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the-stove-is-on-fire · 6 months

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After School Ghost Theory 101 with Professor Fenton

Switch to light mode or Classic Blue to get the full transparency effect!

[Image ID: A four page comic that starts with Danny Fenton standing in front of a whiteboard holding up a white cat. "Question: Do ghosts purr?”

Tucker: “Danny when was the last time you slept?” Danny: “Irrelevant.”

Danny info-dumps: “The answer is yes, but also no. Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations. Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different. Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’”

Danny, wiping off the whiteboard: “Any questions before we move on?"

Danny’s audience consists of Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter in a classroom. Wes is seated at a desk at the front taking notes. Tucker is sitting on Sam’s lap playing on a Switch, Ellie is sitting on a desk behind them. Dash is asleep at the back of the room.

Ellie, now holding the cat: “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” Wes: "Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting." Danny: "What eyes?" Wes: “Please stop gaslighting me.”

A transparency trick on the last page reveals dark shadows and eyes all around Danny when viewed in dark mode. /.End ID]

An Extended Image ID is available under the read more because it’s over 1k. Side by side light and dark mode versions of the transparency trick is also available under the cut.

[Extended Image ID: The post contains a four page comic. The first page shows two comic panels with white borders. The top panel features a bedraggled looking Danny Fenton from the waist up holding a disgruntled fluffy white cat. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is messy, his arms are covered in bandaids and cat scratches, and his nails are painted black. He’s wearing a white shirt with red sleeves and a red oval on the front. In a large green text bubble he says “Question: Do ghosts purr?” A small orange text bubble under it asks “Danny when was the last time you slept?” “Irrelevant” Danny replies.

In the bottom panel Danny is standing on the far left side of the panel in front of a whiteboard in a classroom with the cat under his arm. He’s wearing baggy jeans with holes in the knees and his classic white and red Converse shoes. The whiteboard behind him has partially erased doodles around the edges including some flowers, stars, and Phantom’s DP symbol. There are a few balls of paper on the floor. Partially out of frame on the wall behind Danny is a poster of Einstein and above it a clock. Pointing at the whiteboard with a marker Danny says “The answer: Yes but also no” His words are written on the whiteboard. Under the words is a drawing of a stick figure and a green bedsheet ghost with a circle between them. The circle is surrounded by green squiggly lines radiating out from it. Under the circle, an arrow is drawn pointing to it with the words ‘core vibrations’ written on the board. A green text bubble in the space under the whiteboard says “Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations.”

On the second page there are two blocks of text, each followed by a drawing. The page background is a pale, greenish-grey with subtle scuff marks imitating the look of a whiteboard. The first block of text at the top of the page reads “Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different.” Under the text, imitating the look of dry erase marker, is a drawing of two simple ghosts smiling and waving to each other. They both have a small green circle drawn on their chest area with green squiggly lines radiating out from each ghost. Between the two cores, two parallel arrows are drawn, facing opposite directions. Under the arrows is the text “core to core communication.”

Under the ghosts is a second block of text reading “Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’” Under the text a red arrow points from the words ‘heebie jeebies’ to a simple drawing of Dash Baxter holding a flashlight and looking scared. There is a cobweb with a dangling spider drawn to his right and a bunch of green blob ghosts behind him to his left. In blue text the blobs say “you forgot to update your mailing address with the IRS” and “you filed your taxes incorrectly.”

The third page once again shows two comic panels. In the top panel Danny takes up the centre. He’s stretched across the whiteboard in a dynamic pose erasing the drawing of frightened Dash with a big swipe. One hand is braced on the board as he looks over his shoulder and asks “Anyone got questions before we move on?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are five, messily drawn eyes of varying sizes surrounding Danny. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent.

The bottom comic panel reveals Danny’s audience to be Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter. In the bottom left corner, Wes sits slouched at a desk at the front of the classroom with papers and an open notebook spread out over his desk. He’s wearing a red zip up hoodie with white sleeves. His hoodie is unzipped showing a green shirt underneath that matches the colour of his eyes. At the desk beside him Tucker and Sam share a chair with their focus on Tucker’s Switch and not Danny’s presentation. Tucker is sitting in Sam’s lap with her arms around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Tucker is wearing a red beanie with short dreads, goldenrod yellow turtleneck sweater, green cargo pants, and white shoes. Sam is wearing a black crop top with a fishnet layer over top, purple pleated plaid skirt, artistically ripped purple leggings, and black combat boots with bright green laces. Tucker has the tips of his dread dyed green and purple. Sam has streaks of purple, green, and orange in her hair. Ellie is sitting cross legged on top of a desk two rows behind Sam and Tucker. She’s wearing a cropped hoodie with the same colours as Danny’s shirt and black track pants with white and red shoes. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail and she is holding the squirming fluffy white cat up in the air. At the very back of the classroom behind Wes’ left shoulder Dash can be seen asleep slouched over his desk. Wes has one hand resting on his desk holding a mechanical pencil the other partially raised with his hand open. In a beige text bubble with red text he replies to Danny’s question with an unimpressed look on his face “Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting.” Under his text bubble a small blue text bubble from Ellie asks “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are three visible floating eyes off to the side of the panel. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent.

The final comic page is a single, full body shot of Danny standing in front of the blank whiteboard. He’s looking over his shoulder, slightly turned with his back mostly towards the classroom and the eraser in his hand. He has an incredulous look on his face. If the page is viewed in dark mode, the background looks dark and Danny is surrounded by dozens eyes of in all different sizes. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. In a green text bubble Danny asks “What eyes?” In the bottom left corner Wes replies “Please stop gaslighting me.” /.End ID]

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Wes Weston #DP #image id #Scopophobia #tw eyes #transparent #transparency trick #stove on fire #43393 #long post #extended image ID long enough to post on Ao3

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akiwisfics · 4 years

Text

In Bloom Chapter 3

Notes: Cross-posted from AO3. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes. Hey, if you’re a fan of KirarixSayaka, check our discord here .

Description: Mary accepts an invitation to watch from the president, and learns far more than she ever wanted.

Pairings: KirarixSayaka, MaryxRirika

Routine was its own madness.

The satisfaction that Kirari felt with it, surely, was misplaced. There was nothing in these turn of events to feel secured about, not with the mountain of actions and steps that awaited them by week's end. Predators would be waiting by the gates. She should be preparing for it-- preparing Sayaka to be the larger fish, be the shark she needed to be, that she knew she already was.

Instead, she was playing doting girlfriend and truthfully? Kirari couldn't be happier.

Her morning started out simple enough. She woke up in a cold sweat, eyes fluttering open with what few nightmares that she still recalled even as the sleep faded out to the waking world. Tightly clenched hands on sheets, chipped fingernail polish. That would be fixed later. Later, like every step.

Her suite was the best in the city in the best hotel that she could find and be offered. Room service every evening, fresh laundry, breakfast and dinner. Tea served just the way she wanted it first thing in the morning. The best stay money could buy in Tokyo, and yet, it still wasn't the most expensive way she'd avoided her sister before.

