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The purple midday sky of Maisille II stretched out over the Doctor’s head as he wandered the storefronts of the Festival of Commerce. He’d already sent off his human companions to their own devices, seeking solitude. Going from just having Rose on board to the addition of Captain Jack Harkness had been…an adjustment, to say the least.
Rose wasn’t the issue, of course. She never could be. Brilliant, radiant, wonderful Rose. It frightened him to behold, sometimes, the way she had so utterly transformed him in just the few months they’d known each other. It had started the moment he’d met her, the millisecond of first contact between the skin of his hand and hers. But he hadn’t really noticed until they were in a different basement, this time in Cardiff, about to get murdered by angry Gelth. When he’d taken her hand again, and she’d looked over at him, and he simply couldn’t help the words that spilled from his mouth. “I’m so glad I met you.”
It had become quite difficult as time went on to squash the ridiculous flights of fancy that crossed the Doctor’s mind whenever he looked at Rose. Notions of kissing her, of holding her close, of doing much more than that. But of course, he would never. He couldn’t. Rose was far too precious, far too untainted by his darkness, his misery. He could never drag her down to his level. As if she’d even want to. A young, beautiful girl like her? So unfailingly kind and clever and vibrant? What interest could she possibly have in a broken old soldier?
Things had gotten worse ever since Jack had come on board. The Captain was everything the Doctor couldn’t be. Open, affectionate, and - god help him - flirtatious. Thankfully, Jack was hardly interested in focusing his attentions merely on Rose. Rather quickly, the Doctor had realized all the chatting up and dancing and giggling was more for a bit of fun, and didn’t have any serious designs behind it. At least for Rose. Plus, she was technically still entangled with Ricky the Idiot back home. But still, the way Jack had made a point to tell Rose how ‘positively lovely’ she’d looked this morning before they’d disembarked the TARDIS had made the Doctor grumble with discontent.
Quite by accident, he found himself standing in front of a jeweler's stand, staring down at a wide selection of rings in a glass display case. “These be our nuptial bands, good sir,” the merchant, a purple-haired Metasian, informed him. “Traditional among the populations of Trezon Omega, the Zalaxi system, and Sol Three.”
“I know,” the Doctor muttered as his eyes caught on a particular pair of gold rings, nestled together in a simple, black box.
“Ah, yes,” the merchant said, reaching inside the display case and placing the box on the counter for the Doctor to see. “This one here,” he said, pointing to the larger of the two rings, “a fusion of meteorite dust and fossilized amber, encapsulating the celestial balance of day and night.” He gestured to the smaller ring. “This one be featuring an aquamarine turquoise inlay woven with gold flakes, symbolizing longevity, harmony, and the eternal flame of commitment. Ideal for the couple that cherish the unique and meaningful. Together, the set be enduring as time itself.” The merchant finished his saccharine sales pitch with a wink.
On any other day, in any other place, the Doctor would have rolled his eyes and walked away. He never would’ve approached the jeweler’s stand, never bothered to even consider it. But there was something, buried deep in his timestream, something compelling him to procure those two particular rings. Another flight of fancy, he supposed. Must be.
“How much?”
--
Unfortunately for the Doctor, seconds after he had completed his transaction and the merchant had placed that simple black box in his hand, someone plucked it right back out again, whirling away with the exclamation, “Oh, would you look at this!” Irritation spiking, the Doctor turned to see Jack next to him, regarding the box with curiosity. He opened it and took a peek inside. “Well, aren’t these nice? Doctor, you shouldn’t have. You haven’t even asked for my father’s blessing! You’ll have a hard time, though, considering he’s been dead for years.”
“Give it back,” he demanded, lunging forward to grab the box from Jack’s hands.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so, Time Lord!” Jack dodged him, holding the ring box out of the Doctor’s reach. “You know, for someone who spends so much time on 21st century Earth, you don’t seem very up on their customs. Traditionally, a lady likes to be asked out on a date before giving her hand in marriage. Perhaps a kiss here or there, maybe even a shag if you’re naughty!”
“I’m not actually gonna-- oh, what am I tellin’ you for? Give it back!” the Doctor snapped.
“Wait, so you bought her a wedding ring to, what, stare wistfully at it? Imagine the possibilities? I knew you were a self-defeating old man, Doctor, but this is a new level of sad.” Despite his words, Jack tossed the box back to him.
“I hardly think I need to be takin’ advice about matters of that sort from the likes of you,” the Doctor scoffed as he snatched the box from the air and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He started walking away, prompting Jack to follow.
