Show- Pairing- Doctor Who. Ten/Rose
Rating- M/R/A/ Adult
Disclaimer- I own David. Despite what the lawsuit says.
Summary- The Doctor is lousy at Cards and the gamblers need an act for the show. Rose + feathers + stillettos. How exactly is the Doctor going to get out of this one?
A/N- Happy!Who. Fic. Or rather, slightly smutty who. With essences of hiding under the communal duvet.
Rose Tyler was angry.
No, scratch that.
She was mildly annoyed when the Doctor had decided to wander off on Oreborous without telling her where he was going.
She was slightly miffed when he’d come back to tell her that he’d found a great drinking tavern and had made several new friends there.
She had been irritated when, on returning to the tavern, the Doctor had resumed playing cards and ignored her.
She had gotten angry when he, shame-faced and apologetic, had cornered her to tell her that he was losing, and losing badly, and he’d inadvertently told the card sharks that he was wealthier than he actually was.
She was fuming when one of the card sharks had asked for her to be part of the deal, and she’d gone from fuming to full out boiling when the Doctor had agreed with an aside of “can’t possibly lose”.
From there Rose could have left him to stew in his own juices as the sharks brought out clubs and knives determined to take their inch of Time Lord flesh, or she could be a sport and ‘take one for the team’.
She’d agreed only because the Doctor would owe her and owe her big when it came to collect: ‘unlimited credit on Mallone II with his as bag boy’ kind of big.
Of course, once they had told her that what they really needed was an act, because their star for the night had spontaneously exploded, she was moving into ‘furious’ and ‘taking her to the biggest spa in the galaxy’ as a penance.
Then she had seen the outfit that she was supposed to wearing as part of the entertainment and she went beyond ‘angry’, beyond ‘furious’ and into ‘enraged’, and she’d decided that the spa and shopping could wait.
She was sending the Doctor to Skegness with Jackie for two weeks. In a camper van— No! In a tent.
Standing behind the opening curtain of shimmering silver Rose allowed herself the pleasure of imagining the Doctor wrapped in a grey sleeping bag with a stuck zip getting dripped on all night from a leaky canvas whilst being forced to see Jackie first thing in the morning.
There was a wolf whistle from the crowd.
She gritted her teeth.
The Doctor having to deal with Jackie before coffee. Before make-up. Alone.
There was a burst of static as the emcee of the place—and alien with three open holes where one mouth should be—stood up and held an orange bar which, apparently, doubled as a microphone.
Rose could hear his words clearly, thanks to the TARDIS’ wonderful translation program and she was mildly amused amidst her fury that the alien had a Cambridge accent.
“Esteemed guests from the Hadrojassic Emporium. We have arranged, for your gratification, a rare pink and yellow biped from one of the outer rimmed planets. She will exhibit for your satisfaction!”
Not bloody likely. Rose snarled internally as she mentally put the Doctor’s name down for two Bingo nights with her mum and a soggy sausage breakfast cooked on a calor gas stove, served by her mum in a nightie—no, that was going a bit too far.
“Here is the creature!”
One eyebrow shot up as Rose stumbled onto the stage, her six inch heels already killing her ankles.
Who the hell thought up red leather stilettos anyway? Sadist.
Rose Marion Tyler, Earth-girl, shop-girl and Doctor’s companion (although she was re-thinking that particularly one) stood on a gold-gilded stage three million light years away from Earth dressed like an extra from Moulin Rouge.
The red stilettos were corny enough, the fishnet stockings added lashings of humiliation and she couldn’t breathe in the damned Basque, but having to wear her hair piled up on her had with a damn feather in it was bordering on going too far. The opera gloves only served to accentuate the fact that her hands were curved into claws ready to kill someone and the least said about the wings the better.
The outfit proclaimed ‘show-girl’ or at least ‘slut’ but the stance was pure warrior. Rose Tyler was gonna kick someone’s arse.
As she took one step forward onto the stage another burst of static erupted from somewhere near her ear and the stage flooded with both light and sound.
Thankfully, three million light years away from Earth they didn’t have ‘Pour some sugar on me’ or even ‘I love Rock and Roll’ as back up to her mortification, but the sultry tones, and heavy beat of the chosen song interspersed with enough sexual tension to power Vegas for a year were enough to make her long for at least one chorus of ‘Fever’.
