fic; doctor who: Firefighting.
title: Firefighting.
co-author: gallifreyburning!
fandom: Doctor Who.
pairing: 10.5/Rose.
rating: PG-13
words: 2,788.
notes: This was part of a fic tennis experiment with gallifreyburning and allrightfine (that's me!) over on Tumblr -- we passed a fic back and forth every (approximately) 200 words, using the picture under the cut as a prompt. (For a version with the breakdown of who wrote what, you can read it on Tumblr here, too!)
summary: A business trip, a slightly burnt flat, and several different attempts to have a proper reunion.
It's the longest they've been separated since they arrived back in this world. Barely a week, but somehow it feels longer. Somehow it feels like ages since the morning she'd left, the Doctor chasing her around the kitchen in his boxers and pinning her to the counter with his hips.
Legs stretched in front of her as far as they'd go in cramped zeppelin seating, she'd fingered the foil edges of her packet of peanuts, decidedly not partaking. Who'd decided on garlic seasoning for a cramped cabin and the promise of reunion kisses? What she wouldn't give for something honey-roasted.
She'd tried to imagine seeing him again, would it be in slow motion? Romantic comedies and indie rock? Or frantic and hurried and flashes from the paparazzi?
So, really, she's not prepared at all for him to be in the passenger lounge, arm slung peculiarly over his head and for her first words to be about his clothes, but she can't stop it, bubbling out and -
"What's with the shoes?"
Of course it isn't just the lack of Chucks - it's the t-shirt and jeans, too, and before he can answer her first question she jokingly babbles on, "Did the flat burn down with your blue suit inside or something?"
He bounds out of his chair - Arcade Fire plays in her head, definitely a romantic comedy - and he stoppers her questions with his mouth, tongue confident as it slides past her lips; he's shameless and eager, all but taking her in a manly fashion on the cold tiles of the dirigible port. And as much as he doesn't look like himself, he certainly tastes and feels and smells like her Doctor.
When he pulls away, there's a crowd of ten or so people staring, a few of them with camera-phones, and dammit this is going to end up on the internet, the Vitex heiress and her beau making a spectacle of themselves. Pete's not going to be happy.
"It was a small fire," the Doctor says, oblivious to the crowd and loud enough for the camera-phones to pick up. "Wellllllllll, small-ish to medium. Medium-ish. I wasn't in the suit when it burned, if that's any comfort."
Rose steps back a little, trying to put enough space between them that not every photo will look like two people trying to merge into one. She squints at him, checking for any sign of harm, and then raises up to ruffle the top of his head.
"No, clearly. All that product in your hair? You'd have gone up first," she nudges his side and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, steering her toward the exit.
"Did you have a good trip?" He squeezes her tighter to him, "I missed you, you know."
"I did, felt like more than a week. I appreciated all the voicemails though - you singing along to the "Cheers' theme song was a personal favorite."
"It's not the same watching television without you," he sighs and Rose imagines it's because watching television always turns into snogging on the couch.
"I still can't believe that's not an American show here. I suppose the idea of wanting to go where everyone knows your name is a universal one. Well, except on -"
If she doesn't stop him, he's going keep it up the whole way home and she's going to walk into a potentially charred flat with no idea how it got that way.
"Doctor, the fire?"
"Fixable, very very fixable. Nothing to worry about," he replies briskly. They bypass baggage claim, since she's only got her carry-on. They also bypass the taxi and limo pick-up area, heading directly for short-term parking; which means the Doctor drove Rose's car to the dirigible port, he didn't let Jackie send the car and driver. "I've already thought of half a dozen appliances I can build that'll be much better for our kitchen than the generic stove and microwave-things everyone buys off-the-shelf."
"You burned down the kitchen," Rose says, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. The other's around his waist, and she's tempted to use it to poke him in that spot where he's particularly ticklish, if only because she's so exasperated.
"None of the neighbors' flats sustained any damage. They are all lovelypeople, by the way - standing on the street at three in the morning while the firemen do their thing is excellent for neighborly bonding. It's amazing how social barriers break down when everyone's wearing jimjams and houserobes. I invited the Kapoors for dinner, once our kitchen's back up and running. I told them how brilliant I am at making waffles; they couldn't say no, after that."
Tales of the neighbors last all the way out to the car and onto the road. The Doctor's just telling her how old Mr. Bennett from across the hall congratulated him on landing Rose and, "then said some things that I won't repeat, Rose, but maybe don't wear that blue skirt around Mr. Bennett anymore. It is tight and he has noticed," when he drives past the turn for the flat.
