a/n: This one is a little different for me, but it was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. Hopefully it won't be too confusing. Flashbacks are in italics.

Dance With Me

Mouth against open mouth, with one hand cupping her face and the other tightly fisting her hair, the Doctor walked Rose backwards until her back was pressed against the narrow section of wall between the doors to the men's and women's toilets.

"You're wrong, Jack," Rose said. "He doesn't want me."

The music of the club was only slightly muffled by the wall separating the corridor from the dance floor, where Jack was still dancing with a pair of fraternal twins, one, or both, of whom he hoped to go home with that night.

"Oh, he wants you all right," Jack said to her. "The looks he gives you when you aren't looking… The look he gave me."

As tongues danced, the heavy sound of the bass pounded through the hallway, in sync with the beat of Rose's heart.

"What look? When?" Rose asked.

She wrapped her arms around him. Desperate to touch him, she moved her hands under his leather jacket, under his blue jumper. Warm palms met the cool skin of his back.

"When I first came onboard and you two were dancing," Jack said. "The look he gave me definitely said 'hands off'. He doesn't want anyone else touching you."

The Doctor's fingers traced a path downward, down her side, over her hip, only coming to rest when he reached the curve of her bum. He yanked her tightly against himself, and she could feel exactly how much he wanted her, how hard he was underneath his jeans.

"If that's true, then why'd he let me call Mickey?" Rose asked.

"Because the man can't deny you anything," Jack said.

Rose moved a hand between them, to where he was straining against his jeans.

The Doctor caught her wrists and lifted her hands high above her head.

"No," he said firmly.

"Except the one thing I really want," she said.

He returned to kissing her, his lips hard against her mouth, demanding entrance. Again she opened her mouth under his, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

"What is it you want, Rose?" Jack asked.

She bit her lip and looked away, suddenly shy. "All I want is him."

After several long, incredible, blissful moments, his lips traced a line to her jaw and upward. One word, low, urgent, whispered in her ear while he thrust, hard and insistent, against her stomach.

"TARDIS."

Trying to catch her breath, she shook her head. "Too far away."

After a pause, the Doctor nodded.

"Does he know that?" Jack asked.

"Yes. No," she said, immediately contradicting herself. "I don't know. I thought he did, but I don't know anymore."

Rose grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and the Doctor let her pull him to a door further down the corridor. Once they were there, he pressed her against the door and kissed her again, deeply, urgently. She reached behind her, fumbling for the doorknob. It wouldn't move. "Damn. It's locked," she told him.

"Well, it's obvious to me how you feel about him, but maybe not to him," Jack said. "We are talking about the Doctor here."

She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah."

Without looking, the Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the doorknob. After a whir of the sonic and a snap of the lock disengaging, the door swung open. He pulled away from her long enough for both of them to glance in the room. It was a storage cupboard, filled to capacity with mops, brooms, and other cleaning supplies. He said something under his breath, something the TARDIS didn't translate but that Rose had always thought was alien swearing.

She pulled him to the end of the corridor, near the emergency exit.

Standing on her tiptoes, she moved her mouth to his neck. She pushed into him, nibbling and sucking a small spot near his collarbone. He allowed her to move him backwards while his own lips sought to kiss any part of her he could reach. With a loud thud, his back hit the wall behind him.

She slipped her hands back under his jumper, this time to feel the strong, lean muscles of his stomach before moving upwards. Hands flat against his chest, she felt the alien staccato of his hearts under her palms before she moved downward again. She reached around to cup his fabulous arse. She squeezed, pulling him closer.

"I have an idea," Jack said.

The Doctor let out a low groan of pleasure. Then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "Not here."

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly. "Right here, right now."

Both breathing heavily, his blue eyes met her brown ones for the span of several of her heartbeats. Quietly, as if from a great distance, the music still pounded, and with a groan of inevitability, he pointed his sonic towards the nearest light bulb. A whir and a pop and the light went out. He slipped the screwdriver back in his pocket.

Jack led her to the wardrobe room. "When I was looking for a clean shirt, I spotted something that I think will fit you."

"What about the other one?" she asked.

"No." The look he gave her, dark, lustful, possessive, made her heart skip a beat. "I want to be able to see you," he said.

Her mouth twisted into a grin before she yanked his head back to hers.

