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Rose and TenII spend the night at Hal's.  Can they keep their hands to each other?

Probably not!

Title: Wayward Son - Chapter 23: How My Soul Cries Out for You

Characters: Jackie Tyler; Ten II; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; Rose Tyler; Original Character
Genre: Alternate Universe; Angst; Character Study; Het; Romance
Author's Description: Set mostly in the AU of Pete's World; TenII hits a big snag in his efforts to forge a new life with Rose and finds himself facing an unexpected identify crisis.
Length: WIP
Rating: Teen for slight swearing

In the darkness, a pair of hazel brown eyes twinkled calmly, illuminated by the faint glow of distant streetlamps streaming through a nearby window. A hint of an inner laugh tugged at the corners, but all was quiet in the stillness, except for the occasional soft purr of an appliance motor. Across the vast expanse of the bed, dark brown eyes gazed back, almost black from dilation in the peaceful dimness of the room.

Between them, a corona of light-coloured hairs floated lazily, drifting in a whispery breeze stirring them gently one way, then the other, by their breaths. Brown eyes shifted downwards to search the serene, relaxed countenance beside them. He sensed the ever-vigilant Hal wasn’t deeply in sleep, although anyone else might think so from her smooth features and slow, steady breathing. His dark eyes languorously slid back up to meet Rose’s as a slow quirky smile crept over his face.

Ever so gently, he lifted a hand and slowly reached across the slumbering body, taking great care not to disturb the wispy strands of hair floating above Hal’s head, reaching with long thin fingers toward temples so temptingly close. An even more tempting pink bit of tongue appeared between teeth at their approach.

Without warning, a hand shot up to intercept his wrist and swiftly bring it back down to his pillow. Glancing down and expecting to meet a steely glare, he was surprised to see Hal’s eyes still closed and not a trace of emotion on her features.

“Nice try, Doctor. Go to sleep, please,” Hal muttered sleepily. Rose tittered very quietly behind her. She smiled back at the Doctor, who had a boyish grin on his face at being caught “red-handed.”

Naturally, they had protested when Hal declared them both unfit to drive back to the mansion; ditto for their trustworthiness in being alone the first night after bonding. Their whinging fell on deaf ears as Hal marched them five blocks from her flat to the nearest Tesco to purchase the growing list of reasons why they couldn’t stay. Two pairs of pyjamas, underwear, a make-up compact, a tube of mascara, toiletries, and supplies for dinner later, they trekked back to the flat loaded down with four canvas bags. Stomping most of the way like a two year-old, the Doctor pouted petulantly about taking the next day off from work.

“I really need to check the baby TARDIS, you know,” he whined. “She’s only starting to grow, and she misses me.”

Hal shrugged. “You’ll be gone for two whole weeks soon. She might as well get used to it.”

“But what about a bed? How many bedrooms and beds do you have?”

“I have two bedrooms, Doctor. One of them is an office. The master bedroom has a queen bed in it,” she replied evenly.

“Well, there you go,” he huffed. “How are three of us going to fit into one bed?”

Hal cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s not as if any of us are heavyweights, you know. And if a queen is too little for us, there’s always the sofa. For you, that is.”

Obviously not like the idea of sleeping on the sofa, the Doctor conceded the point. “I suppose you’re going to sleep between us? Like some kind of living bundling board?”

“Fine Amish tradition, that,” grinned Hal.

“Weelll,” he smiled slyly, “the bundling board has to go to sleep sometime, eh?”

“Oh yes,” snickered Hal. “And Sid will notify me if there’s any covert barn raising activities going on.”

Rose giggled at the crestfallen look on the Doctor’s face. “Oh, it’s jus’ one night, Doctor. It’ll be fun, really. Sort’a like a bunkin’ party, yeah? An’ Hal even bought some lamb chops for ya. Don’t wanna miss out on that, do ya?”

He mulled over the choice between succulent lamb chops or an equally succulent naked Rose, a thought that gave him pause for a good two or three minutes. The truth be told, he really didn’t want to make a choice. The stubborn Time Lord within him suggested he shouldn’t have to make a choice. Not that a naked Rose was on the menu, of course. Fervently wishing she was on the menu was another story.

