The TARDIS doors swing open widely and the Doctor and Rose lurch through them into the console room. They are both laughing madly, drowning out the voices of the angry townspeople beyond the rapidly closing doors.
"Only you could manage to get us into trouble like this, Doctor. Honestly, if you're going to seduce an alien bug queen the only decent thing to do is to go through with the mating ritual." She's not even trying to keep a straight face as she blames him for their having to make – yet another – madcap dash for freedom.
She collapses onto the jump seat in a heap of giggles and pops her feet up onto the console. He begins the familiar takeoff routine of dancing circles around the console, twirling dials, flipping levers and slamming one button home with the aid of a well placed mallet thump.
"Oi! It's not my fault I'm this irresistible. I certainly never encouraged it, erm – her, uh – the Queen, that is. Like so many females before her, she just fell victim to my unmatched charms." He continues to enter calculations for their next destination, and then turns to her sternly. "You, Rose Tyler, could have done a better job of protecting my honor!"
"Your what?!" She stares at him in amused disbelief. "You're going to try and turn this around on me? How exactly should I have 'protected' you?"
"Well, if you would have let me tell the Queen we were together, she wouldn't have felt the need to … ah… pursue… me so aggressively."
"If you recall, oh mighty wise Time Lord, iyou/i were the one who said we couldn't tell anyone on this planet we're like that. Something about requiring us to celebrate our love with public copulation? Ringing any bells, there?" She gives him a playful knock on the forehead and he grins back at her.
"Yes, well. I think I would have preferred the – ahem – public copulation to what that Queen had planned. Did you see the size of her stinger?" He shudders violently at the memory – and the knowledge of what the Queen had planned to do with it. "Anyway," he shakes off that thought, "like I said, not my fault I'm irresistible."
"Oh you're handsome enough, I'll give you that. But I don't know that I'd go so far as to say irresistible," she teased.
"Ha! Please! You never stood a chance. When I turn on the charm, I could entice a Llorba worm away from its life-mate." He runs a hand smoothly through his perfectly just-the-right-amount-of-mussed hair.
"Bit full of ourselves, aren't we?" Rose snorted.
"Come on," he purrs as he turns his patented make-her-knees-weak look on her. He's standing right in front of her now. "You can't honestly say you could resist me – even if you tried? Especially after all the time we've spent together. The things we've done with each other… ito/i each other?" His smile is bright, but his eyes are darkening. "I know all your weak spots, Rose Tyler." Demonstrating said knowledge, he trails a hand down the side of her face and leans in to give her a kiss. His lips press against hers, lightly at first, then more aggressively – exactly the way she likes. His tongue runs along her lower lip and she opens her mouth in a sigh as the pleasure washes over her. He takes advantage of the opening and deepens the kiss, moving with determination, sweeping his tongue along her teeth, stroking her tongue with his own. She leans into him, pressing against him before remembering their conversation. As she realizes the sheer big headedness that went into his comment, she pushes him away. With hands on her hips, the look she gives him is all Jackie.
"That sounded an awful lot like a challenge."
"A what? A challenge? Huh? No! No, it's not a challenge!" He's hastily trying to save the situation, to placate her so she'll let him get back to what they had been doing a moment ago.
"No? It sounded to me like you were saying I was some sort of spineless chit who would fall all over you the second you crooked your finger my way. Is that what you think?"
"Oh – of course not! Not at all! What we have is one hundred percent mutual – if anything, I think you were the one who seduced me." He snuggles up beside her on the jump seat, putting one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "All I was saying was if I ever ireally/i turned on the charm, you wouldn't stand a chance."
She had been letting him cuddle close to her up until that last sentence. "Is that right?" She pushed herself to a standing position, leaving him sitting alone. "Two weeks enough time, then?"
"Two weeks? Enough time for what? What are you getting at Rose? Where are you going?" This last sounded almost plaintive and he quickly cleared his throat and put a more respectable expression on his face. Not good form for a seduction to sound like a whinging child.
"Two weeks." She nods her head firmly. "You have two weeks to – as you call it – 'turn on the charm'. We'll see just how irresistible you ireally/i are!"
"But! But…!" It's too late. She has already walked out of the console room and is halfway down the hallway while he sits there, wondering when, exactly, the whole post-near-death victory celebration got away from him.
It had been twelve days since her challenge to him. Twelve long, long days. She had to admit, when he put his mind to something, he iwas/i pretty persistent. Day three saw the onset of her menses, something he sensed without her having to say a word, and he backed off the hard-sell for the five days it took for that to pass. But since then, he was taking no prisoners.
Up until two days ago, she had been managing things quite well, if she did say so herself. However, after a particularly difficult dinner and dessert (no man should be allowed to lick an ice cream cone like that in public!), she had retired to her room to find sabotage. When she first walked into the room, the TARDIS made apologetic sounds. Since the Gamestation, she's been more in tune with the TARDIS, but she couldn't quite make out what this particular sound might be referring to. Until, that is, she got out of the shower, crawled into bed and pulled open her nightstand drawer. There, in the drawer, where there should be a trusty battery-powered friend, a friend that had been well used recently as a matter of fact, there was nothing but a note. She growled in frustration and resisted the urge to throw the paper across the room. Instead she grabbed the small sheet of note paper and opened it up to read,"No cheating!"
