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Fic: Heritage, Chapter Eight

Title: Heritage, Chapter Eight
Author: NP-Complete
Rating: R for adult-ish content
Characters: OCs; historical Rose/Ten
Spoilers: Doomsday
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even close. No money being made.

Summary: Half Time Lord, all human

Author's Note: Thanks to everybody who commented on my previous chapters. Thanks especially to kalleah for beta and encouragement.

“I need a proper change of clothes,” she said. They were sitting on his sofa, John next to her with his arms around her. She was wearing his dressing-gown.

“I’ve a better idea,” he said, nuzzling. “Don’t wear clothes.”

She woke the first time when she felt John pull away, out of her arms. She protested, but he soothed her with warm kisses, saying “Sh—sh. I’ll be back. I’ll be right back.”

She awoke the second time, some time later. The light in the room was richer, while still bright – it was some time in the afternoon. The duvet had been pulled over her. Next to her, John lay across the bed, stretched out on his side, with a book in front of him, though his eyes were on her. At some point, he had put his track suit bottoms on.

“You’re wearing clothes,” she said, mournfully.

He brightened, put the book aside. “Well, that can be fixed,” he said, moving closer. He put his hand on her face, tilting it towards him, and kissed her.

“Want anything?” he murmured, rubbing her nose with his. “Water? A cup of tea?”

For some reason the thought of post-coital tea made her smile. “Water, please,” she said.

He sat up, reached for a pitcher and glass on the bedside table, and poured her a glass. She sat up, drank it in small sips, thinking over what had happened.

They had made love. They were lovers, now. “We did it,” she said, to herself, but John reached over and touched her shoulder, gently.

“We did,” he said, and in his eyes she saw hope, affection, a quiet, accepting gladness.

She handed the glass back to him, and he put it back on the bedside table. Again, she admired the long, lean lines of him. There was something spare and sleek to him, as if he were built for sprinting and evasion, for sliding between trees and slicing through water.

“Come here,” she said, and meant it thoroughly.

“Gladly,” he said, and crawled over, pushing the duvet to one side and sinking down on top of her. She luxuriated in the heaviness of him, that glorious weight.

“You’re talented,” she told him, as he kissed along her jaw.

“Mm,” he replied, moving up to her ear. “Perhaps I could have a career at it. Go on tour.” He bit her earlobe, and she shivered, delighted.

“I’m not letting you go,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. She wanted it clear where his duties lay.

“Good,” he said, nuzzling, “because I don’t actually want to go. I like it where I am, oh, very much.”

She hummed contentedly. He pulled back, and kissed her mouth. “Or,” he said, as the thought occurred to him, “you could come with me. Be my personal trainer.” He punctuated the sentences with kisses. “We’d rehearse every day.” Kiss, kiss. “You’d be very demanding.”

“Mm,” she said, kissing his chin. “I would, would I?”

“Of course,” he said. “You’d want me in peak shape. No going soft.”

The obvious innuendo occurred to them both at once, and they snickered.

“Well, only at the end,” he amended, rolling them over. “Only when you’re absolutely [kiss], completely [kiss], done with me.”

It was an appealing prospect. “Confident, you are,” she observed, pleased.

“Nope,” he said, and lifted his mouth to her ear. “Inspired,” he breathed.

She felt a tingle of delight go through her. Truly, that was the perfect thing to say.

That was so much the right thing to say, in fact, that she was going to reward him.

“I have an idea,” she said, and pulled out of his arms. He let her go, watching. She scooted to the middle of the bed, and knelt, considering a plan of attack.

“Take off those trousers,” she ordered.

“What?” he said, from up at the top of the bed.

She gave him her sweetest smile. “I’m being demanding.”


If that wasn’t her best work ever, she thought, some time afterwards, it was certainly a candidate. There was a lot to be said for inspiration.

John lay flat on his back in the center of the bed, eyes closed, in a jelly-like state of lassitude. He seemed to be focused primarily on breathing.

“You—” he said, and then stopped. “You—”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. John opened one eye, and regarded her.

