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Introducing the Simple Wonders of 21st Century Technology, Ten II/Rose, R, 2487 words
Summary: Rose finds a way to get the Doctor to return home as quickly as possible (and makes sure that he’ll always keep his new phone on him at all times).
Author’s Notes: Written for onabearskinrug for the prompt ‘sexting’, as well as for Challenge 95 of then_theres_us. Contains some intentional textspeak, but nothing too terribly difficult to decipher.
I bet you ten quid I can find a way to make sure you don’t regret it at all.
The Doctor looked down at the device in his hand sceptically. “Why would I want a mobile phone? What do you expect me to actually do with it?”
Rose sighed. “You sound like my Grandma Prentice used to, all, ‘What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until I get back to my phone at home, anyway?’ I thought you, of all people, would appreciate a bit of technology.”
“But that’s just it, Rose! I wouldn’t really call this ‘technology’, strictly speaking. Frankly, though this world might be a little more advanced than your old one, 21st century Earth telecommunications in any universe is about as advanced as a few cans and a connecting piece of string. In fact, I just bet I could do better with only that. Where do you get string around here?”
“From the supermarket, probably,” Rose suggested with a sly grin.
Predictably, the Doctor shuddered and looked sort of ill. After that one time she’d sent him out to do the weekly shop and he’d come back with only four different kinds of whipped cream, a lot of empty chocolate wrappers and a glazed look that suggested he was about to enter some kind of sugar coma, she’d decided that the Doctor and monotonous but necessary tasks just didn’t mix; he got too easily side-tracked when something wasn’t interesting enough to hold his attention, which could only ever lead to one kind of disaster or another. When he’d finally got over his massive stomach ache, he’d readily agreed to stay away from grocery shopping in future.
She was fully prepared to use that against him now, of course.
“You could go get me some string,” the Doctor suggested, trying to come up with some compromise between the ‘useless’ mobile phone and the dreaded gauntlet of the supermarket.
“I don’t need to get you some string, though,” Rose reminded him. “Not when I already got you a proper mobile phone all of your own. A 'thanks' would be nice, by the way.”
The Doctor grumbled something that sounded distinctly like he was considering experimenting with whether or not it was possible to successfully flush a whole phone down the loo.
“Look, you can do whatever you need to fix the phone up so that you can contact the planet Zephora or send a message to Christopher Columbus or whatever it takes to convince you it’s actually a valuable tool, but just don’t destroy it, all right? It’s how Torchwood will contact you. You wouldn’t want to miss out on the action just because you were somewhere across town, would you?”
The Doctor shook his head. “Why can’t they just call your phone?”
“Yeah,” Rose snorted, “because there’s no chance we’re ever gonna end up separated somehow in the middle of an alien invasion. That’s never happened before, right?”
“We’d be fine if you’d just learn Rule Number One, Rose,” the Doctor insisted.
“Who says I’m the one who keeps on wanderin’ off, then?”
The Doctor looked very put out by the implication that he could somehow be the one in the wrong on that count.
Rose quickly forestalled the inevitable further argument that she could tell was brewing by adding, “It’d make me really happy if you’d keep it with you.”
He looked like he was wavering.
“And I bet you ten quid I can find a way to make sure you don’t regret it at all if you do,” she continued. She smiled temptingly at him, knowing he could never turn down such a challenge from her.
“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “You’re on. But when you lose, I get to break it down and turn it into spare parts for the new screwdriver I’m building.”
Rose, completely certain of her impending win - for once she knew something that the Doctor didn’t seem to - said, “Deal.”
* * *
The stupid phone was buzzing, and although the Doctor couldn’t deny that the vibration against his leg was strangely pleasant, he had much better things to do than spend time searching through all the bits and pieces stuffed in his bigger-on-the-inside jacket pocket to find the one thing he’d rather not be keeping in there, actually.
