And boom. Finished. Hope you all enjoyed it, and thankyou so much for sticking with me til the end. My tumblr is greatbigouterspacedunce if you are into that sort of thing. Thanks again.
The Doctor was slumped on a couple of boxes in the corner of the supply cupboard, tapping his foot and wondering idly how long it would be before he was let out of this tiny, stationery-filled prison. Maybe he had gotten back in here a bit too soon – it was probably going to be at least an hour before Saxon came back to let him out, a moment that he was looking forward to with the highest level of enthusiasm. Nope, no more chatting or dancing or hysterical laughter for the Doctor that day. He was on his own again.
Which was why he was more than a little bit surprised when where was a scraping sound at the door, before the handle turned and Rose stepped inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She looked as though she were just about managing to conceal a bit of nerves and a good amount of excitement behind a reasonably smug smile.
"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked, eyes wide with wonder and a sparkle of amusement.
"Used that screwdriver of yours." Rose waited just long enough for the Doctor to stutter with amazement before letting out a giggle. "Of course I didn't, you moron, how would you expect me to get it working when even you can't do it yet, and you're the one who knows what it does!" The Doctor raised an eyebrow and attempted to look disapproving.
"Alright then, Rose Tyler, now you've had your joke, how did you really get in?"
"There's a spare set of keys in the desk. For all that you're supposed to be a genius and Saxon is meant to be a teacher, neither of you are that bright."
The Doctor laughed out loud at that, swinging his legs off of the box he'd been resting them on and letting them dangle in front of him, the toes of his battered converse just barely skimming the floor. Now that neither of them was saying a word, Rose could sense just a hint of awkwardness under the Doctor's casual facade. It was there in the way his hands couldn't seem to keep still, the way his eyes kept darting to meet hers and then skittering away again. Personally, she found it adorable.
"So," he began slowly, "we've managed to establish how you came to be in here. The why, on the other hand, continues to be a mystery to me. Care to elaborate?"
Rose tucked her hair behind her ears in a gesture that was more to stop her hands from fidgeting that anything else. "What, so you're not going to guess? I bet you're rubbish at Cluedo, just wanting to know the answer all the time instead of working it out for yourself. Not exactly Hercule Poirot, are you?"
He spent a few seconds twirling an imaginary moustache before dropping his hand and letting the awkward silence settle around him like dust once more.
"Well, I wanted to see you," Rose admitted with a vague attempt at acting casually. "You know, not for any specific reason or anything, just making sure you hadn't died on the way back here or something."
The Doctor chuckled a little at this, then fell silent, looking at her as though he were seeing straight through her and into her head. It might be a cliché but it definitely felt that way to Rose. She looked around the room before her eyes settled back on him. The intensity of his gaze made her want to blush, and she desperately tried to fight the redness she could feel rising in her cheeks.
It wasn't until he shifted and stood up from his position on the boxes than Rose realised just how tall he was. She must have noticed before – she had been with him nearly all day – and yet now, standing so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek, he seemed taller than ever. He was looking down at her, head tilted a little to the side as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Evidently he found the answer he was looking for in her face, because after gazing at her for a few more seconds, he leaned down and kissed her, eyes flickering shut just a second before hers.
Rose had to admit that, though she had not kissed that many different people in her relatively short life, she had had her fair share of good kisses. This one, however, made her think that she had been judging all the others by the wrong scale. A kiss that would have made her head spin before would now seem like a peck on the cheek compared to what she and the Doctor were now doing. It was some sort of wonderful combination of lips and tongue, his hands round her waist and hers in his hair, a smell that she couldn't quite put her finger on and the warmth of his body pressed firmly against hers, just the right amount of each separate element mixed together to create something that had Rose thinking that her knees were going to buckle at any moment.
At last they separated, both gasping for air. Rose was worried that the Doctor might try to pull away, but he stayed where he was, body flush against hers and hands holding her waist. She left her arms around him, playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck as they both pulled much needed oxygen into their lungs.
"Well, that was good," Rose said finally, voice sounding a bit more breathless than she would've liked, especially since the Doctor seemed a bit too pleased with exactly how breathless she was. Still, he was breathing quite hard as well. It appeared that Rose's kissing skills had not disappointed. "I don't normally kiss people in cupboards," she told him.
"I don't normally kiss people at all," the Doctor replied thoughtfully. He looked up and saw her staring at him. "I don't mean I've never kissed anyone," he qualified, rolling his eyes, "I just mean that people generally consider me to be weird with a capital W. Most of my prior kisses have been under rather bizarre circumstances to tell you the truth. Anyway," he continued before Rose had the time to enquire exactly what circumstances he might be referring to, "you might not kiss people in cupboards a lot, but you've got to admit that it's a pretty good way to go about it."
Unable to think of a suitable reply that didn't involve revealing exactly how blown away she was by the Doctor and his kissing skills, Rose nodded. Nodding was good, nodding was slightly more indifferent than snogging his pants off, which was the only other option her brain could conceive of at that moment.
The Doctor stepped backwards, only just far enough so Rose's arms slipped from his shoulders. She felt the loss of contact only for a second, his hand resting in hers before she had time to register that he had moved."Anyway, it's gotta be nearly time to go now, you'd better get out before Saxon comes back – unless you want some more, that is." He waggled his eyebrows at her, face stretched into a cheeky grin.
