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misscamFic commentary for Song For Rose.
As per request. Doctor Who fandom, Nine/Rose, vaguely mature rating.
Welcome to this DVD-style commentary of "Song For Rose". This is your host and author, Camilla Sandman. We hope you find this at least slightly entertaining.
I went to so many websites looking up musical terms to use for this fic. I usually picked the musical term before I wrote the section for it. Some of the words I knew, some I didn't. Both nocturne and dirge have been in fic titles of mine. I'm quite fond of those words. I tend to form love affairs with certain words and you can seem them popping up in my stories now and then.
II
Unused lyrics I originally looked at for "East of the Sun, West of the Moon", those. I also went a bit back and forth on what to call the first section. Don't think I found the perfect one, but fugue did work.
Time sings.
Present tense! I'm not sure why exactly, but I write a lot more present tense for Doctor Who fics, even long ones such as this, where I'd normally opt for past tense with any other fandom. Might be related to the time theme of Doctor Who, I suppose, making me prefer present tense.
A hum at first, but it's growing, a crescendo of noise spinning inside her. It sings and she is the song and the words are in her. She tries to speak them, tries to make the words inside her pass through her lips.
And establishing the theme of the story right away here. I deliberatly use a few musical terms in the text of the story as well to reinforce it.
"I can see everything. All that is. All that was. All that ever could be."
Lines from the episode. I'm really dropping right into the action and trusting the reader to realise what's going on rather than set up a lot of exposition right off. Exposition bores me.
The words sound so less spoken in her voice. It's not enough to explain how she feels, capture the whole. Yet still he understands, she can see it burning in his eyes.
Her Doctor.
Echoing the line she spoke in the ep...
"That's what I see -- all the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?" he says and she thinks she nods. It's hard to remember her body when everything else is fighting for space.
"... my head...."
Her head, oh her head. Her head is the universe, a thousand universes stretching out through time. She can see them, see stars being born and stars die, planets crumble to dust, oceans dry out, civilizations and empires rise and fall, species evolving until death, children to parents to grandparents to dust. Everything dies and she's mourning it.
First bit of the fic I wrote, that paragraph. I'm quite fascinated by the idea of all you could see in time. And when I wrote it, I hadn't quite settled on how the story would be yet. It was just a bit I wrote down for later use.
And the dirge is rising, and even as she feels her own tears, it's beautiful too. The TARDIS is singing her name.
Rose.
You're so beautiful.
I'm killing you.
I don't care. I don't.
I do.
This is meant to be the TARDIS and her talking, an idea I've used in other fanfics as well. I love the TARDIS as a character. I try to give her a voice of her own. In this case, literally.
"Come here," the Doctor says, hands outstretched. She can see him, truly see him, everything he's been and will be, all the darkness in his burn. He's so beautiful. It's all so beautiful and despairing and everything and it's killing her.
"... it's killing me..."
And the song changes.
The first hint that what is about to happen is slightly off. I didn't write the fic to make the ending a surprise, but I did make it utterly obvious either.
Wasn't quite happy with the Nick Cave lyrics here either. I love the song, but I didn't think it fitted completely. Couldn't find any better though, and it does work. Really, a fic is never perfect, one just runs out of time and will to keep fiddling.
There was this singing...
This is a line spoken in the ep and what sparked the whole idea, really, and the musical theme running through. It's not really said in the episode what the singing was, so this is what I thought it might've been. In a much shippier universe than the BBC's, anyhoo.
"What happened?" she asks. She's in the TARDIS and the Doctor is there, staring intently at the TARDIS console. He's saying something she knows isn't true about singing the Daleks away and she tries to remember and all she hears is the echoes of music.
I paraphrased a bit here, mainly because people who'd seen the ep would know the lines and they weren't too important. I quote a few other lines people would know and I didn't want to make it boring by repeating what the episode tells ya.
"I don't remember anything else..."
"Rose Tyler," he says, and she knows that tone. "I was gonna take you to so many places. Barcelona. Not the city Barcelona, the planet Barcelona. You'd love it. Fantastic place. They've got dogs with no noses. Imagine how many times a day you tell that joke and it's still funny."
This is where I admit I never quite got that joke... Until Saz explained it to me, anyway. Me=slow.
He laughs and she echoes it faintly because it's such a delightful sound and she could feel it against her skin a whole lifetime.
I am fond of using sound as felt. There's a line later on too about feeling the sound of his heartbeats on her lips. Attempt to be a little different in how I describe things, I suppose.
And he falls.
First change from how it went in the ep. I debated a bit just where I would start changing it - obviously before the regeneration, but whether from when she wakes up in the TARDIS or just at his last words to her I wasn't sure. In the end, I decided on having a bit of the scene to make it clear what scene it was and perhaps have the readers expect what was coming - but be a little bit suprised.
She's too slow to catch him, but moments later, she's by his side, lifting his head. He's burning, his skin a furnace to touch. There's light in his skin, and for a moment, she can almost feel it hum. And then it's gone, as if it never was.
In the episode, you see it as well, the echo of the time vortex.
"Doctor!"
He doesn't stir and she struggles to haul his limp body up enough to get on her feet and carry him as a sack of alien know-it-all. By the time she reaches the end of the console room, she's run out of curses.
Alien know-it-all, my attempt to be witty. Which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't.
She doesn't know where his bedroom is, if he has any, but hers is there and the TARDIS seems to be in a helpful mood, keeping it close. She struggles to the bed, falling into it with him locked to her, reflecting that this was certainly not the way she's imagined having an alien in her bed for the first time.
Based on the fact that I'm not actually sure if he sleeps or not. Hum.
She arranges him as well she can, finding an extra pillow to put under his head, taking off his shoes, removing the jacket. Without it, he seems almost vulnerable, as if it's an armor and now there's only skin.
An observation of mine really, that. I thought he looked more vunerable in "Father's Day" when he took his jacket off. Makes the shoulder seem less broad or something. Or maybe it's just me...
"Now what?" she says to herself. The TARDIS is in flight and she can't control it, land it or do much of anything. Jack's not here....
Someone at GAFF was pointing out that it's a common mistake in Doctor Who fic to have a companion able to fly the TARDIS, so I made sure I didn't do that one.
Jack's dead. The Doctor wouldn't leave him and the realisation feels like a million little shards of ice, all inside her. Jack's dead and the Doctor's sick and she can't lose him too. Not him. Anything but him.
'Even Jack,' she thinks and that hurts, too.
In my take on the Jack/Rose/Doctor dance, I think both Rose and the Doctor, if faced with it, would choose the other. They both like and enjoy Jack, but they both share something between them beyond what Jack offers. This is just my interpretation, though.
She doesn't cry. Instead she finds cold water, a bucket and a cloth, brews some tea, digs into her bag to find the painkillers she brought just in case. Maybe they'll be of some use.
She's not going to let him die. She will never let him as long as there is breath in her to do something, she knows.
Which of course echoes what she's already done - looking into the TARDIS to be able to save him - and foreshadowing what she will do.
His skin is still burning as she soaks the cloth in cold water and wipes it across his forehead. She can feel the sweat under her fingertips and he really is an illusion of human. His hand feels human in hers, the accent sounds human and Northern to her ears, and if she ever kisses him, she's sure his lips will feel human too. Only when he looks at her, does she sometimes see something beyond human in the brightness of his eyes. He knows too much to be human.
Slight foreshadowing of a kiss to come. And of course, commenting on his delicious accent.
"You never told me what you're a Doctor of," she says and feels the softness of his hair against her palm as she strokes it softly. "Bringing trouble? Running for your life? Banter under fire?"
I'm wondering this myself. Must read more Doctor Who Canon....
The thought amuses her and she laughs softly, only laughter doesn't bring tears like this or deep gasping breaths. She's crying and she can't stop.
"Please don't die," she whispers and rests her head against his chest. "Just don't die like everything else."
Echoing her line about "everything dies" in the episode.
He's got two heartbeats, she realises, and they're beating a slow tune of hope. As long as she keeps listening, he'll be alive.
She can almost believe that.
Lame line to end the section on, but I had some lamer one previous and in the end, just gave up my search for the perfect one.
"Rose?"
She stirs to meet his alien gaze, realising she's fallen asleep with her head on his chest and her neck is aching. She's clutching the cloth with one and and his sweater with the other and he's awake and he's not dead.
Sign something isn't right #1 - just recovering like that, none too many worries.
"Oh," she breathes and embraces him and after a moment, she can feel his hands on her back, warm and comforting.
"It's all right, Rose," he says. "Just a bit of time vortex hangover."
Doctor trying to be funny in his reassurances, another thing he's done a few times.
"What happened?"
She eases back slightly to see him smile, that all too human silly grin.
"We won."
"How?"