"Are we not going home?" She's craning her neck, looking backward as the exit gets smaller and smaller.
The Doctor pulls at his ear, "It's possible - and I'm not saying that I agree with this assessment - that the smoke from the fire caused some damage that perhaps makes our flat a bit of a safety hazard. Just briefly."
Rose's visions of a proper reunion with the Doctor, back in their bed, dissolve. Chin up, she optimistically replaces them with visions of plush hotel mattresses and room service.
"Where'd you book us in then?"
He stops pulling at his ear to scratch at the back of his neck, running right down the list of Doctor-with-anxiety tics.
"Great little place, you might know it - the Tyler Mansion?" He briefly turns his head to look at her sheepishly before making the turn for her parents' house.
"Please tell me," Rose says more tersely than she intends, "you insisted my mum put us in the pool house." Her hopes of a naked weekend and a competitive game of most creative use of ice cream toppings are rapidly vanishing.
"Ohhh, you know how Tony is. He loves it when we're over for supper; he's been over-the-moon that we're staying for a bit. Insisted we have the room right next to his, matter of fact." He sees her expression and goes into his there-are-too-many-words-in-my-big-Time-Lord-brain-and-they-won't-all-fit-out-of-my-mouth stutter. "But there was a thing - no two things - three if you count the round of Monopoly I lost - and -"
"It's all right," Rose says, burying her face in her hands as they pull past the security gate and into the front drive.
He brings the car to a stop and turns to look at her hopefully. "You mean you forgive me for burning down the flat?"
"I mean that you're the one who's going to tell my mum and Tony that we're moving into the pool house. And you're going to have to come up with a reason to explain why."
His lips are moving the whole walk up to the house, face shifting into different expressions, presumably rehearsing the best way to break the news to Tony.
Moments after Jackie opens the door and sweeps Rose up into a hug, it's clear that the Doctor won't have to do any news-breaking after all - Jackie announces she'd already moved their stuff to the pool house.
"You two haven't seen each other for a week! You think I need my sweet, innocent boy exposed to those noises?" Jackie pins Rose with a disapproving look before turning it on the Doctor.
"Mum!" Rose blushes despite herself.
"Don't give me that, Rose Tyler!" Jackie's voice pitches higher, imitating her daughter's, "'I don't know where these bruises on my neck came from, Mum!'"
The Doctor looks momentarily proud before both women glare at him, Rose shifting to step on his foot for good measure.
Jackie walks them through the house, grumbling the whole way. "Next you'll try and convince me that photo of the two of you with your skirt pushed up in the alley was just this one," she thumbs at the Doctor, "Checking for ticks."
The Doctor has the good sense to blush this time, "Well, you know, very tick-y population, London," and he all but sprints out the door to the pool house.
Rose gives her mum a final hug and an apologetic look before setting off after him, the sound of her mum's voice fading behind her -
"Tea in 15 minutes! Tony is expecting to see you!"
The Doctor flings the door of the pool house open and turns around at a dead stop, so that Rose crashes into him. He's mumbling things into her skin as he kisses her, lips seeking bare flesh, long fingers yanking on her shirt to expose more.
"Missed you," he says, making short work of the buttons down her front. "Does this count as make-up sex? It did occur to me that make-up sex might be an unintended side effect, since I burned down the flat."
"We have to have the angry sex first. Because I am unhappy about the kitchen. All our dishes and the good saki. And your suit. Gone," Rose gasps as his tongue finds the spot on her neck. That spot.
He hums in agreement as she fumbles with the front of his trousers. "If it helps with the angry bit, I should tell you that your laptop and your collector's edition boxset of Cheers were also ruined." She's not fumbling anymore, she's glaring, and with a yank, the button pops right off his trousers and skitters across the floor.
"Angry sex, then make-up sex," the Doctor says happily. "Then we can move on to the welcome-home sex. Then there's -"
Whatever else there is, Rose doesn't get to find out because of the knocking noise at the nearest window.
It's just a random enough pattern that Rose can tell it's Tony - the sound of little fingers hitting at the window as he jumps to be able to reach.
Her theory is confirmed when the knocking moves to the door, followed by her brother's voice.
"Rose, you're home! You're home! Mum said you'd be at tea, but I couldn't wait, the Doctor built me a fort! Would you like to play in the fort? Come play, Rose!"
It's not lost on her that the rambling speech patterns of a five-year-old match those of the man currently dropping to the ground to find the button of his trousers.
