The Doctor had never really been one for kissing. Mind you, people seemed to kiss him often enough, but how could he refuse? He wasn't that rude. Rude and not ginger, yes, but refusing a kiss was just plain insulting to the other person! But no; the Doctor had never really felt a strong need to kiss anyone until after his tenth regeneration. He had Rose Tyler to blame for that.
There was a part of him that tended to lean toward thinking that the only reason he felt so inclined to kiss those soft pink lips so often was because they'd been what essentially caused him to take on this form. Was it that his body just wanted to throw an act of gratitude out there for aiding him in getting rid of those big ears and that ugly mug? Possibly; but he knew that wasn't really it.
The reason he always felt that lingering desire to kiss her was purely because she was Rose Tyler; his brilliant, beautiful, magnificent pink and yellow human. There was just something about her that drove him mad and, at the same time, kept him relatively sane. He couldn't understand it no matter how hard he tried; and believe me, he tried. After the regeneration, he ran tests and diagnostics on this new body, passing it off to Rose as standard procedure. There was nothing wrong with him; he just wanted to make sure everything was functioning as it should be in a healthy Time Lord. Ironically enough, it was during one of these tests that he kissed her with his new lips for the first time.
"Well, if there's nothing wrong with ya, why do the tests now? Why didn't you do them as soon as you regenerated?"
They were in the TARDIS medical room when she asked him the question, and he blinked innocently at her while drawing blood from his arm with a syringe, shaking his head in response. "Oh, you know; new body, new mind; lots of things to consider and figure out. I guess this just wasn't at the top of my list."
"Well it should have been," she remarked, lightly swatting his arm once he set the syringe down, and he frowned, looking up at her.
"Oi! What was that for?"
"What if you did have some sort of wonky regeneration illness?" she asked, shaking her head with her hands poised on her hips. "What if you didn't even realize it because you were too busy considering other things, yeah? What if one day you just dropped, God forbid while you were flying the TARDIS, and we crashed? What if we both died, really died; none of this regeneration stuff; all because you didn't run these tests right off the bat-?"
Her babbling seemed to be endless; a constantly stream of "what if's"; and the fact that she wasn't even stopping for a breath was astonishing. Out of innocent curiosity, the Doctor's eyes had flitted down to her lips to make sure she was still, in fact, breathing, and he found that they ended up stuck there, locked on the two soft pink lines that were spewing out concerns his ears were now deaf to. What did those lips taste like? The last time he'd kissed her he'd been an entirely different man, and she'd been possessed by Bad Wolf. Not optimal conditions for getting her true flavor, or for his memory, for that matter.
Being a man driven almost entirely by his curiosity, the Doctor had stood up and walked over to her mid rant, peering down at her lips for a second longer before bending his head to catch them with his. Her words were muffled against his lips for only an instant before she fell silent, most likely stunned by what was happening. Hmmm… what were those flavors? A smidge of honey from whatever she'd had for breakfast, a touch of cherry from the lip gloss she'd applied after she ate and; ah, yes. There it was. That special little indescribable taste that was just… Rose.
Drawing back just as randomly as he'd pressed his lips to hers, he turned on his heel, grabbing the syringe to expel the blood into a proper analysis vile. "Right then! Rose, would you pass me that blue bottle?"
"You kissed me."
"Hmm?"
"You kissed me!"
"Oh?" Looking up, he blinked, nodding when he realized what she said. "Oh! Yes, I suppose I did. The blue bottle, please?"
"What, that's it? You're just gonna kiss me and then act like nothing happened?"
He'd forgotten how personally humans took things like kisses. He supposed it was only a natural thing to forget, given he was usually the one being kissed and not the kisser.
"Um… yeah. Yeah, that was the plan," he stated, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers and raising an eyebrow, "Is that a problem for you?"
Furrowing her brow with obvious confusion, Rose took a moment before shaking her head, grabbing the bottle he'd asked for and passing it to him. What, do his people just randomly kiss each other and then walk away?
"No. No, I suppose not."
Although, if it happened again, she was certainly gonna have to say something about it. Even if kissing was a casual occurrence for Time Lords, it wasn't for her.
...
The second time he kissed her it was even more impulsive than the first. In fact, looking back on it now, the Doctor gets quite embarrassed thinking of how rashly and inappropriately he had acted.
They were arguing. Rose had asked if they could drop in and visit her mother; they hadn't done so in weeks, and the longer they put it off, the harder Jackie would smack him for keeping Rose away; and the Doctor had agreed, if not a bit begrudgingly. As much as he adored Rose, her mother was a different story. Jackie could be brilliant, when she wanted to be, but other times she was nothing but a fright. The Doctor could only handle her in small doses.
