Defenders of the Earth, Chapter 8
Title: Defenders of the Earth
Author: onabearskinrug
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, with Jackie, Pete, Jake, Mickey, and others
Rating: ADULT- PLEASE NOTE THE RATING CHANGE FOR THIS CHAPTER!
Summary: AU "Doomsday." Trapped in Pete's World, Rose and the Doctor attempt to find their way back to the TARDIS while navigating Torchwood, meddling family members, and (as per usual) threats to humanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Any recognizable characters belong to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Two chapters in less than 24 hours? See what I can accomplish when I don't have to knit the universe?? Thank you to kelkat9, timelord1, and who_in_whoville for all of the help with this chapter!
Catch up here!
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
The Doctor had Rose’s hand in a vice grip the entire ride back to the hotel. He reminded Rose of a caged animal, ready to jump out of his own skin at any moment if it meant even some modicum of relief from his captivity. Rose felt completely, completely helpless. He had described hand holding as putting a band-aid on a bullet wound, and she felt that comparison acutely.
After nearly an hour of strained silence, Pete pulled the Jeep in front of the hotel. The Doctor sprang from the vehicle even before Pete had put the car in park, pulling Rose steadily towards the doors. He hadn’t even bothered to grab their coats. She sent an apologetic look back at her mum and Pete, who both nodded in understanding.
The Doctor opted to tug her up the stairs rather than wait for a lift. He was still silent, his expression still stormy as they ambled up to the third floor. He led them down the hall to their room, deftly unlocked the door and pulled her inside.
Rose had barely locked the door behind her before the Doctor was upon her.
He grasped her shoulders and spun her around to face him. She caught a split second glance of his dark, desperate gaze before his lips found hers.
The kiss was completely unlike anything they had ever shared before. He moved his mouth urgently, tongue pushing past her lips immediately and entangling with her own. Rose knew he needed her desperately, knew instinctively that there was something about the act that would make him feel less alone. She had to stay strong, had to focus on him, but she could feel herself falling into a haze of arousal so thick that she wasn't sure she could fight her way out of.
The Doctor must have felt her resistance. He pressed her back against the door frame and kissed frantically down her neck. "Rose," he breathed. "Rose, please...just...relax...you need to relax..."
"Yes," she moaned as he sucked and nibbled at her pulse point. "Doctor..."
The moment Rose had managed to choke out his name, the Doctor's desperation took on a wild edge. His hands pressed against every tiny bit of skin he could reach, massaging her neck, shoulders, and arms, gripping her denim-clad hips and stroking against her stomach. Rose was mad with want for him, every touch of his skin against hers was like liquid fire through her veins. And when he traced his hand down and over her bottom, grasping the back of her thigh and hoisting it around his hip, she nearly stopped breathing all together.
She could feel him, hot and hard against her, even through layers of denim and wool. He pressed his hips against hers, and she felt rather than heard the low growl that rumbled through his chest.
"Rose," he ground out, panting against her mouth. "I'm sorry, I can't stop. I didn't want our first time..."
"Doctor," she interrupted him, pushing her hips back against his. His breath caught. "I don't care. Really don't care. Just...make love to me...please."
The Doctor cried out desperately and began a voracious assault on her mouth as his hands began working frantically at her jumper. He let out a little frustrated whimper when his attempts to tug it over her head were halted by their kiss, so he settled for grasping either side of the v-neck and pulling, tearing it neatly down the middle before moving his oral assault to her neck and chest.
Rose was frantic through her own haze, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and down to the floor. His tie was discarded just as easily, but the buttons on his shirt presented a new challenge all together. Her hands were shaking, and it did not help her concentration any when he pulled the cups of her bra aside and began licking and suckling at her breasts.
“Doctor,” she whimpered as her fingers slid uselessly against the buttons. “Oh, God, Doctor…”
He nibbled lightly at her nipple and she moaned, the noise loud even to her own ears. With renewed fervor, she tugged the buttons free and slid the Oxford to the floor. She pulled the Doctor tightly against her, feeling a surge of heat between her legs at the desperate, pleading noise he made.
“Rose,” he panted against her mouth. “I have to tell you…telepathic…”
“I guessed that much,” she told him, moving her own lips down his neck and across his collarbone. “You need this, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” he breathed. “Need this…need you…”
She cupped his cheeks in her hands, tilting his face so she could look directly into his eyes. “Then take me. I’m yours, Doctor.”
