Fic: Halcyon and On and On (2/2)
Title: Halcyon and On and On
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Mickey
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The Doctor did nothing by halves.
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Bind Me, Or Undo Me which I left at a very teasing stopping point. ;) So here I (and the Doctor) try to make good on some promises. Set between GITF and ROTC.
Author's Notes #2: Many thanks to my spectacular beta, principia_coh for all her hard work. Dedicated to requialexa. Title is taken from the Orbital song of the same name.
(Part One)
Part Two
A day off, the Doctor had said. Rose had chosen the day’s destination (somewhere pretty was all she’d said) and so he, as the Doctor’s other companion, got to choose a film to watch that night in the comfy living room with an even bigger screen than the one the TARDIS had provided for his room.
Mickey wondered if the day off had been declared for his benefit, but he didn’t feel like he needed a holiday. He was loving all this adventure. Running from place to place, learning new things and saving lives-it was a good life, and he felt a bit of a git for being too scared to take the Doctor up on the offer the first time it had come around. Even if it was a little strange spending day in and day out with Rose again. Rose and him.
There was no question about it. Those two had been mooning all over each other lately. Rose had never told him how her talk had gone with the Doctor that first night he spent on the TARDIS. He’d seen her, though, when she came out of the study that night, not that she’d noticed him looking.
He’d just got up to hunt down the kitchen to get a glass of water in the middle of the night when he caught sight of her in the hallway, leaning against a door, clearly flustered, but also… pleased? No that wasn’t it exactly, but she seemed to have a sense of peace about her once she caught her breath and pushed away from the wall to head to her room.
He’d known Rose all her life, and he considered himself a bit of an expert on being able to judge her moods from afar. It was a handy warning system to have when you were boyfriend to an amazing girl who also just happened to be her temperamental mother’s daughter.
As he’d watched her walk away that night after they’d surely talked about Madame de Whatever, he’d wondered if she and the Doctor had…. Well, it seemed unlikely, but it’d be about time, wouldn’t it? Rose was so clearly in love with him-had been since he was all big-eared and broody. And the pretty boy obviously felt the same way about her. Though what he was doing swanning off with that French woman, when there must have been about a million other ways to go about saving her, Mickey wasn’t sure.
Now, examining his memories with Rose leaning up against him on the couch, legs stretched out and feet in the Doctor’s lap, he found, almost surprisingly, that he wasn’t really jealous. Not then, and not now. Oh, he loved Rose, always would. And he’d almost certainly go back with her if that was what she wanted. But if he was honest, they’d been over for ages. Since the first time she’d stepped in the TARDIS, really, but the last time in Cardiff with the old Doctor had been the nail in the coffin. He didn’t love feeling the odd man out in this tight-knit circle of experienced time-travellers, but he’d be seriously kidding himself to think Rose’s heart would ever be his again, if it ever really had been.
He worried, though, what the Doctor might do with it. She was a tough woman, no doubt about that, but she had a good heart that didn’t do too well with breaking. He’d been there to pick up the pieces for her before. He didn’t fancy having to do it again. This wouldn’t be like Jimmy Stone. When the Doctor trampled all over Rose’s heart, it might end up broken beyond repair.
She was so happy now, though. Barely paying attention to the movie he’d chosen. The Doctor, for his part, at least feigned interest in Bad Boys, commenting on how this or that explosion was physically impossible, while idly rubbing Rose’s bare feet, though they’d done no running today. But Rose was off somewhere in her head. Had been since they all sat down in the living room. She’d pass the popcorn as required and respond when he’d tout the brilliance of a gunfight scene, but if he had to guess, he’s say her mind was focused steadily on the skinny alien bloke across the couch.
There seemed to be unspoken communication floating between them every so often, and he wondered if maybe the Doctor really was in her head, speaking to her. But he figured he might have heard about that particular talent if it existed. As well as he knew Rose’s moods, he couldn’t tell much now besides that she was content and happy. And a bit like she had a secret, but that could just be her feeling relaxed and playful. Maybe he was losing his touch.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Rose announced, breaking his reverie. She stood up and stretched.
Mickey paused the movie. “Rose, there’s only 20 minutes left, you can hang out a bit longer.”
“Mickey, we know what happens. There’s a slow-motion chase, the good guys put all the pieces together and go catch the bad guys, guns a’blazin’ and more stuff blows up. I’ve seen this what? A dozen times? Besides, I’m tired.”
“From all that nothing that you did today?”
“Whatever. You two,” she waved her hand about vaguely, “do whatever it is blokes get up to when the girls leave the room.” She rubbed a hand affectionately over his close-cropped hair. “Goodnight. You too, Doctor.”
