Show/Ship: Doctor Who/ NineRose
Prompt: #11- Too cute
Disclaimer: I'm a tree from the forests of Cheem. I have bark for hair. Trust me, when I say i've got a bad hair day, we're talking nesting here!
Summary: Jack sees something but he doesn't want to interrupt
A/N- Happy!Who fic from my new table.
Jack had been officially invited to be a part of the crew of the good ship TARDIS and Rose and the Doctor had allowed him his pick of planets to celebrate.
Jack had, of course, chosen the most hedonistic and voyeuristic planet in existence and they had, of course, been finally chased away by rampaging hoards.
Rose had asked the Doctor, quite calmly; why it was that they could never leave a planet sedately and with an open invitation to return.
The Doctor muttered something about the lack of appreciation of inferior species and told her to go make the tea while he tried to get the smell of sacrificial smoke from his leather jacket.
Jack left them alone to shower the scent of burning torches out of his hair and select a t-shirt that was slightly less restrictive; appearance was one thing but he did need to breathe on occasion, and walked down the corridor towel-drying his hair.
He heard voices coming from the kitchen and grinned as he smelled the delicious scent of warm toast and honey.
There were sounds of busy activity in the kitchen and he was well versed with their particular routine enough to know that, if he went in now, he’d be drafted into some extremely well subterfuge ‘non-domestic’ domestic task.
Like setting the table.
The Doctor could protest all he wanted, but when it came to Rose Tyler, he was house-broken.
Jack edged around the door and peered in to see what stage they were at.
The Doctor stood at the counter, his leather jacket strewn haphazardly over one chair, and his long arms reaching for the tea mugs whilst the kettle whistled merrily.
Rose stood by his side with three tea-bags, dropping them in as soon as he placed them down and turning back to slide the dial down on the toaster.
The Doctor reached into the fridge to get out both the milk and butter and, without looking, slid the latter down the counter where Rose caught it without even glancing down.
Jack leaned against the door frame with a grin at that and watched further as the Doctor reached above Rose’s head to open the cabinet and pass her a jar of some description and dropped a small kiss on her hair.
Rose beamed up at him as she passed him the sugar and spoons.
The toast was done just as the kettle clicked and the Doctor poured the boiling water as Rose spread the bread.
Then, almost as if choreographed, Rose placed the plates on the table and danced around the Doctor who added the tea.
They sat down simultaneously and picked up their tea at the same time.
They sipped, sighed, and sat back, eyes half-closed at the euphoric taste of tannins and free-radicals.
They grinned at each other and then Rose hunkered down in her chair, pulling her feet up and tucking them into the Doctor’s lap.
He pretended annoyance but even Jack could see that he didn’t mind as he began to tickle and massage her feet.
With a frown he pronounced her an idiot for walking around the cold TARDIS with no shoes and grabbed his leather jacket, slinging it over both lap and feet to keep her warm. Then, as she thanked him, he leaned over and stole a slice of her toast.
Rose complained, like Jack knew she would, but it was only surface, the glow on her face told him that she didn’t really mind.
The Doctor gave her a grin that would have melted glaciers and asked her a question about her planetary preferences.
Rose answered and they shared a smile at some of her reminisces.
Jack could have walked in at that point, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn’t ask him to do something work-related, he could have made his presence felt and been welcomed as a member of their trio.
But he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to break the fragile bubble that the two of them denied that they held around them.
He didn’t want to stop Rose poking her tongue out in teasing merriment, or the way the Doctor would eye it like he wanted to bite down himself.
He didn’t want to intrude on the casual yet meaningful conversation as they talked about everything and nothing and filed it all away as essential information.
He didn’t want to stand in the way of the Doctor’s timid yet factual titbit of information about his past and the way Rose’s whole face lit up at the implicit trust.
He didn’t want to obstruct the possible furthering of their relationship as Rose leaned over to offer the Doctor a bite of her last slice of toast. Nor did he want to interrupt as the Doctor’s pearly white teeth closed around the crunchy bread, his eyes on Rose’s as he bit down.
He didn’t want to impede Rose’s halting breath or the way her eyes flickered down to the Doctor’s mouth and vice versa.
He didn’t want to hinder the tender way the Doctor reached up to brush a piece of hair behind Rose’s ear or the way he cupped her cheek as he leaned forward.
He didn’t want to get in the way or cause the Doctor to be embarrassed at the way that Rose caught his hand and held it over the table, their fingers entwined.
Jack knew that if he stepped into the room they would welcome him.
They would drop hands and Rose would get her feet out of the Doctor’s lap.
The teasing glances would be spread to include Jack and would lose all of their intensity.
The banter would become quicker and less sweet, less intimate.
The moment would be lost and their tentative steps would falter.
Jack stepped back slowly and turned, making his way back down the hall to his room.
It had been a while since he had seen two people so seriously in love and yet so seriously denying it as Rose and the Doctor and, more than anything, he wanted them to admit it; to have that relationship that they were dangling on the precipice of. Their love gave him the faith that such love still existed but, more than that, it gave him hope for the universe, a hope he thought he’d lost with two years of his memories.
He would take whatever moments that the Doctor and Rose were too blind to see and treasure them.
He could butt in but he didn’t want to; he wanted to allow them the time to see what they could become and for them to cherish those stolen moments as much as he did.
He had all sorts of altruistic, logical, rational and even selfish reasons for walking away but the truth of the matter was:
Rose and the Doctor were in love and they were just too damn cute to interrupt.