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Story: The Lady in the Fireplace
Author: Melinda Kitty![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melindakitty
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Reinette, King of France and (eventually) Ninth Doctor
Rated: 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 Ten and Rose need a holiday.)
Nine turns. Heads for the door, back straight. Only the Doctor sees his tears.
And just like that, his other self steps out of their lives forever. The Doctor puts an arm around Rose. “I’m actually going to miss him.”
“Yeah,” Rose smirks. “I wonder why.”
“It wasn’t just that.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s the first time I’ve literally caught a man playing with himself in the shower.”
Few things are more fun than baiting her. “He started it.”
She slides her hands around his waist. “And we finished it.”
“We did, didn’t we?” He brushes her lips with his. “Did you mind?”
The sweet, slow kiss sends a ripple of energy through him. Leaves him a little breathless. (Oh it is SO good to be him.) “I like to keep an open mind.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turns. Closes the door. Leans his forehead against Rose’s, suddenly exhausted and slightly sad.
It’s over. And it was fantastic.
“You really love me, don’t you?” says Rose softly.
“Madly.” He smiles. “You?”
Before he can react, she snogs him within an inch of his sanity. After a startled moment, he gives as good as he gets. (He could very definitely get used to this.)
Rose wavers a little when he releases her, and much as he’d like to flatter himself into thinking he’s just that good, in reality it probably has much more to do with the weird not-regeneration she’s going through.
“Will I be all right?” she says.
“Yes.” He runs his hands slowly up her back. “Give it time.” He grins. “So where to now?”
She yawns hard. “Someplace restful, I should think.”
He takes a quick mental inventory of all the wheres and whens they’ve been. Smiles at a thought that’s hopelessly Romantic and stupid. “I know just the place.”
He heads for the controls. Begins to set the appropriate switches and dials. “Fourteenth February.” He smiles at her. “Valentine’s Day... But which year?”
She represses another yawn. Shrugs. “Does it matter?”
He smiles. Blinks against his own fatigue. “Back to elapsed time will do just as well. Or maybe 1975?”
“Why 1975?” She rubs her eyes.
“No reason. Less built up. More wild places.” He’s always had an irrational fondness for that year. Maybe it’s the punk in him.
“So where are we going?” Rose sits on the sofa. Huddles into the coat, smiling and sleepy.
“I was thinking Maui?” He glances at her for approval.
She grins. “What, no far distant planet we’ve never heard of? Something with twenty-seven suns and purple grass that eats cows and people who drink liquid lead for fun?”
“That would be Vergilantimanius Three,” he mutters. “But why fix what isn’t broken? I like Hawai’i.”
Rose nods. “Hawai’i’s good. Never been.”
“You’ll love it.” He gives the engines a glare. “And if you put us in Siberia, I’ll never forgive you.” He makes a quick set of adjustments. Sets the dial. Takes a deep breath. Pulls the lever.
The TARDIS sails through time. Lands gently.
Rose hides another yawn. Gives him a golf-clap in appreciation. He takes a bow.
He peers outside. Warm sun. Black sand beach. Palm trees. Sparkling aquamarine ocean. Yup. Maui. The TARDIS even put them on the south side of the island so the surf won’t be so rough. Yes, She is in quite possibly the best mood he’s ever seen. He shuts the door. “Hawai’i will keep for a bit. You and I need rest. No sense ruining the vacation by getting sunburned while napping our first day.”
“We’re staying in, then?” Rose’s attempt at bedroom eyes is marred by the persistent yawn. “Sorry.”
He sits beside her. “Don’t be.”
She sheds the coat. He sheds his poor, bedraggled boxers. They stretch out on the sofa, her head pillowed on his arm.
“Blanket?” he offers.
“Nope.” She spreads the overcoat over them. “I like this. It smells like home.”
He breathes in the warm scent of her. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Nine’s memories fade. Become easier to ignore. (Though he will always be grateful.) They’re now no more affecting than the memories of any other regeneration.
“Mmmmm,” Rose sighs. “Doctor.”
“Rose.” He curls his whole body around hers. Savours every inch of her skin pressing against his. The steady hush of her breathing lulls him to sleep.
Who needs forever when one can have right now?
