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This needs a good title other than "Nine Smut"

Teresa Jacobson

At last! The familiar blue blox swam into view in the far distances above a sand due, and Rose heaved a silent but heartfelt sigh of reief. It had been a very long day, and she was awfully glad to be within sight of home.

She hefted her parcels higher again, trying to relieve some of the strain the numerous bags put on her fingers. It wasn't that she was physically exhausted; no, carrying her purchases home wasn't easy---especially since they were walking across sand---but life with the Doctor left her fit enough to manage. And Jack was carrying half the load.

"Rose?"

She startled, realizing she'd completely spaced out in the middle of Jack's story---something involving a misunderstanding with a giant cricket. "Sorry. Yeah?"

He shifted the parcels he was carrying to one hand, and gestured at her load. She tried to ignore the way it made his muscles ripple; he'd taken his shirt off because of the heat, and she had been covertly admiring the view all day. "Want me to take some of those?"

"You've already got half," she protested.

"Yeah, but I was the one who insisted you needed new clothes," he returned. "C'mon. Aren't you twentieth-century girls supposed to expect chivalry from your men?"

She made a face at him. "That's so last decade," she retorted, grinning, but she started to shift some of her parcels anyway. If he took the heaviest two, the ones cutting painfully into her fingers--

"You getting tired, Rose?" The Doctor peered down at her from her other side. "I suppose you humans must be feeling the heat."

She heaved a purely mental sigh, then mentally stuck her tongue out at him for good measure. "Nah. 'm fine." No way was she going to admit to wanting help now. Not when he took that tone. "An' what precisely do you mean, 'you humans'?"

He shrugged, pacing alongside them easily, showing no discomfort even though he was still wearing both leather jacket and jumper. "More efficient metabolism, me." He grinned widely at her. "That's why I'm usually cooler than you are. Less waste heat."

"C'mon, Doc," Jack protested. "You've got to be at least a little warm."

"Nah." The Doctor turned his grin on the other man. "I put on a light jumper this morning. I'm fine. Lovely day."

Jack rolled his eyes, and Rose shook her head, hefting her packages again to try and ease her fingers a little. "More efficient metabolism," she echoed, shaking her head. "Is there anything your 'superior biology'---" She put more than a hint of mockery into the words--- "doesn't do better?"

Jack made a strangled sort of snorting noise, and she realized a little too late what she'd said.

-

The Doctor glanced over at Jack to find the other man trying hard to contain his mirth. Rose's face was bright red, and she looked away rather than meet his eyes. For a moment, he considered replying to her unintentional double-entendre with some innuendo of his own, but Jack's presence made him hesitate. He didn't approve of the ex-Time Agent's habit of baiting Rose about her twentieth-century morals. Instead, he smiled down at the blonde human. "Not that I've found, no," he replied cheerfully.

This time, the strangled noise Jack made was rather less mirthful, and he thought he detected...he inhaled a deep lungful of air. Yup. Those were arousal pheremones he was smelling.

Not that it was in any way unusual for Jack. He'd been smelling them most of the morning, after all. The boy was probably just waiting until they got back to the Tardis---he had the perfect excuse to follow Rose to her bedroom, with him carrying half her purchases.

He squelched the jealousy that accompanied the thought. All right, so Rose had looked, frankly, fantastic in the clothes Jack had found for her in the nearby city's market, and the Doctor had been flattered by the way she'd kept looking to him for his reaction, not Jack. Of course she'd look to me. She's a naive girl from the early twenty-first century, and for all she knew, Jack was picking out a clown costume for her to try on. Of course she'd look to the knowlegable time traveler. It just means she trusts me not to put one over on her. It doesn't mean anything.

And one little ape, especially one not even a quarter century old, should not make him feel this jealous. Even if she had spent all morning trying on clothes that were, in her own words, 'barely a scrap of nothing'.

He pulled his Tardis key out of his pocket and unlocked the doors, paying no attention to Jack winding up the thread of his latest story behind him. It was cool and dark inside, compared to the desert outside, and he waited half a hearts-beat for his eyes to adjust before stepping inside and holding the door for the other two. Whatever he'd said to put Jack in his place, San Kaloon was still hot, and it was good to be back in the temperature-controlled interior of his ship.

"Thank you, Doctor," Rose said shyly as he closed the door behind her. "For---for everything."

He grinned at her. A shopping trip or two was small, if it kept his Rose happy. "Just don't show your mum," he cautioned her. "She's so twentieth-century human." He shuddered.

"You just don't want another slap," Rose said, grinning. "Nah. These stay on the Tardis."

She turned to Jack, and gestured with a shoulder. "Come on. Let's get these stowed away."

