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The Boundaries of Consent (2/3)
Jun. 15th, 2008 07:08 am
Chapter One: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/82661.h
Chapter Two
( Read more... )
The Boundaries of Consent (2/3)
Jun. 15th, 2008 07:08 am
Chapter One: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/82661.h
Chapter Two
( Read more... )The Boundaries of Consent (1/3)
Jun. 14th, 2008 08:15 am
A/N: I'll be getting back to the other stories soon now that my FIL is out of danger and I can actually concentrate again. Meanwhile, here's what I've been working on the past few days. It's a possessive!Nine/Rose smut!fic for Lillibet that I was supposed to write in July when my kids went to summer camp, but the plot bunnies bit early and well, here we go. No smut until chapter two, though. It's unbeta'd so if you find any mistakes do be sure to let me know so I can fix them. I've proofed it, but you know how it goes. It wasn't supposed to have a plot, but well, one kind of snuck in there anyway. Surprise cameo characters brought it with them and I promise it's only a little one. Also as you may surmise from the title, Nine pushes the consent issue a little before he gets an actual yes from Rose. If that sort of thing bothers you, run along.
Chapter One
“Doctor?” Rose asked coming into the control room with a slightly embarrassed look on her face. “Can you help with these buttons? I got the ones on the front, but the ones down the waist in back I can’t quite reach.”
( Read more... )He was glad the back scooped the way it did or she’d have had to wear another stupid corset like the last time she’d dressed up and that had been way too early in their relationship for her to even think about asking him for help with. She’d taken a ridiculously long amount of time getting ready because of that corset. Not that it hadn’t done marvelous things for her figure when she’d finally sorted it out, but if she’d asked him today for help with a corset it just might have undone him. He’d worked too hard to keep his attraction to her hidden to fall apart over a few little buttons and a slightly uncomfortable pair of jeans.
The little sound of impatience she made told the Doctor that he did up the buttons a bit more slowly than she had expected him to, but then he had very large fingers and the buttons were quite small and if he went any faster he might tear the dress and she’d get the wrong idea and think him a dirty old man and demand to go home and that just could not be allowed to happen. When he was done he smoothed the fabric down gently, stopping just short of her bum, his fingers aching to slide just a little further. “All done,” he said in a slightly gravelly voice. He cleared his throat as she righted herself. “Let’s see you,” he said. She twirled about in the dress and then stood facing him, the hands on her hips only managing to enhance her figure in the dress.
“Well?” she asked with a giggle. “How do I look? It’s a very pretty dress, isn’t it? I wasn’t sure about the fit, though.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “It’s…very pretty.” His eyes looked over the dark blue velvet fabric of the bodice, the swirling taffeta of the skirt and tiny cap sleeves. “And it fits quite well.” Rose blushed as he ran his eyes appraisingly over her figure, but she didn’t say anything when his gaze met hers again.
“Aren’t you going to change?” she asked him. “It’s a ball. You can’t just wear that, can you? People will notice.”
“People are stupid, Rose. They see what they want to see. Besides, they’ll all be looking at you.” She looked up at him in surprise. “The dress,” he amended. “Like you said, it’s pretty. And so is the girl in it. No one’s going to be looking at this daft old face or what I’m wearing when they can be looking at a lovely young woman.”
Rose smiled happily at his compliment. Last time he’d complimented her he’d put a qualifier on it. This time he simply said it and he saw the pleasure she got from the simple words of approval. He didn’t tell her the whole truth, of course, that she looked utterly exquisite. And horribly tempting. “Thank you, Doctor. And I happen to like that face. Shall we go, then?” she asked him. He grinned at her and offered her his arm. Without hesitation she took it. She was getting more and more comfortable with him now that they’d been travelling together for a few weeks and though she was used to it being her hand he held, she seemed to rather like tucking her arm into his.
“I feel a bit like a fairytale princess being escorted to the ball,” she told him giddily.
“I’m no prince, Rose.”
She bumped her hip into his and said, “Oh, I don’t know. You have certain princely qualities.” His hearts warmed for a moment at her assessment, before she gave him a mischievous look. “And if the ears fit…”
“Oi!” he said indignantly.
She reached up with her free hand and stroked his ear softly. He tried not to lean into the touch. “I think I’ve become rather attached to them, though. And you know what they say about men with large ears.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“No, Rose. What do they say?” he called her on it, looking at her intently, and she blushed fiercely. She was saved only by the fact that they’d arrived at the entry to the grand hall and the doorman was demanding an invitation.
The Doctor used what was now becoming the familiar trick of presenting his psychic paper, only acquired the week before he met Rose, as an invitation to enter what he’d earlier confessed to her was the biggest celebration of the turn of the 24th century into the 25th on planet Earth. The party had been in full swing for a week, culminating in the New Year’s Eve Ball tonight and everyone who was anyone in the Nine Star League was in attendance. Most of them looked human or at least vaguely humanoid and she took it almost in stride now when people were blue or green or yellow.