Since then, things have been a bit more difficult. Oh, she's still been able to take care of things, but the frustration levels he has been building in her have been so intense that, well, doing things by hand haven't quite satisfied the way she would have liked.
She just has two more days. Two more days and she will not only have won their contest, she's also going to chain him to her bed for at least a week. She has wondered more than once over the past days what possessed her to make such a stupid challenge in the first place. The only conclusion she has come to is that there's just a little too much Jackie Tyler DNA running through her veins. It's that Jackie Tyler DNA that prevents her from just calling the whole thing off, too.
She sighs heavily at that thought and readies her resolve. Time to face him again. She leaves the safety of her bedroom and walks the halls toward the TARDIS kitchen for some breakfast. Before entering the kitchen, she pauses for a moment to square her shoulders. Two more days. She can do this. She iwill/i do this.
Before she can step into the kitchen though, she hears a whisper in her ear from behind her.
"Good morning, Rose." His breath is warm on her face. He's standing right behind her, his hand runs up and down the length of her arm, moving on to rest lightly on her hip.
"I was just thinking about you," he continues softly, his mouth still tantalizingly close to her ear. "While I was waiting for you to wake up. I was thinking about how much you like it when I use my tongue on you. About the noises you make and about how you taste." She groans. She's not even had a cup of tea yet; her resolve is weak. "How your thighs squeeze my head when I make you come. I was just working on the gravitational thrusters, thinking about how much I want to taste you right now and I had the most amazing realization. Do you know that in all this time, I've never tried to trace the Gallifreyian alphabet on you – in you – with my tongue?"
He punctuated this startling revelation with a series of light kisses up and down the curve of her neckline. "Mmmm. I'm looking forward to that, you know. All those circles and curlicues?" Her knees began to weaken as she pictured the handwritten notes he had up all over the place. They really were rather… circly. Oh lord, is that the best she can come up with? Every time he does this, something in her brain turns to mush. Oops, he's talking again. She really shouldn't listen, it would be much better if she could just tune him out. But she can't resist listening to the silken, yet husky voice in her ear.
"You know, the Gallifreyian alphabet has 262 letters, Rose?" He licks gently at her earlobe and – god help her, did she just moan? iStop it! Get a hold of yourself!/i "When I was a boy, Rose, I remember practicing my letters. It would take ihours/i. Just writing them, over and over and over and over again. I'm looking forward to practicing my letters again. Would you like that, Rose? Hmm?" Every time he says her name, her stomach clenches. His hands are roaming freely now – brushing lightly across her nipples which are tightening into hard nubs even through the fabric of her t-shirt. She realizes suddenly as his hand settles over the zipper of her jeans that she is leaning back into him, practically rubbing her backside against him. When did that happen? What is she doing? Her body is betraying her.
She pushes herself away from him with a surprised squeak. "I – uh – just remembered! Um. I forgot to shower! I'll be back… later….," and she escapes down the corridor, back to her room. She leans with her back against her bedroom door, panting. Oh, he's playing dirty now, she thinks. He must be starting to worry he's going to lose and now he's pulling out all the stops. If this is what she has to look forward t o, the next two days are going to be torture.
She moves into the bathroom, pulling her clothes off and mumbling to herself. iForgot to shower? Really? That's the best you could come up with?/i Now she'll need to actually take a shower again. He'll be able to tell somehow if she doesn't. Whether by the smell of her soap or some super-special Time Lord water usage sense – she doesn't know and doesn't care anymore. She's so frustrated she just wants to scream. She steps into the warm water of the shower grumpily. As she recognizes a self satisfied hum to the TARDIS' normal sounds, she looks up and a wide grin spreads over her face. The TARDIS is clearly trying to make up for what the Doctor had taken. Where there had been a functional and efficient small showerhead earlier that morning, there was now a multi-purpose version, complete with detachable massage wand. If she wasn't quite so amazingly desperate, she might have felt a bit self-conscious about a semi-sentient ship providing her with something so… personal. As it was, however, she directed a quiet iThank you/i in her head toward the TARDIS and chose to believe that the ship would take her sentience elsewhere for the next fifteen minutes while Rose happily entertained thoughts of the Gallifreyian alphabet.
When she emerges from her room a short time later, she is feeling much more sure of herself and her ability to win this contest of theirs. She strides down the hall toward her delayed breakfast, her new-found confidence evident in her walk. When she enters the kitchen, he is sitting at the table with a cup of tea in front of him. By the looks of his damp hair, he must have taken a shower too. She wonders with a smirk if his shower was anywhere near as… satisfactory… as hers was. Based on the languid way he is lounging in the chair, she suspects it was.
