Chapter Text
Rose sloshed the dark blue liquid around in her clear glass. She couldn’t quite remember the name of it at the moment, and she didn’t right care what it was called either. All she needed to remember was that this alien liqueur would get her properly pissed in record time.
Exactly what she needed.
The Doctor had clearly wanted to be alone after he had returned from France. The word left a nasty taste in her mouth and gave her a sickening feeling that mixed violently with the alcohol already churning in her stomach. He wanted to be alone. Fine. Well, so did she. After growling at Mickey to go find himself a room and leave her the bloody hell alone, she had marched straight to the TARDIS kitchen. A part of her knew she would have to apologize to him tomorrow, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. But she didn’t need his I told you so’s or worse, his pity. Not so soon after Sarah Jane.
At least in the end her and Sarah Jane understood each other. Had even ended up liking one another after everything was sorted. The same could not be said of...she brought the glass to her lips and threw her head back, chugging the rest of the drink in two seconds then slamming it down on the table. That French whore wasn’t even worth Rose saying her name, let alone thinking it. A tiny, logical voice that sounded far too much like the Doctor insisted she wasn’t completely to blame for the events of the past few hours.
Rose clearly hadn’t had enough to drink yet.
She poured herself another glass, noting with a frown that she had already downed over half the bottle. She drained the drink in the same manner she had the previous one, quickly and without finesse. She set the glass down awkwardly, fumbling to keep it level. Her limbs felt fuzzy and detached. Her cares dropped away slowly, like leaves from a tree. Or a wilting flower, she thought ironically.
She sighed, closing her eyes and feeling the world spin, wondering how much was the booze and how much was the time ship twirling in the vortex. Had enough time passed that the Doctor would no longer be in the console room? She had a strong urge to go sit on the ledge of the TARDIS doors, letting her legs swing out in the air as she watched the stars...or whatever at the moment. She really didn’t fancy running into him just yet. Or for the next several weeks was fine with her.
The betrayal cut deep, a knife twisting in her heart. She had thought she was different, special. Especially after the conversation they had outside the chip shop. He had seemed so open, so honest. It was all a lie. The sting of her broken heart was still too acute for her liking. She reached out for the bottle, nearly knocking it over as it swam in and out of focus. Ah, there it was. She grinned widely as she closed her fingers around the cool bottle, the effects of the alcohol hitting her with the force of a lorry.
She swayed slightly from side to side, a wide stupid smile on her face as the tingling numbness finally spread over her entirely, encompassing her mind and her heart as well as her body. She let out a contented sigh, the only sound in the otherwise empty kitchen. She went to pour herself more of the potent beverage, tongue poking out between her teeth in concentration. Her arm shook and she narrowed her eyes, trying to keep the stream of blue pouring only into her cup. Hitting the full point, she jerked the bottle up before she overflowed the glass, but still spilled liquid from the bottle to the table.
She gasped then burst into a fit of giggles, clutching the bottle tightly to her chest as she wobbled in her chair. Composing herself, she gingerly placed the bottle on the table then got up. Tried to anyway. It took her three tries before she was finally standing on wobbly legs, gripping the edge of the table as the room tipped back and forth.
Weaving her way from the table to the cabinets, she felt lighter than air and hummed happily to herself. Until she actually reached her destination and couldn’t force her mind to remember which drawer contained the towels. Help, she thought to the sentient time ship. Grabbing the first drawer, she yanked it open and let out a delighted squeal when she found exactly what she was looking for. After grabbing a blue towel and closing the drawer, she collapsing dramatically on the counter, stroking the cool surface in thanks.
“At least someone loves me,” she mused wistfully.
“What exactly are you doing to my TARDIS?” A voice drifted from the doorway, a voice she very much did not want to hear.
Rose shot up and whirled around, bringing a hand to her head as her version tipped and swirled.
“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked as he stepped further into the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, not wanting him anywhere near her. She wanted his pity even less than Mickey’s. Taking a deep breath she attempted to march back to the table, where her drink was waiting patiently. Stumbling several times, she could only giggle and pointedly ignore the stony stare he was currently giving her.
Reaching the table she suddenly realized a slight problem. She would need to pick up both her glass and the bottle in order to completely clean up the mess. But no matter how she thought about the best way to approach the situation...she never had enough hands. Maybe, just maybe...she could hold the glass and the bottle in one hand? Probably not...but worth a shot. She wasn’t about to ask him for help. Trying unsuccessfully to grab the bottle and then the glass, she thought maybe she should try the glass instead…then the bottle.
