Fic, The Lady in the Fireplace, 20/32: COMING OVER, part II

[loveslashangst]

Story: The Lady in the Fireplace
Author: Melinda Kitty melindakitty
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Reinette, King of France and (eventually) Ninth Doctor
Rated: oh, so Adult for slash, bisexuality, mature content, language, abuse of REALLY good champagne, and lots and lots of sex (multiple pairings/groupings)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, 'cause if I did, Rose would be more BadWolf and less Angst, Ten would post a sign on the door sayin' "If the TARDIS is a rockin', don't come a knockin'", and half of their adventures through time and space would consist of finding new and unusual places to have a juicy shag.
Spoilers: AU, DURING "The Girl in the Fireplace". If you haven't seen the first three series of Doctor Who, you WILL be spoilered. I like to mess with canon. And you have my word that -- despite how this starts -- I'm a passionate Rose/Ten shipper.
Summary: OTP Rose/Ten with a lot of interesting liaisons along the way. So what exactly DID Ten do in Versailles? This French farce will have love, drama, sex, and eventually as close to a happy ending as I can manage. Be forewarned, though, I may take you places that would make RTD's head explode.

On with the show:

In which Nine finally gets to lend Rose a hand and Ten keeps her from going out of her mind.

This being the chapter in which I fell in love with Nine. (Didn’t used to see the attraction. Silly me.)




Nine glares at Ten. “You’ll owe me for this.”

Ten grins again. “And the beauty is I get to collect.”

Nine’s face hardens as his thoughts turn inward. “So how do we do this? Don’t much fancy facing down Reapers again.”

“Scissors, paper, stone,” says Ten.

Nine stares at him like he’s deranged. (She knows how he feels.) “Come again?”

Ten shrugs, logical. “Well, it’s a choice of your TARDIS or mine, so let’s keep things simple.”

Nine looks to her. Jerks a thumb at Ten. “Am I always like this?”

She smiles. Nods. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You and your boyfriends.” He smiles a wink at her. Her heart melts.

“You’re comparing me to Mickey?” says Ten. “Hang on, I think I resent that.”

“Mickey?” Nine gives him a slightly contemptuous look. “You’re worse than Adam, you are.”

That does it. She can’t just stand here anymore. She goes over and throws herself into Nine’s arms. And he smells just like she remembers -- old leather and aftershave and odds and ends and that slightly pungent trace that’s just HIM.

He starts at first. Relaxes. Folds his entire body around her, warm and alive and protective. She clings to him like he’s the last sane thing in the world.

“It’s all right, Rose,” says the Northern-accented rumble. “I’m here.”

“I am not worse than Adam!” Ten folds his arms, piqued. “And hello, still in the room.”

Laughing, she reaches out to pull him closer. He dodges.

“No,” the Doctors say in unison.

“What?” Then she remembers paradox. Not blowing a hole in the universe. If the two of them touch, it would be Bad. “Oh. Riiiiiiiight. So how do we solve that?”

“Well, first you persuade him it’s worth it,” says Ten. “And then we perform a miracle.”

“Right,” she says. “I...” But she can’t think of any words.

“No.” Ten smirks suggestively. “The kind of ‘persuading’ the King did to you?”

“You two are mad,” says Nine.

“Right.” She’s in Nine’s arms. She’s in them again and he’s warm and alive and real and looking at her. She just gazes at him, willing him to see it because there’s no way she can find the words. I love you. I always loved you. You were worth everything. I don’t regret a minute of it.

She’s almost forgotten how his smile can transform his face. The omnipresent scowl melts into a young and even handsome grin. And in that moment, she can see them both in his face. The wounded Doctor he was. The marvellously impish Doctor he’ll become. She reaches up. Her lips brush his.

That faint kiss sizzles its way through her body. So long. She waited so long for him and then he was gone and the new him came and...

She catches a hand at the back of his neck. He pulls back a little, startled. She looks up, persuading. He gets the intense look she hoped for. Snogs her like he won’t stop until he’s crawled inside, all seeking tongue and hard lips and strong hands and she likes it so much she’s either going to burst into tears or come on the spot or both.

(Mercifully, Ten doesn’t say a thing.)

She backs Nine up until he’s pressed against the edge of the console. Pulls up on his jumper (the really nice slate grey one she always thought made his eyes look like steel.) Slides her hands under the worn fabric to caress the smooth skin of his back.

With a strangled cry, he catches his hand at the back of her neck. The other arm encircles her waist. He snogs her breathless. (God, he might be even better at this than Ten.) He reaches between them. She helps him with the button and zip on her jeans. He turns her in his arms. Presses her tight to his chest, one arm around her ribcage. (And, judging by what she feels pressed against her backside, the man is hung as beautifully as she’d hoped.) He kisses his way down the side of her neck, merciless. Finds a sweet spot where neck meets shoulder. Determined fingers side into her knickers.

“Doctor.” It’s all she can do to keep from pulling him into the past or future. She’d love to make him come like that.

Ten watches them, face flushed, eyes intense. Aroused. Waiting. When she gets the chance, she’s going to snog him bruised.

Nine’s strong, rough fingers turn surprisingly gentle. Roll her between fingers and thumb. With a gasp of pleasure, she arches against him. He holds her firmly. A possessive bite to her shoulder becomes a sweet tease of lips and teeth and tongue. Fingers slide gently over her clit. Tease her. She presses herself onto his hand.

