Disclaimer: I still don't own it, but the Temporal Resonance Augmentor is mine.
Rose Tyler didn't have a clue as to what the Doctor was up to. She did know, however, that if this was a joke, she'd kill him.
As if forcing her to sit on his lap, painfully aware in each nerve ending of every millimeter where they touched wasn't enough.
Since he wasn't allowing her to get cutlery, Rose was feeding him by hand. After the first little square of toast, he'd shocked Rose by licking her fingers clean. The second morsel she offered him, a slice of strawberry, was treated the same.
In some ways, that surprised her even more than the first time, as it showed that the Doctor intended to continue this unprompted behavior. Certain that allowing this temptation would be stupid, and half-convinced that he wasn't aware of what he was doing, Rose make a point upon offering him a third bite of keeping her fingers clean. Still, the Doctor's lips fastened around her forefinger and suckled gently. Rose bit down on her lower lip.
When, on feeding him for the fourth time, Rose tried to pull her hand away before he could capture her fingers, the Doctor's hand grasped her wrist, causing Rose to gasp in surpise. She watched, mutely, as the Doctor pulled her hand back to his mouth. This time, he first swiped his tongue over her palm, before trailing teasingly up her fingers. Rose was half-turned to watch this, wishing she could yank off the blindfold and read his motives in his eyes. Then, he grabbed her other hand, the one that had done nothing but sit, fisted against her thigh since she'd given up trying to escape his lap. Her fist relaxed under his tender, inquiring touch, and again Rose watched her fingers disappear between the Doctor's lips. Though this hand had no traces of the meal laid out before them, the Doctor suckled as hungrily as if her skin had been bathed in the nectar of the gods.
Rose's eyes slipped shut, and for a moment rational thought returned. She pulled her hands back from him, trying not to do so in a way that would make him feel rejected. After a moment of pouting, the Doctor grinned in a way that made Rose uneasy.
"I do believe you're cheating, Rose Tyler." He said with a warm, amused drawl. "The purpose of this exercise is to prove you still have a face, yes? Not to, like always, take care of me, even if I have been rather lax in that area over the past few days." Before Rose could even think to say anything, the Doctor's fingers were on her lips, stilling them.
"I'm thankful for your care, Rose." He told her with heartbreaking sincerity. "I always am. But…I haven't been here for you as I should have been. You…you must have needed someone to talk to, a hug, even a shoulder, but I couldn't see that. Well, now I can't see anything." He smiled wryly. "And that's probably best for now. But, I want to be all that I wasn't but should have been. Please, let me take care of you, for a bit."
Rose didn't move, didn't speak, and if she breathed it was not because of any conscious thought. His long, nimble fingers offered a piece of fruit to her, pressing it lightly against her lips, running it delicately from side to side. Rose shivered and hoped he couldn't feel it, opening her mouth to accept the fruit. The digits that popped the fruit (pineapple) into her mouth lingered long enough for Rose to know that she was allowed (no, invited) to treat is fingers in the same way he'd treated hers. Only through a great effort of will did Rose resist.
She saw the Doctor pout, but she did not give in. He repeated the action with a grape, and again his fingers lingered. Again, she refused to give into temptation. On this second refusal, the Doctor tensed beneath her. His face lost all of its playfulness, and Rose realized that whatever door had been opened, it was very quickly being shut because of her actions. A third bite of food was offered tentatively, and the Doctor pulled his hand away as soon as she accepted the fruit.
This time, it was Rose's turn to grab his wrist and pull his fingers back to her mouth. This time, it was Rose who licked and sucked and nibbled and teased. And this time, it was the Doctor who stifled a gasp and struggled to control his breathing.
Rose was painfully cognizant, as she drank in the sight of how she was affecting him, of the fact that when the Doctor went back to normal, and Rose lost this unexpected intimacy, this moment would fuel her dreams and her fantasies.
