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misscamRose Tyler's History of Sex
by Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: BBC's characters. My words.
Summary: At eight, Rose Tyler learns about sex. It all sounds very peculiar. [Doctor/Rose, Rose/Mickey, Others]
Rating: Mature. Language and adult activities.
Author's Note: Much thanks to Saz for various info supplied. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wendymr for beta. For amberite in the Rose Tyler ficathon, who wanted 1. Erotic content with a disturbing undertone. 2. A character hiding their emotions, which eventually come out. 3. A simple quirk or object that is mentioned in canon, taking on a strong emotional or sexual charge. I have tried my very best to avoid what she didn't want, too. Prompt 034 for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50lyricsfanfic. (Table of Prompts.) Spoilers for season one and two, though vague.
II
At eight, Rose Tyler learns about sex.
Whispered words of an older girl in her ear, mentioning acts that sound gross, impossible and improbable, on a cold October day devoid of rain. Rose giggles all the way home, even if it's not really funny. It's just forbidden knowledge, and she likes that.
Her mum looks strangely at her over dinner by the telly, but only until the soaps are on and Rose takes the opportunity to excuse herself without any questions asked. She isn't entirely sure, but she thinks sex is not something she should mention to her mother. Instead, she goes to her room and tells her teddy bear all about it.
She's just about reached the part with the sticking-in-business, when she looks up and sees her mother in the doorway.
"Rose," her mother says, but she doesn't sound angry, doesn't sound anything. "I don't think Mr. Tedopoulos has anything to stick with."
Later, her suggestions of making Mr. Tedopoulos one rather ignored, Rose gets a non-whispered account of sex, STDs, love, men-are-bastards-except-her-father-who-was-wonderful, how to kick a guy in the balls and what balls are. It all sounds very peculiar, and she has a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more to it. She goes to bed with much to think about, lying awake until her room is dark and no longer looks like the inside of a strawberry.
She hopes boys will become a little less stupid if she's going to be having all that sex in her life, and forgets about sex in the morning in the excitement of skipping school with Shareen.
She doesn't really notice her mother stops calling her 'my little girl'.
II
At fourteen, Rose Tyler gets snogged.
Brick wall at her back, clenched fists at her hips and Mickey Smith's tongue in her mouth. It's all very unexpectedly wet and his lips feel very, very large against hers and she almost can't breathe. But it is also a strange tingle in her head and the strange sensation whenever his tongue touches her. It might be pleasure.
Mickey Smith's always been trying to please her. She knows where she has him, except she didn't really expect to have him in her mouth today. Mickey is like Mr. Tedopoulos, except he definitely has something to stick with, judging from the slight pressure against her stomach. They're both cuddly and cheer her up when she cries and make her mother smile when she brings them with. Nothing special, but nothing wrong either.
Rose thinks she might like something more.
II
At fifteen, Rose Tyler gets shagged.
Hair in her mouth, Jimmy Stone's hands pinching her breasts and his breath panting almost like he's a dog. It's not wonderful. It's actually kind of dreadful, the weight of him too much and abdomen filled with a dull sort of ache that is at least better than the sharp pain at first.
But this is Jimmy Stone, exciting, popular Jimmy Stone in his leather jacket, the guy every girl wants to be with and he's with her. That is kind of wonderful. He's even written her a song. His band is going to perform it and everyone will know Rose Tyler is something special.
"Fuck, yeah," Jimmy says, and then it seems to be over and he rolls off her. She lies staring at the ceiling for a while, wondering if this is it, and why her mother would be doing it with Roger the postman if it was. Roger is not that hot and he always gets their post mixed up with the Walters' downstairs. Not that special at all.
"Wanna go again?" Jimmy says. She doesn't really, but Jimmy does, and she'll do anything for Jimmy. Even be on top when he asks her too, and then, then she begins to understand there might be a lot more.
She still doesn't understand the postman.
II
At nearly sixteen, Rose Tyler gets her heart broken.
Head against the pillow, sheets still smelling of him, listening to the silence that seems impossibly loud. He's gone and dumped her. He's gone and left her to go to Amsterdam with Noosh, who he's been shagging for weeks and thinks has better 'artistic vibes' than her. She wants to hate him, but that requires feeling anything, and that feels like too much right now.
He's left her. She left Mickey for him. Left school. Left her mum's. Now she's the one who's been left.
Arsehole. Bastard. Small-dicked shag zero. Wanker. She hopes Noosh leaves his dick so blue he can't even wank with it, in fact. She hates him. Hates him, hates, hates, hates! Good fucking riddance. She's so much better off without him and his wanting blowjobs in the morning. So much better.