She stepped forward, her hips swinging with the effort to not fall on her face in these ridiculous shoes.
She was going to kill the Doctor, but first she had to find him.
The Doctor had never been particularly lucky at cards, which was odd because with his amazing powers of observation and the whole of time at his disposal, he really should have been.
Sadly, though, it was one skill that passed him by and he had never regretted it as much as he did just then.
Maybe it had been a bad idea to flaunt the unlimited credit chip at the table, especially when he wasn’t exactly sure how dangerous the aliens he was playing with were. But water under the bridge, no use crying over spilled milk, live and let live … except that Rose was going to kill him.
He’d known it when he’d had to confess to her that they might just, possibly, need to make a run for it.
He’d known it when the Dek’lrggs had suggested that she be part of the pot and he sure as Terra-firma knew it when he agreed.
That had been a special kind of stupid.
This incarnation had the predisposition to open his mouth before his brain had a chance to play catch up.
When Rose had been dragged out of the back of the tavern with the usual ‘save me Doctor’ expression replaced with ‘you won’t get a chance to regenerate’, he knew, just knew that he was in for a world of trouble.
Of course, when the emcee had started with that routine, the music started and Rose was pushed onto the stage, he kissed goodbye to any thoughts of a future life and just counted himself lucky that Jackie wasn’t there too.
But as the light illuminated his companion he wouldn’t have noticed if all of his incarnations had wandered into the room wearing feathers singing the Time Warp.
All he could see was Rose.
He had to control the urge to gasp out loud. He blinked his eyes in shock and felt his chest constrict painfully, his two hearts not doing their job as blood rushed somewhere that defiantly wasn’t his brain.
The sight of Rose had him feeling like he’d been punched in the stomach. She was … breathtaking.
Pleased to be in the shadows for once he let his eyes roam over her body unashamedly and felt his mouth go dry.
She looked so unbelievably adult and female and … and … sexy.
He’d known that Rose Tyler was beautiful. The first time he’d seen her in a proper dress with fitted bodice he’d had to take another look to make sure this was the same companion he’d brought on board with her baggy jeans and hoodie.
But this look was something so much more.
Her ‘fuck-me’ shoes showcasing long, long legs, tight corset emphasising that tiny waist and luscious hips and that ridiculous feather curling over the top of her artful arranged curls had something deep inside him tugging in places that he was always told Time Lords didn’t have.
Or shouldn’t have.
He tried to regain his composure but Rose had started moving and each beat had her hips roll towards him and his eyes were stuck to those dangerous curves.
Rose had moved towards the centre stage and cast her gaze over the crowds, not knowing that the action made her look alluring and sultry. She was too busy looking for the Doctor and her gaze drifted over him once before flicking back to catch his eye.
She was pissed and brought her hands up to her hips in a stance that told him in no uncertain terms that he was in for it.
His eyes dropped down to her shoes and crawled back up slowly, oh so slowly, taking in every inch of her, and the angry glare froze on her face as, for the first time, she could see his expression.
Like a starving man at a banquet.
Like an addict staring at his next fix.
Wanting to devour.
Her skin felt hot under that intensity, like standing under a blazing sun, the heat prickling her skin and causing tendrils of warmth to skitter across her body.
His eyes were dark and intense and almost hard with an expression that she’d never seen in them before … at least not in this body. This incarnation had always seemed almost frivolous in comparison to her previous Doctor.
There was nothing frivolous about the heat pouring off him now. He was dark and somehow dangerous in a way that had all her senses primed and aimed at him.
The heat surrounded her, like a physical presence and it dragged her forward, pulling at her with silken strands closer to the Doctor, slumped in his chair with a deceptive grace.
The music pounded out a rhythm but to Rose, all was silent around them, the focus being the way that he tempted her onwards, the way his expression dared her to move closer, to change their relationship into something new, something dangerous, something more.
Rose found herself responding to that look with a growing hypersensitivity.
From the crown of her head to the tip of her toes she could literally feel something inside start to twitch from his gaze and she shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, shifting the bodice of the corset to draw the eye to the way her chest was starting to rise and fall more rapidly, breaths coming harder and faster than they had any right to.
