Lilli (lillibetm3) wrote in lillibetfiction,

Fic : Sleepless Nights (3/4)

Title : Sleepless Nights (3/4)
Pairing : Nine/Rose
Genre : Romance/Smut/Angst
Rating : Adult 
Word Count : 10423 (total)
Summary : They'd been stuck in a storage room and through boredom and stupidity and.... a bucket load of sexual tension, their teasing had got a little out of hand. It had started simply enough; nothing more than their usual banter, but quicker than the blink of an eye it had turned into something else.

Chapter One :  Bad Dreams
Chapter Two : More than Trust

Chapter Three : Words and Music


No matter how she tried -- and she had tried -- Rose just couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly, punched her pillow as though it was to blame and wrestled her duvet to within an inch of its life, but all to no avail. The Sandman was not on his way.

She rolled over onto her back, and as she stared hopelessly up at the ceiling of her bedroom, she let out a defeated sigh. She knew exactly what the problem was; the events of the day refused to fade. Instead they were on a sugar high, playing in a constant loop, over and over and over. It had been a good day, a fantastic day. Everybody had lived, and that didn't happen often enough. Then, of course, there was Jack.

A ridiculously girlish smile tugged at her mouth at the thought of her wonderfully incorrigible new friend -- and that was all he was, a friend. As no matter how much he flirted with her, Rose knew that Jack could see her heart was already taken -- even if the Doctor couldn't.

Ah, the Doctor, therein lay the true cause of her inability to sleep. Her smile faded and she felt her stomach flutter with butterflies. She groaned as frustration swept through her body. He was impossible, maddening, infuriating, confusing, impossible... oh wait, had she already said impossible? She whimpered in self-pity as yet another burst of butterflies took flight within her. She chewed at her bottom lip and contemplated the trouble she was in.

They'd been stuck in a storage room and through boredom and stupidity and.... a bucket load of sexual tension, their teasing had got a little out of hand. It had started simply enough; nothing more than their usual banter, but quicker than the blink of an eye it had turned into something else. She curled her toes as she thought about it.

"Remember this one, Rose?"

The strains of 'Moonlight Serenade' had played through the radio, and for her sins she'd blushed. Her eyes had darted to the Doctor's and, oh the look on his face. He'd tried to hide it away but he hadn't been quick enough, she'd seen it, if only for a second.

A little later, her tongue in her cheek, or at the very least the corner of her mouth, she'd asked if he danced.

"Doesn't the universe implode or something if you... dance?"

"Well, I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast."

That had been an invitation, hadn't it? She wasn't the type to refuse an invitation, so she'd got to her feet, turned the music up and held out her hand to him.

"You've got the moves?"

He'd just looked at her, so she tried again.

"Show me your moves."

He'd given her that look -- he may have even rolled his eyes.

"Rose, I'm resonating concrete."

What did that even mean? God, sometimes she just... he just... She sighed, rolled over and thumped her pillow again.

Anyway, she'd played dirty, gloves off, and used his 'captain envy' against him like some sort of secret weapon, regaling him with how she'd met the dashing ex-Time Agent. It had worked a treat, or at least she'd thought it had. The Doctor had stopped resonating concrete, pocketed his sonic screwdriver and turned his attention to her. Those eyes of his -- they'd almost stopped her heart when he'd looked at her, and for a second she'd thought that she had him exactly where she wanted him, but then he'd started asking questions and she'd realised that it was entirely the other way around.

He'd taken her hands in his and turned them over, his thumb brushing across one of her palms. She'd stared up into those steel-grey eyes of his and held onto the moment, knowing that it would be gone in a heartbeat.

"Barrage balloon?"


Eventually he had taken her into his arms, drawn her close. The way he'd looked at her, she'd almost thought that he was going to... going to... except he hadn't.

She sighed again, her frustration reaching new levels. Jack had got them out before she'd had the chance to triple-check the signals. Once inside the Chula ship she'd been torn between gratitude, and wishing that Jack had come to their rescue just a few minutes later -- or maybe an hour later.

Now of course she was just trying to make some sense of it all. Jack was on board the TARDIS, everybody had lived, Jamie had found his mummy, and Mrs. Harcourt's leg had grown back; so all's well that ends well. Except not everything had ended, there was still something left unfinished, something that had started in that hospital storage room. That's what she needed to do, Rose realised; she needed to finish what had been started.

Her decision made, Rose left her bed and set off toward the wardrobe room; because she was quite certain that on occasions such as these, a girl needed to dress appropriately.


