We Are
a/n: I was going to put part of this in my multi-chapted story, "Til Death Do Us Part," but somehow it kept growing and turned into this shameless fluff-ball. Many happy feelings ahead.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," a familiar voice murmers.
There is a light touch on her hip and instinctively Rose tenses. The fingers withdraw, seeming to sense her fear, and Rose takes a moment to let her surroundings filter in before she does something rash. She still keeps a sonic blaster under her pillow after all these years, except hers isn't as harmless as the Doctor's.
"Rose," the voice says again, and she smiles, an automatic reaction to him. She can feel the sunlight now, streaming gently through the curtains. Her toes, which have somehow managed to sneak out from underneath the warmth of her blankets, curl instinctively toward the heat.
"Mmm," Rose answers at last, twisting to face the other direction. She refuses to open her eyes, however.
"Time to get up, sweetheart." He's chuckling now, amused by her.
Rose feels warm fingers threading through her hair and purrs at the sensation. He laughs again, a rumble deep in his throat.
"Too early," she grumbles even as she forces open her eyes, squinting at the brightness.
He's laying there across from her, already dressed in a blue button-up and jeans; further down, his trainers playfully knock against her toes. Rose kicks him in retaliation, just to hear him laugh one more time.
"Hmm...Doctor," Rose breathes finally, offering her husband a smile and reaching up to tousle his artfully messy hair.
His smile goes wobbly. "You haven't called me that in years," he remarks, brown eyes studying her carefully. "Not since he..."
They both pause, the memory of Bad Wolf Bay and the Doctor's abandonment of them difficult even after all this time.
"No," Rose says, shaking her head as best she can while burrowed in the pillows. "I had a dream about him...you...is all. He was trying to teach a Portian to speak Trefasadon." A laugh bubbles out of her and his face softens.
"How did that go?" he asks, playing along.
"Terribly," she says between giggles. "It just started hopping around him and chanting something about offending ancient customs and mortal danger."
He kisses her. It's unexpected, but Rose melts into it all the same.
"David," she murmers against his mouth. He makes an inquisitive noise and pecks her lips again. "Uh, morning breath."
"I don't care," David remarks promptly, nuzzling at her neck and pulling her close with lanky arms. He pulls, hard enough that Rose goes sprawling on top of him, landing with an undignified squeal.
"What was that for?" Rose wonders, looking curiously down at him. David doesn't respond and Rose realizes that he's studying her, probably cataloging the number of degrees by which her face has shifted in the last three days. He would be doing something like that, what with his genius brain and all. David might not be a full Time Lord anymore but he's still got the brain and the enormous gob; half the time, though Rose would never admit it, she forgets. She can almost convince herself that he's the Doctor, busy rambling on about some quirk in the planet they're visiting and how it's safe and 'Rose I swear we won't be chased by monsters made of jam this time.'
Then she realizes, amidst the pangs of homesickness in her gut and memories of the Time Lord, that she's got David. She doesn't need David to be the Doctor. Her husband is perfect simply the way he is, even without two hearts and a sentient space ship, and by god she loves him.
"So where are you taking me today?" Rose asks, interrupting whatever internal monologue he might be having.
The distant look slowly fades from David's eyes and Rose realizes that he hasn't just been studying her. His thoughts have been going much in the same direction as her own, back to memories of the TARDIS and 1000 years of experience that creep up on him sometime. These moments are less frequent now, but every now and again David's mind will simply drift away and all Rose can do is wait for him to return to her.
"Better hurry up," Rose adds when he still doesn't respond. "I think I can hear my mum banging about down there. No doubt she's found somethin' else to slap you for." It's said in a joking tone but David still flinches anyway, probably remembering all of the times Jackie has gone off on him. 1000 years old and he's more afraid of a human mother than the monstrosities of the surrounding planets.
"Remind me again why I agreed to stay at your mother's for the holidays?" David murmers at last.
