FIC: "Equal and Opposite" 6/10, NC-17, Ten/Rose
Title: Equal and Opposite
Author: Amanda Rex, amandarex
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: NC-17, M
Spoilers: All of S1, S2, and S3 up to "The Lazarus Experiment"
Summary: As the Doctor discovered during the events of "The Runaway Bride", an excess of Huon particles can send you straight to the TARDIS, if you're not careful. What if Rose carried enough residual Huon energy after absorbing the Heart of the TARDIS in "The Parting of the Ways" to pull her through the Void and back to the Doctor?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the laptop this was written on. You know it, I know it.
Warnings: This isn't the usual, happy reunion fic. Warnings for dark and unhappy moments.
Author's Notes: I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader for all of her time and support, dynapink. Couldn't do it without you. Concrit on this fic is welcome. I would also like to thank scifiangel, corruptinnocent, iwillrememberu, svanderslice, firefaery2, hannagreen20, calapine, megoddess2, ellenscult, blackadder72, calleigh-j, jen-chan13, effulgent-girl, misscam, isolus-gurl, eulalumel, monkeefan1 for their contributions to a thread I posted on time_and_chips, which helped me a great deal with Chapter 6 of this fic.
Earlier parts: Teaser | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
The TARDIS doors slammed shut behind them, the noise harsh and abrupt. A moment later, her hands were on his shoulders and she pushed him back, their faces close as they breathed hard, both of them trying to recover from their sprint.
She stopped just short of letting their bodies touch. She could feel their clothes brushing against each other, but she wouldn't allow any closer contact just yet. He tried to press forward, straining against her hands, but she pushed back and he relented. She knew he could move if he wanted to, but he seemed to be letting her take the lead.
She stretched forward and bumped her nose against his, moving slowly to nuzzle his cheek. His mouth found her neck as her movements bared it to him. He nipped gently at her, pressing his lips to her skin for long moments as her hands tightened, grabbing handfuls of his coat. His tongue flicked out for a brief moment and he groaned deep in his throat.
"Rose," he whispered, his breath tickling her over-sensitized skin, "can I do that again?"
She pulled back in confusion. "Yes, of course you can."
"I'm not sure you understand. One taste, Rose, and I know more about you than you can imagine. It's an intrusion. You should understand that before you-"
"I don't have anything to hide from you."
He fixed her with a long, insistent stare, his breaths coming slower and deeper. Rose was about to beg him to touch her, to kiss her, to do something, but she couldn't decide on the words. It was then that he began to move, deliberately enough that she trembled in anticipation.
He gently pushed her head to the side, cradling her cheek in his hand as his mouth swept downward to her throat. The kisses were slow, but relentless. His lips brushed her skin first, followed by his tongue pressing gently against her skin, only to move to another area to explore and learn. It was slow and rhythmic, and it lulled her into matching his tempo, moving her body against his.
"Rose," he said, his voice low and dangerous. His free hand slid under her shirt, his palm resting just below her bra. "You're blinding me."
"I need you, Doctor," she told him, her throat scratchy, as though the words were being ripped from her. "Please," she begged, pulling uselessly and inelegantly at his clothes.
"Not here," he told her, and she immediately shook her head against him.
"Yes," she argued, only to moan in protest when he pushed her back.
He answered with a hard, relentless kiss. She might have considered it violent if she hadn't been pushing back against him just as hard. His arms came under hers, twining around her body, urging her to move.
She fought him, her impatience screaming within her that there was no more time to waste. Why should they move when they were together, and that was all they'd ever really needed?
He didn't seem to agree, urging her on even as they bumped into walls and their feet tangled together. Each of their stumbles only meant they had to cling even closer to each other, lips and tongues and hands searching to maintain contact.
She soon learned he had been steering them to her room, the oddly preserved relic that it had become in her absence. When they were safely inside and he'd turned the tables by pressing her into the wall near the door, his arm flicked out and they were bathed in a warm, gentle light.
He looked questioningly at her, as though he anticipated a protest from her.
