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It was about midnight by the time they returned to the TARDIS after celebrating the Queen’s coronation. The Doctor bounded up the ramp to the console, still full of energy, and quickly fiddled with the radio. Rose slumped down on the jumpseat, knackered, and groaned when the Doctor turned around to tug her up with an enthusiastic grin. “Let’s dance,” he suggested.
"We’ve been dancing all night! I’m so tired. Do you realise how sore my feet are from wearing these heels all day?" she protested, but she let him sweep her along and twirl her about nevertheless.
"It’s our song," he told her, as Glenn Miller blared out of the TARDIS console. "We have to dance to it. Plus, look at this dress of yours! It’s perfect for this song, all spinny-outy and twirly-whirly." He dipped her and she giggled. "You can go to bed after this song, all right? Just this one dance, then sleepytime for the human."
"Fine," she relented, sighing in mock exasperation.
Things didn’t quite go according to his plan, though, as Rose discovered when they carried on dancing through the next song, and the next, until they paused to arch an eyebrow at each other when a song with a much slower tempo came on. It only took a few seconds of mischievous gazing at each other before the Doctor had repositioned their hold of one another to begin a romantic waltz. They had the steps perfect, but Rose’s persistent giggling at the Doctor’s attempts to look serious ruined the romantic vibe he was going for. Still, he was rather enamoured with the way Rose Tyler laughed, so all was well.
After a minute or so of non-romantic-but-rather-giggly slow dancing, Rose quietened, and when the Doctor drew her closer, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He looked down at her as he slowed their dance to more of a gentle sway back and forth, and his breath blew lightly against her hair. He wrapped both of his arms around her waist and held her, sensing she was on the brink of sleep standing upright.
"Rose?" he whispered, blowing a few strands of her hair upwards. It tickled his nose, and he smiled.
"Mmm?" she murmured back.
"I think you’re nearly falling asleep, aren’t you?"
"Mmhmm," she agreed, looping her arms around his neck. "But this is nice," she continued. "I like dancing with you."
Strictly speaking they weren’t even dancing, now. They were simply standing still in an extended hug, both eager to prolong the embrace. But neither brought this fact up.
"I like dancing with you, too," he replied softly. "But perhaps we should continue this tomorrow, if you’re gonna end up dozing off in my arms in a second."
"I think I’d like to doze off in your arms," she said, and her tone sounded both cheeky and slightly shy, and the Doctor hid his grin in the hair atop her head. "I like it when you do that, too."
"What’s that?" he asked, clearing his throat when he realised his voice sounded a little hoarse.
"When you nuzzle the top of my head with your nose," she replied, then yawned widely. "I like that."
His eyes widened. “Oh. Um. Right.”
"Sometimes you even kiss me," she said next. "I like that, too. You should do it more, but aim for my lips next time."
"Rose, have you been drinking?"
She giggled into his shoulder. “Nope. I’m just tired. I say silly things when I haven’t slept for twenty-odd hours.”
"Come on, let’s get you to bed," he said gently, suppressing his chuckles. "I promise I’ll let you sleep as long as you like, and I won’t even jump on your bed in the morning to wake you up too early."
She tightened her grip on him to stop him from letting go of her and forcing her to move. “It’s okay, I like it when you do that.”
He smirked and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Fuels the fantasies, does it?” he asked cheekily.
She opened her eyes and tilted her head to look up at him. “You’ve no idea,” she replied, flashing him teasing grin. They stared intently at each other for a few long moments. “Thank you,” she said suddenly, softly.
His brow furrowed in bemusement. “What for?”
"Saving me today. I mean, I know it was mostly Tommy who did all the work…" she teased.
"Oi! I’ll have you know that I was the one who climbed up the tower at Alexandra Palace during the Queen’s coronation."
She smiled and dropped one of her arms from his neck to touch her fingertips to his tie. Instead of holding his gaze, her eyes flickered to watch her hand trace the silky swirly pattern. “I love this tie,” she murmured.
