Fic: Doing Domestic (Doctor Who)
Feb. 1st, 2006 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolYay! I did the Fic Thing.
Title: Doing Domestic
Author: Hathor (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hathy_col)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Summary: Rose wants to know about the Doctor's family. The Doctor really doesn't want her to know.
Notes: Thanks be toloneraven for editing the thing that's been lying around on my harddrive since July 2005. And for the title. Because I suck like that. If I've got any aspects of the old skool canon wrong, please tell me. I hope I haven't, for I am research girl.
It all began not long after they’d defeated the Slitheen. The Doctor didn’t do domestic and Rose wanted to know why. She assumed it was a reasonable request.
Instead, his eyes had grown a little bit cold. “Told you. I just don’t do families.”
Rose laughed. “Come off it. I’m sure you must have had a mum and a dad or something. Tell me about them.” She suddenly looked alarmed as the Doctor fiddled with something off the control panel. “You did have a mum and dad? You weren’t grown in a vat or something, were you? Only Mum and me saw this film on the telly once…”
To Rose’s relief, the Doctor laughed suddenly.
“I definitely wasn’t grown in a vat. I just never got on with my parents and I didn’t see them much once I was in the Academy.”
“The Academy?” Now Rose was shocked. “You got taught this stuff?”
“Nah, not the stuff I do. Mostly I got taught was rules I couldn’t break, which taught me how well I could break them if I tried.” He paused. “And it taught me how not to wear a stupid hat.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now – they’re all gone, anyway.”
“Oh.” Rose shuffled her feet a bit and felt well and truly stupid. But what do you say to someone who’s lost their entire world? “Sorry.”
“Not your fault. Pass me the sonic screwdriver, would you?”
Rose sensed the conversation was closed and passed him the sonic screwdriver.
--
The next time was after they had visited sixteenth-century England. Drinking warm cocoa and finishing off a meat pie (“Best not ask what type of meat,” the Doctor had said sagely) they had entered the TARDIS, a ribald song from a street-corner singer still echoing through Rose’s ears. Based on what the maiden in the song had been up to, the question just popped out.
“Did you ever want kids?” Through the final mouthful of pie, it came out as “Dija ‘fer wun ‘ids?”
The Doctor laughed before reaching forward and brushing some crumbs off her cheek. “Say that again in English.”
“Did you ever want kids?” As soon as she had said it, she knew she shouldn’t have.
The Doctor’s eyes went cold again. “You should take off that dress, it’s probably stifling you.”
Rose did as she was told, and missed the Doctor putting his face in his hands.
--
After dropping off Adam – about time, too – Rose felt safe to ask him again. She asked it calmly and in an adult way over a meal involving genuine eighteenth century pasta from Italy.
“Did you ever want kids?”
Rose had seen the way he was with them and knew that he’d be a natural father. She didn’t even consider the possibility that he’d ever had children, of course. After all, there would have been pictures and stuff around the TARDIS.
The Doctor took a measured sip of wine (“from the vineyards of the French part of Europa, classy stuff, this!”) before he answered. “No point in asking that, is there?” His voice was light. “Better things to worry about.”
Rose took a gulp of her wine to steady the nerves that the deliberate gap in conversation had given her. “We haven’t got better things to worry about right now. You know everything about me and mine – it’s just a question.”
“I’ve told you all you need to know about me and mine.” No pretence at lightness now.
“No, you haven’t,” protested Rose. “It would be nice to know a little bit more about you.”
“I haven’t told you every intimate detail so you don’t trust me? Is that it? If you feel unsafe, I can take you home.” His voice was icy now and Rose felt like crying in frustration.
“I didn’t say that, Doctor. I just want to know about your family and your history. I didn’t realise you would be so bloody stupid about the whole thing!”
Rose didn’t know at what point during her tirade she had stood up, but she noticed the Doctor leaping up. “Fine then!” He turned around and banged the table, spilling deep red wine across the table. Rose might have noticed this was she not so focussed on sudden waves of apprehension. “You want to know about my family? Why don’t we go and see them?”