She hadn't bought the hotel yet.

By the time her feet touched the floor, there was one, firm knock. Breakfast-- displayed elegantly on an arrangement of porcelain and lace white table cloth. By her instruction, they never came in, so long as Kirari was there. She let the news play in the background as she arranged her breakfast and tea on the living room table, honey and sugar within arms reach to sweeten the pot. Notepad to her right as she watched-- ready to take notes on anything that needed to be addressed or arranged before the day was finished.

Eggs, bacon-- Western but comforting. Tea was an earl grey for her first, but now that Sayaka felt well enough to move around on her own, they would have green later.

It was better this way.

A shower came next, then the careful threading and braiding of silver tresses topped with black ribbon to complete the image that Kirari had for the last three years. Simple, predictable... routine.

From there, make up. The vanity outside the bathroom was perfect for it, circular and ornate. After so long, every layer was applied without though, automatic and graceful in one. Foundation, blender, mascara and eyeliner. Her fingers touched against flawless skin as she applied each brush stroke carefully, constructing her own mask of perfection for the rest of the day.

The finishing touches came next- the dashes of icy blue. Eye shadow applied with masterful strokes, not a brush out of place. Still, Kirari checked and triple checked. Lipstick was applied with just as much carefulness and she smiled at her reflection-- finding the detached air that welcomed her back satisfying.

Not like it was smeared before. Blue didn't suit Sayaka as well as she thought she would, not plastered haphazardly like it was she kept trying and trying to breathe life into her. Two hands interlocked with one another and pressing downward-- in, out, in, out.

"You're running out of time, President~"

She could not, would not--

Another firm knock at the door. "Checking in!"

She blinked and found her reflection once again staring back. "... One more hour!" she called out to room service and waited until she heard the careful wheeling of the metal cart, further down the hallway. Kirari breathed deeply, shuddering, unsteady.

And reached for the make up remover, wiping the slate clean.

"Two signatures on the first page, three on the last. Just follow the lines there."

Kirari hummed, warily looking the forms over in her hands. Sayaka tsked good naturedly and scooted closer, breath tickling her ear as she reached over her shoulder, taking the page by the corner. "We don't want to give them a reason to reject the proposal. Takamura-san won't care, but it has to get to his desk first. That's why they get their secretaries to read it first and deny it based on a missing signature or two."

"Humor the procedures, hm? How dreadfully analytical~."

"It's why you hired me isn't it?"

She smiled and tossed the papers to the floor, marveling at how aghast Sayaka looked at her callousness-- as if it'd been something far more precious and fragile. She pressed two fingers lightly against her secretary's collarbone, smile widening at the flush that came to her skin, starting from that point and extending outward. She took the directive with little pushback, only sparing a moment to scoot closer to the edge.

"I'm fine," she said as Kirari laid down in the open space beside her, "I could leave today. You know that."

Not yet. There was still too much to do and say-- things that Kirari wasn't ready to broach. It didn't mean they couldn't share good company with one another though. She stretched her arms over her head, as if settling down for a good nap. Instead, she turned to look, unsurprised to see how much Sayaka stiffened at the proximity. "Did you really want to know why?"

"... Why I was hired?"

"It wasn't your perfect record."

A frown tugged at her lips. Kirari couldn't help biting back a giggle as she reached out, cupping one cheek and pressing a thumb against the corner. Sayaka huffed, squirming away with what few inches were left in the bed. "You're teasing."

Kirari laughed in return.

"It couldn't have been what I said."

It was. She wasn't sure what all she could share in that moment, but Kirari still smiled-- felt the warmth against the younger's girl skin as she brushed a few hair strands back, thumb brushing over her brow in a comforting gesture. She hadn't been sure what exactly she wanted to convey in that, but to Kirari, it hardly mattered. She touched because she wanted to, and in the privacy of the hospital room, there wasn't anyone that could tell her no. No one that could see and say something.

No one to hurt her. To cripple her on her council floor- suffocating. Even now, her skin still didn't look right. Her hand traveled lower, brushing back over the jawline and stopping at Sayaka's chin.

"... President?"

She turned her face over left and right, cheek to cheek. No. The color still wasn't right, but it was coming back. She missed the way it had shimmered under the full moonlight. Bed of lillies.

What would've her body sounded like-- cracking against solid ground?

"President." Ah. That furrowed brow, scooting back closer. That was a more familiar look on her. "Something is on your mind, isn't it? Please, let me help you."

She wouldn't have liked it, though what would be the turning point? The morbid fascination, or the fear she suppressed in the pit of her stomach? The one that Kirari wasn't sure she wanted to recognize, to let the idea twist and consume her. Instead, she pressed soft lips against Sayaka's and enjoyed the way she melted against her.

On the bright side, Sayaka was surprisingly easy to distract. Even as she pulled away, even as her grin grew wide-- flashing whites, she hid the relief at seeing the worry melt away in her violet eyes. "Ririka did your interview."

Sayaka blinked.

"I don't remember what I was doing back then. Meeting your father, perhaps? He had been very concerned about my suggestions starting out. What would he do, I wonder, if he saw his daughter laying like this with me?" Not that he was any actual threat. Not like anyone was. "... In any case, Ririka told me what happened. Someone that saw right through a person so quickly. I had to see for myself."

"What?!"

The look on Sayaka's face was so striking. Kirari wasn't sure she had a proper name for it. Her eyes weren't as wide as she expected, but the sheer amount of horror that was reflected in her irises was--

Her cellphone buzzing on the desk cut her thoughts. Perhaps her twin had been summoned at the mere utterance of her name, or another hapless council member, calling to settle a petty dispute. A businessman or politician looking to strike a deal. Threatening voicemails from Terano? Perhaps she should deign whoever it was with a greeting.

Kirari spared one last glance at her startled patient before slipping out of the bed, taking dainty steps to her cell. She narrowed her eyes once she spotted the caller id on the screen. Nurse's station.

"Yes?" she greeted, already playing out a few scenarios in her mind. Blood work had come back with something unsuspected. Question about medical history. Someone from the academy had found them. Director was asking for money. Runa coming up to do her daily report on the election. Last one unlikely-- she usually just texted and met her in the lobby. If there had been a change though, beyond what wheels she had already put in motion--

"Totobami-san is here to see you," the nurse on the other end said, voice carefully stoic. "Would you like us to turn her away?"

A different sort of curse had taken root then. Kirari couldn't be surprised. "... No. Have her wait outside the door, please. I will let her in just a moment."

"Who is it?" Sayaka asked, just as Kirari hung up the phone.

She knew why Terano was here, but that presented a completely different problem. She still had her questions to ask. If it wasn't carefully structured, Terano could grow impatient, or Kirari would give away too much too quickly. She would need to get tea ready-- Chai was her favorite, wasn't it? A shame she didn't have coffee. That bitter stench suited the woman's soul far too well.