Her eyes lock with Ten’s. He smiles, lips slightly parted. (She wonders for a moment if he’s remembering or experiencing this as it happens.) Either way, when she gets the chance, she’s going to shag him within an inch of his life.

Her eyes roll closed in pleasure as Nine’s fingers slip inside her. His rough palm slides against already swollen flesh. She shudders sweetly. Gasps at another insistent bite to her shoulder. She covers Nine’s hand with hers. Presses into the strokes. Inhales the scents of him. (And in another minute, she’s going to put that lovely hard thing that’s pressing against her backside to good use. She’s wanted to shag him almost from the first “Run!”.)

Nine kisses up the side of her neck. Speeds the strokes of his hand. The sweet, slightly-rough palm slides against her. The strong fingers know just where to touch inside. She shudders, panting. (Damn, he’s good!)

“Rose...”

Oh God... She’d almost forgotten how much she loved that warm voice, a bedroom voice in a warrior’s face. Wounded and beautiful and masculine and oh God...! His hand...!

“Rose...” he purrs again.

She arches against the arm around her ribcage. He holds her tighter. Her mind... spinning...

“Rose,” another whisper. Not Nine in her ear. A tenor voice across the room. Ten. She opens her eyes. He slides into her mind. Keeps the doors closed. (Bless him!) Frees her to just enjoy.

A deep shudder ripples up and down her. Nine’s hand moves faster and faster. She presses into it. Savours the wet friction. He savages her shoulder. Hot mouth. Teeth slipping over her skin. She pants. God... please...!

Orgasm rolls her. She arches. Screams. A fierce bite to the shoulder sends her high. Higher. Higher still.

Then she’s falling. Sagging, spent. Ten holds her with his mind. Protects them all from the past and future. Nine holds her with one arm around her ribcage. Prevents her from crumpling, boneless, to the floor.

When she can move again, she’s going to repay both of them handsomely.

“That’s my girl,” Nine purrs in her ear.

He withdraws his hand, slowly. She shudders, happy in ways she doesn’t have words for. He kisses her jaw.

Ten slips out of her mind. Leaves her to savour the afterglow.

Nine brings his wet fingers to his mouth. Tastes. Moans softly in the back of his throat. Sucks each finger clean.

The TARDIS gives a pointed shudder.

Rose can feel the intensity of the look Nine gives Ten. “Scissors, paper, stone, yeah?”

If her eyes focussed properly, she’s sure she’d see Ten’s grin. “Yup.”

With a silent “one, two, three” the two Doctors play. She suspects Ten cheats, because -- of course -- he wins.

Nine very carefully passes her (God, she can hardly walk) into Ten’s arms, making sure not to touch him. Ten presses her head to his shoulder.

“I’ll get my coat,” says Nine.

“Your coat?” says Ten. “Why?”

Nine presses a quick and breathtaking kiss to the back of her hand. “Because I always get my coat.”

“Was I always like this?” says Ten to her.

She can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Ten reeks of sex and musk and a dozen other things, including champagne. Heaven. “Pretty much, yeah.”

With a rude, two-fingered salute, Nine skips over to the console and snatches his coat. Puts it on in one smooth movement. “Let’s go before I come to my senses.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Ten comments. He tips her chin up. “Sense is overrated.”

So of course, she has to kiss him. “I forgive you.”

He grins. “Not yet... but you will.”

“Oi,” says Nine. “Doctor?”

Ten looks up, irritated. “What?”

Nine grins. “Something I wanted to do for a long, long time.” He strides over, all intensity. Ten retreats a little. Nine bends slightly. Scoops her into his arms. Twirls her around. Kisses her. Laughing, she kisses him back.

“Fun, isn’t it?” Ten is smiling again. “C’mon.” He ducks out the door.

She might miss her chance again if she doesn’t say it now. “Doctor. Nine.”

“‘S me.” He carries her out the door.

“I love you.”

That stops him. Again, emotion softens his hard face. He looks at her and she KNOWS. He loves her. He’s always loved her.

He kisses her, surprisingly gentle.

“How long?” she says.

He follows Ten toward the other TARDIS. “Started when you could’ve left me to die in a vat of sentient plastic,” he says at last. “You could’ve taken the TARDIS and run with the Idiot. You didn’t. You stayed. Fought. Saved my life.”

“But that was...” Her fingertips brush his cheek. “I barely even knew you then.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. She’d almost forgotten the beautiful intensity of his eyes. (Blue. How could she have forgotten the blue?) “I knew you.”

Ten clears his throat pointedly. Invites them with a flowery bow through the door of the other TARDIS.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” says Nine. “Keep your shirt on. And talking of shirts, what are you wearin’?”

“You’re a fine one to talk, motorcycle hoodlum in a manky jumper,” Ten retorts. “Honestly. Brooding in a leather jacket. Lone survivor of a lost world. Could I have been any more cliché?”

“Sod off,” says Nine cheerfully as he ducks through the door. “Fuckwit.”

“That’s gratitude,” says Ten. “You’re not going to kiss Rose with that mouth, are you?”

She can’t help giggling. “I certainly hope so.”



Link to All Previous Chapters

Crossposted to: time_and_chips