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He was definitely a scotch man now.
The Doctor watched as the brown liquid swirled in the bottom of his glass. There was something about it. Maybe it was the way it burned his tongue slightly as he drank, or the way it made his belly warm despite having it 'on the rocks' most of the time. He would drink it any way just as long as it was a good vintage. He even enjoyed the occasional scotch and soda. Clara didn't like scotch. And if he was being perfectly honest, he wasn't sure if she liked him much anymore either. His body was too old. It frightened her. Or at least that was what he had gathered from her reaction to the regeneration.
Why this face though?
Something kept bothering him about his face. He had seen it, somewhere. But where? So many things that he wanted to remember but couldn't. Like the roses in the vases that decorated the pub he was in. They reminded him of something; something that he longed for...
He just couldn't fucking remember what it was.
A woman, blonde, strolled up beside him at the bar. She looked like she was having a rough go of it as well. She glanced at his drink, but not at him. She was too young and pretty for an old prat like him though, wasn't she?
“I'll have what he's having, but make it a double,” she said with resignation in her voice, leaning against the bar.
He wondered what made her so tired. How her eyes that looked so young, looked so old at the same time. He watched her as she pulled at the cuffs of her blue leather jacket, making it so they covered as much of her hands as possible.
“Six hours,” she mumbled, shaking her head and covering her face with her hands.
He was curious.
The bartender set her drink in front of her and she peeked out from behind her hands to eye the drink. From what he could tell, it was like she was trying to decide whether or not she was going to drink it at all. Then she grabbed the glass and downed the whole thing, wincing as she swallowed. Once she recovered, she signaled the bartender for another.
“That was nice,” she said, finally looking at him. “Good choice. You know your scotch.”
“It tastes a lot better if you don't drink it like a shot,” the Doctor said to her with a smile. She grinned back at him, a smile that was familiar, but not.
He caught a whiff of something.
She smelled like time. Time and scotch. He liked that combination.
She was a time traveler.
The bartender brought her her second drink and she lifted the cup, waiting for him to lift his so they could drink together.
“Easy now,” he reminded her with a chuckle. He wanted to get drunk with her, he suddenly realized, as she lifted the glass to her lips to sip the drink as he was. Those lips, he had decided, hadn't been kissed enough recently.
Where did that come from?
She set the glass down again and looked at him. She was taking in his hair, every line on this daft old face, his attack eyebrows. There was no way she would ever want to...
Her hand was in his hair. And it felt marvelous.
Suddenly, she jerked it back like it had burned her. “I'm sorry, I...I don't know why I did that,” she stammered, picking up the glass again and downing the rest of her drink like a pro this time.
“It's quite alright. No harm done,” the Doctor said. “Just don't try and hug me. I'm not a hugging sort of man.” Why was he laughing? And why was she looking at him like that?
She spoke quickly, like she was confessing something. “I had this friend once. He wasn't fond of salutes. Hated them, actually. Probably as much as you hate hugging.” She signaled the bartender for yet another and swallowed hard, looking away. Looking at anything really. Anything but him. He had finally said the wrong thing.
“I'm sorry I didn't-”
She shook her head, looking at him again. He couldn't help but notice she was fighting back tears. “It's fine, really.” But he knew it wasn't.
“So...How was work today?” he asked, completely changing the subject. The abrupt switch must have alarmed her. She glanced around the room quickly, before her eyes fell on his again. “Sorry, I'm really mucking this up aren't I?”
“No, it's just... work is the last thing I want to think about right now.”
“Then what do you want to think about?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. God, her eyes were beautiful. A deep whiskey color. He could drink those eyes.
Seriously, what was wrong with him? He hadn't even known her ten minutes.
“Nothing. I don't want to think about anything. I have six hours. Well...less now, where I don't have to think about a damn thing. No dimension canon, no saving the world, no finding the-” She stopped suddenly, knowing she had begun to slip and said too much. But whatever it was she had said, he hadn't really been paying attention because he was too busy watching the way her lips shaped the words she was speaking. How her tongue peeked out just enough as she...
