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remix_redux2007-04-15 10:35 pm
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Rose, Squared (Parallel Lines Meet At Infinity) [Doctor Who: Ten/Rose]
Title: Rose, Squared (Parallel Lines Meet At Infinity)
Author: LilacFree (as Soubi_Smalls)
Summary: The Doctor has a hard enough time resisting one Rose. Can he control himself with two? Or is this really Rose?
Rating: NC-17, though not by much
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: Het, Femslash
Original Story is 'Rose, Squared', by Jinni
Rose, Squared (Parallel Lines Meet At Infinity)
The TARDIS was tired. She’d had a right banging up, falling through a crack in space-time into a parallel universe. The ride back had been painfully jolting. Rose sympathized. She patted the console, told the Doctor she was going to turn in for the night, and retired to her room. She had a quick shower, without lingering over her beauty regimen, and went to bed.
Mickey was gone. She was too numb to cry any more. It was like he was dead. She taken him for granted, and he’d left her to stay in another universe. Rose loved her mum, but Jackie helped defined Rose by Rose’s rebellion. Mickey had been her touchstone. She came back from her adventures to Mickey, who knew her as a whole person, not a child. She measured the changes in herself through his eyes.
She’d held onto him, when she should have let go. She had clung to the skin of the tiny little world he represented. Now he’d let go, and she spun off into space. Rose fell into an uneasy sleep.
”I bring life,” she said, and the dead lived. Pete Tyler, Mickey’s grandmother, Jack, Gwyneth; she protected the Doctor. He came to her, his blue eyes tender, and kissed her, for love and to take her sacrifice onto him.
She couldn’t bear it. She would NOT bear it.
The Doctor’s tastes in music continually evolved. His regenerations were only one influence in this process.
The TARDIS liked mellow sounds, and less processed sounds: acoustic instruments and vocals. His second incarnation had played a recorder to it, but he couldn’t work on the components and play a musical instrument simultaneously. Instead, he played recordings. Presently, the TARDIS was listening to a live-recorded Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young concert. “’You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girl,’” the Doctor sang along. Some of the indicator lights seemed to be pulsing along to the guitar riffs.
“’Keeps me searching for a heart of gold, and I’m getting old’… bah, song lyrics.”
“You’re only as old as you feel, Doctor,” Rose said playfully.
The Doctor lifted his head too quickly and banged it on the overhead. “Rose, I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“Are you all right? That’s a new head, you don’t want to go losing it yet. Budge up and let me have a look.”
She squirmed down into the crawl space with him. “I’m fine, really,” he gabbled, trying to push back to make room. Having Rose so close was far from unpleasant, but that was the trouble. She was delightfully resilient in places he couldn’t help but notice when they were rubbed up against him. He couldn’t just leave, or he’d increase the contact between them. “It was just a bump.”
Her fingers sifted through his hair. “Oh, that explains it.” She grinned impudently at him.
“Explains what?” he asked a little nervously.
“All the gel in your hair cushioned the blow, pretty boy,” she laughed and rumpled his hair wildly.
“Rose, stop that!” he protested, more amused than annoyed. He had to grab her wrists and pull her hands out of his hair. She resisted, and he had to wrestle her a little to pin her hands by her head.
Her thigh was pressed up between his. She started rubbing it slowly against his crotch. “Awfully close quarters down here, innit?” Rose’s tongue slipped out to moisten her lower lip. It gleamed, temptingly close.
He didn’t realize his hands were tightening on her wrists until her little intake of breath. It was not a complaint. A small shift in her position made her breasts nuzzle against his chest. “Rose, you’re tired.” The Doctor’s voice was hoarse; he controlled it with an effort of will. “Go to bed.”
“Thanks, I will. Come with? You’ve been under the console for hours,” she pouted.
Was Cassandra in there? Impossible. “Got too many repairs,” he tried to joke. “Go on without me.”
“Oh, all right,” she said. He let go of her wrists, only to have her lean in and kiss him warmly on the mouth. “Your loss.” Rose then squirmed out from under the console. He heard her leave the control room.
“’And if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, love the one you’re with. Do it, do it, do it!’”
“Oh, shut up,” the Doctor said. Was he going to have to have a talk with Rose? He thought they’d settled this by now. He so did not want to go there, or even near there.
He went back to his repairs in a dour mood. He almost felt like his old self again.
Rose was not a morning person. She ran a brush over her hair, threw on her robe, and went in search of tea with her eyes still puffy from sleep. The Doctor was already in the TARDIS kitchen, making tea.
“I love you,” Rose said impulsively.
The Doctor nearly leapt out of his skin. “Rose!” he squeaked.
“I need a cuppa something terrible.” She yawned her way past him. “Have we got any left of those scones with the berries in that were sort of like currants and sort of like blueberries?”
“In the back.” He cleared his throat, “Rose, about last night, we need to talk.”
Rose straightened up with a scone in her hand, licking indigo juice off her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. You know, my mum is just the one to help us out.” Jackie would know, or could find out, all about any family of Mickey that ought to be told he wasn’t coming back.
The Doctor stared at her and put a hand to his face.
“What? Have I got jam on my face?”
The Doctor’s face stung with anticipation of a Jackie Tyler slap. Glimpsing future probabilities had a downside. “I think we should keep it between us,” he said firmly.
“But she’s going to notice. It’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”
“She didn’t notice last time,” he said, remembering the kiss with Cassandra in Rose’s body. “Of course, you weren’t yourself.”
Rose stared at him blankly.
“Here, who’re you talking to?” Her lips didn’t move, but her eyes grew wide and round. That’s when the Doctor realized the voice came behind him. He turned around to see Rose in the doorway. Rose, unmistakably Rose, and unmistakably different from the one eating the scone. The new Rose was wearing a silky robe over a low cut nightgown.
“I think I was talking to you,” the Doctor said to the new Rose. “We seem to have a problem.”
“Bloody right, we do, who…. Oh… oh! Doctor, you’re not… we haven’t… oh, this is bad. I’m from your future.”
“That’s… me? She’s me? Going to be me?” Rose stared at her counterpart’s pretty night clothes and felt shabby. She could make an effort instead of schlepping around in pyjamas. She could also do with a nightgown like that in her future. It looked like real silk. “Here, is that real silk?”
“The real thing,” future-Rose said smugly.
“Before you two start swapping fashion stories, could we talk about the major bifurcation of the time stream that could destroy us, this TARDIS, and maybe the Universe?” the Doctor interjected.
