Sunday Best
Wed, 01/02/2008 - 07:00 — Daiseechain
"It's a bathroom." Rose leans against the door frame, arms folded against her chest.
Mickey shrugs and flaps his arms. "Yeah, but it's an alien bathroom!"
"You've seen bathrooms before."
"Not on the Tardis, I haven't. Does it have, like, you know, alien bog-roll?"
Rose raises an eyebrow.
"Well, I don't know, do I?"
She unfolds her arms and starts to turn away. "I'm going back."
He grabs for her hand, catches her arm instead, holds it anyway. "No. Stay."
"Mickey..."
He casts round for something to ask her about. "Here - this lever. What's it for, then?"
"It flushes the loo. Just like at home." She shakes free of his grip. "You done? I'm going to see if he's OK."
"He told you he is."
"He's not. Mickey, he needs me right now."
"No, he doesn't." She just stares at him. He hadn't meant it to come out so bluntly. "I mean, he doesn't need you right now, not right this instant."
"What d'you mean? You saw his face when he came back in. Something's wrong."
"Rose, give the man some time. He just lost the woman..." He stops, but it's too late. Rose was never that stupid. It's why they're on this joyride, after all.
"The woman he loves? Is that what you were going to say?" Both her hands are back on her hips now, and he knows he's really in trouble. Catch him covering for the Doctor again. "What? You think I didn't see what was going on?"
"No, but I just..."
"You just what? You just what, Mickey? Thought I might need protecting?" Chin up and out. Always defiant.
"No, but I thought he might."
Rose pauses, mouth open, next salvo shot down before it could find its target. He presses the advantage. "I thought the Doctor might need some down time. On his own, like."
She shakes her head, trying to dislodge the impossible from her mind. "He's the Doctor."
"He's still a guy Rose, the man just got his heart broke, for crying out loud! You heard him invite her to come with us. I don't know what happened when he went to get her, but she's obviously not coming."
"Good! There's too many of us on board already."
Agitation. Fury. Exasperation. He doesn't know what to do first, so he stomps in a small circle, and flaps his hands. He knows it looks stupid, but it helps. "Can't you ever, just ever, just this once, right, think what someone else needs, first?"
"What do you think I'm doing? Baking bloody cupcakes?"
And he can see, right then, right there in her eyes, that she believes she really is thinking of the Doctor, of what he needs, and what's best for him. But he knows Rose better than that, better than anything else on this planet or any other. If they handed out PhDs in Rose, he'd have a First. He puts it to her as gently as he can. "No, Rose, you're not. You're thinking of yourself." She opens her mouth to speak, but he gets in first. "You're upset. You think he doesn't love you anymore. You're thinking you're going to go out there, and have it out with him. Only he's not ready yet. He won't talk, and he won't like you talking at him. Give him some time, yeah? He's a Time Lord, he's got enough of it."
She looks away, a puff of breath escaping, drawn to a venting duct somewhere, lost in the enormity of the ship, just like they are. "Yeah, but I don't. Did you know he's over 900 years old?"
This is news, and it must show on his face.
"He's got time, I don't." Rose says. "I can't wait forever while he... he... dallies around."
"And I do?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"It's not OK for him to leave you hanging round waiting, but it's OK for you to do that to me? What's good for the goose, is... is... duck for the Sunday roast?"
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. "Good for the goose is good for the gander."
"'S what I meant. You got a bit of "Do as I say, not as I do" going on, you know that?" Mickey goes on doggedly, determined to make his point.
"No idea what you're talking about."
"You left me behind."
"Oh, not that again! I thought we got past this already?"
"We did. But you still don't know what it's like." He searches her face for any sign of understanding, a trace of empathy. "You've got no sympathy with him 'cause you've never been left behind."
"Course I have! He left me behind after that business with the Autons."
Now it's Mickey's turn to shake his head. "No, he didn't. He asked, and you said no. Then he came back and you changed your mind. You left me behind. You left your Mum behind. And I know what that feels like. First Gran, then you, and you can't always make it better by just talking about it. He's just been left behind. Let him have his console room to himself for a while."
She just purses her lips, turns, and walks out. He doesn't know how else to tell her, and in that instant of hesitation, she's gone. Off to pick a fight, he knows that already. He gives up and just lets her leave. He could tell her the rest, but he knows she won't hear it.
Rose has the Doctor, and she has Mickey, even if she doesn't realise it yet. He'll be there. He's good at waiting. She's so busy worrying that the Doctor's got tired of her, that she hasn't realised yet, someday she's going to get tired of the Doctor. She'll cast him off, like an expensive dress she's bored of. Because the Doctor's like that - he's fun for a while, but he's hard to look after, and he's... what's that saying? High maintenance. Yeah, that's it. The Doctor's high maintenance. And it's not a look Rose goes for. She can play dress up for a while, but she can't keep it up for long. When she's been out all night, all she wants to do is change back into jeans and a t-shirt, and put her feet up on the sofa.
And that's what Mickey is. Jeans and a t-shirt. Someone to put her feet up with. He's working week, the Doctor's Sunday best. You can't wear Sunday best every day, because you wear it out. So he'll wait, till she's tired of being glamorous and exciting.
He can hear raised voices from the direction of the console. He can't wander off on his own, the Doctor warned him about this ship, but he doesn't much feel like wading into the fray. So he follows the time-honoured tradition of men everywhere when there's a family argument in the house, and locks the door on the bathroom. Time to find out if that alien plumbing works any differently.
Mickey knows where he stands in the scheme of things. Does Rose?
