AN: I have been so busy this week that I haven't had time to write any new chapters for my stories. Plus I wrote some of the chapters for my other stories when I didn't have a USB pen and I saveed them to the computer. The only problem is I haven't been able to find them. I know they're around there somewhere but I just can't find them. If I haven't come across any of them by tomorrow then I'm just going to rewrite them which is just annoying. Plus like fifteen minutes ago I just broke a filling in my tooth by eating a polo. lol...This really hasn't been a good week for me and I haven't even started on school (which was crap). Sorry, I'm ranting. Anyway, on with story...

Chapter Eleven

Ok, he decided, it wasn't as bad as the first time. He scoffed, not as bad - what a lark...she had forced him to wait last time - only mere hours ago - while she decided on a perfect dress and now, here she was, accompanied by himself and she was practically buying for London. Actually make that the United Kingdom.

He raised an eyebrow as Rose eyes gleamed at the sight of a red dress. By the looks of it, he was sure she wouldn't buy it. It wouldn't be the sort of thing Rose would buy, would it? It wasn't as if it wasn't a nice dress. He was sure it was...a nice dress.

It was long, by the look of it. And it was a deep shade of red, the kind of red that stood out against everything else in the background. Actually it was the kind of red that made everything else in the background look insignificant. It was the colour of blood red roses, the colour of dark cherry lips, the colour of...what was it, he thought to himself. What exactly was the perfect word to describe it?

It hit him in the face like a wet newspaper on a stormy day. It was the colour of passion.

He gulped. Passion.

No, he counteracted, it wasn't the colour of passion. Oh no, definitely no. Really really the opposite in fact because anything Rose wore couldn't be anything to do with a dress that was the colour of passion.

Nope, that was indeed impossible. Rose wouldn't wear something like that. No, he finally concluded, that dress was definitely not the colour of passion. Instead it was the colour of...a juicy red apple. No, not an juicy red apple because then of course a juicy red apple could (down the line) be associated with temptation - the forbidden fruit as it were - and that wouldn't be right. No, it was more the colour of...well, red. It was just a colour and colours didn't have to have meaning, did they?

Rose eyes bore into the dress. It was perfect. She didn't know why, but it was perfect, absolutely perfect in every way possible. The material felt soft underneath her fingertips, like smooth deep silk but it was more than that - it was better than mere silk - it was as if there was something about the way it felt underneath her fingertips...

It wasn't just something she wanted to have. It was something she needed to have.

That thought alone prompted her to rush over to the changing room, leaving a confusing (and slightly uneasy) Doctor, still holding a pile of clothes carefully in his hands, contemplating legging it before Rose came back. Only he knew he would stay because of one simple fact.

It was Rose.

--

Rose stared at her image in the mirror, the red formed against her like a second skin. She was right about the way it felt, almost like silk but not at the same time. It was almost as if the dress was made for her.

She shook that thought from her head. Two years ago, she wouldn't have even dreamed, imagined or contemplated ever being a planet other than Earth travelling with someone other than human and by a dress that was made from something other than...well, anything Earth produced.

She had never imagines wearing a dress like it before, but you only live once and it was unlikely they'd ever be back here again. The only constant planet the ever seemed to have a recurring trend of visiting was Earth and most of those trips the Doctor would prefer to hide in the Tardis rather than face...her mother.

She knew if her mother had ever saw her in this...well, it would be fair to say that the Doctor probably wouldn't be the only one afraid of her mother's every action.

This dress was very...well, revealing was one word that sprang to mind, but it was in a very respectable way. It had a slit up the side, it clung to her, accentuating all the right curves and it tied in a loose knot at her neck. The dress made everything more spellbound. Almost as if it wasn't real.

She smiled to herself; it would drive the Doctor insane. He'd probably be shocked at the mere fact she'd be willing to wear this. He'd complain and tell her to wear something else. Either that or he'd be even more frightened if he ever got round to reading anymore of the diary. She wondered if he'd ever get to the end of it...because he obviously hadn't by the looks of things.

She took in her image once again as her thoughts lingered on the Doctor. It would be so worth it though, just to see his reaction.

It was at that moment she decided that this was one purchase she would definitely be buying.

--

The Doctor groaned as he stood waiting beside the changing rooms. The clothes were beginning to make his arms ache from holding them. He tilted his head and moaned in annoyance, "Rose hurry up!"

The curtain was pulled back and Rose smiled, placing the red dress on the top of the pile of clothes he was holding.

"Come on!" She grinned, dragging him by the arm, "We need to get you some clothes too. So let's buy this stuff so we can get you sorted."