*
Success! Rose was not only accepting his advances, she was reciprocating them. And what a sweet success it was, her hot tongue swirling around his fingers, actively driving him mad. The Doctor wanted to shout his thanks to the gods of every planet, nation, clan, and creed.
Despite knowing that he should be reigning in all of this, quelling it, finding a way to stop this process, the Doctor really didn't want to. He knew he was acting like a petulant child, but, dammit, for once he wanted to be selfish. Besides, Rose wasn't fighting it. And he knew that unless Rose told him now, he would never be able to defy his need for her. Not now that he'd began on this path.
The Doctor wanted to curse at how his choice had been stolen from him. He had thought about this since he met her. And he had wanted to make her his since he'd first noticed how special she was. He'd been too stupid and afraid to act, but he'd always thought it almost inevitable. After all, he had no intention of ever letting her go. He would do absolutely everything in his power to keep her by his side. And, if her actions and words were anything to go by, (and what else could anyone be judged upon but those) Rose didn't intend to leave.
Still, even though he'd frequently dreamed of what his body was readily preparing for, he'd wanted to have a choice in the where and the when. He'd wanted to set it up to be special, to be perfect, for his Rose. He'd wanted this on their terms. Now he was forced to take the situation at hand and do whatever he could to make it as good as possible for her.
He'd had months of seduction planned that he would have to cram into, at maximum, 48 hours. In addition, he was handicapped as he couldn't bring himself to look at her face, and he didn't exactly have his usual stamina. He was malnourished, dehydrated, and sleep deprived. He wasn't sure when or if he would be at the top of his game.
So yes, the Doctor wanted to curse at how his choices and plans had been arbitrarily removed from this equation, but then Rose's tongue would swipe over the pad of his finger, and he was ready to dance.
The Doctor continued to feed Rose until she turned her head no matter how persistent or tempting the offer, protesting she was stuffed and couldn't eat another bite.
"I've proven I can eat, haven't I?" She pleaded, leaning her head back against his shoulder. The smell of her shampoo and soap and skin engulfed the Doctor. He swallowed hard and nodded. He could picture the smile she gave him as she cuddled into him.
"Good. Now, you eat while I sit here and digest." She told him. There was a contented weariness in her voice, and the Doctor remembered that she hadn't slept well for nearly a week, now. He wrapped his arm snuggly about her waist and fed himself the same way he'd fed Rose, allowing the TARDIS to guide his fingers to choice morsels.
When the Doctor finished eating, Rose sighed softly and moved to leave his lap, only to be restrained. At this, she protested.
"Doctor, I have to get up, let me go." She insisted.
"Don't wanna." He mumbled, barely coherent around his giant pout.
"Doctor, I have to clean up, or the dishes will be impossible to wash."
"No you don't." He said. "The TARDIS can take care of it."
"She can wash dishes?" Rose asked with obvious skepticism.
"You accept that she keeps milk fresh indefinitely, but don't think she can do dishes?
"Wait, you're serious? I've lived here all this time and no one ever said!" Rose was close to yelling, and the Doctor realized that he may have blundered. Again.
"Well, the TARDIS thought it was sweet how you took care of her, and I thought it would be good to let her feel pampered." The Doctor said slightly sheepishly. There was a pause, and the Doctor waited as patiently as possible, knowing that Rose was considering the pros and cons of killing him. His only movement was to rub soothing circles into her abdomen, tethering her to him with this almost subconscious action. Evidently Rose decided that it wasn't the time for an argument.
"You know, I would have continued to clean up after myself anyway, just to make her happy, if you'd told me." Rose muttered. The Doctor felt a rush of affection for this kind, wonderful woman. The TARDIS chimed in with a grateful, loving hum. "But, if you won't let me up, and she is willing," The TARDIS chimed an affirmative. "I suppose I'll leave the washing up to her. After all, I've got another task to prove I have a face. This time, let's prove I have eyes, shall I?"
