Show- Ship- Doctor Who. Ten/Rose, Doctor(?)/Rose
Prompt- #5- Raina nd Question Mark Umbrella's.
Disclaimer- Dance puppets dance. Mwah hah hah hah. Ahem.
Summary- The Doctor tells Rose that it isn't monsoon season for weeks. He's a Time Lord, of course his sense of timing is never out. Right?
A/N- Final Happy!Who fic. I did it. 25 Happy fics. Go me.
Rose cursed the Doctor as she stumbled along the streets, her soaking wet denim jacket and jeans dragging her down with their weight, dripping onto the paving slabs and mixing with the drops still falling from the sky.
She pushed the straggly wet strands of blonde hair from her face and blinked, trying to see through the sheeted rain.
“It’s only a shower, Rose,” she mocked in the Doctor’s strident tones. “You’ll be fine; monsoon season isn’t for another few weeks.”
She shook her head.
Really she only had herself to blame. She knew that the Doctor’s time keeping was less than reliable—non-existent more like—and, as a Time Lord, he was less effective than a broken clock when it came to being accurate.
But she was still going to have a go at him when she got back to the TARDIS.
It was the principle of the thing.
If she got back.
The deluge was so thick that she could hardly see two feet in front of her, let alone be able to see down each dark alley to find the large blue box which signified home; and really, when it came down to it, all dark alleys looked the same; dark and alley-like.
She sighed and immediately wished she hadn’t as she choked on about a pint of tepid rain water.
That was it.
First call: find shelter.
Second call: dry out mobile and ring the Doctor to come and find her.
Third call: strangle the Doctor.
Rose was so intent on looking for shelter that she didn’t even see the man until she’d bumped into him and knocked herself to the floor.
She sat in a puddle and decided to torture the Doctor before she strangled him; it was only fair.
“Are you quite all right, young lady?”
She spat out a mouthful of water. “Yeah. Just … enjoying the weather.”
There was a chuckle above her and suddenly she was out of the rain.
Rose blinked up at the originator of the laugh and only just managed to hold back her instinctive double-take at his strange attire.
Ignoring, for a moment, the huge black umbrella with the question mark handle in deep red which was sheltering her from the worst of the storm; there was the odd bowler hat with the tartan ribbon, the cream jacket and v-neck jumper, again with question marks.
He smiled down at her and held out a hand. “I think you’ll find that death by drowning is very uncomfortable.”
“Good point,” Rose said and scrambled to her feet. “Thanks.”
“Now, I think it would be advantageous for us to get out of this … shower, don’t you?”
Shower? Rose surreptitiously rolled her eyes.
Men, they were all mad.
But mad or not he seemed to be able to see through the sheets of water and offered his arm to Rose as they ambled down the streets.
“So, I may well ask what you’re doing on Kiriazis in Monsoon season without so much as an umbrella. But I won’t.”
“Good,” Rose smiled at his quaint way of speaking. “I’d only have to lie to you.”
“Ah yes,” said the odd little man. “And any relationship based on a lie is doomed from the start. Just ask Pinocchio. Sad little fellow, terribly conscious about his nose.”
Rose snorted and then looked away quickly. “But, seriously, thanks for the rescue. I think I’d’ve drowned otherwise.”
“Ah, a serious thanks.” He beamed at her, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve often wondered if a serious thanks is more adequate than a humorous thanks. What, indeed, does it gain by seriousness?”
“Sincerity?” she offered and he laughed out loud, delighted by her contribution.
“Of course, my dear. But when you think—”
Rose was well used to having this sort of internal debate with the Doctor and just let the man carry on. There was something comforting about him, almost Uncle-ish.
“I think we’ve found our little haven away from the storm.”
Rose squinted, peering through the rain to where a white gazebo stood in a pavilion. It looked unstable and beaten, its paint peeling off and tattered.
But at least it was shelter.
The man shook his umbrella out and draped it over his arm looking for all the world like a man out for a stroll on a Sunday lunch time.
He turned to Rose as she shook off her jacket and tried to wring the water out of it.
“Although I don’t want to seem too presumptuous, are you in some kind of danger?”
Rose was taken aback. “No, why?”
He shrugged. “Oh, it’s just my way. I always seem to discover people in danger or doomed or on the run, or in grave peril. I’d say it’s a gift except it’s as welcome as coal in a stocking.”
Rose grinned. “Well, the only danger I was in was that I was about to turn into a duck.”
The man nodded. “Dreadfully tragic when that happens. I’ve seen it may times. You do know what that’s called, don’t you?”
“Don’t be silly.”
