Kallisti
Chapter 25: Five Times Five
Rose slept alone that night in the big bed of Theed's borrowed room, in the royal suite that was quite empty except for herself. The Doctor had stayed at the Hospital with Ro, giving instantly obeyed orders that kept the Polyfather lightly sedated. They were still talking when Theed had Dustin escort Rose back to the palace. Rose rather suspected the Doctor would stay there all night, talking to the twins until they lost consciousness and then wandering the halls appropriating portable medical supplies for the TARDIS's haphazardly available Med Bay. She smiled whimsically as she curled up beneath the duvet, wondering if there had ever been a more thoroughly botched wedding night in the entire history of the world.
When he stumbled in, Theed on his arm, at day break, the Doctor didn't even think about it twice, just dropped the exhausted human into his own bed and went to find his Rose. He shucked his shoes and robes and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms. Then he crawled in beside her and let her sleep, holding her, whispering the future to her in a language he never spoke, using the more elegant, precise words to paint impossible pictures of true eternity into her dreams.
She slept hard and woke late, and when she found him lying there with her, a delicate, inviting smile traced her lips. He grinned down at her. "Soon," he promised, though her sleep hazed mind probably couldn't imagine what was happening soon, or possibly even what "soon" meant.
They went to the hospital to wait for Fred to awaken, a still bleary-eyed Theed and the ever present Dustin for escorts. They stopped by Danika's room and found Ro sleeping quietly in a large chair at her side. Rose went over to him and kissed his cheek. He smiled in his sleep and curled up tighter, then opened his eyes and blinked at her. "Love you, baby sister," he told her.
"Love you, too," she said tenderly. "Go back to sleep, everything's fine."
He nodded and closed his eyes. Theed and the Doctor both went over and touched his hand briefly, then headed back into the hall to go to Fred's room.
They found the High Priestess in her own room, reclined in a nest of pillows on a politely curtained hospital bed. Privacy had been tantamount in the Doctor's orders for her, so when she fluttered her eyes and finally forced them open, she found only her family at her side, Rose holding on to her hand.
"Are you feeling better?" Rose asked her, tentatively.
"Dunno," she replied. "I can't tell if I'm feeling anything."
Theed stepped up beside her and kissed her cheek. The Doctor took her free hand and checked her pulse, then watched her eyes carefully as she followed his fingers in a series of quick, professionally detached tests. Then, he too leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Time heals," he promised.
"In more ways then one, apparently," she agreed with a small, fragile smile. "You're a good doctor, Doctor."
"Thank you," he said. "I do try. I'm not sure I always succeed, but I always try."
Rose leaned in closer to Fred. "Do you want to talk about it? They can stay or go, I'll listen, either way."
Fred sighed. "It's not really... I mean, you were there." She turned fitfully in her bed and faced Rose. "It's just, I've never killed anyone before. I know he would never have left my family in peace, and I know he tried to kill my brother, but I still didn't want to kill him."
Rose patted her hand. "Everyone in this room's killed someone, Fred," she said, continuing undaunted even as the Doctor shot her a startled look. She was surprised he didn't know she knew about that, but how could she have avoided the knowledge when he avoided everything about it so constantly? "We all would have preferred an easier choice, we all would have rather left them in peace. Just so you know that you're not alone. We love you, we'll be with you and listen if you want to talk and hold you if you want to cry."
Fred nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I just want to know what to do with the guilt."
Rose reached over and took the Doctor's hand. "Just think what it would have cost, Fred," she advised. "Remember that peace isn't always free. And be good to yourself. You're not responsible for other people's choices - they make their own and sometimes all you can do is protect the ones you love and the ones who are innocent any way you can."
The Doctor smiled. "Keep your loved ones close," he suggested, "to remember that you can't always keep them safe but you must always do whatever you can."
"And remember we love you, no matter what," finished Theed.
They talked to her for some time, probably hours, Rose thought, until Fred seemed much less in shock and much more herself. Ro came in half-way through the conversation to offer his opinion that his sister had been very brave in the defense of her oath to the people. He also offered sincere apologies for her sorrow, and held her while she cried out her gratitude for his life and Danika's promised speedy recovery.
