untitled as of yet

Forever and a Day (2)

Sun, 11 Jun 2006 20:19:06 GMT

No spoilers; crossover; 10/Rose; incomplete

Part 1

The Doctor kept the sonic screwdriver pointed at the Time Agent. “Why do you need me?” he asked. Rose frowned at the Agent. He didn’t look very dangerous. He was of medium height, with bronzed skin and green eyes, and he was wearing a very strange hat.

“There’s a dangerous criminal holed up here, underneath the Opera House.”

She laughed at that. “You mean we’re underneath a theatre?”

“Yes,” Nadir said, “You’re beneath the Palais Garnier, and Erik lives-” he pointed across the lake- “over there. He’s been living here for a few decades.”

“You’re lucky!” he told them. “Erik is away. Otherwise you would both be in grave danger.”

Rose snorted, her uneasiness forgotten. “From a Victorian madman who lives in a cellar? Sounds like something from The Phantom of the Opera. Does he kidnap pretty girls and force them to sing?”

Nadir looked disturbed. “That screwdriver wouldn’t have been much against him. Come, this place is a death-trap. Let’s go up.” As he spoke he began walking, and led them down a passage that they had completely missed, which went up and away from the lake.

“Oh, by the way,” the Doctor said, “this is Rose Tyler.”

The Time Agent looked back over his shoulder. “I am most pleased to meet you, Miss Tyler,” he said, politely. Rose grinned at him.

“So who is this Erik, exactly?” the Doctor asked, as they hurried up winding stairs and damp hallways. Rose found, to her annoyance, that she couldn’t keep up with them in her heavy skirts. When she caught up with them, she had missed most of the background.

“… chandelier. It wounded several patrons, although luckily only one person was killed.”

They quite suddenly came out of the catacombs into a warm, spacious hall with luxurious red carpeting and gently glowing gas lamps. There was a row of doors along the curved wall opposite them, and the Time Agent led them to the eighth door. “It’s lucky I booked a box tonight!” he told them, holding the door open so that they could pass through.

Rose went in first. The box was divided into two parts by a velvet curtain, and she let Nadir go through first. She caught the Doctor’s hand as he went to follow the Time Agent, and pulled him aside. “What’s going on?” she hissed. “Can we trust this Nadir guy?”

The Doctor smiled. “Yes, Nadir is fine. Not all of Torchwood is out to get us, you know. As for Erik- he’s a mad genius who’s fallen in love with a singer named Christine Daae (that’s her out there singing, if I’m not mistaken and I’m usually not.). Mademoiselle Daae is engaged to a strapping young man—oh, come on, you know this! It’s The Phantom of the Opera! Masks! Big—big- pipe organs! Michael Crawford! What they don’t tell you is that Erik’s not from this century. He’s not even human. He’s a telepathic-empathetic parasite.”

Rose looked blank.

“He feeds off the emotions of other beings. He has illegal technology here, and- well, if you thought the A-bomb was bad, you should just see what humans have come up with in the 31st century. Imagine the First World War with advanced technology. It would change everything.”

Rose blinked. “Why hasn’t Nadir stopped him, or arrested him or something? Why did he need us?”

The Doctor bit his lip. “Nadir told me that Erik saved his life, once. He’s putting up with Erik’s behavior out of guilt. He believes in second chances.” His eyes darkened. “I think Erik lost his second chance a long time ago. He dropped a chandelier on the audience… I don’t know why Nadir hasn’t done anything. Perhaps he doesn’t believe that Erik did it. He has his own demons.”

Rose pushed aside the curtain and looked out at the sumptuous auditorium. Its crowning glory was a huge, glittering chandelier adorned with lyres. “That chandelier?” she asked.

The Doctor looked grim.

“Perhaps he’s frightened.” Rose said.

The Doctor suddenly grinned. “Hey-” he said conspiratorially- “the Phantom of the Opera! Your mum like Broadway?”

Rose giggled. “She hates it.”

He gave her a brief hug and they joined Nadir in his box.

The Time Agent tapped Rose on the shoulder. “Do you see that blonde girl down there?” Rose had seen. She had also seen the Doctor, who seemed enthralled by the girl’s singing. She tried not to be jealous.

“That’s Christine?” she said, watching the girl as she knelt onstage. Nadir nodded.

Rose sat down beside the Doctor. “Never been to the Opera before,” she said conversationally. He smiled, and covered her hand with his own. Rose relaxed and let herself enjoy the music.

Anges purs! anges radieux
Portez mon âme au sein des cieux

And then the lights went out. It was all very quiet, and for a moment Rose thought that it was part of the Opera. The Doctor’s hand tightened over her own, and then the lights went back up. Nadir had risen out of his seat, his face a mask of horror.

Christine had disappeared.