The Doctor gave her a little half-wave, half-salute thing, and indicated for Mickey to press play, apparently disinterested in her departure. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
In the past two hours, the Doctor seemed the most relaxed he’d ever seen him, apart from when he was suffering from regeneration sickness. And it wasn’t just lounging about that had him so calm. It was Rose. In a minute or two, he’d probably go fidgety and impatient, itching to go fix his ship, or whatever he did while he and Rose were sleeping.
“What?” the Doctor suddenly asked.
“What what?”
“Mickey, you’re practically thinking out loud. If you have something to say, out with it.”
“Can you do that, then? Read minds?”
“Of course not,” he said as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Then, sniffing, he completely changed his tone. “Well not how you mean, anyway. And I’d have to be touching you, quite intimately, which I’m not planning on doing any time soon. So no, I can’t read your mind. You just look like you’ve been having deep thoughts, and I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself on my watch. Anything wrong?”
He chose to disregard the insult for the time being. He wondered if he really should talk to the Doctor, have a man-to-man (or man-to-alien, whatever), set it out for him that if he hurt Rose he’d have Mickey Smith to deal with. But he had a good idea that the Doctor would just claim ignorance and innocence in all of it, say that the welfare of Rose’s heart was nothing to do with him.
So instead of bringing up a topic that would probably make them both squirm uncomfortably, he said, “I didn’t need a holiday, you know. I was doing just fine. I can keep up.”
The Doctor eyed him for a moment before speaking. “Good,” was all he said. Then he stretched his legs out on the table in front of him.
“Right. Just so we’re clear.”
“You going to be quiet so I can hear the rest of this?”
Mickey said nothing in response, but turned back to the telly. While they watched the rest of the film in companionable silence, he couldn’t help feeling he somehow had got his point across to the Doctor with that small exchange anyway. Much as he might dislike the arrogant alien sometimes, and as much as he still blamed him for stealing Rose away from him, Mickey felt that maybe he understood the Doctor just a little bit more after today.
He wasn’t sure how he’d come to the realization; maybe the Doctor could project his feelings with some of his alien mind voodoo, but Mickey was certain of at least one thing.
The Doctor needed Rose like other people needed air.
Mickey couldn’t and wouldn’t stand in the way of that. He wasn’t sure, though, that he could stand around and watch it either.
>>
After the film ended and Mickey had trotted off to bed, he gave it a few minutes, and then went to seek out Rose.
He had no illusions about why he was seeking her out. He didn’t even pretend to himself that it was for any reason other than to finish what they had started earlier today. It was bordering on a physical ache, this need to touch her. And while in the past a hand to hold had been enough for him, it wasn’t now. Passions long held in check had been awakened in him recently, and right now, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted them silenced again.
Still it was more than slightly odd, finding himself in front of his companion’s bedroom door late at night because he wanted to make love to her.
He allowed a series of niggling, lingering doubts to creep into him again, not the least of which was concern about whether Rose really wanted this from him right now. Then, trying to suppress them, he knocked on her door and entered at her soft call of welcome.
She was sitting at the edge of her bed reading a magazine, feet swinging idly.
“Took you long enough. I was about to go to sleep.”
He let his eyes rove over her form. She was still fully dressed, but for the shoes that never found their way back onto her feet post-cleanup after returning from Halcyon earlier in the day. She didn’t look like she had any intention of sleeping any time soon.
“Sorry. I could go if you want me to,” he said moving to stand in front of her, hoping that he was right in assuming she still had no intention of sleeping any time soon.
She tossed the magazine.
“Are you kidding?” She peered up at him and her dazzling little pink tongue made a teasing appearance at the corner of her mouth.
He desperately wanted to kiss her. And it still filled him with an inordinate thrill that he could. That he had and would again. He hadn’t lost her. Even though he’d pushed her from him, patently rejected her, left her-more than once-she hadn’t given up on him.
He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, and then slid to his knees before her, so he’d not be staring down at her.
“No,” he said. “I’m not kidding. If you’re not sure-”
She clapped a hand over his lips, stopping him. “Doctor, if I wasn’t sure, do you think I’d have let you touch me like you did today?”
He didn’t know what to say to that, and her words brought the memory of what they’d done there flooding back into him at full force, suffusing him with heat. He’d been trying in vain to think of anything but touching her so intimately since they’d left that lovely planet, knowing it’d be hours until he could again. Now they’d barely touched at all, and already his body was beginning to respond.
She slid her hand from his mouth to his hair and her other joined it there, running through it slowly. He closed his eyes and drank in the sensation.
“Rose,” he groaned, placing his hands on her denim-clad knees and slowly sliding them up her thighs. With her hands on him, and his on her, it was likely he’d quickly lose the ability to think rationally, but he had to say this now. Their time in the gardens had felt so surreal, like none of the concerns either of them had had mattered, like there were no consequences to actions. But being on the TARDIS made everything all the more real. Rose had said they were to go about this properly, the first time he’d kissed her, when he’d thought he’d been ready to have her right there in his study.
