Of Camphor and Colds
By Abby
Rating: G
Notes: Drabble. Title says it all. Rose/Doctor 10.5. Please R+R
o O o O o O o
"Well, at least let me rub some on for you, ya?'
Rose watched as the Doctor groaned and shifted under the covers. He was being less than the perfect patient, looking like a child with his hair sticking up in every direction and the comforter pulled up under his chin. He eyed the jar in her hands with disdain. "Besides, it doesn't work anyway." His voice croaked.
Rose looked down at the ointment. "Mum used to put some on my chest when I was little. Always made me feel better when I was sick." She opened the lid and breathed in the scent. "And 'sides, I like the way it smells. Reminds me of Christmas."
The Part-Time Lord snorted, only to end up coughing, whining miserably when it finally subsided. "Not like I have too many fond memories of Christmases past."
"There was last Christmas, remember." Rose thought back to their first Christmas in this universe, and their observation of the mistletoe tradition.
"Mmm" said the Doctor, obviously reminiscing about the same thing. "Still, it doesn't work. It's the camphor playing tricks on your brain. It makes you think that your air passages are open when they're really not." He sniffed.
Rose gave up and tossed the jar on the nightstand. "Fine, then." She moved around the foot of the bed and plopped down on her side, tugging off her socks and slipping between the sheets. Switching off her bedside lamp, the room was plunged into temporary darkness. Eventually, her eyes adjusted and she saw that the moonlight tinged everything blue, including the Doctor. It made his skin look even paler than it already was, and she felt compelled to snuggle up against him, laying her arm across his chest.
"Uf, don't put any pressure on me." He said grumpily, and she retreated off of him. He must have felt bad about snapping, though, because he scooted over so their sides were touching. Rose felt his hand seeking out hers, and he brought it up to his lips to kiss her lightly on the fingertips. "I haven't been sick in over a century." He explained quietly. "If there's one thing that I miss about having the full Gallifreyan physiology, it's the ability to catalyze toxins and infectious diseases." He coughed again, groaning at the burning in his lungs.
Rose waited for his breathing to settle down, then leaned in and kissed his covered arm. "I hope you get better soon, though." She mumbled, rubbing her cheek against the flannel of his pajamas. "If anything so I can snog you proper again."
She smiled in the dark, expecting some sort of cheeky reply from his side of the bed, but there was only silence. "Doctor?" she whispered, sitting up a little. No answer. After a moment, though, a soft snore was emitted, and she realized that he had fallen asleep. He had had a trying day, after all.
Tugging her hand free of his grip and tucking him in a little more, she settled herself back on her pillow, letting the comfort of his warmth next to her lull her into sweet dreams.