Rose shut up and waited.
“Well, that was it, really.” He asked future-Rose, “Do you know when it happened? When you were split off from your time?”
“I’d just finished washing up, and I came looking for you…” she glanced sidelong at Rose, blushing slightly. “You told me to go to bed, so I did, and went to sleep. So, I suppose it happened sometime between when we had supper and when I spoke to you in the control room. Call it an hour, it wasn’t more.”
“That narrows it down,” the Doctor said. “Now, the important thing to remember, is that the two of you should not touch.”
“All right, but I’m perishin’ here. Any chance of one of those scones?”
“This is the last one, sorry. Tea? Doctor, pass her my cup, I haven’t had any.”
“Wouldn’t matter if you had, I think we can drink from the same cup,” the other laughed.
“Here, if you’re from the future, how come you don’t remember this from … I mean, I know it’s happening now, shouldn’t you know it had happened then?”
“Uh… Doctor?”
“Tense formation is the first thing to fail in these cases. The TARDIS helps normalize paradox inspired time flux in situations like these. It must have happened when we came back from the parallel universe,” the Doctor surmised.
“Oh, you just dropped off Mickey? All I remember is us going back to Mum’s,” her future self told them. Suddenly she blushed. “What you must have… I’m so sorry, Doctor. I…” She looked about to cry. The Doctor hastily offered her the cup of tea, but she wrapped her robe so it shut in front. “I’d better get dressed. I’ll have tea later, after Rose is done. I’ll even wash up.” Future Rose turned from the door and her hurrying steps quickly faded.
“I’ve got to talk with her. Rose, don’t touch each other. Remember how it was with the baby Rose!” He ran out, too.
Rose felt something gooey in her hand. She’d squashed the scone and dyed her fingers blue.
She might as well have tea, but she couldn’t help wishing it was her in the sexy nightgown being chased by the Doctor. She’d had dreams like that.
Other-Rose fled, but with a destination in mind. She was headed towards the wardrobe room. The Doctor wondered where she had spent the night. Obviously, she had not gone to Rose’s room. He gave her a minute to collect herself, paused at the entrance and called, “Oi! You all right, then?”
He heard a distinct sniffle. “Yes, Doctor.”
There was a time to avoid things, and then there was a time to plunge straight in. The Doctor found other-Rose sitting on a vanity bench, wadding her pretty robe up in her fists. “I think you’ll find that wrinkles,” he pointed out helpfully.
She got to her feet, took a step forward, and stared at the Doctor tragically. She didn’t look significantly older than now-Rose.
“I’ll send you back. We’ll fix this,” he promised recklessly. He was afraid she was about to cry. He didn’t know what he’d do if she did.
“Of course, we will.” She smiled at him bravely. “He… you’ll, be trying, from our end. The future end.”
“I’m worried sick, I’m sure. You find something to wear. I’ll wait for you outside. As long as you and Rose stay apart, we can keep this from getting worse.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She undid her robe and tossed it over the bench. The gown underneath was a lacy confection of peach silk and blond lace. The Doctor retreated hastily before he could gauge the translucency of the material.
At the door he turned his back, but kept listening alertly. He thought this was Rose, but just in case he was wrong, he didn’t want a look-a-like running around loose on the TARDIS. “Once you’re dressed, we’ll get some breakfast in you. Can’t have you keeling over on me. You humans, always eating, always sleeping, it’s a wonder you can accomplish anything in the time left over.”
“We make time for the important things, Doctor.” She came out wearing a v-neck bottle-green jumper, jeans, and trainers. The jumper looked familiar. It had been his, but it took him a minute to recognize its different fit on her. “You don’t mind me wearing this, do you? I didn’t want to spend a lot of time looking for clothes.”
“No, no. No no no. It doesn’t matter. Why shouldn’t you? I don’t want it, and if I did, there are a few more about. Breakfast! Yes. Eggs. Grapefruit. Melon… uh…buttered crumpet… we’ll find something. I think Rose got the last scone.” He turned away.
She plucked at his sleeve. “Doctor, I’m Rose, too. Please, don’t you know me?”
The Doctor turned back, unable to withstand the plea in her voice. “Don’t worry, Rose. It will all work out.”
“I know why you’re suspicious of me. When I woke up this morning, and you hadn’t come to bed, I knew something was wrong. None of my things were in your room. And last night, you were so cold… it’s different between you and me, not long after this.”
He cut her off quickly. “Rose, you can’t tell me about the future.”
“Then I’ll tell you about the past.” She took a step closer, sliding her hands up his chest. “You love me, and I love you. That’s as true this moment as it was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Right now you believe that it would be bad for me to have a sexual relationship with you, and that it will hurt enough when I leave without going to that level of intimacy.” She stroked his cheek. “It’s killing me to touch you, and feel you pull back.”
The Doctor caught her wrist. Her lips formed a slight pout, waiting for a kiss that did not come. He had kissed her, once; he had regenerated with the taste of her in his mouth. It was impossible for him to forget it now.
She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I guess it will all happen the way it’s supposed to.”
“Right. Right.” The Doctor cleared his throat and fought back temptation. “Breakfast. You’ll feel better with something hot inside you.” He headed to the kitchen, damning the propensity of human languages to form sexual metaphors. No wonder his people had created a new language based on mathematical principles. There was nothing dodgy about 1+1 = 2.
After an hour conscientiously stuck in her room to protect the integrity of all time and space, Rose couldn’t take it any more. She peeked into the control room. “Is it all right for me to be about, Doctor?”
The other Rose gave her a helpless little smile and shoulder shrug. She stood a little behind the Doctor as he worked at the console keyboard. His worried expression cleared a little as he looked up and saw her head sticking out of the doorway.
“Just stay over by the door, Rose. You-Rose. That Rose,” he pointed at her.
“I think of myself as ‘now’ Rose,” Rose offered, trying to lighten things up. Was it weird to be jealous of herself? Because she was, a little. Future-Rose couldn’t be much older, but she had an assurance now-Rose envied. She seemed at home on the TARDIS in a way now-Rose hadn’t achieved. She even had the nerve to wear one of the Doctor’s cast-off jumpers. Rose fiercely fancied the look for herself, but if she took it up, it would look like copying. Well, why shouldn’t she copy herself?
“Don’t call me later-Rose,” the other said. “It sounds like I’m tardy all the time. Or dead.”
“’Future-Rose,’” Rose said, and future-Rose nodded acceptance.