“When I … regain … consciousness,” he told her, solemnly, between breaths, “I will … reciprocate.”

It had the ring of a promise. “Good,” she said.

He nodded, faintly. “Bye now,” he said, and closed his eyes.


Dinner was had out, in a small French restaurant not too far from John’s flat, and they ate chicken with rosemary and morels and talked about anything and nothing, unable to take their eyes off each other. Food had never tasted so good, or been so irrelevant. They took another stroll through past the storefronts, hand in hand, and then it was back to John’s flat, and his reciprocation, or as he put it, his revenge.

“I’ve had all dinner to plan this,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her from between her naked legs. “And, don’t forget—I know your weaknesses now.”

She had found a good, good, thing, and no mistake. “Quick learner,” she noted, with approval.

“Oh, I am that,” he promised. “Just you wait.”

He had clearly gained much from his calibration exercises of earlier that day, she thought, as he enthusiastically licked her into oblivion. Not for the first time, she admired the precision of the scientific mind.


Sunday morning came, and with that came the necessity of returning to her own flat.

“I need a proper change of clothes,” she said. They were sitting on his sofa, John next to her with his arms around her. She was wearing his dressing-gown.

“I’ve a better idea,” he said, nuzzling. “Don’t wear clothes.”

“And—I’ve got to do laundry,” she said, thinking of Monday morning. “Sorry.”

John sighed, head resting against her. She could feel, in his body, the moment he gave in and accepted the idea.

“I continue to recommend nakedness,” he said, after a moment. “But if you must….”

He stood up, and offered her his hand. “One more time?” he suggested.

“No harm in that,” she agreed.


He walked her to the tube station afterwards, traded close kisses back and forth with her on the platform. “When will I see you again?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, surprised.

“Oh,” he said, looking struck. “That’s right.”


She spent the rest of the day quietly, going through the motions of tending her home, preoccupied. She had a lover, now. John Tyler: son of Rose Tyler, space diplomat; grandson of Pete Tyler, fizzy drink tycoon and freedom fighter. She’d seen the tabloids running their headlines at the newsagent’s on the train platforms, as her train had gone by suburban stations. Was John Tyler getting a girlfriend a newsworthy event?

Was she his girlfriend? Was she even a girlfriend? He wanted to see her again – no, if his body language and tone of voice were anything to go by, he had hated her leaving him, longed to see her again. He was anything but a playboy – she’d never heard any rumour at work of him seeing anyone, never seen tabloid mentions of him beyond the very basic in all the years she’d been vaguely aware that Rose Tyler had a son. He lived in a state of merely bourgeois propriety: indeed, she assumed that all the Vitex money had gone into founding the Institute. She’d heard it owned some impressive percentage of Vitex shares.

She knew he’d had girlfriends. Some basic net searches had turned up photos and mentions in event coverage of a charitable foundation executive he’d been seen with over several years, ending about five years ago. He didn’t look particularly happy in most of the photographs, but considering they were all at public events, she wasn’t surprised.

She played through a sonata on the little keyboard that substituted for a piano at her flat, trying to get her mind away from the upheaval of her private life. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? John Tyler, that lean body, those expressive features, that brooding intensity, all focused on her?

What was going to happen tomorrow?


She woke early the next morning, and filled in time having a conscientiously nutritious breakfast and pressing her best trousers. She put on makeup very carefully, lining her eyes with care and tracing her mouth with lipstick. It seemed important to be as impeccable as possible.

She had the window seat on the train, and caught her reflection in the glass when the train passed something with a dark background. Looking back at her was a black-and-white, shadow-limned image of a perfectly groomed, professional woman.

That woman didn’t spend the weekend in bed with her lover. Or if she had, you’d never know it.

She looked around at the other passengers. Everyone was either looking at something, listening to something, or staring into middle distance with a neutral frown. She tried to imagine some of them slipping naked out of bed this morning, kissing someone goodbye, bidding their lover farewell for ten hours as they armoured up in businesswear and went to work. Monday morning light bleached the idyll out of people, she concluded.

