Word Count: 3,194
Author's Summary: "Ninety-three trips, including our first stop in this universe and all those dimension cannon jumps afterward. By now, I'm as steeped in the stuff as the Daleks and Cybermen were at Canary Wharf," Rose whispers, the back of her neck prickling and cold. "But you've only been once in this body, haven't you, Doctor? Just once, like Pete."
Characters/Pairings: Ten (duplicate)/Rose
Recced because: A 3-D movie unexpectedly reminds Rose of her many, many trips through the void, and all the terrible things she saw before she finally found the Doctor – none more terrible than her memories of shock and depression post-Canary Wharf. She learns to move past that and embrace what she has with him now after a very sexy encounter in a chip-shop bathroom, of all places – and while the location itself may lack romance, the romantic connection between the two characters feels very real.
Rose hooks the glasses around her ears, blinks at her reflection in the mirror.
A blizzard of void motes surrounds her, drifting so thick she's a storm of black and green. Her face is hidden in the swirling mass, nearly all her distinguishing features lost under the dizzying weight of millions of drifting black and blue dots. Holding her breath, Rose reaches out toward the mirror, fingers stretching as though she might be able to push through the storm, to see a glimpse of her flesh. Maybe her reflection will reach out and grasp her hand to pull her out, rescue her like a drowning woman.
Dizziness sweeps over her, the cola and vinegar churning in her stomach. She can't look away from her reflection, wondering if each particle of void stuff could be extracted and dissected, if they each tell a story of a universe she's visited, of the wonderful and horrifying things she's seen.