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(no subject)

Who: The Doctor and Rose (Closed for now)
When: Back Dated to late Night 1.
Where: The Kitchen

The Doctor's been finding ways to keep himself busy. He's checked in on a few people, chased some people off, made sure Joss was back on his appropriate, Doctor approved diet and even filed a bunch of papers because he had nothing better to do and he likes to stay busy.

After he gets tired of playing physician for the time being he gets up from his usual chair and bid Wen Qing a quick 'see you later' if she's around and heads off to get more tea now that he's run out. He wonders about how things are with Rose and Jack and whether or not she's warmed up to the fact that they're just from different universes entirely. He shouldn't get his hopes up-it could take awhile. Still, he's glad they have Jack because few people know Rose Tyler better than Jack Harkness or himself.

He waltzes into the kitchen like nothing's wrong and moves to rinse his tea mug out and start on making another. He's not quite expecting to Rose but then again it is a train. They can only avoid each other for so long before they'd have to cross paths.

"Oh, hullo." He greets, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "All settled in then?"

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Looking back, talking to Jack alone had been the right thing to do. She never would’ve given the Doctor’s explanation the time of day, even provided with evidence, because of who he is. She’s been burned before--the Doctor was often a telepath’s favorite target when it came to her--but having the theory come up independently had given her the clarity that she so desperately needed.

If Donna taking a wrong turn can spawn a universe, it isn’t a leap that the Doctor living would do the same. It makes perfect sense, though it hurts her heart to think that somewhere out there is a Rose Tyler that managed to do things right.

She really owes him an apology. Probably an explanation as well. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

She turns in for the night, hoping that sleep will bring her answers or peace or something. Instead, she lies in her bunk, staring up at nothing, going over her actions to find what mistake she’d made to set her on this path.

Eventually she gives up on both sleep and figuring out where she went wrong and goes to walk the train in her pajamas, an oversized t-shirt and sleep pants, both in uninterrupted black. She finds herself in the kitchen, which isn’t surprising considering that was where she usually ended up when she couldn’t sleep on the TARDIS. What is surprising is that the Doctor is also there.

She looks up at him, eyes wide, and shifts from foot to foot, looking like she might bolt.

Right, finding him was the goal. She just didn’t expect it to happen quite so soon. She could’ve done with another week or so, just to have some time to prepare.

Their timing has always been horrible.

She sounds subdued. “...hi. Yeah.”

There's a bit of awkward tension settling in the air. He looks her over again to be sure. His fingers twitch over the handle of his tea mug. Never in all of his life did he actually think he'd get to see her again and seeing her gives him a strong urge to just pull her close and hug her like he maybe should have done all those years ago but he was being kind-she deserved better than a life with him-with the actual him.

He's also not entirely sure how he should feel about this. Angry that someone's tearing whole in reality? That's a given but it's hard to be angry when he sees her face-even if she's not smiling or looking at him with those eyes. He misses those looks. Most of all though, he really misses holding her hand.

"So Jack's showed you around then." He offers, moving to grab the kettle. "Erm... Tea?"

Rose nods, staring rather intently at a spot on the wall behind him. “He did. Though it’s hard to get lost when you’re stuck on a train.”

She peeks at him before letting her gaze slide to the ground. It’s weird. This all feels familiar and yet it’s not. He’s different, obviously. It’s the same for her, though perhaps less visibly so. Their current oddly-shaped mode of transport/home is something out of a fantasy nerd’s dream. It’s like living in a funhouse mirror.

“Yes.” A pause, like she’s just remembering that there’s such a thing as manners. “Please.”

Confrontation she can do. Perhaps too easily, as she’s shown earlier. Now that her aim is reconciliation, though, she doesn’t know where to start. There was a time when she used to be good at diplomacy. Had been considered one of Torchwood’s best, in fact. She’s not that person any more. She’s never wished so desperately that she still was.

He watches her a moment, quietly agreeing that it'd be hard to get lost on the train. Even if someone couldn't find something, all they'd need to do is keep walking and they'll run into it eventually. He gives her a small smile when she accepts his offer for tea and quickly sets about making it up as he remembers her liking it, moving about the kitchen to grab the milk and sugar.

"So you... must have questions." He offers, dropping the sugar into her tea and then his own. He might be one of the best negotiators in the universe but things are a little different with Rose-especially an alternate Rose. Who, for all he knows, doesn't take her coffee with milk and sugar and never did. He'd love to be able to hug her but now's not the time. Besides, she's not quite the Rose he knew and he's not Quite the Doctor she knew. Even though he feels that familiar tug at his hearts when he sees her face the truth it that technically, they're strangers again.

