"But Doctor, you're still blindfol–"
"It's fine, Rose, just run!"
Rose grabs the Doctor's wrist and yanks her along, wrenching her away just in time to dodge the barrage of fire that splinters the wall behind them. Running down the corridor, legs pumping-pumping-pumping until they burn, Rose scans the area frantically for any hint of where they entered, any possible avenue of escape from the guards close behind them. She finds none.
"Here," the Doctor whispers breathlessly, and Rose immediately understands; the Doctor must know they're passing by a window, must have felt the light of the sun on her face, must remember that the window is framed by a pair of heavy drapes just thick enough to hide them, if they don't mind a tight fit. Rose tosses the drape aside and pulls the Doctor with her, dragging the fabric around them until they're hidden from view.
She has to stifle a gasp when the Doctor pushes her up against the windowframe.
She's just trying to hide us, Rose thinks; just trying to make us as flat as possible so the guards don't see. It doesn't mean anything.
Seconds later, Rose hears the guards' heavy footfalls echoing over the marble floors just meters away, but she barely notices it; she can scarcely make out anything over her blood rushing in her ears, her heart thundering in her chest, the spare heat of the Doctor's face radiating so close to hers, so close their cheeks nearly touch, so close that Rose can feel the millimeters buzzing between them. She bites her lip and tells herself that the heat she feels is just the sun-warmed glass at her back, that that swooping feeling low in her belly is nothing more than fear-fueled adrenaline.
Rose waits for the Doctor to move, for her to give the all-clear, but she's tense, still. At first, Rose wonders if the Doctor has heard something she hasn't–maybe more guards are coming, maybe the others will return–but then Rose realizes that a slow flush has crept up the Doctor's cheeks, painting them a soft pink. She can't think of why until she looks down.
Ah. The Doctor's hands, bound and tied as they are, were not able to push Rose by the shoulders or arms or waist as they might have normally. Instead, the Doctor pushed at Rose with her elbows and forearms, and with the blindfold throwing off her aim…well, the Doctor's arms are trapped between them, and her hands are precariously close to Rose's breasts. They're technically touching. Rose didn't even notice, earlier, amongst everything else, but now a blush is creeping up her face and neck as well, bright and hot like it's competing with the Doctor's.
Rose watches the Doctor swallow. "I'm so sorry," the Doctor mouths, her lips pulled into a grimace, brow knit in shame. Something burns in Rose's chest at the sight of the Doctor, all worried and abashed as if she did something wrong, but she didn't–not only because the blindfold impeded her, but because Rose simply doesn't mind. In fact, she does quite the opposite of minding. Which means it seems horribly unfair that the Doctor should punish herself over it.
She should probably just say something, but seized by a sudden impulse she has no desire to dispel, instead, Rose closes the short distance between them and presses a kiss to the Doctor's lips.
(That's got to be a pretty clear sign everything's all right, doesn't it? Even the Doctor should pick up on that one.)
The Doctor inhales sharply in shock, her body tensing all over. Ignoring her body's signals to keep going, don't stop, coax the Doctor's mouth open and slide your tongue in and pull her hips against yours, Rose steps back, head spinning, heart racing. Forcing her hands steady, she reaches around the back of the Doctor's head to untie her blindfold.
It takes several long moments for the Doctor to open her eyes after the blindfold falls away.
Finally, the Doctor's eyes slide slowly open, her gaze soft, as if she just woke up from the most pleasant dream. Rose flashes her a shy and hopeful smile.
But the Doctor just clears her throat. "Would you untie my hands?" she whispers, looking down.
Shame shoots through Rose like an arrow. Oh, god. Oh, she made a horrible mistake. Of course the Doctor doesn't feel that way about her. She's practically immortal, immeasurably wise, undoubtedly one of the most important creatures in all of time and space–what the hell would she ever see in someone as small and insignificant and human as Rose?
Rose can't hide the trembling in her hands now as she unties the Doctor's wrists. Mind racing, she tries to think of something to say (an explanation? An apology? A joke to brush it off, like it meant nothing?), but before she can open her mouth to let any words stutter out, she unwinds the last loop on the Doctor's wrists and suddenly the Doctor's hands are cupping her face and drawing her up for a hard kiss.
Thoughts scatter like leaves in a thunderstorm and Rose's brain empties itself of everything that is not this kiss. The Doctor fills her senses, with her thumb stroking Rose's jaw, the fabric of her suit rasping quietly against Rose's jeans, her clean and gentle scent pervading the air around them, the taste of her lips on Rose's. She opens her mouth to deepen the kiss and Rose hastily follows, hands darting up to grab a fistful of the Doctor's suit jacket, tangle in the Doctor's hair. In response, the Doctor pushes her tongue into Rose's mouth and when Rose's knees go weak at the sensation, her mind reeling and heart soaring so high Rose fears it might flutter away completely, the Doctor presses her back against the window, her body flush with Rose's as it holds her upright. The Doctor's hands fall to Rose's hips, fingers tracing the strip of exposed skin where her shirt doesn't quite meet her waistband, and shivers race down Rose's spine, and god, but this is sublime, it's more than Rose ever could have hoped for, it's perfect—
At least, it's perfect until Rose's fingernails scrape against the Doctor's scalp just so, and she groans so loudly the entire palace might have heard it.
They both freeze.
Within moments, Rose hears more footsteps pounding back their way.
"Ah," whispers the Doctor, eyes blown wide. "That might've—"
Grinning drunkenly, Rose cuts the Doctor off with a shake of her head. "It's fine, Doctor," she says, grabbing the Doctor's hand. "Just run!"