Dreaming the Impossible

He Wears His Face, 1/1

2008-04-15T20:34:42Z

Title: He Wears His Face

Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, the Matron

Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this. It’s just a tad angsty, so be forewarned.

Spoilers: Up through Human Nature/Family of Blood

Summary: We know that the Doctor and John Smith were two entirely different individuals. Taking that, if it had been Rose instead of Martha and John Smith saw Rose as nothing more than a maid, what would Rose’s reaction be to seeing John Smith, the man who wears the Doctor’s face, pursuing the Matron?

Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Drat them.

Author’s Note: After a lapse of writing (studying abroad in England and all takes a lot out of you. Especially watching Doctor Who on an actual television on its original airdate), I was struck by the plot bunnies and have finally produced a fic (and there was much rejoicing). Big thanks to starxd_sparrowcause, seriously, she’s like the best beta ever :-)

He Wears His Face

He truly was a different man. When he grasped her shoulders and had told her, pleading with his eyes for her to understand, that it wouldn’t be him once the process had finished, she had shook it off as another one of his overprotective rants, filing it along with “Don’t run off” and “don’t pet the fuzzy bunnies on Juxyup VIIII.”

But now she saw that he hadn’t been exaggerating how changing from two hearts to one would make him an entirely new man physically, but that his personality would, as well. The transformation was most apparent in the eyes. His eyes, once a fathomless pool of age and memories, had turned into hardened orbs without spark or compassion.

This new man, this… John Smith, was nothing like her Doctor. Her Doctor was selfless, kind, and beautiful. The only thing “Professor Smith” had in common with the Doctor was they wore the same face. The same face that haunted her whenever she looked at him, knowing that the man she knew no longer inhabited the body. Instead, his soul – his precious, broken, ever-loving soul – lay inside an ancient watch, sitting out for everyone to see.

At times the watch sang to her while she dusted his quarters. She could hear the melodious music reaching for her, telling her to hold it, just for a moment, so she could feel him and he her. Just as she was about to give, Professor Smith would come bumbling in without fail, muttering to himself and not giving her a second glance.

To him, she was just a lowly maid, paid to keep his room clean and meals hot. She was to be seen and not heard, to keep to the shadows when people of “high authority” passed. She was, by all means, invisible.

She was back to being the shop girl at Henrik’s, looked down upon by women in Armani jumpers and Burberry trousers. Except now it was adolescent boys with a God complex, roaming the halls, causing trouble, and streaking mud across the freshly cleaned floors.

But she could handle it. The random groping of her backside by a frisky student, the occasional lecture about her lack of the concept of time, even the uncomfortable and constricting dresses. She even adjusted to the idea that the man who wore his face was not her Doctor.

It wasn’t important that his “Journal of Impossible Things” had a large portion about her. Or that he occasionally murmured her name in his sleep, and if she closed her eyes as he did so, she could almost feel him lightly grazing her cheek. It was enough to hold her for the remaining time.

But even that was no consolation to his courting the Matron.

The moment he asked to escort the Matron to the dance, she’d almost dropped the tray she was carrying. It took more willpower then she possessed to hold back tears and the unseemly urge to vomit.

For all her time spent travelling with him, he’d never once taken her out on a proper date. Too domestic for him, she reasoned. She knew he loved her; it was understood through his never-ending need to hold her hand, his constant hugs, and his thorough kisses. The detail that he’d spent every waking moment trying to get her back from Pete’s World was not lost on her. She knew her loved her more deeply than she could ever comprehend.

But all of that didn’t make any easier to watch his doppelgänger swan around with another woman.

No longer possessing the willpower to refuse its allure, she stole the watch. Swiped it clean off the shelf and into her pocket. It was easier than nicking vests from TopShop, and besides, she’d seen that Latimer boy ogling it, tracing the detail with his eyes, his fingers twitching at his sides, itching to seize it. There was no way a gawky teenager was taking the last piece of the Doctor away from her.

When she’d returned to her room after work had finished, she’d taken it from her apron, unwrapped it from a weathered kerchief and cradled it in her hands. She could feel him, his presence surrounding her as she caressed the swirling symbols engraved upon it and received his reassuring comfort. It was enough, for now, to get her through to the end.

But when those blasted aliens – oh, how she hated them – came crashing into her planet and proceeded to make life Hell, there were no second thoughts. She grabbed Professor Smith, tearing him away from the Matron – feeling a small, juvenile victory – and dragged him back towards the school.

The Doctor had told her she need only be near enough to open the watch to free him back into his body. But she stood there, hand gripped tightly around the watch and eyes screwed tightly together, unable to take away the life, no matter how fabricated, of another person.

It had to be his decision. To know that one tiny, minuscule part of her Doctor was trapped inside this apparently different man. She’d knelt in front of him and reverently, she placed the watch in his hands, watching as he held it, his eyes full of fear and uncertainty.

“Please,” she murmured desperately, tears beginning to fall. “You must save us.”

But this man, this selfish and egotistical man, inhabiting her Doctor’s body could think of nothing but himself. He wanted marriage, children, to grow old and die. To love and be loved.

“I love you,” she cried, desperately, tears falling heavily. “I love you.”

And for a moment, so quickly she’d almost missed it, she could see her Doctor in his eyes. It was then that Smith stood, mouth set in a grim line and his face impassive. Without reservation, he opened the watch.

Golden tendrils, ones she knew quite intimately, seeped out, coiling around Smith’s body, enveloping him.

Breath held, she waited as the last golden strands disappeared. He continued to stand, evenly breathing until finally, his eyes opened, carrying their familiar age and wisdom. A cheeky grin appeared. “Did you miss me?”

She leapt from the floor and into his arms, hugging him tightly. He’d extracted himself carefully, placed a light kiss on her forehead and grabbed her hand, rushing them through the halls of the Academy until they reached his quarters. He pushed her inside and told her firmly to stay exactly where she was. There was something new in his voice that caused her not to argue. She stayed in the confines of the room, worrying and pacing the room. When a bright flash came from the woods, she gripped the windowsill to prevent herself running after him. He returned, looking slightly rumpled and grabbed her hand, explaining as he wound through the corridors that they needed to return to the TARDIS immediately to avoid questions; she’d merely nodded.

