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Rose and Reinette spent the better part of the afternoon rifling through the wardrobe. Neither of them was underplaying the importance of tonight's mission, but the Doctor had given them free rein, and the chance to dress up a bit didn't come every day.
Reinette was very methodical, sifting through racks with a critical eye, from time to time stopping to finger the fabric or pick out a dress and hold it out against the light.
Rose was far more chaotic in her perusal, strewing clothes haphazardly around every time her eye caught on something. Just like the sequined gold sheath dress she was trying on now—stunning, bold, and just a tiny bit dangerous.
"Isn't this neckline a bit too... plungey?" she asked, uncertain.
"I wouldn't worry about that, Rose," Reinette smirked, a glint in her eyes. "You heard the Doctor. Tonight is important. We need all the assets we can deploy."
"You're starting to sound like him." Rose retorted, but Reinette was unperturbed.
"And, before you say anything, the slit is not too high. It's perfectly calibrated for maximum effectiveness, in fact."
"Definitely sounding like him." Rose muttered, but she took another glance at the mirror. The gown was a bit daring, but it was also absolutely gorgeous. It hugged her figure in a rather flattering manner, the golden sequins shimmering like water with her every move. Suddenly she felt very invested in what the Doctor, the real one, would have to say about it.
It's about the mission, she chided herself, not his opinion. Definitely not.
"Okay," she pivoted rather sharply towards Reinette, "but what will you be wearing?"
With an enigmatic smile, Reinette vanished behind a screen and emerged a couple of minutes later in a strapless A-line gown in pale blue satin. The line of the dress was an odd blend of modern and something from Reinette's time. It was far more modest than Rose's, also due to the arm-length white gloves, but a constellation of little details—the gently curving patterns of bead and lace on the bodice, the dip of the neckline at the back, the luxurious swelling of the skirt—gave it a kind of secret, dangerously understated allure.
Rose leant in to brush an invisible speck of dust from Reinette's waist, then grinned at her. "Guess we're ready?"
She fought the urge to bite her lip, feeling just the tiniest bit self-conscious.
"Stop fretting." Reinette smirked again, glancing at her own reflection in the mirror. "He'll be speechless, I promise you."
Rose rolled her eyes. Was she really that bloody obvious? But Reinette had already grabbed her hand, resolutely crossing the cavernous clothes-rack-walled space towards the exit.
The ballroom was extensive, with fine furniture and delicate flowers in cut glass vases. The light from the huge chandeliers glinted off a thousand teardrop crystals, shimmering pink-golden like the fine bubbling in the champagne flutes.
Rose wondered if they hadn't had one too much already—it seemed possible, judging by Reinette's crystal-clear peal of laughter.
The air around them felt glossy and soft, wrapping around them like water, the same easy way her arm was laced around Reinette's waist or the Doctor's hand rested against the small of Rose's back. Despite his claim that he was unaffected by alcohol, there was a bit too much pink at the top of his cheeks. She loved the look on him, the hair he'd tried to tame slightly askew, the dark, knowing depth that kept bobbing up in his gaze.
It felt easy to forget they were here for a reason, and a rather important one at that.
"Are you sure there's no other way?" she asked, turning to the Doctor. "To retrieve the- how's that called again?"
"The Borismerian Stone."
"Yeah... that." She hid her question behind a sip of champagne.
"I'm afraid not." the Doctor replied. "The chance our munificent host of tonight is going to restore it on his own are in the negative."
"Even if we ask politely?" Reinette cut in with a flirty flutter of her lashes.
"I don't believe it would make a difference," he deadpanned, "Hard as it may seem, given how charming you both look tonight."
The unexpected compliment, delivered with a perfectly blank face, left Rose utterly baffled. She turned to him, and saw a teasing glint in his eyes. All right. He's just having fun.
She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
"You looked like you were enjoying yourself a bit there," she poked. "Making something of an entrance."