Sun, 11 Jun 2006 20:16:13 GMT

The Doctor kept the sonic screwdriver pointed at the Time Agent. “Why do you need me?” he asked. Rose frowned at the Agent. He didn’t look very dangerous. He was of medium height, with bronzed skin and green eyes, and he was wearing a very strange hat.

“There’s a dangerous criminal holed up here, underneath the Opera House.”

She laughed at that. “You mean we’re underneath a theatre?”

“Yes,” Nadir said, “You’re beneath the Palais Garnier, and Erik lives-” he pointed across the lake- “over there. He’s been living here for a few decades.”

“You’re lucky!” he told them. “Erik is away, spying on the managers. Otherwise you would both be in grave danger.”

Rose snorted, her uneasiness forgotten. “From a Victorian madman who lives in a cellar? Sounds like something from The Phantom of the Opera. Does he kidnap pretty girls and force them to sing?”

Nadir looked disturbed. “That screwdriver wouldn’t have been much against him. Come, this place is a death-trap. Let’s go up.” As he spoke he began walking, and led them down a passage that they had completely missed, which went up and away from the lake.

“Oh, by the way,” the Doctor said, “this is Rose Tyler.”

The Time Agent looked back over his shoulder. “I am most pleased to meet you, Miss Tyler,” he said, politely. Rose grinned at him.

“So who is this Erik, exactly?” the Doctor asked, as they hurried up winding stairs and damp hallways. Rose found, to her annoyance, that she couldn’t keep up with them in her heavy skirts. When she caught up with them, she had missed most of the background.

“… chandelier. It wounded several patrons, although luckily only one person was killed.”

They quite suddenly came out of the catacombs into a warm, spacious hall with luxurious red carpeting and gently glowing gas lamps. There was a row of doors along the curved wall opposite them, and the Time Agent led them to the eighth door. “It’s lucky I booked a box tonight!” he told them, holding the door open so that they could pass through.

Rose went in first. The box was divided into two parts by a velvet curtain, and she let Nadir go through first. She caught the Doctor’s hand as he went to follow the Time Agent, and pulled him aside. “What’s going on?” she hissed. “Can we trust this Nadir guy?”

The Doctor smiled. “Yes, Nadir is fine. Not all of Torchwood is out to get us, you know. As for Erik- he’s a mad genius who’s fallen in love with a singer named Christine Daae (that’s her out there singing, if I’m not mistaken and I’m usually not.). Mademoiselle Daae is engaged to a strapping young man—oh, come on, you know this! It’s The Phantom of the Opera! Masks! Big—big- pipe organs! Michael Crawford! What they don’t tell you is that Erik’s not from this century. He’s not even human. He’s a telepathic-empathetic parasite.”

Rose looked blank.

“He feeds off the emotions of other beings. He has illegal technology here, and- well, if you thought the A-bomb was bad, you should just see what humans have come up with in the 31st century. Imagine the First World War with advanced technology. It would change everything.”

Rose blinked. “Why hasn’t Nadir stopped him, or arrested him or something? Why did he need us?”

The Doctor bit his lip. “Nadir told me that Erik saved his life, once. He’s putting up with Erik’s behavior out of guilt. He believes in second chances.” His eyes darkened. “I think Erik lost his second chance a long time ago. He dropped a chandelier on the audience… I don’t know why Nadir hasn’t done anything. Perhaps he doesn’t believe that Erik did it. He has his own demons.”

Rose pushed aside the curtain and looked out at the sumptuous auditorium. Its crowning glory was a huge, glittering chandelier adorned with lyres. “That chandelier?” she asked.

The Doctor looked grim.

“Perhaps he’s frightened.” Rose said.

The Doctor suddenly grinned. “Hey-” he said conspiratorially- “the Phantom of the Opera! Your mum like Broadway?”

Rose giggled. “She hates it.”

He gave her a brief hug and they joined Nadir in his box.

The Time Agent tapped Rose on the shoulder. “Do you see that blonde girl down there?” Rose had seen. She had also seen the Doctor, who seemed enthralled by the girl’s singing. She tried not to be jealous.

“That’s Christine?” she said, watching the girl as she knelt onstage. Nadir nodded.

Rose sat down beside the Doctor. “Never been to the Opera before,” she said conversationally. He smiled, and covered her hand with his own. Rose relaxed and let herself enjoy the music.

Anges purs! anges radieux
Portez mon âme au sein des cieux

And then the lights went out. It was all very quiet, and for a moment Rose thought that it was part of the Opera. The Doctor’s hand tightened over her own, and then the lights went back up. Nadir had risen out of his seat, his face a mask of horror.

Christine had disappeared.

A Little Inspiration

Wed, 07 Jun 2006 12:31:15 GMT

Walt Whitman: Darest Thou Now, O Soul

1

Darest thou now, O Soul,
Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region,
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?

2

No map, there, nor guide,
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.

3

I know it not, O Soul;
Nor dost thou—all is a blank before us;
All waits, undream’d of, in that region—that inaccessible land.

