Fic: Ruler of the Roost (1/1)
Title: Ruler of the Roost
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Is it too much to ask for a little of her undivided attention?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day please. Maybe.
Betas: The ever fabulous requialexa.
Author's Notes: Third in the Pocket!verse, so a sequel to Master of his Domain, and Forever, Redux, but all you really need to know is that the Doctor and Rose have a cat called Pocket (both before Doomsday and post-reunion). Very schmoopy fluff written to cheer myself up. No spoilers (I'm unspoiled), this is just my vision (one of many) of a possible future.
Rose absently stroked the cat at her side as she flipped through the pages of the book propped up on her prominent belly.
The Doctor, next to her in bed, was growing a bit restless. Not ready for sleep, not content to lounge, he’d been through three books and 17 equations in his head which would eventually go towards repairing the latest wonky bit of TARDIS machinery, as Rose leisurely perused her reading material. But there were other things he’d rather be doing.
Rose’s hand froze mid-pet as she came to a passage that suddenly had her worried. She turned to the Doctor in alarm. “Doctor, did you know about this? It says here,” she pointed a spot in the book, “That cats carry this disease that can be really bad for babies in the womb.”
He glanced at the page. “Nothing to worry about, Rose.”
“But…” she looked over at the cat, sadly. “It says we should get rid of any pet cats. That we should get rid of Pocket!”
The cat stretched briefly and flicked her tail indignantly at hearing her name.
“That book is horribly outdated, even for your time,” he said dismissively. At Rose’s look, he continued. “We don’t have to get rid of anything, Rose. One: Pocket’s never been off this TARDIS, there’s no way she’s been infected. Two: we haven’t been on Earth, the only place that protozoan lives, since you’ve been pregnant. Three: let’s not forget, I monitor you every day for everything and would have found something so simple as a parasitic infection long ago. And four: that’s a time baby in there, our child. Got itself pretty miraculously conceived, didn’t it? It’s a fighter.”
He ran his hand over the swell of her abdomen and she relaxed slightly, reluctantly accepting his explanation. He shifted her hair and placed a warm kiss on her neck, before he continued, in a much lower tone. “Put down the book, Rose, and shoo the cat.”
She batted him away. “Seriously? You want to do this now? After talking about,” she glanced at the book, “protozoa and parasites? Not to mention I’m as big as a house. No, as big as a TARDIS. And about as sexy.”
“Oi!” he said, drawing out the syllable in his indignation. “The TARDIS is sexy! And so are you.”
She snorted in disbelief.
“You are,” he insisted, plucking her book away, kissing her briefly and moving to undo the buttons on her sleep shirt. “And it’s been weeks, Rose.”
“Weeks? First of all, it’s been…” she counted, “ten days. Second of all, we lived together for years and neither of us were getting any. Plus, you told me you’ve gone decades before.”
“I have. Many many decades sometimes. But not since… since you came back to me, since our first time, have I-“
She grinned at him. “You saying I spoil you, Doctor?”
“I’ll spoil you if you let me, Rose,” he said, his voice gone seductive again as he slid a hand beneath her partially opened shirt, pulling the material apart and placing kisses between her breasts.
Rose, giving herself over to the sensation, slid her hands into his hair, encouraging him. She let out a breathy sigh as his kisses grew bolder.
About then, Pocket meowed her discontent at seeing her mistress apparently manhandled. Deliberately, cheekily, the cat climbed up to perch on the Doctor’s shoulder, completely halting his seduction.
He swore beneath his breath and raised his head, trying to look at the offending animal.
His eyes returned to Rose’s, pleading. “I thought I told you to shoo the cat.”
The cat took the opportunity to crawl gingerly onto Rose’s belly. She meowed again at the Doctor and then settled directly upon the growing bump.
The Doctor sat back and blinked.
“Rose, Pocket just...she-”
Rose cut him off with a giggle, trying to contain her laughter so as not to disturb the cat overmuch. But her giggles soon turned to guffaws as she took in the Doctor’s indignant expression, all crossed arms and Time Lord Pout. “You’ve been,” she gasped between laughs, pointing a finger at him “CAT-blocked!”
“It’s not funny, Rose.” Yet, frustrated as he was, even he couldn’t contain a bit of a smile, warmed as he was by the sound of her laughter.
“It is!” she insisted and kept laughing, clutching Pocket to her to keep from sending the cat sprawling. The Doctor heaved a dramatic, resigned sigh and flopped down beside the pair.
Eventually Rose’s laughter died down, and she relaxed, a contented smile on her face as she rubbed the cat behind the ears. “Thanks, Pocket, I needed a laugh like that,” she cooed.
“What, I don’t make you laugh?”
“Oh of course you do, you big git!” She reached over and pet his head as well.
He leaned briefly into her touch and then moved out of her grasp to shimmy down the bed a bit until his head was level with Pocket’s, resting above Rose’s belly.
