Fireworks and Justification

I'm sorry, I know this kind of thing has been done before, but I wanted to write this anyway (and really- can it be done enough? I don't think so :P) … New Year's Eve. Possessive Doctor… I think that's about it! Set whenever you see fit :)

I don't own Doctor Who.


He snapped that night.

Snapped like an old brittle elastic band stretched and aimed as a weapon, but failing to hit its target, or else requiring a less painful way of achieving the same objective.


It was probably the fact that Jack had been pouring some strange alien powder into his drink, that meant the countless glasses of champagne he had consumed, under the assumed knowledge that his superior Time Lord biology would effectively overcome the effects of alcohol, actually began to lower those fiercely fortified inhibitions, began to reveal his previously hidden longing glances across the room to his much more socially adept companion.

Or maybe it was just the alluring cut of the purple dress, the way it clung to her almost intimately, and revealed tantalising glimpses of creamy skin he longed to sweep his tongue over, to taste her salty skin and gather definitive evidence from the flavour of her as to her reciprocation of such unspoken desires.

It was New Year's eve, and Rose had managed to convince him that rather than spending the night on the planet Gefitiran, watching the magnificent natural luminescence display of the algae that inhabited its barren plains, they should instead attend the party her mum had been talking about for months (relatively) in their weekly (relatively) phone conversations.

She had persuaded him, obviously, with the promise that he could wear his normal pinstriped suit, and that he didn't really have to talk to anyone, just smile and try not to inflict physics or natural history onto unsuspecting guests.

She had also mentioned the fact that she was taking a banana cake, as her contribtion to the catering, and although he had already set the coordinates about half an hour before the first act of two of her persuasion, he made a big show of reluctance and eventual agreement, when she finally offered to make another one for them to have to themselves on returning to the TARDIS after the party.

Jack had been there, when the TARDIS landed a little off course (which was obviously not his fault at all), and they had all had to evacuate a shopping mall and stop an alien species setting up a breeding factory in Primark, and afterwards, over a cup of tea, Rose had invited him to the party as well.

Jack was standing expectantly beside the Doctor, as he tried, for the millionth time, to resist the temptation to march over to Rose and demand that she only pay attention to him and not to any of the random pretty boys, because wasn't he brilliant? And didn't she want to go somewhere and see something with him?

He didn't like sharing Rose like this.

"So, Doc, do you want to kiss me at midnight?"

"What? No!"

"Alright, alright!" Jack laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, "I didn't think you would… but at least it got your attention- the world could have been ending behind you and you wouldn't have stopped staring at her!"

"Do you think he looks suspicious?" The Doctor asked, not paying attention. "He keeps smiling and trying to touch her arm."


"The one in that awful grey-blue suit and terrible tie."

"The one talking to Rose," Jack realised.

The Doctor harrumphed, and finished another champagne.

"He'll probably want to kiss her at midnight," Jack informed him, off-handedly. "If he can keep warding off that blonde guy with the limp."

"And why would he want to do that?" The Doctor asked, irritably.

Jack considered the question for a few moments. "Nobody wants to be alone," he said quietly.

The Doctor said nothing, imagining or otherwise, the quick glance Rose sent his way as he continued his critical appraisal of the company she was in.

"Do you still not want me to kiss you at midnight?" Jack asked, his tone light and teasing once more, "Look, I'll go and get you another drink, and you can have a quick think about that- make it quick though, we've only got another 5 minutes left of this year."

"Relatively," the Doctor shot back, but Jack just raised his eyebrows and took his glass.

He pouted, and scowled at the back of the guy with the horrible suit, who was now obscuring his rather lovely view of Rose leaning somewhat seductively against the doorframe.

He looked around for Jack, but quickly saw that he had been abandoned as the Captain had now adorned his most charming smile and had sidled up to a group of girls congregating around the chocolate fountain.

He scowled again, running his hands through his hair, feeling a strange bubbling of anger and invincibility as the man with such a poor choice in ties reached out to touch Rose's arm again.

