! Anyway, you’re not much better,” she continued, waving her fork at him.
He glanced down at his powder blue shirt. “What, this old thing?”
“It’s new, isn’t it?”
“I need to fit in,” he explained, starting to eat his own eggs. “I’m looking for a job today.”
“Are you? Where?”
“Anywhere they’ll have me, to start.” He shrugged. “Race relations aren’t what they could be this year.”
“Well, it gets better,” she said encouragingly.
“Eventually. Doesn’t mean I want to live through it.”
“It’s hard, being thrown back in time.” Rose got up to get a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. “Once we went back to 1879 and met Queen Victoria.”
Billy watched as she poured two glasses of juice. “Yeah? Was she as uptight as they say?”
“Maybe a bit more.” Rose grinned as she sat back down and handed him a glass. “She didn’t like me too much - thought I wasn’t dressed enough.”
“If she saw you now, she’d think the same thing,” Billy pointed out with a smirk.
They parted ways after breakfast, Rose for the shop and Billy to do the washing up before his job search. As Rose headed down the stairs, she caught a glimpse of an open door on the ground floor.
“Hi, Mrs. MacMurray!”
“Good morning, dear!” Her landlady smiled at her. “I just got back from the most marvelous walk. Such a beautiful morning. Shame you have to work and miss it all.”
“Oh, I won’t miss anything,” Rose assured her. “I have a walk of my own coming up.”
“Still, a young woman shouldn’t have to work outside the home if her husband can support her.” The older woman shook her head, the image of disapproval in a light pink polyester pantsuit. “In my day, it wasn’t done.”
Rose smiled uncomfortably. “Well, I like to work. Have a good day!”
The door to the flat closed, and the smile slide from her face. So much for women’s lib. She might not exactly enjoy working in a shop every day, and the Doctor’s current salary certainly meant that she didn’t have to, but what would she do instead? This way she stayed busy and contributed to their income, and - Rose cut off her thoughts. There was no need to justify her actions to anyone.
She met the postman on the way out and had to look again, since it was someone new.
“Good morning!” she said, waving to catch his attention. “Where’s Joe today?”
The postman glanced up at her from the stack of envelopes in his hand. “Went on holiday. I’m his replacement.”
“Holiday? But he just got back from holiday!”
“I wouldn’t know.” He entered the building and let the door swing shut behind him.
Rose frowned. She would have gone after him to ask more questions, but a peek at her watch reminded her that she’d be late if she didn’t hurry up.
The postman was forgotten as she made her daily walk to work. Familiar sights and sounds greeted her as she entered the neighborhood. Children walking to school, women doing early morning shopping, men in smart suits heading to the office. Mr. Patel from the grocery across the street waved to her as he swept the sidewalk clean.
“Morning, Rose!” he called. “Come by at lunchtime. I’ll have fresh chips just for you!”
“I’ll be there!” she promised. “Sounds delicious!”
Iris kept promising her a key to the shop’s back door, but so far she hadn’t been able to get hold of Mr. Troy to arrange it. In the meantime Rose usually knocked on the shop’s front door and waited to be let in. As she raised her hand to knock, she caught a good look at the storefront and stopped in confusion.
The entire outside of the building had been renovated, and now it shone in shades of blue and yellow. A giant yellow sun hung over the doorway, with the name HELIO written in blue across it.
She knocked on the door, found it open, and stepped in cautiously. “Iris?”
“Come on in!” Iris called from somewhere in the back of the building
Rose locked the door behind her and stared. On Friday there had been the regular half of the shop, with clothes and racks and the till, and the other, empty half that was still being renovated. The two spaces had been separated by a wall. Today the wall was gone, and the empty shop next door had been transformed into a space of blues and yellows, with mirrors and empty clothes racks and boxes and boxes stacked all around.
“What happened?” Rose said in astonishment. “Iris?”
Iris appeared from the back, dressed in a white sweater set and dark brown skirt that grazed her knees, a far cry from Rose’s pink and orange minidress and pink tights.
“Can you believe it?” Iris demanded. “I got here this morning and it looked like, like this!” She waved an arm at the new space.
“But how did this all get done on the weekend?” Rose asked. “I don’t get it - the wall was up and nothing was painted or anything on Friday!”
Iris looked troubled. “I know. But it’s all done now.”
“Completely?”
“There are a few things left to do. I think part of the crew will be by today to finish up. Mr. Troy didn’t leave many instructions for me about that. He said to just let the work crew handle it all.”
“He’s usually so careful and picky,” Rose commented.
“I know! And he’s just impossible to reach lately.” Iris sighed. “I hate feeling like something is going on but I don’t know what.”
“It’s just so strange.” Rose started to walk over to the new space to investigate, but she was stopped by an angry pounding at the door.
“It’s Jim,” Iris said, and let him in.
“What the hell is going on?” Jim demanded when he was let into the shop. “My crew and I have plans drawn up for this place, and then I get here this morning and see that everything’s finished differently!”
Iris shrugged. “This is how we found it today. I don’t know any more than you do right now.”