"Anything I can clear up?" He holds the mug of tea out to her.

Questions? She has many. How long has it been? How many regenerations? Is he happy? Has he been alone? How was that sentence going to end? And perhaps most curiously: what happened to her counterpart? From the way the Doctor and Jack had spoken, it’s obvious that she doesn’t die but also that she isn’t with the Doctor anymore. She had worked so long and so hard to beat impossible odds just to return to his side; she can’t imagine any Rose giving that up voluntarily. But she swallows them all down. Answers would only serve to satisfy her curiosity and truly she has no right to them.

She takes the proffered mug with a soft “Thank you” and stares at it until she realizes that yes, this is how she takes her tea. At least when she traveled with the Doctor. It seems his Rose does the same.

“You remembered.” The words are soft and surprised and wondering. She wants to know why he would hold onto such a useless piece of trivia, but she’s afraid that if she asks, all of those other questions will come rushing out. What she says instead is “I’m sorry.”

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" It might have been over two hundred years since he'd last seen Rose, but he still remembers everything about her. "Don't need to be sorry, Rose. I'm the one that wasn't there when I was needed most so I can understand." Just another thing to add to his list of failures. Sure another Doctor in other universes could have helped but they didn't and he-or his counter part should have done more. Being dead was hardly an excuse when it comes to the Doctor.

He takes a sip of his own tea and just takes in her appearance-she doesn't look a day older than he'd last seen her and so it breaks his hearts to see how much she's changed in a relatively short amount of time.

"Met anyone interesting yet? Aside from Jack and myself, of course."

Rose just sighs and shakes her head. Knowing her tea order isn’t exactly useful, especially when he didn’t expect to see her again, but arguing the point would just be a waste of time. Though maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised. For all the running that he does from his past, the Doctor’s always been oddly sentimental. The wardrobe room was full of mementos and she knows for a fact that there were still bedrooms of past travelers and their possessions in the TARDIS; her own had been the second to last to go.

She should probably make eye contact at some point, right? Her gaze gets to the bowtie when she gives it up as a bad job. God, why is he always so bloody tall?

“You’re not him.” She holds up a hand to forestall any protests. “Yeah, I know you’re the Doctor, but you’re not that Doctor. Because you’re alive and you’re you. And I don’t blame him for what he did--” She even understands why. “--or what happened after. So please stop trying to take responsibility for him.” Not that she expects him to listen, but it still has to be said.

She’d been mostly concentrating on reconnaissance, trying to suss out the purpose of her abduction, collecting the names and faces of her new teammates, not on making friends. Acquiring assets, maybe, if she’s being generous. She can’t say that anyone really stood out, though there was that one kid... “A flirt.”

It's a little hard to just accept that there was nothing he could have done but that's not how alternate universes work and he should know that better than most. He just nods in agreement. "Well, no. I'm not. But I am the Doctor and knowing that any version of me wasn't around to help is... well it isn't a nice thought. Not every version of me would've helped though-probably. I met a version of Sarah Jane and myself that were... well.. criminals." He admits before taking a sip of tea.

His jaw might tighten just a little but he doesn't seem to react much other than that. Jack flirts with everyone but he's mostly come to expect that-other than maybe a slightly passive aggressive comment if he gets jealous-which is rare.

"A flirt?" He ask, eyebrow raising. Not that he could blame anyone for flirting with Rose-she is quite pretty. But then, he may be a little biased. "Well, at least you're making friends."

Edited 2020-05-26 07:26 (UTC)

Well, that went over with less arguing than expected, though Rose can't tell if he's just humoring her. “Time machine or not, you can’t be everywhere all the time. We’ve gotta learn to stand on our own.”

She's pretty sure that the Doctor’s always been a criminal. The theft of the TARDIS comes to mind, followed by acts of illegal parking, trespassing, and fraud. Really, the list goes on and on. With the differing schemes of legality across the universe he’s never really seemed bothered, so she supposes that his other self must’ve been some sort of villain. It’s hard to imagine; her brain keeps putting out images of Star Trek’s mirror universe. “What, did an evil goatee give him away?”

She doesn’t know why exactly she mentioned Inigo; it’s not like the Doctor has any reason to be jealous. Maybe she’s trying to sound out more aspects of this new-to-her Doctor’s personality. Still, it’s a bit gratifying that there’s some reaction, no matter how slight. Not that anything involving that jawline can be considered slight.

She takes a drink of her tea to hide her smile, only to be pleasantly surprised by the taste. Huh. She’d forgotten how enjoyable tea could be. She’d mainly downed military-grade coffee to keep herself going; tea just wasn’t as effective as a caffeine fix.

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