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rabid1stDISHEVELED
By Rabid1st
Ten/Rose
Rating: NC-17 (Mature…Adult)
Beta Babes: Lil, Keswindhover & Melissa
Warning: Alien Sex (though 100% Tentacle-Free)
Summary: Rose and the Doctor made love Time Lord Style and it was all a bit different. Now what?
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. If I did…the show would be censored by…everyone but you smutty few. I humbly thank Russell T. Davies for creating the sweetest, most-loving, most-genuinely iconic couple in the history of the world for me to play with.
PART ONE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/81014.html#cutid1
PART TWO
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/81708.html#cutid1
PART THREE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/82748.html#cutid1
PART FOUR
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/82969.html#cutid1
PART FIVE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/83272.html
PART SIX
A soft touch on the cheek roused Rose from dreamless slumber. She opened her eyes to a pale blindfold and jerked reflexively. The sharp movement broke her from the Doctor’s sheltering embrace and set off a flurry of white flower petals. They avalanched down her body. A falling one kissed her lips as she lifted her head. Others caressed her bare breasts. Shifting her arm, she created a wake of fluttering softness. She glanced at the Doctor as she combed handfuls of petals from her hair. He was fast asleep, buried in floral abundance. His dark rooster-comb of hair stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the monochromatic scene, pale skin dressed in pale petals. Rose turned a critical eye on his latest dream-induced masterpiece.
The vast garden of their room had shrunk to a close bower of constantly shifting vines and endlessly budding flowers. Greenery diffused the light. Rose looked on in amused fascination as seasons cycled by overhead. The rapidly changing arbor reminded her of time-lapse photography. Sprays of moon-white blossoms danced just beyond her reach, budding, blooming and then casting off their petals. The bed was frosted in white petals. Their oddly comforting, if unearthly, scent perfumed the air. Leaves turned to red-brown before blowing away. The bare branches were green again in minutes.
Delighted, Rose beamed at the Doctor. But, of course, he didn’t stir. The TARDIS only performed this kind of miracle when it could access his dreaming subconscious. Pondering his mental state, Rose settled once again into the crook of his arm. Cheek pillowed on his chest, she enjoyed the show. Purple and yellow birds flitted through the greenery, trilling like cherubim. Their brightly colored plumage flashed between the pale flowers and dark leaves. Rose noticed the shape of the bed had changed. It curved to form a nest of downy soft blankets.
This, Rose thought, was what it must be like in Heaven, safe and comforting and endlessly interesting. Physically and emotionally sated, you could lie in your lover’s arms while all around you angels worked wonders in their sleep. She needed the loo and a shower but she didn’t want to stir from this spot. The Doctor held her loosely as he slept and smiled just a little from time to time. He was a solid reassurance beside her, warm and soothing. They were skin-to-skin under the drift of snowy petals and Rose felt marvelous. Every breath she drew tasted as sweet as spring water on a hot day. Her body hummed with energy and yet could not be more relaxed.
Unable to check her impulse, she gently brushed the accumulated petals from his face. She exposed the bow of his lips. Mauve and dangerous she thought and smiled. With exaggerated care, she traced one arched brow, careful as an archeologist dusting soil from treasure. Her fingers trailed across his cheek, outlining its curves and angles. He murmured contentedly, turning to snuggle into her as he opened his eyes. For a long moment, they gazed at one another with perfect understanding and then he grinned. His sweet expression eclipsed the beauty of their new surroundings. It sat Rose’s heart hammering.
Feeling oddly shaky inside and a bit shy, she ducked her chin and nervously chewed on her thumbnail as she grinned back at him. She’d had never been much of a romantic, generally scoffing at her mother’s soap operas and Shareen’s bodice-ripper novels. But it was hard to scoff when your heart banged into your ribcage every time someone smiled. The Doctor took her breath away, literally. She was certain if she ever had to tell him how she felt she wouldn’t be able to speak for lack of air. She would probably stutter and cry. What she felt seemed to go far beyond words anyway. She loved her mother and father and Mickey. How could the same word be applied to this burning need for her Doctor? Whenever she thought of telling him she loved him, tears blurred her vision and she had to swallow against a lump in her throat.
Forcing herself to look away from the relentless pull of his gaze, Rose threw a nonchalant glance toward the arbor. “Someone’s happy, yeah?” she said, bobbing her chin at the beautiful canopy. It had stopped cycling and now held on late spring.
The Doctor misunderstood. Stretching his arm over his head, he gently stroked the wall above the bed as he said, “She is rather. You know, I’ve never heard of a TARDIS responding this way to intercourse.” He pursed his lips slightly as he followed an errant line of thought. “I wonder…if the convergence…? Not that there’s much written about convergence. We should write a book, for future generations…or past ones…the mechanics and psychology of…”
Rose snorted. “Not the TARDIS,” she groaned. Tilting her head, she let her fingers drift down his chest. “I meant you.”
“Oh, me.” He grinned broadly, amused by his own absurdity, and returned his attention to Rose. “Yes, I am, rather. Somewhat giddy.” Lowering his hand to cup her cheek, he murmured, “Did you doubt it?”
She was surprised to discover, upon consideration, she hadn’t doubted it at all. Shaking her head she smiled sweetly at him as she let her fingers play over his soft skin. He was eminently touchable, so different from his ninth self. She circled his navel three times before her hand slid slowly along his waist and then around to his back. Rolling over, she spilled onto his chest, showering him with more petals as her fingertips skated up his spine. His nose twitched as her hair tickled it. Her cheek brushed his when she wriggled into a more comfortable position.
“And you, Rose Tyler,” he declared, using her full name as Gallifreyan convention demanded when addressing important issues, “are you happy?”
Pushing into a cobra pose, Rose kissed the tip of his nose and then said, “Not bad.” Her gaze dipped to the point where their flesh met. “No prickly skin.”
“Not aroused.”
“Really?”
He shrugged off her doubt. “I have a longer refractory period than a human male. And,” he sniffed, loftily, “it may surprise you to know…exposure to your naked flesh, while pleasant, isn’t particularly stimulating.”
The revelation inspired a slight pout. Rose tugged at her earlobe. Not hurt or displeased but calculating. It was a look the Doctor knew well. Her narrow-eyed gaze glittered. Her teeth worried at her lower lip. The set of her jaw told him quite clearly it wouldn’t take her long to discover what did arouse him. She had an arsenal at her disposal, after all. Even this tenacity stirred him. He simply adored watching her figure things out.
“My mum was right about you,” she said, at last.
“Which time?” the Doctor muttered, drawing his fingers through her hair. As he combed errant strands aside others fell across her face to replace them. “Not when she called me a heartless buffoon, I hope. I have an abundance of hearts, Rose. True, not as many as an earthworm or a Zaliglian Soldier but…”
Chuckling, Rose turned her cheek into his palm. “No. When she said you were like the Fairy King, casting your spell on me.”
“Oberon?” The Doctor sneered. “Preposterous…slanderous. She said I snatched children away in the night and left women weeping and gnashing their teeth…”
“By the well,” Rose finished, nodding.
“Trust your mother to confuse Coleridge with the Bible and then just for good measure to toss in a healthy dash of Peter Pan.”
“You are a bit like Peter,” Rose said. “Straight on ‘til morning. Third star on the right.”
“Second star,” the Doctor corrected. “Third star’s Mercury. You’ll end up in another novel entirely. And I’m nothing like Pan. Or Oberon, come to that,” He managed to look perplexed and a little incensed as he went on, “One is a perpetual child. The other a brooder. Do I brood? No, I do not.”
“Not so much since the regeneration. But you did before.”
Mouth pulling tight, he dipped his head to the side, granting her point. “One thing you can't say about me, I’ve never lured anyone away in the night. Well, maybe once. But not a child. Never a child.” He squirmed guiltily as he admitted to, “A stewardess from Brisbane. And once, a very drunk Irishman but he didn’t end up in the TARDIS. Most people just stumble in when I’m not looking and wander off when they’ve had their fill of me.” He squeezed her and brooding slightly, sighed, “You’ll do that one day, I suppose.”
“What? Wander off?” She looked at him in surprise. “Never.”
He didn’t look at her but a slow smile warmed his cocoa-colored eyes. Then the smile melted away into pensive consideration. Brows lifting gracefully, he turned toward her and asked, “What would I do with a stolen child, anyway? Assuming I had the inclination? Strikes me as a load of bother, stealing children." His upper lip pulled back in distaste. "They’d always be underfoot and everything would get sticky. Children tend to be sticky, Rose,” he confided as if he were sharing some nugget of alien wisdom gleaned through years of space travel. “Besides the prepubescent can’t travel in time. It plays havoc with their development.”
“Then it’s settled. We definitely won’t have children,” Rose said, airily.
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when she realized what she’d just implied. In the process of turning her head to survey the canopy again, she stilled and grimaced. Her teeth worried at her lower lip as a hot blush inundated her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor shoot her the most peculiar stare and cringed inwardly. She tensed for the rejection she was certain was coming. But the Doctor seemed speechless. Both of his brows arched and his mouth flapped as if he meant to question her but couldn’t think of where to begin.
Rose spoke before he did. “Waking up like this,” she continued, with enough blithe perkiness to hide any telltale tremor in her voice, “I can just about see Mum’s point though. Sort of makes me feel like a fairy princess.”
“You’d be Titania,” the Doctor corrected, very close to her ear. Rose shivered as another wave of prickling of heat swept over her.
Before she could think how to respond to him, he startled her with a sudden bray of laughter. His whole body shook with amusement. “And that would make Mr. Mickey…Bottom,” he announced, happily, “Ha. He is rather. A bottom.” Offended on her friend’s behalf, Rose forgot her momentary befuddlement and lightly poked the Doctor’s shoulder in a futile effort to make him stop guffawing. After a few more sniggers, he forced his face into a semblance of sobriety and managed a tense little, “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not. I’m sadly unrepentant.”
“Mickey is not an ass. He’s the sweetest person I know,” she chided, loyally.
“What about me?”
“You’re not sweet at all.”
“See how you’ve changed your tune? You, Rose Tyler, are inconstant. I was sweet enough for you last night.”
“I’ve always thought there was something Puckish about you,” she said, avoiding all of the deeper emotional questions. She fluttered her hand as she added, “You know with the ‘I am the merry wanderer’ stuff?”
“Did we see A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” he asked, surprised by her ready references to the play.
Rose shook her head. “The Khalraxi revolted remember? We read it after.”
