Disclaimer: Not mine, but borrowed for the duration. Stirred but not shaken. Much.
Title: A Doctored Rose.
A/N: I know it's not CSI, but the (ninth) Doctor is too delish to leave unmolested. I used to think 'Chris who?' now I think 'Chris woohoo!' I am so sorry he was only there for a season 'cos the Doc rocked.
This fic veers off from 'The parting of the ways' in that the Doctor saving Rose was not fatal and he did not need to regenerate.
A Doctored Rose
Rose stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look any different really. A good colour, a gentle bloom to her cheeks. She peered closer. Nothing obvious about anything else. Not really. Okay, her hair was a mess, but, hello, earned it.
Her reflection smiled sweetly, showing a glimpse of white teeth. There was a trace of amused self-satisfaction in her eyes, as if she and her reflection were best friends sharing a secret.
Which, of course, they were.
Who would have thunk it?
Rose felt giddy and feminine and powerful. It was a heady feeling and she loved it. Just as she loved him. Yesterday she was convinced that it couldn't happen, today it had. All those brushes with death had finally caught up with them. With her, at any rate. God knows how he coped with it and remained sane.
Rose turned from the mirror and switched off the light. She quietly opened the bathroom door and made her way over to the bed. Her big comfy wrought iron bed with a large quilt and lots of pillows.
Plus one sleeping Time Lord.
Rose gently lifted the nearest edge of the quilt and slid under, trying not to disturb the bed's sleeping occupant. Years ago, when she was young (as if nineteen were ancient) she had read the word frisson in some romance novel, and looked it up. She felt the sensation that she always associated with that word now. The delicious shiver of awareness that hummed over her skin and throughout her body whenever she was near this man.
Rose lay on her right side, an arm bent under her head, propping it up so that she could look at him in the dim light available.
The Doctor slept on unaware, the lines of exhaustion easing from his face.
Not bad for a nine hundred year old. Not bad at all.
She was too wired to relax and sleep just yet, but she would soon enough. Right now she just wanted to bask in her post-coital afterglow.
Bloody hell, she felt good.
Yesterday seemed an age ago, but it would be a long time before she would forget the day. She was still fuzzy about the details at the end – something screwy about the vortex, the TARDIS' Heart and herself, but she would get the scoop from the Doctor later.
'Tonight' had started with what followed after the weird stuff with the Heart. Her face had been wet with tears, but she had no memory of shedding them. Her first memory had been of the Doctor's face backing away from hers…
12 hours earlier:
Rose was confused. She frowned briefly. What had happened? What was happening? Had the Doctor really been moving away after a kiss?
Had he finally given in andkissed her, at long last?
She stared at the Doctor, her fingers touching her lips as if to check for an imprint of his.
The Doctor had his back to Rose; from her point of view he appeared to be exhaling towards the TARDIS' console. What was all that about?
"Did you kiss me?"
Bugger. Had she said that out loud?
Rose saw his back stiffen. He turned back to face her.
The Doctor gave his usual full-on grin, but Rose could see the sadness behind his blue eyes.
"What? Me? Would I ever?"
Rose looked at him, suddenly not sure of herself or the situation.
"No…no, I guess not."
He smiled again, this time with brotherly affection.
"C'mon, sleepyhead. It's exhausting saving the world again, let's get you to bed."
Still dazed, Rose allowed the Doctor to guide her to her room. He seated her on the edge of the bed, then searched under the pillows for her nightwear. Once found, he placed the soft jersey pj's in her lap, then sat down beside her.
The Doctor looked sideways at Rose's profile, noticing that she was just staring at the clothing in her lap, seemingly unaware of their purpose.
"Get changed Rose, and get into bed. We'll talk in the morning."
Rose turned her head to look up at him. Her expression was more sure now, her sense of self returning as her shock faded.
"You DID kiss me."
