Just a bit of Nine/Rose fun times in the console room with some Jackie and TARDIS meddling for good measure. AU a bit...Bad Wolf happened and Nine's still around...mostly because I don't want to let him go. =)
For the lovely Larx as she has two finals tomorrow and the wonderful Calli as she celebrates her birthday!
Rose Tyler was dragging her feet.
It wasn't that she wasn't ready to go. No, she'd been ready for almost fifteen minutes now, her hair carefully curled and elegantly styled, her dress a perfect styling of classy and sexy (and very comfortable - thank you 42nd century), and her makeup artfully applied. For the hundredth time, she looked over her appearance in the floor-length mirror in her room.
No doubt about it...she looked good.
And she should be excited about that, right? Almost three years of daily running-for-her-life and a healthy dose of Bad Wolf, has left her fit and lean, and she and the brilliant TARDIS have done quite the job on this stockings-dress-accessories ensemble. The coral around the mirror glowed brighter at her, cooing to Rose in her mind, trying to assure her and calm her nerves.
Ha! Calm her nerves. She's faced down alien armies and vicious dictators and surly Time Lords who haven't had their morning tea. Surely she can handle a family wedding.
Anyway, isn't this just the way a girl wants to finally see the family, friends and exes after being away for a long time...thinner, prettier, richer (well - psychic paper-er) and happier? Doing great deeds and travelling unique places, all on the arm of a devastating attractive older bloke?
Her mother had called yesterday to gossip (Bev's new man has been married three times already), to complain about the Doctor (all of himself's brainiac alien knowledge and all the time in the universe and he can't be arsed to stop by and fix her washing machine?) , and to chew Rose out about not coming home more often. The chewing out, however, had lasted much longer than usual, with Jackie pointing out that it had been almost a year since Rose had come to a family function. (It's actually been more like two years to Rose, but she wasn't about to tell Jackie that). The last time had been a baby shower for her second cousin and she'd really only gone because a certain Time Lord had gotten her home a year late and her family had been worried sick. Back then, she'd argued that her mum had deserved Rose spending some extra time with her and the Doctor had gruffly agreed before disappearing into the depths of the TARDIS for two entire days.
She was fairly certain that he'd done that to ensure he wouldn't be dragged into anything even remotely resembling domestics. She snorted. Like she would have brought him to a baby shower.
(What she didn't know was that while he'd hidden and sulked, he had been nursing the desperate fear that she would decide to stay in that normal human world of weddings and babies, worried that when he finally emerged it would be for her last goodbye.)
Rose was fairly certain he was going to pull another disappearing act today as well. After her mum had pulled an agreement from Rose to come to the wedding, she had demanded to speak with the Doctor, which Rose had eventually caved to as well, mostly because Jackie had just kept incessantly calling and calling and calling until she'd annoyed Rose into compliance.
She hadn't been able to hear what her mother had said to the Time Lord, but his expression had grown steadily more blank and calm as the one-sided conversation wore on, the stark lines of his face standing out, his blue eyes looking like the glassy repose of an ocean just before a storm as he listened, avoiding eye contact with Rose. He'd not said a single word (a miracle in itself - usually Rose could barely get a word in edgewise when the two of them were snarking at each other) and then he'd flipped the mobile shut, forced it at her, jerked some levers on the console, gave her instructions to get ready and stormed away.
So, yes, it was the Doctor's fault she was dragging her feet. He'd been in such a wonderful mood before that phone call, laughing with her, flirting with her, teasing her and telling her about the next place he had planned for them to visit (Ronaldia - where the skies were pink, the food was excellent and the natives looked like pastel-colored zebras). It had sounded wonderful and, she would have once thought, romantic.
But she'd (recently) decided to hang up that idea about the Doctor. They fit together in every way she could possibly imagine (well - all right...except that way - not that she hadn't spent an inordinate amount of thinking about it). They laughed, they flirted, they chatted, and they ran. They felt like two pieces of a puzzle, hands always intertwined, leaning on each other for support and comfort and joy. And yes, sometimes he was rude and sometimes she was ignorant. Sometimes he shut her out completely and sometimes she pushed him too hard. Sometimes he just wanted to yell at her and sometimes she just wanted to yell back.
