amberfocus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amberfocus) wrote2009-01-15 08:01 am
amberfocus) wrote2009-01-15 08:01 am
Entry tags:
Second Chances (1/1)
Title: Second Chances (1/1)
Author: amberfocus
Characters/Pairing: Ten2/Rose
Genre: Fluff
Rating: G. Yes. Really.
Beta: amyo67
Summary: He’d thought she was the one getting a second chance that day he’d come back for her and asked her again to come with him. He’d never dreamed that it was really him being offered that chance.
Second Chances
The Doctor loved watching her sleep. She slept far more than he thought was normal even with throwing humanity into the mix. He had protested time and time again that he didn’t think she ought to sleep so much, but Rose had just rolled her eyes and told him that different people had different sleep needs and he could watch, but he was not, under any circumstances, to wake her. The last forty-eight hours had been very trying and if anyone deserved uninterrupted slumber it was her.
She’d glared at him until he’d agreed that Rose very much had a point and had promised to not interfere with this essential, at least to some people, practice. Then she’d sighed and rolled over and there hadn’t been a peep from Rose since. He still didn’t think it could be entirely natural, but did have to admit that if anyone had an excuse to be knackered it was the object of his affections. So he sat there waiting patiently; at least for the most part patiently. Being patient wasn’t easy, though it was easier now than in some bodies. It was also easier than dealing with an upset Rose.
It was hard sometimes to keep his hands to himself, even more so when she was awake. It had gotten to the point where Rose had insisted that sometimes a girl needed just a bit of space, didn’t constantly need to be touched. He’d huffed and tried not to look all offended, but it was ridiculously hard. He’d lost his heart to her instantly and she’d wrapped him around her little finger in seconds.
He’d become a very tactile man in this body, even more so than before, and so the urge to touch was very, very strong indeed. He got lost sometimes in the desire just to hold on to something that kept him so grounded in this world like nothing had ever done. Something that gave him a real future when he’d thought not so long ago that he’d never have anything to look forward to again. She was beautiful and he adored her and he couldn’t believe that this precious girl was his.
His hand itched to touch the softness of her hair, to caress the pale pink skin, the darker eyelids with their incredibly long lashes. He wanted to trace the cupid’s bow of her mouth. He stopped himself, barely, sighed and moved his chair closer to the bed. She moved in her sleep then, made some small noise and a breath fluttered from her now open lips. The little pink tongue fluttered out then back in and he could see her eyes moving rapidly behind the lids.
Her hand emerged from inside the blanket, fingers opening and shutting and he put his hand against hers. It instinctively curled about his. At the touch he could no longer resist reaching out a finger and stroking it softly down her cheek, tracing the contour of her cheekbone. “Mine,” he whispered. She shifted under his touch, her nose wrinkling up and her big brown eyes blinking open slowly. She stared at him for a long, long moment and he hoped desperately that she wouldn’t be upset that he’d woken her.
He ran his fingers up to her hair and gently stroked the shiny waves that haloed her head in gold. Her eyes continued to follow him and she made no sounds of protest at being pulled from dreamland. She was perfect, beautiful, so innocent, and trusting of the fact that he’d never, ever hurt her. He sighed, glanced behind his shoulder at his sleeping wife, at their snoring toddler son curled into her side, and then turned back to his newborn daughter.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said gruffly. Unable to resist any longer he scooped the infant up out of her bassinet and into his arms. She weighed next to nothing, a mere 6 pounds and 2 ounces at birth and had only put on a few more ounces in the last couple of days. She snuffled her mouth against his chest and he cradled her head with a hand nearly as large as her body, his long fingers touching the surprising amount of baby-soft hair she’d been born with, then her mind tone changed from warm/sleepy/happy, to uncomfortable/cold/wet. “Time for a nappy change,” he said.
He carried his baby daughter over to the changing table and set about remedying the situation. If his old enemies could see him now, they’d laugh at him, thinking him reduced to nothing more than a domestic, besotted idiot. The thing they wouldn’t understand is that having Rose, having their son and their new daughter, made him more dangerous than anyone could ever imagine. He’d been willing to fight before, had done so often, but he’d never had anything he’d been as scared to lose.