"I want to see you, too," she whispered, running her hands slowly down his chest. He watched every inch of their descent, then responded by taking off his coat and letting it pool behind him on the floor. She reversed the path her hands had taken, lost in the feel of his body until his hands covered hers.
"Can I-?" he said, the two words making no sense on their own, but Rose knew what he wanted from her. He released her hands and she twisted the bottom edge of her shirt in her fingers, pulling it up and over her head. She removed the rest of her clothes as smoothly as she could, moving slowly as he openly gazed at her body. She didn't want him to see how she was shaking, afraid it would make him think that she had doubts.
He rewarded her courage by running his fingertips lightly over her shoulders, dipping back to trace the curves of her back with his hands. His touch, light and maddening, made her shiver. Her muscles twitched as he explored her shoulders, first with his hands, but soon, with his mouth.
She pushed him back a step, then tugged inarticulately at his tie, willing him to understand. A hint of a smile passed over his eyes as he undid the knot, slipping it slowly from his collar and then handing it to her like a trophy.
His shoes were next, so utterly inappropriate for the formality of the suit, but so completely him that she smiled behind one hand as she helped him kick them off. His suit disappeared a piece at a time, and then his pale skin was glowing in the dim light.
She brought her hand tentatively forward to trace the lines of his chest. He bore a moment of her exploration before it must have been too much, when his head dropped back, allowing her to stare at the long, strong length of his neck.
She kissed him there, just as he'd kissed her. They came together, her warm body against his deliciously cool skin, reminding her of all the differences between them that no longer seemed to matter.
"Rose, are you nervous?" he asked, his voice quiet and intimate.
She pulled away just long enough to answer. "A bit," she admitted, not wanting him to give him an excuse to take it all back.
"I'm terrified," he told her, almost joking, but she could hear the seriousness behind it.
She stepped back toward the bed and held out her hand to him. He took it and she pulled him back to the bed, sitting down as soon as she felt the backs of her legs against the duvet. She shimmied back, wondering if she looked ridiculous. If the look on his face was any indication, she didn't.
"I've seen a lot of things, Rose. Terrible things, and wonderful things. I've seen nearly every notable event in the history of the universe at least once, but nothing as breathtaking as you, lying there."
"Doctor, can you remind me of something?" she asked, and he nodded, a glazed look in his widened eyes as she arched her back. "Did I ever tell you that you talk too much?"
He smiled a little, walking closer to her so he could run his fingertips from her ankle to her knee. "I think you might have mentioned that before."
She was about to pull him down to lie on the bed with her, but he knelt at the foot of the bed before she could. He leaned over and kissed her knee, urging her to move so he could explore the hollow behind it. The pressure, the tension built, beginning as a tightening in her stomach. She wanted more.
"Patience, Rose," he whispered. "I want to know you, every part of you." His hands ran possessively down her calves, his palms kneading and caressing her as they moved.
"I need you," she answered, pressing her head back into the pillow in frustration. She didn't know how she could possibly survive whatever he had planned.
"Perhaps I could move things along a bit," he said, and he was suddenly over her, planting open-mouthed kisses over her belly. He slid downward, his hands brushing lightly over her thighs and urging them open.
She fought a moment of panic, feeling silly for wanting to hide anything from him when just a second before, she'd been so impatient. She took a deep breath and relaxed, but then she noticed that he was hovering over her, motionless.
"Doctor?"
"I didn't know if-"
"I'm all right," she told him, gently threading her hands through his hair to reassure him.
"I thought you might not be ready."
"I am. I need you."
He parted her legs, and this time, she pushed her reservations resolutely away. He kissed the inside of her thighs first, her skin feeling almost painfully sensitive as he teased it with his lips and his tongue. He moved, sometimes closer to where she longed him to go, sometimes further away.
His hand moved to cover her, applying the gentlest pressure she could imagine. It was a gesture without even the merest suggestion of invasion. It was a request, an expression of what he longed to do, where he needed to be.