He was proud of her, the way she seemed to handle things so easily now. He watched her while she surveyed the throng of sometimes gaudily and sometimes beautifully dressed people as they surged through the room. For a moment she had that look of wonder on her face that he desperately wanted to see directed at him again. The first time she’d done it, looked at him that way, it had almost stopped his hearts in their tracks. She had teased him about thinking he was impressive, but it was obvious that she’d thought he was, too. She was already more than his plus one. He wanted to be more than just her Mr. Impressive.
And then she was turning that look on him expectantly and asking him to dance and his courage suddenly failed him. Because holding her in his arms that closely would not allow him to keep up the pretense that he was only interested in her as a travelling companion. He’d even had to be careful about hugging her the last week or so, his body had been reacting to her presence so strongly. If he held her body now as he wanted desperately to do, as he’d have to in the dances of this time period, there’d be no hiding his state of excitement from her.
Instead he steered her over to the wall and talked to her. The Doctor could tell she wasn’t thrilled with that move, the little moue of disappointment she made with her lovely mouth told him that. But she listened as he talked, and for a while seemed to be enjoying herself, cracking smiles at his comments and keeping her arm firmly nestled in the crook of his, her hip against his thigh, occasionally leaning her head against his shoulder. Eventually, though her attention wandered. He tried to bring it back upon himself, but with so much to compete with, he easily became aware of the moment he lost it completely. She wanted to dance. And he couldn’t seem to remember how.
Rose had thought the Doctor was taking her here to dance. She’d thought it was, well, certainly not a date, they weren’t really like that despite the flirting and abundant natural chemistry between them, but a function they were going to be participating in together. She’d thought, judging from the lean, rangy look of him that he might be rather good at dancing and she’d hoped that he’d relax just that little bit that he sometimes did when he dropped his guard with her and enjoy himself. Obviously she’d thought wrong. The Doctor had immediately steered her over to the wall and commenced people watching. She was starting to wonder if he only thrived in danger, if ordinary every day fun like dancing simply bored him. Then why bring her here? She wondered if she was starting to bore him, too. She hoped not.
People watching and snide commenting about other people’s outfits seemed all he was inclined to do. Like he should talk, what with his leather and denim and total lack of dressing up for the so-called Blast of the Turning, as the big banner overhead proclaimed it to be. She supposed blast was a play on words as there was an enormous fireworks extravaganza scheduled for midnight. As interesting as people watching was, and as much as she was enjoying the catty but highly accurate comments and the Doctor’s solid, dependable presence beside her, she wanted to dance. The music was enticing and the temptation to sway was nearly irresistible.
“Doctor, can we dance now?” she asked him suddenly, interrupting him mid-snark. She smiled up at him hopefully and for a moment she almost thought he was going to say yes. But then his face closed off and he turned his nose up slightly.
“I’m not dancing.”
“Please?” she asked him. “I thought that’s what we came here for.”
“We came here to experience the culture,” he said.
“And dancing’s not part of the culture?” she wheedled. ““We came here to have fun,” she insisted. “Come on, Doctor. This isn’t fun.”
“Oh, well, now if I’m boring you…”
“That’s not what I meant. I just…don’t you want to dance with me? A girl might think you didn’t like her,” Rose said.
His face blanked on her. “I said no, Rose.” His tone was devoid of warmth and it settled uneasily over her and her grin faltered. She hated when he did that to her.
“I don’t understand you,” she said trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. “I don’t think I ever will. And I think maybe it’s me that’s boring you.” She edged away from him then, trying not to let her upset show as she made her way over to one of the many buffet tables spread with a dazzling array of food and drinks. She wasn’t sure if she felt his eyes on her back or if it was just her imagination. Probably the latter. He wouldn’t have even noticed that he’d made her feel bad. Except…well, sometimes he did.
She shook her head to clear it and took a plate, loading it up on nibbles. If she couldn’t dance, she could at least eat. She took her plate and wandered in a direction that was opposite of the one she’d left the Doctor in, stepping out onto a verandah and gazing up at the stars as she ate. Normally she wouldn’t have eaten such calorie rich food, but since she’d met the Doctor and started running for her life, she could pretty much scarf down whatever she wanted and not worry about her figure.
Rose wondered if there was any way to get the Doctor to change his mind about dancing. She supposed she could find some other person to dance with, someone who’d be willing to actually have fun with her in a non-run-for-your-life sort of way. She might even have a good time. But she wanted to dance with him. She enjoyed the Doctor’s company when he wasn’t being moody and she’d thought he was in a great mood when they’d left the TARDIS. Usually he wasn’t quite this mercurial in his mood swings.
She fretted a bit, wondering what had brought it on this time. He’d seemed fine, happy even, as they’d made their way into the hall and even as they’d been talking. It was only when she’d asked him to dance that he’d closed off. Was it possible he thought she was coming on to him? She had made that flirty comment about the size of his ears after all, told him he had princely qualities, told him she liked his face. He was quite strict about the boundaries between them, despite his hugging, and hand-holding and forehead kissing.
