Fic: Best Laid Plans
Title: Best Laid Plans
Part: 1/3
Rating: M, very, very M.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them and I didn’t consciously plan on doing this to them anyway.
Characters: Ten/Rose
Summary: Under the cut because I really don't want to spoil people.
Spoilers: New Earth and sort of Episode Four. If you’ve seen the confidential episode ‘New, New Doctor’ it won’t spoil anything as I pulled the story from the scene in there. Spoilers regarding Episode Four that were not in the confidential episode are not in this at all.
A/N: Firstly, I have to give a huge thank you to saganamidreams and chicklet73 who both spent far too many hours combing over this rather massive one off fic. Without them I doubt it’d be half as good and all their fiddling, honesty and encouragement is just brilliant. So thanks.
Damn that was a hard spoilers warning to explain. Under the cut I’ll specify the scene because I know that it is still technically a spoiler but at the same time it isn’t…
Summary: Yes, it’s a fic about the fact that the Doctor kisses another woman. Consider it a pre-emptive strike, RTD. It’s also a bit of a sequel to ‘ A Bloody Good Snog’ though that doesn’t need to have been read, it’s simply the way my brain played it out as being in the same universe.
Probably going to end up the smuttiest thing I’ve written yet, three parts. All your fault. Enjoy.
Part One
Rose was avoiding him.
She'd been avoiding him ever since they’d gotten back and he would rather not contemplate the cause. Because if he was right, that cause was exciting and thrilling and if she actually acknowledged it, things would change. He heard her sigh and bent his head slightly to look at her across the room. Strange that she was so blatantly avoiding him but still hadn’t left his side; had stood waiting for him in the console room; had followed him to the kitchen for a late supper and was now here, in the library, avoiding him.
It was possible she was angry at him for a more mundane reason than what he was thinking. Perhaps because he’d lost track of where she was - again - (not that she seemed to mind any of the other times). For not holding her hand when they ran for their lives (admittedly someone’s chubby butler had been running in between them, but still, the lack of contact had annoyed him). Or maybe for making her wear that ridiculous dress that he’d rather liked and quite possibly had tricked her into wearing well after the need for the façade had passed.
Another calculating glance, his glasses slipping further down his nose until he was looking over the top of them, and she just stared back. Certainly a strange way of avoiding him: following him around and staring at him. She should have been in bed, sleeping, recovering, getting ready for tomorrow, not sitting here, looking crankier with every passing minute.
Quietly he closed his book and set it on the armrest. He took his glasses off with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, putting on a rather good show of being tired. He was about to rise, bid her good night and go to bed when she spoke.
“Why didn’t you invite her to come along with us?” Level, inquisitive, but there was a hint of anger in her eyes.
He sank back into the chair, weighing up her words, realizing immediately who she meant and then seconds later the rest of the question registered, wiping away the slight smirk that had begun to form at the corners of his lips. A quick shake of his head that said he thought it was self-explanatory. “Because she would never have made a very good companion.” Not as good as you.
From the look on Rose’s face, that wasn't the right answer, so he raised a hand and started ticking things off, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. “High maintenance, silly shoes, no sense of adventure.” None of which were precisely true, but they were what she needed to hear. Chancing a look, he caught her expression: anger was rapidly giving way to confusion. “Bad breath?” he offered, willing her to laugh with him.
The intense glare she threw him was comprised more of hurt than anger, and he winced slightly.
“If there was so much wrong with her, then why’d,” a second’s hesitation as she tried to get the words out. “Why’d you kiss her?” There was genuine confusion there: she really had no idea.
The air had thickened at some point and he could feel it weighing down on him, his mouth going dry. A quick tug at his ear to stall, to search the truth for things he could say out loud. “She knew where they were being kept and she wasn’t going to tell us. She was going to sit there and just ramble on and on about the cult and how we’d soon see the light and I had to give her something stronger than that.”
“Oh, rubbish - she would have told us eventually,” Rose interjected.
“She was one of them,” he said, voice rising because she’d crossed her arms and looked intent on ignoring him. “She would have sat there and let them die because she thought it was right. It was the only way for me to save them.”