"Cheating," he declares brightly and she thinks he can hide all the darkness in the word behind that brightness. Sometimes, she wonders if he's doing it for himself or for her. "Didn't think I'd get away with it."
This is also a bit of commentary from me on the slight deus ex machina solution of "Parting of the Ways". Also, sign something isn't right #2 - the Doctor didn't think he'd get away with it and he didn't, really.
"Jack didn't, did he?"
The brightness is gone and there's only the dark. "No," he says, and she rests her head against his chest again and feels his hands stroke her back softly, as if drawing the grief out of her with his skin. She has no idea how he can carry her grief too, along with everything else.
Makes two of us...
"You saved a lot of lives, Rose Tyler," he whispers, and his heartbeats are like thunder against her cheek.
"Jack still died."
"Someone always does."
Universal truth of Doctor Who. It's very, very rare not for someone to die during an episode. Which makes his reaction in "The Doctor Dances" so much stronger.
She closes her eyes, and their heartbeats seem to merge, one slow beating rhythm, so very slow until all seems still and he's just holding her forever.
Implied: He's doing his time slowing trick here.
The TARDIS is humming and she's watching it, the green light pulsating like a heartbeat. Heart of the TARDIS, time itself. The unstoppable force even the Doctor doesn't master fully, even if he'll never admit it to her. Too much bloke's pride, she reckons.
A bloke is still a bloke even when he's alien, in Rose's thinking in this fic. A way to relate him more to what she's used to, really.
Blokes always have too much pride, she thinks and remembers Jack.
She doesn't look up as she hears steps and the Doctor comes to sit down next to her on the floor. He smells of a shower, and maybe even of alien aftershave.
I assume even a Gallifreyan Time Lord takes some kind of cleaning shower/bath/scrub now and then. If I'm wrong, slap me.
"I looked into the TARDIS," she says, staring at the console. She remembers trying to open it, remembers the song, but not the melody or the words.
"Yep."
"I don't remember..."
"You're not made to remember it, Rose. Be glad."
Vague hint that the Doctor might remember more than her #1
She looks up him and there's nothing but sincerity in his face. The jacket is back on, she notices, familiar and worn and him. All back to normal, almost.
"You took it away. You absorbed it from me."
"Yep. Nearly killed me. Should've killed me." He frowns slightly and she punches him in the shoulder. "Ow!"
Sign something isn't right #3 - he admits it should've killed him - as it did.
"How dare you! How dare you almost die! How dare you do that to me!"
"How dare you do it to me!" he counters and she wants to slap him, hit him, hug him, kiss him, hold him until there is no more time and he's safe. Even if she knows he would never be happy like that. He breathes danger and adventure and is dancing with death. All she can do is offer her hand and hope her feet is up to it.
Using the dancing metaphore here a bit, just like the show has done. Also fits with the music theme, of course.
So she just laughs, and after a moment, he joins her. It's a laugh fused with despair, but it's still a laugh.
"Look at the pair of us," she says and he grins.
"Not half bad, all things considered."
I hope I got the slang right there... Not easy when it's not your native language, let me tell you. You pick up on the formal bits, but the slang is hard to learn unless you live there. I lived in Australia two years, that might've helped. I think I get British slang easier than American, anyway.
"Jack liked us, at least."
"Jack likes everyone. He's the friendly type."
"I noticed," she says, tapping her lips with a finger, remembering a kiss goodbye. After a heartbeat, the Doctor mimics the gesture. That too, he's shared with her. It scares her she's forgotten how it felt before him, before she shared his life and he shared hers.
"You know Jack. He'd ever pass up a chance to kiss humans or aliens."
Or indeed shag them.
"I know. So unfair. I've travelled with you longer and I still haven't kissed an alien."
He smiles, ever so faintly, as if knowing something she doesn't. "Plenty of time still."
Course, she has, but doesn't know it. He does, though. Don't think he would tell her that bit, though I wrote another fanfic where he did.
"Yeah."
Time still for her. Time still for the Doctor. Not for Jack. Not for so many others she's seen die. And with all she's seen, the Doctor has seen it a thousand times more, perhaps a million. How can he carry it?
I must really wonder at that, since I'm repeating it. Then again, I'm constantly amazed at how much humans can carry too.
"Come on," he says, and takes her hand. "Let's go somewhere."
They move on.
This having double meaning, obviously. Moving on as in going somewhere else, and moving on as in terms of having had a loss and living on.
Kings of Convenience is a Norwegian band which I adore immensly. I've used their lyrics in a fic once before, and I also considered using lyrics from another song of theirs in this fic, but ended up not.
The sun is red, is the first thing she notices. Bright red, like a dying fire, more embers than flames. It's still warm, its heat travelling through the cold of space to stroke her skin. No blistering hot, but summer definitely. The planet is green and lush, long grass moving in the wind and in the distance, rustling leaves of a forest are making a symphony.
Music theme again. And the description is based a lot on how a midnight sun looks, which I saw a lot of growing up. It does look a lot more red and you can actually look directly at it during the night.
"The planet of Vekramon," the Doctor says behind her, slipping into his guide mode so easily. "Populated by a human related spcies known as the Vekraan. Generally considered the best-looking aliens of all time. You can kiss one of them."
Ah, alien names. I admit I sometimes cheat and pick Norwegian words and just twist them, though at least once I've picked something that if you knew what it meant, did add meaning to the story (though you didn't need to know to read the story). This time, however - utterly made up and means nada.
"You brought me here for an alien kiss?"
"You were the one going on about never getting one."
"I was not going on about it," she protests, but is unable not to return his grin. "How good-looking?"
"Nothing to me, of course," he says, folding his arms.
Nine does seem quite comfortable joking about his appearance a bit, but he does also have a lovely little ego. Hard to say what's real and what's joking sometimes.
"Of course," she echoes, even as tempted she is to voice disagreement just to see his cute wounded look.
"Glad you agree. So, Rose Tyler, want to meet the alien kissing candidates?"
'I've already met one,' she thinks and feels his hand in hers.
Obvious implication: him. But you already knew that, even if I don't write it explicitly in the text. Readers usually are quite smart.
"Yep."
It's funny how there's always a London, even on alien planets. Hurried people, traffic problems, ugly buildings scattered around, even the religious nutter on the corner. Except the nutter is trying to convert her into the Right Way of the KraKra here, and the people are aliens. Not fully alien, though. She can see the human related the Doctor mentioned in the shape of them, but the skin seems slicker and the eyes are definitely bigger. There's think layers of hair across their shoulders, almost like fur.
"Kra" is actually what a crow "says" in Norwegian (like a pig says oink, and so on). I'm not too fond of religious nutters, can you tell?
The look of the aliens was slightly inspired by furries, I admit.
She's almost afraid to ask the Doctor what humans 'danced' with to evolve this species.
Repeating the dance metaphore from the series again.
"They only build out of stone or trees," the Doctor says as they walk. "They're very skilled. Consider it a sacrilege to have metal in anything but its pure form in nature. They get over it soon enough when they realise the profit they're sitting on. Planet's got plenty rare animals. They strip it bare, making it inhospital in the process."
Funny how religious conviction bend to money conviction, innit? Humans are very good at redefining principles to serve ourselves, and I figured this would stick in the human-descendents.
"Cheerful."
"You're telling me. They had the best bananas in known time."
Another series reference - bananas. I love bananas.
"You and bananas," she says, shaking her head slightly, just as she feels another London familiarity. "Oi!"
Spinning around, she just has time to see the pick-pocket set off with her phone and without thinking, she sets after. Alien or no, no one steals from Rose Tyler, especially priceless alien-tampered phones with no bill. She has no doubt the Doctor could find her another, but it's something of her old life still and she's already given up too much.
Slightly convinient plot device to get them seperated. Sometimes, one just has to make the best of plot devices. Serves as a reinforcement that some things are truly universal, too.
Luckily, she has longer legs and manages to reach the little brat just as he - she? - turns a corner. Confronted with the aspect of being caught, the thief tosses the phone in one direction, bolting in the other. Rose doesn't bother pursue. Picking up the phone, she turns to return to the Doctor, only to find a large alien in her path.
"Trouble?" he asks, flashing a smile. For a moment, he reminds her of Mickey, just slightly in the curves of his smile. An universe of differences, and it's still the familiarities she notices.
We have a tendency to look for those when abroad - I know I did -, and look for the differences most of the rest of the time so we can seperate the world into 'us' and 'them'. Slightly depressing, really.
"No," she says and smiles back. "No trouble."
"There is now."
Dun-dun-dun. Or not.
The Mickey-smile alien is named Veerkry, it turns out, and he doesn't take no for an answer. So she finds herself in his home, a mansion of wood clearly built to impress. She knows his kind. He probably drives the stone equivalant of a Ferrari. With the top down.
