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28 July 2010 @ 10:22 pm
What's Broken Can Always Be Fixed  
Title: What's Broken Can Always Be Fixed
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: G
Characters: Ten / Rose 
Dislcaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future.  Title taken from Jens Lekman's "Your Arms Around Me."
Spoilers: If you haven't seen New Earth by now, you're probably in the wrong fandom.
Summary:  ...all he can think about is she kissed him and now she's pretending she didn't.
Beta: The ever-wonderful salimali.  Thanks for doing that thing you do where you tell me my writing doesn't suck.
Author Notes: Written for Challenge 43 over at then_theres_us.






She kissed him.

They are walking down a crowded London street, dodging passersby, Rose nattering on at a mile a minute, and all he can think about is that she kissed him and now she’s pretending she didn’t.

“Wellies,” she exclaims as they pass a rack laden with the boots, all in bright colours and silly prints.

Okay, so she didn’t exactly kiss him. It was Cassandra. But it was Rose’s mouth and Rose’s taste and when he closes his eyes and remembers he pretends that it was her.

“Can I get some, Doctor, please?” Rose tips her head to the side and does that thing where her eyes get very round.

“Hmm?” he asks, still distracted. She remembered kissing him. She knew, in those first few seconds when she was back in her body and he was back in his, she looked at him and she remembered. She was far away in her mind and her eyes had warmed as the memory took hold. But then the universe had started moving again and they had things to do and it was like she forgot it ever happened.

“Doctor?” she asks, tugging insistently on his arm and pulling him out of his thoughts. “You’re not listening to me.” Her bottom lip bows down into a pout.

“I’m listening,” he says, trying to push the thought of her lovely little frown from his mind. “Maybe you could say it one more time, though.”

She sighs. “They have wellies. I lost my old ones in that swamp, remember? I’d like to get some new ones.”

She is obviously frustrated with him, but he can’t feel too contrite when she is frustrating him even more. Can’t she tell that he wants to discuss the kiss? Doesn’t she know that he is going mad wondering just how much she remembers, if she’d liked it, and if she wants to do it again?

“Go on,” he says, gesturing to the rack. “Pick out the ones you like.”

“Any other day you’d be choosing them for me, insisting I get the flashiest ones they have.” There is that pout again, and he’s had about enough.

“Get your wellies, Rose. Any ones you want, two pairs if you like. I’ll meet you back at the TARDIS.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he turns to stalk back to his ship. She’s probably doing the smart thing, ignoring the kiss, doing what she must to save their friendship. But he’s annoyed that she can just turn her feelings off like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done. Maybe she doesn’t even have feelings to turn off. It might not have meant anything at all to her.

He doesn’t get far before she catches up to him, her hand snagging his arm. “What’s wrong with you today?” Her irritation is evident in her voice, but she can tell that she’s trying to temper it while they are in public.

“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all, Rose.”

She lets out a huff and walks along beside him, boots forgotten. A couple of times she opens her mouth to say something, but she stays silent, apparently willing to wait for him to talk.

He wants to tell her, but he’s filled with so much fear. He’s not wrong often, but it’s beginning to seem possible that he’s read her wrong and she doesn’t want him.

After a few more steps without a word from either of them, she slips her hand into his, moving closer to him so that their arms are pressed up together. “You know,” she says carefully, “if you tell me what’s wrong, I could try and make it better.”

She could. She has no idea how much better she could make it. But she might not want to. “How about we go back and get your wellies?” he asks. “I’ll help you choose the perfect ones.”

“Doctor,” she warns. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

“It’s fine, Rose,” he says. “I’m fine.” He tries to make his voice sound reassuring.

“You can be so damn stubborn sometimes,” she says. She stops, halting them in the middle of the pavement. “I’m not moving until you talk.”

He takes her in, the way her feet are planted, the tilt of her hips, the line of her mouth, everything about her telling him that she can be even more obstinate than he can. And yet her eyes are full of concern for him; he decides to trust her.

“Why have you been pretending that we didn’t kiss?” he asks, looking down at the way her feet line up with the cracks in the pavement.

“Because we didn’t kiss,” she replies. “That was you and Cassandra. And I figured you’d rather forget it than talk about it. I know that you didn’t mean for it to happen.” Her voice is soft and he looks up to see her watching him warily.

One look in her eyes tells him that she’s been agonising as much as he has. He laughs, relief leaving his heart light and his head dizzy.

“What?” she asks, smiling like she doesn’t quite get the joke.

“We are a pair, Rose Tyler,” he says, tugging on her hand that he’s still holding, pulling her closer. “I have only one question for you, and then we’ll go get you those wellies.”

“Go on,” she says.

“Do you want to kiss me?” he asks in a rush. “Just you and me, no psychografts involved this time?”

She rocks back and forth on her heels, teasing him, toying with him before taking half a step forward, whispering a breathy “yes,” and joining their mouths in a sweet kiss. He lets himself get lost in her, one hand coming up to feel the subtle movements of her jaw, the other letting go of her hand to find the small of her back and pull her closer. Her hands hold him tightly, fingers bunching up his suit jacket in a way that will leave it impossibly wrinkled. He doesn’t care.

He pulls away and they share a grin. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are glowing, and he can’t get over the fact that it’s all because of him. “All right?” he asks.

“Never better,” she says, resting her head against his cheek and gulping in air.

He leads her back to the stall and buys her a pair of wellies in every colour.


 
 
Current Mood: pleasedpleased
 
 
emraldeyedauteremraldeyedauter on August 3rd, 2010 04:39 am (UTC)
Aww, a lovely fic about happenings outside of the episode. I'd hope he'd want to kiss her again anyway or at least discuss it. Very sweet.
wishiknewwhowishiknewwho on November 27th, 2011 08:37 am (UTC)
I just can't imagine that they did not discuss the kiss...unless they were too shy of course.

Thanks for reading!