Inside the Big Blue Box

Chapter One

Author's Note:

So before I start, I just want to clarify that this is for fun and since this is obviously a fan fiction, the Doctor Who franchise is not mine (as much as I want it to be). Also, if you have ideas for more words, feel free to leave a comment and please click that adorable star if you fancy this chapter (and the rest). The story may never end as long as I have ideas--and that's what makes this brilliant, that it doesn't have to be continuous because I have quite a short attention span. Anywho, enjoy!

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Rose Tyler wasn't dense. She wasn't thick at all. She knew very well that she harbored romantic feelings toward the Doctor, and that he felt the same. To what extent, she wasn't sure. And she would be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know where she stands in their relationship.

A loud clang caused her to snap out of her reverie. Hazel eyes focused on the man in front of her, clad in a brown pinstriped suit and gorgeous, floppy brown hair.

The Doctor was sprawled out under the console, tinkering away at the countless wires underneath. There was nothing wrong with the TARDIS, he had assured her earlier, it was just that he preferred to keep himself busy while he racked his brain for another fantastic planet to visit. Rose knew for a fact that this visit would end up in yet another case of running for their lives hand-in-hand and laughing blissfully as they saved another planet from its destruction.

She didn't mind at all, especially since he always found a way to pull her into a hug after an adventure, even if they weren't in peril.

He cursed under his breath as he picked up his sonic screwdriver. The tip of his tongue darted out momentarily to wet his thin, taffy lips—an unconscious gesture he made when he concentrated.

Ah. Those lips.

Lips that have captured others—or in contrast, have been captured as it drew so much attention.

Too much attention, Rose pondered.

She flinched at the thought of others snogging the Doctor but felt her heart swell upon remembering that she in fact had planted one on him back in New New York. Technically, it was Cassandra who snogged him senseless but she still felt his warmth and tasted him nonetheless. Rose was very sure about how much he struggled to hold back as her fingers plunged in the brown locks and massaged his scalp, his body gravitating to her as she pulled away, eyes darkened in a mix of confusion and lust.

Under normal circumstances, she would have punched that air and poured herself a bottle of exquisite champagne as reward for drawing that kind of response—or any response at all—from the Doctor, but then again, she was possessed by a bitchy trampoline who threatened to destroy the entire hospital. However, given that she was travelling with a 900 year old Time Lord in a blue box that's bigger on the inside, the standard for "normal" seemed a little bit too abnormal for her now.

Still, it was a reaction.

A reaction that sparked his confidence enough that once in a while would lead to him softly placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. Without a doubt, the kiss allowed the Doctor to loosen up and express himself. Not entirely, but it was a start. Rose knew that it was impossible for him to open up entirely to her, and that was saying a lot, given that he was the epitome of impossible.

The blonde admitted to herself that she wasn't exactly satisfied with how he restricted his lips to her forehead, but still glad because, heck, he was still kissing her...somehow.

It drove her insane.

She worried that the Time Lord didn't want anything to happen.

The time she desperately needed to talk to someone other than the Doctor, the TARDIS materialized a glossy red retro telephone at her bedside, with an old friend at the other side of the line.

"Rosie, Rosie, Rosie," he'd drawled out. Jack may have been enamored by her, but he was still a great friend—aside from the constant innuendos. "How wrong you are."

Jack explained, and she argued with him about how it's impossible, after all, he's only done it twice—the first time after she lost her face to the Wire, and the second after he almost lost her to the Beast.

Rose unconsciously lifted her hand to touch the spot he had kissed and her body flushed with glee.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice, deep and husky crawled deep inside her mind and pulled her back to reality. His wide, hazelnut eyes bore deep into her, thick eyebrows woven together in concern.

"Forehead," she blurted, unthinking. She mentally punched herself, preparing for a sign of withdrawal from the Time Lord.

Instead, the Doctor's gaze softened, eyes crinkling at the sides as the corners of his mouth curved up.

She was about to stammer relentlessly and incoherently when he stepped forward and there it was—

Soft lips brushing ever so gently against her forehead, his nose buried in her bottle blonde hair, breathing in so gently, so deeply that it tickled.

The Doctor lingered, his other hand settling at the small of her back, the other entangled with her golden locks.

"Rose Tyler," he whispers her name, and it felt right. Her breath shudders, heavy against how his lips danced on her skin while he talked. "Rest."

She remembered what Jack said when she asked what it meant.

Everything, he had said.

In that moment, in the middle of space and time, she felt it—and she finally understood what he wanted her to know.

Everything.

Rose sighed, leaning into his warmth—frustrated that he told her to rest but she can't with her heart beating erratically, frustrated that he can't put into words what needed saying, and frustrated that she'd reduced to putty in his hands from a single bloody kiss on her forehead.

Word prompt: forehead