He's Fire And Ice And Rage

"I didn't know you painted."

The Doctor, who was not presently painting, looked up from the book he'd been reading. Yes, by all accounts Twilight was a worthless novel, but the war of the Team Jacobs versus the Team Edwards was a huge part of the mid 21st century Earth culture, and he figured it was really about time he gave a read to figure out what that nonsense was all about. The only thing the Doctor had worked out was that Earth women made no sense and Charlie really needed his own series.

"I…do?" he asked.

Rose stepped from the back room, producing a piece of canvas with a hillside and a castle painted to it. It was incomplete, and it took the Doctor a few moments to register that it was, in fact, something he had done during one of the many "time to find myself" periods of his sixth life. It was the same time in his life that he'd learned how to knit, draw, paint, do ceramics, and play the vuvuzula. It was also the period in his life where he suffered the most thwacks on the head with a vuvuzula wielded by Evelyn Smythe.

"Ah, yes," he said, slipping off his glasses. "Yeah, that's one of mine. How did you know? I'd have taken it for a Rembrant. Or a Van Gogh. Well, not really impressionistic enough for a Van Gogh, I suppose."

"You didn't clean the brushes, but they have your name on them," Rose explained. "Where is this?"

"Outside of France," he said. "Early 5th century. It was my favorite place to take tea, so I started painting there."

( Why haven't you finished? )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,294
for roseoflegend

He is not a sexual man.

It's not because sex is unpleasant for his species. On the contrary, he's had encounters with those of his own kind that've brought him to mind-blowing pleasure. Even with a human, or another alien species, sexual acts are (in general), incredibly pleasing. The rush of blood, the heightened nerves, it's all very nice.

It's also not because of the general taboo about sex in his culture. Yes, it's ingrained in the minds of all Time Tots that sex is a barbaric and disgusting act, and yes, he sat in on a number of those classes. And yes, he did wear the high-neck head garment of the Time Lord, the one that blocked from view the immensely taboo back of the neck, where a Gallifreyan derived a good deal of sexual pleasure. But, really, the disgust his people found in sex fueled his desires, in his youth. His need to be rebellious made him far more promiscuous than his fellows, occasionally taking a lover (or even two!) every decade or so.

It's not even because of how messy the act is. Fluids and sweat and all sorts of things going into it just make the whole thing seem really unappealing, but he's been through far worse, really. And, if one charted out sexual pleasure versus messiness, the pleasure is far greater than the cost of a shower and a change of clothes or bedcovers.

It's just that the act…doesn't really interest him.

There are far more fascinating things out there, far more worlds to explore, more thoughts to have. Aliens and stars and nebulas and oh-yes-the-world-is-ending-didn't-you-notice? He can't really focus on that sort of thing when he's got so much thinking to do.

( But humans! It's like a bloody disease with them! Cut for explicit sexual situations. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,234

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• So hold her
You may think you know her
I used to be her lover
Yeah, I'm the one who broke her

You'll be her one and only
Don't you ever leave her lonely… •

Rose Tyler is sixteen and in love with Jimmy Stone.

Jimmy Stone is a poser rock band wannabe moron and is lucky Rose Tyler even looks in his direction.

The Doctor shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be in this time, in this place. But he is, because time is idiotic like that. Time doesn't work the way the Doctor expects it to.

And so, he's in a bar, trying desperately to stay hidden as sixteen year old Rose Tyler is waving goodbye to Jimmy Stone at his job. When one lands in London in 2004, one should expect to hide from at least a few people. The Doctor peers over his shoulder from where he sits, watching his young companion walk away. He misses her. Misses the person she will be, when he watches her fade from view on that beach in Norway.

But he's not staring. He's just hiding. Well, it starts out as hiding, of course. Then, this lanky, nineteen-year-old fool walks in, ready to start his shift as a bartender. What the hell did Rose see in him? Well, what does Rose see in him?

He knows Jimmy Stone is the reason she never finished her A Levels. He knows she considers him one of her biggest mistakes, but she never told him (will never tell him) why.

So, the Doctor sits at the bar.

This is not his most clever moment, no. But he's curious.

He watches the boy pull a pint for him. Takes in the ugly leather jewelry and the chipping black nail polish. For a sixteen year old, maybe that look is cool. Maybe he's not as much of a loser as he looks.

He's no Time Lord, that's for sure.

Jimmy places the drink in front of the Doctor and turns away. What would the Doctor say to him?

But he doesn't have to think of what to say, because some bulky man walks in, obviously a friend, and starts up a conversation right on the topic the Doctor wanted to talk about.

"Break it off with her yet?" the newcomer says.

"Nah, nah, she'll figure it out," Jimmy says.

The Doctor barges in, taking a drink from his glass. "Breaking up with your girlfriend? Blonde out there? She seemed awfully pretty."

Jimmy doesn't even bat an eye to the Doctor's intrusion, probably used to that sort of thing while working at a bar. "Not my girlfriend. My girlfriend's in Surrey. And yah, breakin' up with her next week. When I get 'round to it."