It takes her a whole hour to stop crying and a whole more to summon up the courage to call her mother.
II
At sixteen, Rose Tyler uses a guy.
Fingers in her hair, eyes remaining closed, not for illusion's sake, but because it feels worse using him when she can see his blue eyes. His name is Colin or Carl or something, and he's sweet and cute and smiled at her after she came out of another disastrous job interview feeling a stupid failure with bad hair. Colin - or Carl - likes her hair. Doesn't think her a failure, either. Even offered her a few places she might try instead after she explained the debt she had to pay off.
Nothing wrong with kissing him as a thank you. Nothing wrong, except she's doing it because he's not Jimmy, and he's doing it because she's a nice girl with blonde hair he probably fancies. Carl - or Colin - wants more, she can tell from the way he's being so very careful when kissing her back. A guy just enjoying a snog from a stranger won't feel restrained. A guy hoping to see her again will.
She feels a little bad when she gives him the number to Ann Leslie at the butcher's instead of her own, but there's so much else to feel bad about in her life it soon fades and she never does remember if his name was Carl or Colin.
At the second place he told her off, she gets her job.
II
At seventeen, Rose Tyler goes for safe.
Mickey Smith's tongue in her ear, her fingers burrowing into his shoulder and his dick what feels like deep inside her, making her pant and writhe and buck, particularly when he uses his fingers too. Mickey's been learning. Mickey's been giving her looks since she came home. Mickey's been taking her out on dates, kissing her on the second, inviting her home on the fifth, seeing her naked after the tenth, having a fight with her on the twelfth, shagging her before, during and after the thirteenth.
This is a Proper Relationship. She's got a job, he's got a job, they share lunches and weekends and sometimes sick days. He indulges her Mr. Tedopoulos. She indulges his football matches. She still lives with her mum, but she's not hurrying off to live with a guy this time. She's learned. She loves Mickey Smith and Mickey Smith loves her. This is going to be right.
She's not sure what the lure of wrong ever was.
II
At nineteen, Rose Tyler meets the Doctor.
Hand in his hand, running from mannequins, heart pounding in her chest so hard it feels like she's running to drums. As first meetings go, it's certainly a memorable one. The second isn't bad either, and the third comes with a proposal she should really say no to. Really.
After all, he's a stranger, looking middle-aged and sounding more crazy than Aunt Jenny's theories on aliens in the city council. And still, still he has something she can't put her finger on and finds she'd like to certainly put her mouth on. He's not classically handsome, doesn't seem to act with any awareness of sexuality except when he suddenly does, smiles brightly with dark eyes and seems to have a gravity of his own, bringing objects into orbit around him without really bringing them close.
The Doctor. She's not sure if she wants to shag him, smack him, stick by him or sedate him. Maybe all four at once.
For now, the third option will do.
II
At nineteen and much TARDIS time, Rose Tyler starts to hate self-control.
His body close, the smell of leather jacket filling her nose, every part of her body from the head down longing to slam him into a wall and ram her tongue down his throat until she knows if Time Lords have tonsils. Some parts of her head too, come to think of it. Just not the ones currently in charge.
Because this is not a sexual thing. It's not. It's much more. It's not about shagging. He's alien. He might not even like sex, for all she knows. She does know he loves everything enough to try to save it. He's old, much older than he looks. He's damaged in a way she can only vaguely guess. He doesn't let her too close, and at the same time seems to cling to her. It's enough to make her feel powerful. Powerful enough to test it.
He doesn't yell at her after she's nearly killed the world for her father, but she can tell he wants to. Can tell the Doctor has an iron self-control himself, only slipping occasionally, and she wonders what hides behind it.
Wonders, wants and waits, thinking of the feel of leather against skin only when her own control slacks a little.
II
At nearing twenty, Rose Tyler learns human sexuality is not at all as she was taught.
Heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, all little labels. Jack tears them up. Or he would, if he understood them. He just is sex, treating getting a shag as most treat having a meal.
Rose has egg rolls at a local Earth Specialities R' Us on Colony Five; Jack sleeps with a woman as bald as an egg. The Doctor takes her for tea in ancient China; Jack nearly gets them killed shagging the Emperor. The TARDIS accidentally lands them in the middle of a Velucian Feast; Jack plays sandwich with two Velucians. The Doctor feeds her Swedish meatballs on the planet Sweden; Jack looks at them both as if he could lick spaghetti sauce off them with pleasure.
Jack is no couple's fifth wheel, making his own place everywhere, even between Rose and the Doctor, and neither minds.