Before she could leave this time and its memories, the Doctor told her he needed to speak with the Matron. She’d been apprehensive, needing no reminding of the closeness Smith and the Matron had shared or how she had envied that intimacy. But she knew that the Doctor needed closure. He held Smith’s memories, knew the feelings he had felt, and had received the ones the Matron had given in return. To him, it was the reasonable thing to do in order for him to move on.

So she’d stood out of earshot, watching as he explained about himself, John Smith, and the Family to a woman that refused to believe what he was saying. His posture, hands shoved deeply in pockets and back hunched, belied the fact this reception was unusually hard for him to accept. He shared John Smith’s memories, and to bear such a chilly reception from a woman who had so recently welcomed him warmly was hard. Rose saw her reflection in the Matron – there sat a heartbroken woman who looked upon a different man wearing her love’s face.

The Doctor had simply nodded in understanding and departed without a second glance, brushing past Rose. She saw the silent tears that tracked down the Matron’s cheeks and knew that her cold reception part of the mourning process. She felt a pang of guilt; Rose had recovered the love she had lost in exchange of the Matron losing hers.

After disposing of the Family upon a lifeless, but bountiful, planet, Rose and her Doctor returned to the TARDIS. As he set coordinates to move them into the vortex, Rose came to stand beside him.

“I saw you,” she murmured, finger tracing a stripe on his jacket. “Just for a moment, before he opened the watch.” Her eyes rose to meet his. “What did you say?”

He lifted a hand to graze her cheek and was silent for a moment. “I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. I merely let him feel exactly how I do for you.”

She wet her lips and closed her eyes briefly to revel in his touch. Her hand traced the console idly. “And how is that?”

His hand moved slightly, cupping her cheek. “Exactly like this.” And while she had shared countless kisses with him, never had he passed emotions through. There were no words to describe adequately the overwhelming joy, happiness, and love that flowed from his lips into her mind. It left no doubts the one thing that had kept her sane through her suffering: the Doctor loved her more than anything could ever express. In this universe or the next.

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Dreams and Journey, Chapter Five

2007-12-01T05:08:12Z

Title: Dreams and Journey, Chapter Five

Author: dreamin_hope

Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Martha, OCs

Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this

Spoilers: Canon

Summary: It may be impossible for a single Time Lord to shift between Alternate Universes, but will that stop other civilizations from trying? What happens when Torchwood gets the bright idea to attempt time travel?

Disclaimer: BBC owns all (the only thing they're letting my keep in the storyline...).

Author’s Note: School's begun, so I don't have the large amount of free time on my hands any longer, so the lapse between parts is gonna be a bit. But no worries, I'll be finishing it :-) Also, a big thanks to starxd_sparrow for betaing :-)
Previous Parts: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

CHAPTER FIVE

Rose had always fantasized that her transportation back to her proper universe would involve the Doctor in some way. She daydreamed about him waltzing into her Torchwood office, smug as ever, mentally patting himself on the back for making it into the universe without killing everyone.

Or in a brief stroke of genius, she would somehow get the yellow Void button she kept in the back right corner of her office desk to miraculously transport her back by using a little jiggery-pokery and luck.

Either way, each one ended with a glorious reunion complete with a proper snog and admissions of love.

However, the Daleks had gone and ruined all her fantasies when they decided to pop over to Torchwood One, threaten everyone’s life, and shuttle her back to her universe.

Rose frowned. Bloody Daleks, always spoiling everything.

She slid her gaze over to Vivian, who showed no emotions. It was obvious that Torchwood had hardly any information on the Daleks. If they had gone into this knowing that the Daleks were homicidal deformed aliens with a god-complex, Torchwood One was more stupid and egotistical than she remembered. Even without Yvonne Hartman.

“What’s the deal with these oversized pepperpots?” Rose asked casually.

Vivian glanced up from the paperwork strewn across her desk and looked over at Rose. “All information pertaining to previous species catalogued by Torchwood One was lost after the Battle of Canary Wharf. An untraceable virus took down the remaining information.”

A ghost of a smirk flitted across Rose’s face. An untraceable virus sounded like it had been the Doctor’s idea. He knew the value of information and what it could do to people and time. The Cybermen had been a natural progression of her second universe, not her first, and the information could drastically change history. Large, laser shooting metal men had been bad enough, but couple that with the information about the Daleks and the whole of space and time could have been damaged.

Still, a blank spot in Torchwood’s memory banks didn’t explain how no one knew anyting of the Daleks, however. After all, the prison ship had unleashed thousands of them upon London, and people had surely noticed the two battling it out for the title of “Superior Species.”

“I was at the Battle of Canary Wharf.”

Vivian rewarded Rose’s statement with a hard stare. “Impossible. All civilians involved in the Canary Wharf incident had their memories wiped.”

“You could say I’ve been out of town for a while,” Rose replied cheekily.

Vivian’s lips pursed in annoyance. “Miss Tyler, I haven’t an idea what the Daleks want with you and personally, I don’t care. My job is to progress civilization, and you are the key to that progress. I am a very busy and have no desire to discuss past history or the goings-on of this operation in which it does not concern you.”

A hard knock at the door stole Rose’s chance to retort. Both women looked expectantly to the door as it opened and an aide stepped inside.

“The Dalek leader wants to speak with you,” the aide informed Vivian, stealing a curious glance at Rose.

Rose met his look straight on, undeterred, and raised a questioning eyebrow. The look from the aide meant the Daleks had something else in store for her. The thought made her swallow hard and she took several deep breaths to calm herself.

Vivian’s eyebrows raised at the exchange between Rose and the aide as she shooed the latter out with her hand. “I’ll be down momentarily. Don’t allow anything to start before I arrive.”

He nodded and stole a final glance at Rose before exiting to room.