“By kissing her?” her voice exploded as she shifted forward, hands grasping the armrests until she was balanced on the edge, staring at him with wide eyes filled with frustration and shock at what she’d accidentally let out. He slid back further, scared, if he was honest with himself, not at her anger, but at what he thought it must have meant.
There was a barely detectable pause, something that gave away that this wasn’t just a shouting match, that there were undercurrents they weren’t acknowledging . Then he yelled back because it was the safest thing to do. “Yes. By kissing her. And for the record, she kissed me.” Every word punctuated so she understood, and with each new detail the picture became clearer. And she had been the one to kiss him, giving him that look that said what she was about to do and wrapping her fingers around his neck, mouth pressing against his and it had felt good.
“I could have pushed her off, but I needed to keep her trust.” True, in hindsight it had kept her trust. Rose didn’t need to know that at the time it has been an undeniable impulse. The temptation of flesh and lips and blond hair and blue eyes, spreading like some hot thick liquid and capturing him so he didn’t care that she wasn’t Rose “You know that that’s the only reason we got through that. That we had her on our side, telling us things we never would have guessed.”
“So what, now you just go around kissing people so you can take advantage of them?”
“Rose,” and he hated himself for being on the verge of asking forgiveness for something he didn’t regret doing. Voice turning to steel, he delivered the ultimatum, catching and holding her gaze. “There was no other way, we were running out of time and she kissed me.”
Those last three words shouldn’t have held any meaning: this was about morals and deceit and it didn’t matter who kissed whom just that…“But you kissed her back.” Her voice was low, wanting to say something else and hoping it would come out if she was quiet enough.
“And?” Despite himself, there was a grin tugging at his lips. She was jealous: this wasn’t about what had happened, it was about them. And if she’d just say it out loud then maybe they could get somewhere. “And?” he asked again, cheek slipping into his tone.
Her eyes widened further at his complete irreverence for the situation. She wanted to stand up, go over there and grasp him by the collar, make him see just what this was doing to her. But she couldn’t because the consequences of getting that close were…unpredictable, so she settled for one last scathing look before she stalked from the room.
***
Things were getting back to normal. Finally. It didn’t escape his notice that Rose couldn’t half hold a grudge; considering this time she was angrier at herself than at him, the Doctor made a mental note to never actually upset her on purpose. She hadn’t spoken to him the morning after, had refused to look impressed when he’d taken her to the next, exciting destination and hadn’t held his hand once.
But the time after that, she’d managed a few half smiles and the time after that had grasped his hand in hers as they half-ran, half-tumbled down the hill, back to the TARDIS. And now, it almost felt like it was supposed to: all sensation and glee and adventure. Lovely. Back to normal and a part of him hoped she never brought it up again.
It was a fantastic thing, jealousy. Time Lords were generally above it but humans, he knew, were particularly susceptible. When he’d kissed the other woman, he hadn’t planned on using the event to investigate Rose’s feelings for him, he hadn’t really planned anything. She’d just decided she wanted to kiss him and by the time he’d realized she was doing so, he hadn’t wanted to stop. The complications with Rose were an afterthought.
It was unexpected, when she got quite so cross. Especially when she’d tried to talk to him about it. All at once she’d refused to say what she was thinking but had been determined to show him how upset she was. She’d turned almost predatory, and it was a side of her he wasn’t used to. Still, it was exciting, all boiling down to proof that she really did feel it.
It being…he stuck his hands deep in his pockets and took a deep breath. Even thinking about it was a bit scary because every time he did his thoughts would dart off in the same direction. He wasn’t sure that was safe, wasn’t sure he wanted to go there if he was going to be there alone.
Beside him, Rose coughed, and instantly he was grinning, waggling his eyebrows at her, eradicating all trace of his previous thoughts. She smiled back and linked her arm through his, leaning slightly into him so he could gauge how tired she was.
It had been a long day, full of running and yelling and saving a world. But he wanted to see if he couldn’t show her something else exciting. Looking at her, he noted that her gait was steady and her eyes were alert. She had enough left in her for one last excursion.
