amberfocus | You're What?: Chapter Twenty

Sweet Romance

Rose smiled as the Doctor appeared behind her in the mirror. “Brought you something,” he said a trifle gruffly and picked a clip up from her vanity table. He wove the stem of the flower into the clip and then slipped it into Rose’s hair. “It’s an orphelium,” he said his fingers slipping from her hair to rest against the nape of her neck.

“It’s very pretty.”

“Yes,” he agreed his eyes on hers in the glass. “Very pretty, but it pales in comparison to you.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, then glanced back up at the naked longing in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat despite the cheesiness of his line. It was obvious to her he meant every single word. His voice dropped to a husky near whisper. “If you wear it on the left side like this it means you’re taken,” he told her carefully watching for her reaction. His hand rubbed gently against her neck and she leaned into his touch.

Trying to ease the sudden butterflies that had risen up in her stomach at his words and actions she said with a cheeky grin, “Well, I was certainly very well taken earlier. And if you play your cards right, I might just let you take me again later tonight.”

He barely managed to cover the start of a frown but she still saw it. She was much more comfortable with the idea of making sexual advances than emotional ones at the moment and the Doctor seemed to be determined to move in the other direction. Redirection had always been her forte before meeting the Doctor, though she’d usually used it to stop unwanted sex not to stop feelings she was not quite sure how to deal with.

“Rose,” he said in the way that only he could ever say her name, low and with a timbre that resonated. She rose shakily to her legs and turned to face him.

“So,” she said brightly, “this surprise you have for me. I don’t reckon I can see it if we stay in here all night talking about flowers.”

He sighed but when she placed her hand in his, rubbing her thumb against the webbing between his thumb and index finger with a gentle caress, he seemed to make the decision to let it go for now. Rose sighed in relief as his broad grin reappeared, even if it was a trifle forced and he tugged her out of her bedroom, through the console room, and out into the heat of the desert night.

They wandered through the market stalls, many doing a much brisker business now that the suns had descended to a level where the heat was merely slightly uncomfortable and not ridiculously sweltering. In another hour, or so the Doctor claimed, there might be complete comfort. She heard the swelling of music that got louder as they approached and Rose could see flashes of color up ahead.

“We’re not going to Jack’s party are we?” she asked hesitantly.

“NO!” She looked at him with wide eyes, startled at his vehemence. He modulated his tone. “No, Rose. The last place I’d take you to is one of those…things. Jack’s…party is on the other side of the market, towards the permanent buildings. This is…this is different. It’s for us.”

“For us? Specifically?” she asked curious.

“Well, for people like us. You know,” he hesitated then continued, “couples.”

Rose stopped and looked up at him trying not to draw her brows down too heavily and having to restrain herself from dropping his hand and crossing her arms. “What do you mean couples?”

“I mean, we are, aren’t we? We’ve made that step back towards each other, haven’t we?” he asked her.

“Well, yeah,” she said looking at him like he was daft. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, what is this thing for couples?” she wanted to know.

“It’s a celebration.”

“A celebration of what?” Rose asked impatiently. This time she did cross her arms and her foot started tapping in irritation. The Doctor looked down at the ground and she could swear his ears were turning pink in embarrassment. When he actually scuffed his boot in the dirt and gave her a very shy look she didn’t know whether to giggle at the Doctor reduced to a school boy or try desperately to keep her face straight. She went for the latter. It was obvious he was being very serious with her.

“It’s a celebration of love, Rose. For people who are in love,” he finally managed to spit out.

“Oh,” she managed, her breath taken away from her.

“People like us?” he said, but it came out as a question.

Rose stared at him for a long minute and then she moved into his body and put her arms around him. There was nothing sexual about her touch in this moment, nor was there anything sexual in his response to her as he enfolded her into his embrace. It was a very simple exchange of emotion. Something small and yet incredibly huge shifted between them in the flickering of that slice of time and she was almost ready to believe in him again. She nodded against his chest and said softly, “I am still in love with you, Doctor. That never stopped.”

“I’m in love with you, Rose. It never stopped for me, either,” his voice broke and his hold on her tightened. She held tighter to his rangy form, soaking in the comfort that was him, the light crisp smell of honey and sage and cinnamon with the underlying scent of engine oil. He buried his face in her hair, being careful to avoid crushing the flower.

