Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4668023.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Gen
  Fandom:
      Doctor_Who_(2005)
  Relationship:
      Tenth_Doctor/Rose_Tyler/Rose_Tyler
  Character:
      Tenth_Doctor, Rose_Tyler
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-27 Words: 5872
****** What If Chapter 13, the hot one! ******
by SciFiFanForever
Summary
     I think you can guess.
                                  Chapter_13
 
 
 
Rose stood in front of the door to the Doctor’s room, and realised that she had
never actually seen inside his room before. Well, why would she? It was always
his personal space, his inner sanctum, somewhere where he could go when he
needed to be on his own. (Which was quite a lot when she’d first met him.)
 
She had been past the door many times, and always thought that it looked like
it should be in a Robin Hood film. It was arched, and apparently made of dark
oak, complete with black studs and a wrought iron ring as a handle. When the
Doctor turned the ring and pushed the door open, she expected a Hollywood style
creak of hinges.
 
The door swung open silently, and he led her inside by the hand. In his other
hand, he had two Champagne flutes, and an ice bucket with a bottle of Bollinger
under his arm which he had collected from the kitchen on the way past. She
hesitantly, but not reluctantly followed him inside. She realised that this was
a big step for them; not that getting married wasn’t a big step in itself.
 
His room was how she would expect the room of a hero prince in a fairytale to
look. It was all royal blues and purples with gold trim, and dark wood
wardrobes, dressers and a desk. There was a sofa, and wooden chairs, all
upholstered in the same lush material. Oh, and a fabulous four poster bed that
they were now heading towards.
 
He put the glasses on the bedside table and the bucket on the floor, before
turning to his wife and guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress
gave a little as she sat on it, but it seemed neither firm nor soft. It just
seemed to support her weight perfectly. Without speaking, he popped the cork
and poured two glasses of Champagne.
 
He sat beside her and handed her the glass, before wrapping his arm around
hers, and they sipped their wine together. He then took the glass off her and
put them on the table again.
 
‘Well then,’ she started, awkwardly. ‘Here we are then.’
 
‘Er, yes. Here we are,’ he repeated, just as awkwardly.
 
“This is crazy!” Rose thought. It wasn’t as if they were virgins. The Doctor
had let slip once that he had been a father, and Rose had slept with Jimmy and
Mickey. So why did she feel like a teenager on her first date?
 
‘We could . . .’ ‘Shall I . . .’ they said together, and burst out laughing.
 
‘Ladies first,’ he said gallantly.
 
‘Well . . . I was thinkin’, y’know, first things first an’ all that,’ she said,
slightly embarrassed and reaching for the laces on her bodice. ‘I’d best take
this off.’
 
He stayed her hands. ‘Ah, ah, Mistress Rose. I think you will find that it’s my
privilege to do that,’ and then thought he was being a bit presumptuous. ‘I
mean, if that’s all right with you?’
 
She looked surprised, and then excited. ‘Ooh, yeah. Go on then.’
 
He stood in front of her and slowly unlaced the bodice. That done, he started
to undo the pearl buttons on the high necked lace collar, working his way down
the neckline to her cleavage, and then down the silk bodice to her waist. He
eased the dress off her left shoulder and kissed it. He then did the same for
her right shoulder, and took her arms out of the sleeves.
 
Rose had to admit that she had never had her clothes taken off her so slowly,
so carefully, and oh SO sensually. It was incredibly erotic. The Doctor took
her hands and gently pulled her to her feet, where the dress slipped down her
body to the floor. She stepped out of the dress, and he could see what item of
clothing she was wearing that was blue.
 
He started to become more confident as Rose seemed to relax and become more
responsive. He undid the suspenders from her basque to her stocking tops, and
sat her back down on the bed. He climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind her to
start loosening the laces on her basque. He leaned forward as he did so and
kissed the side of her neck and nibbled her ear. A gentle moan escaped her
lips.
 
Once he had loosened the basque, he gently caressed her arms and lifted them
above her head, allowing him to slip the basque over her head. “Wow! Rose Tyler
is topless on my bed!” he thought to himself. He admired the shapely form of
her naked back as he ran his hands down her sides to her waist She shivered and
arched her back, as his hands swept forwards to her navel, and then curved
upwards to find her breasts.
 