“I made you mulled cider,” he recalled.
“Because my fingers got frosty,” she added, smiling.
“Holding high the banner of revolution,” he finished. “How many times must I tell you to wear gloves when you’re picked as flag bearer?” He caught her fingers and carried them to his lips for a series of quick kisses “Strange how people revolt whenever we stop by to take in a play or pick up a ham sandwich. You’d think we sowed discord. And nothing could be further from the truth. Soul of peace and enlightenment, that’s me.”
“Though it would be very Puckish of you to sow discord,” Rose mused.
“No, I shan’t be Puck. I feel Puck is a little too subservient for my tastes. I never was one to take orders. I fly. I flit. All that rubbish.”
“But you do, rather,” Rose grinned. “Flit and fly. Like when you’ve successfully calibrated the time rotor, yeah?”
“Yes, but Oberon,” he mewed plaintively, bouncing a little like a child wheedling a treat from a reluctant nursemaid, “Much more…majestic. And a very snappy dresser. Can’t you see me striding about in the Cloak of Shadows? And, now I think on it, I have indeed heard mermaids singing to calm the seas in dulcet tones. And while the stars didn’t precisely shoot from their spheres, there may have been a meteor or two. Of course, I was in a very fine restaurant at the time not perched on a promontory. Still, we could stretch the point.”
“I’d like to see a mermaid.” Rose said.
“Ikalotilus 3,” the Doctor told her. “But not at this time of year. We’ll aim for the spawning season and,” he swallowed an “of course” and went on hastily, “you’ll have to be tied to something solid. Masts are ideal but a good stout oaken beam will do in a pinch.”
“I see. So it’s one of those restaurants,” Rose said, chuckling seductively.
Appreciating her innuendo, the Doctor snickered and swiveled his hips, making her jiggle and slide. She clutched at his shoulders, triggering his arousal response as she laughed against his skin. The warm enticement of her joy acted on him the way her naked proximity would on a human male. It inspired him to pounce. Gripping her arms just above the elbows, he rolled to pin her. She squirmed. He straddled her hips and kissed her soundly.
They tussled, playfully pushing one another. Rose found his most ticklish spot and dug her fingers in. He tossed his head back, laughing so hard he tipped over. She wriggled free and tossed a handful of petals at him like a snowball. He reciprocated and for a few giddy minutes the air whirled with white petals.
Sweeping under her guard, the Doctor pulled Rose into his body, hugging her tight until she surrendered. She sprawled across his lap, her bum settling between his thighs, and they spent an exquisitely peaceful few minutes in the middle of the bed murmuring nonsense to one another before the Doctor drew in a sharp breath and broke away from the embrace.
“No, honestly,” he said, slithering around her and down to the foot of the bed. “I can’t have you falling hopelessly in love with one of the sea-folk, casting yourself into the surf. Think of the inconvenience. I’d have to learn to scuba dive again," he grimaced at the thought, "it’s been…literally… centuries…and then there’s the bartering.”
“I could see how it would cause you a lot of trouble,” Rose said, crawling after him.
“Merfolk drive notoriously hard bargains. I might have to fight a duel or go on a hopeless quest or some such to save you,” he said. Glancing back at her, he added, “Time we were up. Get dressed. Run to the loo and then meet me in the console room. I have something to show you.”
“Do you always say that on the morning after?” Rose asked, giggling. “’Get up, get dressed and meet me in the console room…I have something to show you,’” she quoted. “You said exactly the same thing the last time.”
“Did I?” The Doctor’s brow furrowed for a second and then he tilted his head and beamed. “I did. Yes.” He waved a carefree hand. “But that thing is not this thing. This is a totally different thing.”
“So, what was it last time?”
“The burning moons of Androgolfus,” the Doctor said, as he stooped to pluck his shirt from the floor. “Considered to be one of the fifteen most romantically beautiful sights in this or any other galaxy.” He recovered his trousers, shaking them free of leaves. “More people get engaged under the light of those moons than on all the gondolas in Venice,” he went on as he dressed. “That rift in time was only a short hop away from them. But I’m afraid I got rather distracted. Cybermen. Mickey. A tear in the fabric of existence.”
“You had a busy day.”
“I did. But one day we’ll go back there. I know you’ll adore it. Literally, scores of moons and smaller satellites orbit the three planets in the system. And all of them, the moons, burn with a perpetual fire. Nothing can extinguish them but time. Can you imagine how lovely it is, Rose, fire in the cold heart of space?”
Rose watched him search for his left shoe and finally gestured toward it. “By the desk,” she said. “So, these moons burn," she tugged at her earlobe, "but how can there be fire in space?”
“Some fires don’t need oxygen. The moons themselves fuel the fire. The Androgolfus System was once home to the galaxy’s most productive Dilithium crystal mines and then one day....”
“Dilithium? Like on Star Trek?”
“Exactly like. Dilithium crystals are highly unstable but for centuries they were the only natural resource powerful enough to fuel the big dreadnaughts and luxury liners of the Great and Beneficent Federation of United Planets. The Federation ruled most of the Horsehead Nebula for about 300 years, give or take a decade. Until one day there was this huge uprising of the labor force and…”
Rose wasn’t interested in uprisings. “I thought that was just…for television. The Federation and all. Go on, tell me, are there Vulcans?”
“I thought you knew,” the Doctor said, offhandedly. “Or suspected, at least. Since you’ve called me Mr. Spock and you know all about the,” he flashed the hand signal for ‘live long and prosper’ as he said, “Mind meld. I had young Mr. Roddenberry on board for a short time.” Rose gasped and he rocked up onto the balls of his feet, happy to have surprised her, “Oh yes,” he grinned. “Though I can’t say he took much of what I showed him to heart. I’m hardly emotionless. And he called the TARDIS a poor excuse for a starship. Good job for him we were on Earth at the time or he’d have spent the next forty years working in some burger joint on Alpha Centauri.”
“You wouldn’t have abandoned him.”
“In my Sixth incarnation? I certainly would have. But I didn’t get the chance. I simply shut the door in his face and took off for parts unknown and the rest…
“…is television history,” Rose concluded.
“Indeed. But I did take the young reprobate to Androgolfus and I explained all about the Dilithium mines. When Androgolfus exploded…”
“It exploded?”
“Sabotage,” the Doctor clarified. “A single nuclear blast ignited the crystals in a chain reaction. Blew the mining planet to bits and created all of those moons. Terrible loss of life.”
“Not you, then,” Rose gathered, climbing gracefully out of bed. She drew a sheet with her, wrapping it around her like a toga as she cleared the arbor.
"Me?"
Seeing his affronted glare, she spoke defensively, “You’ve been known to blow up things you don’t approve of,” she reminded him. “Weapons factories, cyber labs and the like. But not if there were people.”
“There were people,” the Doctor confirmed solemnly. “I tried to help them but I arrived too late. Terrorists. Attempting to disrupt the fuel production.” He stared beyond her, replaying the horror in his mind. “Such beauty born from tragedy.”
Rose gave his arm a sympathetic pat as she padded past him on her way to the closet. She bent to pull knickers and a bra from the storage bins lining its back wall. Tipping his head, the Doctor drew his gaze along her curves. She had the most inviting aura he’d ever encountered. He couldn’t help but admire it. Almost couldn’t resist the urge to hold her. What was happening inside her body at that very moment astounded him. He took an involuntary step toward her.
“I need to take a shower,” she said, standing with clothing pressed to her chest. “Will this thing you want to show me wait an hour?”
“Tahitian Waterfall?” he suggested in a singsong way that was practically fawning. He had his head back, his tongue at the roof of his slightly open mouth. His broad smile was infectious.
Tahitian Waterfall was their absolute favorite bathing environment. Jack found it one day while exploring and insisted the Doctor and Rose join him for a dip. The room had deep warm pools for soaking and swimming and hot rocks for basking. It had slick mossy slides and several cascades of cool, clean water for rinsing off soapy residue.
Rose chuckled indulgently. “Oh, no,” she said, with faux perkiness, “I don’t need any privacy. You can tag along.”
“Privacy is for private stuff. Not baths,” the Doctor whined, following her out the door like an eager pup.
It was an old argument and they fell easily into their roles, each taking a side. When Rose had balked at sharing her bath with the Doctor and Jack, they’d united in stubborn solidarity against her. Her cultural taboos, it seemed, were provincial and unhealthy. They eased her toward sophistication. To that end, each of them made it his mission to wander in on her as soon as she started showering. The intrusions weren’t remotely sexual which, in Jack’s case, was a bit of a miracle. They were, instead, designed to overcome her shyness.
Both the Doctor and Jack came from cultures with communal baths. They enjoyed the camaraderie and they wanted her to enjoy it, too. They treated her like one of the guys. Stripped down and suds up, they would speak casually of daily routine. It took her a few weeks to get over blushing and gaping while clutching a towel to her breast. But there came a day when she stopped slinking about and ducking behind things. One day she cast off her towel and dived into the pool. A week or so later she took Jack up on his daily offer to wash her back. After that it wasn’t long until she was completely at ease lounging naked with two attractive males.
But things had changed. For one thing, the new, new Doctor developed his own kind of shyness. One she now understood was related to her touch. He'd been desperately avoiding arousal. For another thing, given the Doctor’s insistent proximity now that he'd moved past his shyness, the shower proved intensly erotic.
He twined around Rose, slipping along her soapy skin like an otter down a mudslide. She quickly gave up on hygiene. Casting aside her sponge so she could hold onto him. Pressed against a hot rock, the fine cool spray of the waterfall painting rainbows above her, Rose opened to his probing fingers. Let him stroke deep. It didn’t take much to bring her to the brink of ecstasy. But he would keep kissing and nuzzling and licking her randomly. He had a particular fondness for the water droplets collecting in the hollows of her collarbone. He dipped them up like a hummingbird sipping nectar. Groaning in frustration, Rose resolutely directed him to her breast and held his head in place to offset his natural inclination to roam. To his credit, once the Doctor understood what she needed, he applied himself diligently until she broke into tiny pieces under him.
Twenty minutes later as they were toweling off and dressing, their playful argument over privacy had spiraled into a true battle of wills.
Rose spoke with a firmness that belied her trembling knees. “We can’t keep bathing together,” she told him. “Things have changed.”
“Yes, but not to make you more ashamed,” the Doctor sighed. “Intimacy should remove barriers not erect them.”
