Rating: This part is smutty!!! Others are not. So, altogether, I'd say it's an R. Also a wee bit of mild swearing.
Summary: We've completely hit AU now, although the earlier chapters are subtext and what happens between the episodes in Season Two, although Season One is also game.
Spoilers: S1 and S2, all the way through "Doomsday". If you read this before you've seen seasons one and two, I might have to hurt you. Don't spoil it!
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. Couldn't dream of it. Would love it to be, but I'm poor! But Amarinda is mine. And that makes me immensely happy. (If anyone wants to buy me David Tennant clone for Christmas, I wouldn't cry.)
Author's note: Still working on my first fic of Who-dom. I may drop the canon thing so don't kill me. I'm a slut for comments. Please do. No seriously, criticism of the positive kind helps me become better. Big thanks to all who read, but most especially to Victoria steerpikesister (Fangirls, unite and take over!) who pimps this fic without shame and pokes me to write. <3 Also thank you, auntiesuze and wiccagal_1996 for betaing help. Links to previous chapters are under the cut. Enjoy!
Grace - Chapter One Warning: Contains smut!
Shake Dog Shake - Chapter Two
Torn - Chapter Three
Safe With Me - Chapter Four Warning: Contains smut!
Wherever You Will Go - Chapter Five Warning: Contains smut!
Hot One - Chapter Six Warning: Contains smut!
Seventeen Seconds - Chapter Seven
The Last Beat Of My Heart - Chapter Eight
Chasing Cars - Chapter Nine
No Place That Far - Chapter Ten Warning: Contains smut!
Maybe I'm Amazed - Chapter Eleven Warning: Contains smut!
California Stars - Chapter Twelve Warning: Contains smut!
The Doctor and Rose spent several days in the Time Vortex, lazily whiling the hours away together, reconnecting and relearning each other’s bodies. He lay beside her on their bed one day - or night, one never could tell - entwined in her limbs, pulling her long hair to wrap around his throat in a satin caress. ‘I’ve never seen you wear your hair this long,’ he observed, kissing a golden tress.
‘It grew really fast when I was pregnant,’ she answered. ‘And I just kept it long. No time to cut it really, and it’s healthy, so I left it.’
He combed his fingers carefully through the strands, gently teasing the tangles out, cautiously trying not to pull too hard. ‘I hadn’t really noticed that it was so long, you always wear it up.’
‘Amarinda’s quick and she can pull really hard,’ she explained, and he winced sympathetically. ‘But sometimes it’s a bother. I was going to cut it off, but if you like it…’
‘I like it,’ he said, holding the ends like a brush and intently painting patterns over his face.
He turned his head a little to watch her profile as she smiled. ‘The last time you saw me before…’ She trailed off, choking back tears in remembrance of their traumatic parting. ‘It had a while to grow before you came back.’
‘How long was it for you, Rose? A year?’ He whispered, remembering the long, lonesome period he spent without her.
‘Over a year,’ she said. ‘But it felt like forever.’
He nodded, tickling her hair under his nose, inhaling. ‘It was over ten for me.’
She shifted, and turned to stare at him, surprised. ‘Ten years?’ She asked, incredulous. ‘What did you do? What was it like?’
‘It was lonely,’ he said, unashamed to admit how much he had missed her. ‘I mean, I got on with it, and, and I did have companions, but there was never anyone else. I even stopped wearing my brown suit for a while, switched to blue.’ He smiled when her nose wrinkled.
‘Blue? Really? I can’t imagine it suited you. The brown brings out your eyes better,’ she said, feeling silly for worrying about what he wore.
‘I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror,’ he said sadly. ‘That suit reminded me too much of you and how I chose it on Christmas Day. I knew it looked good. I was trying to impress you. I wanted to win you back.’
Her eyes narrowed a little in disbelief. ‘Win me back? Did you really think I wouldn’t stay with you? And not just because you have a magic machine, but because I loved you. You had to know, even then.’
‘She’s more than a magic machine! She’s the last TARDIS alive! Deftly changing the subject, he offered, ‘I could take you nearly everywhere I went while we were apart.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Nearly?’
His face turned thoughtful. ‘Well, I took one of my companions, Victoria, to this planet called Omega Twelve, in a cluster of stars, oh, about twenty light years away from Earth. I forgot that humans were considered a delicacy there. She nearly got eaten!’ He laughed. ‘You should have seen the look on her face!’
Rose watched as memories flitted across the Doctor’s features.
‘You would have liked her.’ She felt a chill as she wondered what had become of the girl. Almost as if he had plucked the question out of her head, he answered, ‘She fell in love with a later twenty-first century revolutionary, and left to go make Earth a better place.’ He smiled at the memories. ‘I rather think she succeeded, and found real happiness along the way,’ he added.
Rose cuddled closer and then shivered when his breath’s soft caress met her skin in a sigh. ‘You know,’ she whispered, steering the conversation back in its original direction, ‘I, ‘I wanted you from the beginning. That first trip to watch the Earth burn. And you went running off with that tree!’