She’d be embarrassed if he thought that’s what she’d been up to. It hadn’t been like that. She felt safe with him, felt safe having his arms around her. And at least if she were dancing with him, she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting all handsy on the dance floor like some of the more liberal inhabitants of this century might do. Rose didn’t fancy some stranger trying to feel her up. She could relax with the Doctor, let her guard all the way down and not worry about him having a sexual interest in her. Unless…well, no. That couldn’t possibly be the problem. Could it?
Great, thought the Doctor, I’ve gone and driven her away from me. He watched her go with hot eyes, watched as the men in the crowd turned to follow her with their eyes and he hated it. How dare any of these men look at Rose as if she were just…available to be looked at?
He told himself to get a grip on his emotions. Rose was not his woman. She was not anything but his travelling companion and friend. He had no rights to her. A few flirtatious comments, a gentle touch or two, her desire to dance with him…that was all just Rose being Rose. He knew that. It would be easy to fool himself into thinking it was more, but he’d have been able to tell if it was. He would have felt her elevated pulse where their arms had been touching. He would have smelled any adrenalin or signs of arousal. Rose didn’t think about him like that.
Of course, he’d done everything he could to foster the idea that he was a father figure, a teacher, an older friend that she could feel safe with, learn from, and that he’d keep her safe. Why would she bother to even look at him? Although, she had touched him in unnecessary ways tonight. The stroke of his ear, the hip bump, her head against his shoulder, the way she’d pressed herself against his side and kept her arm wrapped firmly around his. But if it was more than just simple affection for her alien friend, he should have been able to tell. Unless she was just teasing him.
Could she know how he felt about her? Could she be deliberately teasing him? First with the undone gown that she couldn’t do up on her own, though it hadn’t really looked impossible for her to fasten, just slightly awkward. Then there had been the flirting. Rose was a flirt by nature, but tonight’s flirting had seemed that little bit different, more directed. Was she trying to get him riled up, see what she could do to get him to act out on his emotions so she could turn him away once he confessed his feelings like that school chum of his had done when he had just entered his adolescent years? Then find some other suitor and parade herself around in front of him adding insult to injury? Rose wouldn’t, couldn’t do something like that to him. Could she?
He watched as she took the plate she had filled out to the verandah and thought hard about going after Rose, confronting her about what was really going on. He was about to leave his place by the wall when a red-haired woman, pretty in an unconventional way, joined him by the wall. “Quite the turnout, isn’t it?” she said pleasantly.
“The event of the century,” he said wondering why he suddenly felt an odd tingling and a shifting of time lines around him. He tried to focus on it but became distracted when the woman continued to chat at him.
“Such a happy event for Earth. The final ratification of the Nine Star League took place just last week. The negotiations were very fierce, but in the end everything was sorted out quite nicely.”
“Were they?”
“Yes. My…brother had quite a hand in brokering the accords,” she said nodding across the room to a skinny bloke in a well-fitted tuxedo who was making his way onto the verandah Rose had disappeared onto. “I think they signed it in the end just to get him to shut up. He’s got quite the gob on him,” the woman said.
“Runs in the family, then,” muttered the Doctor.
She tilted her head and gave him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but gave him the impression that if a friend of hers had been that rude to her she would have smacked him. “My name’s Donna,” she said.
“Oh,” he said straining his neck to see if he could actually catch a glimpse outside where Rose had gone.
“And you are?” she asked him.
“Not interested,” he said bluntly turning the full force of his steel blue eyes on her.
She snorted at him, actually snorted. “You may not be just a skinny streak of bacon, there may be something to actually hold onto with you, but I’m still not interested in getting a leg over. I’m just making polite conversation. Well, my end’s polite. Yours, not so much.” She walked away from him then, muttering something about hoping that had been enough time. When he looked back to the verandah, Rose was emerging and…and dancing with…with some man that…did he have a perception filter on him? The Doctor froze. Why couldn’t he make out what the man actually looked like? Something was blocking him. Something that he should recognize, but didn’t.
Since he didn’t sense any actual danger from the man, as long as he could see Rose properly, it wouldn’t do any harm to let her dance and enjoy herself for a while. Well, except to his ego. And his pride. He didn’t want her dancing with anyone but him, but he didn’t have the will to stop her, either. He stood there miserably wondering why he couldn’t have just accepted her offer to dance.
“Beautiful night,” said a voice behind Rose. She jumped a little and the man apologized. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She turned to look at him and smiled when she saw how attractive he was. Tall, about the Doctor’s height, and kind of skinny, though it was hard to see just how much with the tuxedo he was wearing. He looked good in it though, looked good all over, actually, and she thought from the twinkle in his warm brown eyes that he just maybe knew it. His hair was almost the same color as his eyes and when he smiled at her there was something slightly familiar, although she’d never seen the man before in her life. He was far too old for her, not that it mattered. She’d never see him again after tonight anyway, so what did his age matter?
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” he answered and his grin was almost wistful. “Crowd a bit much for you?” he asked.
“Just needed a bit of air,” Rose said politely.
“My name’s John Noble.”
“I’m Rose,” she said automatically.
“Nice to meet you, Rose. I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t dancing.” The sympathy in his eyes startled her.
“Oh, well, no, I wasn’t.”
“Thought it a little odd. You look the sort that can’t get enough of dancing the night away,” he continued.