The Doctor stared spellbound as her creamy skin shone in the spot light and almost glistened as a faint sheen of sweat, unnoticeable to the human eye, began to appear.
She was breathing heavily but seemed to be tugging herself back under control.
He didn’t want that.
Suddenly every single barrier that he had erected between them seemed ridiculous and he wanted nothing more than to not only cross the line but set it on fire as he passed.
He wanted to throw caution to the wind and laugh in the face of reason.
He wanted Rose.
And he wanted her to want him.
The Doctor shifted slightly to draw her attention back to him and he decided to try Rose’s trick.
He brought his tongue out, laying the tip of it against his top teeth and traced a line across his teeth. He watched as a blush started between her breasts, a rosy hue travelling up her throat, drawing attention to the delicious way it curved into her graceful throat.
His oral fixation in this body assured that he always wanted something in his mouth, but not like this. He wanted to rise out of his chair, he wanted to travel over there and latch his teeth to that delicate skin. He wanted to lick and nip and taste and touch and do all the things that he knew he shouldn’t do.
But wanted to.
A wicked grin graced his lips.
Rose couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open slightly as the wolfish smile made her feel like Little Red Riding Hood. No man had ever looked at her like that before and she was helpless to resist.
She found herself wondering what it would feel like if his hands, those very talented hands, replaced his gaze as it travelled over her body. She gently bit her bottom lip to hold back a moan at the image and her eyes widened slightly as he mirrored the action.
She shivered and his grin deepened and became almost devilish.
The knowing way he was staring at her made her feel even more exposed and for one blinding moment she wanted to run, wanted to take to her heels and flee for the TARDIS and barricade herself in.
But Rose Tyler had never run away from anything non life threatening and the challenge in his eyes stiffened her spine. Rose Tyler never backed down from a challenge and she wasn’t about to start.
The Doctor thought he could twist her up in knots like some inexperienced little girl?
He wasn’t going to win here.
Rose took a deep breath and pulled her eyes away from his hypnotic stare.
Shareen had bullied her into taking salsa lessons when the craze hit a few years ago and Rose had got used to dancing the seductive dance. All she had to do was remember the steps.
The music thrummed in her veins and she loosened her shoulders, rolling her head back and exposing her throat as she tried to relax.
She reached up and pulled out the feather, trailing the fine fronds down her cheek and neck, over her chest and down her thigh before tucking it into the top of her stocking.
She cast her eyes around and used the moment to gather all of her courage; she was going to need it.
The Doctor lost the smug look as Rose left the safety of his gaze and drew the feather from her hair down her body, inviting all eyes to follow the path it took.
Then with a swing of her hips she started to move to the music, her shoulders shifting so slowly and seductively that his mouth started to water.
With a slow confident air and a determined smile she began a sexy, long legged sashay towards a band of aliens sat to one side.
The Doctor idly identified them as Xenocs, a small peaceful race of vaguely humanoid shaped aliens from the outer rings, and he noted that as the distance between Rose and the Xenocs decreased, he disliked them more and more.
Despite their alien nature the Xenocs were overtly staring at her, almost drowning in their own saliva as they were presented with the perfect image of lush, ripe, fertile female.
Rose smiled promisingly at them and reached up to run one black-clad finger down the nearest tentacle.
The Doctor’s hands gripped his seat tightly as she inclined her head and swung her hips in time to the beat. She slowly bent her knees and shimmied herself forward, bringing her shoulders down to eye level, letting the Xenocs get a great view down the front of her cleavage.
One reached for her and the Doctor was out of his chair before he realised he had moved, a growl starting in his chest; a primal urge to rip the hands off anyone who dared touch what was rightfully his.
But Rose was faster and she snapped back suddenly, arching her back away from the creatures and shook her finger at the Xenocs playfully.
She said something with a sweet smile and the Xenocs laughed.
The Doctor was thankful that he couldn’t hear what was being said as he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to keep control.
The Xenocs winked all five eyes at Rose and nodded in agreement to what she had said. Rose kissed her fingers and stroked them down the tentacles again, swaying away as the music picked up to a crescendo.
The Doctor sank back into his seat again, letting one leg swing far out to the side in reparation for any running that might need to be done, in, say, fifty seconds if she didn’t stop flirting with every other creature in the place.
His previous incarnation had not cornered the market on possessiveness; he just hid it better.