Jim looked at Rose, who shook her head. “Sorry.”
He threw a thick roll of papers down in disgust. “I have never put up with so much nonsense on a job before! Who does your boss think he is?”
“Our boss,” Iris pointed out. “As in, the one who makes the decisions.”
He ran a hand through his blond hair. “Fine. Call him for me, please, so we can straighten this out.”
“All right.” Iris went to the phone, and Rose watched Jim watch Iris now that Iris wasn’t looking directly at him.
Despite the summer weather, he was wearing the same black leather jacket he always wore. Rose often wondered whether he felt the heat in it. She thought she might have to make awkward small talk until Iris returned, but Jim muttered something and walked outside.
And she thought this would be an ordinary job in an ordinary shop, Rose thought to herself. Instead she was caught in the middle of strange remodeling practices and two people who were attracted to each other but were determined to avoid it.
There was a new shipment of boxes stacked up by the counter, so she started to open them up. The first box showed a pile of vibrant blue. Rose carefully picked up the item on top and shook it out. It was a long dress with long, full sleeves and a high neck. She recognized it as a knockoff of a Laura Ashley maxi-dress made popular recently. When she held it up to her, the hemline hit the floor and kept going. Some fashions were meant for taller people.
“I can’t reach Mr. Troy,” Iris said, coming out of the back office. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do! He’s been really terrible lately about filling me in.” She caught sight of the dress in Rose’s hands. “Is that a maxi-dress?” she demanded. “I never thought we’d get anything so trendy in.”
Rose handed it over. “Maybe it’s time you ordered more fun stuff.”
“Well, I didn’t order this one. Mr. Troy did. But it’s nice.” Iris glanced around. “Where’s Jim?”
“He went outside.” Rose walked to the door and peered out the window. “Here he is.”
Iris immediately busied herself with unpacking dresses. Rose rolled her eyes and opened the door.
“Well?” Jim asked as soon as he was inside. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t reach Mr. Troy,” Iris said apologetically. “I really don’t know what’s going on. I’m sorry.”
Jim sighed loudly. “This is the strangest job I’ve ever worked. No feedback, no questions answered, odd work being done when we’re not here.” He shook his head. “We’ll finish up what we started next door. If I don’t hear from your employer, we’re leaving at the end of the day.”
There was no time to waste. The Doctor had been reminded that danger lurked all around. First it was Ian, showing up unexpectedly at Cambridge. Next could be anything, like one of his previous regenerations or the Brigadier, or something even worse. He had to get back to the TARDIS.
With that worthy goal in mind, he arrived home late that night with a large box.
“Did you carry that all the way home?” Rose demanded as he set it down on the floor with a huge sigh.
“Yes. No. Well, if by carry you mean held in my lap on the way home...”
She was already peeking inside. “What is all this?”
He pulled out the item on top. “A modified video camera! Not quite digital, but not bad for this year.”
Billy took it out of his hands. “How’d you manage to rig this up?”
He was rewarded with looks of pity and scorn.
“The Doctor can do anything,” Rose said reproachfully.
“Time Lord,” was all the Doctor said. “Trust me.”
“Trust him,” Rose added. “You should have seen him in the nineteen-fifties.”
There was also an Autocue and videotapes at the ready, in short, everything that one would need to film the Doctor according to the notes left him by Sally Sparrow.
“That’s so cool!” Rose said enthusiastically. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”
She and the Doctor beamed at each other and Billy rolled his eyes. Sometimes they were just too much.
Eventually the Doctor pulled himself away from Rose.
“Right! Well, let’s have a bite to eat, shall we? Then we can come back and rehearse a bit, do a dry run, and film this all up, nice and tidy.” He paused and glanced around. “What’s, er, for dinner?”
“I just got back,” Rose said. “Iris and I went to that Italian place near the shop.”
“Oh. Okay.” The Doctor looked at Billy.
“I had takeaway, mate. No leftovers.”
The Doctor sighed. “Anything in the kitchen?”
They started taping the next night. The Doctor left Cambridge early, canceling his last two classes. He was eager to start filming. Despite the early hour, Billy was already back at the flat.
“Hello.” The Doctor took off his coat and laid it across a chair. “Shouldn’t you be out pounding the pavement in search of employment?”
Billy grinned. “Found a job, mate.”
“Already? Good news! In law enforcement?”
Billy snorted. “Right. Men of color aren’t exactly welcome these days.”
“Still, you could.” The Doctor put his glasses on. “Someone has to make the leap.”
“I know I could. And maybe it makes me weak, but I don’t feel like dealing with everything I’d have to deal with in this time and place. I want something to go easy for me.”
“What sort of job did you find, then?”
Billy smiled. “What do you think? I bumped into a man with a camera this afternoon. I’m going into film production. I’m starting at the bottom, but I’m a quick learner.”
They were waiting impatiently by the time Rose got home.
“You’re back!” she said in delight upon seeing the Doctor. “And early.”
He grinned. “Had to get back into my suit and gear up for taping.” He rubbed the front of his beloved brown suit.