Rose sobered, chastened and he beamed.
“It’s Acute Mallard Malaise.” They both broke into laughter. “I take it you’re from Earth?” He asked and Rose nodded
“Nowhere near and yet so very close. In the vicinity, minus a few hundred light years.” He stared at the fragile structure around him. “We could pass the whole storm out here; it’ll only take a few days.”
“No thanks,” Rose apologised. “My … friend will come and get me.”
“Through this?” He scoffed. “Is he a magician? Or does he have a huge umbrella?”
“Not as big as yours,” Rose said, eyeing the hanging object. “But he will come and get me. Of course then you’ll find that someone in danger.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna kill him.” She replied cheerfully. “He told me that monsoon season wasn’t for another few weeks yet.”
“Slight miscalculation,” the man allowed. “And how will he know where to find you?”
Rose dug into her pockets and pulled out her phone.
“My dear, even if the contraption isn’t water-logged it is very unlikely that it will work in this atmosphere. Too may electrolytes.”
Rose merely smiled. “My friend came first in jiggery-pokery.” She pressed the number for the TARDIS and tried to listen through the rain.
It was answered on the third ring. “Rose?”
“Who else would be calling?”
“Rose Tyler, where have you been? I’ve been waiting ages. I was getting worried.”
Rose glared at the phone. “You’ve only just noticed I’ve gone, haven’t you?”
There was a sheepish silence. “I have missed you.”
His voice was too low and she strained to hear him. “What?”
“Where are you?” he asked. “Sounds like a rock concert. Lots of traffic? Are having fun?”
“It’s raining,” she replied flatly and heard a snigger from behind her. The man didn’t even pretend he wasn’t listening and Rose winked conspiratorially.
“Bit of a shower is it?” the Doctor asked and she could hear something metallic ping. He was still playing with the TARDIS.
“Bit of a… have you looked outside?”
“No, you know very well, I’ve been busy with—”
She interrupted what would probably be a long winded explanation of exactly what he was currently butchering in the TARDIS. “Put down the Vector Tracker and go look.”
“Honestly Rose, this is very—”
There were several footsteps and a sudden boom. “Ah.”
The Doctor paused. “Are you very wet?”
“Are you very mad?”
Rose waited. “Well?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on a foreign planet stuck in the middle of monsoon season,” she snapped. “I can’t see two feet in front of me. How the hell am I supposed to know where I am? Everything looks the same. Wet.”
The man put a hand over his mouth and laughed openly.
“All right, all right,” The Doctor whined. “No need to shout! I’ll triangulate the phone frequency.”
The man leaned over to Rose. “You can tell your friend that you are in geographic locale K891-64R, if that helps his navigation system.”
Rose smiled her thanks even as the Doctor spoke up abruptly. “Who was that? Rose, are you okay? Is someone else there? Who’s he?”
Rose rolled here eyes. Her Doctor had been very overprotective since the business with the Wire and her face.
His hand constantly sought hers; he was constantly touching her and just checking to make sure she was there. It was as endearing as it was annoying. “He’s a very nice man who helped me out of the flood.”
“Just call me Noah,” laughed the man.
“He says we are at locale K891-64R, if that helps.”
There was silence for a moment. “It does actually. Be there in a tick.”
Rose switched off the phone. “He’ll be here soon.”
“He didn’t seem particularly delighted to hear there was someone with you.” He observed. “One might say possessive?”
“Oh, he just worries,” Rose brushed it off. “Regular mother hen he is.”
“Boyfriend?” he asked generally.
“No.” Rose bit her lip. “Best friend. It’s a bit of a weird relationship to define.”
“See, most everyone we meet thinks we’re a couple, but we’re not. Not really.”
Rose sighed. “I don’t.”
“He’s your best friend and yet he’s jealous over your time and actions. Classic man in love symptoms,” he added sagely.
Rose just shrugged. “He’ll never say. We don’t work like that. Love, yeah, but in love?” She shrugged again. “Dunno. Like I said, it’s complicated. He’s not my boyfriend, he’s better than that but can’t ever be that. In fact,” she laughed, “If anyone ever called him a boyfriend I think he’d, like, implode or something. Doesn’t do domestic.”
“And yet he’s coming to fetch you?” he scoffed. “That’s domesticated, if you ask me.”
“God, don’t tell him that!” Rose chuckled. “He’d go mental!”
“Hmm, love isn’t known for its rationality.”
Rose thought back to the first Doctor and the way he went to pieces over her safety. “Well, he’s mellowed a bit. He used to be really bad, wouldn’t let me out of his sight and all. He’s much better now.”