“Miss Tyler, if you’ll join me in the laboratory.”

Rose stood and followed Vivian out of the office. As they descended the stairs into the spacious room, she saw the Daleks agitatedly rolling around the floor, their lifeless mechanical voices piercing the air. She swallowed, attempting to keep her fear at bay and continued to follow Vivian down into the room and came to stand in front of the Daleks.

“You wanted to speak with me?” Vivian’s voice was crisp and business-like, as though she was speaking with a foreign dignitary and not an alien species that could kill everyone at a moment’s notice.

“IT IS TIME TO MOVE TO A MORE SE-CURE LO-CA-TION,” one screeched as the others rolled their apparent agreement.

“Why? Is our laboratory not meeting your needs?” Vivian crossed her arms, a stance that Rose had come to recognize as defensive precursor to dispute.

“THE ON-COM-ING STORM HAS FOUND THE LA-BOR-A-TORY SOON-ER THAN AN-TI-CI-PA-TED. WE MUST RE-LO-CATE.”

Vivian’s eyebrows lifted. “If this Oncoming Storm has already found us, then we have no time to pack up the electronics.”

The Daleks cackled, and goose pimples popped up all over Rose’s skin. Her composure wavered, and she closed her eyes, drawing deep breaths into her lungs to calm herself. If the Daleks could sense the Doctor nearby, that meant he was coming. Hope shoved fear into the back of her heart, making room for relief and calm. She knew the Doctor would save her; he always did.

A Dalek voice broke through her reverie. “RE-LO-CA-TION WILL BE SIM-PLE. EV-ERY-THING WILL BE MOVED TO-GETHER.”

“Together?” There was a hint of surprise in Vivian’s voice, and Rose’s sense of dread began to rise again. Any technology that could move an entire room worth of equipment had to be from off-world and the aftereffects from it could be disastrous.

“YES. THE EN-TIRE ROOM WILL BE MOVED I-MME-DI-ATE-LY.”

A familiar smell wafted into Rose’s nostrils and recognition crossed her face. Her hair stood on end and then every individual molecule within her body felt as though it was being torn apart. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and the room dissolved into nothingness.

She hadn’t noticed she had squeezed her eyes shut until the sounds of the room reached her ears. Opening them, she saw the laboratory employee’s amazement as they touched themselves and everyone around them, obviously attempting to understand how an entire room could have been moved in a few seconds. Vivian was already talking with a department head, her stance and gestures displaying her excitement of yet another new technology that could help both her job and society.

Rose’s eyes moved to the window, noting the brightly lit city below her. Peering out the window, she was unable to place where the Daleks had moved the room. There was no River Thames or any other major landmark she knew. Wherever the Daleks had taken everyone, she knew it was beneficial to whatever scheme they were involved in, and all Rose could do was hope the Doctor would find them before the Daleks had time to enact their plan.

–

Martha particularly hated dark hallways. She could deal with stone assassins and insects the size of her car, but to stick her in a small enclosed dark hallway could cause problems. The fact that she hadn’t stayed safely outside by the Tube station after the Doctor had bounded into the dark hallway was a testament for her faith in him.

After all, she had walked the Earth alone to reverse the effects of the Master’s laser screwdriver on the Doctor. Even at night, however, she had been in a large open space and she’d had the reassuring weight of the TARDIS key to help soothe any of her fears of being spotted by the Toclafane.

Now, a year later and her Torchwood experiences under her belt, dark, oppressive hallways still scared the hell out of her. It was all Leo’s fault, really. He had enjoyed hiding behind doors to wait for her or Tish to walk by before springing out, wearing a hideous mask and screaming like a banshee.

Even in her twenties, the memories of being horribly frightened still affected her. And now her eyes were rapidly moving around the space, anticipating any slight movement that would give away some sort of enemy. She was ready, a quick kick into a lower extremity brought most species to the ground in some form of pain.

The Doctor came to a sudden stop outside a non-descript building and Martha skidded to a halt behind him, almost colliding with him and jolting her from her thoughts. She peered over his shoulder and slid her eyes over to his face, seeing that he had begun fiddling with settings on the sonic screwdriver.

“It’s strongest here,” he told her, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the lock and hearing it click. Martha watched in anticipation as the Doctor reached for the doorknob and the door swung open. They both stuck their heads in, scouting the room before entering the room.

At one point, the room seemed to have been used as a laboratory, but was now completely empty except for the few chairs and tables that remained. All equipment, electronics, and people were gone except for a metallic dome sitting alone on the center table.

“Someone’s into theatrics,” Martha commented dryly to the Doctor, nodding towards the object.

The Doctor glanced over at it and Martha saw a flicker of recognition before he began moving around the room, bathing objects in a soft blue light as he scanned them. He nodded to himself, tucking the screwdriver back into his suit breast pocket. Martha watched with a faint look of disgust as he licked the wall. She was surprised he hadn’t picked up any incurable diseases with the amount of objects he put in his mouth.

“They moved this entire laboratory to another place,” the Doctor told her, running his hand along the wall and grimacing slightly when he hit a spot where the energy was particularly high. “They used ionic energy to transport almost everything out of this room. Brilliant! I’ve only seen a move of this size once before. Rose and I,” Martha watched as he swallowed harshly at the memory. “We went to the 2012 Olympics and there was a young girl stealing people out of reality and putting them into drawings. I even ended up in one myself! It was actually a bit of fun. Got to draw. With colored pencils! I don’t draw nearly as much as I wo–”

“Doctor!”Martha interrupted his rambling, raising her eyebrows at his loss of focus.

He closed his mouth was a snap, smiling sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. Sorry.”

“Who transported the room?” Martha asked, running a hand over the edge of desk. She noted she didn’t feel whatever it was the Doctor had, but chose not to tell him. No need to get him started on a lecture about whatever this “ionic energy” was.

The Doctor picked the dome up from the table and turned it over in his hands slowly. He took a deep breath and turned to her, a look of worry etched across his face. “The Daleks.”