Rose couldn’t help the shudder that raced through her at the thought of how close she had come to being groped or kissed by an alien with five eyes and tentacles. She may be from Earth but she wasn’t ready to ‘dance’ with all the species yet. She wasn’t that flexible and she definitely wasn’t drunk enough.
One glance over her shoulder towards the Doctor, however, had her shuddering in a different way.
He looked half murderous and half predator. Wanting to hunt and kill, to take out the competition and go home with the prize.
It was a heady feeling to know that she was inspiring that in him and it tripled her confidence.
She decided that that was enough practise she was going to make him burn.
The look on Rose’s face changed to one that had him swallowing hard and feeling hotter that had in a good long while.
She stalked towards him, her eyes a promise that he was going to be eaten alive and would enjoy every second.
It was like being stalked by a wild animal, all hidden force and strength, wrapped up in a slinky package of deadly grace.
Rose reached him and gave him a slow seductive smile, heating his blood and reducing him to a puddle. Reaching out she ran one finger down his tie and fingered his lapels, pulling herself close to him.
The Doctor inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet strawberry scent that Rose preferred mixed with cherry lipstick and slick heat-warmed, turned on female.
It was a heady mix and the Doctor felt his head swim for a moment before he focussed again on the woman who had him, literally at her feet.
She reached out seductively and used her teeth to nip at each of her gloved fingers, pulling the opera gloves off and dropping them carelessly into his lap.
The black silk gloves looked so inoffensive draped over his brown trousers and yet, at the same time, invited him to imagine her hands in them, touching where the gloves lay.
He bit back a moan.
Rose moved away and his hearts pleaded with her not to go far, his hands reaching out to bring her back.
Rose artfully dodged them and she circled him, letting her fingers run up his arms, across his shoulders to wrap in his thick hair.
She used her nails to scrape against his scalp and his eyes closed at the delectable sensation. He was unable to stop the moan that rumbled from his throat and his head fell back as her soft fingers tugged at his locks.
Rose giggled softly and leaned down behind him.
He felt cool air against his ear lobe and sucked in breath as he realised she had just blown against his ear.
The fine hairs around his nape stood on end and he gasped out loud, his hands clenching into fists as he fought the urge to grab her, to end this torment.
Rose bit her lip as she saw his hands tighten in his lap. She was having an effect and she wanted to see it for herself.
She pranced around the chair to stand in front of him again and was rewarded by the heavy-lidded expression that proclaimed his arousal.
Raising her arms to over her head, Rose swung her body gently from side to side and arched her back towards him. She rocked her hips in a blatant invitation and let her eyes drift half-closed as she brought her hands down, letting them graze her skin as they passed her soft cheeks, her creamy collarbone and full figure.
The Doctor allowed his eyes to follow where her hands led and they lingered on all the spots he longed to kiss. So much skin revealed and yet not quite enough.
She used the music to undulate her body and turn slowly on the spot until she had her back to him and he was allowed to see what the others in the room could see.
Long legs clad in fishnet stockings tucked into tight, black shorts which showcased her rear bumper and the roundness enticed him.
Women’s curves, not childish thinness and he was smitten. He loved her hips.
Rose bent over, allowing him a better view as she swung her hips and he reached out, unable to stop his hands as they grabbed her waist, tightening on that perfect curvature and pulled her back into him.
Rose gasped out loud as she was yanked into his lap.
“Tease,” he growled into her ear, sending sparks of desire shooting through her at the hoarseness in his tone.
She closed her eyes and bowed backwards, his face fitting into the crook of her neck inviting him to taste. He moved forward to do so when she turned her head and he was presented with slick red cherry-coated lips.
He blinked, wanting to kiss her more than anything in the universe but she was speaking to him.
All eight of his senses were far to busy to pay attention to anything that she might be saying and he couldn’t concentrate, only moaning when she moved away again, removing her lips from his focus.
Like a child denied a treat he pouted and tightened his grip on her waist.
Rose tilted her head away and he took advantage of her movement to bow his head, fitting his chin into the dip between her neck and shoulder. He took a deep breath, inhaling the perfume of her skin.