"With an accomplished, finely dressed woman on each arm." Reinette finished with a bemused smile.
Rose snorted. Accomplished really didn't seem like it applied to her, but more than that, it was the way the Doctor's brow furled, affronted, in a flash of almost comical indignation.
It lasted just a blink though, then he glided back, "Got us where we needed to, didn't it?" He smirked with a badly hidden hint of smugness. "Our Mr. Tau Eggerson was so thoroughly charmed he immediately rushed to entertain us, and so distracted that he answered all of my questions."
"If it wasn't for the chance to retrieve the alarm codes," he continued, "we could call it a night."
Rose touched the USB stick tucked against her breastbone. She knew the drill.
"I don't think so!" Reinette cut in, affecting a petulant tone which, coming from her lovely mouth, sounded strangely appealing. "This is the first proper entertainment I've had since I left Versailles. I was beginning to think travelling with you consisted solely of trudging through mud and running for our lives!"
"Well, actually-" Rose began, but they all broke out laughing before she could say another word.
The music of the Doctor's laughter was like a golden thing, buoying Rose even further above the shine of the chandeliers and the perfume of the flowers and the airy notes of the orchestra.
"Go on, what were you saying?" he challenged her with a grin when the laughter had died down.
"Well, all that does take up a lot of the time, no?" she asked, innocent-eyed.
He shook his head gravely. "I disagree. Trudging through mud is far less common than, say, breaking out of a cell, a jail, or some kind of confinement."
"Fair," she conceded. Then she started counting on her fingers. "Tau Ceti 19. The Space Wasp Colony. Victorian England. That abandoned spaceship-"
"The Daleks. Been there, don't recommend." he cut in, perfectly serious. Then, turning to Reinette, "Or you can ask Rose about that, she's something of a regular." he finished, touching Rose behind the elbow.
She giggled. That must definitely have been the champagne, as there was nothing remotely funny about what the Doctor said.
Reinette eyed her, then the Doctor. "I think I'm behind you two on drinks." she commented, her brow quirked in amusement. "I'll fetch myself another cup of that terrific vintage. The perlage is exceptional."
And with that, and a quick bow of her head, she turned away.
"Don't forget to smile," the Doctor called after her, "The evening is not over yet."
Reinette turned back to shoot a knowing smirk over her shoulder, a secretive, seductive smile that did things to Rose's insides. Definitely too much champagne.
She turned to the Doctor to hide her awkwardness, and caught his gaze lingering low on her figure.
He didn't flinch when his eyes met her arched brow. "Have you done... something to your legs?" he asked with a perfectly straight face.
"Like what?" she returned. "What do people do to their legs?"
"Um, I don't know. They seem... longer somehow."
"They're called high heels, Doctor."
He huffed, waving his hand impatiently. "No, it's not that." His gaze dropped to the slit in her skirt, before he lifted his head sharply. "I said longer, not-" He shook his head. "Never mind."
Rose grinned to herself, her mind going back to when she and Reinette had made their entrance in the console room earlier on. Her eyes had been trained on him, so she didn't miss the bob of his Adam's apple, the minute widening of his pupils. She thought she could see his heartsbeat speed up. As he'd wordlessly turned around and led them to the door, she'd exchanged a knowing glance with Reinette.
Now he was looking away from her, at the pockets of celebrities engaged in small talk, servers hovering around them like buzzing bees. His face was neutral, just his slightly knitted brows betrayed his likely annoyance at his earlier fumble.
With a fond smile, Rose leant in, very much inside his space, her knuckles sliding between the lapels of his jacket to tap him lightly on the chest. He startled and turned, but when his eyes met hers, he smiled, and Rose's chest filled with butterflies that had evidently partaken of the champagne.
"All right?" she asked, for no reason at all. It felt the right thing to say.
"Yeah. Yes." There was a moment's hesitation, but he didn't take his gaze away. It was warm, intense, as if there was something he was trying to say with his eyes alone. "We're having a brilliant time, aren't we?"