Martha felt her mouth fall open as she felt both fear and disbelief creep into her body. “The Daleks?”

The Doctor nodded, pointing the sonic screwdriver at it before turning towards Martha, a large manic grin on his face. “Let’s find out where they’ve gone, shall we? I’m rather good with following transports.”

Dreams and Journey, Chapter Four

2007-09-30T21:19:06Z

Title: Dreams and Journey, Chapter Four

Author: dreamin_hope

Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Martha, OCs

Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this

Spoilers: Canon

Summary: It may be impossible for a single Time Lord to shift between Alternate Universes, but will that stop other civilizations from trying? What happens when Torchwood gets the bright idea to attempt time travel?

Disclaimer: BBC owns all (the only thing they're letting my keep in the storyline...).

Author’s Note: School's begun, so I don't have the large amount of free time on my hands any longer, so the lapse between parts is gonna be a bit. But no worries, I'll be finishing it :-) Also, a big thanks to my betas, erin2326 and starxd_sparrowcause they rock my socks :-)
Previous Parts: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

CHAPTER FOUR

Sometimes Rose believed her days working at Torchwood were no different than the ones spent working in a shop. Save for being on assignment, she found her life a never ending cycle of receptiveness. Weekly meetings held constant places in her schedule, and mountains of paperwork for various departments beckoned her attention.

She chuckled. She had a schedule. Never needed one before since time was relative in the TARDIS. Maybe she’d been spoiled by the spontaneous and crazy life she’d led alongside the Doctor. Being back in the real world, altered reality or not, she found everyday life mind-numbing and would find herself wandering into old memories, memories where she found herself running for her life or looking for a way to stop the enemy.

She smiled softly. Perhaps she was a restless spirit, like the Doctor.

She gently felt the spot where she knew her TARDIS key was hidden beneath her blouse. It was the only reminder from her proper universe. She had nothing else; no pictures, no letters, and none of the trinkets from various worlds. When she’d been transported to this world for the third and final time, she’d only been able to take what she’d been wearing.

Momentary pain startled her as a brief flash of heat went through the key. “Odd,” she murmured, lifting it out from under her top by the chain. She held it, rubbing the pad of her thumb slowly over it. It wasn’t glowing, as it did when the TARDIS was near, but it was certainly warm.

There was another shot of heat. Rose dropped the key and looked into her palm, noting the slight redness there. Something was definitely going on.

The wind blew a stray strand of hair into her face and she tucked it behind her ear, continuing to examine the key. Pausing, she noted there was no wind coming from her office window. It was utterly calm outside. Rose looked up from her hand and around the office for the source of the breeze and felt her lips part in astonishment.

There, hovering over the rows of cubicles was a large, swirling blue vortex.

It wasn’t a hallucination, either, as all the employees saw it as well, staring up at it, mouths agape. Torchwood had come across Cybermen, water-materializing aliens, and fatal hiccups, but a wormhole opening in the middle of Canary Wharf? That was a new one.

The sound of the armed guards and the breeze added to the gravity of the situation, but Rose paid little attention to them as they positioned themselves around the room. There was an eerie calm in the room; Torchwood employees had seen enough oddities in their line of work to forgo any rash emotions. They simply stood, speechless, and let the task force deal with it.

A loud humming began to emit from the vortex, and two familiar silhouettes began to emerge. Rose’s body stiffened and dread coursed through her veins. Those shapes were all too familiar.

One after the other, two Daleks emerged from the vortex. Both head casings swiveled to survey the room, and Rose grew cold as their lifeless voices resounded in the silent room.

“WHERE IS THE A-BOM-I-NA-TION? BRING HER TO US! WE WILL EX-TER-MI-NATE YOU IF YOU FAIL TO COM-PLY!”

On cue, the soldiers opened fire, their bullets doing no damage as they hit the Dalek’s force field. Amidst the confusion, Rose forgot about her own terror as she sprinted out the office door and into the frenzied room. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she gritted her teeth and looked at the Daleks. “Not again.”

–

Martha leaned against the railing of a Tube entrance, her arms folded across her chest as she regarded the Doctor patiently. One thing she had learned during her travels with the Doctor was that once there was an idea in his head, her involvement was usually unnecessary. Observation suited her just fine, however, as she always found amusement in his genius ramblings.

Her musings were interrupted as the Doctor stopped talking and popped a finger into his mouth. He held the wet digit up to the sky, seemingly testing the air, before putting it back into his mouth.

“Just as I thought.” His words somewhat slurred from the finger in his mouth. “Someone’s been playing with the fabric of space.”

Martha raised her eyebrows. “And you can tell that from sticking your finger in your mouth?”

Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, the Doctor smiled cheekily and rocked back onto his heels. “I’ll have you know I happen to have a rather advanced sense of taste.”

“Oh?” Martha gave him a disbelieving look. “And does this normally come in handy?”

He gave her a smirk. “Oh, you have no idea.” The smile turned into a large grin as he pulled out the sonic screwdriver and directed it towards the lock, a crisp click signaling its success. “Right then, a big bad energy signal is coming from this building. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Martha grinned, pushing away from the railing and following him into the darkened building.

–

Rose wasn’t aware she’d moved until she found herself standing in the empty space before the Daleks. The entire room’s attention was focused on her, breathlessly waiting her actions. The armed guards had since been vaporized and now she, Rose Tyler, head of New Alien Species and daughter of Pete Tyler, Torchwood director, stood firmly between the Daleks and the human race. She was and always would be the Defender of the Earth.

“What do you want?” Rose demanded, her stance rigid.

“IT IS VI-TAL FOR YOU TO COME WITH US.”

She stared unwavering at the Dalek’s eye stock, her eyes betraying nothing. “Why me?”

“YOU ARE THE A-BOM-I-NA-TION!”

Her stoic look faltered for a moment as a look of fear passed over her face. That phrase had never been uttered since Satellite Five. She and the Doctor had made an unspoken decision to leave those events in the past. Now, she only heard the name in her dreams, just as she heard the other names she had been given.