The Doctor smiled at this idea, and allowed himself to be led down the hall.
*
Rose led the Doctor in much the same way she had before: his hand in hers, her free arm around his waist. This time, though, there was a decidedly different mood in the air. Rose's arm had snaked under the Doctor's jacket, and the Doctor's thumb was rubbing circles on the back of her palm that were simultaneously soothing and arousing.
There was a tense, nervous, excited undercurrent to the Doctor that set Rose's blood tingling. She wanted to push him against the wall and snog him senseless. She wanted to demand to know what had gotten into him. She wanted him to turn back to normal before she did something that couldn't be taken back. She wanted this to never end, a permanent change. But only if this was the first step of the change. If she had to endure this wonderful, frustrating...seduction., then she would finally be driven completely insane.
"Now, Doctor," Rose said as they entered the Library, "We're going to prove that I can see." The Doctor turned his face to her, an eyebrow raised. Rose had the feeling that if he hadn't been blindfolded, his eyes would be sparkling with amusement.
"So you've said. But you haven't said how." He murured, his voice low.
"I'll read to you," Rose said simply, struggling for equilibrium.
"How do I know you're reading to me and not reciting something you've memorized?" He asked. Rose wasn't offended. She and the Doctor trusted each other every day with their lives. And both of them would do anything for the other. And that anything included convincing each other they were fine, protecting each other from unfortunate truths. He'd gotten to the point where he couldn't feed or bathe himself, so it was only natural for him to wonder if she weren't just trying to make him take care of himself. And she would have, if that'd been the only option. No, Rose wasn't offended. She squeezed his hand.
"We'll let the TARDIS decide." She said after a moment's deliberation. Rose drew him a few steps further into the room and ran his right hand across the smooth, bare surface of the table. "Nothing there." She said. Rose held both of the Doctor's hands tightly in hers and didn't let go. She looked up at the ceiling of her beloved home. "Would you please choose a book for me to read?"
There was a hum of acceptance, and Rose led the Doctor's hand back across the table. His questing fingers discovered the slim volume that lay there. He picked up the book and traced the raised letters of the title.
The Doctor chuckled. "Song of Solomon?" he asked the TARDIS aloud. If she responded, Rose couldn't hear, but a second book appeared on the table unannounced. The Doctor seemed to be unaware of it, and didn't act like he noticed when she grabbed in and tucked it under her arm.
"C'mon, then," Rose said, dragging the Doctor to a couch. It was a large, overstuffed affair that was more than big enough to sleep on. Rose hesitated before sitting next to the Doctor, wondering how close she dared to sit. She didn't know where the new boundaries were. She didn't know how to deal with this, honestly, but she was determined to work through it. She knew he would want her to be close, but how close? This book, Song of Solomon, was supposed to be, well, intimate, wasn't it? How much physical closeness would be appropriate?
Steeling herself for who knows what, Rose perched herself next to him, closer than she'd have sat before, but still providing them each some room. Despite preparing herself to be surprised, Rose still let out a squeal when, quick as a flash, the Doctor wrapped himself around her, tucking her in like a secure, living blanket. It was as though they were spooning while sitting up. The Doctor's legs were on the outside of the couch; Rose snuggled into his side and the back of the couch. His arm was around her shoulder, and her head was pillowed by his chest.
This time, Rose knew better than to protest. So, she snatched the book from his hand and propped it open on his thigh. With a blush already staining her cheeks, Rose licked her lips. "This is the song of songs which is Solomon's."
*
The Doctor could have kissed the TARDIS in gratitude. He'd been dying to kiss Rose, had been since he met her, but even more now. It was his beloved ship though that had managed to turn even the innocuous act of reading towards his purpose.
He was aware only of Rose: her warm, supple body relaxing against his side, her voice rising and falling to the cadence set down by the wise Solomon, the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo danced in his nose, reminding him of his own unwashed situation, the taste of her fingers still lingering on his lips. The rest of his senses, tuned as they were to the twining flow of time, were focused either on this present bliss or had silenced themselves.