"Probably a bit too brilliant." she joked, holding up her almost-empty flute.
"That's not what I meant to say." he replied, sober, almost stern. The floor dropped a little under Rose's feet, and this time it wasn't the wine.
"It's-" he began, taking her by surprise, but then cut himself off with a sort of impatient growl.
He turned again towards the party, a sweep of his hand encompassing the finely dressed guests, the extravagant flowers, the sparkling chandeliers kindling a polished glow from the musical instruments.
"This." he pronounced. "What's all this? Vibrations. Sounds in the air, music, of course, very elaborate and skillfully evoked, but still vibration, right? And the light, the temperature, this exact sweet spot calibrated to make everyone feel warm and comfortable?"
He was intent, clearly going somewhere with this, but Rose hadn't the foggiest notion of where. She just looked at him, brow slightly quirked.
"And you know the thing about vibration is, sometimes there can be a resonance. When everything goes in the same direction, or rather, it vibrates in the same way, and it adds up and-" He took her hand, eyes boring into hers, and she wished desperately she had the faintest idea what he was talking about.
"It amplifies, Rose. But it must already be there, you see? The source. The thing underneath."
Oh, for crying out loud. Why did he have to be like that?
"I have no idea what you're saying." she offered—half apologetic, half endeared, and thoroughly exasperated.
"I know." he replied simply, not flustered or annoyed. He looked almost smug, and for a moment Rose teetered on the brink of slapping him. Or kissing him. Or both.
"There you are, right where I left you." Reinette's lilting, pleasant voice called. "Did you enjoy yourself while I was working?"
They both turned to her, taken aback. "Working?" the Doctor asked, tone slightly dazed.
Reinette gave a pointed, knowing smile, while her fingers dipped to her cleavage. A moment later, she picked out the USB stick.
"Wait, did you...?" There was open wonder in the Doctor's tone.
"Our host accosted me while I was fetching a glass and he tried to chat me up," she supplied, self-satisfied, "So I just went with it and asked him to show me around." She brushed a beautifully mussed curl behind her ear. "I managed to distract him long enough to use this" she said, holding up the USB key, "the way you showed us."
"How much, um, distraction?" Rose asked, dreading the answer a little.
"No, no, don't worry!" Reinette hastened to reply. "He was becoming a bit touchy, but I used the perfume. He won't remember a thing," she concluded with a reassuring grin.
Rose grinned back, but she was still reeling. Reinette had carried out the mission while she and the Doctor were- well, whatever that was.
"We'd better go," Reinette said, deftly replacing the stick inside her neckline. "Before someone starts asking questions."
"And what about the only proper entertainment I was able to provide you with since you left Versailles?" the Doctor asked with an amused grin.
"I'm sure you can think of something else."
Rose almost choked on her champagne. Reinette's innuendo was unusually blunt, and it was accompanied by the filthiest look encompassing both of them. Maybe Reinette had had that extra one for courage after all.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "Right. Guess we're going then. After all, we've got a long night ahead."
"So we're going in tonight?" Rose asked, suddenly thrilled.
"I don't see why not. We have the codes," he said, sending a grin Reinette's way. "Strike the iron when it's hot and all that."
Rose's hand found Reinette's and squeezed.
Reinette secured the rope to the belt of her body suit and with her now free hand she unhooked the magnetic stabilizer. One hand still holding the rope, she turned to the side to find Rose, on the wall across the huge fan vent, hanging the same way as her. Rose nodded, and they both turned round towards the Doctor, standing on the pavement some twenty feet below. He was still fiddling around the transmitter, but then raised his hand and gave a single sign.
Reinette turned back to the wall and clamped the stabilizer forcefully to the wall, as Rose was doing the same on the other side. As the device on the ground activated, Reinette saw the red lights of the perimeter dim. The whoosh of the fan slowed down, then it stopped altogether. With another understanding glance at Rose, both reeled themselves down.