II
At as old as time, the TARDIS and Rose Tyler share.
Suns in her head, life in one palm, death in another, Rose learns. Learns what the TARDIS knows, what the Doctor suspects, what humans ignore. Learns and hurts, because time doesn't know emotion as it kills, but she does. Oh, she does, and maybe the TARDIS does too, or maybe it just learns from her, being her.
It feels like a thousand times sex, sharing body, being filled with time until her skin feels made of it. Everyone's skin is made of it, and she can tear it off. Life is just atoms. Atoms part.
Atoms join. Gravity and orbit and banging together, life as small to humans as humans are to time. So very small, Rose's mind feels. So much time trying to find space. Too much. She can feel everything. It's not wonderful. It's actually kind of dreadful.
And then he takes it away, and that's dreadful too, Sleeping Beauty reversed.
She forgets. The TARDIS remembers. The Doctor changes.
II
At the last day of nineteen, Rose Tyler gets possessive.
Another blonde, another hand, another life in the orbit of the Doctor. For a little while. She's not mad at Reinette, not really. Not when they've shared something as intimate as the Doctor. Isn't mad at Sarah-Jane, either. And she knows the Doctor isn't hers. She knows. Really. He's not her husband, not her lover, nothing really romantic like that. She shouldn't therefore feel cheated on.
She does.
Whatever he shared with Reinette, it feels like something she should have a right to as well.
II
At twenty, Rose Tyler finally nails an alien.
His cock, texture so human, smell of not quite, feeling of definitely not. She can't even properly explain how it is not, it just isn't. It's imitation of human, not human. He does fit inside her, he does have hair everywhere he should to the point of it tickling her, he does thrust into her with the impatience of most males, even if it has odd pauses. But he never closes his eyes, he narrates everything he does with biological facts (at least she she can't snog him silent), spends two hours on foreplay and his orgasm seems to involve anything but ejaculation. Time stutters, his eyes shine with stars, his skin burns so much it hurts to touch and the TARDIS crashes.
This is shagging the Doctor, then. She's forgotten why it was supposed to be such a bad idea, and when he grins and flips her over onto her stomach and keeps talking, she thinks he must've too.
II
At twenty, Rose Tyler remembers boys are still stupid.
Hands in his pockets, hair still a mess from the wind of the angry Atlantic ocean they've left behind, he is just calmly looking at her. Mickey would've fled until her mood had improved, Jimmy would've started singing until she had to smile. The Doctor just looks at her, not defending himself as she rages at him.
'When you sleep with someone, you sleep with everyone they've ever slept with', a nurse told her once. The Doctor has now slept with Mickey and Jimmy. She thinks she's possibly slept with Reinette and maybe Sarah Jane. All she wants to know is who else. All she wants to know is how she fits into it. All she wants to know is how he feels.
Boys are stupid. They never say.
"Rose," the Doctor says calmly, his brown eyes as intensely looking at her as his blue once did. "You already know."
"So?"
He takes her hand, and this time it's her who stares at him.
"So everything," he says, and kisses her until her anger merges with desire and she has him up against the console, hard, fast and pissed off, fucking more than making love.
Boys are very, very stupid. But so are girls.
II
At twenty-one, Rose Tyler gets fucked over.
Image faded, her mother holding her, all she can think is that he never said. He's left her, or rather the Universe have torn them apart, and she can't know. He never said. He shared his life with her, kissed her, shagged her, broke her heart and still never said.
Wanker, wanker, wanker. Arsehole of an alien. She loves him. Loves, loves, loves. This isn't fair. She doesn't even have stupid Mr. Tedopoulos to cry to, because she's stranded in another bloody universe and her room isn't pink and there's no sound of the TARDIS to wait for and nothing is like it was. She's not even pregnant, even if she made him think so for a moment, just to see how he would react. She has nothing to keep that was his.
She's going to be so much better off without him, her mum keeps insisting. Just like she did with Jimmy. It might even be true.
Rose still decides to get herself something to remember him by.
II
At twenty-three, Rose Tyler meets Henry Miller.
Brown eyes, curly hair, smile that is infectious. All good mood is Henry, even when she first rejects him. Henry has time to wait. Henry doesn't wear Chucks and can't understand why she always does. Henry thinks the world should just save itself. Henry is patient. Henry asks her out for weeks and finally gets a yes. Henry is funny and full of laughs. Henry makes her happy. Henry kisses her and she doesn't mind, his kiss tasting of gum and spring.
She can't be cold forever, she considers.
Henry is sweet. Henry sleeps with her, gets her pregnant, marries her, even if her job is chasing aliens and protecting the Earth and will always come before him. Henry says he doesn't mind.
