Teacher's Pet

Ten/Rose Fanfic

"Good morning, class." The Doctor peered at the group of university students from behind his glasses. Rose sighed from her seat in the back row. "Are we sitting comfortably?" A small rumbling of murmured, incoherent responses rose from the group. The Doctor cavalierly stuck his hands in the pockets of his pinstriped suit and glanced out an open window at the darkening sky. "Welcome to what I hope is your last class of the day, History 101." Rose smiled to herself. History. The one subject he knew way, way too much about. "What year is this again? Twenty-ten?" The class looked bewildered as the Doctor furrowed his brow and glanced up at the ceiling, tapping his foot. "Oh, twenty-ten. Rubbish year, twenty-ten. Almost as boring as thirty-ten, ironically." Rose could almost feel the group of chavs in front of her blink with confusion. The Doctor looked up, and glanced at Rose. She cast him a look as if to say, 'You're doing it again!' and he swiftly resumed speaking.

Oh boy, I just can't wait for history class.

It's my favourite hour of the day.

"I am your new professor, and you may call me," he paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, "Mr. Watson." It was Rose's turn to be surprised. He almost always used the alias John Smith, and this wasn't the first time he had masqueraded as a school teacher. She glanced at the Doctor's briefcase, lying on his sturdy oak desk. A 'Sherlock Holmes' novel, placed precisely in the center of the briefcase, caught Rose's eye. Ah, She thought. Watson. Mr. Watson. I get it. Rose rolled her eyes and wondered why he didn't fancy himself more of a Holmes. I guess 'Mr. Holmes' would've been a bit too obvious.

The Doctor and Rose ended up investigating this university on pure chance. Originally, they had intended on merely dropping in on London so Rose could get an order of her favourite fish and chips. But, the ever-distracted Doctor got the coordinates slightly off, and they ended up…here. Just their luck, though, the university was plagued with a bit of a Slitheen problem; it seemed that the Dean of Admissions had a burning taste for human flesh. So, here Rose sat, playing teacher and student with the Doctor. She yawned. History was always her worst class in college. Even more awful now, I'm not getting any credit for this. What a ridiculous alias.

"Now, class. Where should we begin? The Magna Carta? Shakespeare? The Roman Revolution of 3178? Princess Di? Liz 4?" Dull silence. A pencil rolled off a desk somewhere in the lower rows of students. "Oh, bugger, not used to doing it in order." The Doctor hit his forehead with his palm. "Stupid!" The boy sitting next to Rose leaned over, glanced casually down her cleavage, then whispered, "Is he mad? He seems absolutely mental." Rose slowly zipped up her hooded sweatshirt and considered the Doctor at the front of the lecture hall. He ran his freckled fingers through that ridiculously thick head of hair, then grabbed a piece of chalk and exclaimed "Jesus!"

The class stared expectantly. "No, I mean…we'll start with Jesus." Rose snorted out a quiet giggle. "Everything before that's just dull, anyway." He leapt over the desk to the chalkboard and began scribbling notes. Rose leaned her shoulders back over to the boy beside her and whispered, "A bit mad, yeah."

Up on the chalkboard I just love your ass,

When you write notes, that shake shake shake.

Rose settled back into her seat, watching pages in notebooks flip open and laptop screens light up as the Doctor etched out notes on the cultural impact of Christianity on the board. She felt her eyes drift downwards, examining the Doctor's arse. She had always thought he had a perfect ass, all chiseled and flexing muscle as he leaned his hips against the board. It was strangely erotic, and Rose found herself undressing him with her eyes. Her intense desire to be pinned between the chalkboard and his lean, slender body made Rose blush upon awareness that she was in a room full of people. She glanced around to see if anyone was staring at her as she crossed her legs, her black skirt and leggings bunching slightly as she did so. The Doctor finished his rapid note taking and spun around.

So when you get back my pop quiz,

What will you think when you read this?

"Jesus Christ!" He exclaimed. "It's a name many of you know, and a name I rarely use." The Doctor gave a cocky smile. "Unless, of course, in moments of extreme frustration, or extreme satisfaction." That got a laugh. Rose felt her face turn hot; it was as though he had read her mind. The very thought of the Doctor being inside her head as she revisited her innermost fantasies made her drift back into daydreams. The Doctor continued lecturing animatedly, but she paid his words no mind. She sized him up from head to toe, to…other parts, taking notice of his long legs, perfectly kissable lips, and the obvious bulge in the front of his trousers. I won't lie, it makes me wonder… Rose thought to herself. She watched the Doctor gesture wildly. What I wouldn't give to have him right here, right now. Rose glanced around the room. All she saw as she surveyed the class was rapid typing and hurried scribing. Very carefully, Rose slid her pencil off her desk, lowered her hands into her lap, and wedged the pencil between her legs, slowly teasing herself through her leggings. She bit her tongue to keep from moaning. The Doctor paused from lecturing to lick his lips slightly and straighten his tie. Rose shivered with pleasure. The things those lips could do to her. She imagined his lips on her breasts, planting kisses down her neck and on her breastbone as his fingers grabbed and scratched roughly; the perfect mixture of pleasure and force.

Mr. Watson, I want to get with you.

I won't tell a soul what we're gonna do.

Want to get my hands down your khaki pants.

Teacher, teacher, what'cha gonna do?

'Cause I am coming on to you.

