calufrax

Story: Visiting Alien
Author: Entilzha
Rated: Says All Ages on the site, but I’d say Adult
Word count: 11980
Author’s summary: 20 years after Doomsday and Rose has a life of her own. Then a familiar noise fills the park.
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler
Warnings: None

Reason for Recommendation: Yes, this is a post-Doomsday Doctor/Rose reunion fic (AU from the end of S2), but - like my recommendation of The Devil You Know a few days ago - it’s no ordinary reunion fic. For one thing, Rose is twenty years older, and many more years wiser (she even has a PhD, in psychology). She’s competent, capable, doing a very efficient job for Torchwood, and the last thing she expects, or almost even wants, is her ex-lover, the Doctor, to turn up out of the blue looking for her. She’s certainly not the Rose Tyler the Doctor was expecting, and even though she’s perfectly happy to shag him she’s equally prepared to be brutally honest about his fear of commitment. Entilzha, as a psychologist herself, handles this aspect of the story very well indeed: while the Doctor’s character flaws are exposed, there’s no character assassination; it’s clear that both Rose and Entilzha love the Doctor. There’s also humour, and of course the smut’s not half bad!

A little excerpt:

“Tridantium freighter. Long way from home,” he muses.

“Any reason for me to worry?” She settles down on the settee.

“Nah. They’ve jettisoned their cargo. Probably had engine trouble and dumped it. Always were unreliable ships.”

“Anything we can salvage?”

“Souvenirs? Nothing of use to you, I shouldn’t imagine. Go down and take a look by all means, but beyond the first mate’s stash of alcohol and some alien pornography I doubt you’d find anything exciting.”

She nods. “I’ll get them to scale down the operation, then. No point wasting resources.” She motions to the computer. “Feel free to take a look at the rest of it. You could save me a lot of time.”

He turns back and quickly scans through all the reports on her computer, noting those that might be of interest. To her relief, nothing comes back as threatening although a part of her wishes one would. It might be a reason for him to stay a little longer. Finally he turns back.

“You haven’t asked.”

“What, why you’re here? How? When you’re going to disappear again? I thought you might fill me in on that when you were ready.”

He eyes her over his mug. “You’ve changed.”

“Twenty years will do that to a person.” There’s no bitterness in her comment, merely a statement of fact. “The old me’s still here, underneath. Still miss you, still like to shag you senseless given half a chance.”