#their bf audio changed something within me man.

[lirlovesfic]

5763

Doctor Who fanfic

Summary: Stuck in a hotel in Bergen on the parallel world, the metacrisis Doctor and Rose Tyler have some things to discuss before they can move forward.

Characters: Tentoo, Rose Tyler

Genres: Angst, romance

Pairings: Tentoo/Rose Tyler

Rating: Teen (rating may go up)

Warning: brief mention of the death of a minor canon character, and extremely minor spoilers for BF audio: Flight into Hull!

a/n: Still not entirely sure how long this is going to be, but I'm now guessing 4 - 5 chapters rather than 2 - 3. Also, I don't usually do warnings, but I'm going to give a warning here for the brief mention and minor description of the death of a minor canon character that some people might find upsetting. If you are worried about it, message me. Finally, one line in this chapter is based on something Billie Piper said at a convention. Kudos and virtual Jammie Dodgers to the first one to spot it!

Part One:  tumblr, AO3, TSP, ffnet

Part Two: AO3, TSP, ffnet

 Part Two

Rose Tyler, former time traveler, current Torchwood agent, and traverser of universes, sometimes called the Valiant Child, Defender of the Earth, and Bad Wolf, was hiding in the bathroom.

Oh, it hadn't started out that way. She hadn't lied about needing a shower. After the last group of stars had disappeared and they'd found the timelines focusing on Donna Noble, there'd been a final push by the joint Torchwood/UNIT taskforce to find the Doctor, realizing that if they didn't find him now, not only would they never find him, they probably wouldn't need to because their whole universe, and by extension each and every one of them, would no longer exist. Everyone, from the Joint Chiefs down to the catering staff, had been on double shifts and subject to recall 24/7. Even her mother had been volunteering as a dinner lady. She'd discovered a hidden talent for it too, not only recalling everyone's name but each and every food and beverage preference, from the way General Stewart took her coffee to the fact that Pete's assistant Todd liked barbecue-flavored crisps and didn't like mayo on his ham sandwiches.

Rose, for her part, had spent the last three weeks—at minimum, since with the dimension cannon, it was almost as difficult to track personal linear time as it was on the TARDIS—working nonstop, taking catnaps in her office and showering when she had the chance in the Torchwood gym's locker room. Emphasis on "when she had the chance". With the insanity of the last few days, she couldn't remember when she'd last had the chance. Maybe the day before yesterday? Maybe the day before that? Whenever it was, it had been a while.

For a moment, when she saw the luxuriously appointed bathroom and its generously sized tub, a pleasant surprise considering the age of the building, she considered a bath rather than a shower. A long soak in a tub would feel so good. But she didn't want to fall asleep, a very real possibility given past history and how exhausted she was. No, she decided, she couldn't risk it, not with the man she'd left in the other room.

She peeled off her damp clothes—leaving them in a heap on the floor—climbed into the tub, and turned on the shower. After turning up the heat on the water three times—showers at the gym always felt a little cold no matter how high she turned it, what with the draft caused by people walking in and out of the locker room all the time, so this was absolutely lovely—she switched the lever to change from the handheld to the rain showerhead. For several long moments she just stood there, allowing the water to chase away the chill caused by getting drenched at the beach. She sighed. It felt like the height of decadence to bathe somewhere where she didn't have random people—often total strangers—walk in on her. And not just the shower. If she had a fiver for every time someone from the scientific branch, man or woman, followed her into the Ladies with a tablet and tried to debrief her while she used the toilet…

But eventually, standing underneath the steaming water, after she'd scrubbed every inch of herself, shaved using the razor from the hotel's complimentary toiletry kit, and washed her hair twice, she realized she was hiding.

From him.

Oh, Lord, what had she done?

When she'd been woken up that morning—or possibly yesterday, was it after midnight yet?—by the science team with the urgent news that they believed they'd located the Doctor, she'd hoped that by now she'd be back in the TARDIS with her Time Lord, or at least back in her home universe. Of course, as with every trip with the dimension cannon, she'd been prepared for the possibility that she'd be accidentally stranded on a different parallel. She'd even been prepared for the possibility that her mission would fail and she'd be dead. But in all the possible scenarios she had envisioned, once the confirmation had come that they'd found him, returning to Pete's World, and permanently, hadn't even been on the radar.

