*Author's note: I'm a non-fiction writer by trade, but this is my FIRST EVER fictional piece. I'm having so much fun writing it, but would love any and all constructive comments. Thanks and hope you enjoy! It'll get smuttier, promise.*

Rose pursed her lips together trying not to smile as he slowly wrapped his head around the rules she'd just explained. Of course, she realized he was pretending to catch on slowly in order to prove a point. If he could instantaneously understand the most complex thermos in quantum physics then he surely could grasp the rules of an Earth card game. But being the Time Lord that he is, he had to let her know that he found her suggestion so ridiculous - so ridiculous - that even he might not grasp the concept. Her eyes ached from holding back the roll he so deserved.

"So you shuffle the deck and deal the cards evenly between us?"

"Yes."

"But we can't look at our cards or put them in any logical order?"

"Nope"

"So we just hold the cards blindly in a pile and then we count to three?"

"Yeah."

"And we both yell 'shoot!' and each put a random card down?"

"Mmhmm."

"And whoever has the higher card wins the round?"

"Now you're getting it."

"And whoever ultimately winds up with all of the cards wins the game?"

"Bingo!"

Rose literally had to bite her tongue to keep it from peeking out the side of her mouth in a cheeky smile. With each question he asked, his voice grew more incredulous and she grew more thrilled. In her nearly two years traveling with the Doctor in the TARDIS Rose had played her fair share of alien card games. While the deck of cards seemed to be universal among most planets - the same diamonds, spades, clovers, and hearts - the rules were always overly complicated and unfamiliar, resulting in the Doctor winning every. single. game.

And under TARDIS rules, the loser had to do the winner's bidding for the next hour. Over the years, this had resulted in Rose devoting many hours to doing things like organizing the Doctor's trainer collection, polishing his favorite bits of the console, and helping him experiment with different types of back combing. She didn't mind it necessarily - especially the part where she got to run her fingers through his hair - but she couldn't help but have contempt for his growing smugness. Whenever he asked her to play a new game from some planet she never heard of, she assumed he merely wanted to have her at his mercy for the ensuing hour.

But not this time. Finally, finally, the Doctor had allowed Rose to choose the game.

"And this is called War?" His eyebrows were raised so high at this point she wondered if they would soon fly off his head. "But this is completely a game of chance. What has that got to do with war?"

"That sounds like a great philosophical discussion we can have - after I school your Time Lord behind in War," Rose said, as her tongue broke free and sneaked out on the right side of her smile.

My she is clever, he thought as his eyes drifted down to the corner of her lips where she quickly retracted her tongue. He felt a hint of concern that she believed her only way to beat him at a game was via chance and made a mental note to make sure she became more confident in her intellectual prowess later. But for now, he could see that she was in a taunting mood and the thought of her winning a game excited him more than he was ready to admit.

They sat kitty-corner at the square wooden table in the TARDIS kitchen. Rose was always fond of the table - a homey touch in a spaceship that was otherwise made of metallic-like alien fibers. She ran her fingers over the grain as the Doctor dealed out the cards, which he had insisted on doing. Looking up, Rose realized that his eyes were not on the task at hand but rather on her hand. Watching him, she traced a knot in the wood that ran diagonally across the table, in his direction. His card sorting never slowed, nor did a card land out of place, but his eyes followed her fingers as they drew patterns on the tabletop.

His mind drifted to the times Rose traced circles on his palm with her thumb when they held hands, the times her fingers lightly dragged down from his neck to his back when they hugged, and that one glorious time when she ran her hands through his hair, pretending to be grumpy, but clearly as delighted as he was as evidenced by the ever-present tongue at the corner of her mouth. He had reveled in the closeness of her, her chest at eye level as he sat on a chair in front of her bathroom mirror while she gelled and combed his hair in a number of ways. He loved the sensation of her fingers as they raked along his skull, her stomach leaning into his shoulder and her breasts grazing his ear as she stood on tiptoes to gain a better vantage point. How he remained seated in that moment, with his hands tactfully arranged on his lap, he still didn't know. He shuddered at the memory and chuckled to himself - now that had been his best post-win hour yet.