They were getting ready to leave and head back to the palace when Fred stopped Rose. The men left them alone to talk for a few minutes. "He ruined your party, and I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm so relieved he didn't hurt you."
"Or Ro," Rose added. "Don't worry. I think I'll go wash my hair, though." She fingered the strand of beads, which were tucked into the wayward bun she'd thrown her hair into after a quick shower earlier.
"Just cut them loose," Fred suggested. "Your husband's meant to have them as a good luck charm."
Rose smiled. "My husband, such as he is, probably wouldn't know what to make of them."
"Your husband, such as he is, will probably be happy to have them. I'll see you in the morning. Let me know if you still need that annulment."
"Why wouldn't I?" Rose asked, a quiet melancholy stealing over her.
Fred grinned, impishly. "You tell me in the morning. Good luck."
"Why're you stuck here tonight, anyway?"
"Observation. There's more to worry about from a damaged mind than a damaged body here, you know. Danika'll be out before I am. Besides, I like the drugs. Pink elephants are very entertaining, you know."
Rose giggled and left the room, shaking her head.
Her husband, such as he was, was waiting for her and took her hand.
"Danika is asleep," said Ro. "I think I'd just as soon stay with her here, if you don't mind. Theed will look after you."
"Wistfully," Theed added with a grin. "C'mon, we'll just have an early supper delivered to the suite. We could all probably do with an early night."
Ro chuckled. "Do we have to draw him aside and offer manly advice?"
"You were s'posed to do that before the wedding," teased Rose.
The Doctor grinned at the twins, and shook his head. "Ah well," he said, eyes twinkling fit to start a small fire, "marry in haste, repent when Jackie Tyler chases you screaming 'round her kitchen table."
"That's going to be too funny," said Rose, her tongue between her teeth as she grinned. "I expect you'd better bring her flowers."
"And chocolate," suggested Theed. "Women like chocolate."
They said goodnight to Ro and went on to the royal suite by way of a small entrance at the side. "Stealth entrance," offered Theed, humorously. "Secret passageways and all that jazz."
"You'd be more likely to tell the world about a secret passage than the correct way," said Rose.
"Aw, and now you've figured us out completely."
Theed left after finishing dinner, ostensibly to deal with some things he'd neglected. Rose rather thought he was going to try to pick up the pretty lady who'd brought them their food and chided him for his table manners.
"Alone at last," the Doctor exclaimed wearily, kicked off his trainers, and shrugged out of his jacket.
"Now what?" she asked, plaintively, as they collapsed side by side onto the sofa.
He turned to her, dark eyes liquid and fathomless, and reached up to brush away a lock of her hair. "Why don't we talk about that?"
She nodded. "I'd like that," she said softly.
"We can keep going on like we have been doing. It's comfortable, as safe as we're going to get, and almost domestic in the simplicity of it. You like that, don't you? We're friends, the best of friends, aren't we?"
"Oh yes," she admitted.
"It's good what we have, isn't it? And we don't need to muck it up."
"No, that's true," she said with a resigned sigh.
The storm appeared now behind his eyes, glowing, burning. "But we've changed, haven't we? Time's changed us, Malaclypse has changed us, me touching your mind has changed us. I would have broken the link at any time, you know."
"I know. But you didn't."
"I couldn't," he said. "I could not do it. I could not find the will within myself to separate our minds. I liked having your presence with me, even when you were miles away. I delighted in knowing the things you were thinking, I thrilled at watching you master a skill so other-worldly no human has ever done better, I enjoyed knowing what you were feeling, sharing your ideas, seeing the world through your eyes like that. These few days have been the most brilliant days I have ever spent with you. And not just because I learned how your body responds to my touch, although I admit that makes me insufferably smug."
She smiled tenderly at him and brushed a hand along his jaw. "Everything makes you insufferably smug. Now, you're just smugger."
"That's not a word," he said with a laugh.
"Is too. I made it, just for you."
"You do a lot of things just for me," he said, tenderly.
