Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, and I do not own Cosmo.

This is just a quick little fic I thought up when I got halfway through the last chapter of Triangle and needed sometime else on my mind. This was obviously inspired by the latest issue of Cosmo which I read along side too much wine and sweets--and this story was born!

This will only be two chapters long. I'm rating it T for now, but it might get a little raunchy. I'm really bad with determining a rating so if it's too much just let me know and I'll up it to M.

Enjoy!

Pie

Chapter One

Rose lay on her stomach, her knees bent as she swung her legs back and forth. The bed the Doctor had given her was fabulously comfortable. The Doctor had the TARDIS furnish her room with all that is common in the early twenty first century to make her feel comfortable. Even so, Rose was sure the mattress had to be adapted from alien technology.

She licked her finger and turned the page of her magazine. Her eyebrows raised for a minute and she leaned forward for a closer look just as the Doctor in all his pin stripe glory burst in. She jumped up at his unannounced entrance, marked her place, and swiftly tried unsuccessfully to hide it behind her back.

"I tried to make banana meringue pie and blimey it's a bit of a mess out there, I'm lousy at domestics but I made enough pie to last us through most of the cold war if we happened to land there that is—what is that?"

"What's what?" She said a little too quickly. "Don't you think of knocking?"

"It's my ship!" He said a little affronted, and slightly hurt. "What is that you're holding behind your back?"

"It's nothing!"

The Doctor grinned. "Come on. You can tell me." Faster than she expected, he leaped and snatched the magazine from her hands.

"Oi!" She made a feeble attempt to wrestle it back from him, but gave up and slumped back against the headboard. She folded her arms. "I tried to warn you."

The Doctor leafed through the magazine to the place Rose had marked.

Rose studied her cuticles and waited for his reaction. Her face burned but she mentally scolded herself. She was twenty years old. She certainly had a right to read what she wanted.

"'Ninety-Nine Sex Tips'." His voice was monotone as he read the headline and he turned the page.

Rose looked up to see him pulling his glasses out of his breast pocket. Could he really be interested? "Number One: Turn up in a trench coat—" He smirked and looked up at her. "I've got that covered." He returned his eyes to the magazine. "and nothing else. Oh." He cleared his throat. "Number Two: Rub his—" His eyes bulged comically and he turned the page quickly and raised a hand to his mouth. "Oh this is filthy. Rose, what are you reading this for?"

"It's just a mag, Doctor." She grabbed it from his hands and he stared at her.

"Are you looking for…'sex tips'?"

"So what if I am?"

The Doctor's jaw clenched and his brows dropped in a frown. "No. That's fine. You read what you want." He hesitated, his hands stuffed in his pockets, then spun on his heals and walked slowly out the door, closing the door gently behind him.

He entered the messy kitchen and observed the pie. Something didn't feel quite right in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what it was. He was just over nine hundred years old, yet he still could not figure out his own body. He put a hand to his stomach and wondered if he was ill.

Rose must be needing something else in her life and the thought made his stomach turn sour. Any second she could come out of the room and ask to go home, to find someone to settle down with. Someone to practice what she's reading. He thought bitterly. What would he do when she left?

His hands shook as he reached suddenly for a fork and stabbed it violently into the pie. Scooping the center out, he crammed a large amount of banana filling and meringue into his mouth and slumped onto the stool, his elbows on the counter. He stuck the fork back in to the pie and filled his mouth again. Meringue clung to his face but he did not care. He leaned his head forward and let it fall onto the counter with a groan.

Humans. Slaves to their biology. So what if Rose needed a shag, the Doctor thought miserably, he had pie.

Rose's hands trembled as she clutched the magazine to her, attempting to read it again. She had no one to practice these moves on, and she wished she could convey that to the Doctor. For some reason she felt that that knowledge would resolve the situation.

She looked back down at the magazine, read number fifty-five, and giggled. The scalp has many nerve endings. Pull his hair as he finishes— She subconsciously licked her lips as her eyes glazed over. Soft brown hair pulled back, his Adam's apple exposed, and his mouth hanging open. She was startled suddenly when she realized who she was picturing.

