All for the lovely: @a-rose-by-any-other-doctor @dwsecretsanta
Read on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925084/chapters/52331086
Annoyed that he must help fund UNIT by schmoozing, the Fourth Doctor picks up a mysterious date by the side of the road.
Rose’s eyes opened. Sitting up, she turned to view the Doctor’s dark eyes. He was blinking as the connection between them was severed by her quick movements. “Oh, that was,” the Doctor murmured.
“You kissed me!” Rose exclaimed, giggling. “It took you forever to kiss me the first time and that version of you did it in less than four hours.”
“Well, I was a bit of a flirt, in that incarnation.”
“In *that* incarnation?” Rose asked, brows arching.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “I’m not always… so…”
“Interested in all that… romance… It’s unusual.” Awkwardly, the Doctor tugged on his ear, not bothering to get up from his position against the headboard. “Timelords aren’t… we don’t do romance. I mean they didn’t. I sometimes…”
Rose covered his mouth. “It’s okay. I liked it.”
The Doctor huffed warm breath against her hand. Rose snorted, removing her hand before he decided to lick her palm. His eyes twinkled with mischief as if he had been thinking of licking her palm and was a bit thwarted by her moving it away.
“Alright,” Rose said, turning around and laying back against him. “Ready for the next one?”
His fingers resumed their place against her temples. “Oh, erm, this one’s mine, I think, not yours… You may remember it already.”
“How do you know?” Rose asked, enjoying the closeness and the heat radiating from him as they basically cuddled. “Is there a note on it or something?”
“No, it feels like me, like a memory from the one with the scarf… Only way to find out is to open it up.” He wiggled his fingers, tickling her. She puffed out a breath in annoyance but she didn’t mean it. He ignored it anyhow, pressing until she felt his mind swirling around hers again, an excited feeling rushing through him as he whispered the next word on his list.
Rose felt irritation filling her up, plus a healthy dose of ego and her brain was almost flooded with thousands of lines of thought. The feeling was tamped down apologetically, as Rose temporarily became the Doctor on Earth somewhere in the early 80s? Or late 70s? The Doctor hadn’t been paying attention to the time ironically.
“Absolutely not! I’m a Timelord! Not some Cigarette Rep from Leeds,” the Doctor shouted.
Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart’s eyebrows quirked up, making his ridiculous mustache quiver like a particularly annoying rabbit. The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly, wondering if shouting a bit more would help. It did, sometimes. Sheepish, he hunched his shoulders. “I won’t go,” he said petulantly. “Sarah’s not going. I have a working time machine now and I don’t work for you anymore, so there.”
“Doctor, this isn’t a sales summit. The top scientists are all meeting in London to mingle and garner money for various projects,” the brigadier said, tone patronizing and long-suffering.
“And as much as it pains me to say so with your enormous ego, you are the most intelligent scientist on Earth,” he continued as if the Doctor was not sulking. “I realize Miss Smith is unavailable since I was the one who sent her out to cover the story in Aberdeen. UNIT needs the backing. We’re seriously lacking in budget here.”
The Doctor had noticed the drop off in biscuit selection lately around the HQ. He didn’t like that one bit. And… he had nothing on. Just… waiting around to convince Sarah to take another jaunt into Time and Space. “Why should I care about money?” he demanded, determined not to give in easily. He couldn’t let the brigadier know he could be persuaded by biscuits. It was undignified.
“We both know you have nothing to do but wait for Miss Smith to come back…”
“Not true!” he shouted. (It was.) “Patently untrue!” he boomed. “Oh fine! Perhaps one of the scientists will be a megalomaniac. Worth a look, eh? Sh!” he put his finger against his lips to forestall the brigadier. “I want double the pay for this. Put it in Sarah’s account. She knows what I like. And I will drive myself.”
“Fine. But you’ll take a car. I don’t want you taking off in that box of yours and missing the meeting by several decades.”
“Fine,” the Doctor agreed, hand out for the invitation. “It’s a lovely day for a drive.” He beamed.