Link to All Previous Chapters
Crossposted to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
time_and_chips
Author: Melinda Kitty
melindakittyCharacters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Reinette, King of France and (eventually) Ninth Doctor
Rated: 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 Ten and Rose need a holiday.)
Nine turns. Heads for the door, back straight. Only the Doctor sees his tears.
And just like that, his other self steps out of their lives forever. The Doctor puts an arm around Rose. “I’m actually going to miss him.”
“Yeah,” Rose smirks. “I wonder why.”
“It wasn’t just that.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s the first time I’ve literally caught a man playing with himself in the shower.”
Few things are more fun than baiting her. “He started it.”
She slides her hands around his waist. “And we finished it.”
“We did, didn’t we?” He brushes her lips with his. “Did you mind?”
The sweet, slow kiss sends a ripple of energy through him. Leaves him a little breathless. (Oh it is SO good to be him.) “I like to keep an open mind.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turns. Closes the door. Leans his forehead against Rose’s, suddenly exhausted and slightly sad.
It’s over. And it was fantastic.
“You really love me, don’t you?” says Rose softly.
“Madly.” He smiles. “You?”
Before he can react, she snogs him within an inch of his sanity. After a startled moment, he gives as good as he gets. (He could very definitely get used to this.)
Rose wavers a little when he releases her, and much as he’d like to flatter himself into thinking he’s just that good, in reality it probably has much more to do with the weird not-regeneration she’s going through.
“Will I be all right?” she says.
“Yes.” He runs his hands slowly up her back. “Give it time.” He grins. “So where to now?”
She yawns hard. “Someplace restful, I should think.”
He takes a quick mental inventory of all the wheres and whens they’ve been. Smiles at a thought that’s hopelessly Romantic and stupid. “I know just the place.”
He heads for the controls. Begins to set the appropriate switches and dials. “Fourteenth February.” He smiles at her. “Valentine’s Day... But which year?”
She represses another yawn. Shrugs. “Does it matter?”
He smiles. Blinks against his own fatigue. “Back to elapsed time will do just as well. Or maybe 1975?”
“Why 1975?” She rubs her eyes.
“No reason. Less built up. More wild places.” He’s always had an irrational fondness for that year. Maybe it’s the punk in him.
“So where are we going?” Rose sits on the sofa. Huddles into the coat, smiling and sleepy.
“I was thinking Maui?” He glances at her for approval.
She grins. “What, no far distant planet we’ve never heard of? Something with twenty-seven suns and purple grass that eats cows and people who drink liquid lead for fun?”
“That would be Vergilantimanius Three,” he mutters. “But why fix what isn’t broken? I like Hawai’i.”
Rose nods. “Hawai’i’s good. Never been.”
“You’ll love it.” He gives the engines a glare. “And if you put us in Siberia, I’ll never forgive you.” He makes a quick set of adjustments. Sets the dial. Takes a deep breath. Pulls the lever.
The TARDIS sails through time. Lands gently.
Rose hides another yawn. Gives him a golf-clap in appreciation. He takes a bow.
He peers outside. Warm sun. Black sand beach. Palm trees. Sparkling aquamarine ocean. Yup. Maui. The TARDIS even put them on the south side of the island so the surf won’t be so rough. Yes, She is in quite possibly the best mood he’s ever seen. He shuts the door. “Hawai’i will keep for a bit. You and I need rest. No sense ruining the vacation by getting sunburned while napping our first day.”
“We’re staying in, then?” Rose’s attempt at bedroom eyes is marred by the persistent yawn. “Sorry.”
He sits beside her. “Don’t be.”
She sheds the coat. He sheds his poor, bedraggled boxers. They stretch out on the sofa, her head pillowed on his arm.
“Blanket?” he offers.
“Nope.” She spreads the overcoat over them. “I like this. It smells like home.”
He breathes in the warm scent of her. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Nine’s memories fade. Become easier to ignore. (Though he will always be grateful.) They’re now no more affecting than the memories of any other regeneration.
“Mmmmm,” Rose sighs. “Doctor.”
“Rose.” He curls his whole body around hers. Savours every inch of her skin pressing against his. The steady hush of her breathing lulls him to sleep.
Who needs forever when one can have right now?
Link to All Previous Chapters
Crossposted to:
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