Finally, he brandished the phone triumphantly only to find that after all that he’d still missed the call. And it was from Rose, too, who was just about the only person who had his number that he would actually want to speak to right now. If it had been someone else from Torchwood, he probably would have just hung up on them anyway. After all, they’d sent him out here to wait for over an hour now with no sign that anything interesting was ever going to happen. That didn’t put him in a particularly charitable mood towards them at all.
Before he could return the call, the phone let out four staccato beeps that indicated he’d received a message.
Haven’t seen u all day. Miss me? it read. He didn’t even have to look to know that the sender was Rose.
The Doctor fondly imagined her cheeky smile.
Of course. Have you been making trouble while I’ve been gone? he sent in reply.
U no me. Always.
Where are you? he asked
@ home, in the bedroom.
The Doctor’s eyebrows rose slightly. What trouble could you possibly be getting into there?
O u have no idea... But i spose i cud sho u l8r. Give u a crash course in my fav kinda trouble 2nite maybe? :P
The Doctor squinted at the phone for a second before his brain almost simultaneously realised what it was she could possibly be talking about and promptly seemed to short-circuit.
Honestly, what was she trying to do to him?
His hands shook slightly as he sent a return text.
Well, you know how much of a knowledge seeker I am. I just don’t think I can wait that long to find out, especially if you’re already getting up to something now. Maybe you could tell me about it instead?
Gods, he could just imagine the wicked smile that would break across her face as she read that. He had a fairly good idea of exactly what he’d just let himself in for, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care much. It certainly beat standing around waiting for nothing.
I dunno... Rose sent back. I’m undressin 2 get in the shower... Mite b hard 2 keep txtin... Maybe u shud tell me wot ur doin instead, hmm?
The Doctor flushed bright red at the thought of her slipping off her clothes, readying herself to go stand under the warm spray and rub soap over every inch of her body... His eyes darted around him as if one of the many passers-by milling around could somehow be reading over his shoulder, or could just tell what he was doing by looking at him. The massive blush would certainly make it easier for them to figure out, he had to admit.
I can’t really do much of anything just now, sorry. the Doctor wrote. I’m standing in the middle of Hyde Park surrounded by people.
Rubbish. Loads we cud do rite out where ne1 cud b watchin. I’d reach 4 ur hand then slowly shift em both under ur jacket where no1 cud c. Bet I cud make u squirm w/o em noing we werent just innocently holdin hands.
The Doctor shivered.
Minx. I want that too. But that’s not for today. Today I want to hear all about what you’re doing right now, in our bedroom.
O, well, I’m reeeaaallly busy right now. I mite have 2 put down the phone. Important things 2 do, u no.
You know, you only really need to have one hand free to text. You could do all kind of things without putting the phone down.
ORLY? XD But wot will i do with the other hand then?
You tell me.
I spose i mite slip my fingers in2 the string of my underwear and slowly work the lace down my thighs. My knees mite b pressed up against my chest as I push my underwear down to my ankles.
Are they dangling off those heels of yours?
Took my shoes off earlier. 2 bad rite? I no it drives u crazy 2 c me like that.
We’ll get to that later, definitely. the Doctor promised. Are you doing anything else with that spare hand of yours now?
No. U r. Ur runnin ur fingers over my bare hip, u tease. Now theyre movin inwards, now down, down, down... they feel so good as they rub over me and find their way 2 discover where im gettin all wet 4 u... need you so bad...
The Doctor thought his now-annoyingly-fragile single heart might beat its way straight out of his chest at that. He was about to have a meltdown in the middle of a crowd of people, including a bunch of children playing not too far away, and he just bet that every single person who saw him would be able to tell exactly what made him suddenly fall to the ground with a slack look on his face, twitching like a maniac.
He had to get away from there. No, scratch that. He had to get to Rose. Immediately, or preferably sooner. What he wouldn’t give for a working TARDIS right about then.
Hold that thought. he texted. I’m suddenly feeling very sure that no aliens are going to show up here this afternoon after all. I’ll be home in 20 minutes.
Mmm, dont think i can w8 that long...
10! I’ll be there in 10 MINUTES. Now excuse me while I go break every traffic law in London.