“Ah,” said the Doctor, “Ah-hah!” He glanced up, smiling, to see both Roses looking at him hopefully. “Not that hah, sorry. Do something for me, would you both? Walk slowly towards each other. Very slowly. And whatever you do, when I say ‘stop’, stop.”
Now and Future shrugged, and approached each other carefully. “Stay away, walk towards, whatever you say, Doctor,” Rose grumbled. “If we blow up the universe it’s your fault this time.”
“As the fixed now approaches the future flux point, the wave function should display a catastrophe curve and allow me to calculate the differential displacement,” the Doctor explained.
“Did you get any of that?” Rose asked. “It’s Greek to me.”
“It’s Rassilonian calculus,” future-Rose told her. “As we approach each other in space, we are also approaching each other in time. He’s measuring the potential energies as we get closer to the Blinovitch limit.”
“You actually understand him? How much older are you than me?” Rose was awed. She really sounded like she knew what she was talking about.
“I’m better with the concepts than I am with the math. Imagine a string. I’m further along the string than you are, but I’ve jumped back and created a knot, and the knot is sliding up towards the point where I left the future. When the knot is gone, there will only be one of us. But if the knot stayed, I’d be stuck in a time loop, going around and around.”
“That would be you… but what about me?”
“That could get ugly,” the Doctor said, staring oddly at future-Rose. “You could join her and there would be another Rose. It would be like adding beads. Or think of it this way: it would be like holding a mirror in front of another mirror, so that they reflect each other infinitely. Actually, the energy potential would build up until a paradox was inevitable. Stop! Right there, stop.” The two Roses were within arm’s length of each other. The Doctor came and stood between them, doing arcane things with the sonic screwdriver. “These readings aren’t right. It’s like the energy has already been discharged.”
“What!” Rose was indignant. “I was just understanding all this, and you got it wrong?”
“Both of you touch me,” he said, staring intently at the tiny display. Rose touched his shoulder, the other mirrored her pose.
Abruptly, the TARDIS shook so hard that the floor seemed to fall from under their feet. They all went down in a heap of tangled limbs. The Doctor flung out his arms to push them apart, but he was too late to prevent contact.
Not that it mattered. Nothing happened.
“Doctor? Are there going to be Reapers?” Rose sat up and touched the Doctor’s arm as he sat scowling in thought.
“Not in the TARDIS. That wasn’t a discharge of raw vortex energy, just ordinary turbulence. So: either one of you isn’t Rose, or the two of you are so different…no, that’s not possible. You couldn’t be from a parallel universe. There should only be one me, even if my world is gone.”
Future-Rose looked unhappy. “I don’t know what I can say that isn’t saying too much about the future.”
Rose looked at her reflection. “Maybe you’re not me,” she said, meaning to sound tough and challenging. But when she met Future-Rose’s eyes, the sense of kinship between them was so strong that she couldn’t hold on to her suspicion.
Future-Rose looked struck to the heart. “It is me, Doctor. Can’t you read my mind, or something?”
The Doctor screwed up his face and ran his fingers through his hair, standing it on end. “I’ll think on it. It’s risky: I might see something in your mind I shouldn’t know. I’ll have to prepare myself. Meanwhile… you two don’t have to worry about destroying the universe every time you bump into each other. That’s good news, right?” He smiled brightly. “Right! I’ll get on with it, then.” He went to the far side of the console and started noisily prying up floor panels, muttering to himself.
“Sooooo…” Rose had never been one for talking to herself. “Is he still like that?”
“You mean madly sexy?”
“Uh… uh… “ Rose blushed under Future-Rose’s knowing gaze.
“He is. Too bad I can’t tell you a few things I wish there had been someone to tell me…” Future-Rose laughed, “I can’t believe I’m starting to sound like him. Is that happening already with you? There’s nothing like seeing yourself from the outside, you know? Come on, let’s make tea.”
“Tea is good,” Rose admitted. She followed Future-Rose to the kitchen.
It wasn’t a Japanese tea ceremony, but there was a ritual quality to their tea-making. They both liked it made the same way.
It was Rose’s TARDIS, so she got out the cups. Future-Rose watched her. “Remember climbing below him on the ladder in that hospital? Such a tight little bum. I wanted to reach up and pinch it under those pinstripes.”
Rose blinked. “I know. I was there. I mean, yes. Gawd, he’s got the deepest brown eyes, and such long lashes. He never holds still long enough for me to get a good look, drives me crazy.”
“I still miss those blue eyes of his. When he smiled, they lit up from inside, but when he was angry—“
“They were like laser beams and you felt like they were drilling a hole in you.”
“Oh, yeah, you got that right.” Future-Rose wriggled.
“Do I do that?”
“What?”
“That… that squirming thing.”
“I’d rAHther think of it as a shimmy, thanks much.”
An hour later they were cozily ensconced in Rose’s room, dishing on Reinette. “After what Cassandra said, after Sarah Jane, I felt like a real slob. She was so strong and smart and beautiful. I couldn’t help hating her a little, but I liked her, too.”
“Am I really so chavvy?”
The two Roses peered at each other. “Am I wearing as much mascara as you are?” “I hope not. What about the eyeliner?” “And the blush. The mirror fools you, doesn’t it? My skin looks a thousand years old with all that foundation. What do I do, trowel it on?”
“Maybe we should make up each other? It’s not like it’s going to affect the future, right?”
“Right. First, a good washing-up.” Teeth caught at full lower lips. “Backs?” “I’ve always wanted to know the truth.” “Right. I’ll critique your backside if you’ll critique mine. Just be honest.” “It is me, after all.”
Suddenly it was all very funny, and in a fit of giggles they stripped off their clothes and jumped into the shower. They argued over the relative merits of shampoo, and a loofah duel ensued. The loser had to turn her back on the winner.
“So what’s the verdict?” “You need to use exfoliant, but it’s not bad. All that running for your life has put on a bit of muscle.” She smacked herself on the bum.
“That’s a little rude,” Rose pretended to sniff haughtily.
Future-Rose put her chin on Rose’s shoulder. “Not as rude as some things you get up to in the shower.”
Assembling a crushing come-back, Rose looked her counterpart in the eye. The large, hazel eye, now mascara free. She was fascinated. This was how her eyes looked, deep, with flecks of gold. No mirror or photograph had ever shown her the detail. They turned to face each other full on. Those were her breasts. She reached out, closing her eyes as her fingertips touched wet skin.
“I remember how lonely I used to be. The Doctor kept making fun of me for falling over eight hours out of every twenty-four.” Future-Rose’s breath caught.