Opening his eyes, he studied hers intently as her hands stilled in his hair. She was clearly already powerfully aroused, but her eyes also showed a hint of worry. She had cause to doubt him, of course. He’d been terribly inconsistent with her in the past. He wanted her to know that he planned an end to all that, but that for all his youthful face belied it, he was old, and old habits died mightily hard with him.
He dipped his head and placed a kiss against her knee, damning the fabric still covering it. He wanted her skin beneath his lips again. “You said we were to take our time.”
He wasn’t expecting a giggle in response. “I think we’re a bit past that, now, don’t you think, Doctor? Another few minutes alone on that bouncy rock and you know as well as I do my knickers would have been off in the bushes somewhere.”
She was right, absolutely. He tried not to think of what would have happened had Mickey found them like that, instead of just a slightly flustered Rose.
“That was there, though,” he said to her thigh.
She lifted his head from her lap and eyed him, squinting like she was trying to figure him out. Then she spoke, her voice a slow, husky purr.
“And I’ve spent every second since we got back to the TARDIS desperate to get you alone again, to touch you.” She began undoing the top buttons of his shirt. “You telling me it wasn’t the same for you? Felt like it, eyes you were giving me while we were watching telly, the way your hands went up my legs when Mickey wasn’t looking. Am I wrong?”
She arrived at the limit of where her hands could reach with his buttons, so he stood before her again. He undid the rest and quickly discarded the garment and the undershirt beneath, then pulled her to her feet as well.
“Of course you’re not wrong.” He slid his arms about her and finally kissed her, loving both the taste of her mouth and the feel of so little separating her from his bare skin. Wanting even less between them, he broke the kiss and lifted the hem of her shirt. Obliging him, she lifted her arms so he could remove it from her entirely.
“You’re not wrong,” he repeated, leaning to kiss her near her collarbone. His hands found her back again and he revelled in the feel of her silky flesh beneath his fingers. “But I don’t want to muck this up,” he whispered against her.
Her hands came up between them, running lightly over his chest, and for a second he faltered in his task of kissing her skin, entranced by the new and marvellous sensation of her delicate touch.
“You won’t.”
“What?” He lifted his head.
“Muck it up. We won’t. ‘S you and me, Doctor.” She said it as if it were the simplest, most obvious thing in the world.
And maybe it was. If he was honest with himself, he knew his doubts and fears were almost nothing more than habitual. Rose is, was, and always would be worth any risk. And when risk taking felt this good, so right-more destined than inevitable, though he didn’t believe in destiny, really-well… his decision had been made a long time ago.
She gave him a dazzling smile that made his hearts clench and did similar things to his gut, above where her hands were still fluttering.
He kissed the smile from her and she responded hungrily, meeting his plunging tongue with her own, flattening her hand against his stomach as it got pressed between them. Then, after a moment, she used that hand to push him back a pace, breaking the kiss. He was about to question her actions when she moved both hands to the fastenings of his trousers.
* * *
Rose wanted to touch him as he had her. She wanted to see him lose control, to come undone, to come.
“I’ll be a lot more naked than you, then,” he challenged, his eyes sparkling at her.
She undid the clasp. “You’ve still got your trainers.”
He laughed and caught her hands in his. He kissed them lightly, toed off his shoes and reached behind her to undo her bra. She let him slide it down her shoulders, watched as his eyes took her in, but stopped him as he went to touch her.
“My turn, Doctor.”
“But-”
She undid his zip and slid her hand in to touch him directly, marvelling at rendering him temporarily speechless. She explored tentatively at first, watching his face as he grew even harder. His dark eyes met hers; he sucked in a quick breath through his slightly open mouth. Then she wrapped her hand around him firmly and stroked. His eyes slammed shut and his fists clenched then relaxed at his sides. She repeated the action twice more and he groaned and staggered a bit. She continued with a slow and steady rhythm, enthralled by the rapt pleasure on his face and the sound of his quick, short breaths.
Quite suddenly his eyes snapped open and his hand shot to her wrist stilling her movements.
“Rose,” he breathed out, his voice a low, silky timbre. “Stop.”
“Why?” she asked teasingly.
He gently pulled her hand away, then ran his hands down her arms slowly, causing her to shiver and refocus on her own body’s reaction. God she wanted him. She was practically shaking with it. The way he was looking at her didn’t help, and there were really far far too many clothes still between them. Still she tried to hold on to some measure of control.
“Because, Rose. First time in this body and all and-”
“Do you mean that you’ve never-”
“Not with this body, no.”
Well, that answered one of her remaining questions about what had or hadn’t happened while the Doctor was at Versailles. But she really didn’t want to think about another woman who might have loved the Doctor right now.
“And more importantly,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, “first time with you. It should be… with you.” His voice dropped low again as he reminded her of their conversation earlier. “That all right?”
“Um,” she said oh so eloquently. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
“Good.” He quickly shoved his trousers and pants past his hips and off, and then reached forward to undo her jeans.