His brow shot up in surprise, "What?"

"Huh?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why do I need clothes?"

"If this is as fancy a party as you say it is then we need you in a black suit and tie."

He let out a moan and with the petulance of a small child he demanded, "But why can't I wear this suit?" He paused, pouting, "I like this suit. I want to wear my suit. In case you haven't noticed it's a very nice suit. A brilliant suit in fact. Don't you like my suit?"

"I love your suit, but not when there is a giant marmalade stain on it." she pointed out, "And the chocolate ice cream isn't very helpful either when going in formal wear."

Even though he couldn't see her face, he knew from experience that she was grinning, "I don't see any stain he pointed out."

She stopped abruptly and he almost toppled by the sudden stop. Before he could exclaim she had turned with a wicked smirk on her face, "Here let me point them out for you."

She bit on her bottom lip, trying to suppress the laugh that threatened to teeter. Fortunately for her, the stains were in just the right place to make him feel uncomfortable without it being obvious what she was about to do.

Placing her hand lightly on his upper arm, she gently squeezed the muscle underneath before she moved her hand downwards, feeling his intense gaze upon her; watching her movements as if she was on the verge of attacking him.

"Well," she drawled out slowly, "You have a really long one about here. I think its marmalade. It's a bit sticky." She moved her hand lower and bent down, bringing her hand to his thigh, "And this mark is definitely from that sundae you had yesterday. I told you that you should change your clothes more than one every other day." She grinned and brought up her hands to his, gently moving them upwards so she could see the bottom of his suit jacket, "Oh and there's this one!" He gulped nervously as her hand rested dangerously close to his belt. In fact it was on the open part of his suit jacket, feeling at the material of his shirt, "That's definitely chocolate sauce, don't you think?"

He responded, in a voice that was surprisingly higher pitch than usual, "Is it?" He coughed and repeated, "Is it? I hadn't noticed?" He really hoped she would remove her hand. Who knew what a woman in her state of mind could be like, especially when the close proximity of him to her was involved. It would be a disaster. How would she possibly be unable to lean forward and kiss him considering her extreme obsession of him? Not that he wanted to kiss her, but he was practically trapped holding a pile of clothes. She could almost do anything...

She suddenly pulled back and smiled, "Come on let's hurry up and get you the suit. That one is definitely dirty.

He closed his open mouth, the shock leaving him as he walked forward, almost tripping over himself and sending the pile of clothes he carried everywhere. Luckily he managed to regain his balance at the last possible moment and hurried towards the till, hoping that Rose had not noticed his sudden bout of clumsiness.

He looked down at his arm in passing and was surprised to find that there was indeed a mark there. She had been serious about his suit...where else did she say there was a mark? He cursed himself silently for not paying attention to what she said and instead focusing solely on her face.

"Doctor!" He blinked, looking over towards the source of the voice, "Come on." He trundled over to her, placing the clothes on the counter, mumbling a hasty apology, "What's up with you?" she asked slyly.

His mind seemed to be working slower than usual, he concluded. Even when after seeing the price of the amount of clothes Rose had bought, he had not reacted until he was once again found himself carrying a bundle of bags. When would one woman wear this much in a lifetime? He didn't even want to get into the shoes she had bought, but he knew that she would be complaining in pain in the near future because of foot related issues.

"Ok," she smiled, "Let's get you a suit."

--

He pulled back the curtain, seeing Rose waiting in a nearby chair reading a magazine she had found.

"What about this one?" he asked, hoping she would be happy with it. If he had to try on another suit, he wasn't sure what he would so. Three times was annoying enough, but four times...well that was just ridiculous. Sure the first one had been too large and the second one had ruffles but still, third times lucky.

Rose pulled herself away from a very interesting article on how to tell if he's a Plic. She had absolutely no idea what a Plic was, but it was time consuming enough to try and guess.

She smiled, taking in his appearance, "Nice..." Her eyes trailed over the suit, "Very James Bond."

He grinned, obviously pleased by the compliment, "Really?"

"Really." she assured.

"Ok," he paused, "We can leave now right?" She nodded, causing him to beam as he walked forward, "Brilliant."

She put a hand on his shoulder and coughed back a laugh, "You have to go get changed first so we can pay for the suit."

He looked down, grinning sheepishly, "Oh right..."

He turned on his heel and headed back inside the changing room leaving a bemused Rose to return to her investigation of a Plic was.

To be continued...

AN: I ended it there because I want to keep this seperate from when they go to the hotel. Ok so, review if you enjoyed...