kalleah | The Calm Before the Storm (Chapter Fifteen)

Definitely longer than the last chapter and admittedly low on plot movement, but again, I think we need some illustration of the good times that Rose and the Doctor share, rather than just glossing over them.

Previous chapters:
( Chapter One )
( Chapter Two )
( Chapter Three )
( Chapter Four )

Jacob had understated the "good distance" to the ruin, Rose thought after a good hour or more of walking briskly through the forest. She would have used the word "hiking" to describe their activity, but walking hand in hand with the Doctor, clad in his usual long coat and Chuck Taylors, seemed too lovely an activity to saddle with an outdoorsy connotation. Rose couldn't stop smiling, feeling the warmth of the sun filtering absently down through the tall pines onto her head and shoulders and the strong grip of the Doctor's hand in hers. She occasionally broke into a skip, tugging him along with her, laughing and jubilant. His hair bobbed up and down as they moved in unison. When had he last been so unabashedly open and joyful with her, she wondered. His delight at showing her the world was strangely childlike, for all his centuries of experience. He would present her with a new sight, a new taste or experience, and watch her face for her reaction, his eyes bright with expectation. She loved showing him her own wonder at his offering, seeing her own astonishment mirrored in him. Hers for the novelty itself; his for, she thought, her reaction.

The green forest around them radiated life and palpable energy. Rose stopped counting animals, including innumerable birds, a few squirrels, a rabbit, and one, hauntingly lovely mottled doe who looked straight at Rose before turning tail and leaping off into the trees. The metronomic crunch, crunch, crunch of their shoes on the leaf litter below provided a low undertone to the harmony of the bright trills of birdsong and the chatter of insects.

"How much further?" Rose asked.

"Not more than, oh," the Doctor squinted into the distance and then up at the steadily rising sun, "another few minutes, if we keep up this pace. In a hurry?"

"Nope," she replied. "Just thinking about sitting down, is all."

"Not too long, then."

They continued walking, hands clasped. Rose let her mind wander freely, thinking about all that had transpired between the Doctor and her and Jacob's unforeseen blessing of their new couplehood.

"Penny for your thoughts," interrupted the Doctor. Rose murmured something indistinct and tried to shrug it off. "Oh no," he said, eyes wide in mockery at her. "Don't shut me out, remember?"

"That's you," she said, caught squarely in her own trap.

"Fair's fair," he deadpanned, not batting an eyelash. "You made me talk, remember?"

"I was thinking about Jacob, if you want to know."

This, for whatever reason, did seem to surprise the Doctor. "Our chicken-tending friend?"

"Yeah. He said," she stopped, and flushed, glanced over at him, still watching her with one eyebrow carefully raised and amusement lighting his face. "He figured it out."

"It?"

"Us," she said, suddenly self-conscious.

"Ah," he pronounced, drawing out the word in all apparent seriousness, except that she knew very well that he wasn't in the slightest bit serious. "And that troubles you, does it?"

"Sort of, yeah," she mumbled.

The Doctor's hand tightened in hers and he swung their joined hands in an arc between them. "It's the religious guilt thing, isn't it?" He sighed. "He's a monk, not heartless. I told you when we first talked about him that he's one of the least judgmental humans I've ever met. Really, least judgmental person of any species. Didn't you believe me?"

Rose shrugged again. "I guess I thought ... well, with him being a monk and all, that he might not appreciate," oh, I am not having this conversation! "Might not approve of, well, sex."

The Doctor's mouth tightened and Rose thought for a fleeting moment that he might be angry, but then she looked in his eyes and realized he was holding back laughter. His mouth worked with effort. "Just because he's celibate," he started, then gave up and dissolved into peals of laughter. Rose smacked him in the stomach, a little harder than she meant to, and he stopped laughing with an "ooof!" and a wounded look at her. "No need to get violent." Rose muttered something about violence under her breath and he swept her into a quick, tight hug. "Sorry for teasing, really. I just was surprised you'd get a complex about Jacob, that's all."

"I don't have a complex."

"Mmm," he said, doubtfully. "Sounded like a complex to me. Sex, religion, guilt, oh my. Next thing you know we'll start talking about your mother." A horrified look crossed his face as soon as the words left his mouth. "Wait, I really, and I mean, really really really, didn't mean to bring her up."

Rose pulled away and began walking again. "Sounds like a mother complex," she giggled. "Want to ask her for her blessing?" Thunderstruck, the Doctor couldn't even form words for a rebuttal. "I think we can move on past the guilt issues, yeah?"

"Yeah," agreed the Doctor, much chastened.