Heady with the sensation of having Rose so close to him, he allowed one hand to slowly slide away from her side to smooth to and fro across the smooth satin and encasing her warm body. At the same time he ran his other hand up the outside of her bare thigh, past the curve of the hips that he loved so much, to linger just below the curve of her breast. So near yet so far. He marveled at the way humans were made so fragile and yet so very sturdy. So easy to break but near unbreakable.
A study in contradictions, that’s what humans were and none more so that his Rose.
Meanwhile His Rose felt like molten lava had been poured into her veins. She was aware of every single inch where his body touched hers. She bit down on her lip at each pass of his hand over her stomach and the soft pressure of his lips against her skin. There was a longing in her blood, a tantalizing pleading for something that they were braced on the edge of and she knew that this was the turning point.
Right now they could both still walk away, red-faced but still friends. But if his hands moved one inch or he opened his mouth then the line would be crossed and they couldn’t pretend.
Did she want that? Did she want to mess up the fragile dynamic they had established?
The Doctor seemed to sense her hesitation and moved his mouth to her ear.
“Trust me,” he hissed and Rose whimpered.
The Doctor returned his mouth to her shoulder and bit down gently, marking her as his own. He poked his tongue out and dragged it across sweat-slicked skin, tasting her in a way that he had wanted to do for so long.
Tasting Rose; one addiction that he wouldn’t want to cure.
He let his tongue travel up her throat, nipping at her ear and tugging at the lobe.
Rose’s sweet groan was like a match and he ignited, the hand that was on her belly suddenly dropping to her knee to pull her harder into his lap.
A jolt of electricity thrummed through him and he struggled to reign in his mounting exhilaration at the weight of her body on top of his.
Rose seemed to be possessed by the sultry beat that was only an after thought in his brain and she slithered her hips like a snake.
If she’d warned him, he might have been prepared but it was unexpected and his tentative control snapped.
His head snapped back as he succumbed to the sensation and he ground his hips upwards, contact burning him through and through. He used his nails to scratch up her leg, running red lines against the creamy whiteness of her thigh, marking her as his.
He hissed in delight as she moaned and his hand traveled higher aiming for that perfect goal, tracing soft skin and tickling feathers.
His eyes opened and he glanced down at the feather Rose had tucked into her stocking when she had begun the act for the … aliens that were watching them.
Rose was still writhing in his lap and it took all of the self control of 900 years to still her movement, his eyes not leaving the salivating hoards who were watching their little show like long time voyeurs.
He wanted Rose, but not in front of others.
“Rose,” he said slowly, knowing full well that as soon as she realized that they were practically humping in front of hundreds of aliens, she would be humiliated and would probably run faster than he could in those heels.
It had been a long time since he had worn heels, of course.
“Mmm,” she whispered, the sound going straight to his groin.
“Don’t panic,” he leaned forwards.
Panic? The words just didn’t seem to make sense in Rose’s pleasure filled mind and she frowned.
Why should she panic? Were they in danger?
Her eyes flew open and tentacles, antennae and alien faces filled her vision all with hot, eager beady staring eyes and one set of fears flew out of the window and a new set settled rapidly on her shoulders.
It was like being doused with a bucket of ice and Rose instantly froze on his lap. It took her a moment to recover from the after-effects of the rapture he’d inspired in her but once it was gone, cold, hard reality settled on her like a lead balloon.
Oh, God, what had she been doing?
What had she been about to do? She felt a sick surge to her stomach as she realized exactly how far she’d been gone.
She’d blocked out the music, the smoke, the bar and the bloody aliens!
She shook her head in glazed shock and felt panic start to settle in.
The Doctor knew from the way that Rose had frozen rigid in his lap that she had come to her senses and he regretted that more than she would ever know.
He tried to maintain his hold on her but Rose was pushing at the hands that cupped her breast and that rested at her waist. She slapped at them and tried to pry his fingers away in her unease but he tightened his grip.
“Rose!” he tried to soothe.
“Let go!” she all but sobbed.
“I will,” he promised, trying to convince his hands that that would be a good idea. They weren’t convinced as they quite liked having handfuls of Rose Tyler, thank you very much.
He struggled to hold onto the frantically writhing girl in his arms and had to be content with pulling her back, hard.
It wasn’t as erotic as the first time and Rose just wanted to escape.