It irked him that Hal was right, but the tempting offer of one of his favourite dishes assuaged him somewhat. What little portion left of his rational mind admitted it was for the better that he not be left alone with Rose, but the remainder of his huge Time Lord brain was strangely occupied with obsessive and circuitous thoughts that all led to one pink and yellow girl. Never before, in all of his long lives, had he experienced such a fixation, such a constant state of arousal. The primitive urge to mate, to mark her as his, to prove his worth in every way so that she’d would never, ever look at another man as a potential mate, burned through his veins like liquid fire.

He had erroneously thought his people had grown beyond such base emotions; but the physiological reactions he was experiencing, triggered by the telepathic bond with Rose, belied that. Although he’d never experienced a betrothal bond before as a Time Lord, he failed to see how his part-human physiology attributed to his reaction. Humans were not, as a race, telepathic, and therefore didn’t form telepathic bonds. But Hal’s people did and, as a telepath of considerable power, she had recognized the first blush of a pair-bonding between the two. Obviously, telepathic races, Time Lord or not, had similar instinctive mating drives.

Regardless of what evolutionary force was spurring him on at the moment, he knew that he was far from being a rational creature; more like a pubescent primate. He longed to be in physical contact with Rose Tyler every second. Thwarted by holding three canvas bags full of goods, he twitched every few steps as the urge to reach out and grab her hand washed through him. He could not overcome desire, the thought of the feel of her skin against his. A desperate wanting log jammed his thought processes; the constant thought of propelling himself across the short distance, to pull her body against his, occupied a good portion of his brain. He feverishly longed to plunge mind, body and soul into hers; to merge every bit of his essence with his Rose Tyler. The desire he felt for oneness extended far beyond the physical; it extended into that esoteric realm of the mental and metaphysical. The latter shocked him to his erudite Time Lord core.

And so it came to be that he found himself in the enviable position, some might say, of lying in bed with two very beautiful females by evening’s end. Unfortunately for him, one was his formidable sister; the other was under her protection and on the far side of the bed. To add insult to injury, he was dressed in rather unappealing old man cotton plaid pyjamas. The stiff sizing in the collar continually chafed his neck, his right arm was now pinned down at the wrist by his overzealous sibling, and his other arm was stuck under his raised pillow in an attempt to view at least a portion of Rose’s face.

Wizard. Just wizard.

He held perfectly still, letting his breathing deepen and hoping Hal would finally enter into a deep sleep. After what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of his life, he felt the death grip on his wrist loosen a bit. Keeping his eyes fixed on her face, he extricated his arm in an excruciatingly slow manoeuvre worthy of a master bomb technician. Holding his breath until he thought his respiratory by-pass would kick in, he watched carefully for signs of awakening, but Hal seemed completely undisturbed.

Rose observed the Doctor’s movements with fascination, trying very hard not to giggle at the seriousness of his expression. Shifting his eyes back to Rose’s, the Doctor flashed a bright Cheshire cat grin just as she caught movement in the corner of her eye.

Slowly and lazily, like a harvest moon on the horizon, the Doctor’s open hand was rising up above the sleeping Hal’s waist. When it reached its apex, long, thin fingers wiggled invitingly at Rose in an extremely familiar gesture.

She grinned, and mimicking his movements, she gently lifted her hand to meet his, being careful not to shift her body on the mattress. Thankfully, Hal’s mattress was a high-end viscous foam type that transmitted little movement, but Rose took no chances. Like two docking spaceships, their hands floated in the air on a rendezvous of fingertips. Splaying their fingers apart, they interlinked their hands at last.

A warm, bright presence blossomed into Rose’s mind; a bright blue flash of colour seemed to accompany it. Her breath quickened at the touch. Instinctively, she relaxed the inner tension to allow the presence to sink deeper into her mind.


Hello, Doctor, she replied, trying to narrow the thought to only him. She wasn’t quite sure how this telepathy thing worked, but she hoped she was transmitting privately to the Doctor. Her eyes danced with delight at this new mode of communication.