"Brilliant job, brilliant!" the Doctor greeted them hushedly. "Now, Rose, you go in first, then Reinette," he instructed. "I'll come last."
"Wait a minute." Rose interrupted. "Why you last?"
"It's so I'll be able to watch your back." he offered.
"That's precisely the problem." Reinette deadpanned under an arched brow.
To his credit, the Doctor didn't flinch. "Fine, if that's the case, I'll go ahead." he said raising his palms. Reinette and Rose shared a meaningful nod.
As they climbed up to the vent and proceeded to crawl through the passage, Reinette let her mind wander to the two preceding her.
She had thoughts about her two travelling companions.
The Doctor—well, she'd lie to herself if she said she wasn't thoroughly allured. Reinette wasn't used to falling for men—normally, it was the other way round. She knew how to play the game, she knew when to give and when to hold back. But if there was a woman who could remain indifferent to him, to that intoxicating blend of playfulness and intensity, it surely wasn't her.
And Rose—she adored Rose. Kind, brave, funny Rose. Her golden laughter bounced across the TARDIS like music, kindling joy and warmth out of the alien metal walls. Reinette could see perfectly well why the Doctor was so drawn to her.
And there was no doubt he was. Every day she watched with fond exasperation as they danced around each other, denied the obvious and said all the wrong words, while the pull between them blazed bright like a bonfire for those with eyes to see.
Reinette basked in that light, drawn ever closer in their orbit as if by a subterranean current. And she knew they weren't indifferent to her, either. She'd noticed the way Rose's hand reached for hers any time they were close, the way the Doctor's eyes followed her across the room.
Their days, in the strange ship they called home, were soft and unresolved, feelings hanging in the air like golden threads. Hands brushing, eyes meeting over a cup. A hushed giggle for no reason at all. Reinette enjoyed the thrill of it way too much to be the one to tip it over the edge.
She almost bumped into Rose. The Doctor had reached the end of the passage and was opening the grate.
"Wait, you have to unscrew them one by one?" Rose asked, nose wrinkled in the blue light of the sonic.
"How do I unscrew twelve bolts other than one at a time?" he tossed back, an impatient edge to his tone.
A couple of minutes later they descended into the main hall of the building. Despite the scale, the objects around them were indistinct in the dark. There was a glass dome in the middle of the ceiling, but the night was clouded. Only the red traces of the laser tripwires were clearly visible, sweeping the floor.
Reinette watched Rose advance hugging the wall, every movement deliberate and fluid, the sinuous curve of her back enhanced by the skin-tight body suit.
Rose reached her target, a panel next to the far door, and disabled the laser array with a few touches. Next she flicked a hand above her head, barely visible in the semi-darkness, and Reinette replaced the mirror she was holding to shield Rose. She replied with an identical flick, then quickly crept towards the controls for the second laser array on the other side of the hallway.
She crawled on all four, then covered an exposed stretch with a somersault. There was no denying the suit was convenient—it hugged her form with no slack, and no flaps or loose fabric that could get caught.
When she'd first seen the garment and learned that's what she and Rose'd be wearing, Reinette had been perplexed. It'd seemed too tight, too revealing, leaving nothing to the imagination. The thought had crossed her mind that she'd been more clothed in bed.
Reinette was used to the game of dressing, where she could choose with exact intent what to reveal and what to keep hidden. It was a careful, precise art, and one at which she excelled. This—this was something else entirely.
The Doctor had insisted it was merely functional, and definitely, he had a point there—but Reinette had caught him looking. More than once.
She smirked at the thought, and intentionally stretched a bit more than needed when reaching for the panel above her head. She tapped the sequence, then turned around, still fixed in that somewhat alluring pose.
Both were looking right at her. Rose nodded in acknowledgement, but it seemed to Reinette the nod came a second too late. The Doctor had his gaze fixed on her, and he didn't look away.
Good.