Particularly with someone who both was and wasn't the Doctor.

God, what had she been thinking? The Doctor himself had warned her of gingerbread houses, of parallel people who weren't who they seemed to be. And he'd been right. Pete Tyler, her stepfather, wasn't the same person as Pete Tyler, her real father. As her father had been, this Pete Tyler was a good man, and over the years they had developed a father/daughter relationship, but it hadn't been easy. In marrying her mother, he hadn't been prepared to take on an adult daughter, especially one who was grieving and didn't want to be in his world and made that fact known every chance she got.

Oddly, it was the fact that she was grieving that was the catalyst for improving her relationship with the parallel Pete. After yet another emotional display that culminated with a shouting match between her and her mother, she'd stormed out only to realize she had nowhere to go, no friends to stay with, no Bucknall House roof to hide on. For a lack of anything better to do, she'd spent the afternoon aimlessly wandering the grounds of the Tyler Estate. She'd discovered they were enormous, consisting of formal gardens and vegetable patches, woods and lawn, ponds and fountains, rivaling the size, if not the scope, of Kew Gardens in her own world.

Finally, exhausted as much from her emotional outburst as from her walk, she'd sunk down on a bench overlooking the flower garden. To her surprise, within moments, Pete had joined her. He'd listened silently as she'd railed, yet again, against the unfairness of it all. When she was finally finished, in quiet tones he told her that he understood, that in addition to his first wife, he'd lost his entire extended family and most of his friends to the Cybermen, and that he'd give anything, his company, his riches, even his own life, to have the past few years undone.

Even the dog Rose had been killed, he told her with a rueful chuckle that was entirely without humor, a dog he'd thought he hated. It wasn't until he'd found her broken body in the wreckage of his home, crushed and kicked under a piece of furniture, that the enormity of the losses struck home and he'd finally allowed himself to weep.

As he described holding the tiny animal in his hands, his eyes had glistened with unshed tears, and her own prickled as well. And for the first time she saw him as an individual, a person separate and complete in himself, with hopes and dreams and pains and losses of his own, not just as a parallel of her father. Instinctively she'd reached out and took his hand. He'd blinked in surprise at the gesture. And then, with her father's lopsided grin, he'd suggested dryly that perhaps one of the reasons she was having trouble adjusting to the parallel world was that she was spending too much time with her mother. And she'd laughed, for the first time since she'd been trapped there.

Then, in his lowkey way, he'd asked if she'd be interested in helping out with a small project he was working on with Mickey and Jake.

Small was an understatement. He was trying to rebuild an old organization that had dealt with the odd, the inexplicable, the bizarre. Ghouls. Vampires. Werewolves.

Aliens.

He was rebuilding Torchwood.

It was this Pete Tyler she was thinking of when confronted with two Doctors on the beach at Dårlig Ulv-Stranden: Pete Tyler, the multi-billionaire founder of Vitex; Pete Tyler, the freedom fighter who led the fight against Lumic and the Cybermen; Pete Tyler, the head of the newly-revived Torchwood who held the rank of Captain (strictly honorary, he insisted) in UNIT. How different he was from her own father. Her father had never done any of those things. Perhaps he could have done if he had lived, but the hard truth was he hadn't and no one would ever know one way or another. There was every possibility that he wouldn't have. Because when you came right down to it—regardless whether it was due to nature or experiences—they were different people. Similar, but not the same.

Just as this one-hearted man who wore the Doctor's face was.

Similar—oh, so similar—but not the same.

She'd argued that herself, to the both of them, even as the Doctor insisted that this new Doctor was still him.

But then he'd said what he'd said and she'd kissed him and he'd kissed her back and…

And the TARDIS had left.

Without her.

Taking all her hopes and dreams with it.

At the memory of an empty square pressed deep into the sand where the TARDIS had stood only moments earlier, she sniffed and wiped at her face. If the Doctor didn't want her anymore, he should have just said. She was a big girl. She could have taken it.