Moving away, he grasped her hand and, with a gentle tug, led her down one of the side streets of the city.
***
She was loving this, really, truly loving it. At first she’d almost felt bad, sitting there, staring at all the strange and beautiful creatures…people: she’d felt like she was being rude. But they'd stared back, looking her up and down in appraisal. Blushing the first few times, she’d eventually realized the situation was one she should have been used to. It was just like any other bar, except instead of just men and women, there were dozens of different species, in who new how many genders, to choose from. While she wasn’t exactly interested in picking up anything green or furry, it was a fun way to pass the evening.
Plus, the Doctor had bought her a drink and was, she thought, standing a little too close for it to be blamed simply on companionship. Several times she’d seen a person in the room approach another, some retreated with their tails - in one case, quite literally - between their legs, others were welcomed, and they sat down to drink and talk and laugh.
No one approached her, though at one point she thought perhaps one man - a dark shade of chocolate with long white hair - had wanted to. She caught the look the Doctor threw him and felt a bolt of electricity race up her spine.
At that same moment she felt herself turning slightly away from him, looking away, searching the room because now it was her turn. Over at one of the tables was a group of men, two of them looked human - not that that meant anything - and one looked particularly dishy.
Black hair, slightly messed up, and a five o’clock shadow, tanned skin, broad shoulders - he was perfect. Waiting until he looked up, she smiled shyly, letting her eyes slip from his almost as soon as they’d met and then she turned back to the bar, ignoring the Doctor and ordering another drink. Looking over her shoulder, she caught the man watching her again and smiled, this time longer.
A hand touched her arm and she turned back to meet the Doctor’s eyes, innocence injected into her expression and a slight angling of her head making mischief seem almost out of the question. “What are you doing?” he asked in a low voice.
She swallowed, strangely elated that he’d been watching so closely. And then she answered: “I’m meeting people. Isn’t that why you brought me here?” Whatever he was going to say next was of no consequence, because she turned away, casting one last bright, unmistakable grin at the other man who was slipping out of his chair as soon as their eyes connected.
He sat down next to her with another grin, shaking her hand and introducing himself. Rose just smiled back and proceeded with the universally necessary small talk. Naturally, it was a bit one-sided since she couldn’t actually discuss what she did, but as the minutes ticked over she found herself enjoying his company, laughing at his jokes, leaning towards him.
Behind her, the Doctor simply sipped his drink, regretting having brought her here because this had not been the plan. He could feel something slipping around inside him, something dark and choking and it was making him want to take her back to the TARDIS and lock her away so that this never happened again. It was irrational and unusual and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was jealousy.
What he didn’t know was that that was the plan, that this was payback. He was so busy forcing his hands not to shake and his breath not to stop, that he didn’t see Rose slipping her eyes to the mirror in which she could watch him. Didn’t see her sly smiles.
And then it went too far. This other man, this stranger, had touched her, had laughed and then sobered and they’d locked eyes and he’d dared to reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He’d said she was beautiful and everyone knew exactly what that translated to: he wanted to kiss her and then take her home and make love to her.
The Doctor tapped her on the shoulder, downing the rest of his drink as he did it and shockingly finding his mouth still dry.
“Time to go,” he told her when she looked. “Big day tomorrow,” he justified.
Rose just nodded, not putting up a fight and that made something inside him wonder. “I’ll meet you outside in a tick, yeah?”
Gritting his teeth, he felt pain shooting through his jaw, a sharp headache spreading at the base of his skull. Say no and take her back to the TARDIS, make her forget this person had ever existed; that anyone else had ever existed.
Time Lords don’t get jealous.
“Okay.”
He moved off, slipping his hands into his pockets and moving silently across the floor. When he got to the door, he turned and looked back, watched it play out.
Rose had turned back to the other man, had taken one of his hands in hers and smiled sweetly. “I have to go,” she told him apologetically. “I had a really great time chatting to you. I’m leaving the city tomorrow, otherwise…” she let her voice trail off. “Thanks for giving me a nice way to remember my last night here.” And none of that was really a lie.
