The Tardis wanted her to go to the library, Rose knew that for sure. The lights in the halls switched on to her left when she was about to turn to her room after enjoying a hefty midnight snack (she blamed PMS for that) and spending time in the media room catching up on “Gone with the Wind” adaptation from the 22nd century. Rose thought she’d enjoy the pretty dresses and the atmosphere of the generations long lost but she was disappointed because the story was hardly about love, fashion and courting rules in the 19th century - it was about war.
The topic Rose Tyler didn’t fancy much even before she met the Doctor and seeing wars unfold before her very eyes. She never liked diving into the war history of her own country, she never liked period dramas concentrated on the war as their main plot. And there were so many...probably because them, people, were very stupid per Doctor’s words and could do nothing better but fight fruitlessly against each other instead of living peacefully on the planet.
Come to think of it, it was stupid. Fighting, that is. Starting wars, promoting them. But it wasn’t up to humans like Rose and her peers to decide. Working class people, never to sow the fruits of their labour fully, never to enjoy life carelessly and without fear of being left with nothing. They couldn’t even decide the fate of their country for it were the high and mighty who chose to start the conflicts or to end them.
Rose shook her head vigorously and marvelled at how her mind went from eating a full package of crisps after midnight to the hopeless and bleak future of the working class on the planet Earth.
And, according to year five billion, not only on Earth.
Still, Rose sighed heavily and followed the reddish lights of the Tardis that were leading her to the library room.
When Rose entered the library, she understood immediately why the Tardis wanted her to visit the room.
There, on the sofa, splayed hazardly and quietly snoring, was the Doctor.
Mister “Need no sleep, Rose”. Mister “Superior biology”. Mister “You apes could sleep your life away if it weren’t for you being hungry and addicted to sex”.
Oh, yes, the Doctor actually said those words to her, making the milk come out of her nose that morning in the galley and panicking when Rose couldn’t breathe normally for three minutes afterwards. He still wasn’t sure if the shocking red that spilled over her cheeks and the top of her breasts (generously demonstrated by the ridiculously low-cut pajama top she was wearing) was the result of his sex-related quip or because she choked on the milk.
Perhaps, the two events were related.
Yet here the Doctor was, in all his sleeping glory.
And oh, glorious he was. He still looked like himself, the wrinkles on his forehead never disappeared, his baby blue eyes were hidden behind the slightly trembling eyelids. Still, he seemed softer, less dangerous, less like a coiled spring and Rose smiled briefly. It was high time the Doctor took some respite from protecting the Universe’s order even if he denied it being his job vehemently.
Rose was startled out of her reverie by the sound of the Doctor’s voice.
“No, no, not the green ones. You’ll take a bite and it’ll be too sour and then it’s up to me to think what to do with the rest of the apples," his lips twitched as he murmured something unintelligible after that, "no, Rose, we can’t go horse-riding just because you’ve got spare apples to feed to the horses.”
Oh my God! Rose snickered and put her hand to her lips to muffle her laughter.
The Doctor was talking! In his sleep! And...and...he was discussing domestics with her in his dream!
Oh what a time to be alive, Rose mused as she stretched her lips in a mischievous grin.
Doctor’s hands flexed, he muttered something unidentifiable under his breath, snorted, dropped the book he was holding in his hands and awoke at once.
Rose watched in disbelief as a copy of “Gone with the Wind” slipped to the floor as the Doctor sat up and focussed his eyes on her silhouette at the door jamb. Rose couldn’t help it. He looked so lost, so...ruffled and sleepy, so ready to be held and loved by her...she stepped into the dimly-lit room and watched as his eyes widened as he emerged from the hold of the dreams he saw.
She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop the wave of tender love that hit her like a tsunami that moment. She sat on the sofa near the Doctor and crushed him into a bone-shattering hug.
Either he was still out of it or he didn’t really mind being hugged by her, but he let the sudden wave of emotions that assaulted Rose find an outing in the form of the hug.
Several quiet minutes were spent quietly, interrupted only by Rose’s gentle breathing pattern, the Doctor’s almost mechanical one and by the calming creaking of the wood in the library fireplace.
She relaxed her hold on him and avoided his questioning stare as she tucked her hair behind the ears. Stubborn locks. Never stayed put even with a bobble.
Rose felt his calloused hands touch the base of her neck carefully making her meet his eyes.
“What’s that for, then?”
Rose knew that if it wasn’t for the poor lightning in the library she would look like a tomato, that’s how hard she felt herself blushing. She couldn’t very well admit to overhearing him talking in his sleep, right? She couldn’t confess her undying love to him, could she?
She closed her eyes, embarrassed, and blurted out the only explanation that came to mind.
“Oh, I...I dunno. I guess it’s the hormones' doing, sorry. Stupid female bodies, eh? Feel strange before it, feel bad during it…,” she still couldn’t pronounce the blasted “p” word while talking to men. Stupid 21st century morales regarding women’s health!
The Doctor sighed and patted her hair while tugging her close again. Rose accepted the hug willingly and enjoyed the rumbling of his voice close to her ears.
“Human females. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. It’s not stupid, Rose Tyler. That’s the way Nature wants you to be," he added in soft while stroking her hair lovingly. "Come on then, up you get! I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate that will send you into the sweetest dreams you’ve ever had, and I’ll even let you choose the movie for tomorrow’s night in.”
The Doctor stood up energetically and helped her stand while tucking the copy of “Gone with the Wind” carefully under the velvet sofa with the toe of his boot.
Rose bit her lip and smiled but didn’t have it in her heart to call him out on his choice of reading.