And sometimes hugs lasted a bit too long - lean, strong arms locked around her, a solid chest pressed against hers, the smell of him permeating her every breath. And sometimes gazes held just a bit too much fire - bright blue eyes full of darkly held passion locked with warm hazel full of adoration. But those moments, as heady as they were, always passed by with a wave of want from her and no action from him, so she had learned just to enjoy them for the instant and never read anything more into them, never hope for something that he would not willing (or able) to give.
She loved this life, loved this ship and loved that man and if that's all he could give her, she would take it. She'd hold his hand until the end of the universe and back again and if he was never going to be her boyfriend, that would be all right. He was better than that, anyway, and so, she hoped, was she.
But still, it was going to be hard today. Every family member she'd ever met (and probably a number of those she hadn't - it sounded as if Julia had invited every person she'd ever met to this wedding) was going to be quizzing Rose about her life and her disappearance and her future and her bloke and she was going to spend the next eight to ten hours spinning lies and explaining that no, the Doctor was not here, no, he was not coming and no, she was not shagging him.
Plus, Jimmy and Mickey were probably going to be there as well and although Rose had accepted the status of her relationship with the Doctor, Mickey would be an arse about it and Jimmy would have with him some gorgeous, model-thin floozy who he'd manipulated into supporting him and would probably be making disparaging remarks about how lousy she was in bed and how he was the one who dumped her and good thing too, look she was here, nearly twenty-four and couldn't even find a date to a wedding.
Rose sighed, heavily. One day. She could handle one day for her mum and then she'd come back, coax the Doctor out of wherever he'd gone to hide and they'd go to Ronaldia like the best mates that they were.
She looked in the mirror one last time, making sure her stockings were on straight, her hair was (still) perfect and yes - this was a fantastic dress. It's really too bad she wasn't on the pull. This dress would make it absurdly easy. Anyway, the Doctor wouldn't even notice, she figured. Carrying her heels in her hand (no sense in twisting an ankle on the grating - she'd put them on right by the door), Rose grabbed her small clutch and walked to the console room.
"Doctor -" she called out before she was even in the room, knowing he probably wouldn't be there (too busy hiding) but feeling like she should say goodbye anyway. The TARDIS would carry her voice to wherever he was sulking, and this way he'd know she was gone. "I'm leaving now. I'm meeting Mum up at the flat and then we're driving there together. Not sure how long I'll be expected to stay...it'll probably be late when I'm back. Don't wait up!" she added, chuckling slightly at her own joke. Like he'd be asleep. "And don't do anyth- guh."
"Anyth-guh?" came a teasing, Northern voice that sounded an awful lot like the Doctor's but couldn't possibly be because that COULD NOT be the Doctor.
He was wearing a suit. A proper suit. With a black waistcoat and a black oxford and a black tie - a tie with dark red swirls on it. A tie with dark red swirls on it that MATCHED HER DRESS. She was fairly certain her jaw was somewhere in the vicinity Brighton, her eyes had left her head and her mind had flown off for an extended holiday in fantasy-land. She must have gone crackers. Somewhere in between her mother's nagging and thoughts of irritatingly inquisitive relatives, she'd lost her mind. Eaten an alien hallucinogen. Fallen asleep.
Because this could not be real.
"Not sure what 'anyth-guh' is or why you don't fancy me doing it, but I s'pose I can humour you," he replied, still teasing and still looking very amused (and edible) in that suit.
"What are you wearing?" she finally managed to squeak out, not even bothering to look embarrassed at the break in her voice. Rose was fairly certain she only had the cognitive ability to do one other thing in addition to keeping herself from shagging him senseless against the console and her body had apparently decided that breathing was more important than holding her voice steady.
"A suit," he replied, giving her his best 'you-silly-ape', face. "Modern day torture device created in a period of sartorial revolution during the early 19th century?" he continued as she stayed silent.
Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the console, he grinned at her, a slow, sensual smirk she didn't think she'd ever seen before "What's the matter? Never seen a man in a suit before?"
"I - men - you," she stammered and was that a flash of insecurity there in his gaze? "You don't wear suits," Rose said, with conviction, still trying to find her tongue (or at least keep her tongue in her mouth and not on his neck. Or his ear. Or in his mouth).
Ooo, she really needed to stop that line of thought.
Anyway, that was true enough. They've travelled together for over three years and she's never once seen him a suit. She considered a biweekly sighting of him jacket-less to be a triumph.
"Your mother threatened me," he replied, sniffing slightly. "She told me if I showed up in jeans, she'd forcefully strip 'em off me and if I showed up in my leather jacket that'd she'd burn it. Not that she could. Jarnian Leather, that is. But the point still stands," he continued, looking deeply offended now. "My jacket, Rose."
That'd do it. He did love that jacket.
"Did she?" Rose asked faintly, still very confused by this situation.
"She also made some very graphic threats on a few of my bits that I'd rather keep just the way they are, thanks very much. Impressive, you know," he continued, waiting for her to casually flirt back with him but Rose still hadn't recovered from him even mentioning his bits, much less be able to come back with a witty comment.
"Rose?" he said, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze and she would bet thirty Altairian dollars that if he had his jacket on, he'd be pulling at the lapels. "Is this alright?" he asked, quietly, and there was that curious vulnerability again.
"Yeah," she replied automatically, her brain and her own bits providing that answer quite quickly. "But...you...you're coming with me?"
His nervous expression turned wicked a moment and Rose was sure he was going to make the obvious crude response but then he simply shifted back so he was leaning against the console again (good thing too, she couldn't be held responsible for her actions if he'd said it). " 'Course I am," he said, his voice once again full of confidence and, again, giving her his best 'stupid-ape' face.
It was that casual, instinctual arrogance of his battering against her Tyler-woman pride that finally broke her suited-Doctor-induced-haze.
"What do you mean 'of course you are'?" Rose exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at him "You don't do any of...any of this, this stuff! In fact, you run as fast as you can, as far as you can, at even the mention of any 'stuff' you think, in the moment, might possibly have anything to do with the 'd' word."
"Do not," the Doctor replied, his voice just as childish as the response warranted.
"Yes, you do! I asked you to take the trash out of the kitchen and put it in the bins the other day and you disappeared on me. For three hours," Rose said, shaking a finger at him. He opened his mouth and then shut it once more, at least having the grace to look a bit embarrassed at being called out on that. Because apparently taking out the trash was 'domestic'. Never mind that she'd cooked him breakfast, he'd fed her some of his eggs off his plate with his fork and that they'd flirted incessantly over the bacon.
"You cannot come with me," Rose said, firmly, and, to her surprise, another flash of hurt went by across his face before it was replaced by the front of his indignation.
"And why not?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. Ah, perhaps that hadn't been the best way to phrase that. If she knew anything about the Doctor (and she did), telling him he couldn't do something was just about the most certain way to make him do it (or at least try).
"Because," she retorted, turning away from him to put her heels on by the door. There was only one thing she could think of that would be worse than spending the day fending off questions about her (non-existent) sex life with the Doctor from overzealous relatives and that was spending the day fending off questions about her (non-existent) sex life with the Doctor from overzealous relatives...with the Doctor present.
Plus, she would not be responsible if, at some point in the evening, she tried to rip that suit off him using only her teeth.
"Oh yeah, Rose. That's an excellent argument," he mocked and she heard him stand up and prowl closer to her. Of course, if she'd been turned around, she also would have seen the hungry gaze currently fastened on her bum as she bent over her shoes. " 'Because'. Nope, try again."
"You'd hate it," she said, trying to appeal (for once) to his domestic-phobic side, shifting to the other leg, and wobbling a bit as she attempted to hook the latch one-handed.