Rose Tyler Miller doesn't believe him. She's learned.
II
At twenty-nine, Rose Tyler Miller gets a divorce.
Two kids, a house, two cars and a cat get divided and settled with ink on paper, and afterwards, they stand in the hallway together, only their shadows touching. It feels strange how much distance there can be to a guy she once let have full run of her vagina, really. She did love him, at least she thinks it was love. Maybe it was just need and it stopped. Maybe it was love, and that stopped too.
"That's it, then," Henry says, voice tired. "I'll come and pick up Jack and Jamie on Friday."
"Yeah," she agrees, and when he walks off, she doesn't look after him.
II
At thirty, Rose Tyler gets seduced.
Skin to skin, Mickey is familiar. She knows he's using her because he's mad at Jake. He knows she's using him because the body has certain needs. What's a little screwing between friends, after all? She lets him kiss her, lets him lead her to his bed, lets him find some sort of comfort in sex. She knows it's a hollow sort of comfort, much like wearing the same brand of shoes the love of your life did just to feel like you still share something.
Sometimes, hollow is all you get.
Afterwards, they share a beer and a comfortable silence, at least until Jake comes home.
In the end, she lets Jake seduce her too, for fairness' sake.
II
At thirty-three, Rose Tyler tries to give her kids sex-ed.
Uncomfortable silence and unhelpful illustrations until she gives up and calls her mum, who marches in with textbooks and iron will and doesn't even let the boys' squirming distract her. Rose listens from the living room, and notes the vocabulary has grown more colourful since she had hers. It all seems such a long time ago, so many hearts and shags ago. Jimmy, Mickey, the Doctor, Henry, Mickey, Jake, Jake and Mickey, Rupert the postman, Dan from work and those still to come. She's sure there will be some.
She's pretty sure none of them will last. Forever is a teenage illusion she indulged and the Doctor let her.
When Jack and Jamie looks over at her with wide eyes, she knows she won't have them forever either. They're growing up.
She's growing old.
II
At fifty-three, Rose Tyler loses her mother.
Cold October day, rain falling, the priest's words just merging into incompressible notes. Pete holds an eulogy, talking about second chances and miracles and how much he loved her and how he hopes she knew. Gwen Tyler says a few words too, talking about her wonderful mother until she can't speak for tears.
Rose doesn't cry. Her mum has lived a good life, loved twice over. Not everyone gets back the love of their life. Hardly anyone at all. Jackie Tyler was lucky. Nothing to cry about.
Rose hasn't been, but when Jack and Jamie both take her hand, the permanent reminders that she once shagged and loved Henry Miller, just like she is the same of Pete and Jackie Tyler, she thinks she didn't do too bad after all. She's raised them well, too. Her mum would've been proud.
Her mum will never get to say that.
When she has put Jackie and Jamie to bed in the evening, she doesn't stop crying for an hour and there's no one to call.
II
At seventy, Rose Tyler knows she's dying.
Ache deep in her bones, faint burn in back of her mind, she knows. The doctors all try to reassure her, but she's learned pretty well to spot when a doctor is lying. So she lets them admit her to hospital, and sneaks out at night in Chucks and nightgown.
She doesn't want to die somewhere that white. She doesn't want to die at all, not when Jamie is about to have his first kid and Jack is in some sort of trouble even if he pretends not to be. But time has no compassion and wouldn't understand pleading, so she might as well take the defeat gracefully.
It's a dark night, stars clear, and she sits watching then, remembering travelling among them. She hasn't forgotten. She's moved on, but she hasn't forgotten.
"I know you loved me, you know," she tells the shoes. "I still would've liked to hear, you bloody wanker. Maybe you thought it went without saying. Maybe you love everything and find the words discriminating. Maybe you thought shagging me said it well enough. Maybe you were just a coward."
She thinks about it, but her head hurts, and she's tired, so tired. She's just going to sit here, on the grass, under the stars, listening to the wind in the trees howling like a distant wolf. It smells like rain is coming. She hope it doesn't soak her. She only bought her shoes yesterday.
It's nice to have something new in all the old.
It does rain at dawn, and by then, only her body is left and it doesn't complain.
II
At eight, Rose Miller asks her father Jack Tyler Miller about sex and he wishes he had a mother he could call. He still does his best with a lecture on sex, STDs, love, men-are-bastards-except-those-your-father-tells-you-are-not, how to kick a guy in the balls and what balls are.
Rose is pretty sure there's more to it.
She'll learn she's right.
