lone_defender | (no subject)

Current Mood: depressed

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Jack didn't find her.

Neither did the Doctor.

If they had, she'd probably have recovered faster, but it was for the best that they didn't. Sometimes, she needed to scold herself and pull her own self together, without the benefit of someone offering her comfort. She'd botched the one chance she'd have to see her family again, and it was entirely her fault.

Now she had to make sure she hadn't lost her Doctor, too, when she'd finally found him again.

It was a few hours, perhaps, by the time she found herself standing in the doorway of the Doctor's bedroom. Of what was her bedroom longer than her other's had been. She didn't step inside, but she did speak. "I'm so sorry."

She'd taken to saying that so often now, she almost couldn't remember the days he had.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh and he'd caught her saying the word she tried not to use anymore. She was awful today. Really.

"Think I can manage not to strangle you." She offered him a soft smile. "Hello, Doctor."

Shifting a little closer to her on the bed, the Doctor cupped her cheek and inched closer until there noses were touching.

"Can I kiss you?"

She really needed to stop thinking, because it was becoming a broken record. Skipping over and over again.

She forced out a soft laugh. "S'long as you promise you're not a dream." Because if this were, it would be horribly cruel.

"I'm not a dream," he said softly as he reached under her jacket and shirt, fingers brushing her skin before he pinched her softly, laughing at the same time. "I'm right here, see."

And before she could say anything, the Doctor pulled her closer and kissed her.

That pinch earned a startled yelp, and it might have become a laugh at the absurdity of pinching her to make sure she was awake, but for the interruption.

Not that she ever particularly minded being interrupted by a kiss. Much. Better than being interrupted in the middle of an argument, anyway.

As they kissed the TARDIS hummed happily, lights in his room dimming to a soft warm glow. One hand tangled in her hair as the over came to rest at the small of her back, her kiss deepening as he drew their bodies closer.

It didn't seem strange at all for the TARDIS to put in her contribution. She was a part of her-and the Doctor-and always was. It made sense that she'd put forth her thoughts.

But that was about as far as she stopped to think about it, because the Doctor--hers, not just any. Hers. And no, she hadn't moved on. Not ever. If there was one thing unchanged from the Rose before Canary Wharf and now, it was her love for her Doctor.

Oh, how he liked kissing her. Lips parting, tongues dancing against on another while hands held on firm. The Doctor broke the kiss only long enough to catch his breath. Soon her lips were back on his in a heated kiss.

Wandering hands moved to push off her jacket and toss it to the floor before he held her once more, "Promise me you'll stay in here, in our room."

Oh, he wanted promises after he'd scrambled her brain? Of course he did. Because he was the Doctor, and he was probably completely lucid and running over...equations or something. The thought only amused her.

Still, he'd said something that demanded an answer. "Always. Always here, Doctor." It was dangerously close to the 'forever' she'd said and lost before.

"How'd you feel about camping out in here for the rest of the day?" The question was asked between kisses. Oh he couldn't get enough of these kisses.

She gave a soft, easy laugh at that. "S'cozy here." She didn't mind his fixation on kisses.

"Mmmmhmmm," he muttered as he kicked off his boots, then pulled off his jacket and tie, getting a little more comfortable. Moving to rest his head on his pillow, the Doctor reached out his arms to her, "Come here."

She'd fallen asleep boots and jacket on, whether out of exhaustion or a lack of a drive to bother not to, that it hardly occurred to her to kick off her own. The bed had seen much worse, anyway.

For now, she was happy just to crawl next to himand take one day-night-whichever the TARDIS left them with-to herself. Just this moment with her Doctor, after so long. She'd earned it, hadn't she?

The moment she was in his arms, the Doctor held her close, kissing her soft and slow. "So beautiful."

The Doctor would have to forgive her lack of articulation. The day left her entirely overwhelmed, and he'd just have to make do with an appreciative murmur. She could tell him he wasn't so shabby himself, and that she was already picking out little differences about him that she'd remember--and never confuse him for any other versions--another time.

Preferably before it all crashed down on her head. Never say never, never say forever.

