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“I think we should stay in tonight. Netflix and chill.”
Rose just barely managed to catch the tea that had come erupting from her lips before she sprayed it like a fountain, managing to just lose a little on her blouse.
“Rose? Are you alright?” the Doctor asked, concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Rose said, dabbing at her shirt. “I just don’t know that I heard you right. ‘Netflix and chill’, did you say?”
“Yes!” he said happily. “I rather like the thought. Seems like a grand idea to me.”
Rose looked at him suspiciously. “Doctor, where did you hear the term ‘Netflix and chill’?”
He waved his hand absently. “Just picked it up somewhere in the 2010’s while we were there a few days ago.”
Rose blinked at him. “Do you know what it means?”
“‘Course I do!” The Doctor looked at her as if she’d dribbled on her shirt - again. “Honestly, Rose. I’m a genius, remember?”
Rose ducked her head to the side, avoiding his gaze. There was no possible way the Doctor knew that ‘Netflix and chill’ meant having sex on the couch. He was just as he so often was: oblivious. She debated for a minute about whether to tell him what he’d just done - that he’d basically propositioned her - but decided not to. There was no need to embarrass him when he was unlikely to ever say it to anyone else. No matter how much she wished he knew what he was talking about when he said it to her.
No, Rose, she thought. There is absolutely no chance that if you tell him what it means, he’ll propose it again. You’ll ruin the night you could have had cuddling in front of the fire and TV with your frankly magnificent, utterly clueless Time Lord. Just go with it, Rose.
She looked back up at him and smiled brightly. “Netflix and chill sounds wonderful, Doctor.” Boy, was that an understatement. “What are we watching?”
The Doctor scoffed and Rose shook her head. “The West Wing. Of course. How silly of me.”
~*~O~*~
Several hours later, the Doctor leaned forward to put the empty popcorn bowl on the table in front of them, jostling Rose in the process. He leaned back to his comfy place on the couch and Rose resumed her comfy position nuzzled up against him. The Doctor draped his arm loosely around Rose's shoulders again, rubbing a small circle on her arm with his thumb absently.
“I have very mixed feelings about Toby,” the Doctor said out of nowhere.
“Oh?” Rose said curiously.
“Yes. Brilliant actor, of course, but the character...I don’t know how I feel about him.”
“I love him. He reminds me of the first you.”
The Doctor craned his neck a bit to look down at her. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s a grumpy old sod with a heart of gold. Just like you.”
“Well,” the Doctor cocked his head to the side, chuffed.
“Shh!” Rose shushed him. “I love this part.”
Ainsley came onscreen and asked about the flowers on Donna’s desk. Josh jumped up and claimed credit much to Donna’s chagrin. Sam, being Sam, volunteered the whole story.
Rose sighed happily. “I love that Josh celebrates their ‘anniversary’. I wish they’d get their heads out of their arses and realize they love each other.”
“Oi! We have an anniversary!
Rose patted the Doctor on his left heart. “Yes, Doctor. I know. You’re very good at remembering.”
The Doctor wasn't satisfied. "Remember, I took you to Woman Wept the first year, then to Barcelona the next. Haven't decided about this year, though. It's coming up soon, I need to hurry.”
She beamed up at him with her hand still resting over his heart. “You’re so sweet.”
“M’not sweet,” he grumbled.
“You are, too.”
“You’re just comparing me to Josh because you like him and think he' sweet.”
She sighed contentedly again. “I don’t like him, I love him.”
“Oi!”
“Problem?”
“What’s Josh Lyman got that I don’t have?”
“Nothing. You’re quite alike.” Especially in that you can’t get your head out of your arse and realize that the woman in front of you is in love with you, Rose thought.
“That’s patently untrue,” the Doctor said, crackling with indignity.
“How so?”
“Well, for starters," the Doctor thought for a second and Rose stifled a giggle. "We don’t look alike.”
The giggle was determined to escape, but she bit it back. “You’re both handsome.”
“My hair is much better than his, Rose.”
No arguing that, she thought. “Point taken.”
“And I’m not nearly as obtuse as Josh is.”
Rose stiffened a minuscule amount before she relaxed. The fact that he didn’t realize he was so obtuse just proved how obtuse he actually was.
“For example, I’m quite aware that there is a woman who wants me.”
She froze.
The Doctor’s voice had gone lower, a bit huskier. “I’m not at all ignorant of the fact that that woman is a beautiful blonde and is currently nestled in my arms.”
Rose was perfectly still, her mind racing. The Doctor shifted in his seat, sitting up a bit. Rose didn’t look up at him, afraid the spell would break. She just wanted this moment, this one tiny moment, to believe that he wanted her.
The Doctor looped his finger and tipped Rose’s chin up to him. His voice was low and smooth... dark chocolate and sin. “And I’m not such a fool as to leave her longing. Not when I want her so much, too.”
Rose looked at him then, wild hope beating against her chest she tried to tamp down. The Doctor was smiling softly, his dark brown eyes darting from her eyes to her mouth. Without thinking, Rose parted her lips just a little and darted out her tongue to moisten them. That seemed to be all the Doctor needed. He pressed his lips to hers and released her chin, slipping his arms around her as if to keep her from leaving.
It was probably a good idea, because Rose felt quite sure that she would float away if he weren’t holding her.
He broke away after a moment and spoke. “Rose?”
Rose couldn’t open her eyes. What if he wanted to tell her he’d made a mistake? What if he apologized and said he regretted it? What if he told her her snogs were sub-par or - oh god, she’d had pasta for dinner. What if she smelled like garlic? What if he told her to go brush her teeth and gargle!?
She screwed her eyes tighter in humiliation.
“Rose? Look at me, please.”
Slowly, reluctantly, she obeyed, bracing herself.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“If you were in trouble, I wouldn’t stop for mauve anything.” Rose whimpered when his mouth descended onto hers again.
~*~O~*~
Quite a while later, the Doctor and Rose lay on the couch, both looking thoroughly debauched. The Doctor lay on his back with Rose draped across him, her hand covering his right heart and his fingers tracing patterns absently up and down her arm.
“The couch was an interesting place for our first time, yeah?”
“Excellent phraseology there, but just a bit incorrect. In that sentence, the word ‘time’ should be plural, Rose." She could hear the smug smile in his voice. "I seem to remember you enjoying yourself quite a lot. Multiple times,” he crowed and she giggled. “I like your use of the word ‘first’ there, though. Implies there will be many more …times… to follow.”
Rose’s head snapped up. “You want there to be?”
“God, yes,” he growled and rolled them so that they were facing each other, claiming her mouth for the hundredth time that evening. “I want there to be many,” he nibbled her bottom lip, “many,” he kissed down her jaw, “many more nights of Netflix and chill,” he said around her earlobe, which he then properly sucked.
Rose jerked her head back to look at him. “Hang on. Did you know the whole time…?”
“What ‘Netflix and chill’ meant?” The Doctor gave her a cheeky grin. “‘Course I did.”
Rose was surprised. “Then why did you…?”
The Doctor grinned again, this time an odd mix of sheepish and wolfish. “I really wanted to use the ‘red lights’ line. I've wanted to since the first time we saw the episode.”
“You daftie.”
He smiled against her neck, where he’d begun nibbling again. “Your daftie, now.”
“What does that make me, then?” Rose asked on a sigh.
“Mine. All mine.”