Rose made up her mind about how far she wanted to go. This was her own flesh she touched, she could feel it, and feel her hands on her body both familiar and unexpected. “Always calling me an ape. What do monkeys do in the monkey cage, yeah? I thought everyone knew that,” she giggled. They both laughed, squirming wet girl flesh closer together, hands diving between each other’s thighs to find a more insistent wetness.
“I know it’s been a long time for you. Nothing, since that last time with Mickey.” She pulled Rose in for a kiss.
Rose had never been very tempted by other girls, except for some experimentation at slumber parties. But this mouth was her mouth, with nothing off about the taste. The kiss melded them together. They clung, weak-kneed, tongues tangled, almost knotted. Fingers knew the right rhythm, but the neurons driving the touch were separate from the neurons feeling it, a tiny difference that was meltingly delicious.
They staggered out of the shower and toweled each other dry, exchanging caresses.
“I keep feeling I should feel bad about this,” Future-Rose murmured.
“Why should I ever feel bad about doing myself? I don’t want to get all… repressed, or something.”
“Inhibited? Me? It would never happen.” They laughed and jumped onto the bed together.
“I think the Doctor wishes I were a little more inhibited. He was jealous of Jack, wasn’t he?” Rose grabbed herself by the arm. “Did you ever find out about Jack? He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Future-Rose stared back, open-mouthed. Then she hugged Rose close, and whispered, “Don’t worry about Jack. He’s alive. He’s just on a separate path, you know?”
“The Doctor figures it out later?”
She nodded. “Just act surprised. Rose… mind if I stay here tonight?”
“Better with two,” Rose laughed. “Sure you can. Where were you last night?”
The other looked sly, her tongue playing with her teeth. But they were also Rose’s, and that was Rose’s sly look. “You were in his bed. You and him… me and him…” Her heart thumped.
The other nodded, not smiling now. “Yes. It hurts not to be with him now. You understand. I remember all those nights in this bed, alone, thinking things… wondering things… about the Doctor.”
“And now you know.” Rose didn’t know whether to throw her out or beg her to tell all.
“It starts with something you already know, if you’d let yourself remember. The first time he kissed you, the singing and the golden light. He didn’t have to kiss you to save you. He wanted to, because he knew he’d die saving you. He wanted to kiss you.” Future-Rose’s eyes spilled tears. “This isn’t the future, it’s the past. You have a right to remember.”
The turbulence had emanated from the TARDIS. It was no random occurrence that had thrown the two Roses together. Now the Doctor’s sense that something was wrong on the TARDIS nudged the back of his brain. Where had those two girls gone?
The kitchen seemed the most likely spot, but something drew him to Rose’s room. The TARDIS lights were brighter here as if some subtle energy emanation was feeding the circuits. He put his hand to Rose’s door, and froze in place. The surface of the door glowed golden under his fingertips. A low cry came muffled to his ears, and he shoved the door open. No lock on the TARDIS could be held against his entry, and he strode in. The air was thick, banded with currents of golden light. Rose lay, legs spread wide, with Rose lying between them eagerly giving her oral pleasure.
The energies warmed as they threaded through his space. He was oh so very welcome here. Supine Rose tugged at prostrate Rose’s hair. “He’s come to join in,” she smiled dizzily.
Rose rolled over onto her side. “Room for another, Doctor,” she said, and licked cat-dainty at Rose’s clitoris.
He took a deep breath that filled him with the all the promise of young female human in heat. Judging by their glazed expressions they’d been at this for a while.
“You’re not shocked, are you?” The first Rose pushed up on her hands and stared at him in vague distress.
“No,” he choked out.
“Why should he be? He’s already thought of this for himself, only he’d like to trade places with me and put that clever tongue to work.” The second Rose got up from the bed and went to him, taking hold of his tie. He knew this was not his Rose, but the stranger Rose, so bold and sure of herself, who had kissed him the night before. She started to pull him in for a kiss.
He let her, but at the last moment, he put his hands on the contact points of her skull. He had to know who she was before this went any further. Power thundered through his mind and ripped cruelly at his synapses. He had been here before, and knew what to do.
The Doctor kissed Rose, and time stood still.
Bad Wolf.
I see everything that was, is, and shall be.
And it’s driven you mad.
You want to take the power from me. I can’t let you do it. I WON’T LET YOU DO IT!
This was that one instant, where he had kissed her, for her own sake and to drink the power of the Vortex from her soul. Power corrupts, and here was Rose, that one part of her that didn’t want to release the power of a god. She had killed him to keep the power, and then gone looking for a way to find him again among the tangled time lines.
Why did you do that to her?
I had to bind myself to her, and her to you… I don’t want to lose you twice.
Her mind’s eye opened onto the path to the future. A black sphere, a rippling white field—
The Doctor rejected the vision.
You have to give up the power, Rose, or it will destroy you. Look at my Rose, so strong and vibrant. She doesn’t need this power. You can’t be afraid of the future, Rose.
But she needs you. You’re the one who’s afraid of the future. If she and I were one, you’d never lose your Rose. Never.
You’re not my Rose. You’d eat her away from the inside out and there would only be a memory of Rose, no more real than a photograph. Let it go. Let it go.
It was an instant and Eternity, and for Eternity there was silence above a black void. Bad Wolf Rose consented, and her presence began to fade.
Will you… she… retain any of this?
No, and yes. Not memories… but when she thinks of your last incarnation, she feels guilty, because you died for her. When she lies alone at night and plays with her body, she dreams about how your hands would feel on her, imagines the taste of your mouth and your cock filling her. She’ll burn for you and yearn for you and feel guilty for using you in her fantasies.
And you, Doctor, you’ll wonder if this ever happened. Because it didn’t, but you know it could have, and it might have. Every time you look at her, you’ll wonder.
The Doctor found himself outside Rose’s door. He took out his sonic screwdriver and took a reading on the local circuits, but the abnormal energy surge was gone. He accessed the TARDIS and let her show him Rose’s peaceful sleep patterns. He hoped she was having sweeter dreams than he ever did.
In a single instant that held Eternity, an entity lingered in the taste of the Doctor’s kiss. With all her power, she could not deny his will. He would save the mortal Rose Tyler, and burn for it. But in that brief apotheosis, the Bad Wolf had done many things.
There was still Jack. Hers, body and soul, forever.
The End
Author's Note: I was originally thinking this would have much more and more explicit sex, but Jinni had already done that part so well.