Unfortunately, he got a much larger dose than he'd bargained for. Upon landing, the TARDIS decided she was going to be rather uncooperative, making it impossible for them to leave after their visit. The Doctor wasn't too concerned; he assured Rose he'd take a look at her in the morning and they'd be back in business in no time.
They weren't. Whatever was wrong with the old time ship, he hadn't the foggiest, and they wound up stuck on Earth for three straight weeks. Three straight weeks of Jackie Tyler was enough to drive the poor Time Lord mad, and one evening when Jackie had gone out with a group of her friends, he snapped.
"We could be somewhere far more interesting right now, you know. If you hadn't insisted on coming to visit your dear old mum, we could be stranded somewhere wonderful! Instead, here we are, watching crap telly and eating things that could be used as means of murder for some species."
Rose had scoffed at his statement, munching on a handful of crisps. "Stranded is stranded, no matter where you are; it's bloody boring and annoying as hell. Plus, it's hardly my fault we're stuck here. You're the one whose ship is on the fritz. If you could fix it, we'd have been out of here ages ago!"
"Are you questioning my capability?"
"No."
"My intelligence, then?"
"No! I'm just saying that it's not my fault! Instead of trying to fix the TARDIS, you're willingly sitting here watching crap telly and eating... stuff!"
"Stuff? Stuff? Ha! Are you even aware of what they put in the majority of this stuff? It's fat, Rose! Fat, fat, and more fat! Not to mention thousands of chemicals and by-products-"
"Are you calling me fat?"
"What?"
"You are! You're calling me fat!"
"What?"
"I can't believe you'd call me fat! You, of all people! You had enormous ears when I met you but I never said anything!"
"What?!"
"For your information, I am far from fat! I indulge in the occasional unhealthy treat, yes, but who doesn't? I'm perfectly happy with my weight, and if you aren't, you can sod right off!"
"I never said you were fat!"
"You did!"
"I most certainly did not!"
"You did! You were rambling on and on about all the junk they put in crisps and this and that and you kept saying fat! If that's not an accusation, I don't know what is!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, you're worse than your mother!"
Her jaw dropping, Rose jumped to her feet, jabbing a finger against his chest. "You take that back!"
Pushing her hand away, he stood as well, standing a few inches taller than her and narrowing his eyes. It was a truly stupid thing to be fighting over, and he knew that, but he'd been cooped up for far too long. He had to vent his energy somehow.
"No."
"No? No? Why, you ignorant, pompous, rude-!"
For the second time, the Doctor didn't let Rose finish her sentence. Grabbing both of her cheeks, he'd tugged her lips to his, kissing her with furious vigor. Crisps, chocolate cake, and lime soda pop.
Rose was just as shocked as she was the first time, possibly a bit more given they'd just been having a right heated row, and she was quick to push him away, scowling as he blinked, licking his lips a bit to savor her flavor now that it was out of his immediate reach.
"You can't just bloody kiss me! I'm not a Time Lord or Lady or whatever you lot call your females! I'm human, and humans don't take too kindly to being snogged out of nowhere!"
That wasn't entirely true on her part. Both times the Doctor had kissed her, a jolt of excitement and pleasure ran through her before she came to her senses. Had they not both happened at such awkward times, she might have kissed him back.
He didn't seem to have truly heard any of what she just said. Blinking, he leaned toward her.
"Sorry?"
"Oh, for the love of…" Shaking her head, Rose dropped down onto the couch again, grabbing another handful of crisps as she trained her eyes on the television once more. "I'm not fat," she mumbled, and the Doctor felt a bit guilty upon hearing her, clearing his throat and shaking his head.
"I never said you were fat," he stated once more, more calmly than before, sitting beside her and picking up the crisp's bag. "All I said was that these things are unhealthy. They contain a lot of fat. I never said that you were fat."
She was doing her best to ignore him, which was why his next words made her eyes widen with surprise at their suddenness.
"I think you're beautiful."
A blush spreading across her cheeks, Rose quickly ducked her head to hide her pleased smile. She was still angry with him over the kiss and his ignorance to her feelings; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd made her smile.
...
The third time the Doctor kissed Rose it was, almost, entirely intentional. He'd been so gloriously happy to see her alive and unharmed that he couldn't help it; he kissed her. Words just couldn't convey what, for some reason, he was feeling deep in both of his hearts.