She was momentarily transfixed by his completely nude form. Her eyes followed the lines and angles downwards, familiarizing herself with what she’d only touched thus far. When she reached his feet, she realized that her jeans were now pooled at her ankles. She looked up at him to find him beaming at her and a lovely sly smile at his lips.
He pointedly glanced at the bed.
She placed a hand on his chest and gave him a small shove so that he fell backwards onto it. He blinked up at her in surprise before she climbed atop of him and straddled his thighs. She rocked against him, their bodies still separated by the small piece of lace that was her knickers, and he groaned again.
She leaned down to kiss him and he devoured her mouth in response, messily kissing back, a hand clamped to the back of her head for a moment before he moved both of them down to her hips. His hands slipped beneath her knickers to cover her bum and he pulled her against him. He hit just the right spot and she gasped, breaking their kiss.
Oh she had wanted to tease him, to get him as worked up and over as she’d been in that Eden. But she was beyond waiting any longer, and he did seem about ready to burst as it was-his hands clenched on her arse, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
She placed a small, almost chaste kiss on his chest and then shimmied out of his grasp. He whimpered and opened his eyes as she rolled off of him and onto her back.
“Rose?”
“Knickers,” she gasped out, reaching down and practically flinging the offending garment off of her and quickly clambering back on top of the Doctor. An instant later he rolled them and she found herself on her back again, looking up at him.
They were both panting for breath, but save that they were so very still. It suddenly felt a bit like everything was in slow motion. His eyes bore into her, she felt his hand beneath her knee, shifting her so he could get into position between her thighs, then a hand come up and brush wayward strands of her hair out of her face. And then in one smooth stroke he was inside her and time sped up again.
Almost immediately they found a rhythm in their urgent movements. They were racing toward the finish, and that suited her just fine this time around. She had wanted to watch him, to concentrate on his face, but with what he was doing to her, it was difficult to concentrate on anything but the incredible sensations building inside of her. Because experienced or not, his body knew exactly what it was doing.
“Doctor?” she managed to breath out.
“Wha’?”
“How do you…” she trailed off into a moan, her eyes sliding shut. “You know just how to-” she cut herself off with a gasping squeak as he altered the angle and sped up the tempo setting off the first fine tremors within her. Another few thrusts and she came, it rolling through her like a thunderclap-rumbling, exploding, and receding only slowly.
She opened her eyes just in time to see him follow her. His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw taut, his whole lean body rigid and finely trembling after his final plunge into hers.
She ran a hand soothingly along his back as he gently let his weight settle upon her, his head pillowed on her breast. Bliss radiated through her whole body. She’d never felt quite so content. And just having had probably the best shag of her life was only part of that. It was amazing, physically, but what it meant for the two of them went far beyond that.
He rested there, still, until their heart rates approached normal, before shifting off of her. He propped himself on an elbow and peered down at her.
“So what do you think?” he asked, his voice still a bit gravelly.
“What?” Her eyes widened. He wasn’t asking for a… review, was he?
“Peanut butter and banana like I mentioned before? Toasted cheese? What do you fancy?”
“Doctor,” she groaned, “you are not going to make us sandwiches right now.”
“I’m not? Well, it doesn’t have to be sandwiches, I suppose.” He huffed when she gave him A Look. “Rose, sex is an unusual energy expenditure for Time Lords. Need to replenish with food.”
“Can’t you replenish with cuddles and sleep like everyone else?” Right now she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.
“Yes. Cuddles and sleep, preceded by nibbles.” He kissed her shoulder and slid out of bed, heading for the door.
“Well put something on at least!” She reached blindly next to the bed and tossed what she found at the Doctor, and then promptly dissolved into a fit of giggles when he put it on.
“What, I don’t look fetching in your dressing gown?”
>>
He didn’t care to guess at the picture he made, tiptoeing about the TARDIS in Rose’s fluffy pink robe which barely brushed the top of his knees, balancing two cups of tea and a plate of snacks. He didn’t relish the thought of having to make any awkward explanations either.
But thankfully, he arrived at Rose’s door again without incident. He quietly slipped into the bedroom, only to find her already curled up on her side, fast asleep.
He stood stock still for a moment, just observing her; carefully memorizing the contours of her face, softened by sleep.
All over, throughout space and time, people are wasting chances at happiness, he’d said to her. I don’t want to run out of time with you .
He hadn’t. He wouldn’t.
He set his burden carefully on the bedside table, shucked the cloth that covered him and climbed into bed beside his Rose.
He pulled her close, fitting his body to hers, revelling in her soft, sleepy noises of contentment. He briefly allowed himself to think of how his people would have frowned on such a thing, finding such joy in the close company of a lesser species from an insignificant planet. Would any of them understand now that she was the only thing that kept him from feeling truly, devastatingly, alone?
His people had been wrong about so many things. Maybe it was time one of them got it right.
