A little more Ten/Rose domestics, because it's ridiculously fun. :)
Rose blow-dried her hair and put on a comfortable pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt. She thought about these little 'moments' with the Doctor that inevitably came when living in such close quarters, and instead of thinking them awkward, she was now rather enjoying them. Maybe she would even get her own 'bathtub moment' but with the tables turned, she thought with a sultry grin making its way across her face as she left her room and went into the kitchen.
The Doctor finished his invigorating shower, changed, and headed back out into the flat where he joined Rose in the kitchen. He had changed into his new blue suit trousers, but had forgone the jacket and tie, instead just wearing a white oxford, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the first few buttons of his collar undone. Rose couldn't deny she was disappointed that he had yet to wear the jeans he had purchased on their first shopping trip, but she couldn't complain about seeing him dressed like this. He would dress-down more casually in the evenings when they stayed in, and Rose relished seeing him with less layers and simply more laid-back. Rose thought the easy, casual look made him even more gorgeous, if possible.
"Hello," he said, his voice soft and content as he stepped into the kitchen, his hands tucked lazily in his pockets.
Rose turned from where she stood at the open refrigerator door and smiled back at him. "Hey," she replied, all earlier tension gone, and the two of them just ridiculously happy to be in each other's company.
"We staying in for dinner tonight?" he asked, as he walked closer and Rose sat the vegetables she had removed from the refrigerator down into the sink.
"I thought we would, yeah. Is that alright with you?"
"Fine by me," he said with a smile. "So, what's for dinner?"
Rose stood at the sink washing off the vegetables and grinned to herself at how domesticated he sounded. "Stir-fry," she replied, as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "You wanna do whatever it is you do with the sonic and cook the sirloin steak then cut it into strips?"
He removed the sonic screwdriver from his pocket with a flourish, twirled it in the air and caught it with his other hand. "Consider it done. Setting 1483.9."
Rose began chopping the peppers, mushrooms and onions, then put them in the skillet. The Doctor finished his task and came over to assist Rose with the vegetables.
"I have a setting for those as well, you know," he told her, as he waved the sonic in the direction of the skillet.
Rose shook her head as she gave the vegetables a stir and drizzled a bit more oil in the pan. "Your way might be faster, but I prefer doing the vegetables this way." She inhaled deeply, enjoying the savory aroma filling the kitchen. "There's nothing like the smell of peppers and onions sautéing in a hot skillet. Do it with the sonic, and you lose the effect."
The Doctor came up behind Rose and leaned in closer as he looked over her shoulder while she continued to stir. The heat coming from the skillet in front of Rose was suddenly surpassed by the heat now radiating from the Doctor's close proximity. He placed his hand on the small of her back as he leaned over her shoulder. Rose felt a tingle surge through her at the contact, making her breath catch and her heart-rate speed up.
Surely he could feel this too, she thought. How could he not? She had to focus to keep her breathing even and not show the effect he was having on her.
Living with this man was going to be the death of her, Rose thought to herself. How could she continue to share such close living quarters with him, be in such close proximity, and pretend he didn't have such a strong effect on her — not act upon the intense feelings he stirred within her every time their eyes met or he took her hand or, in this case, when he touched her?
"You have a point," the Doctor said, his voice sounding low and smooth in her ear as he peered over her shoulder while she continued to stir, her focus now completely gone from the task at hand. He took a long, deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the vegetables; yet with their closeness, Rose felt as if he was breathing in her scent as well. That thought alone made a shiver of desire run through her. "This way does have its appeal." He turned his head to her as he spoke.
Rose turned to him at that same moment, their faces now mere inches apart. "Yes, it does have its appeal," Rose responded, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt right at this moment. Their gaze locked, his dark brown eyes almost burning into hers as he looked back at her. Time seemed to slow to a stop. Rose could no longer hear the sizzling of the skillet. All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.
As if drawn by an unstoppable force, her eyes fell upon his lips; his full, soft bottom lip that he'd just moistened with this tongue in a motion that stole her breath away, and then...
The moment was instantly broken as the Doctor removed his hand from her and took a step back. In a swift move that left her dizzy he then hopped up to sit on the counter beside her. "So, how was your day, then?" he asked brightly, as if completely unaffected by what had just transpired between them and nothing at all had happened.
Rose forced herself to take a long, steadying breath as she regained her equilibrium. Yes, she thought to herself, he was definitely going to be the death of her.
