The Alternative

The Alternative, Nine/Rose, adult
In this world his name is John, John Davis. The lack of Smith amuses her, but she knows from before that things in this universe aren’t always quite on par with the way her universe was. , 1,342




She finds him in the new world after she is cruelly abandoned there. He looks exactly like he did at first; even sounds like he’s from the North. He works at Torchwood, he’s Pete’s second-in-command and this does not surprise her.

Nothing surprises her anymore.

Every day he sees her, nods his head and says “Morning, Miss Tyler,” in his Northern drawl. It sends shivers down her spine and she has to focus on anything but him because god damn does it hurt. She is sure the universe is punishing her for something that she’s done; because it is cruel to slam her with a daily reminder of what she once had.

He has the same light in his eyes, she notices, when he brings her paperwork to sign. She’s going to be on his team; Pete thinks they’ll work well together. She’s caught Mickey giving him looks; because he knows exactly who he reminds her of.

In this world his name is John, John Davis. The lack of Smith amuses her, but she knows from before that things in this universe aren’t always quite on par with the way her universe was.

She still thinks it’s a cruel joke of nature.

Then he saves her life. There was the usual; aliens, fire fight, etcetera ecetera, and then she got shot. It was her first and fuck did it hurt. Then he was there, his hands pressing over the wound with his jacket, his eyes filled with worry. She focused on his eyes, ignored the pain. They were talking to her, she knew, but she couldn’t find the words to answer them so she just stared at him, at John, and hoped that he could read her thoughts.

Later she found out that it was John that carried her to safety after she blacked out. They said that he refused to be separated from her until he was sure that she was okay. Mickey attributed it to him not wanting to lose his job after putting her in danger in the first place, but she knew better. She remembered his eyes and his hands as they covered the bleeding, shaking.

After that the nature of their relationship changed. When she showed up in the morning for work he would have a coffee ready for her. She always said thank you but nothing else. They still didn’t talk much, but she was content to just be in his presence. Mickey resented her for it, but she had never been able to explain to him how he had made her feel; like she was everything in the universe and then more.

It was a quiet night in the office when something finally happened. Everyone else had gone home long ago, but Rose was still in her office, working on paperwork. It was storming and the occasional bolt of lightning would streak across the sky, followed immediately by the rumble of thunder. It was so loud it rattled her windows. She didn’t mind though, she loved thunderstorms.

There was a knock at her door and she looked up from her computer. “Come in,” she called and John stepped into her office. She breathed in sharply, her heart rate increasing. All the things that she had been fantasizing about doing to him streamed through her head in that moment.

She only had her desk lamp on, but lightning flashed across the sky and lit her whole office up. He didn’t say anything but as she stood up he walked over to her desk. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, saying nothing, and yet, everything. Rose raised her hand and brushed her fingers across his mouth.

“Was there something you wanted?” she whispered as thunder shook the whole building.

“You,” he replied, his voice low. Her breath shook as she inhaled and she let her hand trail down his cheek to his neck. He leaned in until their lips were almost touching; she could feel his breath mix with hers. ”Rose,” he whispered before capturing her lips with his.

It was everything she could have hoped it would be and more. He tasted like coffee and peanut butter and time; the time that she never had before, and would never be able to have again. She kissed him back fiercely, opening her mouth to allow him access when his tongue ran across her lips. She backed up, pulling him with her until she ran into the desk behind her. He placed his hands on her hips without breaking the kiss and lifted her to sit on her desk. She spread her knees to allow her to stand between them and pulled him closer. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling for the buttons to his shirt so she could undo them.

She was wearing a dress and his hands left her hips slowly and trailed up to the nape of her neck where he found her zipper and pulled it down gently. When his hands brushed her bare skin underneath she moaned lightly. Lightning lit up the room as Rose finished unbuttoning John’s shirt and she pushed it down and off his arms onto the floor. Likewise, he pulled the top of her dress down and off her arms, exposing her lace covered breasts. He broke their kiss and let his eyes travel down her exposed body, his hands finding and coming to rest on the scar that was a result of her being shot. She brought her hand down to cover his and he looked into her eyes.

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?” he asked. She threw her head back and laughed while blinking back the tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.

“Just pretend you have, just for tonight, for me,” she replied softly, tightening her hand over his. His mouth was on hers again and she lifted her bum off the desk so he could pull her dress off completely. Her hands went to the belt on his trousers and undid it and pulled it off, flinging it into the corner. Her hands returned moments later to undo the button and zipper before pulling his pants off completely. He, meanwhile, had unhooked her bra and he broke their kissed and pushed her back and brought his mouth down to one breast. She gasped as his tongue swirled around her nipple and arched her back, bracing herself on the table. His hand kneaded the other breast gently and Rose let out a low hissing noise. He switched then and she took the opportunity to reach between them and grab him firmly. She felt his whole body tense and she began to stroke him. She started slowly at first and but increased her pace. He stopped what he was doing then and tilted his head back, eyes closed in bliss.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he grabbed her wrist, stilling her arm. He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her to the edge of the desk before entering her. She gasped and grabbed onto his arms where they held her waist. She moved against him and their movements became more frantic. He moved his hand from her waist down to in between them and brushed her clit with his fingers. She was still holding his arm and she dug her nails into his skin and moaned. He brushed it again, and again, increasing his pace. Her hips bucked against his and she moaned again; and then she came, her body stilling and pulsing with energy. He came right after and he dropped his head into the crook of her neck.


They didn’t say anything after. She was sure that words would cheapen what had happen because she would remember that it wasn’t really him, but someone that looked like him.

Before he left he dropped a chaste kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes when he did, holding back the tears that were forming there, and when she opened them, he was gone.