Work Text:
Reminds Me of You
The Doctor is busy haggling for TARDIS parts with a three-eyed, green skinned bloke in a newsboy's cap when something catches Rose's eye three stalls down. She's intrigued enough to break Rule Number One and wander off.
The Doctor anxiously scans the crowd for her fifteen minutes later. He's about to shift into outright panic when he finally spies her walking back to where he is. Her arms are laden with bags filled with the bargains she found. "Good thing that's an unlimited credit stick," he comments. "I couldn't find you for a while, Rose. Had me worried."
"I was here. You've no reason to be worried. I could see you the whole time, so you weren't lost," she says cheekily.
The Doctor doesn't return the smile. "Really...just don't," he says. He looks so vulnerable in that moment that her throat tightens a bit. She cups his cheek gently and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He wraps an arm around her to pull her closer, not minding the bags, and deepens the kiss.
"Right, then, back to the TARDIS?" the Doctor asks after the kiss ebbs away.
"I smell chips," Rose smiles.
"Duly noted. After chips, then." He offers his arm, and gallantly takes some of the bags from her.
"Oi, mind that! It's breakable and I bought it for you! I'd like for it to make it back to the TARDIS!" Rose admonishes him.
"Oh, for me? Intriguing!"
"Show me the chips and I'll show you the gift!"
They're both laughing as the queue up for chips at the food court. They place their order and find their seats. Rose wastes no time diving into her basket. "These are just gorgeous," she says. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but they're better than Earth chips."
The Doctor laughs, "I can tell, you didn't drown 'em in vinegar." He folds his hands on the table expectantly and gives her a huge, barmy smile that touches his eyes this time. She's seen nothing but sadness behind those eyes, ever since the Olympics, even in their bed. It's a relief to see genuine happiness on his face. "So....what didja get me?" He's bouncing in his seat.
Rose mutters something about him being the world's oldest toddler and picks up the bag with his gift. He dives in eagerly as she laughs. "Don't get your hopes up. It's not that amazing."
The Doctor pulls out an object wrapped in tissue paper. He unwraps it carefully and pulls out a mug. It's large, and it's painted in brown and blue iridescent swirls.
"It's silly, I know. A mug. But, you know, I thought....anyway it reminded me of you," Rose murmurs, averting her eyes. Suddenly it looks to her like the dumbest idea ever.
"It's brilliant! I love it!" She still won't look at him, and she's still slightly embarassed. "Rose Tyler, I love it! When I put hot tea in it the colors will sparkle and swirl together. It's made of Grazilious porcelain. There's minerals native to the planet infused into the porcelain and that's why or reacts to heat by changing color. The porcelain arts are held in very high regard on Grazilia. They hand make everything. It's one of a kind. This is gorgeous."
"It...it kind of reminded of your swirly tie. And, y'know...our morning breakfast tea is my favorite part of the day," Rose said, looking him in the eyes now.
He gave her a filthy smirk, eyebrow raised. "Your current favorite part of the day?"
She blushed. "Oh, shut up. Before that was my favorite time of the day, it was breakfast tea with you. You remember? We've been doin' that since you had the ears and the leather jacket. Back when you professed to hate domestics."
The Doctor chuckles. "Wellll....I have a feeling I was pretty transparent, even back then." He clasps her hand and her smile is so endearing he wants to abandon the chips and take her back to their room and engage in their new favorite activities.
"You were. Particularly when you'd start showing up without me having to seek you out."
The Doctor kisses her hand. "I'll have my tea in it every morning. And I'll treasure it, Rose Tyler." Just as I treasure you, he thinks but doesn't say.
Before he can entertain the thought of giving her the words he knows she's ready to hear, she is bending over to pick something else out of a shopping bag and the moment is lost. "Look what I found Mum! The bloke said it tells the weather. A bezoomium? Is that what he said?"
"Bezoolium," the Doctor corrects. "Not sure it'll work on Earth, though."
He holds the small object in his hand and suddenly he can't hold back a shiver.
"Something wrong? Looked like you had a chill," Rose says, concerned.
The Earth phrase about geese walking over graves crosses his mind, and he shakes it off, fighting the melancholy that's been plaguing him lately. Instead he says, "Didn't you feel that breeze?"
She shakes her head, but now he's moved on, complaining about visiting Earth again so soon after the last visit.
"I need to do some laundry. I won't have any clothes left," she says.
"And the problem is...."
She smacks his arm.
"Really, I see no issue," he continues. "And we do have a perfectly functional laundry room on board our very own TARDIS. You always seem to forget that."
"You know Mum. She wants to feel useful."
After a while they finish eating and gather their belongings. They walk to the TARDIS hand in hand. The Doctor's melancholy has returned, although he tries to hide it from Rose.
He makes love to her that night,
slowly and tenderly and he holds tightly to her afterwards, whispering "I love you" in her ear as she dozes off in his arms. Her eyes open wide and she whispers it back to him. It's their own little secret from the universe as they cuddle in the dark of their room. The Doctor feels like he's daring the universe now that he's given her those words.
Twenty-four hours later he returns to the TARDIS numb, broken and alone. It seems as though the universe has taken the Doctor up on his dare. Even the hum of the TARDIS is of no comfort to him. Everything surrounding him reminds him of Rose Tyler.