“It’s not…”
“Your body, Rose Tyler, is an amazing feat of nature. Orgasms. No, rolling orgasms. Digestion. Elimination. Respiration. Cellular rejuvenation. You should celebrate every nuance of life. Share the beauty of it with the universe. Not hide it away.”
“Perhaps I’ll parade about starkers from now on,” Rose suggested.
“And why not? You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Even now...at this very moment…your body is creating…”
“It’s not shame,” Rose inserted forcefully. “It’s…,” she hesitated, searching for a way to explain without offending him. It crossed her mind to blurt out the truth. She couldn’t get enough of him and she was feeling completely distracted. But if she said that he would only grin madly and pull her back into bed. “Look…like you said, ‘fewer barriers.’ We live together, we sleep together…we do everything together…I’d just like a little time for me every now and then.”
“And this? This is your me time?” The Doctor sounded doubtful, “Ten minutes a day in the shower?”
“One of them. Or it could be. Why not?”
“Because baths aren’t really private are they? And they only last so long. You’ll get prune-y if you try to make Tahitian Waterfall your haven. Why don’t you just go back to your room?”
Rose winced. “To stay?”
“No,” he said. His heaved a put upon sigh so she’d know she was testing his patience. But, after shrugging into his suit jacket, he took her hand and peered into her large doe-like eyes. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I’m not trying to make you leave. But when you get the urge to leave...and you will. When you’ve had your fill of hearing me go on about nothing in particular and you need a break. Go to your room, close the door and I’ll take the hint to give you some time and/or space.” He nudged her shoulder with his and happily declared, “Time Lord: It’s what I do.”
“Yeah, I guess I could do that as well. But what I’m saying is sex isn't an open invitation to every part of my life. Since Jack...since the regeneration...I've enjoyed showering alone again. And I might want to do it still...every so often.”
He dropped her hand. “Fine. Eat alone. Sleep alone. Be alone. I don’t care.” Turning he strode out the door, his entire wounded attitude belying his words. He cared very much.
Rose rolled her eyes and muttered, “Jus’…every so often.”
She knew he was manipulating her. These well choreographed tiffs were designed to tweak her heartstrings. He needed reassurance. Not as much as he had before his regeneration. But he was painfully, comically, transparent about it now. He asked for comfort. And she couldn’t bear to hurt him so she rushed to the doorway, calling out, “Didn’t you want to show me something?”
She discovered him just outside the room, leaning his shoulder against the wall and waiting for her like a five-year old runaway waits at the curb certain his loved ones are coming. He smiled insolently.
“Probably already missed it,” he chirped. “Still we might be able to see something if we hurry.” Waving a hand at her, he said, “Go on. Get dressed,” and then, he pushed off the wall and, hands in pockets, started sauntering away.
“Couldn’t we just go back in time?” she suggested already turning back into the room to finish dressing.
“Not just now,” he shouted back, “Events are moving apace.” His voice echoed a bit with the distance he’d gained on her. “Andale, Andale, Arriba!”
Hearing his shout bounce, Rose doubled her dressing speed. She jerked on jeans and shoved her feet into shoes even as she yanked a hooded sweater over her head.
“Coming,” she sang, darting into the hall and running after him.
Even with her burst of speed, he beat her to the console room. He was standing by the monitor, rocking back and forth, heel to toe, when she rushed in breathlessly. He cast a brilliant smile at her before turning his attention back to the monitor.
“Glad you could make it,” he said without a trace of his earlier anger.
“What is with you and cartoon mice?” she asked.
“Over there,” he commanded, ignoring her rhetorical question as she often ignored his. He pointed vaguely toward a panel containing several switches. The panel also housed the usual clutter of bells and balls plus a gelatin mold and an inverted ice-cream cone. “Wrap your right hand around the Minulous Stabilizer. Hold it firmly but don’t squeeze.”
She cautiously approached the console. “The who?”
“The inverted ice-cream cone,” the Doctor said with a sad shake of his head. “I’ve told you about Minulous, I’m certain of it.”
“I didn’t know I’d have to stabilize it,” Rose said, moving to obey his command. “You might have stressed that in the lesson.”
The Doctor’s brows rose as he stared at her. “He was the inventor,” he intoned with pedantic solemnity. “Gregor Pixiliacious Minulous.”
She couldn’t hold in her mirth. “I know,” she burbled, delighted with his exasperation. “I was just having you on.” She closed the distance between them so she could lean into him as she said, “Gregor Pixiliacious Minulous invented the temporally transcendent viewer which....” Squinting, she struggled for a second to recall and then, with a small flourish of her hand, triumphantly concluded, “Stabilizes a window on future or past events.”
“Ha,” the Doctor said, enormously pleased by her recollection. “Exactly right.”
“The Stabilizer is one of the eight pieces of advanced technology scavenged by the Time Lords from other species to make TARDIS travel more comfortable and/or efficient,” Rose went on, showing off.
“Wrenched out of time and space, pirated, if you will,” the Doctor added. Grinning at her, he clutched at the air avariciously. “That’s what we were, Rose, temporal pirates. Only we didn’t go pillaging. We didn’t do anything.” Nudging her with an elbow, he gleefully confided, “We just stayed home and…lay around.” He managed to stop snickering when she walked away, shaking her head as if he were her eccentric old uncle.
“Anyway,” he drawled his exuberance fading only slightly. “Almost there. Put your hand back on the stabilizer. Now squeeze. Firmly. Gently. Yes. There we are.” Whistling a few bars of “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything” he made one or two adjustments. Then, he slapped the monitor on the side, causing it to wheel around in front of her, as he proudly announced, “Exactly thirty-six minutes ago. Convergence.”
Rose focused on the display before her. It contained a streaming set of the circular Gallifreyan cuneiforms, whole paragraphs of writing in one circling shape. But she couldn’t begin to read it. So she concentrated on the image. It looked like an old fashioned arcade game in progress. Space Invaders, she thought. A vast array of tiny ships had surrounded a large planet. It seemed like a hostile stand-off to Rose.
“Is it…a war?” she guessed. “Some kind of invasion?”
“No. Not a war. Though…there are similarities to an invasion.” Unable to restrain his enthusiasm, the Doctor bounded around to her side of the console. Leaning into her shoulder he, too, stared at the monitor. “That’s us,” he said. “This is you." He pointed to the planet. "And this,” he swept his finger in an arch to indicate the fleet of tiny ships, “is me. And we…are about to converge.”
“Converge,” Rose repeated turning the word over in her mind as it slowly melted on her tongue.
“Merge. Join together,” the Doctor murmured into her hair. “One life from two.”
Rose stiffened, peering intently at the screen. The tiny ships were arrowing down. One pierced the surface of the planet. The monitor image flared as the solid orb of the alien world shivered. The world divided in two and then divided again.
“Oh…hey…that’s not…I mean, you aren’t saying…?” She released the stabilizer, shying away as if it had scalded her. The image on the monitor froze and then faded. “You’re saying that’s us? Your ships? My planet?” Rose demanded, stabbing a shaking finger at the blank monitor. “Physically converging? Not some spiritual thing but…sperm and egg? I’m not…I mean, I can't be…” She nearly gagged on the idea but managed to cough it up, “Pregnant?”
The Doctor dropped his gaze to her belly, critically assessing the time. “Just about thirty minutes on, give or take a millisecond. I was right about that shower. We missed the big moment.” He beamed at her. “New life. It’s a miracle. It’s a wonder. It’s a girl.”
“No,” Rose said, shaking her head.
He raised his line of sight to intersect with hers. “Oh, yes. Can’t mistake the chromosomes,” he reached out a hand to the monitor, flipped a switch and the images returned. “See here. No ‘Y’. Definitely a girl. What do you think of Etta for a first name? I always fancied Etta for a girl.”
“No!”
“Too old world?” A frown creased his brow and his mouth twisted into a pensive line as he picked up on her anger. “Doesn’t have to be Etta.”
“Stop it,” she ordered, imperiously. “Stop giving it names, making it real. And do something! Right this minute! I can’t be pregnant.”
He cocked his head at her. His wet crest of hair gave him a look of bird-like confusion. “But you can,” he nodded at the monitor, “because you are.”
“I mean, I don’t want to be.”
“You don’t want…? But...we just had sex…lots of sex…” His voice cracked as he yelped, “Don’t you think you might have said something when I first brought up the idea? ‘Oh, and by the way Doctor, I don’t want to become pregnant.’ You couldn’t have said that before because, honestly, it’s a little late now she’s already here.”
“How was I supposed to know what you were on about? Converging? I thought it was some Time Lord thing like the darts or the dreaming.”
The Doctor stabbed a finger toward the interior of the TARDIS. “Intercourse is a universal precursor to conception. How could you not know that? Were you found under a cabbage leaf?”
“I know about sex and babies…that’s why I take precautions. But I just thought with you being so…alien…”
“I told you about Omega…all of those human women conceiving.”
“You also said everything was all different now. Seems to me you got most of it wrong. First with the arousal and now this.”
“I was in your mind, Rose. When I climaxed. When this,” he indicated her belly with an open-fingered gesture, “happened.” Moving away from her, he sputtered, “How…? Why…? No!” He held up his hand, palm toward her, two fingers extended. “How? How could…you even…? How is it possible to go through all we’ve gone through together…and not know what it meant? Not feel…anything…?”
“I feel things,” Rose cried, wiping a hand across her suddenly stinging eyes. “But I…I just thought we were…getting closer.”
“Closer?” he barked, momentarily immune to her distress. Mouth open, he gaped at the ceiling, silently repeating, “Closer,” before dropping his gaze back to hers.
Her stricken expression forestalled whatever he’d been about to say. It cut to his core. Fighting the urge to go to her, hold her, he covered his eyes with one hand, pressing the fingers to his brow ridges and pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a migraine. His dimple appeared when he pushed a long, harsh sigh through his clenched teeth. She didn’t understand. Obviously. Inhaling again, he wiped his hand down his face to his throat. He stared into space for a moment, breathing heavily. Then, eyes widening, he straightened his shoulders.
Turning back to face her squarely, he started over, “You didn’t want to converge? Despite what you said to the contrary?”
“Are you stupid? Or just completely lost in your own alien world? Obviously we’re not getting through to each other. I wear a patch,” she fumbled for the tiny square of contraceptive reassurance. Finding it on her hip, she twisted around to show him. “Why do you think that is?”