She turned her heel, ignoring Sayaka for the moment and instead reaching out for the privacy curtain. "Pretend to sleep?" Kirari asked half-way through extending it outward.

"Terano?"

She winked in response. "Wouldn't want to give her too much, would we?" She waited long enough to see Sayaka's assent, a slow nod and determination gleaned in her eyes. The swell of pride inside her was unsatiable. Kirari followed the metal track as she closed the curtain, stopping just shy of closing it completely for one last reminder. "Be my ears?"

"You don't even need to ask, President," and the smirk fitted her all too well, "Don't forget the chai?"

"Sleep well, Sayaka," and she smoothed the curtain as it closed. It wasn't long afterward that she heard Sayaka settle, shuffling whisper quiet like most things she did. Her sigh came out even, calmer than it should be. It was easy to straighten, shoulders broad and head high. She had left the blue at home today, but for Terano? She needed little.

Pausing only to boot up her laptop to some draft of the proposal left discarded on the floor, she swept up to the door gracefully and slid it open, welcoming Terano with a smile that she knew promised only danger to those that truly knew her.

And Terano looked even more sour than usual. My, her little guest was making quick work then. "You'll have to excuse me, Terano," she greeted as Yumi wheeled Terano in. Kirari closed the door behind them-- knowing full well this was a conversation best left in this room, "I would've had the tea ready if I knew you were coming."

"I'm always amazed about how often your hiding lacks even the briefest bit of subtlety."

"A bit early for the compliments, isn't it?" She turned to her electric kettle, balanced perhaps too dangerously on of the medical equipment carts and flipped the switch on. It would be much better with more traditional methods, but options were limited when confined to such a small room. Still, she turned to her desk next, ignoring the way Terano bore holes into her with every step, and dug through her mess to find the chai tea box. Loose tea leaves, naturally. A spoonful was only ever necessary. "I was surprised it took you this long to visit."

"Out of respect to Igarashi-san."

"I'll be sure to tell her when she wakes."

The intense study left her for a brief moment, only to trace Sayaka's silhouette along the curtain. Kirari pretended not to notice, not to wonder. Settling Terano first always was a priority, as that mind of hers so often thought and went beyond what she actually could do. She could admire her ambitions, her ruthlessness as she settled and resettled disputes. But it was that same sort of tact and shrewdness that left them at opposite ends of the desk, of the school, of the clan. One above, the other below.

Targeting Kirari directly wasn't Terano's style. She wondered if the change had been Miyo's idea, or perhaps, the plan had never come to her attention at all. She would find out soon enough. If it wasn't by a direct statement, Sayaka would pick up something between the lines. All she had to do was listen.

The tea kettle flipped to cool. She carefully dipped the tea leaves into a strainer and set it on a porcelain tea cup-- white with a gold trim. With careful hands, she poured the steaming water over the strainer, lifting the strainer off once the cup had been filled. The dark fluid inside looked like coffee if Kirari squinted perhaps.

Terano wheeled up to a clean spot at the desk, just as she set the tea down in front of her. There was never a thank you as Terano took the cup and tipped the tea in her mouth. She gave herself a moment to taste, savouring it, before finally swallowing-- her expression remaining mostly neutral except for the slightest angry twitch of her eyebrows.

"... You really suck at making tea," she remarked coldly.

Kirari only shrugged as she sat down behind her laptop, sparing a glance at the proposal form before shutting the lid close again to look at her cousin directly. "Is that so?"

"It's either the water's too hot, you burn the leaves, or you steep it too long. I've seen you screw up each step too many times to expect anything less."

"How polite of you to still accept it."

"Igarashi-san spoiled me, perhaps," Terano said and paused, as if a particular thought caught her interest. "The clan heads accepted your decision. I'm sure you're pleased the Inbami and Yobami integration went well without your help."

"It benefitted Miyo and Miri to make sure it did."

"They'll be back for you."

Kirari chuckled, "I'm sure." And it would go as this did, as it always did. Perhaps later down the road, they would realize the benefits that came with being one family again, or took it for granted as the sisters continued to plot and grab for more. They swam brilliantly in her aquarium, shined bright in her sea of blue.

Miyo was lucky she hadn't killed her.

Kirari brushed the thought aside and kept her hands from twitching, instead settling in her lap, legs crossed-- poised. "I'm certain you didn't come just to criticize my tea-making skills."

"You're right-- what the hell are you doing?"

She let her smile stretch, just a tad. "It was rather unkind of you not to invite them."

"Like you were involved with the vote buying at all," Terano rolled her eyes. "It took one week for Rei to be the talk of the school. The move's almost impressive if it benefitted you at all."

"But it doesn't benefit you even more, does it?"

Terano sighed. "You want me to admit to what happened? I had no involvement, Kirari."

She doubted that.

"To take something so precious from you? ... I'd rather do it with my own hands."

Kirari hadn't recoiled. She hadn't moved. The thought crossed her mind, like it had the card game years ago. Perhaps like her, she hadn't meant to shove her off the balcony like that. It was a thought and fascination that stuck to her, and it dug so deep that no amount of prying could remove it. She had wanted to see what a fall looked like. She had wanted to see what a body looked like, cracked and broken on the ground.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Kirari suggested, eyes picking up the garish paint of the voting chips-- of blues and reds and oranges. How far behind was she now, ignoring the world like she was? "Everyone loses a gamble sometime. It's the nature of things. You've always been a poor loser."

"At least try!" the snap had been unexpected.

Kirari's brows drew upward for just a second. Somehow, without even trying, she had managed to get under Terano's skin again. It should've been her that was angry. It's not like she wanted to be gone like this.

Terano breathed deep, eyes fluttering close just as Yumi came over, offering an uneasy smile to her. "You are the most infuriating person I've ever met, and I will absolutely make sure, when this is all done, you'll have nothing. Keep your shit tea, and be glad you can keep the one person that still tolerates you in any capacity another week."

"Tea on Friday then?"

She half expected Terano to throw the steaming cup at her with the way she leered back. "Let's go, Yumi."

Kirari didn't bother to open the door for them on their way out, deciding instead to count her blessings that the conversation hadn't included bodily injury and a possible tazer to her rival's neck. She wouldn't doubt Sayaka's reflexes if it came to it. Hopefully the rest of the day would be a bit more peaceful, a bit more--

She bit back a sigh as she spotted her twin's visage on the other side of the door in that brief moment between Yumi opening the door and closing it behind them.

Sometimes, it wasn't Sayaka suffocating. Those nightmares were the most vivid, but sometimes...

Sometimes she was waking in a field of lillies, moonlight and starlights shimmering above her and a tall, looming tower above them. Her heart would pound so loudly against her chest, exhilirated by a new experience. Like she could reach out with both hands and touch one of those stars, grasp it tightly in her palms like a lightning bug shyly ducking between her fingers.

And she would turn over and see glazed over eyes staring back, Sayaka's neck bent an odd angle and eyes wide in terror. Concern. Her body would be a shattered mess of broken bones and blood, and there would always be a chasm that Kirari would never, ever be able to cross.