He swaddled the infant back into her blanket and with a sigh of contentment the Doctor eased himself onto the bed, resting the child on her stomach just over his heart, her little face turned towards her mother. He rested one hand on her back to keep her in position and the other drifted down to ruffle his boy’s thick brown hair.
His son’s eyes, steel blue and exactly like his own once were, opened for just a moment and he shifted a bit away from Rose so he could rest his head against his father’s leg. He gave his father a sleepy, trusting smile before one little hand reached up and clasped the tiny foot that emerged from his sister’s blanket and then he stretched out his leg to make contact with Rose. When he was sure that he was touching every member of his family he closed his eyes and nuzzled his dark head into a more comfortable position and fell back into slumber.
He didn’t laugh at the boy’s desire for contact. The toddler’s need to lay claim on the members of his family was very much the Doctor’s own. He reached out with his free hand and rested it against his wife’s arm. Unlike his children, she did not stir at the contact, but a light smile played across her tired lips. Even in dreams she recognized his touch.
How he loved her, this fierce, loyal, strong, independent, young human woman. How very much she had changed his life. If he’d never followed that signal, never saved her from Henrik’s, never tracked down that plastic arm, never asked her to come with him, he wouldn’t have this. Not any of it. She’d fought to get back to him time after time. She’d accepted him from the moment the TARDIS had disappeared and left them standing on that forsaken beach. She’d given him so much. Two precious children and her own tender love. This…this was worth every horror he’d endured before meeting her; all the loneliness he’d endured in the two long years without her.
He’d thrown around the phrase, “No second chances,” more times than he liked to think about now. He was glad he’d actually been a different man when he’d first met her, a man much more willing to give those out. It was almost funny when he thought about it. He’d thought she was the one getting a second chance that day he’d come back for her and asked her again to come with him. He’d never dreamed that it was really him being offered that chance. “Mine,” he whispered again. But the truth of the matter was he was theirs. And he was exactly where he wanted to be.
Author: amberfocus
Characters/Pairing: Ten2/Rose
Genre: Fluff
Rating: G. Yes. Really.
Beta: amyo67
Summary: He’d thought she was the one getting a second chance that day he’d come back for her and asked her again to come with him. He’d never dreamed that it was really him being offered that chance.
Second Chances
The Doctor loved watching her sleep. She slept far more than he thought was normal even with throwing humanity into the mix. He had protested time and time again that he didn’t think she ought to sleep so much, but Rose had just rolled her eyes and told him that different people had different sleep needs and he could watch, but he was not, under any circumstances, to wake her. The last forty-eight hours had been very trying and if anyone deserved uninterrupted slumber it was her.
She’d glared at him until he’d agreed that Rose very much had a point and had promised to not interfere with this essential, at least to some people, practice. Then she’d sighed and rolled over and there hadn’t been a peep from Rose since. He still didn’t think it could be entirely natural, but did have to admit that if anyone had an excuse to be knackered it was the object of his affections. So he sat there waiting patiently; at least for the most part patiently. Being patient wasn’t easy, though it was easier now than in some bodies. It was also easier than dealing with an upset Rose.
It was hard sometimes to keep his hands to himself, even more so when she was awake. It had gotten to the point where Rose had insisted that sometimes a girl needed just a bit of space, didn’t constantly need to be touched. He’d huffed and tried not to look all offended, but it was ridiculously hard. He’d lost his heart to her instantly and she’d wrapped him around her little finger in seconds.
He’d become a very tactile man in this body, even more so than before, and so the urge to touch was very, very strong indeed. He got lost sometimes in the desire just to hold on to something that kept him so grounded in this world like nothing had ever done. Something that gave him a real future when he’d thought not so long ago that he’d never have anything to look forward to again. She was beautiful and he adored her and he couldn’t believe that this precious girl was his.
