Missing scene from the beginning of Father's Day.

Disclaimer: insert witty remark about not owning Doctor Who here

Yes, I stole the disclaimer from another story. Shows how clouded my mind currently is... bloody whatever-it-is-that-I-have-caught. -sulks-

SIAPNIAN: Posted this on Teaspoon and they liked it, so apparently it wasn't as rubbishy as I thought it was. Nine/Rose. Yes, I actually wrote a Nine/Rose fic. Yes, the world will end shortly. Originally it was supposed to be Ten/Rose, but who can defy the plunnies?


The Doctor sees her being chatted up by a vaguely humanoid alien whose skin carries a faint heliotrope hue, and deep inside he burns.

He's above such trivial emotions, of course. He's a Time Lord, and he's far too advanced to feel such human emotions as jealousy. He's just... concerned for her safety is all. No telling what Heliotrope might do to her.

She smiles slightly, glancing down coyly; the fire smouldering slowly within him flares into an unstoppable blaze and he's halfway to his Rose and Heliotrope before he's thought.

He stops.

Calm down, he tells himself. It's not as if they're together or anything...

Oh, but she's his. She's always been his. From the moment she ran into the TARDIS willingly, happy and smiling brilliantly enough to melt even his frozen, shattered hearts and cause them to beat again, she has been his. She might not have known it at the time, but it's still fact. Like how she doesn't know that the skies on Retyss V are mauve, but that doesn't mean they aren't.

So he walks up to hover beside her and a little bit behind, so that he can glare at Heliotrope with all the fury of the inferno which consumed his people without her seeing him. He feels a perverse sort of satisfaction as Heliotrope touches his elbow to his chin in a sign that his intimidation techniques still work very well indeed.

"I think this is mine, thanks," he says, and he takes her hand and walks away, across the crowded room and to the TARDIS.

She glances at him with one eyebrow slightly raised, but miraculously doesn't question him and just goes inside and sits down in the console room. She's in a quiet mood and he wonders with a sudden stab of fear if he's done anything...

Don't be stupid, he tells himself.

"So," he says. "Where d'you wanna go now?"

"Mm," she says thoughtfully, before she hesitantly starts to weave a tale about her father and how he died alone and...

Oh. She's asking if she could see him when he was still alive.

That's a bad idea, says a voice in the back of his head— seven of them, actually. The eighth is still crying quietly, but he doesn't doubt that he wouldn't like the idea either.

"Your wish is my command," he says, before he thinks it through, and for the first time in a while he is genuinely surprised and a little disturbed.

He knows she's his, but since when did he become hers?


Don't think that you really got the message last time... This is my LAST... erm... THINGIE until Aelita Madeline updates her Doctor Who fic. Now, if you love me, which I assume you do, go over that way and poke her for me 'cause nothing I've said is sufficient. Please. I beg of you. THE CLIFFIE IS DRIVING ME INSANE!! -whines-

-pause- Did she end on a cliffie?


Oh yeah, and please review.