They hadn't said much of anything to each other since they left Dårlig Ulv-Stranden. The new Doctor was slightly concerned, but not overly worried, because Rose had not let go of his hand since he took hers after the TARDIS left. She held it in the car Pete had sent to bring them to the airport, where a private zeppelin was waiting. She held it on the zeppelin, as Jackie chatted away and showed the Doctor pictures of Tony and every major event in his life thus far – major events comprising everything from his first words to the first time he ate a cracker in the kitchen with overalls on.

Rose held this new Doctor's hand so tight, because she wanted to be sure he was really still there. She couldn't quite look at him, but she didn't for a second want to forget that he was there, next to her, and that this time he wouldn't leave her. She held his hand so tight that his one heart could not continue to pump blood into it. He waited to tell her this for as long as he could, and when he finally said something about "that's a little too tight," she startled, gasped, and quickly withdrew her hand like his had suddenly turned to fire. "But don't stop," he said, quietly and sincerely, looking directly and intensely into her eyes for the first time since they were on the beach. She met his eyes for a moment and her heart skipped a beat – or several – and her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly looked away, out the zeppelin window. She couldn't take that intensity just yet. Nevertheless, her hand settled back on his, more gently this time.

She didn't let go of his hand until they were outside the door of the guesthouse of the Tyler mansion, where Rose had been living. Pete had had to give her the key - she hadn't thought she would need it again. They stood awkwardly for a moment at the door, still hand-in-hand, not wanting to let go, until Rose said, slightly embarrassed,

"Well, shall I open the door then?"

"Oh yeah, go ahead."

"I need my hand."

"Oh, of course, yeah, funny that."

Rose let them in. The house was small, one room, with a double bed opposite the door, an open kitchen to the left and a bathroom to the right. Because it was the only place to sit, the Doctor parked himself on the edge of the bed. Rose breathlessly asked, "Tea?" and started rustling around the bare kitchen, digging out dusty mugs and searching cupboard corners for spare teabags.

"No," said the Doctor, watching her. "Yeah, me either," said Rose, as she stopped the futile search, but kept pacing about the small house, ill at ease and unable to settle herself.

"Please sit," the Doctor said gently. She kept pacing. "I'll let you squeeze my hand to death again."

With this awful joke, Rose smiled, a little tearfully, and came to sit next to him on the bed, close but not touching, her hands clenched between her legs so he would not reach out to touch her just yet.

"Say something." she asked him, tears starting to brim in her eyes.


She smiled and punched him in the arm.

"Ow! That hurt!" the Doctor said sounding surprised. "Ok then, Rose Tyler." Returning to a more serious mood, he took a deep breath, and looked at her closely, one eyebrow up, as Rose looked down at her hands. "It's ok to mourn him."

Rose let out a sob, and let a few tears fall, but she lifted her head and nodded. "I know," she said as she tried to wipe her tears away.

"And it's ok to mourn him, and still love me," the Doctor added.

"Is it?"

"Yes. But I know it takes time. I can go back to the mansion, I'm sure they have a stuffy old couch I can sleep on, I do love stuffy old couches…"

"No!" Rose interjected, vehemently. "No, don't go! Stay here, please?" Rose said, a begging hint in her voice.

"Absolutely," the Doctor replied, love and hope filling his heart and his voice. He took his thumb and wiped a tear off her cheek, and then swept her hair back behind her ears. Rose looked up at him, finally meeting his gaze, as his hand rested on the side of her face. That face had stayed in his mind all the time he missed her, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself from it. He smiled his beautiful smile, and Rose's heart leapt.

"So, now what?" Rose asked.

"We could play a board game or something. I like board games. You know, that's what the TARDIS needed, board games for those long trips. You know the Boflican play chess with frozen cut-off fingers?"

"Shut up," Rose said, the same way she always did. She said it softly, and a little sensuously, her eyes drifting from the Doctor's deep brown eyes to his lips.

The Doctor smiled, and then Rose sat impossibly still as the Doctor, with the most gentle, light touch, kissed her, on her face, everywhere there had been a tear – her cheek below the eye, the tip of her nose, the edge of her mouth, her jaw line. He continued to her neck, more light, brief kisses, but with erotic intention slipping more and more into each one. Rose shivered.

"I can stop if you want," this more human, more lustful Doctor whispered.