"Maybe," he said, shrugging and then surprising her as he dropped to his knees to hook her shoe for her. He looked her right in the eye then, asking for silent permission and a head nod from her before he touched her feet, which she gave automatically. Rose couldn't help her involuntary gasp then, seeing the Doctor, kneeling in front of her in that bloody gorgeous suit, his cool fingers carefully moving over her feet. She was doing her level best to ignore the effect he had on her but she couldn't quite get the hang of it (they were mates, they would only ever be mates, and she was fine with it. Really). Nor could she help the rush of heat through her body that gathered in a very inconvenient place (a place currently right in front of the Doctor's face - not that that thought was helping anything) and he suddenly looked up at her, and was she imagining that his nostrils had flared and his eyes were a shade darker than normal? Or that his own (superior, of course) respiratory system had just hitched as well?
"But it's important to you," he replied, slowly, running his fingers over her stocking-covered shin before standing up, holding her eye contact the entire time, just millimeters from her. She was going to kiss him. She definitely couldn't help it.
Rose was getting lost in his (definitely darkened) eyes when her memory of the day's earlier events hit her like a bucket of cold water and she groaned. "Oh, Mum's blackmailing you, isn't she?" Rose asked, falling back against the door of the TARDIS and letting her head thunk against the wood, shutting her eyes. That was the only thing that made sense.
If they were playing a game of 'the only thing worse', now it was that the only thing worse than going to a wedding without a date was going to a wedding with a date - who happened to be your nine-hundred year old, platonic alien best mate and who was being blackmailed. By your mother.
She did have to wonder what Jackie Tyler could possibly be holding over the Doctor to make him comply, but if anyone could find something to hold over one of the most powerful beings in the universe, it would be her mother.
"Rose," the Doctor huffed, sounding...frustrated. That was odd. Why was he frustrated with her? She felt his large hand move to her chin, pulling until she finally relented and tipped her head forward, opening her eyes to meet his. She found him much closer than she'd expected and, once again, (unsuccessfully) fought a wave of heat at his proximity.
Shaking her head slightly, she focused back on his frustration not her longing. Then again, why shouldn't he sound like that? He probably was frustrated with her. After all, it was her mum who was causing him the inconvenience of having to attend this stupid human mating ritual with her, after all.
And, well, fine She had been trying to ignore it, trying to pretend like it wasn't important to her, trying to see going to this stupid wedding (alone) as the trivial, human custom she knew it probably was to him, but she was, after all, human and, dammit, it was important to her and she was allowed to feel that way if she wanted.
Rose took another deep breath and closed her eyes, missing the Doctor's appreciative look down at her heaving chest, before opening them again. Rose needed to make him understand. If he came with her, he was going to be very uncomfortable. All her great aunts were going to pinch his (admittedly fantastic) bum, all her cousins were going to bother her about whether or not that old rule about if a man's large hands reflected any other bits on his body (didn't she wish she knew) and Jimmy, well, actually, Jimmy could just sod off because the Doctor could definitely beat the tar out of him. That part might actually be fun. "They're all going to think you're my bloke, Doctor," Rose said, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of her nose. Surely that would send him running.
Instead, soft blue eyes peered at her from a face that was still a bit close to hers, tilted slightly to the side. "Aren't I?" he asked, softly.
Rose's jaw dropped back down to Bristol.
"What?" she managed.
He didn't respond, just continued to gaze down at her, head still tilted, maddeningly calm and frustratingly close. "But...you. You're not..." she began. "What?"
"Yeah, I am," the Doctor answered, moving his hands to rest lightly on her hips, to Rose's continued astonishment. "Have been since, oh, about 'there's me'. I've been waiting on you," he continued and Rose's brain abruptly tried to short out.
"What?" she repeated.
His hands tightened momentarily on her hips and a small smile twitched at his lips. "You sound ridiculous repeating yourself like that," he teased. Then he looked more serious. "I've been waiting on you to be ready. Very patiently, I might add," he said, with a pointed look at her. "A couple's made of two, you know, Rose."
