Kisses
By Literary Litany
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all characters therein are property of the BBC, not poor American fangirls who get no money for writing this stuff.
When he stopped. When he left her leaning heavily against the TARDIS grates because her legs had turned to jelly, there was just one question on her mind.
"Where…" She breathed, and took in a gulp of very-much needed air. "Did you learn to kiss like that?"
He grinned at her, and she half expected to hear him rattle off some obscure planet, and maybe a quick story about getting friendly with the locals. Instead, he said. "I've read books."
Her mouth fell open at that, and she stared at him in disbelief. "Books?" She inquired, her disbelief growing. "Books?"
He blinked at her. "Is there something wrong with that?" He straightened, face reflecting a bruised ego. "I get it wrong or something?"
Her first reaction would have been to blurt out, no, but a sneakier idea struck her, and she went with it. "I dunno… I may need to review it a second time." She drawled, tongue poking out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth in that signature grin of hers.
He let out a long-suffering sigh before leaning in again and proceeding to kiss the life out of her. Again.
His hand slipped behind her this time, tickling at the inch of exposed skin above her jeans and coaxing her skillfully into leaning back, putting herself even more totally at his mercy. There was just too much sensory input for her to handle, and she once more found her ability to fight back with her own kissing prowess severely diminished.
Damn him and that quick tongue of his.
When he pulled away, her breath was short again, her cheeks were flushed, and there was a growing voice in the back of her head that informed her their clothes would not be surviving another kiss.
"Books my arse." She declared breathlessly, still more than a little distracted by his hand at her waist.
He raised a querulous eyebrow. "Are you calling me a liar, Rose Tyler?"
She nodded, not trusting her very happy tongue around more words than absolutely necessary. The things it wanted to say might slip out, and then his ego would get bigger, and there'd only be room for her in that junk room he insisted was priceless artifacts storage area.
He shook his head in amusement and climbed out from under the TARDIS' controls, taking her hand and dragging her and her unwieldy legs with him. She was unhappy to lose the contact that had been distracting her, but then the fit of her hand in his was as it had always been, perfect, and the unhappiness was replaced by a dull throb of joy.
She almost stopped to think as he tugged her down the corridors. Almost stopped to consider what this meant, and what it would change, and what in the world she was going to tell poor Adam. But the voice in the back of her head that had issued its earlier warning kept away common sense, and she determined not to dwell on it.
But as she watched the Doctor she was almost positive he was dwelling on it. There was a storm in his blue eyes that bordered on brooding.
And that was his string. Every good bloke had them, especially the good kissers, and for the Doctor it was his brooding. His ability to inflict painful thoughts on himself, because all he really had to do was throw a spear in the dark up there and he ran into a memory with something painful in it.
She poked him in the ribs and had the small satisfaction of seeing him jump. "Stop it." She commanded firmly, and he furrowed his brows at her in confusion, faltering in his steps towards what she now reasoned must be the TARDIS library.
"Stop what?"
"Brooding. Or I won't be taking a step inside the library." She sniffed airily and hoped her threat worked.
She seemed to have suitably distracted him more than frightened him, but he stopped brooding. "But I'm trying to show something to you. If you don't want to see it that's fine with me."
She grinned. "No, it's not."
His brows knit together until they came dangerously close to becoming one. She had a vague flashing image of plucking the Doctor's eyebrows as she'd once convinced Gerry(her third boyfriend) to let her do. She only managed to keep from giggling by biting down on her tongue.
"I give up. Why not?"
"Because," She said, attempting to sound matter-of-fact, "if these books are how you learned to kiss, I might be able to learn something too."
"But why would I—" His brows lifted in epiphany. "Oh."
She did giggle this time. "Yes. 'Oh'."
By this time they conveniently reached the library door(all timing inside the TARDIS seemed convenient, and she half wondered if it was the Time Ship or its pilot that chose which times that was).
The TARDIS library had been, upon her first introduction to it, the absolute largest room she had ever seen, with bookcases that reached so high they seemed to sway in the breeze. Yes: breeze. Occasionally, when the Doctor made "repairs" the TARDIS would develop it's own indoor climate and weather. For some reason in her room it always snowed.
Today, it was a small library, like one might see in a wealthy man's home, and Rose suspected this was due to the Doctor's mood. The first time he wanted to impress, now he wanted it private. Which was a good sign the brooding had not changed his mind about the whole kissing-Rose-is-fun situation.
"Go on, just pick a shelf and think of what you want." He said, shooing her away with a grin and sticking his hands in his pockets. She eyed him warily before doing as he said and crouching down before a row of books.
Kissing. Sure enough, a row of manuscripts, all with creative titles, appeared arrayed before her. 'The Anatomy of Tongue in Cheek.' 'Butterfly Kisses.' 'Mammals. Mouths, and Mates.'
She beat the little voice back with a stick when it started to wander past kissing, and a book with a title she didn't care to interpret appeared on the book shelf. One thing at a time.
Settling for 'Mind Over Matter in Matters of Mouth to Mouth.' And 'Space Kisses 101.' Rose plucked her choices from the shelves and walked back over to the Doctor, who waited impatiently by the fireplace that she didn't remember being there when they'd entered. "Done?" He asked, trying to sneak a glance at her picks, but she hugged them to her chest and kept her fingers over the spines. She had a feeling he was up to something.
"Yup."
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, something in the flow between them disrupted. "Look, Rose—" The Doctor began, but she cut him of.
"Oh, no you don't." She scolded, pinning him with a stern look before whirling toward the door and sending a look over her shoulder that clearly demanded he follow her. Bewildered, he did. "Don't you dare ask me if I want to leave. You promised."
He floundered a bit. "I wasn't going to ask—"
"No," She interrupted again, "You were going to ask if this was what I really wanted, if maybe I thought we'd made a mistake." She sent him a scathing look. "Well, yes, this is what I want, and no, it wasn't a mistake." She was building up momentum now, and the little voice got revenge for its earlier beating. "It was the best snog I've ever had."
He grinned. She blushed. His ego was suddenly making the hallway seem very cramped.
They reached her room in record time and it slid open obligingly at her approach. She turned to him, and he leaned in the archway, still grinning away. She sighed and waved a hand at him. "Oh, go stroke your own ego." She glanced somewhere that was pointedly not his mouth. "I've got some reading to do."
A/N: Well! This was a short burst of inspiration after re-reading all my wonderful reviews on 'Questions' and me thinking 'hey, I got an idea for this, why not write it?'. My first posted fanfic in months. Wow. Doctor Who is back! Thanks to you, my lovely reviewers. I feel more to come... Both fics, and hopefully reviews. I'm hoping to make 'Questions' into a triplet. Maybe call it 'Relationships 101' or something. Meh. I need a better title. Anyone got one?