A moment later they had joined her, and they rapidly made their way to the central glass case, right under the dome. Reinette kept watch while the Doctor disabled the alarm and Rose cut the glass with the diamond-pointed lancet.
"Gotcha." the Doctor whispered, and she turned in time to see his hand close around a lumpy, dark mass.
"But-I thought it was a gemstone!" Reinette couldn't hold back. "It looks like a-"
"It's a coprolite." the Doctor supplied levelly. "Fossilized dung of Ximptipede, a long-extinct species native to Borismer. According to the local religion, the deities gave the ximptipedes to the Borismerians as a gift. But the Borismerians grew idle and arrogant, so the deities sent a plague that killed every last ximptipede."
"But that's so stupid!" Rose interjected in a hush, her cheeks darkened, her eyes glinting. "What the hell had the poor ximptipedes to do with the Borismerians behaving badly?"
The Doctor shrugged "I agree, but anyway, that's how the myth goes. And it's foretold, as long as the Borismerians hold on to the relics like this Stone, the deities might one day walk back on their punishment and give the ximptipedes back to them."
Reinette shook her head, still reeling. "I cannot fathom what Tau Eggerson might want with-"
"Let me answer to that, my dear." A nasal, unpleasant voice cut her off, just as all the lights in the hall turned on, blazing in on them.
A dozen fully-armed men surrounded them from all directions, cocking their weapons at them, and Mr. Tau Eggerson was facing them on the other side of the case, lips pulled in a smug smile. Reinette truly had no desire to see again the compound eyes, black and reflective like a fly's, and the proboscis coiled above the human mouth.
"Mr. Tau Eggerson!" the Doctor greeted cheerily, "Fancy meeting you again! Twice a night, what are the odds?"
Eggerson sniggered, his hideous proboscis wobbling slightly. "The odds are certain, Doctor, as long as you keep intruding into my property. First at the party, with that poor attempt at fooling me—and now here, in my Display Room-" He paused, tilting his head. "Though I still can't figure out how you got past the alarm system."
Reinette covertly heaved a sigh of relief. The perfume had worked. At least that horrid man had no memories of her using her coquettish arts on him. She doubted she'd have survived the shame of being face to face with him otherwise.
The proboscis coiled more tightly on Eggerson's face, and he resumed, "I was clocking you the whole time, Doctor. You see, when one has a collection as extensive and as valuable as mine, one has to keep an eye out for troublemakers. I have my sources, and I was informed as soon as you and your assistants popped up in this quadrant."
"We're not his assistants." Rose cut in, indignant.
Reinette's eyes flicked upward in a fond half-eyeroll. She'd have let Eggerson think they were assistants—it would work to their advantage if he underestimated them. But Rose, of course, couldn't let it stand.
"Whatever," Eggerson continued, unbothered. "I assure you, my dear, the ysaminos won't tell the difference."
Both she and Rose turned to the Doctor at the foreign word.
"They're fish." he supplied with a handwave. "Carnivorous fish, needle-sharp teeth, lots of them. But they live in space, obviously—as the name implies."
There was nothing obvious about the name, but questions of etymology in a foreign language seemed far less pressing than the prospect that was presented to them.
"Come on, Doctor," Eggerson spoke suavely, "Hand over the Stone, and I'll consider showing some mercy." His lips curled into an evil smile. "I could even let one of your assistants go. Of course, you get to decide which one."
"Oh, I don't know about that," the Doctor replied with a smirk. "See, I have little to no control over their comings and goings." The emphasis on the last word was so slight it would have escaped anyone but them.
Reinette covertly shot a look at Rose, and sure enough, she was leaning down imperceptibly, her fingers apparently adjusting the strap at her thigh. Reinette tensed, ready to act.
Everything happened in a blur after that. Rose dropped the vial to the floor—it shattered with a tiny, crystalline sound, and the smoke mushroomed around them before any of the men could react. Reinette's right was already at the holster on her left hip. She wrenched the hook gun out and pointed it upwards at the glass dome as the flare of the Doctor's coat came around them both. He passed an arm around her waist, grappling her belt just above the holster, and she fired—a sharp shot in the smoke, then crystal shattering, raining over them. The Doctor's arm tightened around her waist.
