1. Theodora of Prydon was Princess Rose’s absolute best friend when they were children. Nigh on inseparable they were. Where one went, the other followed, and they got into a fair number of scrapes but everyone at the palace loved the pair of girls.
2. As they grew older, Theo became Rose’s protector. She trained, becoming as skilled as the knights even though they wouldn’t grant her the title. Still, they seemed to be attached at the hip even though privately, Rose worried about all the little ways her friend seemed to be pulling away from her.
3. Rose was eighteen and Theo was twenty when it came out that there was a possibility Rose would have to enter into a political marriage to prevent a war.
4. In public, neither of them said anything. In private, Rose raged and then cried and then felt some form of grief start building that she didn’t quite understand. Theo didn’t say much but she held her while she cried and pressed her lips gently to her friend’s forehead, trying to give comfort in this impossible situation, even as her own heart was breaking.
5. War came before any final decisions could be made.
6. Battles were fought with swords and magic alike. Before enemy forces reached the castle, a mighty spell was cast, encasing the castle in a bubble of frozen time.
7. Theo was away from the castle when she heard the news, having reluctantly gone on a secret mission for the Queen. She hunted down the mage who cast the spell and learned it had been focused on the princess, on Rose.
8. Only her true love, the mage said, would be able to break the spell. Anyone else who tried would be caught in the time lock.
9. It seemed like a stupid spell to Theo but she set off towards the castle at full speed. She was no mage and she wasn’t going to waste time trying to find a way to disable the spell when she’d already heard whispers of the impossibility of such a task. No, she was going to walk in the castle and see if she could break the spell the way it was meant to be broken.
10. She’d been in love with the princess since she knew what love was. Probably before that even. If she wasn’t Rose’s true love, according to the spell, she’d rather be trapped in the time lock with Rose than live her life on the outside waiting.
11. She let herself into the castle and every hair on her body stood on end at the silence in the structure. It was uncanny in a place that was always bustling. Theo made her way to Rose’s chambers, a path she’d walked so many times before but never with such nerves.
12. Rose was laying on her bed, dressed in her favorite pink dress, hair an absolute mess. Theo smiled softly and stepped closer. She knew how these things usually worked so she leaned down and gently pressed her lips to Rose’s, wishing that she were kissing her for the first time under very different circumstances.
13. Rose’s eyes flew open and the time lock shattered around them, letting the hubbub of the castle start back up again but neither of them noticed since they were both quite preoccupied with the way Rose threaded her fingers into Theo’s short, dark hair and pulled her closer for kiss after kiss after kiss.
14. The enemy army fled when the time lock broke, fearing that there was a strong mage around who had broken the enchantment. War was over, as was any talk of a political marriage.
#10 for fem!Nine/Rose pretty please!! I love everything you write, btw. You're a fanfic master!
asdl;kfjsdfo;aijer;elsrjaowirj; you slay me with kindness. Thank you so much!!!
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
***
They’re perfectly normal lips, as far as the Doctorcan tell; plumper than many, perhaps, maybe a little pinker, certainly moredistracting. Absolutely normal, gorgeous, regular, luscious, run-of-the millhuman lips. But what the Doctor can’t figure out is why she keeps feeling sodrawn to them, like Rose has her own special kind of gravity, as if Rose’smouth is a magnet for hers.
Rose raises an eyebrow in concern. “What’s wrong? HaveI got something on my face?”
No,but my face could change that is what the Doctorthinks. “Sorry, just lost in the clouds for a mo,” is what she says. “Regulardaydreamer, me.”
Rose flashes her that smile, yes, that one, the one with her tongue trapped between her teeth; itdoes nothing to lessen the Doctor’s distraction. “Thought Time Ladies were toohigh and mighty for silly things like daydreaming,” she teases. “What’s runningthrough that head of yours?”
You,just you. “Oh, nothing in particular,” the Doctor replies,tearing her gaze away and forcing herself to focus on the screen in front ofher. That’s what they’re here for, after all; that’s why they’re doing this,why she’s doing this. The TARDISisn’t going to repair herself, or at least she’s not very likely to.
The Doctor bangs the side of the screen impatiently.Its readings remain stubbornly unchanged; no surprise, since the Doctor hasn’tactually managed to do anything productive, despite her best efforts. But howcan she help it that Rose Tyler is so ridiculously distracting—how is shesupposed to think about anything else besides kissing her?
