fannishliss

title: Finding the Doctor
author: fannishliss
fandom: Doctor Who
pairing: Rose Tyler/The Doctor
rating: G

summary: Rose finds the Doctor, just not the one she is looking for.

notes: This story features the Second Doctor for the Who@50 fanworkathon-athon. Thanks to develish1 for the prompt.   Just One more to go!

===

Rose Tyler landed on her feet in a grimy London alley.

She always recognized London straight away.  Sometimes, for reasons the scientists back at home couldn't fully explain, she ended up halfway across the galaxy on some distant planet. So far it had never been the vacuum of space -- the telemetry was at least able to give Rose confidence  she wouldn't materialize in some deadly extreme environment.

More often than not, it was simply London; sometimes  stinking, muddy, medieval London, sometimes towering, mindbending, futuristic London, but always, Rose knew it right off.

In that same, ineffable way, she knew when she was nearing her true target: the Doctor.

In the years she'd been on Pete's world, Rose had learned a lot.  She'd frightened  her mother with the intensity of her studies, amazed her professors and become their colleague.  She'd poured herself into Torchwood's transdimensional project, keeping her research strictly theoretical, until the terrifying mystery of the disappearing stars outweighed the known dangers of the cannon.  Rose knew the risks and had worked hard to address them, but she insisted on being the traveler. She knew who she was looking for. She would know him when she found him.

And she did find him, again and again.  Landing in a grimy London alley, sometime late in the 1800s judging by the coal smoke fog, Rose felt his presence nearby.  When she'd first realized that the cannon was taking her to him, seven times out of ten, she was amazed, but also scared. The rules of the universe were bending, just to reunite them, or so it seemed.  Rose's grasp of the transdimensional physics did indicate that intentionality would affect outcome, as quantum effects accumulated exponentially to render the jump.   Still, every time she landed and sensed him somewhere close -- something she'd been able to do for a long time, but hadn't consciously noticed -- she felt a little more unsettled.

She couldn't afford her qualms.  She had to find him to save the universe, and there was no time to lose.

She made her way cautiously along the alley.  She wasn't dressed appropriately for Victorian London, but in her backpack she had a few supplies.

She found an unlocked door and carefully opened it to find the back storage room of a pub.  She stowed her massive gun in a loose black canvas she carried for the purpose and hid her blue leather jacket as well, donning a shawl and long skirt she carried in her pack.  Quickly she wound her hair into a knot and fastened it with a few pins, then made her way round the outside of the building to the front of the pub.

She strode in like she belonged and paused for a moment near the doorway, listening to the accents and absorbing the mannerisms of her home city, getting her bearings a hundred years early.  She had a small wallet stocked with silver and gold coins, but normally, her jaunts from the cannon didn't last long enough for her to require sustenance.

The feeling of his proximity was overwhelming, and her eyes flew to find him, sitting at a small round table, a young man in a kilt to his right, a sweet-faced brunette to his left.    The three of them were intent in conversation.  Rose's heart welled up at the sight of their partnership and conviviality.  She well remembered traveling with the Doctor and Jack, the way the three of them would sit and scheme together in pubs just like this one, planning out their moves before some exploit.

Rose feasted her eyes.  It surprised her anew, every time, how easily she recognized him.  How did she know, for example, that he was not the kilted lad, but instead, the older gentleman in the bowl cut, sparkling blue eyes, his manner sharp and quick and more than a little nervous.  He was like a captive bird, piercing the gloomy room around him with a bright, discerning stare, his mobile face never falling still for more than a moment.

Then, as she'd come to expect, his gaze suddenly darted to hers, locking onto her face.  His deep blue eyes riveted her, assessing her.  Rose tried not to be hurt by his wary suspicion.   She'd heard the explanations numerous times:
"The bond cried out to me."   "I dream of your face but I've locked away your name."  "I'll treasure this meeting and hide it away till the time is right." No matter how many times she met him, no matter how many times he suddenly remembered her, every time he had to make himself forget, lest the knowledge warp their lives together out of true.

Rose made her way over to his table.  She tried to look calm and inconspicuous even though her clothes weren't quite right.  It was easier than she expected to go incognito with just a few pieces of cloth to fashion this way or that.  

The Doctor slowly stood.  He was not much taller than Rose herself, much smaller than the incarnations Rose had fallen in love with, but his big personality shone forth from his trim frame.  His blue eyes were enormous, and Rose couldn't look away.                                                                     

"My dear --," he gasped, at a loss for words.

The young Scotsman next to him rose easily, a friendly smile on his face, a respectful reserve in his eyes. "Are you a friend of the Doctor's then?" he said in a rich brogue. "I'm Jamie McCrimmon, and this is Zoe Heriot."