There were 4 minutes until midnight, and the Doctor had decided that Rose wasn't going to kiss anyone, and that he had to stop her doing so, and that it had to be now, he was running out of time.

He strode purposefully over in her direction, winding through the chattering guests, jaw set and eyes hardened with determination.

"Doctor! Hi! Here, this is John, John… Smith was it?"

The Doctor fumed. What stupid fool with a ridiculous dress sense was called John Smith of all names?

"Smythe, actually," the man smoothly corrected, sidling closer to Rose as he reached out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Rose mentioned you travelled with her, or something?"

He narrowed his eyes and regarded the outstretched olive branch with obvious suspicion.

"I have to talk to Rose," he said sharply, trying not to meet Rose's doe eyes filled with questions and surprise.

"She's right here," Rose said, a little coldly, and he turned at that, eyes pleading and fighting his whole bodily urge to reach out and grab her and not let go, the toddler in the playground who fiercely protects his favourite things, swiping at anyone who wanted to share.

Her voice softened. "Are you alright? Where's Jack got to? I asked him to keep you company, told him this wasn't your kind of thing."

"I don't know," he said shortly, "Probably trying to find out his next victim or victims for whatever 51st century dance moves he's learnt recently."

John cleared his throat, but neither of them turned to him.

"Your pupils are a bit wild," she commented, taking a step towards him, which was incidentally a step away from nasty-suit, he noted joyfully. "How much have you had to drink?"

"There's three minutes to midnight," John, piped up, helpfully.

"I don't know," the Doctor replied, distracted by curve of Rose's collar bone.

"Maybe you should get some fresh air," she suggested, "I can come out and find you once the fireworks have finished if you want."

"We should move to get a good view of the tv for the fireworks," John said, "Rose," he added, as though it wasn't clear that he was unhappy about the Doctor's presence taking the attention away from him.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," the Doctor said hastily.

"Who is this guy?" John questioned, trying desperately to regain the position he had thought himself in a few moments ago.

"Have you decided yet?"

The three spun round to find Jack grinning at them, eyes sparkling.

"Have you decided what?" Rose asked, warily.

"If he's going to kiss me in a minute," Jack replied cheerily.

"If you're kissing the Doctor," Rose said slowly, "Who's going to kiss me?"

"I will," John proposed.

"No you will not," the Doctor said fiercely, making a face when Jack snorted with laughter.

"I'll kiss both of you," Jack offered, and at that Rose laughed too, and the Doctor was under the distinct impression that they were laughing at him, and his expression of disgust that he seemed to have little control over.

"1 minute!" Somebody yelled.

"Oh jeez you two," Jack whined, "if neither of you are going to kiss me, at least kiss each other, because I am this close…"

"He would never do that Jack," Rose said bitterly, from beside him, "He's much too 'high and mighty Time Lord' who seems to enjoy wallowing in his own loneliness so much that he has to drag everyone else in with him…"

He cast his eyes to the floor, wishing he could clear his cloudy head to be able to think of something big and clever to say.

There was a tense silence.

"I'm going to get some air," Rose said suddenly.

The Doctor stumbled after her, 10…

She only reached the kitchen, kicking her favourite heels into the line of empty bottles beside the table and grabbing the vodka from the table. 9…

"Rose, Rose- wait!" 8...7…

"What for? For 5 and a half hours? For 5 and a half lifetimes? Because I only have 1- remember?"


He snapped.

He snapped like he'd snapped so many times before, only this time, she was right there in front of him, and he couldn't just turn away and go and tinker with the console, it was midnight, and everyone was cheering in the next room, and kissing and ooh and ahhing at the fireworks on the millennium wheel.

He fell forward, aiming for her lips but missing completely in his haste, kissing somewhere nearer her ear and mumbling her name against her skin.

She dropped the half full bottle of vodka, backing away from him, bracing her hands on the kitchen worktop and the table, the bottles on the latter shaking and clinking as she did so.

He could hear his heart beats racing.


"No," she gritted out, "No, you don't get to feel sorry for me as well… feeling sorry for yourself is a fulltime job, I geddit yeah?"