“Stupid? The little girl is calling me stupid,” he said, sounding remarkably like his ninth incarnation. “When she apparently has no idea intercourse can lead to pregnancy…with or without a,” he waved a dismissive hand at her hip as he sneered, “patch? What? Was it all some kind of game to you? I was in your mind. You were in mine. Didn’t you sense anything? Or when it comes right down to it is it all about transient pleasure? Typical human reaction…shortsighted…”
“Don’t start in on my species,” Rose said with steely coldness. “I asked you if we needed protection. Something beyond the patch. You’re the one who misunderstood.”
His face twisted into a mask of disdain. “Protection?” He repeated in a hysterical register. Then, as the light dawned, he glanced down at her patch again. “Oh, of course,” he breathed. Gritting his teeth, he dropped his head back and groaned, “Prophylactic protection.” His eyes glazed over as his attention turned inward for an examination of his motives. “I did misunderstand. Why?”
The answer came too quickly. He wanted to believe in Rose. The weight of his mistake crashed down on him. He’d been completely naïve, expecting her to feel the way he did about this wonderful new life. Sex was nothing to her. True Union little more than a drugged sleep. She’d shared her bed with Mickey and several others. She would have offered her favors to Jack, given a bit more encouragement. She wore a patch. To avoid any permanency. Any ties. He’d been a fool to link his life to a human child. She would leave, tire of him, just like all the rest had done. Did he think somehow she’d stay forever? No, he was alone as he’d always been. Only now, it hurt to breathe.
Focusing on her again he said, “You meant…protection against unwanted pregnancy…not injury or disease?” Rose smiled a tight, sickly smile and gave a few very tiny, very rapid nods of her head. “Stupid of me,” he sighed.
“Like I said,” she snapped, twisting the knife.
“You might have been clearer.”
“I shouldn’t have to be. You’re the one knew where all this was leading. Some things need a little discussion. Before you shot me full of neurotoxins, before you started any of this, maybe you should have asked if I even wanted children.”
“You don’t want children?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Look at us. Look at me. I’m 20 years old. Single. No job. No stability. I just started living my own life. And you? You can’t sit still for five minutes, let alone stay in one place for nine months. Look at what we do. We travel through time and space, getting into trouble every other stop. We nearly died twice last week. And you said kids can’t travel in time, just this morning we said no children.”
“Oh!” He brightened considerably as her concerns became clear to him. “Obviously, no. We aren’t going to keep the baby. Raise it here in the TARDIS. That would be impossible.”
“We’re not going to keep…? What the hell does that mean?”
“We can’t keep it with us. I thought you understood that from our earlier…but, of course, you didn’t,” he sighed. “Alright, then…it’s like this: Time Lords don’t have children. I mean, obviously, we have children. We reproduce. Or we did at one time, before everything stopped working. But we never kept our children onboard a TARDIS. It’s not safe. There’s background radiation. I’ve mentioned the radiation. Perfectly harmless to an adult organism but catastrophic for a developing one. And then there’s the dangers…as you mentioned…”
“You knew that and you just…let this happen?” Rose’s hand dropped to her belly in an unconsciously protective gesture. “What are we going to do?”
“Send her somewhere safe. Back in the day, before the war, we would have sent her to the Looms. A sort of crèche. That’s were I was raised. By Penelope and the other nurses. But since the Looms are no more…I was thinking we could send little Etta to Sarah Jane.”
“Sarah Jane…? Smith?”
“Is there any other?” the Doctor asked, rhetorically. “She’ll make a wonderful mother, don’t you think? Provide a good home. Stable environment. Excellent income. Lots of affection. What more could you ask for? We can pop in for a visit any time. And a child will give her a bit of company in her old age. She confided in me that there’s small chance she’ll have one of her own. Works out perfectly all around.”
“Except I’m not leaving my baby to grow up with a complete stranger,” Rose growled.
The Doctor was already setting coordinates but her adamancy gave him pause. “Not a stranger,” he said, “Sarah Jane.” Seeing the flash of maternal zeal in Rose’s eyes, he hastily added in a very small voice, “You know Sarah Jane. She’s…almost family.”
“You know who else is almost family? You and I. You’d abandon your own child. Do you have any idea what it’s like growing up without a father? Because I do.”
“But she’ll have a father…parents. Know them…us. We’ll visit. Constantly. Christmas and every birthday and when she’s old enough to travel with us safely…”
“We’ll steal her away from Sarah Jane? It is just like Peter Pan. My mum had it exactly right. She’s your Wendy. And oh, god, my mum,” Rose groaned, suddenly seeing her mother’s reaction in her mind’s eye. “I show up pregnant with an alien baby she’s gonna go mental.”
The Doctor grimaced and scratched an ear. “Well. See. I thought of that and not to take anything away from Jackie but…”
“But…? But…what? Don’t you say anything against my mother. She did okay raising me. Better than your precious Sarah Jane would, I’d wager. And how do you know Miss Sarah Jane Smith even wants a baby?” His startled, somewhat guilty, expression was all the answer she needed. “You don’t, do you? No, you’re just merrily playing God with everyone’s life today. Omega’s got nothing on you. Might as well carry us off by force when you feel free to dump us anywhere you please. Stick us with unwanted, unexpected babies.” She stalked toward the TARDIS interior but paused to cast one final comment over her shoulder. “And we’re not calling her Etta.”
Numb as a man battered by the surf, the Doctor gripped the edge of the console and stared after her for very long time before quietly suggesting, “Margo, maybe? Perhaps.” He placed a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles bunching there. Then, lifting one brow, added, “Or else…Eloise.”
END THIS PART
PART SEVEN
By Rabid1st
Ten/Rose
Rating: NC-17 (Mature…Adult)
Beta Babes: Lil, Keswindhover & Melissa
Warning: Alien Sex (though 100% Tentacle-Free)
Summary: Rose and the Doctor made love Time Lord Style and it was all a bit different. Now what?
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. If I did…the show would be censored by…everyone but you smutty few. I humbly thank Russell T. Davies for creating the sweetest, most-loving, most-genuinely iconic couple in the history of the world for me to play with.
PART ONE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/81014.html#cutid1
PART TWO
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/81708.html#cutid1
PART THREE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/82748.html#cutid1
PART FOUR
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/82969.html#cutid1
PART FIVE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/83272.html
PART SIX
A soft touch on the cheek roused Rose from dreamless slumber. She opened her eyes to a pale blindfold and jerked reflexively. The sharp movement broke her from the Doctor’s sheltering embrace and set off a flurry of white flower petals. They avalanched down her body. A falling one kissed her lips as she lifted her head. Others caressed her bare breasts. Shifting her arm, she created a wake of fluttering softness. She glanced at the Doctor as she combed handfuls of petals from her hair. He was fast asleep, buried in floral abundance. His dark rooster-comb of hair stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the monochromatic scene, pale skin dressed in pale petals. Rose turned a critical eye on his latest dream-induced masterpiece.
The vast garden of their room had shrunk to a close bower of constantly shifting vines and endlessly budding flowers. Greenery diffused the light. Rose looked on in amused fascination as seasons cycled by overhead. The rapidly changing arbor reminded her of time-lapse photography. Sprays of moon-white blossoms danced just beyond her reach, budding, blooming and then casting off their petals. The bed was frosted in white petals. Their oddly comforting, if unearthly, scent perfumed the air. Leaves turned to red-brown before blowing away. The bare branches were green again in minutes.
Delighted, Rose beamed at the Doctor. But, of course, he didn’t stir. The TARDIS only performed this kind of miracle when it could access his dreaming subconscious. Pondering his mental state, Rose settled once again into the crook of his arm. Cheek pillowed on his chest, she enjoyed the show. Purple and yellow birds flitted through the greenery, trilling like cherubim. Their brightly colored plumage flashed between the pale flowers and dark leaves. Rose noticed the shape of the bed had changed. It curved to form a nest of downy soft blankets.
This, Rose thought, was what it must be like in Heaven, safe and comforting and endlessly interesting. Physically and emotionally sated, you could lie in your lover’s arms while all around you angels worked wonders in their sleep. She needed the loo and a shower but she didn’t want to stir from this spot. The Doctor held her loosely as he slept and smiled just a little from time to time. He was a solid reassurance beside her, warm and soothing. They were skin-to-skin under the drift of snowy petals and Rose felt marvelous. Every breath she drew tasted as sweet as spring water on a hot day. Her body hummed with energy and yet could not be more relaxed.
Unable to check her impulse, she gently brushed the accumulated petals from his face. She exposed the bow of his lips. Mauve and dangerous she thought and smiled. With exaggerated care, she traced one arched brow, careful as an archeologist dusting soil from treasure. Her fingers trailed across his cheek, outlining its curves and angles. He murmured contentedly, turning to snuggle into her as he opened his eyes. For a long moment, they gazed at one another with perfect understanding and then he grinned. His sweet expression eclipsed the beauty of their new surroundings. It sat Rose’s heart hammering.
Feeling oddly shaky inside and a bit shy, she ducked her chin and nervously chewed on her thumbnail as she grinned back at him. She’d had never been much of a romantic, generally scoffing at her mother’s soap operas and Shareen’s bodice-ripper novels. But it was hard to scoff when your heart banged into your ribcage every time someone smiled. The Doctor took her breath away, literally. She was certain if she ever had to tell him how she felt she wouldn’t be able to speak for lack of air. She would probably stutter and cry. What she felt seemed to go far beyond words anyway. She loved her mother and father and Mickey. How could the same word be applied to this burning need for her Doctor? Whenever she thought of telling him she loved him, tears blurred her vision and she had to swallow against a lump in her throat.
Forcing herself to look away from the relentless pull of his gaze, Rose threw a nonchalant glance toward the arbor. “Someone’s happy, yeah?” she said, bobbing her chin at the beautiful canopy. It had stopped cycling and now held on late spring.
The Doctor misunderstood. Stretching his arm over his head, he gently stroked the wall above the bed as he said, “She is rather. You know, I’ve never heard of a TARDIS responding this way to intercourse.” He pursed his lips slightly as he followed an errant line of thought. “I wonder…if the convergence…? Not that there’s much written about convergence. We should write a book, for future generations…or past ones…the mechanics and psychology of…”
Rose snorted. “Not the TARDIS,” she groaned. Tilting her head, she let her fingers drift down his chest. “I meant you.”
“Oh, me.” He grinned broadly, amused by his own absurdity, and returned his attention to Rose. “Yes, I am, rather. Somewhat giddy.” Lowering his hand to cup her cheek, he murmured, “Did you doubt it?”