As soon as she realized she was hiding, Rose snapped the water off and grabbed one of the fluffy white towels that hung on the warming rack. This wasn't who she was anymore. She wasn't a girl who cried in the shower over a disappointment, no matter how earth-shattering, and she wasn't a woman who hid in the bathroom, avoiding the consequences of her own actions. She'd stood up to presidents and prime ministers, military leaders and royalty. She'd faced off against werewolves, ghosts, zombies, and vampires. The list of aliens she'd dealt with was as long as her arm. She'd even absorbed the Time Vortex and destroyed the Dalek Emperor. She could face one human/Time Lord metacrisis of her former lover.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't agree.

Rose vigorously toweled off, rubbing hair and skin with a vengeance before rehanging the towel and wrapping herself in the smaller of the two hotel robes that hung on the back of the bathroom door. Then she glanced at herself in the mirror. And grimaced. Her hair was a mess. She really needed to do something about it before it dried that way.

She quickly sorted through the remaining toiletry items in the basket on the counter. Soap, more shampoo, lotion, a shower cap... Nope, no brush, and no comb. Oh, well. She hadn't really expected one to be there. She'd been lucky to find the razor.

Looking in the mirror again, she slowly and carefully combed out the knots in her hair with her fingers.

Still hiding, a tiny voice inside her head singsonged.

"Shut up," she said to her reflection, unable to deny the truth of the statement. Her reflection stared back accusingly, reminding her that he was out there waiting for her, and urging her to get a move on.

Giving up on her hair, she turned back to the door.

Well, she'd made her bed, she'd lie in it, Rose told herself firmly as she tightened the belt around her waist. She took a deep breath.

When she opened the door, she was met with a blast of cold air, and the Doctor half-hanging out the window.

"What on earth?" she exclaimed. She rushed to the window and hauled him, head and shoulders, back into the room. "What do you think you're doing? You'll catch your death!"

"Just needed a little air," he said, his teeth chattering.

"So you thought you'd hang out the window in the middle of a rainstorm?"

"Well…" The accompanying shrug turned into a violent shiver that shook his thin frame.

"You're freezing!" She huffed and shook her head. "We've got to get you out of these wet clothes." She started pulling the bottom of his T-shirt out of his trousers.

"Not exactly how I pictured you undressing me,” he told her.

She shot him a look. "Seriously? You been taking chat up lessons from Jack?"

"Why?" he asked curiously. And then added, "Is it working?"

The latter was said in such a hopeful tone that she had to bite the inside of her mouth not to laugh.

"No," she said firmly. She yanked upward, and he cooperated by bending over and holding out his arms. The shirt came off with a squelching sound, and she dropped it in a heap on the floor. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You are going in the shower," she said as she tugged him into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet and began to untie his shoes. Or tried to. His hands were shaking too much to be successful. She knelt down in front of him.

She sighed. No wonder he couldn't undo his laces. The knots on his Converse were a stuck, sodden mess. With a little effort, and hard-won experience undoing Tony's shoes, they eventually came loose. She pulled off his shoes. When she pulled off his socks, his toes wiggled, as if happy to be free from their confinement.

"Care to join me?" he asked as they stood again. "Looks big enough for two."

"I've already showered, thank you very much. Now, I've done your shirt and your shoes; you can do your own trousers."

"Oh, you're no fun," he said, still shivering.

"You HAVE been taking lessons from Jack."

He unfastened his trousers and dropped them to the floor. Along with his pants. She tried very hard not to stare. "Not exactly. Spent a year imprisoned with him; you pick up a few things."

"Now that's a story I want to here. But later." When he didn't move, she gently shoved his shoulder. "Get in."

"Yes, ma'am." He gave her a mock salute and climbed into the shower. As the water began to flow, he closed his eyes and stepped under the rain showerhead. He dropped his head forward as it poured over him, running in rivulets down a wide, toned chest and flat abs, down a tight arse and long, runner's legs. He groaned. "Oh, that feels so good." Pushing his hair away from his face, he opened one eye and looked at her.

Oh my god, she was staring. And he had caught her.

One eyebrow arched in an oh, so familiar expression. "Sure you don't want to join me?"

Yes, I do. The words came unbidden to the tip of her tongue, and she had to force herself not to say them. Gingerbread houses, she reminded herself silently.

"No, thanks," she said instead. She grabbed both their clothes off the floor and fled the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Rose leaned with her back against the bathroom door and closed her eyes. She suddenly felt very, very warm. She tugged on the collar of her robe, tempted to hang out the window herself. "Oh, boy."