He smiled against her skin. ‘I wanted you from the moment I met you, Rose, or I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me. Things did change when I regenerated, as it so often does, but my feelings just increased. And you thought I might not want you!’ He scoffed.
‘But I don’t know when I started loving you. Maybe it was when you threw a jealous fit because of Sarah Jane, or perhaps when you and Jack were dancing, or just maybe it was when you were covered in slime on Raxacoricofallipatorius, you looked repulsive!’ He laughed. ‘Early on, I think. But it just snuck up on me. I didn’t see it or really acknowledge it until... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in time.’
She grew thoughtful for a moment. ‘I should have told you earlier and all. It’s just…I didn’t want to scare you and wind up with you dropping me off and leaving for good.’
‘I would never have left you,’ he protested. ‘Enough talk.’ His voice was huskier and deeper; she shuddered in recognition of his tone. Her hair whispered across his skin in a golden embrace as she moved to kiss him. Her eyes met his and held as she drew closer to his lips, slowly closing as she came nearer. Her kiss was soft and sweet, and he breathed deeply, inhaling her essence, waiting patiently to deepen the light contact between her lips and his.
He gently pulled her on top of him, and she stretched out at length, putting every inch of her skin against his. She kissed him deeply, her tongue playing in his mouth, her lips softly massaging his, her hair a silk curtain around their faces. His hands slid softly up and down her sides and back, memorising the shape of her body, enjoying the softness of her skin.
‘I love you,’ he murmured against her mouth, sighing as she caught the words in her mouth and gave them back to him, a soft echo of sentiments long overdue, and returned. A tear fell on his face and he opened his eyes to see hers overflowing with emotion.
‘Are you alright?’ He asked, stroking her face. She nodded as he reached up to kiss her tears, too precious to simply be wiped away. ‘You are amazing, Rose…my beautiful Rose’ he whispered. She turned her head and kissed the hand softly resting against her cheek. He slid his hands to her hips and held her tightly against him for a moment and then gave her a tap. ‘Move for a moment,’ he said. ‘I want to hold you.’
She sat back and watched as he moved to sit back against the headboard, carefully stacking pillows behind him so he would be comfortable. She came to him and straddled his legs, pressing her chest against his and wrapping her arms around him. He held her so close he could feel her heart pounding, as he stroked the soft skin along her spine. She felt so delicate and vulnerable against him, he just wanted to wrap his arms and body around her and protect her forever. He closed his eyes, rested his chin gently on her shoulder and buried his nose in her silky, fragrant hair.
‘Barcelona tomorrow?’ She asked, quietly.
‘Barcelona tonight,’ he said. ‘If you want to.’
She pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. ‘Alright,’ she whispered. ‘In a minute.’
His hand slid up her back and into her hair, pulling it aside to brand her with open-mouthed kisses. Her throat vibrated as she moaned and he pressed his lips to her skin to enjoy the sensation. His hands skimmed over her body to find her breasts and gently caress them, then slid his mouth lower to lick and kiss.
‘So beautiful,’ he whispered. He pressed a firm hand against her lower back to arch her body into his mouth, and his hands. She complied with a shuddery sigh. He reached and caressed her face, sliding his hand over her chin, her neck, down between her breasts and stomach to rest between her legs, cupping her softly, smiling when she arched even more and pressed herself into his hand. ‘Silly human,’ he chided. ‘Always in such a hurry, controlled by your hormones…’
He never got to finish the thought because she captured his mouth in a searing, hungry kiss. Her passion soon turned his sweet affection to a carnal need and his hands shook as they moved over her body, trying to touch all of her, and bring her to him, lower her body to his.
‘Rose,’ he gasped. ‘Please…’
‘Who’s in a hurry now?’ She teased, only too happy to comply with his plea. ‘Open your eyes.’
‘Rose,’ he begged.
‘Open them,’ she commanded, and tensed, waiting until he obeyed.
‘Rose,’ he whispered, pleading with her.
‘Watch,’ she whispered, planting tiny kisses on his jaw line. He opened his eyes; they were glazed and soft with fervour. She held his gaze and slowly, so slow he felt as if he were being tortured, slid against him, putting him firmly inside her. She let him see the pleasure on her face and sighed loudly, tearing a moan from his throat.
Her eyes returned to his face to find him flushed, jaw clenched, eyes on fire. She met them and held, allowing their gaze to penetrate her mind, and nearly fell into them. So dark, so timeless and powerful, she felt the weight of his mind as it pushed against hers, and suddenly their pleasure was shared. She felt the bliss of both filling her and being filled by him, felt the friction of their movements. It was overwhelming her, pushing her harder and faster than anything else could have. He slid his hands between them to stroke and caress her and they both moaned loudly at the contact. He felt the sensation of her hot, wet flesh on his fingertips and the electric pulses of desire that filled her at each soft touch. He pulled his gaze away, but not his mind, and gripped her hip, pulling her sharply to him. His fingertips stroked and teased her. He heard a moan but he didn’t know if it was his or hers as he thrust up into her, pulling her down onto him. Her head fell back, and her hair tumbled over her shoulders and breasts, giving him a beautiful picture to burn into his mind. He gasped.
