lone_defender | (no subject)

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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.

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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.

But the Doctor couldn't help it, his mind was filled with Roseness and so was his mouth. How else could he tell her things? His hands lowered so she could remove his shirt, and frankly he didn't care if it ripped. It'd been the one he'd worn when he fell through the rift.

And being with Rose was more important.

Once the shirt and the t-shirt were gone, the Doctor pullerd Rose to him. Bare chest against bare chest, kissing her hard and deep. Soon they were back to laying down, her back on the bed this time, him laying over her, between her legs, as they kissed. Hips to hips the Doctor pressed down against her, needing the friction against his tight pants.

Most people would generally pick one or the other. Of course, the Doctor wasn't most people, so why would he do something like that? Still, he could have eased her into the whole voice in her head thing. Or the concept that he could read her thoughts.

Again. Worries for another time. Worries for when he wasn't so urgently close and she'd finished running worn (but never scarred, nanogenes never allow scars) fingers along cool skin.

He moaned against her lips at the feel of her hands on his skin. She'd never felt so good under his hand in his life. But this was the difference, this wasn't hald holding, he was the woman he'd loved for so long almost naked below him.

"Tell me," he whispered against her ear, "Tell me if you ever want me to stop." Because unless he told her too, the Doctor didn't think he'd be able too. Not ever. Fingers roamed her skin as his lips teased and nipped her neck, stopping when they came to the waist of her jeans. Waiting for permission.

Oh, please. She'd made her decision already--long ago, and again much more recently--and she wasn't about to go back on that. She couldn't imagine wanting to anymore.

"Doctor..." She slid her hands down to rest on his wrists. "S'been eight years. Stop waiting." Because it occurred to her now that she might go a bit more crazy than she already was if he kept up his hesitation. She was an absolute sort of woman now.

Edited 2010-04-08 12:44 (UTC)

He smiled down at her then, nodding slowly, "As long as you're sure." Nervous hands started to unfasten her jeans, hands that moved to push them down as far as he could, having to sit up to pull them off the rest of the way. Looking down at her, she was only in her panties, the Doctor gasped softly. "Oh Rose."

She smiled back rather than answer, because her interest in conversation was waning considerably quickly. They'd have much more time to speak later. Later, once he'd realized she really was different now. Maybe even if he chose to exile her from the TARDIS.

She pushed herself up on an elbow, and reached up to touch his cheek softly. It was better than fidgeting and flushing under his scrutiny like she was tempted to. "Doctor..."

Of course he was different too. Before he'd never have let her into his bed, let alone be getting her naked. With her jeans gone, he moved to push off her panties too. Lips meeting his once more he groaned, finally seeing Rose in all her beauty.

"You're amazing."

Maybe what some had said before was true. They were the lucky ones. Maybe all that pain and suffering would work out for the best. They'd been given a chance to grow and change and maybe it could have been for the better?

The Doctor was always so good at making her believe that.

She bit her lip, offering a small smile. She was hardly unfamiliar with compliments--outright flirtatious ones were practically Jack's only vocabulary--but they were much more difficult to brush off coming from her Doctor. "Y'know its...all that running. Good for somethin', yeah?"

"All that running."

That just made him grin, moving towards her his lips found hers in a soft kiss, "I love running, but not as much as I love kissing you." Moving to lay down on the bed, the Doctor laid her down and looked her over before pressing soft kisses to her stomach.

"Oh, Rose."

So much more running than before. And sometimes it wasn't running. Sometimes it was standing and fighting when the Doctor might have run, just because she couldn't come up with a clever plan to avoid it.

Her laugh at his comment stuttered at his touch, but she was still focused on not reddening like someone much younger than herself at his compliments.

Kissing her stomach he smiled at her laugh, so loving the sound of it. But as he kissed he wondered which way to go. Up to those soft, amazing lips, or down to places never tasted?

Nipping at her side he glanced up and grinned, kissing lower as he pushed her legs apart. And then he did something he loved to do. Leaning down the Doctor ran his tongue across her folds, moaning at the taste of her. How he loved to lick things, and Rose was now at the top of his list.

She lost...whatever it was she was thinking in a harsh gasp. Fingers caught the sheet beneath her, and...how and when had he gotten rid of those mud-caked boots?

She couldn't begin to remember.