Across the Abyss
Rose flipped over again on her bed and pressed her eyelids shut harder as if sheer will would force her into sleep. She knew better, really she did. She had read all the articles on insomnia and knew that the worst thing she could do was continue to lie in bed and get frustrated about not sleeping, but she couldn't stomach the thought of getting out of bed. She stared at the bedside table where she would normally see an alarm clock. Of course nothing was there. In the TARDIS it was both night and day and she simply slept when she needed to, whenever and however long that turned out to be. Normally she would get up, shower, and get dressed, then bounce off to find the Doctor and whatever adventure (or lecture) was on the agenda. Now, however, that was exactly the reason she stayed in bed and tossed restlessly.
She kept replaying that amazing comment of his. "I might, another time. Pay attention." When he had returned, he'd dropped her clothes on one of the tables and muttered something about the TARDIS needing a temporal whatzit and had disappeared again. She'd dressed in stunned silence. It wasn't until she was zipping up her pink hoodie that she realized he'd provided her with a set of matching bra and knickers.
She pushed the thought of him rummaging through her underthings to find the right pair firmly out of her mind just as she had earlier and sighed heavily. Sleep was not going to come peacefully. She sat up, pushed her hair heavily out of her face, and slid off the bed. She showered and put on yet another hoodie and jeans and padded off to find him. She would act normally. She would.
As she could have predicted, only the Doctor's legs were in evidence as he rummaged around underneath a console. She heard a faint but constant monologue as he worked. She loved how he talked to the TARDIS as he worked. She didn't understand most of his chatter but what she did recognize was a longstanding, occasionally exasperated affection and deep familiarity.
"Hello," he piped cheerily. She jumped and watched him slide out from underneath the console.
"I can't sneak up on you," she complained, half-heartedly. He always knew when she watched him.
"Not me. Built in Rose sneakiness detector. It was an upgrade." She snorted, a little rudely. "Oi, don't start. You're the one being rude this time, sneaking up on innocent me."
"How does it work?" she asked.
"How does what work?"
"The Rose sneakiness detector."
"Ah," he said sagely, as if she had just asked him to explain the workings of a supernova or some obscure Eastern philosophy. "It's a combination of acute awareness of temporal distortion, refined senses of smell, hearing, and well, half a dozen others." His eyes crinkled around the edges in the way she found most endearing. "Really I felt you walking in. The floor vibrates a little. You don't sneak very quietly."
"I do too."
"Do not," he said, offended. "I'll teach you some sneaking techniques some time. Walk with the ball of the foot first, then the heel. Makes things much quieter."
She offered him a hand and he took it, letting her help him climb off the floor and stand to face her. He brushed off his suit and then straightened his tie. "Alright then, where are we off to, my sneaky Rose?"
She gave him a measured look. He was playing his comment off as much as she was. Did she mind? Had she really expected anything other than the Doctor being, well, the Doctor again? "We could try for the rain forest again, since you mucked it up last time."
"Did not," he protested. "I simply thought that you might like something different."
"Why do you ask me, then?" she said, suddenly weary. "Just go where you want and take me along."
"Rose," he said, suddenly very serious. "That's not how it is. Sometimes I see things, that's all. Possibilities. If I can avoid them, I do."
"Things about me?"
He nodded.
"What did you see?" He spun around and began banging on a few levers and buttons. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, and touched his arm. He stopped, dropping his head slightly, but not facing her. "Doctor." She waited. "Tell me."
His head turned and she was caught momentarily off guard by the brightness and depth of his eyes. "Rose," he said with effort, furrowing his brow and looking almost angry, "I saw you die. I didn't want it to happen, so we went somewhere else. When we went there, you fell through the ice--" He broke off.
"And it almost happened anyway," she finished, understanding.
"Yes! Yes. I can't protect you from everything."
She jumped in before he could go on. "Tell me these things! Let me help. Let me in." She reached out and touched his cheek. "I will help." He breathed in slowly and pressed almost imperceptibly into her palm. She let her hand stay there for a moment, staring into his fathomless eyes, seeing his pain and wanting more than anything else to blot it out. His hand came up and touched hers, his index finger running gently down the outside of her hand to her wrist. His hand encircled hers and yes, she was sure, he pressed closer. "Doctor," she breathed.
"I don't always know," he said, and she felt the vibration of his voice up through her palm. "I can't read your timeline. I can just see bits of it, sometimes. I saw your body, broken, in the jungle." He stopped, and she knew that was all she would get out of him on that subject. "I won't take you there," he said, fiercely, and she nodded.
"Thank you," she murmured, and leaned in to press her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, still holding her wrist, her hand against his cheek. They were quiet and motionless in time, breathing in the same air. His other arm came around her waist, not pulling her closer, just encircling her.
After some time he said in quite a different voice, "One of us has to move sometime."