She pulled the curtain back and over, nearly making Sayaka jump. Kirari quickly placed a finger over her lips, speaking so lowly that she had hoped Ririka wouldn't hear. "Ears closed."

Sayaka frowned, and she could already see the protest forming in her mind. She hoped she couldn't hear the roaring in her ears, how loud it seemed to be in her own. The way she looked at her was just so--

"I trust you, President."

Good girl. She kissed her forehead and waited long enough for her to settle before turning to meet her second guest for today. Despite it all, it would be hard not to just listen, wouldn't it? But Kirari still trusted her. She had nothing else to go on but that.

That wasn't shame, was it? The way her heart burned, seared so hotly and uncontrollable. She hated how badly her hands shook the longer she stared at them. She shouldn't have been angry. Ririka had come to her with... right intentions? They weren't the same as Terano's, but so easily it felt like something inside her was mocking her for her own decisions lately. She had been hiding. Had buried her head in a hole so deep, it worried her to pull it out.

Rei Batsubami bought her time, but it wasn't as an ally. When they came back, they would have to be--

Sayaka's steps were always quiet, far too hesitant after so long together, but she still heard them and she didn't flinch as one hand came up around her shoulder-- hesitant and tightly clenching. "We'll go back tomorrow," Sayaka said, as though it would soothe the burning. "We're attracting too much attention."

"I'll need you there."

"Of course, President."

"How long have you loved Mary?"

Her sister had looked surprised then. Was it how steady her heart seemed? Was it the tears? She hadn't even realized they were cascading down much later, not until she was back in the hotel room, the trails on her cheeks stark in her reflection in the vanity. It wasn't like Ririka to push, and she-- it almost made her proud to see how far she had grown then. To see how she stood at her two feet and looked at her with such fire that she didn't see herself looking back. She saw someone new, someone that was distinctly Ririka.

But it wasn't for very long. The bashfulness had returned with the question, hand retreating back to curl uncertainly close to herself-- as if to hide herself away and shrink into her seat. It had been far too late to though.

"I... I don't know what you mean by that."

"It's healthy to have a crush, Ririka."

"She just..."

Perhaps it shouldn't surprise her that things developed like this. She couldn't say if Mary was the sort to extend her hand out. Her heart had been right for what Kirari wanted, one that she had tried to carefully, rightfully guard from the wrongs of the world. Something about her own sister's kindness had touched hers perhaps.

She hoped none of the family would notice. Growing up had been spent watching over her twin too often, and she had been left wondering many times if there wasn't a better way. The mask had been a crutch for them both-- both to hide and both to duck around questions they didn't want to answer. Kirari supposed it had been natural that their first real conversation with one another only came after the mask had been removed from the equation.

The first thing she'd do when she returned home is shatter it.

"She'll win this election. I don't know what that'll mean for me, but... forgive me?"

"Be safe, Ririka."

Maybe it wasn't shame, but jealousy. The thought had crossed her mind a few times. No one could know. Sayaka couldn't know. So many of those predators gazes would turn from her, from the prize fish in the pool-- to her. The wall could only hold so much against a tide like that.

The safest thing to do would be to tell Sayaka to run. All the same, Kirari kept quiet, and hoped against hope she would come to the decision herself.

In the mean time, she would keep those lighter terms to herself. Of love and relationships, and hoped what she did show in those times together proved to be enough.

"Sister?"

Kirari looked up, eyes focusing on the familiar image as Ririka stood from her seat, uncertain and watching-- as if expecting to see the answers in her eyes instead. Kirari smiled good-naturedly, and hoped Ririka realized she meant it. "Go on. I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a dismissive wave. "If you run into Runa in the lobby, just tell her to come up. I'm very behind on paperwork at this point, and I would hate to wake Sayaka over a few drab signatures."

"What do you want out of this election?"

She really, really needed to leave. Her sister wasn't this socially dense.

"It just seems..."

"It doesn't hurt to have a bit of fun, isn't it?"

"But it--"

"Please be safe getting home, Ririka."

She never wanted her sister's pity again.

Rei called her that evening, long after she had settled down in her hotel room, after she had packed everything for after school, when she could slowly move her things back into the mansion. The distraction had been a nice reprieve, but the longer this restless and burning stayed, the more she realized Sayaka was right-- it couldn't be put off any longer.

"I hope Terano didn't give you any trouble," she said over speaker phone as she stacked paperwork together, remembering what order Sayaka had suggested it and liked. It was more about subject than alphabetical, wasn't it? Or was it more based on which business it was intended for? No doubt there would be an overflow of gambling invitations as well, something Kirari would insist they meticulously went through together this time. It had everything to do with debating Midari over semantics than the shock of--

"A few motivational letters, nothing more."

She chuckled and debated just torching the papers in front of her instead. She always preferred one-on-one meetings anyway. "She was always very good at that," this was going to be a very boring conversation if they stayed on the subject though. "I certainly hope you're not offering to align yourself with me, are you?"

She could practically hear their scowl bearing down on the receiver. "Hardly. When are you coming back?"

"Tomorrow. Why?"

"Your invitation is on your chair. I was going to leave it at your mailbox, but it--"

"That will be addressed, Rei. Thank you."

"Most of those votes are mine now anyway. Should make it short work for you."

It didn't surprise her, and she welcomed the challenge that would await her once she returned. Finally, someone was providing actual entertainment. She had almost forgotten why the election had started in the first place. Watching had its benefits, but she needed something. Something that wasn't just--

"I don't want a solo game."

She paused. "... Do you have a partner yet, Rei?"

"Yourself?"

"I suppose I could have a word with Sayaka on the matter." No doubt the girl would panic at the mere suggestion given to her. She had seen her stage plenty of slanted games at this point, paying cash for voting chips-- even admired the air of superiority and callousness that she carried as she executed her actions. But unlike Terano, she had always been a graceful loser.

Fully and completely herself, lending herself to her own logic and rationality when all else failed her. Yes. She would be a good partner for this crucial time.

"From what I understood, she never gambled before this."

She debated bringing up the Tower of Doors, but if the tale hadn't reached them yet, it was perhaps with good reason that it hadn't. "No real stakes, no, but against you, Rei, I don't think she'll disappoint."

"I'll find someone suitable then."

Always agreeable, even as their world collapsed around them. It was one of many reasons why she liked Rei personally, and many of those reasons why they despised her. Kirari never held those grudges personally, except for when she did-- now she guessed, those grudges weren't the healthiest to keep. She had an election to win after all. Perhaps she would invite Miyo and Miri for a private conversation when they returned. Remind them of what it meant to be under one family again.

"Do you think people see you as a person, Momobami-san?"

She considered everything from the last week or so, to the months before that-- to now, staring at discarded paperwork. "I suppose you would be familiar with the feeling."

"It's okay to say no."

"I would if I thought that was the actual question," she filed the papers away and ignored the way her stomach rumbled for now. Room service would just have to be late today it seemed. Again. "Your isolation had very different intentions from mine. You had no choice in yours."