‘God, Rose,’ he cried, pulling her down and pushing into her harder, delighting in her sighs. He shifted his hips, finding the exact angle he needed, and mercilessly drove deeper, causing her to cry out his name. He reached for her sensations and found only pleasure, so he relentlessly pursued those peaks that he knew she was capable of. The feel of her burning flesh around his was nearly enough to drive him insane, but he kept on, murmuring to her in any language, any endearments, he could think of, pushing her higher and higher. He felt her pause and quiver and knew she was right on the edge, just about to pull him over with her.
‘Doctor,’ she gasped. He watched a bead of sweat roll down her chin, over her neck, between her breasts. He leaned forward and captured it on his tongue just before she came apart in his hands, shaking and shuddering, her flesh pulsing against his. He felt the rush in her limbs as she came, the intense, overwhelming release of tension, every synapse in her brain as it fired and released. He felt her clench and throb around him, and he lost control and let go, the strength of his orgasm knocking the breath from his lungs.
‘Oh god,’ she cried, trying to catch a tiny bit of breath and failing. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find any control, and so she gave up and slumped against his chest, still fighting for air. She smiled and nibbled his shoulder when he shuddered again, and sighed against her skin. She felt him pull away from her mind, but hold her body closer, meeting sweaty skin with skin.
‘That was…’ She trailed off, laughing breathlessly.
‘Fantastic!’ He said, smiling. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. ‘But then,’ he added. ‘I’m always fantastic!’
She snorted delicately. ‘I really should compliment you more, Doctor, your self-esteem is terrible!’
He smiled brightly and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘And now,’ he said, softly moving her body to sit next to him. ‘We’ll have a little something to eat, and we’re off to Barcelona! This is going to knock your socks off, Rose Tyler!’
A few hours later, the TARDIS materialized and as Rose ran to the doors, the Doctor was hot on her heels, eager to see her first impression of the planet. He wasn’t disappointed as she opened the door, her expression a picture of awe. Purple moonlight lit up her face, tinting her hair a soft lilac, and shining in her eyes.
‘Oh,’ she breathed, taking in the dark, glittering sand. ‘It looks like jewels.’
Her gaze turned to the Doctor, waiting for his explanations. He came up behind, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and pointed up at the huge object in the starry sky above them. ‘That is Barcelona’s only moon. It’s called Mjesec Mjesečev. It’s a light purple colour tonight because it’s reflecting the light from Grimizna Boja, one of Barcelona’s suns. It is one of the hottest stars in the universe, and it burns purple because it’s made of Potassium Nitrate. At other times in Barcelona’s month - that’s about three months, four days, twenty-two hours and six minutes of Earth’s time - it burns pale blue because it’s reflecting the light from Barcelona’s other sun, Modruljica, which burns turquoise because it’s made of Copper Chloride.’ He looked at her to find she was watching him, watching the moonlight reflecting in his dark eyes, rather than at the moon he was referring to, and smiled.
‘You’ll have to wear shoes on the beach, I’m afraid,’ he continued, and watched as her gaze fell to their feet. ‘The sand here is made from volcanic rock, and is basically black glass. It will cut your unprotected skin badly, so shoes are a must! And you’ll have to wear strong sun block as well. That moon might look pretty, but the suns will cook you minutes after you step outside’ He leaned down and kissed her neck fervently, lingering a minute to savour her skin. ‘That is, if you even want to come outside. There’s a fantastic hotel I’ve booked us into. You can get strange and wonderful spa treatments, be pampered beyond your wildest dreams. And then I can make you feel even better,’ he added with a sexy wink.
She shivered. ‘Is this what Jack used to call a Pleasure Planet?’
‘It will be for you, Rose,’ he whispered. ‘Now, come on, let’s have a walk before we head off to the resort.’
They ambled, hand in hand, over the black, sparkling sand, looking out at a smooth, onyx ocean. The sound of their chatter and laughter carried out over the water on a light breeze. His hearts felt full just watching her hair ruffle in the wind, and the love inside her light up her eyes. A couple of times, he couldn’t help but swing her around, giddily, revelling in the wild laughter that bubbled from her throat. He couldn’t imagine now how he’d lasted those ten lonely years without her.
After walking a good while, Rose began to yawn. Thoughtfully, the Doctor took off his overcoat and placed it carefully upon the sand. He lay on it and then pulled Rose down on top of him, smiling. She was backlit by the moon, which gave her a gigantic, pale purple halo. Happiness and health radiated off her skin like heat, and it drew him like a moth to a flame. He kissed first one hand and then the other, and watched as her eyes fell closed. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling her closer, and sliding his mouth over the firm, warm skin at her throat, inhaling her soft scent along with that of the ocean sighing behind them.
‘Rose,’ he whispered, against her skin, smiling when she gasped. ‘Should we go on to the hotel now?’
She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes full of fire. ‘Yes, I think we should,’ she said, her voice husky with desire. ‘I’ve got some things I have to take care of and you are top of my list.’
With a smile, he kissed her tenderly on the mouth and said, ‘As milady wishes!’
