"Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rosey-posie, puddin' and pie. Roooooose."
"Going to slap you," Rose mumbled from the safety of her duvet. She would have, too, but the Doctor had taken the precaution of lying directly on top of her, pinning her arms down.
"Slapping isn't fun. Slapping is distinctly un-fun. I'd go so far as to say that slapping is one of the great evils of the universe, and I don't think you ought to partake of anything greatly evil. Don't you agree?"
Rose blinked from beneath a frizz of early-morning hair. "Have you been drinking pancake syrup straight from the bottle again?"
"Rose," the Doctor sighed, looking pained, "that happened once. Once. Is it necessary to dredge it back up every other day?"
"Is there another reason you would call me Rosey-posie, puddin' and pie?"
"I wanted you to wake up. It worked, didn't it?"
"Why am I awake again?" She thought about asking why he was on top of her, too, but his warmth was beginning to seep through the duvet, and his face so close to hers gave her all sorts of warm, fuzzy thoughts. In the end, she decided against it.
"Starfish."
"What?"
"Starfish. Come on, you don't want to miss this. They only exist in this galaxy, and they're amazing."
He scuttled backwards, taking the happy warmth away, and reached out a hand to pull Rose up. She let him, trying vainly to do something with her hair. He bounded closer to her, settling on his knees, and deftly twisted the mess into a cleaner knot.
"Clip?"
She handed him a hair tie from the bedside table, and he secured the knot.
"Perfect," he pronounced. The brush of his fingers against the side of her neck was an accident, Rose told herself sternly. The gooseflesh didn't go away.
"Come on," he said, sliding off the bed and holding out his hand. She took it and followed him to a room she'd never been to before. He pulled her down staircases and hallways until they reached a heavy, carved doorway with, unusually, a door. The Doctor beamed at her and opened it.
"After you," he whispered. Rose stepped inside the room and felt her jaw drop.
He'd taken her inside a bubble. She stepped out onto what looked like empty space, the chilly glass beneath her feet the only indication she wasn't floating out into aether. All around, the dust and glowing gases of deep space swirled in shining masses, like glitter against the dark backdrop of space. The nearest star sent out beams of light to reach her, highlighting the twisting gases. And through the stardust teemed a mass of silver, fishlike bodies.
"Starfish," the Doctor said behind her. She leaned back instinctively, and he wrapped his arms around her, steadying her.
"How do they live like this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They've adapted to live on bits of space debris," he answered. "They consume gasses in space that fuel them and support their life processes. Those same gasses allow them to propel themselves from rock to rock, food supply to food supply. They don't live very long, but when they come out in force, they're beautiful."
Rose nodded wordlessly. The starfish twisted and dove in and out of the glitter, their tiny mouths gulping it down. She didn't know how long they stood there in the bubble, but at long last, the Doctor moved.
"They won't be out much longer." He stepped away from her and walked toward the door. With a last glance at the starfish, Rose followed. The Doctor flashed her a dazzling smile.
"Worth getting up for?" he asked, closing the door behind him. They started back toward the console room.
"Yeah, it was," Rose conceded, slipping her hand in his. "They were beautiful."
"I thought you might like them. You're not still sleepy, are you?"
Rose's jaw-cracking yawn gave her away. "Maybe a little."
"Poor Rosie-posie." He suddenly hugged her, twirling her around before settling her on her feet. If Rose hung on longer than was strictly necessary, it was only because she was a little dizzy.
To her surprise, he followed her into her bedroom and perched on the edge of her bed.
"Where should we go next?" he asked as she crawled beneath the duvet and snuggled down into her nest of pillows.
"Mmm. Dunno. Somewhere jungle-y?"
"Jungle-y? Just make adjectives out of anything, can you? Scooch."
He kicked off his trainers and snuggled down next to her. Drowsiness made Rose a little more cuddly than usual, and she nestled her head on his shoulder.
"There is Ocanis, of course," he was saying, waving a hand vaguely in the air. "Their entire planet is rainforest. Even the oceans are broken up by small floating forests. Would you like that? Floating forests?"
"Mmm-hmm," Rose mumbled. His voice sounded deeper, with her head pressed so close to his chest, and she fancied she could hear his double heartbeat.
"Or Kalektona. Their trees are a lovely shade of lavender, and there are a lot of them. Of course, their flora is a bit shocking. I had a lilly try to chew my ear off, once, which was a rather unpleasant experience, given at the time I was trying to fight off a rabid squirrel with a match, a piece of string, and three cappucora leaves."
If she placed her hand just there, she could feel them both beating at once. Left, right, left, right. If his suit jacket were off, she could feel them better, but if the suit jacket were off, then she would just be compelled to take off his shirt...
"But I suppose if you want to see jungle, we might as well have a gander at some ancient stone architecture, too. You'd like that, I think; there are some lovely statues I know that have been overtaken by a river. One of my favorites is a woman who's holding a bowl up in the air, and the water cascades down, so it looks like the bowl is overflowing all over her. The pool below is a wonderful spot for fishing, too. The natives aren't too keen on outsiders, though, so we'd have to be sneaky, but you're getting to be an expert in that. Really, when you came out of that cupboard like that, back on Justip, I thought old Epox was going to soil himself. Serves him right, trying to force me into burning the TARDIS. Silly squid-man."
His breath felt lovely against her skin. Suppose she tilted her head just so, and pressed her lips to his...
She fell asleep to the steady beat of his hearts.
The Doctor pressed his lips ever so lightly to hers. She was so deeply asleep, she didn't even stir, just as he'd thought. She always fell back to sleep so quickly when he woke her up like this. He tightened his arms around her and listened to her breathe, in, out, in, out.
Someday, he promised himself, someday, she would want him there for more than warmth. Someday, he'd talk to her about something important, and maybe she'd listen. Maybe she'd even talk back.
He covered the small hand on his chest with one of his and, for now, contented himself with watching her sleep.