Implied: He likes to show off and possibly has a small penis.Or what passes for a penis in this breed of alien.
"Not many aliens come to Vekramon," Veerky says, patting her arm in a way she definitely doesn't like. She doesn't much like his gaze either.
Slimeball villain all around, this fella. I picked his name to echo the planet's name slightly, as if that is a naming habit there.
"Just passing through," she says brightly.
The Doctor has said that a few times, I reckon he rubs off on her.
"Thought so. You're here for the trade?"
"The trade...?"
He smiles. "Of course. You don't wish to speak about it. Perhaps you don't trust me. Let me show you what I have to offer and you soon will. I promise, my wares are far better than your usual contact can offer."
He's led her to a door, and opens it with an exaggerated gesture. "My treasure room."
Blah, blah, exposition, setting up the plot - hard to make too interesting, really. On first read it is neccessary, but on second, you tend to skip it.
Veerkry is not much of a religious alien, she realises and stares dumbly at the rows and rows of weapons. So many weapons, glimmering metal at her.
"Feel to inspect them," Veerkry goes on, and there's pride in his voice. "I'm devolping a new line you might be particulary interested in. Old alien artifact, but we're working on improving it. I haven't quite finished it yet, but..."
She looks into his hands for the weapon he's holding up and for a long time, she just looks. A Dalek's gun. The gun that killed Jack, killed so many, offered for sale so it can kill even more.
I don't really explain here how it might've ended up there, but if one Dalek fell from the sky, it's possible remains of others did as well, and have been found by the likes of Veerkry. And also a plot device so I could show Rose is still grieving Jack somewhat. I had originally planned he would return later in the story, but I'm not that fond of writing him, so I kept him out. Yes, I am mean.
No.
"Excuse me, Master," a Vekraan says somewhere behind her, "but there is an alien at the door. He's insisting his companion is here."
"That's my partner," she says quickly, knowing it can only be the Doctor. "He'll want to see your wares too."
"Of course, of course."
Veerkry's smile is all indulgement and for a moment, she almost wishes the gun worked so she could use it on him and see how much he smiled then. But only for a moment.
I think everyone has those moments of thinking about wanting to kill people at least, but what matters is not acting on it.
As it turns out, it is the Doctor at the door, standing with his arms behind his back, smiling as ever. But she knows if politeness would have failed, he would have ripped the house apart to reach her.
The Doctor does spring into action if he has to, but he does prefer the polite way. Very British, I think, and one of the reasons I do adore the show.
"Rose!" he says and there is just the tiniest hint of relief in his voice. "Got in a bit of troubling running into a Vekraan. Sorry for being late."
"That's okay," she replies in the same bright tone as him. "I was just telling Veerkry here you'd like to see the wares too."
The Doctor looks for a moment confused, and Veerkry is still eyeing her and the solution to both suddenly seem too tempting, too near. Just a step, and she flings her arms around the Doctor and kisses him enthusiastically on the lips, no hesitation. He goes still, if due to surprise or reluctance she doesn't know.
What I'm not sure I made clear enough here is of course she's kissing the Doctor to make sure Veerkry thinks she's taken and pass a message on to the Doctor. Though wanting to probably factored in as well.
"He deals in guns," she whispers against his lips, "and he's ogling me."
The Doctor kisses her back before she can say anything more, lips gentle even as they seem to drain all the breath out of her. Her alien kiss delivered, and it feels so human it makes her ache.
Refering back to a scene earlier where she thought he would feel human to kiss. Or the earlier bit was setting up this one, whichever way you prefer to look at it.
He pulls away finally, taking her hand as he does, and she knows he's about to do something very stupid. And she'll be right there, helping him.
"You always find trouble," he says, and his eyes are shining.
The sun is still red and burning when they climb back towards the TARDIS sometime later, but it's no longer the only one. Yellow are the fires of Veerkry's little home slash business slash gun storage as it burns and she can only imagine how much Veerkry is regretting taking trouble home.
Look at naughty me, skipping all the action. Mostly because it looks much better on TV than it is to read and also, it's not my favourite thing to write. You get enough of an idea to imagine it, anyway.
And somewhere in the fire, a Dalek arm is burning too. She didn't tell the Doctor of that one. She lost Jack to it, and so did he, but he also lost a whole planet. She doesn't want to remind him of that grief. Not when she can remind him he's alive and not alone instead.
And her she's slightly mirroring him taking her grief earlier in the story - she's trying to help ease his, even if she might've felt better sharing it and be comforted.
"That was an impressive boom," she says and he grins.
"So was that tackle of yours. And distracting Veerkry with that religious nutter of KraKra was almost so brilliant it's on my level."
Rule of TV - if you're showing the gun in the first act, it must be fired by the third. Cam's slightly modified rule - if you show a religious nutter, he must be launched at someone before the resolution.
"You're so full of it," she says and shakes her head. He gives her the wounded look again and he's so him her heart seems to sing with it. Alien or human, it doesn't matter. She's chosen him over everything else in her life and she would again in a heartbeat.
Refering back to the singing again, as well as pointing out just how much Rose has given up to travel with him, which is a good indication of her regard for him.
He turns slightly when he senses her slow down, worry in his eyes. "Rose?"
She takes his head in her hands, and he doesn't hinder her, just looks at her with those bright eyes.
"What are you doing?"
I was so torn about whether to use "whatcha doing" here or not. It didn't quite feel right, but neither did "what are". Too formal, I think. I generally write a bit more formally than native speakers do, I think. Just how I was taught the language.
"What you brought me here for. I'm kissing an alien," she says softly, standing on her toes as she brings her lips to his. He inhales once, sharply, but parts his lips willingly to let her feel the taste of him. Faintly, a memory stirs, but it's buried under a hundred new impressions. She traces his teeth with her tongue, feels the slight stubble of his cheek scrape against her skin. His hands have gone to her waist, locking her to him. She can hear the faint sound of leather against cloth, his jacket against her top.
I seem to favour her kissing him first in most scenarios I've written because I think he is a lot more guarded about it than she is. For one thing, she has a boyfriend when he meets her. And then there's a huge age difference and the little fact of being alient. But I also think he loves her deeply and I'm not too sure he would be able to resist if she really went for him.
"Now we're in trouble," he whispers, breath ragged.
Echoing a line from "Rose" there. That was the start of something, this is the start of something else.
"It's a good thing I have a taste for it, then," she replies, tilting her head slightly, feeling the wind catch her hair before he kisses her, the sun warm at her back.
She could get used to this.
Blah, bad line. I stuck it in there till I could think of something better, but never did.
The wall of the TARDIS is uneven against her back, one particular round-metal-something digging painfully into her back and she doesn't really care. What does a little uncomfort matter when there's pleasure and the Doctor is kissing her with the expertise of a 900-year-old Time Lord?
Uncomfort? Blah. Discomfort. Slightly cheesy line too, but then again, Rose is still young and we're all a little cheesy then.
She's gotten used to kissing him, the feel of his lips against hers, though in a slightly getting-used-to-have-won-the-lottory way. There is still the little moment of joyous rediscovery in moments like this and she hopes that never fades. The moment she gets too used to it, too used to this mad life in the TARDIS is probably the moment it comes to an abrupt halt. Superstition, perhaps, but she still clings on to her moments of awe.
Foreshadowing - she does get used to it and it comes to an abrupt halt.
And she's not quite willing to admit it's also because he seems to enjoy them so.
As seen in "The End of the World" particulary. It's just endearing in him, I think.
His hand is warm on her hip, lifting her top just ever so slightly, enough to brush against naked skin. She sighs into the kiss, and he pulls away slightly, his face in shadow. The light of the TARDIS is faint, almost as in night, even if the TARDIS doesn't really do day cycles.
To work with the nocturne heading, I had to make it nightish in feeling if not fact, at least.
"Rose Tyler," he says, and she slides her hands across his chest. "How come you never do what I tell ya?"
"Because I'm not a dog."
He grins. "I'd hope not. That'd be kinky."
It wouldn't surprise me if the Doctor is a little kinky, actually. Nine hundred years makes for a lot of time to find your inner kink.
"I did save you from the Cloxan," she points out, sliding her hands up this time, only under his sweater and across skin.
Another randomly made up name. Sounds like a toothpaste, actually.
"I could've solved that!" he protests, closing his eyes for a moment as she strokes a finger across his nipple.
"He was about to have your head off!"
"I always get my best ideas when in immidiate fatal danger."
Which is true enough... Though I suspect a lot of times the Doctor is more ahead of the game than he lets on.
"Uh-huh," she mutters, leaning forward to kiss his neck.