Her nipples were erect and waiting for his attentions. And he attended to them
as he kissed his way across her shoulders, and gently fondled those feminine
orbs. He guided her down to lie on the bed, and rolled her onto her back, where
he kneeled at her feet and loosened the laces on her boots, slipping them off
and dropping them on the floor.
 
The tension they had felt when they had started had fizzled away, and they were
warming to the task ahead. He leaned forward and slid down the borrowed leather
garter before kissing her left thigh at the top of her stocking. He rolled it
down and kissed her exposed knee, continuing down to her foot and kissing that
too. He then started on the right leg, and Rose groaned in frustrated pleasure.
 
‘I think you’d better get a move on,’ she breathed. ‘I feel like a bottle of
Champagne that’s been shook up. I’m ready to pop my cork.’
 
He kissed her knee. ‘Patients my love. I’m going to pop your cork like it's
never been popped before.’
 
‘Ooooooohh.’ She writhed on the bed, gripping the duvet to try and control
herself. It was exquisite torture. All that was left to go now was something
blue. He leaned over her and kissed her Adam’s apple, and her collar bones. He
kissed and nibbled each nipple, her writhing became more intense. He kissed his
way down her abdomen to her navel, before sitting back on his heels.
 
He leaned forwards once more and kissed her above her panty line, as his hands
went either side of her hips and eased her knickers past her thighs, He slid
them down to her ankles, where he took out her right foot and kissed the inside
of her ankle. He took out her left foot and kissed that ankle, before bending
her knees so that her heels were by her buttocks. All he had to do now was ease
her knees apart and his goal would be in sight.
 
As her knees fell apart, he kissed his way down the valley of her thighs until
he reached the lips that waited for him. He could hear Rose panting and gasping
as his tongue licked and poked its way inside, gently stimulating her sensitive
spot. He then proceeded to kiss his way back up her body, and when he reached
her Adam’s apple again, his erect organ of loving eased its way inside her.
 
Rose moaned and mewed with pleasure, as she wrapped her heels around the back
of his thighs and ran her fingers through his messy hair. She pulled him into a
fierce kiss, which he returned with equal ferocity. Their bodies started to
move in a synchronised rhythm, and her pelvic muscles started to massage him
deeper inside.
 
She pulled her heels in tighter until there pubic bones met and he could get no
further inside her. They were panting, grunting, and gasping as they felt the
wave of ecstasy approaching. She was an ocean wave that had travelled so far
across the open ocean, and was now starting to rear up, ready to crash on the
shore.
 
He was a surfer, paddling his board and starting to pick up speed as the wave
approached. Rose’s wave of ecstasy started to crest, and she could feel the
surfer stand up ready to ride her wave. The Doctor stood on the board in
triumph, balancing in the torrent of surging pleasure.
 
And then, the wave broke over them. Their bodies shuddered as the orgasmic wave
rolled down to their toes, and then rebounded back to their lips which were
locked together. The wave was a tsunami, and it carried on, beyond the bounds
of the beach that was their bodies.
 
They yelped, squealed and groaned as the wave receded, but their bodies
continued to oscillate to the rhythm of their love, and Rose’s pelvic muscles
continued to throb, gently caressing the part of him that was inside her.
 
For a long time they just lay there, unspeaking, their breathing and heart
rates returning to some semblance of normality. The Doctor had his head resting
beside hers, his chin on her collarbone, his lips gently kissing her neck. Rose
had her arms wrapped around his chest, hugging him as though she wanted him to
stay there forever.
 
‘Phew!’ she breathed, finally managing to get her brain working again.
 
‘Phew indeed,’ he said, pushing himself up on his arms and arching his back. ‘I
had heard about the human female orgasm, but I thought it was an exaggeration.’
 
‘Heard about it?’
 
‘Yeah, it’s famous in this part of the galaxy, in a tabloid, sensational gossip
magazine sort of way.’
 
Rose looked quite pleased with herself. ‘Oh, right. I’m famous,’ she giggled.
 
He rolled off her and reached the glasses of Champagne, handing one to Rose,
and supporting his head on his hand as he sipped his drink and looked at his
radiant wife. Rose sipped her drink, and realised she could feel something
against the inside of her thigh.
 
‘Hang on, have you taken Viagra or somethin’, ‘cos I can still feel an
erection?’ She reached down to investigate, and looked down to see his one eyed
trouser snake winking at her.
 