She buttons up her shirt swiftly, toeing the button across the wooden floor to the Doctor, and gesturing for him to do something.
He stands and moves the button to his trousers, lost without a way to reattach it, and then stares at Rose helplessly, "What - what should I do?"
She glares at him as Tony knocks again, "Change your trousers!" As an afterthought she gestures to his fly, "And get that under control."
The Doctor shuffles through the drawers and pulls out his new clothing, scampering off to the bathroom as Rose opens the door for her brother.
Jackie is barreling up the walk behind him, staring pointedly at Rose's shirt front - damn, she skipped a button.
"Tony saw your car pull up and couldn't be contained," Jackie said as Rose made short work of the skipped button. "You know how he is, when the Doctor's around." Jackie sucks on her teeth and narrows her eyes before calling to the empty room behind Rose: "How long did that contractor say till your flat is fixed, Doctor?"
"Er, um, contractor?" comes a reply from behind the closed bathroom door. "He said something about a month."
"Is the Doctor sick?" Tony asks, bounding into the room and toward the source of the voice. Rose catches him by the shoulder before he flings open the door and things get even more awkward. Spinning Tony around, she sweeps him into a hug.
"You didn't even say hallo to your sister," Rose chides, tickling him mercilessly. He's squealing and wiggling. "Tell me about this fort of yours that the Doctor built."
"'S awesome!" he giggles. "'S got a perception-something, and Mum and Dad don't know where it is. Even I can only find it sometimes."
"Perception filter?" Rose asks. "He made you a fort with a perception filter on it?"
"I can't find Tony half the time," Jackie sighed. "It's like he vanishes. And let's be clear: when you both move out of here in a month, you're taking the perception-whatsit with you."
And suddenly Rose knows exactly where she's going to take the Doctor after tea.
Because they're them and they have their luck, tea turns into an hours-long affair, with awkward conversation topics ranging from: "Why Rose just shrieked" to "Doctor, you get your hand out from under the table and off my daughter right this second."
There are also some stern looks.
By the time they're finally winding down, Tony is asleep curled up in the Doctor's lap - a place Jackie deliberately set the boy after a bit of encore yelping on Rose's part. Her mum and Pete announce they're going to bed and that the Doctor and Rose can get Tony settled in bed, as penance.
Tony goes down, thankfully, without a fuss, snuffling into his pillow as Rose creeps after the Doctor out of the room.
Then he's yanking her down the stairs and into the supply pantry, usually reserved for bulk food and drinks for parties, but now littered with children's toys and a pile of blankets and pillows.
She whirls on him as soon as the door's closed and he bites off a groan as Rose skips the lead up and goes straight to cupping him through his trousers.
"Is this the angry sex?" He drops his head back against the wood with a groan before quickly recovering to latch his mouth at the join of her neck and shoulder.
"This is the right now sex," and she moves her hand out of the way to grind her hips into his, stuttering in her movements as she feels his teeth on her skin.
"You look ridiculous in this t-shirt," she says, yanking it off over his head. His hair is more out-of-control than usual; it looks like a wild animal, startled by something. "Whatever made you buy t-shirts instead of another suit?"
His hands are at her hips, fingers digging into skin as he encourages her movements. "Jake took me shopping," he gasps into her neck, his entire body arched down toward her. Without warning he shifts his grip, grabbing her by the arse and lifting her up, moving forward until her back lands against the opposite wall and she squeaks in surprise.
Her legs wrap around him, her hands find purchase in his gloriously rumpled hair, and she tries pulling his mouth to hers again, but he resists. She blinks at him, arching her eyebrows at him as he studies her face.
"I couldn't sleep while you were gone. I burned down the kitchen at three in the morning trying to cook crepes, the banana ones you make for me when I'm restless in the middle of the night." He leans his forehead to hers and closes his eyes with a long sigh, tip of his nose brushing her cheek. "I missed you, Rose."
"I woke up crying the second night," she replies quietly, fingertips rubbing his scalp. "Because I had a dream you'd never come back here with me. I thought you were still over there, on the other side, locked away."
Rose presses little kisses to the corner of his mouth, sucking gently on his bottom lip. His hips are moving against her, his hands tearing at buttons, and he gasps, "Can this be the no-more-business-trips sex?"
"Yeah, Doctor," Rose replies. "Yeah, it can."
After the no-more-business-trips sex in the supply pantry, they only barely make it back to the pool house for the angry sex. And then the make-up sex. And after that, Rose makes the Doctor banana crepes.
