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"Show me something breathtaking," Rose challenged, with a teasing little I-am-getting-to-be-old-hat-at-this smirk that suggested he couldn't impress her anymore.
The Doctor couldn't have her thinking he'd used up all of his tricks. He ran his fingertips over the console, musing, until the obvious answer came to him. "You got it, but you'll need to dress warmer than that. Really bundle up."
Rose spun away from the console, started down the corridor, only to turn back. "Should I be picking something historical or from my time?"
"As you like. It doesn't matter, the planet's empty, just also freezing."
"All right, don't fly without me!" She grinned at him, and took off again.
In that case, he also had time to pop by the wardrobe room. He swapped his current jumper for a deep blue shiny one.
He returned to the console just a little before Rose. She was fully decked out in a matching hat, scarf, and glove set, a thick insulated coat and snow boots. "All winter wear accounted for!" Rose declared.
"Good, then we can be off." The second she gripped the console, he grinned and threw the final lever.
The flight was short and relatively steady because stopping in orbit was easier on the TARDIS than landing her on a planetary surface, even if it required more finesse.
The Doctor loved a bit of pageantry; he moved to the double doors and waved Rose up next to him. "Rose Tyler, I present to you, Woman Wept!" He threw the doors open.
"Why's it called—oh, ohhhh!" Rose's mouth dropped open mid-sentence, and the Doctor reluctantly tore his gaze away from her face to look at the planet.
Another layer of the Doctor's denial was chipped away as he and Rose stared at Woman Wept. The majesty of the strangely carved planet below was supposed to affect her; he'd wanted to see her in awe, moved by the melancholy of the lamenting figure grieving for her barren rocks and waves and shoreline.
What he hadn't counted on was how a look at Rose's slightly misted eyes and her plush lips parted in surprise would affect him. The planet was a stunning accident of pleasing geology but its peaks and valleys had nothing on Rose Tyler. "It's so beautiful," she choked out, dabbing at her eyes.
You're beautiful, his mind echoed. It was another in a line of planets serving to telegraph his feelings. He'd shown her his loss, his grief, his anger. At first he'd actively tried to push her away, but today he wanted to share something new: longing. The one feeling he'd never have expected. He wanted Rose: her awe, her joy, her curiosity. To bask in the lightness emanating from her in any and every way he could.
They stood there together, pressed shoulder to shoulder, leaning out from the doorframe, as the TARDIS slowly rotated above this beautiful visual representation of his feelings because he desperately wanted something he couldn't have. Rose turned to him, and he tugged her back inside, shutting the door on the gorgeous landscape and his loaded thoughts.
"Come on, there's more to see yet. No dawdling now," he said gruffly as he strode over the console, grateful for the momentary distraction of piloting.
"How can anything possibly top that?" she asked, her tone still soft and reverent.
"You can't just appreciate a planet from above," he said. "And the surface is also worth a look, trust me."
She grinned at him with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. "Always do."
Minutes later, they marched across the crunchy grass and soil headed towards the vast ocean.
"If I timed it right," the Doctor began, and Rose snorted playfully. He corrected himself: "In order to appreciate my impeccable timing, we need to get right up to the shoreline." Hand-in-hand they sprinted the remaining distance to the water's edge.
The sea spray was cold, true ice water, and though Rose squealed when the water arched over her, stray droplets stinging her skin, she didn't protest.
The Doctor could feel it distantly, the awareness of—how had he phrased it when they met?—clinging to the skin of this tiny little world that was hurtling through space.
"What are we waiting for?" Rose asked.
"This," the Doctor replied, snapping his fingers for effect. As if on his command, the waves froze in a moment into chiseled sculptures of ice, becoming jutting curves that captured that starlight. A whole planet solid and still, as though the universe had drawn its breath, waiting.
Rose gasped in delight. "Did you do this?"
"No, not even I have that kind of power. For some reason, Woman Wept fell out of orbit around the star that acts as its sun. Its orbital gravity had faltered before now. Possibly due to a satellite collision or a buildup of delayed effect of the asteroid barrages that carved the cliff formations, each nudging it just that little bit further off course until it broke off, tumbling through space and getting colder and colder as it drifted further from the solar radiation that once sustained it. But today, today, it's as if a giant someone reached out and snatched it out of its place in the sky and yanked to an entirely new place in a more empty patch of sky. Hell of an effort to go through for perfectly smooth ice cream, but pretty dazzling."
"Which is why it's so cold."
Was that all she'd gotten out of that whole speech or was she just winding him up? "Uh, huh."