"Weeelll, you’re just saying that because you bought it for me," he countered.
"That I did. For your not-birthday. You have to admit, it was your best present," she smiled.
"Why of course. The fact that it was my only not-birthday present doesn’t come into it, obviously."
"Obviously," she agreed. Then she added, "You didn’t get me anything for my not-birthday."
"I got you something for your actual birthday. And I saved your life today. Doesn’t that count?"
"Nope."
"What about the fact that I was going to take you to see Elvis?"
"Didn’t get there, doesn’t count," she proclaimed ruefully.
"I’ll take you tomorrow," he promised.
"Ah, but will you?" she smirked. "Or is that just you being a tease?"
"Rose Tyler," he gently admonished.
She lifted her gaze again and said, clearly and honestly, “I’d really like you to stay with me tonight.”
"You would?" he asked roughly, his throat suddenly dry.
Rose nodded. She glanced down again to admit, “I…I worry that I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, in the dark, and sort of need to just, check you’re still here or whatever. It’s silly, I know, I just…would you stay? So that I know where you are and that I’m…safe?”
"Okay," he agreed. "Yes."
"Thank you," she murmured gratefully.
The Doctor placed one of his hands over the one that rested on his chest, interlinking their fingers. He nodded his head towards the corridor out of the console room. “Shall we?”
They walked to her bedroom hand-in-hand, Rose leaning against him slightly in her tiredness. Once inside, Rose let go of his hand and wandered over to her dressing table to sort out her hair and remove her pink headband and earrings. She noticed the Doctor watching her in the reflection of the mirror, and for a long moment their eyes met. She glanced away first, and quickly removed her mascara using a makeup wipe. She then bent down to take off her shoes, sighing contentedly once her feet were free from the heels. As she discarded her blue jacket, she stood up and turned back to the Doctor, and found him standing in the same position he’d been in since they’d entered her room.
"Can you unzip my dress for me?" she asked quietly.
A blush spread across his cheeks when he realised he’d been staring at her, somewhat mesmerised, and that she’d noticed. “Of — of course,” he stammered, feeling as though he’d been thrown off-kilter. He stepped closer to her and motioned for her to turn around. Locating the zip, he pulled it down slowly, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that he was now staring at the inches of bare back he uncovered as each tooth of the zip sounded its obtrusive connotations into the tense silence of the room.
"Thank you," she whispered, once he’d successfully unzipped her. He nodded, swallowing thickly, and — sitting down on her bed — he looked away from her for a few minutes whilst she undressed and slipped into her pyjamas. He felt the bed dip as she climbed in, and turned to lie down next to her.
"Doctor," she said, getting comfortable. She closed her eyes and murmured, "Take your shoes off."
The Doctor, chuckling, did as he was told. He also removed his jacket and tie, placing them both over bedpost at the foot of the bed. He settled down beside her again and closed his own eyes. “Night, Rose Tyler.”
She didn’t reply, because she’d already fallen asleep. The TARDIS helpfully switched off the lights for them, plunging the room into darkness.
-:-
Two short hours later, the Doctor woke up with a start, bolting upright, his breathing laboured. His clenched fists bunched up the duvet and he tried to catch his breath, his hearts beating frantically. Within moments, he felt two arms he knew well wrap around him, slowly rocking him back and forth. She pressed soft kisses to his temple and hairline and was murmuring calming words about how everything was alright, because she was here, and he could talk to her, and he should let her help him, and she would hold him and she was there, she was definitely, completely there, and he pushed her backwards until her head touched her pillow and he followed her, finding her lips in the dark with his, kissing her firmly, hurriedly, passionately, as though he feared she would disappear from beneath him.
He felt the moment she stopped being surprised and started kissing him back, and it shocked him into realisation.