Once again, it was his casual arrogance that broke her stupor. "We're not a couple!" she blurted and there was that flash of pain in his eyes again.
His hands came off her hips then (and it was all she could do not to chase after them) and crossed over his chest. "Are so."
"Are not -" she began and then sighed, her hand going back to the bridge of her nose again. She wasn't going to let him pull her into one of those childish arguments again. Wait...why was she arguing with him? Taking a deep breath, Rose realized it was going to have to be her duty to inform him of proper human mating rituals because clearly, he was confused. "Doctor, couples go out -, "
"Took you to Aniealf just yesterday. Watched a beautiful sunset 'til that mob came after us," he interrupted, his arms still crossed over his chest.
"Get pets - ,"Rose continued as if he hadn't said anything.
"We had a weasel. S'name was Adam and we got rid of him right quick," the Doctor snarked.
"Fight over in-laws -,"
"Called your mother a nosy harpy just this morning," he replied with one of his widest, most charming grins. "And had a bit of a spat with your father in 1987. Don't have any parents, meself...suppose I could take you to meet Alistair. He'd love that," the Doctor snorted. "You and Doris would get on like houses, I suspect. Mind you - "
"And SHAG, Doctor. Couples. Shag," Rose shouted over his rant, exasperated.
"Thought you'd never ask," he muttered then, surging forward and pinning Rose back against the door faster than she could say "What?" again.
His mouth was on hers, hard and insistent, his hands were buried in her blonde tresses and she squeaked at him but she couldn't resist against the torrent of his passion (not that she wanted to anyway but what the hell was going on?). Her own grip came up to his upper arms, holding on for dear life as he snogged her like it was an olympic sport. Several long, wet moments later, he pulled back minutely and Rose thought that it might be for an explanation of some sort, but it was really just to let her gasp in some air before he dove back in again, his tongue joining the fray this time. She opened her mouth automatically to him and he made a long, low moan of appreciation that she was certain was the sexiest sound that had ever been uttered. As his tongue darted into her mouth, over teeth and - oh - the roof of her mouth, his hips apparently decided to join in as well because then, just as suddenly as he'd begun kissing her, just as suddenly as she'd had his tongue in her mouth, she was being rhythmically pressed against the door by more than just his pelvis. Far more, if the sensations her body was sending her brain translated to anything.
Finally, her hands made it off his biceps to his chest and the next time he pulled away for a breath, she pushed against him a bit. He seemed to get the message then and stumbled back from her, looking dazed (and boy, she was a bit proud of that) and rather confused. Well, that made two of them. His eyes were dark, his chest was moving rapidly and she couldn't help it. Her eyes darted down beneath his belt and whoa, her fantasies had not done him justice and that was with him still in his trousers. Rose felt another wave of heat surge through her and licked her lips unconsciously before she managed, "Doctor - what?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head a moment as though to clear it. "I'm, we're going to - aren't we? S'what you said a moment ago. S'all new to me, but I've been waiting and I thought you were ready. You're ready, aren't you?" the Doctor asked, peering at her inquisitively with that mysterious edge of uncertainty in his blue eyes.
Rose flushed bright red at that, shifting her thighs together as the evidence of just how ready she was soaked her knickers. "I -" she started but he waved his hand and cut her off.
"I don't mean like that," he said, trying for an off-hand manner but failing a bit as he nostrils flared and he licked his own lips. "I can tell you're ready physically. I can smell you," he continued, matter-of-factly, tapping the side of his nose and Rose's jaw dropped again. "But been around a long time, me. A readiness for physical intimacy doesn't translate to a readiness for emotional intimacy, especially in humans. Randy lot, you apes, dumping pheromones about left and right. And it happens ridiculously often, you know. You -" he pointed a long finger at her, still pressed against the door, "got a bit aroused the very first time we met. In that service lift. With a dangerous stranger and a bunch of murderous Autons after you. And you certainly weren't ready for a relationship with me then. 'Course, neither was I," he finished, his face darkening and then lightening, smiling at her affectionately.
