Drunk - Part 2

And so...stuff had happened. They had managed to make it back to the TARDIS first though. Luckily. Alcopop may be a party planet, but its supervisors wouldn't have taken too kindly to two visitors frolicking on their beach so blatantly.

And now...now he still has that problem, because Rose is still entangled with him and –

Oh dear. She's stirring...she's waking up...

Bugger.

"Doctor?" he hears her mutter sleepily. He stays quiet and very, very still. Rose lifts her head and blinks a few times; she feels a bit disorientated. When she realises where she is she jumps in surprise and falls out of his embrace, and backwards, onto the floor with a bump, taking the sheet with her.

He quickly grabs a bit of the sheet back to keep his modesty, and she stares at him, wide-eyed and shocked to her core.

"Hello," he says, holding the sheet at his waist.

Rose swallows thickly. "Hi," she replies, holding her end of the sheet at her chest.

"You going to sit on the floor all day?" he asks tentatively.

She frowns. "Maybe," is her nervous answer.

"Right."

She looks at him. He looks back at her. And slowly, a smile starts to spread over her face. He smiles back at her, glad to see she isn't repulsed by the notion of waking up in his arms; in his bed.

"We...we..." she stutters. She lets out a small giggle as amazement floods through her. "We danced..."

He grins down at her and holds out his hand. She takes it, and he pulls her up and back onto the bed. "Yes we did."

She sits in front of him, cross-legged, but with the sheet still grasped tightly in her hand at her chest to stop it falling down. "Wow," she murmurs, biting her lip.

"Indeed. Do you actually remember any of it? You were pretty drunk," he asks.

She blushes. "Oh, I remember," she tells him, feeling a bit flustered under his intent gaze. "Obviously I wasn't as drunk as we thought I was," she adds, laughing quietly.

"Is that a good thing?" he asks her nervously.

She looks him in the eye. "I don't know. I'm delighted that I can remember it, but I'm a bit embarrassed, too," she answers.

His brow crinkles. "Why's that?"

She flushes scarlet again. "Because of what I said," she says, her tone hushed and nervous.

"What did you – oh," he says, as he remembers the exact phrasing of what she asked him to do when they got back to the TARDIS last night. He grins widely. "Rose, you don't have to be embarrassed about that. You were just...well...excited and..."

"I'm not usually like that," she rationalises. "I think maybe the alcohol loosened up my inhibitions or something. I mean," she continues, gesturing with her hands. "I'm not usually that vocal...or, um...I don't usually swear like that and I think maybe I just..." she tries to justify, growing a deeper shade of red with each word she speaks. Her hand gestures escalate and she doesn't even realise that the sheet has now slipped. "And I..." she trails off, seeing the Doctor's gaze has slipped from her eyes. "Oh god," she mutters, as she pulls the sheet back up hastily. This consequently shifts it from the Doctor's lap a bit, and he grabs onto his end of the sheet and tries to pull it back.

After a few moments of a playful tug of war between them, they break into fits of giggles, and Rose throws caution to the wind and lunges at him, stealing the sheet for herself. She stands up on the bed and wraps it around herself as quick as a flash, and he abruptly realises that he is at a disadvantage now. She jumps off the bed and runs to the door, giggling to herself.

Looking him up and down briefly, she smiles at him, her tongue poking out between her teeth. "You want the sheet back, you're going to have to catch me first," she proclaims, before sprinting out of his room.

He blinks, staring at the space where she just stood, before jumping up and following her, now unashamed of his clothes-less state.

(It's quite liberating, actually, chasing after her like this. Naked.

Odd, that.)

He runs down a corridor, looking and listening out for any Rose Movement. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of white spin around a corner, and he turns and chases after it. As he rounds the corner, he swears his hearts almost stop beating. There, lying on the floor, is the bedsheet. He gulps and picks it up. He briefly contemplates tying it around his own body now, but instead puts it across his shoulder.

"Rose?" he calls.

(Knowing that she is now in fact sans sheet, he most definitely wants to find her. Very quickly.)

But he can't find her anywhere. For ages.