He lifted his head, easing out of the kiss, and gasped softly, holding himself above her. “Oh, oh no,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Rose, I didn’t — I didn’t mean to — to — to do that, I’m sorry, Rose, I…Rose…”
"Hey, shh, shh, it’s alright," she whispered back. She gently pushed against his shoulder so that he fell onto his back, and wrapped her arm around his middle, snuggling against him. "It’s alright, everything’s alright. Tell me what happened, if you want. Or don’t. It’s up to you."
He swallowed. Her head was now pillowed on his chest and lifted his hand to stroke through her hair, getting himself back under control, evening out his breathing. “It was just a dream,” he whispered, to reassure himself as well as her. “Just a dream. A horrible, terrible dream, but still just a dream.”
He closed his eyes and then snapped them back open, as all he saw on the backs of his eyelids was the image of Rose, faceless yet somehow screaming as she was engulfed in darkness and then reduced to dust. He felt sick whenever he remembered the pain of that moment on the Gamestation, with the Anne-droid, when he thought he saw Rose die right in front of him. Now, with his subconscious combining this with the Wire’s games earlier, he nearly cried out in agony. In fact, from the way his throat ached, he suspected he had indeed cried out.
"Rose," he murmured hoarsely. "Did I…did I say things, during my dream…?"
Her grip on him tightened and she took a moment to respond. “You were just…”
"What?"
"Saying my name, over and over, groaning and…" she answered slowly, quietly. She tried to lighten the mood and added, "And not in the fun way."
He smiled at her addition in spite of the situation, which, knowing her, was her intention anyway. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
"I wasn’t scared, I was — am — worried about you. What’s going on, Doctor?"
He sighed heavily and then confessed, “I’m just so very, very frightened of losing you. My subconscious mind sometimes goes to a dark place and plays on that fear for its own amusement while I sleep. But I’m fine, because you’re here.” He slipped his hand down to hers and caressed her wrist slightly before pressing his fingers against her pulse point. “And I can feel your heart beating, and I can feel your breath on my neck, and hear you talking, and it’s all real. The dream was an illusion and you’re the reality and let me tell you this, you are far, far better to believe in than any of the silly old nonsense my brain imagines in my sleep.”
"How often do your dreams have such horrible things - how often is a dream of yours so powerful that it wakes you up in the middle of the night, and you’re there in your bed panting for breath and crying out and - ?"
To her surprise, the Doctor chuckled nervously, interrupting her. “Two different questions there, Rose.”
"What do you mean?"
He brushed the back of his hand across her cheekbone tenderly. “I’m sure you can do some deducting and work that out for yourself.” He felt a blush rise in her cheeks and coughed awkwardly, continuing, “In the meantime, thank you. Thank you for being so wonderful about this. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that. And I’m sorry about the, uh, kissing thing. Totally irresponsible of me, losing control like that. I apologise profusely.”
"Don’t," she murmured.
"Don’t what?"
"Don’t apologise for the kiss. You don’t have to."
"Oh." He paused, uncertain of her implication. "So…things aren’t gonna be awkward between us, then?"
"Are you planning on kissing me again?" she countered nonchalantly.
He couldn’t tell from her tone which answer she wanted from him. “Erm. Well. Well…I, uh, I wouldn’t say I was planning it, no.”
Rose relaxed her hold on him slightly and sighed. “Right.”
The Doctor’s hearts sped up again because, if his suspicions were correct, Rose sounded a tad disappointed. He continued with his answer, “Because obviously, I don’t plan anything, do I, eh? I make it up as I go along. More fun that way. Bit of, um, spontaneity is good, right?”
She was silent for a few seconds, and the Doctor hoped she understood what he was trying to say.
Then, she lifted her head from his chest and assured him, “No awkwardness between us.” She paused, and bit her lip, then added, “And you can spontaneously kiss me whenever you like, just so you know. Apart from right now, ‘cos I’m still really tired and need to sleep.”
The Doctor smiled. “Don’t worry; I’ll get you when you least expect it,” he teased.
Rose giggled and laid her head back on his chest, closing her eyes. “I’m counting on it,” she replied.
They slept, without further interruption and with their arms wrapped securely around each other, for the remainder of the night.