Giggling and stumbling over the black sand dunes, they made their way to a building about half a mile from the TARDIS. It looked like a fairy tale castle with all the lights shining in the windows, their reflections glittering in the sand. Rose walked, awe-struck, into a huge marble foyer and stood, wide-eyed, drinking in the elaborate post-modern decor as the Doctor checked them in and arranged breakfast for the next morning. Taking her hand, he led her to their room, swiping a chip through a niche in the door.
‘This is beautiful!’ Rose exclaimed, walking into the luxuriously furnished room. It was all done in shades of blue - cerulean, Caribbean, sky, cornflower, turquoise. She gasped to see the reflection of water on the ceiling and walls. The Doctor took off his overcoat and jacket and discarded them carefully on a large, azure couch, then squeezed her hand as he led her to a peaceful bedroom, complete with a gigantic bed. He laughed as she dropped his hand to flop about on the bed like a child, and he quickly joined her, laughing and flailing. A nine hundred year old - give or take a century - Time Lord, rolling about, howling, on a bed! He wondered if any of his kind had ever had a moment like this, had ever had this much fun. ‘Probably not, stuffy bastards,’ he thought, as he picked up a pillow and whacked Rose with it, laughing at the outraged expression that crossed her face. And then, before she could retaliate, he pulled her down to him in a passionate embrace, kissing her so fervently, that every other thought left her head.
He pulled back to see her eyes turn dark, her expression sweet and loving. It was times like this, and so many others, that she took his breath away. He slid a slightly shaky hand up her leg, gently pushing her skirt ahead of his questing fingers. Kneeling in front of her, his eyes locked with hers. His cool hand wrapped around her ankle, and pulling her legs into his lap, he caressed her feet, sliding off her shoes and setting them on the carpet behind him. ‘You won’t be needing these, Cinderella,’ he whispered, with a grin. He pressed a sweet kiss against her ankle and trailed soft, wet kisses up her shin. He came to her knee and sucked a moment on her kneecap, smiling, his tongue pressed provocatively against his teeth, when she erupted in giggles. ‘Are you ticklish there, Rose?’ He laughed. ‘I wonder where else you are ticklish…’ He pressed his face to her leg again and licked a path around to the back of her knee. She gasped as he hit a place that wasn’t ticklish, but certainly arousing. ‘Not there then,’ he whispered, against that spot, that oh so right spot, and continued his journey upwards.
He branded hot kisses up her thighs and came to rest just outside her knickers, bumping his nose against the barrier as Rose gasped and moaned. ‘It occurs to me, Miss Rose Tyler, that you have far too many clothes on. Too many snaps…’ He kissed her thigh again, then pressed another kiss against the barrier he wanted removed. ‘Too many buttons…’ She moaned loudly as he pulled the elastic of her knickers back with his teeth, caressing her skin with his lips. ‘And one very unnecessary zipper,’ he finished, rubbing his short stubble against her very sensitive skin.
She was limbless, languid, a puddle of arousal on the bed. Somewhere, in her brain, it was registering with her that he wanted her to move. He wanted to take her clothes off, and yet, she couldn’t seem to find the energy to help. She shook her head, trying to clear the lustful haze just enough to pull herself together to help him as he began to tug her denim skirt down over her ankles. Finally, she managed to sit up and kiss him heatedly just as he reached for her again. His body melted into hers, his arms pulling her closer, his hands reaching for the bottom of her pullover. He slid his nimble, clever fingers beneath the waistband of her top and traced her spine, pressing nameless patterns on her body, writing his name in every language on her skin. She arched and moved against him, trying, and yet failing, to bring every inch of her skin into contact with his. There was too much in her way. She reached for his tie and pulled him closer, moaning in frustration. There were just too many layers between them; she couldn’t breathe until they were removed. She tugged the tie off and discarded the length of expensive silk heedlessly on the floor. She made swift work of unbuttoning his shirt and found, to her eternal irritation, that there was another shirt beneath. It was like playing ‘pass the parcel’! Giving a growl of annoyance and possession, she pushed the unbuttoned shirt out of her way and lifted the t-shirt. Skin. She breathed a sigh of relief and lifted them both off to fall in a tangle of material onto the floor.
Her fingers danced over his chest, delighting in the different textures of his skin: the smooth, cool expanse of flesh that ran over his ribs; the soft, delicate points of his nipples; the touch of the hair that dusted his chest and stomach. She nearly laughed as her hands skimmed over his trembling abdomen. His eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as she bit down on his collarbone, certainly hard enough to leave a mark. He absolutely belonged to her, hearts and soul, and if she chose to advertise that fact, he was happy to let her. His head rocked back when her mouth closed over his left nipple, gently licking and sucking, and he realised that he was forgetting to breathe. Even after the realisation, it took him a moment longer to remember how to breathe, because she was kissing down his chest, rapidly finding her way to the fastening on his trousers. He realized he was either going to have to go up onto the bed or she was coming down onto the floor, and he thought it rather a shame to let such a huge, marvellous bed go to waste. Still, she slid on her knees before him on the floor, and all thoughts of when and how and where completely left his head. She kissed him again, hard and demanding, on the mouth, her tongue twining around his so skilfully, that he thought it entirely unfair she was overwhelming when he was the one who had set out to overwhelm.
