Captives' Excuses

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the BBC's Doctor Who.

AN: So this is the third part. I found it hard to decide when to end this, and I'm still not sure if I want to end it here or not, but I thought I'd better publish this anyway, seeing as I've been staring at it for a few days now!

Thanks for the reviews , they are very much appreciated :)


Part 3

"So I have a plan," the Doctor says lowly, his voice thick and unsteady.

Rose can only make an attempt at a sound of interest.

It comes out as more of a grunt.

"Do you think you can, erm, slide down me… and, er… get my sonic screwdriver out of my pocket with your teeth?"

Rose's eyes snap open. "It's your sonic screwdriver?" Yet, when she rubs her thigh against him a little, he gasps and rolls her name on his tongue.

"Nope…nuh… Rose…It's in my pocket," he manages, through gritted teeth, "Left pocket."

Rose considers the forcefield pushing against her in one direction, and the Doctor's humming, wanting body in the other.

"The forcefield doesn't react below your knees," he continues, "try leaning all you weight on me and… er, easing down onto your knees..."

He breaks off and mutters harshly something about Jack Harkness in a bikini, or at least that's what Rose thinks he's muttering about.

"I hardly think it's going to help matters," Rose stage-whispers back, "If I rub my body down against you."

"Have you got any better ideas?"

"Most of my ideas at the moment are involving both of us naked in the TARDIS," Rose hisses, and there's a flash of dark longing in his eyes.

For a second Rose pauses, because he's the last of the Time Lords, and although he may have power over all of Time and Space, she has power over him. She thinks she should probably be scared of that, but with his gaze of absolute adoration shining through lust, she knows she isn't.

"Well let's just try my idea first… and then… then how about we try some of your plans," he suggests, weakly.

"That… that works," Rose whispers hoarsely.

He nods, and bites his bottom lip, hard, when she starts sliding, and oh, this is very much like his own Naked TARDIS Plan number 8 (not the TARDIS being naked, obviously, but him and Rose being oh so naked in the TARDIS).

He tries not to think about it too much, tries to concentrate on calculating the best angles for directing the sonic screwdriver for maximum effect.

Unfortunately, this only leads to calculations of best angles for something quite different, and out of the corner of his eye, he distracts himself by noticing the intruder engrossed in staring at some sort of computer monitor

Rose squirms awkwardly against the Doctor, her arms inconveniently positioned for such a task, and her mind traitorously one-tracked.

She somehow manages to coax the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, and as she straightened up, the Doctor suppresses his need to groan out loud, by clamping his teeth adjacent to where Rose so sinfully holds the column in her mouth.

"I'll do the directing," he says, surprisingly intelligibly for having his mouth otherwise occupied, "if you can just… twist it."

"Aaa-cooorrr- wii or cooorrr wii?"

He considers this for a moment. "Anticlockwise," then adds, as an afterthought. "As soon as it starts pulsing, you'll need to swallow."

She wonders whether he's talking in a low rumbling voice that vibrates over her sensitive skin so deliciously on purpose. She also wonders whether he realises that his escape plan is just one long, drawn out innuendo, but decides that she doesn't really care, not when she twists and swallows as directed.

The swallowing reduces the shock of the sudden change in pressure from the sonic pulse and the forcefield shattering around them, and the shackles on their wrists, evidently governed by the same force, fall with a clatter to the floor.

There's a slow motion moment, where she's not able to yet convince herself that they are really free, until the Doctor's hand finds hers, and with a look daring her to disagree, he whispers, conspiratorily to her, dropping his screwdriver into his pocket with his free hand.

"Rose Tyler, I do believe you have a follow up plan."

The shouts behind them, and the ear-splitting siren that has begun to sound barely register in her periphery.


They're running, they're always running, but they've never really ran with such potent urgency before, and the Doctor thinks, fleetingly, that he may be shaving seconds off their escape with the knowledge that nakedness in the TARDIS awaits them.

He's pretty sure that's the least important advantage, and he's gripping her hand even tighter and already picturing various scenarios to play out. All of which involve a lot more than just a victory/escape/saved the world hug.

Hugging, he decides, is decidedly overrated, when he is in possession of a body that is designed fundamentally with the architecture of a human being, and which has such a potent hunger for his beautiful human companion.

(It's really just a simple formula, with one, rather favourable, outcome).

… a beautiful human who decides to interrupt his (decidedly magnificent) plan to grab her face and kiss her hard, pressing two fingers across his lips and sliding out from where he has her caged against the inside of the door of the TARDIS.

Oh no no. This is not how it works.

Well, not that he has any authority over how… how it works, but… well… he's seen pictures.

He pointedly takes off his jacket and shoes, dropping them purposefully onto the floor.

He thinks about what she said earlier.

"Are you aroused?" he asks, casually, then when she makes a face, hurriedly explains, "I can't lick you from all the way over here."

She doesn't seem to pick up on his hint, just raises her eyebrows, and he's busy trying to think of ways he can re-establish the situation he has somehow been removed from, aspects of which involve more being tied up together.

He's pretty sure if he gets them arrested on Thafeeeein, they can be tied up together and he can try and follow through more successfully.

"Doctor," Rose repeats, loudly.

He turns to her, his 'not now Rose, I'm trying to think of another planet to take you to that will ultimately lead smoothly and subtly to seduction' face in place, which is rapidly forgotten as he casts his eyes over her decidedly naked form.

He breathes.

Oh she's perfect. No, she's… better than perfect, and he's suddenly incapable of doing anything remotely intelligent, except stand there and stare at her, jaw slack and eyes burning.

(He defends his position as a being of highest intelligence, in that no Time Lord before him has ever been faced with Rose Tyler. Naked).

He swallows scratchily, and she huffs slightly, but with an edge of gratitude to his reaction.

He's still barely able to move, when she approaches him slowly, her hips swinging, and she takes his hands, which are uselessly hanging at his sides, and places them gently on her waist.

"I…er… wow… I … soft."

He peters off into a helpless murmuring of her name, pressing it against her lips and she melts against him because finally, it's just them and there's no aliens watching.

His kisses deepen, she loses track of her thoughts, track of time (even if it is relative), and cares about nothing more than the fact that forever is looking to include far fewer cold showers and batteries, and much more of this.

Her fingers work at his shirt buttons, and she wants to tell him how long she has wanted this, but she's not even sure. Maybe she's always wanted this, and not just since she's met him.

He's emboldened, by her light touches across his chest and arms as she tugs his shirt off. He's emboldened by her fervent return of his kisses, of her tongue battling hers.

She can't put into words how he tastes, it's dominated by just the feelings, of Time and Forever and No Longer Alone, and their lips give and take in flawless canon.

He steps back, fingers outstretched to her, hair in ridiculous dishevelment and barely dressed. She takes his hand, beaming at him, all red lips and teeth he's counted with his tongue.

And just why haven't they been doing this since the first time they had the excuse of being captives?

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