“I am. But the man I’m here with isn’t,” she explained.
“Your boyfriend brings you to a ball and then won’t dance? That’s a shame. And a waste of a very pretty gown,” he said. “Not to mention the very pretty girl inside it.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said flushing warmly under his compliment. “He’s my…well, whatever he is, we’re not romantic.”
The man smiled wryly. “You sure about that? He sure had his eyes all over you.”
“He likes the dress,” she said flatly. “But he won’t dance.”
“Well, you deserve to dance. And if your…not romantic companion doesn’t want to, then may I offer my services this evening?” he asked her.
“You mean a man as attractive as you are doesn’t have a woman in there waiting for him?” she flirted.
John blushed, but a hint of sadness came into his expression. “I…I had someone. Not too long ago. But I lost her. She loved to dance. We’d been planning on coming here together; it was in remembrance of our first…when we first knew we were…well anyway…she’s gone now. Tonight I came with my sister and she’s got her sights set on an ambassador so I have been abandoned.” He gave himself a visible shake. “Still, there’s music begging our step, Rose, so what do you say?” He looked so lost, and a bit like a puppy dog as he looked hopefully down at her.
“I say I’d love to dance with you, John.” She gave him a smile that seemed to chase the last bit of sadness right out of his eyes and she found a bin to put the empty paper plate into. John held his hand out to her and she slipped hers into it, wondering why it felt so familiar. She shrugged it off a moment later when they slipped into the ball room and the man took her in his arms.
They moved together like they’d been born to dance as partners. The beat of the music was exhilarating and Rose felt herself giving in to the rhythm and sway as she’d so wanted to do earlier with the Doctor. Dancing with John was a nice change from the taciturn formality that she was often treated to with the Doctor, but this man never seemed to stop talking. Not that she minded as he continued to whirl her about the floor, weaving amongst the other revelers, bobbing and dipping and constantly grinning at her like she was the most interesting person he’d ever met and the sole reason for the smile on his face. It was a nice break from moody silences.
On occasion she thought she felt the Doctor’s eyes on her, but whenever she turned to search them out, he was always staring steadfastly in a direction other than hers. He seemed tight and uncomfortable in his self-imposed exile against the wall. Well, if he wanted to be a party pooper that was fine, but she was going to enjoy herself. And dancing was helping her do just that. Not that she wouldn’t abandon her charming new partner in a heartbeat if the Doctor would come ask to cut in, but she knew that would never happen.
Still, thoughts of the Doctor fled her head as the dancing continued and John’s hands became more and more familiar with her, daring a bit of intimacy that she couldn’t quite tell if it was on purpose or not, and didn’t quite feel like complaining about either. It was nice to feel wanted, even if she knew she was just a surrogate for his lost love. Sometimes she didn’t feel like the Doctor really wanted her around. Other times she felt like he needed her company desperately. He was just such a confusing mixture of personality traits, it was very hard to sort out just exactly what he was thinking at any given moment.
They paused after about an hour and John steered her over to the refreshments, reaching out and handing her a glass of dark red liquid. “It’s Clorishalin wine, non-alcoholic, but gives a bit of a buzz. Tastes a lot like strawberries and bananas,” he said.
She sipped at it carefully and then rewarded him with a smile. “It’s great.”
He grinned happily at her and took a glass himself. “Could do with a bit more banana,” he said, “but a decent blend, all in all. The fireworks will be starting soon. Do you think your boyfriend, erm, not boyfriend, would mind if you watched them with me? Or, well, would you mind if you watched them with me?”
He looked at her nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. His expression was so hopeful it almost reminded her of a lost little puppy dog. She liked this man a lot. She was so comfortable with him. But she wasn’t sure what his intentions were exactly. And in another hour or two she and the Doctor would be leaving this century behind them. She shouldn’t really get attached to this stranger, no matter how much like a close friend he already seemed to her.
“I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I really need to get back to my friend. He’s probably missing me right about now.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Rose, I…well, I’d really like it if you would spend some more time with me. I don’t think your friend would mind.”
“I’d mind,” said the Doctor’s voice from behind her. She felt his hand gripping her shoulder and turned to look at him.
“Oh, hi, Doctor, this is John. John, this is the Doctor.” She was hoping he’d finally come to cut in and ask her to dance, but she was mistaken.
John took a step back at the thunderous look on the Doctor’s face. “It’s time to go, Rose.”
The Doctor sounded angry and Rose frowned. “Go? But I thought we were staying to see the fireworks.”
“And I thought we were spending the evening together. Seems we were both wrong.” Was he angry? He sounded angry, almost pained even, and his grip on her shoulder was starting to hurt. She shrugged his hand off and he slid it down her arm until he grasped her wrist too tightly. “Let’s go.”
He yanked her arm then and Rose gave a reluctant look at her new friend. “Thank you for the great evening,” she told him.
He smiled at her and said, “You are ever welcome. Good-bye, Rose Tyler.” She didn’t have time to respond as the Doctor pulled her through the crowded room and outside, though she wondered in that moment how the stranger had known her last name when she’d never told him more than her first. She couldn’t wonder long before she had to concentrate on not being completely dragged along.