#5763 #ficandchips #tentoo x rose #my fic

[ritchie02buckner-blog]

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[dine-on-nervine]

just a guy trying to get it right

Do you listen to music while you fill out surveys? Sometimes. This is not one of them.

In the past week, what song have you listened to the most often? While a couple songs have come up in the playlist more than once (due to having hit the end of the list and restarting) I haven’t listened to them the second time, I’ve pressed > within a few seconds.

What was the last thing you shared with someone else? Photos of typewriters.

While playing video games, do you prefer being first or second player? Doesn’t matter, unless the other person is so good I have to wait forever for my turn. :)

What is the most difficult word for you to pronounce? I sometimes struggle with Cheburashka.

What did you have to do for the last homework you were assigned? I don’t have an answer for this; school it’s been a really long time and other work to do at home I’m not really sure.

You’ve planned a roadtrip. Where are you going, and who’s coming too? We’re going to Yakima and beyond... I don’t have a copilot at the moment.

Do you have an overactive imagination? This would be why I am awake at this hour. Actually, my reason is valid but thinking/dreaming about the results woke me up.

What was the last important thing that you thought about? The above statement. I made a blunder, not knowing how something worked, and needed to contact someone about it because the Interbutts is forever.

Generally, do you call people, or wait for them to call you? With my cell phone I prefer to call them since half the time calls go to voicemail without ever ringing.

On average, how many texts do you send out each day? Between four and twelve.

Has anyone ever questioned your sanity? Mostly me. A bunch lately. Other people have had other mental fitness questions, some plausible and others simply offensive that they’d ask.

How many people do you depend on? I like to say zero other than myself but it’s never that simple. Two certainly come to mind, my boss for giving me hours and my landlady for allowing me to live here, but I have no one of greater importance than those basics.

How many people do you think depend on you? I can’t prove anyone is dependant upon me. I don’t have kids, I don’t have a partner, and my work manages to go on without my being there.

What is the worst color combination? I don’t really know since there are so many.

Have you ever injured yourself walking around in the dark? Absolutely. I have a couple toes I’ve broken repeatedly.

When you get a papercut, how do you react? If it hurts, I react. If I’m bleeding, I take care of it. And internally, I am miffed because papercuts take like a week before they heal sufficiently. Can you type without looking down at the keyboard? Yeah, happy to say that I don’t have to watch my hands anymore. :)

At what age did you develop an interest in the opposite [or same] sex? Man, I was so young... chased a girl when I was in 1st grade. (And she had older sibs/relatives who picked her up by the arms and ran with her. That was NOT in the rules!!)

Are you or members of your family religious? At one time I was probably the most religious. Then I changed spiritualities.

What’s so scary about clowns, anyway? They run for public office.

When was the last time you acted like someone you’re not? The last time I needed something that was denied to me for me being me.

When was the last time that you cleaned your room? I know this one! Uh, it was a few weeks ago because I couldn’t walk through my room without tripping over things.

How many hats do you own/wear? Own a lot of them. Wear none of them unless it gets cold out. On that note, yesterday was a beautiful don’t-need-a-coat day and it fucking snowed overnight. Talk about plot twist! And now it’s coming down HARD.

What was the last thing that you printed? A map or directions, something related to a roadtrip.

Did the last song you listened to hold any special meaning? The last one? “Action” by Sweet? Not particularly, other than it’s the rare song I’ve tweaked with audio tools to improve the sound successfully.

Are you experiencing problems within a current relationship? Yes, actually. I lack a current relationship, that’s the problem. Yesterday I was waiting for someone to come online and when she did she only said “after yesterday’s conversation we’re not a good match.” I can’t argue, because I think she was showing signs of being a bit off her rocker. I couldn’t understand what she was talking about the day before and she apparently couldn’t understand what I was giving back, but the bigger question I had was *why* she was talking about this totally internal thing in such great detail as though this mental pursuit is a lot bigger than it really is. I replied wishing her good luck in finding love, holding back the “you are going to need it” part.

When you’re upset, who do you turn to? Depending upon what’s upsetting me, I have four friends I can lean on. Does winter weather depress you? Autumn depresses me. Winter either invigorates me or is so quiet that I can find some respite.