Jack followed Rose into the Tardis interior, but not before shooting a last grin at the Doctor.

The desire to go after them was completely irrational, and he knew it. Rose was a grown woman. She could handle Jack.

Just as long as she doesn't 'handle' him. No, that was wrong. Rose could make her own decisions. Like whether or not to sleep with Jack. It was none of his business, as long as they kept it out of the console room. And the kitchen. And the corridors. And, really, anywhere he might see. Or hear. Or smell. Or ....

He shook his head impatiently, realizing he was still staring after Rose and Jack. The heat. Must be the heat, getting to me. That was it. Cool off, and he'd be fine. A swim, that's what I need. A swim, in the pool. The nice, cold pool.

Yeah, that would be fantastic.

-

"Thanks for helping me," Rose said to Jack again, as he helped her unpack in her bedroom.

"I'm the one who insisted on taking you shopping," he reminded her again, grinning at her as he folded a skirt. "These look much better on you."

She made a face at him. "Painfully twentieth century wardrobe, blah blah blah, yeah, I remember." She held up a top that seemed, to her eyes, to consist of nothing but gauze. "I don't know why we bothered. It's not like I can wear any of this at home. Why not just raid the Tardis wardrobe?"

Jack frowned at her. "That's fine for visiting places, but a lady should own her own regular clothes." He reached for another item, shaking it out into a blue top. "Besides---not all of it is twenty-first century inappropriate. Like this."

"Yeah, only most of it," she retorted, then sighed again. "Besides, I'm just a shop girl. Not a lady."

"You sell yourself short," Jack told her seriously, picking up the stack of trousers and skirts and putting them away in a drawer.

"I'm not intending to 'sell' myself at all," she return sharply. "So it doesn't matter."

Jack frowned. "Sell---did I get the wrong idiom? Sorry. I meant---"

"No, you got the right one." She sighed again, shaking her head. "Sorry. 'm a bit tetchy. Think the heat got to me. Is that everything then?"

He looked into a couple of the lightweight bags the purchases had been packed in. "Looks like it is."

"Great." She threw herself on the bed. "Good thing we took a day to adjust to this climate before climbing the pyramids. I'd've collapsed, I swear. I'm so hot."

"You are," Jack agreed, and she raised her head enough to shoot him a look. He grinned back at her.

"Jack---" She paused. She didn't want this to come out wrong. "I---um---"

The bed shifted as he sat on the edge. "It's all right," he said. "I'm not blind. I've seen how you look at him, and I know when you're from."

She groaned. "I know I must seem horribly backwards to you."

"Nah." He smiled at her. "You can't help it. And anyway, you're worth it."

She blushed. "I'm a girl from the council estates, Jack. Nothing special." He frowned, and she hurried on. "Besides, he's an alien. Far as I know, he's got...like, an ovipositor or something. An' anyway, he'll never be interested in me like that. I'm just a distraction to keep him amused, that's all."

"Well." Jack tilted his head. "Don't knock ovipositors. I knew this one girl---" Rose hefted a pillow threateningly, and he laughed. "All right. Still, it's fun to look, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah," Rose agreed enthusiastically. "Even under his jacket---those arms---"

"Don't forget that nice, broad chest," Jack added. "And how he fills out those jeans of his."

"Yeah," she agreed again, nodding. "He's got such big hands and feet, too. You know what they say about that."

He nodded. "The ears aren't bad either," he pointed out. "They'd make such wonderful handles...."

"Okay," Rose said after a moment. "I need a cold shower now."

Jack looked at her.

"No," she replied slowly. "I'm sorry, Jack---"

"I know," he said with genuine regret, and good humor. "Anyway---I don't understand. Why a cold shower, when there's a perfectly good pool on board?"

"A what?" She blinked at him.

"A pool." He looked upwards for a moment, tilting his head a little. "Go...out the door, first two lefts, past the laundry room, next right, down the stairs, first door on your left."

"Really?" Rose blinked. "But---I don't have anything to wear."

"Any---oh." Jack grinned. "Fifty-first century material, Rose." He reached a long arm over to a drawer, pulled out a pair of items, and threw them at her. "These'll work just fine."

She caught them, balling them up on her chest. "You going swimming too?"

"Nah." He shook his head, getting up and heading to the door. "I'm going to go try and finish Chadelka's 'Dystrophy'. I can't believe the Doctor actually has a copy."

She shook her head, grinning. "All right. You enjoy your book."

"Have a good swim," he told her in return, and ducked out the door.