"Why?"
"My hand is falling asleep."
Rose laughed and pulled away. The Doctor released her wrist and shook his hand theatrically, rolling his eyes and grimacing in mock pain. He kept the other arm around her, however, and she didn't pull away far. Impulsively, she took his hand and gave it a resounding, smacking kiss. His eyebrows shot up and she laughed again. "That hand has been nothing but trouble since it grew back," she snickered, and he mock gasped in horror.
"I'll have you know this is one of the most outstanding hands I have had, and I've had several pairs."
"A manly hairy hand."
"Quite. And useful to boot." He tickled her and she squealed, dancing away from him.
They play fought for a moment with Rose attempting unsuccessfully to retaliate, and then the moment changed again. She had backed up against the wall in an attempt to escape his tickling, and he had followed. She was breathless, laughing, and entirely too close to him by far. Or, she pondered, not close enough by half. The earlier comment came back to her and she flushed. "Doctor," she began, cautiously, and watched his face for any sign of alarm. "Earlier, when you said you weren't paying attention but that you might." She stopped. He was watching her from the same vantage point, slightly above her, eyes dark and cheeks warm.
"I meant it," he said, so quietly that she might have thought she imagined it. They regarded each other over the abyss and for a moment, neither could move, either to back away or to come closer. Rose fixed on his gaze and saw an attentiveness there that she did not know if she had seen before. He was waiting, for her. She suddenly knew that for all her restless hours in bed, frustrated with his lack of forwardness with her, that she had missed the important part. The move was hers, not his, to make.
Tentatively, still intent on his eyes, she leaned in. He didn't flinch or move away. She touched her lips to his, the lightest of kisses. Her eyes drifted shut and she moved her slightly parted lips against his. For a horrible moment, he didn't respond and she thought she might have misread everything, but then his hand gently touched her back and pressed in gently. She let out a sigh against his mouth and kissed him again. This time, she indulged fully. A quick flick of her tongue and their lips were soft and moist together, moving slowly and exploring. She let her arms come up around him and he leaned into her, both lost in the moment and one another.
She pulled away finally and opened her eyes again, finding his still closed. She echoed their earlier pose and tilted her head so their foreheads touched, her arms still around his neck. She scratched him lightly on the scruff of the neck and he made a soft hum under his breath, almost a purr.
"Should have done that before," she said.
"Right time for everything," he replied, his hand rubbing circles in the small of her back. She yawned, and he straightened, giving her an offended look. "Am I boring you?"
"No," she yawned, trying unsuccessfully to close her mouth completely. "Just sleepy, all of a sudden. Couldn't sleep for thinking about your daft comment."
His eyes twinkled merrily and she knew, the cocky bastard, that he'd meant it that way after all.
She kept replaying that amazing comment of his. "I might, another time. Pay attention." When he had returned, he'd dropped her clothes on one of the tables and muttered something about the TARDIS needing a temporal whatzit and had disappeared again. She'd dressed in stunned silence. It wasn't until she was zipping up her pink hoodie that she realized he'd provided her with a set of matching bra and knickers.
She pushed the thought of him rummaging through her underthings to find the right pair firmly out of her mind just as she had earlier and sighed heavily. Sleep was not going to come peacefully. She sat up, pushed her hair heavily out of her face, and slid off the bed. She showered and put on yet another hoodie and jeans and padded off to find him. She would act normally. She would.
As she could have predicted, only the Doctor's legs were in evidence as he rummaged around underneath a console. She heard a faint but constant monologue as he worked. She loved how he talked to the TARDIS as he worked. She didn't understand most of his chatter but what she did recognize was a longstanding, occasionally exasperated affection and deep familiarity.
"Hello," he piped cheerily. She jumped and watched him slide out from underneath the console.
"I can't sneak up on you," she complained, half-heartedly. He always knew when she watched him.
"Not me. Built in Rose sneakiness detector. It was an upgrade." She snorted, a little rudely. "Oi, don't start. You're the one being rude this time, sneaking up on innocent me."
"How does it work?" she asked.
"How does what work?"
"The Rose sneakiness detector."
"Ah," he said sagely, as if she had just asked him to explain the workings of a supernova or some obscure Eastern philosophy. "It's a combination of acute awareness of temporal distortion, refined senses of smell, hearing, and well, half a dozen others." His eyes crinkled around the edges in the way she found most endearing. "Really I felt you walking in. The floor vibrates a little. You don't sneak very quietly."
"I do too."
"Do not," he said, offended. "I'll teach you some sneaking techniques some time. Walk with the ball of the foot first, then the heel. Makes things much quieter."
She offered him a hand and he took it, letting her help him climb off the floor and stand to face her. He brushed off his suit and then straightened his tie. "Alright then, where are we off to, my sneaky Rose?"