Author: LilacFree (as Soubi_Smalls)
Summary: The Doctor has a hard enough time resisting one Rose. Can he control himself with two? Or is this really Rose?
Rating: NC-17, though not by much
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: Het, Femslash
Original Story is 'Rose, Squared', by Jinni
Rose, Squared (Parallel Lines Meet At Infinity)
The TARDIS was tired. She’d had a right banging up, falling through a crack in space-time into a parallel universe. The ride back had been painfully jolting. Rose sympathized. She patted the console, told the Doctor she was going to turn in for the night, and retired to her room. She had a quick shower, without lingering over her beauty regimen, and went to bed.
Mickey was gone. She was too numb to cry any more. It was like he was dead. She taken him for granted, and he’d left her to stay in another universe. Rose loved her mum, but Jackie helped defined Rose by Rose’s rebellion. Mickey had been her touchstone. She came back from her adventures to Mickey, who knew her as a whole person, not a child. She measured the changes in herself through his eyes.
She’d held onto him, when she should have let go. She had clung to the skin of the tiny little world he represented. Now he’d let go, and she spun off into space. Rose fell into an uneasy sleep.
”I bring life,” she said, and the dead lived. Pete Tyler, Mickey’s grandmother, Jack, Gwyneth; she protected the Doctor. He came to her, his blue eyes tender, and kissed her, for love and to take her sacrifice onto him.
She couldn’t bear it. She would NOT bear it.
The Doctor’s tastes in music continually evolved. His regenerations were only one influence in this process.
The TARDIS liked mellow sounds, and less processed sounds: acoustic instruments and vocals. His second incarnation had played a recorder to it, but he couldn’t work on the components and play a musical instrument simultaneously. Instead, he played recordings. Presently, the TARDIS was listening to a live-recorded Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young concert. “’You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girl,’” the Doctor sang along. Some of the indicator lights seemed to be pulsing along to the guitar riffs.
“’Keeps me searching for a heart of gold, and I’m getting old’… bah, song lyrics.”
“You’re only as old as you feel, Doctor,” Rose said playfully.
The Doctor lifted his head too quickly and banged it on the overhead. “Rose, I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“Are you all right? That’s a new head, you don’t want to go losing it yet. Budge up and let me have a look.”
She squirmed down into the crawl space with him. “I’m fine, really,” he gabbled, trying to push back to make room. Having Rose so close was far from unpleasant, but that was the trouble. She was delightfully resilient in places he couldn’t help but notice when they were rubbed up against him. He couldn’t just leave, or he’d increase the contact between them. “It was just a bump.”
Her fingers sifted through his hair. “Oh, that explains it.” She grinned impudently at him.
“Explains what?” he asked a little nervously.
“All the gel in your hair cushioned the blow, pretty boy,” she laughed and rumpled his hair wildly.
“Rose, stop that!” he protested, more amused than annoyed. He had to grab her wrists and pull her hands out of his hair. She resisted, and he had to wrestle her a little to pin her hands by her head.
Her thigh was pressed up between his. She started rubbing it slowly against his crotch. “Awfully close quarters down here, innit?” Rose’s tongue slipped out to moisten her lower lip. It gleamed, temptingly close.
He didn’t realize his hands were tightening on her wrists until her little intake of breath. It was not a complaint. A small shift in her position made her breasts nuzzle against his chest. “Rose, you’re tired.” The Doctor’s voice was hoarse; he controlled it with an effort of will. “Go to bed.”
“Thanks, I will. Come with? You’ve been under the console for hours,” she pouted.
Was Cassandra in there? Impossible. “Got too many repairs,” he tried to joke. “Go on without me.”
“Oh, all right,” she said. He let go of her wrists, only to have her lean in and kiss him warmly on the mouth. “Your loss.” Rose then squirmed out from under the console. He heard her leave the control room.
“’And if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, love the one you’re with. Do it, do it, do it!’”
“Oh, shut up,” the Doctor said. Was he going to have to have a talk with Rose? He thought they’d settled this by now. He so did not want to go there, or even near there.
He went back to his repairs in a dour mood. He almost felt like his old self again.
Rose was not a morning person. She ran a brush over her hair, threw on her robe, and went in search of tea with her eyes still puffy from sleep. The Doctor was already in the TARDIS kitchen, making tea.
“I love you,” Rose said impulsively.
The Doctor nearly leapt out of his skin. “Rose!” he squeaked.
“I need a cuppa something terrible.” She yawned her way past him. “Have we got any left of those scones with the berries in that were sort of like currants and sort of like blueberries?”
“In the back.” He cleared his throat, “Rose, about last night, we need to talk.”
Rose straightened up with a scone in her hand, licking indigo juice off her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. You know, my mum is just the one to help us out.” Jackie would know, or could find out, all about any family of Mickey that ought to be told he wasn’t coming back.
The Doctor stared at her and put a hand to his face.
“What? Have I got jam on my face?”
The Doctor’s face stung with anticipation of a Jackie Tyler slap. Glimpsing future probabilities had a downside. “I think we should keep it between us,” he said firmly.
“But she’s going to notice. It’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”
“She didn’t notice last time,” he said, remembering the kiss with Cassandra in Rose’s body. “Of course, you weren’t yourself.”
Rose stared at him blankly.
“Here, who’re you talking to?” Her lips didn’t move, but her eyes grew wide and round. That’s when the Doctor realized the voice came behind him. He turned around to see Rose in the doorway. Rose, unmistakably Rose, and unmistakably different from the one eating the scone. The new Rose was wearing a silky robe over a low cut nightgown.
“I think I was talking to you,” the Doctor said to the new Rose. “We seem to have a problem.”
“Bloody right, we do, who…. Oh… oh! Doctor, you’re not… we haven’t… oh, this is bad. I’m from your future.”
“That’s… me? She’s me? Going to be me?” Rose stared at her counterpart’s pretty night clothes and felt shabby. She could make an effort instead of schlepping around in pyjamas. She could also do with a nightgown like that in her future. It looked like real silk. “Here, is that real silk?”
“The real thing,” future-Rose said smugly.
“Before you two start swapping fashion stories, could we talk about the major bifurcation of the time stream that could destroy us, this TARDIS, and maybe the Universe?” the Doctor interjected.
Rose shut up and waited.
“Well, that was it, really.” He asked future-Rose, “Do you know when it happened? When you were split off from your time?”