It was an old poem that the TARDIS had chosen. Certain cultural differences detracted from its message, but there were passages coming, he knew that couldn't be tarnished. And, judging from the occasional stumble, Rose understood the more salacious metaphors.
It wasn't unusual for Rose to read during her downtime. Nor was it uncommon for her to prepare a meal of some kind, usually from that cookbook of hers. But he recalled one of her other pastimes, a particular favorite of his. One which he could so easily provide for her, even blindfolded.
"My beloved spoke," Rose read aloud, "and said unto me-"
"Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away." The Doctor recited. Rose inhaled sharply, and he could almost feel her stare. He stood, and extended a hand towards her. Within a moment, Rose's hand was in his, and he pulled her up, just a bit too hard so that she stumbled into his arms.
"Taking care of you means more than a light meal." The Doctor murmured. He could feel her breath on his lips. "Bring the book. We'll continue this somewhere a bit more comfortable."
Rose walked behind him after only a single question of "How?"
"The TARDIS won't let me fall. Besides, after a few centuries, you become pretty familiar with the layout of your home."
He didn't know if Rose was paying attention to where he was leading her, but it was a route she'd been down a few times. The garden had a flat path that led through the areas, and the Doctor followed it with unerring accuracy. When a smell resembling cotton candy scented the air, he carefully stepped off the path. He felt Rose come up beside him. A plant very much like moss, only thicker and drier covered the ground here. The light perfectly mimicked the warmth of the sun, but the TARDIS would never let them burn.
The Doctor slid an arm around Rose's waist and briefly nuzzled her hair. He felt her shiver and smiled to know she couldn't be cold.
"I know what you're doing." He whispered against her ear. "You're making things normal. Doing what we've always done." Rose's hair tickled his lips as she nodded, he was so close to her. "You know my favorite of out little rituals?" Another tickle. This time, she shook her head, no. "My favorite part is when you sunbathe. I watch you, sometimes, when you're not paying attention, when you think that I'm working, that I don't care if you're practically presenting yourself on a silver platter. When I can't stay away any longer." Rose had stopped breathing at some point during his confession, but she started again with his next words. "You're always so beautiful, so perfect, my Rose. Like a goddess here to provide sustenance to her followers. Favor me now, your most devoted worshipper."
He could almost hear her lick her lips and swallow nervously.
"You…wouldn't be able to see me." She pointed out in a whisper.
"I could feel you. I've wanted to for so long. To run my fingers up your arms and down your sides, across the smooth expanse of your stomach." The Doctor trailed off, certain that the hitch in her breath could only mean that his words had done the trick.
"I don't have a swimsuit." Rose pointed out. The Doctor knew that her hand was toying with the hem of her shirt. He almost laughed but settled for a broad grin. He pointed to the nearest tree, where a low limb had a bikini draped carefully over it. It was his favorite of her swimsuits. A rich brown that only enhanced her golden essence until she looked like a statue built of by the love goddesses working together had crafted one perfect being.
"Okay." Rose said with almost no hesitation in her voice. "Stay here while I go change."
"Need any help?" The Doctor asked cheekily and received a swatted arm for his troubles. He heard her step away, could almost picture her approach the tree by her sounds. She fingered the cloth that waited for her briefly before snatching it up and…going behind the tree? Really? Perversely, the Doctor found her absurd modesty in the face of his blinded state adorable rather than foolish.
Not quite soon enough, Rose was back beside him.
"Now what?" She asked, clearly handing him the reigns.
The Doctor let his hands find the curve of her waist. He traced them down over the swell of her hips, playing for a moment with the ties of her bikini bottom. Lowering himself to his knees, he turned his face upwards as though to gaze on her beauty like a humble supplicant. His fingers trailed down her legs and he pressed a gentle kiss to each of her knees.
