FIC: Notes From A Bed of Rose's

Notes From A Bed of Rose's

Characters: Nine and Rose, plus Jack and some special guest stars.
Rating: T (and a big S for silly)
Spoilers: Just the presence of Jack.
Summary: The Doctor loves to watch Rose sleep. Rose is somewhat less enthusiastic about it.

Author's note: An irreverent but affectionate look at something that's become a bit of a fanfic cliché. Don't mind me, I'm only teasing....


* * * * * *

Rose woke up. Something peculiar was going on.

"Hello!" said the Doctor, about three inches away from her face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Is there an emergency? Are we being attacked or something? Should I start panicking?"

"Nope," he replied pleasantly.

"Oh, good." Feeling slightly awkward, she went on. "So what are you doing in my room? And what are you doing on my bed? And what are you doing in my bed..." – she broke off to lift the covers and look underneath, then continued – "...with all your clothes on?"

"I'm watching you sleep. You're beautiful when you're asleep."

"Awww." said Rose, smiling soppily in spite of herself. "That's very sweet of you."

"Well, watching you sleep is just so amazing. That cute little smile. Those sweet little snuffling noises. Even the way you dribble slightly. It's all so endearingly human. I find it very comforting, you see. It's like an island of hopefulness in a universe torn apart by pain. My angst-ridden soul shimmers with joy at the very sight of you. It's fantastic. And I don't even mind the snoring too much."

"Errrm, okay. Thanks... I think." She paused for a moment. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Course you can."

There was another pause.

"I meant without you watching."

"Ah. Right. Yes. No problem. I'll just be going then. Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight, Doctor," said Rose, shaking her head in mild disbelief.

* * * * *

Rose woke up again, ten minutes later.

"Hello!" said the Doctor again, still three inches away. "Would it make any difference if I took my shoes off?"

"No."

"Just thought I'd check."

Rose grumbled and turned over.

* * * * *

Rose woke up.

"Hello!" said the Doctor.

"Hi there," said Jack.

"See what I mean?" said the Doctor to Jack.

"Sure do," said Jack. "She really is beautiful when she's asleep."

"You're not too shabby a sleeper yourself, of course."

Jack grinned. "So they tell me. And I've been watched by the best."

Rose's eyes moved blearily from the Doctor to Jack and back again with increasing dismay, as if she were watching a particularly dispiriting tennis match. They took no notice.

"The nudity thing adds a certain spice, true. Now here we see a very traditional approach: pyjamas. It's a classic, admittedly. But see what she does with it?" The Doctor sighed. "Rose is really taking it to another level."

"Rose is really going to punch both of you in the mouth if you don't shut up and let me get some kip," muttered Rose.

"Don't mind us," said the Doctor airily. "You go back to sleep, beautiful. Pretend we're not here."

"And how am I supposed to do that, while you're wittering away like a couple of old women?"

"I've had a thought," said Jack. "You know, while we're all here. Seems almost a shame not to."

"Well, it can't be worse than this," sighed Rose.

So they all had energetic three-way sex.

"Mmm, that was great," Rose mumbled sleepily. "Yeah, yeah, you're both the best I've ever had, yadda-di-yadda. Now sod off back to your own rooms. I'm knackered."

"But Rose, I'm sure you look even more beautiful in the afterglow of..."

"NOW!!" she growled.

"You only had to ask," said the Doctor peevishly.

* * * * *

Rose woke up. There was a weight on the duvet, as if a very large cat were sitting on it. Several very large cats, come to think of it.

"Hello!" said the Doctor.

"Hello!" said eight other blokes who were all sitting on her bed and peering at her.

"Who the hell...?" began Rose, sleepily.

"It's only me," said the Doctor. "Several versions of me. All of my previous incarnations, in fact."

"And what is this get-together in aid of?" asked Rose, with a sinking feeling in her stomach to match the one she could feel in her bedsprings.

"Well, you're just so beautiful when you're asleep that I thought all my earlier selves would like to see it too."

"Really? And what's the verdict?" she asked sarcastically.

"Oh, quite lovely," said one of them.

"Most impressive," said another.

"Not bad, I suppose," said another. "Personally, I have very fond memories of that flimsy little pink number that Peri used to float around the place in." A couple of the other Doctors nodded at this, and started to look a bit wistful. Rose rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Oy!" she yelped, and glared at them all fiercely. "Is one of you poking me with something hard?"

"Many apologies," said one of them. "It's just my recorder."

"And urgh, what's this sticky stuff all over the mattress?"

"Sorry," said another one. "Squashed jelly baby."

"Right, the lot of you – out!" she announced. "Now!"

"Oh, come on Rose, have a heart," said her Doctor. "I really messed up my timeline for this. The least you could do is..."

"OUT!!!!" she squealed.

* * * * *

Rose woke up. There didn't seem to be anyone else in or on her bed, which made a refreshing change, but she could hear a voice coming from the far side of the room. It sounded sort of echoey and distant, and she strained to make out what it was saying.

"... also worthy of note is the thrilling juxtaposition of an almost self-consciously ironic paradigm of maidenly innocence with a more knowingly sensual aesthetic, indicative of the.... errr, excuse me a moment."

She sat up and stared into the darkness. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on?" she demanded loudly.

"Hello!" came the Doctor's voice from somewhere above her head. "I hope you don't mind, but you're so beautiful when you're asleep that I invited a few people along to watch."

The lights came up, revealing that her bedroom ceiling had completely disappeared. Above the point where the walls stopped, she could make out what looked like a huge semi-circular arena, filled with row upon row of seats. It was crammed with alien species, some of whom had brought binoculars. Just above the walls, the Doctor was standing on a small viewing platform. He was wearing a light on his head and using it to read from a sheaf of notes. He looked annoyingly cheerful.

"Let me get this straight," said Rose. "You've been SELLING TICKETS???"

The Doctor looked mildly hurt. "A guy's got to a make a living, you know. It may be all right for you to lie around dozing and looking achingly beautiful for hours at a stretch, but someone has to keep you in chips and peroxide."

Rose's reply to this statement was too extensive to recount here, but involved heavy use of the words "thoughtless", "stupid" and "Timelord bastard", as well as including several anatomically detailed suggestions for places into which a sonic screwdriver could be inserted.

"Apologies for this unscheduled interlude," said the Doctor to the audience. "But I think you'll agree, she's still quite beautiful even when she's yelling like a harridan."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Rose shouted, and curled up into a ball under her duvet, making sure that not even a toe could be seen.

The crowd gave what sounded like a groan of disappointment.

"Errr... sorry about that. Slight technical hitch," the Doctor's voice announced perkily. "But please remember that your entry fee also covers Jack in the shower. Plus he'll be signing toiletries after the show. This way, please...."

* * * * *

Rose finished pushing the wardrobe in front of her bedroom door and sighed with relief.

That night she dreamed she was in bed with a Dalek. She could hear the ominous whirr of its eyestalk swivelling in the dark.

"Don't even think about it," she hissed.

"BUT. ROSE. YOU. ARE. SO. BEAUTIFUL. WHEN. YOU. ARE. ASLEEP. AND. BESIDES. I. NEED. YOUR. HELP."

It paused sadly for a moment.

"THE. DUVET. IS. STUCK. ON. MY. BLASTER."

She woke up screaming.


* * * * *
FIN