The Doctor walked slowly down the corridor and caressed the coral of the TARDIS as he entered the console room. In one hand he clutched the pie to him. The sick feeling in his stomach had not left him. "Need more pie. That's what I need." He stuck the pudding filled fork back into his mouth. The more he ate, the more he hoped he would taste it, but with every forkful, it seemed to taste less and less sweet. "Good thing I made more than one." He thought vaguely and sat on pilots seat, propping his feet up on the console.

Rose. Sex tips. Sex tips for her to use on a bloke. A random bloke. Maybe a bloke she had fancied for a long time but never had the courage to talk to? Maybe a bloke who went to school with her, one who lives at the Powell Estate. As soon as the thoughts came again, he kicked the console viciously then cursed at the pain, spraying pudding. He put the pie down next to him and got up, kicking the console repeatedly. He ignored the pain and instead threw the mallet across the room with all his strength. He felt a small flare of satisfaction and wiped some pie form his face with his sleeve. He liked being in control. He could control the objects around the TARDIS. He put one foot up against the console and tugged at a panel. He growled with effort as he pulled it free, nearly falling as it came loose. He immediately threw the panel forcibly on the grated floor and it shattered.

"Oh yes." He said, staring at the pieces with a manic grin. "More pie."

Maybe it would be a bloke who would treat her horrendously. He took the fork from the pie and threw it across the room, meringue splattering against the central column. This was natural. He thought as he dwelled on the sick feeling. It was his protective side. He just wanted what was best for her. He was like a father-- No. He recoiled. Definitely the wrong thought, he was not a father figure to her.

Nevertheless Rose could be thinking of some boy she might have met on earth. Or worse yet, some big thuggish bloke with biceps the size of the Doctor's head.

He plunged his fist into what was left of the pie and shoveled it into his mouth, barely taking time to breath between gulps.

Number eighty-five: Use pudding. Rose raised her eyebrows and closed the magazine. Now there was a thought.

She sighed and rose from the bed. She better talk to the Doctor and try some of his pie. If he worked hard enough on it, she had better try to choke it down, no matter how awful it may be.

When she entered the kitchen, she froze.

The Doctor was bent over the counter in the kitchen, the side of his pie spattered face resting on the surface. Six empty pie tins lay around him. His jacket and tie lay in a heap on the floor and banana pudding was splattered on his white shirt. "Rose." He groaned. "I might die."

"You…you ate all the pie?" She picked up an overturned tin. It was licked clean. "Doctor. You ate all six pies."

He raised his hand for silence. "Ch-ch-ch-ch- please don't remind me. I know. Not one of my finer moments."

"You, okay?" Rose said, smirking.

"No! I told you I might die! Time Lords probably aren't meant to consume six banana meringue pies—Rose, I think I'm going to be sick." Rose noticed his face was indeed getting rather green. He groaned, clutched his stomach, and pitched off the stool.

"Oh, okay, okay," Rose grabbed him at the shoulders and helped him around the counter. "To the loo, come on."

Rose threw the door to the loo open and pushed the Doctor in the direction of the toilet. He collapsed over the it and spilled the contents of his stomach.

"There goes all that pie you worked so hard on." Rose said, kneeling beside him and rubbing circles on his back. "I hope you won't be off bananas after this."

The Doctor gasped and pulled back. "Nah, not off anything—" He lunged forward again and retched.

Rose rubbed the back of his neck. Even as he vomited, she couldn't help remembering number fifty-five as her fingers combed through his hair.

He pulled back again and Rose offered him a towel which he took gratefully, wiping his mouth. "Scratch that, I am off pie now. Never bananas, but pie filling..." He groaned.

Rose smiled and hugged him around his shoulders, laying her face against his back. "Hope you've learned your lesson." She stood up and left the Doctor to clean himself up. No more pudding. That was number eighty-five out.

A/N: So like I said, just going to do one more chapter for this probably. Please review!