There was very little talk from that point on.
The Doctor began working frantically at the fastenings of her jeans, letting out a brief cry of triumph once they were undone. He slid them and her knickers down her legs in one go, also slipping off her trainers and tossing the offending articles somewhere behind him. He immediately returned to Rose’s desperate kiss, grasping and stroking anywhere he could reach on the newly-exposed skin. Rose cried out against his mouth as he dipped between her legs, testing her readiness and driving her lust to further heights.
She began working with equal fervor on the clasp of his own trousers, and they slid easily from his hips to pool on the floor. She pushed down the cotton of his boxer-briefs down to follow, noting with a thrill that it was one of the pairs she had purchased for him. He didn’t even bother stepping out of the garments, instead opting to cup Rose’s bottom and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist.
He positioned himself at her entrance without preamble. They were both so far gone, panting heavily against one another’s mouths, that Rose barely registered that he was pleading softly to her in between breaths.
“I’m sorry, Rose…I can’t wait…”
“Yes, Doctor, please…”
He pressed his forehead against hers, one hand still supporting her bottom and one cupping her cheek. Seemingly in one motion, he pushed inside her body just as he pushed inside her mind.
“Ohhhhh,” he breathed, his voice flooded with the seeming impossible combination of peace and arousal. “Rose, this…your mind…”
Rose knew what he meant, but couldn’t trust herself to speak. The moment he had entered her mind, she felt a warm, happy emotion bubbling up uncontrollably. She felt safe and loved, the calm in the center of the storm. However, separate from this, she could still feel the demands of her own body, mad with want for the man currently pressed against her and inside of her, and she realized that the Doctor must have been sharing his emotions, his feelings of being sheathed inside her body and mind. She nearly wept from the intensity.
“Doctor,” she sobbed. “Please move…please…”
He nodded, gathering himself together enough to begin moving against her. Rose groaned at the delicious friction, the warmth and comfort still pulsing from their link threatening to utterly consume them both. Rose could hear the Doctor babbling nonsensically against her neck, tracing his free hand all along her body and leaving trails of stars in his wake. She knew she must have been babbling back, but she had a hard time discerning what was inside her head and what was coming from her mouth.
She could feel the tension building between them far too quickly. The Doctor began moving in earnest, his hands gripping tightly at her hips and the link flaring bright and hot between them. She was close, she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer, and when the Doctor’s nimble fingers brushed teasingly against her center, she was done for.
Her entire body was clenching deliciously in the most intense orgasm of her entire existence. She sobbed and moaned as the Doctor kissed her, his own moans and groans muffled against her mouth as he came, emptying inside her and projecting wave after wave of gorgeous, addictive emotions through their link.
Rose wasn’t entire sure if she was speaking out loud or in her mind as they came down from their shared high. It may have been both for all she knew. Still, she focused on the words with a single-minded intensity, suddenly desperate and unable to hold them back.
******
Once the stars behind his eyelids began fading, the Doctor slowly became aware of Rose lips against his hair, his cheek, his neck and their lingering link buzzing with contented warmth between them. It took him a few moments, but eventually, he knew that Rose was murmuring the same three words between each press of her lips against his skin.
“I love you,” she said, easily and freely as if this wasn’t the most precious gift in all the world. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
The Doctor cried out weakly and clutched her even closer to him, unable to say the words but flooding their mental connection with his own emotions, hoping to convey to her what she meant to him. She gasped and sagged against him, seemingly completely overwhelmed, unable to do much more than kiss him soundly.
She broke the kiss after a few moments, framing his face with her hands and regarding him intently. “Are you…okay now? Is this better?”
The Doctor sighed contentedly, pressing soft, lingering kisses anywhere he could reach. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her…what was that all about? “It is…you’ve no idea.”
“Good,” Rose whispered, returning his gentle caresses and kisses.
She was the one to break the silence first, laughing softly and pressing her forehead against his. “So…”
He grinned. “So…”
They exchanged a few more soft kisses, smiling against each other’s mouths.
“’S hard to know what to say now,” Rose murmured.
“Quite right,” he mumbled back. Rather than discuss their lack of discussion further, the Doctor opted to grip Rose under her hips and pull her away from the door, smiling as she squeaked in surprise. He managed to maneuver them over to the bed, laying her down almost reverently across it.