"Lie down." The Doctor commanded barely over a whisper. Rose scrambled to obey.
The Doctor situated himself in a way to provide maximum frustration to both of them. His clothes whispered across her skin, and he could just feel her warmth, but nowhere did they touch. He just barely caught the groan that Rose bit back. A smug look suffused his face.
"I believe you were reading." The Doctor reminded her. There was a pause before Rose scurried into action, retrieving the book and flipping to her spot.
" Arise my love, my fair one, and come away." She began again.
The sun warmed him. The moss-like plant was soft as if several blankets had been put down. Rose's presence comforted him.
He hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep recently, he knew. The unconsciousness the TARDIS had put him into hadn't been as restful as true sleep, and his body was, even now, falling over itself in a rush to facilitate this change it knew was coming. All in all, he was exhausted.
As Rose's voice soothed him, the Doctor fell asleep.
*
A light snore pulled Rose's attention from the book, and her words trailed off to that void where stray thoughts make their home.
The Doctor had slipped into the first natural sleep he'd had in over a week. Careful not to rouse him, Rose let her fingers run through his hair. The hunger for touch seemed to resonate in him, even when he slept as he snuggled in closer to her at this prompting.
It must have been his proximity that reminded Rose of the second book the TARDIS had provided. She started to pull away from the Doctor, but he whimpered and moved closer. Afraid of waking him, Rose lay still for a moment. When he had calmed, she tried again. Again he began to become upset. Almost desperate, Rose laid a gentle, lingering kiss to his forehead.
"It's okay, Doctor." She whispered. "Still here." His face quieted, and his grip relaxed. She looked back at the page she'd been concentrating on recently and started to read to him again in a murmur. As he faded back into properly restful sleep, Rose slowly moved away, still reading, letting him know she was still near.
She'd left her clothes and the book at the tree. It was no more than ten paces away, so she was able to get to it and back within a minute. Lying back down next to him, Rose allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, though she was careful not to let the book be trapped.
For the first time since it had arrived on the table, Rose was able to examine the volume. It was thicker than Song of Solomon with a somber brown cover. The only thing about it that could possible attract attention was the title, and the title held Rose, captivated.
"Gallifreyan Mating." She wouldn't say it aloud, was afraid to even think it too hard, for ear he would awaken, but Rose felt rather as if she'd been given the Holy Grail. She wondered how long it would take her to finish it. How long before he realized she had it, what he would do when he found out. If she started this but had it taken away before she's learned anything of import, Rose thought she might die.
Well, she couldn't read it if she didn't open it. The first page was a table of contents, and Rose was surprised to see a chapter highlighted. Was this what the TARDIS wanted her to see? Is this what had caught the Doctor's attention? Either way, it certainly caught hers.
"Bonding with Non-Gallifreyan Life Forms. Page 172"
Practically frantic, Rose flipped through the pages. This book she read with a fervor, but silently.
"As was theorized last chapter, should a Time Lord or Lady go through a great enough trauma, the blocks put in place by the Loom could be broken and the sex drive initiated. If the Time Lord in question should be already bound, this will prove no difficulty. However, should the Time Lord be unbound, the body will pick the most suitable mate both physically and mentally, for a Time Lord will be unable to mate with one that is viewed as unequal.
"If, in a very unlikely turn of events, the sex drive is initiated in an unbound Time Lord who has been severed from contact with other Time Lords, the body will still endeavor to find a suitable companion: one that can be deemed 'the best'."
Rose stopped reading for a second to stare in shock at the Doctor's prone form. He'd called her that, once, when he was disposing of Adam. Had he read this then? Known what it meant? Wanted her to know? She forced these questions from her mind and her eyes back to the page. Reflection could come after she'd finished reading this.