You’re kind’a…blue. An electric blue… in my mind’s eye, she said. Will you always be that colour?

Yeah, mostly. It will probably change with my moods, though. From the look of adoration he was giving her, she could tell he was happy even without sensing his feelings.

How do I look? What colour?

You’re sort of… pink, he told her, a shy smile spreading over his face.

My favourite colour!

It’s probably your favourite colour because you subconsciously associate it with your mind’s psychic colour, he mused.

Wow, an’ I always thought it was because I looked good in pink, Rose grinned.

A bit of pink tongue poked out from the side of her mouth, catching the Doctor’s eye. He stared agape at her luscious mouth, suppressing the urge to launch himself over Hal’s body to kiss her. He swallowed thickly, unaware that he’d projected a clear picture of his desires. He dragged his eyes away from her lips and settled them back onto her hazel brown irises, dark in the unlighted room.

I felt that. You wanted to kiss me, she said.

Don’t need telepathy for that, he laughed silently. But really, you are magnificent, Rose. I would never have thought you had any telepathic ability, and here you are holding a conversation with me. Brilliant!

So, the stupid little ape surprised you, yeah?

He flashed an embarrassed purple in her mind, along with a wave of regret. Oh, Rose… please forget I ever said such a stupid phrase. And please, please forgive me for ever calling you that. I was a broken man… a bitter and angry git who had lost the will to live. You made me so much better! It was wrong of me to say that to you or anyone.

Was it the War? The Time War? What was so horrible about it that you can never talk about it? The smile fell from her lips, wondering what horrible circumstance could have robbed the Doctor of all joy in life. What could have broken such a wise and powerful being? She felt his fingers tighten involuntarily at mention of the War. A pained, haunted look came into his eyes, and she felt him momentarily withdraw slightly. Before she could react, he surged back on an undercurrent of anxiety.

Rose, I promise, I will tell you everything. Everything that happened to me. Everything I did. Everything I didn’t do, but should have. I will show you and let you judge what kind of man I truly am. But, please… not tonight? Tonight is special. I’ve never been happier than I am right now; never had as much hope as you’ve given me today. Please, let’s enjoy this for a short time…

The heartfelt plea brought a mist to her eyes. Not for the first time, she felt the jagged heartbreak and misery directly below the surface of the Time Lord’s psyche. But this time it was more immediate, more real than she’d ever felt it before. It was suddenly accessible, within her reach if only she were to demand it. With sudden clarity, she recognised her power to break this ancient and mighty mind with nothing but words and a look.

A groundswell of fierce protectiveness sprang up within her breast; reached out to the lonely, sad man whose hand she held. With deep regret she realised she had added to his sorrows; had vehemently denied who he was. He may well be in his third body since she’d met him, but underneath he was still the same mind and soul of her Doctor. For all his bluster, swagger and feigned indifference, this ancient being was putty in her hands. He would fall on his sword at her bidding; the command of a simple shop girl from urban London. Why he loved her and gave her such power over him was beyond her keen.

Gently, she tugged his hand up and over Hal’s sleeping body and up to her lips. Ghosting a soft kiss to his fingers, she closed her eyes and poured all of her feelings through their shared bond.

I love you, she whispered through the living chord of light between them, silently mouthing the words on his hand. I love you, my Doctor.

She opened her eyes to his tear-streaked face, the tracks glistening across his freckled cheeks and nose in the dim light. A mixed expression of joy, wonder, and profound love suffused his features. She could feel his emotions roiling below the surface, held back with his bated breath; as if he was afraid what he had heard wasn’t reality.

Oh Rose… Rose… Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those words?

Since the first time in Dårlig Ulv Stranden? The first and the last time I said them?

Yes… So very long ago.

But you can actually feel it now, she said. Are words so important when you have a bond?

I was wrong. I was so, so wrong, Rose. It still needs to be said. I love you, Rose, and I will tell you every single day for the rest of my life.

I think I can handle that, she smiled.

You won’t think I’m a daft old sop if I do it several times a day?

Might… but you can do it anyway, she said teasingly.