“Are we ready to start?” Rose looked around the flat. One of the kitchen chairs was placed in front of the modified camera, and the Doctor’s Autocue sat on the coffee table, piled up on some books to make it eye level with him when he sat down.
“We’re ready. Places, Billy. Rose, you stay out of the camera’s way.”
The Doctor looked over the materials. One Autocue. One transcript, done in shorthand by Sally Sparrow’s friend Larry. One transcript, written out in Sally’s own hand. The video camera he had built.
He glanced over at Rose. She was wearing a pink dress with a low, square neckline. Whatever she was wearing underneath it was doing impressive things to her cleavage. He forced himself to look away and focused on the matching pink headband in her hair. That was better. Then she saw him staring and smiled at him, and he was utterly distracted by her mouth.
Billy cleared his throat. “You ready or what?”
“What?”
“Are you ready?” Billy spoke clearly and slowly, and the Doctor scowled.
“Of course I’m ready! Just waiting on you.”
Billy muttered something that sounded like, “Yeah, sure,” and took his place behind the camera.
“Do you have everything?” Rose asked.
“I think so.” The Doctor scanned his notes and powered up the Autocue. “Billy?”
“I’m ready.” Billy was feeling surreal. Here he was, stuck in the past. He was making a video for a medium that wouldn’t exist for decades to come, and he was doing it based on the writings of a girl he’d spoken to for less than five minutes. The Doctor was right. Sometimes, if you thought about it too much, you just got a headache.
The Doctor smoothed a hand over his hair and adjusted his glasses. Then he cleared his throat and glanced back at Rose. She smiled, that sparkle in her eyes that he loved telling him that she was having a tremendous amount of fun. “All right,” the Doctor finally said. “Turn the camera on.”
Billy focused the camera on the Doctor. “We’re rolling. Go.”
The Doctor had read the words so often he had memorized them. Still, he read as he looked at the camera, determined to get this exactly right, determined to get back to the TARDIS, to get Rose back to where she belonged.
“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint -” Rose stood up and tugged her short skirt down, trying to sit without showing too much skin. Despite the importance of the moment, he got too distracted and struggled to find his place again. “- it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.”
He paused a moment. Billy shook his head and Rose smiled in absolute delight.
“It got away from me, yeah,” the Doctor admitted ruefully. Never did random words on a page so aptly mirror his feelings. He paused. “Well, I can hear you.” Which was not exactly true, since he couldn’t hear anything, but he knew what was coming, and that counted.
When he’d finished he switched the Autocue off and leaned back with a sigh. “Let’s look over what we filmed.”
It took several hours more, but they finally had it the way he wanted.
“We’ve done it,” the Doctor declared. “We finally did it!” He felt elated and excited and he beamed at his companions.
They merely looked at him.
“What?” he demanded. “What is it?”
“How’s it work, then?” Rose asked. “Will we get sent back right now?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, scratching his head. “It could work that way. Or not.”
“Or not?” Billy repeated. “Then when? When we take the tape out of the camera? When I put it onto dvds?”
“I just don’t know.” The Doctor hated to admit it, but he didn’t know how this would all work, didn’t know how they’d get back.
Rose sighed.
“It’s late,” Billy said. “Would you mind getting out of my bedroom? We can celebrate tomorrow night. We’ll have a nice curry.”
Billy had a motive for proposing dinner. He had news for them.
“All right, then,” the Doctor said once they had paid for their dinners the next night. “Let’s have it.”
“Have what?” Billy asked innocently.
“You’ve been fidgeting all night. What’s on your mind?”
“Let’s get out of here first.”
Once outside they settled into a familiar pattern - Rose on the left, holding the Doctor’s hand, and Billy on the Doctor’s right. They walked down the street, enjoying the warm air and the few remaining moments of daylight.
Billy took a deep breath. “My first day at work went really well. I get on with my boss and all the others.”
“That’s good,” Rose said encouragingly.
“It is, yeah. Anyway...I wanted to tell you both...I’m moving out tomorrow.”
This came as a surprise to them both. The Doctor stopped walking.
“So soon?”
“Yeah.”
“But, but...where will you go?” Rose felt silly, but she was going to miss Billy. She’d gotten used to him being around, especially with the Doctor working long hours at Cambridge.
“Reckon I’ve got to leave home sometime, eh, Mum?” Billy’s joke fell flat and he forced a smile. “I’m grateful to the two of you. I really, really am, and I’ll do everything I can, as soon as I can, to get you back where you belong. But it’s time I headed out and started my new life.”
“But what will you DO?” Rose was all but wringing her hands. The Doctor slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him in a one-armed hug.
“My boss helped me find a flat near work. It’s not bad. I’ll be making enough to support myself. Can’t live with the two of you lovebirds forever.”
Rose blushed. The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Yes. Well. I better give you this, then.” He fished around inside his pocket and pulled out a flat disk.
“What’s this?” Billy asked as he took it from him.