He stormed out of the office for good measure. Very soon he was going to cut ties with this place. His feet were itchy. Sarah’s were too. She was a good one for his life. Shame Harry would probably balk but not everyone was cut out for a nomadic lifestyle. Trailing his long multi-colored scarf behind him, he stalked out to his yellow roadster.
The road was empty as he cruised along muttering about all the planets he was going to show to Sarah Jane Smith. Clom, the Eye of Orion, Calibris, oh yes, a pirate planet would be a lovely trip! He needed some backup fluid links, the damned things were always evaporating on him. So wrapped up in his musings, he nearly hit the young woman who blinked into existence a foot in front of his car. The Doctor was a marvelous driver if he did say so himself, and managed to cut the wheel hard enough to avoid injuring her. He didn’t miss the ditch on the side of the road, however. Slamming the car into park, he stared. She had stumbled forward as if he had run straight into this dimension. The energy around her smelled like ozone and artron. Her timelines were an absolute labyrinth. He closed his timesenses before a migraine could set in. “Well, aren’t we a complicated event in space-time,” he exclaimed.
She turned to face him. Slight with blonde hair, her large eyes locked onto him and her generous mouth pulled up into a charmingly delightful devil-may-care grin. “Sort of, yeah,” she agreed with a laugh. “I’m looking for a friend.”
“Are you indeed?” the Doctor wondered aloud. “My friend is in Aberdeen.”
She snorted. She was dressed in clothes reminiscent of the 2000s with her dark, form-fitting trousers, pink top and indigo leather jacket. She had a utilitarian black backpack on and something about her stance reminded him of a dancer or a martial artist. “I’m not sure my friend knows the difference between Hyde Park and Aberdeen.”
What a curious creature! What a strange sentence to utter? He made a face, considering. “It looks as if we’re both short a friend for today. I suppose that means we should join forces. I’ve got to go to a boring event full of clever people who are alas, not as clever as me. Care to accompany me? I’ve been told there will be nibbles.” The Doctor extended the invitation in the hope of learning more about this curious creature. “Unless you’re part of the vanguard for an invasion fleet? No? Pity.”
Her grin tugged at his hearts. She came closer, examining his car. “Retro,” she commented, petting Bessie. He offered her a hand. She clasped it and allowed him to help her into the car. Her skin was warm, calloused and let him know she ran a bit hot and had enough artron energy inside her small form to power a Rutan ship for several months. A wash of comfort ran through him when she squeezed his fingers before releasing them.
Confused he focused on getting the car out of the ditch and back onto the road.
“I’m from London, originally,” she offered after a few minutes of open road. “This one I think, although it looks a bit…80’s right now.” She made a face and shrugged.
“I’m the Doctor,” he offered. “But I have a feeling you might know me, already.”
Her smile was enigmatic. “I suspected what with the scarf. You really love your layers, don’t you Doctor?” she asked and ran a hand down his scarf, giving it a playful tug.
“I’m not unfamiliar with the phenomena of meeting people before you’ve met them. I’m a time traveler after all,” the Doctor told her. “It’s practically in the brochure. Ah ha. And believe me, I’m sure I will enjoy making your acquaintance again in the future but until such time as time rights itself or rewrites itself, what shall I call you? It’s simply rude to keep addressing you in my head as young woman and out loud, even more so…”
“And you’re never rude,” she said solicitously and the Doctor got the distinct impression that this young woman was mocking him. “Sorry Doctor, you’re right. You can call me Rose, erm, Smith.”
“Smith?” the Doctor snorted. “That’s perfect. I often go by John Smith when I’m undercover.”
“S’good name, Smith. Had a few good friends named Smith in my time. Love the curls by the way.” Rose reached out a hand and looped one of his curls around her finger. The Doctor’s eyes widened in surprise. She winked. “We can pretend to be a couple. For your party…”
He fell silent. Rose stayed in his personal space, comfortable with him in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable in how not uncomfortable it was. Her presence seemed to sooth an ache in his hearts he wasn’t aware of having. Curious. “Is that what we are in the future? A couple?”
Rose’s expression was solemn. “You tell me, Doctor Smith.”
“Aaahhh, Mrs. Smith, you intrigue me,” he bantered back.
