Sleepy Yet?

Disclaimer: The Doctor and Rose Tyler do not yet belong to me I'm afraid. Yet. Haha !

Summary: A Tenth Doctor and Rose story. When talking into the night much tickling mascades. As wells things neither expected... but neither could say they were disapointed either. There's more than one way to win a bet. Pure romance and fluff. One shot.

Oncoming Note: This is just a little something I wrote when feeling a little… fluffy. Usually I write angst, and sci-fi with an added bit of romance. But this is pure fluff… and romance… and kissing… so I don't know if it's any good. But I hope it is. Tell me either way, heh? But be nice, yeah?

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Nope, not at all. Not even a little bit."

"Yeah, you are!"

"Nope."

"I can see you are, Doctor."

A sigh escaped his lips. "I'm telling you, I'm not tired. I don't get sleepy like you do, it's in my biology."

Rose just rolled her eyes. "But I've see you sleep Doctor. Don't deny it."

The Doctor gave another much too dramatic sigh, propping his chin in his palm as he leaned onto his elbow. He and Rose were laid side by side on top of the quilt of Rose's bed. It was a little cramped to say the least; her bed was relatively large, but it wasn't a double. Their legs brushed against each other, their bare feet tickling one another.

It so happened that Rose had not been able to sleep, and the Doctor – on his way to the library – had checked in on her at the right time. They had been talking, and it soon arose that the Doctor had moved from perched on the end of her bed, to lying next to her.

"Yes, I do sleep, when I have to," the Timelord answered. "But that doesn't mean I'm tired right now."

Rose scotched onto her back, her head tilted to face the Doctor as he looked on her, hand supporting his head, grin filling his features. She frowned at the darkness under his eyes, "I still reckon you look tired, you've got dark circles under your eyes." She paused, and smiled, "Go on then, how often d'you sleep?"

The Doctor let a whistle of air escape him as he pondered for a moment. "Ooh, I don't know – once every five days, maybe a week. Something like that."

Rose watched him wistfully, shaking her head and grinning broadly, "Wish I only had to sleep that much."

The Doctor frowned at her, "Why?"

Rose shrugged, her head still tilted up toward him, " Can be a bit pointless at times." She watched as he gave her an inquisitive look. "Don't you think?"

He pondered the question for a moment, "Perhaps. Well, yes actually on some level I do agree, but," he eyed Rose curiously for a moment, "that's only because I like to keep moving. You are human, thought you'd like your beauty sleep. You never seem to want to get out of bed when it's actually time to get up."

"Yeah," she admitted, laughing a little. "I like beds then."

"But not at night?" he asked with a frown. "Well… the Tardis' definition of night anyway. But not when you're tired though? Not right now? You got something against beds Rose?"

She grinned at him, "Oh, I like it right now." The top of her foot stroked his subconsciously. He couldn't say he minded.

"But I'm curious, Rose," he persisted. He moved his elbow, laying his head down next to her, his face inches from hers. "What's wrong with beds when it's time to sleep?"

Rose giggled, "Who said anythin' about beds, Doctor? I said I didn't like the sleep, not the beds."

He frowned slightly, before admitting, "That's true. Go on then, what's so bad about sleeping?"

"Just annoying."

"Of course, of course," he said sarcastically. "Sleep; the annoying habit of the humans."

"Could be," she affirmed.

"Sleep can be good."

"That why you're dropping' off?" she grinned, tongue appearing between her teeth.

"Rose, for the last time: I'm – not – tired!" he protested. The Doctor looked at her seriously as she gave a gleeful laugh at his reaction. He shook his head at her teasing as she continued to chuckle.

"Alright, alright," she said finally. "If you're not tired then does that mean you're gonna stay up the whole night?"

"Of course," the Doctor said as though it were obvious.

Rose let out a disbelieving 'hmm' from her nose, and shook her head. "Betcha you fall asleep before I do."

Now it was the Doctor's turn to chuckle. "Honestly Rose, you don't half make suicidal bets."