“This was a mistake,” the Doctor announces, pushingback from the console desk. “I should have known better, should have known thatbottle was full of nothing but panaceæ and snake oil. I can’trecalibrate the temporal conduits like this. The work is too delicate. I needto be able to focus on it, just really focus.We’re just gonna have to wait, is all.”
“Wait? You?” Rose laughs. “You’re gonna go mad!”
“Too late,” says the Doctor, scrubbing one hand overher face.
Plucking up the medicinal vial from where the Doctorunceremoniously dumped it in the jumpseat, Rose turns it over in her hands,searching the label. “Maybe it hasn’t kicked in yet?”
“Oh, it’s kicked in,” the Doctor says darkly.
“Okay, well, that’s good, isn’t it? We just need toget you focused on the right thing. Shove that big ol’ impressive brain ofyours into action!”
Rose heaves herself onto the jumpseat, her feetswinging over the grating. “So, how does it usually work, this hyperfocusthing?” she asks.
The Doctor doesn’t answer; she’s too busy staring atRose’s mouth again, at the perfect sweetheart shape of it, the lips that lookso, so soft, the way they purse expectantly after Rose asks a question, the waythey’re pressing together right now.
Uh oh. Rose just asked a question. The Doctor has noidea what it might have been.
“Erm,” she says.
Rose frowns. “Are you all right?”
The Doctor glances up at Rose’s eyes.
That’s a mistake. They’re every bit as entrancing asher lips.
She gulps.
“Doctor?” Rose asks, her brow furrowed in worry.Slipping off the jumpseat, she takes a cautious step the Doctor’s way, reachingone hand out to her shoulder. “Should I get you to the medbay—?”
“No!” the Doctor shouts as she springs back, makingRose jump. “I’m fine, Rose. Really! Don’t worry about daft old me.”
“Yeah, but you really seem off,” Rose argues.
“Do I?” the Doctor asks; when her eyes slide down toRose’s lips again, she slaps herself in the face. “I feel fine to me!” shesays, wincing only a little bit.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Rose demands.
“Nothing. No reason. It’s just side effects of thedrug, that’s all.”
“But you said there weren’t any side effects—”
“Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I?” the Doctor snaps.
Eyes widening, Rose plants her hands on her hips.“Funny, I didn’t see anything on the label about a side effect of being mean.”
“Yes, well, the manufacturers of this particularpharmaceutical likely never had to deal with anyone as bloody damn distractingas you,” the Doctor shoots back.
She watches as coolness settles over Rose’s face,hiding her feelings like a mask. Guilt instantly starts roiling in her guts.
“Fine,” says Rose, her voice clipped. “I guess I’lljust leave you to your delicate work,then. God knows I would hate to distractyou any further.”
Turning on her heel, Rose flounces away, disappearingdown one of the TARDIS’s many corridors. The moment she’s out of sight, theDoctor heaves a frustrated sigh.
Amake-up kiss would solve things nicely says a hopeful littlevoice in her head.
The Doctor answers that with another slap.
***
When Rose doesn’t answer her knocks at the door, theDoctor pushes it open to find her sitting on her bed, arms crossed, eyesglaring, lips turned down in a pout.
(Bet I couldkiss that pout away, the Doctor thinks, and her toes curl in her boots.)
“Well?” demands Rose. “Are you done?”
“Like I said, can’t fix it right now,” the Doctorreplies. “My brain’s gone…elsewhere. We’re stuck for a bit until the drug wearsoff. I can’t give the conduits the attention they need.”
“Why? Am I so distracting that I’m bothering you evenway back here?”
Yes,is what the Doctor thinks. A second later, she’s surprised to register thatit’s exactly what she said, too.
This time, Rose doesn’t bother to hide the hurt thatflits across her face. The Doctor half-expects another barb to be flung herway—it’s no less than what she deserves—so she’s surprised when Rose draws herknees up to her chest, like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.
“I’m sorry,” Rose mumbles. “I’ll try to do better.”
Something seizes uncomfortably in the Doctor’s chest,creeps up to strangle her throat. The urge to reach out to Rose, to soothe herbruised feelings, battles mightily with her instincts to take advantage of thisway out. They’ve wrapped the topic up in a nice little bundle, brought thecircle to completion, and tomorrow, things will go back to normal, the way theyalways are—walls thick and strong and solidly back in place. No more thingsalmost-done or words almost-spoken or lips almost-kissed.
Theway it always is, the Doctor tells herself with an inwardsigh. The way it has to be.
Those walls are in place for a reason.