"I hope you're not imagining yourself winning just yet,' she scolded at the sound of his laugh, jolting him out of his memory and into the realization that she had been watching him watching her.

"I'm just contemplating which bit the TARDIS would like polished next," he grinned, recovering quickly.

She side-eyed him, gathering up her cards. The tension between Rose and the Doctor - a tension that had existed since the moment his previous form took her hand and yelled "run!" - had become more tangible in recent months. Hugs lingered longer, hands caressed more sensually, looks exchanged more intensely. And yet, it was as if there were a line in the sand that both were hesitant to cross. Because if they crossed it who knows what would happen, and neither knew if they were quite willing to chance it. And weren't they happy as they were, traveling amongst the stars with each other's hand to hold?

"Okay, here we go, are you ready?" Rose asked leaning forward in her chair with excitement, her hand poised over the card at the top of her pile. "One, two, three, shoot!"

She flipped over a Jack (a card that always made her smile, thinking of the Captain) and the Doctor revealed a 2. Rose smiled and her tongue protruded between her teeth as far as it allowed - this game was certainly off to a good start.

Forty five minutes later and Rose realized she had forgotten how long this game could go on for, especially with just two players.

The Doctor sighed, growing frustrated, and slouched in his chair extending his long legs under the table. They brushed against Rose's and there they stayed, both enjoying the physical confirmation of the other's presence, even if only through their calves behind fabric. Rose slowly moved her leg back and forth, pretending to be lost in thought while shuffling her slightly larger pile of cards, but all the while her mind was on the the muscles she could feel beneath the bottom part of her jeans and his trousers.

The annoyance the Doctor was feeling at this drawn out and frankly quite boring human card game instantly morphed into another feeling all together when her leg first moved against his. A flash of warmth spread through him and he scrutinized her face, inwardly laughing at her attempt at aloofness. Now this was a game he could play and win. He began to remove his suit jacket and Rose suddenly snapped into alertness, her head turning toward him instinctively. He tossed the jacket on the back of the empty chair next to him and stretched luxuriously with a groan, throwing his head back and closing his eyes so that Rose could take it all in without feeling self-conscious.

When he heard the sharp - albeit faint - intake of air next to him he knew he had achieved the desired effect. Rose couldn't help it. Her mouth went slightly slack at the sight of his biceps straining as he stretched his arms upward and then from one side to the other, revealing his pectoral muscles beneath the tight-fitting gray tee. With his head tilted back, she noticed the cut of his jawline and the dark covering of stubble that was a result of two days without shaving - something new he was trying out, he had told her. She loved the look on him and had been yearning to run her hands over his face, feeling the roughness on her skin. It was at this point Rose realized he was teasing her. The stretch had lasted much longer than his normal neck-rolls or shoulder rotations. He wanted her to leer.

Feeling enough time had passed, the Time Lord opened his eyes to meet Rose's darkening gaze and rested his arms back on the table.

"Can't we just call it a draw, Rose?" he moaned. "I'll even forfeit and do whatever you say for an hour, if that's all you're after. So long as I don't have to fight another inane battle of chance with my strategy-less suited soldiers."

Rose was tired of playing too, and now she had other things on her mind, but she wasn't going to let him get out of it that easy. She crossed her arms and leaned forward on the table, purposefully pushing her breasts together for better viewing in her deep-V-neck tee-shirt. She saw him steal the quickest of glances and sneered slightly.

"Oh no mister, you're not getting out of this that easy!" she said, looking at him with mockingly furrowed brows. "But don't worry, I've got something in my room that will make things much more interesting. Back in a tick!"

And she was out of her chair, strutting across the kitchen toward the hallway that led to her bedroom, making sure to switch her hips more than usual. She could feel his eyes on her back as she briskly walked out the door.