“It’s a copy of my performance for Sally. Put it in a safe place until it’s time to transfer it to dvd. Don’t ask when to do it, you’ll know when it’s time. I left you a list of places in London where I placed copies for safe keeping. Mostly safe deposit boxes. I’ll pay the fees on them until you don’t need it anymore.”
Billy fingered the wrapped package before placing it in the front pocket of his shirt.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t think you should leave yet,” Rose couldn’t help saying. “You haven’t been here very long. Maybe you shouldn’t be on your own yet. What if this job doesn’t work out and you need money?”
“I’ll be all right,” Billy assured her. “I have three magic words.”
“Magic words?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What three magic words?”
Billy smiled a beatific smile. “Apple, Yahoo!, and Google.”
Thirty-one
Characters: Ten, Rose
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
I'm taking another break from lj and this fic after this week - Real Life requires it. Hopefully you can all hang in there until I can get back to writing. I swear, this fic is all written out and finished in my head. And you will LOVE IT.
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The Doctor arrived at Cambridge Monday morning with a renewed sense of purpose. Watching the moon landing as a passive observer had reminded him that he had a TARDIS to rescue. The thought of those Weeping Angels clustered around it, trying to get inside, made him determined to thwart their efforts. He had a sound plan and knew just what to do to set things up in order for Sally Sparrow to help them.
But in the meantime, he had a department meeting to attend. Normally he adored any sort of meeting or get-together. You never knew when an alien in hiding might reveal itself, or some other catastrophe come up that needed averting. Those kinds of things were very entertaining.
Faculty meetings - they were the exact opposite of entertaining. Was there anything worse than a room full of academics gathered to discuss their own brilliant work? The Doctor didn’t think so. Individually these people were perfectly acceptable, but place them around one table and he was forcibly reminded why he’d run away from Gallifrey in the first place. Stuffy, uptight, self-righteous people were no fun to be around, and it didn’t matter what species they were.
Meetings at UNIT used to be like this, too, come to think if it.
He took a seat at the conference table and helped himself to a pastry sitting in the middle of the table. The pastries were the only thing that made these meetings worth attending. As each faculty member came in, the Doctor amused himself by wondering which one was a potential Slitheen. Perhaps they weren’t heavy enough to be a Slitheen in hiding, but one never knew.
When everyone had finally drifted in, the Doctor settled down and allowed his thoughts to drift to Rose.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch while watching the rest of the moon landing coverage. Some guests had fallen asleep as well. Others had left to go home. Billy had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. At last the Doctor had decided to leave him there and had ushered Rose, in a half-awake, half-asleep mode, back to the flat and into her bed. She’d made no protest and slept until Sunday afternoon.
They’d acted like everything was normal that Sunday, and it had been a relief, in a way, to have Billy around to act as a buffer. This morning he’d left before dawn while she was still asleep. He would never admit to being a coward, but even though he had kissed her - and she had kissed him back! - he wasn’t ready for what could or would happen next.
He wondered if she knew what he’d been about to tell her when she’d kissed him.
He wondered if she could ever believe him.
“Everyone here?” Roger, the head of the department, looked around the table as his assistant shut the door. “Who are we missing?”
No one admitted to being missing, so he cleared his throat and consulted a piece of paper.
“Very well. Happy Monday to all of you.” He nodded impartially to the men seated around the table, and they all nodded back. “Just a few brief bits of business...”
The Doctor tuned him out and looked around the table. Ian Chesterton sat across from him, and he had to visibly force himself not to stare too long. Beside Ian was someone that the Doctor didn’t know, and he was just wondering who it was when Roger addressed that same question.
“Smith, you arrived right after Frost here left on holiday. Frost teaches biology. Frost, our newest hire.”
Frost, a man in his fifties with thinning white hair smiled and stood to extend his hand. “I’m Peter Frost.”
The Doctor stood as well and shook his hand. “Hello! I’m the Doctor.” He caught his mistake the moment he said it, and saw Ian looking at him curiously. “The doctoral candidate,” he corrected hastily. “One of the, er, doctoral candidates.” He heard himself stumbling over his words and sighed. “Nice to meet you.” He sat down, cursing himself as the meeting continued. He pretended to look at his copy of the agenda and take notes, but his mind was not on whatever issue needed to be discussed.
He glanced at Ian out of the corner of his eye, but Ian appeared focused on the conversation. If he’d thought anything was odd about the Doctor’s name, he didn’t look it. And why would he think to make the connection between his Doctor and this man who worked with him? His Doctor had been old, and Ian had never been told about the Time Lord habit of regeneration.
The chemistry chair was speaking now, and his words caught the Doctor’s attention. It was just a brief comment about extended travel, but it was clearly directed at Ian. Ian’s lips tightened momentarily, but that was the only indication that he’d heard. Someone else took up the discussion, and the talk was diverted back to the agenda.
He’d never wondered what happened to his companions after they’d left him. Liar, a small voice said inside his head. You tried not to think about Susan, but you did. You did, too often. Until you killed them all and it didn’t matter anymore.
Shut up, the Doctor told the small voice firmly, and it did.
