Curb Appeal

By Sonic Jules

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Disclaimer: Doctor Who and the characters of said show do not belong to me, no matter how hard I've wished for it. No infringement meant to the owners and associates, nor BBC.

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A/N:A big 'thank-you' to Catharticone, who - as always - has helped, guided advised and corrected.

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Chapter One:

Confusion

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"Rose!"

She could hear him. The Doctor was calling her name from a very great distance. At least it sounded like he was far away, all whispery and floaty, echoing toward her as if she were on top of a mountain and he was beckoning her from the valley below.

In fact, she thought she felt a chilled breeze from her perch up above, then realized it was the coolness of the Time Lord's fingertips as they rested on her cheek. The soft touches were there for only a moment before moving away, but then Rose felt those long digits wrap around her wrist, feeling her blood pulsing beneath them. She imagined the blood swooshing within her veins, and thought the beat was perhaps the slightest bit faster when his fingers made contact with her skin.

He was calling her name again - she could hear him - and Rose struggled within, trying to see the worry sounding clearly in his voice, knowing it would reflect upon his adorable face.

There was a whirring noise, seemingly poised right in front of her, and she recognized it as his sonic screwdriver. Why couldn't she just open her eyes and look at the tool? Look at him? Frustration was steadily building within her when suddenly her left eyelid was lifted. She was actually excited about the prospect of her body finally listening to her commands when she realized it was the Doctor's fingers doing the work instead of her own will. When he next raised the right lid, Rose tried mightily to focus upon the Time Lord, but her efforts failed miserably. She huffed a sigh in frustration.

"Rose? Can you hear me?"

She could, of course, but she couldn't very well tell him that. Not with her frail human body betraying her at the moment.

She felt those cool digits of his wrapping around her wrists, and wondered how'd they'd feel on other parts of her anatomy. Oh yeah. She must've hit her head, she realized. But they would feel really divine, wouldn't they? If she could have, she'd have shaken her head to rid herself of the bloody cobwebs of confusion. Since she couldn't do that, she tried to think of what her last clear memory was.

Apparently she'd encountered some sort of injury, be it during capture, torture, beating, abuse, or accident. Her talent seemed to lie in making herself a trouble magnet, and she had no doubt from her aches and pains and her current predicament - whatever it was - that she was living up to the title. But he'd obviously rescued her. Her Doctor. Always the knight in shining armor.

Not that this was a new occurrence or something that didn't happen almost every other day lately. Still though, it was a little disconcerting that she couldn't remember exactly what had happened this time.

No worries, though. Rose was sure the Doctor, with his enamoring gift of gab, would be telling her all about it. But first though, it seemed he was lifting her into his arms, which was nice. Very nice, in fact. He held her closely to him, and if she could she'd be snuggling into that hold, but still her body wasn't cooperating. Drat.

Then they were running. Strike that. He was running; she was being carried. She heard voices yelling excitedly, calling to the Doctor, but he kept moving them forward, ignoring the urgent shouts behind him.

Suddenly he held her tightly to him and his body stiffened as he froze in place.

"Rose," he whispered in her ear, "whatever you do, don't wake up now."

If she could've, she'd have burst into laughter.

She felt him shift them both backwards quite suddenly, and he slowed down his breathing to a point that she could barely hear it. But that was probably a good thing, she decided, as she heard heavy, fast footsteps and angry voices. The voices sounded familiar, though she couldn't quite place them. For one moment Rose thought she recognized her mum's angered chatter, but she quickly dismissed the notion.

Rose really wanted to enjoy the moment, but her thoughts were becoming fuzzy and there was this kind of hum in her mind that was lulling her back into unconsciousness. Her last thought as she was jostled about was what a shame it was that she couldn't enjoy the Doctor holding her like he was just a little bit longer.

OoO

When Rose awoke next, the first thing she noticed was the cold. A shiver thoroughly shook her body as a moan escaped her lips. They were outside then, or had she been unconscious long enough for the temperature to drop? She could only imagine, still unable to open her eyes and look around. There were far worse scenarios, but she tried not to think of them, instead focusing on the sounds around her.

There was wind, or was that breathing? Rose listened and determined it was a combination of both. Someone was breathing heavily, and as some of her senses began to focus, she realized that someone was carrying her. And it hurt. She moaned again.

"Almost there, Rose. We're almost there. Just hang on ... Please." That was the Doctor's voice. He was still carrying her, and he sounded nearly breathless and quite worried. She remembered he was carrying her before, but nothing else as her pain faded and she lost consciousness once more.

OoO