"Huh!" he insists, but seems to give up protesting as she trails kisses along his chest, the feel of his heartbeats strange on her lips. She can feel the echoes even as she continues down, pressing light kisses around his navel, feeling his hipbone under her fingers.
When she tilts her head up, he's looking at her with so much intensity it feels like his gaze slams into her. They've been playing kissing games for days now, but they haven't gone this far before.
Trademark Gaze of Intensity. Not too fond of "kissing games" there, but again, after a while, you just have to stop tinkering with a fic or go mad.
Probably partly because they've also been busy saving the Universe from hungry Cloxan feeders, she reflects, but it still feels like he's been waiting for something. Maybe he's still, despite all, waiting for her to tell him to stop, sure it will come.
She lifts her face back up to his, pressing one soft kiss against his lips, feeling his breath mingle with hers.
"Come with me," she says, and takes his hand.
And again, it's Rose who leads and pushes the next step. And also a line I seem to use over and over in various fanfics. Probably because it's in the series as well.
She watches his face as he sinks into her, her body slowly adjusting to the unfamiliar hardness. He doesn't close his eyes, doesn't say anything, just sighs, just once. It sounds like a surrender and she wonders how long he's been wanting to do this and denied himself.
I don't write explicit smut, mainly cos I don't do it well and I hate, hate a lot of euphenisms for vagina and penis. "Hardness" I can vaguely abide by.
Perhaps as long as she has.
He laces one hand in her hair as he moves slightly, a flicker of pain crossing his face.
"It's okay," she whispers, kissing his ear. "You won't hurt me."
"I will," he replies. "I'm sorry."
Alluding to the darker side of their relationship here, and the fact that he is a lot older than her. She is more naive than him, being the age she is and he would be more aware of everything that will cause her pain. And still he can't let her go - he might be more aware of the cost than her, but he is still keeping her there, taking her with.
She wants to protest, but he's moving again, and she's digging her fingernails into his back and the sounds she's making doesn't even sound like her. There's a white fire somewhere behind her eyelids and he's stroking it, stroking her skin, touching her until she is the firestorm and the roar is flying, flying, flying...
Orgasm, Cam euphemism writing way.
And then there's stillness in the moment of flight. She's alive, she's everything, she's Rose and her heartbeats can hold an infinity. It's almost too much, but then his hand is there, holding hers.
Again, hinting that he's doing his time slowing trick here.
Gasping, she feels his body greet her back as she slumps against him, her hand clutching his so hard it must hurt. But he's just smiling, and in her eyes she can see the mirror of herself loved and it's so bright it hurts.
And a little later, when her body finally coaxes him to come, his face is so beautiful she hopes her eyes are mirrors too.
My way of trying to avoid the fanfic cliche of simultaneous orgasm. Though of course being 900, who knows what the Doctor has picked up on. It would surely be something to write to Playboy about.
He's tracing patterns with his fingers across her skin, and she's tucked her head under his, listening to time passing through the TARDIS. It's almost like a lullaby and it's almost like night, darkness at the edges of her bed, one couple post-coital.
This is almost domestic.
"Don't even say it," he says and she smiles.
Yeah. Almost.
And she lets the lullaby drift her to sleep, thinking it almost familiar.
Sign something isn't right #4 - the song keeps repeating. The last bit also gets repeated near the end.
I haven't actually heard this song, I just nabbed the lyrics. I collect lyrics, should I ever have use of them.
It's becoming a familar scenario.
Using "familiar" to bridge between the two sections. I bridged some bits in this fic, but didn't bother with all, the lyrics and section headings tying it all together in the end anyway.
Running, she nearly crashes into tree and only a last minute yank from the Doctor's hand makes her turn right and avoid smacking right into it. Behind her, she can hear the water coming.
"Great idea!" she gasps. "Going to the beach on the day of a tsunami!"
"Wasn't meant to be a tsunami today!" he replies and if he says anything more, she can't hear it over the roar of water. Stronger and stronger it sounds, until everything else is drowned and the water slams into her with persistence.
It's going to be another long day at the job, she thinks.
I didn't do too many details of the tsunami because of the tsunami in Asia almost a year ago which killed a lot of people, including Norwegians. I didn't want to remind myself too much and was also trying to make this adventure light-hearted as opposed to the slightly angstier one earlier and the one to come.
"I hope there's someone to send this drycleaning bill too," the Doctor says, sounding displeased. The water has fallen back to the sea, but not without disorganising everything in its path and leaving Rose's hair as soaking wet as the Doctor's leather jacket. She's taking it with better grace with him, or perhaps only on the surface.
He does sometimes seem to be talking about utterly irrelevant things while his mind is racing on the relevant ones.
He's thinking and she can see steel in his eyes. Something's wrong and he intends to find it, fix it and get his jacket properly cleaned. And then maybe ravage her, or that might just be her having fantasies again.
Or a fanfic author having her way...
She sighs and wrings her hair, smelling the salt. There's still a faint trace of it on her lips too, from swallowing too much sea water while trying to float. She's decided not ask for another beach vacation for years.
"This not a natural occurance, then?" she asks. "Since you said it wasn't meant to be and your history is always perfect."
Reference to "The Long Game". And again, Rose picking up on something he's said and echoing it later.
"Not sure," he says and frowns, staring at the sea. "This lot shouldn't be advanced enough to tamper with creating earthquakes yet."
"Aliens? Slitheens again, maybe?"
He makes a face. "Hope not. I'm all out of vinegar."
Reference to "World War Three". Not my favourite episode and not the Doctor's favourite experience either, I reckon.
They wander back to the TARDIS, the outside dripping wet and not a trace inside. It still seems odd to her to the doors that so easily open to her is a wall of steel to everything else.
"Gonna do some Spock?" she asks as he leans over the console. "Scan for alien technology?"
Reference to "The Empty Child" and making some banter out of it. The thought of Doctor Who doing Star Trek references just amused me, so I carried on with it.
"I'm beginning to think you're carrying a torch for this Spock," he replies, eyes on the screen. "What's he got that I don't?"
"Smaller ears? Cool hand gestures?"
Live long and prosper.
"I can out-gesture him anyday. Aha!" he declares. "Spock!"
"Spock" turns out to be an alien spaceship doing undersea drilling. The TARDIS lands them in the middle of the commando centre, but unfortunately, the Spockers aren't all too keen to leave.
Avoiding making up another alien name here by reusing the Spock gag.
"I'm getting to see a lot different dungeons and shackles," she remarks, watching the Doctor trying to use the sonic screwdriver with his mouth. It really is a good thing aliens are not keen on body searches or keeping watch inside their dungeons, she reflects. "I should write a book. 'Your Guide to the Kinkier Side of the Universe', by Rose Tyler."
I like having them tied up, really. I blame "The Long Game" for giving me the idea and the lovely image.
He only grunts and tilts his head, aiming the screwdriver at the right shackle. With a light buzz, it finally comes open. The second is easier, and in a few steps, he's by her side, freeing her and kissing her in the same motion, leaving her slightly breathless.
"And for the grand finale, I'm gonna tamper with this ship's navigation system and send it back into space, get it lost and delete the coordinates to this planet!" he declares, and she laughs until he kisses her again, the taste of sonic screwdriver in his mouth. "Followed by a fantastic shag and amusing hand gestures in the bed of Rose Tyler."
In the end, he does everything he said and some he didn't.
He certainly has the energy for it, wouldn't you say? Also, is meant to vaguely imply them doing even naughtier things.
Part Two
Still to come: Commentary on an OFUM chapter, an OFUM2 chapter, "Butterflies Mate In Spring" (possibly). If you have a wish for a commentary, feel free to make one.
As per request. Doctor Who fandom, Nine/Rose, vaguely mature rating.
Welcome to this DVD-style commentary of "Song For Rose". This is your host and author, Camilla Sandman. We hope you find this at least slightly entertaining.
I went to so many websites looking up musical terms to use for this fic. I usually picked the musical term before I wrote the section for it. Some of the words I knew, some I didn't. Both nocturne and dirge have been in fic titles of mine. I'm quite fond of those words. I tend to form love affairs with certain words and you can seem them popping up in my stories now and then.
II
fugue
We can share each other's lives in the time it takes for this / Time inverts the obvious / We tumble and die and kiss / Die and kiss / Die and kiss
- Stephen Sheehan, Thoughts of You
II
We can share each other's lives in the time it takes for this / Time inverts the obvious / We tumble and die and kiss / Die and kiss / Die and kiss
- Stephen Sheehan, Thoughts of You
II
Unused lyrics I originally looked at for "East of the Sun, West of the Moon", those. I also went a bit back and forth on what to call the first section. Don't think I found the perfect one, but fugue did work.
Time sings.