He tried to turn the tables on her, lifting her top off, forcing her to break the kiss. It was discarded with the random other bits of clothing on the floor, and rather than allowing her to take him over again, he reached for her bra and discarded that as well, attacking her neck with fervour. He raced kisses along her body, trying to make up lost ground, to turn the tables on her, when he encountered the last little scrap of cloth left on her nearly bare body. He paused for a moment, unsure of how he intended to continue and then, inspiration struck, and he straightened, pulling her close, so close that their torsos were welded together. Her graceful neck craned up to his, his eyes locked to hers in a move that would have looked like a dance to an observer. He bent his head close, so close he breathed on her lips. Twining their fingers together, he lifted her hand over her head, extending her arm to the sky. He freed his hand and traced the length of skin on the outside of her arm, over wrist, and elbow, sliding along bicep and shoulder, then down her side, skirting the outside of one plump breast, and over her waist. His touch trailed to her hips where it halted. Deftly, he slid his long fingers beneath the material on her hip, beginning to slide her panties down, and, shifting their weight, slid them off one leg. A graceful lean the other way and they were off, and his prize to claim. He rolled his hips against hers, his form lithe and balanced, and watched her eyes as her raised hand fell to thread her fingers in his hair, pulling his head back, gaining her access to his neck. In a move any Latin dancer would envy, he dipped her low, a breath away from the surface of the carpet. His body was still pressed to hers, his free hand tracing her curves, her knickers still clutched in his hand. He pressed his lips, finally, achingly soft, to hers, and smiled against the sighs that escaped her lips as he laid her gently on the carpet.
He followed her down, raining hungry kisses on her desire-flushed face, his hands leaving his imprint all over her. Her gasps and sighs rang in his ear, compelling him to respond, pulling his breath swiftly from his lungs, quickening his pulses and heating his blood. He felt reckless with lust, giddy with the desire fizzing in his veins. His hands smoothed over her bottom, pulling her hips sharply against him…and that’s when he felt it. A patch. A small adhesive thing just above the lush curve of her backside. He knew what it was. It tempted him, cleared his head of rational thought, made him itch to peel it off, now, while he had her gasping, wanting him, at his mercy. He thought back, for a split second, to the time when he first regenerated, when he didn’t know what kind of man he was. He was a new man, and there, before him, was a big, shiny, red button. He wasn’t the type to resist temptation, and here, right beneath his fingerprints, there was a lure so personal, so enticing, it called to him like a siren. His lips danced over her skin as he touched it, ran his fingers over it, wondered if she’d even notice if he pulled it off. He thought about what a thrill it would be to make love to her, knowing that he was playing roulette with their lives, gambling, taking a risk. And then, he looked at Rose, really looked at her, the curve of her cheek, the warmth of trust in her honey brown eyes, the voluptuous curve of the lips that he had kissed thousands of times, and his hand slid away from the enticing adhesive square to softer, even more tempting places. Maybe he could make her sweat it off, anyway. He contemplated that thought as he slid home, and home again, the thought of babies and temptation gone as he lost himself in Rose.
The following morning was a rough one. Rose awoke early, on the floor, her chest swollen and aching to be drained. God, but this was a pain without Amarinda. She’d never really given any thought to using a breast pump until the idea of going away had begun to take shape. It was a practical solution, of course, as her daughter still had to eat even if she wasn’t there to personally deliver the meals, and Rose herself needed to pump both for comfort and to keep up her milk supply so she could feed the rapidly growing, very hungry baby when she returned. Still, in a very short time, she had grown to hate that breast pump, but deemed it a necessary evil. Grumpily, she stepped over the sleeping Doctor, and made her way to the bathroom. Why had he put it in there? She was irritable, and it was early, but she looked down at his sleeping form and her heart softened. What on Earth were they doing sleeping in the floor, anyway? She took one look at the soft, very inviting bed just a few feet away from him, and smiled. Careful not to jar her chest, she bent and woke him gently. ‘Doctor,’ she whispered. He grunted in his sleep and shivered. She rolled her eyes. If he was cold, you would think he’d he be easier to wake. ‘Doctor,’ she said, minimally louder, but he just cracked open one tired brown eye and looked at her blearily. ‘Go to bed, darling.’ His eye closed and the sound of soft snoring immediately wafted to her ears. She gave his hip a sharp poke with her toe. ‘Go to bed,’ she said, a little louder. Again, his eye opened and he looked at her, clearly not awake enough to really register what she was saying.
‘Is it time to look at that faulty temporal refractor?’ He asked her.
Shaking her head, she reached down and pulled him to his feet just long enough to turn back the covers and put him into bed on his stomach, tenderly planting a kiss on his sleeping head. Fetching the breast pump, she put it together and sat on the bed, beginning the lengthy process of draining first one breast, and then the other. Rose went back to the bathroom, dumped the contents down the drain - feeling almost guilty for the waste - and rinsed the pump’s components, mumbling, ‘He made a sonic screwdriver, why not a sonic breast pump? God, you’d think 13 months of pregnancy and three days of labour would get me a little Spock!’