FIN
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, Mickey
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The Doctor did nothing by halves.
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Bind Me, Or Undo Me which I left at a very teasing stopping point. ;) So here I (and the Doctor) try to make good on some promises. Set between GITF and ROTC.
Author's Notes #2: Many thanks to my spectacular beta, principia_coh for all her hard work. Dedicated to requialexa. Title is taken from the Orbital song of the same name.
(Part One)
Part Two
A day off, the Doctor had said. Rose had chosen the day’s destination (somewhere pretty was all she’d said) and so he, as the Doctor’s other companion, got to choose a film to watch that night in the comfy living room with an even bigger screen than the one the TARDIS had provided for his room.
Mickey wondered if the day off had been declared for his benefit, but he didn’t feel like he needed a holiday. He was loving all this adventure. Running from place to place, learning new things and saving lives-it was a good life, and he felt a bit of a git for being too scared to take the Doctor up on the offer the first time it had come around. Even if it was a little strange spending day in and day out with Rose again. Rose and him.
There was no question about it. Those two had been mooning all over each other lately. Rose had never told him how her talk had gone with the Doctor that first night he spent on the TARDIS. He’d seen her, though, when she came out of the study that night, not that she’d noticed him looking.
He’d just got up to hunt down the kitchen to get a glass of water in the middle of the night when he caught sight of her in the hallway, leaning against a door, clearly flustered, but also… pleased? No that wasn’t it exactly, but she seemed to have a sense of peace about her once she caught her breath and pushed away from the wall to head to her room.
He’d known Rose all her life, and he considered himself a bit of an expert on being able to judge her moods from afar. It was a handy warning system to have when you were boyfriend to an amazing girl who also just happened to be her temperamental mother’s daughter.
As he’d watched her walk away that night after they’d surely talked about Madame de Whatever, he’d wondered if she and the Doctor had…. Well, it seemed unlikely, but it’d be about time, wouldn’t it? Rose was so clearly in love with him-had been since he was all big-eared and broody. And the pretty boy obviously felt the same way about her. Though what he was doing swanning off with that French woman, when there must have been about a million other ways to go about saving her, Mickey wasn’t sure.
Now, examining his memories with Rose leaning up against him on the couch, legs stretched out and feet in the Doctor’s lap, he found, almost surprisingly, that he wasn’t really jealous. Not then, and not now. Oh, he loved Rose, always would. And he’d almost certainly go back with her if that was what she wanted. But if he was honest, they’d been over for ages. Since the first time she’d stepped in the TARDIS, really, but the last time in Cardiff with the old Doctor had been the nail in the coffin. He didn’t love feeling the odd man out in this tight-knit circle of experienced time-travellers, but he’d be seriously kidding himself to think Rose’s heart would ever be his again, if it ever really had been.
He worried, though, what the Doctor might do with it. She was a tough woman, no doubt about that, but she had a good heart that didn’t do too well with breaking. He’d been there to pick up the pieces for her before. He didn’t fancy having to do it again. This wouldn’t be like Jimmy Stone. When the Doctor trampled all over Rose’s heart, it might end up broken beyond repair.
She was so happy now, though. Barely paying attention to the movie he’d chosen. The Doctor, for his part, at least feigned interest in Bad Boys, commenting on how this or that explosion was physically impossible, while idly rubbing Rose’s bare feet, though they’d done no running today. But Rose was off somewhere in her head. Had been since they all sat down in the living room. She’d pass the popcorn as required and respond when he’d tout the brilliance of a gunfight scene, but if he had to guess, he’s say her mind was focused steadily on the skinny alien bloke across the couch.
There seemed to be unspoken communication floating between them every so often, and he wondered if maybe the Doctor really was in her head, speaking to her. But he figured he might have heard about that particular talent if it existed. As well as he knew Rose’s moods, he couldn’t tell much now besides that she was content and happy. And a bit like she had a secret, but that could just be her feeling relaxed and playful. Maybe he was losing his touch.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Rose announced, breaking his reverie. She stood up and stretched.
Mickey paused the movie. “Rose, there’s only 20 minutes left, you can hang out a bit longer.”
“Mickey, we know what happens. There’s a slow-motion chase, the good guys put all the pieces together and go catch the bad guys, guns a’blazin’ and more stuff blows up. I’ve seen this what? A dozen times? Besides, I’m tired.”
“From all that nothing that you did today?”
“Whatever. You two,” she waved her hand about vaguely, “do whatever it is blokes get up to when the girls leave the room.” She rubbed a hand affectionately over his close-cropped hair. “Goodnight. You too, Doctor.”
The Doctor gave her a little half-wave, half-salute thing, and indicated for Mickey to press play, apparently disinterested in her departure. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
In the past two hours, the Doctor seemed the most relaxed he’d ever seen him, apart from when he was suffering from regeneration sickness. And it wasn’t just lounging about that had him so calm. It was Rose. In a minute or two, he’d probably go fidgety and impatient, itching to go fix his ship, or whatever he did while he and Rose were sleeping.