The silence that followed on the other end was more thoughtful than she wanted. Rei had better things to do with their time than try to cut her into some tragic figure when there wasn't one. No large looming shadow over her head. No deep emotional scars that she couldn't recover from. It was all hers, and she took that in-- for the most part-- as proud as she always did.

"Was it really your choice though?"

It wasn't anyone else's.

"I didn't, personally. Not until you called me," Rei elaborated, voice still holding something wistful inside of it. It only left a better taste in Kirari's mouth. "For you to call someone that hates your guts this much. For help, even."

"You're part of the family. It wasn't fair that you weren't invited."

Rei laughed. "Like you really believe that. I'm not blind to the timing here."

True. She hadn't believed it. Rei's role in the family had never bothered her personally. A name and identity that had never crossed her mind for years. She didn't hate Rei so much as they didn't know them personally. But to them? To anyone in the outs with the family? She'd always be the prime target. The very thing members thought of as they wallowed in their misfortune. What was it to Kirari though? It wasn't as if she had been ignorant to the processes growing up, to now. If anything, there was a sort of pleasure that twisted inside her when she saw the sheer terror on Miyo's face the other day, realizing that it wasn't death that awaited them.

And now? Her plan seemed to be going nicely. The voting pool had been dried up, courtesy of the very same person she spoke with now. She hadn't even needed to direct them to do it.

"How much are we betting when I get back?"

So long as she kept her focus on the goal, it didn't matter.

The uniform looked almost alien on her now. It hadn't surprised her that Sayaka was ready by the time Kirari's driver pulled to the hospital to pick her up, but she couldn't help being slightly taken aback by how... normal they both seemed now. How many times had she watched her like this? Legs crossed, prim and proper-- nary a thread out of places. The stack of paperwork in her lap kept balance through every bump and curve as they made their way back to Hyakkaou. At some point, they'd been ordered to whatever way her secretary had needed it from the haphazard packing Kirari did last night. Light fingers thumbed through the pages, a light subconscious hum filling the silence between them.

Aside from a little paleness? Normal. The poison and games seemed but a distant memory in that small span of time. And yet...

"President, if I may?"

What an odd phrase. She'd heard hundreds of times now, but it pulled Kirari's attention easily, even as Sayaka looked as still as ever. Like she hadn't been there at all. "What's on your mind?"

"Do you want to go back?" Reflexively, her expression tightened, and all too quickly, the fear washed over Sayaka's face-- suddenly again the startled deer of a middle schooler. "I'm sorry-- that isn't--"

"No. I do..." Parsing her words was her best and perhaps worst talent. It was easier when there wasn't something in her mind already, and she supposed now, it couldn't be put off any longer. She held a finger just a moment before tapping on the driver window. Aged, indistinct eyes stared back wordlessly. "Long way, please."

Sayaka looked horrified at the suggestion. "You have a meeting with Runa first thing."

"She can wait. This... You're important." Sayaka only stared wordlessly back, but the flush against her cheeks was unmistakable. "I need you to promise me to never do that again."

"President--"

She held a hand up, and immediately, the voice quieted, but she could still see the fire in Sayaka's eyes. "Promise me. It's going to happen again-- someone's going to come and risk my life. Let it be mine."

"You can't expect me to agree to that!"

"You will." Because it was enough to dream of it. It was enough to imagine it and wonder. How many more people would know that she had something to lose now? "I need you as a partner. Gambling with me. Risking everything with me." A shield, safety net. If people saw the same of her, they wouldn't think of before. She ignored the way the words twisted inside her as she reached forward, fingers lightly brushing Sayaka's knee as she forced the younger girl to look at her. She needed to see that strength inside-- needed to pull it out, not just for herself but for Kirari as well. "You are my second. Do you understand? Promise me."

The squeeze did it, she thought. Her eyes flickered just briefly to the contact before meeting her own-- still brewing darkly. She could see the way her mind ticked and strategized. Thought. Sometimes it'd been better when she didn't see how it all worked.

"... I promise," Sayaka lied.

It hurt even more to let Sayaka believe she got away with it.

"You're running out of time, President~."

Midari had said that, didn't she? When did they start having their own voices? It was easier to pretend those ambitions were never there-- only to punish them when they came out to the open. Mayuda had been stupid, and Midari even worse.

But at least they had tried before.

The tower found her first. Sayaka had looked almost heartbroken when she was dismissed for the day, but the sooner they returned to normalcy, the better. Kirari had been grateful the looks weren't as severe as she had expected, and for now, people had let her be. The mail sorted through, meetings adjourned, paperwork completed and submitted. She had forgotten how monotonous the whole process was. She had forgotten the way her skin itched at the mere sight, and all too quickly, she was looking for anything as a reprieve.

The invitation in her hands had proven fascinating enough. The wax seal had been placed perfectly in the middle, nary a drip in sight, and yet the Batsubami kanji was clearly handmade. The mark at the edge of the circle, bearing the creator's signature was missing, and the kanji was just ever so slightly off center from the actual circle. Now? Assuredly broken, but the invitation itself had the most beautiful calligraphy. A careful, practiced hand.

Rei. What sort of gambler had they become?

The excitement that tingled her finger tips had a new sort of anxiety mixed in with it-- an ugly masterpiece that if looked under the right light, had its own, particular humane beauty to it. She hated it.

Maybe that's what drew her there. To the field of lillies, not as luminascent in the bright sun, but a shining contrast to the dull concrete pathways that cut into it, still a romantic addition to the metallic tower that loomed above them as its creeking shadow. Sayaka had acted exactly as she had imagined it, shone even brighter than the sun or moon. Eclipsed everything and everyone.

She held the invitation up to the sun, noting idly that the paper was also a cheaper quality than ones usually sent by the Bami clan. The chips were kept closely guarded then. Kirari had wondered if Rei wouldn't at least sell off one or two-- enough to secure themselves in the event that things did go sour as it should. It would've been the safer bet, and yet, Kirari couldn't say she was disappointed.

If they had, they could've afforded better envelopes.

"Oh, President!"

Kirari smiled, and brought the envelope back down as she turned her heel to greet her visitor. "Yumeko," she regarded, "I hope you haven't issued a challenge yet. I'm afraid my schedule is quite tied up today."

"I can see that." Still, her rival stood beside her, admiring the scenery before them. The silence that fell was comfortable, even as Kirari knew that this wasn't just a stop for idle chit chat.

Yumeko was safe though. She never needed to worry about anything beyond when the next gamble would be offered, and how it would transpire. They were, after all, creatures of habit. And even as much as Kirari hid, she would always find herself waiting for the next game, the next draw, the next bet.

Sayaka would be drawn into that madness, and there was nothing Kirari could do to stop that.

"A shame this election can't run forever," Yumeko sighed wistfully, drawing her away from her thoughts.

Kirari chuckled in return. "I will have to come up with something better for next time, won't I?"

"You're willing to give up everything, aren't you?"

