La Petite Mort (Chapter 2)
Title: La Petite Mort (2/10)
Author: sinecure - My master fic list
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Multi-Doctor/Rose (not all at once)
Rating: Adult, humor/angst/romance... did I mention the humor?
Summary: The Doctor never saw fit to warn Rose about things that could happen. And then they happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who... duh.
Author's Notes: Thanks goes to momdaegmorgan for the beta. Take a grain of salt and then read this story.
Rose burst out laughing as the Doctor slammed the TARDIS door on the Olnic horde that was hellbent on forcing them to participate in either their annual ritual for blessing the crops or slaughtering their guests.
Either/or, the Doctor hadn't really been clear on which.
She leaned back against the TARDIS door as the sound of the mini villagers thunking against it resonated throughout the control room, causing her to laugh even harder. Grinning at the Doctor she cradled her stomach with both arms. Running for their lives and laughing most of the way back was good for the muscles, but by now she was aching. Leaning against the door beside her, he turned his head to look at her, his own grin just as wide as hers.
"You were scared," she taunted, pointing at him and laughing. "I saw the look on your face. You thought they were gonna get us."
"Rose," he chided in a strict voice that was completely ruined by his amusement, "have you ever seen an Olnic solstice? Oh, sure, at first it's fun. There's lots of chanting and candle-burning, and music. But then comes a naked romp through the fields." He grabbed her hand and drew her up the ramp to the console. "And those plants hurt! They're just the right size to get you in..." his eyes shot to hers, widening comically, "certain parts."
She chuckled and shoved at his shoulder. "Baby."
His hand caught hers before she could drop it and drew her into a tight hug. "Oh, yes. Definitely. But I also like my bits just how they are, thank you."
Rose knew he was only teasing. Only being the gigantic flirt that he was. But she couldn't help responding to him, teasing and flirting back just as much as him. "And what nice parts they are, too."
He didn't release her as she'd expected, just pulled back a little ways, resting his forehead on hers. "Your parts are rather nice as well." His smile was a bit seductive, his voice throaty and low. "Quite lovely, in fact."
She drew in a deep breath, shifting ever so slightly toward him, wanting a kiss, just a single kiss. Their breaths met and mingled. But rationality came flooding back in. She liked this Doctor and didn't want him to change again. "We can't do this." The words were a mere whisper, torn from her throat because there was no other way for them to come out.
She wanted him so badly. It'd been six months since the last time. Since he'd changed. And, if anything, she loved him even more now.
"No," he agreed, though his mouth moved a little closer, his eyes heavy-lidded. "We can't."
"It'd be bad." His lips were so close that each word brought them into contact with her own. So she spoke again. "I'm rather fond of this body." And then she went a little further and pressed her lips to his. Just once. Surely that wouldn't hurt anything.
He followed her when she pulled away, even the millimeter she withdrew being too much for both of them. "Oh, I'm fond of yours as well, Rose." His eyes sparkled at her as his hands slipped to her bum, pressing her closer to him. "Would it shock you to know that I dream about making love to you? Often." He closed the gap again, sliding his mouth over hers and nibbling on her lower lip before breaking away to draw a breath.
She licked her lips, feeling the loss like a missing limb. Inching closer still, she felt, not just his erection pressing into her stomach, but what felt like every single atom of his body burning into hers. "You dream of me often, or you dream of making love to me often?" Another kiss; brief, hard, hungry.
Her hands clawed his back, clenching and unclenching in his shirt. She closed here eyes reveling in the feel of him surrounding her.
"Both." His hands slid under her blouse, cool against her warmth. Long, slender fingers against firm, smooth skin. His mouth caught hers again, his tongue sliding in quickly, tasting her, just a small taste. "I want you, Rose." His voice was no longer sweet and tender, it was filled with a desperate need. "Every second of every day."
She groaned, drawing back in frustration. "It's not fair." Her eyes opened and she dropped her head back in frustration as her hands came up to press gently against his chest. "Are you sure--positively, absolutely sure--that it would happen again? I mean, there's not the smallest, littlest bit of doubt in your mind?" She knew her voice was begging, pleading him, but she was beyond caring
She wanted him so badly.
He pulled her back to him, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "There's a chance-- well, actually, from the numbers, there's a high probability that it won't happen again, but I don't have all the data yet, so--"
"What?" she snapped, sliding free of him to smack his shoulder. "You've been working this out, tryin' to find a way around it? You never said!"
