Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" is the BBC's property. No infringement is intended.
Special thanks to Sonic Jules, who inspired this story and has been a constant source of encouragement.
It might have been the ship's juddering that awoke her, or perhaps it was the excessive warmth of the duvet she'd pulled up at some point during her nap. Either way, Rose opened her eyes to a bumpy, hot ride.
She pushed away the offending cover then waited for the ship to stabilize before sitting up. Her chest felt a little heavy and tight, and she wondered for a moment if the shaking had left her frightened. She remained very warm, and a fine layer of perspiration glazed her brow. Rose shook it off, getting to her feet and slipping on her shoes before heading to the Console Room.
"What's goin' on?" she asked.
The Doctor was half-way inside an open panel below the console. She could see the glow from the sonic screwdriver. His voice was a bit muffled as he replied, "Little problem with the spatial stabilizer. I need to recalibrate it." He backed out of the small space then lifted his head to offer her a grin. "Feel like a couple of days on a resort planet?"
"What's a resort planet got to do with you fixin' the TARDIS?" she asked reasonably.
"Oh, nothing, really, except that I need to land her somewhere stable so that I can do the repairs. It'll take at least a day, so I reckoned you might want to spend it someplace nice."
Rose rubbed a hand absently over her chest. "Does it matter where we go?"
"No—so long as it's someplace without any rifts or menacing creatures."
"How 'bout London, 2005?" she asked.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "I said somewhere without any menacing creatures, Rose."
She took a step forward and poked his arm lightly. "Oi! My mum isn't a menace!"
The Doctor touched his cheek. "Try telling my face that."
Rose sighed rather dramatically. "Think you earned that, anyway," she muttered. Then she gave him her most winning smile. "So, can we go?"
"If that's what you really want, I don't see why not."
She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks, Doctor."
He landed the ship near the playground. Rose was at the door in a moment. The Doctor remained beside the console.
"Aren't you gonna come an' say hello?" she asked.
"Maybe later. I really want to get started on this." He tapped at the open panel. "I'm sure your mum won't mind."
"Probably not," Rose admitted. "Come round for tea?"
"Probably not," the Doctor admitted. "Lots to do here."
"Want me to bring it to you?"
"No thanks. This'll require my undivided attention. So you go off and enjoy your mum, if that's possible, and I'll come get you when I'm finished."
"See you tomorrow," Rose called as she stepped out the door.
"Or the next day," he called back before disappearing beneath the console.
Rose closed the door carefully then leaned against it heavily. In the short amount of time it had taken for the Doctor to bring them to her home, she'd realized that she was coming down with something. She'd had an inkling when she'd given him her request, and she was glad he'd accepted it. Her mum's was the best place to be when she was sick.
Rose was stationed on the sofa with cushions at her back and a blanket wrapped around her legs. The coughing had started only a couple of hours after she'd got to the flat. She'd try to ignore it, chatting with her mum for a while then calling up a couple of girlfriends to catch up on their lives. But as evening came, she'd begun to feel worse.
Jackie had been fussing over her ever since she'd admitted to believing she was coming down with a cold. Rose had consumed at least three cups of tea with plenty of lemon and honey, and now a mug of chicken soup sat on the table before her. She wasn't really hungry, and swallowing made her chest ache more. The warmth did soothe her throat, though, so she had a few spoonfuls, but that was all she could manage.
"How're you feelin', sweetheart?" Jackie asked, bustling back into the room with a plate of biscuits.
"Little better," Rose lied. "Soup's helpin', I think."
Her mum set the plate before her. "Travelin' all over the universe—an' all over time. It's a wonder you don't pick up somethin' every week or two." A deep frown crossed her features. "Have you been anyplace dangerous, anywhere with a plague?"
"A plague?" Rose repeated. "No, Mum, nothin' like that."
"You sure?"
Rose nodded. "Yeah. 'S just a cold—probably got exposed last time I was here."
"But that was three months ago!"
"For you. But when we're in the TARDIS, time's different, so it's only been a few days for me."
Jackie shook her head. "I'll never understand that! An' I'll never understand why you wanna go off an' face all those dangers—"
Rose sighed and closed her eyes. In cases like this, it was best to play the sick card. She allowed a cough to escape her, surprised by its strength and the twinge it brought.
"Sweetheart, you all right?" her mother asked with concern. She rested her hand over Rose's forehead. "You feel warm."
"I've got a cold, Mum. I'm sure I am a little warm. But I'll be fine." She began to reposition herself so that she was lying down. "Think I'll have a kip."
Her mother tucked the blankets around her then left Rose to sleep.
Rose dragged herself from bed the next morning. She'd slept little during the night; her cough had worsened, and it had kept her awake for many hours. Her mum was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
"Mornin' sweetheart," she greeted, glancing up from the pan of eggs. She quickly set the spatula aside. "You look terrible!"
Rose ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "Thanks, Mum, tha's always nice to hear."