"I will," she insisted. "I'll stay up longer than you. You look knackered and I'm wide-awake. Shouldn't be too hard."

"Rose, the whole point of the this time of the Tardis 'day' is so that you can sleep. You won't be much good if you're half asleep when you're running for your life tomorrow will you?"

"I told you, I'm not tired. Trust me."

"Fine, fine, if you really think that I – a mighty Timelord, three times more alert that yourself – will fall asleep before you do?"

"Yep," she confirmed, popping the p in they way she gained more use of since spending so much time with said mighty Timelord. "I do."

He shook his head, chuckling. "You really are impossible, but if you really want to lose another bet, then very well."

"Fine. Ten quid. And what d'you mean 'lose another bet'? I won that one at the Torchwood estate didn't I? Which reminds me, you still owe me that tenner."

The Doctor absentmindedly pulled on his earlobe. "Yeah… forgot 'bout that. But what about that bet the other day, eh? You bet you wouldn't get into trouble on that trip to see the Atopiki, then you go and get yourself kidnapped!"

Rose diverted her eyes, avoiding his gaze. A little difficult when their faces were so close on the pillow. "Wasn't my fault, I didn't know undermining their land as 'too wet' was an offence."

"Didn't have to say it was, though," the Doctor muttered, as he remembered with a quiet clenching of his hearts all the panicked searching and bailing out he'd had to do to get her out of there.

"But it was too wet. It was soaking my feet!" she protested. "Anyway, that was a one off. I'm not tired and you are. So prepare to lose another ten quid."

"Fine, fine. Shouldn't take long anyway, you'll be asleep within the hour."

Rose snorted, "Doubtful. When was the last time you slept?"

"Six days ago," he replied honestly. "And you know what? I'm not going to speak anymore. You'll just use my voice as a distraction from your sleepy ways."

"Ooh, the silent Doctor, how will I cope without him babbling on?" she grinned cheekily, letting him know she was joking.

He didn't reply, just smirked.

Rose turned over in the bed, ignoring him when he protested an, 'oh!' of annoyance as he very nearly slid out of the bed. Rose simply giggled as she rolled on her side. She had the sudden urge to wrap her left arm around him to bring him closer to her. Before she began to wonder if that would break the invisible line their friendship stood in front of, the Doctor pulled Rose around the waist so her hand was nestled on his chest, her face by his neck. She could see each hairline, each mole in perfect clarity. The right of her body was touching his left, her hand feeling the two beating rhythms of his hearts. It was very comfortable.

There was a content silence as they lay by one another, listening to the sounds of each other's gentle breathing. Rose's hand tickled under the dull pressing thumps of the Timelord's hearts. She brought her head closer to him, pressing it against his shoulder. The Doctor gazed up at the ceiling, relaxed for the first time in a while; just content with Rose's company. No running. No fighting. No enemies. Just them.

Rose cocked her head up at him, brushing her cheek against the collar of his jacket. "Doctor?" she whispered.

"Rose?" he breathed, equally quiet. Breaking his promise not to talk without even realising, to which Rose gave a secret smile.

She perched her head further against his shoulder, her breathing sending shivers down his neck. "You smell old," her lips declared, without the permission of her brain. She looked surprised at her own words, but smirked as they left her mouth. It was true after all.

"Old?" the Doctor repeated, but louder. "Well, I'm relatively old I suppose. But what's your definition of smelling old? Old ladies perfume? And – and Bon Marché!? And grey hairs?" He looked a little more than horrified now. "Are you saying I smell grey, Rose?"

Rose giggled into the Doctor's suit. "No," she got out, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "Not that sort of old! I mean old things! Like old leather, and books! You smell a lot like books, and that oldy smell. Don't worry, I quite like it." She grinned.

The Doctor looked at her curiously for a moment, turning over so he could see her properly. "Rose Tyler, are you saying I smell," he cocked an eyebrow up in a way she would have thought was a flirtatious, were it anyone other than the Doctor, "dusty? "

Rose laughed, "No Doctor, you're not quite dusty yet."

