Genre: humor/fluff one-shot
Word Count: 3,000
Characters: Rose, Ten
Pairings: Rose/Ten implied
Disclaimer:� Not mine.
Synopsis: The Doctor has something very special for Rose that only he can give her.
A certain Time Lord's voice beckoned from down the corridor just as Rose had finally managed to fall asleep after a horrific day of chasing the monster of the moment. It was typical of the man to go and ruin whatever rest she was trying to get.
His voice beckoned further as he whined from down the corridor. He could be such a little twerp at times; this topped the list of many items with certainty.As Rose heard footsteps approaching, she threw back the covers and grabbed her robe, sliding her feet into slippers. A trip to the console room was in order to quiet the man down before he either came into her room or decided to move the TARDIS through the Vortex to wake her up.
Rose made it into the console room just as he was about to touch the last button needed to force them into the Vortex. "Don't you dare touch that button!" she ordered him and he leaned back on his heels, grinning a wide toothy grin.
"Rose!" He smiled at her as she shot him back a look of foremost annoyance. "You'll never guess what I did."
"Find a planet populated with sleep aids?"
"You can be such a spoil sport at times."
"You should see me when I've actually been asleep for more than two minutes."
"Then you weren't doing anything important," the Doctor grinned again as Rose flopped down into the captain's chair, wrapping her robe tighter around her aching body.
"Apparently not." Rose said, annoyed at the Doctor's energy.
"Good," he said, grinning, as he held out a sheet of paper to Rose.She looked at it, daring him with her eyes to speak to her about it. She slumped further into the chair. The bright lights and busy atmosphere of the room did not help the hint of a headache that was starting to form at her temples. She hoped he'd make this quick so she could get some sleep, wake up fresh and new tomorrow, when-ever and where-ever that would be.
"A job application."
Rose sat up and shot him another glare. "I'm not going to have to be another lunch lady, am I?" she asked as she took the paper from him, not looking at it.
"No, nothing like that. More like, a personal assistant," he said, still grinning, and now bouncing from leg to leg, very pleased with his work.
"Good," she said as she settled back down into the captain's chair, looking over the title of the paper. Rose's eyebrow shot upwards as she read the title, "Application to be the Doctor's Companion?"
"You're making me apply to be bothered by you and scary monsters on a daily basis," Rose said, indignant, as she put the paper next to her. The Doctor looked smug and proud.
"I was busy while you were trying to sleep!"
"I see, remind me next time to drug your morning tea with sleeping pills."
The Doctor's shoulders slumped down at Rose's rejection. "Do I detect a hint of sarcasm there Miss Tyler? Because, if I were you, I'd take that seriously." Rose looked over the sheet of paper, atypical job application. If the Doctor had not handed it to her just now and more or less told her that it was his, she'd assume it was for any shop in present day London.
"You can't be serious," she pushed the paper to her side, lying down across the bench and closing her eyes. "What are you going to do, advertise in the Times?"
"I've considered it actually."
"Who'd take that seriously?" Rose asked, sitting back up.
"Well, you should take it seriously if you wish to be seriously considered for the job. The job of a companion is highly demanding after all. I can't have one who is trying to sleep all the time and turn the TARDIS into her personal pleasure cruise," and with that the Doctor gave a careful nudge to Rose's elbow as she grunted for him to give her space. "Oh, touchy today aren't we?"
"We had just fallen asleep."
"Well," the Doctor said as he pointed back at the paper in Rose's hands. "Here's a pen." He gave her the writing utensil and walked out of the room, grinning the entire time.
"This isn't how you treat guests in the TARDIS!" Rose yelled after him. "Doctor! Come back here!"
"Goodnight Rose. And do try to get a good night's sleep," he said as he yawned and slipped his jacket off his wiry frame, preparing to go to bed himself. "I know I'm exhausted!"
Rose took the cap off the pen and began to fill out the paper, still annoyed at the Doctor for waking her up, and now for the indignity of having to actually fill out a job application. For her job! Even though every part of her body wished he were joking, she knew that her jeopardy-friendly, sleep-deprived frame wouldn't be kicked out if something on the form was not to his Time Lordiness's liking.She looked over the form and the accompanying job description and realized that the Doctor had actually put some thought into this. Of course, how long had he been traveling with humans just like her? And how old was he getting? Maybe this really was just a way to streamline his selection of potential companions. Maybe this really was standard?
Which would of course meant that Rose would never get alone-time with the Doctor ever again.