His eyes darkened somewhat, taking on a more hungry look as he opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to his upper teeth. What about… other things?

Several times a day?!? She feigned an owlish look of girlish innocence at his suggestive thought.

At least… he said with appropriately hooded bedroom eyes. Rose felt a rush of heat through her body as the Doctor’s mind suddenly became streaked with bands of crimson and violet. She didn’t resist as he carefully pulled her arm up and over the divide, barely missing the halo of hair sticking up from Hal’s burrowed head.

With a languid heated gaze down his nose, he pressed a series of tiny butterfly kisses to her wrist. He worked his way slowly and incredibly silently out to her fingers, placing an infinitely gentle press of his full lips to the pad of each finger and thumb.

Rose’s breath caught in her throat when, without warning, he opened his mouth to take in her index finger. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on hers, he flicked the end of her finger with his tongue in a rapid pattern that left her faint. Swirling his talented tongue around the digit, he slowly suckled from knuckle to tip, changing the rhythm every few strokes in a heart-stopping tempo that made her toes curl up.

Rose struggled not to give out an audible whimper at the Doctor’s languorous ministrations. Just as she was about to signal a telepathic time-out, the Doctor came to a stuttering halt. Glancing down, he came face to face with a baleful deep-blue eye glaring back at him.

Oops. The basilisk has awakened, he warned Rose. Now we’re in trouble. Weelll, more like I’m in trouble. Unless she sleeps with her eyes open. But the blast of displeasure she’s giving off right now suggests she’s awake and aware. Or maybe she’s dreaming? That could be it. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything yet? Or maybe she’s going to clobber me first. Hard to say.

So, the Doctor babbles even in telepathic speech, Rose noted wryly. She retracted her hand very quickly, abashed and snickering over the Doctor’s predicament, before she got caught in the middle of the warring siblings. She could sense that he wasn’t so much embarrassed about being caught, as he was in abject terror of Hal’s retribution. A fearsome being she must be to keep the Time Lord in check. She thought only her Mum had that kind of influence over the Doctor.

Hal rolled over onto her back and sat up smoothly, never taking her eyes off the Doctor’s face.

“Oh… no... you… didn’t,” she hissed acidly. “I know you didn’t just do what I think you did.”

“Uhm… weelll…” he hummed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Dammit, do you have any clue what it’s like to wake up to the sound of sucking going on next to your ear?!? You’re lucky I didn’t go all PTSD on you and break something off! What the hell were you thinking??”

“Err… eh… I… I wasn’t?”

“Couch!” Hal commanded, pointing imperiously to the bedroom door.

“Noooooo!” pleaded the Doctor, hands templed in supplication. “Please, Hal, it was an accident! It won’t happen again, I swear!”

“An accident?” Hal snorted. “Oh, I get it. Rose’s hand just accidentally lopped over here and you just happened to accidentally latch onto a finger like a new born babe. Got it. COUCH!”

“No, no, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’ll lie here with my hands down to my sides like a stick. See?” He threw himself down melodramatically onto the mattress, stiff as a board. “Won’t move a muscle. Won’t so much as breathe. Respiratory by-pass and all, you know. Besides, very sleepy now. Going sleepy-bye now. Goodnight!”

Hal glowered at the Doctor for several minutes while he made good on his promise not to move or breathe.

“One more attempt at hanky-panky and that’s it,” she warned him, rolling her eyes. “Not only do you get the couch, but I’ll kick your Time Lord butt all the way to the living room.”

Wisely, the Doctor remained silent and still, even as Hal demonstrably punched her pillow several times to fluff it before reclining.

Rose sent a chaste mental kiss to the Doctor along the lingering psychic connection before turning on her side away from Hal, pursing her lips tightly to keep her laughter in check.

Tomorrow she would ask the Doctor about the fine old human tradition of dating. There was a movie she wanted to see, and the thought of a romantic evening featuring the Doctor, a huge tub of popcorn and a shared drink left a vapid smile on her face as she started drifting off to sleep.

Rooose…I love you!

I love you, too, Doctor. Now say goodnight, Doctor!

Goodnight, Doctor!

Hal groaned.