amberfocus | The Prettiest Rose on Prometheus (3/4)

A/N: Yeah, I know I said three chapters, but it morphed into four.  For those few of you who didn't really want smut on this one, you can just pretend it ends at the end of chapter three. For the rest of you, I'm quite a ways into chapter four. The song in this chapter is called All the Way/4 U by Poet's of the Fall, and is in a roundabout way the fault of Beneficia who suggested a different song by the same group. When I found this one though, I just fell in love with it for the Doctor and Rose. I posted a link to a Nine/Rose vid with it in my previous entry if you'd like to hear what the song sounds like.

                                                                   Chapter Three: Diadora

She couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from her lips at the old-fashioned thought of going steady with the Doctor. He was so proper, so formal about it all. It was, of course, exactly the sort of thing he’d do though, a way of making her his without, quite yet, making her his.

The Doctor’s brow furrowed and his eyes started to look wounded. Rose felt a sudden sense of panic that he might think she was laughing at him, not out of happiness. “Yes,” she said hastily through her laughter. “I’ll agree to that.”

“You will?” He sounded as if he didn’t quite believe her, as if he thought she’d want more freedom than being tied to one man might allow. She nodded.

The slow loosening of the tension that had gathered in his eyes was eased further by her reaching up with her thumbs and slowly stroking the little lines away from the corners. His eyes fell closed as he leaned into her touch. “What use would I have for other men if I know that you,” she hesitated and his eyes opened, “want me?”

“Oh, I want you, Rose Tyler,” he said and she blinked at the sudden, intense sexuality he radiated. She swallowed hard, her laughter dying in her throat. It was like waking up a panther, a panther who realized its prey was just in its sights and had bunched its muscles, ready to spring. Just as suddenly as it had come, the look vanished.

He grinned at her then and his own laughter rang in her ears as he pulled her into his embrace and spun around with her a few times before setting her down a bit unsteadily on her feet. She was dizzy and she wasn’t at all sure it was from the spinning. He nudged her into a chair and then he sat down across from her at the table. “Then consider this our first date, Rose Tyler.” He reached out and grasped her hand with his and twined their fingers together.

“What about when we went for chips?” she asked. “End of the world. Thought that was our first date.”

“First date where I pay,” he amended. “First date where my intentions towards you, Miss Tyler, are less than pure.”

“How—how much less?” she queried with a quiver in her voice. She wasn’t quite sure if it was of anticipation, desire, or fear. He’s not called the Oncoming Storm for nothing and she thought that just quite possibly that might translate into the bedroom should they end up there.

He gave her a look that just about reduced her to a puddle beneath the table, his fingers stroking the inside of her wrist in a way that was decidedly sensual. “That’s for me to know, and for you to enjoy finding out.” With the other hand he pulled up the little computerized menu and with his mood changing on a dime from sensual to hungry, he said, “Now let’s just see what they have on here that looks good enough to eat.”

Rose had her own ideas about what looked good enough to eat and he was sitting directly across from her at the table. She shooed the naughty thought from her mind, wondering how she could go from being distraught that he was leaving her to unbelievably overjoyed that he actually did have some sort of romantic feelings for her and quite apparently sexual designs on her as well.

She smiled as the Doctor read her the choices, but all the while a little piece of her was wondering how far he intended to go and how fast. Butterflies flitted in her stomach at the thought of this beautiful man making love to her. She loved him she knew, and if he asked, fast as it was, she would not deny him if he wanted to immediately take her into his bed. As if he had caught what she was thinking he stopped and gave her an almost wicked smile and ran his tongue lightly over his bottom lip before picking up again where he’d left off.

A meal was decided upon, but Rose didn’t know what it was she’d agreed to eat because her mind was too busy racing with the possibilities and realities of becoming the Doctor’s… She discarded word after word before finally settling on lover. She liked that one and for more reasons than what the simple word implied. It was because, in the end, the designation contained the word love within it. And she loved him. Some days it felt like she’d loved him her entire life instead of just nearly the entire year they’d been together.

As for the more common, popular definition of the word lover, well, she wanted that, too. Even though the romance was only just beginning, she felt that as best friends she’d known him long enough that making love to him this soon would not be a mistake. The question was, really, did the Doctor want that or was he more old-fashioned? Did he want to wait? She could do that, too, if it’s what he wanted.

The Doctor fiddled with the little handheld computer and suddenly smiled. “Oh, it’s got musical selections on here,” he told her. “I thought it must. They said each bower was equipped with a place for dancing.”