"And dark?"
It had gotten darker, hadn't it? "I can fix that." Slipping the sonic out of his pocket, he gave it a twirl as he dialed in settings. With a hum the tip flared to life, bathing them both in its bluish glow and refracting off the frozen waves.
He made his way over to Rose, shifting settings to add a little bit of warmth. Just enough radiant heat to gently melt the crystals clinging to her coat and hair without posing a risk to their surroundings.
"Better?"
"Much."
They strode along in companionable quiet. Rose stooped to brush her fingers along the powdery ground, and she scooped up a handful of the iridescent slit. A few metres later, she stretched to trace along the creases of a cresting wave, still marveling.
"You're right. It is even more beautiful up close." She turned to face him, throwing her arms around his neck.
She ran her face along his jumper, her hair tickling the column of his throat and then sweeping up his chin as she shifted to look up at him. All the trust and warmth in her eyes made his hearts squeeze. She leaned in closer and while he was still no expert on human behavior, he was pretty sure if he gave her the slightest indication, she'd be happy to warm her lips against his own.
This was as close as it could get. Rose deserved more. It was what made Woman Wept a good metaphor. It was lonely, and perhaps tempting, but also deadly once you got too close or stayed too long. That reminded him.
"If you're still cold, we should probably head back to the TARDIS."
"I wasn't, I mean I am cold, but that wasn't why—" she cut herself short.
He decided feigning ignorance was his best defence. "Why you were what?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
He pointedly stepped out of her embrace, and forced a tone of sneer into his tone. "Just like you humans, never making up your minds."
She shot him a particularly cross look then hunched over and marched double time back to the TARDIS.
He didn't relish ruining such a moment, but what other choice was there? Rose had already forgiven him beyond what he deserved.
The space between them made the brief walk back to the TARDIS feel brutal, even after he increased the heat and light output of the sonic.
"Where to now?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't just say home.
"The future," she added at a mutter, "where I can outrun my embarrassment."
"What's that?"
"The future; anywhere we can help someone."
The Doctor nodded and let the TARDIS choose. She'd certainly heard Rose after all, and would take Rose's preferences into account. Perhaps an adventure to stumble through would help them both get over feelings neither of them needed to have. When Rose stomped off to change into something less suited to arctic temperatures, the Doctor slumped over and sighed.
One of the buttons he leaned on gave him a good zap. Even the ship had an opinion. "Nobody asked you."
The place that awaited them outside the TARDIS—shiny metal walls, general din, the panels full of colored lights and buttons—seemed to buoy Rose's flagging spirits.
"Hello?" Rose called and her voice echoed back to her.
"Anybody home?" the Doctor tried.
"Seems pretty abandoned."
"Are we going to let that stop us?"
"No," Rose agreed, darting forward and the Doctor kept up with her.
They got only a short distance into the room before they stepped on a panel in the floor, which lowered with an audible, and very ominous, clunk.
"Oh good; I haven't had anyone here to play my game in a very long time," called a weathered, raspy voice that seemed to emanate evenly from every direction at once.
The Doctor had little time to ponder the announcement. Not with the sinking suspicion that whatever kind of game this was they weren't about to enjoy playing. He clamped his hands onto Rose's forearms, keeping her still. She glared at him, but he wasn't about to let go. "Rose, don't move," the Doctor warned her.
"Just a few minutes ago you couldn't wait to get away from me," Rose reminded him.
"I'm sorry about that, I am. But right now it's very important that neither of us move."
"Why?"
The voice answered, "Because your companion there has figured out you're standing on a pressure plate."
"What I haven't figured out is what it's connected to," the Doctor responded, carefully looking around without shifting too far.
"Unimportant. What does matter is the choice you make next. The rules of my game are very simple. Whichever one of you is standing there on the platform last gets destroyed." The voice chuckled. "Doesn’t that sound like fun?"
"Not in the slightest," The Doctor disagreed, and frowned. "Especially if you're not here to see it happen. "Why not come out and watch?"
"I can observe just fine," the voice said with a sneer. "You can see me too."
The Doctor took another look, but failed to find either their mystery opponent, or the source of the sound.
"So, your game is if the Doctor steps off the square, then he watches as you get me. If I step off the square, then you kill the Doctor?" Rose checked.
"Correct."
"What happens if we manage to step off at the exact same time?" the Doctor asked.
"Well, you might win. Maybe that is the answer. Or maybe I count on one of you to rush, or one of you hesitates. Or perhaps you both pull it off perfectly and I decide that means you're both last. Are you willing to gamble and find out when I guarantee safety for one of you?"
