The Doctor gently played with Rose's fingers, rubbing his hands over the tiny digits in an attempt to keep them warm. Stupid humans with their inefficient circulatory system. How did they expect to be able to branch out into the universe if they couldn't even survive properly on the more extreme parts of their own planet?
Now his circulation, that was biological engineering for you. Two hearts was definitely the way to go. That was the reason why he was still toasty warm and Rose's extremities were turning blue. It was also the reason why he now found himself laying on the sofa, Rose sitting between his legs, her body sprawled across his chest and his leather jacket acting as a makeshift blanket. She had been dosing on and off for hours now. Apparently the dull ache in her ankle had kept her from getting much proper sleep the night before and it was now beginning to show.
This position would have been alright for a short while, down right pleasant in fact, but it had been nearly seven hours now and it was starting to get uncomfortable. It didn't help that he was totally bored. Rose was the only interesting thing in the room, she was asleep and he didn't have the heart to wake her. Although it did give him a chance to get a good look at her in a way he wouldn't dare do whilst she was awake. For a human she was indeed quite lovely. Genetics had blessed with a face whose features complemented each other and gave her a rather adorable look. It was hardly fair really – he was sure there were people out there who weren't so lucky. But there again she didn't look as lovely now as she did when she was wide awake and there was a sparkle of adventure in her eyes. Beauty was much more than skin pulled over bones and muscle in the correct way.
He shook his head, purposefully looking elsewhere. He shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't fair and he was certain she wouldn't like it. He was a Time Lord not some kind of creepy stalker or love sick teenager, and he needed to start acting like one.
So he determinedly looked away from her face and instead busied himself with the task of keeping her fingers the right colour. He was still intent on the task twenty minutes later when he felt a subtle change in her breathing and heartbeat.
"Some company you are," he grumbled, as Rose shifted around on top of him.
"Hmm…you're warm...," she said sleepily, a dopey grin on her face.
"I've also lost all feeling in my legs," he pointed out.
Rose's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in concern.
"Sorry," she mumbled, sitting up, her hand falling from his, "You should have woken me up."
"S'alright," he reassured, trying to grin at her bed-hair sticking out in all directions, "You make a half decent blanket actually."
She smiled, whacking him lightly on the leg in admonishment as he sat up and stretched his limbs out.
"How long have we still got?" she asked, realising he was grinning at her hair and trying to smooth it down.
He shrugged, turning round to consult the panel.
"Just over an hour," he said with a sigh, slumping back into the chair.
Rose smiled slightly. This must be torture for him. Take someone who spent their whole lives darting from one adventure to the next, lock them in a room with nothing to do and see how long it was before they were climbing the walls.
She didn't mind so much though. It had been a long time since she'd felt comfortable enough to lounge all over someone the way she had him. Mickey had been her personal sofa before the Doctor came along, and there had been no one since. And Rose was a very tactile person. She enjoyed physical contact with other people. It was why she found herself holding hands with the Doctor so often.
"It's been nice though, hasn't it?" she asked quietly, after a slight pause, hoping he'd agree.
"What has?" he asked, arching his back to get his spine working again.
"The last couple of days."
He nodded, in mildly surprised agreement, "It's been a bit more relaxing than usual, yes."
"And we got to spend time together without having to run for our lives or save the universe every five minutes," Rose pointed out.
"Yep," he said evasively, "It's certainly been different."
Different? They'd been behaving like some sort She wondered if he'd noticed that too.
Rose giggled at a sudden memory that seemed to push her thoughtfulness aside in favour of teasing him some more.
"And I get to take away the vision of you flapping around like a headless chicken on ice," she added with a smirk.
He turned and glared at her.
"Something you are going to keep secret until the end of your days," he insisted, "Or you'll find that they'll come much sooner than you hoped."
She rolled her eyes, "You're so full of rubbish. You know I have you wrapped around my little finger, my hippo on ice."
"Stop it," he warned.
"Why? Whatcha gonna do?" she challenged, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"You forget, Rose," he said with a dangerous grin, "I saw you as a baby. Had to listen to your mum rattle on about all the cute little things you do for a good twenty minutes. Most of it I couldn't care less about, I have to say, but one part was very interesting."
Rose looked distinctly worried, "Oh yeah? What's that then?"
"You have ticklish feet."
Without warning he pounced on her and she squealed and shrieked as he mercilessly attacked the first foot he grabbed hold of.
"Now are you going to tell anyone I can't ice skate?" he asked, struggling to keep a grip on her writhing form.
"Yes!" she said between breathless, giggling yelps, unwilling to surrender.
"I'm not stopping until you say 'no'," he cautioned.
Rose it seemed had a well honed fight or flight technique though. As he attacked one foot, her other one shot out, catching him hard on the shoulder. He immediately grimaced, dropping her foot and clutching at the point where she had whacked him.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, instantly sitting up, her eyes full of remorse.