“Rose,” he tried to stifle the way his body begged to take hers and focus on the situation at hand. Unfortunately the situation at hand was still wriggling in his lap. “Rose, stop it or neither one of us is leaving here with dignity intact.”
He pushed up to show her what he meant and he felt her still as his words penetrated.
Ok, he thought, closing his eyes. Possibly not the best word to use there.
“If you bolt away now everyone is going to know that there is something wrong. The music, I think, is almost done. I need you ...” didn’t he just “I need you to get up slowly and make your way back onto that stage and off out the back, can you do that for me?”
“No,” she replied in a small voice. “Not unless there’s a shot gun waiting for me back there.”
“No shot gun,” he said. “But there is hot chocolate and cake and even tea back at the TARDIS. And chocolate; Cadburys!”
Rose sniffed, fighting back tears of embarrassment.
“Be strong, Rose. You can do this.”
It took Rose every last inch of pride and determination, every last scrap of bravado that she possessed to kick her legs into position and stand up.
She bent slowly to pick up the discarded opera gloves and used to motion to drag herself back together.
She felt herself sway unsteadily but hoped it just looked like part of the dance as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, making her way back under the intense lights and into everyone’s view.
As she reached the centre stage she forced herself to give one last twirl and dredged a smile from somewhere before disappearing behind the curtain and sagging against the thick velvet-like material.
The music stopped and it sounded like a riot had broken out with whistles and shrills, barks and cat-calls, screeching and applause coming from the crowds.
Rose closed her eyes as thick, hot tears of mortification swelled in her eyes and dripped down her face.
The Doctor had never been as proud of Rose as he had when she had managed to complete the dance with poise, grace and dignity. Only someone who knew her as well as he did— and don’t we know her a little bit better now? — could have seen the falseness of her smile and the hint of tears in her eyes.
The approval of the crowd at the display went unremarked upon by him but for the tightening of his hands into fists.
The Dek’lrggs grinned widely at him as the applause died down.
“Pleased are we with the creature’s aptitude, pleased you are too, hmm? Perhaps we buy her?”
“Rose is not for sale,” he snarled. “Am I free to go now?”
“Yes.” They waved a flipper at him. “But perhaps gamble you should not. Not so lucky as you think, hmm?”
A ghost of his old grin rose to his lips as he thought of Rose writhing in his lap. “Oh, I don’t know.”
He stood up and left the table, his hands in his pockets and an odd expression on his face.
He waited outside in the biting cold for Rose, trying to think up something to say to her, something bright and witty and certain to make her laugh, ease the tension and yet still keep her from retreating from him.
And if he was really, really lucky maybe even prompting a repeat performance back in the safety of the TARDIS.
Magic words, brilliant words, he had the gift of the gab, really shouldn’t be so hard…
Rose stepped out into the evening air, her shoulders hunched into her white tank top and over shirt.
Her face was almost devoid of make-up proclaiming that she had most probably cried it away and he felt a pang in his hearts. Poor Rose.
Something to cheer her up, some magic words, anything.
She looked up and folded her arms across her chest. “’lo.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Right, I think I owe you a cup of tea.”
Rose nodded and he started to reach out to take her hand but she had already started walking ahead of him with her arms firmly wrapped around herself.
He let his hand fall back to his side and sighed.
They walked back to the TARDIS in silence, both lost in thought.
As the doors to the blue box closed behind then Rose waited anxiously to hear the Doctor’s lead. He’d say something like “where to next?” or “so, onwards and forwards, or backwards”; something trite and pathetic to let her know that this was just another one of those things that they would never talk about.
Like what happened on Satellite 5 or the kiss that Cassandra forced them into, or Jack, or a million other things that he didn’t want to deal with.
“Rose? Are you all right?”
She blinked. Ok, that was unexpected. She painted a smile on her face and turned to him, not quite able to look him in the eye just yet.
“Yep, right as rain. Could do with a couple of hour’s kip and then good as new. In fact I’m gonna turn in now, yeah?”
She turned to leave only to have her hand caught by the Doctor.
“I’m fine!” she insisted, not looking at him.
“Then look at me.”
Rose’s courage had been used up at the tavern and she was running on empty.
She stared at the metal grilled floor and blinked fast, hoping to keep the tears at bay.
“Rose?” he said softly. “Come on.”
She still couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes and he sighed trying to think of a way to make her feel better.
