"Rose, do you have any idea how difficult it is to concentrate with you doing that?"
She glared at him. "You're the one who interrupted me. You're the one who came into my private bathroom whilst I was having a very private bath."
"Yes, and you're the one who cocked up the TARDIS' plumbing," he retorted, tongue poking out between his teeth as he fiddled with the pipes under the sink. "Besides, you said you didn't mind me fixing it up while you're still in there. If you remember, I did offer to leave and come back to sort it later…"
It was true, she thought, sighing in frustration. She had made the executive decision to stay very much in the bath whilst he sorted out the plumbing problem. And, fine, so she'd thought that having a perfect view of his pinstriped bum whilst he was on his hands and knees a few feet away from her would be a lovely way to pass the time.
She just hadn't anticipated him taking so long about it.
"That was half hour ago," she huffed.
"Well, this is a tricky business!" He reached into his toolbox and extracted something she was 95% sure he didn't actually know how to use. In fact she was pretty certain it was actually a kitchen utensil they'd picked up from the 43rd century.
"But the water's getting cold." She fought to keep the whine out of her voice. The last thing she wanted was him getting irritated with her. Especially as she suspected he was already a bit miffed that she'd accidentally ruined her bathroom sink.
Although, really, that wasn't all her fault. He was the one who had taken them to that planet with the excellent pretzels. How was she supposed to know that she'd get a bucket of gloop thrown over her for daring to eat said pretzel in the holy marketplace? And how was she supposed to realise that wringing said gloop out of her hair over her sink would block the drain up?
No, it served him right, she thought, extending her leg out of the water again, eyeing it contemplatively. He'd been complaining about the noise of the water distracting him each time she restlessly moved about. Well, she'd fix that for him. She reached out her arm and grabbed a fluffy white towel off the rail above the radiator, and stood up. Tucking it around her, she stepped out and perched on the edge of the bath, before leaning back over to grab her shaving gel and razor.
::
The Doctor cursed under his breath as he heard her stand up.
It wasn't that the thought of her being very much unclothed behind him was causing him any problem at all. Certainly not. She was his best mate, and he was a Time Lord; he was hardly the sort to get giddy over a bit of naked skin. Naked skin which, in point of fact, he couldn't even see, considering he was facing away from her. Naked skin which, all right, was probably dripping with bathwater, and probably quite lovely, and probably a little bit alluring, but that wasn't -
That wasn't anything for him to concern himself with.
Besides, he thought to himself, whacking the pipe he was examining with the device he was half sure wasn't actually a tool at all. She obviously felt comfortable enough in his presence for him to sit around in here whilst she was bathing. So presumably she wouldn't take too kindly to discover that he was thinking about her with no clothes on. Which was fine by him; he hadn't batted an eyelid at first, because it wasn't like - well, it wasn't like -
This was hardly a sexy situation.
For a start, she'd buggered up the TARDIS plumbing by getting that ridiculous goo stuck in the pipes. He should be a bit angry about that, and he pretended he was, with the rigid set of his shoulders and his stern, "I leave you alone for five minutes!" But it was difficult to be angry with a woman who apologised with her eyelashes.
Secondly, he'd seen plenty of bare skin before. He'd seen plenty of Rose's bare skin before, when she wore those bikinis of hers at the beach or in the TARDIS pool, and it had never got him hot and bothered.
Well. Not that hot and bothered.
The point was, nudity wasn't such a big deal for him, not like it was for humans and their ideas about modesty and the way they'd sexualise a bloody apple if they could.
Still, he couldn't deny the flush that crept up his neck and face as he realised she was no longer covered by plenty of bubbles.
He kept his eyes diligently on his task, and a few seconds later, tried to ignore the sounds of something swiping along her skin. He suspected she was shaving her legs. Which meant that she was probably currently situated in a very interesting position, perhaps with her leg propped up and -
Yeah, best not.
He gulped, and went back to tuning her out so that he could concentrate on fixing the blasted pipes.
::
Rose waited for him to say something. He didn't.
He was infuriating.
She'd thought that maybe, just maybe, the clueless alien wasn't so clueless after all; that maybe he'd realise that when she'd said he could stay in here, she didn't actually want him to fix her bloody sink.
Or, well. He could start to fix her sink, and then things could turn out a little differently, like one of those porn films Mickey used to watch, with the helpless, barely dressed young woman and the plumber or mechanic or postman or whatever else.
No such luck.
She finished with her left leg and turned around to prop her right one up for better access, lathering it with shaving gel. As she resumed her task, she wondered whether he was actually getting anywhere with the pipes, or if he was just pretending he knew what he was doing out of sheer embarrassment. It would be so typical of him to persist with something he was useless at, just to avoid admitting he couldn't do it.
"Um, Doctor?"
"Mmm?"
"You nearly done?"
She heard him sigh. "Not quite."
"Want me to call Mickey? Think he's in the gamesroom but I'm sure if I went and asked him to help - "
She turned just in time to see his head hit the sink, which made her laugh.
