Good Intentions
“There,” said the Doctor, leaning away from the microscope and stretching tight muscles, his long form leaning back against the chair as his arms rose into the air.
Rose watched through heavily lidded eyes. She was tired but not so tired she couldn’t enjoy the lovely way he looked as his body moved and his muscles rippled. “There?” she repeated a little dumbly.
Good Intentions
“There,” said the Doctor, leaning away from the microscope and stretching tight muscles, his long form leaning back against the chair as his arms rose into the air.
Rose watched through heavily lidded eyes. She was tired but not so tired she couldn’t enjoy the lovely way he looked as his body moved and his muscles rippled. “There?” she repeated a little dumbly.
Certainty
Rose glanced at her watch. It was probably the twentieth time in three hours that she had looked at it. She bit her lip and looked over at the Doctor, probably for the fiftieth time in the last three hours. Three hours since he’d injected her with and taken a dose himself of the new serum and she still wanted him. When he accidently brushed against her for the third time in as many minutes to put a book on a high shelf she made a soft kittenish noise.
“Did you just mew at me?” the Doctor asked with a large amount of humor in both his voice and his eyes.
Certainty
Rose glanced at her watch. It was probably the twentieth time in three hours that she had looked at it. She bit her lip and looked over at the Doctor, probably for the fiftieth time in the last three hours. Three hours since he’d injected her with and taken a dose himself of the new serum and she still wanted him. When he accidently brushed against her for the third time in as many minutes to put a book on a high shelf she made a soft kittenish noise.
“Did you just mew at me?” the Doctor asked with a large amount of humor in both his voice and his eyes.
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