“See them? See who? Go where?”
“Go and see the bit that’s left.”
“You have living family?”
Absolute silence. The Doctor left the dining room and headed towards the control room, Rose following in his wake. As soon as the Doctor reached the control panel, he began angrily thumping down levers and hitting at panels. Rose was almost sure that he didn’t even need to hit some of those buttons. She opened her mouth to say it and didn’t, instead settling for “Where… where are we going? In time and space, I mean,” she added hurriedly.
“New London,” he said shortly.
“New London?”
He looked at her this time, very briefly. “They rebuilt it after the Dalek invasion.”
“Dalek inva- what? On Earth?”
The Doctor, once again, didn’t answer her. The TARDIS whirled into life and the central column crunched up and down in the familiar, methodical pattern, looking grimly determined as he hung onto the control panel as the TARDIS landed. Rose was now feeling distinctly apprehensive, but equally determined to finish what she had started. She followed the Doctor as he stormed out of the TARDIS into what looked like bright sunlight.
She was right. The sight she was greeted with was presumably New London, but not the city centre. They were in a grassy, green area which would have been peaceful if it were not filled with gravestones. The graveyard – and what else would it be? – was enormous, but the Doctor seemed to know where he was going, because he picked a confident path between the stones on a path of loose gravel. Rose lagged slightly behind, taking time to scan the names on the headstones.
Edmund Jones, taken in the Great Invasion…
Rosalind May, found after the Great Invasion…
The Doctor was ignoring these headstones, though, and headed towards a newer part of the graveyard, stopping dead all of a sudden. Cautiously, Rose came to stand behind him, the bright sunlight feeling unreal on her bare arms. Rose stood next to him, in front of a plain grey stone. The Doctor read the inscription in the manner of a man who had read it many, many times before.
“David Campbell, beloved husband and father. Architect of the rebuilding of New London.” He fell silent, leaving Rose to read the dates of his life herself. It was a long life, all things considered, but…
“Doctor?” she asked cautiously. “This man was… he is… human, I mean.”
“This is my grandson-in-law, Rose. He married my grand-daughter, a very long time ago. There were children, but I’ve never met them. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“Oh.” Rose couldn’t find anything to say. “Is this…”
“Yes, this is all that I have left as a reminder of a family that died a long, long time ago but you have seen it and can we go now, Rose Tyler?”
His voice grew louder throughout the speech, causing the other mourners in the pretty graveyard to turn around and glare, looking scandalised. Rose left in silence and retreated to the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the meal. She never bought up the topic again, and neither did the Doctor.
--
And now there was a new Doctor, one who did do domestic and bought up the topic himself with Rose. He looked unusually serious, for a change.
“I was always a bit funny about the whole thing,” he explained, once again over dinner, but this time without the wine. Rose was strangely glad. “I could have visited her, I suppose. She was happy enough to see me that one time by accident – long story, too long for tonight,” he said by way of explanation as Rose opened her mouth to ask the obvious question. “I made the decision to stay away, I suppose. I’d changed a lot since the last time she’d seen me, and I had no idea what the Time War would have done to her, if she’d… changed....”
“Do you want to find out?” she asked, before she could help herself. The Doctor shook his head.
“No. I have… well, I have memories, you see? Just like the memories of home. Seeing it all again would make the memories less valid, or something philosophical like that. I think I’m happier like this. He wasn’t, mind you, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”
On impulse, Rose reached out and patted his arm. “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to say.
“Yeah. Me too.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before the Doctor leapt up. “Come on, I fancy a drink. How does the Mars Bar sound?”
“The Mars Bar?”
“Not just chocolate, you know,” he said happily, and walked out towards the control room.
Title: Doing Domestic
Author: Hathor (
hathy_col)Fandom: Doctor Who
Summary: Rose wants to know about the Doctor's family. The Doctor really doesn't want her to know.
