Fic: No Rest For The... (1/2)
Title: No Rest For The...
Author: karen
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: This part, PG-13, higher later
Spoilers: Set sometime after The Doctor Dances
Summary: Rose had a way of making him forget the few rules he actually lived by.
Disclaimer: BBC owns all.
Author's Notes: I got many requests to write a sequel to Restless. So here it is. My first attempt at a completely male POV. Can probably be read as a standalone, mostly, but it'd make more sense to read the first one. Many thanks to my betas kalleah and missperkigoth.
For the second time in very recent memory, he’d come very close to crossing a very important line. One that shouldn’t be crossed under any circumstances. But Rose…Rose had a way of making him forget the few rules he actually lived by.
The first time was when they were trapped in the hospital, waiting on Captain Jack to rescue them. He had been trying to appear at least a little bit gallant while waiting to be saved by the flashy new bloke with the Spock technology. The bloke that seemed to have swept his Rose a bit off her feet, and whose fault it was (oh and he just knew it then too) that they had been trapped by gas mask zombies anyway.
And then Rose had gone and implied that he was asexual. Didn’t dance!
Now, he’d been doing his best not to disavow her of such a thought ever since he’d met her. There were rules, after all. Lines not to cross. So if Rose thought that he had no interest in shagging her, well, that was perfectly well and good.
But to think he wasn’t capable? That just wasn’t on. He was no testosterone-driven ape, but he was male. And that sort of insult couldn’t be abided. And he wanted her. In that moment he knew it beyond a doubt. He had resolved, against his better judgment, that showing her his ‘moves,’ and thus firmly disavowing her of her incorrect notion, was more important than his feeble attempt to break them out of their de facto cell.
Bless her lovely uninjured hands, they’d saved him from making that mistake.
And now again, only a few moments ago, he’d somehow found himself in a dangerous situation, alone with her. The conversation had turned frank regarding his biological urges. Well, almost frank. He’d deflected off himself by asking Rose about her sexual past. He’d thought that perhaps thinking about her with other men would cool his growing desire for her, but it really hadn’t helped at all.
The only solution was to leave the room as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t resist having the last word, apparently insulting her in the process. He had been sorry for it, but still strode out of the room at a fast clip before her anger erupted and called him back to her.
He’d been aching to kiss her then. Centimeters from her, the desire pushing through her anger had been almost palpable. Now he knew, without a doubt, that she wanted him too. But sanity had stepped between them just as he was bringing his lips to hers-reminded him how wrong it was to kiss her, how he had little right to do so. Still, his male pride had been stung and he whispered in her ear a simple, otherwise mundane, phrase that had come out sounding downright filthy.
The solution he’d come to was still, he had reminded himself, the only viable course of action, and he did leave her then. But it didn’t stop him from imagining he’d followed through with that kiss. Imagining how he could have hauled her against the wall, shoved requisite clothing out of the way and had her right there. Or pulled her into the library, stripped her bare and enjoyed her moans and the sound of their naked flesh on the worn leather of his favorite couch as soundtrack to what he was sure would be some fantastic shagging.
His pace down the hall quickened with is heartsbeat as his imagined fantasies began to cause a very real physical reaction in him. It wasn’t often that he felt the urge to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, to assuage this particular kind of ache. And, in fact, never in this body-yet. But that urge was rising, fast.
He found his bedroom quickly and began to undress, only getting as far as his boots and socks before his overactive brain intruded on his plans again. He wasn’t a testosterone-driven ape, he reminded himself. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Rose, and furthermore, he’d be doing her a disservice. He wouldn’t use her image in this way. Never mind that she’d never find out about it.
So he threw himself, still almost entirely clothed, on the bed, laced his fingers behind his head and resolutely stared at the ceiling and successfully willed his body to calm itself. He was after all, a Lord of Time, and master of his body and mind.
And so, when he heard a knock at his door some time later and was struck by a nearly uncontrollable urge to haul himself up and drag back on his shoes-because she’d never seen his toes before-he was certainly not thinking of how undignified that might be. He was positively NOT flustered and so should endeavor to appear quite collected in front of Rose who was undoubtedly at the door. He held his position. And waited.