His eyes followed her movements away from him. Still within reaching distance, almost touching him, but not quite doing so. "I wanted to know for sure first. Wanted it to be a surprise." He inhaled and let the breath go in a rush of air. "I didn't want to get your hopes up."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "And?"
He licked his lips, watching her chest as it rose and fell above the neckline of her blouse. "It's looking promising." His eyes slid to the console behind her. "I set the final figures running before we left, I'm just waiting on the--"
There was a loud beeping sound.
His eyes widened and he moved past her, darting around the console.
"Doctor?" She was on the edge of a knife blade, half of her wanted to panic that it was impossible, the other half wanted to celebrate that it was possible. "What's it say?"
He turned with a grin, sweeping her up into his arms. Their lips met with a bruising fierceness, but she didn't care. He was kissing her and that's all that mattered. Hot, hard kisses burned into her lips. His hands claimed all the skin he could touch, just as much as his lips claimed her mouth.
Her clothes were torn, tossed aside and stepped out of as fast as possible.
His were removed, yanked off and dropped.
Both of them littered the TARDIS floor with the detritus of their lovemaking.
He grabbed her bum, pulling her closer, letting her feel the hard flesh eager for her warmth. Gasps escaped her mouth, but were drowned out by his delighted groan when she clawed her fingernails down his back.
They didn't try for the console this time.
A support strut was their target destination, fast and hard against it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a favorite place for her limbs, eagerly remembering the position from last time.
He thrust while she sank onto him grabbing and clawing at flesh. Smooth and hard at the same time, inflaming memories of their first, and only, time. His lips nipped, sucked, and licked against her neck before moving back up to her mouth. Her teeth pulled at his lip, possibly drawing blood.
She sank down on him again and again, tightening her legs around his thin waist while his strong arms supported her, never wavering, never letting go. His eyes were on hers as his body thrust into her. She felt tight around him, warm. Too warm. Sweat was dripping down her chest, drawing his eyes and then his tongue to follow the path. Inside her, he moved, hard, fast, seeking release, but not letting her lose sight of her own.
Pleasure rocketed through her as his hand dropped between their bodies, rubbing, teasing, circling. "God," she bit out, dropping her head back, closing her eyes as her body coiled up like a spring, tighter and tighter until she thought she'd explode.
And then she did.
Pleasure.
Release.
She opened her eyes lazily, resting her head on his chest. Her beautiful Doctor. Licking his shoulder, she scraped her teeth against it. Her mark from last time was gone and she wanted to leave something behind; evidence that she'd had him, and that he'd had her.
He thrust again, riding out her clenching muscles, reveling in the tighter friction her climax provided him. Again. And again. More. Bloody hell. Harder. Yes. Faster. Rose.
And then he was coming, his hips bucking against hers, hitting her hard and nearly dislodging her position against him. Grunting in her ear, he collapsed against her, panting and gasping for breath.
Rose held herself still, waiting... waiting for something to alert her to him regenerating again. But nothing happened. He didn't stiffen against her like last time.
She opened her eyes to see his tender ones watching her somberly.
"Oops," he said softly, raising a hand to cup her cheek. "I'm sorry, Rose."
She felt his grip loosening, his legs beginning to give out. "No," she whispered, moving to make him put her down, but he held tighter, sinking to the floor to cradle her in his lap. Her lower lip started to tremble. "I don't want you to go."
The golden glow of his body was growing at a much quicker pace this time. Already he was bathed in it from head to toe.
"I'm sorry. The calculations were wrong." His hands cupped her cheeks tenderly, his eyes closing slowly as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then her forehead. "I'm glad I got to be with you before I changed."
"Don't say that," she cried. "We shouldn't have done this. We shouldn't have. It's my fault." She paused and drew in a ragged breath, whispering, "I keep killing you."
His body was enveloped in the golden light completely now, some of it escaping through his fingers, still on her face. She felt the warmth of his skin and knew that was wrong. He was burning before her eyes, again, and there was nothing she could do. All because of their stupid hormones.
"No, Rose. You were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." His hands combed through her hair a few times, his eyes settling on the strands before returning to her face. "I love you. And that won't ch--" he gasped in pain, doubling over as much as he could with her in his lap. "--won't change when I do."
"I lo--" she got out before his body went taut and light flowed out of him.