Present tense! I'm not sure why exactly, but I write a lot more present tense for Doctor Who fics, even long ones such as this, where I'd normally opt for past tense with any other fandom. Might be related to the time theme of Doctor Who, I suppose, making me prefer present tense.
A hum at first, but it's growing, a crescendo of noise spinning inside her. It sings and she is the song and the words are in her. She tries to speak them, tries to make the words inside her pass through her lips.
And establishing the theme of the story right away here. I deliberatly use a few musical terms in the text of the story as well to reinforce it.
"I can see everything. All that is. All that was. All that ever could be."
Lines from the episode. I'm really dropping right into the action and trusting the reader to realise what's going on rather than set up a lot of exposition right off. Exposition bores me.
The words sound so less spoken in her voice. It's not enough to explain how she feels, capture the whole. Yet still he understands, she can see it burning in his eyes.
Her Doctor.
Echoing the line she spoke in the ep...
"That's what I see -- all the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?" he says and she thinks she nods. It's hard to remember her body when everything else is fighting for space.
"... my head...."
Her head, oh her head. Her head is the universe, a thousand universes stretching out through time. She can see them, see stars being born and stars die, planets crumble to dust, oceans dry out, civilizations and empires rise and fall, species evolving until death, children to parents to grandparents to dust. Everything dies and she's mourning it.
First bit of the fic I wrote, that paragraph. I'm quite fascinated by the idea of all you could see in time. And when I wrote it, I hadn't quite settled on how the story would be yet. It was just a bit I wrote down for later use.
And the dirge is rising, and even as she feels her own tears, it's beautiful too. The TARDIS is singing her name.
Rose.
You're so beautiful.
I'm killing you.
I don't care. I don't.
I do.
This is meant to be the TARDIS and her talking, an idea I've used in other fanfics as well. I love the TARDIS as a character. I try to give her a voice of her own. In this case, literally.
"Come here," the Doctor says, hands outstretched. She can see him, truly see him, everything he's been and will be, all the darkness in his burn. He's so beautiful. It's all so beautiful and despairing and everything and it's killing her.
"... it's killing me..."
And the song changes.
The first hint that what is about to happen is slightly off. I didn't write the fic to make the ending a surprise, but I did make it utterly obvious either.
II
dirge
We can weigh all the tears in one hand / Against the laughter in the other / We could be hanging around here for centuries / Trying to make sense of this, my dear / While the planets try to get organised / Way above the stratosphere / But they keep bringing out the dead, now / It’s easy if we just walk away / They keep bringing out the dead, now / It’s been a long, long day
- Nick Cave, "Messiah Ward"
II
dirge
We can weigh all the tears in one hand / Against the laughter in the other / We could be hanging around here for centuries / Trying to make sense of this, my dear / While the planets try to get organised / Way above the stratosphere / But they keep bringing out the dead, now / It’s easy if we just walk away / They keep bringing out the dead, now / It’s been a long, long day
- Nick Cave, "Messiah Ward"
II
Wasn't quite happy with the Nick Cave lyrics here either. I love the song, but I didn't think it fitted completely. Couldn't find any better though, and it does work. Really, a fic is never perfect, one just runs out of time and will to keep fiddling.
There was this singing...
This is a line spoken in the ep and what sparked the whole idea, really, and the musical theme running through. It's not really said in the episode what the singing was, so this is what I thought it might've been. In a much shippier universe than the BBC's, anyhoo.
"What happened?" she asks. She's in the TARDIS and the Doctor is there, staring intently at the TARDIS console. He's saying something she knows isn't true about singing the Daleks away and she tries to remember and all she hears is the echoes of music.
I paraphrased a bit here, mainly because people who'd seen the ep would know the lines and they weren't too important. I quote a few other lines people would know and I didn't want to make it boring by repeating what the episode tells ya.
"I don't remember anything else..."
"Rose Tyler," he says, and she knows that tone. "I was gonna take you to so many places. Barcelona. Not the city Barcelona, the planet Barcelona. You'd love it. Fantastic place. They've got dogs with no noses. Imagine how many times a day you tell that joke and it's still funny."
This is where I admit I never quite got that joke... Until Saz explained it to me, anyway. Me=slow.
He laughs and she echoes it faintly because it's such a delightful sound and she could feel it against her skin a whole lifetime.
I am fond of using sound as felt. There's a line later on too about feeling the sound of his heartbeats on her lips. Attempt to be a little different in how I describe things, I suppose.
And he falls.
First change from how it went in the ep. I debated a bit just where I would start changing it - obviously before the regeneration, but whether from when she wakes up in the TARDIS or just at his last words to her I wasn't sure. In the end, I decided on having a bit of the scene to make it clear what scene it was and perhaps have the readers expect what was coming - but be a little bit suprised.
She's too slow to catch him, but moments later, she's by his side, lifting his head. He's burning, his skin a furnace to touch. There's light in his skin, and for a moment, she can almost feel it hum. And then it's gone, as if it never was.
In the episode, you see it as well, the echo of the time vortex.
"Doctor!"
He doesn't stir and she struggles to haul his limp body up enough to get on her feet and carry him as a sack of alien know-it-all. By the time she reaches the end of the console room, she's run out of curses.
Alien know-it-all, my attempt to be witty. Which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't.
She doesn't know where his bedroom is, if he has any, but hers is there and the TARDIS seems to be in a helpful mood, keeping it close. She struggles to the bed, falling into it with him locked to her, reflecting that this was certainly not the way she's imagined having an alien in her bed for the first time.
Based on the fact that I'm not actually sure if he sleeps or not. Hum.
She arranges him as well she can, finding an extra pillow to put under his head, taking off his shoes, removing the jacket. Without it, he seems almost vulnerable, as if it's an armor and now there's only skin.
An observation of mine really, that. I thought he looked more vunerable in "Father's Day" when he took his jacket off. Makes the shoulder seem less broad or something. Or maybe it's just me...
"Now what?" she says to herself. The TARDIS is in flight and she can't control it, land it or do much of anything. Jack's not here....
Someone at GAFF was pointing out that it's a common mistake in Doctor Who fic to have a companion able to fly the TARDIS, so I made sure I didn't do that one.
Jack's dead. The Doctor wouldn't leave him and the realisation feels like a million little shards of ice, all inside her. Jack's dead and the Doctor's sick and she can't lose him too. Not him. Anything but him.
'Even Jack,' she thinks and that hurts, too.
In my take on the Jack/Rose/Doctor dance, I think both Rose and the Doctor, if faced with it, would choose the other. They both like and enjoy Jack, but they both share something between them beyond what Jack offers. This is just my interpretation, though.
She doesn't cry. Instead she finds cold water, a bucket and a cloth, brews some tea, digs into her bag to find the painkillers she brought just in case. Maybe they'll be of some use.
She's not going to let him die. She will never let him as long as there is breath in her to do something, she knows.
Which of course echoes what she's already done - looking into the TARDIS to be able to save him - and foreshadowing what she will do.
His skin is still burning as she soaks the cloth in cold water and wipes it across his forehead. She can feel the sweat under her fingertips and he really is an illusion of human. His hand feels human in hers, the accent sounds human and Northern to her ears, and if she ever kisses him, she's sure his lips will feel human too. Only when he looks at her, does she sometimes see something beyond human in the brightness of his eyes. He knows too much to be human.
Slight foreshadowing of a kiss to come. And of course, commenting on his delicious accent.
"You never told me what you're a Doctor of," she says and feels the softness of his hair against her palm as she strokes it softly. "Bringing trouble? Running for your life? Banter under fire?"
I'm wondering this myself. Must read more Doctor Who Canon....
The thought amuses her and she laughs softly, only laughter doesn't bring tears like this or deep gasping breaths. She's crying and she can't stop.
"Please don't die," she whispers and rests her head against his chest. "Just don't die like everything else."
Echoing her line about "everything dies" in the episode.
He's got two heartbeats, she realises, and they're beating a slow tune of hope. As long as she keeps listening, he'll be alive.
She can almost believe that.
Lame line to end the section on, but I had some lamer one previous and in the end, just gave up my search for the perfect one.
II
"Rose?"
She stirs to meet his alien gaze, realising she's fallen asleep with her head on his chest and her neck is aching. She's clutching the cloth with one and and his sweater with the other and he's awake and he's not dead.
Sign something isn't right #1 - just recovering like that, none too many worries.
"Oh," she breathes and embraces him and after a moment, she can feel his hands on her back, warm and comforting.
"It's all right, Rose," he says. "Just a bit of time vortex hangover."
Doctor trying to be funny in his reassurances, another thing he's done a few times.
"What happened?"
She eases back slightly to see him smile, that all too human silly grin.
"We won."
"How?"