-

The Doctor nearly headed straight for the pool, but at the last moment he turned and made for the wardrobe instead. He knew Rose was unaware of the pool's existence---just that morning she'd commented, as Jack was off finding yet more things for her to try on, that some of them 'would make great bathing suits, if they had a pool'. On the other hand, he'd caught Jack, a few nights before, returning to his room, wet and naked. Unless the man had decided to go for a swim in the koi pond, he'd probably found the pool. Or had showered in Rose's room, for whatever reason. Although, he'd been going in the wrong direction for that, something for which the Doctor was surprisingly grateful.

Now where the hell did I put all the bathing costumes? He climbed the stairs, still looking. Normally he'd just swim naked, but with Jack around...well, he didn't want the boy getting any more ideas than he already had.

Finally he located a plain, black pair of late twentieth century swim trunks. They were sized for a previous regeneration---they'd be a bit tight on this one. But they'd do, and he was getting impatient.

At the swimming pool, he ducked into the changing room marked for the use of males, quickly shucking his regular clothes and donning the trunks.

He grimaced at his reflection in one of the full-length mirrors hung on the changing-room wall. He'd been right---the trunks were tight, not uncomfortably so, but enough to be noticable. This body also sported copious underarm hair, something his Gallifreyan sensibilities told him was unsightly. Oh well. He was no Romana, able to control the regenerative changes down to the last detail. Frankly, the way his luck ran, he counted himself fortunate that all his bodies had been bipedal.

With one, last, dark look at his reflection, he turned and left the changing room, already anticipating how good a bracing swim would feel.

-

Rose pushed open the door Jack's directions had led her to a bit nervously, then sighed in relief when the open doorway revealed a large pool. She stepped inside, glancing down in surprise as her feet left the hard decking of the corridor and encountered something vaguely springy. The ground was carpeted in something that looked rather organic, like it was some sort of specially-grown plant. She bent down and pushed on the olive green...fronds, she decided, was the best word for them. They were tightly-packed, soft to the touch, and---as she'd already noted---rather springy. To her mild surprise, they were also rather warm.

Perfect for sunbathing on, she thought, looking up at the lighting doing its best to imitate a yellow main-sequence star (the Doctor had explained, once, all the different kinds of star---complete with trips to real live examples. Science was ever so much more interesting when he explained it. Most things were) and decided to try it some time when she hadn't spent all morning in a desert.

There were three doors---other than the one she'd come through---leading off the pool area. One was unmarked, but the other two bore recognizable, if unexpectedly-detailed, silhouettes. She pushed the open the one with a female figure on it, and was rewarded by a changing room.

She set the two-piece 'bathing suit' on a bench, and the towel she'd found in her room's en suite next to it. She looked around self-consciously once, then hurriedly pulled off her clothes.

It took a minute for her to figure out how to get into the suit again, and even after it was on, she stared down at herself dubiously. It covers all the important bits, I suppose. Still, it didn't feel like she was wearing much of anything at all. Spotting a full-length mirror, she regarded herself critically, turning from side-to-side to check the back. No, she really was fully covered. Experimentally, she jumped up and down. When nothing came loose, or reveleated anything it shouldn't, she shrugged to herself. It might not feel like much, and it might not cover much other than the important bits, but it was enough to satisfy her modesty. Anyway, she wanted that swim.

Bare feet silent on the strange plant-floor-things, she left the changing room.

Turning to walk to the shallower end of the pool, she oofed as she walked into something large and---firm. Instinctively, she put her hands up to steady herself, then realized the surface she'd walked into was...warm. And...well muscled. And holding her waist.

Oh, fuck.

She looked up at the equally startled face of the Doctor, and blushed.

-

He stopped in shock just outside the dressing room as he collided with something. It took his startled brain a few microseconds to piece together sweet-smelling blonde hair with a shoulder-high, soft obstacle, and come up with Rose.

She swayed, obviously disoriented by walking into him. Her hands went up in an instinctive response, landing flat on his chest, but he caught her waist anyway to steady her. She shook her head a little, then finally looked up at him, and he suppresed a shiver as her hands slid a little ways up his chest. "Um," she said, blinking at him.

"Rose." Damn. If he'd known she was going to be here---he became aware that his hands were touching nothing but flesh, despite sitting low on her hips. Hastily, he slid them upwards. It didn't help. His fingers and palms encountered nothing but smooth, hot flesh.

Her hands slid a little lower again, settling on his ribcage jsut below his pectoral muscles. He swallowed. "Hi," said Rose, turning a bit red. "Um. Sorry. I didn't---that is, I don't mean to intrude---"

"It's all right," he responded, hastily removing his hands as he realized just what the soft, warm things against his wrists were. He resettled them on her shoudlers---also bare. Startled, he glanced down the length of her. She was wearing one of the outfits he'd purchased for her that morning---one of the ones that had made him very, very glad that he'd been sitting down while she modeled Jack's choices for him.