Rating |
PG
|
Spoilers |
Up to, and including, Girl In The Fireplace (Season 2, New Series)
|
"It's a bathroom." Rose leans against the door frame, arms folded against her chest.
Mickey shrugs and flaps his arms. "Yeah, but it's an alien bathroom!"
"You've seen bathrooms before."
"Not on the Tardis, I haven't. Does it have, like, you know, alien bog-roll?"
Rose raises an eyebrow.
"Well, I don't know, do I?"
She unfolds her arms and starts to turn away. "I'm going back."
He grabs for her hand, catches her arm instead, holds it anyway. "No. Stay."
"Mickey..."
He casts round for something to ask her about. "Here - this lever. What's it for, then?"
"It flushes the loo. Just like at home." She shakes free of his grip. "You done? I'm going to see if he's OK."
"He told you he is."
"He's not. Mickey, he needs me right now."
"No, he doesn't." She just stares at him. He hadn't meant it to come out so bluntly. "I mean, he doesn't need you right now, not right this instant."
"What d'you mean? You saw his face when he came back in. Something's wrong."
"Rose, give the man some time. He just lost the woman..." He stops, but it's too late. Rose was never that stupid. It's why they're on this joyride, after all.
"The woman he loves? Is that what you were going to say?" Both her hands are back on her hips now, and he knows he's really in trouble. Catch him covering for the Doctor again. "What? You think I didn't see what was going on?"
"No, but I just..."
"You just what? You just what, Mickey? Thought I might need protecting?" Chin up and out. Always defiant.
"No, but I thought he might."
Rose pauses, mouth open, next salvo shot down before it could find its target. He presses the advantage. "I thought the Doctor might need some down time. On his own, like."
She shakes her head, trying to dislodge the impossible from her mind. "He's the Doctor."
"He's still a guy Rose, the man just got his heart broke, for crying out loud! You heard him invite her to come with us. I don't know what happened when he went to get her, but she's obviously not coming."
"Good! There's too many of us on board already."
Agitation. Fury. Exasperation. He doesn't know what to do first, so he stomps in a small circle, and flaps his hands. He knows it looks stupid, but it helps. "Can't you ever, just ever, just this once, right, think what someone else needs, first?"
"What do you think I'm doing? Baking bloody cupcakes?"
And he can see, right then, right there in her eyes, that she believes she really is thinking of the Doctor, of what he needs, and what's best for him. But he knows Rose better than that, better than anything else on this planet or any other. If they handed out PhDs in Rose, he'd have a First. He puts it to her as gently as he can. "No, Rose, you're not. You're thinking of yourself." She opens her mouth to speak, but he gets in first. "You're upset. You think he doesn't love you anymore. You're thinking you're going to go out there, and have it out with him. Only he's not ready yet. He won't talk, and he won't like you talking at him. Give him some time, yeah? He's a Time Lord, he's got enough of it."
She looks away, a puff of breath escaping, drawn to a venting duct somewhere, lost in the enormity of the ship, just like they are. "Yeah, but I don't. Did you know he's over 900 years old?"
This is news, and it must show on his face.
"He's got time, I don't." Rose says. "I can't wait forever while he... he... dallies around."
"And I do?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"It's not OK for him to leave you hanging round waiting, but it's OK for you to do that to me? What's good for the goose, is... is... duck for the Sunday roast?"
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. "Good for the goose is good for the gander."
"'S what I meant. You got a bit of "Do as I say, not as I do" going on, you know that?" Mickey goes on doggedly, determined to make his point.
"No idea what you're talking about."
"You left me behind."
"Oh, not that again! I thought we got past this already?"
"We did. But you still don't know what it's like." He searches her face for any sign of understanding, a trace of empathy. "You've got no sympathy with him 'cause you've never been left behind."
"Course I have! He left me behind after that business with the Autons."
Now it's Mickey's turn to shake his head. "No, he didn't. He asked, and you said no. Then he came back and you changed your mind. You left me behind. You left your Mum behind. And I know what that feels like. First Gran, then you, and you can't always make it better by just talking about it. He's just been left behind. Let him have his console room to himself for a while."
She just purses her lips, turns, and walks out. He doesn't know how else to tell her, and in that instant of hesitation, she's gone. Off to pick a fight, he knows that already. He gives up and just lets her leave. He could tell her the rest, but he knows she won't hear it.
Rose has the Doctor, and she has Mickey, even if she doesn't realise it yet. He'll be there. He's good at waiting. She's so busy worrying that the Doctor's got tired of her, that she hasn't realised yet, someday she's going to get tired of the Doctor. She'll cast him off, like an expensive dress she's bored of. Because the Doctor's like that - he's fun for a while, but he's hard to look after, and he's... what's that saying? High maintenance. Yeah, that's it. The Doctor's high maintenance. And it's not a look Rose goes for. She can play dress up for a while, but she can't keep it up for long. When she's been out all night, all she wants to do is change back into jeans and a t-shirt, and put her feet up on the sofa.
And that's what Mickey is. Jeans and a t-shirt. Someone to put her feet up with. He's working week, the Doctor's Sunday best. You can't wear Sunday best every day, because you wear it out. So he'll wait, till she's tired of being glamorous and exciting.
He can hear raised voices from the direction of the console. He can't wander off on his own, the Doctor warned him about this ship, but he doesn't much feel like wading into the fray. So he follows the time-honoured tradition of men everywhere when there's a family argument in the house, and locks the door on the bathroom. Time to find out if that alien plumbing works any differently.
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