"Cheating," he declares brightly and she thinks he can hide all the darkness in the word behind that brightness. Sometimes, she wonders if he's doing it for himself or for her. "Didn't think I'd get away with it."
This is also a bit of commentary from me on the slight deus ex machina solution of "Parting of the Ways". Also, sign something isn't right #2 - the Doctor didn't think he'd get away with it and he didn't, really.
"Jack didn't, did he?"
The brightness is gone and there's only the dark. "No," he says, and she rests her head against his chest again and feels his hands stroke her back softly, as if drawing the grief out of her with his skin. She has no idea how he can carry her grief too, along with everything else.
Makes two of us...
"You saved a lot of lives, Rose Tyler," he whispers, and his heartbeats are like thunder against her cheek.
"Jack still died."
"Someone always does."
Universal truth of Doctor Who. It's very, very rare not for someone to die during an episode. Which makes his reaction in "The Doctor Dances" so much stronger.
She closes her eyes, and their heartbeats seem to merge, one slow beating rhythm, so very slow until all seems still and he's just holding her forever.
Implied: He's doing his time slowing trick here.
II
The TARDIS is humming and she's watching it, the green light pulsating like a heartbeat. Heart of the TARDIS, time itself. The unstoppable force even the Doctor doesn't master fully, even if he'll never admit it to her. Too much bloke's pride, she reckons.
A bloke is still a bloke even when he's alien, in Rose's thinking in this fic. A way to relate him more to what she's used to, really.
Blokes always have too much pride, she thinks and remembers Jack.
She doesn't look up as she hears steps and the Doctor comes to sit down next to her on the floor. He smells of a shower, and maybe even of alien aftershave.
I assume even a Gallifreyan Time Lord takes some kind of cleaning shower/bath/scrub now and then. If I'm wrong, slap me.
"I looked into the TARDIS," she says, staring at the console. She remembers trying to open it, remembers the song, but not the melody or the words.
"Yep."
"I don't remember..."
"You're not made to remember it, Rose. Be glad."
Vague hint that the Doctor might remember more than her #1
She looks up him and there's nothing but sincerity in his face. The jacket is back on, she notices, familiar and worn and him. All back to normal, almost.
"You took it away. You absorbed it from me."
"Yep. Nearly killed me. Should've killed me." He frowns slightly and she punches him in the shoulder. "Ow!"
Sign something isn't right #3 - he admits it should've killed him - as it did.
"How dare you! How dare you almost die! How dare you do that to me!"
"How dare you do it to me!" he counters and she wants to slap him, hit him, hug him, kiss him, hold him until there is no more time and he's safe. Even if she knows he would never be happy like that. He breathes danger and adventure and is dancing with death. All she can do is offer her hand and hope her feet is up to it.
Using the dancing metaphore here a bit, just like the show has done. Also fits with the music theme, of course.
So she just laughs, and after a moment, he joins her. It's a laugh fused with despair, but it's still a laugh.
"Look at the pair of us," she says and he grins.
"Not half bad, all things considered."
I hope I got the slang right there... Not easy when it's not your native language, let me tell you. You pick up on the formal bits, but the slang is hard to learn unless you live there. I lived in Australia two years, that might've helped. I think I get British slang easier than American, anyway.
"Jack liked us, at least."
"Jack likes everyone. He's the friendly type."
"I noticed," she says, tapping her lips with a finger, remembering a kiss goodbye. After a heartbeat, the Doctor mimics the gesture. That too, he's shared with her. It scares her she's forgotten how it felt before him, before she shared his life and he shared hers.
"You know Jack. He'd ever pass up a chance to kiss humans or aliens."
Or indeed shag them.
"I know. So unfair. I've travelled with you longer and I still haven't kissed an alien."
He smiles, ever so faintly, as if knowing something she doesn't. "Plenty of time still."
Course, she has, but doesn't know it. He does, though. Don't think he would tell her that bit, though I wrote another fanfic where he did.
"Yeah."
Time still for her. Time still for the Doctor. Not for Jack. Not for so many others she's seen die. And with all she's seen, the Doctor has seen it a thousand times more, perhaps a million. How can he carry it?
I must really wonder at that, since I'm repeating it. Then again, I'm constantly amazed at how much humans can carry too.
"Come on," he says, and takes her hand. "Let's go somewhere."
They move on.
This having double meaning, obviously. Moving on as in going somewhere else, and moving on as in terms of having had a loss and living on.
II
romanze
don't think of the other places you should have been / it's a good thing that you came along with me
gold in the air of summer / you'll shine like gold in the air of summer
- Kings of Convenience, "Gold in the Air of Summer"
II
romanze
don't think of the other places you should have been / it's a good thing that you came along with me
gold in the air of summer / you'll shine like gold in the air of summer
- Kings of Convenience, "Gold in the Air of Summer"
II
Kings of Convenience is a Norwegian band which I adore immensly. I've used their lyrics in a fic once before, and I also considered using lyrics from another song of theirs in this fic, but ended up not.
The sun is red, is the first thing she notices. Bright red, like a dying fire, more embers than flames. It's still warm, its heat travelling through the cold of space to stroke her skin. No blistering hot, but summer definitely. The planet is green and lush, long grass moving in the wind and in the distance, rustling leaves of a forest are making a symphony.
Music theme again. And the description is based a lot on how a midnight sun looks, which I saw a lot of growing up. It does look a lot more red and you can actually look directly at it during the night.
"The planet of Vekramon," the Doctor says behind her, slipping into his guide mode so easily. "Populated by a human related spcies known as the Vekraan. Generally considered the best-looking aliens of all time. You can kiss one of them."
Ah, alien names. I admit I sometimes cheat and pick Norwegian words and just twist them, though at least once I've picked something that if you knew what it meant, did add meaning to the story (though you didn't need to know to read the story). This time, however - utterly made up and means nada.
"You brought me here for an alien kiss?"
"You were the one going on about never getting one."
"I was not going on about it," she protests, but is unable not to return his grin. "How good-looking?"
"Nothing to me, of course," he says, folding his arms.
Nine does seem quite comfortable joking about his appearance a bit, but he does also have a lovely little ego. Hard to say what's real and what's joking sometimes.
"Of course," she echoes, even as tempted she is to voice disagreement just to see his cute wounded look.
"Glad you agree. So, Rose Tyler, want to meet the alien kissing candidates?"
'I've already met one,' she thinks and feels his hand in hers.
Obvious implication: him. But you already knew that, even if I don't write it explicitly in the text. Readers usually are quite smart.
"Yep."
II
It's funny how there's always a London, even on alien planets. Hurried people, traffic problems, ugly buildings scattered around, even the religious nutter on the corner. Except the nutter is trying to convert her into the Right Way of the KraKra here, and the people are aliens. Not fully alien, though. She can see the human related the Doctor mentioned in the shape of them, but the skin seems slicker and the eyes are definitely bigger. There's think layers of hair across their shoulders, almost like fur.
"Kra" is actually what a crow "says" in Norwegian (like a pig says oink, and so on). I'm not too fond of religious nutters, can you tell?
The look of the aliens was slightly inspired by furries, I admit.
She's almost afraid to ask the Doctor what humans 'danced' with to evolve this species.
Repeating the dance metaphore from the series again.
"They only build out of stone or trees," the Doctor says as they walk. "They're very skilled. Consider it a sacrilege to have metal in anything but its pure form in nature. They get over it soon enough when they realise the profit they're sitting on. Planet's got plenty rare animals. They strip it bare, making it inhospital in the process."
Funny how religious conviction bend to money conviction, innit? Humans are very good at redefining principles to serve ourselves, and I figured this would stick in the human-descendents.
"Cheerful."
"You're telling me. They had the best bananas in known time."
Another series reference - bananas. I love bananas.
"You and bananas," she says, shaking her head slightly, just as she feels another London familiarity. "Oi!"
Spinning around, she just has time to see the pick-pocket set off with her phone and without thinking, she sets after. Alien or no, no one steals from Rose Tyler, especially priceless alien-tampered phones with no bill. She has no doubt the Doctor could find her another, but it's something of her old life still and she's already given up too much.
Slightly convinient plot device to get them seperated. Sometimes, one just has to make the best of plot devices. Serves as a reinforcement that some things are truly universal, too.
Luckily, she has longer legs and manages to reach the little brat just as he - she? - turns a corner. Confronted with the aspect of being caught, the thief tosses the phone in one direction, bolting in the other. Rose doesn't bother pursue. Picking up the phone, she turns to return to the Doctor, only to find a large alien in her path.
"Trouble?" he asks, flashing a smile. For a moment, he reminds her of Mickey, just slightly in the curves of his smile. An universe of differences, and it's still the familiarities she notices.
We have a tendency to look for those when abroad - I know I did -, and look for the differences most of the rest of the time so we can seperate the world into 'us' and 'them'. Slightly depressing, really.