His face fell, and by the door, the Doctor felt his ego stir, imagining the things she might have been saying, perhaps telling him she was taken. After all, it was the easiest and simplest way to extricate yourself from just this sort of situation.
The other man looked at Rose, giving her a rueful smile. “It was nice,” he said. “Lovely to meet you.”
And she hesitated. It was plain that he had nothing else to say; she’d let go of his hands now and was sitting there fiddling, waiting. He coughed, none too subtly and she looked up encouragingly to give him yet another well-aimed smile; all he had to do was ask…she needed this, knew who was watching and needed him to see.
Another timid cough. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a good night kiss?”
She grinned and no one except her knew it was hiding a smirk. Feeling faintly bad for using him, she spoke, teasing but at the same time serious. “Why not? Just one good night kiss.” And leaning in she brushed her lips over his, pressing harder as she felt his hand on her thigh and the whole time with her eyes shut, wondering if he was still watching.
She pulled back as he did, looked him in the eye and watched him smile, watched him not regret anything as he stood up and left. She should have felt bad for using him but she couldn’t, not when she could feel so much else radiating out from across the room. Turning, she saw him watching and he didn’t even try to hide his outrage, just pursed his lips and watched her like a hawk as she slipped from her chair and wove her way through the crowd to stop in front of him.
Another glare, this one terrifying because what lay behind it was so much more than she’d bargained for. Hoping he’d be jealous, getting there to find him so far beyond that. She felt his fingers skim the small of her back, contradicting the anger in his eyes but possessive all the same and, with the slightest pressure, he guided her out.
I hope you enjoyed Part One. I suppose, in hindsight, it’s quite dark and angsty, but still, perhaps, enjoyable. I can’t wait to hear your reactions and as always welcome criticism. There are a further two installments both utterly lacking in plot and both rather hard smutty. I’ll post them either one or two days apart, depending. Thanks for reading!
PS. While I remember, this is a new link to a master list of my Ten fics just in case any of you are interested.
Part: 1/3
Rating: M, very, very M.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them and I didn’t consciously plan on doing this to them anyway.
Characters: Ten/Rose
Summary: Under the cut because I really don't want to spoil people.
Spoilers: New Earth and sort of Episode Four. If you’ve seen the confidential episode ‘New, New Doctor’ it won’t spoil anything as I pulled the story from the scene in there. Spoilers regarding Episode Four that were not in the confidential episode are not in this at all.
A/N: Firstly, I have to give a huge thank you to saganamidreams and chicklet73 who both spent far too many hours combing over this rather massive one off fic. Without them I doubt it’d be half as good and all their fiddling, honesty and encouragement is just brilliant. So thanks.
Damn that was a hard spoilers warning to explain. Under the cut I’ll specify the scene because I know that it is still technically a spoiler but at the same time it isn’t…
Summary: Yes, it’s a fic about the fact that the Doctor kisses another woman. Consider it a pre-emptive strike, RTD. It’s also a bit of a sequel to ‘ A Bloody Good Snog’ though that doesn’t need to have been read, it’s simply the way my brain played it out as being in the same universe.
Probably going to end up the smuttiest thing I’ve written yet, three parts. All your fault. Enjoy.
Part One
Rose was avoiding him.
She'd been avoiding him ever since they’d gotten back and he would rather not contemplate the cause. Because if he was right, that cause was exciting and thrilling and if she actually acknowledged it, things would change. He heard her sigh and bent his head slightly to look at her across the room. Strange that she was so blatantly avoiding him but still hadn’t left his side; had stood waiting for him in the console room; had followed him to the kitchen for a late supper and was now here, in the library, avoiding him.
It was possible she was angry at him for a more mundane reason than what he was thinking. Perhaps because he’d lost track of where she was - again - (not that she seemed to mind any of the other times). For not holding her hand when they ran for their lives (admittedly someone’s chubby butler had been running in between them, but still, the lack of contact had annoyed him). Or maybe for making her wear that ridiculous dress that he’d rather liked and quite possibly had tricked her into wearing well after the need for the façade had passed.
