Disclaimer: I OWN THEM ALL! I OWN DW!! BBC JUST BORROWED THEM! Okay, so it's the other way 'round. Fat chance of me giving them back though. Audience can hear in background: "Awww…Do I HAVE to??" –pleading voice
.Sky…
The Doctor entered the kitchen stealthily and looked over to where Rose stood, currently cleaning the counter to where she had spilled tea at some point. Suddenly, seeing her there, he couldn't help it and wouldn't stop himself if he could. He snuck carefully up behind her, noiseless as a cat, and was about to romantically wrap his arms around her, (and no doubt whisper sonnets which he had helped write in her ear) when she spun around on him, catching him red-handed and charged as guilty. They were not yet touching, but he could feel her breath on his face even so. Soft, gentle, beckoning…
The fact that they were so close had him tongue-tied, as much as it pleased him. If she smiled…
"Your breathing gave you away," she told him, unsmilingly and undaunted, although he could feel her tremors, for they matched his own. He suddenly realized just how laboured his breathing was. Thoughts of her had been swirling around in his head like a whirlwind; he was just short of obsession. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.
As much as he would regret saying his next words, (and boy would he regret them. Too many semi-romantic films had these words in them to begin with, that he should ask this inevitable and corny question as well seemed to make it all the more worse) he knew he had to say them. Had to.
The Doctor sighed, watching Rose return to working on fixing the kitchen counter, though there was nothing to fix. He plunged in.
"Rose," he started, "Did I do something?" Relieved to get this (corny) line out of his system (s), without a second thought he reached up with his left hand to stroke her soft, baby-smooth cheek.
Immediately he thought better of the idea, and almost withdrew his hand, but after a moment's hesitation Rose leaned into the hand, caressing it with her gentle breath. He couldn't help but notice that his hand fit her cheek like a glove; it not only looked right there, but also felt right, and he was unashamedly and absurdly pleased at the fact.
He cocked his head sideways and smiled his silly, teasing, heart-quivering smile, the one he reserved just for her. His angel.
Instead of returning it, as she sometimes did, with a heart-quivering one of her own, she turned her head ever so slightly and he held his breath when her lips just brushed his hand gently in passing. She definitely knew how to torture him.
He blinked, pleased at the way warmth flooded him like a gentle wave at her touch. If only she knew what she did to him…
The Doctor bit back a slight groan that had almost escaped as her lips left his hand, just as gently. He started to struggle with the thought, Snog. Snog. Snog. (A/N: You get the picture) and as a result grew flushed in the face. If only I could find a way to tell her I love her!
Crap, don't take this the wrong way! He pleaded to her silently when he saw her blink, and viciously hoped with every fibre in his being that she wouldn't. But it was too late. Before he could capture her lips with his once more, she had backed away fully from him, visible hurt once more in her eyes.
Bilge, he muttered to himself, but stopped soon afterward. Where did the word BILGE come from?
Sighing, he watched her whilst she swiped at the kitchen counter in front of her in such rapt attention that he would think it was the most thrilling and exhilarating thing in the galaxy.
"Rose, did I do something?" he repeated his earlier question, forgetting her answer if ever she had responded.
"No, of course not," she replied quickly in a shrill tone, probably a good indication that the exact opposite was true.
Agro, why can't apes just say what they mean straight out instead of beating 'round a bush? I obviously did something, and the fact is tearing out my hearts and ripping them to shreds, he murmured painfully to himself, straightening against the counter beside Rose.
"Rosie," he murmured at her softly.
"Yes," she replied absently, toying with her cup. She slid the other one across the counter at him. He watched as she raised her own to her lips, gently blowing across the steaming liquid. He found himself watching her mouth in rapt fascination. Soft, gentle, beckoning… he let himself dream.
Come on, Doctor. Keep on track, he chided himself sternly. You shouldn't be staring at her like that anyway. No, bad Doctor. Come on, you smart guy. What did she just say?
She had replied 'yes'.
The Doctor blinked, coming out from his conversation…with himself, and realised that Rose had responded to 'Rosie'. Something had to be terribly wrong, he concluded, or she was doped up on painkillers and bananas. Since, the Doctor blushed even as he thought, she had been perfectly fine and…responsive when he had snogged her earlier, he would go for 'something must be terribly wrong'. And, he thought painfully, he was the cause.
She needed her mother, as much as he hated to admit it. Maybe he could find Jack somehow and become a disguised stow-away before Jackie found out either that he had willingly snogged her daughter or unwillingly caused her pain. Then he would be in the proverbial doghouse. He sighed. Facing Jackie was worth his Rose back. He cleared his throat, a noise that obviously startled her.
