“Oh my God!”
Rose screams as a power surge blows several of the temporary, make-shift lights and a cacophony of sounds and jarring floors suddenly assault her senses.
The Doctor has run to the console monitor and she follows quickly behind. For once the T.A.R.D.I.S. is communicating in English.
ORGANIC STRUCTURE NOW FUNCTIONING AT REQUIRED NEUTRENAL PARAMETRES
“What?” The Doctor raises a bewildered eyebrow.
MAINFRAME RECHARGED AND BALANCED BY HUMAN/GALIFREYAN SEROTONIN LEVELS
“What?” The other brow joins its mate.
HOMEOSTASIS RECONFIGURED WITH ENERGY TO CARDOVASCULAR SYSTEM
“What?” His eyebrows rise impossibly higher and in unison.
WELCOME HOME MY DOCTOR
“What is it, Doctor?”
The Doctor is looking shell shocked but he hasn’t grabbed her hand and yelled ‘run’ yet so Rose is feeling quietly confident.
His hand navigates of its own accord from rubbing the back of his neck, to tugging on an ear, to ruffling his soft brown hair and back again and Rose can’t help but smile at the befuddled, Professor images that are conjured through her mind’s eye.
“She crashed.” He blew out an exasperated breath.
He’s typing wildly at the keyboard now and sporadically talking as if he’s merely thinking out loud and not in conversation.
“Yeah, still feel it thanks.” At this he does spare her a swift look and apologetic smile as Rose rubs as her various bumps.
“No, I mean she literally dropped like you did outside.”
“What?” Mentally Rose notes that there are far to many ‘what’s’ involved in this situation for her liking but then the Doctor’s spinning round and grabbing her upper arms and looking at her in such amazement and joy.
“She’s sentient! Ha!”
“No shit, Sherlock, thought we kind of covered that!”
“Oh cheeky! You better apologise she doesn’t care for profanity. Her she is, methophically laid up in intense care, and you didn’t even bring grapes or better yet, a banana!” he chastises.
“It’s you that’s bananas about bananas and she knows I didn’t mean any disrespect. She’s the only female company I have. The old girl’s a good friend, thank you very much!” Rose strokes caringly at a crumbling column.
“Oh and you are hers, Rose. That’s the whole point!”
And with a condescending pat on the back, that makes Rose stumble ungainly forward, he’s off flicking levers and doing laps of that magical circle at the heart of their home.
“Thanks. I think she likes me but I don’t understand.”
“We fought. You were leaving. My hearts…it broke her heart. She suffered a major anxiety attack brought on by very sentient depression. I thought I was getting too human and my bloody ship’s swooning.” The Doctor jumps back in a shower of sparks!
He skidded to a halt and lifted Rose right off her feet, spinning her around with his, much missed, exuberance and manic hysteria.
“She’s fine! ‘Cause we’re fine!” He drops her. “Well she’ll need a couple of days, a good clean and some old fashioned T.L.C. but…where to, Rose anywhere, anywhen in the universe.”
His grin would split diamonds and hers is a perfect match.
“What?” he immediately looks kicked.
“…which means pretty much anywhere you want to take me except Vascoss IV. I don’t care if it is a natural excretion for levelling their endocrine systems. I may love pink but not in gooey snot consistency or Harutex slash coda botox, by the way, as blue, bursting pustules? Really Doctor?” But she can’t suppress a laugh as their old argumentative banter returns and the Doctor walks, face first, into her every aside.
“It’s Bytox and fine but I’m not taking you but to Minuesse again, you were getting way to friendly with that waiter.”
“But the pretty! He was pink and fluffy, literally!” she pouts.
“Actually I’m not taking you anywhere where the native population’s hair rivals mine.”
“Oh you are so vain.” He pouts.
“And a little foxy?” The Doctor waggles those impressive brows.
“Nah, if you were foxy you’d have to be ginger!” She giggles.
“Rose Tyler, now that’s just rude…”
The strange pink and yellow her and her Doctor are back in the mysterious blue box and all is right with the world. And they all lived happily ever after, or did they?
To be continued in, “A Time to Live…”