She turns to leave, to give Rose a little space andtake some time to clear her head, purge this gods-forsaken drug out of hersystem, but she finds she can’t move any further. Her feet don’t want to takeher out of Rose’s bedroom, don’t want to leave their spots on the floor.Strangely, the rest of her body doesn’t seem to, either.
The Doctor tuts impatiently. “Not your fault,” shesays, her voice gruff. (That’ll work, right? Maybe that will be good enough tosmooth things over without admitting…other things.)
Rose shrugs. “It’s okay, Doctor. I was asking too manyquestions.”
“No such thing, Rose Tyler,” says the Doctor with agrin. Rose responds with a small smile of her own and that’s no good, that’s nogood at all, because the movement draws the Doctor’s gaze down to her lips onceagain—it’s just the movement, just the motion of them, she swears.
Doesn’texplain why you were thinking of kissing her before you took that drug, her brain sayshelpfully; the Doctor tells her brain, in no uncertain terms, exactly how manyways it can sod itself.
“Doctor?” Rose asks cautiously, and the Doctor hatesthat she’s the reason for the hesitation in her voice. “Are you okay, though?Really?”
“Really,” the Doctor says with a curt nod. “Nothing alittle downtime won’t fix.”
Wordlessly, Rose scoots over on her bed, making roomfor the Doctor. When the Doctor doesn’t move, too transfixed by the sight ofRose, in a bed, creating space for her in that very same bed, Rose pats themattress next to her. Discomfited, the Doctor opens her mouth to generate someexcuse or another, but at the hopeful look in Rose’s eyes, she quickly cavesin.
Just when did she allow herself to become so easilywrapped around Rose’s finger? (More importantly, why doesn’t she mind?)
The Doctor sits stiffly on the edge of Rose’s bed, herleather jacket squeaking with every movement. She doesn’t crawl into the bednext to Rose, but she does at least angle her body toward her—seems like itwould be weird, otherwise.
“So,” says Rose, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Thedrug was a bust? You couldn’t focus on anything after all?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” the Doctor grunts.
“But if you couldn’t focus on the conduit thing, whatdid you end up thinking about?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Rose nods, draws her knees closer to her chest.“Sorry, I’m being nosy again.”
“Can’t really be nosy when it’s got to do with you.”
Rose’s eyes widen, and only then does the Doctor realizewhat she said.
Damn. Doublebloody damn.
“I mean,” she starts to say, but what exactly shemeans, her tongue fails to elaborate. “It’s just—see, the thing is—you werejust—”
Oh, she should go. She really, really should. Shouldhave left a long time ago. Probably shouldn’t even have come in here. Probablynever should have ever returned to Earth in the first place, probably shouldhave avoided the Milky Way altogether—
“A distraction,” Rose supplies, but she doesn’t lookupset this time. Instead, she looks…thoughtful. Like she’s figuring somethingout.
Double bloody damn, indeed.
A slow, knowing smile creeps over Rose’s face. “Sowhen you took that drug,” she says, her eyes lighting up with the promise ofmischief, “you weren’t thinking about the conduits at all.”
The Doctor shakes her head. “No.”
“You were thinking about me?” Rose asks, as if she canhardly believe it.
Clearing her throat, the Doctor adjusts her jacket, justfor the sake of giving her hands something to do. “We travel together,” shesays, looking around the room at anything but Rose. “S’only natural you’d crossmy mind every once in a while.”
“Why were you thinking about me?”
The Doctor frowns. “Reasons.”
“What were you thinking, specifically?”
Now the Doctor glares at her properly, but Rose doesn’tseem even remotely deterred. In fact, if anything, she seems even moreinterested. Positively intrigued.
“You’ve got a lot of questions, haven’t you?” shemutters. “Too many questions.”
Rose’s grin widens. “No such thing—right?”
The Doctor scowls. Grinning ear-to-ear, Rose scoots backover on the bed, until she and the Doctor sit only inches apart, nearlytouching.
“Doctor,” Rose says, her voice teasing, “What were youthinking about me?”
She knows she should answer—a lie would dobeautifully; yes, a lie is just the ticket, the perfect reset button, anexcellent method of restoring the status quo, and one sits perched on the tipof her tongue just now, just waiting—but her gaze flickers down to Rose’s lipsonce again—perfect and plump and so, so close, certainly close enough for akiss; she’s fairly certain she remembers how, even if it has been a century ortwo—and maybe Rose hasn’t just got her own gravity, she’s got her ownchronology, too, because time certainly seems to be slowing, crawling by atsuch a glacial pace that the Doctor can make out each and every nanometer ofblush that blooms across Rose’s cheeks—
Before she knows it, the Doctor has swallowed the lie.