“Glad to hear it.” He looked up at the dilapidated gazebo and sighed. “I hate this. It reminds me of a bus station. I loathe bus stations. They are full of lost luggage and lost souls.”
Rose stared at him and then shrugged. “Better than a train station.”
The man actively shuddered. “Ghastly things.”
“I know, them bings that they do to tell you a train is coming always used to freak me out.”
“Me too,” he paused, “if ‘freak me out’ has the connotations I think it does.”
Rose smiled and then, at the edge of her hearing could hear the thrum of the TARDIS engine. “Anyone waiting for you? Anyone be worried cuz I’m sure we could offer you a lift.”
“That’s very kind, my dear, but I like walking in the rain, it gives me a chance to think. I have my best ideas in the rain.” He tapped his umbrella and Rose nodded.
She turned her head toward the sound of splashing footsteps and grinned as the familiar for of the Doctor splashed his way over, a manic grin on his face. His boyish charm never ceased to make her feel better and Rose found herself ignoring her own advice to be mad at him and just basked in the fact that he was there.
“It’s raining!” he announced gleefully and twirled his umbrella over his head like a child.
“Really?” Rose opened her eyes wide. “I couldn’t tell.”
”Ah, it’s special powers of observation.” He laughed as he jumped into the gazebo and looked her over, eyes lingering and warm. “Rose Tyler, you look like a drowned rat.”
“A beautiful drowned rat,” he hastily back-peddled, “really, very attractively drowned. Highly enticing to other…”
“Just stop,” Rose allowed and he sighed in relief, handing her the umbrella.
Rose took it, something tugging at her attention even as he shrugged out of his long brown coat.
He draped the coat around her shoulders and tucked it in tight, making sure she was covered and pulled her to him in a hug.
“Have you home, warm and dry in a minute,” he promised into her ear and the shivers she felt had nothing to do with the cold rain. He rubbed her back and stepped back slightly, glancing over his shoulder to where the man stood.
“Oh, Doctor this is—” but the Doctor had gone very still and Rose faltered, tightening her grip on the smooth red handle of the umbrella.
The black umbrella.
With a question mark handle.
She looked between the Doctor and her rescuer and his umbrella and hers.
Her Doctor grinned cheekily at his previous self. “Hello, sorry, the dimensional stabilisers are a bit off. I’ve been out all decade.”
“He has,” Rose offered. “Was going to take me to 1324 we ended up in 1924.”
“We had fun,” he protested.
“You nearly got shot,” Rose reminded him and he nodded sagely, turning to himself.
“We never did get the hang of not arguing with men with guns.”
The younger Doctor stared between the Doctor and Rose until Rose realised that the Doctor still had his arm around her.
Their conversation about love echoed in her head and she suddenly felt a little odd.
She cleared her throat and the Doctor, her Doctor, looked down at her.
She gestured to his arm and he dropped it quickly. “Right. Sorry. Still crossing time lines is bad and we’d better be off. Thanks for rescuing Rose, odds are she needed it.”
“Oi!” Rose elbowed him and that was enough the start the younger version of himself off laughing.
“Oh, my taste in companions does improve somewhat!”
“Yes,” the Doctor was smiling but his eyes were serious. “Okay, Rose back in the TARDIS.”
”Nice to meet you.” Rose slipped the coat tighter around her shoulders and raced for the warmth and dryness of the TARDIS.
The two Doctors stared at each other.
“She insists she’s going to kill you,” the younger Doctor said. “Not telling her it was monsoon season. My Time keeping skills obviously dwindle.”
“But,” said the Doctor with a grin, “look on the bright side, your fashion sense improves.”
He was given a once over by his past self and a dubious frown appeared.
He gestured towards Rose. “She’s a very entertaining young lady.”
”She’s amazing,” the Doctor corrected. “Worth everything.”
The younger Doctor raised an eyebrow. “I see.”
“Must be off,” the Doctor suddenly announced and bounded out into the rain. He paused on the gazebo steps and turned back. “When you meet her?”
“Ask her twice. She really is worth it.”
The Doctor sprung off into the rain and the younger Doctor stared after him in bemusement for a long moment.
“Yes, love was never said to be rational, inter-species, inter-twined and inter-dimensional and yet…” he trailed off thinking of the way the blonde girl lit up when she saw the young man and the way he lit up when he saw her.
“No one has ever said I was rational.” He grinned widely. “I can’t wait to meet that girl.” He shook his head. “Now somewhere there’s danger, somewhere there’s injustice and somewhere the tea is getting cold.”
He put up his umbrella and marched out into the rain.