Until he’d seen Sarah Jane again, he’d thought of her fondly, as someone from the past, but never had he imagined what her life was like after he’d dropped her off in Croyden.
Aberdeen, the voice corrected him.
Why had he never thought to find anyone after they’d gone? To make sure they were all right? He’d always continued on his way, picking up new companions and forgetting the old ones. What was it like for Ian and Barbara to return several years after disappearing? How had they coped?
Until he’d brought Rose back home twelve months late, he’d never thought about the consequences. Since he’d met Rose, he was doing all kinds of things he’d never done before. If Rose left him, would he go on to the next adventure and forget her? Could he be content to leave her to live her life without him?
The very thought made a chill run down his spine. Everything was different after Rose.
The meeting broke up in time to hold the first classes of the morning. The Doctor stood up, slowly folding his typed agenda up and sticking it in his pocket.
“You know, I used to have a friend who called himself the Doctor,” Ian said with a smile from across the table. He shook his head. “Well, maybe it was me who gave him that name, but it fit him.”
The Doctor swallowed. “Really?”
“Haven’t seen him in a while - he liked to travel. But I think of him often. He was...” Ian paused. “Nothing like you. He was quite older than you, and a bit cranky. He was a good friend.” He smiled. “See you later, Smith.”
“Have a good day,” the Doctor responded mechanically. Sooner or later, he would say something he shouldn’t. It was time to leave Cambridge.
In between his last class of the morning and lunch, he went to his desk and took out a thick sheaf of handwritten papers. He’d written his dissertation one night after Rose and Billy had gone to bed, sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea and some delicious chocolate biscuits. He’d hoped to give the impression of an average student, needing some time to formulate a thesis and write up a dissertation. The hardest part was not expanding human knowledge too far beyond what was currently known. No sense in pretending any longer. Better that he get away from Ian.
He brushed a few crumbs off the folder and went to the department secretary’s office. She was a woman in her late sixties, rumored to have been there longer than any other Cambridge official. Her grey hair was piled in highest beehive the Doctor had ever seen, and she peered at him over the tops of her glasses.
“Yes?” Even though she was, nominally, the secretary and worked for them all, the Doctor was far from the only one who was intimidated enough by her to rarely ask her to actually perform her expected duties of typing and filing and letter writing. She worked in the office surrounded by three other, junior secretaries who lived in terror of her displeasure. The Doctor felt rather bad for them.
He smiled his most charming smile. It had no effect at all. “Hello, Mrs. Loudon. I have a brief dissertation here that needs typing up.”
“And you expect me to do it, do you?”
“Well, I thought -”
“Give it to me,” she snapped, and held out her hand. “I’ll have one of the undersecretaries take care of it. Come back next Monday.”
“Thanks.” The Doctor backed away while he still could. Before he could turn around, he saw Mrs. Loudon bark a name and hold his folder out to one of the other secretaries. The younger woman looked at the Doctor as she accepted the papers. For a brief second it looked like a light was suddenly shining from her. The Doctor blinked hard. The light was gone and she was walking away.
He sighed. Time for lunch.
Rose woke up in a happy daze. Watching the moon landing on tv had been amazing. Watching the Doctor relax and laugh had been even more amazing. Someone had referred to him as Rose’s husband while speaking to Rose during the night, and secretly she glowed with pleasure at the thought. Having to get up and go in to work was a bit of a letdown after all that. She’d much rather stay in bed and think over their kisses and what he had said to her. Rose pulled the covers up and decided to do just that for a little bit.
Her happy reverie was broken by the sounds of Billy in the kitchen. She groaned. Billy was a fantastic cook, but he was so loud and messy in the kitchen. She’d finally trained him to clean up his messes, but nothing she said or did could convince him to not yell at the tv or talk loudly to himself as he made breakfast.
Rose got up and showered and dressed and did her hair and makeup. Same routine for weeks and weeks now. It was losing its appeal and she really, really wanted to get the TARDIS back and return to their normal travels. She felt guilty for that, knowing they’d be leaving Billy behind, but she couldn’t change that.
Billy was piling fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate as she came in. He whistled when he saw her.
“Look at you, girl! Work that mini.”
Rose blushed and slid into a chair, effectively hiding her miniskirt.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Billy grinned. “You are totally rocking the hip disco fashions.”
She laughed. “It’s not quite disco yet.” She accepted a plate of eggs and toast. “Thanks! Anyway, you’re not much better,” she continued, waving her fork at him.
He glanced down at his powder blue shirt. “What, this old thing?”
“It’s new, isn’t it?”
“I need to fit in,” he explained, starting to eat his own eggs. “I’m looking for a job today.”
“Are you? Where?”
“Anywhere they’ll have me, to start.” He shrugged. “Race relations aren’t what they could be this year.”
“Well, it gets better,” she said encouragingly.
“Eventually. Doesn’t mean I want to live through it.”
“It’s hard, being thrown back in time.” Rose got up to get a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. “Once we went back to 1879 and met Queen Victoria.”