"Rose? I think I appear to have won, you know. I have the sheet after all. Except, I don't really feel like I've won," he improvises. "Because I haven't actually caught you. Until then, I fear I am simply a cheater with a sheet, but no beautiful woman to - "

" – You alright Doctor?" Rose interrupts, walking out of a door to his left. Fully clothed.

He blinks at her, briefly considering that he dreamt the entire escapade, but then she smiles at him teasingly and he knows she's simply being a bit of a minx.

He grins back at her. "Oh, I am just brilliant, Rose Tyler," he proclaims.

"That's good. Breakfast?" she asks, and he is bizarrely fascinated by the way she is carrying on as though nothing's happened.

He decides to wrap the sheet around himself now. "Yeah, why not," he replies, following her to the kitchen, puzzling about this new game they appear to be playing along the way.

"My head's killing me," says Rose, putting the kettle on. "Some of that stuff we drank was really strong."

"Yeah," he says simply, leaning against the counter.

"Still, a nice cup of tea will sort me out," she says then, placing a couple of teabags in two mugs.

"Mmm," he murmurs, wondering how to play this.

"Don't you want to get dressed today?" she asks conversationally, pouring in the hot water.

He sniffs. "Nah. Too much effort," he claims.

"Oh," she responds nonchalantly, fetching the milk from the fridge and pouring it in.

He accepts the mug she's passing to him, and goes and sits down at the table. She mimics his movements and sits opposite him. They sit there for a while, drinking their tea and watching one another over the rims of their mugs.

Obviously, it's the Doctor who breaks the silence. "So..." he begins. "What do you want to do today?" he asks Rose.

She profusely ignores the Replay images currently occupying her mind to answer him seriously. "Don't mind. Ooh, maybe we could go back to Tudor times?" she ponders.

"Yeah, good idea," he replies, mildly disheartened that she hadn't been considering the thing he'd been considering.

(You know what.)

(And she had been. But that's beside the point, because he doesn't know that.)

"Yeah," she says, trying to sound enthusiastic. "We could meet Henry the Eighth?"

"Mmm." He thinks for a moment. "No, wait. Actually, no, no, no. He's far too..."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "If you say 'dangerous' I'll know you've officially gone insane," Rose tells him.

"...dangerous," he finishes. "But not in that sense. I simply mean that he's quite likely to...um..."

(Make her fancy him. He's a very charming man. He can't let that happen.)

Rose interrupts him before he can think of how to phrase that. "Well, what about if we go a little later, and meet Shakespeare?" she asks.

"Yeah. Yes, that could work," he answers. He thinks for a moment, remembering all those sonnets. All those quotations of love et cetera. He then remembers hearing about Shakespeare's reputation with the ladies, and promptly shakes his head, changing his decision. "No, no. No. Nope. Too risky," he declares, mostly to himself.

Rose rolls her eyes. "Right. Who can I meet then?" she asks, almost impatiently.

He thinks.

He thinks some more.

Really, really hard.

Aha! That's it! He's realised it now:

The Answer.

"No one," he mutters quietly.

(He's just going to have to keep her locked up in here with him. Then no one will be able to steal her from him. Then he can have her all to himse –

- Woah. Woah, he's getting way too possessive. He's acting so selfishly. He can't stop her from meeting other people just in case she falls for one of them...)

I hope she doesn't fall for one of them.

She laughs, but something in his eyes makes her breath hitch. "Doctor?"

He blinks, and the look is gone, and he smiles, jumping up from his chair. "Only joking. Right, Shakespeare it is! We can ask him whether - "

" – Doctor?" Rose interrupts, standing up.

He swallows thickly. "Yes?"

She looks at him intensely, then bottles it. "Nothing. Go on. What were you saying?" she asks, and they walk out of the kitchen and into the console room while he babbles on and on about Shakespeare and Elizabeth and the Globe and Macbeth and everything else and Rose can't pretend to be listening anymore.

"So that's why he did that," the Doctor finishes.

"Right. That's nice," she comments.

"Yeah," he replies.