4

Till, when the ties loosen,
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound us.

5

Then we burst forth—we float,
In Time and Space, O Soul—prepared for them;
Equal, equipt at last—(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil, O Soul.

Impossibilities - UNFINISHED

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 23:25:25 GMT

I meant for this to be a rather dark drabble, I'm not sure what it turned out to be. Not what I'd planned at all. Any advice as to how I could edit/continue it more sensibly would be greatly appreciated.

Spoilers: Impossible Planet; 10/Rose

Summary: What if Rose and the Doctor did have to settle?

He's been living on this planet, this pleasant green planet (not Earth: Earth was blue) for fifteen years now, sharing a tiny apartment with Rose. Rose has settled in nicely- Rose is not the only human on this planet. He is the only Gallifreyan.

He has just left the barbershop, hair damp and freezing in the wind, when he sees a sight that makes his hearts stop. It's only a fleeting glimpse, an impression, but it still sends adrenaline shooting from his toes to his fingertips. In the distance, through the milling crowd, he sees a long, flamboyant scarf. He catches a glimpse of a yellow sunhat.

The TARDIS must be here somewhere. It's so easy, so easy to dash after the two time-travelers, so easy to slip back into his freewheeling lifestyle. Of course, he'd have to stay out of his own way, and Rose would have to go home, although he wasn't sure he wanted Rose to go home, but he knew Rose's home wasn't his home, and besides, wasn't this home?

Circular logic will only make you dizzy, Doctor.

He stares longingly after the yellow sun hat, and then turns around. Home. Rose. Rose. Home. Rose. Home. Rome? How was that for circular logic? He doesn't need time travel; he's fine. Rose is fine, if a little greyer. Things were fine. And they would stay fine.

Optimism: Belief that everything will work out well. Irrational, bordering on insane.

When had the Doctor ever been sane?

The short, incoherent version:

Just out of the barbershop, hair damp and freezing in the wind, the Doctor feels both his hearts stop. Through the crowd, a yellow sunhat and a striped scarf. So easy to dash after the time-travelers and slip back into his freewheeling lifestyle. Rose could go home, although he isn't sure he wants Rose to go home, because Rose's home isn't his home, and besides, isn't this home?

Circular logic will only make you dizzy, Doctor.

He stares longingly after the yellow sun hat. Home. Rose. Rose. Home. Rose. Home. Rome? How was that for circular logic?

He goes home.

Reassurance

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 23:24:46 GMT

Possible spoilers for Idiot's Lantern; post-Idiot's Lantern; 10/Rose; smut

He abruptly takes her by the hand, and pulls her away from the crowd, away from the food and the trestle tables. Rose stumbles a little in her heels, but keeps up as the Doctor all but drags her down a side alley. At the moment, she's too confused and too tired to feel scared, and her bewilderment only increases when he stops at the bottom of the alley and presses her against the wall.

"Doctor-" she begins, but the question dies in her mouth when she sees his face. His eyes are dark, and deep, and more intense than she's ever seen them before. He stares at her fiercely and silently, and then, not relinquishing an iota of personal space, he presses his hands to her face.

For a moment Rose is incredibly aware of the rough bricks against her back, the slight ache of her heels, the stench of a nearby rubbish bin, and the Doctor's fingers on her skin. He runs his fingers over her face like a blind man, tracing around her forehead and over her eyebrows, touching her eyelids with infinite care, running his fingers up and down the bridge of her nose. His thumb brushes her bottom lip and she sighs, closing her eyes at the touch.

The Doctor says something that might have been her name, and then his lips are touching hers, not softly at all, and his tongue is pushing its way into her mouth. He's even closer now, pushing her against the wall, and she's never been more aware of how small she is and how big, and strong he is. She couldn't shift him if she wanted to- he is totally in control.

"Rose-" he says again, and his hands have wandered down over her body. He fumbles with her breasts and then his hands bunch in the front of her skirt. His breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused, but he stops and looks at her for a moment, silently asking.

Yes, she says, although she's not entirely sure this is how she wanted it, but he's so desperate now and so strong and so there that she finds it hard to say no. Before she can think that through he's kissing her again, and his hands have pushed the heavy layers of her skirt up and and out of the way. He unzips his trousers, and his erection presses hotly against her thigh. And then, before Rose can catch up, her undies have been pushed aside and her feet are off the ground and he is inside of her, warm and hard and good.

She whimpers, and clings to his shoulders as he bumps and pushes, murmuring her name over and over and over. The bricks push into her back and it's not exactly pleasurable, not exactly. She wriggles a little, trying to readjust herself, and he groans.

It's the only sound he's made, in all this time. A moment later he grunts, and the tension leaves his body like electricity leaving a wire. He puts her down carefully, considerately, and then sits down beside her, propping himself up against the wall. His hand caresses her ankle possesively.

Rose stands staring into space, trying to work out what has just happened.