Billy watched as she poured two glasses of juice. “Yeah? Was she as uptight as they say?”
“Maybe a bit more.” Rose grinned as she sat back down and handed him a glass. “She didn’t like me too much - thought I wasn’t dressed enough.”
“If she saw you now, she’d think the same thing,” Billy pointed out with a smirk.
They parted ways after breakfast, Rose for the shop and Billy to do the washing up before his job search. As Rose headed down the stairs, she caught a glimpse of an open door on the ground floor.
“Hi, Mrs. MacMurray!”
“Good morning, dear!” Her landlady smiled at her. “I just got back from the most marvelous walk. Such a beautiful morning. Shame you have to work and miss it all.”
“Oh, I won’t miss anything,” Rose assured her. “I have a walk of my own coming up.”
“Still, a young woman shouldn’t have to work outside the home if her husband can support her.” The older woman shook her head, the image of disapproval in a light pink polyester pantsuit. “In my day, it wasn’t done.”
Rose smiled uncomfortably. “Well, I like to work. Have a good day!”
The door to the flat closed, and the smile slide from her face. So much for women’s lib. She might not exactly enjoy working in a shop every day, and the Doctor’s current salary certainly meant that she didn’t have to, but what would she do instead? This way she stayed busy and contributed to their income, and - Rose cut off her thoughts. There was no need to justify her actions to anyone.
She met the postman on the way out and had to look again, since it was someone new.
“Good morning!” she said, waving to catch his attention. “Where’s Joe today?”
The postman glanced up at her from the stack of envelopes in his hand. “Went on holiday. I’m his replacement.”
“Holiday? But he just got back from holiday!”
“I wouldn’t know.” He entered the building and let the door swing shut behind him.
Rose frowned. She would have gone after him to ask more questions, but a peek at her watch reminded her that she’d be late if she didn’t hurry up.
The postman was forgotten as she made her daily walk to work. Familiar sights and sounds greeted her as she entered the neighborhood. Children walking to school, women doing early morning shopping, men in smart suits heading to the office. Mr. Patel from the grocery across the street waved to her as he swept the sidewalk clean.
“Morning, Rose!” he called. “Come by at lunchtime. I’ll have fresh chips just for you!”
“I’ll be there!” she promised. “Sounds delicious!”
Iris kept promising her a key to the shop’s back door, but so far she hadn’t been able to get hold of Mr. Troy to arrange it. In the meantime Rose usually knocked on the shop’s front door and waited to be let in. As she raised her hand to knock, she caught a good look at the storefront and stopped in confusion.
The entire outside of the building had been renovated, and now it shone in shades of blue and yellow. A giant yellow sun hung over the doorway, with the name HELIO written in blue across it.
She knocked on the door, found it open, and stepped in cautiously. “Iris?”
“Come on in!” Iris called from somewhere in the back of the building
Rose locked the door behind her and stared. On Friday there had been the regular half of the shop, with clothes and racks and the till, and the other, empty half that was still being renovated. The two spaces had been separated by a wall. Today the wall was gone, and the empty shop next door had been transformed into a space of blues and yellows, with mirrors and empty clothes racks and boxes and boxes stacked all around.
“What happened?” Rose said in astonishment. “Iris?”
Iris appeared from the back, dressed in a white sweater set and dark brown skirt that grazed her knees, a far cry from Rose’s pink and orange minidress and pink tights.
“Can you believe it?” Iris demanded. “I got here this morning and it looked like, like this!” She waved an arm at the new space.
“But how did this all get done on the weekend?” Rose asked. “I don’t get it - the wall was up and nothing was painted or anything on Friday!”
Iris looked troubled. “I know. But it’s all done now.”
“Completely?”
“There are a few things left to do. I think part of the crew will be by today to finish up. Mr. Troy didn’t leave many instructions for me about that. He said to just let the work crew handle it all.”
“He’s usually so careful and picky,” Rose commented.
“I know! And he’s just impossible to reach lately.” Iris sighed. “I hate feeling like something is going on but I don’t know what.”
“It’s just so strange.” Rose started to walk over to the new space to investigate, but she was stopped by an angry pounding at the door.
“It’s Jim,” Iris said, and let him in.
“What the hell is going on?” Jim demanded when he was let into the shop. “My crew and I have plans drawn up for this place, and then I get here this morning and see that everything’s finished differently!”
Iris shrugged. “This is how we found it today. I don’t know any more than you do right now.”
Jim looked at Rose, who shook her head. “Sorry.”
He threw a thick roll of papers down in disgust. “I have never put up with so much nonsense on a job before! Who does your boss think he is?”
“Our boss,” Iris pointed out. “As in, the one who makes the decisions.”
He ran a hand through his blond hair. “Fine. Call him for me, please, so we can straighten this out.”
“All right.” Iris went to the phone, and Rose watched Jim watch Iris now that Iris wasn’t looking directly at him.
Despite the summer weather, he was wearing the same black leather jacket he always wore. Rose often wondered whether he felt the heat in it. She thought she might have to make awkward small talk until Iris returned, but Jim muttered something and walked outside.