“Don’t see a dance square,” Rose said.

“Ah, well, there’s the big patch of moss. Meant for barefoot dancing,” he says. “We’ll just have to take off a few things.” He glanced down her legs to her specially engineered footwear. “Even if those are the perfect shoes to dance in, they’d tear up the moss.”

“Does that mean you’ll dance with me?” she asked shyly.

“Oh, I fully intend to dance with you, Rose. All night long if you’ll let me.” She blushed and dropped her gaze from his. She wasn’t entirely sure of his meaning. He’d talked about dancing and he’d talked about dancing, but he’d always held back both things from her after that first night they’d danced to "In the Mood" and a few other songs and then after settling Jack in a room for the night, far away from her room and his own, which were side by side, he’d walked her to her bedroom door and she thought things were going to turn romantic, but they never had. She sighed. He dropped his bravado then. “If you want to.”

Rose bit her lip. “Doctor, I--.”

“It’s okay if you don’t. Two left feet, me.”

“No, you don’t have. You dance nicely. You have the moves.” She lifted his chin and made him meet her eyes. There was such longing in them she almost gasped.

“Only with the right partner.”

“Hope that’s me, then,” she answered softly. “Because I’ve been waiting a long time to dance with you, Doctor.”

“Oh, it is you. It’s definitely you.”

A soft chiming was followed by the sudden materialization of their food on the pedestal. “Let’s eat and then see where the evening takes us,” she told him softly. The Doctor carried the food to the table and they sat down for their meal. Rose never was quite sure what she consumed that night. She knew it was a delicious blending of flavors, but her senses were more fully focused on the man before her, every nerve in her body attuned to him, until she vibrated with the hum of his presence.

“Shall we wait on dessert?” he asked her.

“Depends what’s on the menu,” she said boldly.

“Something sinful, I imagine.”

“Then maybe we should work up an appetite.” The Doctor gave her a heated glance then and she swallowed hard. “What kind of music have they got?”

He thumbed through the catalog of choices and started programming in what he wanted to hear. “Lots of things,” he said. “Good choices.”

“What're you programming it with?” Rose asked curiously.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. His fingers flew over the keys and then he put the computer down on the table. Rose kicked off her shoes and the Doctor removed his and his socks.

“Should I take off my stockings?” she asked.

“Moss’ll turn ‘em green if you don’t,” he replied.

Rose propped one foot up on her chair and slowly pulled her skirt up to mid thigh. She unfastened the little garters that were holding the stocking to her leg and heard an audible swallow from the Doctor. She didn’t look up at him, instead slowly easing the sheer fabric down the length of her leg. She repeated the process, this time her eyes firmly on him. His gaze was riveted by what she was doing. When she completed the task his deep blue orbs locked on her soft amber ones.

The Doctor’s breathing seemed to be out of control. His nostrils were flaring and he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. She folded up the stockings and set them on top of her shoes and then smiled at him. “All ready,” she told him.

He rose and held out his hand to her. She took it and walked onto the soft moss with him. She burst into a huge smile when a slowed down version of "In the Mood" emerged from hidden speakers in the bower. Instead of the fast-paced jazz they’d first danced to, it was an instrumental version that was almost sensual in it’s gentler pace.

She smiled happily up at him and melted into his arms. The Doctor held her close to him and she could hear both his hearts under her ear, the double thump thud thumping of their own syncopated rhythm a nice counterpoint to the song. She breathed in deep the scent of him. She loved his smell, loved burying her face in the essence of him, honey, sage, cinnamon, leather (whether he wore it or not, it clung) and the faint tinge of engine oil.

The song ended and she made to pull out of his arms but his arms tightened around her and another song started. She recognized it by the opening strains. She was surprised to find songs from her own era on a planet so far in the future, even if it was a human one. Then again, it was beautifully romantic in a way that could stand the tests of time. It was shocking how it was almost specific to her and the Doctor. She started when she realized he was singing it in her ear, his husky voice blending well with the original singer’s.

“Seems to matter what I do,
So I’m saving this for you,
Cause it seems to be the last peace there is
And you haven’t had a chance yet to taste this
Fragments of a life you shouldn’t miss.”

Tears came into her eyes and she clutched the lapels of his suit in her hands.

“Seems to matter what I say,
So I’ll hold my tongue at bay,
And rather use my mouth to kiss your frown away
So your doubts no longer darken your day
So you can hold your head up high come what may.
So please remember that I’m gonna follow through,
All the way.
All the way.”