"Beg your pardon?" he said, rubbing his forehead. He didn't look at her, though.
"He's quite good at handy sort of stuff. Fixed Mum's washing machine when it broke last year. Sure he'd have no trouble with this." She dipped her razor into the water and finished up. Standing, she flexed her leg for a moment to get the feeling back - however flexible she was, keeping it in that position had tired her muscles a bit, especially after their miles of running for their lives that afternoon.
She glanced down to make sure her towel was still secure, covering all the important bits, and wiped her hands on it. "I'll go and fetch him."
"Not necessary," the Doctor assured her.
"It's fine - "
"But you're naked," he said next, and the way he froze the instant the words had come out of his mouth told her he hadn't meant to blurt that out.
"No I'm not," she laughed, and cautiously, he turned his head to face her.
His eyes widened. "You're - ahem. You're still…not quite dressed."
Rose shrugged. "It's all right. I know you're a bit of a prude, Doctor, but it's not like Mickey's not seen it all before, yeah?"
She made for the door, counting to three, and then -
"It's not something he sees these days, though, is it?" he asked.
Bingo. Rose turned around again. He was on his back, now, propped up on his elbows to look at her.
"And," he added, before she could respond. "I'm not a prude. To be honest, Rose, that's a bit of an archaic concept - "
::
She smiled at him, and he narrowed his eyes, hoping she wasn't patronising him.
"Right. Course you're not. Sorry." She grabbed her dressing gown off the back of the door, put it on and tied it loosely, then let the towel drop beneath it. His eyes dropped to where the fabric pooled at her feet, then moved back up to her face, taking the leisurely route to fully take in her new state of dress.
"Better?" she asked.
"Different," he remarked.
He quite thought he'd dream about the cheeky grin that came to her face in that moment. He'd dream about it for centuries.
"I'll be right back. Don't break the pipes. Mickey will be useful, promise."
She left the bathroom and he tilted his head back, lying fully horizontal on the floor. He tossed the laser spanner he was holding into the toolbox, along with all the other pieces of equipment he'd attempted to unblock the pipes with, and decided that he was absolutely fine with Mickey fixing it instead. So what if Mickey was better at this than him? The Doctor had a time machine, and he reckoned that Mickey the Idiot wouldn't know the first thing about working the console, despite him apparently being such an accomplished mechanic and handyman.
Pffft, he thought, scratching his chin. Even Rose had flown the TARDIS. Mickey wouldn't even be able to find the dematerialisation lever. Looking up, he noticed that he hadn't reattached part of pipe he'd been fiddling with. Thinking nothing of it, he reached up to adjust it.
He was promptly covered in grim, gloopy goo.
Spluttering and coughing, he jumped up, and went to turn the sink taps on to wipe the gunk off himself. And then he remembered that he'd turned off the water to fix the pipes. Swearing, he blindly stumbled over to where Rose had dropped her towel, scooping it up and swiping at his face with it.
"Oh my god, are you sniffing my towel?" said Rose, as she returned to the bathroom.
He finished wiping his eyes and then stared at her, alarmed. "Of course I'm not!"
Her gaze landed on the mess covering the towel. "What…?"
"The pipe might've, well." He shifted, not liking that he'd have to admit he'd made such a mistake. "It spurted goo at me."
::
Rose blinked, once, twice, and then collapsed into laughter, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Oh my god. I knew you'd do that!"
"Do what?"
"Mess it up! Oh, Doctor." She walked over to him, and took the towel out of his hands, turning it over and finding a relatively clean bit to wipe at the remainder of the goo. "Sorry, here, let me help." He stood still, letting her get rid of the rest of it, and she smiled at him sympathetically. "So that's both of us who've had that lovely experience."
"Mine was worse," he grumbled. "Least yours came out of a bucket and not a drain."
"Still." She finished up, and tossed the towel into her laundry basket. "You okay? Didn't sting your eyes, did it?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks."
"No probs."
"Did you find Mickey?"
"Yeah, he says he'll come and take a look in a sec. Got to get to the next level before he can save the game, or something."
"I see."
"So you're gonna let him sort it, then?"
"Well, to be honest, the blockage is probably clear now. But he can…reattach the pipe. If he doesn't mind."
"It's fine." Rose giggled softly and reached up to smooth a bit of his hair away from his forehead. "You need a shower."
He smiled. "Yeah. I'll go and do that. In my own bathroom, where the pipes are nice to me."
She stuck her tongue out at him as he walked out. "Your own fault!"
"You blocked it!" he called back to her.
"You took us somewhere with stupid rules about pretzels!"
He poked his head around her door. "It wasn't just about pretzels, Rose. Any food consumed in that marketplace is a direct violation of their seven most sacred commandments - "
"You could've told me that," she pointed out. "You know, before I took a bite."
He flashed her a grin. "Might've forgot. Sorry."
Rose rolled her eyes. "You would."
"See you later."
"Yeah."
She watched him leave again, and fiddled with the tie on her dressing gown. And then, she had an idea.