She seemed to have a knack for receiving pseudonyms; the Bad Wolf, the Valiant Child, Defender of the Earth. She was really going to have to write all these down to keep track of them.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

One Dalek’s head moved to survey the mass of people in front of it. “WE WILL KILL EV-ERY-ONE.”

Rose had known the answer before she’d asked. The last time they’d threatened to kill Mickey. She frowned at the two Daleks and moved toward the wormhole. Time to do her duty for mankind. “It was worth a shot, yeah?”

Upon hearing her consent, one of the office aides blurted out fearfully, “Rose, you musn’t go! You’ll get killed!””

Rose paused, biting her lower lip between her teeth and turned her head to look at the woman. “But if I don’t, you probably will.”

She turned back, observing offhandedly that the impending vortex vaguely reminded her of the bottomless black hole on the sanctuary base years ago. Hair and skin prickled as she neared the wormhole, making her shiver slightly, and she sensed the pull of the vortex and allowed herself to be drawn in. As she entered she felt a sense of abandon and peace and gave herself to it.

–

Vivian watched, slightly amused, as one of the office aides skidded into her office, panting from his flight up the stairs.

“Ms. Carmichael!” The aide sucked in a needed breath. “The wormhole has reappeared!”

The office chair bounced hard against the office cupboard as she hurried out of the office to the main laboratory, anticipation tingling through her body. The Daleks had mentioned they were searching through the universes for the Abomination. She had no idea, however, what exactly this Abomination was, and the Daleks were not ones to give unneeded information.

The vortex continued to grow as Vivian descended onto the floor and crossed to stand behind the marked safety lines. The now familiar figures of the Daleks appeared and between them a shape that was decidedly humanoid. The Abomination, perhaps?

As they materialized, Vivian blinked, seeing that the shape was definitely human. A human woman, in fact, who seemed unaffected by the fact that she had just been through a vortex.

An unimpressed look on her face, the woman regarded her surroundings, arms crossed over her chest as she stated wryly, “I should have known this universe’s Torchwood would be behind this.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow at the woman’s remark and coolly inquired, “And you are?”

The woman turned her head and looked at Vivian, tongue poking out slightly between her teeth. “The Abomination, of course.”

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Popped Out For Some Chips, 1/1

2007-09-07T18:59:12Z

Title: Popped Out For Some Chips

Author: dreamin_hope

Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose

Rating: G

Spoilers: Up through Smith and Jones

Summary: What if Rose never left in Doomsday, but the events of Smith and Jones still happened? What would be her reaction to the “genetic transfer” between the Doctor and Martha? Fluffy little ficlet :-)

Disclaimer: The BBC owns all characters, I was just playing with them for a little bit

Author’s Note: Big thanks to my betas erin2326and starxd_sparrow:-)

Popped Out For Some Chips

Rose had only popped out quickly to grab some chips from the shop around the corner. She hated hospitals, ever since that adventure with Cassandra and the scary cat nuns. She’d just needed to get away from the smell, sight, and feel of the hospital. What better way to do that than to get some tasty chips?

Of course that was the cue for everything to go wrong. She should have known. Last time she and the Doctor had been split up in a hospital, she’d gotten body-snatched and hundreds of disease infested new-humans were let loose.

Rose could only imagine the trouble the Doctor was in now. Too bad he’d made her leave that teleport she’d found on Raxacoricofallapatorius. That might have come in handy right about now. She could just pop up and help the Doctor save the day. But now? All she could do was wait.

She hadn’t thought anything drastic would happen if she left for a bit to get some chips. After all, what could a few plasma coils possibly do?

A lot, apparently, seeing as the entire hospital had disappeared.

The Doctor had been watching the hospital for a few days and everything had seemed to be normal. He had assured her, repeatedly, that nothing too serious would happen while she was out. He even told her to bring back some Jelly Babies from the shop around the corner.

Nothing too serious, hmm? The blasted hospital was gone. Probably abducted by some evil, Earth conquering aliens.

Rose groaned, “Oh, bugger.”

–

“You kissed her?!”

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I had to save hundreds of lives, Rose. It didn’t mean anything.”

“But… you kissed her?” Rose’s voice was soft, hurtful.

He sighed again. Right, normal human emotion of jealousy. Rose was upset because he’d kissed Martha. The whole bit about saving the patients had no bearing on the matter. Her train of thought was way beyond any being’s he’d met thus far.

“Rose… that’s the quickest way of transferring genetic material.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I needed a distraction to hold off the Judoon long enough for the Plasmavore to take my blood so her genetic physiology would be non-human.”

“She drank your blood?!” Rose cried, grabbing his head to inspect his neck for wounds. “Like a vampire? Where are the holes?”

“Actually, she used a straw…” the Doctor muttered offhandedly, slightly distracted by Rose’s wandering hands on his neck.

“A straw?” she inquired, her hands stopped moving and she raised her eyebrows to gaze up at him. “Are you serious?”

“Quite.”

“Where’d she put it?” Rose demanded, running the pads of her fingers over his neck, searching for the wound.

The Doctor brought a finger to the spot just below his chin that was still tingling from the sensation of being sucked dry by a straw. He watched as Rose placed a delicate, lingering kiss at the spot he’d indicated.

Peering up at him through her eyelashes, she questioned softly, “Better?”

“Much,” came his murmured reply.

“Good.” She gave a small smile, her tongue just visible between the slight part in her teeth.

His eyes held hers for a beat before sliding down to rest on her lips. It was at that moment the Doctor decided Rose Tyler had very nice lips and proceeded to do something he swore Hell would freeze over before he would: he kissed her.

Then again, he knew he was damned the moment he’d taken her hand. It’d been a downward spiral ever since the sanctuary base when he’d almost lost her to the Beast. And ever since the battle of Canary Wharf, it’d been almost impossible not to snog her senseless.

Somehow, his hands had moved on their own accord to cradle her face as he deepened the kiss and drew her tongue into his mouth. Rose keened slightly, one hand wrapping around his forearm and the other around his neck, pulling his mouth more forcefully against hers. His hand slipped leisurely down her neck and back to rest on her waist, using it to keep her firmly pressed against him.