"Really, darling, how're you feelin'?" She stepped forward to place a hand against her daughter's cheek. "Oh, you've definitely got a fever."
"'S not so bad," Rose began to reply, but her words were interrupted by a short coughing fit. She sank down into the nearest chair.
"I think I should get the Doctor," Jackie said. "He's gone an' exposed you to some horrible alien illness; I jus' know he has."
Rose shook her head. "Don't bother him, Mum. He's workin' on the TARDIS, an' it's delicate. He needs to concentrate on that."
"But you're sick! Maybe there's somethin' he can do—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "'Course it's not like he's a proper doctor anyway."
"I'm okay," Rose asserted. "'S just a cold. D'you have any orange juice?"
Jackie seemed about to protest, but she relented and opened the refrigerator. Rose took a shaky breath and attempted to suppress the cough threatening to erupt from her chest.
Three glasses of orange juice and two cups of tea did nothing to assuage Rose's cough and the low-grade fever that kept her achy and uncomfortable. She'd returned to the couch, where she'd curled up in front of the telly. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was on the verge of sleep. However, another round of coughing interrupted her efforts at slumber.
Jackie's voice further thwarted her intentions. "That's it, Rose," she said firmly, entering the room a minute or two later. "I've called the doctor, an' he can see you in half an hour."
Rose opened her eyes. "I told you not to do that!"
Jackie appeared confused for a moment, then replied, "No, Rose, not the Doctor. I called Dr. Bellingham—told him you'd been travelin' to some exotic locations an' might've picked up somethin'. He said he'd get you in straightaway."
"Mum, really, I'm fine," she tried to object, but naturally her body betrayed her, and she coughed raggedly again.
The afternoon saw Rose tucked back into bed, a bottle of strong cough syrup and a packet of antibiotics on her bedside table. Jackie's dire diagnosis had, of course, been completely ridiculous; her daughter was suffering from nothing more exotic than a bout of bronchitis. Dr. Bellingham had assured them both that a few days of rest and medication would resolve the problem.
The cough syrup helped considerably, and Rose had a good, long nap. She awoke just before dusk feeling much better. She could hear her mother preparing tea; the whistle of the kettle was a familiar sound. So was the Doctor's voice.
Rose sat up quickly. The Doctor's voice? She hadn't expected to hear that. She got out of bed and walked toward the kitchen.
"She's fine," Jackie was saying, obviously trying to infuse deep conviction into her voice. "But she's finally fallen asleep, an' you're not gonna disturb her."
"I should have a look at her," the Doctor replied, his voice equally resolute.
"Doctor," Rose croaked, entering the kitchen, "what're you doin' here?"
His eyes widened slightly when he saw her. "Blimey Rose! You look awful! What's the matter?"
She rolled her eyes and rasped, "Why's everyone have to say how horrible I look? That doesn't help!"
He moved to stand before her in one long stride. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes as he pressed his other hand against her cheek. "She's running a fever," he said to Jackie.
"Yeah, she knows," Rose replied rather huffily.
"She's gonna be fine," Jackie said firmly. "I took her to the doctor, an' he's given her some medicine."
"Doctor? What doctor?" the Time Lord asked. "And what sort of medicine? Oh, don't tell me it's your archaic form of antibiotics…those'll take ages to work."
Jackie reached for his arm and tugged him away from Rose's side. "She needs her rest, so I'll thank you to go back to your ship an' your tinkerin', and leave her in peace an' quiet for a day or two." She was shoving him toward the doorway as she spoke.
He caught the doorjamb with his hand and stood firmly against her formidable efforts. "I should have a proper look at her. Let me take her back to the TARDIS—"
Jackie's arms crossed over her bosom. "Absolutely not! She's stayin' right here, with her mum an' her medicine."
"At least let me see what sort of primitive glop she's been given."
Jackie shook her head and uncrossed one arm to point at the door. "Out. Now."
Rose's voice was very husky, but she managed to croak out, "I'm fine, Doctor. You still workin' on the TARDIS?"
He nodded. "It's going to take another day or so. I just came up to tell you that—and then your mother tells me that you're sick, and she won't even let me see you—"
"'S okay," Rose assured him, albeit very raspily. "You jus' go back to the ship an' finish up. 'M feelin' better already."
He peered around Jackie. "You sure, Rose?"
She nodded. "By the time you're done, I'll be back to my old self."
Reluctantly he have a small nod of acquiescence. "But you know where I am. If you need anything—"
Jackie took a step forward, and the Doctor stepped back in time. "She won't," the older woman said firmly. "At least not from you."
"I'll check in on you tomorrow," the Time Lord said.
"Thanks, Doctor." Rose managed to wait until Jackie had closed—not slammed, just closed very securely—the door behind him before she permitted the cough to erupt from her chest.
"Oh sweetheart," Jackie admonished gently, "you need more of that cough syrup! Come on," she returned to the kitchen and took her daughter's arm, "back to bed with you."
To be continued...