He waggled his eyebrows. ‘Superior Gallifreyan biology. I can keep it up for as
long as you like.’
 
Rose’s mouth fell open and her eyes went wide, ‘You are kiddin’ me!’ She took
his glass off him and put them both on the table, before rolling him onto his
back. ‘We are going to take this tradition to the max.’ She straddled him and
started to lower herself on to him.
 
‘Careful, you might be a bit dry,’ he warned her.
 
‘Oh yeah, good point,’ she conceded.
 
She looked to the bedside table and a mischievous grin spread across her face.
She took a mouthful of Champagne, and held it in her mouth, as she shuffled
down his legs. He gave a squeak of pleasure as she applied the unusual
lubricant with her mouth, and then took her turn to observe this wedding night
tradition.
 
It was late morning in the TARDIS when the newlywed couple started to stir.
They had fallen into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of the morning,
after a marathon session of lovemaking. They had certainly made up for the
years of lost time. Rose lay by the Doctor’s right side under the duvet, with
her right leg across his thighs. She awoke with the memory of a really erotic
dream which started with them getting married, and ended with . . . well, lets
just say it was pretty bloody amazing.
 
Confusingly, she felt an arm around her shoulders, and felt a warm body against
hers. Was it a time travelling thing, and she was back in Mickey’s flat, the
last few years having been a dream? When she opened her eyes and saw the
smiling face of the Doctor, the confusion evaporated and she knew her dream had
come true.
 
‘Morning,’ he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.
 
‘Mornin’,’ she yawned. She snuggled up to him and started gently tracing
circles around his left nipple.
 
They lay there cuddling for a long while, basking in their love for each other,
and wondering why the hell they hadn’t done this earlier. Rose heard his
stomach gurgle, and realised that it was time to have some breakfast.
 
‘Fancy a fry up?’ she asked him.
 
‘Ooh, that’s a good idea. I’ll do it,’ he said.
 
She put her hand on his chest. ‘No you won’t! You stay here and conserve your
strength, stud,’ she told him as she climbed out of the bed.
 
‘Stud?’ He sniffed and smiled. ‘Stud . . . right.’ Rose laughed as she crossed
to the door, and he admired her wiggling bum as it left the room.
 
Rose brought the bacon and egg fry ups on floating trays, with mugs of tea as
well. She climbed under the duvet and kissed his cheek, before tucking in to
her breakfast. She looked down at her wedding ring, and remembered that she had
a question for him.
 
‘I meant to ask you . . . the symbol on our rings, its Gallifreyan isn’t it?’
 
‘Mmm,’ he said as he swallowed a mouthful. ‘It’s the character for eternity.
It’s forever.’
 
‘Oh God, that’s beautiful.’ She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and kissed his
cheek again.
 
‘Now, there is another Earth tradition connected to marriage, and that’s the
honeymoon,’ she said with a smile.
 
‘Sorted,’ he told her. ‘I thought, start close to home with the Syrtis Major
Pleasure dome on Mars in 2112.’ He took a sip of his tea. ‘Then the leisure
planets of the 23rd century. The Leisure Hive of Argolis in the Mutter’s
Spiral, and Limnos 4, Abydos, and Fiesta 95 in the Rim Worlds. How does that
sound?’
 
‘Sounds wonderful. What are they like these leisure planets?’
 
‘They’re state-of-the-art in contemporary entertainments and methods of
relaxation. They offer a wide variety of different possibilities, such as
health spa’s, anti-gravity restaurants, zero-gravity swimming pools, sleep-
reading stations, and accelerated learning experiences. Ooh, and the zero-
gravity volleyball is hilarious.’
 
‘I can’t wait.’
 
‘Well, eat up, put some clothes on and we’ll be on our way.’
 
‘Oh, well. I can wait a little bit. I mean, we are in bed, and we are naked,’
she said, floating the tray off her lap and reaching beneath the duvet.
 
‘Mistress Rose! I doth believe thou art a little minx.’
 
‘And I doth think thou might be right,’ she said, disappearing under the duvet.
 
 
                       +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
 
 
‘Zero-gravity volleyball,’ Rose laughed as they walked up the ramp towards the
console. ‘’Who’s idea was that, ‘cos it’s brilliant.’ She dropped her holdall
on the floor grating under the console.
 