His hair shortened and lightened, and she caught a glimpse of dark blonde through the bright light pouring out of him. His arms were thicker--more muscular--his legs beneath her were as well. The flesh inside of her was thinner, longer, and, she realized, hardening.
And then the light faded and she was looking at another new Doctor.
He drew in a deep breath and grinned at her. Still grinning, always grinning. "Well, then, bit of a rubbish idea, that one."
She pushed at him and tried to climb off of his lap at the same time. He released her and watched as she clambered to her feet, putting his hands behind him on the floor to lean back. Still watching her.
Her eyes skimmed over him, from his--she choked on something between a laugh and a sob--ginger hair, to his half-mast erection.
He let her look her fill--seemed to actually want her to--and waited.
"You're ginger," she told him in a flat tone before turning to gather her clothes from the floor. She pulled her blouse over her head and then stepped into her knickers.
Still the Doctor sat. "Rose."
She paused in the middle of buttoning her jeans. Her eyes didn't quite meet his. She'd already seen them. They were still brown, though different now: narrower, larger, a slightly lighter shade. "Yeah."
"It's still me. There may even still be licking this time 'round." His eyes slid to hers, full of predatory promise before he got distracted by his shorter hair.
She flicked her eyes back to the floor. "I know it's you." A small shrug followed her words.
He looked about the same age as the Doctor he'd just replaced. Maybe a year or two older. But she knew it was him. Manic moods, distracted quite easily one moment and fully focused on something the next; there could be no doubt. After all, she'd been through this a couple of times now.
The Doctor glanced her way and she saw him roll his eyes a little, reminding her of her first Doctor.
"Oh, come on, Rose. It's not the end of the universe. Granted, we can't have sex again," his eyes ran over her slowly, disappointment showing clearly on his face, "and that's a bit of a shame, but we'll live." He stopped and stared into the air in front of him, frowning. "Was that a pun? Did I pun there?" Shaking himself, he straightened up and ran a hand down his abdomen critically, appraising the flat stomach and chest beneath his hand before turning his eyes back to her. "I don't like puns."
She raised an eyebrow at him, lips twitching. "No worries. That wasn't really anywhere near a pun...."
"Excellent!" He jumped to his feet and she noticed that he was still taller than her by quite a bit, but shorter than her other two Doctors. He frowned at the floor, then bent to pick up his white dress shirt. "Pinstriped suit," he mused. He swung the shirt on and tried to button it. "Smaller hands. I'm shorter too." His eyes settled on something behind her and he went to pick it up. "Chucks with a suit," he muttered, sighing. The shoe went flying over his shoulder and his grin was back in place. "New me, or rather, new, new, new me," he said with a wink.
"Yeah," she agreed, looking at his unbuttoned shirt. It was too narrow now. He was similar in build to her first Doctor, and the suit would never fit him. He'd never wear it again.
He held his hand out to her, waggling his fingers.
She tightened her lips and held her shoes to her chest, refusing to go to this new Doctor. She wanted the last one back.
Undaunted, he moved over to her and grabbed her hand, forcing her to drop one of her shoes to the metal grating. He twined their fingers. "Still me," he said in his new voice, which was richer sounding. And there was a bit of a Manchester accent there. "Still the Doctor. And you're still Rose, and this is still the TARDIS. And I--" he said, gesturing at his lack of clothing, "--am in dire need of new clothes. Really, what was I thinking? Pinstripes and chucks?" He shook his head despairingly and rolled his eyes. "Neither here nor there, though. Rose Tyler, stop moping and help me pick something out."
She cleared her throat and bent to pick up her fallen shoe. Help him replace the other Doctor with new clothes? She couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. "'M a bit tired. Think I'll go to bed. Night... Doctor."
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder before she'd made it more than three steps. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is bonding time. Me. You. Clothes." He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "D'you know I have a sudden craving for pretzels. And Radelion nectar." He looked pleased by this new development. "I haven't had a decent Radelion nectar in ages."
Rose sighed. She didn't want to brush him off, but it would take getting used to this new Doctor. Again. She just didn't want to do it now, not this soon. She wanted to mourn the other Doctor like she'd mourned her first one.
She hated this. Hated that she was responsible for killing him, for making him into a new man, for needing to reacquaint herself with a new him, again.
"Oh," he said with a distasteful twist of his lips, "no pity parties in the TARDIS. I don't like pity parties."
Rose yanked her arm free and left him behind, pretty sure she heard him groan out a disgusted, "Bugger!"