She gave him a measured look. He was playing his comment off as much as she was. Did she mind? Had she really expected anything other than the Doctor being, well, the Doctor again? "We could try for the rain forest again, since you mucked it up last time."
"Did not," he protested. "I simply thought that you might like something different."
"Why do you ask me, then?" she said, suddenly weary. "Just go where you want and take me along."
"Rose," he said, suddenly very serious. "That's not how it is. Sometimes I see things, that's all. Possibilities. If I can avoid them, I do."
"Things about me?"
He nodded.
"What did you see?" He spun around and began banging on a few levers and buttons. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, and touched his arm. He stopped, dropping his head slightly, but not facing her. "Doctor." She waited. "Tell me."
His head turned and she was caught momentarily off guard by the brightness and depth of his eyes. "Rose," he said with effort, furrowing his brow and looking almost angry, "I saw you die. I didn't want it to happen, so we went somewhere else. When we went there, you fell through the ice--" He broke off.
"And it almost happened anyway," she finished, understanding.
"Yes! Yes. I can't protect you from everything."
She jumped in before he could go on. "Tell me these things! Let me help. Let me in." She reached out and touched his cheek. "I will help." He breathed in slowly and pressed almost imperceptibly into her palm. She let her hand stay there for a moment, staring into his fathomless eyes, seeing his pain and wanting more than anything else to blot it out. His hand came up and touched hers, his index finger running gently down the outside of her hand to her wrist. His hand encircled hers and yes, she was sure, he pressed closer. "Doctor," she breathed.
"I don't always know," he said, and she felt the vibration of his voice up through her palm. "I can't read your timeline. I can just see bits of it, sometimes. I saw your body, broken, in the jungle." He stopped, and she knew that was all she would get out of him on that subject. "I won't take you there," he said, fiercely, and she nodded.
"Thank you," she murmured, and leaned in to press her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, still holding her wrist, her hand against his cheek. They were quiet and motionless in time, breathing in the same air. His other arm came around her waist, not pulling her closer, just encircling her.
After some time he said in quite a different voice, "One of us has to move sometime."
"Why?"
"My hand is falling asleep."
Rose laughed and pulled away. The Doctor released her wrist and shook his hand theatrically, rolling his eyes and grimacing in mock pain. He kept the other arm around her, however, and she didn't pull away far. Impulsively, she took his hand and gave it a resounding, smacking kiss. His eyebrows shot up and she laughed again. "That hand has been nothing but trouble since it grew back," she snickered, and he mock gasped in horror.
"I'll have you know this is one of the most outstanding hands I have had, and I've had several pairs."
"A manly hairy hand."
"Quite. And useful to boot." He tickled her and she squealed, dancing away from him.
They play fought for a moment with Rose attempting unsuccessfully to retaliate, and then the moment changed again. She had backed up against the wall in an attempt to escape his tickling, and he had followed. She was breathless, laughing, and entirely too close to him by far. Or, she pondered, not close enough by half. The earlier comment came back to her and she flushed. "Doctor," she began, cautiously, and watched his face for any sign of alarm. "Earlier, when you said you weren't paying attention but that you might." She stopped. He was watching her from the same vantage point, slightly above her, eyes dark and cheeks warm.
"I meant it," he said, so quietly that she might have thought she imagined it. They regarded each other over the abyss and for a moment, neither could move, either to back away or to come closer. Rose fixed on his gaze and saw an attentiveness there that she did not know if she had seen before. He was waiting, for her. She suddenly knew that for all her restless hours in bed, frustrated with his lack of forwardness with her, that she had missed the important part. The move was hers, not his, to make.
Tentatively, still intent on his eyes, she leaned in. He didn't flinch or move away. She touched her lips to his, the lightest of kisses. Her eyes drifted shut and she moved her slightly parted lips against his. For a horrible moment, he didn't respond and she thought she might have misread everything, but then his hand gently touched her back and pressed in gently. She let out a sigh against his mouth and kissed him again. This time, she indulged fully. A quick flick of her tongue and their lips were soft and moist together, moving slowly and exploring. She let her arms come up around him and he leaned into her, both lost in the moment and one another.
She pulled away finally and opened her eyes again, finding his still closed. She echoed their earlier pose and tilted her head so their foreheads touched, her arms still around his neck. She scratched him lightly on the scruff of the neck and he made a soft hum under his breath, almost a purr.
"Should have done that before," she said.
"Right time for everything," he replied, his hand rubbing circles in the small of her back. She yawned, and he straightened, giving her an offended look. "Am I boring you?"
"No," she yawned, trying unsuccessfully to close her mouth completely. "Just sleepy, all of a sudden. Couldn't sleep for thinking about your daft comment."
His eyes twinkled merrily and she knew, the cocky bastard, that he'd meant it that way after all.