“What?” the Doctor suddenly asked.
“What what?”
“Mickey, you’re practically thinking out loud. If you have something to say, out with it.”
“Can you do that, then? Read minds?”
“Of course not,” he said as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Then, sniffing, he completely changed his tone. “Well not how you mean, anyway. And I’d have to be touching you, quite intimately, which I’m not planning on doing any time soon. So no, I can’t read your mind. You just look like you’ve been having deep thoughts, and I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself on my watch. Anything wrong?”
He chose to disregard the insult for the time being. He wondered if he really should talk to the Doctor, have a man-to-man (or man-to-alien, whatever), set it out for him that if he hurt Rose he’d have Mickey Smith to deal with. But he had a good idea that the Doctor would just claim ignorance and innocence in all of it, say that the welfare of Rose’s heart was nothing to do with him.
So instead of bringing up a topic that would probably make them both squirm uncomfortably, he said, “I didn’t need a holiday, you know. I was doing just fine. I can keep up.”
The Doctor eyed him for a moment before speaking. “Good,” was all he said. Then he stretched his legs out on the table in front of him.
“Right. Just so we’re clear.”
“You going to be quiet so I can hear the rest of this?”
Mickey said nothing in response, but turned back to the telly. While they watched the rest of the film in companionable silence, he couldn’t help feeling he somehow had got his point across to the Doctor with that small exchange anyway. Much as he might dislike the arrogant alien sometimes, and as much as he still blamed him for stealing Rose away from him, Mickey felt that maybe he understood the Doctor just a little bit more after today.
He wasn’t sure how he’d come to the realization; maybe the Doctor could project his feelings with some of his alien mind voodoo, but Mickey was certain of at least one thing.
The Doctor needed Rose like other people needed air.
Mickey couldn’t and wouldn’t stand in the way of that. He wasn’t sure, though, that he could stand around and watch it either.
>>
After the film ended and Mickey had trotted off to bed, he gave it a few minutes, and then went to seek out Rose.
He had no illusions about why he was seeking her out. He didn’t even pretend to himself that it was for any reason other than to finish what they had started earlier today. It was bordering on a physical ache, this need to touch her. And while in the past a hand to hold had been enough for him, it wasn’t now. Passions long held in check had been awakened in him recently, and right now, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted them silenced again.
Still it was more than slightly odd, finding himself in front of his companion’s bedroom door late at night because he wanted to make love to her.
He allowed a series of niggling, lingering doubts to creep into him again, not the least of which was concern about whether Rose really wanted this from him right now. Then, trying to suppress them, he knocked on her door and entered at her soft call of welcome.
She was sitting at the edge of her bed reading a magazine, feet swinging idly.
“Took you long enough. I was about to go to sleep.”
He let his eyes rove over her form. She was still fully dressed, but for the shoes that never found their way back onto her feet post-cleanup after returning from Halcyon earlier in the day. She didn’t look like she had any intention of sleeping any time soon.
“Sorry. I could go if you want me to,” he said moving to stand in front of her, hoping that he was right in assuming she still had no intention of sleeping any time soon.
She tossed the magazine.
“Are you kidding?” She peered up at him and her dazzling little pink tongue made a teasing appearance at the corner of her mouth.
He desperately wanted to kiss her. And it still filled him with an inordinate thrill that he could. That he had and would again. He hadn’t lost her. Even though he’d pushed her from him, patently rejected her, left her-more than once-she hadn’t given up on him.
He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, and then slid to his knees before her, so he’d not be staring down at her.
“No,” he said. “I’m not kidding. If you’re not sure-”
She clapped a hand over his lips, stopping him. “Doctor, if I wasn’t sure, do you think I’d have let you touch me like you did today?”
He didn’t know what to say to that, and her words brought the memory of what they’d done there flooding back into him at full force, suffusing him with heat. He’d been trying in vain to think of anything but touching her so intimately since they’d left that lovely planet, knowing it’d be hours until he could again. Now they’d barely touched at all, and already his body was beginning to respond.
She slid her hand from his mouth to his hair and her other joined it there, running through it slowly. He closed his eyes and drank in the sensation.
“Rose,” he groaned, placing his hands on her denim-clad knees and slowly sliding them up her thighs. With her hands on him, and his on her, it was likely he’d quickly lose the ability to think rationally, but he had to say this now. Their time in the gardens had felt so surreal, like none of the concerns either of them had had mattered, like there were no consequences to actions. But being on the TARDIS made everything all the more real. Rose had said they were to go about this properly, the first time he’d kissed her, when he’d thought he’d been ready to have her right there in his study.
