andveryginger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andveryginger) wrote2006-11-23 12:09 pm
andveryginger) wrote2006-11-23 12:09 pm
Fic: Nudge
Fic: Nudge
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Nine, Rose
Rating: General
Summary: Rose muses after the events of "The Unquiet Dead."
Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
celsitude, who felt the issue of the donor card wasn't really settled. Hope this one works for you -- Happy Thanksgiving!
Posted without beta. Constructive criticism welcomed; flames tossed into the Satan Pit. ;)
A silence fell over the control room as Rose Tyler lay on her back, eyes following the arc of the cavernous ceiling. The boned bodice, skirts, and shoes had been exchanged for her usual jeans, tee, and trainers. While she had externally shed 1869 with the simple change of costume, her mind still lingered on the Welsh servant girl who had saved the world.
"It's not the same, you know."
To her right, oversized feet propped on the TARDIS console, the Doctor frowned. "What's not the same?"
"A donor card. Animated corpses. They're not the same."
The Doctor rolled onto his side -- completely ignoring the particularly sharp grating poking him in the hip -- and looked at her, propped on his elbow. His furrowed brow creased further. "I thought we'd already left that behind. You know: solve the mystery, save the world, move on to the next thing..."
"Only it wasn't us who saved it, was it?"
Rose looked up at him, wide eyes challenging. "A servant girl -- a little Welsh servant girl from Cardiff, of all places, and she saved the world. After we almost ended it."
Through the TARDIS, the Doctor could feel her mind whirling as the bluish glow washed over them; her thoughts whirled faster than the steady scrape-thrum of the engines. His lips drew a taut line. "Rose --"
"How d'you know what's right?" she asked, interrupting. A scowl distorted her own features. "If we're just 'stupid apes' in 2005, then how are we s'posed to accept walking dead in 1869?" She shook her head. "We don't -- we can't. They're still all zombies to us; somethin' best left to the movies."
"But you're not just stupid apes, Rose." The Doctor shrugged. "Sure ya have your moments, but you really are a fantastic race: perservering through wars, spanning the galaxy, making it your home; you're constantly exploring, challenging -- just like you're challenging me now. It's all inside those tiny little minds of yours. Just, you know, ya sometimes need a bit of a nudge in the right direction. Broaden the horizons a bit."
Rose drew her attention from the hypnotic dimming and brightening of the TARDIS engines. She narrowed her eyes at him, studying features that were quickly becoming familiar. "You're just makin' somethin' up."
The Doctor shook his head. "Nah," he replied. A wry grin curved his lips. "You know me better than that. D'you really think I'd spend so much time on a planet, with a race I thought didn't have potential?"
"Dunno. The way you keep insultin' us, it's kinda hard to tell, yeah?"
He chuckled. "Point. But you're not always so thick. Some days, like today, you're pretty fantastic."
Rose gave a sad smile. "Gwyneth really was fantastic, wasn't she?"
"She was." The Doctor reached over, silently intertwining his fingers with hers. "An' so are you, Rose Tyler."
Her gaze traced the outline of their hands, up his arm, and to his features. His wide, manic grin was contagious. Rose laughed, then allowed her gaze to follow the arc of the ceiling again, back down to the glowing center console. They lay there for a long while, fingers intertwined, as the TARDIS drifted in the Vortex. The only sound breaking the silence was the steady scrape-thrum of the TARDIS' engines.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Nine, Rose
Rating: General
Summary: Rose muses after the events of "The Unquiet Dead."
Author's Notes: Written for
celsitude, who felt the issue of the donor card wasn't really settled. Hope this one works for you -- Happy Thanksgiving!Posted without beta. Constructive criticism welcomed; flames tossed into the Satan Pit. ;)
A silence fell over the control room as Rose Tyler lay on her back, eyes following the arc of the cavernous ceiling. The boned bodice, skirts, and shoes had been exchanged for her usual jeans, tee, and trainers. While she had externally shed 1869 with the simple change of costume, her mind still lingered on the Welsh servant girl who had saved the world.
"It's not the same, you know."
To her right, oversized feet propped on the TARDIS console, the Doctor frowned. "What's not the same?"
"A donor card. Animated corpses. They're not the same."
The Doctor rolled onto his side -- completely ignoring the particularly sharp grating poking him in the hip -- and looked at her, propped on his elbow. His furrowed brow creased further. "I thought we'd already left that behind. You know: solve the mystery, save the world, move on to the next thing..."
"Only it wasn't us who saved it, was it?"
Rose looked up at him, wide eyes challenging. "A servant girl -- a little Welsh servant girl from Cardiff, of all places, and she saved the world. After we almost ended it."
Through the TARDIS, the Doctor could feel her mind whirling as the bluish glow washed over them; her thoughts whirled faster than the steady scrape-thrum of the engines. His lips drew a taut line. "Rose --"
"How d'you know what's right?" she asked, interrupting. A scowl distorted her own features. "If we're just 'stupid apes' in 2005, then how are we s'posed to accept walking dead in 1869?" She shook her head. "We don't -- we can't. They're still all zombies to us; somethin' best left to the movies."
"But you're not just stupid apes, Rose." The Doctor shrugged. "Sure ya have your moments, but you really are a fantastic race: perservering through wars, spanning the galaxy, making it your home; you're constantly exploring, challenging -- just like you're challenging me now. It's all inside those tiny little minds of yours. Just, you know, ya sometimes need a bit of a nudge in the right direction. Broaden the horizons a bit."
Rose drew her attention from the hypnotic dimming and brightening of the TARDIS engines. She narrowed her eyes at him, studying features that were quickly becoming familiar. "You're just makin' somethin' up."
The Doctor shook his head. "Nah," he replied. A wry grin curved his lips. "You know me better than that. D'you really think I'd spend so much time on a planet, with a race I thought didn't have potential?"
"Dunno. The way you keep insultin' us, it's kinda hard to tell, yeah?"
He chuckled. "Point. But you're not always so thick. Some days, like today, you're pretty fantastic."
Rose gave a sad smile. "Gwyneth really was fantastic, wasn't she?"
"She was." The Doctor reached over, silently intertwining his fingers with hers. "An' so are you, Rose Tyler."
Her gaze traced the outline of their hands, up his arm, and to his features. His wide, manic grin was contagious. Rose laughed, then allowed her gaze to follow the arc of the ceiling again, back down to the glowing center console. They lay there for a long while, fingers intertwined, as the TARDIS drifted in the Vortex. The only sound breaking the silence was the steady scrape-thrum of the TARDIS' engines.