Her hips strained toward the ceiling, against the pressure of his hand. His intake of breath was sharp and long, his jaw flexing as his hand began to push against her in long pulses. She struggled to keep her eyes open through the exquisite torture of him giving her something so close to what she needed, but staying far enough away to drive her to the point of incoherence.
She concentrated what conscious thought she had left into what she wanted him to do, but he seemed to be completely unaware of her impatience. Long moments after she'd been sure she couldn't wait any longer, his hand finally moved again, baring her to him. She could feel the coolness of his skin against her almost uncomfortable warmth, one finger slipping gently inside her as another settled just above.
Her eyes clamped shut and she bit down on her lower lip, afraid that her reaction would seem silly to him.
"I want to hear you, Rose. I don't want you to hold back."
She opened her eyes and raised herself on her elbows enough to look at him again. The look in his eyes was familiar, as though all the strength and determination he had was focused on one point. She'd just never seen it directed entirely at her before.
The connection between them had been forged, solidified into something tangible that neither of them could break now. She relaxed and tried to forget about any reflex to stay quiet, to fear sounding ridiculous. It was difficult at first, becoming easier as each moan she rewarded him with made his eyes flare.
Just as she was about to beg him, forgetting any trace of the shame she'd had to shake free of, to end her torment and join their bodies together, his head dipped downward to replace his hand. The change was met with a quite fluent string of expletives from her, which she nearly regretted until she felt him smile against her.
His tongue flattened and teased, dipping inside her for a moment, then swirling around the tortured skin above. Her hands flew to his head, twisting insistently in his hair. She realized she could be hurting him and tried to relax her hands, only to be met with a sound of protest from the Doctor, who apparently enjoyed the evidence of her need for him.
She felt torn in half, thinking she would die if he stopped, but knowing she couldn't wait much longer to feel him filling her, to know the weight of his body over hers. When she thought she might have actually already gone mad, she tugged on his arms to pull him upward.
He paused, making one more long, flat, upward stroke of his tongue before he complied, whispering something about never being able to deny her anything as he settled over her. She pressed her body up and against his, but he paused, brushing his hand against her cheek and looking troubled.
"Rose, that day, on the beach-"
"Don't," she begged, barely able to squeeze the word out between long, hard breaths.
"I have to. What you told me, just before the link was br-"
She covered his mouth with her hand. "No, Doctor. Don't say it. I know. I always knew. You don't have to say the words. I don't want you to. I just want you to know that I know."
They stared at each other in silence, the Doctor brushing her hair away from her eyes as she stroked his cheek. She could feel him so close to her that it would be a matter of the smallest of movements for them to join together.
The moment came, each of them recognizing it without words. He stretched and filled her slowly, coming to a rest only when he'd buried himself completely inside her.
"I always knew," she repeated, only understanding now how much the untimely ending of their last contact on that beach in Norway had injured him. Her words seemed to strengthen him, to relieve him of that horrible burden.
She kissed him, more to complete the repair of his wound than in passion. As their lips connected, he began to move inside her. One retreat created the anticipation for the next thrust into her, his pace and force building each time.
The feeling that had begun long ago as a tension, a pressure in the center of her body, grew as she moved with him. He whispered her name into her ear, over and over until the sounds lost their definition. Only the deep, breathy timbre of his voice held any meaning for her.
His hand snaked between their bodies, teasing her as he had before. It was more than she could take and she arched against him, the tension in her finally giving way as she called out to him. He answered with his own release, continuing his thrusts until the waves of pleasure that washed over her were done.
"I always knew," she repeated.
"Shh," he told her, laying his head next to hers. "Just sleep for now, Rose."
She fought it, though she knew it was useless. "We need to start...got to find Martha..."
"We will, very soon. I'll have to leave you for a moment to take the first step, but I'll wait until you're asleep."
She wanted to know what he was thinking, why he needed to leave, and so many other things that she had trouble keeping all the questions separate in her mind. It was a losing battle. Her next question died on her lips as she slipped into slumber, her head cradled in his elbow.