Their link, still strong, flared with emotion once more between them. The Doctor leaned over and kissed Rose softly, helping her out of her ruined jumper and unclasping her bra. He, in turn, slipped out of his trainers and trousers, never breaking the kiss as he stretched out alongside her.
“That…wasn’t how I’d planned for our first time,” he admitted. “You, me, against the door of our hotel room…”
“I’d not exactly planned that either,” Rose told him bashfully. “Still…I thought it was brilliant, yeah?”
“Yeah,” the Doctor told her, grinning.
They continued kissing, growing bolder in their touches and caresses as the heat built between them once more. Rose cried out as his fingers found her, hot and ready for him.
“Why don’t you show me then?” she panted against his mouth. “How you wanted it to be?”
“Rose Tyler,” he practically growled. “I’d be delighted.”
Rose giggled as he swept in for another heart-stopping kiss.
******
Some time later, the Doctor stared up at the ceiling as Rose napped beside him. He felt at peace, at least for the time being. Rose’s loving, soft presence in his mind was keeping the vast, echoing emptiness at bay.
He’d never realized it could feel quite like this, though. He could always feel his people before the Time War, but that had been millions of impersonal, stuffy minds all parading around liked they owned the place. It almost paled in comparison to the warm, glowing, and personal connection to the woman in his arms.
On Gallifrey, the mental touch of a lover was something that was always spoken about in hushed, reverent tones. As young boys at the Academy, it had become something of a taboo subject. Time Lords were supposed to be above such nonsense. Especially when the mental presence was one of a human, a seemingly inferior species with no telepathic capabilities to speak of.
He knew that their connection wasn’t permanent. This type of bond would fade eventually, the lack of skin contact relegating it to nearly nothing. It would be difficult to manage on a day-to-day basis, though not impossible. Staying in bed like this, holding her to him and making love throughout the day would keep her presence steady in his mind for some time, he hoped until they at least made it back to London. After that…
The Doctor considered Rose’s opinion on a proper bonding, the Gallifreyian equivalent to marriage. It would be…incredible, he knew, to have her steady, constant presence in his mind. Even if they managed to return to the TARDIS, sharing that level of intimacy with Rose would be an impossibly good thing…if she wanted it.
They had to prepare, first. Rose would need to be tested for telepathy, to see if her mind could withstand the bond. Most humans were receptive when they were at their most unguarded. This generally only happened when they were asleep or in the throes of passion. However, many had natural capabilities that just needed to be nurtured or enhanced. He hoped this would be the case with Rose. Having spent two years inside a telepathic time ship, any ability she might have would be primed.
Then, of course, were the obvious concerns. Would she even want him like that? Bonding was…yes, like marriage, but on an entirely different level. She would never be alone in her own mind. Certainly there would be privacy, he couldn’t just read her every thought without permission. And, with some training, she’d be able to shut him out to a certain degree. It was also permanent. The only way to break the bond was death…and not regeneration, on his part.
To the Doctor, this was not a new concept. He’d shared his consciousness with millions of other Time Lords. How would Rose react? They’d have to talk, he realized with a sigh. Should he get her a ring? He was, in a manner of speaking, asking her to marry him. He knew she didn’t need one, probably wouldn’t even expect one. Still, it was a human symbol, and it would certainly give a clear indication to any potential suitors that Rose was…unavailable.
The Doctor clutched Rose tightly to him. She was, as always, everything he needed wrapped in a fragile pink-and-yellow package. The thought both terrified and elated him.
Rose snuffled lightly and curled even tighter against him. The Doctor sighed, running his fingers up and down her arm in a feather-light caress. For the moment, he was surprisingly content. He had Rose’s consciousness buzzing peacefully in his mind, he’d just made love to her (twice…he added mentally with a smug grin), and she was curled up blissfully naked in his arms. He was warm, comfortable, and even a tad drowsy, despite sleeping at least a few hours the past two nights.
He shifted a bit, and Rose curled up on her side in an almost unconscious response. It was nearing noon, he wasn’t sure if Pete would be expecting them to make an appearance at any point today. He wasn’t too concerned, they’d have twenty-four hours in the Jeep the next day for discussion and debriefing. For now, he spooned up against Rose, one arm placed protectively over her waist and one cradling her neck, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
******
Eventually Rose and the Doctor each awoke from their respective naps. They shared a long, leisurely soak in the jacuzzi tub, stealing kisses and caresses that led to yet another enthusiastic bout of lovemaking as soon as they returned to the bed. Rose was almost in complete disbelief that their relationship had taken such a turn, so quickly. She knew he needed her, that making love kept her presence in his mind where he used to be able to feel the TARDIS, but she couldn’t help feeling just a smidge of guilt that she was so giddily happy when they were now, officially and indefinitely, Trapped-With-A-Capital-T.
