Ten/Rose ficlet, Rated M
Title: A Day in the Life
Author: christn7
Rating: M
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Author's notes: Cliché!fic. I can't apologise enough for this. Really.
Summary: Rose turns, her cleverly constructed retort dying on her lips as she stares, slack jawed, at her own face.
A Day in the Life
--
“What the hell?” the Doctor exclaims, hopping off the bed and startling Rose awake.
“What? What is it?” she asks, wincing at the sound of her voice and rubbing at her eyes. “Is the universe collapsing?”
“Worse,” the Doctor says.
Rose turns, her cleverly constructed retort dying on her lips as she stares, slack jawed, at her own face.
“What’s going on, Doctor?”
“Mind meld? Body swap? Temporal and spatial transduction of mental awareness. Yes, that sounds better.”
“You haven’t a clue, have you?”
“Not a one,” he says, poking Rose’s flat chest, “but it is not at all nice of you - not. at. all. nice. - to snatch my body while I sleep.”
“Didn’t mean to,” she mumbles, horribly confused, as her new hand reaches for her new ear reflexively.
“Suppose it’s not your fault,” he says. “Finding it incredibly hard to fight the urge to blame you.”
“Me? Why blame me?”
“Well,” he says, tone implying just how obvious the answer is, “you’re here.”
Rose’s nose wrinkles. “That makes no sense.”
The Doctor frowns, folding then unfolding and, finally, refolding his arms over his chest. “How do you manage to look cross with all these bloody lumps in the way?”
--
Rose frowns. “Is my hair always that bad in the morning?”
“Oh,” the Doctor says, touching the blonde mop framing his face. “Always. But it looks good on you... well, on me, I suppose.”
--
“Stop that, Doctor,” Rose warns, pointing her finger at him menacingly.
“I don’t know that I can,” he says, bouncing again. “It feels so... odd.”
“Really,” she says, finding it incredibly hard to pull her eyes away from the Doctor’s chest, “quit it.”
--
“Think this’ll wear off?” Rose asks, cursing under her breath as she nicks herself shaving.
“Should do,” the Doctor replies, staring at his pink toothbrush in disdain. “I mean, I really, really hope it will.”
--
“I can’t go out like this,” the Doctor says, eyeing his figure in the mirror.
“You’re fine,” Rose says, grinning at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he huffs. “I know exactly what that grin is for - I invented that grin, I did. That’s my grin.”
“And, is it working?”
“A little bit,” he admits, sighing and grabbing a jacket. “C’mon, lets go.”
--
The Doctor can’t help but grin. “Good, right?”
“Amazing,” she affirms, chasing a drop of ice cream down the side of the cone.
“Enhanced senses,” he says, beaming with pride.
“Want some?” she asks, offering her cone.
The Doctor shrugs and leans over to steal a bite. His eyes widen. “That’s... how...”
“Oestrogen,” Rose offers, winking at him.
--
“Please, Doctor,” she says, dancing around the console, “teach me how to fly her.”
“Nope,” the Doctor says, crossing his arms over his breasts.
Rose trails her hand over a control lovingly and the Doctor huffs. “Not a chance.”
“We can’t stay in the vortex forever,” she says, flicking a switch experimentally. “Need milk, for one thing, and it’s not like you can fly her in your condition.”
“Won’t be forever. And what do you mean, ‘my condition?’” the Doctor asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Well,” Rose starts, kicking a trainer-clad foot against the grating, “your human...ness. You’re a bit of a...”
“Yes?”
She grins cheekily. “You’re a bit of an ape, now, aren’t you?”
--
Rose snorts, flicking off the screen and turning to her companion. “Well,” she says, “that was seven kinds of d- Doctor, are you crying?”
“No,” he says, wiping furiously at his cheeks. “Just got somethin’ in my eye.”
“It’s all right if you are, really,” Rose says, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “It’s been... you know, the change - it’s been tough.”
“It’s not that,” he says, curling into Rose’s side. “It’s just - Rhett, you know, he really loved her and it’s all these hormones, honestly - all these blasted female hormones. I don’t know how you’ve managed all these years.”
--
“Hold still,” the Doctor hisses, “just for a moment.”
“Can’t,” Rose replies, her body shaking with the effort not to move.
“Okay,” he says, pushing his hips towards her, “just take it slow.”
She sinks down, pushing her length into him and he moans. “Oh,” he says, “oh, now that’s different.”
--
Rose rolls towards the Doctor, tracing her finger between the valley of his breasts and down, over the soft curve of his stomach. “Can we try that again?”
“Didn’t work the first time,” he says, pulling Rose’s arm around him and snuggling into the curve of her body.
“True,” she agrees, brow wrinkling. “But it was still bloody fun trying.”
--
“Can we tr-”
“No,” the Doctor groans, rolling away from her. “M’already sore in places I didn’t know existed - in places that didn’t exist yesterday, mind.”
“Was only going to ask if we could snuggle,” Rose says, huffing.
“No you weren’t,” the Doctor says, raising his eyebrow.
“Okay,” she admits. “Maybe I wasn’t.”
--
“Rose,” the Doctor says, nudging her awake.
She blinks owlishly. “Has it worn off yet?”
“Nope,” he says, “not yet.”