Chapter 3- Dial it Up to Eleven.
Author: sinecure - My master fic list
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Multi-Doctor/Rose (not all at once)
Rating: Adult, humor/angst/romance... did I mention the humor?
Summary: The Doctor never saw fit to warn Rose about things that could happen. And then they happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who... duh.
Author's Notes: Thanks goes to momdaegmorgan for the beta. Take a grain of salt and then read this story.
Rose burst out laughing as the Doctor slammed the TARDIS door on the Olnic horde that was hellbent on forcing them to participate in either their annual ritual for blessing the crops or slaughtering their guests.
Either/or, the Doctor hadn't really been clear on which.
She leaned back against the TARDIS door as the sound of the mini villagers thunking against it resonated throughout the control room, causing her to laugh even harder. Grinning at the Doctor she cradled her stomach with both arms. Running for their lives and laughing most of the way back was good for the muscles, but by now she was aching. Leaning against the door beside her, he turned his head to look at her, his own grin just as wide as hers.
"You were scared," she taunted, pointing at him and laughing. "I saw the look on your face. You thought they were gonna get us."
"Rose," he chided in a strict voice that was completely ruined by his amusement, "have you ever seen an Olnic solstice? Oh, sure, at first it's fun. There's lots of chanting and candle-burning, and music. But then comes a naked romp through the fields." He grabbed her hand and drew her up the ramp to the console. "And those plants hurt! They're just the right size to get you in..." his eyes shot to hers, widening comically, "certain parts."
She chuckled and shoved at his shoulder. "Baby."
His hand caught hers before she could drop it and drew her into a tight hug. "Oh, yes. Definitely. But I also like my bits just how they are, thank you."
Rose knew he was only teasing. Only being the gigantic flirt that he was. But she couldn't help responding to him, teasing and flirting back just as much as him. "And what nice parts they are, too."
He didn't release her as she'd expected, just pulled back a little ways, resting his forehead on hers. "Your parts are rather nice as well." His smile was a bit seductive, his voice throaty and low. "Quite lovely, in fact."
She drew in a deep breath, shifting ever so slightly toward him, wanting a kiss, just a single kiss. Their breaths met and mingled. But rationality came flooding back in. She liked this Doctor and didn't want him to change again. "We can't do this." The words were a mere whisper, torn from her throat because there was no other way for them to come out.
She wanted him so badly. It'd been six months since the last time. Since he'd changed. And, if anything, she loved him even more now.
"No," he agreed, though his mouth moved a little closer, his eyes heavy-lidded. "We can't."
"It'd be bad." His lips were so close that each word brought them into contact with her own. So she spoke again. "I'm rather fond of this body." And then she went a little further and pressed her lips to his. Just once. Surely that wouldn't hurt anything.
He followed her when she pulled away, even the millimeter she withdrew being too much for both of them. "Oh, I'm fond of yours as well, Rose." His eyes sparkled at her as his hands slipped to her bum, pressing her closer to him. "Would it shock you to know that I dream about making love to you? Often." He closed the gap again, sliding his mouth over hers and nibbling on her lower lip before breaking away to draw a breath.
She licked her lips, feeling the loss like a missing limb. Inching closer still, she felt, not just his erection pressing into her stomach, but what felt like every single atom of his body burning into hers. "You dream of me often, or you dream of making love to me often?" Another kiss; brief, hard, hungry.
Her hands clawed his back, clenching and unclenching in his shirt. She closed here eyes reveling in the feel of him surrounding her.
"Both." His hands slid under her blouse, cool against her warmth. Long, slender fingers against firm, smooth skin. His mouth caught hers again, his tongue sliding in quickly, tasting her, just a small taste. "I want you, Rose." His voice was no longer sweet and tender, it was filled with a desperate need. "Every second of every day."
She groaned, drawing back in frustration. "It's not fair." Her eyes opened and she dropped her head back in frustration as her hands came up to press gently against his chest. "Are you sure--positively, absolutely sure--that it would happen again? I mean, there's not the smallest, littlest bit of doubt in your mind?" She knew her voice was begging, pleading him, but she was beyond caring
She wanted him so badly.
He pulled her back to him, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "There's a chance-- well, actually, from the numbers, there's a high probability that it won't happen again, but I don't have all the data yet, so--"
"What?" she snapped, sliding free of him to smack his shoulder. "You've been working this out, tryin' to find a way around it? You never said!"