She had expected to find him in the console room, up to his arms in metal and wires, sonic gripped between his teeth, reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. Instead she found him in his room, the lights of which were low. He was sitting in a high backed leather armchair, his head bowed, hands in his lap, bathed in the comfort of shadows, and as still and silent as she had ever seen him.

She hesitated, then slowly she pushed the door further open as she stepped into the room, allowing some of the light from the corridor to creep into the room with her, a silent announcement of her presence.

The Doctor lifted his head slowly, his eyes settling on Rose as she closed the door and leant back against it, watching him with wide eyes. Even in the subdued light of the room she saw the way he looked at her. Nothing could hide the darkening of his eyes as he appraised her every curve, accentuated as they were by an elegant gown of oyster silk that smoothed over her body and clung at her hips and breasts.

It took all Rose's strength not to smile with satisfaction at the revelation that he liked what he saw. She knew that a smile would give too much of herself away, and she wanted to hold onto her secrets for as long as she could. Even so, until the Doctor was done with his lazy exploration of her body she was powerless to stop her heart racing, the knots in her stomach tightening and her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Too soon for her liking the Doctor glanced away, his attention apparently returning to whatever had previously occupied his mind.

Rose made a sound of disappointment that she regretted instantly, realising that perhaps she wasn't so good at keeping secrets after all. She hadn't really planned any of this, certainly hadn't thought it through, and the Doctor's silence was disconcerting to say the least. She bit her lip and decided that maybe it was cards on the table time.

She let out a breath and pushed herself away from the door, took a small step forward. "Doctor..."

"Third left, second right and it's the fourth door on your left. You can't miss it."

Rose frowned. "What?"

"Third left, second---"

"I heard you the first time," she interrupted, taking another step closer. "I just don't know what you're talking about."

He looked up then, held her curious gaze. "Jack's room," he explained, a ghost of wounded pride in his voice.

Rose stared at him, tried to read his thoughts and quickly succeeded, though more through female intuition than any form of telepathy. She took another step forward. "I wasn't looking for Jack," she told him, hoping he could hear the honesty in her voice. "I couldn't sleep, and…"

"Oh, Really?"

She heard the scepticism in his voice and didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit. She glanced around the room full of shadows then looked back at him, not sure what had changed between them. "What's the matter? Why are you sitting in here, sulking? Everybody lived, Doctor. I thought you'd be happy."

His eyes darted to hers. "I'm not sulking."

"Looks like it," she said, her voice a little sharper than she had meant it to be.

The Doctor got to his feet, put some distance between them then turned to face her. "Why are you here, Rose? What is it you want?"

She took a breath. Fine. He wasn't answering her questions, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to answer his. "I couldn't sleep and..."

His eyes, dark diamonds, watched her as he pointed out the obvious. "You're not dressed for sleep."

That was true enough. Rose looked down at her dress, smoothed her hands over her silk-wrapped hips. Lifting her head she met the Doctor's gaze; he hadn't yet looked away, and the watchful intensity of his eyes made her heart quicken.

"No, I'm not," she admitted, softly. "So... since I've gone to the trouble of getting all dressed up..." She held out her hand to him, her brown eyes sparkling. "You owe me a dance, Doctor."

He frowned at her, did not move. Confusion clouded his eyes. "I thought..." He shook his head, began again. "Go to bed Rose."

Her hand fell back to her side as she watched him turn his back on her. "I told you that I couldn't sleep," she said, feeling the butterflies in her stomach turn into bees. "And just 'cos you're nine hundred doesn't mean you can tell me to 'go to bed', as though I was six!"

He sighed heavily, turned back to face her, his expression dark. "This is my room, Rose. You shouldn't be in here, and especially not dressed like... that."

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"

He didn't answer immediately, but he didn't look away either. "You know," he told her quietly. "Rose, you don't put on a dress like that to slum around the TARDIS. It's French, an original Chanel gown, antique silk too. An' the way it clings to every curve..." His gaze narrowed. "It's definitely not something you'd wear underwear with." He raised one eyebrow. "But you already know that, don't you?"

Rose felt her cheeks flush with colour at his obvious insinuation, but she chose not to dignify his question with a respond. Instead she licked her lips, held the Doctor's gaze and somehow found the courage to challenge him.

"When we were trapped in that room in the hospital -- before Jack got us out -- I saw the way you looked at me. You can deny it all you like, but I saw it, Doctor." She took a step forward. "I can see it right now."

"And I see the way you look at him," the Doctor said too quickly, instantly regretting his words because they were so obviously drenched in jealousy.

"Him?" Rose echoed in confusion. "Do... do you mean Jack?" She looked at him like he'd gone mad.

