for doctorsplusone: A What-if for RS Verse (AU)

[rude_not_ginger]

It had been twenty years.

Twenty years since they first landed in London with the communicators. Twenty years since he'd re-met his Rose. Twenty years since he'd entered this universe.

And no escape. Not yet. Oh, there was a brief reprise, five years earlier, when he'd taken one last trip back to France. But other than that, it was London. London all the time. Traveling to find clues to figure out how to save the universe, but the universe wasn't having any of that saving business.

And there he was. In London. In his silver-tree-shaped TARDIS. Alone.

Reinette had died. Five years earlier. Lived much longer than they'd expected, and as she started to wither, he and Louis took her back to France, to die in the palace. Where she wasn't supposed to die, of course. Being a non-noble. But she was loved by a King and a lonely God. That was enough of a title for them. Louis stayed in France to tend to her. To make sure her grave was not lost in their universe as it was in the one the Doctor returned to.

Suzie left far earlier. Found her own calling or some such nonsense. Or maybe she was simply tired of the domestics. Now, he was simply alone. He'd gotten used to it, by now. It had become the norm these last five years as dressing in French silks had become the norm in the three years he spent in France before coming here.

He sat in a chair outside the TARDIS, looking over new information. The neverending war against the cosmic apocalypse that seemed to never come. The sonic screwdriver twirled in one hand. A gift from Reinette to the Doctor many, many years earlier. Helped made by Ted. How long had he blamed Ted for Reinette's death? Too long, he decided.

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[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

All her good intentions of 'just friends', 'being supportive' and remaining 'over him' flew right out the bloody window. Well, the door. The TARDIS didn't really have windows as such.

He felt exactly as she remembered -- strong, wiry, a little too thin to be cuddly, and slightly dangerous.

"I'll have to keep you in line, then," Rose breathed, post-kiss. Or pre-second-kiss, depending on how you looked at it. In the kissing gap, at least.

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"Well, you're exceptionally good at that, you know." The hand that cupped her face tangled in her hair as he kissed her again. The hand that held his cane let it fall to the side so he could wrap an arm around her waist.

She felt the same. Warm, soft but unbending, and aching of what he shouldn't have, even as a lonely widower.

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She caught the cane automatically, steadying it against the counter to save it from clattering down to the floor. It was as if she'd been doing it for years, and maybe she had. Maybe not literally that, but catching what he dropped and might need and keeping it safe...

It was a good kiss, but when she was done, she nuzzled him gently and pulled back. "Someone's got to keep you in line, don't they? I do what I can."

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She caught the cane as if it were nothing. Another vice of his she took care of. Bloody woman, waltzing in and trying to make things right.

He didn't cling to her as she pulled back, though he thought about it. Begging her not to leave, though the immaturity in that act would've been incredible, and she was at least pulling away maturely. He could do the same.

"Where are you staying, while you're here?" He could only assume that at some point she'd be going back. "Figured I'd offer you a room here before Thete tries to catch you first."

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"That an offer, Gorgeous?" Big, flirty mega-watt grin and wicked little purr -- out, before she could even think better of it.

Oops.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Her flirty grin was returned with a wide grin of his own. He hadn't grinned like that in a long time. Nearly five years, actually. It felt like an old friend he'd missed.

"Well, you know. Big old TARDIS, never been very good at taking care of places myself. Got a vacancy for tea-lady, but seeing as you have no tea-lady experience..."

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The reply on the tip of her tongue was absolute proof she'd been around Jack Harkness for too bloody long. 'Pay her way in sexual favours' indeed.

She just laughed, ducking her head and not saying anything for fear of that coming out of her mouth.

(It was good to see him smile.)

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She laughed, and the TARDIS in his mind was so completely confused by the sound after all these years of silence.

"And," he added, "I have a spaceship that goes just 'round anywhere, a sonic screwdriver that sounds like a goat, and having you here would give me a monopoly on brilliance. This place could use that."

How long had it been since he'd tried to charm anyone? He hoped he wasn't too terribly out of practice.

[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

She caught his chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh, I suppose we could give it a go again, you and me. Once upon a time, we were pretty fantastic as I recall."

That wicked smile still played on her lips -- the naughty remark, the look on his face if she'd say it, and the little voice in her head (shut up, Jack) daring her to say it and see.

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"That we were," the Doctor replied. They were also combustible, angry, tragic, violent, and sometimes downright cruel. But the fantastic that covered it all made up for it, in his mind.

Was that spot on the soft flesh behind her ear still sensitive? He moved as if to brush her hair aside and let his thumb trace it, gauging her reaction.

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The wicked grin fell from her lips in an instant, a perfect little 'oh' of surprise forming there instead. Suddenly-heavy eyelids dropped shut for the second's surprised sensitivity and then opened again about half-way to meet his gaze.

"Still haven't learned how to play fair, Doctor?" Rose rumbled out, letting her voice echo gravelly in her throat.