The Doctor couldn’t believe he didn’t get into an accident on the way there, as single-mindedly eager as she’d made him. He also nearly kicked down the front door out of pure frustrated need to be inside when he reached the flat only to fumble endlessly with his keys, trying to unlock the door. When he finally did get inside, he practically stormed into the bedroom and bore down on Rose.
“’Bout time,” she said, before he snatched up her still-busy hands and pinned them to the mattress possessively.
“I thought those were supposed to be my hands that were touching you,” he reminded her sternly.
“I certainly imagined they were,” Rose replied, grinning.
The Doctor raised one of her hands to his lips and tasted the residual tang of her, moaning slightly before letting the digits pop free.
“Well now my actual hands are ready and available,” he let go of her wrists and wiggled his fingers demonstratively, “so I’ll take it from here, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m all yours,” Rose said, splaying her arms wide across the bed sheets in a clear invitation.
“Too right you are,” the Doctor said before taking up the task that her hand had been performing before he’d so rudely interrupted her.
“Good to know that I’m not the only one who was worked up,” he remarked.
“Why d’you think I did all that? You’d been gone all day and I wanted you home as soon as possible to take care of me.”
“Like this?” the Doctor asked, lowering himself down her body slowly, his lips marking his path.
“Yeah,” Rose said breathily. “Yeah, that’s a really, really, really good staarrtttt!”
Of course, Rose was completely right about that. It was only the start.
* * *
“Told you I’d prove the phone could be worthwhile,” Rose gloated as she shifted her head to use his chest as a kind of pillow. “Betcha don’t wanna get rid of it now, do you?”
“Just don’t ever do that on a day when we’re likely - more likely than usual, I mean - to end up running for our lives,” the Doctor warned, “or I might just tell the aliens that they need to take a tea break while I go off and have my wicked way with you.”
“Mmm. Think that’d actually work? ’Cause it sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”
The Doctor laughed. “Well, if it doesn’t, the world will be thoroughly doomed, because there’s no way I can stand up to a spaceship full of hostile individuals when you’ve made my knees go all weak and useless. Imagine me trying to keep up with some unnameable menace with my knees all jelly-like!”
“Your knees seemed to be workin’ just fine before. Better than fine, in fact.”
“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor admonished. “I’m never going to get back to work if you keep on like that.”
“Obviously that’s my master plan to make Torchwood finally realise they should assign us the same days off every week. Genius, no?”
The Doctor cocked his head slightly, thinking about it, and then shrugged. “It definitely makes sense to me, and I’ve got a much bigger and more discerning brain than your stepfather and the other desk-riders at Torchwood, so they should be even more easily persuaded.”
“Right then. I’ll just go tell my Dad that he needs to rewrite the roster so that I can shag my boyfriend silly more often, shall I?”
The Doctor grinned. “As long as you don’t tell your Mum that, I think that sounds like a plan!”
“Yeah, well, you would say that. Bet you ten quid you wouldn’t do it.”
The Doctor thought about that for a moment, deciding he really did need to win that money back - he didn’t actually have ten pounds to pay up for losing the phone bet, after all. He smiled mysteriously and slipped out gently from underneath her, climbing out of bed and getting immediately redressed despite the fact that he really probably needed a shower. He’d already spent quite enough of his shift AWOL, though, and he doubted it would make much difference to the aliens (presuming they ever did show up at all) if he smelled like sex.
Rose frowned as she watched him get ready so quickly. “Doctor, you’re not... Tell me you’re not really... No, c’mon, what d’you think you’re doin’?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Rose?” the Doctor teased. “I have a bet to win.”
“Doctor, you can’t really - Doctor!”
The Doctor merely strode out of the room with, for once, a devious sort of smile of his own gracing his lips at that Rose’s clear panic that something out of her full control might be happening today.
Of course he’d never actually say a word (unless Rose really wanted him to, in which case he thought he’d might have reached the stage by now where he’d probably be willing to literally yell it from the rooftops).
But after she’d made such a point of leading him around on a metaphorical leash today, the Doctor thought it might be about time Rose got at least a tiny taste of her own medicine.