They'd traveled back, far back, to a random year in Ancient Egypt. Although it had turned out to not be so random; it was the year 30 BC. The year the Romans came for Cleopatra. The Doctor and Rose had been caught in a rather unfortunate ambush of Roman soldiers, and he'd lost track of her. He was unable to find her no matter how hard he searched, and he began to panic. At a time like this and with men like those she could have been dead, tortured, or worse; far, far worse. If that were the case, he'd likely have ended up rewriting history by destroying every last man who laid a hand on her.
But, to his immense relief, he found her later that night. A relatively kind man, thank the stars, had found her in the throng of panicked people and taken her to a place where the Romans wouldn't find them. Once the soldiers made their way through that particular part of the city, he'd allowed Rose to take shelter in his home with him and his wife until it was safe to go search for "her husband." Of course, as if her attire were not strange enough, the fact that she was a woman out and about in broad daylight without a master would be far too astonishing and improper, no matter how kind this particular man was.
When the Doctor finally found her there, after pleadingly searching every home in the vicinity, he'd tugged Rose into his arms and kissed her without a word of greeting. Rose, who was so relieved to see him that she had started to cry, kissed him back without thinking twice, clutching him for dear life.
The two of them never said a word after they left about the kiss. It had happened in the heat of the moment, and didn't need to be revisited. She was safe, and that was all that mattered.
...
It didn't take long for the Doctor to realize he wasn't the only person who so often felt the urge to kiss Rose Tyler. In fact, wherever they went she acquired a rather lengthy line of suitors, and the Doctor didn't like that very much. No, he didn't like that one bit. Particularly when she would assure said young men that she and he were "just mates." Just mates? Just mates my arse.
Did I just think that?
Huh. It would appear as though I did.
The fourth time the Doctor kissed Rose Tyler it was out of jealousy and the pure, unaltered, male need to mark his territory. Call it petty if you'd like, because he certainly does looking back on it, but that's why it happened.
They'd traveled back to 16th century Scotland because Rose had mentioned she fancied going to a proper party and the Doctor had a soft spot for the Scots. Well, things had been going splendidly at first; Rose had dressed for the occasion in a proper gown, for they were attending a celebratory ball for some wedding or another; the details were a bit scattered due to all the wine they'd both consumed.
Things didn't really get out of hand until Duke Sebastian of somewhere in the country started to get a little too feelsy with Rose for the Doctor's liking. Oh, he was a charming devil; the Doctor could see the way the two flirted and laughed as he twirled her around the floor like a typical Scotsman. The Doctor didn't like it. He didn't like the way Rose threw her head back with glee when the bloke spun her around, and he definitely didn't like the way Sebastian's eyes flitted to her corset whenever she did so.
Around this time, the Doctor had consumed about seven goblets of sweet wine, and his instincts were purely guiding all of his actions. The second Sebastian pulled Rose, who had drank about twice as much as the Doctor and was far too hazy to object, to the side of the room and started kissing a trail down her neck, the Doctor snapped. His legs carried him across the crowded room, his arms pushing ladies and lords alike out of his way, and he ripped that man off of her so fast that it likely made his head spin. Sebastian had looked ready for a fight, but the Doctor had other plans; shoving Rose up against the wall, he'd mashed his lips to hers, kissing her with a hungry, possessive passion before moving his lips to her neck to get rid of any evidence that any man but he had ever been there. People nearby looked on with shock, and when the Doctor pulled away, he narrowed his eyes at not only Sebastian, but any man who may have possibly thrown Rose a second glance that night.
"I am the Lord of Time," he stated obnoxiously, his eyes flashing with malice, "and if any of you filthy scum think you have the right to place your hands on my consort, you're sorely mistaken."
With that, he'd scooped Rose up, dress and all, and carried her out of the hall and back to the abandoned room where they had parked the TARDIS.
When Rose awoke the next morning, she had no memory of the incident. In fact, she had no memory of anything that happened after her fifth goblet of wine.
She found the Doctor in the console room, busying himself with setting the next destination, and her yawn was what drew his attention toward her.
"Wha' happened last night?" she asked, sleepily rubbing her eyes and running a hand through her hair, and the Doctor had cleared his throat, leaning against the control panel.
"You were too wibbly wobbly on your feet to make it back here on your own, so I carried you and put you to bed. Care for some tea? I reckon you've got quite the headache. I have just the brew to cure that…"
Rose never even considered that anything else may have happened. Although, for weeks to follow, she found herself having rather pleasant dreams of the Doctor pushing her up against a stone wall and ravishing her mouth with possessive kisses while shocked spectators witnessed around them.