Another calculating glance, his glasses slipping further down his nose until he was looking over the top of them, and she just stared back. Certainly a strange way of avoiding him: following him around and staring at him. She should have been in bed, sleeping, recovering, getting ready for tomorrow, not sitting here, looking crankier with every passing minute.
Quietly he closed his book and set it on the armrest. He took his glasses off with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, putting on a rather good show of being tired. He was about to rise, bid her good night and go to bed when she spoke.
“Why didn’t you invite her to come along with us?” Level, inquisitive, but there was a hint of anger in her eyes.
He sank back into the chair, weighing up her words, realizing immediately who she meant and then seconds later the rest of the question registered, wiping away the slight smirk that had begun to form at the corners of his lips. A quick shake of his head that said he thought it was self-explanatory. “Because she would never have made a very good companion.” Not as good as you.
From the look on Rose’s face, that wasn't the right answer, so he raised a hand and started ticking things off, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. “High maintenance, silly shoes, no sense of adventure.” None of which were precisely true, but they were what she needed to hear. Chancing a look, he caught her expression: anger was rapidly giving way to confusion. “Bad breath?” he offered, willing her to laugh with him.
The intense glare she threw him was comprised more of hurt than anger, and he winced slightly.
“If there was so much wrong with her, then why’d,” a second’s hesitation as she tried to get the words out. “Why’d you kiss her?” There was genuine confusion there: she really had no idea.
The air had thickened at some point and he could feel it weighing down on him, his mouth going dry. A quick tug at his ear to stall, to search the truth for things he could say out loud. “She knew where they were being kept and she wasn’t going to tell us. She was going to sit there and just ramble on and on about the cult and how we’d soon see the light and I had to give her something stronger than that.”
“Oh, rubbish - she would have told us eventually,” Rose interjected.
“She was one of them,” he said, voice rising because she’d crossed her arms and looked intent on ignoring him. “She would have sat there and let them die because she thought it was right. It was the only way for me to save them.”
“By kissing her?” her voice exploded as she shifted forward, hands grasping the armrests until she was balanced on the edge, staring at him with wide eyes filled with frustration and shock at what she’d accidentally let out. He slid back further, scared, if he was honest with himself, not at her anger, but at what he thought it must have meant.
There was a barely detectable pause, something that gave away that this wasn’t just a shouting match, that there were undercurrents they weren’t acknowledging . Then he yelled back because it was the safest thing to do. “Yes. By kissing her. And for the record, she kissed me.” Every word punctuated so she understood, and with each new detail the picture became clearer. And she had been the one to kiss him, giving him that look that said what she was about to do and wrapping her fingers around his neck, mouth pressing against his and it had felt good.
“I could have pushed her off, but I needed to keep her trust.” True, in hindsight it had kept her trust. Rose didn’t need to know that at the time it has been an undeniable impulse. The temptation of flesh and lips and blond hair and blue eyes, spreading like some hot thick liquid and capturing him so he didn’t care that she wasn’t Rose “You know that that’s the only reason we got through that. That we had her on our side, telling us things we never would have guessed.”
“So what, now you just go around kissing people so you can take advantage of them?”
“Rose,” and he hated himself for being on the verge of asking forgiveness for something he didn’t regret doing. Voice turning to steel, he delivered the ultimatum, catching and holding her gaze. “There was no other way, we were running out of time and she kissed me.”
Those last three words shouldn’t have held any meaning: this was about morals and deceit and it didn’t matter who kissed whom just that…“But you kissed her back.” Her voice was low, wanting to say something else and hoping it would come out if she was quiet enough.
“And?” Despite himself, there was a grin tugging at his lips. She was jealous: this wasn’t about what had happened, it was about them. And if she’d just say it out loud then maybe they could get somewhere. “And?” he asked again, cheek slipping into his tone.
Her eyes widened further at his complete irreverence for the situation. She wanted to stand up, go over there and grasp him by the collar, make him see just what this was doing to her. But she couldn’t because the consequences of getting that close were…unpredictable, so she settled for one last scathing look before she stalked from the room.
