I do not own Doctor Who.

I Surrender

The party was posh and elegant. The Doctor was wearing his best tux and Rose had on a sleek black dress. They stayed out of the way, keeping to the back wall, just observing. Except, of course, when she absolutely begged him to dance with her.

His movements were smooth and graceful; however it was obvious to her that his mind was elsewhere. Rose couldn't have that. In a bold move, she pushed herself up against him and danced as enticingly as she could manage, considering their surroundings. Yet, this seemed to distance him further. She sighed; why was she even trying?

The Doctor had been reluctant to agree to the dance for the same reason as his last body: she really tested his self-control. He looked everywhere but at her. He tried as best as he could to ignore the tantalizing feeling of his hands on her waist, separated from her skin by only a thin layer of fabric; it was far too thin. He could feel the warmth of her body leaking into his fingertips; it would be oh so easy to dispose of the flimsy cloth and –

He chanted to himself the names and functions of all the TARDIS's console's buttons and knobs in alphabetical order and back. He did everything he could to stop thinking about how wonderfully tight her dress was, and how dizzyingly low the front of it dipped. It was such a tempting expanse of skin which he just wanted to –

He recited the entire 'E' section of the 42nd century edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica – from 'Eababonian' to 'Ezyxyw'. He was capable of thinking of things other than Her. Suddenly, she started moving in a way he couldn't quite wrap his head around; it was agonizingly distracting. So what if he was always thinking about her? She was his companion after all. They spent almost all their time together… usually alone…

'Eflom: noun, the cable which connects…'

Her lips parted slightly. She inhaled slowly. "Doctor," she breathed. His hearts quickened. Oh, all the situations where he could imagine –

'Eflon: plural noun – singular 'efla', scales covered in fur which surround…'

"Doctor," she tried again. "The song is over. Lord Antlum is going to give a toast."

He swallowed. Right.

Now was the time to snoop. There had been rumors of an attack on Lord Antlum's life scheduled for tonight. There were plenty of guards roaming about, but the duo thought they'd lend and unofficial helping hand.

Rose reached out her hand for the Doctor's, as she was accustomed to, but was met with empty air. The Doctor had his hands in his pockets; physical contact was definitely not going to help his situation.

They got as close as they could to the hallway door without getting noticed and waited until the guests' attention was focused on the man speaking. They snuck through the threshold and examined their surroundings. The corridor was long, with lots of passageways breaking off in different directions. They walked forward and peered down a few of them. They were all identically long and lined with many doors.

They glanced at each other and shrugged, unsure of where to start. Rose chose one at random and they began down it. They had only made it to the first set of entrances when they heard the heavy clunk of military boots. In a panic, they checked the nearby doors. Locked. Deadlocked. The Doctor looked at Rose desperately and in a swift movement he pressed her up against the wall and flicked up his sonic, which he would use to conceal them. He fiddled with the button to find the right setting but the guard was getting dangerously close. Rose panicked.

"Don't worry, I've almost got it..." he muttered, still fiddling with the instrument.

"There's no time for that Doctor!" Rose whisper-screeched. In a completely impulsive and not at all thought about moment, she weaved a hand into his hair and pulled his lips to hers. If he had been prepared, he might have been able to not kiss back, but in this spontaneous instant, he was lost. The second their mouths joined, the strict control he prided in himself shrivelled and died. He had always found Rose attractive but he hadn't realized until now that it was an actual need; he didn't think he could live any longer unless she was there, with him, doing this – a wonderful dance of moist lips and searching hands. His carefully crafted defences shattered and he poured everything he had into the kiss. He thought vaguely that Rose's plan was brilliant; the guard appeared, looked at them enviously, but then continued on in his patrols without a word.

The Doctor's mind was both racing and completely blank. Rose pulled away as the guard rounded the corner and was about to speak, however the Doctor then began to work his way along her jaw and down her slender neck, her words instantly forgotten. Her mouth tasted of champagne and chocolate, her skin of coconut lotion and something else he couldn't identify, something he had never tasted before (and he did a lot of tasting) and could only assume it was the taste of Rose. It was delicious. Why had he ever decided to keep himself distant?! This was fantastic!

He heard voices coming from the banquet. The speeches must be over. He would have to socialise. His lips would have to be used for other things. Like talking. Well, he couldn't that now, could he?

He had left the TADRIS right outside of the city which meant that given the average evening traffic and time it would take to acquire a vehicle, it would take them approximately eighty two point six minutes get back, which was far too long to be separated from his Rose. No, he refused to be interrupted for that long.

The Doctor shocked her by abruptly breaking their mesmerizing snog. His hands lingered on her, however, one hand on her hip, the other in her hair. He could have easily activated his respiratory bypass, but he rather enjoyed the dizzy, breathless feeling. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and bolted, turning down the hallway the guard had entered moments ago. The ugly man turned and raised a gun on the dazed Time Lord.

"I surrender!" He cried, holding his arms out to be handcuffed. Rose had rounded the corner by now and stared at him completely boggled. Weren't they trying to avoid being caught? "We snuck in and have absolutely no right to be here. Lovely party. Really. But we'd like to be taken to our cell now, if you don't mind." He grinned hugely as the guard strapped on the yellow glowing light which was the restraint. He turned and winked at Rose as the guard placed another set on her. "Allons-y," he murmured.

They were taken down to what was considered to be a dungeon, but really, it was rather posh as well. It was all white and clean and cosy.

The cuffs were removed and they were locked in one of the spacious cells. Rose turned to the Doctor, angry.

"What did you do that for?! Everything was going so well!"

His eyes twinkled and he approached her. "Oh yes! Everything was fantastic! Molto bene!"

She had backed away and was now back to her previous position, sandwiched between the wall and the Doctor. He dipped his head down to continue their previous engagements but she turned away.

"You didn't answer my question!"

He twirled a strand of her hair in his fingers and sounded almost bored as he answered, "The TARDIS is over an hour away."

'So?' she asked with her eyes.

"So… that's a long time… a long time that could be spent doing better things…"

She shivered as his nose ran down her cheek and his cool breath skimmed her face. Oh. Oh. Well. She could certainly understand that.

It wasn't until much, much later that they attempted an escape.

Thoughts?