"Depending on the reticence of the Time Lord, and how deeply ingrained are the moral strictures against fraternizing with other species, the affected Time Lord may try to repress all urges. Should, however, the Time Lord be not dispositioned to resist, or should something occur to change his or her mind, bonding will occur.
"As with all bonds that are initiated after the sex drive has been activated, it will begin with a claim, often verbal, of possession or ownership. If this is accepted unequivocally, the mating chemicals will be released, the body will prepare for bonding, and there is very little chance of the Time Lord stopping him or her self from completing at least the physical act of mating"
Rose continued reading even as her body relived the moment of the Doctor growling the word "mine" into her neck and her whispered response. No wonder he couldn't keep his hands to himself.
"However, such a bond will be temporary and dissolve relatively easily." The book continued. Rose felt a pang.
"In order for the bond to be permanently inflicted on both parties, the claim must not only be accepted, but then reciprocated. Should the claimed life form accept and then vocalize a similar claim on the Time Lord, and should that claim also be accepted, then the chemical that acts as a Temporal Resonance Augmentor will be released. In a bond between two Time Lords, this hormone will, of course, cause the bonded pair to be tuned to each other despite whatever changes may be caused by regeneration.
"In a bond with a non-Gallifreyan life form, this will still cause the Time Lord to be in tune with its mate's needs, but it will also affect the mate, once introduced to their body during the physical mating. The mate will be given many of the healing capabilities of the Time Lord.
"Since this has never occurred, any other side effects are only speculative, but it has been hypothesized that any species that does not have telepathic abilities may be changed enough for them to communicate with their mate or possibly anyone. It has even been theorized that if the being has had contact with the Time Vortex, then a life span comparable to a Gallifreyan life span could be granted."
Rose put down the book. She'd learned everything she needed to know right now. What it boiled down to, when put it terms that weren't dictated by a scientist who wanted everything to be in its own little box, was this: the Doctor loved her. For whatever reason, he thought she was "the best" and that she was his equal. He'd held back for so long, and she'd probably never understand why, but he wasn't holding back any longer. Couldn't any longer. Likely, he'd been so scared by the recent event with the Wire, that he was acting on instinct, and instinct told him to claim her.
Rose wanted this permanent bond. She wanted all of him. And, right now, it would be so easy to take him.
Rose Tyler examined the sleeping man in front of her. She was tempted to remove the blindfold, but she had promised she wouldn't force him. Maybe she should let him sleep. He'd no slept properly in far too long, and this book seemed to indicate his body was going through changes since she'd accepted the claim. But how long did she have to make her own claim? Had she already lost her chance?
There really was only one way to find out. Well, two, but she didn't know how long it would take her to find the answer in that book, and Rose had waited long enough. Still, just because she was going to wake him up, didn't mean she had to be mean about it. She could have a bit of fun. Rose leaned in and breathed the scent of the Doctor. He could use a shower, but there was something real, something reassuring about his muskiness.
Rose gave into a temptation she'd had for ages. She began to nibble his Adam's apple. The Doctor moaned. Uncertain if he was awake yet, Rose trailed her way slowly up to his ear, enjoying every whimper and gasp.
"Mine." She whispered before sucking on his earlobe.
"Yours." He muttered, and then gasped, stiffening beneath her. He must be awake now, she figured. "Rose." His voice wasn't quite as thrilled as she might have hoped. "Do you know what you've done?" He actually sounded a bit panicked. Probably figured she'd freak when she learned that she'd just bonded them permanently. Well, wouldn't it be interesting to see his reaction when he learned she'd done it on purpose.
"I know, Doctor. The TARDIS gave me a book. And I want you. I want all of you. I want as close to forever as I can get. Is that okay?"
"Oh, Rose. My Rose."
"Yours. Your Rose. My Doctor."
"Your Doctor."
The Doctor held her head still with a gentle yet firm hand at her neck. How he managed to so seamlessly find her lips with his, she'd never know. And, as long as he continued to kiss her like that, she'd never care.