***
Things were getting back to normal. Finally. It didn’t escape his notice that Rose couldn’t half hold a grudge; considering this time she was angrier at herself than at him, the Doctor made a mental note to never actually upset her on purpose. She hadn’t spoken to him the morning after, had refused to look impressed when he’d taken her to the next, exciting destination and hadn’t held his hand once.
But the time after that, she’d managed a few half smiles and the time after that had grasped his hand in hers as they half-ran, half-tumbled down the hill, back to the TARDIS. And now, it almost felt like it was supposed to: all sensation and glee and adventure. Lovely. Back to normal and a part of him hoped she never brought it up again.
It was a fantastic thing, jealousy. Time Lords were generally above it but humans, he knew, were particularly susceptible. When he’d kissed the other woman, he hadn’t planned on using the event to investigate Rose’s feelings for him, he hadn’t really planned anything. She’d just decided she wanted to kiss him and by the time he’d realized she was doing so, he hadn’t wanted to stop. The complications with Rose were an afterthought.
It was unexpected, when she got quite so cross. Especially when she’d tried to talk to him about it. All at once she’d refused to say what she was thinking but had been determined to show him how upset she was. She’d turned almost predatory, and it was a side of her he wasn’t used to. Still, it was exciting, all boiling down to proof that she really did feel it.
It being…he stuck his hands deep in his pockets and took a deep breath. Even thinking about it was a bit scary because every time he did his thoughts would dart off in the same direction. He wasn’t sure that was safe, wasn’t sure he wanted to go there if he was going to be there alone.
Beside him, Rose coughed, and instantly he was grinning, waggling his eyebrows at her, eradicating all trace of his previous thoughts. She smiled back and linked her arm through his, leaning slightly into him so he could gauge how tired she was.
It had been a long day, full of running and yelling and saving a world. But he wanted to see if he couldn’t show her something else exciting. Looking at her, he noted that her gait was steady and her eyes were alert. She had enough left in her for one last excursion.
Moving away, he grasped her hand and, with a gentle tug, led her down one of the side streets of the city.
***
She was loving this, really, truly loving it. At first she’d almost felt bad, sitting there, staring at all the strange and beautiful creatures…people: she’d felt like she was being rude. But they'd stared back, looking her up and down in appraisal. Blushing the first few times, she’d eventually realized the situation was one she should have been used to. It was just like any other bar, except instead of just men and women, there were dozens of different species, in who new how many genders, to choose from. While she wasn’t exactly interested in picking up anything green or furry, it was a fun way to pass the evening.
Plus, the Doctor had bought her a drink and was, she thought, standing a little too close for it to be blamed simply on companionship. Several times she’d seen a person in the room approach another, some retreated with their tails - in one case, quite literally - between their legs, others were welcomed, and they sat down to drink and talk and laugh.
No one approached her, though at one point she thought perhaps one man - a dark shade of chocolate with long white hair - had wanted to. She caught the look the Doctor threw him and felt a bolt of electricity race up her spine.
At that same moment she felt herself turning slightly away from him, looking away, searching the room because now it was her turn. Over at one of the tables was a group of men, two of them looked human - not that that meant anything - and one looked particularly dishy.
Black hair, slightly messed up, and a five o’clock shadow, tanned skin, broad shoulders - he was perfect. Waiting until he looked up, she smiled shyly, letting her eyes slip from his almost as soon as they’d met and then she turned back to the bar, ignoring the Doctor and ordering another drink. Looking over her shoulder, she caught the man watching her again and smiled, this time longer.
A hand touched her arm and she turned back to meet the Doctor’s eyes, innocence injected into her expression and a slight angling of her head making mischief seem almost out of the question. “What are you doing?” he asked in a low voice.
She swallowed, strangely elated that he’d been watching so closely. And then she answered: “I’m meeting people. Isn’t that why you brought me here?” Whatever he was going to say next was of no consequence, because she turned away, casting one last bright, unmistakable grin at the other man who was slipping out of his chair as soon as their eyes connected.