Silence reigned as the Doctor took them to the hotel on the invitation. Rose opened her bag, searching through it. She pulled out a simple black dress and a pair of basic kitten heels. She slipped her jacket off and tossed the dress on over her magenta top, then while his eyes tried to stay on the road, she removed the top leaving her in the dress and trousers. She settled the black fabric into place and shucked the trousers.
“Right,” Rose said and pulled a nude pair out of her back. She shimmied into them and had her shoes on in seconds. Her hair was up in a loose chignon by the time they reached the valet. Her eyes which were the most delicate shade of amber with flecks of green and gold twinkled when he hopped out and offered her a hand down. She left her bag in the car.
They approached the lobby and the Doctor brandished his invitation. “Doctor, and Mrs. Smith, UNIT.” The man barely glanced at the invitation before letting them inside. His eyes had been glued to Rose’s assets. Rose rolled her eyes and hooked an arm through his. The Doctor felt a frizzle of anger toward the man who let them in. Rose squeezed his bicep.
“Dimensional traveler, who has a bag full of occasional wear, Rose Smith, I think I’ve married well.” he teased.
Rose’s eyes were on the swirl of people. Many were dressed in dresses similar to hers. The men wore suits and some had the nerve to wear bowties! The Doctor wasn’t interested in changing his frock for the brigadier’s stuffy friends. She grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and offered him one. “Is it Christmas?” Rose asked.
“Near enough, it’s the thirteenth of December,” the Doctor replied then spotted a familiar face. “Harry! Over here.”
Harry Sullivan waved. Rose’s eyes sparkled with interest as the naval doctor extricated himself from a conversation with a few men in ill-fitting suits to approach them. “Doctor, old boy, how did the brigadier convince you to come to this convention of stuffed shirts?”
“Nibbles,” Rose exclaimed and pointed, her accent becoming a bit more London as she went on, “He told you there would be nibbles and you couldn’t resist, c’mon, admit it, Doctor!” She sipped her champagne, giggling. He arched his brows at her.
“She’s got you there, old boy,” Harry said giving Rose a once over, no doubt wondering where Sarah was. The trio had been inseparable lately. “And you are?”
“Harry Sullivan, this is Rose. She’s not local.”
“Shows what you know, mate. My job is going to be built down the street from here in a few years,” she whispered.
“Oh, oh,” Harry remarked stupidly. “Charmed.”
Rose grinned and let Harry take her hand and kiss the knuckles. “You’re adorable.”
“Rose,” he grumbled and just like that Rose slipped her arm back through his.
Harry looked between the Doctor and Rose. “No hope of an invasion tonight, is there?”
The Doctor scanned the crowd. There were a few Zygons pretending to be scientists but nothing too sinister. “No,” he said in his most dolorous tone.
“Well then, I’m going to mingle, eh? Get those UNIT coffers filled. Nice to meet you, Rose. Doctor, don’t go anywhen without me.” He winked.
The Doctor perked up. “Oh no, of course not Harry.”
“I’ll see you when the old girl gets back?” he asked.
Positively giddy at the prospect of Harry traveling with them, the Doctor bobbed his head. “If she hears you calling her that, you may never get the chance to travel with us.”
Harry laughed and swirled away into the crowd. He was immediately absorbed into a large group of scientists and doctors. Rose had grabbed gingerbread man off a tray and bit its head off. The scent of ginger made him a bit lightheaded. She offered him a bite and smirked.
They socialized. Rose was knowledgeable, friendly, and talked pennies out of pockets like an heiress. The Doctor was broiling with curiosity. Her skin was flushed a bit with drink. Her giggling was louder and more adorable now. She kept offering him ginger laced things. They ate at Harry’s table and he regaled Rose with stories from the navy and in low tones about how he met the Doctor. Rose whispered something to him that made Harry nod enthusiastically and whisper back something that had Rose in stitches. Jealousy wormed around in his stomach. It was a foreign emotion. He shook his head to clear it and snapped at an archeologist.
Rose’s hand slipped into his under the table. The beast within was soothed. The Doctor’s confusion grew. Rose offered him a smile with her tongue caught between her teeth and his hearts raced. Confused, he glanced away from her and tried to open his senses to her again. The timelines were a mangled nightmare around her. Some of the lines snapped and snarled back. Dizziness crept up his spine. Rose pinched him. “Not here. You’ll get a headache.”