"Right, let's go see your mother," he said firmly, deciding quickly.
"Excuse me?" The ceramic (or something) cup crashed to the floor, shattering and spilling liquid left, right and centre in its wake. Unfortunately, in doing so, the tea was somehow attracted specifically to the Doctor's favourite suit jacket and charged, leaving a very wet, very upset, scowling Time Lord in its aftermath.
Though wet, upset and disgruntled as he was, the Doctor thought that Rose would immediately clean the mess up, being domesticated, and was slightly surprised when she just stood there, staring at him, gob-smacked.
"Why'd you do that, Rose?" he asked patiently, (or as patiently as he could, wet Time Lord notwithstanding) and was not at all startled by her reaction. Furthermore, he knew she had heard the question, so he didn't bother to repeat it.
"Since when did you want to go see my mother?" she asked, answering his question with one of her own.
He looked at her blankly for a moment in time, with a sudden desire to make her smile and laugh again. Instead of following through, he forced himself to answer her question.
"I didn't say I want to see your mother, Rose," he replied defensively. "I said, and I quote, 'Let's go see your mother'. There's a big difference. Just because we're going, it doesn't mean I want to go." Before she could respond to this comment, he quickly quirked both his eyebrows at her and wiggled them.
Rose shut her mouth with a snap and glared at him with a look that clearly meant "Nothing-can-make-me-smile-0r-laugh-today-so-beat-it".
The Doctor simply laughed at her expression, which justly earned him another poison dart look and sent her his evil/seductive look that would have sent any other female in the galaxy rolling on the floor laughing and spilling her guts out, but not Rose. She squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, but did not smile, laugh or even advert her gaze.
He blinked at this and quickly spun around so that his back was to her. The next minute he spun back. With his glasses on. Then he did his eyebrow (s) wiggle, and quirked his 'seductive' smile at the same time. This should do the trick.
Rose blinked in startlement, (A/N: If it isn't a word I just made it one, so stuff it.) right before she smiled slightly. She had thought nothing, nothing short of the Doctor throwing himself prostrate at her feet and proposing would make her smile.
She had been so horribly mistaken.
Rose gave a short laugh as her smile fully bloomed, showing her very white teeth. Well, it was either that or jump the guy. He looked so adorably cute and snoggable that it wasn't even funny. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. Besides, no one should be able to look that cute in a soaking wet suit anyway. Okay, tea-stained suit.
She watched as he leaned against the counter, lowering his face slightly to look her in the eye, and in doing so completely distracted her. The slow, drop-dead gorgeous smile he shot her not only had her heart pacing, but also had her completely melting and evaporating.
Rose sighed softly and finally leaned down to pick up the cup and mop up the mess, the presence bugging her.
The Doctor smiled, leaning against the counter again, and watched her pick up the pieces of the once-was cup. She straightened to look at him from where she was crouched on the floor. "Don't stand there watching while I clean up. Care to help?" she asked him; trying to remain bright and hoping he would agree. He was too silent and it was disconcerting.
"Sure thing," he stated, as if jolted out of a reverie. "'Course." He leaned over, laid a hand on her back and lowered himself, not removing his hand once arriving at his destination. Wordlessly, he began picking up pieces one-handed.
Rose froze when his hand touched her back and felt her heart skip a few beats.
The Doctor on the other hand, continued to pick up pieces of the cup, staring at and analysing each in turn, not noticing her almost robotic-like movements or her nervousness at his touch. Rose noticed and commented before she could help herself, "Don't lick them. Those pieces could be sharp."
The Doctor started and stared at her. Rose turned away, blushing with humiliation, and did not meet his gaze. She never saw the smile that touched his eyes at her remark.
"Thanks, Doctor," she smiled at him, relieved when the job was done, longing to escape from the torture she was being subjected to. He looked so…delicious and she could do nothing-except going to take a cold shower.
"No problem-o," he replied simply, suddenly cringing at his use of language. "Remind me never to say that word again, Rose," he told her, wrinkling his nose. She had to hold back a smirk and snicker as he offered his hand immediately to help her up. She took it gratefully and he pulled her up gently, both aware that he watched how much force he used. "Let's go see your mother," he told her again, picking up where they had left off.
Rose sighed. Wish he wouldn't be so difficult. "First tell me why."
"Oh, come on, Rose. I thought it would be a nice change for you. I'm doing it for you. I know you've been missing your mother, and Mickey," he explained, pausing, and Rose almost added the idiot, you mean, but she kept it to herself, amused that he hadn't called Mickey an idiot-actually, he hadn't called Mickey 'Rickey', like usual. "Can't you just accept it this once? Does there have to be a reason for me? Did you really think I was that selfish?"