They remained like this, kissing tenderly and holding each other close until the Doctor eventually became aware of their surroundings. Those passing on the street were giving disapproving looks, and right now what they didn’t need was unwanted attention.

Gently he pulled away and placed a chaste kiss on her mouth before slowly releasing Rose from his embrace. He took a step back, but kept a hand firmly in his. Silently, hand in hand, the Doctor and Rose walked away from Royal Hope Hospital and back to the TARDIS, ready to continue their new journey together.

~fin
comments are love :-)

Dreams and Journey, Chapter Three

2007-09-06T19:41:16Z

Title: Dreams and Journey, Chapter Three
Author: dreamin_hope
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Martha, OCs
Rating: Nothing worse than the show
Spoilers: Small reference to Army of Ghosts/Doomsday and one teeny, tiny reference to Torchwood
Summary: It may be impossible for a single Time Lord to shift between Alternate Universes, but will that stop other civilizations from trying? What happens when Torchwood gets the bright idea to attempt time travel? A big mess, that's what.

Disclaimer: The BBC owns all (except for the story, that is…).
Author's Note: Thanks to my betas, erin2326 and starxd_sparrow, for taking time to read over my fics :-)
Previous Chapters: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Vivian composed herself as she waited outside the conference room. As usual, the news of a new alien species making contact had infiltrated through the company and made its way to the Board. She hadn’t particularly wanted to speak with them, seeing as how she had a new species to be worried about, but she had no choice in the matter.

She had no information to give them. Her departments had gone through every database Torchwood had access to and had found absolutely no information. That was worse than finding out they were evil, soul sucking aliens who wanted nothing more than to conquer Earth. At least she could let the Board know that. Telling them she didn’t know anything was not something she was particularly looking forward to.

The door opened slowly, and Harold Black stepped out into the hallway to motion her in. “Ms. Carmichael, if you will.”

Vivian took a cleansing breath, wiped any emotion from her face, and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she greeted, standing at the head of the conference table, hands clasped together in front of her. She heard several murmurs as each seated board member situated themselves to look at her.

“Ms. Carmichael,” Harold’s voice boomed from the head of the room. “What information do you have concerning these,” he glanced down at his notes, forming the name awkwardly, “Daleks?”

Vivian took a moment before telling them exactly what she knew. Which was a little more than nothing.

The Board was far from impressed.

“The only information you have on this species is that they have the ability to travel through wormholes?” Harold inquired, raising both eyebrows at her in disbelief.

Vivian remained silent, staring passively at Harold. She knew there was no need to dig the hole she was in any deeper. She did know, however, that they had approved projects with less information.

“Please step outside, Ms. Carmichael, while we reach our decision to whether you should pursue this expenditure.”

Vivian gave a small nod and retreated back into the hallway. She always disliked the time she spent in the hallway waiting for their verdict. If the Board chose not to approve the project, they were sure to dismiss her. She grimaced at the thought of having her memory erased. Vivian wasn’t particularly fond of Retcon after Torchwood Three released their finding that overuse may turn some into homicidal killers. Not exactly something pleasant to look forward to.

She heard the boardroom door open and rose when she was motioned in. She returned to her original location and looked passively at the Board.

“It would seem the only way to enhance our own technology would be to take a leap of faith,” Harold began, his tone dry. “The world, especially our country, will never be able to improve unless we take blind opportunities. You have the full backing of the Board.”

Vivian allowed a small smile to grace her face, but it was as gone as quickly as it came as Harold told her, “But, as always, Ms. Carmichael, should anything go drastically wrong, the Board and its affiliates will deny all association.”

Vivian gave a small nod of acknowledgement and departed from the room. She felt a small amount of dread fall in with her relief. The last person to receive this level of clearance had created the Canary Wharf disaster, and she refused to be remembered as a failure.

–

Everything looked normal, Martha concluded. No major disasters, alien fleets, or slow acting toxins. It looked like a normal day in London. People were going about their everyday business, riding the Tube and having afternoon tea.

The Doctor seemed confused, too. He had figured that the homing beacon meant Daleks screaming “EX-TER-MI-NATE!” as they hostilely took over the Earth. But there wasn’t even one hint of an alien presence. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Quite odd, in his opinion.

The Doctor paused for a moment, looking down to see the hair on the back of his hands stand on end. He took back his original assessment. Something was definitely off. He could feel it in the air, but couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Something’s not right,” the Doctor murmured, reaching into the breast pocket of his coat and drawing out his sonic screwdriver, pointing it towards the sky.

“Doctor?” Martha cast a questioning look at him.

He began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself about disturbances and holes. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously not pleased with what the screwdriver was saying.

“Ha!”

Several people shot startled looks at the Doctor and quickened their pace. Martha bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing as she raised a questioning eyebrow. The Doctor was grinning manically, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“This way!” The Doctor tucked the screwdriver back into his jacket and took off in a full sprint.

Martha sighed before starting after him. “Off we go, then.”

–

Rose Tyler had once known the stars quite intimately. She had raced through time and space, traveled millions, even billions, of light years away from Earth, in any given direction, and had been to hundreds of different planets. She’d visited Ancient Egypt and a seventy-fifth century Neptune colony. And she had done it hand in hand with the Doctor.

Idly, she wondered if she had ever been to those solar systems in her universe.

She smiled as she remembered sitting on the ramp of the TARDIS, the phone booth doors swung open wide and a basket of chips in her lap, as she watched the universe pass before her. Occasionally, the Doctor would sit with her and eat Jelly Babies that sprang miraculously from his suit pocket. Sometimes they would talk and steal each other’s food, but usually they would silently stare out into the vastness of space, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Now, all she could do was lean back into her chair and gaze longingly up into the stars, wondering if one day she would again be able to sit with her Doctor among them.