She thought about each and every time he’d kissed her frowns away, her doubts and her fears. True they had been kisses on her forehead, against her hair and a time or two on her cheek. So far they’d never fallen on her lips. But she had hope now, so much hope for this. His chest vibrated and his lovely baritone voice continued in her ear.

“Cause it seems no matter where I go,
I will always let you know,
That the place where I am is never far,
You know you’re not alone, don’t be alarmed,
I’ll find you no matter where you are
So please remember that I’m gonna follow through
All the way.”

His hands moved against her back during the poignant piano solo, one hand sliding into her hair, the other rubbing circles beneath her shoulder blades. If she hadn’t already been in love with him, singing to her like this, his amazing tenderness would have clinched it.

“Oh, my love, if it’s all that I can do,
I’ll take the fall for you
Cause I will soar when I lay down with you
And give my all for you.”

He repeated the final verse and the music slowly died away. She waited for another song to come on but when it didn’t she pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were full of emotion and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. “That was beautiful,” she told him sincerely. “You’ve got a lovely voice.”

He brushed the back of his first two fingers across her lips and down across her chin. “No one’s ever sung to me before.” When he didn’t reply she asked him quietly, “Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” he said. He moistened his lips and his eyes fell to hers. His head dipped slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. Instead she raised her face, tilting her head at a better angle. Their lips met in only the lightest of touches, a feather soft brushing of great delicacy, before he pulled her closer and his mouth settled more firmly on hers.

His lips were soft, gentle against hers and delightfully welcome. He kept the kiss easy, didn’t try to push for more and though she would have parted easily if his tongue had sought invitation into her mouth, he did not. He pulled back and she swayed for a moment, then blinked. She didn’t remember shutting her eyes.

“I have a confession to make, Rose,” he told her.

“Yeah?”

“I heard you singing earlier. In the TARDIS.” Rose blushed furiously as she realized just exactly what he meant. If she had any illusions that he hadn’t realized what she’d been singing exactly, he shattered them with his next words. “About me, I mean. The Doctor songs.” She didn’t say anything. She wasn’t upset by his invasion of her privacy so much as she was embarrassed.

“Made what I was planning to do today that much easier,” he told her. “Because I got to bring you here, to this place, knowing already that you felt more for me than I’d ever dared to hope for.” He raised her chin and made her meet his even gaze. “To be fair, Rose, you should know that I feel…I…I want more than to just date you. My feelings are…they are…they’re like yours.”

“Yeah?” she breathed softly.

“Yeah.” He leaned in and kissed her again, this time his tongue seeking permission against her lips. She opened beneath the gentle onslaught and his cool tongue slipped into the warmth of her mouth. He explored her leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world at their disposal. Of course, in so many ways they did. Her hand crept up to his head and her fingers stroked through the close cropped brown hair, soft like fuzz and lovely beneath her touch.

It was several minutes before they broke the kiss for more than a gasp or two of air, but finally Rose pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. “As lovely as this has been,” she tells him, “if you feel the same way about me that I feel about you, then I think you should take me back to the TARDIS.”

“No dessert?” he asked her.

“Oh, yes, dessert. Just nothing that’s on the menu.”

As her full meaning hit him his eyes widened. “Are you sure, Rose? That’s a big step. There’s no coming back from it. Not with me.”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

“We can walk back. Waiting for the horse and carriage will take too long.” They gathered up their shoes and Rose grabbed her stockings. “Diadora,” the Doctor said and the privacy bubble evaporated at the sound of the password. They clasped hands and walked barefoot along the bricks. “Our driver said the diadora was the prettiest and rarest rose on Prometheus, but he was wrong,” the Doctor told her.

“He was?” Rose asked.

“He was. Because the rarest, the prettiest rose on Prometheus, is you, Rose Tyler. You are the true diadora.” Rose smiled up at him and hugged his arm tightly to her.

“Thank you,” she said because she couldn’t think of anything else and perhaps, from the way his eyes glowed when he looked at her, there really was nothing else that needed to be said.

It didn’t take them long to reach the building portion of the restaurant, as they were walking rather quickly, and the Doctor swiftly settled their bill. From there it was a quick walk back to the TARDIS. Once inside the Doctor sent them into the Vortex and then turned back to her. He took her hand and led her down the corridor towards his bedroom and towards their future. Together.

Ch. 4:  http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/157483.html

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yum - dessert please!

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The Prettiest Rose on Prometheus (3/4)

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