His hand itched to touch the softness of her hair, to caress the pale pink skin, the darker eyelids with their incredibly long lashes. He wanted to trace the cupid’s bow of her mouth. He stopped himself, barely, sighed and moved his chair closer to the bed. She moved in her sleep then, made some small noise and a breath fluttered from her now open lips. The little pink tongue fluttered out then back in and he could see her eyes moving rapidly behind the lids.
Her hand emerged from inside the blanket, fingers opening and shutting and he put his hand against hers. It instinctively curled about his. At the touch he could no longer resist reaching out a finger and stroking it softly down her cheek, tracing the contour of her cheekbone. “Mine,” he whispered. She shifted under his touch, her nose wrinkling up and her big brown eyes blinking open slowly. She stared at him for a long, long moment and he hoped desperately that she wouldn’t be upset that he’d woken her.
He ran his fingers up to her hair and gently stroked the shiny waves that haloed her head in gold. Her eyes continued to follow him and she made no sounds of protest at being pulled from dreamland. She was perfect, beautiful, so innocent, and trusting of the fact that he’d never, ever hurt her. He sighed, glanced behind his shoulder at his sleeping wife, at their snoring toddler son curled into her side, and then turned back to his newborn daughter.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said gruffly. Unable to resist any longer he scooped the infant up out of her bassinet and into his arms. She weighed next to nothing, a mere 6 pounds and 2 ounces at birth and had only put on a few more ounces in the last couple of days. She snuffled her mouth against his chest and he cradled her head with a hand nearly as large as her body, his long fingers touching the surprising amount of baby-soft hair she’d been born with, then her mind tone changed from warm/sleepy/happy, to uncomfortable/cold/wet. “Time for a nappy change,” he said.
He carried his baby daughter over to the changing table and set about remedying the situation. If his old enemies could see him now, they’d laugh at him, thinking him reduced to nothing more than a domestic, besotted idiot. The thing they wouldn’t understand is that having Rose, having their son and their new daughter, made him more dangerous than anyone could ever imagine. He’d been willing to fight before, had done so often, but he’d never had anything he’d been as scared to lose.
He swaddled the infant back into her blanket and with a sigh of contentment the Doctor eased himself onto the bed, resting the child on her stomach just over his heart, her little face turned towards her mother. He rested one hand on her back to keep her in position and the other drifted down to ruffle his boy’s thick brown hair.
His son’s eyes, steel blue and exactly like his own once were, opened for just a moment and he shifted a bit away from Rose so he could rest his head against his father’s leg. He gave his father a sleepy, trusting smile before one little hand reached up and clasped the tiny foot that emerged from his sister’s blanket and then he stretched out his leg to make contact with Rose. When he was sure that he was touching every member of his family he closed his eyes and nuzzled his dark head into a more comfortable position and fell back into slumber.
He didn’t laugh at the boy’s desire for contact. The toddler’s need to lay claim on the members of his family was very much the Doctor’s own. He reached out with his free hand and rested it against his wife’s arm. Unlike his children, she did not stir at the contact, but a light smile played across her tired lips. Even in dreams she recognized his touch.
How he loved her, this fierce, loyal, strong, independent, young human woman. How very much she had changed his life. If he’d never followed that signal, never saved her from Henrik’s, never tracked down that plastic arm, never asked her to come with him, he wouldn’t have this. Not any of it. She’d fought to get back to him time after time. She’d accepted him from the moment the TARDIS had disappeared and left them standing on that forsaken beach. She’d given him so much. Two precious children and her own tender love. This…this was worth every horror he’d endured before meeting her; all the loneliness he’d endured in the two long years without her.
He’d thrown around the phrase, “No second chances,” more times than he liked to think about now. He was glad he’d actually been a different man when he’d first met her, a man much more willing to give those out. It was almost funny when he thought about it. He’d thought she was the one getting a second chance that day he’d come back for her and asked her again to come with him. He’d never dreamed that it was really him being offered that chance. “Mine,” he whispered again. But the truth of the matter was he was theirs. And he was exactly where he wanted to be.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 2