He sat down next to her with another grin, shaking her hand and introducing himself. Rose just smiled back and proceeded with the universally necessary small talk. Naturally, it was a bit one-sided since she couldn’t actually discuss what she did, but as the minutes ticked over she found herself enjoying his company, laughing at his jokes, leaning towards him.
Behind her, the Doctor simply sipped his drink, regretting having brought her here because this had not been the plan. He could feel something slipping around inside him, something dark and choking and it was making him want to take her back to the TARDIS and lock her away so that this never happened again. It was irrational and unusual and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was jealousy.
What he didn’t know was that that was the plan, that this was payback. He was so busy forcing his hands not to shake and his breath not to stop, that he didn’t see Rose slipping her eyes to the mirror in which she could watch him. Didn’t see her sly smiles.
And then it went too far. This other man, this stranger, had touched her, had laughed and then sobered and they’d locked eyes and he’d dared to reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He’d said she was beautiful and everyone knew exactly what that translated to: he wanted to kiss her and then take her home and make love to her.
The Doctor tapped her on the shoulder, downing the rest of his drink as he did it and shockingly finding his mouth still dry.
“Time to go,” he told her when she looked. “Big day tomorrow,” he justified.
Rose just nodded, not putting up a fight and that made something inside him wonder. “I’ll meet you outside in a tick, yeah?”
Gritting his teeth, he felt pain shooting through his jaw, a sharp headache spreading at the base of his skull. Say no and take her back to the TARDIS, make her forget this person had ever existed; that anyone else had ever existed.
Time Lords don’t get jealous.
“Okay.”
He moved off, slipping his hands into his pockets and moving silently across the floor. When he got to the door, he turned and looked back, watched it play out.
Rose had turned back to the other man, had taken one of his hands in hers and smiled sweetly. “I have to go,” she told him apologetically. “I had a really great time chatting to you. I’m leaving the city tomorrow, otherwise…” she let her voice trail off. “Thanks for giving me a nice way to remember my last night here.” And none of that was really a lie.
His face fell, and by the door, the Doctor felt his ego stir, imagining the things she might have been saying, perhaps telling him she was taken. After all, it was the easiest and simplest way to extricate yourself from just this sort of situation.
The other man looked at Rose, giving her a rueful smile. “It was nice,” he said. “Lovely to meet you.”
And she hesitated. It was plain that he had nothing else to say; she’d let go of his hands now and was sitting there fiddling, waiting. He coughed, none too subtly and she looked up encouragingly to give him yet another well-aimed smile; all he had to do was ask…she needed this, knew who was watching and needed him to see.
Another timid cough. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a good night kiss?”
She grinned and no one except her knew it was hiding a smirk. Feeling faintly bad for using him, she spoke, teasing but at the same time serious. “Why not? Just one good night kiss.” And leaning in she brushed her lips over his, pressing harder as she felt his hand on her thigh and the whole time with her eyes shut, wondering if he was still watching.
She pulled back as he did, looked him in the eye and watched him smile, watched him not regret anything as he stood up and left. She should have felt bad for using him but she couldn’t, not when she could feel so much else radiating out from across the room. Turning, she saw him watching and he didn’t even try to hide his outrage, just pursed his lips and watched her like a hawk as she slipped from her chair and wove her way through the crowd to stop in front of him.
Another glare, this one terrifying because what lay behind it was so much more than she’d bargained for. Hoping he’d be jealous, getting there to find him so far beyond that. She felt his fingers skim the small of her back, contradicting the anger in his eyes but possessive all the same and, with the slightest pressure, he guided her out.
I hope you enjoyed Part One. I suppose, in hindsight, it’s quite dark and angsty, but still, perhaps, enjoyable. I can’t wait to hear your reactions and as always welcome criticism. There are a further two installments both utterly lacking in plot and both rather hard smutty. I’ll post them either one or two days apart, depending. Thanks for reading!
PS. While I remember, this is a new link to a master list of my Ten fics just in case any of you are interested.