"You weren't ready for a relationship with you, either?" Rose teased, willing herself past her bafflement and embarrassment (all right, she had been a little aroused then, but there had been the adrenaline and the small space and the man with the really fantastic bum).
"No, actually," he said, his gaze darkening a moment. "Didn't like anyone much then, especially myself. But then you came along." The Doctor paused a moment then, his hands reaching down to entwine with hers, squeezing slightly. "And I found myself...wanting things I've never wanted before."
"Like sex?" Rose blurted out.
"No," the Doctor replied, quickly and Rose frowned back at him, her gaze once again flickering below his belt. He, to her absolute delight, flushed a bit and then shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, I mean. But not just - wait. D'you just want to have sex with me?" His frown deepened then and and he made a motion as if to let go of her hands, moving to distance them further if necessary.
She clung to his fingers tighter and peered up at him, trying to gauge where in the universe this conversation was going. "I - I mean...not 'just'," she managed, testing the waters, trying to see what he wanted. "I want…" she trailed off, studying his anachronistic tie intently.
"What do you want, Rose?" he breathed, moving incrementally closer to her, just a small shift, just a fraction closer.
"You," she replied honestly, shifting her warm, hazel eyes up to meet his desperately hopeful blue ones. "Anything you can give me. Everything. Just...you."
His smile lit up the whole console room then, his melancholy forgotten as he lifted her up into his arms and spun her around once. "Fantastic! S'what I've been waiting for!" The Doctor laughed then and Rose laughed with him, surprised when he darted in again for a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back to beam down at her.
"Yeah?" Rose asked, sliding down his body but keeping her arms around his neck.
"Yeah," he answered, quietly, looking down at her again with that expression that seemed as though the sun came up and went down in her eyes. "I don't deserve you," the Doctor said, quieter still, his hand coming up to run along her jaw, a touch Rose pressed into.
"I love you," she responded, simply. His head jerked up and she caught incredulity in his expression before it settled into another smirking smile.
"I know. Your mother told me," he replied before moving his mouth to her neck, his tongue tracing along her collarbone as she tried to form a coherent response to that.
As it was, all she managed was, "What?"
"Don't start that again," he murmured into her neck, making her shiver as his cool breath and cooler mouth continued along her skin until reaching the opposite side. "I've been doing a lot of research," he began and Rose wondered why she thought a seduction (now that she knew what it was) by the Doctor would be any different than one of his normal endeavors. Research and lecturing. "Been reading lots of stuff about human relationships. Timing, rituals, traditions, biology. In the end though, an' please don't ever make me say it again, it took your mum to set me straight."
"Why do you keep talking about my mum?" Rose asked, a bit dazed, as his tongue languidly made its way lower on her chest.
"Good point," he murmured with a very sexy little chuckle that vibrated through Rose and made her want him to make that sound all the time. His head came up suddenly then, his eyes deep and his face serious, his hands tight and insistent on her hips and Rose thought she was going to get whiplash from the speed of his emotional shifts. "I want this, Rose. I want you, precious girl. But I want all of it. I may be rubbish at some of it - taking out the trash, telling when you're mad at me, remembering second cousins' birthdays and there're no picket fences in our future, no mortgages, no carpets, no...no babies. S'why I waited. I wanted you to be sure. You….you are sure, aren't you?".
" 'Course I'm sure, you daft man. I love you, remember?" she replied, hands moving to frame his face, trying to assure him of her feelings. The wonder on his face at her assurance of love both made her infinitely happy and very sad. Happy that he knew now, that it was in the open, sad that he felt so unworthy of such an emotion. She'd thought about all that human stuff and she'd made her choice a long time ago. She was never going to leave him.
"Ok, then," he answered, meeting her gaze for a long, charged moment before he shot forward again, his lips seeking hers. Her arms moved to his neck instantly and his hand snaked around to the back of her thigh, prompting her to wrap it around his leg so each of them had a thigh to press against, as if they'd already done this dance a million times.
