for galaxys

[thatsortofman]

The TARDIS has come to rest in London again. Modern-day is a relative thing, all time is a relative thing, but it's the general period that he's come to think of as a baseline for most of his travel along Earth's timeline. It's the time of Martha and Donna and Torchwood. It would be the time of Rose, if any of the time in this reality belonged to her anymore.

As always, even the thought of the blond sends something of an ache that echoes through both his hearts, the bittersweet knowledge that she's safe and alive and living a life that he'll never get to even glimpse. Out of his reach, but at least alive. That has to be comfort enough.

He does his best to slip the memories. It's a lovely day, the sort of spring day that are a rarity in London -- no rain, no chill. Just a warm, gentle sort of sun that casts the park he's sitting in in dappled light through leaf-laden trees. Nearby the TARDIS is parked in the shadow of a towering oak tree, countless pairs of human eyes glossing over the thing-that-shouldn't-be-there without looking twice.

The Doctor has commandeered a bench. Commandeered. That did make it sound official. Mostly he's just taking up more than his fair share of it. He's trying to look thoroughly casual -- as if a man in a suit and a coat, all on his own, belongs in a sunny park on a Saturday. His sonic is in one hand, occasionally flipping on in what looks like a fidget but is in fact his best attempt at subtlety. The TARDIS had picked up something strange in this area, in this time, and he is determined to find out what. It had barely registered on his instruments to begin with, defying measurement and isn't that a puzzle. He can't pass up that sort of mystery.

So he's looking. He doesn't know what he's expecting to find, but no matter what his imagination might have cooked up, it's nowhere near what's waiting for him.

Comments

[galaxys]

She's been in the parallel universe for a year or so now (trapped, although she's the only one who still thinks of it that way, her mum and dad and baby Tony perfectly settled and content.) Torchwood keeps her busy enough, a universe without the Doctor exceptionally more quiet than what she's used to. But Rose Tyler is used to bouncing through time and space, so she sets her mind to finding a way to travel through time again.

Of course, it's only to find him.

The device is glitchy and dangerous, and she still has superiors at Torchwood who disapprove. Rose works often in secret, afterhours, swiping a security code to get in unnoticed, and it's one of those evenings she's tinkering away when something strange happens. There's a quick moment where the room is filled with static electricity, her hair standing on end, goosebumps at the back of her neck, everything slowing and then screeching to a halt, and then--

She's in the park, in London, the sun shining on her face, the quiet thrum of people talking and living and being all around her. The device isn't in her hands anymore, not on the table in front of her, but there, there, sprawled across a bench taking up too much room, all limbs and stripes and spikey hair is her Doctor, not five feet away.

"It's you." It sound stupid to her own ears, staring back at him like he's a mirage, an illusion, like she's going to wake from the most perfect dream any moment now.