‘It was some entrepreneur on Abydos, and we have got to try it again sometime,’
he told her, throwing his long coat over the coral strut. The game was played
in a spherical, padded room, with a circular net running around the diameter. A
team in each hemisphere had to hit a ball through the hole in the middle and
get it to hit the wall opposite to score a point.
 
‘Definitely. So what’s been goin’ on in the universe while we’ve been away?’
 
‘So, the honeymoon’s over then. Back to the day job of exploring and
adventuring.’
 
She came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘Everyday with
you is a honeymoon.’
 
He turned his head, and she kissed his lips. ‘Ah. Rose Tyler. You say the
nicest things.
 
‘Oi! I’m Mrs. Lungbarrowmas now,’ she reminded him.
 
He waggled his eyebrows with a mischievous grin and checked the monitor. 'What
about a ‘Scooby-Doo’ style mystery?' he asked her.
'Yeah, go on then; do I get to peel the mask off the bad guy at the end?' she
said with a laugh.
'I’d have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for you pesky kids,' he replied,
laughing with her. 'Well, this has got all the ingredients, a big, old, empty
house, and people disappearing.'
'Sounds perfect.'
'And something Scooby doesn’t have; temporal disturbances.' He threw the
switch, slammed the lever, and the TARDIS wheezed across the Vortex. 'Allonz-
y.'
'So, where are we then,' Rose asked as she felt the TARDIS land with a gentle
bump.
He did his "Vincent Price" voice. 'Wester Drumlin,' he said, shutting down the
console.
'Ooh, it even sounds like somethin’ out of Scooby-Doo,' she said.
 
He grabbed his long coat and pulled it on, then took her hand and led her down
the ramp. ‘Come on then Velma, let’s go take a look.’
 
‘Velma? I’ll have you know I’m the beautiful Daphne,’ she said, tugging down
her T-shirt, and smoothing her leather skirt. ‘Shaggy,’ she finished.
 
He pulled up by the doors. ‘Shaggy?’ he asked her, and then thought about it.
He gave her his boyish grin. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’
 
He opened the door, and they stepped out. While he turned to close the door,
Rose asked a very good question. ‘Why d’ya think they’ve got statues in the
basement? Is it a workshop or somethin’?’
 
He turned around and held her hand in alarm. ‘Those aren’t statues. They’re . .
.’
 
 
                       +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
 
 
'Yup. That's me,' the Doctor said, reading Sally Sparrow’s narrative off the
autocue.
 
'Yes, I do,' he said.
 
'Yup, and this.' He nodded his head to the side.
 
He frowned. 'Are you going to read out the whole thing?
 
'I'm a time traveller. Or I was. I'm stuck in 1969.'
 
"Hang on", Rose thought, this isn’t all about him. She moved from behind the
camera and into view of the lens. 'We're stuck. For better, for worse, for
richer, for poorer we promised each other. But I'm the one who’s got a job in a
shop. I've gotta support him!'
 
With her experience of working in Henrick's, Rose had managed to get a job in
the newly opened clothing store Biba, on Kensington High Street. It was the
same boring job, but one perk was that she got to wear some cool, retro 1960's
designer gear. Because of her good looks and "fit" body, the manageress had her
wearing the latest outfits to promote them to the customers.
 
At the moment, she was wearing a rather daring, white; Mary Quant crocheted
mini dress, with white PVC boots. It was a bit distracting when the Doctor was
trying to keep track of the transcript. He pointed at the camera. 'Rose?'
 
'Sorry,' she said sullenly, and moved back behind the camera.
 
'Quite possibly.' He continued his one sided conversation. 'Afraid so . . .
Thirty eight . . . Er, ah, yeah, people don't understand time. It's not what
you think it is,' he said, in response to Sally asking him to explain how he
can be speaking to her from thirty eight years in the past. He had to be
careful, if she knew too much, it might influence her actions.
 
'Complicated . . . Very complicated.'
 
He paused, as he thought about how best to explain time travel. 'People assume
that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-
linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly,
timey-wimey . . . stuff.' That didn’t go well.
 
'It got away from me, yeah . . . Well, I can hear you . . . Well, not hear you,
exactly, but I know everything you're going to say . . . Look to your left,' he
said, nodding his head to his right.
 
He continued reading the transcript, nodding his head in agreement, and then
pointed at the autocue. 'I've got a copy of the finished transcript. It's on my
autocue.'
 