Rose thought about going to bed, putting the paper aside as a joke, but she realized that there was every possibility that the Doctor was actually serious about this. He was over 900 years old, and how many Time Lords did she really know aside from him? For all she knew, this could be normal for a man of his age. So she looked over the form: name, age, place of birth, date of birth – all pretty standard, if not legally-questionable on any job application. She looked further down: height, number of required suitcases, scariness of mother– she'd have to do something about that one if he wanted her to ever consider using fabric softener on his laundry again. When she first met the Doctor, she had no doubts about how wonderful a life with him could be. Then, she discovered how unkempt he really was – wearing the same clothes for days at a time and putting his feet on the table, console, wherever he felt like putting them, licking things…
Rose continued to fill out the outrageous form, rolling her eyes when she came to the "Inter-galactic, Inter-dimensional, or Time Travel Experience Required" section. "You've got to be kidding me," she said aloud as she looked over the checklist of places and times his new potential companion was required to have visited at least once in her life (and the form did specifically say "she" and hinted at specific hair color and body requirements as well – which deserved some special attention given to him later, possibly involving reminding him of how scary her mother really was). She looked over the list and saw that no person other than her, his Rose, could have possibly visited all of these places, including Woman Wept at Sunset and the Powell Estates at Christmas 2006. The list of required historical acquaintances just served to boast her experiences to him. She felt somewhat honored, yet very annoyed and tired by this whole attempt at flattering her. It was a quick way to compare new potential companions to her, a very twisted and backhanded way.
It was highly annoying.
As Rose finished the application she had an idea. So, rather than heading off to bed to get some much needed sleep, she headed off to the library where there was a computer from her contemporary time period and printer. This was going to be a long night but so worth it in the morning. She found some coffee in the TARDIS kitchen, a large mug, and got to work.
His Time Lordiness would never make her fill out another application again.
A young woman's voice called from down the corridor to the Doctor's room, the sweet charm in it beckoning him to full alertness on this beautiful morning, or whatever time it had been while they were floating through the Vortex. He rolled over in bed and thought he could smell the faint aroma of coffee.
The woman's voice continued to caress him out of his slumber and he carefully pushed the covers away from him, sitting up on the edge of the bed and stretching, yawning. He felt so rested, so good, and hearing his Rose call for him from in the console room further fulfilled his desires for a good day.
He heard the woman yell for him and he began to question his better judgment about his perceptions of women's voices as he shot out of bed. Not that he would tell Rose how he perceived women's voices, as she could be as fierce as her mother on even the best of days. So, he threw on his dressing gown and slipped his feet into his slippers (a Time Lord's feet are very sensitive to the cold metal grating after all) and walked down what seemed to be the longest corridor he's walked down in his life. When he got to the console room, he was greeted with a surprise.
Rose stood next to the console wearing a very expensive black business suit, her hair up in a loose bun and heels on her feet. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she wore a commanding look on her face; the red of her nail polish glinted in the light of the console room. Her look in general was commanding as she had stayed up the entire night waiting for him to finally wake up. Since when did Time Lords sleep for fifteen hours at a time? He always got after her for needing even the shortest catnaps here and there, let alone actually sleeping all the way through the night.
"I have something for you Doctor." Rose said his name more as a title than anything else, and he knew he was in trouble. She picked up a black, monogrammed manila envelope from the console as the tone of the TARDIS changed; the lettering matched the golden clip holding her hair up. When he looked down at it in his hands he knew he was in definite trouble.
"Um, Rose, ah, um…"
"Yes Doctor?" Rose asked; her arms once again crossed as she was now enjoying every moment of watching his Time Lordiness squirm.
"Ah Rose, you, uh…" he continued to stutter, not quite sure of what to do next, his hand involuntarily rubbing the back of his neck in thought. He had expected her to look at the application last night for a few minutes and follow him to bed when she saw that only she fit his qualifications.
"There's a pen in the envelope," she said as she walked towards the corridor to her bedroom, unfastening the buttons on her suit jacket. She was so glad she found it in the wardrobe late last night.
"Rose, listen, can we just, uh…"
"Penmanship counts Doctor!"
"You have eight hours. Goodnight!"
The Doctor stood in the console room dumbfounded. Never had Rose called him on his little stunts and pranks, and now, he was a little worried. Did she actually stay up all night and work on this for him? Did she get any sleep? She looked awake and refreshed, surely she slept, right? Or was this something to do with the smell of the now much-needed coffee he had yet to discover the source of. He looked down at the envelope in his hands and frowned. She had it monogrammed with her initials even! He opened the envelope and pulled out the document within and was not surprised to see "Application for the Tea Boy of Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estates."