Chapter Two: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/83112.html
Chapter Two: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/83112.html
The Boundaries of Consent (1/3)
Jun. 14th, 2008 08:15 am
A/N: I'll be getting back to the other stories soon now that my FIL is out of danger and I can actually concentrate again. Meanwhile, here's what I've been working on the past few days. It's a possessive!Nine/Rose smut!fic for Lillibet that I was supposed to write in July when my kids went to summer camp, but the plot bunnies bit early and well, here we go. No smut until chapter two, though. It's unbeta'd so if you find any mistakes do be sure to let me know so I can fix them. I've proofed it, but you know how it goes. It wasn't supposed to have a plot, but well, one kind of snuck in there anyway. Surprise cameo characters brought it with them and I promise it's only a little one. Also as you may surmise from the title, Nine pushes the consent issue a little before he gets an actual yes from Rose. If that sort of thing bothers you, run along.
Chapter One
“Doctor?” Rose asked coming into the control room with a slightly embarrassed look on her face. “Can you help with these buttons? I got the ones on the front, but the ones down the waist in back I can’t quite reach.”
( Read more... )He was glad the back scooped the way it did or she’d have had to wear another stupid corset like the last time she’d dressed up and that had been way too early in their relationship for her to even think about asking him for help with. She’d taken a ridiculously long amount of time getting ready because of that corset. Not that it hadn’t done marvelous things for her figure when she’d finally sorted it out, but if she’d asked him today for help with a corset it just might have undone him. He’d worked too hard to keep his attraction to her hidden to fall apart over a few little buttons and a slightly uncomfortable pair of jeans.
The little sound of impatience she made told the Doctor that he did up the buttons a bit more slowly than she had expected him to, but then he had very large fingers and the buttons were quite small and if he went any faster he might tear the dress and she’d get the wrong idea and think him a dirty old man and demand to go home and that just could not be allowed to happen. When he was done he smoothed the fabric down gently, stopping just short of her bum, his fingers aching to slide just a little further. “All done,” he said in a slightly gravelly voice. He cleared his throat as she righted herself. “Let’s see you,” he said. She twirled about in the dress and then stood facing him, the hands on her hips only managing to enhance her figure in the dress.
“Well?” she asked with a giggle. “How do I look? It’s a very pretty dress, isn’t it? I wasn’t sure about the fit, though.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “It’s…very pretty.” His eyes looked over the dark blue velvet fabric of the bodice, the swirling taffeta of the skirt and tiny cap sleeves. “And it fits quite well.” Rose blushed as he ran his eyes appraisingly over her figure, but she didn’t say anything when his gaze met hers again.
“Aren’t you going to change?” she asked him. “It’s a ball. You can’t just wear that, can you? People will notice.”
“People are stupid, Rose. They see what they want to see. Besides, they’ll all be looking at you.” She looked up at him in surprise. “The dress,” he amended. “Like you said, it’s pretty. And so is the girl in it. No one’s going to be looking at this daft old face or what I’m wearing when they can be looking at a lovely young woman.”
Rose smiled happily at his compliment. Last time he’d complimented her he’d put a qualifier on it. This time he simply said it and he saw the pleasure she got from the simple words of approval. He didn’t tell her the whole truth, of course, that she looked utterly exquisite. And horribly tempting. “Thank you, Doctor. And I happen to like that face. Shall we go, then?” she asked him. He grinned at her and offered her his arm. Without hesitation she took it. She was getting more and more comfortable with him now that they’d been travelling together for a few weeks and though she was used to it being her hand he held, she seemed to rather like tucking her arm into his.
“I feel a bit like a fairytale princess being escorted to the ball,” she told him giddily.
“I’m no prince, Rose.”
She bumped her hip into his and said, “Oh, I don’t know. You have certain princely qualities.” His hearts warmed for a moment at her assessment, before she gave him a mischievous look. “And if the ears fit…”
“Oi!” he said indignantly.
She reached up with her free hand and stroked his ear softly. He tried not to lean into the touch. “I think I’ve become rather attached to them, though. And you know what they say about men with large ears.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“No, Rose. What do they say?” he called her on it, looking at her intently, and she blushed fiercely. She was saved only by the fact that they’d arrived at the entry to the grand hall and the doorman was demanding an invitation.
The Doctor used what was now becoming the familiar trick of presenting his psychic paper, only acquired the week before he met Rose, as an invitation to enter what he’d earlier confessed to her was the biggest celebration of the turn of the 24th century into the 25th on planet Earth. The party had been in full swing for a week, culminating in the New Year’s Eve Ball tonight and everyone who was anyone in the Nine Star League was in attendance. Most of them looked human or at least vaguely humanoid and she took it almost in stride now when people were blue or green or yellow.
He was proud of her, the way she seemed to handle things so easily now. He watched her while she surveyed the throng of sometimes gaudily and sometimes beautifully dressed people as they surged through the room. For a moment she had that look of wonder on her face that he desperately wanted to see directed at him again. The first time she’d done it, looked at him that way, it had almost stopped his hearts in their tracks. She had teased him about thinking he was impressive, but it was obvious that she’d thought he was, too. She was already more than his plus one. He wanted to be more than just her Mr. Impressive.