'I told you. I'm a time traveller. I got it in the future,' he said in a matter
of fact voice.
 
'Yeahhh. Wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey.' He waved his hand back and forth in
dismissal.
 
'What matters is, we can communicate,' he said, finger and thumb tip together.
'We have got big problems now. They have taken the blue box, haven't they? The
angels have the phone box . . . Creatures from another world . . . Only when
you see them . . . The lonely assassins, they used to be called. No one quite
knows where they came from, but they're as old as the universe, or very nearly,
and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defence
system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don't exist when they're
being observed. The moment they are seen by any other living creature, they
freeze into rock. No choice. It's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any
living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Of
course, a stone can't kill you either. But then you turn your head away, then
you blink, and oh yes it can.' He hoped that explanation was sufficient to make
them realise how much danger they were in.
 
'That's why they cover their eyes. They're not weeping. They can't risk looking
at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be
seen. The loneliest creatures in the universe. And I'm sorry. I am very, very
sorry. It's up to you now . . . The blue box, it's my time machine. There is a
world of time energy in there they could feast on forever, but the damage they
could do could switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me.'
 
'Aaaand that's it, I'm afraid. There's no more from you on the transcript,
that's the last I've got. I don't know what stopped you talking, but I can
guess. They're coming. The angels are coming for you. But listen, your life
could depend on this. Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead.
They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look
away, and don't blink . . . good luck.'
 
'And cut,' Rose said, stopping the camera. 'Was that everythin’?'
 
'For now, yes, I’ll have to encode some digital information onto the audio
track for the TARDIS, so that she’ll initiate security protocol seven one two
when the recording is taken on board.'
 
'Seven one two?'
 
'Yeah, single journey that will lock onto my Artron energy signature, like a
homing device.'
 
'Clever,' she said with a smile. 'Come on, I’m cookin’ shepherd's pie for tea.'
 
The next evening, after Rose had finished working in the clothing store; and
had changed out of her classic black and white vinyl dress. And after she’d
cooked their tea, and made her husband do the washing up, they set off with the
timey-wimey detector that he’d been working on while she was at work.
 
Detective Inspector Billy Shipton staggered backwards against the wall of the
alleyway and slid down to the ground. He was dizzy and nauseous, and he could
hear a ringing, beeping, dinging in his ears. No, wait a minute, he could
actually hear a beeping and a ding, and it was getting closer.
 
'Welcome,' a "too cheerful for how he was feeling" voice said.
 
'Where am I?' he asked the tall, thin man in the brown coat, who was listening
to a single earpiece plugged into a retro looking radio.
 
'Nineteen sixty nine. Not bad, as it goes. You've got the moon landing to look
forward to,' the spiky haired man said.
 
'Oh, the moon landing's brilliant. We went four times . . . back when we had
transport,' the cute blonde woman said accusingly.
 
'Working on it,' the man said.
 
'How did I get here?' Billy asked him.
 
'The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you
ended up in the same year.'
 
Billy tried to stand. 'No, no. No, no, no, don't get up. Time travel without a
capsule. Nasty. Catch your breath. Don't go swimming for half an hour.' The
tall man climbed through the red guard rails, and sat down beside him.
 
'I don't. I can't,' he mumbled in confusion.
 
'Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels,' the man said, looking up into the night
sky. 'The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no
fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of
your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past,
and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had.
All your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off
potential energy.'
 
Billy screwed his face up. 'What in God's name are you talking about?'
 
The blonde looked down at him and smiled. 'Trust me. Just nod when he stops for
breath. That’s what I do.'
 
He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again, looking up at the blonde
with a frown, before starting to talk again. 'Tracked you down with this.' The
man held up a 1960’s radio, with a recording reel rotating on it. 'This is my
timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff. Also, it can boil an egg
at thirty paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I've learned to
stay away from hens. It's not pretty when they blow.'
 
'I don't understand. Where am I?' Billy asked angrily. He was in shock, only
moments ago he’d been in basement garage of the station.
 
'1969, like he says,' the blonde told him.
 
'Normally, I'd offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need
you to take a message to Sally Sparrow,' the man said.
 
Sally Sparrow, what had she got to do with all this? He’d only asked her for
her phone number. He realised that the man was still talking, his voice now
tinged with sadness.
 
'And I'm sorry, Billy, I am very, very sorry . . . It's going to take you a
while.'
 