–

“THE HU-MANS HAVE A-GREED TO AS-SIST US, MA-JESTY,” informed a lifeless, monotone voice from the darkness. “ALL IS GO-ING AS IN-TEND-ED.”

A slight whirring sound was heard as a glass container spun above the darkened floor. Inside sat the Majesty, the blue hued skin of its blob-like body seeming bright against the lightless room.

“Find the Abomination,” it commanded, cold eyes staring out into the dark. “Without it, we will not succeed. The Oncoming Storm cares nothing of itself. The Abomination is what will bring his destruction. He will not bear to lose her twice.”

“THE A-BOM-I-NA-TION?” the voice screeched from its darkened corner.

“Do you contradict me?”

“OF COURSE NOT, MA-JESTY!” the voice quickly appeased. “BUT IF THE ON-COM-ING STORM HAS LOST THE A-BOM-I-NA-TION, WHERE WILL WE FIND HER?

“That is not my concern,” the Majesty dismissed, the glass vessel beginning to turn from the voice. “But without her, we will not succeed. Failure is not permissible.”

All of Time and Forever

2007-08-26T04:09:10Z

Title: All of Time and Forever
Author: dreamin_hope
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Spoilers: Through The Parting of Ways/The Christmas Invasion
Summary: Just a bit of fluff (to make up for Shops and Arguments ;-))
Disclaimer: In a perfect world, Rose and the Doctor would be together, but seeing as this is not, all is owned by the BBC except the words.
Author's Note: Lots o' love to my betas, erin2326 and starxd_sparrow, because they put up with my onslaught of fics :-)

They were married in the same church they’d been in trapped in so long ago. The place where Rose thought she’d lost the Doctor forever, swallowed by a shrieking reaper, the consequence to her rash decision.

“This time,” the Doctor had instructed her, “try not to save someone from their scheduled death. I really would enjoy one day of our lives to be completely disaster-free.”

There were no bridesmaids or groomsmen. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

“But it won’t be a proper wedding!” Jackie had protested, clutching a steaming cup of tea to her chest.

Rose had simply raised her eyebrows to gaze across the kitchen table at her mother and asked, “Since when have we been normal?”

Mickey took the honor of walking her down the aisle, a look of pride and a knowing smile across his face.

“I knew you’d never stay in one place. You’ll follow him anywhere.”

Rose had looked up from her magazine, a small smile flitting across her face. “The Doctor will never settle down, so neither will I.”

He wore a tux from the Wardrobe and she a white silk summer dress from Henrik’s.

“A little something to remind us of how we met,” he had told her cheekily, standing in line at the department store, rolling on the balls of his feet, a silly grin across his face.

They were married by the residing priest. The Doctor promised her all of time and she vowed to stay with him forever.

“You may kiss the bride.”

The Doctor, smiling goofily, slung one arm around Rose, bent her backward and kissed her soundly. Jackie gasped at the display and Mickey rolled his eyes.

They exchanged only simple silver wedding bands. Rose had refused the initial diamond engagement ring, much to the Doctor’s chagrin and Jackie’s shock.

“But it’s from the diamond mines of Jtok X!” he had sputtered, not quite understanding why she wouldn’t take it. “I thought human women loved diamonds!”

“Doctor,” Rose’s tone was patient, as if explaining something to a small child. “With all the running for our lives we do, some alien is bound to use the diamond as relay for some weapon.”

And when he had asked where she wanted to go on their honeymoon, as they did have all of space and time, she told him with a soft smile gracing her face.

“Barcelona.”

~Comments are love :-)

Dreams and Journey, Chapter 2

2007-08-24T20:00:09Z

Title: Dreams and Journey, Chapter 2
Author: dreamin_hope
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Martha
Rating: Nothing worse than the show
Spoilers: References through Season 3
Summary: It may be impossible for a single Time Lord to shift between Alternate Universes, but will that stop other civilizations from trying? What happens when Torchwood gets the bright idea to attempt time travel? A big mess, that's what.
Disclaimer: If I actually owned these characters, I wouldn't have to be writing a reunion fic, would I? They are, unfortunately for me, all owned by the BBC.
Author's Note: Sorry for the lapse, I was on vacation and had no internet except for when I managed to get to Starbucks. Also, a big thanks to my betas, erin2326 and starxd_sparrow, because, well, they're amazing :-)
Cross posted: time_and_chips dwfiction ten_n_tyler doctor_plus_one 10thdoctor

Previous Chapters: Prologue | Chapter 1

CHAPTER TWO

Vivian Carmichael surveyed the laboratory from the veranda of her office. Arms folded, hands resting on her upper arms, her stoic face betrayed nothing of her internal thoughts.

Oh, she was pleased, there was no doubt in that. Especially since the millions of pounds used in research for the sphere had not been used in vain. She hadn’t particularly looked forward to explaining to the Board exactly why her various departments had wasted major funding on a dead end project.

“Ms. Carmichael,” Harold Black’s bored, monotone voice had said from the sea of unpleasant faces at the seemingly endless table. “Our patience grows thin from chasing dreams of alien technology. Either produce something that works or feel free to go back to working in that little shop we found you in.”

Vivian pursed her lips at the memory and continued to study the scene below her. She watched Kale Norris, grinning madly at everyone like a proud father. His look was welled earned. He had, after all, been the one to open the object that had baffled so many of the most intellectual scientists in all of England.

Knowing it was time to make her appearance as department head, she straightened her jacket and smoothed down her skirt as she pushed open the glass door embossed with her name. Vivian descended the stairs with an air of importance and was inwardly pleased to find the room immediately quiet. Kale’s satisfied look vanished and everyone turned their attention to her.

“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted pleasantly, pasting a diplomatic smile upon her face as she walked steadily towards the table that held the sphere. “What can you tell me about our newly awakened technology?”

The lab technician nearest her opened and closed his mouth a few times before stuttering out an answer, “W-we’re not sure w-what exactly it’s m-meant to be, Ms. Carmichael. A h-homing beacon is-is our best guess.”