With impeccable timing ("Time Lord," thought Rose with a smirk), they arrived at the ruin. The trees opened up abruptly and they stood overlooking a low valley, covered with grass and dark, irregularly spaced and shaped lines. In parts, the lines swept upward into crumbling walls or pillars, separating the space out into what must have once been rooms. Rose tilted her head and tried to make sense of what she saw. The Doctor, seeing her interest, jumped in to explain.

"It's the original monastery," he said. "They abandoned it about three hundred years ago for the newer site."

Rose glanced over at him. "But the buildings aren't that old."

"No, they've mostly been repaired and rebuilt, getting updated piecemeal as the years went by. A bad fire, a rickety building, and it makes sense to put up a new one on top of the old foundation. Here, they just moved the whole monastery." He pointed at one end of the valley. "That was the original church. See the large open space that would have been in between those two walls?" Rose nodded. "And there, that's the old library. Lots of narrow hallways between rooms filled with books." Another gesture. "Sleeping quarters, mostly communal, and then the outbuilding that was kitchen and dining hall. They kept that separate and at a distance from the other buildings in case of fire, same as today."

"That's why the library's on the other end of the valley? In case of fire?"

"Point to you, Rose! Yes, the books would have been the most precious possessions -- well, still are! Want to take a closer look?" Rose nodded and they started down the hill toward the buildings. As they approached, she saw the lines that had appear to be so slight gain size and breadth and morph into true walls, some taller than the Doctor.

She reached out one hand and touched a line of ancient brick, crumbling and rough under her fingers. Lichen and moss grew abundantly in the shade, adding a velvet texture to the brick background. Plants of every description erupted from broken and shifted stone floor. A pine tree, shorter than its forest brethren but still graceful and tall, leaned away from a stairway leading eight or nine steps into the air and then dissolving into piles of brick and stone. The Doctor seated himself on the second step and began rummaging in his pockets. He pulled out one, then a second, wrapped packet and offered one to Rose. She joined him on the step and felt the chill of the stone beneath her radiating into her backside. She scooted closer to the Doctor and took the packet from him. He placed his in his lap and then produced two amber bottles from his pockets. He fiddled with the sonic screwdriver for a moment and the bottle cap popped off with a hiss of carbonation. He handed it to her and repeated the process on the other bottle.

"Beer?" said Rose, incredulously. "What else do you have in those pockets?"

"Supplies," he said, ambiguously. "Another monastery makes fantastic lager, and they trade with this group. I know a monk who knows a monk who got me a couple of bottles."

"Jacob?"

"Tomas, actually," he said with a grin. "Jacob wouldn't approve." She gave him an exasperated look (what complex?) and he relented. "I'm joking, Rose. Jacob likes his brew. He just didn't give these to me."

Rose took a drink and decided it was quite nice, sharp and refreshing after a long walk. She set the bottle down next to her foot and unwrapped the packet, finding a brown bread and cucumber sandwich with some sort of herb spread, an apple, and a hard-boiled egg. She began peeling the shell off her egg.

"Nice picnic?" he asked, between mouthfuls of sandwich.

"Quite," she said, happily. They ate in companionable silence for a time, hungry again after their morning exercise. All I have done here, thought Rose, is talk, eat, and sleep. She blushed. Well, most of what I've done here.

The Doctor, predictably, caught her blushing but didn't call her on it this time. When she finished, he took her eggshell, crumbled it into small bits, and piled them neatly on a nearby part of the wall with the shell bits from his egg. "Shouldn't we clean up?" she asked.

"Everything else, yes. The eggshells stay. Birds will eat them."

"Birds eat eggshells?" said Rose in some confusion.

"Absolutely. Great source of calcium. Female birds need a lot of calcium to produce eggshells, and what better source?"

After their meal, he tucked his apple into a coat pocket, secreting it away like a squirrel with a nut. Rose considered her erratic mealtimes over the last day and handed him her apple for later, which also disappeared easily into another of those seemingly bottomless pockets.

"Where do you keep all that stuff?" she asked, breaking down after he had carefully shaken out the last drops of beer from his bottle and addied that to a pocket for, presumably, later recycling.

"Bigger on the inside," he winked.

"Oh, you're kidding me," she groaned.

"Want to take a look?" He opened his coat suggestively, like a flasher.

"You're a nutter."

"But never boring," he said smugly. She rolled her eyes and finished her beer, handing him the bottle without comment and watching as it, too, disappeared into a pocket. "So," he said, putting emphasis on the word, "do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Want a look?" He leaned down and caught her open mouth in a kiss. He tasted of lager, not unpleasantly.

Rose pulled back slightly, still so close that she couldn't focus on his face, and said, questioningly, "Here? Outside?"

The Doctor's nose gently rubbed against her cheek and his words were a light breath on her skin. "It's just us, Rose. If you're not comfortable, that's all right."

"I'm not," she said, a little shyly, "but I think maybe I could get over it."