“I’d just finished washing up, and I came looking for you…” she glanced sidelong at Rose, blushing slightly. “You told me to go to bed, so I did, and went to sleep. So, I suppose it happened sometime between when we had supper and when I spoke to you in the control room. Call it an hour, it wasn’t more.”
“That narrows it down,” the Doctor said. “Now, the important thing to remember, is that the two of you should not touch.”
“All right, but I’m perishin’ here. Any chance of one of those scones?”
“This is the last one, sorry. Tea? Doctor, pass her my cup, I haven’t had any.”
“Wouldn’t matter if you had, I think we can drink from the same cup,” the other laughed.
“Here, if you’re from the future, how come you don’t remember this from … I mean, I know it’s happening now, shouldn’t you know it had happened then?”
“Uh… Doctor?”
“Tense formation is the first thing to fail in these cases. The TARDIS helps normalize paradox inspired time flux in situations like these. It must have happened when we came back from the parallel universe,” the Doctor surmised.
“Oh, you just dropped off Mickey? All I remember is us going back to Mum’s,” her future self told them. Suddenly she blushed. “What you must have… I’m so sorry, Doctor. I…” She looked about to cry. The Doctor hastily offered her the cup of tea, but she wrapped her robe so it shut in front. “I’d better get dressed. I’ll have tea later, after Rose is done. I’ll even wash up.” Future Rose turned from the door and her hurrying steps quickly faded.
“I’ve got to talk with her. Rose, don’t touch each other. Remember how it was with the baby Rose!” He ran out, too.
Rose felt something gooey in her hand. She’d squashed the scone and dyed her fingers blue.
She might as well have tea, but she couldn’t help wishing it was her in the sexy nightgown being chased by the Doctor. She’d had dreams like that.
Other-Rose fled, but with a destination in mind. She was headed towards the wardrobe room. The Doctor wondered where she had spent the night. Obviously, she had not gone to Rose’s room. He gave her a minute to collect herself, paused at the entrance and called, “Oi! You all right, then?”
He heard a distinct sniffle. “Yes, Doctor.”
There was a time to avoid things, and then there was a time to plunge straight in. The Doctor found other-Rose sitting on a vanity bench, wadding her pretty robe up in her fists. “I think you’ll find that wrinkles,” he pointed out helpfully.
She got to her feet, took a step forward, and stared at the Doctor tragically. She didn’t look significantly older than now-Rose.
“I’ll send you back. We’ll fix this,” he promised recklessly. He was afraid she was about to cry. He didn’t know what he’d do if she did.
“Of course, we will.” She smiled at him bravely. “He… you’ll, be trying, from our end. The future end.”
“I’m worried sick, I’m sure. You find something to wear. I’ll wait for you outside. As long as you and Rose stay apart, we can keep this from getting worse.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She undid her robe and tossed it over the bench. The gown underneath was a lacy confection of peach silk and blond lace. The Doctor retreated hastily before he could gauge the translucency of the material.
At the door he turned his back, but kept listening alertly. He thought this was Rose, but just in case he was wrong, he didn’t want a look-a-like running around loose on the TARDIS. “Once you’re dressed, we’ll get some breakfast in you. Can’t have you keeling over on me. You humans, always eating, always sleeping, it’s a wonder you can accomplish anything in the time left over.”
“We make time for the important things, Doctor.” She came out wearing a v-neck bottle-green jumper, jeans, and trainers. The jumper looked familiar. It had been his, but it took him a minute to recognize its different fit on her. “You don’t mind me wearing this, do you? I didn’t want to spend a lot of time looking for clothes.”
“No, no. No no no. It doesn’t matter. Why shouldn’t you? I don’t want it, and if I did, there are a few more about. Breakfast! Yes. Eggs. Grapefruit. Melon… uh…buttered crumpet… we’ll find something. I think Rose got the last scone.” He turned away.
She plucked at his sleeve. “Doctor, I’m Rose, too. Please, don’t you know me?”
The Doctor turned back, unable to withstand the plea in her voice. “Don’t worry, Rose. It will all work out.”
“I know why you’re suspicious of me. When I woke up this morning, and you hadn’t come to bed, I knew something was wrong. None of my things were in your room. And last night, you were so cold… it’s different between you and me, not long after this.”
He cut her off quickly. “Rose, you can’t tell me about the future.”
“Then I’ll tell you about the past.” She took a step closer, sliding her hands up his chest. “You love me, and I love you. That’s as true this moment as it was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Right now you believe that it would be bad for me to have a sexual relationship with you, and that it will hurt enough when I leave without going to that level of intimacy.” She stroked his cheek. “It’s killing me to touch you, and feel you pull back.”
The Doctor caught her wrist. Her lips formed a slight pout, waiting for a kiss that did not come. He had kissed her, once; he had regenerated with the taste of her in his mouth. It was impossible for him to forget it now.
She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I guess it will all happen the way it’s supposed to.”
“Right. Right.” The Doctor cleared his throat and fought back temptation. “Breakfast. You’ll feel better with something hot inside you.” He headed to the kitchen, damning the propensity of human languages to form sexual metaphors. No wonder his people had created a new language based on mathematical principles. There was nothing dodgy about 1+1 = 2.
After an hour conscientiously stuck in her room to protect the integrity of all time and space, Rose couldn’t take it any more. She peeked into the control room. “Is it all right for me to be about, Doctor?”
The other Rose gave her a helpless little smile and shoulder shrug. She stood a little behind the Doctor as he worked at the console keyboard. His worried expression cleared a little as he looked up and saw her head sticking out of the doorway.
“Just stay over by the door, Rose. You-Rose. That Rose,” he pointed at her.
“I think of myself as ‘now’ Rose,” Rose offered, trying to lighten things up. Was it weird to be jealous of herself? Because she was, a little. Future-Rose couldn’t be much older, but she had an assurance now-Rose envied. She seemed at home on the TARDIS in a way now-Rose hadn’t achieved. She even had the nerve to wear one of the Doctor’s cast-off jumpers. Rose fiercely fancied the look for herself, but if she took it up, it would look like copying. Well, why shouldn’t she copy herself?
“Don’t call me later-Rose,” the other said. “It sounds like I’m tardy all the time. Or dead.”
“’Future-Rose,’” Rose said, and future-Rose nodded acceptance.
“Ah,” said the Doctor, “Ah-hah!” He glanced up, smiling, to see both Roses looking at him hopefully. “Not that hah, sorry. Do something for me, would you both? Walk slowly towards each other. Very slowly. And whatever you do, when I say ‘stop’, stop.”