"Yeah, well, you do a lot for me, too, Doctor. Don't try to say you don't, 'cuz I know going to see my mum isn't exactly your favorite thing. Or your second favorite. Or anywhere on your list of favorites, except maybe right above running for our lives while creepy things try to kill us."
"When I tell Jackie what I've done this time, I will be running for my life while a creepy thing tries to kill me," he said.
"I'll protect you," she teased.
"Thanks," he said. Then, his face got very close. His voice wrapped round her with flippancy and tenderness, a subtle seduction that was quiet and crazy and just so like him. "So, what do you think, Rose Tyler? Want to go half-shares in a one-of-a-kind time machine? She's had one careful owner, I think... and one barking mad, careless one, as you may have noticed." He lifted a hand to her face and held her breathless inches from him, bewitching her with his eyes. "We can go back from here, or we can go forward."
"If we go back," she said, resolutely restraining herself from throwing her arms around him and dragging him down to resolve the whole issue, "would you be happier? You know what'll happen. I'll get old and you'll still be beautiful."
"That's my excuse," he admitted. "Would I be happier? With you or without you..." He smiled at her then. "Know why I came back?"
"When?"
"That very first day, the first time I met you, well I say first, but it depends on your temporal perspective, doesn't it? But you remember, me, big ears, leather jacket, mad about you?"
She nodded, and chewed her lip at the inadvertent confession at the end of that sentence.
"I don't ask twice, Rose. But I had to, 'cuz it already hurt too much to lose you. So if I was going to try not to hurt without you, I'd have to never meet you in the first place."
"S'bit late for that," she said quietly, looking at her hands in her lap.
"Way too late," he agreed in that hazy soft voice, tucking his hand under her chin and lifting her eyes to meet his. "I made my choice," he said, "the night before. I'll let you think about it, give you time, all the time you need. I thought I might go get a shower, let you have some time to yourself. Is that ok?"
"Yeah. Think I'll go to Fred's room, she's got this bath tub you'd have to see to believe."
As the water pounded across his back, the Doctor knew he had done the right thing. His Rose must never have less than the very best and, if she didn't believe that was him, then he would never try to persuade her otherwise. Though he longed for her hands to touch him, though he ached for her arms to hold him, it had to be a choice she made of her own decided will.
He stepped out and dried and put on fresh jim-jams, and settled into a side chair to wait for her. If she decided to come from her bath and fall straight into the bed, leaving him sitting there alone, leaving him as alone as he had ever been, then he had to honor her decision though his every atom of his existence demanded that he at least try again.
Rose, only Rose, was the one he would always try again for, but not this time. This was their one moment, and everything that they were going to be together depended on what she wanted and nothing else.
When she entered, her step was so soft that he didn't even hear her. If it wasn't for that faint fragrance that was Rose, that soft mental presence that was her touch to their link, and a soft clicking sound he couldn't identify, he wouldn't have realized she was there.
But she would never be far away from him now, he knew that, as soon as she reached down and brushed her hand over his shoulder.
"Doctor," she whispered. "Fred said I'm to give this to you, for luck."
He reached out and took the small, brilliantly colored strand of beads, woven at one end with her own golden curl, and smiled. "Thank you," he said, and reached out to run a finger over the golden cuff she still wore. His collar was on the night stand, so a quick series of deft gestures put the cuff beside it.
"You never did get that kiss," she reminded him, in sweet, lingering tones. Her pale pink night dress was sheer and soft and looked like temptation itself, hugging her body in places, hiding others in a silky pink fog.
"You're right," he said and desperately, finally, took her into his arms. Fire and ice collided inside his head and his body caught flame at the very knowledge of where they could go from here. "I think I will now."
Quickly, before anything else could interrupt them, come between them, before Sod's Law could gather resources to stop him, he lowered his lips to hers. She trembled softly in his arms as he brushed his mouth over hers, planning to savor every sip, every glimpse, every sigh of her for as long as his hearts beat in his chest. Her lips parted with aching slowness, and the trembling slowly stopped. He ventured with his tongue between his parted teeth, to brush each of her lips with small, slow strokes, then wandered farther still, into her mouth, to taste her breath, to learn her unique flavor.