The Doctor also seemed content, and she wasn’t quite ready for the real world to intrude on their little idyll quite yet. She didn’t bring up the TARDIS or Torchwood, eager to bring the Doctor some measure of peace, even just for a day. So they ordered supper in their room, the Doctor only donning a dressing gown long enough to answer the door and shedding it immediately after, joining her again in the bed with their plates as they talked and laughed through an easy dinner.
The only communication from their team was a quick text from Pete, letting Rose know that they would be leaving promptly at six the next morning. The Doctor sighed, seeming resigned when she shared this news. She wasn’t looking forward to the long drive back to London, but at least they had a mission. The sooner they returned to Torchwood, the sooner they could start working on another way to get back.
She made love to the Doctor once more that evening, undulating on top of him and loving being able to watch his face, his expressions as she moved against him. He was wonderfully vocal, praising her in a mixture of English and Gallifreyan. Their link was pulsing with emotion and pleasure, and when the Doctor gripped her hips and let out a long, desperate moan, coming undone beneath her, Rose fell instantly over the edge with him.
******
Rose awoke the next morning, still groggy in the dark room, to the Doctor’s light, teasing caresses. She hummed sleepily, reaching back to thread her finger’s in the Doctor’s hair and he brushed kisses down her neck and shoulders.
“Rose,” he whispered against her skin. “Why do you need to sleep so much?”
“Mmmm,” she replied, gasping as his long, graceful fingers dipped between her legs. “Human…”
“Pity,” he replied teasingly, though Rose noticed the unsteady quality to his voice. He pushed against her, and Rose moaned as his hard length made contact with her soft flesh.
“Doctor,” she managed to choke out even through the wicked, wicked way his fingers were playing between her legs. Despite having made love four times the day before, she felt insatiable for him. She couldn’t get enough of how he made her feel, of how she could make him feel in return. The hand that wasn’t still entangled in his hair found his own free hand, and she gripped it hard as he lifted one of her legs and slipped easily inside her.
She could feel the link between them. This sort of lovemaking was becoming addictive, the intensity of their emotions increasing tenfold with the connection that burned white-hot between them. She loved him fiercely, had told him so enough times the night before, but the fact that he could truly feel that always caused a heady rush to burn through her.
He moved slowly inside of her, his hand still playing nimbly between her legs. She was panting against the pillow, barely able to hold on to any level of coherence as the warm, delicious tension built between them. The Doctor was whispering, breathless, in her ear, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was and how incredible she made him feel.
Rose finally broke, clutching their joined hands and gripping his hair as she came, sobbing his name and pressing kisses against the arm that cradled her against him. He followed immediately after, pressing against her abdomen to keep her in place as he emptied himself inside of her.
The Doctor leaned his forehead against her shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. Despite always boasting about his respiratory bypass system, he seemed to always pant heavily after they made love. She took it as a compliment.
Rose was just about to drift off once more when the Doctor brushed a kiss across her cheek. “We need to get up, Rose. They’ll be leaving in an hour or so.”
“Don’t wanna,” she turned over and burrowed defiantly into his chest.
The Doctor chucked warmly as he stroked her hair. “Well, I don’t blame you for that. But we don’t want to miss our lift back to London. We’ll have to take a zeppelin back down.”
Rose looked up at the Doctor, who was smiling softly down at her. “Hello,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her lips.
“Hello,” she smiled back before sighing. “All right, back to reality I suppose.”
“Ah, yes…we are on a mission.”
Rose sat up in bed, glancing down at the Doctor. She’d never seen him so disheveled. Completely nude, only covered by the thin sheet settled low on his hips, his hair completely on end, face slightly darkened with stubble and wearing a lovely, satisfied smile.
She could very easily get used to him looking like this.
“C’mon,” she told him, gripping his hand. “Don’t have much time, we’ll just have to shower together. What a tragedy.”
The Doctor’s smile widened as she tugged him to the bathroom. “Oh, yes…the sacrifices we make.”
Rose giggled as the Doctor gathered her in his arms and shut the door behind them.