"Yet?" His eyebrow raise became suspicious.

"Well, I dunno, once you meet a thousand… you never know." She hesitated for a moment, watching him as he smiled at her. "Will you… will you reach a thousand?"

"Could do," he admitted. "Still got a few regenerations left. If I'm careful I could live for two thousand… or more."

Rose was silent for a while, and the Doctor wandered if maybe he had won the bet and she had fallen asleep, then he worried if perhaps he had upset her. She simply shuffled toward him though, moving her hand over to his right heart.

"Are you alright?" he asked eventually.

"Fine," she replied, looking up and grinning at him. "You smell like bananas too, you know."

He grinned cockily down at her, "You like bananas." He already knew that, it wasn't a question.

She nodded, "I do."

"Good," he said, satisfied. Rose grinned, and her breath caught on the Doctor's neck again. He felt another shiver run down his spine. "You do tickle," he stated.

This made Rose grin even more. "Your neck ticklish?"

"Ah, no," he said quickly, pressing his chin down to his chest in an effort to hide it. Which all but gave him away.

"Ah, you are," she said gleefully. With her hand that wasn't on the Doctor's chest, she took her forefinger gently against the side of his neck, tracing it down to the crook of his shoulder. He let a gasp of laughter and flinched away instinctively, almost falling off of the end of the bed.

"Alright, Rose Tyler, you asked for it," he growled. He sat up and leaned over her, one arm arched over her body, so he was looking down at her. His other arm ran under her chin.

"Hey!" she protested through laughter.

The Doctor grinned manically, his face looming over her making her laugh all the more, his hair tickling her nose. His hands explored her neck and stomach, and her room echoed with laughter as he reached the sensitive part of her collarbone. She somehow managed to push him back, hands reaching his neck, and they laughed feverishly, the Doctor back on top of her again.

They stilled where they were for a moment, their foreheads pressed against one another, eyes so close their lashes were almost touching. Their laughter quietened.

"Nice freckles," Rose whispered, eyeing the layer of small dots that covered the area around his nose.

He grinned and she burst into another fit of laughter. It was contagious and it wasn't long before he was chuckling with her, their breathing catching each other's faces.

The kiss came from nowhere.

Neither could say who initiated it; one minute their eyes were closed with harried chuckles, then next their lips met and a sudden silence fell. Though they were both too immersed in each other to notice such abrupt quiet.

It was sweet and soft at first, which developed into more of a frenzied passion the more their tongues explored. Their fervour, locked in the kiss, could have lasted mere seconds, or perhaps several glorious hours, but either way they pulled apart much too soon, in the Doctor's eyes. Although he realised they did actually need to breathe. Still, it ended too quickly.

His forehead rested on Rose's, his eyes closed as their lips gently lost contact. His mouth was still hung slightly open, gasping, but gentle, breaths escaping him. Rose doing the same, the corners of her mouth twitched up as she gazed at him.

"That was…" she began, but could think of nothing to fully describe it.

"Yes…" he breathed, equally unable to form words.

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, then seeming to notice where he was – on top of his companion in her bed – he rolled over onto his side. Feeling Rose's disappointment at the loss of contact, he took her hand and coiled it around his chest, her hand on his hearts.

The thud of both hearts had never felt so hard against her hand, sending jolts through it pleasantly. She rested her head by his shoulder, and felt him pull her around the waist closer to him. She could feel his eyes on her face, and hear his gentle breathing. Her own heart was drumming in rhythm in her head, but she was becoming increasingly more comfortable, lying there with him. Much more than comfortable; so very relaxed.

Their bet forgotten, Rose soon found herself falling into slumber in the tranquil, warm arms of the Doctor.

And as he smiled down at her, hugging her close, said Doctor couldn't help thinking that though there were many ways to win a bet, this was by far the best for both.

Reviews would be fabulous…