Suddenly, the Doctor caught her eye, and she jolted upright, throwing her pencil back onto her desk and trying desperately to smile winningly. Goddamn it, almost caught. She scowled. Now she had quite a bit of unfinished business to attend to eventually. And, oh, how she would like the Doctor to help attend to it with her. As the Doctor smiled back at her – Those perfect lips, oh goodness, help me. – Rose couldn't help but imagine how deliciously sexy it would be to grope him, kiss him, undress him here in the classroom. She couldn't figure out what about that hypothetical situation turned her on so much. Probably the concept that at any moment, we could be caught. Mr. Watson and his little blonde schoolgirl Rose, making the beast with two backs against the walls of the lecture hall. She squirmed with anticipation, her arousal nearly impossible to deal with.

Can't put my finger on what's so sexy.

Or why I want you in my bed (or on your desk).

Is it your power, your authority?

Or just the thrill of being so, so bad?

In her mind's eye, Rose saw it all. Walking up to him as the last student left the room, grabbing his perfect face, staring into those warm chocolate eyes, and kissing him deeper than she'd ever kissed anyone before. She could see him, shocked at first, then wrapping his arms around her tightly. Sitting in the lecture hall, she could practically feel his strong, warm arms embracing her. In her head, she felt his silk tie coming off of his neck in her hands, his jacket being thrown to the floor, the buttons on his shirt fighting her fingers in vain. She felt him desperately unzipping her sweatshirt, pulling her camisole over her head as she slid her hands down his trousers. Even though she was still sitting in History 101, she could almost feel the Doctor unbuttoning her jeans and finally gliding his hands down, relieving her of her frantic need to be touched by him. He'd flip her around and push against the chalkboard, or onto the floor, or against the sturdy solid wood door, and have her way with her. Rose closed her eyes and squeezed them shut; she could almost feel his chest against her heaving breasts as they-

BRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGG. The clock tower across campus resonated through the lecture room, marking the seven o'clock hour. Students began to gather their things and bolt out of the room, as the Doctor was shouting over the ruckus, "Proper good class today, ladies and gents. I'll see you all in class on Monday, although I might decide to take a bit of a vacation, who knows!" He grinned, obviously pleased with himself, and began to pack up his scattered papers. Rose felt a familiar ache between her legs as she stood, left her pencil and empty notebook on the desk, and made her way down the many carpeted steps to the main floor of the lecture hall. The last of the students were filtering out as the Doctor glanced up and gave her a huge, goofy grin. "Rose! Did you enjoy class today?" He laughed, and Rose gave an anxious, knowing smile.

"Yeah, yeah I'd say I did." She put her hands in her back pockets shyly. The Doctor only smiled and continued packing away his things.

Can I please see you after class?

There is something that I have to ask.

"Rose, would you do me a favour?" He asked her, shoving his sonic screwdriver discreetly in a pocket of the briefcase.

"Well, sure. What d'you need?" She responded.

Mr. Watson, I want to get with you.

I won't tell a soul what we're gonna do.

Want to get my hands down your khaki pants.

Teacher, teacher, what'cha gonna do?

'Cause I am coming on to you.

"Would you mind closing that door? It's a bit chilly in here and I plan on staying here for a bit, looking over some information on that Slitheen dean we've been tracking." He stopped and giggled. "Slitheen dean. That rhymes! Oh, I'm such a child." He shook his head good naturedly and hummed an upbeat tune under his breath. Rose strode over to the heavy wooden door and closed it, the lecture hall emptied now. She then walked up the carpeted stairs to the back of the room, and closed the blinds on all the windows with one twist of her hand. From the height of the back row, Rose admired the Doctor, in all his absentminded perfection. She didn't just lust after him, she loved him. In her own way, she truly did. Goodness only knows if he feels that way about me. But I'll take what I can get. Gathering her resolve, she trotted back down to the hardwood floors of the main level.

Now I know, I know it's a fantasy of yours.

Rose slid up behind the Doctor, who stood at one end of his giant desk, puttering with papers. She held her breath and wrapped her pale arms around his waist, fitting her hips against his arse perfectly. The Doctor jumped slightly and spun around, Rose's arms still around him.

And you know, you know it's a fantasy of mine.

"Rose? What-" She cut him off with a kiss, slowly pushing her hips against him. When they pulled apart, she found his hands gently placed on her waist.

So why waste time?

Let's do this thing tonight.

"Mr. Watson," she batted her eyelids at him faux-coyly. "I think I'm going to have a bit of trouble with the oral portion of the final." The Doctor eyed her up and down, then gave a crooked smile.

"Actually, Ms. Tyler, I think you'll do just fine. But I'd be happy to give you some private lessons, if you'd like." Rose smiled, and kissed the Doctor deeply again. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as their tongues intertwined and their lips met again and again and again. Finally, Rose pulled apart to grin up at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh, Mr. Watson. I think I'll need private lessons all night tonight." She removed his jacket and tie as she kissed him, then unbuttoned his shirt. He had pulled off her jacket, and was gazing at her in all of her mussed beauty. Rose took a moment to examine him, half naked and leaning seductively against his desk, his gangly legs spread open and inviting as he fumbled with the button fly of her jeans. In one motion, she pushed his hand away and shoved him onto the desk. The Doctor let out a surprised chuckled and laid flat as Rose stepped out of her jeans and straddled him on the desk. She kissed his lips, his jawline, down his chest, and finally pulled down the zipper of his pinstriped trousers with her teeth.

Rose looked up, pressed her chest against the Doctor's and kissed him. She looked into his eyes, which mirrored hers in that they were darkened with lust, and smiled.

"You might want to take the notes tonight, Mr. Watson."

"Ms. Tyler…I might have to hold you for detention tonight."

Mr. Watson, I want to get with you.

I won't tell a soul what we're gonna do.

Want to get my hands down your khaki pants.

Teacher, teacher, what'cha gonna do?