Next Chapter
Author: onabearskinrug
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, with Jackie, Pete, Jake, Mickey, and others
Rating: ADULT- PLEASE NOTE THE RATING CHANGE FOR THIS CHAPTER!
Summary: AU "Doomsday." Trapped in Pete's World, Rose and the Doctor attempt to find their way back to the TARDIS while navigating Torchwood, meddling family members, and (as per usual) threats to humanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Any recognizable characters belong to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Two chapters in less than 24 hours? See what I can accomplish when I don't have to knit the universe?? Thank you to kelkat9, timelord1, and who_in_whoville for all of the help with this chapter!
Catch up here!
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
The Doctor had Rose’s hand in a vice grip the entire ride back to the hotel. He reminded Rose of a caged animal, ready to jump out of his own skin at any moment if it meant even some modicum of relief from his captivity. Rose felt completely, completely helpless. He had described hand holding as putting a band-aid on a bullet wound, and she felt that comparison acutely.
After nearly an hour of strained silence, Pete pulled the Jeep in front of the hotel. The Doctor sprang from the vehicle even before Pete had put the car in park, pulling Rose steadily towards the doors. He hadn’t even bothered to grab their coats. She sent an apologetic look back at her mum and Pete, who both nodded in understanding.
The Doctor opted to tug her up the stairs rather than wait for a lift. He was still silent, his expression still stormy as they ambled up to the third floor. He led them down the hall to their room, deftly unlocked the door and pulled her inside.
Rose had barely locked the door behind her before the Doctor was upon her.
He grasped her shoulders and spun her around to face him. She caught a split second glance of his dark, desperate gaze before his lips found hers.
The kiss was completely unlike anything they had ever shared before. He moved his mouth urgently, tongue pushing past her lips immediately and entangling with her own. Rose knew he needed her desperately, knew instinctively that there was something about the act that would make him feel less alone. She had to stay strong, had to focus on him, but she could feel herself falling into a haze of arousal so thick that she wasn't sure she could fight her way out of.
The Doctor must have felt her resistance. He pressed her back against the door frame and kissed frantically down her neck. "Rose," he breathed. "Rose, please...just...relax...you need to relax..."
"Yes," she moaned as he sucked and nibbled at her pulse point. "Doctor..."
The moment Rose had managed to choke out his name, the Doctor's desperation took on a wild edge. His hands pressed against every tiny bit of skin he could reach, massaging her neck, shoulders, and arms, gripping her denim-clad hips and stroking against her stomach. Rose was mad with want for him, every touch of his skin against hers was like liquid fire through her veins. And when he traced his hand down and over her bottom, grasping the back of her thigh and hoisting it around his hip, she nearly stopped breathing all together.
She could feel him, hot and hard against her, even through layers of denim and wool. He pressed his hips against hers, and she felt rather than heard the low growl that rumbled through his chest.
"Rose," he ground out, panting against her mouth. "I'm sorry, I can't stop. I didn't want our first time..."
"Doctor," she interrupted him, pushing her hips back against his. His breath caught. "I don't care. Really don't care. Just...make love to me...please."
The Doctor cried out desperately and began a voracious assault on her mouth as his hands began working frantically at her jumper. He let out a little frustrated whimper when his attempts to tug it over her head were halted by their kiss, so he settled for grasping either side of the v-neck and pulling, tearing it neatly down the middle before moving his oral assault to her neck and chest.
Rose was frantic through her own haze, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and down to the floor. His tie was discarded just as easily, but the buttons on his shirt presented a new challenge all together. Her hands were shaking, and it did not help her concentration any when he pulled the cups of her bra aside and began licking and suckling at her breasts.
“Doctor,” she whimpered as her fingers slid uselessly against the buttons. “Oh, God, Doctor…”
He nibbled lightly at her nipple and she moaned, the noise loud even to her own ears. With renewed fervor, she tugged the buttons free and slid the Oxford to the floor. She pulled the Doctor tightly against her, feeling a surge of heat between her legs at the desperate, pleading noise he made.
“Rose,” he panted against her mouth. “I have to tell you…telepathic…”
“I guessed that much,” she told him, moving her own lips down his neck and across his collarbone. “You need this, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” he breathed. “Need this…need you…”
She cupped his cheeks in her hands, tilting his face so she could look directly into his eyes. “Then take me. I’m yours, Doctor.”
