Doctor Who Fic: Universal Realignment (6/8)

[butterfly]

Story Title: Universal Realignment
Author: butterfly
Summary: The Doctor takes Martha and Jack for a trip before the final scenes of "Last of the Time Lords".
Pairing: Doctor/Rose
Rating: PG-13.
Warning: AU after Doctor Who 3x13 - "Last of the Time Lords".
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Doctor Who and the BBC.

Previous parts: One; Two; Three; Four; Five.

Universal Realignment

His head was uncharacteristically fuzzy as he pulled out of sleep, but he was so comfortably warm that it didn't particularly bother him. His head shifted on his soft pillow and he became aware of a slow, deep thrum and an odd sensation of movement.

He blinked and the fog cleared away from his head in a rush.

 

He'd fallen asleep in her room. Which he must have done dozens of times since he'd lost her, so that was nothing strange, but this new variable…

 

He'd set the measure of his life by this sound once, thrilling when he heard the beat accelerate because that always meant that he could look over and see a blindly happy grin and the sweetest, most sparkling pair of eyes he'd encountered in all of time and space.

 

He breathed in, deeply, and he could smell twenty-first century fabric softener, a hint of soap, and the clean and sharp and overwhelmingly familiar scent of her sweat. His head lifted and fell on its cushion, slightly and evenly. Asleep, then. She'd fallen asleep while guarding his dreams.

 

He curled his fingers around a bit of fabric – her trousers – and rubbed against it, marking it down in his memory. This was what she was wearing, this day when she'd come back to him. He dared to lift his head a bit and allowed himself to look.

 

Starting at her feet, which were very reasonably clad in black, low-heeled boots that looked durable and comfortable for running at top speeds, he continued upward to note that her trousers were black and wider at the foot than the knee. The bright pink blanket that she'd managed to wind around her legs was twisted around her right shin in a way that looked potentially crippling if she tried to escape the bed without first disentangling herself. Her trousers were topped off with a sensible black belt that, nonetheless, did not appear to actually be needed for the traditional duties one used a belt for – her clothes seemed fitted enough to stay up on their own.

 

There was, at this point, a small sliver of warm-toned skin on view, just below her shirt's hemline. He hovered his fingertips over the gap, the heat of her body pouring through him. Finally stroking her skin was like reconnecting a circuit – energy flooded into his body and he shivered.

 

He left his hand where it was and lifted his gaze higher. Her shirt wasn't black, though it had appeared that way on first glance, but was rather a deep, dark red that reminded him of blood drops welling up from a puncture wound. It was just a normal shirt, with a neckline that was neither cleavage-baring low nor high enough to kiss her neck. The jacket that she was wearing over it was blue and slightly shiny, made of some fake leather product.

 

The edge of a chain glimmered around her neck, heavy and long enough to be barely visible, and he couldn't resist the temptation to straighten up a bit and shift over so that he could slide his other hand under that chain and slowly pull it out to reveal what she was wearing so close to her heart.

 

Her TARDIS key.

 

He pulled it out properly and then settled it down over her chest where it lay neatly against one of her soft curves. She'd kept it with her, always ready. He could feel his tight, satisfied smile at the thought. Eight years gone and there he was, lying next to her heart.

 

She seemed thinner, which made something in one of his hearts clench. Chips, he decided. They would go somewhere for chips and he would make her laugh and he would watch her chew up deep-fried potatoes and he would attempt to steal one of them and she would smack his hand lightly to keep him away.

 

The skin of her neck seemed unbearably fragile and he could see her pulse beat and he watched as her throat moved slightly as she breathed in and out. Her hair was everywhere – under her head and wrapped around her neck and fluffed up and impossibly adorable. He'd seen her like this far too rarely, before. From today onwards, he would have to make a habit of being around her before she woke up.

 

She still wore ridiculously large hoop earrings. Gold, to match her hair, which was still bleached a color that it hadn't been naturally in all the years she'd known him. It was strange, how comforting those traces of normality were. She'd missed him, but she'd kept on dying her hair and putting on hugely impractical earrings.

 

She'd stopped using as much mascara, though, he noticed. He reached up and brushed her hair off of her face – the strands were slightly oily and he knew that meant that she would immediately run off for the shower when she woke up. She'd never believed him when he told her that he liked her hair better when she hadn't washed it for a while, though she'd humored him a time or two.

 

Her eyebrows were as dark and neatly arched as ever – he traced the lines of them lightly, feeling each tiny hair brush against his skin. He continued mapping her face with his fingers – the bump of her nose and the swell of her mouth. Her lower lip was pouting out slightly in her sleep and he could feel air pass by his hand as she inhaled and exhaled through both her nose and mouth. There was a faint whistling sound that accompanied this.

 

Yet, as lovely as Rose's parts were on their own, he already felt himself longing for her to open up those big eyes of hers and stretch her mouth into a welcoming smile.

 

He carefully placed his hands onto the bed on either side of her shoulders and leaned over, lightly pressing his closed mouth against hers. She sighed into him but remained obstinately asleep. He parted his lips slightly, slipping his tongue out to touch against her mouth. He could taste… peppermint, possibly the remains of tea, and the metallic chalky taste that all humans had, whether they were eighteenth century courtesans, twenty-first century shopgirls, or fifty-first century Time Agents. One of the lads that he'd gone to school with had claimed to have kissed a human once and he'd compared it to licking a computer screen.

