Chapter Text
As the Doctor began to read to Rose, he could feel the words echoing in his mind, with such familiar warmth, like a crackling fireplace after a chilly day. How long had it been since he’d read something in his own language?
Far too long.
The fact that one of his students, the brilliant Rose Tyler had asked him to, well, that simply took the cake.
He tried to keep his eyes on the pages, and not stare at her too blatantly, but when he reached the end of the sentence, and she moved her hand to turn the page for him, his eyes slipped over to her face. It was framed by her blond hair, beautiful, but harshly dyed, as evidenced by her darker roots. He was just barely shifting his gaze to her cheek, but then her warm brown eyes caught him, and he looked away quickly.
Suddenly he couldn’t think straight, and all he could see or smell was her. Her scent wasn’t her namesake; it was more like fresh brewed tea, along with the slow smolder of vanilla laced with cinnamon.
He was treading a very dangerous line being this close to her.
When she reached out to touch his hand, bringing him back to the present, he jolted in his chair, and stood up quickly, nearly knocking her backwards. She’d been much too near and smelled too good. He needed to distance himself.
“If you have any further questions, note them at the end of your essay and I’ll try to answer them. Good day Miss Tyler.”
That’s it. He just had to remind her of her place, and remember his.
But even when he’d returned to his quarters, and shut and bolted the door, safe, high up in the astronomy tower, he could swear he could still smell cinnamon.
***
Rose was left sitting in the library wondering what she’d done wrong.
She’d been having a wonderful time listening to the Doctor read, for some reason, the language, (Gallifreyan, had he said?) was remarkably more like singing than speaking.
Then of course she’d looked up to see him watching her, and under his pensive blue eyed stare, she knew she’d blushed bright pink.
The book’s language had a strange beauty to it, and Rose recalled in her last bout of dreams she’d had, before the insomnia had taken over, she almost thought she’d seen one of the symbols, which the Doctor had translated as “Bad.” Coupled with all the figures and forms of wolves in her mind, the phrase jumped out at her, ‘Bad Wolf.’ It only stuck out to her since she’d been a vivid reader of muggle fairy tales.
The sort of thing’s she would mention and reference with her friends, most of them wouldn’t get. They knew the tales of Beedle the Bard, but when it came to Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White, they would look at her like she’d sprouted a second head.
As she stared at her blank piece of parchment, cut specifically for her Astronomy essay, she twirled her quill about in hand, wondering just where to start.
Then she came to a decision, if there were no rules about how to answer the Doctor’s question, who was to say it had to be all facts?
Why not a story, the adventure of the missing Moon?
Rose chewed on her lip, and touched the quill to the parchment, beginning to scribble her first sentence.
***
By the time Mickey, Martha, Jack, and Sarah Jane all returned to Hogwarts after New Year’s Day, Rose was taking regular visits to the library to attempt to read the Gallifreyan book on astronomy.
Though it was much too heavy for her to take back up to her dormitory, she found she didn’t mind being on her own. She’d even picked out a corner table that faced the lake, for whenever her eyes began to cross and her head ached, she’d amuse herself watching the giant squid attempt to pluck daring birds from the sky, if they lingered too long getting a drink.
It was on such an afternoon that Mickey found her, reclining back against the window sill, eyes glazed and staring out at nothing in particular.
“Hey Rose.”
She looked around lazily, and smiled when she saw him.
“’lo Micks. How was your holiday?”
“It was right rubbish.”
“’m sorry to hear that. How come?”
“Cause all I could think was, you had to be left here, and you probably were planning a few thousand different ways to poison me.”
Rose laughed, and it was her old laugh, one that reminded Mickey of a wind chime blowing in an easy breeze,
“Oh Micks, if I’d wanted to poison you, I’d have told Jack how to do it. I’m not mad at you anymore. I know you like Martha. ‘m happy for you to be honest.”
Mickey dragged a chair over to her table and collapsed into it, sighing heavily,
“I can’t tell you what that means to me, to hear you say it. I just felt so bad that I was moving on so quickly. And everything I said, I didn’t really mean it. I was just angry. Jack got on to me about that. I reckon I owe you a couple dozen apologies.”
“And some chocolate.” Rose finally spoke up.
Mickey grinned, feeling his entire body relax slightly,
“You got it.”
“By the way, please don’t bother with the whole ‘We can still be friends’ shtick. I know you don’t want to hang around me anymore. And why would you? I’m going nowhere. I’m drifting through everything, and I still don’t have a clue what I want to be.”
“Oh Rose, don’t say that. You can’t possibly compare yourself to Martha, or Jack, or anyone else. You’ll know what you want to do when you know.”
Rose grimaced,
“I wasn’t about to compare myself to anyone really. But thanks. I’ll know when I know? That’s genius. You should have t-shirts printed. Posters even.” Rose gave him a grin, with her tongue tucked between her teeth, a sign that she had forgiven him, just a little.
Mickey rolled his eyes,
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, yeah. Alright well commend me for studying on a weekend then go report back to Jack I’m still alive and well.”
Mickey smiled slightly, and reached out to awkwardly pat her shoulder,
“I admire you for studying on a weekend. Although I don’t think looking out a window counts as studying anything but the Hogwarts grounds. Don’t tell me you want to be a groundskeeper?”
Rose laughed again,
“Oh Mickey. You’re such an idiot sometimes.”
“Thanks. Just for that, I’ll tell Jack you’re bawling your eyes out into a library book.”
Rose didn’t look at him, but he could tell she was frowning by the tone of her voice,
“If you don’t run, I’m going to hex you. Damn the consequences.”
Heavy footfalls in the opposite direction, following the screech of chair legs on the ground were Rose’s answer, and she grinned despite herself.
She was glad to have her friend back, as simply that, a friend.