There was very little talk from that point on.
The Doctor began working frantically at the fastenings of her jeans, letting out a brief cry of triumph once they were undone. He slid them and her knickers down her legs in one go, also slipping off her trainers and tossing the offending articles somewhere behind him. He immediately returned to Rose’s desperate kiss, grasping and stroking anywhere he could reach on the newly-exposed skin. Rose cried out against his mouth as he dipped between her legs, testing her readiness and driving her lust to further heights.
She began working with equal fervor on the clasp of his own trousers, and they slid easily from his hips to pool on the floor. She pushed down the cotton of his boxer-briefs down to follow, noting with a thrill that it was one of the pairs she had purchased for him. He didn’t even bother stepping out of the garments, instead opting to cup Rose’s bottom and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist.
He positioned himself at her entrance without preamble. They were both so far gone, panting heavily against one another’s mouths, that Rose barely registered that he was pleading softly to her in between breaths.
“I’m sorry, Rose…I can’t wait…”
“Yes, Doctor, please…”
He pressed his forehead against hers, one hand still supporting her bottom and one cupping her cheek. Seemingly in one motion, he pushed inside her body just as he pushed inside her mind.
“Ohhhhh,” he breathed, his voice flooded with the seeming impossible combination of peace and arousal. “Rose, this…your mind…”
Rose knew what he meant, but couldn’t trust herself to speak. The moment he had entered her mind, she felt a warm, happy emotion bubbling up uncontrollably. She felt safe and loved, the calm in the center of the storm. However, separate from this, she could still feel the demands of her own body, mad with want for the man currently pressed against her and inside of her, and she realized that the Doctor must have been sharing his emotions, his feelings of being sheathed inside her body and mind. She nearly wept from the intensity.
“Doctor,” she sobbed. “Please move…please…”
He nodded, gathering himself together enough to begin moving against her. Rose groaned at the delicious friction, the warmth and comfort still pulsing from their link threatening to utterly consume them both. Rose could hear the Doctor babbling nonsensically against her neck, tracing his free hand all along her body and leaving trails of stars in his wake. She knew she must have been babbling back, but she had a hard time discerning what was inside her head and what was coming from her mouth.
She could feel the tension building between them far too quickly. The Doctor began moving in earnest, his hands gripping tightly at her hips and the link flaring bright and hot between them. She was close, she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer, and when the Doctor’s nimble fingers brushed teasingly against her center, she was done for.
Her entire body was clenching deliciously in the most intense orgasm of her entire existence. She sobbed and moaned as the Doctor kissed her, his own moans and groans muffled against her mouth as he came, emptying inside her and projecting wave after wave of gorgeous, addictive emotions through their link.
Rose wasn’t entire sure if she was speaking out loud or in her mind as they came down from their shared high. It may have been both for all she knew. Still, she focused on the words with a single-minded intensity, suddenly desperate and unable to hold them back.
******
Once the stars behind his eyelids began fading, the Doctor slowly became aware of Rose lips against his hair, his cheek, his neck and their lingering link buzzing with contented warmth between them. It took him a few moments, but eventually, he knew that Rose was murmuring the same three words between each press of her lips against his skin.
“I love you,” she said, easily and freely as if this wasn’t the most precious gift in all the world. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
The Doctor cried out weakly and clutched her even closer to him, unable to say the words but flooding their mental connection with his own emotions, hoping to convey to her what she meant to him. She gasped and sagged against him, seemingly completely overwhelmed, unable to do much more than kiss him soundly.
She broke the kiss after a few moments, framing his face with her hands and regarding him intently. “Are you…okay now? Is this better?”
The Doctor sighed contentedly, pressing soft, lingering kisses anywhere he could reach. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her…what was that all about? “It is…you’ve no idea.”
“Good,” Rose whispered, returning his gentle caresses and kisses.
She was the one to break the silence first, laughing softly and pressing her forehead against his. “So…”
He grinned. “So…”
They exchanged a few more soft kisses, smiling against each other’s mouths.
“’S hard to know what to say now,” Rose murmured.
“Quite right,” he mumbled back. Rather than discuss their lack of discussion further, the Doctor opted to grip Rose under her hips and pull her away from the door, smiling as she squeaked in surprise. He managed to maneuver them over to the bed, laying her down almost reverently across it.
