Disclaimer: Me? Owning Doctor Who? You've got to be joking!...Oh. You are joking...Damn, guess I don't own it, then...
Disclaimer Take Two: I don't own Star Trek, either...I am bereft of Sci-Fi ownership.
Disclaimer Take Three: Part of the dialogue (refering to textbooks, cold fusion, and the physics errors in Star Trek) actually come from an episode of Criminal Minds called The Popular Kids...I just messed around with it...I'll put it back in one piece, honest!
A/N: The line from Criminal Minds sparked this one because I could definitely imagine the Doctor and Spencer Reid getting on like a house on fire (which would probably happen, knowing the two of them!), and I needed a way to release some exam tension and vintage Series Two and a bit of TenRose or Alt!TenRose fluff seemed like a good plan, so enjoy!
A/N Take Two: Please remember that all reviews are greatly appreciated so once you've finished reading, have a go at pressing the purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page...Pretty please with an even prettier Time Lord on top?
The noises from the adjacent room shook Rose out of a sinfully entertaining dream, and back into the reality that actually, she wasn't on Polarfrey's Fifteenth Moon, no, there was no imminent threat from the Y'nicas, it was two o'clock in the morning, and, most unfortunately of all, the Doctor had not just started to remove his trousers…In fact, he was nowhere to be seen to have said trousers removed. She had to admit that it worried her when he wasn't around when she woke up; he still wasn't quite used to human conventions and he was likely to wander off in the middle of the night and turn up anywhere from their neighbour's back garden, to a police station on the other side of London. Fortunately, though, judging by the sounds coming from the living room, he had the TV on full blast. It didn't help her to sleep, but at least he hadn't gone off somewhere.
She hauled herself out of bed, pulling on her favourite fluffy pink dressing gown (and extracting his makeshift sonic screwdriver from one of the pockets) before padding into the next room, folding her arms and assuming her best 'You'd-better-have-a-damn-good-reason-for-watching-something-at-full-volume-in-the-middle-of-the-night' expression. It softened considerably when she looked at the TV and saw Leonard Nimoy; the Doctor was a geek to the last.
"So, this is what keeps you up at night then…" she said, smirking slightly as his head shot up like a deer in headlamps.
"Rose-" he began, but she cut him off.
"You know, I always thought it was something like memorising some obscure textbook, or maybe working on cold fusion, but no, it's all about watching Star Trek and laughing at the physics mistakes!" She giggled.
"Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. I mean, there's certain improbabilities, sure, but not that many outright errors. You saw for yourself that warp drives are possible…" He trailed off, looking at her expression; she seemed to be about to explode with laughter.
"God, you really are a geek, aren't you?" she exclaimed, plonking herself down onto the couch next to him (they had found a new one since the furniture apocalypse) and snuggling into his chest. He wound an arm around her, pulling her closer.
"I thought that was what you loved about me?" he questioned teasingly.
"Weeeellll," she said, stretching the word in a perfect imitation of him. "It's one reason."
He sat up straighter and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "So what else do you love about me?"
"Well your modesty, definitely!" she said, laughing again, hitting him playfully on the arm. "Um…I guess I love how you check your hair in every available reflecting surface," His hand flew to his carefully sculpted mess of hair and rumpled it self-consciously. "I love that you reduce everything to science yet you still manage to have the human touch, I love that you eat marmalade by sticking your fingers straight into the jar, even though it annoys the hell out of me…" He laughed and cuddled her closer to him. "I love how you're always tinkering with anything electronic, despite the fact that you always make a mess of the place, and I love that you sit up in the middle of the night watching Star Trek on full blast." She grinned up at him, blushing slightly at the sheer absurdity of having to explain all of it to him. She felt like she was talking to a Machiaal, who can only speak to each other when they're stating the obvious.
She felt a lot better when he grinned right back. "You're crazy, Rose Tyler, do you know that? Putting up with me…"
"I thought that was what you loved about me?" she said, repeating his earlier words with a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
His smile grew wider, bright in the light blaring from the forgotten TV set. "Weeeellll, it's one reason."
"Hmm, I thought it might be," she teased, pulling his arm down to rest against her stomach. "So what else do you love about me?"
"Everything," he said simply. "I love the way your face lights up when you giggle like a five-year-old, I love that you still feel the need to dye your hair blonde even though you haven't seen Shareen in years, I love how long you spend shopping for clothes, even though it bores me to an early grave, I love your zest for life, and more than anything, I love you, Rose, all of you, don't ever doubt that." She smiled, ducking her head into the crook of arm to hide her expression, which was one of pure bliss. "But do you know what I love more right now?" he asked, lifting her face to look at him.
"No," she said. "What?"
"Bed." He grinned down at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until she hit him again.
"You're absolutely insatiable, you alien moron!" she squealed, shimmying out from under his arm and standing in front of the television, hands on hips. "Normal humans have limits, you know, Doctor!"
He smirked. Again. "Jeez, Rose, I wasn't suggesting that! It's three o'clock in the morning, not all of us have such dirty minds!" She scowled at him as he made his way to the door of their bedroom, shouting back to her; "But feel free to tell me all about your dream in the morning…it sounded, what's the word? Oh yeah…interesting…"
She grimaced and followed him, sliding in between the covers and trying very hard to forget the images of the Y'nica and the Doctor divesting himself of his pinstripe trousers to 'throw it off the scent'. She didn't sleep well that night.