No. Never. Especially not now. "Of course."

"Then I will have to start drafting that invitation~" As cheery and airy her voice was, Kirari found it difficult to know if that had been genuine or not. The excitement of a new gamble would always be for Yumeko, but whether she would believe such sweet venom, so much like her own? Perhaps it was better never knowing. "Give Batsubami-san my regards, will you? Oh! Igarashi-san too."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

Again, an airy giggle, though she doubted the sarcasm was left unnoticed by Yumeko. Kirari slid the invitation back into the pocket of her blazer and turned toward the rest of the path. She still had homework to pick up from teachers before the game started, and Yuriko... Yuriko wanted something, didn't she? Maybe it was just an arrangement of club finances. She was always so concerned about one week to--

"President?" She glanced back to Yumeko, and felt how heated those red eyes were. "I hope it's all worth it for you. It most certainly will be for me."

At this point?

At this point, Kirari wasn't sure.

#kiwi crossposts #kakegurui #fanfiction #multichapter fics #kirasaya #kirarixsayaka #kirari x sayaka #maryxririka #mary x ririka

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lirlovesfic · 6 years

Text

The Choice

A Doctor Who fanfic

Summary: After GitF, the TARDIS brings the Doctor, Rose, and Mickey back to the estate to solve a problem involving the TARDIS herself. But when they see a familiar face, the face of someone who should not exist, they realize the problem is deeper than they thought and could endanger the Doctor’s very existence. Primary characters: Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Mickey Smith, Jackie Tyler. Genres: Romance, mystery, adventure, drama, character study, HN AU, fobbed!Nine, sick TARDIS. Pairings: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose Rating: Adult

Warning: none for this chaper

a/n: I am currently working on editing this chapter-by-chapter, with the hopes of completing a chapter a day until I catch up with myself. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m doing it to try to get back into the swing of writing and to build some momentum in order to finish this. Also, there have been some tiny things nagging at me for a while (grammar, punctuation, etc.) so I’ll be correcting as many of them as I can find as I go. The story will not change. In fact, most of the changes are going to be so minor that I doubt anyone (besides myself) will notice. But to keep myself on target, I’ll be posting it all here as I go, with links to the other websites it’s on. I hope you enjoy it.

Catch up: on AO3, on TSP, on ffnet

This chapter: on AO3, on TSP, on ffnet

Chapter Fifteen—London, 15 July 2007

John absently let the cat out as he frowned at the sheet of paper in his hand. The likeliest writers of the crude note were of course Chuck and Jimmy, both of whom he'd had run-ins with the previous day.

On the other hand, there were at least half a dozen others on the Estate who hated him enough to write the note, and that didn't include a few of his former customers and possibly half his coworkers at the garage who didn't like him either. Well, it wasn't his job to be liked, and for the most part he didn't care one way or the other how they felt about him. Truth be told, he didn't like them either.

At the sound of Rose coming out of the kitchen, he hurriedly shoved the note in his pocket. She met him by the door.

"I gotta get going." She glanced down at herself. "I really need to change. Bananas in nightcaps is a bit much even for the Estate."

"Dunno," he said, trying to keep a straight face. He knew he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it. "I think it suits you, and I've seen people wear things around here that makes that look like formal evening wear."

She chuckled. "Still, gotta get home before my mum does. Don't ask."

He grinned. "I won't."

She reached for the door handle, and he stopped her.

"Rose, I've got a couple of things to do this afternoon, but… d'you wanna to do something later? We could go out, or maybe get takeaway and watch a movie?"

Her face lit up. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

"I'll pick you up. Which flat's yours again?"

She hesitated for a second, just long enough for John to wonder if she didn't want to tell him.

"Number 48," she said. Then she added quickly, "Where's your phone?" After searching the flat for a bit and finding it next to his computer, he handed it to her. She rapidly typed her phone number into his contacts list. "Just call me when you're done."

He nodded.

When she didn't immediately move to open the door, an awkward pause descended. She seemed reluctant to leave, or at least seemed to be waiting for him to do something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. She'd just spent the better part of the night with him, albeit platonically, sort of, and then had made him breakfast. What was an appropriate way to say goodbye? Did he shake her hand? Kiss her on her forehead? His impulse was to snog her for all she was worth, but he immediately rejected that as an option.

Before he could decide what to do, she opened the door. Impulsively he stopped her again.

"Rose."

Her hand still on the doorknob, she looked up at him. With a small smile he cupped her cheek, lowered his head to hers and gently, gently kissed her. When he pulled away, her eyes were huge. "See you later," he told her.

She nodded dumbly and slipped out the door.

After the door had closed behind her and he knew for certain she was gone, he pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She hadn't kissed him back. She'd even looked a bit shocked.

Maybe he'd made a mistake, he thought, read her signals wrong. After all, he was old enough to be her father. Perhaps the age gap between them was just too much for her to handle. Maybe, despite the flirting, she just wanted to be friends with him.

But he'd been so sure…

But she did say she wanted to go out with him that night, so maybe he hadn't misread her, or at least not entirely. Was he moving too quickly?

Not quickly enough?

No, that didn't make any sense, not based on her reaction to his kiss.

He snorted and shook his head, amused at his train of thought. According to his ID he was forty, but around her he felt like a teenager, all pounding hearts and sweating palms. What was it about Rose Tyler that made him so nervous and unsure of himself? He didn't feel like that around anyone else on the planet.

When she had fallen asleep on him, it had briefly crossed his mind he should wake her, but he hadn't had the heart to do so. He had also considered laying her down on the sofa and allowing her to sleep while he returned to his own room. But it had felt so good having her in his arms. It had been literally the first time in his admittedly short memory that he had held someone like that. Moreover, it had been Rose, the person he had grown to care about far more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Before he had realized he had done it, he had pulled the blanket to cover them both and had lain back on the armrest, pulling her tightly against his chest. He had been rewarded with a soft sigh from Rose.

He had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.

But then he had woken up and she hadn't been there. For a moment he had been scared she had left, had been uncomfortable at how the evening had ended and had snuck out without saying goodbye. He had immediately worried that he had read her signals wrong, had taken things too far by holding her in his arms as she slept.

And then he had heard her rustling in the kitchen. And realized she had stayed. The tension he hadn't even realized he'd been holding inside released in a rush, to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of relief.

What was it about Rose Tyler?

He sighed heavily, wondering how one young woman could turn his life upside down in the span of one week, and how already he couldn't imagine his life without her in it.

~oOo~

Rose crossed the courtyard and made her way up the stairwell to her mother's flat, barely noticing her surroundings, still in a daze over what had happened.

He had kissed her.

John had kissed her.

She had been surprised, thrilled even, to wake up in his arms, but as amazing as that had been, that was nothing compared to what had just happened.

He had kissed her.

He had actually kissed her.

And not with the almost parental kiss on the forehead her first Doctor had occasionally given her, and not in exuberance as her second Doctor had done once. True, it wasn't the snog Cassandra had given him while in control of her body, but it was a real kiss. On the lips.