He nodded. She offered him a piece of spice cake. Rose smirked. He could smell the ginger in it. The conversation flowed around them so he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “why are you trying to get me drunk?”
“I want to dance,” Rose said offered, her eyes too bright. “I thought… you might if you were a bit… stupid. Sorry. S’just, I know you’re not the right You for me but you’re still You and I missed this.” A glimpse of pain and sadness appeared in those fathomless amber eyes before the flecks swirled and Rose was smiling again. “Stupid.”
“I’m an excellent dancer,” he offered.
“I’ve never seen you dance,” Harry said in surprise. “I haven’t! Mind you, I have seen him jump rope in a harlequin costume so I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Rose’s laugh was genuine. The Doctor beamed. He swiped a gingerbread man off a biscuit tray and nibbled on an arm. “On Sarton X the people are made of shoganals. Eating gingerbread there is tantamount to cannibalism.”
A fond look crossed Rose’s features. The warmth of it spread from her to him. The music kicked up. They stood. The Doctor offered her his arm and Rose came to him. They drifted out to the dance floor. Swaying gently to the music, the ginger increased the warmth he was feeling as the human woman in his arms acted as if she belonged there.
“How long have you been looking for me, Rose?” he asked.
“All my life,” she teased, side-stepping the question. “Really Doctor, you know better than to ask about your future.”
“How about now? How long are you staying here?” he asked. “In this time or dimension?”
Rose leaned against him, her head against his chest. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she was smelling him. “Two hours left, then I try again tomorrow to find you.”
“You’ve found me. I’m right here.” the Doctor said practically. “I can take you to me.”
Rose’s eyes lit up then faded. “I’m sure you would tell me that I can’t mess with your timeline. I could change things so that we never meet.”
“Pfaw, I would never,” he grumbled, knowing she was right. “The risk is slight. My Tardis could take you to his Tardis.”
“I’d end up in Aberdeen,” she muttered. “No. I have to find the right you, in the right time. What if this dimension is the wrong one? I can’t take the risk.” Rose was so close that they were hugging more than dancing.
“Nonsense, dimensional travel is as simple as setting the stabilizers… As long as those idiots on Gallifrey don’t decide to detour us, we could be there in minutes, seconds. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve met myself…”
Rose didn’t respond. She just let him move her around the floor.
“Who are you to me?” the Doctor asked in a hushed tone.
She shrugged. “Can’t we just enjoy the party?”
They ended up on the roof. Rose had retrieved her bag from the car. He would be going back to UNIT alone. She had a few minutes left. He watched her. “I barely know you and I can’t help wanting to keep you here,” he confessed.
Rose was wearing his scarf. She’d had to loop it around her neck several times and it still trailed on the ground. “Oh, you’ll be alright. Sarah Jane will take care of you.”
“Sarah’s my best friend,” the Doctor said warmly even though he had barely thought about her after picking up Rose. Now the image of Sarah in his scarf superimposed itself over Rose and he felt a pang of annoyance with himself.
“Oh, I know,” Rose replied with a knowing smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Doctor asked, reaching for her. “Tell me something about you…”
She glanced at her watch. “Oh, what the hell! I’ve still got a minute to go.” Rose dove into his arms. Rising up on tiptoes, she pressed warm lips against his. Surprised, he wrapped his long arms around her, practically lifting her up so she could continue kissing him. The pleasant warmth he’d been feeling all night exploded into a confusing array of emotions and feelings. Her lips were smooth, soft, and hot against his cooler ones. The taste of ginger hit him and the crisp bite of the champagne as she deepened the kiss, her fingers sliding into his curls to ravage them. Hearts racing, he hadn’t expected a kiss to unsettled him.
She let go just as his respiratory bypass kicked in. Laughing, she unlooped the scarf and wrapped it back around him. Her cheeks were a delightful pink, lips swollen and eyes practically glowing golden. “That’s all you need to know about me,” she said.
“It’s gonna be fantastic.”
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