Rose can't contain her relieved smile. "Maybe it's cause you're gone on me," she suggests before leaning down and giving him a thorough snogging.
"You're too tempting for your own good," David agrees, responding enthusiastically to her kisses.
Rose giggles, choking on her own breath as he begins kissing down her neck and chest, slowly pulling down the fabric of her jumper.
"We're never gonna get out of here if you keep doing that," she chastises, even as she raises her hips to rub against his, suddenly finding that she needs the friction.
"Maybe I don't want to get out of here," David breathes, raising his head and staring at her. Rose is so caught up in the intensity of his gaze that she forgets to breathe, remembering only when the room begins to spin.
Rose feels the threads of control she's wrapped tightly about her begin to slip. They're kissing again, desperate now, and David is making noises that probably aren't meant to be seductive but are doing terrible, terrible things to her. Just as the last thread unravels and David's fingers reach for the hem of her jumper, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of her hips, a loud knock sounds on the door.
"Oi!" Jackie snaps from the other side of the door, her voice a grating contrast to the comforting solidity of David's body against Rose.
"Ignore her," David mutters, sucking at the skin of her throat.
Rose rolls her eyes and shoves half-heartedly at his chest. "Off, you," she orders, clambering off the bed before raising her voice. "What is it, Mum?" The cream sheets pool around her, held only by the tips of Rose's fingers. For a moment, Rose really misses the covers in her and David's bedroom and longs to burrow underneath them in all their TARDIS blue glory. Two more weeks, she tells herself.
"If the two of you are done getting your jollies, I've got tea on downstairs!" Jackie pauses. Then she adds, "Would've thought the two of you would have had enough after last night. Don't think I didn't hear that!"
David pales, face drooping to hide against Rose's cheek. Face burning, Rose manages to respond with, "Be down in a minute!"
"Oh, and Rose, you'd never believe me, but guess what Molly from across the courtyard told me?"
Rose heaves a frustrated sigh against her husband's shoulder. Old habits die hard, she supposes. She'd forgotten her Mum's tendency to go on about matters that had no significance in the least. Jackie had done the same thing at Powell Estates, always heading down the hall because she'd 'forgotten to buy a new set of measuring cups and I know Cas has a spare' or because 'I promised to watch Gretta's plants and they're wilting, can't Rose see?' Not much has changed here in the parallel world. Sure, Jackie and Pete have a bigger home - goodbye too-tiny flat - but it only means that Jackie has to walk a little further to get her daily fix.
It's gossip, pure and simple; maybe Rose is jaded after her adventures in space with the Doctor and her travels with David, where everything is an experience to be treasured and not torn apart with scornful words, but now she just finds it so petty. She used to be different, back before she met the Doctor. Back then, in an attempt to distance herself from the meals that came few and far between and the second-hand clothes, Rose had latched onto other lives, chuckling at their mistakes and ignoring the lump in her throat when she thought of her and Mum's own problems.
Rose shakes herself from her thoughts. David is looking at her curiously but she pretends not to see, not ready to discuss it with him yet.
"I've got to get dressed first, Mum," she calls out. "Be down in a 'mo."
Jackie says nothing, but Rose can feel her judgment seeping through the door. Oh well, it isn't like Rose is going to point out that she's still wearing clothes. Mum wouldn't believe her anyway.
Laughing to herself, Rose turns to face her husband and giggles all the more at what she finds. Hair rumpled and half the buttons on his shirt undone, David looks a sight. It's only made funnier by the range of expressions on his face, playing between horror, amusement and utter mortification.
"Just what every mother needs to know," Rose remarks lightly, releasing the sheets and letting them fall into a rumpled pile. "That her daughter is shagging someone right under her roof."
"An alien, at that," David adds, voice hoarse.
Rose approaches him, slipping her arms about his waist and pressing their foreheads together. "Half-alien," she corrects, grinning at him. "C'mon, why aren't you laughing? You're always the first one to laugh at a time like this!"