And deliberate. Intentional.

She traced her fingertips over her still tingling lips.

Memories, forgotten, dreamlike memories of her time as Bad Wolf fought to rise to the surface. She barely remembered what had happened in the time between her looking into the Heart of the TARDIS and waking up to the Doctor regenerating, but one image had stayed with her. A vision of the Doctor, this Doctor, kissing her. It was a memory she had always discounted as false. A fantasy. No more than wishful thinking.

But this hadn't been a fantasy. No matter how brief, this had been an actual kiss.

With a smile spreading across her face, she ran up the rest of the stairs thinking about how she couldn't wait to see him later.

~oOo~

Jackie tiptoed down the hall, in part not to wake Rose, but mostly because any type of noise, including the sound of her own footfalls on the carpet, caused her head to pound. Once in the kitchen, she looked again at the scrap of paper in her hand. It wasn't the first time she had received a foul note like this one. Truth be told, she'd periodically received them for more than a decade, ever since she'd truly begun to date again after Pete's death. They tended to be from ex-boyfriends after bad breakups, or from the ex-girlfriends of whoever was her current boyfriend. Less often, they'd be from someone whom she'd turned down at the local. Occasionally, like this time, she wouldn't know who it was from. But in all the years she'd received them, she'd always hid them from Rose.

No reason to worry her. They always came to nothing.

She crumpled up the paper and shoved it deep into the bin, underneath old magazines and kitchen scraps before starting her morning tea.

She filled the electric kettle and turned it on. Normally she made a pot of tea the old-fashioned way, loose leaves in a pre-warmed pot. She prided herself that she was known on the Estate for her tea—she ignored the fact that she was known for other things as well. This morning however she didn't feel up to the trouble. She could do that later.

No, for this first cuppa, she was going to have to settle for a teabag. She retrieved a mug and the box of teabags from the cupboard and winced again as the cupboard door closed. She put the heels of her hands to her head and rubbed her temples.

Yes, she definitely needed the tea. And a couple of paracetamol.

As she opened a different cupboard in search of the jar of painkillers, Jackie heard the door to the flat quietly open and close. Puzzled, and wondering if her hangover extended into hearing things that weren't there, she stuck her head out of the kitchen and cautiously looked down the hall. Her eyebrows shot up. Rose was sneaking in. That wasn't unusual in itself, but her attire was. Usually when she snuck into the flat she wasn't wearing a nightgown.

And she had a big smile on her face.

"And where have you been?" Jackie demanded. She winced at the loudness of her own voice, ignoring the fact that she'd only gotten home minutes earlier, and wearing what she had worn the night before to boot. "You've been wi' him, haven't you?"

Rose's smile disappeared. "It's not what you think," she protested.

"And coming home in your nighty?" Jackie said in disbelief and then winced again. "Honestly, Rose, could you be more obvious?"

Rose sighed loudly. "It's not what it looks like."

Jackie crossed her arms in front of her in her scolding mother stance. "'We're not like that, Mum.' 'We're just friends, Mum.' I'll tell you, I've never come home in my nighty after a night with Bev. And not with a cat who ate the canary grin like you had when you came in." She pursed her lips. "Well, at least his nibs is human now. If you get up the duff, at least my grandchild won't have tentacles."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Don't use all the hot water!" Jackie called after her.

~oOo~

Once she had escaped to the relative refuge of the bathroom and away from her mother's nagging, Rose's grin returned. She pulled off her nightclothes, including the bananas in nightcaps nightshirt that had ironically been given to her by a later version of the same Doctor she had just left, and got into the shower. As the hot water washed over her, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be carried away by the memory of the kiss. It had been more than just a brush of the lips. It had been soft, slow, and absolutely lovely. And over far too soon. She would have loved it to have been longer, but she had been so surprised by it that it had been over before she could respond.

And she was kicking herself over that because she was sure that had she reacted more quickly, or at all actually, it would have turned into a proper snog.

But it was fantastic just the same.

After her shower, wearing a large, pink bath towel with another, smaller towel tightly wrapped around her hair, she went to her room to get dressed, still thinking about the extraordinary kiss.

Only the sight of her room brought her back to reality. The clothes she had worn the day before were lumped in a pile next to the bed, while other of her belongings from the TARDIS were scattered here and there around the room. More of her things erupted from her rucksack that she had dropped in the corner of her room a week earlier.

Part of the mess was simply a function of her personality and the way she had been brought up. Her mother had never been particularly concerned about neatness. Oh, the dishes were always washed, the laundry was always done, and the carpet was hoovered regularly. But the clean dishes sat next to the sink in the kitchen, never seeming to make their way back into the cupboards. Fashion magazines and romance novels competed for space with the post on the tables and chairs in the lounge while folded laundry was stacked haphazardly on any available surface in the flat.

Jackie's lackadaisical attitude towards order had been passed on to her daughter. Rose had always felt she had better things to do than tidy up her room. She wasn't bothered by it, telling herself that compared to her mother and Mickey, she was the very definition of organization.

The only time she even made an effort to be tidy was on the TARDIS, and that was more because she knew that the Doctor liked things in order and she didn't want him to think less of her, not out of any inner sense of neatness.

Rose sighed. This morning her room was even more of a disaster than usual, and that was saying something. To be fair, she told herself, the condition of the room was in part due to leaving the flat in a hurry in the middle of the night.

She rummaged through her clothes, looking for something to wear and wondering if she could get her mother to wash some of her laundry for her. After a bit of a search, she found a clean pair of jeans and a bright pink top. She pulled them on, shoved her mobile in her pocket, and then made a halfhearted effort to tidy her room, looking for dirty clothes to put in the wash.

She straightened her duvet and began to replace her pillows at the head of her bed. As she picked up a stray pillow that had somehow landed on the floor, she spotted the cube that held the Doctor's holographic message to her sitting on the bedside table.

With a rush Rose remembered the reason she was here in the first place. She felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't been left on the Estate to flirt with John, and she certainly hadn't been left here to snog him. She'd been left here to make sure her first Doctor didn't get into trouble as a human.

Unconsciously she reached up and touched the key to the TARDIS that she always wore on a chain around her neck. She had more than a sneaking suspicion that to the Doctor, a cuddle and a kiss would fall under the classification of trouble.

The twinge of guilt grew, and she shoved the feeling aside. What was done was done, she told herself. If the Doctor ever remembered this, she'd just have to deal with the consequences, whatever they were. And from now on she'd just have to cool things down between them a bit, make sure nothing happened between them that the Doctor'd regret later.

But in the meantime, she had a job to do. After the difficulty she'd had trying to reach the Doctor on her mobile, it was obvious that the problems with the TARDIS were far worse than she had realized, far worse than just him not being able to return in ten seconds. Although the Doctor had told both her and Mickey that the TARDIS had also been affected by whatever had caused her to turn her first Doctor human, she hadn't understood the extent of the problem. The Doctor's magnificent, wonderful Time and Space ship was so powerful, so beyond her human understanding that she hadn't been able to imagine anything seriously hurting her.