Opening his eyes, he studied hers intently as her hands stilled in his hair. She was clearly already powerfully aroused, but her eyes also showed a hint of worry. She had cause to doubt him, of course. He’d been terribly inconsistent with her in the past. He wanted her to know that he planned an end to all that, but that for all his youthful face belied it, he was old, and old habits died mightily hard with him.
He dipped his head and placed a kiss against her knee, damning the fabric still covering it. He wanted her skin beneath his lips again. “You said we were to take our time.”
He wasn’t expecting a giggle in response. “I think we’re a bit past that, now, don’t you think, Doctor? Another few minutes alone on that bouncy rock and you know as well as I do my knickers would have been off in the bushes somewhere.”
She was right, absolutely. He tried not to think of what would have happened had Mickey found them like that, instead of just a slightly flustered Rose.
“That was there, though,” he said to her thigh.
She lifted his head from her lap and eyed him, squinting like she was trying to figure him out. Then she spoke, her voice a slow, husky purr.
“And I’ve spent every second since we got back to the TARDIS desperate to get you alone again, to touch you.” She began undoing the top buttons of his shirt. “You telling me it wasn’t the same for you? Felt like it, eyes you were giving me while we were watching telly, the way your hands went up my legs when Mickey wasn’t looking. Am I wrong?”
She arrived at the limit of where her hands could reach with his buttons, so he stood before her again. He undid the rest and quickly discarded the garment and the undershirt beneath, then pulled her to her feet as well.
“Of course you’re not wrong.” He slid his arms about her and finally kissed her, loving both the taste of her mouth and the feel of so little separating her from his bare skin. Wanting even less between them, he broke the kiss and lifted the hem of her shirt. Obliging him, she lifted her arms so he could remove it from her entirely.
“You’re not wrong,” he repeated, leaning to kiss her near her collarbone. His hands found her back again and he revelled in the feel of her silky flesh beneath his fingers. “But I don’t want to muck this up,” he whispered against her.
Her hands came up between them, running lightly over his chest, and for a second he faltered in his task of kissing her skin, entranced by the new and marvellous sensation of her delicate touch.
“You won’t.”
“What?” He lifted his head.
“Muck it up. We won’t. ‘S you and me, Doctor.” She said it as if it were the simplest, most obvious thing in the world.
And maybe it was. If he was honest with himself, he knew his doubts and fears were almost nothing more than habitual. Rose is, was, and always would be worth any risk. And when risk taking felt this good, so right-more destined than inevitable, though he didn’t believe in destiny, really-well… his decision had been made a long time ago.
She gave him a dazzling smile that made his hearts clench and did similar things to his gut, above where her hands were still fluttering.
He kissed the smile from her and she responded hungrily, meeting his plunging tongue with her own, flattening her hand against his stomach as it got pressed between them. Then, after a moment, she used that hand to push him back a pace, breaking the kiss. He was about to question her actions when she moved both hands to the fastenings of his trousers.
* * *
Rose wanted to touch him as he had her. She wanted to see him lose control, to come undone, to come.
“I’ll be a lot more naked than you, then,” he challenged, his eyes sparkling at her.
She undid the clasp. “You’ve still got your trainers.”
He laughed and caught her hands in his. He kissed them lightly, toed off his shoes and reached behind her to undo her bra. She let him slide it down her shoulders, watched as his eyes took her in, but stopped him as he went to touch her.
“My turn, Doctor.”
“But-”
She undid his zip and slid her hand in to touch him directly, marvelling at rendering him temporarily speechless. She explored tentatively at first, watching his face as he grew even harder. His dark eyes met hers; he sucked in a quick breath through his slightly open mouth. Then she wrapped her hand around him firmly and stroked. His eyes slammed shut and his fists clenched then relaxed at his sides. She repeated the action twice more and he groaned and staggered a bit. She continued with a slow and steady rhythm, enthralled by the rapt pleasure on his face and the sound of his quick, short breaths.
Quite suddenly his eyes snapped open and his hand shot to her wrist stilling her movements.
“Rose,” he breathed out, his voice a low, silky timbre. “Stop.”
“Why?” she asked teasingly.
He gently pulled her hand away, then ran his hands down her arms slowly, causing her to shiver and refocus on her own body’s reaction. God she wanted him. She was practically shaking with it. The way he was looking at her didn’t help, and there were really far far too many clothes still between them. Still she tried to hold on to some measure of control.
“Because, Rose. First time in this body and all and-”
“Do you mean that you’ve never-”
“Not with this body, no.”
Well, that answered one of her remaining questions about what had or hadn’t happened while the Doctor was at Versailles. But she really didn’t want to think about another woman who might have loved the Doctor right now.
“And more importantly,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, “first time with you. It should be… with you.” His voice dropped low again as he reminded her of their conversation earlier. “That all right?”
“Um,” she said oh so eloquently. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
“Good.” He quickly shoved his trousers and pants past his hips and off, and then reached forward to undo her jeans.
