Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Categories:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2015-12-28
Words:
1,815
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
5
Kudos:
19
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
264

The Spaces in Between

Summary:

My DW Secret Santa gift to @fake-fbi-badger on tumblr.

Nine meets Wilf around Christmas where he is contemplating Rose a bit. This particular part happens just after he leaves her and Mickey in the alley.

 

Beta’D by the incredible @faithosaurus because without her my tenses would be all over the place!

Work Text:

Refused. She actually refused his offer.

Oh, who was he kidding? What kind of offer did he make her really, after only just meeting him he blows up her work, nearly gets her killed and opens her eyes to a world so much more severe than spending a life in front of the telly. Plus his reaction, or lack thereof, to her boyfriend being dead wasn’t all too pleasing in her eyes.

But that’s why he needed her. Was this the man that he had become? He’d grown so desensitized to death that a single life taken was inconsequential. He only saw forests now but with her, with Rose, maybe he could see the trees again. She already had left her mark, had begun to change him. After setting the dematerializing sequence, he put the TARDIS into the vortex not knowing what to do next except brood a bit while staring up at the time rotor. Brooding was normal, but self reflection in the hopes to analyze feelings to channel a method of growth? That had to be from Rose.

“Look at me. Right state i’m in. How ‘bout it, girl? Fancying a bit of a walkabout. Give me somewhere nice.” The Doctor flipped the randomizer and let the TARDIS take him where she pleased. Wanting a bit of a surprise, he walked down the ramp and threw open the doors.

The Doctor looked up at the doorway. “What is it with you and London, eh? Bit brisk out, at that.” With a shrug, he ventured out of the TARDIS to stretch his legs.

 

As the slight breeze picked up, Wilfred Mott pulled the red cap further down over his ears. He never been one for last minute Christmas shopping, but now that his granddaughter has taken a bit more interest in stargazing, he has the perfect gift idea for her. The blanket he’s been using is usually stored in the shed, and really it's just barely an upgrade from a tarpaulin. He heard of a little shop that sells camping equipment that may have something a bit warmer for her that can be stored out with the rest of the gear without it getting musty.

Wilf loved Christmas. His eyes took in every decoration from the fairy lights around the windows to ribbon tied around lampposts. Although cold outside, these little details brought warmth to every sight he sees. As he meandered through the bustling sidewalk, he enjoyed seeing the mix of families hurriedly shopping and people going about their business, ready to take a break for the holiday. Everyone around him seemed to be in a rush but other than being put off by it, Wilf enjoyed the buzzing of the electricity in the air. The excitement was contagious and he always liked to indulge in a bit of people watching. Taking a bit of a break, Wilf walked into a little coffee shop for a cuppa and a pastry.

 

The Doctor walked down the busy street taking in the decorations, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. No matter how many times he’s visited this planet, he can’t help but ponder how humans have managed to keep celebrating this holiday no matter the many forms it's taken over the centuries. The underlying current to be safe, warm and well fed with the ones you love never changed. At that thought, the idea of a cuppa sounded good. Nearing a little coffee shop, the Doctor approached the entryway just as an older fellow backed out, bracing the door with his backside as his hands balanced a cup and a little ceramic dish with a pastry on it. “Hang on mate, let me help you with that.” The Doctor pulled the door open so that the man could shuffle out less encumbered.

The old man smiled up at the Doctor. “Oh thank you, sir. Careful now, not much space in there so best figure out what you want and get out quick!” He chuckled and moved to sit at a small terrace table.

As the Doctor moved into the shop, he saw that the old man wasn't kidding. “Wall to wall people in here. You’d think it was cold outside or somethin’.” Entering the queue, he placed an order for a cup of black coffee and snatched a banana from the basket next to the register. Exiting the shop, the Doctor began to fumble balancing the cup of coffee while trying to peel the banana.

He heard a hearty chuckle coming from a nearby table. “Trouble with those things is that it's the only fruit that requires two hands!”

“Nonsense. Plenty of fruit requires two hands. Satsumas. Mangoes. Pomegranates. List goes on really.” The Doctor remained focused in trying to peel his banana without spilling his coffee, but just as he’d balance the cup, he’d lose a finger hold on the stem.