&&.
co-author: gallifreyburning!
fandom: Doctor Who.
pairing: 10.5/Rose.
rating: PG-13
words: 2,788.
notes: This was part of a fic tennis experiment with gallifreyburning and allrightfine (that's me!) over on Tumblr -- we passed a fic back and forth every (approximately) 200 words, using the picture under the cut as a prompt. (For a version with the breakdown of who wrote what, you can read it on Tumblr here, too!)
summary: A business trip, a slightly burnt flat, and several different attempts to have a proper reunion.
It's the longest they've been separated since they arrived back in this world. Barely a week, but somehow it feels longer. Somehow it feels like ages since the morning she'd left, the Doctor chasing her around the kitchen in his boxers and pinning her to the counter with his hips.
Legs stretched in front of her as far as they'd go in cramped zeppelin seating, she'd fingered the foil edges of her packet of peanuts, decidedly not partaking. Who'd decided on garlic seasoning for a cramped cabin and the promise of reunion kisses? What she wouldn't give for something honey-roasted.
She'd tried to imagine seeing him again, would it be in slow motion? Romantic comedies and indie rock? Or frantic and hurried and flashes from the paparazzi?
So, really, she's not prepared at all for him to be in the passenger lounge, arm slung peculiarly over his head and for her first words to be about his clothes, but she can't stop it, bubbling out and -
"What's with the shoes?"
Of course it isn't just the lack of Chucks - it's the t-shirt and jeans, too, and before he can answer her first question she jokingly babbles on, "Did the flat burn down with your blue suit inside or something?"
He bounds out of his chair - Arcade Fire plays in her head, definitely a romantic comedy - and he stoppers her questions with his mouth, tongue confident as it slides past her lips; he's shameless and eager, all but taking her in a manly fashion on the cold tiles of the dirigible port. And as much as he doesn't look like himself, he certainly tastes and feels and smells like her Doctor.
When he pulls away, there's a crowd of ten or so people staring, a few of them with camera-phones, and dammit this is going to end up on the internet, the Vitex heiress and her beau making a spectacle of themselves. Pete's not going to be happy.
"It was a small fire," the Doctor says, oblivious to the crowd and loud enough for the camera-phones to pick up. "Wellllllllll, small-ish to medium. Medium-ish. I wasn't in the suit when it burned, if that's any comfort."
Rose steps back a little, trying to put enough space between them that not every photo will look like two people trying to merge into one. She squints at him, checking for any sign of harm, and then raises up to ruffle the top of his head.
"No, clearly. All that product in your hair? You'd have gone up first," she nudges his side and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, steering her toward the exit.
"Did you have a good trip?" He squeezes her tighter to him, "I missed you, you know."
"I did, felt like more than a week. I appreciated all the voicemails though - you singing along to the "Cheers' theme song was a personal favorite."
"It's not the same watching television without you," he sighs and Rose imagines it's because watching television always turns into snogging on the couch.
"I still can't believe that's not an American show here. I suppose the idea of wanting to go where everyone knows your name is a universal one. Well, except on -"
If she doesn't stop him, he's going keep it up the whole way home and she's going to walk into a potentially charred flat with no idea how it got that way.
"Doctor, the fire?"
"Fixable, very very fixable. Nothing to worry about," he replies briskly. They bypass baggage claim, since she's only got her carry-on. They also bypass the taxi and limo pick-up area, heading directly for short-term parking; which means the Doctor drove Rose's car to the dirigible port, he didn't let Jackie send the car and driver. "I've already thought of half a dozen appliances I can build that'll be much better for our kitchen than the generic stove and microwave-things everyone buys off-the-shelf."
"You burned down the kitchen," Rose says, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. The other's around his waist, and she's tempted to use it to poke him in that spot where he's particularly ticklish, if only because she's so exasperated.
"None of the neighbors' flats sustained any damage. They are all lovelypeople, by the way - standing on the street at three in the morning while the firemen do their thing is excellent for neighborly bonding. It's amazing how social barriers break down when everyone's wearing jimjams and houserobes. I invited the Kapoors for dinner, once our kitchen's back up and running. I told them how brilliant I am at making waffles; they couldn't say no, after that."
Tales of the neighbors last all the way out to the car and onto the road. The Doctor's just telling her how old Mr. Bennett from across the hall congratulated him on landing Rose and, "then said some things that I won't repeat, Rose, but maybe don't wear that blue skirt around Mr. Bennett anymore. It is tight and he has noticed," when he drives past the turn for the flat.