And then she was turning that look on him expectantly and asking him to dance and his courage suddenly failed him. Because holding her in his arms that closely would not allow him to keep up the pretense that he was only interested in her as a travelling companion. He’d even had to be careful about hugging her the last week or so, his body had been reacting to her presence so strongly. If he held her body now as he wanted desperately to do, as he’d have to in the dances of this time period, there’d be no hiding his state of excitement from her.
Instead he steered her over to the wall and talked to her. The Doctor could tell she wasn’t thrilled with that move, the little moue of disappointment she made with her lovely mouth told him that. But she listened as he talked, and for a while seemed to be enjoying herself, cracking smiles at his comments and keeping her arm firmly nestled in the crook of his, her hip against his thigh, occasionally leaning her head against his shoulder. Eventually, though her attention wandered. He tried to bring it back upon himself, but with so much to compete with, he easily became aware of the moment he lost it completely. She wanted to dance. And he couldn’t seem to remember how.
Rose had thought the Doctor was taking her here to dance. She’d thought it was, well, certainly not a date, they weren’t really like that despite the flirting and abundant natural chemistry between them, but a function they were going to be participating in together. She’d thought, judging from the lean, rangy look of him that he might be rather good at dancing and she’d hoped that he’d relax just that little bit that he sometimes did when he dropped his guard with her and enjoy himself. Obviously she’d thought wrong. The Doctor had immediately steered her over to the wall and commenced people watching. She was starting to wonder if he only thrived in danger, if ordinary every day fun like dancing simply bored him. Then why bring her here? She wondered if she was starting to bore him, too. She hoped not.
People watching and snide commenting about other people’s outfits seemed all he was inclined to do. Like he should talk, what with his leather and denim and total lack of dressing up for the so-called Blast of the Turning, as the big banner overhead proclaimed it to be. She supposed blast was a play on words as there was an enormous fireworks extravaganza scheduled for midnight. As interesting as people watching was, and as much as she was enjoying the catty but highly accurate comments and the Doctor’s solid, dependable presence beside her, she wanted to dance. The music was enticing and the temptation to sway was nearly irresistible.
“Doctor, can we dance now?” she asked him suddenly, interrupting him mid-snark. She smiled up at him hopefully and for a moment she almost thought he was going to say yes. But then his face closed off and he turned his nose up slightly.
“I’m not dancing.”
“Please?” she asked him. “I thought that’s what we came here for.”
“We came here to experience the culture,” he said.
“And dancing’s not part of the culture?” she wheedled. ““We came here to have fun,” she insisted. “Come on, Doctor. This isn’t fun.”
“Oh, well, now if I’m boring you…”
“That’s not what I meant. I just…don’t you want to dance with me? A girl might think you didn’t like her,” Rose said.
His face blanked on her. “I said no, Rose.” His tone was devoid of warmth and it settled uneasily over her and her grin faltered. She hated when he did that to her.
“I don’t understand you,” she said trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. “I don’t think I ever will. And I think maybe it’s me that’s boring you.” She edged away from him then, trying not to let her upset show as she made her way over to one of the many buffet tables spread with a dazzling array of food and drinks. She wasn’t sure if she felt his eyes on her back or if it was just her imagination. Probably the latter. He wouldn’t have even noticed that he’d made her feel bad. Except…well, sometimes he did.
She shook her head to clear it and took a plate, loading it up on nibbles. If she couldn’t dance, she could at least eat. She took her plate and wandered in a direction that was opposite of the one she’d left the Doctor in, stepping out onto a verandah and gazing up at the stars as she ate. Normally she wouldn’t have eaten such calorie rich food, but since she’d met the Doctor and started running for her life, she could pretty much scarf down whatever she wanted and not worry about her figure.
Rose wondered if there was any way to get the Doctor to change his mind about dancing. She supposed she could find some other person to dance with, someone who’d be willing to actually have fun with her in a non-run-for-your-life sort of way. She might even have a good time. But she wanted to dance with him. She enjoyed the Doctor’s company when he wasn’t being moody and she’d thought he was in a great mood when they’d left the TARDIS. Usually he wasn’t quite this mercurial in his mood swings.
She fretted a bit, wondering what had brought it on this time. He’d seemed fine, happy even, as they’d made their way into the hall and even as they’d been talking. It was only when she’d asked him to dance that he’d closed off. Was it possible he thought she was coming on to him? She had made that flirty comment about the size of his ears after all, told him he had princely qualities, told him she liked his face. He was quite strict about the boundaries between them, despite his hugging, and hand-holding and forehead kissing.
She’d be embarrassed if he thought that’s what she’d been up to. It hadn’t been like that. She felt safe with him, felt safe having his arms around her. And at least if she were dancing with him, she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting all handsy on the dance floor like some of the more liberal inhabitants of this century might do. Rose didn’t fancy some stranger trying to feel her up. She could relax with the Doctor, let her guard all the way down and not worry about him having a sexual interest in her. Unless…well, no. That couldn’t possibly be the problem. Could it?