“Bartender- I think I too, shall have another,” he said abruptly, snapping his fingers at the man almost impatiently.
“Sorry,” she continued. “No talking about work. What do you say?” she asked, looking at him hopefully.
“Agreed. Very much agreed.” He replied, his Scottish accent choosing to be very thick at that moment.
“So Scottish,” the woman said with a cheeky grin, “what brings you to London?”
“I'm waiting for a friend. She's on a date,” he answered with a grumpier look than he meant to. “She's going out with P.E., again!”
“P.E.?”
“Well, he says he's a maths teacher, but I don't buy it for a second. Something about him screams cross country.”
She giggled. She truly giggled. He wasn't trying to be funny, but she laughed like he had just made the funniest joke in the world.
“You're jealous,” she pointed out, handing him his drink that the bartender finally brought to them. Their fingers brushed for just a moment as she passed him the glass; the feeling of touching her was electric. He wondered for a second if she felt it too. “You like her.”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, it's not like that. She's just a friend.”
“Denial!” she teased, pointing at him.
“No really, she's much too young. And besides, it would never work.”
“Married?”
“Widowed.” I think.
“Sorry,” she said genuinely, reaching over and taking his hand, covering his knuckles with her palm and squeezing lightly.
They both sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, nursing their drinks. The Doctor could tell he was finally feeling the effects of his.
The woman turned to him suddenly with an odd look on her face, blurting out, “I'm sorry, but have we met before? It's just that you seem familiar.”
The Doctor studied the woman. She certainly felt familiar, and for all he knew he did know her, but instead of opening up that can of worms, he said with a shake of his head, “Sorry, no. I don't believe so.”
He looked down at the bar. They were still holding hands. It was nice. He wasn't a hand holder any more, but there was something about this that was familiar. Seeing their hands like that, brought him a sense of comfort he hadn't felt in a very long time, and from the looks of it, it comforted her as well.
“Sorry, is that bugging you?”
She let go of his hand and made to move her hand to her lap, but he reached out and grabbed it.
“No, it's just....I remember enjoying this very much a long time ago. Well, I think it was a long time ago,” he said absentmindedly as he twined his fingers with hers, “Sometimes in life, all you need is a hand to hold.”
The woman smiled sadly, slowly untangling her fingers from his own and reached for her glass again. She took a fairly large swig from it, and then another.
“What are you running from?” he asked suddenly, not looking at her.
The woman cleared her throat. “Not as much running from something, as it is running to something. It's just taking a lot longer than expected. A lot longer.” She sighed loudly. “Its been a lonely trip, but in the end...it'll be worth it, ” He could tell she was trying to sound hopeful, but she was failing miserably.
He couldn't remember when it was that she sat down. But she had, because she had just rested her head on his shoulder.
His hearts were racing. He didn't understand why his body was betraying him like this with a woman he barely even knew. It must be the scotch. He grabbed his drink and threw it back, downing it much like she had when she first arrived.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked suddenly. He couldn't believe he asked that. He looked away quickly. It was a mistake. She was going to turn him down any second. His hearts clenched in terror at the thought.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. Her eyes glittered with mischief that wasn't there just moments before and a cheeky smile crept over her face, making his cock twitch. “Thought you'd never ask,” she breathed, and he looked at her with disbelief. She took another sip of her scotch and set down the glass, pushing her bar stool back. She dug into her pocket and threw down a mess of pound notes, not bothering to count them. Tugging on his hand, she pulled him off his own stool and towards the hallway in the back of the pub.
It was dark there in the hallway, a bulb was out; with loos on either side of the back exit.
She shoved him against a wall, pressing her body impossibly close to his. Her hands gripped his biceps tightly, as she struggled to come to a decision about what she was going to do. She was breathing hard and he couldn't tell from the way she was looking at him if she was going to change her mind, or snog the life out of him.
“I...I don't usually do things like this,” she confessed nervously.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don't usually do things like this either.”