"Shut up, you tosser," Rose replied, as she shifted her body towards him, moving in closer and lifting a hand up to the back of his head, where her fingers could play in his great, great hair. She pulled his head up and they looked at each other, their faces mere millimeters away, as they breathed heavily, slightly scared but excited about this new dimension of their relationship. The Doctor moved in closer to meet her lips, and the kiss started slow, but accelerated as Rose wrapped her arms around the Doctor to pull him in tightly to her.

They began to kiss more quickly and passionately, their lips pressing together, their tongues exploring each other's mouths more deeply, more desperately than they had at the beach. They held each other as tightly as they could, not wishing to have any more space between them than it was possible to have.

They leaned back onto the bed, Rose lying down, with the Doctor lying on his side, next to her and leaning over her to continue the kiss, as his hand rested lightly at her waist.

Pulling away just slightly, their lips still brushed up against each other, the Doctor asked, "are you sure about this?" not wanting to rush her or impose his newfound sexual desire on her.

"Never more sure in my life," she said, and she grabbed his head while reaching up to kiss him again. Sure of consent, the Doctor started moving his hands places he never thought his hands would go. The hand at her waist slowly wandered and caressed downward, first feeling her hips, her lovely hips that always looked so good in stretchy black pants. He absorbed every detail, like how hard her hipbone felt against the heel of his hand. He lifted her shirt just a little so he could touch her skin, feel what temperature it was, how smooth it was, how it had just the right amount of give to it. Then to her thigh, so he could feel its circumference, how rounded it was, how much of it he could reach around with his hand. He then moved to the back and up a little to her butt (also, glorious in those pants).

Rose almost wanted to laugh. She would be lying to herself if she said that she'd never imagined, fantasized really, about herself in this kind of situation with the Doctor, but still, it was hard to think of him in that way. To think of the Doctor wanting her, not for her mind, or her sense of adventure, or her kind heart, but for her body. It was strange, but it turned her on all the more.

"What?" the Doctor asked. Clearly her thinking had distracted her and made her a less engaging kissing partner. "Too fast? Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's just… do you really want me?"


"Do you want me?"

"Oh, Rose Tyler," he said, kissing her lightly several times. "You silly, wonderful human girl." She cleared her throat. "Woman, sorry." More kisses, then he pulled away, to look at her seriously and say with earnest, "I want you, very, very much." He swept in for a long, passionate kiss, physical proof of his statement, before pulling away and asking, "Why? Do you want me?"

"Always," she replied, and she pulled him in towards her again, resuming the kiss and vowing not to let the newness of the situation distract her from how wonderful it was to be getting what she'd wanted for so long, but thought she could never have.

Their mutual desire established, the Doctor continued to touch her in places neither of them ever thought he would, as Rose watched him approvingly. The Doctor explored the curve under her arms, that led so perfectly to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, felt the perfect weight of them. Rose groaned ever so faintly. As she thought of more places she wanted him to touch her, and places she wanted to touch him, she felt, pressed against her leg, a hardness from him that she'd never felt before.

"Hello, Doctor," Rose whispered in a mock scandalous tone, her tongue sticking out teasingly between her teeth. The Doctor blushed and smiled abashedly, embarrassed by his human body's reaction. This adorable gesture only made Rose want him more. She lunged, kissing him ferociously and turning onto her side so that they could press their bodies together face to face.

"You're… wearing… entirely… too many clothes," Rose managed to get out between kisses, as she struggled to get his suit jacket off. It was amazing how good his body looked in just that tight red t-shirt. She caressed his torso, over the shirt, and then lifted it slightly to get an admiring glimpse of his lanky frame. Then her hand wandered to the bulge in his pants, and she stroked the growing cock inside, giving it a little squeeze, to see what his reaction would be. He groaned ever so softly.

The Doctor removed Rose's jacket, her tank top, and bra, which he had trouble with. "You can drive a TARDIS, but you can't…" Rose teased. "Shhhut up," responded the Doctor, a little flustered. As he finally got the bra off and flung it across the room he shouted "Ah!" triumphantly, as he so often did when he'd solved a complex problem.

He paused to admire her breasts. "Stunning," he whispered, and he proceeded to gently kiss, tongue and fondle each nipple, leaving Rose whimpering, before he returned to her mouth to explore it with his tongue.