But now it was clear the ship was hurt. Badly.

If she was badly hurt, what did that mean for the Doctor and Mickey? Would they even be able to get back?

She needed to figure out if there was something she could do to help them from here. And that involved a quick trip to the TARDIS. The one that was still here.

She frowned. Unfortunately, there was no direct way to get there. And she certainly didn't want to take a twenty-minute walk—one way—if she didn't have to. But she was broke until she got paid by the garage, and that wouldn't be for another week so she couldn't take the bus.

It wasn't a big deal, she told herself. She ran a lot further than that on a typical day with the Doctor. She was just being lazy. And if she was going to get there and get back before John was done with whatever he had to do, she had better get going.

As Rose walked out of her bedroom, she could hear the shower running. As much as she loved her mum, she was relieved because that meant she'd be able to avoid another lecture.

"Mum, I'm heading out," she called through the closed door. "Can you do some of my laundry while I'm gone?" There was no answer.

Inwardly shrugging, she walked into the lounge to leave her mother a note.

And spotted her mum's handbag.

She shouldn't, she thought. She really shouldn't. At least not without asking.

Rose returned to the bathroom door. "Mum, can I borrow ten quid and your Oyster card? I'll pay you back when I get paid."

She heard her mother say something. She thought.

"Well, that could have been a yes," Rose said aloud. She swiped the card and fifteen pounds, rather than ten, out of her mother's purse before quickly scribbling a note telling her she'd be back in an hour or two and heading out the door.

Taking the bus turned out to not be much quicker than walking, but at least it was cooler. July in London wasn't as hot as, say, Ancient Rome had been, but the day was warm. And uncomfortably humid. She was grateful for the transport.

And she would pay her mum back. Really.

Rose stared unseeing out the window, memories of the morning returning unbidden as the bus made its circuitous way through Peckham.

The warm, comforting weight of John's arm around her as they lay on the sofa under a blanket.

The softness of his T-shirt under her cheek.

His even softer lips on hers.

They were memories that would fuel her fantasies for months, if not longer.

Her thoughts took a decidedly naughty turn as she imagined his soft lips trailing down her throat, moving ever lower…

Rose shook off the fantasy as the bus neared her stop. She shouldn't be thinking about him like that. Nothing good could come of it, particularly after the Doctor and Mickey returned. Instead she should be thinking about what she'd do when she got to the TARDIS.

Her stop was a block away from the TARDIS, and as she got off the bus she got a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that grew the closer she got to the alley where she was parked.

What if the TARDIS didn't open for her?

What if she did?

If she managed to get inside, then what? She couldn't repair her. Maybe she could use the phone to call the Doctor and Mickey in the TARDIS in her proper time stream.

Would that even work?

Well, at the very least she'd be able to get the watch that held the Doctor's consciousness back, she told herself. But how would that help? She wasn't supposed to open it unless there was an emergency, and certainly there was no emergency right now. Or at least she didn't think so. Would she even know what constituted an emergency in the Doctor's mind? Short of a full out alien invasion or John being on the verge of death, she wasn't sure what one would be.

Rose rounded the corner of the alley—and there she was. The TARDIS. She closed the distance between herself and the Doctor's magnificent Time and Space ship at a jog.

"I missed you," Rose whispered when she reached her, and it wasn't until that moment that she realized how much. She'd known for a long time that she no longer belonged on the Estate, that the TARDIS was her home and would be her home for as long as the Doctor let her stay. She missed the Doctor, she missed traveling in the TARDIS, but she also missed the ship herself. She teased the Doctor about stroking random bits of the TARDIS, but now she did it herself, rubbing her hand over the ridges on the door.

"How you doin', girl?" she asked. She moved her hand to one of the side ridges. "Feelin' any better? Sorry I haven't been by to visit." She frowned as something occurred to her. "Do you even know who I am? I'm Rose, Rose Tyler, and I travel with you, or at least I will."

To her surprise, Rose felt a wave of warmth, something she interpreted as recognition, emanating from the TARDIS. She'd only rarely been able to feel anything from the TARDIS, and only since she'd looked into her Heart. That hadn't happened for this TARDIS yet though, so she couldn't understand why she'd feel anything.

But that wasn't important. What was important was getting inside. What she'd do once there she had no idea, but with her phone unable to reach the Doctor she knew that she had no chance of helping him or Mickey or even the TARDIS unless she was inside.

Rose pulled her key out from under her shirt and slipped its chain over her head. She started to put the key in the lock, and then she stopped herself.

"You're not going to shock me like you shocked the Doctor, are you?" she asked. She didn't really expect an answer so she wasn't surprised when she didn't get one.

After another moment's hesitation, Rose cautiously put the key in the lock.

It wouldn't turn.

She didn't get a shock, but the door didn't unlock either. She tried again, this time wiggling the key in the lock while pushing and then pulling on the door, but it didn't help. The door stayed firmly closed.

Rose let out a loud sigh of disappointment. "Damn. Now what?"

The TARDIS made a quiet, sickly sound that sounded a little like a queasy stomach. She patted the ship comfortingly.

"Don't worry," Rose said. "The Doctor'll get this sorted. You know him. He's brilliant. He can sort just about anything. Don't tell him I said that though. Don't want his head getting any bigger than it already is." She smiled when the light on the top of the tall blue box flashed weakly, as if in agreement.

Rose sat down on the ground and leaned back against the door while she thought.

The Doctor had said the TARDIS would lock him out while she healed herself and that that could potentially take months. It had only been a week. Hardly any time at all, really.

No, that wasn't right. Even though she'd only been here a week, John said he'd come to in an alley—and she knew it was this alley—with no memories on New Year's. That meant that this TARDIS had already been here over six months and still wasn't better.

Rose ran through their arrival back at the Powell Estate in her mind, from the Cloister bell ringing and their emergency landing, to watching the holographic record they'd seen of the TARDIS turning the Doctor human and forcing him out of the ship, to the Doctor's goodbye just before he and Mickey left. Looking back, she realized that the Doctor'd been worried that the reason their TARDIS had brought them here was because the ship couldn't heal herself at all without their help.

She could even die.

And of course the Doctor hadn't said, not directly at any rate. Typical. Why couldn't he just say things flat out? She felt a fleeting wave of anger at him—honestly, it would have been helpful to know that straight off—that was quickly replaced by worry for both him and the TARDIS.

And being stuck here there was nothing she could do. She couldn't call the Doctor, and with the TARDIS door still locked, there was no way she could help him. She couldn't even get the fob watch.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was that although she didn't want the TARDIS to be hurt, and of course she didn't want the Doctor and Mickey to be in danger, there was a tiny little selfish part of herself that had been glad when the door wouldn't open, because it meant she'd have more time with John.

#The Choice #ficandchips #nine x rose #ten x rose #fobbed!Nine #revised #yay I got another chapter done before I had to leave #more tomorrow

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