The short, sleeveless dress that Jack had spotted was made of a soft, black fabric that almost begged to be touched. The gathered material of the bodice hugged her curves and plunged front and back, revealing the curves of her breasts and leaving her back almost bare, while the skirt flared, making it perfect for dancing. She had paired it with black, glittery sandals with four inch stiletto heels.

"What do you think?" Rose asked nervously.

Rose moved her hands to undo his belt and began to sink to her knees. The Doctor stopped her.

"No," he said.

Jack twirled a finger and she spun in a circle. The skirt floated around her for a moment before coming back to rest. He nodded.

"Wear that tonight," he said. "If that doesn't do the trick, nothing will."

The Doctor slipped one of her shoulder straps off her shoulder and lowered his head to her breast. At the feel of his mouth on her, she gasped and arched her back into him, seeking more. As he sucked harder, she moved her hands to the back of his head, running her fingertips through his closely cropped hair and holding him in place.

As he flicked the hard bud of her nipple with his tongue, he moved one hand beneath the hem of her skirt, pressing his palm against her inner thigh and moving upward, only stopping when he reached her knickers. He slipped a finger underneath the silky fabric and traced the edge of her opening.

"Oh, god, yes," she said.

"See you later, Doc," Jack said.

The Doctor looked up from his position sitting under the TARDIS console. Loose wires hung all around him. "Where are you two going?"

"Jack's takin' me to a club," Rose told him.

Without moving his mouth, the Doctor withdrew his hand from her knickers. She whimpered at the loss.

Until she felt him roughly yank them downward. After she stepped out of them, they disappeared into his pocket.

A shadow passed over the Doctor's face.

"You could come with, you know," Jack told him.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, his long, cool fingers returned. One, and then two fingers dipped inside, curving, rubbing, while his thumb flicked against her clit.

"Three's a crowd," the Doctor countered.

"Not where I come from," Jack said. "Of course, if you don't want to…"

The Doctor gave them both a wide grin. "Didn't say I didn't want to," he said brightly.

A third finger joined the others, stretching her. She clenched around them and thrust against his hand.

He really does have the moves, she thought.

She felt him grin against her skin.

The Doctor stood up and stuck his sonic screwdriver in his jacket pocket. "Just give me a second to change my jumper."

"Don't bother," Rose said. She brushed a bit of dust off it and then looked up. She gave him a cheeky grin, the tip of her tongue appearing between her teeth. "I like this one."

He grinned again, this time only for her. Taking her hand, he led the way out the door. Rose looked over her shoulder at Jack.

Jack gave her a wink.

The Doctor effortlessly lifted her up. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. He reversed their positions, and Rose felt the wall, smooth and cool, against the bare skin of her back.

"I get the first dance," Jack said, leading Rose to the dance floor of the club before the Doctor could object.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Doctor glower at him.

Once on the dance floor, Rose moved sensuously to the music, ostensibly with Jack, but actually by herself as he seemed to have moved on to dancing with two other people, a man and a woman, twins she heard them tell him over the almost deafening sounds of the club.

She closed her eye and gave herself over to the music, imagining herself with the Doctor, dancing with him in the club.

In the console room.

In his bed.

As the song ended, Rose opened her eyes to see the Doctor watching her from a table in the far corner of the room. Their eyes met.

She crossed the room to stand in front of him.

She held out her hand.

"Dance with me."

His hands shifted, and one strong arm moved under her bum, holding her up.

The Doctor took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She began to lead the way to the dance floor.

And then he stopped her. And pulled her out a door at the side of the room.

Once in the hall, Rose's eyes met his, dark swallowing the blue. And she finally saw what Jack had seen from the beginning, a look filled with lust and longing. And adoration.

And love.

"Rose Tyler," he said in a low voice. "Dance with me."

With his spare hand he fumbled beneath her. She heard the sound of a zipper and then felt his tip press against her core. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moaned.

He spun her into his arms. His hands moved to her hips, and hers to the back of his neck.

And alone in the hall, they swayed to the music.

And as the music ended, they kissed.

"Shh," the Doctor whispered in her ear. "You don't want anyone to hear us."

Rose nodded, although she doubted anyone would be able to hear them over the sound of the music, and at that moment she didn't particularly care even if they could.

It began softly, just a gentle brush of lips.

She didn't know who had moved first, and she didn't know if it mattered. What mattered was that it had happened, that they had crossed that carefully drawn line that had never been crossed before.

Teeth clashed as it quickly became hard, bruising, as long pent up passions forced themselves to the surface.

