Disclaimer: I'm just playing in the blue box. I own nothing.

AN: Welcome to Coffee Stains and Growing Pains. I felt like writing something a little light-hearted and so here it is. I really hope you enjoy this. Hasn't been beta'd.

Coffee Stains and Growing Pains

The Meta-Crisis, Johnny, is trying to deal with being human and Rose just wants her coffee machine to stop asking 'where's Daddy?' a story about growing up, kicking alien ass and in-laws.


Prologue:

Officially – for the record this is – his name is Doctor John Noble. A well respected graduate from Cambridge with doctorates in Chemistry, Physics and History. He was born in Gallifrey, Ireland (Rose and his own little joke) and moved to Scotland when he was two months old before moving to Hampshire in England when he was three for four years before he travelled the world with his parents – only settling in London at the age of thirty-one. He was smart, well-travelled, and was the life of the party, the current beau of the Vitex heiress, Rose Tyler.

Unofficially to everyone at Torchwood and in the Tyler residence he was Johnny. Johnny was their care-free, slightly insane co-worker with stars in his eyes and manic power in his fingers. He had wild ginger hair and a wicked smile and when he wears his skinny jeans with his ear-piercing (Rose never quite forgave him for that) they can't call him the Doctor while keeping a straight face.

He was the Doctor, they all know this. He can still pull out all the stops, still save the world and go toe to toe with the best of them and when on a mission he is the unquestioned leader – 'The Doctor' in every sense of the title. To Rose, he is this always. He's the lonely god, an eccentric nine hundred year old alien with the weight of reality, time, space on his shoulders, and not some trickster who hacked the Torchwood network on his birthday demanding some banana cake.

He claimed it wasn't him and they all knew he was lying.

It was because of those moments, those moments where they couldn't really see the Time Lord (hybrid, as it were) as he had been in his home universe, shooting across the stars in a blue box that they tended to forget he was more than a man. He was alien: bizarre and wild, only with them because he destroyed an entire race. But to them they saw little bit crazy, brave, banana loving Johnny.

This was Doctor Johnny Noble: the lonely imp with his wolf, Rose.

This is his story.


Chapter One: Domestics

"Doctor?"

She poked him but he didn't stir.

"Doctor?"

He mumbled something into his pillow, pulling it closer to him and continued to sleep.

"Doctor?" she said, louder this time.

That got no response, as he murmured into his pillow about needing sleep. She bit her lip, watching her half-naked boyfriend twisted up in sheets and to the kitchen which she could just see. She sighed, giving him a decent shove with all her might. He rolled over, still holding his pillow and grunted.

"Fuck, Rose," he said, eyes cracking open and staggering to adjust to the light. He peeked up at her, eyes red from lack of sleep (probably from staying up late and experimenting with things that should not be experimented with) and glared. "What was that about?"

She crossed her arms. "You know very well,"

"No, I don't,"

He attempted to settle back into sleep but she reached down and tore the pillow from his grasp, dropping it to the floor. He growled at her, sitting up and made an attempt to reach over to pull her down when a powerful yawn took control of him. Suddenly he was stretching out like a cat. His bitch face tried to remain intact as he yawned with hilarious results. He looked like her neighbour's obese cat from the other universe when he wanted fish sticks and started yowling. Rose struggled not to laugh.

It was fairly hard, especially when he returned to his original pout and looked like a little boy who wanted candy. He glared at Rose. He wasn't a morning person. He was the precise opposite of a morning person … well unless he happened to wake up with her naked beside him – also naked but with a wicked grin on his handsome face.

But this morning, he was not in one such mood.

Stupid impossible bi-polar Time Lord hybrid, she thought to herself.

He stifled another yawns. "Okay … Rose – what have I done this time?"

Why did he sound like a bloody teenager? Combined with the pouting Rose was tempted to send him off to boarding school to learn some manners – she had the money. That was one benefit of living in Pete's world – she had the money to do a lot of things.

"You don't know?" she snapped.

"Clearly," he said.

"Nothing?" she said and at his continuous stony expression, elaborated, "Nothing at all? Know nothing about a toaster walking around like a mini-Transformer and cramming itself with bananas and bread and then when it fails throwing it all around the kitchen? Nothing like that? Nothing at all? Because you wouldn't have had anything to do with that, yeah?"

The Doctor throughout this had grown steadily pale and at unease as she spoke, glancing through the bedroom door to the kitchen down the hall. He started to fiddle with his PJ buttons, looking very uncomfortable. The moody teenager dropped and was replaced by puppy dog eyes, pleading for innocence as the little boy in him turned into the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Well … you see … I might … um … would you, by chance, forgive me if I said I was making that banana bread for you?"

She had to turn away, a smile threatening to break out - which she knew would just boost his ego.

"Just go fix it," she said.

"Yes, m'am,"

She could hear the smile in his voice. He could read her far too well – god damn mind-reading impossible hybrids.

Rose didn't give in and face him though. She remained staring at the window, pretending to be interested in the cranes that were constructing yet another apartment block across the road as he moved from the bed. Give him the cold shoulder and make it clear that his messing with her kitchen appliances was not acceptable. Bad Doctor.

He slid behind her, his hand brushing against her lower back – cheeky bastard – and she fought the tingle that shot up her spin.

"Oh … and Rose?" he said as he reached the door, looking back at her.

"What?" she spat back, still staring out the window and trying to focus on the hot tradesmen in the distance, when she would rather turn and stare at her half-naked boyfriend.

"I just wanted to say –" in one fluid movement his hand caught her wrist and the Doctor spun her into him, pressing his forehead against hers. She gazed into those dark brown eyes and his lips captured her, moving against her, teasing, testing and she surged forward, caught in … there like that … why … she couldn't see, eyes shut tight as he kissed her senseless.

This was … she opened and his tongue slipped in, gently moving in her mouth, no aggression just a manipulation that sent her toes curling. God, this was … his hand created slow circles against her ass before clenching it for a second. There was a rhythm to this and she let him run the show as he took her around the galaxy, his thoughts moulding with hers. Kissing the Doctor was different to normal kisses: it was fire and ice raging at each other, a supernova exploding and summer rain on a windy beach.

This was … she couldn't think and that's when he broke, breathing a little heavy while she tried to get much needed oxygen into her brain. Only with an impossible man could she forget about breathing – it was something out of cheap romance novel playing right out before her. She didn't get how he did it, but when she kissed him she was taken away to the stars, hurtled through time and then brought back with a jolt.

"Rose," he breathed, "I am so so sorry, so sorry," he paused and silence encased them save for the sounds of construction outside and their hearts racing together, "For messing with the toaster,"

She stared into those eyes that stole her soul. "You know … that really loses its affect when you are apologising for destroying my toaster and not because you are telling me to run for my life,"

He chuckled and kissed her on her forehead. "I love you, Rose Tyler,"

The moment he was gone to fix her toaster (she prayed), she collapsed on their bed wondering what she had done to be deserve him.


AN: Any thoughts: good, bad, inbetween, are very much appreciated!