This time, he was touching her---had touched her warm waist and sides, even (however unintentionally) her breasts. His body responded even more enthusiastically than before, and he eased away from her, hoping she hadn't noticed. "My ship's open to you. No reason to be sorry."

She nodded and took a deep breath, inadvertently drawing his attention lower again. He hardened further as the expansion of her ribcage pushed her breasts against the fabric of her top, and he chastised himself sternly. He was an alien, and fifty times her age at least; he had no business thinking about that. If she ever found out what he imagined doing to her, late at night when she was asleep--

He cut that line of thought off and put a little more distance between them.

-

"Thank you," Rose said, smiling nervously at him. She knew she should stop touching him, should get her hands off his chest, but they didn't seem to want to move. "I wasn't expecting to---well, to run into you." She laughed a little at the pun.

He pulled back a little further, and her hands slid against his muscled chest. She managed to force herself to move them to his waist, and won the battle with the little voice in her head that was urging her to move them lower still. Stop it, Rose. He's an alien, and old enough to have great-great-grandchildren your age. Even if he does 'dance' occasionally, no way is he interested in a stupid ape like you. His hands slid down her arms, and she shivered a little as his fingernails brushed the sides of her breasts. Look how he keeps backing off. You're freaking the poor man out. "I should---I should leave you to swim in peace. Probably only get in your way."

-

The Doctor shook his head, both in negation and to clear the image of what that fabric would look like wet. "No. You have your swim. I'll come back later." he hadn't missed that shiver when he'd accidentally brushed her breasts, or the implication of the immediate offer to leave that had followed. He was frightening the poor girl. His hearts lurched---he would have to control himself; he couldn't bear it if she asked to go home. Yes---he needed to leave, now, before he did scare her that badly.

He forced his hands to uncurl from her upper arms---carefully avoiding her breasts this time---and took a full step backwards. "I'll see you later, then." He tried, very hard, not to think about how good her hands on his chest had felt, and turned to go.

-

Rose bit the inside of her lip in disappointment as the Doctor pulled away, but didn't resist. She did, however, take the opportunity to rake his body with her eyes as he turned to go---it was bad of her, but this could be the only time she'd see him without all his clothes on, and she wanted this to remember. Especially late at night, when...well, it would come in handy. Her eyes swept down from his muscled shoulders, down his bare chest and well-defined abs, to--

Wait.

Several facts sprung nearly simultaneously into her mind.

  1. The Doctor currently had a---rather impressive---hard-on.
  2. He had not been hard (or, at least, not that hard) when she'd first run into him.
  3. Therefore, he had been turned on by her.

Hormones flooded her system, releasing what felt like a gush of wetness between her thighs. "Wait," she managed to choke out.

The Doctor paused, half-turned, and looked back at her. He raised one eyebrow interrogatively. "Yes, Rose?"

Was it her imagination, or was his voice a little huskier than usual? She swallowed hard, gathered her courage, and stepped up to press herself against him.

-

The Doctor felt his face go blank with surprise as Rose approached him again and hugged him, pressing her body against his. He never would understand humans, if he lived five millenia.

His body responded to the sensation of Rose's skin against his, speeding his hearts, flushing his skin, and releasing a flood of chemicals into his blood that only made him want her more. He struggled for control of his reactions, gently starting to push Rose away for her own sake. Taking a deep breath, he started to say "Rose---"

Then stopped.

The deep breath had revealed what his body had known all along, but his mind had not. Rose was releasing pheromones, those wonderful, subconscious signals to other apes in the vicinity, airborned chemicals his superior sense of taste could detect. And, it seemed, her body had been releasing plenty of something else as well.

Rose was very, very aroused.

-

Rose's heart sank as the Doctor's face went blank. After a moment, he started to push her away; having already steeled herself for the rejection, she managed to keep her face from falling.

"Rose---" the Doctor began, then, strangely, stopped. She waited, face still, as he stared at her.

Then, slowly, he pulled her back against him.

Okay, now I'm confused. "Doctor?" she enquired.

"I can smell pheromones," he said quietly, looking down at her seriously. "They---they tell me what your body wants." Oh. She felt herself blush. "But, Rose, I need to know. Does your mind agree?"

She looked up at him, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

He made a slight, soft groaning noise in the back of his throat, and held her tightly against him. She echoed the noise, several octaves higher, as the move pressed his erection against her. "Please," she added after a moment.




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Teresa Jacobson 2008-10-17