She moaned low in her throat and, all at once, was kissing him back, that little pink tongue that so captivated his thoughts now exploring his mouth with intensity that was at once giving and demanding, so very perfect, so very Rose. Her hands clenched against his slender back, her nails scraping lightly against the fabric of his night shirt. His own hands closed on her waist, pulling her closer, teasing the flesh under her nightgown.
He gasped loudly when their lips parted, his blood racing through his veins and his head swimming from the pleasure of their embrace. "Still ok?" he asked softly.
"Ummm," she said, and raised her lips to trace the line of his jaw. His skin tingled where she touched him, so alive every where their bodies met. He lowered his head and nibbled lingeringly at the pale pink shell of her ear, delighting in the way this made her body move against him.
He sighed happily and turned his head to steal another kiss, one he could feel down to his toes. He raked his fingers through her slightly damp hair, massaged the back of her skull just to hear her purr like a kitten, just to enjoy the frisson of his fingers on her skin. When he pulled away from her this time, it was with the knowledge that he had to stop soon or never ever stop touching her at all.
Somehow during the kiss, her small hands had worked their way under his pajama top and were brushing trails up his bare chest, her human body temperature higher than his and setting his skin on fire every where they touched. He gasped her name as her fingers circled his flat nipples, and she smirked up at him, her tongue between her teeth looking like an invitation he could scarcely ignore.
"Are you all right?" she teased, her voice low and husky and seductive.
He wondered how he could get her to say his name in that voice.
He smiled down at her, though, and lay caressing fingers on her face. "Much better than that," he promised.
"Really?" She giggled.
He smirked and, with careful concentration, to insure he didn't hurt her, opened the link between them fully. "Before this gets out of hand, you need to know one last thing. This will never go away. Ever." Then he leaned in and kissed her again, letting her know, this time, exactly what it felt like to him to suck her lower lip between his teeth and nibble at it gently, to tease her lips apart with his tongue, to share the very air she breathed.
And suddenly she was with him, and he could feel it, the way his kiss made her knees tremble, made her heart throb sharply in her chest. She shared with him every nuance, so he knew that she particularly delighted in the way his tongue brushed over the roof of her mouth, that she was filled with wonder and joy and the relief that only came from finding the perfect answer to a question you didn't know you had. She was having trouble thinking clearly, but didn't care, because this was her pleasure and her delight, and this kiss was worth everything.
"My Doctor," she told him, possessively, both with her voice and in her mind.
Relieved, he grinned at her. "My Rose." He lifted her lightly into his arms, as though she were softer than clouds and more precious that diamonds. Her laughter was a merry twinkle in his ears as he spun her around, then set her gently down on the bed. She reclined artfully against the pillows, her eyes admiring him as he slid up the mattress toward her. She had no idea how beautiful she was, in form and word and deed and thought.
So he told her. He told her in words, and then he told her with lingering, adoring kisses that worshipped every exposed inch of her skin. Temptation led him further, and he was never one to refuse the urge to jump. His hands found her breasts, teasing them with the very tips of his fingers, feeling them harden against the silk of her night gown, against the roughness of his fingers. She arched her back into his hands, little gasps of pleasure escaping her lips. When he lowered his head to taste them, the silk added to the experience, even as it separated him from his new goal to taste her everywhere.
When he stopped for a moment, just to look at her, she gave a low groan of frustration and, with surprising strength, wrenched his pajama top open. Buttons popped and flew every which way, and she smirked at him in triumph, availing herself of his lap and settling in to trail burning kisses across his bare shoulders and chest, her hands guiding the shirt off his arms more gently now, though he had to stop caressing her silk clad hip to shake out of the sleeves.
Gradually, he turned her, until she was straddling him, the gown hiked up enticingly around her pale thighs. He kissed her as he worked at the straps and, giving up, pulled back and tugged it off over her head.
The tiny pink towel of just a few days ago had given him a lot to imagine about what he would see now, but the reality was so much more glorious, a vision. He whispered her name as her cheeks colored and her eyes burned into him, her breasts brushing his chest. He fell back onto the bed, taking her with him, keeping her body close to him and turning them so that now he was straddling her.