There was another knock. Oh. He hadn’t actually answered.
“Come in,” he called, pleased it sounded casual and confident.
Rose opened the door slowly and entered, and he let out a brief quiet sigh of relief. If it hadn’t been her…well, he didn’t really want to deal with Jack right now.
She looked around briefly and made her way towards the bed.
“Not disturbing you am I? Were you sleeping?”
“Nah, slept the other day. Just thinking.”
She nodded and made a sound that sounded a bit like a skeptical hum. Then she sat at the edge of the bed, mercifully facing away from him.
She was silent. He let the quiet stretch between them for a few moments longer before he shifted with a loud sigh, scooted to sit up against the headboard and crossed his arms.
“Well?” he prompted.
“You were rude.”
This he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this wasn’t it.
“I was…rude? How was I rude?”
“We were having a conversation. And… and you just left.”
“Then you yelled at me. That’s rude too.”
“I meant after I yelled at you. We were still…talking.”
“If you call that talking, I guess.” That didn’t sound right at all. Too low, too…too damn filled with that desire he’d just won a victory over. Again, he realized the impact his words could have a second too late. He’d meant this conversation to go in a completely different direction. Set Rose straight. Apologize for teasing her earlier, tell her flirting was all well and good, but he was a Time Lord and she a companion and nothing would come of any of this, and that would be that. And oh, he really wished she’d turn around.
And then she did. She curled one leg up on the bed, and left the other dangling as she turned to face him, her dark eyes boring into him. She seemed to survey him for a second.
“Doctor?” she asked very quietly, holding his eyes with hers.
He swallowed. Took a calming breath.
“Yes, Rose?”
She seemed about to say something, but then she tossed her hair and broke his gaze. She glanced around herself and he drew in a quick breath as he saw her finally notice his bare feet.
“You have lovely feet.”
He chuckled loudly, letting out his held breath. “Thank you. I work out. Is that what you came in here to say?” Why was he refocusing their conversation when she’d so clearly just handed him a distraction?
“No.” She seemed at loss for words for a second, then began again. “You know, I’ve never been in your room before. Didn’t even really know where it was. Tardis led me. Guess she approves.”
“Approves? Approves of what?”
“Us…talking.”
Oh dear, they really had invented yet another euphemism.
“So tell me.”
“What?”
“Our conversation, earlier? We established you were rude and left. So now, tell me.”
What was she on about now? And when had she scooted up on the bed? How and why had she ended up on his bed, with him, in the middle of the night, talking? Talking about talking.
“Tell you what?”
She sighed like he was being thick. “How it’s better? With a Time Lord?”
“Ah.” So she’d decided to get to the point then. He struggled for an answer that would be an appropriate end to the inappropriate conversation and would get her safely from the room, while leaving his ego intact. But what he said, and rather smugly at that, was, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
He widened his eyes as she shimmied further up the bed, leaning on one arm, half-lying at his side. She placed one fingertip boldly on his chest, and he felt like he might just burst into flames at the delicate contact.
“D’you know what I think, Doctor? I think maybe you don’t kiss at all.”
All right this had gone far enough. No, no it hasn’t, cried the proverbial devil on his shoulder. And as Rose’s hand flattened, began to lightly stroke his chest as she awaited his answer, he knew now that that tiny red-suited voice would be the one to win out.
He grabbed her wrist and stopped the movements of her hand.
“First dancing, now kissing? Rose Tyler, I think I’ve had enough of you calling my…talents into question.”
She let out a surprised squeak as he used her captive wrist to roll her gently but swiftly beneath him. He wedged a knee between her thighs and held his upper body just off her, as he looked down at the vision beneath him.
A blush had risen in her cheeks. Her chest heaved slightly, as if straining for contact. He focused on her lips. Begging to be kissed, they were. She darted her delightful tongue out to moisten them.
“So what are you going to do about it? Besides avoid my questions? You gonna tell me?”