He gives her a knowing smile that shakes her new-found self-confidence just the tiniest bit. Just enough that she sounds testy when she asks him "Enjoying yourself, then?"
"Not as much as I was a few minutes ago," he answered with grin.
She groans a little as she realizes he still has no intentions of leaving her to have her breakfast in peace. But even still, some perverse part of her can't help but ask, "Oh, and why's that, then?"
His grin widened as she takes his bait. "Your talk about a shower sounded so good I decided to have one myself. Of course, our talk earlier had my mind wandering so I found myself having the most amazing fantasy. Shall I tell you about it?" He gazes longingly into her eyes for so long she almost finds herself saying yes.
"No! Erm. No, thanks. I'm sure it was lovely and everything, but you don't need to share."
"Oh but I want to, Rose Tyler. I want to. Very much, in fact." He warms up to his topic and leans forward in his chair eagerly. "You see, in this fantasy of mine, instead of me in my shower and you in yours, we were both in the same shower. My shower, as a matter of fact. Nice and roomy with warm water pouring down over top of us from all directions." His eyes close as begins to recount his story.
"We spent quite some time soaping each other up – getting the lather into all the nooks and crannies so to speak. Hands slipping and sliding over every inch of each other. Eventually all that touching lead to… other kinds of touching. A more intimate kind of touching. One you haven't let me do in while." This last is almost pouting. And really, did he think she didn't know what kind of touching he was talking about? She wonders if the lack of sex is affecting his mind or maybe it's hers.
His pout changes to something entirely different as he continues. "Of course, in my fantasy, you ilet/i me touch you. You iwanted/i me to touch you. At one point, you were actually ibegging/i me to touch you."
She knows she should stop him. Needs to stop him. But she can't make the words cross her lips.
"First, I turned you so you were facing the wall, your hands bracing your body as I slid my hands up and down your wet body. Every time I passed a breast, my fingers brushed them – oh so lightly, Rose! Then I reached one hand down between your curls, to that place we both love so much." He gave her a wicked smile, his eyes heavily lidded. Her breathing quickened as she imagined herself in the position the Doctor described. She vividly remembers how talented those fingers of his are.
"So I began to stroke your center, over and over, until it wasn't just water making my hand wet. I could hear your breath getting ragged in that way I know means you're close, so very close to coming. So I stopped stroking you like that and moved my hands back up to touch your arms, your back, your thighs." Her breath hitched; even though it was a fantasy she felt bereft from the loss.
"You see, Rose, you've been ivery/i naughty the past couple weeks. Making me wait. Making me crazy for you. In this fantasy of mine, I made you pay for that. I made you iwait/i for your release, just like you made me wait for mine." He grinned wickedly at her. "After a few minutes of teasing at your breasts, your sides, all those sensitive spots I've found on you in the past, I went back to touching you where your ireally/i wanted me. Again, I stroked and stroked you, whispering all the things I wanted to do to you in your ear, just until you got close again. When I stopped this time, you sobbed with the loss."
Both of their breaths were coming in pants at this point. Her eyes were closed, picturing the scene in stunning, lifelike, detail.
"But I wasn't through with your punishment yet, Ms Tyler. Oh no! I kept this torture up two more times. By the end, you begged me to take you, to finish you, to let you have your release. That's when I finally gave in. In one hard thrust, I entered you from behind, while setting up a rhythm of stroking you that was certain to push you over the edge quickly. Oh and you didn't disappoint – I had barely started moving in and out of your warm, wet body when you came. Oh the feeling of your muscles clamping down on me and the howling scream of your release was enough to send me over the edge. A couple more thrusts and I was drained completely."
His breathing, which had been shallow during the description of his fantasy, begins to even out. Rose is not recovering quite so quickly. All semblance of control she had entered the kitchen with had vanished.
"I can't begin to describe the effect you have on me Rose, even in my fantasies." He grabs her hand and looks soulfully into her eyes. "These past days have been torture, my love. Please, please – can we just call it a draw?" He slides his chair closer and closer to her with each word until they are sitting side by side and his hands begin to caress the side of her face, the nape of her neck, moving ever downward.
Rose has made her decision. She may have Jackie Tyler's DNA and upbringing, but she also had Pete Tyler's innate sense of when a deal is too good to pass up. iScrew the contest! Screw my pride – all it's done is made me crazy the past two weeks!/i she thought. iI love him. I want him. That's what really matters./i
She met his eyes, straight on without flinching or looking away, for the first time in days. "Doctor, if it's one thing I know better than most, it's that life's too short for playing games. I'm sorry it took me twelve days to figure it out."
His smile widened from ear to ear as she climbed into his lap and took his mouth in a blistering kiss. When she pulled back for breath a few minutes later, she asked, "So what's this you were saying about the Gallifreyian alphabet, then?"
He chuckled, lifted her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder like a caveman claiming his bride. "Oh don't you worry, Rose! I'm going to show you in exquisite detail. " And he carried her off toward the nearest bedroom.