"For the blonde?"

Jimmy and the other man laugh. "Nah, that's not worth the breakup. That's just Rose. Turns out she's leavin' school, comin' to stay with me, so she thinks. Sixteen years old, dumb as a hat, but she's good for a laugh."

The Doctor feels his hands clench around the glass. Rose is a lot of things, but dumb isn't one of them. "Really?" he says, his voice a forced calm.

"Yeah," Jimmy says, leaning casually by the Doctor. "You know the difference between a toilet seat and a sixteen year old girl from Powell Estate?"

The Doctor has a bad feeling that Jimmy's about to tell him.

Jimmy laughs. "A toilet seat doesn't follow you 'round once you've used it!"

The Doctor's not entirely certain what happened next. At some point the glass in his hand shattered, and Jimmy wound up on the floor with a bruise on his jaw in the shape of the Doctor's fist. Jimmy is stunned that a man so much older and thinner than he is could hit with that level of strength.

The Doctor doesn't hit people. It's not who he is. He doesn't get frustrated to that point. He gets disgusted, but not to the point of violence. But this bastard took Rose's future from her, used her, and then dared to insult her like this.

And the Doctor can't go tell her to stay away from him. She has to suffer through her mistakes and suffer through this piece of scum.

"You know what?" the Doctor said, picking a piece of glass from the palm of his hand. "She'll be the most important woman in the world one day. And you'll still be nothing. Funny, how time works out."

And as he leaves the bar, he passes by a pretty sixteen year old girl, running in to check on her boyfriend after hearing a commotion. She turns as she enters the door, glancing to his back for just a moment.

She doesn’t know him yet. She'll never know why he did this.

Funny, how time works out.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 741

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• I miss you, you hurt me
You left with a smile
Mistaken, your sadness
Was hiding inside
Now all that's left
Are the pieces to find
The mystery you kept
The soul behind a guise

Where are you
I need you
Don't leave me here on my own
Speak to me
Be near me
I can't survive unless I know you're with me. •

Rose thinks it will be hardest when she's standing there, saying goodbye, but it isn't.

Oh, it's hard. It's very hard. She begs him to stay, to come back. She needs him, and maybe she didn't realize it before, maybe that's why she pushed him away so often. But please. Please don't go.

Or maybe it's please go, with us, don’t stay.

But he says he has to.

And who is she to argue? It's not as if he has anything waiting for him back at home. Her mother'll be heartbroken, but she's gotten over far worse. Oh, it'll be hard telling her, and telling his stupid estranged mother, too, but this goodbye should be the hardest.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when the TARDIS takes off, but it isn't.

She hides in her bedroom and slams her eyes shut, trying to block out the hum of the walls and the whirring sensation when she knows they've finally taken off. Taken off and left him behind. Her oldest friend, first lover, favorite cook---why did he have to go? Doesn't he get it?

The Doctor, he gets it. He knows she can be sassy and mean and self-centered but he doesn't care. He doesn't need to be shown love and affection, so why does she have to for him? Can't he get it, too?

But it's too late, and the TARDIS is gone, leaving him behind. That should be it, she thinks. That should be the hardest moment.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when he tries to comfort her, but it isn't.

He's gone, and she didn't realize how important he was until he left. Maybe she didn't get it, didn't realize how much she loved him, or how much he loved her. But now, now that she has no way to say she'll go back to him later, now she wishes he was here, now.

"Maybe it isn't about you," the Doctor says, leaning against the door, watching her cry silently. He sighs. "My first mate, he ran off when we were young. Well, I ran off, but when I came back he was gone. It hurts, but it isn't about---"

"Take me home."

He hops off from where he's leaning, looking at her sadly. "Home?"

"Not forever," she corrects, immediately. "Just to tell my Mum. She needs to know."

He nods, and heads to the console room.

They never discuss it again. She thinks that should be the hardest it will be.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when she has to tell her mother, but it isn't.

Her mum doesn't cry, and that's hard. She just sits there, her brow creasing up in worry, but she doesn't sob, she doesn't even tear up.

"Is he going to be happy, you think?"

Rose can't answer, but the Doctor speaks up. "He will," he says, with all of the confidence of a man who knows time.

"And he'll be safe?" Rose's mum asks. Her voice cracks, just slightly, under the weight of how much she's had to lose, but she still doesn't cry.

The Doctor doesn't answer, because he doesn't know. It's worse, somehow.

And she thinks that will be the hardest, the hardest ever.

It isn't.

It's hardest when he grieves.

It only happens once. Two weeks after they've left, and they've packed up from the place that couldn't possibly have had the real Satan living inside of it, and they're all smiles and excitement.

"And let me tell you," he says. "Mickey the Idiot will be really impressed when I tell him that---"

And that's when he remembers. The smile on his face vanishes.

Mickey the Idiot is gone. He's gone, and they've told everyone who knew him that he's dead. For all they know, he could be.

