Rose Tyler (
iwasherefirst) wrote2011-12-07 04:50 pm
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011 [Audio | Closed Action]
I got too old for Santa when I was nine...'cept for the year I was twelve. I asked for a red bicycle. Anyway, haven't written a letter to Saint Nick since then but here in the City...I figger...why not?
No reason for me to put it on the network though.
[She's not surprised to find him in her room. She'd given him blanket permission just the day before so he'd have a place to lock himself away if he wanted to let his other self tinker in his room. She is surprised to find the Doctor asleep on his stomach, sprawled diagonally across her bed. The number of times she's caught him asleep can be counted on one hand and she knows he had to be exhausted to pass out here. Instead of waking him, she tiptoes across the room and curls up in a corner of the bed, her back against the headboard then slips a piece of paper and pen out of the nightstand next to her. She uses the book he was reading from last night as desk to start the letter to Santa that she's compelled to write.]
Dear Santa
[It's a formality for the simple sake of appearances and curses. She knows Santa can't deliver what she wants anymore then he delivered the red bicycle she loved so much]
My list this year is short.
*Real snow on Christmas Day. It doesn't happen as often to me and the Doctor as you think it might.
*I just want to know that Mum, Pete, Tony and Mickey are all right. It's okay that I won't see them again. I made that choice long time ago. Might be nice if you let them know I'm okay and I'm with the Doctor.
*Sex with The Doctor. All of him. We're sort of this awkward stage of things, all wanting and no resolve. I want past that. I've waited a long time for it and done a lot of things to get here.
Sincerely,
Rose Tyler
No reason for me to put it on the network though.
[She's not surprised to find him in her room. She'd given him blanket permission just the day before so he'd have a place to lock himself away if he wanted to let his other self tinker in his room. She is surprised to find the Doctor asleep on his stomach, sprawled diagonally across her bed. The number of times she's caught him asleep can be counted on one hand and she knows he had to be exhausted to pass out here. Instead of waking him, she tiptoes across the room and curls up in a corner of the bed, her back against the headboard then slips a piece of paper and pen out of the nightstand next to her. She uses the book he was reading from last night as desk to start the letter to Santa that she's compelled to write.]
Dear Santa
[It's a formality for the simple sake of appearances and curses. She knows Santa can't deliver what she wants anymore then he delivered the red bicycle she loved so much]
My list this year is short.
*Real snow on Christmas Day. It doesn't happen as often to me and the Doctor as you think it might.
*I just want to know that Mum, Pete, Tony and Mickey are all right. It's okay that I won't see them again. I made that choice long time ago. Might be nice if you let them know I'm okay and I'm with the Doctor.
*
Sincerely,
Rose Tyler
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The low, bubbling up sort of desire and love are still there. Maybe it's that he initiated this, or maybe it's the conversation they had last time or the bedroom or the fact that in writing that ridiculous letter to 'Santa' she accepted that the ball is in his court and it'll happen with time. Whatever it is, she's feeling a lot less pressure about the whole thing as well which translates into her no longer unconsciously pressuring him.]
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There is an extremely high likelihood that for now at least he's just going to sort of run into that strap and probably run his fingers along it because new texture, and then continue on what he was doing like it isn't really there. In a very literal sense that's just new territory, and in a more figurative one, he's okay for the moment with what's already happening. Granted, all that low build-up means it's likely to not stay around contentment for long, but for these few moments anyway.
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After a bit more kissing and her hand against his back, she occupies her hands with sliding the button up shirt off his shoulders and down his arms a bit, at least as far as she can while he's all wrapped up around her.]
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That works. He's totally okay with that. Actually having his shirt down his arms like that makes it more difficult to move around, so he leans to one side and shakes his arm free of the sleeve before going back to the former position.]
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Actually that whole thing about the contentment not lasting long was very correct - he's no longer interested in the different texture or anything like that, and just takes a couple of moments to at least unfasten the back so it's out of the way.]
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She pushes his shirts up on his back a bit further, tugging at the hem at his stomach in order help it along. She bites a little at his bottom lip and pushes up against him, wanting more. She's trying very hard not to let too much of the want bleed through but it's probably not working very well because she's preoccupied with his mouth and his hands on her skin as well as her hands on his.]
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Although he does start talking again, the hand from her side toying with the hem of her shirt now.] Is that... Do you mind? [And then an addendum, because suddenly asking seems like a silly thing to have done.] Get a better view of that odd bone.
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Oh, very. We're all even now. Sort of. I guess in some respects not, but literally. Definitely all right.
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All this attention to her face and clavicles and such - he lets the hand that is supporting most of his weight get tangled him her hair as well, finding little reason not to since it's there and soft and Rose. The other hand is still on her ribs, on the side, roaming a little bit but remaining somewhat clearly below a certain area for now. He's got ribs and stomach and hipbones to explore right now anyway.]
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At some point with the way they keep pulling each other so close and with the occasional arching, she's probably going to feel the evidence that he's getting just as carried away with things as she is, even if up to this point he's still sideways and partially not on her. If the position changes - or already has and I just don't remember - up to you when she notices.]
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Well, while these still work, I wonder how cliche it is to have him not speak English during this.
Eh, who cares if it is. Whatever language he thinks in instinctively
....I have almost no idea if that would be his own or have shifted to English by now
lol! It's hard to know with him.
That's going to bother me until I can work it out.
LOL sorry to encourage!
the friend I asked told me to tweet Gatiss and ask which is a HORRIBLE/GREAT idea.
LMAO
it is now the only way to definitively get an answer.
True. Do you include the WHY you want to know or not?
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
ahahahahahahaha
:|
Don't give me that face, you know it's hilarious
she told me to tweet moffat first and I abjectly refused. Gatiss is more okay though.
lol! I'm still laughing so much at this
meaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan
Pssssh
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