She made a beeline for the bed and crawled in tight against the Doctor, wrapping herself around his warmer, sleeping body. Within seconds, she fell into a contented sleep.
Some hours later the Doctor awoke to find the room awash in eye-frying sunlight. He moaned and put his hand up to shield his eyes as he made his way to a small control panel in the far wall and pushed a button to tint the windows to a more acceptable level of darkness. Turning, he saw Rose sprawled on the bed, the blankets pooling around her waist, one arm thrown over her head. His eyes lovingly traced the line of her back and down over the slope of her shapely bottom. Her hair spilled randomly over her skin, drawing his eye to the tantalizing flashes of smooth flesh beneath. She was so undeniably tempting all the time, but at unguarded, vulnerable moments like this, he found her to be heartbreakingly beautiful. His fingers itched to touch her, but he denied himself the gratification and, instead, walked to the intercom in the sitting room and called for breakfast.
The sound of the door opening, the Doctor’s voice, and the rattle of dishes woke Rose. The bedroom was dim, and she sat up, disoriented, wondering how long, or how little, she had slept. Pulling the sheets to cover her chest, she noticed with a small wince that it was yet again time to pump and sighed resignedly.
Once breakfast was eaten and they were up, ready and dressed, they made their way out of the room, through a cleverly hidden sliding transparent door, onto the beach. The Doctor felt alive, happy, like nothing in the universe could take away from this perfect moment. Rose’s hand felt warm in his. The suns were shining beautifully, turning the sand into a fantastic world of reflective light, dancing in prisms on her face and glinting in the black water washing up on the shore. He watched Rose intently, a smile lighting up his features, as her sunglasses slipped down her nose. She brought their entwined hands up to her face to push them back into place and planted a kiss on the back of his hand before returning them to her side to swing happily as they walked.
When they reached the water, Rose watched it swirl around her trainers. She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed the air. ‘Is there something wrong with the water?’
‘Noooo,’ he replied, reaching down to cup a handful for her inspection. ‘I know it smells differently than Earth’s seawater, but that’s because there’s no salt, and no life, in Barcelona’s oceans. You could drink this water. It’s safe and it’s sweet. Try it.’
She put her lips to his hand and took an experimental sip. It was sweet, almost sugary. How strange. She looked out at the massive expanse of moving, shifting water. ‘Why is it black?’
‘It isn’t, it’s the reflection of the sands beneath the water. This water is a clear blue, like Earth’s.’
She looked into his hands. ‘Right,’ she said.
They waded along the edge of the water for a few more minutes, until they came upon a secluded, shady grove of trees that resembled the palms back on Earth. Rose pointed toward it, ‘This looks like a good spot to stop for a while.’ The Doctor agreed and laid out his coat over the sparkling sand, and they carefully sat down. After a quick reapplication of sun block, Rose stretched out languorously, enjoying the soothing warmth. The Doctor found her quite delectable, but as he moved closer to express his appreciation, he was stopped short by the light snore that drifted to his ears. He chuckled softly. Oh well. He hadn’t been letting her get much rest on their little vacation, so he contented himself with watching her sleep.
Rose awoke some time later with a start, her breasts feeling decidedly full and her tummy rumbling. She turned to find the Doctor smiling tenderly down at her. ‘Sorry,’ she apologized, ‘I didn’t realize how tired I was. How long have we been gone?’
She watched as he looked up into the sky, estimating the time by the suns’ journey across the heavens. She turned her face upward and regarded the purple-tinted clouds that lazily drifted by overhead. The wind tossed her hair joyfully, distracting him from his time-estimating task. He abandoned it and reached for her, pulling her close and thoroughly kissing her. Her body melted into his, her lips opening in an invitation he could never resist. His arms tightened around her, enjoying the feel of her sun-warmed body and the smell of her that tingled his senses.
After what felt like a fleeting eternity, he lifted his head and looked down into her face. ‘I think we’d best head back, we’re at least an hour away, if we walk quickly, and I’ve got plans for you tonight, we’ll need time to get ready.’ He grinned widely. ‘Rose, I am going to give you the night of your life!’
She smiled up at him. ‘Let’s go then!’ Their walk was leisurely and pleasant and when they arrived at their room, he lay on the bed and watched her dress with fascination. All those little rituals, those funny little human things she did, never failed to intrigue him. He watched as she slid a tube of lipstick over her lips and smiled.
He admired the way the dark blue silk of her evening dress hugged the smooth curves of her backside, and thought about telling her so, when she turned around. ‘What?’ She asked him, smiling.
‘Nothing. Just wondering why you chose blue,’ he said.
‘Well, our room is blue, one of the suns is blue, the people are blue…’ she began.
‘Some are bluer than others. It’s their version of a sun tan, but I must tell you, it’s not in fashion right now in Barcelona to be darker blue. That’s why you didn’t see many sunbathers out there today,’ he explained.
‘Oh!’ Rose exclaimed. ‘Do they tan blue because the sun is blue?’
