Disclaimer: I don't own Rose or the Doctor. Or the TARDIS. I do own the bottles of water and the young man.

A/N: Hoping that this will be a continuing story. I've got lots of ideas for this 'un! I'd like to see how it goes down first though, although I'm not sure I can resist...I'm pretty sure there'll be another chapter up tonight. Not angsty at all, this one...well, I guess there might be a little, but set before Doomsday. Not quite sure where this fits in, but...around Fear Her, perhaps after The Satan Pit – that sort of time.

Dedication: Dedicated to Alex and Nancy, my friends and gossip pals!

Kisses and Cream

A Thirst for Love

"That," grinned Rose, as she and the Doctor made their way out of the tennis courts at Wimbledon, "was great!"

"Was, wasn't it?" he replied, and draped his arm casually around Rose's shoulders, trying to make it seem as if the action didn't matter, and was simply a way of steering his Assistant through the crowds.

Rose's smile grew even broader as a warm, fuzzy feeling made its way through her, and her own arm snaked around the Doctor's lower back to come to rest on his hip. He was a skinny thing, she thought, but she liked him that way. Neither of the incarnations of the Doctor that she'd seen had been on the large side, but the current Doctor was simply a bag of bones, as she was constantly reminding him. That didn't mean, however, that she didn't find him attractive – on the contrary, every time she looked at the man she found herself growing hot.

It had been worse lately. The Doctor had taken her to more "normal" places – if that word could even be used around the TARDIS, like the current New York, Paris in a hundred years' time, Rome two thousand years ago, Athens around the same time, and now Wimbledon to see the Tennis. He'd even offered grudgingly to pick up Jackie on the way, but Rose had hurriedly convinced him to fly on, telling him that her mother didn't like crowded places and pushing the guilt she felt to the back of her mind.

It hadn't lasted long though. Rose's conscience, for once, had lost the battle, and as they were sitting in the stands watching one of the matches, Rose had stolen a glance at the Doctor, to find that he wasn't watching the Tennis at all, but had his eyes firmly fixed on her face. He had grinned, embarrassed, and turned back to watching the game, and Rose had shifted herself ever so slightly so that she was a little closer to him.

"God, I'm thirsty," Rose complained as they neared the gates and passed a stand selling newspapers and bottles of water.

"Your wish is my command," the Doctor replied and, fishing in his pocket, drew out a handful of change and nodded at Rose. "You stay here, I'll get us some drinks."

The Doctor hadn't been gone long when Rose noticed a presence behind her, and turned to find a young man leaning casually against the railings, looking at her with a cheeky expression. "What do you want?" she asked rather rudely, and he simply raised an eyebrow and made his way towards her.

Over at the water stand, the Doctor had finished buying the water and had turned back towards Rose, when he noticed that she seemed to be engaged in a conversation with a young man. Assuming that Rose knew this stranger, he decided to approach with caution, rather than just barge in and interrupt as usual.

Rose, however, had no idea who the guy was, and he wasn't the one doing the talking. He hadn't said a word, just winked at her and carried on approaching while she fired questions at him, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. Of course, she wouldn't have done this on a normal day – but there was something strange about the young man. He didn't seem quite...real. He seemed familiar, but then again, she had no idea who he was, and, although he was drawing closer, he didn't appear to have any...Rose couldn't describe it. She could see him, but she couldn't feel him – there was simply a draught that had suddenly whipped up and was tugging at her hair. He continued to walk towards her, smiling, and, unnerved, Rose began to turn her head to look for the Doctor.

It was then that the man suddenly reached out, grabbed her head and pulled her towards him. Their lips met and the teenager gave her a passionate kiss – or what looked like one – although Rose couldn't feel him. There was a slight tickling sensation where his hands appeared to be gripping his cheeks, and her lips were tingling, even burning slightly, but she couldn't quite get to grips with what was happening. This man – although good looking, a complete stranger - had just kissed her, completely out of the blue! She couldn't have been more surprised – and also rather angry.

The Doctor, however, could be – and was. His cheeks reddened with embarrassment and rage. How dare Rose do this to him? How could she just...lead him on like that, lead him into believing that she enjoyed his company and maybe, maybe even liked him? He'd been flirting with her, certainly, but she'd been returning the gesture – she'd led him to believe that there was something between them! And now, there she was, standing and kissing somebody, just kissing him, in the middle of the exit!

Rose pulled away from the man, finally breaking the link between them. Her face and lips burned with humiliation, and she would have slapped the man, had he not winked at her once again and made his way out of the grounds at Wimbledon. Turning, she saw the Doctor glaring at her, and started to make her way towards him.

"Doctor," she panted when she drew close, "that's not...it wasn't...it's not what it seemed!"

"Spare me the details," he snarled, cutting her off with a raised hand. He threw her a bottle of water before turning on his heel and heading towards the TARDIS without another word.

"Doctor?" said Rose, tentatively, but he did not reply. Unscrewing the lid of her drink, Rose took a small sip and, tears gathering in her eyes, followed the Doctor back into the TARDIS.