While still kissing, Rose undid the button and fly of the Doctor's pants and he helped by kicking the pants off. The Doctor wasn't wearing underwear, which made Rose smile (typical Time Lord, too busy saving the world to worry about underwear). She touched his cock, which was long and skinny like he was. The skin was smooth and it felt perfect and cool in her hand. The Doctor closed his eyes in appreciation of her touch.

She ran her fingers up and down his cock's length, tickled the tip, and then closed her hand around it and stroked. Simultaneously, the Doctor moved his hands to Rose's pants, undid the button so he could slip his hand inside. He teased her, stroking her hair, feeling her opening and its wetness but not touching that spot just yet, as Rose groaned in anticipation. When the Doctor finally put his finger on her clit, she closed her eyes and sighed, so deeply. The Doctor sucked on her neck as he rubbed and flicked at her pleasure spot, and she half-moaned, half-yelled, "mmmahh!" She kept touching him as well, stroking him faster and faster as her own intense pleasure sped up her hand. The Doctor kissed and licked down her body – her shoulder, her collarbone – he lingered at her breasts, once again flicking his tongue on her nipples as he caressed her mounds, making her gasp in ecstasy.

He continued down, breaking her contact with his hard-on – he just couldn't take it anymore, didn't want to finish yet, wanted this to last as long as it possibly could. He kissed down her stomach, flatter than it used to be, and he roughly pulled down her pants and her underwear and flung them across the room.

Positioning himself above her, with his face confronting her throbbing, wet cunt, he murmured appreciatively, "Oh, Rose Tyler, you are beautiful," and he lightly kissed the spot he'd just been rubbing. "Mm, mmmmmm," was her reaction. The Doctor explored, separating her lips and licking in between, teasing her by breaking to kiss the sensitive inner part of her thigh, before returning in earnest to pleasuring her with his tongue. He flicked her clit lightly at first, then ran his tongue in circles around it, slowly at first and then faster. Rose didn't know if he'd done anything like this before – if he had, presumably it had been a long time, a few hundred years at least – but he seemed to know, just by instinct, or just through his own desire to know her body, exactly what to do.

Rose felt herself close to the edge, but she did not want to come yet – she wanted to save that, wanted it to happen together, when they were as close as they could possibly be. She pulled him up to her face and kissed him, tasting, even licking her own juices off his face and mouth – she always liked her own taste. She reached down to touch his cock and position it between her legs. She let the tip brush past her entry, where she was dripping from desire. She then tilted it forward to rub the tip against her clit, sliding her twat wetly up and down his length and squeezing and stroking it with her hand.

The Doctor's eyes rolled back in his head as his eyelids closed, and he grunted, low and gruff, "you feel so good… mmuh so warm…" Rose could feel him breathing heavily, his one heart racing – this must be so much for a new body to take in. She paused and he looked at her, placing one hand on the side of her face. They just stopped, and he looked into her eyes, lovingly, and smiled, oh, so beautifully. She smiled too and bit her lower lip, so unbelievably happy, still so amazed, in disbelief almost, that her Doctor (well, close enough) was in her bed, was holding her, in a way she never thought he would.

"Gimme that," he said of the lower lip caught in her teeth, and he kissed that lip, sucked on it, nibbled it, catching it between his own teeth. Rose giggled a little. She responded, reaching her tongue out to run along his lips, to enter his mouth and explore it, to deepen the kiss. She felt the Doctor's cock throb, parting her lower lips, pausing at her gate.

They stopped to look at each other again, the Doctor looking into her eyes as if to ask, "ready?" She stared back and nodded imperceptively. She took a deep breath, and they kept eye contact, wanting to observe each other's reactions, and the Doctor slowly pushed inside her, just the tip at first, wanting to savor that initial entry. He groaned a little, then slid, inch by inch, deeper in. With a last and slightly quicker thrust, the Doctor pushed all the way inside her, and they both gasped as he reached her depths. They clasped each other close, just pausing there, breathing heavily into each other's ears, holding each other as they delighted in that most sublime of moments. The Doctor lifted his torso a little, propping himself on his arms, on either side of Rose's head. He looked down at her as he withdrew his cock a little to thrust back in again. First the thrusts were slow and deliberate, slower than their breaths, both Rose and the Doctor gasping and groaning just a little with each one.