Notes: Thanks be to
loneraven for editing the thing that's been lying around on my harddrive since July 2005. And for the title. Because I suck like that. If I've got any aspects of the old skool canon wrong, please tell me. I hope I haven't, for I am research girl.It all began not long after they’d defeated the Slitheen. The Doctor didn’t do domestic and Rose wanted to know why. She assumed it was a reasonable request.
Instead, his eyes had grown a little bit cold. “Told you. I just don’t do families.”
Rose laughed. “Come off it. I’m sure you must have had a mum and a dad or something. Tell me about them.” She suddenly looked alarmed as the Doctor fiddled with something off the control panel. “You did have a mum and dad? You weren’t grown in a vat or something, were you? Only Mum and me saw this film on the telly once…”
To Rose’s relief, the Doctor laughed suddenly.
“I definitely wasn’t grown in a vat. I just never got on with my parents and I didn’t see them much once I was in the Academy.”
“The Academy?” Now Rose was shocked. “You got taught this stuff?”
“Nah, not the stuff I do. Mostly I got taught was rules I couldn’t break, which taught me how well I could break them if I tried.” He paused. “And it taught me how not to wear a stupid hat.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now – they’re all gone, anyway.”
“Oh.” Rose shuffled her feet a bit and felt well and truly stupid. But what do you say to someone who’s lost their entire world? “Sorry.”
“Not your fault. Pass me the sonic screwdriver, would you?”
Rose sensed the conversation was closed and passed him the sonic screwdriver.
--
The next time was after they had visited sixteenth-century England. Drinking warm cocoa and finishing off a meat pie (“Best not ask what type of meat,” the Doctor had said sagely) they had entered the TARDIS, a ribald song from a street-corner singer still echoing through Rose’s ears. Based on what the maiden in the song had been up to, the question just popped out.
“Did you ever want kids?” Through the final mouthful of pie, it came out as “Dija ‘fer wun ‘ids?”
The Doctor laughed before reaching forward and brushing some crumbs off her cheek. “Say that again in English.”
“Did you ever want kids?” As soon as she had said it, she knew she shouldn’t have.
The Doctor’s eyes went cold again. “You should take off that dress, it’s probably stifling you.”
Rose did as she was told, and missed the Doctor putting his face in his hands.
--
After dropping off Adam – about time, too – Rose felt safe to ask him again. She asked it calmly and in an adult way over a meal involving genuine eighteenth century pasta from Italy.
“Did you ever want kids?”
Rose had seen the way he was with them and knew that he’d be a natural father. She didn’t even consider the possibility that he’d ever had children, of course. After all, there would have been pictures and stuff around the TARDIS.
The Doctor took a measured sip of wine (“from the vineyards of the French part of Europa, classy stuff, this!”) before he answered. “No point in asking that, is there?” His voice was light. “Better things to worry about.”
Rose took a gulp of her wine to steady the nerves that the deliberate gap in conversation had given her. “We haven’t got better things to worry about right now. You know everything about me and mine – it’s just a question.”
“I’ve told you all you need to know about me and mine.” No pretence at lightness now.
“No, you haven’t,” protested Rose. “It would be nice to know a little bit more about you.”
“I haven’t told you every intimate detail so you don’t trust me? Is that it? If you feel unsafe, I can take you home.” His voice was icy now and Rose felt like crying in frustration.
“I didn’t say that, Doctor. I just want to know about your family and your history. I didn’t realise you would be so bloody stupid about the whole thing!”
Rose didn’t know at what point during her tirade she had stood up, but she noticed the Doctor leaping up. “Fine then!” He turned around and banged the table, spilling deep red wine across the table. Rose might have noticed this was she not so focussed on sudden waves of apprehension. “You want to know about my family? Why don’t we go and see them?”
“See them? See who? Go where?”
“Go and see the bit that’s left.”
“You have living family?”