And she thought this would be an ordinary job in an ordinary shop, Rose thought to herself. Instead she was caught in the middle of strange remodeling practices and two people who were attracted to each other but were determined to avoid it.
There was a new shipment of boxes stacked up by the counter, so she started to open them up. The first box showed a pile of vibrant blue. Rose carefully picked up the item on top and shook it out. It was a long dress with long, full sleeves and a high neck. She recognized it as a knockoff of a Laura Ashley maxi-dress made popular recently. When she held it up to her, the hemline hit the floor and kept going. Some fashions were meant for taller people.
“I can’t reach Mr. Troy,” Iris said, coming out of the back office. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do! He’s been really terrible lately about filling me in.” She caught sight of the dress in Rose’s hands. “Is that a maxi-dress?” she demanded. “I never thought we’d get anything so trendy in.”
Rose handed it over. “Maybe it’s time you ordered more fun stuff.”
“Well, I didn’t order this one. Mr. Troy did. But it’s nice.” Iris glanced around. “Where’s Jim?”
“He went outside.” Rose walked to the door and peered out the window. “Here he is.”
Iris immediately busied herself with unpacking dresses. Rose rolled her eyes and opened the door.
“Well?” Jim asked as soon as he was inside. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t reach Mr. Troy,” Iris said apologetically. “I really don’t know what’s going on. I’m sorry.”
Jim sighed loudly. “This is the strangest job I’ve ever worked. No feedback, no questions answered, odd work being done when we’re not here.” He shook his head. “We’ll finish up what we started next door. If I don’t hear from your employer, we’re leaving at the end of the day.”
There was no time to waste. The Doctor had been reminded that danger lurked all around. First it was Ian, showing up unexpectedly at Cambridge. Next could be anything, like one of his previous regenerations or the Brigadier, or something even worse. He had to get back to the TARDIS.
With that worthy goal in mind, he arrived home late that night with a large box.
“Did you carry that all the way home?” Rose demanded as he set it down on the floor with a huge sigh.
“Yes. No. Well, if by carry you mean held in my lap on the way home...”
She was already peeking inside. “What is all this?”
He pulled out the item on top. “A modified video camera! Not quite digital, but not bad for this year.”
Billy took it out of his hands. “How’d you manage to rig this up?”
He was rewarded with looks of pity and scorn.
“The Doctor can do anything,” Rose said reproachfully.
“Time Lord,” was all the Doctor said. “Trust me.”
“Trust him,” Rose added. “You should have seen him in the nineteen-fifties.”
There was also an Autocue and videotapes at the ready, in short, everything that one would need to film the Doctor according to the notes left him by Sally Sparrow.
“That’s so cool!” Rose said enthusiastically. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”
She and the Doctor beamed at each other and Billy rolled his eyes. Sometimes they were just too much.
Eventually the Doctor pulled himself away from Rose.
“Right! Well, let’s have a bite to eat, shall we? Then we can come back and rehearse a bit, do a dry run, and film this all up, nice and tidy.” He paused and glanced around. “What’s, er, for dinner?”
“I just got back,” Rose said. “Iris and I went to that Italian place near the shop.”
“Oh. Okay.” The Doctor looked at Billy.
“I had takeaway, mate. No leftovers.”
The Doctor sighed. “Anything in the kitchen?”
They started taping the next night. The Doctor left Cambridge early, canceling his last two classes. He was eager to start filming. Despite the early hour, Billy was already back at the flat.
“Hello.” The Doctor took off his coat and laid it across a chair. “Shouldn’t you be out pounding the pavement in search of employment?”
Billy grinned. “Found a job, mate.”
“Already? Good news! In law enforcement?”
Billy snorted. “Right. Men of color aren’t exactly welcome these days.”
“Still, you could.” The Doctor put his glasses on. “Someone has to make the leap.”
“I know I could. And maybe it makes me weak, but I don’t feel like dealing with everything I’d have to deal with in this time and place. I want something to go easy for me.”
“What sort of job did you find, then?”
Billy smiled. “What do you think? I bumped into a man with a camera this afternoon. I’m going into film production. I’m starting at the bottom, but I’m a quick learner.”
They were waiting impatiently by the time Rose got home.
“You’re back!” she said in delight upon seeing the Doctor. “And early.”
He grinned. “Had to get back into my suit and gear up for taping.” He rubbed the front of his beloved brown suit.
“Are we ready to start?” Rose looked around the flat. One of the kitchen chairs was placed in front of the modified camera, and the Doctor’s Autocue sat on the coffee table, piled up on some books to make it eye level with him when he sat down.
“We’re ready. Places, Billy. Rose, you stay out of the camera’s way.”
The Doctor looked over the materials. One Autocue. One transcript, done in shorthand by Sally Sparrow’s friend Larry. One transcript, written out in Sally’s own hand. The video camera he had built.
He glanced over at Rose. She was wearing a pink dress with a low, square neckline. Whatever she was wearing underneath it was doing impressive things to her cleavage. He forced himself to look away and focused on the matching pink headband in her hair. That was better. Then she saw him staring and smiled at him, and he was utterly distracted by her mouth.