“Huh,” says Rose softly, with the air of someone whojust figured out something very important, and panic seizes the Doctor’sthroat. Time to bail, she thinks; it’s too late to quit while she’s ahead (shefell behind a long, long time ago, practically the second one Rose Tyler setfoot on this ship) but surely it’s not too late to cut at least some of her losses. If nothing else,maybe she can salvage a shred of her dignity. She would settle for twenty,maybe fifteen percent of her dignity.
But Rose moves just a little closer still, her eyestraveling over the Doctor’s face, landing on her lips, and the Doctor suddenlyforgets what dignity even is.
(Of course she knows that Rose has feelings for her;the Doctor isn’t that daft. She’s goteyes and ears, hasn’t she? But somehow she never let herself think—or hope—thatRose might have feelings for her.)
There are a thousand reasons why the Doctor shouldn’tdo this, but all of those reasons flutter out of her head the second Rosebridges the distance between them and gently presses her lips to the Doctor’s.
Instinctively, the Doctor stiffens, every muscle inher body going as rigid as a block of concrete. But her eyes still shutterclosed, her hands fist in the bedclothes, her hearts hammer painfully againstthe walls of her ribcage. Rose is so soft, so wonderfully warm, all pressed upagainst her shoulder as she tilts her head for a better angle. And her lips—well,the Doctor doesn’t like to wax poetical (she much prefers prose, she does), buther lips are the stuff dreams are made of, all tender and sweet and silky-smoothand just the littlest bit wet when they part at the end. The Doctor doesn’tbelieve in heaven, but if she did, she would believe it felt like this.
Rose pulls back with her eyes closed and cheeks pink.Gaze cast shyly downward, she asks in a quiet voice, “Was that okay?”
Playing for time, the Doctor licks her lips. (Horriblyineffective strategy, because she tastes Rose there, and that just makes herwant more.)
“I mean, for the hyperfocus thing,” Rose sayscarefully. “Like, did it help with that?”
Rose is giving her another out, the Doctor realizes.She can play this all off as drug-addled nonsense, if she so chooses. It’sanother chance to go back to normal, to pretend nothing ever happened, toreturn to life as she knew it before—a little sad at times, perhaps, isolatedand alone behind her walls, but safe. Resolutely, blessedly safe.
The Doctor’s eyes stray back down to Rose’s lips. Thisis it. Take that lifeline. Take thatchance—
She tilts Rose’s chin upward and presses a kiss to hermouth; it’s short and firm but it’s sweet and it leaves absolutely no room fordoubt.
“Oh, Rose Tyler,” she murmurs when they part, herthumb stroking Rose’s jawline. “Not even a little bit.”
Rose’s lips curl up in a smile; it might be one of themost beautiful things the Doctor has ever seen.
1. They don’t realize that their hosts think they’re married until they are led to a room for the night that is very obviously this culture’s equivalent of a honeymoon suite. They are in too deep though and can’t correct the assumption without being arrested for impropriety.
2. Rose slips an arm around the Doctor’s waist, under her leather jacket and just snuggled in close, completely willing to play along with this charade for the chance to be as close to the Doctor as she wanted to be all the time.
3. (The Doctor has to supress a shiver when Rose’s fingers slip just under the hem of her jumper where it meets her trousers. This is all just pretend and she’s going to have to keep telling herself that. It’s not real, it’s not real, Rose isn’t really hers.)
4. (It’s so hard to remember it’s not real when Rose looks at her like that, so hard not to lean down and kiss her. Maybe she could since their hosts think they’re married and wouldn’t it be weird if the married couple didn’t kiss occasionally?)
5. (She’s still thinking about it as they pick sides of the not-overly-large bed that they’re sharing for the night. They no longer have an audience but Rose is still looking at her like she wants her and she still wants to kiss her.)
6. (She gives in when the morning light slants across their bed and Rose looks at her, heart in her sleepy eyes, and rasped out a good morning that the Doctor kissed off her lips.)
“Can’t sleep?” The Doctor asked, looking up at her companion who had just appeared in the library doorway in the middle of the night cycle.
Rose shrugged noncommittally and scuffed one bare foot across the floor, not making eye contact. She was in a vest top and flannel sleep trousers but it didn’t look like she’d actually made it to bed at any point.