He cringed when he remembered that they had in fact been knighted by Queen Victoria and later exiled from the British Empire. He knew that would come back to haunt him one day, and not just with the founding of Torchwood. But tea boy? Surely she was kidding?
"Rose?" he whimpered but was met with no response as he began to page through the application. He skimmed a very formal and professional cover letter addressed to him. Turning to the first page of the application he saw name, age, place of birth, time of birth. So far they were all the same as the one he wrote for her. How hard could it be? He picked up the pen and started filling it out, looking forward to this opportunity to let Rose get to know him a little better.
Then he turned the page: height, weight, chest measurement… and he continued to scroll down a bit, his face turning red when he saw what other measurements Rose required (which of course, after he regained his composure, was met with a smirk of pride and a wise-ass remark on the paper). Looking further, he came to the "Familial Relations" section she had written, and his heart beatsquickened with anxiety when he saw that she asked intimate details about Jackie, including how many times, where, when, and why she had slapped him in the past. And if he deserved it. Which he supposed he should admit to in this case, or face having to do his own laundry for the rest of eternity. "Rose?" he whimpered again. "Really Rose…" he turned around and looked to see if the woman was anywhere near, or even lurking down the corridor, but he was alone. It seems she really did go to bed, leaving him to fend for himself against the twenty-page intimate and detailed application.
So he sat down and filled the entire document out, including the experiences, jobs, volunteer work, and even the psychological analysis section (he didn't include that in hers, so why did she put it in his?) and making sure to use the best penmanship he had, which wasn't easy. He took great care to make sure that every line was filled out, and each page was left in pristine condition. Jackie's maiden name? Color of the walls of her bedroom when she was three? How was he supposed to know all this? He supposed he could cheat a little and use the TARDIS to hop back here and there to fill in questions he was unsure of, but he knew that Rose would figure it out the moment she was shaken out of bed while in the Vortex. He could not afford to disturb her sleep again.
"Rose?" he called out again. He was now scared. Number and brand of hair dye used? UPC of preferred brand of leave-in conditioner, including the little numbers? How was he to know these things? It's not like they lived that much together. That's when he turned the page and saw it: References Required.
Where was he supposed to get references from? At this hour? It's not like he could pop into Cardiff and ask Jack to write him a letter, let alone to Jackie's and finding a small handful of Rose's closest friends who wouldn't also slap him and leave him cold on their doorsteps. Imagine how many times he'd wake Rose up in the process! She wouldn't like that. Panicking a bit, he set about searching through the TARDIS computer looking for anything that could aid his newest quest. When he realized it impossible, he sighed and said aloud, "Oh Rose, if only I could finish this for you."
"You don't have to," the Doctor heard Rose call from behind him, her hair now loose around her shoulders and the heels replaced with fuzzy slippers. "You didn't think I could stay mad at you that long?"
"I was beginning to wonder there," the Doctor said as he looked back down at the application.
"I found last night to be somewhat offensive Doctor, and well, I didn't think you'd understand if I just told you outright. It's just one of those quirks that makes you who you are," Rose said, leaning against the doorframe. She was still annoyed, but ready to make amends.
"Come here," the Doctor invited her over to sit next to him and she came over. As she sat down, he moved the application to his free side. "It really was quite inventive. Color of your shoes the day I met you? Jackie's original hair color?" he said as he took Rose in his arms.
"Well, some of the questions you gave me were rather rude, and a little too intimate."
"Hence why you asked about specific measurements. I wasn't going to actually replace you," he said.
"I realized that when I was on the last page."
"I can't replace you."
"Jackie would have a fit!" Rose nudged the Doctor in the ribcage a little at his response. "Okay, the truth: no one can do what you do."
"That's more like it," Rose said as she eyed him up and down from within his embrace. "So, Doctor, is there anything you feel you need to say for yourself?" she asked, knowing this would be the time he finally apologized for all those arrogant, Time Lord things he had done in the past that annoyed her beyond belief.
"Well, I suppose there is one thing," he said, a charming smile overtaking his face.
Rose smiled upon seeing this as she rested her head against his chest, knowing she'd hear that apology he owed her at any second.She was so relaxed and comfortable here, and now with his upcoming apology, she knew that things would be even better around here.
"You couldn't have at least saved me some of that coffee?"