'How long?' Billy asked.
 
'We’ll talk about that later maybe,' the man said, starting to stand up.
 
Billy grabbed his arm firmly. 'How long?'
 
The tall, thin man, with spiky hair, gave him such a sad look, which gave him
the answer, even before he spoke. 'A life time.'
 
'Who are you people, how do you know all this?'
 
'I’m Rose,' the blonde said holding her hand out to be shaken. 'And this is my
husband, the Doctor.'
 
'Doctor who?'
 
'Just the Doctor,' Rose said.
 
They helped him to his feet, and made sure the dizziness had passed. 'Come on,
we’ve got a spare room back at our place for you, and then in the morning, we
can discuss the future.'
 
In the morning, Rose made breakfast for them all, and they tried to explain
what was happening to Billy. The Doctor started to brief Billy on what he
needed to know.
 
'I’ve written the things you need to know in this notebook,' the Doctor told
him, taking a small, paperback notebook out of a small holdall. 'Keep it safe,
and try and memorise everything in it.'
 
'What’s in it, does it tell my future?'
 
The Doctor frowned, trying to think of the correct phrase. 'More of a guide to
your future. There are some definite no-no’s, like Sally Sparrow, DO NOT try to
contact her before the allotted time.'
 
'Which is?' Billy asked, raising his eyebrows.
 
The Doctor hesitated, his face sad. 'I’m sorry Billy . . . but it’s the day you
die. If you try and contact her before then, you’ll create a causal feedback
loop paradox, and tear a hole in the fabric of space and time, which will
destroy two thirds of the universe.'
 
'Just nod,' Rose said helpfully.
 
'The same goes for historic events from now until 2007, stay out of them, let
them happen. I take care of anything that needs to be prevented.'
 
'Really,' Billy said sceptically.
 
'Yeah, really. Remember Ten Downing Street being hit by an Exocet? That was
us.'
 
'We were put on terror alert when that happened,' Billy told him.
 
'Sorry about that, had to stop aliens from taking over the Earth. Oh, and the
ghosts turning into robots, fighting the flying pepper pots in the skies around
Canary Wharf . . . hang on, that sounds like a pop group.'
 
'What does?' Rose asked in confusion.
 
'The Flying Pepper pots, you should write that down Billy . . . sorry, where
was I? Oh yes, CanaryWharf; that was us sending them to Hell. Rose did a
brilliant improvised safety line with a pair of trousers.’
 
Rose noticed that Billy was looking confused again. ‘Nod,’ she said helpfully.
 
'Just let things happen as you remember them,' the Doctor told him.
 
'Okay,' Billy said, thumbing through the notebook. 'What about my career, will
I be able to pick up where I left off?'
 
The Doctor shook his head. 'People aren’t as enlightened as they are in the
twenty first century, prejudice is rife I’m afraid,’ he said sadly.
 
'Anyway Billy-Boy, you get into publishing,' the Doctor said, reaching into his
pocket and taking out a roll of notes. 'Take this money, and spend the day
looking for a job. We’ve got some decorating to do, so we’ll see you back here
this evening for the final briefing.'
 
'Hey, that’s my money!' Rose said in protest, she’d worked for days in the
clothing shop to earn that.
 
'And after this evening, we won’t need it,' the Doctor told her.
 
'What, it’s happenin’ tonight?' she asked excitedly.
 
'Yep, yesterday, the owners of Wester Drumlin went away on a luxury holiday
they won in a competition . . . Funny that, I don’t think they even entered a
competition.'
 
'How could you possibly know that?' Rose asked.
 
'Because I thought of it and it happened, which means that when we get the
TARDIS back, I arrange for them to win a holiday competition.'
 
'That’s brilliant!' she exclaimed.
 
'TARDIS?' Billy asked.
 
They both looked at him. 'It’s complicated,' they said together.
 
So, there they were, back at Wester Drumlin with a holdall full of rolls of
wallpaper, a packet of paste, scissors, a scraper, a wooden spoon, some
brushes, and a pack of wax crayons. They stood, looking at the regency
fireplace, with the candelabra light fittings on the wall, and the ripped
corner of paper that the Doctor had taken the day before to get a match.
 
'Right, I’ll start stripping the rest of the paper off, you go and see if you
can find a bucket to mix the paste in,' he said as he dropped the holdall on
the floor, and took out the scraper.
 