His eyes followed her movements away from him. Still within reaching distance, almost touching him, but not quite doing so. "I wanted to know for sure first. Wanted it to be a surprise." He inhaled and let the breath go in a rush of air. "I didn't want to get your hopes up."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "And?"
He licked his lips, watching her chest as it rose and fell above the neckline of her blouse. "It's looking promising." His eyes slid to the console behind her. "I set the final figures running before we left, I'm just waiting on the--"
There was a loud beeping sound.
His eyes widened and he moved past her, darting around the console.
"Doctor?" She was on the edge of a knife blade, half of her wanted to panic that it was impossible, the other half wanted to celebrate that it was possible. "What's it say?"
He turned with a grin, sweeping her up into his arms. Their lips met with a bruising fierceness, but she didn't care. He was kissing her and that's all that mattered. Hot, hard kisses burned into her lips. His hands claimed all the skin he could touch, just as much as his lips claimed her mouth.
Her clothes were torn, tossed aside and stepped out of as fast as possible.
His were removed, yanked off and dropped.
Both of them littered the TARDIS floor with the detritus of their lovemaking.
He grabbed her bum, pulling her closer, letting her feel the hard flesh eager for her warmth. Gasps escaped her mouth, but were drowned out by his delighted groan when she clawed her fingernails down his back.
They didn't try for the console this time.
A support strut was their target destination, fast and hard against it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a favorite place for her limbs, eagerly remembering the position from last time.
He thrust while she sank onto him grabbing and clawing at flesh. Smooth and hard at the same time, inflaming memories of their first, and only, time. His lips nipped, sucked, and licked against her neck before moving back up to her mouth. Her teeth pulled at his lip, possibly drawing blood.
She sank down on him again and again, tightening her legs around his thin waist while his strong arms supported her, never wavering, never letting go. His eyes were on hers as his body thrust into her. She felt tight around him, warm. Too warm. Sweat was dripping down her chest, drawing his eyes and then his tongue to follow the path. Inside her, he moved, hard, fast, seeking release, but not letting her lose sight of her own.
Pleasure rocketed through her as his hand dropped between their bodies, rubbing, teasing, circling. "God," she bit out, dropping her head back, closing her eyes as her body coiled up like a spring, tighter and tighter until she thought she'd explode.
And then she did.
Pleasure.
Release.
She opened her eyes lazily, resting her head on his chest. Her beautiful Doctor. Licking his shoulder, she scraped her teeth against it. Her mark from last time was gone and she wanted to leave something behind; evidence that she'd had him, and that he'd had her.
He thrust again, riding out her clenching muscles, reveling in the tighter friction her climax provided him. Again. And again. More. Bloody hell. Harder. Yes. Faster. Rose.
And then he was coming, his hips bucking against hers, hitting her hard and nearly dislodging her position against him. Grunting in her ear, he collapsed against her, panting and gasping for breath.
Rose held herself still, waiting... waiting for something to alert her to him regenerating again. But nothing happened. He didn't stiffen against her like last time.
She opened her eyes to see his tender ones watching her somberly.
"Oops," he said softly, raising a hand to cup her cheek. "I'm sorry, Rose."
She felt his grip loosening, his legs beginning to give out. "No," she whispered, moving to make him put her down, but he held tighter, sinking to the floor to cradle her in his lap. Her lower lip started to tremble. "I don't want you to go."
The golden glow of his body was growing at a much quicker pace this time. Already he was bathed in it from head to toe.
"I'm sorry. The calculations were wrong." His hands cupped her cheeks tenderly, his eyes closing slowly as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then her forehead. "I'm glad I got to be with you before I changed."
"Don't say that," she cried. "We shouldn't have done this. We shouldn't have. It's my fault." She paused and drew in a ragged breath, whispering, "I keep killing you."
His body was enveloped in the golden light completely now, some of it escaping through his fingers, still on her face. She felt the warmth of his skin and knew that was wrong. He was burning before her eyes, again, and there was nothing she could do. All because of their stupid hormones.
"No, Rose. You were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." His hands combed through her hair a few times, his eyes settling on the strands before returning to her face. "I love you. And that won't ch--" he gasped in pain, doubling over as much as he could with her in his lap. "--won't change when I do."
"I lo--" she got out before his body went taut and light flowed out of him.
His hair shortened and lightened, and she caught a glimpse of dark blonde through the bright light pouring out of him. His arms were thicker--more muscular--his legs beneath her were as well. The flesh inside of her was thinner, longer, and, she realized, hardening.