"Jamie McCrimmon," Rose echoed.  She remembered the name from their adventure with the lupine haemovariform.

Jamie shook her hand warmly and helped her sit.

"How do you do," Zoe offered, and Rose smiled at her.

"Very nice, very nice," the Doctor said, "wonderful, let's move along from the pleasantries, shall we, and establish just who you are." The Doctor's voice was a bit sharp and getting harder as he spoke.

"I'm Rose Tyler," Rose said.  No matter how many times she had to reintroduce herself to the Doctor, it never hurt any less.  "I need your help."

"You shall have it!" the Doctor immediately promised.

"That's very kind of you," Rose said.  "Thank you.  But I've found the wrong you.  I know you in the future."

"Oh, yes.  Yes, I see," the Doctor said, frowning.  "We do know one another - quite well, I'd say?"

Rose couldn't help but reach out to him, taking one of his hands in hers.

"Quite well," she answered simply, letting her feelings flow through their linked hands.

"Oh my!" the Doctor said, a bit ruffled.

Jamie tensed beside them.  He leaned a bit toward the Doctor, angling himself almost as if to protect him.

"It's all right, Jamie. Rose is a friend, a good friend."

Rose let his warm voice sink into her ears.  Time after time, she threw herself across the Void, looking for her Doctor, and she nearly always found him.  But it didn't get any easier, knowing he wouldn't remember her, until, at last, when the Time was right, she would find the proper Doctor who would help her save the universe.

Until that time, she would live these precious moments to the fullest.  She held onto the Doctor's hand.  His bones were different, his flesh had the looseness of age -- but underneath it all, he was always the Doctor.  That feeling of security, partnership, love, flowed into Rose as always from his cool, firm grasp.

"I don't suppose I could provide the help you need?" the Doctor offered.

"I don't think so.  Wouldn't you remember it, later, if you had?" Rose asked.

"I think I would.  I'm not quite sure.  There might be some small way I could help you."

Rose had never met an incarnation quite like this one.  He seemed so young -- impetuous as always, demanding, so sure he was right -- but eager to please.  She'd never seen that in the Doctor before.

"Just seeing you helps me so much," Rose said.  "I know I'll find the proper you soon."

"You look like you need a smile," he said, and produced a recorder from nowhere.  There, in the middle of a Victorian pub, the Doctor launched into a rollicking little melody. Jamie and Zoe sat back to listen with smiles on their faces, as though it was nothing unusual.  Rose felt a joy bursting inside her that almost felt like pain, it was so pure and sweet.

After he finished the song, he said gently, "It certainly wasn't my intent  to upset you, dearest Rose."

She realized that tears were streaming down her face, even though she was still smiling.

"No, no, not at all," Rose said.  "It's just, I've missed you so much, and you seem so happy."

"Happy?  Why, yes!  Good friends to travel with, wrongs to right, a Tardis for seeing the Universe -- why shouldn't I be happy?" He looked so innocent, Rose could hardly bear to think of all the wrongs he'd suffer in his long life.

"Would you mind walking me outside, Doctor?" she found herself asking. The cannon would soon be recharged, and she'd need to justify any delay to her team.

"Certainly," he said, understanding in his eyes.  "Jamie, Zoe, you'll find your way back to the Tardis on your own?"

"Of course, Doctor," Zoe said.

"Aye," Jamie agreed.  The two seemed to discreetly realize that Rose wanted a moment alone with the Doctor.

"It was wonderful to meet you," Rose told them.  It truly was wonderful to meet his friends, all of whom loved him so much.   He was never alone, not really, despite the yearning loneliness she'd always felt inside him.

The Doctor walked with her around the building to the doorway where she'd stowed her things.

"Rose Tyler," he said, just looking at her.

"Yes," she said, heart pounding despite herself.

"There's something quite powerful between us," he noted.

"Yes," she agreed.

"I believe, someday, I will love you," he said easily, reaching for her hands.  "Your touch stirs something deep inside me.  I've never felt anything like it."

Tears once more sprang into Rose's eyes.  "When you love me," Rose said, "please, just say it."

He frowned, but lifted her hands to his lips, and kissed them tenderly.  Rose shivered with longing, wishing she had more time, wishing she'd found her proper Doctor, wishing, wishing, wishing.

"Doctor," she said,  laying her hand on his cheek.  "Be this happy forever."

"I'll do my best," he promised, but the threat of sadness had darkened his smile.

Rose pulled away,  hoisted her gun onto her shoulder and pressed the button that carried her away.