"No," she says and smiles back. "No trouble."
"There is now."
Dun-dun-dun. Or not.
II
The Mickey-smile alien is named Veerkry, it turns out, and he doesn't take no for an answer. So she finds herself in his home, a mansion of wood clearly built to impress. She knows his kind. He probably drives the stone equivalant of a Ferrari. With the top down.
Implied: He likes to show off and possibly has a small penis.Or what passes for a penis in this breed of alien.
"Not many aliens come to Vekramon," Veerky says, patting her arm in a way she definitely doesn't like. She doesn't much like his gaze either.
Slimeball villain all around, this fella. I picked his name to echo the planet's name slightly, as if that is a naming habit there.
"Just passing through," she says brightly.
The Doctor has said that a few times, I reckon he rubs off on her.
"Thought so. You're here for the trade?"
"The trade...?"
He smiles. "Of course. You don't wish to speak about it. Perhaps you don't trust me. Let me show you what I have to offer and you soon will. I promise, my wares are far better than your usual contact can offer."
He's led her to a door, and opens it with an exaggerated gesture. "My treasure room."
Blah, blah, exposition, setting up the plot - hard to make too interesting, really. On first read it is neccessary, but on second, you tend to skip it.
Veerkry is not much of a religious alien, she realises and stares dumbly at the rows and rows of weapons. So many weapons, glimmering metal at her.
"Feel to inspect them," Veerkry goes on, and there's pride in his voice. "I'm devolping a new line you might be particulary interested in. Old alien artifact, but we're working on improving it. I haven't quite finished it yet, but..."
She looks into his hands for the weapon he's holding up and for a long time, she just looks. A Dalek's gun. The gun that killed Jack, killed so many, offered for sale so it can kill even more.
I don't really explain here how it might've ended up there, but if one Dalek fell from the sky, it's possible remains of others did as well, and have been found by the likes of Veerkry. And also a plot device so I could show Rose is still grieving Jack somewhat. I had originally planned he would return later in the story, but I'm not that fond of writing him, so I kept him out. Yes, I am mean.
No.
"Excuse me, Master," a Vekraan says somewhere behind her, "but there is an alien at the door. He's insisting his companion is here."
"That's my partner," she says quickly, knowing it can only be the Doctor. "He'll want to see your wares too."
"Of course, of course."
Veerkry's smile is all indulgement and for a moment, she almost wishes the gun worked so she could use it on him and see how much he smiled then. But only for a moment.
I think everyone has those moments of thinking about wanting to kill people at least, but what matters is not acting on it.
As it turns out, it is the Doctor at the door, standing with his arms behind his back, smiling as ever. But she knows if politeness would have failed, he would have ripped the house apart to reach her.
The Doctor does spring into action if he has to, but he does prefer the polite way. Very British, I think, and one of the reasons I do adore the show.
"Rose!" he says and there is just the tiniest hint of relief in his voice. "Got in a bit of troubling running into a Vekraan. Sorry for being late."
"That's okay," she replies in the same bright tone as him. "I was just telling Veerkry here you'd like to see the wares too."
The Doctor looks for a moment confused, and Veerkry is still eyeing her and the solution to both suddenly seem too tempting, too near. Just a step, and she flings her arms around the Doctor and kisses him enthusiastically on the lips, no hesitation. He goes still, if due to surprise or reluctance she doesn't know.
What I'm not sure I made clear enough here is of course she's kissing the Doctor to make sure Veerkry thinks she's taken and pass a message on to the Doctor. Though wanting to probably factored in as well.
"He deals in guns," she whispers against his lips, "and he's ogling me."
The Doctor kisses her back before she can say anything more, lips gentle even as they seem to drain all the breath out of her. Her alien kiss delivered, and it feels so human it makes her ache.
Refering back to a scene earlier where she thought he would feel human to kiss. Or the earlier bit was setting up this one, whichever way you prefer to look at it.
He pulls away finally, taking her hand as he does, and she knows he's about to do something very stupid. And she'll be right there, helping him.
"You always find trouble," he says, and his eyes are shining.
II
The sun is still red and burning when they climb back towards the TARDIS sometime later, but it's no longer the only one. Yellow are the fires of Veerkry's little home slash business slash gun storage as it burns and she can only imagine how much Veerkry is regretting taking trouble home.
Look at naughty me, skipping all the action. Mostly because it looks much better on TV than it is to read and also, it's not my favourite thing to write. You get enough of an idea to imagine it, anyway.
And somewhere in the fire, a Dalek arm is burning too. She didn't tell the Doctor of that one. She lost Jack to it, and so did he, but he also lost a whole planet. She doesn't want to remind him of that grief. Not when she can remind him he's alive and not alone instead.
And her she's slightly mirroring him taking her grief earlier in the story - she's trying to help ease his, even if she might've felt better sharing it and be comforted.
"That was an impressive boom," she says and he grins.
"So was that tackle of yours. And distracting Veerkry with that religious nutter of KraKra was almost so brilliant it's on my level."
Rule of TV - if you're showing the gun in the first act, it must be fired by the third. Cam's slightly modified rule - if you show a religious nutter, he must be launched at someone before the resolution.
"You're so full of it," she says and shakes her head. He gives her the wounded look again and he's so him her heart seems to sing with it. Alien or human, it doesn't matter. She's chosen him over everything else in her life and she would again in a heartbeat.
Refering back to the singing again, as well as pointing out just how much Rose has given up to travel with him, which is a good indication of her regard for him.
He turns slightly when he senses her slow down, worry in his eyes. "Rose?"
She takes his head in her hands, and he doesn't hinder her, just looks at her with those bright eyes.
"What are you doing?"
I was so torn about whether to use "whatcha doing" here or not. It didn't quite feel right, but neither did "what are". Too formal, I think. I generally write a bit more formally than native speakers do, I think. Just how I was taught the language.
"What you brought me here for. I'm kissing an alien," she says softly, standing on her toes as she brings her lips to his. He inhales once, sharply, but parts his lips willingly to let her feel the taste of him. Faintly, a memory stirs, but it's buried under a hundred new impressions. She traces his teeth with her tongue, feels the slight stubble of his cheek scrape against her skin. His hands have gone to her waist, locking her to him. She can hear the faint sound of leather against cloth, his jacket against her top.
I seem to favour her kissing him first in most scenarios I've written because I think he is a lot more guarded about it than she is. For one thing, she has a boyfriend when he meets her. And then there's a huge age difference and the little fact of being alient. But I also think he loves her deeply and I'm not too sure he would be able to resist if she really went for him.
"Now we're in trouble," he whispers, breath ragged.
Echoing a line from "Rose" there. That was the start of something, this is the start of something else.
"It's a good thing I have a taste for it, then," she replies, tilting her head slightly, feeling the wind catch her hair before he kisses her, the sun warm at her back.
She could get used to this.
Blah, bad line. I stuck it in there till I could think of something better, but never did.
II
nocturne
I'm not gonna talk about doubt and confusion / On a night when I can see with my eyes shut.
-The Proclaimers, "The Joyful Kilmarnock Blues"
II
nocturne
I'm not gonna talk about doubt and confusion / On a night when I can see with my eyes shut.
-The Proclaimers, "The Joyful Kilmarnock Blues"
II
The wall of the TARDIS is uneven against her back, one particular round-metal-something digging painfully into her back and she doesn't really care. What does a little uncomfort matter when there's pleasure and the Doctor is kissing her with the expertise of a 900-year-old Time Lord?
Uncomfort? Blah. Discomfort. Slightly cheesy line too, but then again, Rose is still young and we're all a little cheesy then.
She's gotten used to kissing him, the feel of his lips against hers, though in a slightly getting-used-to-have-won-the-lottory way. There is still the little moment of joyous rediscovery in moments like this and she hopes that never fades. The moment she gets too used to it, too used to this mad life in the TARDIS is probably the moment it comes to an abrupt halt. Superstition, perhaps, but she still clings on to her moments of awe.
Foreshadowing - she does get used to it and it comes to an abrupt halt.
And she's not quite willing to admit it's also because he seems to enjoy them so.
As seen in "The End of the World" particulary. It's just endearing in him, I think.
His hand is warm on her hip, lifting her top just ever so slightly, enough to brush against naked skin. She sighs into the kiss, and he pulls away slightly, his face in shadow. The light of the TARDIS is faint, almost as in night, even if the TARDIS doesn't really do day cycles.
To work with the nocturne heading, I had to make it nightish in feeling if not fact, at least.
"Rose Tyler," he says, and she slides her hands across his chest. "How come you never do what I tell ya?"
"Because I'm not a dog."
He grins. "I'd hope not. That'd be kinky."