“What is it then?”
“You snore.”
Author: christn7
Rating: M
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Author's notes: Cliché!fic. I can't apologise enough for this. Really.
Summary: Rose turns, her cleverly constructed retort dying on her lips as she stares, slack jawed, at her own face.
A Day in the Life
--
“What the hell?” the Doctor exclaims, hopping off the bed and startling Rose awake.
“What? What is it?” she asks, wincing at the sound of her voice and rubbing at her eyes. “Is the universe collapsing?”
“Worse,” the Doctor says.
Rose turns, her cleverly constructed retort dying on her lips as she stares, slack jawed, at her own face.
“What’s going on, Doctor?”
“Mind meld? Body swap? Temporal and spatial transduction of mental awareness. Yes, that sounds better.”
“You haven’t a clue, have you?”
“Not a one,” he says, poking Rose’s flat chest, “but it is not at all nice of you - not. at. all. nice. - to snatch my body while I sleep.”
“Didn’t mean to,” she mumbles, horribly confused, as her new hand reaches for her new ear reflexively.
“Suppose it’s not your fault,” he says. “Finding it incredibly hard to fight the urge to blame you.”
“Me? Why blame me?”
“Well,” he says, tone implying just how obvious the answer is, “you’re here.”
Rose’s nose wrinkles. “That makes no sense.”
The Doctor frowns, folding then unfolding and, finally, refolding his arms over his chest. “How do you manage to look cross with all these bloody lumps in the way?”
--
Rose frowns. “Is my hair always that bad in the morning?”
“Oh,” the Doctor says, touching the blonde mop framing his face. “Always. But it looks good on you... well, on me, I suppose.”
--
“Stop that, Doctor,” Rose warns, pointing her finger at him menacingly.
“I don’t know that I can,” he says, bouncing again. “It feels so... odd.”
“Really,” she says, finding it incredibly hard to pull her eyes away from the Doctor’s chest, “quit it.”
--
“Think this’ll wear off?” Rose asks, cursing under her breath as she nicks herself shaving.
“Should do,” the Doctor replies, staring at his pink toothbrush in disdain. “I mean, I really, really hope it will.”
--
“I can’t go out like this,” the Doctor says, eyeing his figure in the mirror.
“You’re fine,” Rose says, grinning at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he huffs. “I know exactly what that grin is for - I invented that grin, I did. That’s my grin.”
“And, is it working?”
“A little bit,” he admits, sighing and grabbing a jacket. “C’mon, lets go.”
--
The Doctor can’t help but grin. “Good, right?”
“Amazing,” she affirms, chasing a drop of ice cream down the side of the cone.
“Enhanced senses,” he says, beaming with pride.
“Want some?” she asks, offering her cone.
The Doctor shrugs and leans over to steal a bite. His eyes widen. “That’s... how...”
“Oestrogen,” Rose offers, winking at him.
--
“Please, Doctor,” she says, dancing around the console, “teach me how to fly her.”
“Nope,” the Doctor says, crossing his arms over his breasts.
Rose trails her hand over a control lovingly and the Doctor huffs. “Not a chance.”
“We can’t stay in the vortex forever,” she says, flicking a switch experimentally. “Need milk, for one thing, and it’s not like you can fly her in your condition.”
“Won’t be forever. And what do you mean, ‘my condition?’” the Doctor asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Well,” Rose starts, kicking a trainer-clad foot against the grating, “your human...ness. You’re a bit of a...”
“Yes?”
She grins cheekily. “You’re a bit of an ape, now, aren’t you?”
--
Rose snorts, flicking off the screen and turning to her companion. “Well,” she says, “that was seven kinds of d- Doctor, are you crying?”
“No,” he says, wiping furiously at his cheeks. “Just got somethin’ in my eye.”
“It’s all right if you are, really,” Rose says, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “It’s been... you know, the change - it’s been tough.”
“It’s not that,” he says, curling into Rose’s side. “It’s just - Rhett, you know, he really loved her and it’s all these hormones, honestly - all these blasted female hormones. I don’t know how you’ve managed all these years.”
--
“Hold still,” the Doctor hisses, “just for a moment.”
“Can’t,” Rose replies, her body shaking with the effort not to move.
“Okay,” he says, pushing his hips towards her, “just take it slow.”
She sinks down, pushing her length into him and he moans. “Oh,” he says, “oh, now that’s different.”
--
Rose rolls towards the Doctor, tracing her finger between the valley of his breasts and down, over the soft curve of his stomach. “Can we try that again?”
“Didn’t work the first time,” he says, pulling Rose’s arm around him and snuggling into the curve of her body.
“True,” she agrees, brow wrinkling. “But it was still bloody fun trying.”
--
“Can we tr-”
“No,” the Doctor groans, rolling away from her. “M’already sore in places I didn’t know existed - in places that didn’t exist yesterday, mind.”
“Was only going to ask if we could snuggle,” Rose says, huffing.
“No you weren’t,” the Doctor says, raising his eyebrow.
“Okay,” she admits. “Maybe I wasn’t.”
--
“Rose,” the Doctor says, nudging her awake.
She blinks owlishly. “Has it worn off yet?”
“Nope,” he says, “not yet.”
“What is it then?”
“You snore.”