Fireworks
Fireworks, TenII/Rose, PG
The water was so hot it burned, but oh, it all hurt anyway., 693
08.
The long, slow hiss of breath through her clenched teeth was briefly drowned out by the creaking of the bathroom door, and she spared him a glance as she painfully lowered herself, knuckles white on the edges of the tub, through mountains of bubbles.
The water was so hot it burned, but oh, it all hurt anyway.
She saw he was eyeing, from the doorway, the bruise blooming across her ribcage, and sank the rest of the way down with an almost indecent moan, until she was just a head with that soft fall of cotton candy hair piled on top. "Ohhh, there it is. Much better."
He crossed to her and held out the steaming cup of tea that was warming his hands, and she took it, letting her eyes fall shut. "You're lovely."
He sat opposite her, on the rim of the tub, and in the silence, she could hear the bubbles popping, thousands of tiny deaths, a quiet, roaring shhhhhhhhhhh. She pressed her lips against the cup, taking a slow sip, and looked between her eyelashes to contemplate the lipstick stain she'd left behind.
He was staring.
"Just say it," she said.
"Say what?" he said.
"I shouldn't be working in the field, I'm going to be killed, and wouldn't I prefer a nice desk job?" The cup of tea came to rest on the porcelain with a glassy clink, and with her reach, the swells of her breasts were visible above the water. He wondered if that was intentional (it was) and almost smiled.
Rose pulled one arm across her chest, pressing it to her with the opposite hand to stretch her shoulder. The joint popped, and she winced.
"I'm not going to say that, Rose," he said, and she looked at him, eyebrows raised, the hot water turning her cheeks pink. The steam, or sweat, was curling the baby fine hairs at her temples.
"No?"
"No," and he dipped his fingers in the lavender scented water, reaching out to smooth the wet tips over the gash above her eyebrow. The dried blood turned pink and washed away.
"Oh."
---
There was that time, oh, so long ago, in another universe, when he took her to Erosh, that little emerald planet, after the hundred year drought, for the lifting of the fireworks ban. And she thought, when he parked on a hill, that they'd watch from above, but instead they ran, hand in hand, down into the streets, in the fine rain of ash and embers.
There was a particular glow in his eyes and she watched him as he stared, unblinking, into the burning sky until she shouted, over the noise, "How many times have you been here? To this day?"
He looked at her and shrugged, but she saw the flash of dimples before he spun away to examine a bottle rocket as the fuse burned down to nothing. It went off with a shrieking whistle and exploded just above the rooftops, blue and green and gold.
And Rose scanned the crowd, everyone smiling, running, laughing, and looked for a man with a funny hat, or a man with big ears, a man whose eyes had a certain wickedness, who didn't quite fit, and her Doctor stood at her shoulder, slipped his hand into hers, whispered, "Come on, Rose, let's go."
She loved him, loved all of him, loved any him. And she could feel his eyes on her, from every direction.
---
Later, they sat by the fire in their small, cozy flat, while her tea grew cold, forgotten on the bathroom tile, and he looked at her with dark, laughing eyes and said, "How long before those ribs heal, Tyler?" walking his fingers towards the loose knot at the front of her robe. She laughed, and then groaned, pressing a palm to her aching side.
"Shut up."
She leaned into him then, in the warmth, in the dark, and when she closed her eyes the fire lit up the backs of her eyelids. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen in love. It wasn't even the first time she'd fallen in love with him. But some days, everything feels new.
The water was so hot it burned, but oh, it all hurt anyway., 693
08.
The long, slow hiss of breath through her clenched teeth was briefly drowned out by the creaking of the bathroom door, and she spared him a glance as she painfully lowered herself, knuckles white on the edges of the tub, through mountains of bubbles.
The water was so hot it burned, but oh, it all hurt anyway.
She saw he was eyeing, from the doorway, the bruise blooming across her ribcage, and sank the rest of the way down with an almost indecent moan, until she was just a head with that soft fall of cotton candy hair piled on top. "Ohhh, there it is. Much better."
He crossed to her and held out the steaming cup of tea that was warming his hands, and she took it, letting her eyes fall shut. "You're lovely."
He sat opposite her, on the rim of the tub, and in the silence, she could hear the bubbles popping, thousands of tiny deaths, a quiet, roaring shhhhhhhhhhh. She pressed her lips against the cup, taking a slow sip, and looked between her eyelashes to contemplate the lipstick stain she'd left behind.
He was staring.
"Just say it," she said.
"Say what?" he said.
"I shouldn't be working in the field, I'm going to be killed, and wouldn't I prefer a nice desk job?" The cup of tea came to rest on the porcelain with a glassy clink, and with her reach, the swells of her breasts were visible above the water. He wondered if that was intentional (it was) and almost smiled.
Rose pulled one arm across her chest, pressing it to her with the opposite hand to stretch her shoulder. The joint popped, and she winced.
"I'm not going to say that, Rose," he said, and she looked at him, eyebrows raised, the hot water turning her cheeks pink. The steam, or sweat, was curling the baby fine hairs at her temples.
"No?"
"No," and he dipped his fingers in the lavender scented water, reaching out to smooth the wet tips over the gash above her eyebrow. The dried blood turned pink and washed away.
"Oh."
---
There was that time, oh, so long ago, in another universe, when he took her to Erosh, that little emerald planet, after the hundred year drought, for the lifting of the fireworks ban. And she thought, when he parked on a hill, that they'd watch from above, but instead they ran, hand in hand, down into the streets, in the fine rain of ash and embers.
There was a particular glow in his eyes and she watched him as he stared, unblinking, into the burning sky until she shouted, over the noise, "How many times have you been here? To this day?"
He looked at her and shrugged, but she saw the flash of dimples before he spun away to examine a bottle rocket as the fuse burned down to nothing. It went off with a shrieking whistle and exploded just above the rooftops, blue and green and gold.
And Rose scanned the crowd, everyone smiling, running, laughing, and looked for a man with a funny hat, or a man with big ears, a man whose eyes had a certain wickedness, who didn't quite fit, and her Doctor stood at her shoulder, slipped his hand into hers, whispered, "Come on, Rose, let's go."
She loved him, loved all of him, loved any him. And she could feel his eyes on her, from every direction.
---
Later, they sat by the fire in their small, cozy flat, while her tea grew cold, forgotten on the bathroom tile, and he looked at her with dark, laughing eyes and said, "How long before those ribs heal, Tyler?" walking his fingers towards the loose knot at the front of her robe. She laughed, and then groaned, pressing a palm to her aching side.
"Shut up."
She leaned into him then, in the warmth, in the dark, and when she closed her eyes the fire lit up the backs of her eyelids. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen in love. It wasn't even the first time she'd fallen in love with him. But some days, everything feels new.