“You know,” he said casually, “they wanted to buy you. You were really good.”
Rose gave sound that sounded like a snort.
“I mean it; you could have a real career in it if the travelling thing doesn’t work out.”
Rose turned, incredulous. “So if you dump me back on Earth at least I can be a … a … pole dancer?”
He realised that that was, possibly, not exactly what he’d meant to say, and, possibly, not the most tactful of things to say at any rate.
“Ah, yes. Well,” he reached up to scratch the back of his head, “It’s important to have options. But it’s all mute anyway, Rose, I’m not going to dump you back on Earth.”
“Good,” she sniffed.
He looked around the TARDIS trying to get inspiration for what he wanted to say, or at least trying to find some non-sleazy way of saying “Hey, you know that lap dance you gave me? Fancy doing it again, only naked this time?”
“Tea!” he erupted again, a smile starting. “I promised you tea.”
“You promised me chocolate.”
“Yes, but you have to earn chocolate.”
Rose gaped at him. “I think I bloody well earned it!”
“Weeell,” he rocked backwards on his heels. “There’s only one way of knowing that for sure.”
“Repeat performance?” he tried tentatively biting his lip and staring at her out of the corner of his eye.
Rose’s mouth was hanging open. “Wha--?” she managed.
“I just thought, you know, since you were so good at it and seemed to enjoy it at the time that maybe, you weren’t necessarily adverse to, you know, maybe giving me a second chance to really get into the nuances of the performance.”
A shocked expression crossed Rose’s face, replaced with something a little more sceptical. “Are you having me on?”
“Are you taking the piss?”
“No. And urgh!” he wrinkled his nose. “That’s such a human turn of phrase. Nowhere else in the galaxy uses that. I tried to use it on Delores Prime and nearly got shot for sedition.” He took a deep breath. “Besides, why would you think I’m joking, or taking the—no, I really can’t use that phrase.”
“Because you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t see me like that.”
“I have?” he was totally shocked at that. He thought he’d been blatantly and possibly embarrassingly clear that he did think of her like that.
All the time.
“Well, you never kissed me back when Cassandra took over, you walked off with Sarah-Jane, flirted with that Hydrangea on Flitterbloom, spent most of Jackie’s 40th in the kitchen with Lucy an’ we’re not even talking about the space station and the French Lady.” Rose shrugged. “I can take a hint ya know. Big no-go signs.”
“For one it was Cassandra and not you and yes, I knew something was different, plus,” he said sulkily, “I’d just come out of regeneration so it would have taken a few seconds for me to react. It didn’t last long enough. Secondly Sarah-Jane is an old friend no romantic feelings there at all. Thirdly it was Hydrange-ola and she was secreting some pretty powerful hormones,” off Rose’s look he hurried on. “Lucy was just being helpful and Reinette…” he trailed off.
Rose just smiled softly. “S’okay. She was special.”
“I lost my head,” he admitted. “And you can’t say you’ve never done the same—Jack, Adam, that barbarian on the boat.”
“Captain Jack Sparrow!” Rose enunciated each word. “In real life! Even you wouldn’t have turned him down.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. But just because I get distracted sometimes doesn’t mean I’m not interested, Rose.”
“So, you’re saying you are interested?” She put her tongue between her teeth and looked up at him coquettishly.
The Doctor leaned over and brushed her lips with his own, so very gently but fast enough that she couldn’t catch them.
“Very interested,” he said and Rose couldn’t help the shudder at his deep voice. “So, fancy giving me another lap dance?”
Rose glanced into his deep brown eyes and saw the sincerity there. Somewhere between the stilettos and the Basque the Doctor had lost his inhibitions and he wanted her. Really wanted her.
Rose laughed and spread her arms wide. “Haven’t got the outfit anymore.”
The Doctor smiled slowly, seductively. “Oh, you won’t need it.”
Rose’s blood heated up, starting to pump through her veins faster and faster, her breathing coming heavier. “Why’s that?”
“Because,” he reached into his coat and pulled out his prize. “I have this!”
Rose burst out laughing, a breathless with anticipation type laughter, as she plucked the prize from his fingers and turned to race down the TARDIS corridors to his room, the Doctor hot on her heels.
It’s surprising exactly how many uses one very imaginative Time Lord could get out of a feather.