Rose reached her hand up to the Doctor's face, to his hair, to his chest. She teared up just a little, from happiness, from being overwhelmed with love, and she said, like she did the first, awful time at Bad Wolf Bay, "I love you." "And I love you, Rose Tyler," the Doctor said, just as earnestly, deliberately, knowing how much the words meant finally coming from his lips. They kissed, sweetly but passionately, and the Doctor, giving in to their bodies' urgent desires, began thrusting faster.

As they pushed into each other, faster and faster, they clung to each other, frantically caressing and kissing and biting each other's shoulders, necks, ears, and lips. Their speed was starting to reach a fever pitch, and neither wanting their pleasure to end so soon, they paused and repositioned themselves. They sat up, Rose straddling the Doctor's lap, keeping him inside her, going even deeper. His hands splayed on her back, he supported her and pressed their torsos together as they moved up and down in sync. Rose threw her head back, blond hair flying, and the Doctor sucked on her clavicle, moving down to kiss and lick her breasts.

This continued until their bodies reached a mutual understanding, and without saying a word, they both knew the other was close to climaxing. They lay back down, on their sides, her legs wrapped around him so he could continue to fuck her, neither on top, both equals in pleasure. They kissed sweetly, and then the Doctor increased his speed again, thrusting, over and over, continually accelerating, both of them panting. Rose's eyes closed as they began to shout with pleasure. "Rose, look at me!" the Doctor shouted, and as she opened her eyes and met his, they both were pushed over the edge. The Doctor thrust, as deep as he could, three or four last times, and with each one he spasmed, gasping, shooting off inside of her, as she screamed "Doctor!" scratching his back, her body wracked with overbearing pulses of orgasm that made her quiver.

The Doctor collapsed on top of her, shuddering several times. Eyes closed, he buried his nose in her hair, taking in her scent as he recovered from his almost unbearably powerful climax. She cradled his head with her hand, nurturingly, helping him recover while she herself closed her eyes tightly, smiling in postcoital ecstasy.

"That was… that was…" the Doctor panted, almost upset by this forceful new experience. "Sshhh…" Rose whispered, comfortingly, stroking his hair and scalp with her fingertips. Eyes still closed, he smiled widely, knowing how perfectly well she understood how he felt. He started to laugh, and she joined him, their uncontrollable happiness and surprise at their sexual chemistry bubbling up.

In this elated, sleepy post-orgasmic state, Rose rolled to her side to face the edge of the bed, and the Doctor positioned himself behind her, his arm around her, spooning her contentedly, planting light kisses on her neck. They were hot and sweaty and smelled of sex but they didn't care. Almost simultaneously, they both breathlessly whispered, "thank you," and then lightly laughed and smiled, eyes still closed from exhaustion. The Doctor reached down for the sheet and pulled it up to tuck them in. He was overwhelmed by the desire to sleep – a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time (Time Lords only needed an hour here or there). Mostly, he wanted to replay the events of the evening in his mind, over and over, until he fell asleep, so that he could continue to dream of them, so that he could have Rose with him even as he slept. He knew he would not, for the life of him, let her go – he wanted to be touching her, to have constant contact, all night long. Rose was sound asleep almost instantly, and the Doctor stayed up as long as he could, listening to her breathing, before succumbing himself.

Rose awoke with a start, to an empty bed next to her and the clattering of pots and pans. Pots and pans? Promptly the Doctor, the source of the commotion, started talking a mile a minute, while Rose, naked and groggy, wrapped a sheet around herself, and stood watching him dash about the kitchen.

"Oh, awake now, sleepy head? I woke up and was absolutely craving eggs! Such a human feeling, craving. Well, I don't need to tell you about that." He winked at her. "Must be all the energy expended last night, need protein. Well, I had to borrow the eggs from your parents. And the butter, and the frying pan, and the toast and the jam – not very well stocked were you? You know, what I wanted straight away? Eggs a la Darlween. Remember them? You liked them. Of course, we'll have to substitute butter for the stomach jelly of the gizza bird…"

"Don't do that," Rose said.

The Doctor stopped, startled. "No, it'll be fine. Might be kinda nice without that pungent after-taste…"

"No, she said, and struggled to find the words. "Don't… don't ever, EVER, let me wake up alone in bed again."

Doctor smiled a big, manic grin, with happy, hungry eyes.

"Oh, Rose Tyler, you've got it." And, forgetting all about eggs, he swept her up in his arms, sheet and all, and shouting "Hee-ya!" he carried her, giggling wildly, back to the bed.