Title: La Petite Mort (1/4?)
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose, Multi-Doctor/Rose (not all at once)
Rating: Adult, humor/angst/romance... did I mention the humor?
Summary: The Doctor never saw fit to warn Rose about things that could happen. And then they happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who... duh.
Author's Notes: Take a grain of salt and then read this story.
The Doctor stormed into the TARDIS, stalking up the ramp to the console as Rose trailed a little more slowly behind him
The Doctor stormed into the TARDIS, stalking up the ramp to the console as Rose trailed a little more slowly behind him. His fingers moved quickly over the console, sending them off into the vortex. As soon as they were on their way, he turned to Rose and crossed his arms over his chest, the sound of his leather jacket creaking the only noise he made. His eyes followed her as she joined him at the console.
She frowned at him, knowing he was going to yell. And for something that hadn't been her fault! How was she to know--
"You could've died." His voice boomed across the room, the power of it battering her already raw nerves. "You could've died and-- didn't I tell you not to touch the flowers?"
She drew her shoulders back, straightening up to look him in the eye. "Yeah, but I didn't know they were poisonous. You never said." Crossing her own arms over her chest, she returned his anger. "And I didn't die!"
"Does it matter that I didn't say why?" he asked in disbelief. He strode closer, staring down at her like he would a naughty child. "When I say not to do something, you don't do it. Doesn't matter why. You just don't do it."
She glared at him, dropping her arms and poking him in the chest. "Yes, it matters! Poisonous flowers I won't touch. Flowers that have healing powers--so say the locals--I will touch if they'd save you, you stupid..." she cast about for a fitting insult, but only finished with, "git!"
"Oh, a stupid git am I?" He shoved her finger from him with a swat of his hand. "Stupid ape."
She wanted to hit him. To make him feel the same panic she had when she saw him lying on the ground dying from a poison she'd never heard of. Wanted him to know that fear, that feeling of doing anything to save someone she lo--cared about.
But there was nothing she could do. He just wouldn't understand.
His eyes narrowed, waiting. For an apology? she thought, snorting mentally. It'd be a long wait.
"Arrogant Time Lord," she snarled, putting all of her anger, fear and fury into those three words.
His arms shot out, dragging her closer, so that their faces were centimeters apart. "Obtuse human."
Rage shot through her at the insult. She raised an eyebrow at him, making sure he knew that she wasn't impressed with what she saw.
His eyes raked over her, obviously finding her wanting as well.
She grabbed for him at the same time as his fingers tightened on her, drawing her in for a furious kiss. Hands touched, fingers splayed, teeth nipped, lips trailed paths across skin. Sweat-slicked, panting and breathless, they tore at clothes, nothing careful or tender in their eagerness to touch, taste and feel.
He lifted her to the console, placing himself between her spread legs, kissing and pressing against her. She grunted at the knobs and dials digging into her back and shoved him from her, leaving him following her with his mouth, the only thing left touching her.
"'S uncomfortable," she gasped.
She wrapped her legs around him and clawed at his neck, drawing him back down. He lifted her from the console and headed toward the interior of the ship. They made it to her room, barely. All clothing was thrown off, in some cases torn.
When he finally slid into her, she was near the edge already. He thrust into her, hard and fast, no waiting, no tenderness, no softness. They were wild and hot and tearing at one another.
Grunts filled the silence, followed by moans. Sounds Rose couldn't identify slipped from her lips. Nameless, wordless sounds that were just noises. Desperate, needy noises, striving to be set free, begging for the Doctor to complete the release she needed, to make it happen, now, now, now!
Finally, she arched her body into his, feeling it coiling tighter and tighter as he continued to thrust into her, hard, hard, so bloody hard she thought she'd be bruised by morning. But she didn't care. She needed him with an intensity that she'd never felt before. It'd been so long, months of foreplay had driven her near mental.
He slid his hands under her back and somehow sat back on his knees, drawing her with him in one smooth movement, angling deeper into her. Chest to chest.
And then finally she was coming. Hard. Shuddering against him as she continued to move on him. She came, then came down hard, breath panting, fingernails clawing, teeth sinking into his shoulder.
He was as out of control as she was, biting her here and there, tasting her skin, licking a path along her neck and jaw. Tongues dueled, played, fought for dominance, throwing off the pace and ruining his body's flow of thrust and retreat. She bit his lip then released it with a gasp as he plunged into her once more, then again, and a third time.
Grunting, grinding against her, jerking his hips, he came, her name on his lips.
Rose felt him go boneless, then stiffen. Frowning, she lazily opened her eyes and watched as a myriad of emotions played across his face. The most prominent one being chagrin.
"Oh, no." His whole body stiffened as he looked down at her. Sadness was winning out now, as he raised a hand to her face. She could see a slight glow emanating from him. Naked chest, sweat-slicked and glowing-- was this a Time Lord thing, glowing after sex? If so, why did he seem upset?
His hand rested along her cheek. "I was afraid this might happen. Been a while after all."
