Disclaimer: Me and Christopher, we've got a deal worked out. Trust me.

A/N: Just a little angsty oneshot. Everyone always wants the Doctor and Rose to have a great sex life...but why? Why should he change himself for her?

Spoilers: It's 9doc, but no spoilers to speak of. A quote from one episode, sort of, but if you blink you'll miss it.

Summary: He wasn't kidding when he said he didn't do domestic.

Rose curled into the Doctor's side, loving the absent brush of his long fingertips over her bare shoulder. She knew he thought she was asleep, just like he thought every night and she didn't want to change his thought on the matter.

If she acknowledged him, if she leaned into his touch or breathed a bit deeper to catch more of his scent, he would know she was awake and she'd lose this intimacy.

Intimacy was domestic.

The Doctor was not.

Maybe she'd thought she could change him. Convince him that her way, her human way was better than the distance he purposefully put between himself, his emotions and hers.

His heart beat changed, just the slightest bit and she fought back the sigh that worked its way up. Feigning casualness, she let out a tiny bit of the huge sigh stuck in her throat and curled into him a bit tighter, knowing he was leaving soon.

He turned toward her slightly and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before kissing down her neck. He held her close for another minute, two before he rolled away from her.

Rose kept her breathing steady as she heard the bed creak, felt the mattress give and shift as he climbed from underneath the covers, the cold rush of air nearly forcing a shiver from her.

He always thought she was asleep.

She kept her eyes closed as she feigned sleep, listening to his shuffling movements: the zip of his trousers, the rustling of leather as he slid into his jacket once more, the creaking, settling sounds of the desk chair as he sat on it to tug on his boots.

She felt more than heard him as he walked around the edge of the bed and she did her best to maintain her posture.

Her arm nearly twitched with the need to reach up and grab his wrist as he gently laid his palm over her hair. She felt her arm moving of its own accord, heard the surprised gasp as she grabbed his hand, saw the glint in his eyes as she questioned him.

But she didn't. Never would.

She's learned to take what she can get from the Doctor.

He wasn't kidding when he said he didn't do domestic.

She waited a moment after she heard the clicking of the door as he shut it behind him. She let her eyes flicker open, seeing nothing in the pitch black room. She rolled onto her back, sighing, staring where she knew the ceiling would be.

He'd told her, a long, long time ago be careful what you wish for.

It's been months since she learned that sex didn't have to be domestic.


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