Their link, still strong, flared with emotion once more between them. The Doctor leaned over and kissed Rose softly, helping her out of her ruined jumper and unclasping her bra. He, in turn, slipped out of his trainers and trousers, never breaking the kiss as he stretched out alongside her.
“That…wasn’t how I’d planned for our first time,” he admitted. “You, me, against the door of our hotel room…”
“I’d not exactly planned that either,” Rose told him bashfully. “Still…I thought it was brilliant, yeah?”
“Yeah,” the Doctor told her, grinning.
They continued kissing, growing bolder in their touches and caresses as the heat built between them once more. Rose cried out as his fingers found her, hot and ready for him.
“Why don’t you show me then?” she panted against his mouth. “How you wanted it to be?”
“Rose Tyler,” he practically growled. “I’d be delighted.”
Rose giggled as he swept in for another heart-stopping kiss.
******
Some time later, the Doctor stared up at the ceiling as Rose napped beside him. He felt at peace, at least for the time being. Rose’s loving, soft presence in his mind was keeping the vast, echoing emptiness at bay.
He’d never realized it could feel quite like this, though. He could always feel his people before the Time War, but that had been millions of impersonal, stuffy minds all parading around liked they owned the place. It almost paled in comparison to the warm, glowing, and personal connection to the woman in his arms.
On Gallifrey, the mental touch of a lover was something that was always spoken about in hushed, reverent tones. As young boys at the Academy, it had become something of a taboo subject. Time Lords were supposed to be above such nonsense. Especially when the mental presence was one of a human, a seemingly inferior species with no telepathic capabilities to speak of.
He knew that their connection wasn’t permanent. This type of bond would fade eventually, the lack of skin contact relegating it to nearly nothing. It would be difficult to manage on a day-to-day basis, though not impossible. Staying in bed like this, holding her to him and making love throughout the day would keep her presence steady in his mind for some time, he hoped until they at least made it back to London. After that…
The Doctor considered Rose’s opinion on a proper bonding, the Gallifreyian equivalent to marriage. It would be…incredible, he knew, to have her steady, constant presence in his mind. Even if they managed to return to the TARDIS, sharing that level of intimacy with Rose would be an impossibly good thing…if she wanted it.
They had to prepare, first. Rose would need to be tested for telepathy, to see if her mind could withstand the bond. Most humans were receptive when they were at their most unguarded. This generally only happened when they were asleep or in the throes of passion. However, many had natural capabilities that just needed to be nurtured or enhanced. He hoped this would be the case with Rose. Having spent two years inside a telepathic time ship, any ability she might have would be primed.
Then, of course, were the obvious concerns. Would she even want him like that? Bonding was…yes, like marriage, but on an entirely different level. She would never be alone in her own mind. Certainly there would be privacy, he couldn’t just read her every thought without permission. And, with some training, she’d be able to shut him out to a certain degree. It was also permanent. The only way to break the bond was death…and not regeneration, on his part.
To the Doctor, this was not a new concept. He’d shared his consciousness with millions of other Time Lords. How would Rose react? They’d have to talk, he realized with a sigh. Should he get her a ring? He was, in a manner of speaking, asking her to marry him. He knew she didn’t need one, probably wouldn’t even expect one. Still, it was a human symbol, and it would certainly give a clear indication to any potential suitors that Rose was…unavailable.
The Doctor clutched Rose tightly to him. She was, as always, everything he needed wrapped in a fragile pink-and-yellow package. The thought both terrified and elated him.
Rose snuffled lightly and curled even tighter against him. The Doctor sighed, running his fingers up and down her arm in a feather-light caress. For the moment, he was surprisingly content. He had Rose’s consciousness buzzing peacefully in his mind, he’d just made love to her (twice…he added mentally with a smug grin), and she was curled up blissfully naked in his arms. He was warm, comfortable, and even a tad drowsy, despite sleeping at least a few hours the past two nights.
He shifted a bit, and Rose curled up on her side in an almost unconscious response. It was nearing noon, he wasn’t sure if Pete would be expecting them to make an appearance at any point today. He wasn’t too concerned, they’d have twenty-four hours in the Jeep the next day for discussion and debriefing. For now, he spooned up against Rose, one arm placed protectively over her waist and one cradling her neck, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
******
Eventually Rose and the Doctor each awoke from their respective naps. They shared a long, leisurely soak in the jacuzzi tub, stealing kisses and caresses that led to yet another enthusiastic bout of lovemaking as soon as they returned to the bed. Rose was almost in complete disbelief that their relationship had taken such a turn, so quickly. She knew he needed her, that making love kept her presence in his mind where he used to be able to feel the TARDIS, but she couldn’t help feeling just a smidge of guilt that she was so giddily happy when they were now, officially and indefinitely, Trapped-With-A-Capital-T.