The Doctor had made really good progress when she returned, and standing on a
table that he had moved over to the fireplace, he was carefully removing the
uppermost parts of the paper. He took out the packet of crayons, and selected a
black one before approaching the wall.
 
'Here we go then, time to write Sally the message,' he said and he wrote
“BEWARE THE WEEPING ANGEL”.
 
'I’ve been wonderin’, how does this work then, y’know, when does the TARDIS
come back?' Rose asked him.
 
He wrote “OH, ANDDUCK” as he explained. 'When this message is complete, and
we’ve covered it with wallpaper, we go back to Billy and give him the list of
seventeen DVD’s and the reel of film that he will eventually record onto those
DVD’s. When we do that, the circle is complete, Sally and Larry do their bit,
they put the DVD in the TARDIS console, and it appears in front of us as Billy
takes the list and reel off us.' He wrote “NO REALLY, DUCK!”
 
'Wow! How do you do that?' she asked in admiration.
 
'Years of practice,' he said as he finished “SALLY SPARROW DUCK, NOW”. 'Okay,
let’s cut the paper to size.'
 
By the end of the afternoon, Wester Drumlins was back to how it had been before
the owners had left. No one would be any the wiser that a message had been left
on the wall over the fireplace.
 
Billy Shipton walked into the flat and walked over to them, he had a bemused
smile on his face.
 
'How did it go Billy?' Rose asked.
 
'Well, that’s the weird thing,' he said frowning. 'I went to the Job Centre to
register, except it's called the Employment Exchange in this day and age, and
then it hit me, I don’t exist here, no birth certificate, no National Insurance
number, no NHS number, nothing.'
 
'Oh God, I hadn’t thought about that, what happened?'
 
'I gave them my name, the day, and month of my birth, and then hesitated about
the year, I mean, it was . . . or will be 1980, but they found me, born on the
eighth of October, 1942. I have a National Insurance number, and an NHS number,
I mean; tell me, how can that be?'
 
Rose looked at the Doctor, and he waggled his eyebrows with a smile. 'I think
you’ll find you’ve got a bank account as well, with some funds in it to get you
started.'
 
Billy just looked at them, stunned into silence. Rose hugged him and gave him a
kiss on the cheek, before walking over to the Doctor. 'Is there no end to your
talents?'
 
'Not found one yet,' he said with a cheeky grin. The Doctor took a piece of
paper out of his pocket, along with a yellow foil packet. 'This is a list of
seventeen films that you will publish on DVD’s in the future,' he said handing
it over.
 
Billy looked at the list and laughed. 'These are mostly ‘chick flicks’.' And
then he had a realisation. 'These are Sally Sparrows DVD’s, aren’t they, how
can you possibly know this?'
 
'Yes they are, I can't tell you how I know, and you can’t tell her either
Billy. One day she'll work it out for herself,' the Doctor told him quietly.
 
'And now, the final piece of the puzzle.' He held out the yellow foil packet.
'This is a recording that has to be hidden on those seventeen DVD’s, it’s
imperative that it's reproduced perfectly.'
 
Billy took the offered packet, and they heard the sound of time and space being
bent out of shape.
 
'Ah, that’s our ride.' He held his hand out, one last time, and Billy shook it.
'Thank you Billy Shipton, you’ve saved the Earth from destruction by a quantum
locked life form.'
 
Billy looked, open mouthed at the TARDIS as it appeared in the flat. 'It was
yours all along . . . the dummy police box . . . it was yours.'
 
The Doctor patted the wooden exterior with affection. 'Yep, best set of wheels
in the universe.'
 
Rose gave Billy a long, long hug. 'I’m sorry you can’t come with us, but like
he said, we need you to save the universe, and there aren’t many who can say
they’ve done that.'
 
'It’s certainly something to put on my C.V,' he said with a smile.
 
Rose released him from the hug, and the Doctor opened the TARDIS door. She went
inside and the Doctor stood in the doorway, looking at Billy.
 
'Doctor, your notebook says that I’ll meet Sally again . . . on the day that I
die . . .’
 
'Yeah, you have a long and happy life to live before then, so don’t be too
eager, but when you meet her, you’ll have until the rain stops.' Billy nodded
his understanding, and the Doctor nodded back. Without another word, he stepped
inside the TARDIS and closed the door.
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