“Oh, for…” the Doctor hissed as she picked up her glass, careful not to spill the alcohol. He snatched the towel out of her hand and hurriedly wiped up the mess she had created. He turned to face her, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I needed your permission to drink, father,” she sneered then downed the entire glass in one go. The outrage written all over his face was worth the burn zinging down her throat.
“I’m old enough for it,” he retorted.
And then some,” she muttered, setting her now empty glass on the table.
“Excuse me?”
“Forget it. You couldn’t be my father anyway. Wouldn’t work.” She waved her hands at him dismissively, debating on whether or not she could stand to be around him long enough to take another drink.
“Oh?” he asked, arching an eyebrow and dropping the towel on the table.
“Yup. You hold my hand and hug me far too often. Not to mention you stare...” she trailed off, the alcohol making her feel more bold than usual. She grabbed a boob in each hand and jiggled, smirking as his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“What?” he squeaked, quickly averting his eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about?”
She rolled her eyes, hands still firmly on her chest. “Oh, come on. You know...chest, breasts, tits, bossom, boobs, chesticles, knock-”
“Rose!” he blurted. Was he blushing? “Stop it. And...and release your...self.” He waggled his fingers in the direction of her chest.
“Why?” she asked in mock innocence.
“Because...I...you,” he swallowed then seemed to recollect himself. “You’re being extremely unlady like.”
Something inside her snapped. And her previous teasing turned ruthless. Fire rushed through her veins and blood pounded in her ears. “Well, we can’t all be French Royalty. So maybe next time you should pick your assistants more carefully.” She gave her breasts another good squeeze and stuck out her tongue for good measure before releasing them.
“What do you mean by that?” His tone was carefully neutral, but even in her intoxicated state Rose could detect the way his eyes had narrowed and his hands had balled into fists.
“You know exactly what I mean, Time Lord.” She took a step closer to him, taunting him.
“Rose, I think you’ve had quite enough to drink and should probably head to bed.” His patronizing tone grated her nerves and the fact that he hadn’t taken the bait made her blood boil.
“What do you bloody care?” she yelled, anger exploding from her lips. “Running off and leaving me behind, while you...you snog some French whore.”
“She kissed me!” he insisted, his eyes wide at her unusual outburst.
“Bet it was bloody awful too. Having her pressed up against you. Bet you just hated every second of it.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she had taken several more steps towards him, causing him to back up until his back was nearly touching the wall. It wasn’t bloody fair. Reinette...Cassandra...and who knew how many others now that it was out in the open? Everyone had had their go at snogging him, why not her? The way things were rapidly deteriorating between them, it was now or never. And she would be damned if some bitchy trampoline had kissed him using her body and she had never taken this chance to find out what it was like on her own.
She plunged her hands into his hair, bringing his face down to hers and crashing their lips together as she used her body to slam him roughly against the wall. At his surprised gasp, she dipped her tongue hungrily into his mouth. She pressed close to him, crushing her chest to his and tugging at his hair. Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, she gave him a good nip before releasing it and stepping away from him. They were both panting and she could feel that her face was flushed from more than just the booze.
She gave him a smug look, pleased that he continued to be dazed and confused. But before she could exit the room, he was grabbing her and flipping their positions. This time her back hit the wall as his body pinned her in place and he covered her mouth with his own. He had a hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair, angling her head for better access. He wasted no time delving into her mouth with his tongue, pressing closer.
Rose snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him back just as roughly. Mouths and tongues moved against each other instead of in unison, teeth knocking and nipping too sharply on tender, swollen lips. The burning passion and fuming anger added a level of arousal Rose hadn’t even been aware of. She was furious with him, yet the only thing she could think about was tearing his clothes off and riding him until they both combusted in a fiery conclusion. Heat and moisture pooled between her legs. She hiked one leg up and wrapped it around his waist as best she could.
His hand slid from her hip to her bum and he ground his hips into hers. She could feel how hard he was between their layers, rubbing her in almost just the right spot. She groaned and he pulled away, staring at her with impossibly dark eyes.
He smirked and her anger flared back to life, momentarily overriding the need to feel him inside her.
“Fuck you,” she spat, with every intention of pushing him away.
“Is that what you want, Rose?” His voice was raspy and the reverberations echoed from his chest into hers, tiny vibrations sending bolts of desire straight to her core. “For me to fuck you?” He rolled his hips against her, this time hitting her in just the right spot. She gasped and arched into him, her hand tightening in the fabric of his suit jacket. He did it again. This time her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned her head against the wall. Again. She bit her lip, trying to keep from moaning.
He stilled long enough for her to open her eyes and look at him. Coherent thoughts swirled at the edge of her mind, too fuzzy for her to make out. She batted them away, focusing on panting out her one word answer.
“Yes.”