The Doctor said nothing, he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets, glanced away, and his silence spoke volumes.

"Is that what this is about? You think that I... that I want Jack?" She wanted to laugh at the idiocy of the man. How could he think that she would choose Jack over him? She wouldn't choose anyone over him. Not anyone. Ever. Didn't he know that? Rose felt a smile take the corner of her mouth as she watched him. She took another step closer. "What about the way I look at you?" Another step. "Do you see that, Doctor?"

He looked at her, not daring to believe the truth her saw in her eyes. Instead he tried to explain the burden his hearts carried. "He's not just a pretty boy. He's a predatory charmer. He'll sweep you off your feet, Rose."

"He's too late." She took another step closer and gazed up into the darkness of the Doctor's eyes. "I've already been swept off my feet."

The Doctor stared at her, dumbfounded. "What?"

"'Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life'," she whispered softly, and then she shook her head, smiling. "That's one hell of a chat up line."

She reached out, touched his face, softly brushed the roughed line of his cheek with her fingertips, and for a moment she held him hypnotised. But all too soon he broke the spell, taking hold of her hand and holding it to the side. However, Rose could see the struggle in his eyes, and it gave her strength.

"Why are you here, Rose?"

"You know why," she told him gently. "I didn't put this dress on to slum around the TARDIS. It's French, an original Chanel gown, antique silk too. An' the way it clings to every curve..." She smiled. "It's definitely not something I'd wear underwear with." She raised one eyebrow as she continued to hold his gaze. "But you already know that, don't you?"

He didn't answer, but she saw his jaw tighten and his eyes darken. He still held her hand, so as she closed the remaining distance between them she laced her fingers into his and set her other hand lightly at his shoulder.

"Dance with me," she invited softly.


"You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them." Her heart was racing and she was running on pure bravado. She only hoped that it didn't show.

There was a moment of hesitation, indecision, she saw it in him; but then a choice was made, and she saw that too. The Doctor put his hand on her hip and slowly drew her toward him.

Rose rested her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of him, and let the comfort of being held in the Doctor's arms fill her heart.

"Rose, there's no music," he said quietly, but even as he spoke, music began to play.

Blue moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own

Rose pulled back a little and looked at the Doctor. She listened to the tune and smiled as they danced. "What is it?"

"Blue Moon," the Doctor informed her, realising that the TARDIS was taking sides. He looked at Rose and grinned, suddenly turning her in his arms as the music changed tempo. "Frank Sinatra."

Blue moon
You knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for

Rose's tongue crept to the corner of her mouth as she tried and failed to contain her smile. "Frank Sinatra? What happened to Glenn Miller?"

"Time machine," the Doctor reminded her, without missing a beat. He spun Rose to arms length then drew her close again and looked into her eyes, his smile making her catch her breath. "Told you I had the moves."

And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold

Rose felt a bubble of happiness burst within her as the Doctor held her tighter, and they danced to the music that the TARDIS played for them.

Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own

"I heard that Sinatra was quite the ladies man," Rose said.

"I heard that too."

"Maybe we should go visit? Find out if the stories are true? Might be fun."

The Doctor shook his head, and his eyes darkened. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" she asked, not really caring.

And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold

The Doctor looked at Rose as though she was all that existed. "Because you're mine," he told her, quietly, honestly. "An' I don't share."

Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own

Rose smiled back at him then rested her head at his shoulder again, closing her eyes as she was carried away on the music. She was his.

Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own

The music played on, and on, and on, neither the Doctor nor Rose knew how long, and neither really cared. But eventually, when they were no longer dancing, and the Doctor was merely holding a sleepy Rose against him as she drifted close to dreams, the TARDIS allowed the last notes to gently fade into silence.

The Doctor lifted an unresisting Rose up into his arms, carried her across the room, laid her down onto his bed and carefully slipped off her shoes, setting them on the floor. He watched her, but she did not stir from her slumbers; instead she seemed to fall deeper into dreams. He took off his leather jacket and covered her with it, and then sitting on the bed's edge, he removed his boots and socks and lay down next to her. Hesitantly he reached out and pushed a lock of Rose's blonde hair behind her ear, then brushed his fingertips across her cheek in a soft and fleeting caress.

"Can I stay?" she whispered softly, and even though the Doctor's hearts leaped, he knew that Rose was dreaming.

He hesitated for a second. "If you stay, I'll never let you go," he replied, honestly.

"Then I'll stay," Rose murmured, drifting deeper into sleep.

Spellbound, the Doctor watched her, half afraid his hearts would break from loving her.





Chapter Four


Tags: adult, angst, fic : sleepless nights, nine, romance, rose, smut
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