Yes Cosmo did die. Let's all have a moment of silence for the dearly departed. But honestly, the Tardis is no place for a dog and the Doctor should have realised that!
Chapter 3. Sides of the Bed.They had held a funeral for Cosmo a few days later.
The Doctor had built a coffin for the poor little thing, Rose had lovingly placed him inside, and they had gone to a far away planet at the furthest reaches of the cosmos for the burial.
Cosmo would have liked that.
The Doctor had said a few words, only ever to be heard by Rose and the three suns that shone down onto the uninhabited plains.
Rose had been upset.
The Doctor had told her of the place where all the dead little puppies go. Where they can frolic all day in the sun, chasing cats and smelling others dogs butts.
Rose thanked him for the beautiful lie.
The Doctor looked shocked and nearly cried as his long-standing beliefs of doggy heaven were destroyed!
Back in the Tardis, floating in the void, they were both quiet and subdued.
Rose because she was still upset about the puppy, the Doctor because his attempts at normality kept going wrong.
Breakfast had been wrecked when the old man caught them groping, the puppy had actually died when they had let their attention shift to kissing and…there was the problem he thought to himself.
Each time something wrong had happened, they had been intending to make with the more primal urges.
Normal couples weren't all over each other all the time. Yeah they were, but not to this extent.
Maybe the universe was trying to tell him that he was becoming too much of a randy old man and had to calm down a bit. It was possible.
Sex always complicated things.
Time was that he'd be able to disprove widely known theories of quantum probability, save a galaxy or two, help a famous historical composer create a masterpiece and do his laundry all before noon. But now he was thinking with desire and needs of the flesh instead of rationality and righteousness.
He was losing his touch. They hadn't even saved the world in ages. Granted, it hadn't needed saving for a wile and he was trying to calm down a bit, but still. He'd like to know he still could if he wanted to.
To retrieve his 'touch', he would have to become more normal than even he originally intended.
It was the only way, in a strange sort of logic, to regain his focus.
To go back to being the genius of a man that he should be, he'd have to negate that 'stage' that humans frequently referred to. They'd have to go past the can't keep hands off each other phase and head straight to the life of domestic habitual ritual.
The Doctor had gone to bed earlier than Rose on that Tuesday night.
That in itself was a very strange occurrence. He always complained about how much time the human race dwindled away sleeping. Their lives were too short anyway, especially considering they spent half of it in a state of slumber.
She walked into their room to discover the Doctor sat up in bed reading a book.
He never read in bed. Reading was done in the library, where the books lived. Bed was a place for interlocking fun, and a place where he would watch Rose sleep. But now he was sat on one side, perched up by the pillows reading by lamplight. They didn't have lamps in their room. Especially two lamps, one on each bedside cabinet. When did they get cabinets? Since when did he lie on one side? They never had sides before. They just kind of cuddled in a strange sort of heap thing. And when did he start wearing pyjamas?
But there he was, wearing the pyjamas he'd pinched off of Howard, sat up in one side of the bed, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read The Divine Comedy by lamplight.
He made no indication whatsoever that he had noticed Rose enter the room, so she moved passed to the bathroom to take care of her needs and get ready for bed. As she walked past, she shot him a suspicious glance form the corner of her eye, but he was too involved in the book to even notice.
As soon as she got into the en-suite, the first thing that she noticed was a new silk chemise hanging on a coat hanger from the towel rack. It was a beautiful garment, but modest. Not exactly the type of thing she would have expected the Doctor to choose for her.
But she put it on anyway; deciding to play along with whatever craziness the Doctor was going through.
She finished up in the en-suite and slipped back into the bedroom. He was still sat as he was before, just reading with those sexy glasses on and that adorable frown creasing his eyebrows. He was the picture of goodness, except for the pyjamas. They weren't very attractive but she was hoping to have him out of them soon enough.
She remained there stood by the door to the bathroom, waiting for him to notice her.
He looked over at her after a few moments. Arching an eyebrow in question.
"You coming to bed dear?"
She scoffed at that.
"Dear?" she asked incredulously, "since when did you ever call me dear?"
He looked over at her in confusion.
"What's wrong with dear. Love? Munchkin? Sweetheart?"
"When did you become such an old man?"
"I've always been an old man. Well, at least I have for as long as you've known me, and a good number of centuries before that too."