Smiling at the display, Wilf offered the younger man to sit his coffee on the table so he could enjoy his breakfast. Once the man acquiesced and placed his cup down, Wilf watched as the man gripped the stem and went to break it off, only for it to fold over on itself.

The Doctor couldn't believe he was able to be bested by a tropical fruit, in front of an audience at that. “You’ve got to be jokin’,” he muttered.

“Here. Have a seat and let and old veteran show you something.” Wilf reached out for the banana as the man sat down. Bewildered, the leather clad man handed the banana to him. “See what people don’t realize is that we try to peel them wrong. We’re the only ones that try to peel them like this, but if you watch an ape do it, you’ll see there’s an easier way.”

The Doctor chuckled at the man’s use of the word “ape”. But as soon as his laughter began it was quickly silenced in awe. The old man pinched the end of the banana where the bloom once was. The ends opened apart, and the man peeled one small portion out and handed it back to the the Doctor for him to finish. Stunned, he accepted the fruit and finished peeling his treat.

Wilf introduced himself and invited the nameless man to join him since chairs were a rare commodity. The stranger accepted but didn’t share his name. Not that he wasn’t friendly, but Wilf could see that he met someone who looked to have his mind preoccupied. Being a chatty fellow, he took the lead in most of their conversation and talked a bit about his love of Christmas and how he needed to get one more item for his granddaughter.

The man seemed sullen at the mention of a granddaughter (surely he was old enough for children but too young for them to have their own), so Wilf pressed on about how his girl had taken an interest to see the stars. This seemed to spark something within the man, where he pointedly looked Wilf in the eyes and looked away just as quickly. Wilf recognized the look of hitting a nerve and was instantly regretful about whatever it was that he unknowingly said. Reaching a hand out to the stranger, he placed his over the man’s to get his attention.

“Ah now, look, um. I’m sorry. Clearly I said something that put you into a bit of a state and let me help fix that, eh?” Wilf looked at the man’s blue eyes and saw a fierce sadness there.

The man managed a weak smile. “Always sorry you lot. Wantin’ to fix things long broken.” The softness in his words seemed to have been meant for his ears only.

“It’s a girl isn't it? Always about a girl this time of year.”

The Doctor couldn't help but shake his head and smile a bit more at that. Humans always equated every problem in the world with relationships. In their tales and fables, the root cause stemmed from a love lost or never achieved. But was there a grain of truth in this? Perhaps it wasn't always about relationships; dig deeper than that and it's being lonely. Being refused.

Wilf pulled his hand away, apology shining in his eyes. The Doctor took a quick deep breath and told this kind old man about a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl that surprised him. She challenged him. Most importantly, she helped him. He spoke of how they had just met and how he felt more like himself. Although he wanted for them to spend more time together, she had too many responsibilities that she couldn't just walk away from. “Would’ve been nice is all, having a mate around. But ships passing in the night and all that.”

Wilf saw that there was longing in his voice as he told him about this girl. When he spoke of this nameless girl, his words weren't filled with infatuation, but something deeper. It was longing for a friend; a kindred spirit to help you when you are down or to create a memory over a pint. But he could see that their was a small spark of something there that resided for her, but it was a promise of a what-if. It was small, but you had to be blind not to notice it.

“It's been in my experience that when speaking to women, it's more about the spaces in between rather than the actual words coming out of their mouth. Now in my family, there are so many words coming out at you, you’d hardly recognize there being a space anywhere.” Wilf chuckled at the thought of Silvia and Donna having a row and him trying to get a word in edgewise. “Mark my words, there are those spaces, and that’s what you need to be paying attention to. Sounds like she has plenty of reasons to want to walk away from.”

The Doctor sat and thought on Wilf’s words. If he read into what Rose had said, maybe she was looking for a way out. Well, he did have a time machine, who said that she had to shirk her responsibilities completely? He could offer her a quick trip and have her back for tea. Nodding to himself in agreement, he finished his coffee and gather up his peel to discard it. He couldn't help the smile growing on his lips as he pictured how she’d react to seeing the end of the Earth.

The Doctor extended his hand to the old man. “Thanks for the chat, Wilf. I need to be off now.”

Wilf smiled at the younger man and shook his hand. “Ah yes, good idea. Christmas shopping won’t finish itself, um. Oh! What is your name by the way?”

“Oh. Er, John. You have a happy Christmas, Wilf.”

“You too, John. Merry Christmas.”