He addressed the cat directly. “Look, Pocket. I know you’ve grown rather attached to Rose again. Completely understandable! She hid kitten-you in her pocket, took you off that planet with those hopelessly misdirected people and all. Imagine, going after us like that. We were only trying to help. Some of them had pitchforks! Not only rude, but horribly clichéd. Anyway, I get it. She’s a bit like your mum, you want all her time. But she’s my… well…” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s my Rose. And that baby you’re resting upon is sapping a lot of her strength, and she sleeps so much more now (and we all know humans sleep too much as it is), so for the short while she’s awake, is it too much to ask for a little of her undivided attention? Hmm?”
He was attempting to reason with a cat, he realized.
Pocket only purred in response, her eyes beginning to close in sleep.
He sighed again, and crawled back up the bed, attempting to cuddle Rose as best he could with a fluffy feline in the way. Rose’s eyes were closed, on her way to sleep but not there yet.
She opened them part way and gazed at the Doctor. “I love you, you know,” she murmured, voice thick with adoration.
“Yes.”
“And after this baby is born, I’ll show you exactly how much.” She gave him a saucy grin.
He grinned back in response before he’d processed what she’d said. “But that’s, that’s months!” he spluttered.
“Decades?” she reminded him.
“Roooose.” He would not whine. Really. That wasn’t a whine at all. He had a bit of dignity, after all. “It’s not going to happen tonight, is it?”
“Nope. ‘M tired.” She closed her eyes again, emphasizing the point. “And Pocket has other ideas.”
“Months…” he grumbled, but she was already drifting off.
When the Doctor was sure she was asleep he gently disentangled from her. He sat up and plucked Pocket off Rose’s belly and settled her in his own lap. Better to be safe than sorry. The last thing he needed was for Rose to accidentally startle a cat in her sleep. Pocket barely stirred, adjusting to the new terrain, and settling back into contented sleep.
The two females in his life, sleeping peacefully. Well, three if you counted the TARDIS. And she did sleep sometimes. Actually, four if you counted the baby, who was also definitely sleeping. But Rose didn’t know yet that the baby would be a daughter.
The four females in his life, sleeping peacefully.
He smiled to himself at the thought of his small family, and then leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Rose’s forehead, quietly whispering, “Love you too.”
Then he reached for Rose’s discarded book and flipped through the pages, whiling away the time until one of his lovely girls woke up.
FIN
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Is it too much to ask for a little of her undivided attention?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day please. Maybe.
Betas: The ever fabulous requialexa.
Author's Notes: Third in the Pocket!verse, so a sequel to Master of his Domain, and Forever, Redux, but all you really need to know is that the Doctor and Rose have a cat called Pocket (both before Doomsday and post-reunion). Very schmoopy fluff written to cheer myself up. No spoilers (I'm unspoiled), this is just my vision (one of many) of a possible future.
Rose absently stroked the cat at her side as she flipped through the pages of the book propped up on her prominent belly.
The Doctor, next to her in bed, was growing a bit restless. Not ready for sleep, not content to lounge, he’d been through three books and 17 equations in his head which would eventually go towards repairing the latest wonky bit of TARDIS machinery, as Rose leisurely perused her reading material. But there were other things he’d rather be doing.
Rose’s hand froze mid-pet as she came to a passage that suddenly had her worried. She turned to the Doctor in alarm. “Doctor, did you know about this? It says here,” she pointed a spot in the book, “That cats carry this disease that can be really bad for babies in the womb.”
He glanced at the page. “Nothing to worry about, Rose.”
“But…” she looked over at the cat, sadly. “It says we should get rid of any pet cats. That we should get rid of Pocket!”
The cat stretched briefly and flicked her tail indignantly at hearing her name.
“That book is horribly outdated, even for your time,” he said dismissively. At Rose’s look, he continued. “We don’t have to get rid of anything, Rose. One: Pocket’s never been off this TARDIS, there’s no way she’s been infected. Two: we haven’t been on Earth, the only place that protozoan lives, since you’ve been pregnant. Three: let’s not forget, I monitor you every day for everything and would have found something so simple as a parasitic infection long ago. And four: that’s a time baby in there, our child. Got itself pretty miraculously conceived, didn’t it? It’s a fighter.”
He ran his hand over the swell of her abdomen and she relaxed slightly, reluctantly accepting his explanation. He shifted her hair and placed a warm kiss on her neck, before he continued, in a much lower tone. “Put down the book, Rose, and shoo the cat.”
She batted him away. “Seriously? You want to do this now? After talking about,” she glanced at the book, “protozoa and parasites? Not to mention I’m as big as a house. No, as big as a TARDIS. And about as sexy.”
“Oi!” he said, drawing out the syllable in his indignation. “The TARDIS is sexy! And so are you.”