Who was the last person that you called? Hmm, I think it was a friend I was trying to nail down plans with.

What product was being advertised on the last commercial you saw? Radio and television repair. (I was scanning a 1954 electronics magazine.) As for on TV or the web... Grammarly?

Do you ever wonder who sings the catchy commercial jingles? I am geared like that. Just yesterday I was thinking, who is the guy who does the voiceovers for Wendy’s ads? Joe Sirola -- who just died a month ago!

When you think about your last relationship, what song comes to mind? Melanie “Brand New Key” reminds me of her personally, but thinking about the relationship itself the song would be Henry Rollins “Liar”.

Are there any lyrics to describe your current crush/relationship? It’s a question of lust, it’s a question of trust, it’s a question of not letting what we’ve built up crumble to dust; it is all of these things and more that keep us together...

Who in your life makes you the most uncomfortable? Myself, mostly. Do you ever receive comments on your weight? Never negative. People seem to think it’s less than what it is.

Is there anything that you do just to make other people happy? Well, I am in customer service, so a lot. Also, when told to fuck off I do so with a smile most of the time.

When you need a temporary escape, what do you do? Quick, to the park! Bring headphones if it gets really bad!

What was the last lie that you believed in? “I want to see where things go.”

How long did your last feelings of heartbreak last? I’d say a week or two.

Is there any sport that you would want to learn to play? No.

What band would you most like to meet? Depeche Mode.

Do you ever have difficulty opening pill-bottle caps? Not usually.

Do you gain weight around the holidays? I have been known to lose weight over holidays. But let’s say yes, because I really do love Christmas snackies.

Are you related to anyone famous, or to any historical figure? Not that I know of.

If it was an option, would you take a trip into outerspace? Maybe as a break from the bullshit but space is large and takes a lot of time to get to places so maybe to the moon which isn’t really outer space.

What was the last thing that you wrote down [with a pen/pencil]? My hours.

Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? I can’t recall.

Are you uncomfortable with being photographed? No one wants to do that, unless they think they’ve caught me doing something wrong and then yes I am uncomfortable with them whipping out their cell phones for pictures.

What’s the earliest you’ve woken up in the past week? 4am.

How many people have you talked to today? Today? Just you all.

What was the last reason behind why you went to the hospital? To have lunch with a girlfriend who worked there.

When journaling, are you honest when documenting your feelings? Yes.

If you have a journal, do you ever worry others might find it? They would have a hard time deciphering it. :)

When you go camping, do you sleep in a tent or an RV? I don’t go camping. The last time I was supposed to, it was in a tent but since we didn’t have reservations at the park and pitching a tent where there wasn’t an outlet wasn’t an option to my companion we went to a motel room. The two things I learned were to make reservations at state parks ahead of time, and don’t get involved with anyone so fat they require a CPAP.

What’s one ridiculous thing that you do? Tinder. I do a lot of other ridiculous things also but that’s probably the most.

Do you feel that you must wear make up to be attractive? Straight male here. Makeup has the opposite effect.

What was the last thing [other than the keyboard] that you touched? My ziplock bag of Dark Chocolate Mint Almond Roca. Breakfast!

Ever done anything dangerous while driving with someone else in the car? Absolutely.

Name someone you wish you could be closer with? A nice lady. One who isn’t fucking other people. That’d be a change.

Have you ever played the license plate game on long car-trips? Nope.

Are you a secretive person, or are you open with your thoughts? I have things that are wide open and I have things that are private. I have learned from others how to be more clear about when things don’t suit me.

What is the worst question that someone could ask you? Nah, I’d really rather not expose myself like that.

Do you talk to your pets? My cats talked back so yes.

Do you have a least favorite day of the year? It tends toward my birthday. I am sure there are worse things.

What traits do you look for in a potential BF/GF? Fidelity. Sanity. And other myths.

Right now, what’s in your bookbag/backpack? Not sure right now since I don’t have anything in my messenger bag.

What’s unique about your city or town? It was founded by a guy who grew hops, hop growing was the local economy a century ago, and yet the town no longer grows hops.

If you could say something to the world, what would you say? If you look at a guy’s phone, you will find a record of conversations and pictures. If you look at a girl’s phone, you will find a whole other life going on.

#100 ?'s