~FIN~
Summary: Rose finds a way to get the Doctor to return home as quickly as possible (and makes sure that he’ll always keep his new phone on him at all times).
Author’s Notes: Written for onabearskinrug for the prompt ‘sexting’, as well as for Challenge 95 of then_theres_us. Contains some intentional textspeak, but nothing too terribly difficult to decipher.
I bet you ten quid I can find a way to make sure you don’t regret it at all.
The Doctor looked down at the device in his hand sceptically. “Why would I want a mobile phone? What do you expect me to actually do with it?”
Rose sighed. “You sound like my Grandma Prentice used to, all, ‘What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until I get back to my phone at home, anyway?’ I thought you, of all people, would appreciate a bit of technology.”
“But that’s just it, Rose! I wouldn’t really call this ‘technology’, strictly speaking. Frankly, though this world might be a little more advanced than your old one, 21st century Earth telecommunications in any universe is about as advanced as a few cans and a connecting piece of string. In fact, I just bet I could do better with only that. Where do you get string around here?”
“From the supermarket, probably,” Rose suggested with a sly grin.
Predictably, the Doctor shuddered and looked sort of ill. After that one time she’d sent him out to do the weekly shop and he’d come back with only four different kinds of whipped cream, a lot of empty chocolate wrappers and a glazed look that suggested he was about to enter some kind of sugar coma, she’d decided that the Doctor and monotonous but necessary tasks just didn’t mix; he got too easily side-tracked when something wasn’t interesting enough to hold his attention, which could only ever lead to one kind of disaster or another. When he’d finally got over his massive stomach ache, he’d readily agreed to stay away from grocery shopping in future.
She was fully prepared to use that against him now, of course.
“You could go get me some string,” the Doctor suggested, trying to come up with some compromise between the ‘useless’ mobile phone and the dreaded gauntlet of the supermarket.
“I don’t need to get you some string, though,” Rose reminded him. “Not when I already got you a proper mobile phone all of your own. A 'thanks' would be nice, by the way.”
The Doctor grumbled something that sounded distinctly like he was considering experimenting with whether or not it was possible to successfully flush a whole phone down the loo.
“Look, you can do whatever you need to fix the phone up so that you can contact the planet Zephora or send a message to Christopher Columbus or whatever it takes to convince you it’s actually a valuable tool, but just don’t destroy it, all right? It’s how Torchwood will contact you. You wouldn’t want to miss out on the action just because you were somewhere across town, would you?”
The Doctor shook his head. “Why can’t they just call your phone?”
“Yeah,” Rose snorted, “because there’s no chance we’re ever gonna end up separated somehow in the middle of an alien invasion. That’s never happened before, right?”
“We’d be fine if you’d just learn Rule Number One, Rose,” the Doctor insisted.
“Who says I’m the one who keeps on wanderin’ off, then?”
The Doctor looked very put out by the implication that he could somehow be the one in the wrong on that count.
Rose quickly forestalled the inevitable further argument that she could tell was brewing by adding, “It’d make me really happy if you’d keep it with you.”
He looked like he was wavering.
“And I bet you ten quid I can find a way to make sure you don’t regret it at all if you do,” she continued. She smiled temptingly at him, knowing he could never turn down such a challenge from her.
“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “You’re on. But when you lose, I get to break it down and turn it into spare parts for the new screwdriver I’m building.”
Rose, completely certain of her impending win - for once she knew something that the Doctor didn’t seem to - said, “Deal.”
* * *
The stupid phone was buzzing, and although the Doctor couldn’t deny that the vibration against his leg was strangely pleasant, he had much better things to do than spend time searching through all the bits and pieces stuffed in his bigger-on-the-inside jacket pocket to find the one thing he’d rather not be keeping in there, actually.
Finally, he brandished the phone triumphantly only to find that after all that he’d still missed the call. And it was from Rose, too, who was just about the only person who had his number that he would actually want to speak to right now. If it had been someone else from Torchwood, he probably would have just hung up on them anyway. After all, they’d sent him out here to wait for over an hour now with no sign that anything interesting was ever going to happen. That didn’t put him in a particularly charitable mood towards them at all.