Billy cleared his throat. “You ready or what?”
“What?”
“Are you ready?” Billy spoke clearly and slowly, and the Doctor scowled.
“Of course I’m ready! Just waiting on you.”
Billy muttered something that sounded like, “Yeah, sure,” and took his place behind the camera.
“Do you have everything?” Rose asked.
“I think so.” The Doctor scanned his notes and powered up the Autocue. “Billy?”
“I’m ready.” Billy was feeling surreal. Here he was, stuck in the past. He was making a video for a medium that wouldn’t exist for decades to come, and he was doing it based on the writings of a girl he’d spoken to for less than five minutes. The Doctor was right. Sometimes, if you thought about it too much, you just got a headache.
The Doctor smoothed a hand over his hair and adjusted his glasses. Then he cleared his throat and glanced back at Rose. She smiled, that sparkle in her eyes that he loved telling him that she was having a tremendous amount of fun. “All right,” the Doctor finally said. “Turn the camera on.”
Billy focused the camera on the Doctor. “We’re rolling. Go.”
The Doctor had read the words so often he had memorized them. Still, he read as he looked at the camera, determined to get this exactly right, determined to get back to the TARDIS, to get Rose back to where she belonged.
“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint -” Rose stood up and tugged her short skirt down, trying to sit without showing too much skin. Despite the importance of the moment, he got too distracted and struggled to find his place again. “- it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.”
He paused a moment. Billy shook his head and Rose smiled in absolute delight.
“It got away from me, yeah,” the Doctor admitted ruefully. Never did random words on a page so aptly mirror his feelings. He paused. “Well, I can hear you.” Which was not exactly true, since he couldn’t hear anything, but he knew what was coming, and that counted.
When he’d finished he switched the Autocue off and leaned back with a sigh. “Let’s look over what we filmed.”
It took several hours more, but they finally had it the way he wanted.
“We’ve done it,” the Doctor declared. “We finally did it!” He felt elated and excited and he beamed at his companions.
They merely looked at him.
“What?” he demanded. “What is it?”
“How’s it work, then?” Rose asked. “Will we get sent back right now?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, scratching his head. “It could work that way. Or not.”
“Or not?” Billy repeated. “Then when? When we take the tape out of the camera? When I put it onto dvds?”
“I just don’t know.” The Doctor hated to admit it, but he didn’t know how this would all work, didn’t know how they’d get back.
Rose sighed.
“It’s late,” Billy said. “Would you mind getting out of my bedroom? We can celebrate tomorrow night. We’ll have a nice curry.”
Billy had a motive for proposing dinner. He had news for them.
“All right, then,” the Doctor said once they had paid for their dinners the next night. “Let’s have it.”
“Have what?” Billy asked innocently.
“You’ve been fidgeting all night. What’s on your mind?”
“Let’s get out of here first.”
Once outside they settled into a familiar pattern - Rose on the left, holding the Doctor’s hand, and Billy on the Doctor’s right. They walked down the street, enjoying the warm air and the few remaining moments of daylight.
Billy took a deep breath. “My first day at work went really well. I get on with my boss and all the others.”
“That’s good,” Rose said encouragingly.
“It is, yeah. Anyway...I wanted to tell you both...I’m moving out tomorrow.”
This came as a surprise to them both. The Doctor stopped walking.
“So soon?”
“Yeah.”
“But, but...where will you go?” Rose felt silly, but she was going to miss Billy. She’d gotten used to him being around, especially with the Doctor working long hours at Cambridge.
“Reckon I’ve got to leave home sometime, eh, Mum?” Billy’s joke fell flat and he forced a smile. “I’m grateful to the two of you. I really, really am, and I’ll do everything I can, as soon as I can, to get you back where you belong. But it’s time I headed out and started my new life.”
“But what will you DO?” Rose was all but wringing her hands. The Doctor slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him in a one-armed hug.
“My boss helped me find a flat near work. It’s not bad. I’ll be making enough to support myself. Can’t live with the two of you lovebirds forever.”
Rose blushed. The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Yes. Well. I better give you this, then.” He fished around inside his pocket and pulled out a flat disk.
“What’s this?” Billy asked as he took it from him.
“It’s a copy of my performance for Sally. Put it in a safe place until it’s time to transfer it to dvd. Don’t ask when to do it, you’ll know when it’s time. I left you a list of places in London where I placed copies for safe keeping. Mostly safe deposit boxes. I’ll pay the fees on them until you don’t need it anymore.”
Billy fingered the wrapped package before placing it in the front pocket of his shirt.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t think you should leave yet,” Rose couldn’t help saying. “You haven’t been here very long. Maybe you shouldn’t be on your own yet. What if this job doesn’t work out and you need money?”
“I’ll be all right,” Billy assured her. “I have three magic words.”
“Magic words?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What three magic words?”
Billy smiled a beatific smile. “Apple, Yahoo!, and Google.”
Thirty-one