The Doctor also seemed content, and she wasn’t quite ready for the real world to intrude on their little idyll quite yet. She didn’t bring up the TARDIS or Torchwood, eager to bring the Doctor some measure of peace, even just for a day. So they ordered supper in their room, the Doctor only donning a dressing gown long enough to answer the door and shedding it immediately after, joining her again in the bed with their plates as they talked and laughed through an easy dinner.
The only communication from their team was a quick text from Pete, letting Rose know that they would be leaving promptly at six the next morning. The Doctor sighed, seeming resigned when she shared this news. She wasn’t looking forward to the long drive back to London, but at least they had a mission. The sooner they returned to Torchwood, the sooner they could start working on another way to get back.
She made love to the Doctor once more that evening, undulating on top of him and loving being able to watch his face, his expressions as she moved against him. He was wonderfully vocal, praising her in a mixture of English and Gallifreyan. Their link was pulsing with emotion and pleasure, and when the Doctor gripped her hips and let out a long, desperate moan, coming undone beneath her, Rose fell instantly over the edge with him.
******
Rose awoke the next morning, still groggy in the dark room, to the Doctor’s light, teasing caresses. She hummed sleepily, reaching back to thread her finger’s in the Doctor’s hair and he brushed kisses down her neck and shoulders.
“Rose,” he whispered against her skin. “Why do you need to sleep so much?”
“Mmmm,” she replied, gasping as his long, graceful fingers dipped between her legs. “Human…”
“Pity,” he replied teasingly, though Rose noticed the unsteady quality to his voice. He pushed against her, and Rose moaned as his hard length made contact with her soft flesh.
“Doctor,” she managed to choke out even through the wicked, wicked way his fingers were playing between her legs. Despite having made love four times the day before, she felt insatiable for him. She couldn’t get enough of how he made her feel, of how she could make him feel in return. The hand that wasn’t still entangled in his hair found his own free hand, and she gripped it hard as he lifted one of her legs and slipped easily inside her.
She could feel the link between them. This sort of lovemaking was becoming addictive, the intensity of their emotions increasing tenfold with the connection that burned white-hot between them. She loved him fiercely, had told him so enough times the night before, but the fact that he could truly feel that always caused a heady rush to burn through her.
He moved slowly inside of her, his hand still playing nimbly between her legs. She was panting against the pillow, barely able to hold on to any level of coherence as the warm, delicious tension built between them. The Doctor was whispering, breathless, in her ear, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was and how incredible she made him feel.
Rose finally broke, clutching their joined hands and gripping his hair as she came, sobbing his name and pressing kisses against the arm that cradled her against him. He followed immediately after, pressing against her abdomen to keep her in place as he emptied himself inside of her.
The Doctor leaned his forehead against her shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. Despite always boasting about his respiratory bypass system, he seemed to always pant heavily after they made love. She took it as a compliment.
Rose was just about to drift off once more when the Doctor brushed a kiss across her cheek. “We need to get up, Rose. They’ll be leaving in an hour or so.”
“Don’t wanna,” she turned over and burrowed defiantly into his chest.
The Doctor chucked warmly as he stroked her hair. “Well, I don’t blame you for that. But we don’t want to miss our lift back to London. We’ll have to take a zeppelin back down.”
Rose looked up at the Doctor, who was smiling softly down at her. “Hello,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her lips.
“Hello,” she smiled back before sighing. “All right, back to reality I suppose.”
“Ah, yes…we are on a mission.”
Rose sat up in bed, glancing down at the Doctor. She’d never seen him so disheveled. Completely nude, only covered by the thin sheet settled low on his hips, his hair completely on end, face slightly darkened with stubble and wearing a lovely, satisfied smile.
She could very easily get used to him looking like this.
“C’mon,” she told him, gripping his hand. “Don’t have much time, we’ll just have to shower together. What a tragedy.”
The Doctor’s smile widened as she tugged him to the bathroom. “Oh, yes…the sacrifices we make.”
Rose giggled as the Doctor gathered her in his arms and shut the door behind them.
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