She was surprised to discover, upon consideration, she hadn’t doubted it at all. Shaking her head she smiled sweetly at him as she let her fingers play over his soft skin. He was eminently touchable, so different from his ninth self. She circled his navel three times before her hand slid slowly along his waist and then around to his back. Rolling over, she spilled onto his chest, showering him with more petals as her fingertips skated up his spine. His nose twitched as her hair tickled it. Her cheek brushed his when she wriggled into a more comfortable position.
“And you, Rose Tyler,” he declared, using her full name as Gallifreyan convention demanded when addressing important issues, “are you happy?”
Pushing into a cobra pose, Rose kissed the tip of his nose and then said, “Not bad.” Her gaze dipped to the point where their flesh met. “No prickly skin.”
“Not aroused.”
“Really?”
He shrugged off her doubt. “I have a longer refractory period than a human male. And,” he sniffed, loftily, “it may surprise you to know…exposure to your naked flesh, while pleasant, isn’t particularly stimulating.”
The revelation inspired a slight pout. Rose tugged at her earlobe. Not hurt or displeased but calculating. It was a look the Doctor knew well. Her narrow-eyed gaze glittered. Her teeth worried at her lower lip. The set of her jaw told him quite clearly it wouldn’t take her long to discover what did arouse him. She had an arsenal at her disposal, after all. Even this tenacity stirred him. He simply adored watching her figure things out.
“My mum was right about you,” she said, at last.
“Which time?” the Doctor muttered, drawing his fingers through her hair. As he combed errant strands aside others fell across her face to replace them. “Not when she called me a heartless buffoon, I hope. I have an abundance of hearts, Rose. True, not as many as an earthworm or a Zaliglian Soldier but…”
Chuckling, Rose turned her cheek into his palm. “No. When she said you were like the Fairy King, casting your spell on me.”
“Oberon?” The Doctor sneered. “Preposterous…slanderous. She said I snatched children away in the night and left women weeping and gnashing their teeth…”
“By the well,” Rose finished, nodding.
“Trust your mother to confuse Coleridge with the Bible and then just for good measure to toss in a healthy dash of Peter Pan.”
“You are a bit like Peter,” Rose said. “Straight on ‘til morning. Third star on the right.”
“Second star,” the Doctor corrected. “Third star’s Mercury. You’ll end up in another novel entirely. And I’m nothing like Pan. Or Oberon, come to that,” He managed to look perplexed and a little incensed as he went on, “One is a perpetual child. The other a brooder. Do I brood? No, I do not.”
“Not so much since the regeneration. But you did before.”
Mouth pulling tight, he dipped his head to the side, granting her point. “One thing you can't say about me, I’ve never lured anyone away in the night. Well, maybe once. But not a child. Never a child.” He squirmed guiltily as he admitted to, “A stewardess from Brisbane. And once, a very drunk Irishman but he didn’t end up in the TARDIS. Most people just stumble in when I’m not looking and wander off when they’ve had their fill of me.” He squeezed her and brooding slightly, sighed, “You’ll do that one day, I suppose.”
“What? Wander off?” She looked at him in surprise. “Never.”
He didn’t look at her but a slow smile warmed his cocoa-colored eyes. Then the smile melted away into pensive consideration. Brows lifting gracefully, he turned toward her and asked, “What would I do with a stolen child, anyway? Assuming I had the inclination? Strikes me as a load of bother, stealing children." His upper lip pulled back in distaste. "They’d always be underfoot and everything would get sticky. Children tend to be sticky, Rose,” he confided as if he were sharing some nugget of alien wisdom gleaned through years of space travel. “Besides the prepubescent can’t travel in time. It plays havoc with their development.”
“Then it’s settled. We definitely won’t have children,” Rose said, airily.
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when she realized what she’d just implied. In the process of turning her head to survey the canopy again, she stilled and grimaced. Her teeth worried at her lower lip as a hot blush inundated her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor shoot her the most peculiar stare and cringed inwardly. She tensed for the rejection she was certain was coming. But the Doctor seemed speechless. Both of his brows arched and his mouth flapped as if he meant to question her but couldn’t think of where to begin.
Rose spoke before he did. “Waking up like this,” she continued, with enough blithe perkiness to hide any telltale tremor in her voice, “I can just about see Mum’s point though. Sort of makes me feel like a fairy princess.”
“You’d be Titania,” the Doctor corrected, very close to her ear. Rose shivered as another wave of prickling of heat swept over her.
Before she could think how to respond to him, he startled her with a sudden bray of laughter. His whole body shook with amusement. “And that would make Mr. Mickey…Bottom,” he announced, happily, “Ha. He is rather. A bottom.” Offended on her friend’s behalf, Rose forgot her momentary befuddlement and lightly poked the Doctor’s shoulder in a futile effort to make him stop guffawing. After a few more sniggers, he forced his face into a semblance of sobriety and managed a tense little, “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not. I’m sadly unrepentant.”
“Mickey is not an ass. He’s the sweetest person I know,” she chided, loyally.
“What about me?”
“You’re not sweet at all.”
“See how you’ve changed your tune? You, Rose Tyler, are inconstant. I was sweet enough for you last night.”
“I’ve always thought there was something Puckish about you,” she said, avoiding all of the deeper emotional questions. She fluttered her hand as she added, “You know with the ‘I am the merry wanderer’ stuff?”
“Did we see A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” he asked, surprised by her ready references to the play.
Rose shook her head. “The Khalraxi revolted remember? We read it after.”
“I made you mulled cider,” he recalled.
“Because my fingers got frosty,” she added, smiling.
“Holding high the banner of revolution,” he finished. “How many times must I tell you to wear gloves when you’re picked as flag bearer?” He caught her fingers and carried them to his lips for a series of quick kisses “Strange how people revolt whenever we stop by to take in a play or pick up a ham sandwich. You’d think we sowed discord. And nothing could be further from the truth. Soul of peace and enlightenment, that’s me.”
“Though it would be very Puckish of you to sow discord,” Rose mused.
“No, I shan’t be Puck. I feel Puck is a little too subservient for my tastes. I never was one to take orders. I fly. I flit. All that rubbish.”
“But you do, rather,” Rose grinned. “Flit and fly. Like when you’ve successfully calibrated the time rotor, yeah?”
“Yes, but Oberon,” he mewed plaintively, bouncing a little like a child wheedling a treat from a reluctant nursemaid, “Much more…majestic. And a very snappy dresser. Can’t you see me striding about in the Cloak of Shadows? And, now I think on it, I have indeed heard mermaids singing to calm the seas in dulcet tones. And while the stars didn’t precisely shoot from their spheres, there may have been a meteor or two. Of course, I was in a very fine restaurant at the time not perched on a promontory. Still, we could stretch the point.”
“I’d like to see a mermaid.” Rose said.
“Ikalotilus 3,” the Doctor told her. “But not at this time of year. We’ll aim for the spawning season and,” he swallowed an “of course” and went on hastily, “you’ll have to be tied to something solid. Masts are ideal but a good stout oaken beam will do in a pinch.”
“I see. So it’s one of those restaurants,” Rose said, chuckling seductively.
Appreciating her innuendo, the Doctor snickered and swiveled his hips, making her jiggle and slide. She clutched at his shoulders, triggering his arousal response as she laughed against his skin. The warm enticement of her joy acted on him the way her naked proximity would on a human male. It inspired him to pounce. Gripping her arms just above the elbows, he rolled to pin her. She squirmed. He straddled her hips and kissed her soundly.
They tussled, playfully pushing one another. Rose found his most ticklish spot and dug her fingers in. He tossed his head back, laughing so hard he tipped over. She wriggled free and tossed a handful of petals at him like a snowball. He reciprocated and for a few giddy minutes the air whirled with white petals.
Sweeping under her guard, the Doctor pulled Rose into his body, hugging her tight until she surrendered. She sprawled across his lap, her bum settling between his thighs, and they spent an exquisitely peaceful few minutes in the middle of the bed murmuring nonsense to one another before the Doctor drew in a sharp breath and broke away from the embrace.
“No, honestly,” he said, slithering around her and down to the foot of the bed. “I can’t have you falling hopelessly in love with one of the sea-folk, casting yourself into the surf. Think of the inconvenience. I’d have to learn to scuba dive again," he grimaced at the thought, "it’s been…literally… centuries…and then there’s the bartering.”
“I could see how it would cause you a lot of trouble,” Rose said, crawling after him.
“Merfolk drive notoriously hard bargains. I might have to fight a duel or go on a hopeless quest or some such to save you,” he said. Glancing back at her, he added, “Time we were up. Get dressed. Run to the loo and then meet me in the console room. I have something to show you.”
“Do you always say that on the morning after?” Rose asked, giggling. “’Get up, get dressed and meet me in the console room…I have something to show you,’” she quoted. “You said exactly the same thing the last time.”
“Did I?” The Doctor’s brow furrowed for a second and then he tilted his head and beamed. “I did. Yes.” He waved a carefree hand. “But that thing is not this thing. This is a totally different thing.”
“So, what was it last time?”
“The burning moons of Androgolfus,” the Doctor said, as he stooped to pluck his shirt from the floor. “Considered to be one of the fifteen most romantically beautiful sights in this or any other galaxy.” He recovered his trousers, shaking them free of leaves. “More people get engaged under the light of those moons than on all the gondolas in Venice,” he went on as he dressed. “That rift in time was only a short hop away from them. But I’m afraid I got rather distracted. Cybermen. Mickey. A tear in the fabric of existence.”
“You had a busy day.”
“I did. But one day we’ll go back there. I know you’ll adore it. Literally, scores of moons and smaller satellites orbit the three planets in the system. And all of them, the moons, burn with a perpetual fire. Nothing can extinguish them but time. Can you imagine how lovely it is, Rose, fire in the cold heart of space?”
Rose watched him search for his left shoe and finally gestured toward it. “By the desk,” she said. “So, these moons burn," she tugged at her earlobe, "but how can there be fire in space?”
“Some fires don’t need oxygen. The moons themselves fuel the fire. The Androgolfus System was once home to the galaxy’s most productive Dilithium crystal mines and then one day....”
“Dilithium? Like on Star Trek?”
“Exactly like. Dilithium crystals are highly unstable but for centuries they were the only natural resource powerful enough to fuel the big dreadnaughts and luxury liners of the Great and Beneficent Federation of United Planets. The Federation ruled most of the Horsehead Nebula for about 300 years, give or take a decade. Until one day there was this huge uprising of the labor force and…”
Rose wasn’t interested in uprisings. “I thought that was just…for television. The Federation and all. Go on, tell me, are there Vulcans?”