She turned her attention back to cooking and tried to sound as nonchalant as the Doctor when she replied. "Oh, same old. You know." She moved about the kitchen, assembling the rest of the ingredients for dinner. "Still no luck," Rose continued, with a tinge of frustration in her voice at her lack of success in finding a job.
The Doctor hopped off the counter and took up stirring the vegetables in the skillet. "You know, it could be quite easy if you'd just let me…"
"We've already been through this," Rose cut him off. "It might take me a bit longer, but I can find a job on my own."
"Fine, fine," he said placatingly. "But the offer still stands if you change your mind." The Doctor didn't really understand Rose's insistence on finding a job on her own without his help, but he admired her determination none the less.
"So what about you? How was your day?" she asked, as they continued together preparing dinner. Rose felt a touch of surrealism at asking him such an everyday question. They both sounded so domestic now. A small part of her wished it could last.
"Weeell, let's see. Christy Sevitts aced the test I gave today in class. She clearly has a head for math. I think she could take any algebraic equation I threw at her. But what pleased me most was Josh Brennan. He only made a C, but he's already shown improvement from where he was last week. Given time, I'll have him factoring quadratics with the best of them."
Rose smiled softly. The Doctor seemed to clearly enjoy teaching, and his delight over the student's progress was evident. "You inspire them," she said warmly.
"Not all of them," he replied with a shake of his head. "If Angela Scott would stop staring at me with her eyes glazed over and actually pay attention, then maybe she'd learn something."
Rose laughed. "She has a crush on you," she stated, then added with a shrug, "It's only natural."
The Doctor leaned casually back against the counter and arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Well, yeah," she continued. "Most students have a crush on at least one of their teachers during their school years."
"Did you?" he questioned, as he picked up a strip of steak and popped it in his mouth.
Rose paused to think about it. "Well, no actually. But then again, none of my teachers were..." she stopped herself, swallowing the words she had been about to say, then turned back to busy herself at the counter.
"None of them were what?" he pressed, a definite hint of smugness in his tone.
Rose took a deep breath. He could be so maddening at times! He knew exactly what he was pushing her to say. Maybe she should just come out with it and have it done. I never had a teacher who was a gorgeous, sexy alien. So there!
She turned back to face him. "They were all older. Much older."
"I'm over nine hundred," he pointed out, then thought about that for a moment. "Maybe I should tell that to Angela Scott. The age gap might deter her."
Rose chuckled. "Well, if she's a determined girl then it wouldn't matter. An age gap isn't important if someone really cares about another person," she said, and suddenly the conversation was no longer about the Doctor's love-struck student.
"Doesn't it?" he asked softly, a shadow of regret in his eyes. Regret over things that could never be, and the reasons why they could never be.
"No, it doesn't," Rose replied with firm conviction. "Like they say, age is just a number. It's not something that matters if two people truly care about each other."
"Ah, but those numbers represent years." He took a long, deep breath, then released it. "Years' worth of regrets and burdens. It's not fair to place all that on another person and expect them to carry it, too." His eyes were suddenly distant and haunted, those regrets and burdens he spoke of clearly at the front of his thoughts.
Rose looked into his eyes, drawing them back to hers as she spoke softly. "But that's part of what a relationship is about. It's about carrying those burdens with the other person so they don't have to do it alone."
The Doctor held her gaze and swallowed thickly, then broke eye contact and turned to remove some plates from the cabinet. He chuckled, but there was no humor in his tone. "Well, I think that's asking a lot of Angela Scott, don't you think? She's not even out of school yet."
With resignation, Rose chuckled slightly, too, and turned her attention back to finishing dinner. They both knew the conversation ceased being about Angela Scott long ago.
-:-
Once dinner was prepared, they filled their plates, but rather than sit at the table Rose took her food and headed for the living room, setting her plate on the small coffee table in front of the couch as she reached for the remote.
"Dinner and telly?" the Doctor asked, as he followed and sat down on the couch beside her with his own plate of food.
Rose grinned. "I found out By the Light of the Asteroid comes on in the evenings, too, on channel 3069. Have you ever watched it?"
The Doctor took a bite of food and tilted his head in thought. "Is that the one with the twins?"
"That's the one!" she said enthusiastically. "Joofie Crystalle is gettin' married in tonight's episode."
The Doctor shook his head and made a disapproving sound. "It'll never last. This makes husband number five."