‘Well, sort of. You tan golden brown because your sun is a yellow sun. The pigments in your skin are toned to protect you. Since they have a blue and a purple sun, their pigments are toned to protect them. So, it’s a yes and a no answer,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Now, are you ready? Or am I having dinner alone?’
She smiled and took his hand, allowing him to escort her out of their room.
They walked down to a restaurant in the ground floor complex and were seated at an elegant table with a beautiful suns-set view. The sommelier poured a sparkling golden liquid into their glasses as Rose watched the turquoise sun sink below the watery horizon. The Doctor then lifted his glass and held it in a toast. ‘Here’s to a night you will never forget, Rose Tyler,’ he whispered, intimately, his eyes all for her. She clinked her glass carefully against his and took a long sip.
Suddenly, her eyes shifted to something behind him, over his left shoulder.
‘What is it?’ He asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what she was witnessing. He turned in his chair and saw what had caught her attention. In a back corner, next to the kitchen, several large men had pinned the owner against a wall and appeared to be threatening him. When weapons were discreetly produced, the Doctor turned and looked at Rose, his eyes full of regret and resignation.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘But I have to find out what is going on.’
Rose’s eyes shifted to his, and she thought about the man to whom she had given her body, her life, her love…Of course he had to get involved. He was the Doctor! She smiled at him and sat her glass down. ‘C’mon then,’ she stated, calmly. ‘We’re in this together, let’s go.’ Crossing the room in a heartbeat, the Doctor boldly strode up to the group with a bright, manic, smile, and addressed the cowering owner. ‘Hello, my good sir! We just wanted to tell you what a lovely time Rose and I are having here. Isn’t that right, Rose?’
‘Rose,’ the Doctor said, mildly, still smiling. ‘Why don’t you take him aside and tell him about your special dietary requirements, while I have a word with these big fellas here.’
Rose met his eyes for a moment and then sprang into action. She put her hand around the little man, leading him off to the side, talking quickly and quietly, not allowing him a word in edgewise. She kept her eyes on the Doctor, fearful that something untoward was about to happen. There was a dangerous feel to the air, like the ozone before a particularly nasty storm.
‘Gentlemen,’ the Doctor said, putting on his most charming and persuading smile. ‘Everyone here is having such a fantastic time, so why don’t you come back later and discuss your grievances then, when it isn’t going to effect everyone’s evening?’
‘Why do you care?’ The first goon demanded. ‘This had nothing to do with you ‘til you and your little lady friend there started interfering.’ He reached out and pushed the Doctor, who immediately dropped his smile and allowed his irritation to show.
‘There is no need to get physical here,’ he said. He could see that the time for charm was passing by at an alarming rate. He needed to make himself clearly understood. ‘I am asking you nicely to leave. Just go.’
‘And who are you?’ The second goon scoffed.
The Doctor took a deep breath and let the essence of who and what he was fill his eyes. They darkened to piercing, black pools; deep, fathomless, and oh, so deadly. The thugs’ faces paled, and they both took a step backwards. ‘Depends on who you ask,’ he said, letting menace saturate his voice. Quiet venom dripped from every syllable. ‘The Oncoming Storm, to some, Ka Faraq Gatri - The Bringer Of Darkness - to others. The World Killer. Time Lord. Champion. You choose the title, gentlemen. Whatever you want to call me, I think you’d better leave.’
The two, frightened aliens didn’t appear to be so tough now, Rose noticed. They were starting to edge toward the door. She watched, arm still around the nervous owner, as one turned to the Doctor and said something that didn’t carry across the floor. She saw the Doctor’s face pale when he heard it. For a second, every freckle on his face stood out in sharp relief. She watched him swallow, take a deep breath, and close his eyes for a moment, and then he turned to her and put on his megawatt smile once more.
‘Right!’ He said brightly, as though nothing had happened. ‘Let’s get on with dinner, shall we?’ He turned to the grateful proprietor. ‘Could we get a nice bottle of wine here? Oh, and something to nibble on?’
The restaurateur took the Doctor by the hand, shaking it vigorously. He clapped his hands quickly, calling the entire wait staff to their table. ‘I want you to be sure that this gentleman and lovely lady get anything and everything they want, free of charge,’ he commanded, waving away Rose’s protests. The Doctor just looked at her over the table and gave her an excited smile. ‘Now, sir,’ he said, turning to the Doctor. ‘You be sure to call me if there’s anything at all you require. Enjoy.’
‘I told you that staying with me was a good idea,’ he said, a delighted smile lighting up his face. ‘Eat up, Rose, this is going to be brilliant!’
She did eat well that evening, enjoying the strange, new tastes and textures. She moaned in ecstasy as she sampled a creamy, decadent dessert they presented to her. It seemed to be a combination of chocolate mousse, orange liquor and some indefinable something that melted on her tongue. And yet, as much as he ate everything with abandon, the Doctor seemed distracted.
He observed her eating her dessert with lascivious fascination; watched as her mouth lingered indecently on the spoon. He couldn’t believe he was feeling jealous of a spoon, but as he saw her delicately licking chocolate sauce off her fingers, he realised just how much he wanted to take her straight back to the TARDIS, where he knew she’d be safe, and where he could lick chocolate sauce off her fingers.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I have to guess?’ Rose finally asked him.