"Are we not going home?" She's craning her neck, looking backward as the exit gets smaller and smaller.
The Doctor pulls at his ear, "It's possible - and I'm not saying that I agree with this assessment - that the smoke from the fire caused some damage that perhaps makes our flat a bit of a safety hazard. Just briefly."
Rose's visions of a proper reunion with the Doctor, back in their bed, dissolve. Chin up, she optimistically replaces them with visions of plush hotel mattresses and room service.
"Where'd you book us in then?"
He stops pulling at his ear to scratch at the back of his neck, running right down the list of Doctor-with-anxiety tics.
"Great little place, you might know it - the Tyler Mansion?" He briefly turns his head to look at her sheepishly before making the turn for her parents' house.
"Please tell me," Rose says more tersely than she intends, "you insisted my mum put us in the pool house." Her hopes of a naked weekend and a competitive game of most creative use of ice cream toppings are rapidly vanishing.
"Ohhh, you know how Tony is. He loves it when we're over for supper; he's been over-the-moon that we're staying for a bit. Insisted we have the room right next to his, matter of fact." He sees her expression and goes into his there-are-too-many-words-in-my-big-Time-Lord-brain-and-they-won't-all-fit-out-of-my-mouth stutter. "But there was a thing - no two things - three if you count the round of Monopoly I lost - and -"
"It's all right," Rose says, burying her face in her hands as they pull past the security gate and into the front drive.
He brings the car to a stop and turns to look at her hopefully. "You mean you forgive me for burning down the flat?"
"I mean that you're the one who's going to tell my mum and Tony that we're moving into the pool house. And you're going to have to come up with a reason to explain why."
His lips are moving the whole walk up to the house, face shifting into different expressions, presumably rehearsing the best way to break the news to Tony.
Moments after Jackie opens the door and sweeps Rose up into a hug, it's clear that the Doctor won't have to do any news-breaking after all - Jackie announces she'd already moved their stuff to the pool house.
"You two haven't seen each other for a week! You think I need my sweet, innocent boy exposed to those noises?" Jackie pins Rose with a disapproving look before turning it on the Doctor.
"Mum!" Rose blushes despite herself.
"Don't give me that, Rose Tyler!" Jackie's voice pitches higher, imitating her daughter's, "'I don't know where these bruises on my neck came from, Mum!'"
The Doctor looks momentarily proud before both women glare at him, Rose shifting to step on his foot for good measure.
Jackie walks them through the house, grumbling the whole way. "Next you'll try and convince me that photo of the two of you with your skirt pushed up in the alley was just this one," she thumbs at the Doctor, "Checking for ticks."
The Doctor has the good sense to blush this time, "Well, you know, very tick-y population, London," and he all but sprints out the door to the pool house.
Rose gives her mum a final hug and an apologetic look before setting off after him, the sound of her mum's voice fading behind her -
"Tea in 15 minutes! Tony is expecting to see you!"
The Doctor flings the door of the pool house open and turns around at a dead stop, so that Rose crashes into him. He's mumbling things into her skin as he kisses her, lips seeking bare flesh, long fingers yanking on her shirt to expose more.
"Missed you," he says, making short work of the buttons down her front. "Does this count as make-up sex? It did occur to me that make-up sex might be an unintended side effect, since I burned down the flat."
"We have to have the angry sex first. Because I am unhappy about the kitchen. All our dishes and the good saki. And your suit. Gone," Rose gasps as his tongue finds the spot on her neck. That spot.
He hums in agreement as she fumbles with the front of his trousers. "If it helps with the angry bit, I should tell you that your laptop and your collector's edition boxset of Cheers were also ruined." She's not fumbling anymore, she's glaring, and with a yank, the button pops right off his trousers and skitters across the floor.
"Angry sex, then make-up sex," the Doctor says happily. "Then we can move on to the welcome-home sex. Then there's -"
Whatever else there is, Rose doesn't get to find out because of the knocking noise at the nearest window.
It's just a random enough pattern that Rose can tell it's Tony - the sound of little fingers hitting at the window as he jumps to be able to reach.
Her theory is confirmed when the knocking moves to the door, followed by her brother's voice.
"Rose, you're home! You're home! Mum said you'd be at tea, but I couldn't wait, the Doctor built me a fort! Would you like to play in the fort? Come play, Rose!"
It's not lost on her that the rambling speech patterns of a five-year-old match those of the man currently dropping to the ground to find the button of his trousers.