Before he could return the call, the phone let out four staccato beeps that indicated he’d received a message.
Haven’t seen u all day. Miss me? it read. He didn’t even have to look to know that the sender was Rose.
The Doctor fondly imagined her cheeky smile.
Of course. Have you been making trouble while I’ve been gone? he sent in reply.
U no me. Always.
Where are you? he asked
@ home, in the bedroom.
The Doctor’s eyebrows rose slightly. What trouble could you possibly be getting into there?
O u have no idea... But i spose i cud sho u l8r. Give u a crash course in my fav kinda trouble 2nite maybe? :P
The Doctor squinted at the phone for a second before his brain almost simultaneously realised what it was she could possibly be talking about and promptly seemed to short-circuit.
Honestly, what was she trying to do to him?
His hands shook slightly as he sent a return text.
Well, you know how much of a knowledge seeker I am. I just don’t think I can wait that long to find out, especially if you’re already getting up to something now. Maybe you could tell me about it instead?
Gods, he could just imagine the wicked smile that would break across her face as she read that. He had a fairly good idea of exactly what he’d just let himself in for, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care much. It certainly beat standing around waiting for nothing.
I dunno... Rose sent back. I’m undressin 2 get in the shower... Mite b hard 2 keep txtin... Maybe u shud tell me wot ur doin instead, hmm?
The Doctor flushed bright red at the thought of her slipping off her clothes, readying herself to go stand under the warm spray and rub soap over every inch of her body... His eyes darted around him as if one of the many passers-by milling around could somehow be reading over his shoulder, or could just tell what he was doing by looking at him. The massive blush would certainly make it easier for them to figure out, he had to admit.
I can’t really do much of anything just now, sorry. the Doctor wrote. I’m standing in the middle of Hyde Park surrounded by people.
Rubbish. Loads we cud do rite out where ne1 cud b watchin. I’d reach 4 ur hand then slowly shift em both under ur jacket where no1 cud c. Bet I cud make u squirm w/o em noing we werent just innocently holdin hands.
The Doctor shivered.
Minx. I want that too. But that’s not for today. Today I want to hear all about what you’re doing right now, in our bedroom.
O, well, I’m reeeaaallly busy right now. I mite have 2 put down the phone. Important things 2 do, u no.
You know, you only really need to have one hand free to text. You could do all kind of things without putting the phone down.
ORLY? XD But wot will i do with the other hand then?
You tell me.
I spose i mite slip my fingers in2 the string of my underwear and slowly work the lace down my thighs. My knees mite b pressed up against my chest as I push my underwear down to my ankles.
Are they dangling off those heels of yours?
Took my shoes off earlier. 2 bad rite? I no it drives u crazy 2 c me like that.
We’ll get to that later, definitely. the Doctor promised. Are you doing anything else with that spare hand of yours now?
No. U r. Ur runnin ur fingers over my bare hip, u tease. Now theyre movin inwards, now down, down, down... they feel so good as they rub over me and find their way 2 discover where im gettin all wet 4 u... need you so bad...
The Doctor thought his now-annoyingly-fragile single heart might beat its way straight out of his chest at that. He was about to have a meltdown in the middle of a crowd of people, including a bunch of children playing not too far away, and he just bet that every single person who saw him would be able to tell exactly what made him suddenly fall to the ground with a slack look on his face, twitching like a maniac.
He had to get away from there. No, scratch that. He had to get to Rose. Immediately, or preferably sooner. What he wouldn’t give for a working TARDIS right about then.
Hold that thought. he texted. I’m suddenly feeling very sure that no aliens are going to show up here this afternoon after all. I’ll be home in 20 minutes.
Mmm, dont think i can w8 that long...
10! I’ll be there in 10 MINUTES. Now excuse me while I go break every traffic law in London.