They both groaned as their hips shifted and met mutual friction and the Doctor's hand ventured further up her thigh, encountering the strap of her stocking as he went. He pulled back from their scorching kiss then, apparently wanting to add the visual to what his fingertips indicated. "These are very naughty, Rose," he whispered darkly, his eyes trained on where his fingers were stroking the black fabric. It wasn't hard for Rose to figure out that he was caught between lust and jealousy that she might have worn them hoping for someone else. He could be a possessive bastard.
She liked that. Most of the time.
"It was wishful thinking," she admitted. "I didn't ever think you'd actually see 'em."
"I see them now," he growled. "And, sexy as they are, they've got to go." And then, with his very clever fingers, suddenly both of her suspenders were unhooked and his thumb was tracing the edge of her skimpy, lacy knickers, so close to where she wanted him. His other hand was working its way up her torso, closing in on her caged breasts and his mouth dropped to her neck, pressing kisses along her sternum. She squirmed in his firm hold, her back solid against the wooden door of the TARDIS, as his thumb finally got brave enough to dart under the elastic edge, just encountering dark curls and the outer edge of the wetness waiting for him before retreating and then returning with a few friends to join the party. At the contact, he moaned into her neck, matching her sound for sound and pushing his hips into her thigh, grinding his hardness into her for some relief.
One of her hands stayed on the back of his neck, dragging through the short hairs there while the other went down to grasp his frankly fantastic arse, pulling him into her again, when he began to murmur frantically into her skin, "I want to taste you, Rose. All of you. I'm going to spend hours worshipping every centimeter of this gorgeous body." As he spoke his fingers got more adventurous, first one and then two, slipping into her, to the first knuckle and then all the way, tentatively at first and then with more force as her moans got louder, his thumb moving to press against her clit after a particularly loud shout of his name.
Rose was almost entirely lost in his dark, sinful words and the feel of his cool fingers deep inside her until she realized there was a small, growing damp patch on the front of his lovely trousers as he ground against her thigh and wouldn't she like to feel hard length instead in her hand, to chase the beads of precum she was sure were there with her own thumb? She brought her hands around to the front of him, grazing along his chest to feel the desperate tattoo of his rapidly beating hearts and the way he shivered under her touch, even through his unusual outfit of jacket, shirt and waistcoat even as she bucked against his hand. The gorgeous suit she'd been so admiring just a few moments ago now was an irritating deterrent to seeking fingers that wanted to feel his cool skin. Her hands kept moving until they finally found the fastening to his trousers, which she quickly set about releasing. When she did, he made a very relieved sound, moving his hips back from her thigh incrementally so she could open the now probably very confining fabric only to find...nothing underneath. Well, that was promising.
However, when she reached down to finally touch him, the hand that had been arousingly massaging her right breast, shot down to clasp fingers with her instead and his other hand, which had been systematically trying to short out the pleasure centers in her brain stalled as well. Her thigh dropped from around his leg, dislodging his fingers and that hand immediately went to grasp her hip as his forehead came down to hers, both of them gasping for air.
"Wait, just - I" he took a deep breath and pulled back a bit to look her in the eye. "A bit out of practice, me, at least with someone's hand other than mine," he said, flushing mightily at that, and then groaning as Rose let out a whimper at that picture. He cleared his throat. "Don't want, ah…" he trailed off, his eyes moving from hers.
Rose smiled at him, squeezing the fingers entwined with hers. "Take all the time you need," she said, even as part of her wished he'd just pin her against the door and shag her senseless.
"That's just it, Rose," he replied. "I had plans. Did research. D'you know how many erogenous zones a female human has? Because I do," the Doctor growled at her. "But all that's flying out our transdimensional windows right now because all I can think about is taking you against this door. Hard and fast. And now."
Rose blinked at him and he stared at her intently, once again trying to read what was behind her thoughts. Well, she could clear that up. "Now's good. Let's do now," she breathed, moving her hands up to link behind his neck.
"But -"
"Later, Doctor. Next time. And the time after that," Rose answered, shifting forward to trap his erection between their still-far-too-clothed bodies.