Absolute silence. The Doctor left the dining room and headed towards the control room, Rose following in his wake. As soon as the Doctor reached the control panel, he began angrily thumping down levers and hitting at panels. Rose was almost sure that he didn’t even need to hit some of those buttons. She opened her mouth to say it and didn’t, instead settling for “Where… where are we going? In time and space, I mean,” she added hurriedly.
“New London,” he said shortly.
“New London?”
He looked at her this time, very briefly. “They rebuilt it after the Dalek invasion.”
“Dalek inva- what? On Earth?”
The Doctor, once again, didn’t answer her. The TARDIS whirled into life and the central column crunched up and down in the familiar, methodical pattern, looking grimly determined as he hung onto the control panel as the TARDIS landed. Rose was now feeling distinctly apprehensive, but equally determined to finish what she had started. She followed the Doctor as he stormed out of the TARDIS into what looked like bright sunlight.
She was right. The sight she was greeted with was presumably New London, but not the city centre. They were in a grassy, green area which would have been peaceful if it were not filled with gravestones. The graveyard – and what else would it be? – was enormous, but the Doctor seemed to know where he was going, because he picked a confident path between the stones on a path of loose gravel. Rose lagged slightly behind, taking time to scan the names on the headstones.
Edmund Jones, taken in the Great Invasion…
Rosalind May, found after the Great Invasion…
The Doctor was ignoring these headstones, though, and headed towards a newer part of the graveyard, stopping dead all of a sudden. Cautiously, Rose came to stand behind him, the bright sunlight feeling unreal on her bare arms. Rose stood next to him, in front of a plain grey stone. The Doctor read the inscription in the manner of a man who had read it many, many times before.
“David Campbell, beloved husband and father. Architect of the rebuilding of New London.” He fell silent, leaving Rose to read the dates of his life herself. It was a long life, all things considered, but…
“Doctor?” she asked cautiously. “This man was… he is… human, I mean.”
“This is my grandson-in-law, Rose. He married my grand-daughter, a very long time ago. There were children, but I’ve never met them. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“Oh.” Rose couldn’t find anything to say. “Is this…”
“Yes, this is all that I have left as a reminder of a family that died a long, long time ago but you have seen it and can we go now, Rose Tyler?”
His voice grew louder throughout the speech, causing the other mourners in the pretty graveyard to turn around and glare, looking scandalised. Rose left in silence and retreated to the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the meal. She never bought up the topic again, and neither did the Doctor.
--
And now there was a new Doctor, one who did do domestic and bought up the topic himself with Rose. He looked unusually serious, for a change.
“I was always a bit funny about the whole thing,” he explained, once again over dinner, but this time without the wine. Rose was strangely glad. “I could have visited her, I suppose. She was happy enough to see me that one time by accident – long story, too long for tonight,” he said by way of explanation as Rose opened her mouth to ask the obvious question. “I made the decision to stay away, I suppose. I’d changed a lot since the last time she’d seen me, and I had no idea what the Time War would have done to her, if she’d… changed....”
“Do you want to find out?” she asked, before she could help herself. The Doctor shook his head.
“No. I have… well, I have memories, you see? Just like the memories of home. Seeing it all again would make the memories less valid, or something philosophical like that. I think I’m happier like this. He wasn’t, mind you, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”
On impulse, Rose reached out and patted his arm. “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to say.
“Yeah. Me too.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before the Doctor leapt up. “Come on, I fancy a drink. How does the Mars Bar sound?”
“The Mars Bar?”
“Not just chocolate, you know,” he said happily, and walked out towards the control room.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 02:18 pm (UTC)[I could go on and on and on about the two versions of Time Lord families in established "continuity", but I won't as that would spoil things.]
More, please!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 04:00 pm (UTC)(It's the Loom thing that worried me the most.)
More when, um, I can be bothered. I am so bad at writing at the moment.
Thank'ee for the comments!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 04:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-08 07:55 pm (UTC)