The Doctor couldn’t believe he didn’t get into an accident on the way there, as single-mindedly eager as she’d made him. He also nearly kicked down the front door out of pure frustrated need to be inside when he reached the flat only to fumble endlessly with his keys, trying to unlock the door. When he finally did get inside, he practically stormed into the bedroom and bore down on Rose.
“’Bout time,” she said, before he snatched up her still-busy hands and pinned them to the mattress possessively.
“I thought those were supposed to be my hands that were touching you,” he reminded her sternly.
“I certainly imagined they were,” Rose replied, grinning.
The Doctor raised one of her hands to his lips and tasted the residual tang of her, moaning slightly before letting the digits pop free.
“Well now my actual hands are ready and available,” he let go of her wrists and wiggled his fingers demonstratively, “so I’ll take it from here, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m all yours,” Rose said, splaying her arms wide across the bed sheets in a clear invitation.
“Too right you are,” the Doctor said before taking up the task that her hand had been performing before he’d so rudely interrupted her.
“Good to know that I’m not the only one who was worked up,” he remarked.
“Why d’you think I did all that? You’d been gone all day and I wanted you home as soon as possible to take care of me.”
“Like this?” the Doctor asked, lowering himself down her body slowly, his lips marking his path.
“Yeah,” Rose said breathily. “Yeah, that’s a really, really, really good staarrtttt!”
Of course, Rose was completely right about that. It was only the start.
* * *
“Told you I’d prove the phone could be worthwhile,” Rose gloated as she shifted her head to use his chest as a kind of pillow. “Betcha don’t wanna get rid of it now, do you?”
“Just don’t ever do that on a day when we’re likely - more likely than usual, I mean - to end up running for our lives,” the Doctor warned, “or I might just tell the aliens that they need to take a tea break while I go off and have my wicked way with you.”
“Mmm. Think that’d actually work? ’Cause it sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”
The Doctor laughed. “Well, if it doesn’t, the world will be thoroughly doomed, because there’s no way I can stand up to a spaceship full of hostile individuals when you’ve made my knees go all weak and useless. Imagine me trying to keep up with some unnameable menace with my knees all jelly-like!”
“Your knees seemed to be workin’ just fine before. Better than fine, in fact.”
“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor admonished. “I’m never going to get back to work if you keep on like that.”
“Obviously that’s my master plan to make Torchwood finally realise they should assign us the same days off every week. Genius, no?”
The Doctor cocked his head slightly, thinking about it, and then shrugged. “It definitely makes sense to me, and I’ve got a much bigger and more discerning brain than your stepfather and the other desk-riders at Torchwood, so they should be even more easily persuaded.”
“Right then. I’ll just go tell my Dad that he needs to rewrite the roster so that I can shag my boyfriend silly more often, shall I?”
The Doctor grinned. “As long as you don’t tell your Mum that, I think that sounds like a plan!”
“Yeah, well, you would say that. Bet you ten quid you wouldn’t do it.”
The Doctor thought about that for a moment, deciding he really did need to win that money back - he didn’t actually have ten pounds to pay up for losing the phone bet, after all. He smiled mysteriously and slipped out gently from underneath her, climbing out of bed and getting immediately redressed despite the fact that he really probably needed a shower. He’d already spent quite enough of his shift AWOL, though, and he doubted it would make much difference to the aliens (presuming they ever did show up at all) if he smelled like sex.
Rose frowned as she watched him get ready so quickly. “Doctor, you’re not... Tell me you’re not really... No, c’mon, what d’you think you’re doin’?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Rose?” the Doctor teased. “I have a bet to win.”
“Doctor, you can’t really - Doctor!”
The Doctor merely strode out of the room with, for once, a devious sort of smile of his own gracing his lips at that Rose’s clear panic that something out of her full control might be happening today.
Of course he’d never actually say a word (unless Rose really wanted him to, in which case he thought he’d might have reached the stage by now where he’d probably be willing to literally yell it from the rooftops).
But after she’d made such a point of leading him around on a metaphorical leash today, the Doctor thought it might be about time Rose got at least a tiny taste of her own medicine.
~FIN~