"Listen to them," she demanded, her face blank of emotion and her eyes darting about almost furtively. "Listen to everyone enjoying themselves about… about time passing... You'd think, for one night, I could do that too right? Just be normal and think it's great that it's another year, not keep worryin' 'bout dying and you…"

"Can we try this again?"

She scoffed. "What- go back in time and do it better next time… maybe I'll even get to watch the fireworks next time."

"That idiot in that… ludicrous suit was going to kiss you," the Doctor reminded her.

"Why?" Rose questioned, "You mean why don't you? Why do humans feel the need to show emotion and need closeness? Well, maybe you should be asking yourself why Time Lords don't, seein' as you're the one outnumbered here."

His heart beat wouldn't slow, his breathing couldn't keep up.

"No Rose!" He said abruptly, crisply even, "Why would you rather he kissed you than me? Why won't you just stand still and let me love you rather than insisting on keeping wandering off!"

His words settled like feathers floating to the ground, and his fists clenched and unclenched.

"What did you say?"

He swallowed, his throat rough and scratchy. "Happy New Year," he muttered.

"Doctor," she said, her voice a tone she would use on dangerous aliens, the Rose Tyler who would take no prisoners, a Rose Tyler who would defend the Earth and every other innocent planet. "What did you say?"

He rubbed his face with one hand. "Rule number 1," he said slowly, "Don't wander off."

"I'm not moving," she said, pointedly, "I'm standing right here."

"I know what you're like," he shot back, "If I blink you'll be off again, always running you are, always running away from me."

"No," she said quickly, "Mostly running with you, running away from the aliens."

He paused. "Maybe so," he said lowly, "But never running towards me."

"10," she whispered, barely audibly, and he glanced up, eyebrows raised.

"9," she said, "8…"

He met her eyes, burning through them to the twisting gold of Time. "7."

She smiled, lips curling up and the radiance of her beauty dawning on her features. "6… 5… 4…"

He jumped forward, and she stayed true to her word, muscles twitching with the need to stand upright more comfortably, but fighting to stay absolutely still, eyes trained on him, echoing the climax of his countdown.


His aim was accurate this time, mouth ghosting each eyelid in turn, her mouth opening and closing in unison with his, arms nearly violently shaking now, gasping as he finally closed his lips around hers, her exhale becoming his inhale, before he tasted her open mouth with his tongue, gently, so tentatively.

He caught her before she fell, but really she had already fallen, and she fisted the material of his jacket for balance, instinct taking over as she lost coherent thought and sensibilities beyond the effortless way their mouths moulded together.

He tasted of champagne, surrounded her with the possibility of Time, and ran with her through lust and tradition to love and definitive need.

She reached up to his hair, his thick brilliant hair, twisting her fingers in it, pulling his lips to stay locked with hers.

He spun her round, crashing her body against the wall, hands everywhere on her body, yearning for less space between them, daring all of Space for this single desire to be denied.

He was no Superman, but she was surely his kryptonite, his weakness but yet also his only strength, for his belief in her bordered on worship for the human girl that made him so less alien.

Evidently, he had chosen the right way to show her, for he had never fully understood until now all the fuss and happiness associated with the human expression in the form of, what he had formerly thought of as, a needless sharing of saliva.

His tongue sought hers as his body pushed flush against hers, thigh nudging between her legs, his moan or hers caught in the air as her pathetic human lungs succumbed to their need for oxygen.

"I love you too," she hummed, and he blinked away the moisture in his eyes and revelled in the soft skin of her neck, and the rising of her chest as she caught her breath, before returning his attention to her parted lips with enthusiasm.

The fireworks continued in the background, the bangs faintly audible above the buzz of chatter from next door, but the last of the Time Lords could only hear Rose's faint 'Happy New Year', against his lips.

He had already formulated the plan to visit New Year's Eve in every time zone in every universe, but the way Rose kissed him back with a fervent hunger that he felt for her in every fibre of his being, he wasn't sure they needed such justification in the future.

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