FIN
by Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: BBC's characters. My words.
Summary: At eight, Rose Tyler learns about sex. It all sounds very peculiar. [Doctor/Rose, Rose/Mickey, Others]
Rating: Mature. Language and adult activities.
Author's Note: Much thanks to Saz for various info supplied. Thanks to
wendymr for beta. For amberite in the Rose Tyler ficathon, who wanted 1. Erotic content with a disturbing undertone. 2. A character hiding their emotions, which eventually come out. 3. A simple quirk or object that is mentioned in canon, taking on a strong emotional or sexual charge. I have tried my very best to avoid what she didn't want, too. Prompt 034 for 50lyricsfanfic. (Table of Prompts.) Spoilers for season one and two, though vague. II
At eight, Rose Tyler learns about sex.
Whispered words of an older girl in her ear, mentioning acts that sound gross, impossible and improbable, on a cold October day devoid of rain. Rose giggles all the way home, even if it's not really funny. It's just forbidden knowledge, and she likes that.
Her mum looks strangely at her over dinner by the telly, but only until the soaps are on and Rose takes the opportunity to excuse herself without any questions asked. She isn't entirely sure, but she thinks sex is not something she should mention to her mother. Instead, she goes to her room and tells her teddy bear all about it.
She's just about reached the part with the sticking-in-business, when she looks up and sees her mother in the doorway.
"Rose," her mother says, but she doesn't sound angry, doesn't sound anything. "I don't think Mr. Tedopoulos has anything to stick with."
Later, her suggestions of making Mr. Tedopoulos one rather ignored, Rose gets a non-whispered account of sex, STDs, love, men-are-bastards-except-her-father-who-was-wonderful, how to kick a guy in the balls and what balls are. It all sounds very peculiar, and she has a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more to it. She goes to bed with much to think about, lying awake until her room is dark and no longer looks like the inside of a strawberry.
She hopes boys will become a little less stupid if she's going to be having all that sex in her life, and forgets about sex in the morning in the excitement of skipping school with Shareen.
She doesn't really notice her mother stops calling her 'my little girl'.
II
At fourteen, Rose Tyler gets snogged.
Brick wall at her back, clenched fists at her hips and Mickey Smith's tongue in her mouth. It's all very unexpectedly wet and his lips feel very, very large against hers and she almost can't breathe. But it is also a strange tingle in her head and the strange sensation whenever his tongue touches her. It might be pleasure.
Mickey Smith's always been trying to please her. She knows where she has him, except she didn't really expect to have him in her mouth today. Mickey is like Mr. Tedopoulos, except he definitely has something to stick with, judging from the slight pressure against her stomach. They're both cuddly and cheer her up when she cries and make her mother smile when she brings them with. Nothing special, but nothing wrong either.
Rose thinks she might like something more.
II
At fifteen, Rose Tyler gets shagged.
Hair in her mouth, Jimmy Stone's hands pinching her breasts and his breath panting almost like he's a dog. It's not wonderful. It's actually kind of dreadful, the weight of him too much and abdomen filled with a dull sort of ache that is at least better than the sharp pain at first.
But this is Jimmy Stone, exciting, popular Jimmy Stone in his leather jacket, the guy every girl wants to be with and he's with her. That is kind of wonderful. He's even written her a song. His band is going to perform it and everyone will know Rose Tyler is something special.
"Fuck, yeah," Jimmy says, and then it seems to be over and he rolls off her. She lies staring at the ceiling for a while, wondering if this is it, and why her mother would be doing it with Roger the postman if it was. Roger is not that hot and he always gets their post mixed up with the Walters' downstairs. Not that special at all.
"Wanna go again?" Jimmy says. She doesn't really, but Jimmy does, and she'll do anything for Jimmy. Even be on top when he asks her too, and then, then she begins to understand there might be a lot more.
She still doesn't understand the postman.
II
At nearly sixteen, Rose Tyler gets her heart broken.
Head against the pillow, sheets still smelling of him, listening to the silence that seems impossibly loud. He's gone and dumped her. He's gone and left her to go to Amsterdam with Noosh, who he's been shagging for weeks and thinks has better 'artistic vibes' than her. She wants to hate him, but that requires feeling anything, and that feels like too much right now.
He's left her. She left Mickey for him. Left school. Left her mum's. Now she's the one who's been left.
Arsehole. Bastard. Small-dicked shag zero. Wanker. She hopes Noosh leaves his dick so blue he can't even wank with it, in fact. She hates him. Hates him, hates, hates, hates! Good fucking riddance. She's so much better off without him and his wanting blowjobs in the morning. So much better.