As they kissed, the Doctor pulled her over him, he'd seen it happen in some movie or another. Soft hands moved up her legs, over her thighs and under her top. Shaking fingers curled around the material of her top, pulling back as to ask permission.

Easier watched than done, really, but she managed well enough. Torchwood training was good for something, after all. As Jack had cheekily pointed out before.

The pause wasn't exactly enough to fit together all the pieces of her mind that he'd scattered when he'd turned talking--arguing more like--into snogging and using words Doctors never used. Not completely, anyway. But it was enough to think. Whether the line they were walking should be crossed. Now or ever when there wasn't forever.

Six years ago, she couldn't have. Maybe it was best it wasn't six years ago. It didn't need to be forever (Oh though she wanted it), as long as it was something. Six years moved nervous hesitation to a bitten lip and a slight nod.

At the nod he drew in a very deep breath and pulled her top up. The sight of her soft pale skin made him shudder and start to swell. Those round ample breasts, soft and inviting.

Over the past few years the Doctor had had many a dream about all of this, finding his Rose and being with her.

With the top gone, the Doctor just looked her over, shaking hands moving up her side as he drew her close and into another kiss.

Dreamed, imagined, wished for. Oh, she had her fair share of scenarios involving this (though most did not involve boots on the sheets) but never did she actually believe in any of them.

She knew this one wasn't a dream, She'd never have come up with that look on her own. And she was entirely thankful she wasn't expected to come up with any responses, because, as the Doctor seemed to have gained a talent for, the reality of it swept away any words she might've had.

His hands moved over her skin while they kissed. Soft touches and strokes of her body, or at least until his hands stopped at the back of her bra. For about five minutes he kissed her, trying to unhook the danm thing without being able too.

Finally, groaning, he pulled back to see what he was trying to undo. He could save worlds, defeat dalek and cybermen, but he couldn't unhook a simple bra.

She'd tried hard not to squirm or laugh at his failed attempts to undo that particular clasped bra. She managed until he outright complained about it. She couldn't help an amused snort, and nudging his hands away.

"Let me. S'a 60th century clasp." Because it was amazing how often 21st century clasps caused problems when she was out on her own. They snapped and came loose far too easily.

Honestly, it was the first time the Doctor had ever heard Rose speak and he didn't listen to a word she said. The moment the clasp was undone, the bra was gone. "Rose..." He moaned her name as he pressed kisses to her neck and should, one hand brushing up his side to her chest.

Light fingers curved under the swell, before he took it into his hand, massaging it softly. Oh, the moan that came from his lips as they kissed.

And as he pulled her closer, lips brushing down her neck, she should be feeling just how much attention he was giving her.

Well he was lucky this was one of the few times Rose didn't mind his ignoring her. Well, she'd have taken quite a bit of issue with his ignoring her completely, but the words, those she could understand. She'd taken to talking much more often than she used to, anyway.

Another quirk of his she'd embraced in the hope of it bringing her one step closer to him. Metaphorically, or perhaps literally. Didn't matter now, though, did it? Because he was here, and neither was needed any more.

And he certainly wasn't ignoring her, was he? She couldn't remember if she'd been about to say something again before they cut into a soft gasp at the brush across her neck. She hoped so. She could plead surprise for it.

Oh Rose, Oh...Rose. All the Doctor could think was her, how soft her skin was, how she tasked like fruit and spring and hope and love. And how he couldn't taste enough of her.

While his lips continued to taste her skin, he took her hands and guided them to his shirt. Off,, he spoke in her head, Take it and the t-shirt off.

There was a reason why he'd not spoken those words with his lips, that would be because they were busy wrapping themselves around her breast, the rough pad of his tongue grazing her nipple.

Oh, oh they were going to have a talk about this speaking in her head thing later. She couldn't decide yet if it was wonderful or terrifying, but it was so new and different, like everything else, it was almost like he'd regenerated some time while he was gone and the only thing he'd kept was his face.

She couldn't find it in herself to protest the words or their request. Later, then.

For now, she bit her lip and focused on getting his shirt free without ruining it. Which'd have been easier if he'd sat still for her to.