‘Nothing! I’m fine! Brilliant, in fact,’ he insisted, sitting back and feigning contentment. ‘I could use a little walk to try to settle this dinner, though.’ He stood, and helped her out of her comfortable chair.
Slowly, they found their way to the lobby and out the front door. Rose gasped at the big, beautiful purple moon and the sparkling sand. She was awed by Barcelona’s beauty and the Doctor was awed by her. Hand-in-hand, they walked, and he watched her, the way the purple tinted moonlight shone on her skin. The breeze blew her hair softly around her face, he thought about how beautiful it was. Like spun gold, flowing gently over her shoulders. She’d changed very little in the entire time he’d known her, but he couldn’t help but think about how very soon she would begin to age, while he did not. A melancholy mood stole over him; a morose, premature sense of mourning stealing this perfect moment from him. A warm breeze, as soft and sweet as a lover’s breath tickled the back of his neck and he shivered in response.
He shook his head, trying to force himself back to the present, and to stop poking about in a future he had no business trying to see. He thought about their encounter earlier, and part of him wished he had given into his temptation. Fear of being alone pricked at his heart, as badly as he wished he could disregard it. He wanted lots of babies to teach, lots of reminders of Rose running around his TARDIS, keeping her with him for eternity. He stopped and Rose turned, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.
‘What do you think that was back there, Rose? Did the owner say anything to you?’ He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he just needed her to talk to him. He turned her hand over in his, noticing the fragile network of bones, tendons, blood vessels and smooth skin that made up the beloved hand clasped in his. He would lose her, someday. Some day in the far-flung future to her, but it would be the blink of an eye to him. His hearts squeezed in anticipatory grief, a panicky ache that knocked the breath from him. His eyes met hers and he fought to keep himself from shaking as he waited for her answer.
‘The owner said it was some sort of protection racket,’ she replied. “You know, like the old mob scams? Pay up to prevent something bad happening to you or your property.’
‘That sounds about right,’ the Doctor said, still preoccupied in dark thoughts. ‘There used to be a Barcelonan version of Earth’s mafia. Maybe they aren’t gone, just underground,’ he explained. She noticed he still seemed to be lacking his normal exuberance and wanted to leave it alone, let him talk about it when he was ready, but she had a sneaking suspicion she knew the source.
Cursing herself, but knowing she had to ask, she took a deep breath. ‘What did they say to you as they were leaving?’
He winced, as though hoping she hadn’t noticed that exchange. ‘Well, it wasn’t an invitation to play Scrabble.’
‘Doctor?’ She asked, stopping and pulling him around to face her, concern etched into her features. ‘Tell me. What did they say?’
He pulled her into his arms, trying to concentrate on the smell of the sea on her skin. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he whispered. ‘I won’t let them touch you.’
‘They threatened me?’ She squeaked in surprise. ‘Why me? I didn’t do anything!’
‘You’re my Achilles heel,’ he explained. ‘I’m not afraid of being hurt myself, Rose, but you…if I lost you...’ A panicky breath hitched in his throat, then he squeezed her tightly, rubbing his hands over her chilly arms. ‘I’m not going to let that happen,’ he promised.
Later, when he thought back to that moment, it seemed to him as if he were the butt of some huge cosmic joke. A very unfunny cosmic joke.
Rose suddenly tensed, and there was a hiss. The Doctor sensed a projectile coming for him but before he could move, he felt the object find its target in his back. Shock and a sense of panic welled up inside him, and then all went dark for a moment. He felt his body get heavier and heavier and heard Rose’s frightened questions, but he couldn’t answer her. Then he heard the sound of footsteps coming towards them, and he knew it wasn’t help, but he couldn’t move to protect Rose. Helpless anger overwhelmed him, making his hearts beat faster, causing the poison, or tranquilizer, whatever it was, to pump quicker through his system. He concentrated on finding the substance and neutralizing it. He came to almost immediately to find himself lying on the sand, unable to move. His eyes met Rose’s in a silent plea. Run. But she didn’t run. She stood her ground, and demanded to know what had been done to him. He was forced to watch helplessly, his world spinning, as the thugs from the restaurant dragged Rose, fighting like a demon, spitting and cursing, away from him. She scrabbled at the volcanic rock, trying to break free, cutting her fingers to ribbons, screaming for him, and he could do nothing but lie there with silent tears streaming down his face, paralysed by fear and whatever they had used to immobilise him, and watch.
Helpless tears leaked out of the corners of the Doctor’s eyes as he heard Rose’s screams become farther and farther away and finally so far away, he could no longer hear or see her. Anger shook the crippling effects of the drug from his system. Swearing, although completely unsure whether he was swearing at himself or the monsters who abducted her, he roused himself from his sandy bed and carefully stood. Staggering, he made his way back to the hotel to tell the authorities what had happened and to prepare himself for the battle ahead.
He would find Rose and when he did, no authority in all of Space and Time would stop him from having his revenge.