That was an easy choice for the Doctor, who let go of Rose. "Rose, step off the platform."
"Doctor, we have no idea if that voice is telling the truth!"
"And what if it is? I can work out the clever bit once you're out of danger."
"Not if you're dead. Doctor, you can't expect me to just give up!"
"I promised to bring you home to your mother. Whatever that thing has planned has got to be better than whatever Jackie would do to me."
Rose swatted at him. "I won't do it."
"How sweet," crooned the voice.
"You butt out!" Rose growled.
"If you're going to get hostile, I'll have to speed things up. For that I'll give you a countdown clock to decide," the voice said.
"How much time have we got?" Rose asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know? Tick, tick, tick," the voice intoned.
"It's not much of a game without rules," the Doctor countered.
"The only rule I care about is whether I'm having fun!"
The Doctor intended to keep their opponent talking, but Rose spoke up before he could.
"I know you don't want to die here," she said quietly. "You might've once, but you're different now, and I'm not letting some stupid recording take you away. Can't we try stepping off together?"
"You're right," the Doctor answered.
"Okay." She drew the word out a little. "Should we go on three, or how do we time it?"
"No, not about how we get out of this. About the fact that I don't want to die here. But that's only true because I met an incredible, fantastic, beautiful woman who came with me to see the universe and help me appreciate it again. You are the best of me, Rose Tyler."
"Stop it," she demanded. "You don't say things like that. You don't think that."
He just did, so he does, and he had, at least since the moment where Rose stood in front of a Dalek and demanded he be better than vengeance and rage and grief, if not before. But she was right not to accept him at his word. So he tried for a crueler, more believable truth. "Rose, there's nothing I wouldn't do or say if it convinced you to get to safety."
The voice continued to impatiently tick, tick, tick, as the Doctor and Rose argued.
Rose sighed heavily. "Even if I wanted to go, how would I get home without you?"
"If I can't find a way out, the TARDIS can get you home. Please."
"Okay. If that's what you really want, Doctor. Are you sure?"
He nodded. "Absolutely."
Rose's features steeled with sudden resolve. "Did you mean that part you said about being willing to do anything?"
"Anything," The Doctor promised.
"Good." Rose cupped one hand behind his head, and tugged his mouth down to hers, kissing him as fiercely as he could have imagined. The sort of devouring kiss they felt as though she were chasing the air in his lungs to fill her own. Though it initially caught him off guard, he relaxed into it, letting her lead. "Goodbye, Doctor," she murmured against his lips and then shoved him backwards with every ounce of her strength.
He had never felt less brilliant than in that moment as he stumbled backward and fell, landing just free of the square. A long bang, a blinding flash of light, Rose let out a piercing shriek, all happened in the same moment.
As quickly as he could he got to his feet and lunged forward, but only closed his arms around empty air. "No! Rose!"
The light receded from blinding and the Doctor explored the room. He was no closer to identifying the source of the sound. Nor could he find any trace of Rose except those parts of her which still filled his senses. It was possible the weapon could have torn her apart atom by atom, that she was gone just as promised. It was also possible that he had been tricked. Rose would seize the answer with hope left, and the Doctor would do the same. "What, no gloating, no congratulations on my survival? Nothing left to say. I thought you were lonely. How long will you have to wait before someone else comes along and lands in your trap?"
The voice crackled to life, and this time it sounded annoyed. "I was very clear. She traded her life for yours. You are free to go."
"I heard you. But I don't think you're telling the truth. And I'm very, very cross and particularly motivated, so I think you will give her back."
"She volunteered," the voice insisted. "She is rightfully mine."
"Aha! You said 'is.' That means she's still here somewhere, and I'll find her."
The Doctor marched his way through the remaining corridors and around the equally empty rooms of what turned out to be a very small craft, his hearts sinking as he made his way back to where they'd left the TARDIS with no sign of anyone else onboard. The doors opened without resistance, the cupboards were empty, he had wedged himself in every nook and cranny and came up empty-handed.
The voice hadn't said a word, until he'd leaned against the TARDIS, delayed grief mounting. "Satisfied now, Doctor?"
"No." Disappearing back inside the TARDIS, the Doctor emerged with a collection of repurposed tools: a hockey stick, a garden rake, a trusty umbrella, an unusually large and long fork, anything he could find quickly that might help him prod, pry, or pull apart the walls and floor.
"What do you plan to do with all of that junk?" the voice asked.
