netgirly2k wrote this amazing story called "And You've Got Their Shoes", which is about Donna and the Doctor getting into trouble with a body-swapping machine, and I just couldn't help but doing it with the Doctor and Rose.

9th Doctor and Rose.

Disclaimer: All proper nouns are © BBC ™


It wasn't often that Rose had trouble getting to sleep. Usually, the Doctor and her ended up running for their lives, and it was fantastic, yes, but bloody tiring. The running, the laughing, the flirting, perhaps a bit of panicking, and oh yes, more running… well, it was usually 'lights out' as soon as her head hit the pillow.

And last night was no different. They'd been flying laterally, something the TARDIS didn't often do, and wham… a tractor beam. It was very Spock. Of course, the Doctor didn't appreciate her pointing that out. The warring race of the Osmosians of Osmoid 7 were planning on capturing the caravan of the president from Osmoid 6.

In the true Doctor and Rose style, they uncovered a rather ridiculous looking machine which the Osmosians of Osmoid 7 claimed was a body-swapping device. Rose thought the thing looked a bit daft, held together with Duct tape. (The Doctor insisted that Duct tape was an alien invention, but Rose had to wonder, because those Osmosians looked like they weren't sure how the stuff worked. Not that humans really knew how it worked either, come to think of it.)

After the usual round of foiling heinous plots, the Osmosian President (Osmoid 6) asked the Doctor if he could perhaps dispose of the ridiculous looking "body-swapping machine". The TARDIS, having infinite room for any kind of junk that happened to catch the Doctor's attention became a storage container for a brand new body-swapping machine (and its' duct tape).

Rose smiled to herself as she remembered the Doctor's face bringing the thing on board. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. When she'd said goodnight to him, he'd grunted from somewhere under the machine, sonic screwdriver sticking out of his mouth.

And then Rose paused. And she smiled again. She ran her tongue over her teeth, and she felt her forehead crease. Something wasn't right. Her teeth felt strange. They didn't feel like her teeth. She opened her eyes and shot straight up.

The room she was in certainly wasn't the room she'd gone to sleep in. It was dark, and the bed was huge. The walls were a dark red color, and there was junk everywhere. There were a few desks, an armoire, and a… claw footed bathtub? Strange. She was in the Doctor's room. And her brain was especially slow this morning, so the first thing she thought of was "did we have sex?" When she looked around, she noticed that she was alone. (Should she be disappointed by that?)

Of course, when looking around, she also looked down at the bed, and her mouth fell open. In front of her were long, male legs that certainly hadn't been there last night. And they were attached to male hips, and a male waist, and a male chest. And as Rose Tyler's brain was especially slow right after waking, it took her a full minute to realize exactly what had happened, and where she was.

When she did realize it, she fell back onto the bed, groaning. It must be a Monday, back on Earth. Because stuff like this, it only happens on Mondays. Rose had always intended to ask the Doctor if there was some cosmic rule that Mondays had to be horrible, because it seemed like every sort of aggravating thing fell on a Monday.

And suddenly being inside of the Doctor's body… well, that was pretty aggravating. She finally understood what Mickey had always said about his morning problems. She forced herself to look away. It felt so flipping wrong, like she was some sort of peeping Tom. She wondered if the Doctor had realized what had happened yet. And yet, when she realized exactly how little she'd worn to bed last night, she smirked.

"How the bloody hell did this happen? Rose?"


The Doctor didn't often need sleep. His amazing Time Lord Physiology kept him from needing sleep. Once every few days, he would take a kip, just a few hours to recharge. He usually took his little power naps when Rose was asleep. No point in wasting what few hours of the day her inferior human body allowed her to be awake.

Normally, the Doctor just fell into bed and was out. But strangely, this morning, he found himself reluctant to open his eyes. His bed felt much more soft and warm than he remembered, and he was sure that Rose wasn't up yet. It couldn't hurt to lie in a bit. He turned his head, brushing against the pillow under his head. It was soft. When had his pillows ever been this soft before? And it felt like it was fuzzy. Some sort of fur or hair or something was tickling his face and neck.

And then there was that smell. It was a familiar smell, so familiar, yet he couldn't place it for the life of him. It was a bit floral.

Rose.

Ah, that's what it smelled like. Rose always had a sort of unique smell about her, not unpleasant at all, just utterly Rose. He'd once demanded to know what kind of perfume she used. She'd just shrugged and said that she used lotion mostly, because perfume doesn't last long when you're running from aliens. That, and it had gotten them into trouble with the Kerlap people, who had extremely sensitive olfactory systems (and pointy spears, it should be noted).

The Doctor's brain was in quite better shape than Rose's, but still he jumped to the first conclusion he could muster. Why would his pillow smell like Rose unless she had been in his bed for a period of time? (That shouldn't appeal to him, not at all.) His eyes shot open, and with them, he leaped from the bed.

Since when was his room pink?

Since he wasn't in his room at all, it seemed. He was in Rose's room. She had clothes strewn all about the place, and hanging over the chair was that Union Flag tee shirt she'd just bought, but not wore yet. There were bottles of nail varnish on the side table, and a few pictures. Curiosity got the better of him and he poked around in the drawer.

And slammed it shut immediately when he got a glimpse of his hand. And his chest.

Rassilon's Rod, he had breasts. When did he get those? He didn't remember getting them. And he was pretty sure he would remember something like that.

One: he was in Rose's room.
Two: He woke in Rose's bed.
Three: He had breasts.
Four: He'd been fiddling with that supposed "body-swapping" machine last night before nodding off.

He shuffled to the mirror, not really wanting to see what had happened, but needing to.

And there it was, all five foot five inches of curvy, blonde Rose Tyler. And he was in her body. And she was wearing a rather thin nightshirt that didn't even cover her knickers. And you should not be looking at that without permission, you idiot Time Lord.

"How the bloody hell did this happen?"

And if he was in her body…

"Rose?"

It wasn't the right time to notice that when he took a breath to yell for her, his… her chest pushed against the tee shirt. Huh, bra-less. Stop that, you pervert! He shook his head and strode out of the bedroom purposefully. He had to know what had caused this.

Stupid Duct tape.


Mwa ha ha! First part of a silly humor/romance fic. Body-swapping is amazing, thanks netgirly2k for the idea!