Rose shook her head, lips curling into a smile. "You think you're so impressive."
The Doctor looked scandalised. "I am so impressive!"
"You wish," Rose replied sweetly, dropping his hand reluctantly before slipping quickly to the door and stepping outside, leaving a deflated yet amused Doctor behind her as she shut the door firmly and locked it.
The next hour or so was relatively calm, with a lot of clock watching as the hands slowly ticked round to four o'clock, when they would be allowed to go home. Martha was sat at one of the desks with a pencil and a piece of paper, frowning and pursing her lips. After some discussion, they had all agreed not to bother to write their essays, an act of rebellion or simply laziness depending on the point of view. Martha had volunteered to write a short letter to Saxon instead of an essay, in order to show him that they would not allow him to destroy their spirits. She had been working hard at it for a while, but now they only had a few minutes of detention left, she was finally ready to let the others see what she had written.
Martha passed the final essay to them, and Jack held it while three sets of eyes moved quickly back and forth, taking in the words that Martha had printed neatly on the paper:
"Dear Mr Saxon,
We accept the fact that you made us sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms. The most convenient definitions. But what we discovered is that we can be a brain, an athlete, a basket-case, a princess or a criminal. We could be all of the above. But we don't need to define ourselves for you, or for anyone else.
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours ..."
Rose grinned at Martha across the table. "I love it. Brilliant. I just hope we're gone by the time he reads it."
"The only problem is that I don't know how to sign it," Martha sighed. She tapped her pencil against the desk in thought. "I wanted something that sums us all up, you know?"
"What about 'The Breakfast Club'." Yet again, all heads turned to look at Donna, who was studying her nails. "What? We were in ridiculously early this morning; I know I didn't have time to eat anything. We met at breakfast, it only seems logical."
Rose looked to Jack, who nodded, then Martha, who was smiling. "I like it." They all watched as Martha carefully signed the essay, before placing it on the table where Saxon would see it. "Looks like we're done here."
They picked up their bags and filed out of the room. At the last second Rose turned back. "I don't trust Saxon to actually let him out," she told them, before grabbing the keys and running back over to the cupboard door.
The Doctor's head jerked up as the door was flung open, and Rose just about jumped inside. She grabbed his hand tightly in hers, and whispered "run!"
By the time Saxon arrived there was only the faint sound of rubber soled shoes slapping on the floor to indicate that anyone had even been in the library. He crossed to the empty desks and picked up the piece of paper. After reading what was written on it he scowled and crumpled the "essay" in his hand, hurling it angrily across the room. He had meant to crush their spirits, and it seemed that they had managed to find some sort of hidden strength and rebellious spirit from somewhere, probably inspired by John Smith.
Outside the building they said their goodbyes. Rose hugged Martha fiercely, making sure that each had the other's number and hoping that they would become as close as she hoped. Donna stood by a little awkwardly but Martha laughed and pulled her by the arm, the three girls group hugging on the steps before Martha gave quick hugs to the boys – Rose suspected she might've fancied the Doctor a little, from the way she way she looked at her feet when he let her go – and ran over to the car where her mum was waiting for her.
Donna beckoned the Doctor over and hugged him, before whispering something that Rose couldn't hear in his ear. She then walked over to Jack and raised an eyebrow, which caused Jack to turn and tell Rose and the Doctor that he was walking Donna home. They walked off down the road together, and Rose could hear Donna warning Jack that if he tried anything stupid then she was not opposed to kicking him very hard in the crotch.
"I'm waiting for the bus," Rose said quietly, nodding her head towards the bus stop sign next to her.
"Want me to wait with you?"
Rose considered. "No, it's OK, you can go home if you want." She pretended not to notice when the Doctor took a step closer to her, continuing to look for the bus that was blatantly not going to arrive for another 20 minutes. She waited until he was so close he was almost touching her before spinning around and facing him. He brought one hand up to her face and used it to cup her cheek, all the time looking at her with his mesmerising brown eyes. Those beautiful orbs made it impossible for Rose to look away or react before he kissed her. This time it was soft and tentative and gentle, and over way too soon for Rose's liking. The Doctor stepped away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I'll see you on Monday then, Rose Tyler." He gave her that grin, the sort that made her feel like her lungs were being run over by a bus, because she couldn't seem to take a breath, then he turned around and set off around the back of the school. Rose was smiling long after he had disappeared from sight.
The Doctor walked alone across the football fields behind the school, long coat wrapped closely around him, hands in his pockets. After checking that there was no-one around to see him, he let a smile slowly spread across his face, eyes crinkling and mouth stretching as far as it could go without something snapping. He wasn't sure exactly why – just that feeling that everything was good and nothing could ever go wrong that very occasionally makes an appearance in the brains and hearts of most humans at some point. And the Doctor's reason for feeling ridiculously and illogically happy was currently waiting at the bus stop in the drizzle, hoping that she wouldn't get fired from her job after missing her shift because she was in detention.
The Doctor raised an arm and punched the air in wild euphoria. Today had been a good day.