On to Chapter 6
Author: Amanda Rex, amandarex
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: NC-17, M
Spoilers: All of S1, S2, and S3 up to "The Lazarus Experiment"
Summary: As the Doctor discovered during the events of "The Runaway Bride", an excess of Huon particles can send you straight to the TARDIS, if you're not careful. What if Rose carried enough residual Huon energy after absorbing the Heart of the TARDIS in "The Parting of the Ways" to pull her through the Void and back to the Doctor?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the laptop this was written on. You know it, I know it.
Warnings: This isn't the usual, happy reunion fic. Warnings for dark and unhappy moments.
Author's Notes: I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader for all of her time and support, dynapink. Couldn't do it without you. Concrit on this fic is welcome. I would also like to thank scifiangel, corruptinnocent, iwillrememberu, svanderslice, firefaery2, hannagreen20, calapine, megoddess2, ellenscult, blackadder72, calleigh-j, jen-chan13, effulgent-girl, misscam, isolus-gurl, eulalumel, monkeefan1 for their contributions to a thread I posted on time_and_chips, which helped me a great deal with Chapter 6 of this fic.
Earlier parts: Teaser | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
The TARDIS doors slammed shut behind them, the noise harsh and abrupt. A moment later, her hands were on his shoulders and she pushed him back, their faces close as they breathed hard, both of them trying to recover from their sprint.
She stopped just short of letting their bodies touch. She could feel their clothes brushing against each other, but she wouldn't allow any closer contact just yet. He tried to press forward, straining against her hands, but she pushed back and he relented. She knew he could move if he wanted to, but he seemed to be letting her take the lead.
She stretched forward and bumped her nose against his, moving slowly to nuzzle his cheek. His mouth found her neck as her movements bared it to him. He nipped gently at her, pressing his lips to her skin for long moments as her hands tightened, grabbing handfuls of his coat. His tongue flicked out for a brief moment and he groaned deep in his throat.
"Rose," he whispered, his breath tickling her over-sensitized skin, "can I do that again?"
She pulled back in confusion. "Yes, of course you can."
"I'm not sure you understand. One taste, Rose, and I know more about you than you can imagine. It's an intrusion. You should understand that before you-"
"I don't have anything to hide from you."
He fixed her with a long, insistent stare, his breaths coming slower and deeper. Rose was about to beg him to touch her, to kiss her, to do something, but she couldn't decide on the words. It was then that he began to move, deliberately enough that she trembled in anticipation.
He gently pushed her head to the side, cradling her cheek in his hand as his mouth swept downward to her throat. The kisses were slow, but relentless. His lips brushed her skin first, followed by his tongue pressing gently against her skin, only to move to another area to explore and learn. It was slow and rhythmic, and it lulled her into matching his tempo, moving her body against his.
"Rose," he said, his voice low and dangerous. His free hand slid under her shirt, his palm resting just below her bra. "You're blinding me."
"I need you, Doctor," she told him, her throat scratchy, as though the words were being ripped from her. "Please," she begged, pulling uselessly and inelegantly at his clothes.
"Not here," he told her, and she immediately shook her head against him.
"Yes," she argued, only to moan in protest when he pushed her back.
He answered with a hard, relentless kiss. She might have considered it violent if she hadn't been pushing back against him just as hard. His arms came under hers, twining around her body, urging her to move.
She fought him, her impatience screaming within her that there was no more time to waste. Why should they move when they were together, and that was all they'd ever really needed?
He didn't seem to agree, urging her on even as they bumped into walls and their feet tangled together. Each of their stumbles only meant they had to cling even closer to each other, lips and tongues and hands searching to maintain contact.
She soon learned he had been steering them to her room, the oddly preserved relic that it had become in her absence. When they were safely inside and he'd turned the tables by pressing her into the wall near the door, his arm flicked out and they were bathed in a warm, gentle light.
He looked questioningly at her, as though he anticipated a protest from her.