He sputters for a moment and Rose is reminded of her first Doctor, the way in which he'd thrown a hissy fit the first time he accidentally stumbled in on Rose in the shower. She'd stood there underneath the warm spray, clutching the curtain to her breasts as she wondered if she'd fallen asleep while showering again. His brooding exterior had cracked and he'd emitted a sort of wubbling noise, mouth dropping and eyes flying wide before, finally, he'd stumbled out. Rose still thinks the TARDIS had something to do with that incident, with the Doctor not hearing the shower running, because before that point the Doctor's hearing had been impeccable.
David is still sputtering and Rose decides on a favorable course of action within seconds. Reaching for the edge of her jumper, Rose pulls it up and over her head, revealing the fact that she hadn't worn a bra to bed. David's eyes fly to her chest immediately. His eyes get wider, if possible, and then narrow in a mix of suspicion and confusion. He thinks Rose is teasing him. She watches him, unable to keep herself from blushing but enjoying putting David off his game all the same.
"You - your top," David says after a moment of gawking.
"Yeah, I'd noticed," Rose comments off-handedly. "You're acting as though you haven't seen them before." She pushes forward and seats herself on his lap, the heat in the pit of her stomach coiling tighter and causing her to let out a soft pant.
David hears it; he always does. His arms snake out around Rose's waist as though he can't keep himself from touching her anymore. Rose hums as his lips descend on hers hungrily, fingers sweeping across her back. One hand slides up around her arm, his pointer finger brushing against Rose's collarbone, before capturing her chin in a loose grasp. Then they're staring at each other, Rose entranced by the way his pupils are swallowing the warm brown of his irises she's come to love.
"I need you," David says in little more than a growl.
Rose knows. She can feel the evidence of his need pressing impatiently in the hollow of her thighs. However, even as desire rages through her, Rose manages to press trembling fingers to David's mouth and murmer, "Later. My mum is waiting for us downstairs."
His mouth falls open again. Rose can't blame him; she's basically just dangled a carrot in front of his face and then snatched it away at the last minute.
"That's not fair," David whines, wriggling underneath her.
Bastard. He knows what that does to her. Rose clambers off his lap, knowing that if she doesn't then they won't be going anywhere for the next hour. She hurries toward the closet in the corner, grabbing an outfit and hurriedly stripping. She can feel David's eyes on her the whole time, drinking her in, and Rose can't keep herself from preening a little and thrusting her hips suggestively in her husband's direction. He's the picture of control until she breaks him down and Rose has learned to appreciate these moments when David is utterly wrecked.
"Too bad I have to go chat with Mum," Rose comments, tongue poking between her teeth. "I can think of much more creative things to do with my mouth."
David makes a strangled noise. "I hate you," he murmers roughly.
"Love you too," Rose answers cheerfully. She slides into her trousers, buttoning them before heading for the door.
Just before she closes the door behind her, Rose can't keep herself from glancing back at David. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her with a small smile on his face.
He raises an eyebrow, smile sliding into a smirk. "Reconsidering?"
Rose shakes her head, chuckling at him. Prat. But oh, how she loves him.
"Rude, and not ginger," she points out, pulling the door closed.
"Quite right, too," David says to her retreating back.
Rose is grinning widely as she descends the stairs, not even the thought of an afternoon wasted gossiping with her mother bringing down her mood. In moments like these, she's reminded that all of this is really simple when it comes down to it. There might be two of him, but in the end he's really the same man, and she loves him. Will always love him.
Pausing in the entrance to the kitchen, Rose thinks of her Doctor, the one with two hearts.
Same old life, in the TARDIS, she remembers easily, welcoming the familiar ache in her heart that comes with missing him. Hope you're not traveling alone.
It's worth it, the missing him, because Rose has got a part of him right here, right upstairs.
It's worth it because he asked her twice.
Hope you're safe.
I love you.