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The wickedness had fallen from his own lips, replaced by curiosity and concentration. His single finger turned into two, that lightly traced from the flesh behind her ear down her throat, stopping just at the collarbone.

Memories returned of touching her before. Kissing her neck and knowing how she would move. It had been too long.

"It's not a benefit to play fair if I'm not entirely certain that I'm going to win," he said, the smile returning.

[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

"What is it, exactly, that you want to win?" she asked, and then amended her sentence with a slightly-mangled Gallifreyan endearment that she'd never quite learned to pronounce correctly.

Nonetheless, she tipped her head back for him, baring her throat to his explorations.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The words weren't perfect, but her attempt made him smile. His fingertip traced the hollow of her throat, then back down to her sternum.

"Haven't quite figured that out, just yet," he said, though his words were more quiet. "You're far from a delirium, that's for certain."

He leaned forward just once, and pressed a slow kiss to that sensitive flesh behind her ear.

[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

Rose groaned at the little kiss -- and why wasn't she putting a stop to this? she had some perfectly good 'just friends' intentions for this leg of their relationship and he was bloody dismantling them before her very eyes -- and guided him to sit down on the bed. To rest his leg. (Right.)

She perched beside him, untying the little ribbon that kept his queue tidy and pulled back and ran her hands through his hair. She missed his crazy stand-straight-up short hair, but this would do.

"Let me know when you figure it out, hm?"

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He nodded. "You'll be the first to know." She was always disarming, and always brought out the rather roguish brute in him. Not that he wasn't a rogue in general, but he was even more so when around her. He'd long since convinced himself he was a master at the art of seduction, but Rose made him feel as if he needed a bit more practice.

He purred out his own Gallifreyan endearment. Her fingers through his hair, his hand touching her skin. They were never very god at staying out of trouble, the two of them.

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"That sounds like a growl," Rose observed, grinning and growling out her own attempted echo of what he'd called her. (She liked it when he growled: it just did things to her.) And then again, to try and get it right. "What's it mean?"

If this had been the last time they were together, she'd have crawled into his lap. Now, she wasn't sure she could do that without hurting him.

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"It's a complex word," he explained, saying it again against her neck this time. "It's the equivalent of 'lover', but with the added notation that the lover has a certain mark of control over the speaker. Basically I'm telling you that you drive me mad."

He slid a hand down to her hip to lead her towards him. He'd been so long with his leg that he'd forgotten she didn't know about it.

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That, Rose thought, was one of the most deliciously sexy things she'd heard in a long, long time -- and that was really saying something. "Say it again?" she begged, following the motion and allowing him to draw her closer -- but holding herself back for fear of hurting him. He'd not really explained all the injuries to her...

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He growled the word again, this time ending it with several syllables that added that the endearment was forever and turned the end growl into a purr.

But she was holding back. Too soon, perhaps? They'd only just re-found each other, maybe he had gone too far. He was never one for knowing boundaries or tact.

He said something he thought she might remember. The Gallifreyan equivalent of "I want you", purred against her ear.

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Oh, she remembered, alright. And, as ever, hearing him purr like that went straight to her head, her heart and her groin. An age-old hunger, never saited, returned full-force.

But there was still the matter of his injuries...

And there were ways around them.

Dragging his lower lip sensually between her teeth as she pulled away, Rose slithered down his body. She ran her hands over his thighs -- one part copping a feel, one part testing him for injuries -- and then back up to the fastenings of his trousers. She didn't hesitate, deftly undoing them and slipping one small hand inside to firmly and tenderly cup him.

"I want you, too." Her Gallifreyan had mostly deserted her: she needed a refresher.

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His left thigh was somewhat thinner than his right from muscle deformation, but he didn't jump or react to her hands touching him there. The pain was a throb if anything at all, and he'd long since learned to suppress it.

As for her next motion, the rest of the lower half of his body jerked to life in response, and he growled again---not a word, just a growl. He cupped one of her breasts with a hand and pinched a nipple between two fingertips.

How long had he desired her, like this? So long, though before many things kept them apart. Now, it took one trip into his bedroom before they fell into bed together. Years and years worth of want.

[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

A wicked gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him -- briefly diverted as his touch: she groaned deeply -- her quick, clever, careful hands pulled his trousers down his hips just enough.

Then her mouth replaced her hands and she finally got a taste of what she'd been craving for fifteen years.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

At another point in his life he might've cried out in surprise, might've tried to woo her rather than give into primal desires. As it was, he let his head drop back and his hand tangle in her hair at the feel of her mouth.

"Rose." Her name came out in a gasp of pleasure.

[doctorsplusone.livejournal.com]

She smiled up at him -- well, twinkled impishly -- and said nothing, preferring to roll her tongue against the length of him, seeking out the places that would make him gasp. Her eyes remained on his face, but still, she said nothing.

It was rude to talk with your mouth full, after all.