She drew back enough to search his face for an answer, but there was only regret now. "What's wrong? What is it? Did we..." she swallowed thickly, licking her dry lips, "did we do it wrong?"
He laughed at that, actually laughed deep and throaty and in a way that just sent shivers of pleasure through Rose's body. His grin remained after the laughter faded. The glowing grew more intense. "No, Rose. We didn't do it wrong. We did it right, in fact very right. But it means I'm gonna change."
She frowned at that, clamping down on the panic she could feel growing in her. "What do you mean, you're gonna change?"
The smile slipped away as gold light shimmered beneath his skin. "Every cell in my body's dying. This," he told her, eyeing her and running a hand down her side, sliding his fingers under her breast lightly, smiling at the shudder that went through her even now at his touch. "We shouldn't have done this."
She shifted on him and reached out to touch his face. "No."
"It's all right," he assured her. "Time Lords have this little trick, it's... sort of a way of cheating death. Except... like I said, it means I'm gonna change. And I'm not gonna see you again. Not like this, not with this daft old face."
He laughed a little and Rose wanted to smack him. "Make sense!"
He grabbed his stomach in pain, swallowing hard before returning his eyes to her face. "Remember, Rose..."
She stared at him fearfully, wanting to do something, but knowing from the expression on his face that there was nothing she could do. He knew his species better than she did. She leaned forward, hugging him tightly, kissing his neck. "What?"
He pulled away and stared down at her solemnly. "When I say don't touch something, don't touch it!"
Rose smacked him in the chest, caught between a laugh and a sob. "Shut up."
Suddenly, his body jerked and glowing orange light flew out from him, in every direction, nearly blinding her. She covered her eyes with one arm. He was burning up, his skin searing hers. His hair lengthened, his beautiful face changing to that of another man, someone she didn't recognize. And then the energy faded away.
A skinny brown-haired man with freckles was sitting beneath her, as naked as she was, still inside her.
Rose gasped at the different feel of his arms on her back, the shorter, thicker flesh inside her. A different mouth forming words centimeters from her own.
He grinned at her, and it was almost familiar. "Hello! Okay ooo." He gulped a little and Rose stared at him in bemusement as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "New teeth. That's weird." His body shifted a hair's breadth to the left, then the right, a look of pleasure lighting up his eyes. "New dangly bits too! Oh, that's... that's just brilliant."
Rose agreed, though she was shocked that her body was starting to respond to this stranger. A complete stranger. In her. Under her. Oh, god.
He looked down at her from the same height as the Doctor... the other Doctor, and his grin returned. "Is this awkward?" he asked, gesturing between them. Seeing her shocked stare, he continued, pulling his earlobe with one hand. "Yeah, this is awkward. Definitely awkward."
Rose stared at him, unmoving. Her arm rose to cover her chest as her eyes fixed on his freckled face, her body responding to the part of him that was still inside her.
After a few seconds, she shoved at him and scrambled off the bed, yanking off a blanket to wrap around herself as she went. "What? Ya think?" she snapped.
He was running his hands through his hair, not bothering to cover his nakedness at all. "I have hair! Oh, is it ginger? I've always wanted to be ginger." His big brown eyes fell on her, waiting excitedly.
She stared at him, at a loss. Was now really the time? She held one hand over her own head, motioning. "You're just, sort of... brown."
"Ohhhh!" he groaned in disappointment. "I've never been ginger."
Rose waited another few seconds for something... an explanation, anything from this man. The man who'd stolen the Doctor from her. When nothing was forthcoming, she grabbed a heavy brass-like vase she'd bought for her mum weeks before but had yet to give to her. Brandishing it, she tucked the edge of the blanket under her other arm and stepped closer. "Who the hell are you, and where's the Doctor?"
He looked up at her in surprise. "I'm right here, Rose." His hand raised in a brief wave, his smile slipping at her reticence. "It's me. Remember, don't touch the flowers? Stupid ape?"
She swallowed and blinked back the tears threatening to flow. "You're not him. He was... different. He had blue eyes. And a Northern accent."
He stood up, and she backed away. A flash of disappointment crossed his face. "Do you remember the first thing I said to you? I said, 'run'. And we did, Rose. Oh, we haven't stopped running yet."
She sniffed and stayed where she was when he stepped closer again. His hand reached out for her free one, clasping their palms together in a new, but familiar grip. The brass vase clunked to the floor. "Doctor?"
He grinned at her, tightening his grip on her hand. "That's me."
"But, what happened? You exploded," she accused, smacking him in the chest. Still naked. She averted her eyes, keeping them nice and angry on his face.
"Ow," he moaned, shrinking away from her. His eyes caught sight of her mirror and he hurried to it, bending over to peer through the many photos she'd stuck around the edges of it. "I'm a bit pretty," he complained, poking and prodding his cheeks while running a hand down his jaw.
"Can you change back?" she asked softly, wanting him to. Desperately wanting him to be her Doctor again. Blue eyes, short hair, big ears, big nose, achingly beautiful smile.
He turned round slowly, his eyes solemn as he regarded her. "Do you want me to?"