Great, thought the Doctor, I’ve gone and driven her away from me. He watched her go with hot eyes, watched as the men in the crowd turned to follow her with their eyes and he hated it. How dare any of these men look at Rose as if she were just…available to be looked at?
He told himself to get a grip on his emotions. Rose was not his woman. She was not anything but his travelling companion and friend. He had no rights to her. A few flirtatious comments, a gentle touch or two, her desire to dance with him…that was all just Rose being Rose. He knew that. It would be easy to fool himself into thinking it was more, but he’d have been able to tell if it was. He would have felt her elevated pulse where their arms had been touching. He would have smelled any adrenalin or signs of arousal. Rose didn’t think about him like that.
Of course, he’d done everything he could to foster the idea that he was a father figure, a teacher, an older friend that she could feel safe with, learn from, and that he’d keep her safe. Why would she bother to even look at him? Although, she had touched him in unnecessary ways tonight. The stroke of his ear, the hip bump, her head against his shoulder, the way she’d pressed herself against his side and kept her arm wrapped firmly around his. But if it was more than just simple affection for her alien friend, he should have been able to tell. Unless she was just teasing him.
Could she know how he felt about her? Could she be deliberately teasing him? First with the undone gown that she couldn’t do up on her own, though it hadn’t really looked impossible for her to fasten, just slightly awkward. Then there had been the flirting. Rose was a flirt by nature, but tonight’s flirting had seemed that little bit different, more directed. Was she trying to get him riled up, see what she could do to get him to act out on his emotions so she could turn him away once he confessed his feelings like that school chum of his had done when he had just entered his adolescent years? Then find some other suitor and parade herself around in front of him adding insult to injury? Rose wouldn’t, couldn’t do something like that to him. Could she?
He watched as she took the plate she had filled out to the verandah and thought hard about going after Rose, confronting her about what was really going on. He was about to leave his place by the wall when a red-haired woman, pretty in an unconventional way, joined him by the wall. “Quite the turnout, isn’t it?” she said pleasantly.
“The event of the century,” he said wondering why he suddenly felt an odd tingling and a shifting of time lines around him. He tried to focus on it but became distracted when the woman continued to chat at him.
“Such a happy event for Earth. The final ratification of the Nine Star League took place just last week. The negotiations were very fierce, but in the end everything was sorted out quite nicely.”
“Were they?”
“Yes. My…brother had quite a hand in brokering the accords,” she said nodding across the room to a skinny bloke in a well-fitted tuxedo who was making his way onto the verandah Rose had disappeared onto. “I think they signed it in the end just to get him to shut up. He’s got quite the gob on him,” the woman said.
“Runs in the family, then,” muttered the Doctor.
She tilted her head and gave him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but gave him the impression that if a friend of hers had been that rude to her she would have smacked him. “My name’s Donna,” she said.
“Oh,” he said straining his neck to see if he could actually catch a glimpse outside where Rose had gone.
“And you are?” she asked him.
“Not interested,” he said bluntly turning the full force of his steel blue eyes on her.
She snorted at him, actually snorted. “You may not be just a skinny streak of bacon, there may be something to actually hold onto with you, but I’m still not interested in getting a leg over. I’m just making polite conversation. Well, my end’s polite. Yours, not so much.” She walked away from him then, muttering something about hoping that had been enough time. When he looked back to the verandah, Rose was emerging and…and dancing with…with some man that…did he have a perception filter on him? The Doctor froze. Why couldn’t he make out what the man actually looked like? Something was blocking him. Something that he should recognize, but didn’t.
Since he didn’t sense any actual danger from the man, as long as he could see Rose properly, it wouldn’t do any harm to let her dance and enjoy herself for a while. Well, except to his ego. And his pride. He didn’t want her dancing with anyone but him, but he didn’t have the will to stop her, either. He stood there miserably wondering why he couldn’t have just accepted her offer to dance.
“Beautiful night,” said a voice behind Rose. She jumped a little and the man apologized. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She turned to look at him and smiled when she saw how attractive he was. Tall, about the Doctor’s height, and kind of skinny, though it was hard to see just how much with the tuxedo he was wearing. He looked good in it though, looked good all over, actually, and she thought from the twinkle in his warm brown eyes that he just maybe knew it. His hair was almost the same color as his eyes and when he smiled at her there was something slightly familiar, although she’d never seen the man before in her life. He was far too old for her, not that it mattered. She’d never see him again after tonight anyway, so what did his age matter?
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” he answered and his grin was almost wistful. “Crowd a bit much for you?” he asked.
“Just needed a bit of air,” Rose said politely.
“My name’s John Noble.”
“I’m Rose,” she said automatically.
“Nice to meet you, Rose. I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t dancing.” The sympathy in his eyes startled her.
“Oh, well, no, I wasn’t.”
“Thought it a little odd. You look the sort that can’t get enough of dancing the night away,” he continued.
“I am. But the man I’m here with isn’t,” she explained.