“I thought you knew,” the Doctor said, offhandedly. “Or suspected, at least. Since you’ve called me Mr. Spock and you know all about the,” he flashed the hand signal for ‘live long and prosper’ as he said, “Mind meld. I had young Mr. Roddenberry on board for a short time.” Rose gasped and he rocked up onto the balls of his feet, happy to have surprised her, “Oh yes,” he grinned. “Though I can’t say he took much of what I showed him to heart. I’m hardly emotionless. And he called the TARDIS a poor excuse for a starship. Good job for him we were on Earth at the time or he’d have spent the next forty years working in some burger joint on Alpha Centauri.”
“You wouldn’t have abandoned him.”
“In my Sixth incarnation? I certainly would have. But I didn’t get the chance. I simply shut the door in his face and took off for parts unknown and the rest…
“…is television history,” Rose concluded.
“Indeed. But I did take the young reprobate to Androgolfus and I explained all about the Dilithium mines. When Androgolfus exploded…”
“It exploded?”
“Sabotage,” the Doctor clarified. “A single nuclear blast ignited the crystals in a chain reaction. Blew the mining planet to bits and created all of those moons. Terrible loss of life.”
“Not you, then,” Rose gathered, climbing gracefully out of bed. She drew a sheet with her, wrapping it around her like a toga as she cleared the arbor.
"Me?"
Seeing his affronted glare, she spoke defensively, “You’ve been known to blow up things you don’t approve of,” she reminded him. “Weapons factories, cyber labs and the like. But not if there were people.”
“There were people,” the Doctor confirmed solemnly. “I tried to help them but I arrived too late. Terrorists. Attempting to disrupt the fuel production.” He stared beyond her, replaying the horror in his mind. “Such beauty born from tragedy.”
Rose gave his arm a sympathetic pat as she padded past him on her way to the closet. She bent to pull knickers and a bra from the storage bins lining its back wall. Tipping his head, the Doctor drew his gaze along her curves. She had the most inviting aura he’d ever encountered. He couldn’t help but admire it. Almost couldn’t resist the urge to hold her. What was happening inside her body at that very moment astounded him. He took an involuntary step toward her.
“I need to take a shower,” she said, standing with clothing pressed to her chest. “Will this thing you want to show me wait an hour?”
“Tahitian Waterfall?” he suggested in a singsong way that was practically fawning. He had his head back, his tongue at the roof of his slightly open mouth. His broad smile was infectious.
Tahitian Waterfall was their absolute favorite bathing environment. Jack found it one day while exploring and insisted the Doctor and Rose join him for a dip. The room had deep warm pools for soaking and swimming and hot rocks for basking. It had slick mossy slides and several cascades of cool, clean water for rinsing off soapy residue.
Rose chuckled indulgently. “Oh, no,” she said, with faux perkiness, “I don’t need any privacy. You can tag along.”
“Privacy is for private stuff. Not baths,” the Doctor whined, following her out the door like an eager pup.
It was an old argument and they fell easily into their roles, each taking a side. When Rose had balked at sharing her bath with the Doctor and Jack, they’d united in stubborn solidarity against her. Her cultural taboos, it seemed, were provincial and unhealthy. They eased her toward sophistication. To that end, each of them made it his mission to wander in on her as soon as she started showering. The intrusions weren’t remotely sexual which, in Jack’s case, was a bit of a miracle. They were, instead, designed to overcome her shyness.
Both the Doctor and Jack came from cultures with communal baths. They enjoyed the camaraderie and they wanted her to enjoy it, too. They treated her like one of the guys. Stripped down and suds up, they would speak casually of daily routine. It took her a few weeks to get over blushing and gaping while clutching a towel to her breast. But there came a day when she stopped slinking about and ducking behind things. One day she cast off her towel and dived into the pool. A week or so later she took Jack up on his daily offer to wash her back. After that it wasn’t long until she was completely at ease lounging naked with two attractive males.
But things had changed. For one thing, the new, new Doctor developed his own kind of shyness. One she now understood was related to her touch. He'd been desperately avoiding arousal. For another thing, given the Doctor’s insistent proximity now that he'd moved past his shyness, the shower proved intensly erotic.
He twined around Rose, slipping along her soapy skin like an otter down a mudslide. She quickly gave up on hygiene. Casting aside her sponge so she could hold onto him. Pressed against a hot rock, the fine cool spray of the waterfall painting rainbows above her, Rose opened to his probing fingers. Let him stroke deep. It didn’t take much to bring her to the brink of ecstasy. But he would keep kissing and nuzzling and licking her randomly. He had a particular fondness for the water droplets collecting in the hollows of her collarbone. He dipped them up like a hummingbird sipping nectar. Groaning in frustration, Rose resolutely directed him to her breast and held his head in place to offset his natural inclination to roam. To his credit, once the Doctor understood what she needed, he applied himself diligently until she broke into tiny pieces under him.
Twenty minutes later as they were toweling off and dressing, their playful argument over privacy had spiraled into a true battle of wills.
Rose spoke with a firmness that belied her trembling knees. “We can’t keep bathing together,” she told him. “Things have changed.”
“Yes, but not to make you more ashamed,” the Doctor sighed. “Intimacy should remove barriers not erect them.”
“It’s not…”
“Your body, Rose Tyler, is an amazing feat of nature. Orgasms. No, rolling orgasms. Digestion. Elimination. Respiration. Cellular rejuvenation. You should celebrate every nuance of life. Share the beauty of it with the universe. Not hide it away.”
“Perhaps I’ll parade about starkers from now on,” Rose suggested.
“And why not? You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Even now...at this very moment…your body is creating…”
“It’s not shame,” Rose inserted forcefully. “It’s…,” she hesitated, searching for a way to explain without offending him. It crossed her mind to blurt out the truth. She couldn’t get enough of him and she was feeling completely distracted. But if she said that he would only grin madly and pull her back into bed. “Look…like you said, ‘fewer barriers.’ We live together, we sleep together…we do everything together…I’d just like a little time for me every now and then.”
“And this? This is your me time?” The Doctor sounded doubtful, “Ten minutes a day in the shower?”
“One of them. Or it could be. Why not?”
“Because baths aren’t really private are they? And they only last so long. You’ll get prune-y if you try to make Tahitian Waterfall your haven. Why don’t you just go back to your room?”
Rose winced. “To stay?”
“No,” he said. His heaved a put upon sigh so she’d know she was testing his patience. But, after shrugging into his suit jacket, he took her hand and peered into her large doe-like eyes. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I’m not trying to make you leave. But when you get the urge to leave...and you will. When you’ve had your fill of hearing me go on about nothing in particular and you need a break. Go to your room, close the door and I’ll take the hint to give you some time and/or space.” He nudged her shoulder with his and happily declared, “Time Lord: It’s what I do.”
“Yeah, I guess I could do that as well. But what I’m saying is sex isn't an open invitation to every part of my life. Since Jack...since the regeneration...I've enjoyed showering alone again. And I might want to do it still...every so often.”
He dropped her hand. “Fine. Eat alone. Sleep alone. Be alone. I don’t care.” Turning he strode out the door, his entire wounded attitude belying his words. He cared very much.
Rose rolled her eyes and muttered, “Jus’…every so often.”
She knew he was manipulating her. These well choreographed tiffs were designed to tweak her heartstrings. He needed reassurance. Not as much as he had before his regeneration. But he was painfully, comically, transparent about it now. He asked for comfort. And she couldn’t bear to hurt him so she rushed to the doorway, calling out, “Didn’t you want to show me something?”
She discovered him just outside the room, leaning his shoulder against the wall and waiting for her like a five-year old runaway waits at the curb certain his loved ones are coming. He smiled insolently.
“Probably already missed it,” he chirped. “Still we might be able to see something if we hurry.” Waving a hand at her, he said, “Go on. Get dressed,” and then, he pushed off the wall and, hands in pockets, started sauntering away.
“Couldn’t we just go back in time?” she suggested already turning back into the room to finish dressing.
“Not just now,” he shouted back, “Events are moving apace.” His voice echoed a bit with the distance he’d gained on her. “Andale, Andale, Arriba!”
Hearing his shout bounce, Rose doubled her dressing speed. She jerked on jeans and shoved her feet into shoes even as she yanked a hooded sweater over her head.
“Coming,” she sang, darting into the hall and running after him.
Even with her burst of speed, he beat her to the console room. He was standing by the monitor, rocking back and forth, heel to toe, when she rushed in breathlessly. He cast a brilliant smile at her before turning his attention back to the monitor.
“Glad you could make it,” he said without a trace of his earlier anger.
“What is with you and cartoon mice?” she asked.
“Over there,” he commanded, ignoring her rhetorical question as she often ignored his. He pointed vaguely toward a panel containing several switches. The panel also housed the usual clutter of bells and balls plus a gelatin mold and an inverted ice-cream cone. “Wrap your right hand around the Minulous Stabilizer. Hold it firmly but don’t squeeze.”
She cautiously approached the console. “The who?”
“The inverted ice-cream cone,” the Doctor said with a sad shake of his head. “I’ve told you about Minulous, I’m certain of it.”
“I didn’t know I’d have to stabilize it,” Rose said, moving to obey his command. “You might have stressed that in the lesson.”
The Doctor’s brows rose as he stared at her. “He was the inventor,” he intoned with pedantic solemnity. “Gregor Pixiliacious Minulous.”
She couldn’t hold in her mirth. “I know,” she burbled, delighted with his exasperation. “I was just having you on.” She closed the distance between them so she could lean into him as she said, “Gregor Pixiliacious Minulous invented the temporally transcendent viewer which....” Squinting, she struggled for a second to recall and then, with a small flourish of her hand, triumphantly concluded, “Stabilizes a window on future or past events.”
“Ha,” the Doctor said, enormously pleased by her recollection. “Exactly right.”
“The Stabilizer is one of the eight pieces of advanced technology scavenged by the Time Lords from other species to make TARDIS travel more comfortable and/or efficient,” Rose went on, showing off.
“Wrenched out of time and space, pirated, if you will,” the Doctor added. Grinning at her, he clutched at the air avariciously. “That’s what we were, Rose, temporal pirates. Only we didn’t go pillaging. We didn’t do anything.” Nudging her with an elbow, he gleefully confided, “We just stayed home and…lay around.” He managed to stop snickering when she walked away, shaking her head as if he were her eccentric old uncle.