"I want to see you, too," she whispered, running her hands slowly down his chest. He watched every inch of their descent, then responded by taking off his coat and letting it pool behind him on the floor. She reversed the path her hands had taken, lost in the feel of his body until his hands covered hers.
"Can I-?" he said, the two words making no sense on their own, but Rose knew what he wanted from her. He released her hands and she twisted the bottom edge of her shirt in her fingers, pulling it up and over her head. She removed the rest of her clothes as smoothly as she could, moving slowly as he openly gazed at her body. She didn't want him to see how she was shaking, afraid it would make him think that she had doubts.
He rewarded her courage by running his fingertips lightly over her shoulders, dipping back to trace the curves of her back with his hands. His touch, light and maddening, made her shiver. Her muscles twitched as he explored her shoulders, first with his hands, but soon, with his mouth.
She pushed him back a step, then tugged inarticulately at his tie, willing him to understand. A hint of a smile passed over his eyes as he undid the knot, slipping it slowly from his collar and then handing it to her like a trophy.
His shoes were next, so utterly inappropriate for the formality of the suit, but so completely him that she smiled behind one hand as she helped him kick them off. His suit disappeared a piece at a time, and then his pale skin was glowing in the dim light.
She brought her hand tentatively forward to trace the lines of his chest. He bore a moment of her exploration before it must have been too much, when his head dropped back, allowing her to stare at the long, strong length of his neck.
She kissed him there, just as he'd kissed her. They came together, her warm body against his deliciously cool skin, reminding her of all the differences between them that no longer seemed to matter.
"Rose, are you nervous?" he asked, his voice quiet and intimate.
She pulled away just long enough to answer. "A bit," she admitted, not wanting him to give him an excuse to take it all back.
"I'm terrified," he told her, almost joking, but she could hear the seriousness behind it.
She stepped back toward the bed and held out her hand to him. He took it and she pulled him back to the bed, sitting down as soon as she felt the backs of her legs against the duvet. She shimmied back, wondering if she looked ridiculous. If the look on his face was any indication, she didn't.
"I've seen a lot of things, Rose. Terrible things, and wonderful things. I've seen nearly every notable event in the history of the universe at least once, but nothing as breathtaking as you, lying there."
"Doctor, can you remind me of something?" she asked, and he nodded, a glazed look in his widened eyes as she arched her back. "Did I ever tell you that you talk too much?"
He smiled a little, walking closer to her so he could run his fingertips from her ankle to her knee. "I think you might have mentioned that before."
She was about to pull him down to lie on the bed with her, but he knelt at the foot of the bed before she could. He leaned over and kissed her knee, urging her to move so he could explore the hollow behind it. The pressure, the tension built, beginning as a tightening in her stomach. She wanted more.
"Patience, Rose," he whispered. "I want to know you, every part of you." His hands ran possessively down her calves, his palms kneading and caressing her as they moved.
"I need you," she answered, pressing her head back into the pillow in frustration. She didn't know how she could possibly survive whatever he had planned.
"Perhaps I could move things along a bit," he said, and he was suddenly over her, planting open-mouthed kisses over her belly. He slid downward, his hands brushing lightly over her thighs and urging them open.
She fought a moment of panic, feeling silly for wanting to hide anything from him when just a second before, she'd been so impatient. She took a deep breath and relaxed, but then she noticed that he was hovering over her, motionless.
"Doctor?"
"I didn't know if-"
"I'm all right," she told him, gently threading her hands through his hair to reassure him.
"I thought you might not be ready."
"I am. I need you."
He parted her legs, and this time, she pushed her reservations resolutely away. He kissed the inside of her thighs first, her skin feeling almost painfully sensitive as he teased it with his lips and his tongue. He moved, sometimes closer to where she longed him to go, sometimes further away.
His hand moved to cover her, applying the gentlest pressure she could imagine. It was a gesture without even the merest suggestion of invasion. It was a request, an expression of what he longed to do, where he needed to be.
