Five Conversations the Doctor and Rose Had (And One They Didn't)

Author: TravelerOfTheWays

Rating: T/PG-13

Spoilers: Journey's End

Summary: Cohabitating a cozy house in Chelsea isn't quite the same as cohabitating a TARDIS. As they adjust to an old/new Doctor, linear time and wallpaper, there are a few things Rose and the Doctor need to discuss.

Conversation #2

Rose wanted to scream. It felt marvelous and agonizing at the same time, but the more he did it, the more agonizing gained over marvelous until she was near tears. And he wasn't anywhere near stopping, she knew. The Doctor thought he was just so clever, and besides being a perfectionist, he was really a devoted lover. Most of the time, Rose hugely admired these traits, but if he kept on doing this, she would end up ripping his hair out.

"Doctor!" she gasped. He glanced up, hair damp with sweat and other fluids, face glowing with pure joy. She hated herself for what was about to say. It would wipe that silly, sexy grin right off his face, but she had to save herself. "Um… could you not do that?"

He just stared at her. No one in that particular position had ever looked at her with quite that expression before, happiness slowly fading into bewilderment. She winced.

"What do you mean, not do that? Rose, do you have any idea how many nerves are bundled right inside that little thing?" To emphasize his point, he ducked down to bump that point ever so gently with his nose.

She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth and jerked back reflexively. His head jerked up, shock and growing hurt writ clear across that face she loved so well. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked, not quite sure why she should be apologizing for her involuntary reactions to certain stimuli. "It's just… yeah, I know how many nerves are there. A lot. And every one of them is screaming right now."

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. He rolled over her outstretched leg to grab his glasses off the nightstand, then he rolled back and peered at her pelvis. Normally, Rose found those blocky glasses of his infinitely endearing and strangely sexy, but in that position, he looked more like a gynecologist than anything. Speculuums were the last thing she wanted to think about right now.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice still a little too high.

"Well, there's only one explanation for you to be in pain after that," he explained, using the slightly patronizing voice he used when he was explaining Nextian geometry or why ducks' quacks don't seem to echo. She shifted around, uncomfortable under this close scrutiny, and began to get annoyed with him. Thought he gave such great head, did he? "Clearly, something's wrong down here. Don't worry, though, I'll just poke around a bit, and see what there is to see."

"Doctor!" she shouted as she scooted into a half-sitting position. "You are not poking around, and there's nothing wrong with me!"

He studied her through his glasses. "You sure?" As he spoke, he leaned down a little to take one last glance, and just as he was reaching out a finger to poke around as threatened, she kicked him none-too-lightly with her knee.

"Course I'm sure!"

"Guess you'd know," he said with a sort of shrug. "But that's the only possible reason that you are not in the throes of ecstasy at this very moment. I can literally think of no other possible explanation in the universe why you are not currently experiencing the best orgasm of your life."

She gaped at him. Bit full of himself, wasn't he? "Now listen, you, just because Martha liked that-"

"Oy!" he shouted.

"- doesn't mean other women do!" She ignored his outburst. She knew very well he'd never done this with Martha, but she had a point to make, and make it she would. "Okay, I mean, maybe lots of other women do, but I don't!"

He glanced down again, then looked back up at her and bit his bottom lip. God, she melted when he did that. It was a new thing for this Doctor, biting his lip, and she silently rejoiced that he had not yet realized how sexy that little gesture was. Soon as he did, he'd be biting his lip left and right, waggling those eyebrows at her. Now that he was in a quasi-human body, free of the last lingering strictures of Time Lord society, he had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the dazzling world of sex with Rose Tyler. Sometimes there really was throwing involved.

"You don't?" he asked quietly. "But I worked it out. The amount of pressure and lubrication and the precise movements needed to excite those nerves to the perfect level of stimulation."

She pulled herself upright and leaned forward to pluck the glasses from his face. "No, I don't. The numbers lied. It hurts. If you do it again, I'll probably end up kicking you in the face or something." She shook her head. "I don't want to do that. You have quite a nice face." She cupped her hand around his jaw and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Do I?" She didn't think she'd ever seen an adult male with eyes that went as wide and pleading as his. They made her feel like she was his whole world, everything he could see and everything he ever wanted to.

"Yeah," she whispered. She shifted and straightened her legs so she was lying on her front, propped up on her elbows. "The only face for me." Smiling, she drew him close and kissed him deeply. A damp, salty taste and aroma hung heavily around him, testament to his ardent efforts to please her.

After a long moment and quiet moans which gained in intensity as the kiss heated, the Doctor suddenly pulled away and bounded to his feet. Rose blinked several times and tried to regain her equilibrium. She was still a bit disoriented when he returned from the closet with a package a bit smaller than a shoebox. In it lay a device about the size of Rose's thumb, shaped like egg, and beside the egg, what appeared to be a small remote control.

She gasped. "Doctor!" He gave her wickedest grin.

... ... ...

Over the next week, Torchwood employees kept their eyes out for that mysterious, seemingly invisible creature which persistently bit Rose Tyler but ignored everyone else. Whatever it was, its bite made her gasp and flush, and then she would disappear to the loo for several minutes at time to thoroughly clean the site of the wound. They wanted to test her for toxins, in case it was alien, but she adamantly refused, so they just got used to her breathy little sounds and shook their heads pityingly.

It didn't last too long, though. Whatever its origins, the little bug disappeared after two weeks or so. For days afterward, Rose could be heard muttering about batteries and shooting dark glances at the Doctor. People shrugged and continued about their business. Rose Tyler had always been a good operative, one of their best, but she'd gone a bit weird, ever since that not-quite-human man in the blue suit showed up.