“Anyway,” he drawled his exuberance fading only slightly. “Almost there. Put your hand back on the stabilizer. Now squeeze. Firmly. Gently. Yes. There we are.” Whistling a few bars of “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything” he made one or two adjustments. Then, he slapped the monitor on the side, causing it to wheel around in front of her, as he proudly announced, “Exactly thirty-six minutes ago. Convergence.”
Rose focused on the display before her. It contained a streaming set of the circular Gallifreyan cuneiforms, whole paragraphs of writing in one circling shape. But she couldn’t begin to read it. So she concentrated on the image. It looked like an old fashioned arcade game in progress. Space Invaders, she thought. A vast array of tiny ships had surrounded a large planet. It seemed like a hostile stand-off to Rose.
“Is it…a war?” she guessed. “Some kind of invasion?”
“No. Not a war. Though…there are similarities to an invasion.” Unable to restrain his enthusiasm, the Doctor bounded around to her side of the console. Leaning into her shoulder he, too, stared at the monitor. “That’s us,” he said. “This is you." He pointed to the planet. "And this,” he swept his finger in an arch to indicate the fleet of tiny ships, “is me. And we…are about to converge.”
“Converge,” Rose repeated turning the word over in her mind as it slowly melted on her tongue.
“Merge. Join together,” the Doctor murmured into her hair. “One life from two.”
Rose stiffened, peering intently at the screen. The tiny ships were arrowing down. One pierced the surface of the planet. The monitor image flared as the solid orb of the alien world shivered. The world divided in two and then divided again.
“Oh…hey…that’s not…I mean, you aren’t saying…?” She released the stabilizer, shying away as if it had scalded her. The image on the monitor froze and then faded. “You’re saying that’s us? Your ships? My planet?” Rose demanded, stabbing a shaking finger at the blank monitor. “Physically converging? Not some spiritual thing but…sperm and egg? I’m not…I mean, I can't be…” She nearly gagged on the idea but managed to cough it up, “Pregnant?”
The Doctor dropped his gaze to her belly, critically assessing the time. “Just about thirty minutes on, give or take a millisecond. I was right about that shower. We missed the big moment.” He beamed at her. “New life. It’s a miracle. It’s a wonder. It’s a girl.”
“No,” Rose said, shaking her head.
He raised his line of sight to intersect with hers. “Oh, yes. Can’t mistake the chromosomes,” he reached out a hand to the monitor, flipped a switch and the images returned. “See here. No ‘Y’. Definitely a girl. What do you think of Etta for a first name? I always fancied Etta for a girl.”
“No!”
“Too old world?” A frown creased his brow and his mouth twisted into a pensive line as he picked up on her anger. “Doesn’t have to be Etta.”
“Stop it,” she ordered, imperiously. “Stop giving it names, making it real. And do something! Right this minute! I can’t be pregnant.”
He cocked his head at her. His wet crest of hair gave him a look of bird-like confusion. “But you can,” he nodded at the monitor, “because you are.”
“I mean, I don’t want to be.”
“You don’t want…? But...we just had sex…lots of sex…” His voice cracked as he yelped, “Don’t you think you might have said something when I first brought up the idea? ‘Oh, and by the way Doctor, I don’t want to become pregnant.’ You couldn’t have said that before because, honestly, it’s a little late now she’s already here.”
“How was I supposed to know what you were on about? Converging? I thought it was some Time Lord thing like the darts or the dreaming.”
The Doctor stabbed a finger toward the interior of the TARDIS. “Intercourse is a universal precursor to conception. How could you not know that? Were you found under a cabbage leaf?”
“I know about sex and babies…that’s why I take precautions. But I just thought with you being so…alien…”
“I told you about Omega…all of those human women conceiving.”
“You also said everything was all different now. Seems to me you got most of it wrong. First with the arousal and now this.”
“I was in your mind, Rose. When I climaxed. When this,” he indicated her belly with an open-fingered gesture, “happened.” Moving away from her, he sputtered, “How…? Why…? No!” He held up his hand, palm toward her, two fingers extended. “How? How could…you even…? How is it possible to go through all we’ve gone through together…and not know what it meant? Not feel…anything…?”
“I feel things,” Rose cried, wiping a hand across her suddenly stinging eyes. “But I…I just thought we were…getting closer.”
“Closer?” he barked, momentarily immune to her distress. Mouth open, he gaped at the ceiling, silently repeating, “Closer,” before dropping his gaze back to hers.
Her stricken expression forestalled whatever he’d been about to say. It cut to his core. Fighting the urge to go to her, hold her, he covered his eyes with one hand, pressing the fingers to his brow ridges and pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a migraine. His dimple appeared when he pushed a long, harsh sigh through his clenched teeth. She didn’t understand. Obviously. Inhaling again, he wiped his hand down his face to his throat. He stared into space for a moment, breathing heavily. Then, eyes widening, he straightened his shoulders.
Turning back to face her squarely, he started over, “You didn’t want to converge? Despite what you said to the contrary?”
“Are you stupid? Or just completely lost in your own alien world? Obviously we’re not getting through to each other. I wear a patch,” she fumbled for the tiny square of contraceptive reassurance. Finding it on her hip, she twisted around to show him. “Why do you think that is?”
“Stupid? The little girl is calling me stupid,” he said, sounding remarkably like his ninth incarnation. “When she apparently has no idea intercourse can lead to pregnancy…with or without a,” he waved a dismissive hand at her hip as he sneered, “patch? What? Was it all some kind of game to you? I was in your mind. You were in mine. Didn’t you sense anything? Or when it comes right down to it is it all about transient pleasure? Typical human reaction…shortsighted…”
“Don’t start in on my species,” Rose said with steely coldness. “I asked you if we needed protection. Something beyond the patch. You’re the one who misunderstood.”
His face twisted into a mask of disdain. “Protection?” He repeated in a hysterical register. Then, as the light dawned, he glanced down at her patch again. “Oh, of course,” he breathed. Gritting his teeth, he dropped his head back and groaned, “Prophylactic protection.” His eyes glazed over as his attention turned inward for an examination of his motives. “I did misunderstand. Why?”
The answer came too quickly. He wanted to believe in Rose. The weight of his mistake crashed down on him. He’d been completely naïve, expecting her to feel the way he did about this wonderful new life. Sex was nothing to her. True Union little more than a drugged sleep. She’d shared her bed with Mickey and several others. She would have offered her favors to Jack, given a bit more encouragement. She wore a patch. To avoid any permanency. Any ties. He’d been a fool to link his life to a human child. She would leave, tire of him, just like all the rest had done. Did he think somehow she’d stay forever? No, he was alone as he’d always been. Only now, it hurt to breathe.
Focusing on her again he said, “You meant…protection against unwanted pregnancy…not injury or disease?” Rose smiled a tight, sickly smile and gave a few very tiny, very rapid nods of her head. “Stupid of me,” he sighed.
“Like I said,” she snapped, twisting the knife.
“You might have been clearer.”
“I shouldn’t have to be. You’re the one knew where all this was leading. Some things need a little discussion. Before you shot me full of neurotoxins, before you started any of this, maybe you should have asked if I even wanted children.”
“You don’t want children?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Look at us. Look at me. I’m 20 years old. Single. No job. No stability. I just started living my own life. And you? You can’t sit still for five minutes, let alone stay in one place for nine months. Look at what we do. We travel through time and space, getting into trouble every other stop. We nearly died twice last week. And you said kids can’t travel in time, just this morning we said no children.”
“Oh!” He brightened considerably as her concerns became clear to him. “Obviously, no. We aren’t going to keep the baby. Raise it here in the TARDIS. That would be impossible.”
“We’re not going to keep…? What the hell does that mean?”
“We can’t keep it with us. I thought you understood that from our earlier…but, of course, you didn’t,” he sighed. “Alright, then…it’s like this: Time Lords don’t have children. I mean, obviously, we have children. We reproduce. Or we did at one time, before everything stopped working. But we never kept our children onboard a TARDIS. It’s not safe. There’s background radiation. I’ve mentioned the radiation. Perfectly harmless to an adult organism but catastrophic for a developing one. And then there’s the dangers…as you mentioned…”
“You knew that and you just…let this happen?” Rose’s hand dropped to her belly in an unconsciously protective gesture. “What are we going to do?”
“Send her somewhere safe. Back in the day, before the war, we would have sent her to the Looms. A sort of crèche. That’s were I was raised. By Penelope and the other nurses. But since the Looms are no more…I was thinking we could send little Etta to Sarah Jane.”
“Sarah Jane…? Smith?”
“Is there any other?” the Doctor asked, rhetorically. “She’ll make a wonderful mother, don’t you think? Provide a good home. Stable environment. Excellent income. Lots of affection. What more could you ask for? We can pop in for a visit any time. And a child will give her a bit of company in her old age. She confided in me that there’s small chance she’ll have one of her own. Works out perfectly all around.”
“Except I’m not leaving my baby to grow up with a complete stranger,” Rose growled.
The Doctor was already setting coordinates but her adamancy gave him pause. “Not a stranger,” he said, “Sarah Jane.” Seeing the flash of maternal zeal in Rose’s eyes, he hastily added in a very small voice, “You know Sarah Jane. She’s…almost family.”
“You know who else is almost family? You and I. You’d abandon your own child. Do you have any idea what it’s like growing up without a father? Because I do.”
“But she’ll have a father…parents. Know them…us. We’ll visit. Constantly. Christmas and every birthday and when she’s old enough to travel with us safely…”
“We’ll steal her away from Sarah Jane? It is just like Peter Pan. My mum had it exactly right. She’s your Wendy. And oh, god, my mum,” Rose groaned, suddenly seeing her mother’s reaction in her mind’s eye. “I show up pregnant with an alien baby she’s gonna go mental.”
The Doctor grimaced and scratched an ear. “Well. See. I thought of that and not to take anything away from Jackie but…”
“But…? But…what? Don’t you say anything against my mother. She did okay raising me. Better than your precious Sarah Jane would, I’d wager. And how do you know Miss Sarah Jane Smith even wants a baby?” His startled, somewhat guilty, expression was all the answer she needed. “You don’t, do you? No, you’re just merrily playing God with everyone’s life today. Omega’s got nothing on you. Might as well carry us off by force when you feel free to dump us anywhere you please. Stick us with unwanted, unexpected babies.” She stalked toward the TARDIS interior but paused to cast one final comment over her shoulder. “And we’re not calling her Etta.”