The Doctor knew what Rose looked like after sleep, knew the way her hair was always a mess and the way her eyes were always a bit hazy. Right now, Rose was still mostly bright eyed and her hair was still as tidy as it ever was.
She closed her finger in the book to mark her place. “Come on over here, then. No better company than a fellow insomniac.”
Rose smiled at that and came over to curl up on the opposite end of the sofa.
“What are you reading?”
She showed her the cover. “Nothing like a bit of Austen by the fire to while a night away.”
Rose moved closer to look at it. “I’ve seen the film but I’ve never read it.”
“I am appalled, Rose Tyler. You’ve never read Pride and Prejudice? Really?”
“Really. Film just came out though and it’s got Keira Knightley in it so I saw that. Seen the bit of the miniseries with Colin Firth in a wet shirt too.”
“I see you have your priorities right,” the Doctor said drily.
“Yup!”
Rose scooted closer still, cuddling into the Doctor’s side. “Is it good?”
“It’s a classic!”
“S’not what I asked.”
“Yes, it’s good.” Not as good as having Rose Tyler curled against her in the middle of the night without the barrier of her leather jacket in the way, but she wasn’t going to mention that. Irrelevant, it was.”
“Read to me?”
“Need a bedtime story?” she teased gently.
Rose pulled back and bit down on her bottom lip. Just when the Doctor started to really panic that she accidentally offended her, she spoke.
“Actually, I just miss you,” Rose confessed. She took a deep breath and rushed ahead before the Doctor could figure out how to make words through her shock. “S’just, I feel like I haven’t seen much of you since Jack came aboard and I miss… this. Just having time to ourselves sometimes.”
“Well, we’ve got time now. I’ve always got time for you,” she admitted.
The Doctor didn’t know what else to say and Rose was staying silent as well, so she just tugged her back towards her and flipped to the beginning of the book and started to read.
Rose snuggled impossibly closer, sliding her fingers into the Doctor’s soft, short hair.
“Mmm, if you keep doing that we’re not going to get any sleep,” the Doctor muttered. They were close enough that her words vibrated through Rose.
“You’re half asleep already,” Rose teased, continuing to card her fingers through her hair. “Plus, you’re always the one on about how I sleep half my life away.”
The Doctor pressed her face into Rose’s neck and nipped at her. “I will get you back for this,” she promised, lips moving against skin.
Rose’s hand came down with a crack against the smooth skin of the Doctor’s arse. She smoothed her hand across the red handprint, relishing the sting in her hand.
“Good?” she asked.
“Harder,” the Doctor rasped out, accent thicker than normal. “Please.”
Rose grinned and brought her hand down again, harder this time. She didn’t give the Doctor time to recover before doing it again and again. The Doctor let out a ragged moan, burying her face in the duvet.
“You turn such a pretty color of pink,” Rose said as she danced fingers across the marks she’d made. “My favorite color, really.”
The Doctor just pressed her hips down into Rose’s lap, silently encouraging her to continue.
Her fingers slipped down between the Doctor’s thighs and found her soaking wet. She slid two fingers inside her tight channel and crooked them just right to coax another moan from her normally quiet lover.
“Oh, that’s so good, Doctor,” Rose said, pumping her fingers a few times. “I could bring you off just like this.”
“Please, Rose.”
Rose removed her fingers and quickly sucked the Doctor’s juices off them before answering. “Not yet. Not until you’re really ready to beg.”
She brought her hand down on the Doctor’s arse again, administering a quick fusillade of slaps. Rose knew the Doctor would feel it for at least a few hours, even with her quick healing.
Rose shifted, need throbbing between her own thighs. “Doctor?”
“I’m good. Please just…” she trailed off with a needy noise as Rose tangled the fingers of one hand in her short hair and tugged softly.
“Please what?”
“Please just let me come,” she answered, need clear in her voice.
Rose thrust her fingers back into the Doctor’s cunt and pumped quickly. “Are you close?”
The Doctor nodded and Rose shifted her attention to the Doctor’s clit, rubbing hard circles. “Come on, Doctor. Come for me.”
The Time Lady drew in a breath and went completely still, shattering just as Rose got a finger inside of her again. Rose worked her down and then flopped back against the headboard of their bed, absently rubbing a hand over the Doctor’s pink arse, willing herself to wait to see how the Doctor would repay the favor and quench the fire still running through her veins.