...
The fifth time the Doctor kissed Rose it was out of sympathy and… a bit by accident.
He'd passed by her room late one night only to hear crying echoing inside. Odd; usually she was fast asleep by now. More odd, and worrisome, than that was the fact that, well, she was crying. Pausing for a moment longer to make sure he wasn't hearing things, he hesitated before knocking on her door at the sound of another whimper.
"Rose? Everything alright in there?"
She didn't answer him, and that made his worry spike even further. Pushing the door open a crack, he slowly walked into the dark room, taking a seat on the edge of her bed as her body shook with sobs under the blankets.
"Please go away," she choked out into the pillow she was using to hide her face, and the Doctor instantly began to fear he'd done something to upset her, a small frown pulling at his lips.
"Are you cross with me? Have I done something? If I have, I'm sorry-"
"It's nothing you've done," she said in a weak voice, hoarse from crying, and the Doctor felt a surge of relief that was quickly replaced with more worry. What else could possibly be making her cry?
"Then what?" Shaking his head, the Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder, wishing she'd turn around and face him. He was beginning to feel more and more like he shouldn't have come in at all, and things would be exceedingly awkward in the morning if he didn't resolve this somehow. "Rose, what is it? What's the matter?"
Staying quiet for a while longer as more tears escaped, Rose's voice was shaky when she finally responded. "I… I checked my messages… on my phone… There was one from this friend of mine, Jen. Haven't seen her in years... She called to tell me Caitlin Moss is dead."
The Doctor frowned, not recognizing the name, but clearly it was of some importance because Rose started to sob again upon saying it, more words following.
"She'd been sick for months… People tried to get a hold of me at mum's, and mum left me about a dozen messages about it, but I never listen to her messages because they're usually the same thing…! Come home, I miss you, the usual… But these weren't! One of my closest school friends was dying while I was off partying in Scotland! Now she's gone… and the lot probably think I don't even care!"
Her sobs grew hysterical at that and a slow ache began to spread through the Doctor's chest. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no… Something like this was bound to happen eventually, but he kept convincing himself it wouldn't; likely because he didn't want to remember the dozens of reasons why taking Rose away from her life at home was so very, very wrong. But now this had happened, and she was so horribly upset and he felt like the most monstrous thing in the universe. Keeping her away from a dying friend? What kind of a person was he?
"Rose, I'm so, so sorry…" he tried to assure her, reaching out to comfort her only to have her sob more heavily and sit up to attempt to push him from her bed, shouting for him to leave until she collapsed into his arms with broken, exhausted cries, clutching to him as though she really wanted the exact opposite. Wrapping his arms around her, the Doctor held her as she cried, letting her tire herself out until she was whimpering quietly. The guilt tearing him up inside, he'd proceeded to press comforting kisses to different spots on her tearstained face, mumbling apology after apology against her skin. In the process, his lips had brushed her, and she'd shocked him this time by latching onto them in a desperate kiss, a few more tears sliding down her cheeks. Unable to protest to anything she was doing, he let her take out all of her confused emotions on him, ranging from kissing to touching to much, much more…
Later, when she'd finally fallen asleep again; spent, warm and pink in his arms; he'd let the guilt attack him full on. He should never have taken her with him just to cure his own loneliness. He shouldn't have kissed her that first time to satisfy his curiosity, let alone multiple more times to follow, and he certainly shouldn't have enjoyed the flurry of passion they'd just experienced together. He should have been a better man than that and rejected her advances and her tearful undressing of him, instead of letting her do whatever she wanted in her unstable state. He'd let Rose bed him to pacify his guilt, and in return it only made him feel worse. Kissing her head, a single tear slid down his cheek as he carefully slid out of her bed and redressed, pausing at the door to look at her.
The things this human girl made him feel were terrifying. They weren't a regeneration malfunction as he'd originally assumed, and they weren't something that only anger brought out in him, and they weren't roused simply by moments fueled with relief and possessiveness, either. If any of those were the case, he was certain that her little quirks wouldn't make him smile as much as they did, and he wouldn't be willing to do anything she asked of him, and he certainly wouldn't go out of his way to make that painfully beautiful smile surface on her face.
What Rose Tyler made the Doctor feel was nothing short of love, and it scared him to death because he knew it could never last. Something was bound to go wrong, and he'd lose her just like he lost everyone else. If he let himself love her, he'd never be able to get through having her gone.
When he found himself alone, tears streaming down his face, staring at the inside of the TARDIS console room instead of at Rose at Bad Wolf Bay months later, he knew he'd been right.