She must have decided to snog the life out of him, because before he could even think about what was happening, she was standing on her tiptoes doing just that. Her kiss was desperate and full of want. She bit at his bottom lip like a starving animal and the Doctor responded in kind. He might not care much for hugging, but kissing? Kissing was marvelous! She opened her mouth for him and he was allowed his first taste of her. Before he knew it her hands were in his hair, grabbing and fisting greedily as her hips ground into his, making him want to do things to her that he hadn't done with anyone in at least 1000 years.
He had to stop her. But there was a part of him that didn't want to stop at all. He pried her away from his lips and she looked at him, surprised. He couldn't believe he was going to try and talk her out of this. He wanted her. Bad.
“I'm an old man.”
“So?”
“You don't know me.”
“Does that really matter? I mean, we already came to the conclusion that we don't do this sort of thing.” She leaned in closely and whispered in his ear, while her hand clutched at his jumper under his jacket.
“But...if you don't want to be fucked, that's okay. I guess.”
She turned then, letting him go. The loss of contact was almost maddening as she walked towards the ladies room. But before disappearing behind the door, she looked at him; her eyes beckoning him to follow.
And that's when he knew. He was gonna fuck a perfect stranger in the loo of a pub somewhere in 21st century London.
**
The Doctor entered the ladies room, shutting the door quietly behind him as he stared at the beautiful blonde in front of him.
Lucky for him, the door wasn't wood. He reached into his jacket pocket and pressed the button on his sonic as her lips crashed onto his again.
She pulled away, looking around in earnest. “Did you hear that?”
He shook his head almost comically and she shrugged. He decided to distract her by grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards him. Threading his hands into her golden blonde hair, he leaned down and kissed her neck. She moaned exquisitely. He would give anything to hear her make that sound again. He enjoyed taking a moment to taste and explore her her lips, neck, and ear. He quickly decided that jacket of hers had to go and he yanked at the zip roughly. With her help, it was on the floor in seconds. Underneath the jacket was a plain long-sleeved dark pink shirt that hugged her curves and accentuated her breasts perfectly.
Pink and yellow.
He was wondering where the thought had come from, when she cupped him through his trousers. He couldn't help but press his straining erection into her palm, almost hissing at the feel of her rubbing his cock through the layers of fabric. He needed more.
“Fuck,” he said exhaling, as he grabbed her face and swallowed his next words with a kiss. Things were beginning to get more heated and suddenly her hands were everywhere. Currently, they were pushing his jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor. Then they were under his jumper, digging her small fingers into the skin of his hips as she pulled him closer, pressing his erection right into her belly. His hips bucked involuntarily and the Doctor kissed her harder, only putting space between them so he could get to the zip of her own trousers. He tore his mouth from her as he fumbled with the button. Really? A fucking button? Stupid human clothing design. Nevermind that he had a few on his own trousers. He finally managed to get it open and shoved the dumb things down.
The woman made short work of shimming out of them the rest of the way, divesting herself of her shoes as well. It was amazing how someone could drive all rational thought from his mind almost immediately. But as much as he wanted to think about what a bad idea this was, what he wanted more than anything in the universe was to be buried to the hilt inside of her.
He pushed her into the wall roughly, but she didn't seem to mind too much because her eyes were black with want. With one hand on his own zip, he slowly pulled it down, reaching inside to free himself as he stared at her. The woman looked down at his hard cock and licked her lips.
It was on.
In a rush he was on her, wrapping one of her legs around his waist, and then the other. He lifted her up and carried her over to the vanity, setting her down on it gently. With quick fingers he pushed her knickers aside so he could thrust into her. She was so wet. Oh gods she was so wet, he almost came right then and there. The Doctor wanted to pause a moment to let her inner walls adjust and allow himself to calm just a little, but she wiggled and instead he threw his head back and moaned loudly as his fingers dug into her tight arse. Somehow during all that she had managed to rid herself of her shirt and his mouth descended onto the black lace of her bra. He swore loudly because he couldn't taste her skin. Hearing his displeasure, she very deftly took it off as he began to fuck her there on the counter. She was so tight and wet, the Doctor couldn't help himself. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast. So he did. He was like a starving teenager almost and he knew she didn't mind from the obvious sounds she was making. He just couldn't get enough of her and if he wasn't completely crazy, she couldn't get enough of him either.