Rose smirked. The Doctor was ever the expert, apparently even when it came to galactic soap operas.
They had both settled back comfortably together on the couch after they finished their dinner. Once Rose's program was over, the Doctor flipped channels and settled on Star Trek, pointing out the inaccuracies to Rose and saying that a Klingon's forehead ridges were in actuality much less pronounced.
Rose sat up and gave him a disbelieving look. "You're sayin' there really are such things as Klingons?"
"Of course there are," he replied in all seriousness. "Really, Rose. You've seen Daleks, Slitheen, Ood, and yet you question whether Klingons are real? I just usually avoid crossing paths with them because they're not exactly the friendliest of species."
Rose just shook her head and leaned back again. "It's like I said once a long time ago, every conversation with you just goes…mental," she said with a chuckle.
Rose had settled back against the corner of the couch, angled to the side with her legs across the cushions and feet resting near the Doctor. He sat with his long legs stretched out and feet propped up atop the coffee table, with one arm draped over the back of the couch. At some point, his hand came down to rest on Rose's ankle. She didn't react, but her sole focus was now fixated on that hand currently resting upon her. She tried not to think about it; but it was amazing, actually, how such a simple thing could be so distracting. His hand then moved and he began absently stroking her foot. Rose was acutely aware of his touch, but she wondered if he even realized he was doing it. But then he spoke.
"Your plantar flexor digitorum muscles are extremely tight," he commented.
"Spent a lot of time on my feet today," she replied, trying to sound relaxed and not show the effect his touch was having on her.
It was her foot. Rose told her aroused hormones to get a grip. But then his long fingers glided back up to her ankle and slipped under the hem of her jeans, brushing across her leg as he reached the top of her sock, then eased it down and off. He then did the same to the other foot. With her bare skin beneath his fingers, he began kneading the tight muscles on the soles of her feet with his expert hands. Rose fought back the moan of pleasure that threatened to escape her lips.
"This okay?" he asked softly, as his eyes flicked up to hers and saw the tight look on her face. She was practically holding her breath. He had never touched her quite this way before. Rose forced herself to relax back against the sofa.
She let out a sigh of pleasure. "Yeah, feels lovely." He smiled softly. Rose closed her eyes and let herself relax into his touch and the feeling of pleasure it created. If he could have this effect on her just by touching her feet, how could those hands of his make 'other' parts of her body feel? Rose once again had to stop that train of thought before it got the better of her.
She had become so relaxed by his gentle, hypnotic touch that Rose felt herself beginning to drift off just as his ministrations stopped. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into his, full of warmth and infinite tenderness.
"You're tired," he said softly. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow's Saturday. We can spend the day seeing some of the sights. I could take you to the castle."
She smiled. "Yeah, that sounds good."
Rose sat up beside him. She wanted so much to lean over and give him a light kiss on the cheek. A simple gesture to say thank you. But he had taken this tiny step of increased intimacy between them, and she didn't want to read more into it than he had intended, or push it too far and make him back away. So instead she just gave him another smile and said "thank you."
After she stood, Rose turned and looked back at him. "You going to bed now too?" she asked. Rose could see the weariness behind his eyes and wondered, not for the first time, if he had been sleeping at all since they had been here.
"Oh, I don't need as much sleep as you lot, remember?" he said lightly, brushing the matter aside.
Rose looked at him firmly. "But you still need some sleep, and you haven't been getting any, have you?" she challenged.
The Doctor exhaled as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "Rose, I'm fine."
"Yeah, I know. You're always alright," she said with a sigh of resignation. She wished he would just talk to her. Open up to her at least a little about what he was feeling instead of always keeping himself stubbornly closed off. But this was his way, and she didn't see that changing any time soon. Rose gave him a faint smile. "G'night, Doctor."
He smiled briefly in return. "Night, Rose."
The Doctor didn't tell her about the nightmares. He didn't tell her that every time he closed his eyes they began, vexing and relentless. And they weren't just nightmares of the darkness in his past. They were nightmares of the future.
He watched as Rose went to her room and softly closed the door behind her. He felt a small bit of comfort knowing she was here and she was safe. For now. If only she could always be with him and he would always know she was safe. If only a storm wasn't approaching somewhere on the horizon. He had felt that haunting chill down his spine ever since their trip to the London Olympics, and it persisted. He didn't know when and he didn't know where, but he knew that storm was still coming.