It's not the shortest chapter... and, hey! At least it's a quick update :)

Beta'd by Faith-o-saurus.

Chapter 11 - You Can Take That to the Bank

"Nice job this week, Rose," her manager told her, handing over her paycheck.

Rose smiled politely. "Thanks," she said, taking the slip.

"We'll see you on Monday," he said, actually bothering to maintain eye contact until he had finished the sentence.

"Have a good weekend," Rose offered, before leaving the office to collect her things.

Rose had purchased just one more pair of slacks for herself and a dress shirt and tie for the Doctor (he was extremely proficient at somehow sonic-ing his limited wardrobe clean, but Rose knew that he did enjoy changing up his style just a bit, now and then) before her wages had been totaled up. It left them with enough for groceries, and maybe, Rose thought, even a dinner out somewhere. Billy (she presumed) had stocked the Tiny TARDIS well and it wouldn't take much to replace the perishables, but if the costs of their mission allowed, Rose was hoping to treat the Doctor, even if it were just to chips.

Speaking of the Doctor, he had called earlier that morning, leaving a message to meet him before she either left the shop or cashed her check. It was a good thing he added that last part, because Rose was set to cash it at Henriks' own bank, as had been her custom when she used to work there.

Rose found the Doctor just inside the main entrance to the building. "Hey," she greeted.

The Doctor turned and beamed at her. "Hey, yourself," he greeted. When she moved to hug him, he instead cupped her face and kissed her.

Like really, really kissed her, right there in front of the doors, where folks had to maneuver around the two of them to get into the shop proper.

Rose dropped her purse and bag at her feet in order to wrap her arms around his middle, beneath his trench coat.

Some giggling and a, "See ya, Rosie," partially registered with her, but she figured Anne wouldn't be one to hold a grudge if she didn't bother replying.

Some throat clearing, however, and a tap on the Doctor's shoulder that even she felt, were enough to break the kiss at last. Otherwise ignoring the spoilsport shopper, the Doctor touched his forehead to Rose's. "Missed you. How was your day?" he asked.

Rose licked her lips. "Great, I think," she answered, breathlessly. "It's great, now, that's for sure." He smiled again, and she seriously considered pulling him back down to her, despite their inconvenient location. Instead she asked, "Yours?"

"Goin' alright, I guess," he answered with a shrug, but the grin never left his face. He gave her one more brief kiss before disentangling himself from her and retrieving her bag and purse from the floor.

Rose took the purse, but the Doctor held on to the shopping bag as he offered his arm to escort her from the shop. She thought to herself how completely different this was from the first time she'd met him here (when he'd stayed to blow up the building). Rose wrapped her arms around his left as they passed out onto the pavement. "What've you got planned?" she asked.

"Well, I just thought, being married and all, we might deposit your paycheck into a joint account." He nodded ahead of them, to where a Barclays branch stood across the street.

"Oo-kay," Rose allowed. "Any reason it's not a joint account at Henriks, then?" she inquired.

They stopped at the corner, and she could feel the Doctor almost bouncing on his feet before he turned to answer her. "Because I've already got one over there."

Rose's eyebrows climbed as they stepped out to cross the street. "You gettin' a job after all?" she asked, incredulous. "I thought you still had too much tinkerin' and plannin' to do to work outside of the flat."

"I certainly do, so I'm certainly not," he replied. "However, remember that fiver from '68?" Rose nodded. "Well, that was actually from the seventies, but," he held up a finger for emphasis, stopping outside of the bank's doors. "as it turns out, I did actually earn some 'thank you' cash from the government that year, which I didn't want at the time, and which they therefore put away, probably as encouragement for me to stay on the next time I came 'round."

He opened the door for her, and followed her into the bank. "So, we can't actually use whatever's in there, right?" she asked.

"Why's that?" He looked truly puzzled.

"Well," she explained, "you're gonna be comin' back next year and you'll be stuck again, and you'll need the money, won't you?"

"No, no, no," he shook his head as he led her over to check in with a clerk. "I was an unpaid scientific advisor for UNIT. At least," he stopped short, rubbing his chin, "I didn't take any money from them. I have no idea whether or not they kept funding my account."

Rose patronizingly patted his arm, but remained internally eager to get back to their carefree (regular-employment-free) life. If in the meantime she didn't need to go back to Henriks, that would certainly be a bonus.

After the Doctor explained to the clerk why they were there, they were led to a partitioned area with a couple of leather chairs in front of a desk.

Rose leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to the Doctor, "At least we're not here to get a mortgage."

He nodded, sitting back in his chair. "Thank you, Tiny TARDIS."

Just then, the banker came around the partition and offered his hand to each of them in turn. "Mr. and Mrs. Smith, welcome to Barclays," he greeted, "and congratulations!" he added as he moved around the desk to his own seat. "I understand we're making yours a joint account, on the occasion of your recent marriage?"

