The Bits In Between
folder
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
6,036
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
6,036
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Dr. Who, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Rose/The End of the World
They sat in the chip shop snacking, laughing and people-watching. Rose wanted to ask so many questions but the Doctor looked so happy and peaceful that she couldn’t disrupt this lovely moment.
She studied him while trying to be nonchalant. He wasn’t someone she and her mates would have usually given a second look to. He looked more like someone her mum would fancy. In fact, he looked old enough to be her dad (or at least one of his mates.) His ears were almost too large, his nose a little too sharp. His build was slight. Nothing she would usually find attractive. All logic said she shouldn’t. However, those blue eyes pierced her and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. When he grabbed her hand, she felt it in her whole body. No one, not even Mickey, made her feel like that. Then, he took her away in his magical box, to a future she could hardly comprehend. She met aliens, the last of her kind, the end of the world. She almost died. It should have sent her running for the hills. Instead, it intoxicated her and she wanted more. Much more. And she wanted this man to give it to her.
When she realised that she was staring at him, she shook her head to clear it. That was ridiculous. He couldn’t possibly fancy her. And she most certainly didn’t fancy him. But he did ask her to come along. Twice. She absently munched on a vinegar soaked chip while pondering exactly what this was.
The Doctor noticed her staring, of course. He noticed everything. He noticed the almost dreamy expression. It didn’t faze him. In his many, many years plenty of females and males and undefinables, for that matter, had looked at him like that. It didn’t mean much, and he almost never acted on it. And most certainly not with dyed blonde 19-year-olds from South London. Even if they were somewhat pretty and quite clever, and had the gall to challenge him, and had saved his life.
Mostly from years of practice, he could watch her like she was watching him without getting caught. He had seen dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of girls like her across time and space. So what was it about her? When he grabbed her hand in the basement of that shop, it was purely a heroic fancy. He would have done the same for anyone down there. And yet, she started asking questions. Good questions. This wasn’t the average ape. Or maybe he was just entirely too lonely since the war. He tried to tell himself he would have asked whomever he met to come with him. He knew it wasn’t true. There was something special about her. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what yet.
The folks back home (had there been any) would have laughed and accused him of showing off for her. They’d be right. The year 5.5/apple/26? The end of the world? He was pathetic. Maybe showing her the end of her world made it easier to accept the end of his. He didn’t mean to snap at her, or open up this soon. He had done both and barely regretted any of it.
When Jabe had questioned who Rose was, he played coy for a couple of reasons. One: Jabe was beautiful and intriguing and two: how does one introduce the girl he saved from shop dummies who in turn saved him from their leader, and in the spur of the moment (or insanity) asked her to come with him, leaving her ordinary life behind? It was safer for all involved to pretend she wasn’t that important to him yet.
Besides, she was young. Too young. She had no idea how much too young. He knew he looked much older than her and not quite all of her society accepted the appearance of a twenty-year age gap, let alone a nine hundred year one. Those were dangerous thoughts. He had only just met her and there was no way she would have been interested in him, no matter who he was.
During both of their ponderings, they kept up the pretence of small talk that eventually fell into a comfortable silence. Rose grabbed another chip, missing the fact that it was very saturated with vinegar.
“You have…” the Doctor motioned to his lip as if something was on it. She went to wipe whatever it was away, but touched the wrong side. As he shook his head, he took it upon himself to catch the wayward drop.
She had the same idea and to the rest of the world, it looked as if he was cupping her cheek and she held his hand in place. She blushed as she turned away from him, trying to hide her smile.
“So, Doctor, where to next?”
She studied him while trying to be nonchalant. He wasn’t someone she and her mates would have usually given a second look to. He looked more like someone her mum would fancy. In fact, he looked old enough to be her dad (or at least one of his mates.) His ears were almost too large, his nose a little too sharp. His build was slight. Nothing she would usually find attractive. All logic said she shouldn’t. However, those blue eyes pierced her and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. When he grabbed her hand, she felt it in her whole body. No one, not even Mickey, made her feel like that. Then, he took her away in his magical box, to a future she could hardly comprehend. She met aliens, the last of her kind, the end of the world. She almost died. It should have sent her running for the hills. Instead, it intoxicated her and she wanted more. Much more. And she wanted this man to give it to her.
When she realised that she was staring at him, she shook her head to clear it. That was ridiculous. He couldn’t possibly fancy her. And she most certainly didn’t fancy him. But he did ask her to come along. Twice. She absently munched on a vinegar soaked chip while pondering exactly what this was.
The Doctor noticed her staring, of course. He noticed everything. He noticed the almost dreamy expression. It didn’t faze him. In his many, many years plenty of females and males and undefinables, for that matter, had looked at him like that. It didn’t mean much, and he almost never acted on it. And most certainly not with dyed blonde 19-year-olds from South London. Even if they were somewhat pretty and quite clever, and had the gall to challenge him, and had saved his life.
Mostly from years of practice, he could watch her like she was watching him without getting caught. He had seen dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of girls like her across time and space. So what was it about her? When he grabbed her hand in the basement of that shop, it was purely a heroic fancy. He would have done the same for anyone down there. And yet, she started asking questions. Good questions. This wasn’t the average ape. Or maybe he was just entirely too lonely since the war. He tried to tell himself he would have asked whomever he met to come with him. He knew it wasn’t true. There was something special about her. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what yet.
The folks back home (had there been any) would have laughed and accused him of showing off for her. They’d be right. The year 5.5/apple/26? The end of the world? He was pathetic. Maybe showing her the end of her world made it easier to accept the end of his. He didn’t mean to snap at her, or open up this soon. He had done both and barely regretted any of it.
When Jabe had questioned who Rose was, he played coy for a couple of reasons. One: Jabe was beautiful and intriguing and two: how does one introduce the girl he saved from shop dummies who in turn saved him from their leader, and in the spur of the moment (or insanity) asked her to come with him, leaving her ordinary life behind? It was safer for all involved to pretend she wasn’t that important to him yet.
Besides, she was young. Too young. She had no idea how much too young. He knew he looked much older than her and not quite all of her society accepted the appearance of a twenty-year age gap, let alone a nine hundred year one. Those were dangerous thoughts. He had only just met her and there was no way she would have been interested in him, no matter who he was.
During both of their ponderings, they kept up the pretence of small talk that eventually fell into a comfortable silence. Rose grabbed another chip, missing the fact that it was very saturated with vinegar.
“You have…” the Doctor motioned to his lip as if something was on it. She went to wipe whatever it was away, but touched the wrong side. As he shook his head, he took it upon himself to catch the wayward drop.
She had the same idea and to the rest of the world, it looked as if he was cupping her cheek and she held his hand in place. She blushed as she turned away from him, trying to hide her smile.
“So, Doctor, where to next?”