It takes her a whole hour to stop crying and a whole more to summon up the courage to call her mother.
II
At sixteen, Rose Tyler uses a guy.
Fingers in her hair, eyes remaining closed, not for illusion's sake, but because it feels worse using him when she can see his blue eyes. His name is Colin or Carl or something, and he's sweet and cute and smiled at her after she came out of another disastrous job interview feeling a stupid failure with bad hair. Colin - or Carl - likes her hair. Doesn't think her a failure, either. Even offered her a few places she might try instead after she explained the debt she had to pay off.
Nothing wrong with kissing him as a thank you. Nothing wrong, except she's doing it because he's not Jimmy, and he's doing it because she's a nice girl with blonde hair he probably fancies. Carl - or Colin - wants more, she can tell from the way he's being so very careful when kissing her back. A guy just enjoying a snog from a stranger won't feel restrained. A guy hoping to see her again will.
She feels a little bad when she gives him the number to Ann Leslie at the butcher's instead of her own, but there's so much else to feel bad about in her life it soon fades and she never does remember if his name was Carl or Colin.
At the second place he told her off, she gets her job.
II
At seventeen, Rose Tyler goes for safe.
Mickey Smith's tongue in her ear, her fingers burrowing into his shoulder and his dick what feels like deep inside her, making her pant and writhe and buck, particularly when he uses his fingers too. Mickey's been learning. Mickey's been giving her looks since she came home. Mickey's been taking her out on dates, kissing her on the second, inviting her home on the fifth, seeing her naked after the tenth, having a fight with her on the twelfth, shagging her before, during and after the thirteenth.
This is a Proper Relationship. She's got a job, he's got a job, they share lunches and weekends and sometimes sick days. He indulges her Mr. Tedopoulos. She indulges his football matches. She still lives with her mum, but she's not hurrying off to live with a guy this time. She's learned. She loves Mickey Smith and Mickey Smith loves her. This is going to be right.
She's not sure what the lure of wrong ever was.
II
At nineteen, Rose Tyler meets the Doctor.
Hand in his hand, running from mannequins, heart pounding in her chest so hard it feels like she's running to drums. As first meetings go, it's certainly a memorable one. The second isn't bad either, and the third comes with a proposal she should really say no to. Really.
After all, he's a stranger, looking middle-aged and sounding more crazy than Aunt Jenny's theories on aliens in the city council. And still, still he has something she can't put her finger on and finds she'd like to certainly put her mouth on. He's not classically handsome, doesn't seem to act with any awareness of sexuality except when he suddenly does, smiles brightly with dark eyes and seems to have a gravity of his own, bringing objects into orbit around him without really bringing them close.
The Doctor. She's not sure if she wants to shag him, smack him, stick by him or sedate him. Maybe all four at once.
For now, the third option will do.
II
At nineteen and much TARDIS time, Rose Tyler starts to hate self-control.
His body close, the smell of leather jacket filling her nose, every part of her body from the head down longing to slam him into a wall and ram her tongue down his throat until she knows if Time Lords have tonsils. Some parts of her head too, come to think of it. Just not the ones currently in charge.
Because this is not a sexual thing. It's not. It's much more. It's not about shagging. He's alien. He might not even like sex, for all she knows. She does know he loves everything enough to try to save it. He's old, much older than he looks. He's damaged in a way she can only vaguely guess. He doesn't let her too close, and at the same time seems to cling to her. It's enough to make her feel powerful. Powerful enough to test it.
He doesn't yell at her after she's nearly killed the world for her father, but she can tell he wants to. Can tell the Doctor has an iron self-control himself, only slipping occasionally, and she wonders what hides behind it.
Wonders, wants and waits, thinking of the feel of leather against skin only when her own control slacks a little.
II
At nearing twenty, Rose Tyler learns human sexuality is not at all as she was taught.
Heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, all little labels. Jack tears them up. Or he would, if he understood them. He just is sex, treating getting a shag as most treat having a meal.
Rose has egg rolls at a local Earth Specialities R' Us on Colony Five; Jack sleeps with a woman as bald as an egg. The Doctor takes her for tea in ancient China; Jack nearly gets them killed shagging the Emperor. The TARDIS accidentally lands them in the middle of a Velucian Feast; Jack plays sandwich with two Velucians. The Doctor feeds her Swedish meatballs on the planet Sweden; Jack looks at them both as if he could lick spaghetti sauce off them with pleasure.
Jack is no couple's fifth wheel, making his own place everywhere, even between Rose and the Doctor, and neither minds.
II
At as old as time, the TARDIS and Rose Tyler share.