Rose looked at him, saying nothing.
"Oh, great! My own companion believes I'm doing this for purely selfish reasons. Well, I hate to tell you different, but its true. Purely unselfish reasons, milady." He swept his hand in front of him and did a ridiculous prince-like bow, but it was still delightful to Rose.
"Okay," she replied, giggling and grabbed his hand, bringing it down. The grin he tossed her was her favourite; the one he reserved just for her. It was the one that most reminded her of the old him, and it pleased her. She grinned back cheerfully. "And guess what?"
"What?"
"We'll be in time for a party."
"I'll set the coordinates for Loon-DOOONNNN," he howled like a train, starting low at the beginning and going higher and higher as the word progressed. This sent Rose into stitches and she shoved him out of her way.
"Go, silly. I need to go change," she managed, still getting over her bout of laughter. Spending time with the Doctor made her feel so good.
"Then you go too, Rosita," he teased, slapping her arm lightly as he went by.
Rose's eyes widened and she turned to see him pause in the doorway. "You're going to get it, mister," she warned.
"Sounds like a threat," answered he cheekily, right before he disappeared down the corridor.
Rose sighed silently and also trailed down the corridors (at a much slower pace) to her room.
TARDIS, what do I do? The TARDIS answered with a gentle purr. Rose suddenly felt weary, and the ship helped her by making the usual, twisty route to her bedroom easier by making the distance much smaller. The door opened on its own accord and she entered slowly, looking around her. She loved her room. Walking to her wardrobe, she took out some clothes without really noticing which ones (only that they were gorgeous enough to spin the Doctor's head so hard he would be mentally ill) and hastily threw them on (after checking with the TARDIS, of course), making sure she was secured tightly to the wall when the ship landed with a bump. Rose winced at the tight landing, and suddenly she heard a knocking on her door.
She waltzed over to the door, feeling better and refreshed, and imagined the Doctor's smile when he saw her.
"Rose—" he cut himself off when he saw what she was wearing. Beautiful didn't describe it. He motioned his finger around in a circle and she slowly turned obligingly, grinning softly at him with a shining light in her beautiful, glowing eyes.
He loosened his tie, feeling it suddenly get very hot in the hallway. She wasn't wearing anything spectacular, but it was enough. Her golden curls were pulled back into a half ponytail and braided, leaving a few wisps 'round her face. She was dressed in white, making the glow in her face stand out. She was wearing a soft white tank top and a white, thin, hooded sweater over top. The pants she was wearing were white too, brilliant white.
"You…said there was a party, Rose?" he asked, his voice unknowingly husky, gazing at her with open admiration in his eyes.
In return she grinned and his breath caught. "Tonight," she replied, slowly inching closer to him.
He cleared his throat and didn't back away, but didn't move closer either. "You're wearing that to the party?"
She grinned softly again, and he wanted to bottle up the warmth it gave him. She shook her head slowly, deliberately. "No."
"What…are you wearing then?" the Doctor asked, merely out of curiosity, or so he told himself.
"Surprise."
He stifled a groan, but looks told enough, and the next minute she was in his arms, his face nestled in her hair, her hands wrapped around his neck. He heard her slight intake of breath, soft against his ear, lightly tickling his skin as he burrowed his nose down against her neck. She was trembling, and so was he.
Then the Doctor did what he would never have had the courage to do in his ninth self, but had always wanted to do since the first day he met her. He started kissing her neck.
Now Rose, by this time, was not only struggling to breathe at his mere touch, but was threatening to fold when she felt his warm, moist lips on her flesh.
"Umm, Doc-Doctor?" she managed to squeak out as he nibbled at her ear.
"Hmm?" he murmured, moving up from her neck to her chin.
"What…exactly are you doing?" she asked, struggling to remain under control but was hopelessly getting distracted by the fact that with every second his mouth was moving closer to hers at an incredible rate of speed. This was just plain torture.
"What…does it look…like…I'm doing?" he managed, in between the slow contact.
"Umm…" her heart began to pound viciously. The Doctor made no reply, and did not back away or stop, either. Rose had no wish to remain in the hallway, knowing that immediately when they had landed, her mum would have…Uh-oh. She looked and immediately saw that they were in plain view of the door. Rose prayed desperately that Jackie had not reached them yet. "Maybe…we should—"
Rose was cut off by the sound of the door to the TARDIS being flung open and slammed shut.
"Rose—"
Crap.
-Giggles- how did you like that? I'm sorry I had to put that scene in so soon… who votes for the Doctor getting into hot water again with Rose? Don't you love suspenseful endings? –Grins cheekily- please R & R, and I'm sorry again for how long it took!