"Yeah?" he asked, distractedly, one of his large hands moving to her lower back, encouraging her to arch against him and provide him that friction again, mesmerized by the feeling of it.
"Yeah," she answered. "Now fuck me, Doctor."
He gave her his slow, smouldering smile once more back in control. "Your wish is my command," he whispered and, just like that, his dominant, aggressive side was back and he was possessing her, claiming her, tasting every corner of her mouth. And then, somehow, her knickers were gone, her legs were hitched up around his waist, one hand spanning her arse and the other on his cock, poised to slide home within her wet heat.
Their eyes met another long, charged moment and that's all it took for him to shove forward inside her, groaning at the tight, hot fit as she keened his name. The hand that had been on his hard, stiff length moved to set up a faltering rhythm against her clit as the two of them worked to find their synchronicity.
It didn't, of course, take them long because they were both brilliant and together they could figure out nearly anything, shagging included, apparently. Not that either of them would mind practicing, Rose thought. No, in fact, she was going to insist on it.
Both his hands went to her arse for more leverage and her fingers moved to the rhythm she needed and they both moaned and clutched and swore. He murmured encouragements, benedictions and compliments into her neck (she always knew he'd be a talker) as his movements became faster and more erratic and his words fell away to just her name, called again and again in the echoing cavern of the console room.
If she'd been in a position to notice, she would have heard herself shouting back to him, nearly hoarse with passion, but as it was, all she could think about was the delicious slide of him deep inside her and the smell of him all around her. Her fingers slipped down, brushing against the base of his cock on his next hard thrust and his whole body stiffened, his head thrown back, neck muscles clenched as he called out to her and came inside her, grinding his pelvis against her. It was the sight of him, so overcome in the throes of his passion that pushed her over the final precipice, shuddering in time with his pulses, the two of them lost in each other.
Rose had been just about to pick her head up off his shoulder to kiss him again when there suddenly came a loud banging immediately on the other side of the TARDIS door, the sound carried to them by the sensors outside, followed very quickly by Jackie Tyler's voice, shocking both of them so much that the Doctor lost his balance and toppled to the grating, taking Rose down with him.
"Oi! You two! Get your bums out here! God only knows what kinky alien things you're up to in that silly box, but we are going to be late. And I'm not explaining to your grandmother why! C'mon, then, shift! I'll meet you at the car. Five minutes!" she shouted, pounding on the door again for good measure.
"She couldn't hear -" Rose began.
"No!" the Doctor interjected, looking horrified.
"Good." Rose relaxed and then took a good look down at the two of them. The Doctor was sprawled out on his back, trousers open, gorgeous suit rumpled and a damp patch growing from where she was straddling his thigh, the evidence of their coupling cooling there. She was rumpled, still wearing her shoes, stockings falling down, knickers gone (oh, up there on the console, actually), dress hiked up around her waist.
And she began to giggle. The Doctor soon joined her, his deep baritone boom resonating with her own laughter until they were clutching one another in an entirely different way than they had been mere moments ago. He stumbled to his feet first, clutching his side and pulling Rose up flush against him, burying his laughter in her hair with a few kisses, too. It seemed so effortless now, including that little intimacy within their normal camaraderie. "We look a right mess," Rose giggled into his shoulder.
"You're right," he laughed, finally pulling back from her, mostly to appreciate her tousled, just-shagged look. He'd done that, after all. Reaching over past her shoulder, he plucked her ruined knickers off the controls, holding the tiny piece of fabric between his fingers, contemplating them as he spoke. "You know, we can't go out there looking like this," he said, slowly, peering up at her slyly over the black lace. "And she did say five minutes."
"And this is a time machine," Rose replied, returning his impish smile. "Five minutes to her…"
"An hour in the Vortex?" he said, hopefully.
"Oh, I'm going to need much more than an hour, Time Lord," Rose replied, moving forward and tugging his tie free, using it to pull him toward her and feeling him harden in response. "Much, much more."
"Fantastic," he murmured, crashing his lips to hers and reaching behind her for the dematerialization lever.