“Your boyfriend brings you to a ball and then won’t dance? That’s a shame. And a waste of a very pretty gown,” he said. “Not to mention the very pretty girl inside it.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said flushing warmly under his compliment. “He’s my…well, whatever he is, we’re not romantic.”
The man smiled wryly. “You sure about that? He sure had his eyes all over you.”
“He likes the dress,” she said flatly. “But he won’t dance.”
“Well, you deserve to dance. And if your…not romantic companion doesn’t want to, then may I offer my services this evening?” he asked her.
“You mean a man as attractive as you are doesn’t have a woman in there waiting for him?” she flirted.
John blushed, but a hint of sadness came into his expression. “I…I had someone. Not too long ago. But I lost her. She loved to dance. We’d been planning on coming here together; it was in remembrance of our first…when we first knew we were…well anyway…she’s gone now. Tonight I came with my sister and she’s got her sights set on an ambassador so I have been abandoned.” He gave himself a visible shake. “Still, there’s music begging our step, Rose, so what do you say?” He looked so lost, and a bit like a puppy dog as he looked hopefully down at her.
“I say I’d love to dance with you, John.” She gave him a smile that seemed to chase the last bit of sadness right out of his eyes and she found a bin to put the empty paper plate into. John held his hand out to her and she slipped hers into it, wondering why it felt so familiar. She shrugged it off a moment later when they slipped into the ball room and the man took her in his arms.
They moved together like they’d been born to dance as partners. The beat of the music was exhilarating and Rose felt herself giving in to the rhythm and sway as she’d so wanted to do earlier with the Doctor. Dancing with John was a nice change from the taciturn formality that she was often treated to with the Doctor, but this man never seemed to stop talking. Not that she minded as he continued to whirl her about the floor, weaving amongst the other revelers, bobbing and dipping and constantly grinning at her like she was the most interesting person he’d ever met and the sole reason for the smile on his face. It was a nice break from moody silences.
On occasion she thought she felt the Doctor’s eyes on her, but whenever she turned to search them out, he was always staring steadfastly in a direction other than hers. He seemed tight and uncomfortable in his self-imposed exile against the wall. Well, if he wanted to be a party pooper that was fine, but she was going to enjoy herself. And dancing was helping her do just that. Not that she wouldn’t abandon her charming new partner in a heartbeat if the Doctor would come ask to cut in, but she knew that would never happen.
Still, thoughts of the Doctor fled her head as the dancing continued and John’s hands became more and more familiar with her, daring a bit of intimacy that she couldn’t quite tell if it was on purpose or not, and didn’t quite feel like complaining about either. It was nice to feel wanted, even if she knew she was just a surrogate for his lost love. Sometimes she didn’t feel like the Doctor really wanted her around. Other times she felt like he needed her company desperately. He was just such a confusing mixture of personality traits, it was very hard to sort out just exactly what he was thinking at any given moment.
They paused after about an hour and John steered her over to the refreshments, reaching out and handing her a glass of dark red liquid. “It’s Clorishalin wine, non-alcoholic, but gives a bit of a buzz. Tastes a lot like strawberries and bananas,” he said.
She sipped at it carefully and then rewarded him with a smile. “It’s great.”
He grinned happily at her and took a glass himself. “Could do with a bit more banana,” he said, “but a decent blend, all in all. The fireworks will be starting soon. Do you think your boyfriend, erm, not boyfriend, would mind if you watched them with me? Or, well, would you mind if you watched them with me?”
He looked at her nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. His expression was so hopeful it almost reminded her of a lost little puppy dog. She liked this man a lot. She was so comfortable with him. But she wasn’t sure what his intentions were exactly. And in another hour or two she and the Doctor would be leaving this century behind them. She shouldn’t really get attached to this stranger, no matter how much like a close friend he already seemed to her.
“I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I really need to get back to my friend. He’s probably missing me right about now.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Rose, I…well, I’d really like it if you would spend some more time with me. I don’t think your friend would mind.”
“I’d mind,” said the Doctor’s voice from behind her. She felt his hand gripping her shoulder and turned to look at him.
“Oh, hi, Doctor, this is John. John, this is the Doctor.” She was hoping he’d finally come to cut in and ask her to dance, but she was mistaken.
John took a step back at the thunderous look on the Doctor’s face. “It’s time to go, Rose.”
The Doctor sounded angry and Rose frowned. “Go? But I thought we were staying to see the fireworks.”
“And I thought we were spending the evening together. Seems we were both wrong.” Was he angry? He sounded angry, almost pained even, and his grip on her shoulder was starting to hurt. She shrugged his hand off and he slid it down her arm until he grasped her wrist too tightly. “Let’s go.”
He yanked her arm then and Rose gave a reluctant look at her new friend. “Thank you for the great evening,” she told him.
He smiled at her and said, “You are ever welcome. Good-bye, Rose Tyler.” She didn’t have time to respond as the Doctor pulled her through the crowded room and outside, though she wondered in that moment how the stranger had known her last name when she’d never told him more than her first. She couldn’t wonder long before she had to concentrate on not being completely dragged along.
Chapter Two: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/83112.html
Chapter Two: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/83112.html