It wouldn't surprise me if the Doctor is a little kinky, actually. Nine hundred years makes for a lot of time to find your inner kink.
"I did save you from the Cloxan," she points out, sliding her hands up this time, only under his sweater and across skin.
Another randomly made up name. Sounds like a toothpaste, actually.
"I could've solved that!" he protests, closing his eyes for a moment as she strokes a finger across his nipple.
"He was about to have your head off!"
"I always get my best ideas when in immidiate fatal danger."
Which is true enough... Though I suspect a lot of times the Doctor is more ahead of the game than he lets on.
"Uh-huh," she mutters, leaning forward to kiss his neck.
"Huh!" he insists, but seems to give up protesting as she trails kisses along his chest, the feel of his heartbeats strange on her lips. She can feel the echoes even as she continues down, pressing light kisses around his navel, feeling his hipbone under her fingers.
When she tilts her head up, he's looking at her with so much intensity it feels like his gaze slams into her. They've been playing kissing games for days now, but they haven't gone this far before.
Trademark Gaze of Intensity. Not too fond of "kissing games" there, but again, after a while, you just have to stop tinkering with a fic or go mad.
Probably partly because they've also been busy saving the Universe from hungry Cloxan feeders, she reflects, but it still feels like he's been waiting for something. Maybe he's still, despite all, waiting for her to tell him to stop, sure it will come.
She lifts her face back up to his, pressing one soft kiss against his lips, feeling his breath mingle with hers.
"Come with me," she says, and takes his hand.
And again, it's Rose who leads and pushes the next step. And also a line I seem to use over and over in various fanfics. Probably because it's in the series as well.
II
She watches his face as he sinks into her, her body slowly adjusting to the unfamiliar hardness. He doesn't close his eyes, doesn't say anything, just sighs, just once. It sounds like a surrender and she wonders how long he's been wanting to do this and denied himself.
I don't write explicit smut, mainly cos I don't do it well and I hate, hate a lot of euphenisms for vagina and penis. "Hardness" I can vaguely abide by.
Perhaps as long as she has.
He laces one hand in her hair as he moves slightly, a flicker of pain crossing his face.
"It's okay," she whispers, kissing his ear. "You won't hurt me."
"I will," he replies. "I'm sorry."
Alluding to the darker side of their relationship here, and the fact that he is a lot older than her. She is more naive than him, being the age she is and he would be more aware of everything that will cause her pain. And still he can't let her go - he might be more aware of the cost than her, but he is still keeping her there, taking her with.
She wants to protest, but he's moving again, and she's digging her fingernails into his back and the sounds she's making doesn't even sound like her. There's a white fire somewhere behind her eyelids and he's stroking it, stroking her skin, touching her until she is the firestorm and the roar is flying, flying, flying...
Orgasm, Cam euphemism writing way.
And then there's stillness in the moment of flight. She's alive, she's everything, she's Rose and her heartbeats can hold an infinity. It's almost too much, but then his hand is there, holding hers.
Again, hinting that he's doing his time slowing trick here.
Gasping, she feels his body greet her back as she slumps against him, her hand clutching his so hard it must hurt. But he's just smiling, and in her eyes she can see the mirror of herself loved and it's so bright it hurts.
And a little later, when her body finally coaxes him to come, his face is so beautiful she hopes her eyes are mirrors too.
My way of trying to avoid the fanfic cliche of simultaneous orgasm. Though of course being 900, who knows what the Doctor has picked up on. It would surely be something to write to Playboy about.
II
He's tracing patterns with his fingers across her skin, and she's tucked her head under his, listening to time passing through the TARDIS. It's almost like a lullaby and it's almost like night, darkness at the edges of her bed, one couple post-coital.
This is almost domestic.
"Don't even say it," he says and she smiles.
Yeah. Almost.
And she lets the lullaby drift her to sleep, thinking it almost familiar.
Sign something isn't right #4 - the song keeps repeating. The last bit also gets repeated near the end.
II
ostinato
And in the passage from the cradle to the grave we are born, madly dancing / Rushing headlong through the crashing of the days / We run on and on without a backwards glance / We run on and on without a backwards glance
- Dan Fogelberg, "In the Passage"
II
ostinato
And in the passage from the cradle to the grave we are born, madly dancing / Rushing headlong through the crashing of the days / We run on and on without a backwards glance / We run on and on without a backwards glance
- Dan Fogelberg, "In the Passage"
II
I haven't actually heard this song, I just nabbed the lyrics. I collect lyrics, should I ever have use of them.
It's becoming a familar scenario.
Using "familiar" to bridge between the two sections. I bridged some bits in this fic, but didn't bother with all, the lyrics and section headings tying it all together in the end anyway.
Running, she nearly crashes into tree and only a last minute yank from the Doctor's hand makes her turn right and avoid smacking right into it. Behind her, she can hear the water coming.
"Great idea!" she gasps. "Going to the beach on the day of a tsunami!"
"Wasn't meant to be a tsunami today!" he replies and if he says anything more, she can't hear it over the roar of water. Stronger and stronger it sounds, until everything else is drowned and the water slams into her with persistence.
It's going to be another long day at the job, she thinks.
I didn't do too many details of the tsunami because of the tsunami in Asia almost a year ago which killed a lot of people, including Norwegians. I didn't want to remind myself too much and was also trying to make this adventure light-hearted as opposed to the slightly angstier one earlier and the one to come.
II
"I hope there's someone to send this drycleaning bill too," the Doctor says, sounding displeased. The water has fallen back to the sea, but not without disorganising everything in its path and leaving Rose's hair as soaking wet as the Doctor's leather jacket. She's taking it with better grace with him, or perhaps only on the surface.
He does sometimes seem to be talking about utterly irrelevant things while his mind is racing on the relevant ones.
He's thinking and she can see steel in his eyes. Something's wrong and he intends to find it, fix it and get his jacket properly cleaned. And then maybe ravage her, or that might just be her having fantasies again.
Or a fanfic author having her way...
She sighs and wrings her hair, smelling the salt. There's still a faint trace of it on her lips too, from swallowing too much sea water while trying to float. She's decided not ask for another beach vacation for years.
"This not a natural occurance, then?" she asks. "Since you said it wasn't meant to be and your history is always perfect."
Reference to "The Long Game". And again, Rose picking up on something he's said and echoing it later.
"Not sure," he says and frowns, staring at the sea. "This lot shouldn't be advanced enough to tamper with creating earthquakes yet."
"Aliens? Slitheens again, maybe?"
He makes a face. "Hope not. I'm all out of vinegar."
Reference to "World War Three". Not my favourite episode and not the Doctor's favourite experience either, I reckon.
They wander back to the TARDIS, the outside dripping wet and not a trace inside. It still seems odd to her to the doors that so easily open to her is a wall of steel to everything else.
"Gonna do some Spock?" she asks as he leans over the console. "Scan for alien technology?"
Reference to "The Empty Child" and making some banter out of it. The thought of Doctor Who doing Star Trek references just amused me, so I carried on with it.
"I'm beginning to think you're carrying a torch for this Spock," he replies, eyes on the screen. "What's he got that I don't?"
"Smaller ears? Cool hand gestures?"
Live long and prosper.
"I can out-gesture him anyday. Aha!" he declares. "Spock!"
II
"Spock" turns out to be an alien spaceship doing undersea drilling. The TARDIS lands them in the middle of the commando centre, but unfortunately, the Spockers aren't all too keen to leave.
Avoiding making up another alien name here by reusing the Spock gag.
"I'm getting to see a lot different dungeons and shackles," she remarks, watching the Doctor trying to use the sonic screwdriver with his mouth. It really is a good thing aliens are not keen on body searches or keeping watch inside their dungeons, she reflects. "I should write a book. 'Your Guide to the Kinkier Side of the Universe', by Rose Tyler."
I like having them tied up, really. I blame "The Long Game" for giving me the idea and the lovely image.
He only grunts and tilts his head, aiming the screwdriver at the right shackle. With a light buzz, it finally comes open. The second is easier, and in a few steps, he's by her side, freeing her and kissing her in the same motion, leaving her slightly breathless.
"And for the grand finale, I'm gonna tamper with this ship's navigation system and send it back into space, get it lost and delete the coordinates to this planet!" he declares, and she laughs until he kisses her again, the taste of sonic screwdriver in his mouth. "Followed by a fantastic shag and amusing hand gestures in the bed of Rose Tyler."
In the end, he does everything he said and some he didn't.
He certainly has the energy for it, wouldn't you say? Also, is meant to vaguely imply them doing even naughtier things.
Part Two
Still to come: Commentary on an OFUM chapter, an OFUM2 chapter, "Butterflies Mate In Spring" (possibly). If you have a wish for a commentary, feel free to make one.