Now and Future shrugged, and approached each other carefully. “Stay away, walk towards, whatever you say, Doctor,” Rose grumbled. “If we blow up the universe it’s your fault this time.”
“As the fixed now approaches the future flux point, the wave function should display a catastrophe curve and allow me to calculate the differential displacement,” the Doctor explained.
“Did you get any of that?” Rose asked. “It’s Greek to me.”
“It’s Rassilonian calculus,” future-Rose told her. “As we approach each other in space, we are also approaching each other in time. He’s measuring the potential energies as we get closer to the Blinovitch limit.”
“You actually understand him? How much older are you than me?” Rose was awed. She really sounded like she knew what she was talking about.
“I’m better with the concepts than I am with the math. Imagine a string. I’m further along the string than you are, but I’ve jumped back and created a knot, and the knot is sliding up towards the point where I left the future. When the knot is gone, there will only be one of us. But if the knot stayed, I’d be stuck in a time loop, going around and around.”
“That would be you… but what about me?”
“That could get ugly,” the Doctor said, staring oddly at future-Rose. “You could join her and there would be another Rose. It would be like adding beads. Or think of it this way: it would be like holding a mirror in front of another mirror, so that they reflect each other infinitely. Actually, the energy potential would build up until a paradox was inevitable. Stop! Right there, stop.” The two Roses were within arm’s length of each other. The Doctor came and stood between them, doing arcane things with the sonic screwdriver. “These readings aren’t right. It’s like the energy has already been discharged.”
“What!” Rose was indignant. “I was just understanding all this, and you got it wrong?”
“Both of you touch me,” he said, staring intently at the tiny display. Rose touched his shoulder, the other mirrored her pose.
Abruptly, the TARDIS shook so hard that the floor seemed to fall from under their feet. They all went down in a heap of tangled limbs. The Doctor flung out his arms to push them apart, but he was too late to prevent contact.
Not that it mattered. Nothing happened.
“Doctor? Are there going to be Reapers?” Rose sat up and touched the Doctor’s arm as he sat scowling in thought.
“Not in the TARDIS. That wasn’t a discharge of raw vortex energy, just ordinary turbulence. So: either one of you isn’t Rose, or the two of you are so different…no, that’s not possible. You couldn’t be from a parallel universe. There should only be one me, even if my world is gone.”
Future-Rose looked unhappy. “I don’t know what I can say that isn’t saying too much about the future.”
Rose looked at her reflection. “Maybe you’re not me,” she said, meaning to sound tough and challenging. But when she met Future-Rose’s eyes, the sense of kinship between them was so strong that she couldn’t hold on to her suspicion.
Future-Rose looked struck to the heart. “It is me, Doctor. Can’t you read my mind, or something?”
The Doctor screwed up his face and ran his fingers through his hair, standing it on end. “I’ll think on it. It’s risky: I might see something in your mind I shouldn’t know. I’ll have to prepare myself. Meanwhile… you two don’t have to worry about destroying the universe every time you bump into each other. That’s good news, right?” He smiled brightly. “Right! I’ll get on with it, then.” He went to the far side of the console and started noisily prying up floor panels, muttering to himself.
“Sooooo…” Rose had never been one for talking to herself. “Is he still like that?”
“You mean madly sexy?”
“Uh… uh… “ Rose blushed under Future-Rose’s knowing gaze.
“He is. Too bad I can’t tell you a few things I wish there had been someone to tell me…” Future-Rose laughed, “I can’t believe I’m starting to sound like him. Is that happening already with you? There’s nothing like seeing yourself from the outside, you know? Come on, let’s make tea.”
“Tea is good,” Rose admitted. She followed Future-Rose to the kitchen.
It wasn’t a Japanese tea ceremony, but there was a ritual quality to their tea-making. They both liked it made the same way.
It was Rose’s TARDIS, so she got out the cups. Future-Rose watched her. “Remember climbing below him on the ladder in that hospital? Such a tight little bum. I wanted to reach up and pinch it under those pinstripes.”
Rose blinked. “I know. I was there. I mean, yes. Gawd, he’s got the deepest brown eyes, and such long lashes. He never holds still long enough for me to get a good look, drives me crazy.”
“I still miss those blue eyes of his. When he smiled, they lit up from inside, but when he was angry—“
“They were like laser beams and you felt like they were drilling a hole in you.”
“Oh, yeah, you got that right.” Future-Rose wriggled.
“Do I do that?”
“What?”
“That… that squirming thing.”
“I’d rAHther think of it as a shimmy, thanks much.”
An hour later they were cozily ensconced in Rose’s room, dishing on Reinette. “After what Cassandra said, after Sarah Jane, I felt like a real slob. She was so strong and smart and beautiful. I couldn’t help hating her a little, but I liked her, too.”
“Am I really so chavvy?”
The two Roses peered at each other. “Am I wearing as much mascara as you are?” “I hope not. What about the eyeliner?” “And the blush. The mirror fools you, doesn’t it? My skin looks a thousand years old with all that foundation. What do I do, trowel it on?”
“Maybe we should make up each other? It’s not like it’s going to affect the future, right?”
“Right. First, a good washing-up.” Teeth caught at full lower lips. “Backs?” “I’ve always wanted to know the truth.” “Right. I’ll critique your backside if you’ll critique mine. Just be honest.” “It is me, after all.”
Suddenly it was all very funny, and in a fit of giggles they stripped off their clothes and jumped into the shower. They argued over the relative merits of shampoo, and a loofah duel ensued. The loser had to turn her back on the winner.
“So what’s the verdict?” “You need to use exfoliant, but it’s not bad. All that running for your life has put on a bit of muscle.” She smacked herself on the bum.
“That’s a little rude,” Rose pretended to sniff haughtily.
Future-Rose put her chin on Rose’s shoulder. “Not as rude as some things you get up to in the shower.”
Assembling a crushing come-back, Rose looked her counterpart in the eye. The large, hazel eye, now mascara free. She was fascinated. This was how her eyes looked, deep, with flecks of gold. No mirror or photograph had ever shown her the detail. They turned to face each other full on. Those were her breasts. She reached out, closing her eyes as her fingertips touched wet skin.
“I remember how lonely I used to be. The Doctor kept making fun of me for falling over eight hours out of every twenty-four.” Future-Rose’s breath caught.