Without a word, he turns and leaves the console room. He doesn't say where he's going, and she doesn't think to ask him. She just watches him go, wondering what it's like when a Time Lord misses someone.

She wonders what Mickey would think, knowing he's missed.

She doesn't cry this time, she just sits in the console room, lonely.

That's when it's the worst.

Muse: Rose Tyler
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count:
I DID NOT DO THE PAIRING YOU WANTED BUT I INCLUDED HIM AS A CHARACTER! <3<3

For one moment, they're together again (pity these things never last.)

The Doctor has always had a superior olfactory system.

Always.

It was one of those things that came with his genetic structure, he supposed. Keen, perfectly-honed senses of a Gallifreyan and the imagination of a human needed to piece out what smells blended with another to mean what.

It was very useful, at times. Discerning what oil was used in which explosive and thus which needs to be diffused first. Sorting out what poison was in which cream puff before obnoxiously popping the un-poisoned one in his mouth. Memorizing the sweet, fragrant smell of the Detrassi Sunflower and then reproducing it to break a password on the sensory-adept computers of Alganqua 7.

It was also a curse, as well. Like should the TARDIS decide to land on the dung planets of Santoir 4 or the onion-worshipping centers of Retrrioo. It was also absolutely terrible when he was forced to take the number 55 bus.

( The worst was how hard it made forgetting. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Partner(s): Rose Tyler (canon), Jack Harkness (canon), Martha Jones (canon), Donna Noble (canon)
Word Count: 1,292

The screen crackled with disuse as it powered on slowly. So slowly. Too slowly.

Crackle.

Crackle.

Static.

Then the face of a man appeared through the haze of static. He was lean, wiry, with scruffy brown hair and deep-set brown eyes. His brown suit was torn with globs of dried blood in places. He kept his head down as he spoke into the small microphone and tapped on the camera into which he was speaking. A blue mist streamed through the ventilation system on the wall behind him and out into the room.

"This is a distress call. We need immediate medical and possibly military help at base 24601 Theta Zed. Repeat. Immediate---" He coughed, thick and wet, and left a splatter of blood across the screen. With a panic, he wiped it away. Then, he took a deep breath and looked straight at the camera.

"This is a distress call. There is a hostile nanogene contagion on this base. Use extreme caution when approaching." He shook his head. "I haven't got much time before I'm infected. Well, probably already infected at this point. Too many injuries." The laugh the man gave was dark and humorless. "The point is, we need help. I need help. I can't stop this alone."

And, from the dark look in the man's eyes, it was apparent that he was alone, now.

"My name is the Doctor. I need immediate assistance at Sanctuary Base 24601 Theta Zed. I need the nanogene code---"

From off camera, there was the sound of a shuffled footstep, and then the distinctive click of a shotgun being set.

The Doctor looked away from the camera to something directly behind it.

He breathed. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

( And with that, the camera went dead with a blaze of static. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 6,210 YA RLY
Special thanks to galeforcehero for beta.

There's nothing of him left inside me. Nothing. You see, I killed them all. Just as I went back and wiped out the Time Lords, Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, the whole lot of them. I traveled back in time to prevent my past selves from making mistakes. I tried to show them how they were passing up the opportunity to attain real power. But each one of those fools preferred their own self-consciously noble, ultimately unsatisfying lifestyles. All of them argued with me, tried to thwart my plans. So I erased them, took them out of existence.

It is London. 24 March 2007. I am at once my current age, somewhere around 2,890, and at equal times my tenth self at around 1,207 (though I believe I was still vain enough in my youth to believe that I should lie about my age). Oh, how foolish and immature I was.

"I didn't think you'd show your face here," my younger self, the one who still calls himself the Doctor, says.

My reply is simple. "I didn't think you'd recognize me. Neural memories, of course. Ripping out through the cosmos. My cosmos."

"How did you get here?" Oh, how impudent I was. How forceful, full of self-importance and valor. Oh, valor. Pity I never realized that caution is the better part of that "noble" trait.

"I hold the fabric of every reality. Every core of every computational moment in the whole of creation from its beginning to its end. I lived through your life once, before I went back and prevented it." What a complicated few years it has been. Since defeating my sixth self, I've had such a time taking care of the universe, finding the weapons I worked so hard to hide in my naieve youth. And now, finding myself again.

"Prevented it?" the Doctor, the one in the brown suit, looks horrified. "How could you...why would you do that?"

( 'Because, Doctor. I can.' Cut for very mild spoilers to 4.14, 'The Planet of the Dead'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,980, not including text from Doctor Who Unbound: He Jests At Scars
Special thanks to salvagestime for the inspiration and beta!

I.
It's at the very, very beginning. There's barely any time between their introduction and the moment where they must part. He's got to run off, he's got to stop disaster before it starts and she…she has to distract.

How should she distract? Well, she's too human to be of any interest…unless.

( 'This means nothing, he warns, firmly. 'Honestly, nothing.' )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,132