And then the light faded and she was looking at another new Doctor.
He drew in a deep breath and grinned at her. Still grinning, always grinning. "Well, then, bit of a rubbish idea, that one."
She pushed at him and tried to climb off of his lap at the same time. He released her and watched as she clambered to her feet, putting his hands behind him on the floor to lean back. Still watching her.
Her eyes skimmed over him, from his--she choked on something between a laugh and a sob--ginger hair, to his half-mast erection.
He let her look her fill--seemed to actually want her to--and waited.
"You're ginger," she told him in a flat tone before turning to gather her clothes from the floor. She pulled her blouse over her head and then stepped into her knickers.
Still the Doctor sat. "Rose."
She paused in the middle of buttoning her jeans. Her eyes didn't quite meet his. She'd already seen them. They were still brown, though different now: narrower, larger, a slightly lighter shade. "Yeah."
"It's still me. There may even still be licking this time 'round." His eyes slid to hers, full of predatory promise before he got distracted by his shorter hair.
She flicked her eyes back to the floor. "I know it's you." A small shrug followed her words.
He looked about the same age as the Doctor he'd just replaced. Maybe a year or two older. But she knew it was him. Manic moods, distracted quite easily one moment and fully focused on something the next; there could be no doubt. After all, she'd been through this a couple of times now.
The Doctor glanced her way and she saw him roll his eyes a little, reminding her of her first Doctor.
"Oh, come on, Rose. It's not the end of the universe. Granted, we can't have sex again," his eyes ran over her slowly, disappointment showing clearly on his face, "and that's a bit of a shame, but we'll live." He stopped and stared into the air in front of him, frowning. "Was that a pun? Did I pun there?" Shaking himself, he straightened up and ran a hand down his abdomen critically, appraising the flat stomach and chest beneath his hand before turning his eyes back to her. "I don't like puns."
She raised an eyebrow at him, lips twitching. "No worries. That wasn't really anywhere near a pun...."
"Excellent!" He jumped to his feet and she noticed that he was still taller than her by quite a bit, but shorter than her other two Doctors. He frowned at the floor, then bent to pick up his white dress shirt. "Pinstriped suit," he mused. He swung the shirt on and tried to button it. "Smaller hands. I'm shorter too." His eyes settled on something behind her and he went to pick it up. "Chucks with a suit," he muttered, sighing. The shoe went flying over his shoulder and his grin was back in place. "New me, or rather, new, new, new me," he said with a wink.
"Yeah," she agreed, looking at his unbuttoned shirt. It was too narrow now. He was similar in build to her first Doctor, and the suit would never fit him. He'd never wear it again.
He held his hand out to her, waggling his fingers.
She tightened her lips and held her shoes to her chest, refusing to go to this new Doctor. She wanted the last one back.
Undaunted, he moved over to her and grabbed her hand, forcing her to drop one of her shoes to the metal grating. He twined their fingers. "Still me," he said in his new voice, which was richer sounding. And there was a bit of a Manchester accent there. "Still the Doctor. And you're still Rose, and this is still the TARDIS. And I--" he said, gesturing at his lack of clothing, "--am in dire need of new clothes. Really, what was I thinking? Pinstripes and chucks?" He shook his head despairingly and rolled his eyes. "Neither here nor there, though. Rose Tyler, stop moping and help me pick something out."
She cleared her throat and bent to pick up her fallen shoe. Help him replace the other Doctor with new clothes? She couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. "'M a bit tired. Think I'll go to bed. Night... Doctor."
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder before she'd made it more than three steps. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is bonding time. Me. You. Clothes." He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "D'you know I have a sudden craving for pretzels. And Radelion nectar." He looked pleased by this new development. "I haven't had a decent Radelion nectar in ages."
Rose sighed. She didn't want to brush him off, but it would take getting used to this new Doctor. Again. She just didn't want to do it now, not this soon. She wanted to mourn the other Doctor like she'd mourned her first one.
She hated this. Hated that she was responsible for killing him, for making him into a new man, for needing to reacquaint herself with a new him, again.
"Oh," he said with a distasteful twist of his lips, "no pity parties in the TARDIS. I don't like pity parties."
Rose yanked her arm free and left him behind, pretty sure she heard him groan out a disgusted, "Bugger!"
Chapter 3- Dial it Up to Eleven.