She snorted in disbelief.
“You are,” he insisted, plucking her book away, kissing her briefly and moving to undo the buttons on her sleep shirt. “And it’s been weeks, Rose.”
“Weeks? First of all, it’s been…” she counted, “ten days. Second of all, we lived together for years and neither of us were getting any. Plus, you told me you’ve gone decades before.”
“I have. Many many decades sometimes. But not since… since you came back to me, since our first time, have I-“
She grinned at him. “You saying I spoil you, Doctor?”
“I’ll spoil you if you let me, Rose,” he said, his voice gone seductive again as he slid a hand beneath her partially opened shirt, pulling the material apart and placing kisses between her breasts.
Rose, giving herself over to the sensation, slid her hands into his hair, encouraging him. She let out a breathy sigh as his kisses grew bolder.
About then, Pocket meowed her discontent at seeing her mistress apparently manhandled. Deliberately, cheekily, the cat climbed up to perch on the Doctor’s shoulder, completely halting his seduction.
He swore beneath his breath and raised his head, trying to look at the offending animal.
His eyes returned to Rose’s, pleading. “I thought I told you to shoo the cat.”
The cat took the opportunity to crawl gingerly onto Rose’s belly. She meowed again at the Doctor and then settled directly upon the growing bump.
The Doctor sat back and blinked.
“Rose, Pocket just...she-”
Rose cut him off with a giggle, trying to contain her laughter so as not to disturb the cat overmuch. But her giggles soon turned to guffaws as she took in the Doctor’s indignant expression, all crossed arms and Time Lord Pout. “You’ve been,” she gasped between laughs, pointing a finger at him “CAT-blocked!”
“It’s not funny, Rose.” Yet, frustrated as he was, even he couldn’t contain a bit of a smile, warmed as he was by the sound of her laughter.
“It is!” she insisted and kept laughing, clutching Pocket to her to keep from sending the cat sprawling. The Doctor heaved a dramatic, resigned sigh and flopped down beside the pair.
Eventually Rose’s laughter died down, and she relaxed, a contented smile on her face as she rubbed the cat behind the ears. “Thanks, Pocket, I needed a laugh like that,” she cooed.
“What, I don’t make you laugh?”
“Oh of course you do, you big git!” She reached over and pet his head as well.
He leaned briefly into her touch and then moved out of her grasp to shimmy down the bed a bit until his head was level with Pocket’s, resting above Rose’s belly.
He addressed the cat directly. “Look, Pocket. I know you’ve grown rather attached to Rose again. Completely understandable! She hid kitten-you in her pocket, took you off that planet with those hopelessly misdirected people and all. Imagine, going after us like that. We were only trying to help. Some of them had pitchforks! Not only rude, but horribly clichéd. Anyway, I get it. She’s a bit like your mum, you want all her time. But she’s my… well…” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s my Rose. And that baby you’re resting upon is sapping a lot of her strength, and she sleeps so much more now (and we all know humans sleep too much as it is), so for the short while she’s awake, is it too much to ask for a little of her undivided attention? Hmm?”
He was attempting to reason with a cat, he realized.
Pocket only purred in response, her eyes beginning to close in sleep.
He sighed again, and crawled back up the bed, attempting to cuddle Rose as best he could with a fluffy feline in the way. Rose’s eyes were closed, on her way to sleep but not there yet.
She opened them part way and gazed at the Doctor. “I love you, you know,” she murmured, voice thick with adoration.
“Yes.”
“And after this baby is born, I’ll show you exactly how much.” She gave him a saucy grin.
He grinned back in response before he’d processed what she’d said. “But that’s, that’s months!” he spluttered.
“Decades?” she reminded him.
“Roooose.” He would not whine. Really. That wasn’t a whine at all. He had a bit of dignity, after all. “It’s not going to happen tonight, is it?”
“Nope. ‘M tired.” She closed her eyes again, emphasizing the point. “And Pocket has other ideas.”
“Months…” he grumbled, but she was already drifting off.
When the Doctor was sure she was asleep he gently disentangled from her. He sat up and plucked Pocket off Rose’s belly and settled her in his own lap. Better to be safe than sorry. The last thing he needed was for Rose to accidentally startle a cat in her sleep. Pocket barely stirred, adjusting to the new terrain, and settling back into contented sleep.
The two females in his life, sleeping peacefully. Well, three if you counted the TARDIS. And she did sleep sometimes. Actually, four if you counted the baby, who was also definitely sleeping. But Rose didn’t know yet that the baby would be a daughter.
The four females in his life, sleeping peacefully.
He smiled to himself at the thought of his small family, and then leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Rose’s forehead, quietly whispering, “Love you too.”
Then he reached for Rose’s discarded book and flipped through the pages, whiling away the time until one of his lovely girls woke up.
FIN