She buttons up her shirt swiftly, toeing the button across the wooden floor to the Doctor, and gesturing for him to do something.
He stands and moves the button to his trousers, lost without a way to reattach it, and then stares at Rose helplessly, "What - what should I do?"
She glares at him as Tony knocks again, "Change your trousers!" As an afterthought she gestures to his fly, "And get that under control."
The Doctor shuffles through the drawers and pulls out his new clothing, scampering off to the bathroom as Rose opens the door for her brother.
Jackie is barreling up the walk behind him, staring pointedly at Rose's shirt front - damn, she skipped a button.
"Tony saw your car pull up and couldn't be contained," Jackie said as Rose made short work of the skipped button. "You know how he is, when the Doctor's around." Jackie sucks on her teeth and narrows her eyes before calling to the empty room behind Rose: "How long did that contractor say till your flat is fixed, Doctor?"
"Er, um, contractor?" comes a reply from behind the closed bathroom door. "He said something about a month."
"Is the Doctor sick?" Tony asks, bounding into the room and toward the source of the voice. Rose catches him by the shoulder before he flings open the door and things get even more awkward. Spinning Tony around, she sweeps him into a hug.
"You didn't even say hallo to your sister," Rose chides, tickling him mercilessly. He's squealing and wiggling. "Tell me about this fort of yours that the Doctor built."
"'S awesome!" he giggles. "'S got a perception-something, and Mum and Dad don't know where it is. Even I can only find it sometimes."
"Perception filter?" Rose asks. "He made you a fort with a perception filter on it?"
"I can't find Tony half the time," Jackie sighed. "It's like he vanishes. And let's be clear: when you both move out of here in a month, you're taking the perception-whatsit with you."
And suddenly Rose knows exactly where she's going to take the Doctor after tea.
Because they're them and they have their luck, tea turns into an hours-long affair, with awkward conversation topics ranging from: "Why Rose just shrieked" to "Doctor, you get your hand out from under the table and off my daughter right this second."
There are also some stern looks.
By the time they're finally winding down, Tony is asleep curled up in the Doctor's lap - a place Jackie deliberately set the boy after a bit of encore yelping on Rose's part. Her mum and Pete announce they're going to bed and that the Doctor and Rose can get Tony settled in bed, as penance.
Tony goes down, thankfully, without a fuss, snuffling into his pillow as Rose creeps after the Doctor out of the room.
Then he's yanking her down the stairs and into the supply pantry, usually reserved for bulk food and drinks for parties, but now littered with children's toys and a pile of blankets and pillows.
She whirls on him as soon as the door's closed and he bites off a groan as Rose skips the lead up and goes straight to cupping him through his trousers.
"Is this the angry sex?" He drops his head back against the wood with a groan before quickly recovering to latch his mouth at the join of her neck and shoulder.
"This is the right now sex," and she moves her hand out of the way to grind her hips into his, stuttering in her movements as she feels his teeth on her skin.
"You look ridiculous in this t-shirt," she says, yanking it off over his head. His hair is more out-of-control than usual; it looks like a wild animal, startled by something. "Whatever made you buy t-shirts instead of another suit?"
His hands are at her hips, fingers digging into skin as he encourages her movements. "Jake took me shopping," he gasps into her neck, his entire body arched down toward her. Without warning he shifts his grip, grabbing her by the arse and lifting her up, moving forward until her back lands against the opposite wall and she squeaks in surprise.
Her legs wrap around him, her hands find purchase in his gloriously rumpled hair, and she tries pulling his mouth to hers again, but he resists. She blinks at him, arching her eyebrows at him as he studies her face.
"I couldn't sleep while you were gone. I burned down the kitchen at three in the morning trying to cook crepes, the banana ones you make for me when I'm restless in the middle of the night." He leans his forehead to hers and closes his eyes with a long sigh, tip of his nose brushing her cheek. "I missed you, Rose."
"I woke up crying the second night," she replies quietly, fingertips rubbing his scalp. "Because I had a dream you'd never come back here with me. I thought you were still over there, on the other side, locked away."
Rose presses little kisses to the corner of his mouth, sucking gently on his bottom lip. His hips are moving against her, his hands tearing at buttons, and he gasps, "Can this be the no-more-business-trips sex?"
"Yeah, Doctor," Rose replies. "Yeah, it can."
After the no-more-business-trips sex in the supply pantry, they only barely make it back to the pool house for the angry sex. And then the make-up sex. And after that, Rose makes the Doctor banana crepes.
&&.