She arrived at work at 8:26, more or less as usual. The front lobby, the lift, and the hallways seemed new and familiar all at once, as if it had been a very long time since she had been there. She settled behind her desk, nervously checking her mail and glancing at the African violet.

At 9:04, John walked in, wearing that familiar overcoat, furled umbrella in hand. She watched him as he opened the coat, shook it off his shoulders, hung it up on the coat-rack.

He turned, and glanced at her, chin lowered, eyes filled with hope. And as she began to smile, the light in his eyes took fire and his face was transformed with a big, thankful smile.

She felt her face break into an answering smile, helplessly happy. They stood, smiling at each other, for a moment, and then he began walking purposefully towards her desk.

“I see,” he said, looking in her eyes, then down at her desk, then up again, “I see you—everything—” He paused, took in a breath, and just looked at her, taking her in, feelings swirling in his eyes.

“The violet seems to be doing well,” he observed at last.

She laughed. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said, grinning all out of proportion to the sentiment. “Good.”

They stayed like that, smiling at each other, until somebody passing by snapped them back into awareness of their surroundings. “Well,” said John, attempting to sound like someone who had just been conferring with a colleague, “Um. I’ll see you in, um. Later. The staff meeting.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, hoping to sound appropriately neutral, and John made an awkward turn and strode off for his own office. She stared after him, watching each flustered footstep with a warm, possessive delight.

Next Chapter


( 42 comments — Leave a comment )
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Aug. 6th, 2007 12:50 am (UTC)
Oh, I loved this chapter! It's just so blissful, so happy. Now, most stories would then proceed to throw a huge monkey wrench into things, but I have the feeling that won't happen. Or it'll be some kind of dilemma that is different from any other story, but completely perfect for this one.

Seriously, I loved the way you captured that feeling that the weekend will never end, and then what happens when it does. Just gorgeous.
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:39 am (UTC)
Seriously, I loved the way you captured that feeling that the weekend will never end, and then what happens when it does.

Then I've done good, because that's what I wanted to convey.

Thanks so much for the kind comments.
Aug. 6th, 2007 01:12 am (UTC)
SQUEE!!! I have never like a next gen type story - but I am addicted to this one...
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:41 am (UTC)
My first squee! from a reader!

I'm so glad you like it! Thanks for commenting!
Aug. 6th, 2007 01:18 am (UTC)
Steamy, but cute at the same time.
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:42 am (UTC)
Sounds cool...?

Thanks for commenting!
(no subject) - jvgymnast - Aug. 7th, 2007 02:14 am (UTC) - Expand
Aug. 6th, 2007 01:48 am (UTC)
God I've been waiting for an update! So glad you have. Keep it up! ^__^


PS: Major squee-ness
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:42 am (UTC)
Yes, I'm slow, but I'm committing to finishing this fic. It just may take a while. :)

Glad you're enjoying it, and thanks for commenting.
(no subject) - neverwinter - Aug. 7th, 2007 09:37 am (UTC) - Expand
Aug. 6th, 2007 02:07 am (UTC)
Oh, this story is fantastic. Absolutely squee-worthy!
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:43 am (UTC)
Thank you so much!
Aug. 6th, 2007 02:20 am (UTC)
As I said when I first read this -- they're giddy, and romantic, and it's fantastic. You've captured those heady emotions very well.
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:44 am (UTC)
Yes, it's a happy, happy time for them. I'm so glad you feel I've captured it. Thanks so much.
Aug. 6th, 2007 02:57 am (UTC)
This had be grinning all the way through it. It makes me so happy. I mean... really. Just, so gleeful and warm and bubbly and everything!
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:44 am (UTC)

Thanks for reading, and for commenting!
Aug. 6th, 2007 05:15 am (UTC)
This fic is really just lovely. I wasn't sure about it at first, but I just got suckered in, and now I'm just dying for more. It's sweet and romantic and I love how the uncertainty just blossomed into "absolutely, yes...definitely." I'm curious to see where you're going to take it from here!

Thanks for writing!
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:46 am (UTC)
Thank you so much, and thank you for commenting!