She was momentarily transfixed by his completely nude form. Her eyes followed the lines and angles downwards, familiarizing herself with what she’d only touched thus far. When she reached his feet, she realized that her jeans were now pooled at her ankles. She looked up at him to find him beaming at her and a lovely sly smile at his lips.
He pointedly glanced at the bed.
She placed a hand on his chest and gave him a small shove so that he fell backwards onto it. He blinked up at her in surprise before she climbed atop of him and straddled his thighs. She rocked against him, their bodies still separated by the small piece of lace that was her knickers, and he groaned again.
She leaned down to kiss him and he devoured her mouth in response, messily kissing back, a hand clamped to the back of her head for a moment before he moved both of them down to her hips. His hands slipped beneath her knickers to cover her bum and he pulled her against him. He hit just the right spot and she gasped, breaking their kiss.
Oh she had wanted to tease him, to get him as worked up and over as she’d been in that Eden. But she was beyond waiting any longer, and he did seem about ready to burst as it was-his hands clenched on her arse, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
She placed a small, almost chaste kiss on his chest and then shimmied out of his grasp. He whimpered and opened his eyes as she rolled off of him and onto her back.
“Rose?”
“Knickers,” she gasped out, reaching down and practically flinging the offending garment off of her and quickly clambering back on top of the Doctor. An instant later he rolled them and she found herself on her back again, looking up at him.
They were both panting for breath, but save that they were so very still. It suddenly felt a bit like everything was in slow motion. His eyes bore into her, she felt his hand beneath her knee, shifting her so he could get into position between her thighs, then a hand come up and brush wayward strands of her hair out of her face. And then in one smooth stroke he was inside her and time sped up again.
Almost immediately they found a rhythm in their urgent movements. They were racing toward the finish, and that suited her just fine this time around. She had wanted to watch him, to concentrate on his face, but with what he was doing to her, it was difficult to concentrate on anything but the incredible sensations building inside of her. Because experienced or not, his body knew exactly what it was doing.
“Doctor?” she managed to breath out.
“Wha’?”
“How do you…” she trailed off into a moan, her eyes sliding shut. “You know just how to-” she cut herself off with a gasping squeak as he altered the angle and sped up the tempo setting off the first fine tremors within her. Another few thrusts and she came, it rolling through her like a thunderclap-rumbling, exploding, and receding only slowly.
She opened her eyes just in time to see him follow her. His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw taut, his whole lean body rigid and finely trembling after his final plunge into hers.
She ran a hand soothingly along his back as he gently let his weight settle upon her, his head pillowed on her breast. Bliss radiated through her whole body. She’d never felt quite so content. And just having had probably the best shag of her life was only part of that. It was amazing, physically, but what it meant for the two of them went far beyond that.
He rested there, still, until their heart rates approached normal, before shifting off of her. He propped himself on an elbow and peered down at her.
“So what do you think?” he asked, his voice still a bit gravelly.
“What?” Her eyes widened. He wasn’t asking for a… review, was he?
“Peanut butter and banana like I mentioned before? Toasted cheese? What do you fancy?”
“Doctor,” she groaned, “you are not going to make us sandwiches right now.”
“I’m not? Well, it doesn’t have to be sandwiches, I suppose.” He huffed when she gave him A Look. “Rose, sex is an unusual energy expenditure for Time Lords. Need to replenish with food.”
“Can’t you replenish with cuddles and sleep like everyone else?” Right now she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.
“Yes. Cuddles and sleep, preceded by nibbles.” He kissed her shoulder and slid out of bed, heading for the door.
“Well put something on at least!” She reached blindly next to the bed and tossed what she found at the Doctor, and then promptly dissolved into a fit of giggles when he put it on.
“What, I don’t look fetching in your dressing gown?”
>>
He didn’t care to guess at the picture he made, tiptoeing about the TARDIS in Rose’s fluffy pink robe which barely brushed the top of his knees, balancing two cups of tea and a plate of snacks. He didn’t relish the thought of having to make any awkward explanations either.
But thankfully, he arrived at Rose’s door again without incident. He quietly slipped into the bedroom, only to find her already curled up on her side, fast asleep.
He stood stock still for a moment, just observing her; carefully memorizing the contours of her face, softened by sleep.
All over, throughout space and time, people are wasting chances at happiness, he’d said to her. I don’t want to run out of time with you .
He hadn’t. He wouldn’t.
He set his burden carefully on the bedside table, shucked the cloth that covered him and climbed into bed beside his Rose.
He pulled her close, fitting his body to hers, revelling in her soft, sleepy noises of contentment. He briefly allowed himself to think of how his people would have frowned on such a thing, finding such joy in the close company of a lesser species from an insignificant planet. Would any of them understand now that she was the only thing that kept him from feeling truly, devastatingly, alone?
His people had been wrong about so many things. Maybe it was time one of them got it right.
FIN