“Ah! So he admits it!” The Doctor rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify Jack’s words with a response. Then, a great crash resounded from somewhere about a dozen stalls away, triggering a ruckus amongst customers and merchants alike. Both men’s eyes followed the noise, and then Jack looked over at him. “Over-under that our favorite blonde is involved in that commotion?”
All the Doctor had to do was give him a pointed look, and both of them were off.
--
Two weeks later, on Woman Wept, the Doctor very nearly broke. Jack was still on the shore, chatting up the local diplomat on whose beachfront property they’d landed. They were very nearly thrown in jail upon exiting the TARDIS, but the Doctor had sorted it with a flash of the psychic paper and a quick explanation about them being visiting dignitaries whose ship was blown off-course by solar winds.
Now, he and Rose wandered together beneath the waves, hand in hand, the moonlight’s reflection on the frozen crests lighting up her face in a particularly lovely manner. He felt both hearts give a little stutter as she grinned that beautiful grin up at him, leaned her body into his and said, “I love this. Thank you for bringin’ us here.”
He couldn’t help but smile back down at her, knowing he was probably the picture of a lovesick fool. “Oh, this is nothin.’ Wait till you see Hanging Gardens of New Babylon. Walnuts the size of your head!”
“Whatever you say,” Rose laughed, stopping to stand at the base of a massive wave, marveling at the frozen marine creatures that stared at her through the ice, frozen in place. “But this has gotta be it. My favorite place you’ve brought me.”
“Don’t make your mind up so quick, Rose,” he told her. “There’s still a whole lot of universe left out there for you to see. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”
“You better,” Rose replied, cheeky grin and all. Then she blew out a breath and let go of his hands to bring her arms up around herself. “Bit nippy, though.” No wonder she was cold, dressed in only a thin jumper and denim skirt.
Without speaking, without even thinking, really, the Doctor slipped off his jacket and draped the leather over Rose’s shoulders, taking her hand again when he was finished. “Better?”
He chose to diligently ignore the flush that came to her cheeks at his actions. Must be the cold, he reasoned. “Yeah. Cheers.” But there was a moment, just a moment, Rose looking up at him, lips parted just so, their visible breath mingling in the frigid air, where he thought maybe, perhaps, this was the moment. He really, really shouldn’t, but oh, how he wanted to.
And then a great cacophony of shouts and laser weapon discharges resounded from the shore. The spell thoroughly broken, he rolled his eyes. “What’s he gone and done this time?”
--
Later, once the crisis had been averted - the crisis being that Jack was somehow not forward enough with his intentions towards the diplomat - the Doctor reunited with his human companions and got them the hell out of there. Once they were in the vortex, Rose shyly handed him back his jacket and excused herself to go make a cuppa. “Gonna go get warmed up,” she’d said.
“I’d be happy to help,” Jack told her, waggling his eyebrows at her. She only rolled her eyes and flitted out of the console room towards the kitchen. Then Jack turned his eyes to the Doctor, who was trying his very best to ignore the Captain’s presence. “You know, if you’re actually committed to this whole ‘sad pining and never using your words’ thing, you really ought to be more careful.”
He looked at Jack, brow furrowed in annoyance. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
Jack reached into the pocket of his bomber, pulling out the small black box the Doctor had purchased on Maisille II. “She found this in your pocket. Nice move, by the way, giving her your jacket. Very primary school, but still sweet.” At the way the Doctor’s eyes widened in panic, he continued, “Don’t worry. I invented some sob story about how I bought them for some girl back in the 51st century and asked you to hang onto them for me. Not sure how much of it she bought, but hey, every scoundrel’s gotta have a backstory, right?”
The Doctor started forward, holding out his hand. “Right. Thanks. Give ‘em here.”
Once again, Jack quite irritatingly moved the box out of the Doctor’s reach. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time you’ll be loaning Rose your jacket. So why don’t I hang onto them, and whenever you feel like getting around to using them, you can come and find me?” Jack finished with a wink.
Just as the Doctor was about to protest, Rose reentered the console room, holding a steaming hot mug of tea. Quickly, subtly, Jack tucked the box back into his pocket as Rose sat on the jumpseat and brought her legs up to sit criss-cross. “What are we talkin’ about?”
“Nothin,’” the Doctor said, turning back to the console. “She needs a bit of a recharge. How does Cardiff sound?”
“Boring,” Jack commented, but the Doctor had already set their destination.
--
And then Rose took the vortex into her head to save his life, and killed him in the process. Jack was rather unceremoniously left behind, but the Doctor could hardly bring himself to care. The only thoughts resonating through his mind as they fled the Gamestation were Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose.
He changed, and everything else changed with him.