After a long time she pulled back from him, stood up on her tiptoes, and delivered a soft, chaste kiss. When she broke away she smiled at him. “Come on,” she said taking his hand. “Take me to this celebration.”

Rose kept her hand in his for the rest of the night when it was not otherwise engaged in some other form of touching him. They had made their way through the central pillars with the soft, draping blue silk on either side and into a gazebo woven with flowers that looked like red honeysuckle and yellow sweetheart roses. Tiny white fairy lights lit the flowers from within and on either side of the steps leading up, torches with the scent of lemon burned brightly.

Several of the temporary structures had been erected in the vast field and he could see dozens of couples scattered throughout them talking privately amongst themselves or showing affection as they took in the sights of the musicians who wove through the area followed by cavorting dancers.

The music was sensual, soft, with an underlying drumbeat of maddening slowness. It was like holding one’s breath, anticipating the next thud of a heart beating out as it called to its soul mate. In his case, both of his hearts were crying out for Rose’s single one.

Rose leaned against the rail watching the activity before her. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body, his hands going to rub gently across her exposed belly. She leaned back into him instead, a slight sway coming into her hips as she unconsciously echoed the rhythm of the drums.

The Doctor groaned as her gentle movements brought him to arousal as if he hadn’t just spent the better part of the last four hours making love with her. His hands tightened on her waist and Rose froze against him for a moment before continuing the oscillation of her lower body. One of her arms crept upwards and wrapped around the back of his neck bringing her back into firm contact with his chest.

He leaned down and bit lightly against her earlobe, his cool breath against her neck making her shiver delightfully against him. Rose turned in his arms and lifted her face to him and he met her lips with a quiet sigh. His tongue flicked out and ran across her upper lip before seeking to part the soft seal of her mouth.

Rose opened her mouth under the gentle pressure, yielding immediately to the tender explorations of his tongue as he sought her hidden recesses. He stroked lightly against her, running his tongue up behind her teeth and making her push ever so slightly into him when he brushed across the roof of her mouth.

He could feel her hands sliding up under the back of his jumper where it found his skin begging for her touch. Her fingers caressed lightly at the indentation there and he involuntarily thrust his pelvis forward. She smiled against his kiss and then a moment later rather reluctantly pulled herself away from him. His little moan of frustration at the loss of her caused another smile to grace her lips.

“We’re in public, Doctor,” she said mildly and it was enough for him to remember himself. He straightened his jumper where she’d rucked it up.

He started to speak and had to cough to clear his throat. “Are you ready for your surprise then?” he asked her quietly.

“You mean this wasn’t it? This beautiful place, this celebration?”

“No. Miss Rose Tyler, may I have the honor of this dance?” he asked her.

She stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. “You want to dance with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Out in public?”

“Yeah.”

“But you hate dancing,” she said in shock.

“But you love it. And I love you,” he said. “And I can think of worse things to do of an evening then holding you in my arms and swaying against your body.” He tugged her down the steps and out onto the field where many warm bodies writhed to the music. She stepped into his arms and leaned trustingly into him.

The Doctor closed his eyes and forgot the rest of the world as they began to move to the sensual beat of the music. Rose sighed happily as her hand trailed lazily up and down his spine. A moment later the baby kicked against Rose’s stomach and he felt the repercussions against his own body. He started to laugh. For the first time in ages he was completely happy.

“We love you,” she whispered up to him.

“I love the both of you, too,” he told her. “And I promise I won’t leave you.”

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I believe you, Doctor,” she said softly. He thought his hearts might burst in joy.

Ch. 21: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/99404.html

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From:

maniacalshen.livejournal.com

She was much more comfortable with the idea of making sexual advances than emotional ones at the moment and the Doctor seemed to be determined to move in the other direction.

Silly Doctor. For Rose just now, hormones > emotions. They're certainly less confusing. And I had to laugh when he said it was a celebration for couples, and Rose was clearly concerned about it being something naughty. At least, that's how it looked to me.

Adorable ending. Though - and I hope you won't think I'm badgering - I continue to be deeply concerned about what's going to happen when Jackie finds out about Rose being pregnant. And the longer they wait, the worse it's going to be!

From:

Not Rose-Colored Glasses

You're What?: Chapter Twenty

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