Rose made up her mind about how far she wanted to go. This was her own flesh she touched, she could feel it, and feel her hands on her body both familiar and unexpected. “Always calling me an ape. What do monkeys do in the monkey cage, yeah? I thought everyone knew that,” she giggled. They both laughed, squirming wet girl flesh closer together, hands diving between each other’s thighs to find a more insistent wetness.
“I know it’s been a long time for you. Nothing, since that last time with Mickey.” She pulled Rose in for a kiss.
Rose had never been very tempted by other girls, except for some experimentation at slumber parties. But this mouth was her mouth, with nothing off about the taste. The kiss melded them together. They clung, weak-kneed, tongues tangled, almost knotted. Fingers knew the right rhythm, but the neurons driving the touch were separate from the neurons feeling it, a tiny difference that was meltingly delicious.
They staggered out of the shower and toweled each other dry, exchanging caresses.
“I keep feeling I should feel bad about this,” Future-Rose murmured.
“Why should I ever feel bad about doing myself? I don’t want to get all… repressed, or something.”
“Inhibited? Me? It would never happen.” They laughed and jumped onto the bed together.
“I think the Doctor wishes I were a little more inhibited. He was jealous of Jack, wasn’t he?” Rose grabbed herself by the arm. “Did you ever find out about Jack? He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Future-Rose stared back, open-mouthed. Then she hugged Rose close, and whispered, “Don’t worry about Jack. He’s alive. He’s just on a separate path, you know?”
“The Doctor figures it out later?”
She nodded. “Just act surprised. Rose… mind if I stay here tonight?”
“Better with two,” Rose laughed. “Sure you can. Where were you last night?”
The other looked sly, her tongue playing with her teeth. But they were also Rose’s, and that was Rose’s sly look. “You were in his bed. You and him… me and him…” Her heart thumped.
The other nodded, not smiling now. “Yes. It hurts not to be with him now. You understand. I remember all those nights in this bed, alone, thinking things… wondering things… about the Doctor.”
“And now you know.” Rose didn’t know whether to throw her out or beg her to tell all.
“It starts with something you already know, if you’d let yourself remember. The first time he kissed you, the singing and the golden light. He didn’t have to kiss you to save you. He wanted to, because he knew he’d die saving you. He wanted to kiss you.” Future-Rose’s eyes spilled tears. “This isn’t the future, it’s the past. You have a right to remember.”
The turbulence had emanated from the TARDIS. It was no random occurrence that had thrown the two Roses together. Now the Doctor’s sense that something was wrong on the TARDIS nudged the back of his brain. Where had those two girls gone?
The kitchen seemed the most likely spot, but something drew him to Rose’s room. The TARDIS lights were brighter here as if some subtle energy emanation was feeding the circuits. He put his hand to Rose’s door, and froze in place. The surface of the door glowed golden under his fingertips. A low cry came muffled to his ears, and he shoved the door open. No lock on the TARDIS could be held against his entry, and he strode in. The air was thick, banded with currents of golden light. Rose lay, legs spread wide, with Rose lying between them eagerly giving her oral pleasure.
The energies warmed as they threaded through his space. He was oh so very welcome here. Supine Rose tugged at prostrate Rose’s hair. “He’s come to join in,” she smiled dizzily.
Rose rolled over onto her side. “Room for another, Doctor,” she said, and licked cat-dainty at Rose’s clitoris.
He took a deep breath that filled him with the all the promise of young female human in heat. Judging by their glazed expressions they’d been at this for a while.
“You’re not shocked, are you?” The first Rose pushed up on her hands and stared at him in vague distress.
“No,” he choked out.
“Why should he be? He’s already thought of this for himself, only he’d like to trade places with me and put that clever tongue to work.” The second Rose got up from the bed and went to him, taking hold of his tie. He knew this was not his Rose, but the stranger Rose, so bold and sure of herself, who had kissed him the night before. She started to pull him in for a kiss.
He let her, but at the last moment, he put his hands on the contact points of her skull. He had to know who she was before this went any further. Power thundered through his mind and ripped cruelly at his synapses. He had been here before, and knew what to do.
The Doctor kissed Rose, and time stood still.
Bad Wolf.
I see everything that was, is, and shall be.
And it’s driven you mad.
You want to take the power from me. I can’t let you do it. I WON’T LET YOU DO IT!
This was that one instant, where he had kissed her, for her own sake and to drink the power of the Vortex from her soul. Power corrupts, and here was Rose, that one part of her that didn’t want to release the power of a god. She had killed him to keep the power, and then gone looking for a way to find him again among the tangled time lines.
Why did you do that to her?
I had to bind myself to her, and her to you… I don’t want to lose you twice.
Her mind’s eye opened onto the path to the future. A black sphere, a rippling white field—
The Doctor rejected the vision.
You have to give up the power, Rose, or it will destroy you. Look at my Rose, so strong and vibrant. She doesn’t need this power. You can’t be afraid of the future, Rose.
But she needs you. You’re the one who’s afraid of the future. If she and I were one, you’d never lose your Rose. Never.
You’re not my Rose. You’d eat her away from the inside out and there would only be a memory of Rose, no more real than a photograph. Let it go. Let it go.
It was an instant and Eternity, and for Eternity there was silence above a black void. Bad Wolf Rose consented, and her presence began to fade.
Will you… she… retain any of this?
No, and yes. Not memories… but when she thinks of your last incarnation, she feels guilty, because you died for her. When she lies alone at night and plays with her body, she dreams about how your hands would feel on her, imagines the taste of your mouth and your cock filling her. She’ll burn for you and yearn for you and feel guilty for using you in her fantasies.
And you, Doctor, you’ll wonder if this ever happened. Because it didn’t, but you know it could have, and it might have. Every time you look at her, you’ll wonder.
The Doctor found himself outside Rose’s door. He took out his sonic screwdriver and took a reading on the local circuits, but the abnormal energy surge was gone. He accessed the TARDIS and let her show him Rose’s peaceful sleep patterns. He hoped she was having sweeter dreams than he ever did.
In a single instant that held Eternity, an entity lingered in the taste of the Doctor’s kiss. With all her power, she could not deny his will. He would save the mortal Rose Tyler, and burn for it. But in that brief apotheosis, the Bad Wolf had done many things.
There was still Jack. Hers, body and soul, forever.
The End
Author's Note: I was originally thinking this would have much more and more explicit sex, but Jinni had already done that part so well.
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Author's Note: I was originally thinking this would have much more and more explicit sex, but Jinni had already done that part so well.
And, um, *blush* - thank you. Glad you liked.
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Very much enjoyed it.
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