He patted the bed next to him and Rose moved forward to get in. She sat in a mirror position to his, leaning on the pillows against the headboard. She looked over at him, wondering how long he would ignore her as he returned to his book.
It wasn't long until he felt the weight of her gaze on him again, and just as before, he turned to look at her with that eyebrow delectably raised.
"Something the matter Rose?"
"Nothing really…just wondering what's got into you." As the eyebrow arched further, she went on to explain. "The pyjamas, the lamps, the book…need I continue?" He still looked confused. "All of this…it's like you're trying to turn us into an old married couple."
"And what if I am? That a problem? Do you find the idea of being married to me unpleasant?"
"No not at all Doctor."
"Good."
They sat there in silence for a few moments, the Doctor reading, Rose wondering what he had meant.
"Good what?"
"Huh?"
"You said good. Good as in what? Good that I don't mind the prospect of being married to you? Do you want me to want to be married to you?"
"Well…yeah. Do you want to be married to me?"
"Well…yeah…would be nice."
"Good."
The Doctor went right back to the book yet again. Rose however, was more confused than ever.
"Doctor…what just happened? Did we just get engaged?"
"Yeah we did." He had a happy little smile on his face as he put a page marker in the book and put it on the bedside cabinet. "We'll celebrate on Sunday morning."
"What about Sunday morning?"
"It's the only time that old married couples are allowed to have sex."
"Oh."
He gave Rose a sweet peck on the cheek, turned of the lamp beside him and laid down on the bed. Before long, she could hear the even breathing of sleep coming from him, and the occasional snore. She was left, wide awake, next to her sleeping lover, who shouldn't even be sleeping at all, trying to force her brain to process what was actually going on.
He woke up early the next morning. Much earlier than Rose. And of course, as was custom, he was feeling quite horny.
He turned over on the bed to see his girl, sleeping peacefully, golden hair spread out around her like a halo. She had kicked most of the covers off during the night and her chemise had ridden up to the tops of her thighs. She moved languidly in her sleep to her dreams, mouth opening ever so slightly.
She looked positively wanton.
He grinned down happily at her before lightly moving his hand to rest on her stomach.
"Rose?" he purred as he began to scratch her tummy lightly through the material of her sleeping garment, "Rose?"
She grumbled slightly as her mind was pulled from consciousness by the persistence of her other half.
"Rosie, Rosie, Rosie" he called in a singsong voice.
"Mmm…whadya want."
"Rose…I'm horny…pleasure me."
"Go away…it's not Sunday morning…it's Wednesday."
Suddenly feeling quite grumpy at having his own reasoning used against him, he hauled himself out of bed and headed straight for the console room still in his pyjamas.
He got to the console room and threw himself down on the sofa in a huff.
But, as happens to many geniuses, inspiration suddenly hit and he had the best idea ever.
Jumping up, he bounded round the console at manic speed, twisting knobs, pressing buttons and pulling levers. An insane smile plastered his face, matching the excited glint in his eye.
His grin widened even more as he felt his ship materialise. He shed his pyjama top and chucked I onto the sofa. It wasn't exactly the best thing for seduction, and besides, the jumping around and exhilaration had caused him to overheat. He glanced at the information screen at the console, checking to see that he had landed in the right place and time before making his way back to his room and back to his Rose.
He slipped in quietly to find a half awake Rose just where he left her. He sunk down onto the bed and she opened her eyes blearily to look at him.
"We landed? Where are we?"
"Oh we're back on Earth. It's just a few days after we last left. It's Sunday morning."
She opened her eyes fully at this piece of information. He grinned as her eyes widened in understanding and she let out a very pleased and amused giggle.
"You arse!"
"So…Rose Tyler…my future wife. It's Sunday morning, I'm feeling particularly randy…pleasure me?"
He finished it off with hopeful eyes so wide and adorable that she couldn't refuse.
The next day was a sunday floating around a beautiful nebula. The day after that, an abandoned space station parked near the Whanite Cluster, then a Sunday back in Rose in the fourth century. Before they knew it, they had lived an entire month of Sundays throughout time and space, without ever having moved out of their bed for any of it.
A.N. Thanks for reading people. I'm hoping people enjoyed it, but I wont know unless you review! ;-)
Oh…and I'm wondering if anyone would like to set me challenges or something. I would like to know if anyone has a 'normal' thing they can think of for the Doctor to try out.