She tugged once to make sure the hook had caught, then her finger closed on the winch trigger—no way to know if the anchor could support the three of them, no time to find out.
The cable reeled, and they were soaring above the smoke, gunfire exploding around them, her arm wrapped around the cable, the other around the Doctor's shoulder. From under the Doctor's arm, face framed by the flap of his coat, Rose grasped her thigh for support and grinned up at her—but the Doctor's face was tight.
Next the edge was at them, and Reinette let go of the cable and grabbed the roof—a second later, the Doctor's arm rolled free of her waist to grab the edge, and Rose's hand unwrapped from around her leg. Reinette hauled herself up the roof, snapped the rolling cable off her belt, and rolled over, grabbing Rose's arms, helping her scramble over and out of the line of fire.
The Doctor pushed himself up, seemingly pausing to sweep away a speck of dust from the lapel of his coat. Then he looked down at them, a smirk cracking his tense expression, and said just one word.
"Run."
Rose leant back into the couch, popping a chocolate in her mouth. The decadent pralines had been Reinette's request, and the Doctor had assured he could source the best in the galaxy.
The one that was currently melting in her mouth was gorgeous, the filling tasting like coconut, but tangy and with a hint of warm spice. Rose tipped her head back, not completely managing to bite back a pleasured moan. When she opened her eyes she found both the Doctor's and Reinette's gaze riveted on her with hungry stares.
Reinette was the first to look away. She ostensibly picked up a praline, inspected it with a critical eye, then bit lightly into it, savouring the chocolate with eyes closed.
"So? What's the verdict?" the Doctor asked, his tone light.
The slightest tip of Reinette's tongue touched her upper lip, a movement so tiny Rose could think she'd imagined it, if it wasn't for the way her heart sped up.
"Acceptable." Reinette declared, and the Doctor smirked, counting a score in their little game. Rose loved the way Reinette kept him on his toes—she could keep watching them all night.
Instead, as Reinette finished the second half of the chocolate, she settled more comfortably on the sofa, her knees melting against Rose's tucked feet. "I still can't believe we almost ended up fed to space fish for a coprolite."
"Nah." The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "The ysaminos were never an option. See, I know for a fact they are extinct. So whatever carnivorous space fish Mr. Tau Eggerson is keeping, they cannot be ysaminos."
"But we're still talking carnivorous fish, no?" Rose observed.
"Well, yes," he conceded. "Anyway, I'm sure we'd have figured something out." he concluded easing back into his side of the couch with a dark chocolate he put in his mouth.
Rose and Reinette exchanged a meaningful glance, but before either of them could say anything, the Doctor resumed, "The next assignment will have no such risks."
"Assignment?" Rose asked with a cocked brow.
"Mission, task, operation—however you like to call them."
"No way." Reinette stated crossing her arms, in a tone that broke no argument.
After a moment's hesitation, Rose crossed her arms too.
The Doctor eyed the two of them for nearly a full minute. His face was neutral, but Rose knew he was smirking.
"Too bad." he said finally with an exaggerated sigh. "Means I'll have to go alone. You can wait for me in the TARDIS, I shouldn't be gone for more than a week. I only need to contact the resort to change the reservation."
"Wait- resort?" Rose asked despite herself.
"Yeah, the Crystal Sands Resort on Moana Samudra. It's an ocean planet, see, and it's tidally locked, so they're chock-full of tourists all year round. Getting the Pacific Paradise Villa was hellishly difficult. But of course, since you-"
"We're coming!" Rose and Reinette chimed in in unison.
Now he was definitely smirking, and Rose had the absurd and slightly dangerous thought that maybe this new mission would be the time she'd finally manage to wipe that smirk off his face with a kiss.