Thanks so much for all those who have read, reviewed, followed, and favourited! I hope you all enjoy this next one: It is a Nine/Rose one-shot. I ship Rose and Ten, but I always love how Nine is so absolutely besotted with Rose. But he also likes to give her a hard time, covering up his feelings behind that leather jacket of his. I hope I did him justice in this.
WARNING: A lot of FLUFF! :D There should be a new category: "Fluff without Plot"! (FWP) That would be this!
DISCLAIMER: Of course I don't own anything to do with Doctor Who or the characters, but they're just so fun to write about! How could I resist?
Enjoy,
Louise
Chapter #2: Stung
"You stupid little ape!" the Doctor barked. "Typical! I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you finding trouble! Too jeopardy-friendly, you are."
Rose's eyes filled with hot rage and she opened her mouth to retort, but all that came out was a hoarse gurgle. Reacting to the raw pain, her hands flew to her throat.
"You had to go and get stung by that firewasp, after I told you not to touch anything until I made sure it was safe," he shook his head as Rose mutely stamped her foot and glared at him. He hoped she wouldn't see his fear beneath the mask of anger: she might get the idea that he was becoming sentimental toward her. He carefully observed her: face flushed, beads of perspiration on her forehead and upper lip. "And you're developing a fever, too. What am I going to do with you now? Take you home to your Mummy? You're no use to me like this."
If looks could kill, he was sure she would have forced him to regenerate several times in that last few seconds. She started to take an aggressive step toward him, but her legs crumpled underneath her as a wave of vertigo washed over her. He swept her into his arms before she struck the ground. "Right then, back home with you," he began to stride back to the T.A.R.D.I.S. She weakly thumped his leather-clad chest with a clenched fist in protest.
"Oh, don't worry," he reassured her acerbically. "With my luck, Jackie would probably have a second-hand reaction to the venom. Much as I'd love to see her rendered speechless, it's not worth the personal risk. I'm still recovering from the last time she slapped me."
"Oi," Rose managed to rasp out. Her outburst was followed by a groan of pain.
"I suppose you'll have to stay," he stated, ignoring her rebuke. "Now, just you hold still, Rose," he chided as she began to wriggle in protest at being carried, and he tightened his grip. He thought that it felt quite nice to have her in his arms, but he wouldn't let on about that: it might send the wrong message; she was just his companion after all. "Honestly, I don't know how you lot manage with your weak human immune systems. The T.A.R.D.I.S. should have something to make you feel better, though. Then some bed rest for a few days, and you'll be back to normal," he gave her a cheeky, see-how-clever-I-am smile. It quickly turned to a frown at her expression of exasperation, "You're lucky it's only a couple of days, Rose Tyler. Maybe that'll teach you not to go wandering off the second my back is turned. You're nothing but trouble, you are." She crossed her arms belligerently over her chest and turned her face away from him. He smiled at her fondly, knowing she couldn't see it, and pulled her just a little closer to him, once again.
He brought her to the T.A.R.D.I.S.'s med-bay and laid her down on the examination table. Her arms were still firmly crossed and she was resolutely not meeting his eye as he ran some scans. He was sure he saw a trace of tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. "Well, just as I thought, Rose. The effects of the toxin will just have to run their course. But I can give you something to help your fever … and your sore throat, I suppose. And here I was thinking I would get some peace and quiet for a change." He noticed her tense up even more in response to that last statement. He grinned in delight at the prospect of the tongue-lashing he was sure to receive once she had her voice back. He placed the medication patch on the inside of her wrist and then tenderly scooped her into his arms again. "Off to bed, now. No arguments!"
Once in her bedroom, he laid her on the bed, and beamed his madcap grin down at her. "There, you go, Rose, you just rest now. I'll come check on you in a little while." She did not acknowledge him, just huffed, and turned her back to him. "See you later, then," he said cheerily, with no intentions of coming back any time very soon if she was going to treat him like that. If she wanted to sulk, then she could suffer alone. A little bit of suffering would do her good, and he wouldn't have to suffer her moodiness. Besides, he would be close by, but she didn't need to know that.
He had only just shut her door, and was striding towards the console room, when he heard a loud thump and a pained cry from her room. His hearts clenched in a quick spasm of guilt. "Rose?" he cracked the door open, and peered in to see her crumpled on the floor, halfway to the bathroom. As he rushed toward her, he could see her back heaving with silent sobs. He was filled with shame for having left her without properly seeing to her needs. "Rose! Come 'ere." She yanked away from his extended hand, fury at her helplessness clouding her features. "I'm sorry, Rose. Please let me help. You'll never manage with that toxin affecting your immune system."
By all the gods he didn't believe in, she was stubborn! She still struggled to get up on her own, but he offered his arm to her again. Reluctantly, with a quick, embarrassed glance, her eyes met his and she leaned on the proffered limb and hauled herself to her feet. He felt her stiffen as his arm slipped around her waist, but he refused to let her go.
He helped her into the bathroom. "I'll be just outside, Rose. Oh, for goodness sake, don't worry," he rolled his eyes at her squeak of protest, and her shooing gesture. "I won't listen. Honestly, over 900 years old and I've never met anyone as silly as you! Just signal me when you're ready to go back to bed, or if you need help." He sighed and stood resignedly outside the bathroom door until she opened it behind him, leaning weakly against the door frame.
"Right then, bed, Rose Tyler. Come 'ere," he took her hand and she leaned into him as they made their way to the bed. "Now, Rose, where do you keep your pyjamas?" Her eyebrows shot up in shock. "Well, you're not going to lie in bed for two or three days in your jeans are you? I won't look while you change … promise. Now where are they?"
Soon she was sitting up in bed with soft pillows at her back, dressed in her cozy flannel pyjamas – he had only peeked once – and a cup of warm tea in her hand. He thought his hearts would melt when she patted the mattress beside her, and held out her half-finished copy of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince". "What do you want now, Rose?" he said curtly, his words belying his true feelings. "You are quite capable of reading that book by yourself. It doesn't need to be read out loud. I have things to do, you know. Can't waste my day entertaining you." She pleaded to him with imploring eyes, and an endearing smile. He made a show of yielding to her silent request with much groaning and blustering before removing his jacket and sitting down next to her. He draped one arm around her shoulders and picked up the book with the other.
When had he allowed her to wrap him so entirely around her little finger? It was categorically domestic, that's what it was! And as she snuggled into his chest, listening to him read, he found that he really didn't care: if this was domestic, then it was fantastic! But he wouldn't tell her that.