Suns in her head, life in one palm, death in another, Rose learns. Learns what the TARDIS knows, what the Doctor suspects, what humans ignore. Learns and hurts, because time doesn't know emotion as it kills, but she does. Oh, she does, and maybe the TARDIS does too, or maybe it just learns from her, being her.
It feels like a thousand times sex, sharing body, being filled with time until her skin feels made of it. Everyone's skin is made of it, and she can tear it off. Life is just atoms. Atoms part.
Atoms join. Gravity and orbit and banging together, life as small to humans as humans are to time. So very small, Rose's mind feels. So much time trying to find space. Too much. She can feel everything. It's not wonderful. It's actually kind of dreadful.
And then he takes it away, and that's dreadful too, Sleeping Beauty reversed.
She forgets. The TARDIS remembers. The Doctor changes.
II
At the last day of nineteen, Rose Tyler gets possessive.
Another blonde, another hand, another life in the orbit of the Doctor. For a little while. She's not mad at Reinette, not really. Not when they've shared something as intimate as the Doctor. Isn't mad at Sarah-Jane, either. And she knows the Doctor isn't hers. She knows. Really. He's not her husband, not her lover, nothing really romantic like that. She shouldn't therefore feel cheated on.
She does.
Whatever he shared with Reinette, it feels like something she should have a right to as well.
II
At twenty, Rose Tyler finally nails an alien.
His cock, texture so human, smell of not quite, feeling of definitely not. She can't even properly explain how it is not, it just isn't. It's imitation of human, not human. He does fit inside her, he does have hair everywhere he should to the point of it tickling her, he does thrust into her with the impatience of most males, even if it has odd pauses. But he never closes his eyes, he narrates everything he does with biological facts (at least she she can't snog him silent), spends two hours on foreplay and his orgasm seems to involve anything but ejaculation. Time stutters, his eyes shine with stars, his skin burns so much it hurts to touch and the TARDIS crashes.
This is shagging the Doctor, then. She's forgotten why it was supposed to be such a bad idea, and when he grins and flips her over onto her stomach and keeps talking, she thinks he must've too.
II
At twenty, Rose Tyler remembers boys are still stupid.
Hands in his pockets, hair still a mess from the wind of the angry Atlantic ocean they've left behind, he is just calmly looking at her. Mickey would've fled until her mood had improved, Jimmy would've started singing until she had to smile. The Doctor just looks at her, not defending himself as she rages at him.
'When you sleep with someone, you sleep with everyone they've ever slept with', a nurse told her once. The Doctor has now slept with Mickey and Jimmy. She thinks she's possibly slept with Reinette and maybe Sarah Jane. All she wants to know is who else. All she wants to know is how she fits into it. All she wants to know is how he feels.
Boys are stupid. They never say.
"Rose," the Doctor says calmly, his brown eyes as intensely looking at her as his blue once did. "You already know."
"So?"
He takes her hand, and this time it's her who stares at him.
"So everything," he says, and kisses her until her anger merges with desire and she has him up against the console, hard, fast and pissed off, fucking more than making love.
Boys are very, very stupid. But so are girls.
II
At twenty-one, Rose Tyler gets fucked over.
Image faded, her mother holding her, all she can think is that he never said. He's left her, or rather the Universe have torn them apart, and she can't know. He never said. He shared his life with her, kissed her, shagged her, broke her heart and still never said.
Wanker, wanker, wanker. Arsehole of an alien. She loves him. Loves, loves, loves. This isn't fair. She doesn't even have stupid Mr. Tedopoulos to cry to, because she's stranded in another bloody universe and her room isn't pink and there's no sound of the TARDIS to wait for and nothing is like it was. She's not even pregnant, even if she made him think so for a moment, just to see how he would react. She has nothing to keep that was his.
She's going to be so much better off without him, her mum keeps insisting. Just like she did with Jimmy. It might even be true.
Rose still decides to get herself something to remember him by.
II
At twenty-three, Rose Tyler meets Henry Miller.
Brown eyes, curly hair, smile that is infectious. All good mood is Henry, even when she first rejects him. Henry has time to wait. Henry doesn't wear Chucks and can't understand why she always does. Henry thinks the world should just save itself. Henry is patient. Henry asks her out for weeks and finally gets a yes. Henry is funny and full of laughs. Henry makes her happy. Henry kisses her and she doesn't mind, his kiss tasting of gum and spring.
She can't be cold forever, she considers.
Henry is sweet. Henry sleeps with her, gets her pregnant, marries her, even if her job is chasing aliens and protecting the Earth and will always come before him. Henry says he doesn't mind.