Then he sat back on his heels and just admired her, her body covered now only by a pale blue bit of cloth at her waist and his hungry gaze. He started babbling, and couldn't stop himself, she was so perfect, from the slender column of her throat, her pale shoulders, her pert, dusky tipped breasts, her slender waist and rounded hips.
"I think you're gorgeous, too," she interrupted. "But, you know, sorta over-dressed."
He grinned and nodded and, with a quick tug and a bit of an embarrassed wriggle, stretched out at her side, bared to her hungry eyes and questing fingers.
Rose's heart nearly stopped as he turned those eyes on her, a self-conscious question so easy to see. What did she think? Seriously, he thought she could think, at a moment like this? With him lying there like that, long, lean body, hard muscle under soft skin, and so obviously, impressively aroused? Her fantasies had always been a little vague. But here he was, now, naked to her loving gaze, looking every inch a human male, only better, because he was the Doctor, because he was hers.
She whispered his name against his skin as she bent to kiss him, shivering, aching as her sensitive nipples rubbed against his body. He was shaking, just a little, though whether it was from nerves or the difficulty of control, she wasn't sure.
Her heart raced desperately with want and longing and desire, as he raised his arms and crushed her to him, tracing the line of her spine, lowering to caress her bottom, sliding down her thighs, maneuvering her body until there was nothing separating them but her tiny knickers. He whispered her name like a prayer, and the very sound of his voice burned into her soul. She rocked against him, an ancient rhythm, and he encouraged her, raising his hips to meet her, circling her nipple with his tongue.
She closed her eyes tight, whimpered and moaned, shocked that any experience in any world could ever be like this. She was hot and wet and burning and impatient, and she had to feel him, all of him, every inch of him, on her, around her, in her, now, now, now.
Light exploded behind her eyelids and she cried out, her eyes flying open now to see him smiling up at her, awestruck, admiring, so in love. It was all she could do to collapse to his chest as he licked the salt from her skin, bringing her back to the world with him, and driving her higher at the same time.
His hips clenched then, and he moved sharply, rolling them over until she was under him. His hands found the waist band of her knickers and eased them from her hips and, with agonizing slowness, down her thighs and off. He sat back to look at her, again, a question in his eyes as plain as his throbbing erection between them.
It would kill her to turn back now, even if she wanted to, which she didn't because she wanted him as much as he wanted her, maybe even more. "Yes, Doctor," she breathed. "Oh, god, yes."
He knelt between her parted thighs, brushing his fingers over the damp nest of dark curls between them. She bucked into his touch, and he bit his lip, seizing the last small measure of control he had left, and slowly guided himself into her ready entrance. Every nerve in his body was singing out for her, for the completion of this priceless union, but he wanted to savor every instant of it. He slid into her, inch by agonizing inch, breathing her glory with every breath he dragged into his mouth. She reached for him them, caught his hips and arched her own and he was inside of her, and on fire. She felt better than he had ever dared imagine.
He let her set their rhythm, long and slow strokes that ached and thrilled and made it hard to remember to breathe. She was with him, around him, and he wondered whether it was more thrilling to feel her or feel her respond to him. He bit his lip, hard, concentrating on that last vestige of control as all her muscles clenched around him, as she screamed out his name with complete abandon in the throes of her pleasure.
The sound shook him to his very soul, stopped time, dragged the entire Universe to a halt, and echoed throughout every moment of his life. She had always felt that she was his, but he was hers, too. So what if he could save the world. He belonged to Rose Tyler, that was the important part. He thrust deep into her again, even as the waves of her own pleasure broke over him, and flung himself after her from the very heights.
Afterward, they lay together, spent and utterly exhausted, so tangled up in each other that it was hard to tell where she began and he ended. Rose's eyes closed and he turned their bodies carefully, so that she could rest her golden head on his chest. He smiled as he felt her drift off to happy little dreams, the body memory of their lovemaking still tingling on his skin. "Good night, my Rose, my wife," he murmured and, much to his own surprise, felt himself dragged under by sleep.