He grunted as he pounded into her harder, knowing that she was close and wanting to take her over that edge hard. He wanted to make her scream his name.
But she didn't know his name.
The Doctor decided to not let that fact bother him too much as his mouth wandered over as much of her body as he could reach. He loved the feel of her nipples in his mouth. They were so soft and tasted almost sweet.
Maybe later he could take her somewhere more private and spend some more time on them.
He took a moment to gaze at this woman who made him want to do more impossibly dirty things to her and noticed she was truly beautiful. Her eyes were open and lust filled and she was watching him as he thrust in and out of her. He realized then, that she was truly enjoying herself. She was really enjoying fucking him. And in that moment when he realized that she only saw him and no one else, he let go and came, spilling his seed inside of her. She followed, biting his shoulder to keep herself from screaming too loudly.
When they had both come down, he grabbed her by the chin and kissed her slowly. It was something he hadn't done earlier, because they were both in such a rush and now he was glad he decided to take the time. Kissing her was something he was quickly realizing he enjoyed immensely, among other things.
When the woman had to pull away to take a breath, he noticed her cheeks were pink from blushing. Blushing and fucking. It made him smile.
“Pink and yellow,” he murmured quietly. “And oh, so human.” He leaned in to kiss her softly again, but froze when she didn't reciprocate. He pulled back to look at her.
“What did you say?” she asked, searching his eyes. He could swear she was scared of what his answer was going to be.
“It was nothing. I was just noticing your blush... and with your hair... you're all pink and yellow. That's all.”
“And oh so human. Who says that?” She demanded, pushing him off of her so she could grab at her clothes. “It's not funny. Did someone put you up to this? Which I don't know how they could because I'm not even in the right universe for one thing...Mickey can't fucking leave well enough alone for one goddamn minute!”
“What are you talking about?” he half shouted, as she began to pace circles in the loo as she ranted.
“No, everyone seems to think the only reason I want to get back to the Doctor is because I'm in love with him! Nevermind that the multiverse is in fucking danger. God! I should have known! I bet he made sure I was stuck here for six hours, just so you would shag me so I would be nicer to the team.” She spun around to him, the look on her face was one of horror. “Oh god, is that what he did? Did he pay you to “accidentally” meet me and shag me?”
“Would you just shut up for a minute!” He actually shouted this time, and the woman stopped mid clasp of her bra, staring at him. “How do you know my name?”
The woman shook her head, shrugging her shoulders as well. “What do you mean how do I know your name? I don't know your name. You never told me.”
“But you just said it.”
The woman finished clasping her bra and shoved her shirt back on herself. “What did I say then?” The woman asked in a huff.
He pointed at her, starting to get a bit freaked out himself. “You said The Doctor.”
“So, you're a Doctor? Congratulations. Lots of blokes are.”
“No, you said The Doctor. That's me,” the Doctor said pointing at himself with both hands.
The woman dropped the shoes she had just leaned over to pick up. Her jaw dropped and her hand flew to her mouth, covering the strangled cry that burst out of her. When she composed herself, he realized she was angry. “That's not funny. That is seriously not fucking funny. Joke's over mate.” She bent over to grab her shoes, pushed past him to get to the door and discovered she couldn't unlock it.
“Let me out,” she begged without looking back at him. The Doctor finished straightening himself and picked up his black jacket off the floor. He reached into the pocket for his sonic, taking it out. The familiar whirr sounded in the woman's ears as the Doctor unlocked the door and in a breath she spun around to look at him.
He noticed her mascara had begun to run from her crying as she looked from the sonic to him.
“You don't know who I am,” she said flatly.
The Doctor looked at her sadly. “No, I'm sorry. This regeneration has gone a bit wrong. My memory is a bit muddy.”
“Name your companions. All of them,” she blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut like she was making a big wish.
