Fic: Always
Always, Ten/Rose, PG-13, She wakes up alone and for some reason that frightens her. Terrifies her, really. 768 words
She wakes up alone and for some reason that frightens her. Terrifies her, really. They are so, so new. Somehow she knows that he isn’t in the TARDIS. Call it instinct, call it some leftover breath of life from her shared existence with the heart of the TARDIS, but she knows he’s not here, not anywhere in this echoing place of sudden solitude.
With her heart in her throat she slips out of his bed, noticing absently that she’s still naked from a night she never thought would happen. His shirt lies abandoned on the floor, his suit half on a chair, his tie hanging, she notices with a slight blush, from the chandelier. She runs her hand over the well worn wood of his bed frame, caressing the smooth surface as her mind wanders away, anywhere but where she is. Anywhere where she’s not alone after her first night with the Doctor.
Did she make a mistake?
She can’t quite recall what happened to her clothes so she picks up his shirt, the blue one, her favorite, and pulls it on, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as if they don’t know how to work, as if they’d never done anything before as intricate as pushing tiny bits of round plastic through thread-lined holes.
She takes a deep breath and calms her racing mind. She can smell him, the scent of his aftershave and sage and honey and that unrecognizable bit of him that she’d almost say was time if she believed in that sort of thing. It’s familiar, the same thing she always smells when she hugs him and buries her face in his shoulder and he holds her almost too tightly to let air into her lungs. It soothes her and her wicked fears ease.
The planet he landed them on last night is uninhabited so she doesn’t bother with dressing further. She slips out of the ship, her feet bare and somewhat sensitive against the rough dirt as she makes her way forward, the only path open to her.
She sees a glimmer of water through the trees before her, just a glimpse through the brightness of new spring leaves just barely sprung. She moves carefully towards it, hesitating only for a moment to consider going back for shoes, but the sound of splashing convinces her to just go on and so she does.
At the water’s edge she pulls back a branch to move around it then leans against a sapling, her toes squishing into the mud as she scans the pond for the Doctor. He’s there in the middle, floating on his back stark naked and she almost laughs, the sensation bubbling up through her stomach and rib cage only to get caught halfway to her throat.
She watches as he flips onto his stomach and dives beneath the surface, his too white backside the last thing to go under. Her hands itch, remembering the skin there all too well. When he comes up for air his hair sticks flatly to his head and when he pushes it back it stands up so crazily that this time the giggle can’t help but make its way out.
The Doctor whirls and spots her peering at him through the brush and his face breaks out into a tremendous smile. All doubt, all worry, all trepidation flees her mind, taking with it the tenseness she didn’t know she’d been carrying since waking up.
“I thought you were going to sleep all day!” he calls out, his voice echoing loudly off the water.
“Nah,” she says, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.
“You look good in my clothes,” he tells her. She can’t help but flush bright red at the compliment and even redder when he adds, “But even better without them. Join me?”
Her smile is shy but happy as she works the buttons once again, her hands remembering finally what it means to be proficient. She hangs the shirt from a tree branch and dips her toe into the water, finds it warm and moves forward without further hesitation. They meet somewhere in the middle and he pulls her into his arms, kissing her soundly, proving last night was no fluke.
They swim and play and make love again on the muddy banks of the little pond. No fear remains as she lays limply in his arms, content just to be with him, just to be his and have him be hers. The words he whispers in her ear vanquish any last bit of lingering fear.
“I love you, Rose Tyler. Always.”
She wakes up alone and for some reason that frightens her. Terrifies her, really. They are so, so new. Somehow she knows that he isn’t in the TARDIS. Call it instinct, call it some leftover breath of life from her shared existence with the heart of the TARDIS, but she knows he’s not here, not anywhere in this echoing place of sudden solitude.
With her heart in her throat she slips out of his bed, noticing absently that she’s still naked from a night she never thought would happen. His shirt lies abandoned on the floor, his suit half on a chair, his tie hanging, she notices with a slight blush, from the chandelier. She runs her hand over the well worn wood of his bed frame, caressing the smooth surface as her mind wanders away, anywhere but where she is. Anywhere where she’s not alone after her first night with the Doctor.
Did she make a mistake?
She can’t quite recall what happened to her clothes so she picks up his shirt, the blue one, her favorite, and pulls it on, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as if they don’t know how to work, as if they’d never done anything before as intricate as pushing tiny bits of round plastic through thread-lined holes.
She takes a deep breath and calms her racing mind. She can smell him, the scent of his aftershave and sage and honey and that unrecognizable bit of him that she’d almost say was time if she believed in that sort of thing. It’s familiar, the same thing she always smells when she hugs him and buries her face in his shoulder and he holds her almost too tightly to let air into her lungs. It soothes her and her wicked fears ease.
The planet he landed them on last night is uninhabited so she doesn’t bother with dressing further. She slips out of the ship, her feet bare and somewhat sensitive against the rough dirt as she makes her way forward, the only path open to her.
She sees a glimmer of water through the trees before her, just a glimpse through the brightness of new spring leaves just barely sprung. She moves carefully towards it, hesitating only for a moment to consider going back for shoes, but the sound of splashing convinces her to just go on and so she does.
At the water’s edge she pulls back a branch to move around it then leans against a sapling, her toes squishing into the mud as she scans the pond for the Doctor. He’s there in the middle, floating on his back stark naked and she almost laughs, the sensation bubbling up through her stomach and rib cage only to get caught halfway to her throat.
She watches as he flips onto his stomach and dives beneath the surface, his too white backside the last thing to go under. Her hands itch, remembering the skin there all too well. When he comes up for air his hair sticks flatly to his head and when he pushes it back it stands up so crazily that this time the giggle can’t help but make its way out.
The Doctor whirls and spots her peering at him through the brush and his face breaks out into a tremendous smile. All doubt, all worry, all trepidation flees her mind, taking with it the tenseness she didn’t know she’d been carrying since waking up.
“I thought you were going to sleep all day!” he calls out, his voice echoing loudly off the water.
“Nah,” she says, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.
“You look good in my clothes,” he tells her. She can’t help but flush bright red at the compliment and even redder when he adds, “But even better without them. Join me?”
Her smile is shy but happy as she works the buttons once again, her hands remembering finally what it means to be proficient. She hangs the shirt from a tree branch and dips her toe into the water, finds it warm and moves forward without further hesitation. They meet somewhere in the middle and he pulls her into his arms, kissing her soundly, proving last night was no fluke.
They swim and play and make love again on the muddy banks of the little pond. No fear remains as she lays limply in his arms, content just to be with him, just to be his and have him be hers. The words he whispers in her ear vanquish any last bit of lingering fear.
“I love you, Rose Tyler. Always.”