"That's right," the Doctor answered.

The banker nodded. "I have the account information from the clerk," he said, shuffling his papers, "I'll just need your identification, and we can set this right up for you."

"Uh, right," Rose said, looking to the Doctor to pull out the psychic paper.

To her surprise, he produced a couple of passports and laid them on the desk. "Will these do?" he asked.

The man nodded again as he looked through the passports. "Certainly, certainly. Spain? Was that the honeymoon?" he asked, looking back up at Rose and the Doctor. "I don't mean to pry -"

"No, yeah, it was," Rose answered, wondering just where in Spain the Doctor might have had in mind. Barcelona, perhaps? The city, not the planet? "A little warmer than back here," she added, remembering their first meeting with Dana.

The banker looked back down to his papers, filling in the information from the ID's, then passed a form back across the desk for them to sign. The Doctor and Rose each signed where indicated, then the banker took back the page with a smile. "Not too painful, I hope," he said, tucking the papers into a single file and standing.

"Not at all," the Doctor allowed, "but we would like to make a withdrawal along with a deposit."

The banker looked uncomfortable as he sat back down. "A withdrawal," he repeated, opening the folder.

"Anythin' wrong?" Rose asked.

"Well, I'm sorry to say," the banker answered, "all funds, down to the minimum balance, were withdrawn nearly a month ago." He glanced up at them, before returning his gaze to the papers. "Transferred to a William Shipton." He passed the record across the desk. "That is your signature, is it not, Mr. Smith?"

"Ah. Yes, it is," the Doctor answered, tugging on his ear. "I just meant, then -"

"He just meant," Rose cut in, "if there was any interest."

The banker shook his head, "I'm afraid that's calculated quarterly. However, we can certainly accept a deposit," he offered with a smile.

"We'll just do that, right, Dear?" she asked, looking to the Doctor while she laid her paycheck on the desk and signed it over.

"Of course, Dear," he answered with a painfully obviously forced smile as he slumped in his chair.

Rose didn't have it in her to tease him about the turn of events. He seemed at least ten times more disappointed than she was at the prospect of her heading back to work on Monday.

The Doctor was not pleased. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets as he strode out of the bank with Rose on one arm and her shopping bag around the other. After all he'd gone through, contacting the Brigadier, forging their passports, and even actually walking into a bank of all places, there was nothing. And he couldn't even blame another incarnation! It would be this him, even after being stuck in their current situation, that would make the transfer...

"I've got plenty for this week's groceries," Rose offered as they waited for the bus. "And," she added enthusiastically, "You can connect some more dots on the corkboard. We know how Billy renovates the Tiny TARDIS, now."

She bumped his arm with her shoulder, and he made an effort to shake himself out of his slump. "Yes, exactly," he acknowledged. "But until he gets here and gets a look at what's left in his account, that still leaves you working at Henriks," he added with a frown.

"It's not so bad," she said, lightly. "Lunch at the café, an employee discount on whatever fashions aren't too horrendous; I can survive."

The Doctor would have been happy to continue to grouse, but Rose was grinning at him, moving to intercept his line of sight whenever he shuffled. "Alright, I'm sorry," he told her with half a grin of his own. "I wish there had been more for you now, but we'll just stick to the plan." Rose nodded, apparently satisfied, and laid her head against the arm she held. "The control disk is finally finished, and I should have the timey-wimey detector ready by tomorrow," he informed her, just so that she knew she wasn't the only one with a task.

"See?" Rose said, snuggling into his side as he extracted his arm to wrap it around her. "Right on schedule. I can do the shoppin' while you work tomorrow, an' the TARDIS'll be back in no time."

As far as he could tell, she was right, so long as the control disk operated as planned. The programs needed to survive translation through DVD encoding, which could affect the accuracy of the coordinates or even render them completely ineffective. They knew from Sally Sparrow that it would at least work to dematerialize the TARDIS, so that much was encouraging.

And as for the parts of his plan of which Rose was completely unaware, at least he had an acceptable venue lined up for his proposal, thanks to the Brigadier. If the TARDIS was delayed - he had programmed her to arrive at the Tiny TARDIS on Tuesday - at least the proposal wouldn't be.

The Doctor leaned over to press a kiss to Rose's hair just as their bus pulled up. "Thanks," he told her.

She shifted out from under his arm to take his hand and lead him onto the bus. "No problem," she smiled. "Let's go home."

The Doctor managed a true smile at that. He'd never volunteer to live without the TARDIS. But stuck with Rose?

It really wasn't so bad.

To be continued...

I'm rapidly approaching the end of my unexpected free time, so please don't expect updates as frequently as you've been getting them. Still, I've got a whole lot of story in my head that I really, really want to share with you folks :)