"You're vicious, you are," the Doctor complained mildly, rubbing at his shoulder.
Rose batted his hand away and, without thinking, yanked his jumper down at one side to get a good look at his shoulder. There was already a red foot shaped marked forming there, no doubt to be replaced by a bruise at a later point. She rubbed her fingers over it soothingly.
"Sorry," she repeated again.
"Rose," he said his voice unusually soft, "I'd rather you didn't."
She glanced up to catch a look in his eyes that seemed to make her entire body jolt and the whole atmosphere of the room changed in an instant. She couldn't help but be a little pleased that she could do that to him by simply touching his bare skin.
"Why not?" she whispered tentatively, fingers still playing across his shoulder although their purpose seemed entirely different now. How had they got to this? They'd just been messing around a minute ago.
He shook his head in an unconvincing manner, "It's not right. There were laws against this kind of thing."
"Were?" she questioned.
"Are," he insisted, "There are laws. There's just no one but me around to enforce them anymore."
"Then what's the problem?" she asked, "You must know how I feel about you – everyone else seems to. We can't go anywhere without someone thinking I'm your wife. Or prostitute."
She was trying to make him smile but his grave look only deepened.
"The laws are there to protect people like you, Rose."
She shook her head, "I don't need protecting. Especially not from you."
"They're to stop you being taken advantage of," he said, his voice pleading with her to back down. To forgot it.
Wasn't going to happen.
"So how about I take advantage of you then?" she reasoned, deciding to take a chance, trusting that her gut instinct about him was right.
She closed the gap between them and pressed her lips experimentally against his.
The small contact seemed to break whatever resolve he had maintained.
Within moments one hand was tangled in her hair and the other at her waist, drawing her hungrily closer to his body. His lips were passionate and insistent, as though something like this had been building in him for a long time. His tongue played relentlessly with hers, Rose's soft groan at the sensation only seeming to excite him more. For someone who didn't want to do this, he certainly was eager.
Her hands slid slowly up his jumper, running across the smooth, taught skin. Her fingers gently circled his nipples and he groaned deeply in appreciation.
Then suddenly he pulled away as if stung. He gave her a pained gaze before standing up and moving away from her.
"We need to stop this right now," he said grimly.
Rose's look was one of hurt confusion. What had she done?
"Why?" she asked in a perplexed tone. He had kissed her back. He'd been joining in. Why was he rejecting her?
"Because it's not right," he stated resolutely.
"Yeah, you told me," she said with a roll of her eyes, "Stupid laws. Who cares? I love you."
She knew she was taking a risk telling him that but why not? It was true and he'd have to be some kind of blind idiot not to have realised it before now.
"But it doesn't last, does it?" he muttered, bitterly.
"Eh?"
He sighed heavily, as if he was being forced into doing something he really didn't want to.
"There's no forever, is there?" he explained, "Even if we survive everything we come across, you'll still die. You'll get old and that stupid human body of yours will break down and I'll lose you. And I can't do that. It's too hard."
A small part of Rose thought that that was quite romantic in a way, but that was overwhelmed by the larger part of her that was suddenly furious that he could be so devastatingly stupid.
"I don't believe you!" she exclaimed, in angry frustration, "People do that everyday. They wake up next to the person they love knowing it could be the last time, but they don't regret the time they spend with them because it's going to end."
"They don't live as long as I have to," he pointed out, trying not to turn this into an argument, "What do you want me to do, Rose? I can't help who I am."
"Of course you can't," she agreed, almost pleading with him to be reasonable, "But I want you to do what is best for us now. Not seventy or eighty years in the future."
He shook his head firmly, "I can't. Won't."
For a moment Rose felt as if someone had stabbed her in the chest. It was just the worse pain ever – much worse than breaking her leg the day before. It wasn't that he didn't love her, that he was rejecting her because he didn't feel the same. No, this was much worse. He was rejecting her because he was too afraid to face up to what loving her meant.
With that realisation the pain in her chest mutated into something else entirely; a total loathing for the man who stood before her, pretending he was being all noble when all he was doing was running away.
"You idiot," she spat out, disgusted with him, "You think you're so superior, but you're not. We're better than you cos we accept what's given to us and we live with it. We'd do anything to be with the person we love. You can't even admit it, can you? That you love me?"
He was silent.
"You know what you are?" she said contemptuously, "You're a coward."
Rose stormed over to the still locked door, trying the handle a couple of futile times, before kicking the door hard.
"Let me out you stupid machine!" she hollered, pounding on it.
Instantly the door swung open. It seemed the TARDIS had decided that getting in the way of an angry Rose was not a good idea.
He winced as he heard a door slam in the distance., then sighed and slumped back to the sofa, cursing that for a want of self control he had ruined everything.