For a moment the Doctor looked as if he would try to bluff out a denial, but then his shoulders dropped in either acceptance or defeat. The corner of his mouth tipped up and he shrugged.
"Yeah, well. It was emergency. Life and Death thing. Y'know, 'the usual'."
His sheepishness was very endearing in Rose's eyes. She tried to read what he was feeling, but - as in the past - he was difficult to interpret.
"Thanks, y'know, for the whole life saving thing, but I missed out on the kiss."
"I did it to save your life, it wasn't as if – what?"
The Doctor looked at Rose in surprise. She thought she had missed out?
He knew that he was stupidly repeating himself, but he had no other response available.
Rose smiled gently and leaned back on her arms, her pj's forgotten.
"I said 'I missed out on the kiss'. I'd like you to kiss me again, so that this time I don't miss it."
The Doctor's lips were forming the word 'what' again, but he managed to stop it from materialising.
Although he still looked as if he had said it.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered who was the elder of the two of them. Rose's matter of fact manner was unnerving. She was calmly waiting for him to take it all in.
Waiting for him.
"Kiss me again. Now, please."
Rose didn't move, leaving it all up to him. She had made her position clear. The Doctor marvelled at her cheek. The sheer balls of her!
He grinned. In nine hundred years he had never met the like of her. Rose was his match in so many ways. His grin widened.
"I'm sure it was, but I'd like to find out for myself."
The Doctor shook his head, still grinning, probably like an idiot. He felt so alive!
Rose shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She looked over the Doctor, her perusal now more blatant than it had been in the past. She had never felt that boys of her own age could meet all of her needs. Some of them she could talk to, some were good for sex, but there was no one who was the right mix of body sex and mind sex. The Doctor was not your basic hunk. He looked like a nutter in his forties at first glance. No wonder her mum had slapped him one. God, that had been a scream.
He had sticking out ears, grinned like a maniac, had hard-nut hair, and was as skinny as a pole. Mickey was prettier. Slightly. But Mickey had 'boy' written all over him. Sex with him was okay, he pushed the right buttons, but it wasn't the stuff they wrote songs about. It was fun sex, while you were waiting for the right man to come along and really show you what it was all about.
There was something about the Doctor, especially now that she knew him better, that just did 'it' for her on all levels.
The Doctor watched Rose watching him. He could tell what she was thinking, even that she was comparing him to Mickey/Ricky. It was perfectly natural. It wasn't quite the same for him, of course. He had had several companions over the years, the humans from Earth had such a short life span after all, but he had never crossed the line with any of them, male or female.
He nearly had with Jo, but she found a love of her own, so he had let her go without telling her how he felt.
But Rose was different. The Doctor didn't think that he could let her go.
It had been devastating for him to trick her into leaving him behind with the Daleks. When she had returned against all odds, he had been sorry that she had returned to die with him, but oddly relieved that he wasn't going to die alone without her at his side. It was sobering to think that he had nearly lost her anyway…
The Doctor scanned her face closely. If he was going to go down this route, he needed to know that this wasn't just a bit of a laugh for her. He didn't think that it was, but he needed some sign that 'this' wasn't some quick 'roll in the hay' born out of curiosity.
"Maybe I'm shy. Uncertain. Insecure. Maybe I haven't done this in a long time."
Rose laughed, but not cruelly. Her clear eyes were begging him to trust her just as she had trusted him in Downing Street.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
"I shall hold you to that."
"I'd be grateful if you held me at all."
Rose held her hand out to the Doctor. He looked at it, then at her, as if he couldn't quite believe his luck. He took her hand in his, his large hand closing over hers with greedy possession.
Rose looked amused. The Doctor raised his eyebrows in enquiry. Rose's smile widened.
"Sorry, just waiting for the word 'RUN!' "
The Doctor gave a bark of laughter. He recognised his opening sentence, short as it was.
"Too late now, girl."
Rose's smile was mature beyond her years, but sweet nonetheless.
"It was already too late then."