 

In the Doctor's opinion, that boy had never tasted a computer or a human in his life.

 

With his mouth on hers, the Doctor could skim the very top of Rose's sleeping mind, and he caught a glimpse of his own smiling face and his hands touching her in those human-sensitive places.

 

He felt her mouth curve up at the corners, but her breathing stayed even and true.

 

It was, he felt, decidedly unfair of her to be all soft and accessible and yet completely unavailable. He pulled away from her mouth with a huff and then turned over to settle down next to her, her body letting off that delicious heat through all those layers of clothing.

 

The TARDIS was making unsettled noises around them and he stroked Rose's arm lightly. They would have to deal with that once Rose woke up – Jack probably wouldn't let them avoid the subject.

 

Still, Rose was here and she was warm and that made all of this worth it.

 

For a time, he drifted off again into sleep, lightly and dreamlessly. When he woke again, it was because he could feel Rose stirring next to him. He slowly shifted up to a sitting position, not wanting to miss the moment when she realized that she'd really done it… again. She'd come back to him.

 

She made a soft, sleepy noise, her head turning toward her own shoulder. One of her hands brushed up against her mouth and her body arched for a short moment and he could see the lines of her… not brassiere, Rose was a twenty-first century Londoner… her bra through the fabric of her shirt. It was, as were all things related to Rose's body, inexplicably fascinating.

 

The room shook around them and Rose's nose scrunched up as she opened her eyes.

 

"The ground's shaking," she said and then her gaze sharpened as it fixed on him. Everything about her changed – her pupils dilated, her heart rate increased, her breathing quickened, her lips parted. Classic human sexual responses. The Doctor hummed happily, wondering if she'd noticed that his fingers were pressed against her stomach. "Are… are we in the TARDIS?"

 

"Safe and sound," he confirmed.

 

"You seem to be feeling better." Her voice had dropped slightly in pitch, rumbling in the back of her throat. He flexed his fingers, stroking against delicate hairs and soft skin – her breath caught and her gaze flicked down to where he was touching her. This was something new for them. He thought that they'd been on the cusp of this, before Torchwood, but during those eternal days without her, he had begun to fear that the spark between them had been nothing more than a dirty old man's fantasy. It hadn't seemed believable, that someone as fresh and bright as Rose could want to share her… joy with him.

 

"A little bit of sleep did the trick nicely," he said. He wondered if Rose would consider him too forward if he suggested they start removing clothing. He'd never had sex with a twenty-first century human woman. Were males still supposed to be the aggressors or had that gone out of fashion along with petticoats? Humans changed their notions about what constituted acceptable sexual practices far too frequently. No one could be reasonably expected to keep up.

 

Rose was smiling at him, her lovely, slightly crooked teeth biting down on her lower lip. He blinked and then tried to regain his previous train of thought. Something about petticoats?

 

"I was having an odd dream," she said. "I was caught in an earthquake and the only way out was in a direction that I desperately didn't want to take."

 

"Ah." The Doctor tried to think of a reasonable explanation that might lead to a mutually pleasurable activity rather than to a less enjoyable conversation with Jack and Martha.

 

Unfortunately, before he could think of one, the TARDIS shook again.

 

"That's the TARDIS," Rose said, her head tilting. "But we should still be on that planet. And the TARDIS would protect us if the planet were having an earthquake. Like inertial dampeners, you said."

 

"If you ignore the fact that my ship is brilliant and real and inertial dampeners are an impossible science-fiction invention," the Doctor protested. He dimly recalled using the phrase himself in a previous regeneration, but he was fairly certain that he'd been an arrogant git back then, so it clearly didn't count. "It's a fairly important qualifier."

 

"Works well enough for an analogy," Rose said, with a dismissive hand-wave. "We shouldn't be feeling anything, is my point."

 

"Oh, right. Yes," the Doctor said. "Quite right. Galtia Six could be tearing itself to pieces under us and the TARDIS wouldn't budge – it's not placed on the planet's actual surface but on the place where it knows the planet's surface should be. Works in all but the most extreme circumstances."

 

"Like being in orbit around a black hole."

 

"Or in the face of certain kinds of alien technology," the Doctor added.

 

"So, what extreme circumstances are we facing now?" Rose asked, but she'd easily pushed up and out of the bed before the Doctor could even open his mouth. She didn't expect him to know already.

 

Well, naturally she didn't. He was uncomfortably aware that Rose believed that he was a very good man. While he was quite often a great man, he was a good man much less frequently.

 

She was already headed out of the room, so the Doctor reluctantly put his previous thoughts on hold and hurried after her.

 

Hopefully, they would be able to sort out this mess without too much fuss.

---

Part Seven

Comments

[shinyopals.livejournal.com]

Loved his assessment of her sleeping, it was so sweet and intimate.

Am extremely amused by the computer screen comment, as well as his mental ramblings about petticoats and suchlike!

Looking forward the the next bit!

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm really happy that the Doctor's voice is working for you!

[the-lucky-stars.livejournal.com]

I've just caught up with all six chapters of this fic - it's absolutely lovely!

I really enjoy the way you write; plus you've got the voices of Rose, Ten, Martha and Jack spot on. Looking forward to more.

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I'm thrilled that you think the voices are working. Yay!

[jic]

Awww!

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

Thank you!