"Smash everything until I find you and Rose," the Doctor replied, as he picked through his options.
"You can't! You'll compromise structural integrity. We'll both fall out of the sky."
"That's a gamble I'm willing to take. Think I'll start with the panel that started all the trouble." The Doctor raised the implement high above his head, wielding it like a spearfisher posed to strike.
"Wait," the voice cried, "Don't hurt me!"
How had he not realized the obvious? "You're the ship...a sentient ship."
"A dying ship," the ship corrected. "She was only fuel. Not consumed yet. I am as kind as I can afford to be. I only take volunteers."
"Not fully informed ones," countered the Doctor.
"Tell me, Doctor. Would anything consent to be eaten?"
"I would."
"To save the woman you love?"
Were his affections really that obvious? First a Dalek, now this ship. "Yes," the Doctor confirmed.
The floor slid open, revealing Rose stuffed into a floor compartment, wedged as snug as tinned kippers. "Doctor! Doctor, what's going on?"
"Thank you," he bid the ship.
"Take her and go. Quickly, before I change my mind," the ship commanded.
"Rose, I'm here, grab this." The Doctor fished Rose out—at least the pile of long tools was useful for that. "I've got you." Not wanting to take his chances with the ship's generosity, he opted to carry Rose back to the TARDIS.
She had questions, understandably, as soon as he set her down on a chair. "Why aren't we leaving yet? How am I still here? What happened?"
"Never mind that. Are you okay?"
"Shaken up mostly. What's going on?" she repeated.
The Doctor explained, "That voice was coming from the ship, an ultimavorous living ship, capable of consuming both organic and inorganic matter. It didn't want to kill us, just eat us."
"Is that better?"
"I owe it for letting us go. Would you really be happy to leave it here to starve after that?"
"No," Rose agreed. "Couldn't you just tell it to move somewhere like Earth and absorb all the trash? Or maybe it could help out when something gets overpopulated?"
"I'd need to work together with the ship to work out what sort of refuse might meet its dietary needs best, but oh, it would benefit it and any number of developed planets if it worked." His glee faded as quickly as it caught on. The toothy grin slid off his face at the sight of Rose, her weariness and worry evident in her half-lidded eyes and stiff posture.
Part of him just wanted to spirit her off to bed, get her tucked in under the covers where she would be safe and let a good rest chase away what was still haunting her.
Another part of him, apparently the largest share, was still angry. "I can't let you stay, if you're going to take risks like that."
"You're really that mad I kissed you?" she asked, her tone rising in pitch the way it usually did when she found something particularly absurd. "I nearly died, and that's all you can think about."
"No, this isn't about the kissing. I meant you don't have the right to go around throwing away your life for mine, as if it's worth more than yours."
"Course it is. I'm just a stupid ape, remember?"
"That's not," he started and faltered. The Doctor wasn't sure how to get across to her how far from the truth that was. It was no wonder she couldn't believe him before.
He was about to try again when Rose spoke up, her voice breaking. "I needed you to know how I felt."
He hated that that was what he'd done to her. That in his efforts to keep her at a safe distance, he'd convinced her to go to desperate lengths to get his attention when she'd already had it. Rose was brave and clever and unstoppable from the moment she'd taken his hand and run. How could she think he felt anything less?
"I already knew."
She got up then. "You—" He didn't let her get any farther.
He'd deny it if she asked—he was already denying it to himself—but this time he closed the remaining distance between his mouth and hers. He was aware of his lips and tongue and teeth, but also his legs bracketing her hips, and his arms encircling her waist. She broke off the kiss to breathe, tucking her head against his chest. With her body pressed this close, he could feel the slight tremor that ran through her frame. He held her until it stilled, then carefully stepped back.
"Where are you going?" she drawled sleepily.
"You need to rest, and I have an ultimavore to relocate."
"No." She tugged him back into her arms. "When I let you go, you'll find all the reasons we shouldn't do this again."
"And you'll be better able to argue back if you're not exhausted," he countered, "Get some sleep."
"If I have to." With one last noise of protest, Rose released him. The Doctor waited until Rose was settled in her room before he headed back out of the TARDIS.
The ship sounded tired as Rose was as it said, "I thought I'd told you to leave, Doctor."
"You did, but the way Rose and I see it, we owe you a meal. So we'll do you one better; a tasting tour throughout the universe. Invasive species, waste products, environmental runoff. Something out there has got to be more appealing than waiting on people and their junk to happen by. What do you say?"
"I am willing to try," the ship agreed.
"Fantastic," the Doctor replied, and plotted the first course.