Her hips strained toward the ceiling, against the pressure of his hand. His intake of breath was sharp and long, his jaw flexing as his hand began to push against her in long pulses. She struggled to keep her eyes open through the exquisite torture of him giving her something so close to what she needed, but staying far enough away to drive her to the point of incoherence.
She concentrated what conscious thought she had left into what she wanted him to do, but he seemed to be completely unaware of her impatience. Long moments after she'd been sure she couldn't wait any longer, his hand finally moved again, baring her to him. She could feel the coolness of his skin against her almost uncomfortable warmth, one finger slipping gently inside her as another settled just above.
Her eyes clamped shut and she bit down on her lower lip, afraid that her reaction would seem silly to him.
"I want to hear you, Rose. I don't want you to hold back."
She opened her eyes and raised herself on her elbows enough to look at him again. The look in his eyes was familiar, as though all the strength and determination he had was focused on one point. She'd just never seen it directed entirely at her before.
The connection between them had been forged, solidified into something tangible that neither of them could break now. She relaxed and tried to forget about any reflex to stay quiet, to fear sounding ridiculous. It was difficult at first, becoming easier as each moan she rewarded him with made his eyes flare.
Just as she was about to beg him, forgetting any trace of the shame she'd had to shake free of, to end her torment and join their bodies together, his head dipped downward to replace his hand. The change was met with a quite fluent string of expletives from her, which she nearly regretted until she felt him smile against her.
His tongue flattened and teased, dipping inside her for a moment, then swirling around the tortured skin above. Her hands flew to his head, twisting insistently in his hair. She realized she could be hurting him and tried to relax her hands, only to be met with a sound of protest from the Doctor, who apparently enjoyed the evidence of her need for him.
She felt torn in half, thinking she would die if he stopped, but knowing she couldn't wait much longer to feel him filling her, to know the weight of his body over hers. When she thought she might have actually already gone mad, she tugged on his arms to pull him upward.
He paused, making one more long, flat, upward stroke of his tongue before he complied, whispering something about never being able to deny her anything as he settled over her. She pressed her body up and against his, but he paused, brushing his hand against her cheek and looking troubled.
"Rose, that day, on the beach-"
"Don't," she begged, barely able to squeeze the word out between long, hard breaths.
"I have to. What you told me, just before the link was br-"
She covered his mouth with her hand. "No, Doctor. Don't say it. I know. I always knew. You don't have to say the words. I don't want you to. I just want you to know that I know."
They stared at each other in silence, the Doctor brushing her hair away from her eyes as she stroked his cheek. She could feel him so close to her that it would be a matter of the smallest of movements for them to join together.
The moment came, each of them recognizing it without words. He stretched and filled her slowly, coming to a rest only when he'd buried himself completely inside her.
"I always knew," she repeated, only understanding now how much the untimely ending of their last contact on that beach in Norway had injured him. Her words seemed to strengthen him, to relieve him of that horrible burden.
She kissed him, more to complete the repair of his wound than in passion. As their lips connected, he began to move inside her. One retreat created the anticipation for the next thrust into her, his pace and force building each time.
The feeling that had begun long ago as a tension, a pressure in the center of her body, grew as she moved with him. He whispered her name into her ear, over and over until the sounds lost their definition. Only the deep, breathy timbre of his voice held any meaning for her.
His hand snaked between their bodies, teasing her as he had before. It was more than she could take and she arched against him, the tension in her finally giving way as she called out to him. He answered with his own release, continuing his thrusts until the waves of pleasure that washed over her were done.
"I always knew," she repeated.
"Shh," he told her, laying his head next to hers. "Just sleep for now, Rose."
She fought it, though she knew it was useless. "We need to start...got to find Martha..."
"We will, very soon. I'll have to leave you for a moment to take the first step, but I'll wait until you're asleep."
She wanted to know what he was thinking, why he needed to leave, and so many other things that she had trouble keeping all the questions separate in her mind. It was a losing battle. Her next question died on her lips as she slipped into slumber, her head cradled in his elbow.
On to Chapter 6