She opened her mouth underneath his, deepening it, and he responded with a moan rumbling deep within his chest. One large hand cupped her face, the other moved to the back of her head. Long fingers threaded themselves in her hair, holding her close.

He slowly pressed forward, his tip barely entering her before withdrawing.

Jack was right, Rose thought.

The Doctor abruptly set her back down on the floor and pulled away from her far enough to look her in the face. His eyes, dark with desire and jealousy, met hers. "No mentioning other men right now, Rose Tyler," he growled.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, wondering if she had ruined the moment. "Didn't think I said that out loud."

"You didn't," he said. His mouth moved back to her throat, nipping and sucking, and she sighed in relief. He wasn't angry with her. Or at least not angry enough to stop what they were doing. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

"Then how did you…"

"You know I'm a bit telepathic," he said between kisses. "A touch telepath. And we're doin' a whole lot of touchin' right now. I'm tryin' to stay out of your head, but you are broadcasting so loudly… And that you might have well have said out loud. And I won't have you thinkin' about other men, not in any context, when you're with me."

The Doctor spun her around so she faced the wall.

"What…"

"Lean forward and spread your legs," he ordered quietly.

Rose rested her forearms against the wall and automatically moved her feet apart, allowing him to step between them. He rested one elbow against the wall, supporting himself and allowing his hand to cup her breast. As he gently squeezed, a fresh wave of desire shot through her.

She felt the back of her dress lift. His hand caressed her bum before moving to grasp her hip, steadying her. He pressed against her entrance again, and then with one swift movement he was deep inside. She gasped at the intrusion, an instant of pain immediately replaced by pleasure.

He slowly withdrew and then pressed back in, incredibly, fantastically deeper.

With each long, slow stroke, he moved deeper still until he was fully sheathed, stretching her, filling her, buried inside her more deeply than she had ever imagined possible. With every movement forward she quietly moaned. She tilted her hips backward, meeting him stroke for stroke. Need replaced desire, seeking fulfillment.

She turned her head and he captured her lips with his own, gently sucking on her lower lip, pulling it into his mouth for a moment before releasing it. And as he moved within her, lips caressed and tongues danced.

He moved his fingers around her, gently gliding fingers through her curls until he reached her clit. He caressed her, lightly at first, and then more and more firmly, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Her desire, her need, coiled deep within her, spiraling upward, craving release until finally she shattered into a million brilliant pieces. Lips on hers, he swallowed her cries as he slowed, continuing to stroke her without and within, extending her orgasm and bringing her down gently.

Once she had caught her breath, he sped up again, thrusting harder and harder still until he pounded into her, seeking his own release. He dropped his head to her shoulder with the effort, his breath coming out in short, hard pants, interspersed with words she couldn't understand that he muttered under his breath against her skin.

As he moved, she moved with him, her own need building again, higher than before.

Finally with a shout, his body stiffened and he pulsed inside her, and she joined him, crying out his name in ecstasy.

Breathing hard, he rested his cheek against her shoulder.

"Oh, Rose," he whispered. "If you had any idea… If you only knew…"

Instead of continuing the thought, the Doctor pressed a kiss against her shoulder and, mindful of the possibility of them still being caught, he pulled away. She turned around to face him, and after they had adjusted their clothing, he pulled her back into his arms. Rose snuggled into him, her arms wrapped around him under his jacket and her cheek pressed against his jumper. He kissed the top of her head.

"So, what was Jack right about?" the Doctor asked, seemingly apropos of nothing considering the circumstances.

"The dress," she told him. "He said that if I wore this dress, things would change between us."

The Doctor snorted. He shook his head.

"Wasn't the dress," he said. "It was you. You and Mickey are over."

"You were waiting for me?" she asked incredulously. "But you never said… If you had only said something…"

"Didn't want to be the reason you broke up," he told her.

She laughed ruefully. "But you were, sort of. Mickey knew. He knew how I felt about you. He probably knew before I did." She paused for a moment and then looked up at him. "So it really wasn't the dress."

"Well, maybe a little," he allowed, and she gave him a cheeky grin.

"So, what now?" she asked.

"Dunno. We could go back inside, if you want," he said, misunderstanding her, possibly deliberately.

"No, I'm done with the club," she told him.

"And dancing?"

"Nah, I'm never gonna be done with dancing," she said vehemently.

He slowly smiled. "Then let's go back to the TARDIS," he said. "And dance."