The Assassin of Madness

Chapter 3

The second they stepped out into the hall of what appeared to be a large castle, Rose let out a long, low whistle.  "Wow," she said eloquently, and the Doctor grinned at her as she observed the ornate building.  The century they were in was famous for its beautiful decorations, the epitome of what twenty-first century humans thought of as futuristic. 

Her eyes were wide and he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying watching her taking it all in.  She was so alive, Rose, looking at all the things around them with fresh eyes.  He'd never tire of her watching all the things that happened around them. 

"Have we got the psychic paper?" She asked, gripping his arm a little tighter at the thought. 

"Yes, don't worry, I've got it," he said reassuringly, patting her hand with his free one.  They approached what seemed to be a ballroom, odd music blaring from it.  A guard stood before the room and the Doctor fished out his psychic paper before flashing it to the guard.

He nodded curtly and faced the ballroom.  "Presenting the Doctor and Dame Rose Tyler of TARDIS," he said in a thick, booming voice.  He gestured for them to enter, and Rose all but pulled the Doctor along into the room as soon as he finished.

The Doctor bit back a laugh as he followed her into the ballroom and down the huge staircase with golden railings that curled at the ends.  The floor was pure white, despite the humanoids and aliens that were dancing across it to the music that Rose could only describe as the cliched 'futuristic.'  

She was in awe, squeezing the Doctor's arm.  "Thank you," she whispered.  

He squeezed her back as they reached the floor.  "You're welcome," he replied.  "Would you like to dance?" 

She looked at him with a shocked look.  "You want to dance?" She asked, her voice full of disbelief and an eyebrow cocked.

"Oh, come on," he said, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.  He took her other hand in his before sweeping them along with the other dancers.  He grinned her.  "We've danced before."

"Yeah, we have," she said, "But that was just one kind of dance.  You could've been dancing that one dance for years and years and years for all I know."

He tapped his fingers against her waist.  "Well, I've been known to practice, but maybe that was just because I wanted to impress you."

"Well, that would really be something, wouldn't it," she said, flirting back.

It was what they did, the flirting, the easy banter, and never saying anything about it the next day.  Rose always tried to shrug it off and ignore it, pretend it didn't bother her that they weren't anything more than what they were, but there were times when all she wanted was for him to hold her close.  He finally was, but not in the way she wanted.  This was a dance, and nothing more.  He would never see it as anything, and she had to accept that. 

But with him holding her so close to him, feeling his hands against her skin, it was hard to focus on anything at all.  He was talking again and she'd missed every word of it.  

"Sorry," she blinked, shaking herself, "Say that again?"

"I said, that's the Emperor," he said, jerking his head towards a man who was wearing a literal cape made of red satin.  

She looked back at the Doctor and arched her brow.   "You know, that's a bit extreme," she said, "You know, the whole cape bit.  Kinda Renaissance, don't you think?"

He laughed, shrugging a shoulder.  "Yeah, it would be a bit much.  But there it is," He said.  He wrinkled his nose.  "Do you like the cape?"

"No."