"So, did he ever - " she pauses then. "Oh, what am I doing?" she asks herself aloud, and before the Doctor can inquire what she means by that, she's flung herself at him and her lips are on his again. He responds immediately, and twists them around to push her against the console as his hands grasp her waist, pulling her tight against him. After several minutes, he tears his lip away from hers. "Finally. What was all that about?" he asks her, panting softly.

She smiles at him lazily, her forehead pressed to his. "I thought that maybe you'd end up regretting last night," she explains. "So I wanted to show you that if we were to go back to how we were before...before we slept together...I'd be able to deal with that. I didn't want you to throw me out if you thought that things would change between us."

He stares at her with a mixture of confusion and awe, and frames her head with his hands. "You are remarkable," he tells her, nuzzling her nose affectionately with his. "I'm wandering around with the bedsheet wrapped around my waist, and you're thinking I regretted last night?"

"I said, maybe. For all I know, you could still be pissed, or think you're dreaming or something, and - "

" – my dreams have never been that good," he tells her sincerely, and she blushes again. She keeps doing that.

(He rather loves it.)

"Anyway," she emphasises. "Like I said, I didn't want you to think I'm one of those needy human girls who, now she's had you, won't be able to stop touching you."

"'One of those...?'" he repeats. "I can assure you, you are the only needy human girl who, now she's had me, can't stop touching me. That I know of, anyway," he tells her.

She glares at him. "The idea was, I wouldn't turn out to be someone like that," she insists, with a prod to his chest.

"Rose, your little plan lasted all of ten minutes," he points out.

She bites her lip at that. "Yeah. S'pose it did," she concedes. "Guess you're too irresistible," she adds cheekily.

"Evidently," he grins cockily.

"Don't you?" she asks abruptly.

He's confused to what they are talking about now. "What?"

"Regret it," she clarifies.

He swallows nervously. "Do you?"

"No," she tells him honestly. "But do you?"

"If I did, I don't think I'd allow us to be standing in quite this position, eh?"

"No," she agrees. She smiles at him warmly. "So...Time Lords, yeah?" she begins carefully, and the Doctor knows that look in her eye. Time for the awkward questions.

"Yes?"

"You don't usually get...aroused...but you sort of went against that last night in my opinion, so...what's changed? Like you said, you're pretty old, right," she says, smiling cheekily, "So how come you're suddenly into...um, dancing again? If 'that part of your life was over centuries ago?'"

He smiles and leans closer into her, kissing her jaw line softly, and her breath hitches. "It's just you," he whispers against her neck.

"Oh," she exhales, deftly moving her hands to his waist and untying the sheet. It falls to the floor a moment later.

"Rose, this is entirely unfair. You're completely clothed, I'm completely...not," he tells her seriously, running his hand down her side.

"Doctor?" she says, her hands going on a dangerously low mission, travelling down his torso and beyond. "Truth or dare?"

He clears his throat, trying to keep focused on her voice rather than her wandering hands. "Tr – truth," he stutters, sealing his lips to hers once more. Her shirt comes off fairly soon after, as does her skirt, and he smiles at her lack of underwear.

(She came prepared, then.)

Rose pulls back from his kiss and he assaults her neck instead. He shifts them until she's resting on the console quite uncomfortably, but she really doesn't care about that because everything else feels gorgeous right now.

A few minutes later, she takes the opportunity - when he's a bit preoccupied with all the thrusting and some such - to ask him her 'Truth' question.

"Are you in love with me?" she whispers against his ear, her cheek brushing his along the way.

"Yes," he murmurs instantly.

Abruptly, he pauses his movements, breathing heavily as he replays that question and answer back over in his head.

Rose leans backwards a bit to see his face. She smiles radiantly at him, and urges him to continue. He smiles gently back at her, and does as she asks.

Right before the moment time stops and the stars shine bright in their eyes, she whispers, "I'm in love with you, too."

And that makes him love her even more.

(Turns out she didn't remotely mind him taking advantage of her. Which was a rather brilliant result, from both of their perspectives.)

A/N: Hey! Hope you liked it :D Please please review! xxx