Numb as a man battered by the surf, the Doctor gripped the edge of the console and stared after her for very long time before quietly suggesting, “Margo, maybe? Perhaps.” He placed a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles bunching there. Then, lifting one brow, added, “Or else…Eloise.”
END THIS PART
PART SEVEN
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-01 11:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 12:28 am (UTC)And in this chapter in particular, I love how there's suddenly friction, with the Doctor not necessarily thinking through the consequences and Rose flipping out. Very, very nicely done.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 02:19 am (UTC)Thank you for the review...I think I have seen you around before...but if I haven't...it's nice to have you here. Appreciate the appreciation of the friction.
Rae
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 12:55 am (UTC)I'm not sure who I'm more surprised with: the Doctor for his total lack of consideration towards Rose, or Rose, for her extreme reaction to the news. Actually, I think I wanted to slap both of them for being so damn stupid and stubborn.
Gah, I hope the next chapter doesn't take too long, as this is one nasty cliff hanger. I'm not sure I can wait several weeks to learn how Rose and the Doctor will resolve this problem.
Aww...yes, they were both being rather stupid...
Date: 2006-08-02 02:23 am (UTC)They, after all, do usually tolerate his odd behavior with good humor.
Thanks for the feedback...glad the chapter struck a balanced cord with you...I didn't want either of them coming across as the bad guy in this.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 12:59 am (UTC)She is joined to him in a deeper way...
Date: 2006-08-02 02:32 am (UTC)Thank you for the feedback and questions.
Rae
Re: She is joined to him in a deeper way...
From:Curious minds will have to wait and see
From:Re: Curious minds will have to wait and see
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:00 am (UTC)EVEN ASIDE FROM THE SMUTTY HOT HOTNESS, THIS IS FABULOUS. SUCH GOOD DIALOG, SUCH NICELY WORKED IN PROBLEMS AND THEIR REACTIONS. *PAUSES TO MOUTH-BREATHE*
Man, the Doctor spent all that time hanging around humans and like he so often does, he slighly missed the inside angle. I'll bet between saving the world from alien invasions and running around with companions, he managed to completely avoid any and all mention of teen pregnancy and starving teenaged mothers and abortions and birth control--I mean, so far out of his sphere. And Rose, dude, I love how you wrote her--flinging good banter around even while shocked to the core. And oh, man, I'm going to have such a good time coming along with you as the rest of the implications set in...like birth. Or how long the gestation period is. I can see how there could be some thick angst coming, so I'm bracing for it just in case, (even if that hasn't been the tone of the story so far), with Rose possibly leaving to raise the child because hullo--crap. I wonder how long Gallifreyans take to reach puberty.
*brain explodes*
Two thumbs up, I might be in love with you, and please step on the next chapter before I start exhibiting withdraw symtoms. *twitch*
I, honestly, doubt the Doctor ever brooched the subject
Date: 2006-08-02 02:28 am (UTC)Thanks for the two thumbs up. That would be all of your thumbs (I assume ;-> ). And the next chapter will hopefully be coming around soon. I'm back on a roll here.
Rae
YIPPEE
Date: 2006-08-02 01:21 am (UTC)Its very good.
The Doctor knocked up ROSE!!
OOPS
Love
please continue
ttfn
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:38 am (UTC)This is one very clear sign of how Rose and the Doctor come from very different species. He's being very flippant about the decision to have children. Whereas, Rose is definitely freaking out, just like how any other human girl would.
Sure, the Doctor got all chatty about convergence with Rose, but he didn't really explain it well enough to her. I know the difference in species is bound to create some confusion about context, but I dunno... He's been travelling with humans for a very large chunk of his life. You'd think by now he'd have a better idea of what pregnancy means to a human. I just think he should have known to drop the detail about children on Rose beforehand. Dunno if he truly was confused or whether he was just plain distracted by the sex to think too hard. But, he definitely had an advantage over Rose, what with him understanding the sexual practices of both species more than she did.
Whatever is the case, this is definitely a prime example of consequences resulting from ignorance about sex. Also, we've got some culture clash happening here.
I can't wait to read the next part. Rose definitely won't allow this kid to be raised without her parents. And, she's not one to drop the child on someone else either. Her experiences being raise by only her mom taught her better. So, I'm fairly certain that she's going to stand strong here if she decides to keep the child. (I'm assuming that the issue of abortion will be mentioned in the next chapter. Though, I don't think she's one to go through with it. Knowing that her mom was her age when she had Rose is definitely going to affect her decision here.)
As for the Doctor. I don't know what he's going to do. Will he attach himself to an earthling lifestyle for the next few years, until the child is old enough to travel on the TARDIS? Whatever he chooses, I do think this decision here will determine Rose's future opinion of him. Becuase this is an interspecies couple, both sides do have to give a bit if they expect this relationship to work. One side can't make all the sacrifices.
I can't wait for the next chapter.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:Ah...but I did...
From:Re: Ah...but I did...
From:About the morning after pill...
From:Re: About the morning after pill...
From:Ah....but is it more his choice...
From:Re: Ah....but is it more his choice...
From:Re: Ah....but is it more his choice...
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:38 am (UTC)Deciding to drop the kid with Sarah Jane is SO Doctor. idiot.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 01:44 am (UTC)Though, I can imagine Jackie finding joy in having a granddaughter to babysit while Rose and the Doctor travel.
Well...to be fair...
From:Re: Well...to be fair...
From:Yeah...that was pretty stupid of him...
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 02:39 am (UTC)I was wondering after reading the last chapter what exactly the Doctor meant by, "It should be safe." I had a feeling that perhaps he was being a bit more literal than Rose was.
Oh, I just can't wait to see where this story goes next!
There ya' go...yes...he meant...SAFE
Date: 2006-08-02 02:57 am (UTC)Beyond that he knew about her patch and he didn't really know if he would be having an orgasm...let alone converging...but just in case...he asked her if she was okay with it...the joining together. Granted...he should have taken a moment more to stress that he meant she could get pregnant...but he HAD already mentioned that human women DID get pregnant from Omega. Rose should have mentioned at that point that she didn't want children.
The main difference between Omega and the Doctor will be explained in the next chapter. As to why the Doctor wasn't sure what would happen even though he seemed to be able to reproduce...it is all tied into true union. Which is much more serious than Rose understands at this point.
Anyway, thanks for the feedback. Glad you enjoyed the chapter...even with 85% less sex.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:04 am (UTC)Awesome story and I cannot WAIT for the next part!
I do love your icon
Date: 2006-08-02 08:54 pm (UTC)Thank you for the lovely feedback. I'm very happy to see you enjoyed the chapter.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:14 am (UTC)I'm highly amused by the great determination of our favorite Time Lord's little swimmers, to blunder through the small Earth defences of Rose's birth control patch.
Good chapter. Hee. Looking forward to Jackie's reaction.
Yeah...the TARDIS was very pleased...
Date: 2006-08-02 04:02 am (UTC)Glad you liked the chapter.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:14 am (UTC)Yes...there you go...completely different views...
Date: 2006-08-02 03:58 am (UTC)Glad you are still enjoying the ride. Pets our icon.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:27 am (UTC)Very curious as to how you will handle this.
Technically, I haven't committed baby-fic...yet...
Date: 2006-08-02 03:44 am (UTC)I can see him getting kicked out of the delivery room even now.
Rae
Re: Technically, I haven't committed baby-fic...yet...
From:Still in the delivery room
From:Lamaze for Dummies
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:36 am (UTC)Regardless of my opinion regarding the plot, the characterization in this is ridiculously good. The names he chooses, for starters, and just the whole way he approaches the subject. Poor silly Doctor. And poor silly Rose. And poor not-Etta, with her silly parents. The Doctor could've spelled it out a little bit better, honestly.
But yeah, when I saw this on my flist I definitely went "Yessssss!" out loud. And then I was all 'Wait... who said that?' XD I will be waiting for the next part, obviously... and good luck with the repairs from the evil flood of evil doom!
I'm with the Doctor on this one...
Date: 2006-08-02 03:54 am (UTC)One of the Doctor's main concerns about settling down hasn't been explored, yet. Being the last of the Time Lords places this huge target on his back...it literally isn't safe to be hanging around in one place...look at what happened to Rose's neighborhood just with him visiting all the time.
Thank you so much for the compliment on my characterization. I do love writing Ten and Rose...and it is very hard to make them fight...they are more loving than most couples.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 03:40 am (UTC)Finally...someone I can completely support...
Date: 2006-08-02 03:47 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed the chapter.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 04:21 am (UTC)Flummoxed and intoxicated
Date: 2006-08-02 07:06 am (UTC)But yes...nobody has done this in millenia...had the baby right there for them to decide things about...and it is delightful. He just should have considered Rose's heritage a bit longer and explained it all a bit more. But chances are...Rose would have refused to go through with the whole Intercourse project...so in a way...NOT explaining...was very self-serving for the Doctor. But to be fair...he honestly didn't know he would get her pregnant...he just knew the possiblity existed because of Omega.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 04:37 am (UTC)I'm so very glad you love it
Date: 2006-08-02 06:45 am (UTC)Rae
Re: I'm so very glad you love it
From:(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 04:53 am (UTC)Goofy Time Lords.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-03 03:27 am (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 06:04 am (UTC)Ah...yes...well...I can see how it might be great fun
Date: 2006-08-02 06:57 am (UTC)Beyond that...as the Doctor senses...she has the Time Lord soul...and so isn't constitutionally suited to the domestic life. Rose was born to wander the stars. The real problem here is that her humanity won't allow her to put her wanderlust ahead of her maternal instincts. Unlike the Doctor she doesn't have the sense of duty to the universe to guide her...instead she has a more personal sense of duty...to her child.
I'm so happy that you continue to love the story...I was concerned for the shift away from alien sex to more substance...gratifying to see so many people take the shift in stride.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 11:05 am (UTC)The story was really good as are all the others! :D
Alyssa xXxXx
Glad you enjoyed the unexpected expecting
Date: 2006-08-02 08:56 pm (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 11:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 12:49 pm (UTC)Cultures clashing is about it...
Date: 2006-08-02 09:00 pm (UTC)Thank you for your happy dance. And your love of the more serious tone...it can't all be splashy alien sex...sooner or later you have to make the bed.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-02 12:51 pm (UTC)More really good stuff. And very unexpected plot developments. You're bringing out the culture clash between Ten and Rose beautifully, and in such an in-character way. A lot of us have aversions to babyfics, but I'm perfectly happy to trust you with where this is going.
Can;t wait for more!!!