Rose Tyler Miller doesn't believe him. She's learned.
II
At twenty-nine, Rose Tyler Miller gets a divorce.
Two kids, a house, two cars and a cat get divided and settled with ink on paper, and afterwards, they stand in the hallway together, only their shadows touching. It feels strange how much distance there can be to a guy she once let have full run of her vagina, really. She did love him, at least she thinks it was love. Maybe it was just need and it stopped. Maybe it was love, and that stopped too.
"That's it, then," Henry says, voice tired. "I'll come and pick up Jack and Jamie on Friday."
"Yeah," she agrees, and when he walks off, she doesn't look after him.
II
At thirty, Rose Tyler gets seduced.
Skin to skin, Mickey is familiar. She knows he's using her because he's mad at Jake. He knows she's using him because the body has certain needs. What's a little screwing between friends, after all? She lets him kiss her, lets him lead her to his bed, lets him find some sort of comfort in sex. She knows it's a hollow sort of comfort, much like wearing the same brand of shoes the love of your life did just to feel like you still share something.
Sometimes, hollow is all you get.
Afterwards, they share a beer and a comfortable silence, at least until Jake comes home.
In the end, she lets Jake seduce her too, for fairness' sake.
II
At thirty-three, Rose Tyler tries to give her kids sex-ed.
Uncomfortable silence and unhelpful illustrations until she gives up and calls her mum, who marches in with textbooks and iron will and doesn't even let the boys' squirming distract her. Rose listens from the living room, and notes the vocabulary has grown more colourful since she had hers. It all seems such a long time ago, so many hearts and shags ago. Jimmy, Mickey, the Doctor, Henry, Mickey, Jake, Jake and Mickey, Rupert the postman, Dan from work and those still to come. She's sure there will be some.
She's pretty sure none of them will last. Forever is a teenage illusion she indulged and the Doctor let her.
When Jack and Jamie looks over at her with wide eyes, she knows she won't have them forever either. They're growing up.
She's growing old.
II
At fifty-three, Rose Tyler loses her mother.
Cold October day, rain falling, the priest's words just merging into incompressible notes. Pete holds an eulogy, talking about second chances and miracles and how much he loved her and how he hopes she knew. Gwen Tyler says a few words too, talking about her wonderful mother until she can't speak for tears.
Rose doesn't cry. Her mum has lived a good life, loved twice over. Not everyone gets back the love of their life. Hardly anyone at all. Jackie Tyler was lucky. Nothing to cry about.
Rose hasn't been, but when Jack and Jamie both take her hand, the permanent reminders that she once shagged and loved Henry Miller, just like she is the same of Pete and Jackie Tyler, she thinks she didn't do too bad after all. She's raised them well, too. Her mum would've been proud.
Her mum will never get to say that.
When she has put Jackie and Jamie to bed in the evening, she doesn't stop crying for an hour and there's no one to call.
II
At seventy, Rose Tyler knows she's dying.
Ache deep in her bones, faint burn in back of her mind, she knows. The doctors all try to reassure her, but she's learned pretty well to spot when a doctor is lying. So she lets them admit her to hospital, and sneaks out at night in Chucks and nightgown.
She doesn't want to die somewhere that white. She doesn't want to die at all, not when Jamie is about to have his first kid and Jack is in some sort of trouble even if he pretends not to be. But time has no compassion and wouldn't understand pleading, so she might as well take the defeat gracefully.
It's a dark night, stars clear, and she sits watching then, remembering travelling among them. She hasn't forgotten. She's moved on, but she hasn't forgotten.
"I know you loved me, you know," she tells the shoes. "I still would've liked to hear, you bloody wanker. Maybe you thought it went without saying. Maybe you love everything and find the words discriminating. Maybe you thought shagging me said it well enough. Maybe you were just a coward."
She thinks about it, but her head hurts, and she's tired, so tired. She's just going to sit here, on the grass, under the stars, listening to the wind in the trees howling like a distant wolf. It smells like rain is coming. She hope it doesn't soak her. She only bought her shoes yesterday.
It's nice to have something new in all the old.
It does rain at dawn, and by then, only her body is left and it doesn't complain.
II
At eight, Rose Miller asks her father Jack Tyler Miller about sex and he wishes he had a mother he could call. He still does his best with a lecture on sex, STDs, love, men-are-bastards-except-those-your-father-tells-you-are-not, how to kick a guy in the balls and what balls are.
Rose is pretty sure there's more to it.
She'll learn she's right.
FIN
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Date: 2006-10-20 11:45 am (UTC)