Vivian made an uncommitted sound as she looked inside at the spinning bowl. At her request, a pointer was placed in her hand. A heavy silence surrounded her as she slowly reached in to touch the spinning bowl. None of the scientists had actually attempted to touch the inner object. The room continued to watch with bated breath… until the pointer was met with an invisible barrier. It bounced off and Vivian pursed her lips in annoyance as she tried again. The action gave the same result, and she gave an unladylike growl of disapproval.

“What is causing the force field?” she demanded, turning around to the mass of scientists who were now talking quietly amongst themselves. The question seemed to stun them into silence again.

“Anyone?” she queried, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “No one has an answer?”

Some gave small shakes of their heads and others looked uneasily around, hoping that at least one among them could answer.

Vivian’s face hardened as she addressed the silenced room. “Find out within the next twenty-four hours, or I’ll give your jobs to people who can.”

The statement caused the room to become a flurry of activity and Vivian sauntered back towards her office, a smug look placed firmly on her face.

–

The ground was slightly bouncy, Martha noted as she raced after the Doctor over the flat grassland. He’d managed, yet again, to get them into a whole mess of trouble. He just had – had – to eat the gorgeous yellow flower that smelled like bananas at the base of the Gfohordian embassy. Who knew the flowers were the planet’s most treasured natural resource? The Doctor certainly didn’t. And if the Doctor didn’t, Martha definitely had no idea.

So, here they were, running, once again, for their lives, trying to keep ahead of tall aliens with sharp teeth and spears. Bloody fantastic.

But neither of them would have it any other way. The grin on the Doctor’s face was enough for Martha to forgive him for having an odd fascination with putting things in his mouth.

She could see the TARDIS now, its blue hue stark against the planet’s light pink sky. Only a couple minutes more and they would both be safe inside the TARDIS. Safe from the rapidly approaching embassy guards. That is, if said rapidly approaching embassy guards didn’t overtake them first. And if the translator was working properly, she wasn’t particularly looking forward to being used as fertilizer for the same flowers the Doctor decided he wanted to eat.

Thankfully, they both burst through the doors a few feet in front of the long, shiny spears and fell against the TARDIS’ support beams, breathing heavily.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” the Doctor asked, a lopsided grin plastered on his face as his brown eyes glistened with mischief.

Martha remained silent for a beat as she listened to the pounding against the door from outside.

“Yeah, fun. It is all right if we leave now? Becoming an alien shish kabob wasn’t really on my list of to-dos today.”

The Doctor bounced up from his prone position against the column and threw his coat in the crook of another, skipping gleefully over to the console.

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Martha? If all we had were disaster-free days, where would the fun be in that?”

Martha rolled her eyes, walking slowly up and around the console, trailing her fingers across the smooth metal. She watched as he joyfully flicked switches, pressed buttons, and pulled levers. She had a sinking feeling his desire to find dangerous situations kept his mind off unhappy memories.

“Now… this can’t be right,” she heard the Doctor murmur, causing her to abandon her internal thoughts to raise an eyebrow at him.

“There’s a homing beacon coming from Earth.” The Doctor rolled the ball on the console, his eyes trained intensely on his vidscreen. “It’s one designed to resonate through all time and space. But only two races used that technology… Time Lords and–”

The Doctor stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he muttered in disbelief, pressing several buttons before smacking the screen with barely restrained force.

Alarmed, Martha jumped from her seat to scurry over to where the Doctor stood, peering around his shoulder to stare blankly at the screen.

“What is it?” she asked, vainly squinting at the screen, hoping that the TARDIS would translate the Doctor’s dead language for her.

“It’s a Dalek homing beacon,” the Doctor informed her gravely, turning to look at her as he ran his hand through his already mussed hair. “And it doesn’t just signal through time and space, oh no, it also goes across dimensions. Parallel dimensions. Someone on Earth activated it, and if there are Daleks in other universes… everyone is in for a whole mess of problems.”

The pair stood in silence for a few moments. Martha looked over at the Doctor, a mischievous smile growing across her lips, “So, what are we waiting for? Don’t tell me we’re just going to sit here while a bunch of overgrown pepper pots try to take over the universe again!”

That seemed to break him out of his shocked silence. The Doctor grinned widely at her, pushing off from the console to begin yanking levers and pressing buttons.

“Martha Jones, there’s your sense of adventure! Earth… twenty-first century… London, England. Off we go!”

–

A crack of static electricity broke Vivian’s concentration from her paperwork. Glancing down onto the main floor, her eyes widened at the sight of a large wormhole hanging just above the sphere. Swiftly, she walked out of the office and down the stairs to the lower level to investigate.

The air crackled from the static electricity, and the hair on her body stood on end as she walked closer to the vortex. She watched, mesmerized, as a figure slowly emerged from the swirling hole, its gleaming metal contrasting with the stark, muted tones of the laboratory. She was unable to tell if the form was living or simply another piece of technology. It slightly resembled a giant trashcan with numerous probes attached. Several more followed behind, coming to rest on the floor below the wormhole as it closed.

“Who is the leader?” a mechanical monotone voice questioned, the lifeless tone making Vivian’s skin crawl.

Shaking off her dire feelings, she stepped forward to confront the visitors. “Vivian Carmichael,” she responded, “Head of Alien Activity. And you are?”

The top swiveled around, Vivian assumed, to look at her. It was slightly unnerving to be stared at by a large ball stuck on a pole.

“We are the Daleks. We require your technology to defeat our enemy.”

Vivian paused, tightening her lips thoughtfully before inquiring, “And who is your enemy?”

The remaining Daleks turned in unison to look at her as they repeated together, “The Oncoming Storm is approaching and must be stopped, for He is the one who has come to destroy us.”

Vivian raised her eyebrows and looked over to the director of the Alien Species department, who immediately began tapping away at the computer. Vivian wanted all information concerning the Daleks and their enemy before making any drastic decisions. No need to have the board haggling her for making a wrong decision.

“We will help in any way we are able,” Vivian told them, a small smile gracing her face. “What is it that you require, exactly?”

Chapter Three