Yes, this is a very happy time for them. We'll see what happens next quite shortly.
Aug. 6th, 2007 06:39 am (UTC)
I've been noticing updates for this on T&C for a while now, but have been rather wary simply because of the sheer number of atrocious baby!fics/nextgen!fics out there and I am incredibly happy to see just how wrong I was. I read all eight chapters in one sitting and I can't tell you just how much I love about this story.
Your style is gorgeous, I love the little details you include like the description a few chapters back of the patches of rainbow color on the memo board when one of their co-workers was tapping it. I absolutely adore John's characterization. I love how you have completely established him as his own person while still putting in little flashes that leave no doubt as to who his parents are.
I could ramble on for ages, but I'll spare you and just say how incredibly glad I am that I gave this story a chance. I'll definitely never ignore another update on T&C.
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:51 am (UTC)
Wow. Thank you so much!

John was fully-formed almost from the beginning, when I was writing the first chapter. It was as if I had opened a window on a conversation that was already going. It's been a challenge and a delight to try to do him justice.

I'm so glad you've enjoyed it. (Feel free to ramble on any time!) Thank you for commenting, and for reading.
Aug. 6th, 2007 06:48 pm (UTC)
Wow! *dies contented* Loved the happy.
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:52 am (UTC)
Thank you so much!
Aug. 6th, 2007 07:24 pm (UTC)
awww *floof*! *is ded of floof. is gewd feeling*
Aug. 7th, 2007 01:52 am (UTC)
Kewl. :)
Aug. 6th, 2007 08:37 pm (UTC)
Another lovely chapter. You capture Penny and John post-coitus quite nicely, and I love how you leave so much of their ensuing activity to the imagination. The rhythm and flow of their conversation and interaction is so...gentle. And comfortable. It feels so organic, it's hard to believe that these are two completely original characters.

Aug. 7th, 2007 02:03 am (UTC)
Thank you so much. I like the way you describe John and Penny and their interaction. They're both gentle people, and this is a time of great happiness and discovery for them.

I was worried originally about whether I could sustain people's interest with a story in which the series characters appeared very little. So far, it looks like
I've been able to, and I'm very happy about that.

Thanks for reading, and for commenting!
Aug. 6th, 2007 10:13 pm (UTC)
Gorgeous chapter. You perfectly capture the joy and giddiness and overall giggliness of the period their relationship is in, without any of the obnoxious giggling. If that makes any sense. Anyway, it's a compliment, I promise.
Aug. 7th, 2007 02:04 am (UTC)
Thanks so much! "Giddy" describes it well, I think.

Thanks so much for reading, and for commenting!
Aug. 7th, 2007 02:43 am (UTC)
Gorgeous, again. That simple, blissful idyll, and then the precarious bit of 'how will he react?'... only to be pulled of beautifully. *sigh* I've grown decidedly attached to John and Penny.
Aug. 8th, 2007 02:19 am (UTC)
I'm awfully fond of them myself. :)

Thanks for reading, and for commenting!

Aug. 7th, 2007 02:20 pm (UTC)
I don't know how I missed this as you were posting it, but I count myself lucky to have found it now! This is truly a wonderful story and a brilliant re-focus of the usual post-DD fic concepts. I adore the fact that you've made John just enough like Rose and the Doctor to set our fangirl minds racing, but enough his own man that he stands up as a character.

The fact that he is so endearingly human as opposed to being a carbon copy of the Doctor is genius.
Aug. 8th, 2007 02:44 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! John's been a challenge (to convey as accurately as I can) and a delight (because he's fun to write.) It's been fun watching him come gradually out of his shell as Penny persists in coaxing him.

The original idea came from noticing how the Doctor's offspring in babyfic were almost always delightful, precocious, effervescent junior Time Lords. I started wondering: what if that's what Rose was expecting? and what if she got, instead, someone who was merely human?
(no subject) - whochick - Aug. 8th, 2007 06:19 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - np_complete - Aug. 11th, 2007 04:54 pm (UTC) - Expand
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( 42 comments — Leave a comment )


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