“Nope.” And it was quite clear that he intended to show her as he lowered his head and captured her lips with his.
tbc
Author: karen
Character/Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: This part, PG-13, higher later
Spoilers: Set sometime after The Doctor Dances
Summary: Rose had a way of making him forget the few rules he actually lived by.
Disclaimer: BBC owns all.
Author's Notes: I got many requests to write a sequel to Restless. So here it is. My first attempt at a completely male POV. Can probably be read as a standalone, mostly, but it'd make more sense to read the first one. Many thanks to my betas kalleah and missperkigoth.
For the second time in very recent memory, he’d come very close to crossing a very important line. One that shouldn’t be crossed under any circumstances. But Rose…Rose had a way of making him forget the few rules he actually lived by.
The first time was when they were trapped in the hospital, waiting on Captain Jack to rescue them. He had been trying to appear at least a little bit gallant while waiting to be saved by the flashy new bloke with the Spock technology. The bloke that seemed to have swept his Rose a bit off her feet, and whose fault it was (oh and he just knew it then too) that they had been trapped by gas mask zombies anyway.
And then Rose had gone and implied that he was asexual. Didn’t dance!
Now, he’d been doing his best not to disavow her of such a thought ever since he’d met her. There were rules, after all. Lines not to cross. So if Rose thought that he had no interest in shagging her, well, that was perfectly well and good.
But to think he wasn’t capable? That just wasn’t on. He was no testosterone-driven ape, but he was male. And that sort of insult couldn’t be abided. And he wanted her. In that moment he knew it beyond a doubt. He had resolved, against his better judgment, that showing her his ‘moves,’ and thus firmly disavowing her of her incorrect notion, was more important than his feeble attempt to break them out of their de facto cell.
Bless her lovely uninjured hands, they’d saved him from making that mistake.
And now again, only a few moments ago, he’d somehow found himself in a dangerous situation, alone with her. The conversation had turned frank regarding his biological urges. Well, almost frank. He’d deflected off himself by asking Rose about her sexual past. He’d thought that perhaps thinking about her with other men would cool his growing desire for her, but it really hadn’t helped at all.
The only solution was to leave the room as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t resist having the last word, apparently insulting her in the process. He had been sorry for it, but still strode out of the room at a fast clip before her anger erupted and called him back to her.
He’d been aching to kiss her then. Centimeters from her, the desire pushing through her anger had been almost palpable. Now he knew, without a doubt, that she wanted him too. But sanity had stepped between them just as he was bringing his lips to hers-reminded him how wrong it was to kiss her, how he had little right to do so. Still, his male pride had been stung and he whispered in her ear a simple, otherwise mundane, phrase that had come out sounding downright filthy.
The solution he’d come to was still, he had reminded himself, the only viable course of action, and he did leave her then. But it didn’t stop him from imagining he’d followed through with that kiss. Imagining how he could have hauled her against the wall, shoved requisite clothing out of the way and had her right there. Or pulled her into the library, stripped her bare and enjoyed her moans and the sound of their naked flesh on the worn leather of his favorite couch as soundtrack to what he was sure would be some fantastic shagging.
His pace down the hall quickened with is heartsbeat as his imagined fantasies began to cause a very real physical reaction in him. It wasn’t often that he felt the urge to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, to assuage this particular kind of ache. And, in fact, never in this body-yet. But that urge was rising, fast.
He found his bedroom quickly and began to undress, only getting as far as his boots and socks before his overactive brain intruded on his plans again. He wasn’t a testosterone-driven ape, he reminded himself. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Rose, and furthermore, he’d be doing her a disservice. He wouldn’t use her image in this way. Never mind that she’d never find out about it.
So he threw himself, still almost entirely clothed, on the bed, laced his fingers behind his head and resolutely stared at the ceiling and successfully willed his body to calm itself. He was after all, a Lord of Time, and master of his body and mind.
And so, when he heard a knock at his door some time later and was struck by a nearly uncontrollable urge to haul himself up and drag back on his shoes-because she’d never seen his toes before-he was certainly not thinking of how undignified that might be. He was positively NOT flustered and so should endeavor to appear quite collected in front of Rose who was undoubtedly at the door. He held his position. And waited.