She nodded without hesitation. This man before her was not the Doctor. He was pretty, just like he'd said. And a bit scatterbrained. Though, he had just died and been reborn, so maybe she could cut him a little slack for that.
Sadness etched itself onto his face at her response. "No, I'm sorry. I can't."
She nodded in disappointment. "Oh."
He nodded as well, as if he understood something she hadn't said. And then he seemed to notice his lack of clothing for the first time. "Need some new clothes," he said listlessly. He pulled a sheet from the bed and began wrapping it around his waist.
"Doctor?" She didn't like that look on his face. Even if he wasn't her Doctor, he was still the Doctor.
Wasn't he? Yes, she thought so.
She'd have to work out the semantics of that later, but she recognized the loneliness in his eyes. The guarded way he was looking at her. She didn't like it one bit. "Why'd you change? What happened?"
He looked up, his eyes barely landing on her at all. "Oh, Time Lord thing. Artron energy, chemicals in the brain, background radiation, no sex for, ohhhh, a while." He paused and considered his words. "Well," he said, dragging the word out, "I say a while. Centuries?"
"And... you don't get to choose what you look like?" Though she didn't think so; he'd been surprised by not being ginger, and by being pretty.
"No. Well, some can," he amended, "but that's unusual. It's complicated. Regeneration is a bit like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna-- hang on, no. That's Forrest Gump."
Rose giggled, then bit her lip to hide it. He was a bit gabby, this one. "So, you're stuck looking like a pretty boy?"
His brows furrowed at her, his eyes finally finding her face again. "Oi. I'll have you know that's your fault."
"What?" She snorted, pushing at his shoulder.
"It's true. I'm influenced by those around me during regeneration." He pursed his mouth, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and biting on it a bit. "Accent too. That's all you."
She stared at him, not sure if she should believe him or not. "You're havin' me on."
"Nope." He popped the 'p' sound, and grinned at her.
She was horrified. Guilt swept through her. Why hadn't he mentioned anything? Why hadn't he at least brought up the possibility? But, no. Instead, he'd just shagged away, uncaring for his own life. Stupid git. "So not only did I kill you by shagging you, I also made you pretty and gave you your accent?"
"Well, this killing me thing is a bit more complicated than simply shagged-to-death. When a Time Lord dies, he regenerates. Ever heard of la petite mort?" He over-pronounced the T's, playing the words around in his mouth.
She nodded and grabbed a pair of knickers and a shirt to put on. As she dressed again, she watched him watch her in the mirror. It seemed some things didn't change with regeneration. He still liked watching her. "The little death. Shareen loved to call it that, thought it sounded better than climax or orgasm."
The Doctor cleared his throat and picked up his jumper from the other side of the bed. She saw, in the mirror, that his sheet was tenting a little and had to hide a snicker.
"Yes. That. It took a lot of little things to combine into one big thing to make me regenerate, but the bottom line is... we can't ever do this again." His eyes met hers in the mirror, letting her know he knew she was watching him.
"Well, that's one hell of an abstinence program," she mumbled, biting her lip. She turned away, sliding on a pair of jeans. "You can never have sex again? Ever?"
"Oh, no, I can. Just not with you."
She snapped around at that. "What? So, it is my fault."
"No, it's not," he said hastily as he slid the jumper over his head, his eyes searching for his jeans. Spotting them a few yards away, he grabbed them up, released the sheet and stepped into them in one fluid motion. "Well, not exactly. It's you and me. Together."
"Why?" she mused, shoving her hands into her back pockets. "Something about humans, then?"
"No." He fastened his jeans, frowning at the looseness of them. The jumper was a bit baggy on him as well. He wasn't much shorter. Just thinner. "Not humans. You, Rose Tyler. Something in your chemical makeup reacted with my chemical makeup and a whole host of other things. All random, all natural. All deadly."
She blinked at him. Not that she had accepted him as the Doctor completely yet, and it felt a little like betrayal to be discussing this with him like this right now, but... now that she'd been told she couldn't ever sleep with him again, she suddenly wanted to. A lot.
"Never again?" she confirmed, just in case she'd heard him wrong. Never was a long time.
"Never again." His eyes found hers, then slid down to her lips, her chest. He tried to put his hands in his pockets, but faltered a little and ended up dropping them by his sides. "Not ever."
"Oh." She dropped her eyes to the floor, seeing all the blankets and pieces of clothing spread out everywhere and twisted her lips a little, feeling decidedly out of sorts. Her eyes rose to his again. "You're sure-- not even a little..." she gestured absently.
"Yes." He, too, looked unhappy about the decision. But, then he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Easy peasy. We went for months with... nothing. We can go back to that." And then he grinned and clapped his hands together excitedly, the matter of no-sex forgotten. "I need to find some new clothes! And you, Rose Tyler, should get some rest. Don't want your mum accusing me of mistreating you."
"What?" Admittedly she was paying more attention to his lips than his actual words when he spoke, but the mention of her mum snapped her out of her thoughts. "Mum?"
"That vase isn't going to deliver itself, now is it? Come on!" And with that, he strode out of her room.