“Why?”
“Just do it,” she begged.
“Susan, Ian, Barbara, Vicki, Steven, Sara, Polly, Ben, Jamie, Victoria, Zoe, Liz, Jo, Sarah- Jane, Harry, Leela, Romana, Adric, Tegan, Nyssa, Peri, Melanie, Ace, Grace, Lucie, Charly, Rose, Martha, Donna, Wilf, Amy...”
“Stop,” she told him quietly. “You can stop.”
“But I haven't finished. There's still two left.”
“It doesn't matter,” she said turning away from him and back towards the door.
“Please... do I know you?” This time he was the one begging.
She rested her head on the door, and sighed. “It's probably better that you don't.”
And with that she walked out, leaving him there alone.
It only took him ten seconds to realize that he should run after her. He had never run so hard in this body. And he could feel it. It fucking hurt. He didn't find her in the pub, or out in the streets. But he felt the intense desire to keep looking. To keep trying. Like he wasn't allowed to give up.
At some point, he circled back around to the pub and decided that maybe she didn't want to be found. What was it that she had said about 6 hours?
He walked up to the bar and ordered another scotch. The barkeep poured him two fingers and slid the glass down the bar towards him. The Doctor stopped the glass before it knocked over one of the little vases of roses.
Roses.
Rose.
“Rose Tyler!” The Doctor shouted, lifting his arms up to the ceiling and looking upwards. He realized afterward that people were beginning to stare. “Oh take a picture, it lasts longer,” he sneered at them as he threw down some money for the drink.
The Doctor left the pub and jogged as fast as he could (because all out running was out of the question at this point) back to the TARDIS. When he got closer, he realized she was there, staring at his ship.
“Rose!”
She spun around at the sound of her name.
The Doctor stopped in front of her. He bent over, panting, clutching at his back. “Well, that makes things easier at least. I was going to do a search with the TARDIS, but seems like she already found you.” The Doctor stood up straight and looked at her. He could tell she had been crying for quite some time. Probably since she had left the bathroom. “I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't forget you.”
“But you did,” she said, her voice cracking. “I came all this way... and you forgot me.”
The Doctor took a step closer to her, and placed a hand gently on her cheek. “But I remembered. That's what's important, isn't it? I will always remember you, Rose Marion Tyler.”
She looked at him incredulously. “You remembered my name; that's not remembering me.”
“I feel drawn to you. Like I want to fall into your orbit and get sucked in, never to come out again. Your smile makes me feel younger than my years. When I held your hand it was like two pieces from the same puzzle fitting together perfectly. The electricity I felt from touching you was almost like a drug, I didn't want to stop. And when we were...well, you know...it felt like I was finally getting to do something I had wanted to do for a very, very long time. What I am trying to say is, from the second I laid eyes on you... I knew I wanted to hold you and never let go.”
“But I thought you didn't like hugging.”
“Shut up. I'm confessing my love for you here.”
“You're what?”
“Just go with it, okay? I remembered you Rose- in my bones. I might not remember how we met, or how long you traveled with me, but the person that I am... the man that stays the same despite regeneration, despite funky eyebrows, and wrinkles, and magician's clothes... That man- that man remembered you. Because he loves you. I love you.” The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. “It's the only explanation. Even when I can't remember anything else, I remembered that I loved you. And I don't know why, but it feels so good to say it out loud to you like this. Like I meant to, but never got the chance.”
Rose covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she heard the words she had longed to hear for so long spoken by this Doctor. He might not remember anything, but somehow he remembered how he felt about her. The Doctor reached out with one hand and pulled her to him. With the other, he took her hand that was covering her mouth and moved it away so he could kiss her softly. Rose melted into the kiss and felt true happiness for the first time in a very, very long time.
When they broke apart, he looked at her with a smile, “Well, it looks like you still have a few hours before you have to be on your way. How about a cup of tea?”
“Sounds wonderful,” Rose agreed, blushing a little from the kiss.
The Doctor snapped his fingers, opening the TARDIS doors.
“After you, Rose Tyler.”