There was another knock. Oh. He hadn’t actually answered.
“Come in,” he called, pleased it sounded casual and confident.
Rose opened the door slowly and entered, and he let out a brief quiet sigh of relief. If it hadn’t been her…well, he didn’t really want to deal with Jack right now.
She looked around briefly and made her way towards the bed.
“Not disturbing you am I? Were you sleeping?”
“Nah, slept the other day. Just thinking.”
She nodded and made a sound that sounded a bit like a skeptical hum. Then she sat at the edge of the bed, mercifully facing away from him.
She was silent. He let the quiet stretch between them for a few moments longer before he shifted with a loud sigh, scooted to sit up against the headboard and crossed his arms.
“Well?” he prompted.
“You were rude.”
This he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this wasn’t it.
“I was…rude? How was I rude?”
“We were having a conversation. And… and you just left.”
“Then you yelled at me. That’s rude too.”
“I meant after I yelled at you. We were still…talking.”
“If you call that talking, I guess.” That didn’t sound right at all. Too low, too…too damn filled with that desire he’d just won a victory over. Again, he realized the impact his words could have a second too late. He’d meant this conversation to go in a completely different direction. Set Rose straight. Apologize for teasing her earlier, tell her flirting was all well and good, but he was a Time Lord and she a companion and nothing would come of any of this, and that would be that. And oh, he really wished she’d turn around.
And then she did. She curled one leg up on the bed, and left the other dangling as she turned to face him, her dark eyes boring into him. She seemed to survey him for a second.
“Doctor?” she asked very quietly, holding his eyes with hers.
He swallowed. Took a calming breath.
“Yes, Rose?”
She seemed about to say something, but then she tossed her hair and broke his gaze. She glanced around herself and he drew in a quick breath as he saw her finally notice his bare feet.
“You have lovely feet.”
He chuckled loudly, letting out his held breath. “Thank you. I work out. Is that what you came in here to say?” Why was he refocusing their conversation when she’d so clearly just handed him a distraction?
“No.” She seemed at loss for words for a second, then began again. “You know, I’ve never been in your room before. Didn’t even really know where it was. Tardis led me. Guess she approves.”
“Approves? Approves of what?”
“Us…talking.”
Oh dear, they really had invented yet another euphemism.
“So tell me.”
“What?”
“Our conversation, earlier? We established you were rude and left. So now, tell me.”
What was she on about now? And when had she scooted up on the bed? How and why had she ended up on his bed, with him, in the middle of the night, talking? Talking about talking.
“Tell you what?”
She sighed like he was being thick. “How it’s better? With a Time Lord?”
“Ah.” So she’d decided to get to the point then. He struggled for an answer that would be an appropriate end to the inappropriate conversation and would get her safely from the room, while leaving his ego intact. But what he said, and rather smugly at that, was, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
He widened his eyes as she shimmied further up the bed, leaning on one arm, half-lying at his side. She placed one fingertip boldly on his chest, and he felt like he might just burst into flames at the delicate contact.
“D’you know what I think, Doctor? I think maybe you don’t kiss at all.”
All right this had gone far enough. No, no it hasn’t, cried the proverbial devil on his shoulder. And as Rose’s hand flattened, began to lightly stroke his chest as she awaited his answer, he knew now that that tiny red-suited voice would be the one to win out.
He grabbed her wrist and stopped the movements of her hand.
“First dancing, now kissing? Rose Tyler, I think I’ve had enough of you calling my…talents into question.”
She let out a surprised squeak as he used her captive wrist to roll her gently but swiftly beneath him. He wedged a knee between her thighs and held his upper body just off her, as he looked down at the vision beneath him.
A blush had risen in her cheeks. Her chest heaved slightly, as if straining for contact. He focused on her lips. Begging to be kissed, they were. She darted her delightful tongue out to moisten them.
“So what are you going to do about it? Besides avoid my questions? You gonna tell me?”
“Nope.” And it was quite clear that he intended to show her as he lowered his head and captured her lips with his.
tbc