"Stay still, would you?" the Doctor snapped after Rose's movement interfered with the screwdriver's beam again.
The girl nodded and held her breath the moment she heard the sonic start buzzing.
They were currently sitting in the medbay, Rose on the cot, kicking her legs nervously, with the Doctor behind her back, looming over her form.
He was trying futilely to extract the tracking chip installed into Rose's neck when she infiltrated the local government in order to unveil the government's crimes. The compulsory condition before joining the female army was to receive a tracking device - "purely for safety reasons" (as if) and "absolutely harmless" (tell that to the rash on her stomach. And back. And neck.) Rose was accepted enthusiastically and brought the head of the army to justice 36 hours into service.
The head of the army blackmailed the female population of the country into accepting two unfavourable options: give birth after reaching the age of 19 immediately or join the army and protect the streets and laws of the beloved country until retiring. That's it. No other choice. Forced motherhood or tasteless existence in the army. No careers. No entertaining. No enjoying life.
Rose Tyler could never accept that.
Therefore, she and 214 ladies in her regiment overthrew the tyrannical rule and appointed a candidate, chosen by revolutionaries. A brilliant woman named Adija, kind-hearted and wise beyond her years.
So, here they were, the Doctor and Rose, respected revolutionaries in the country Bountania on planet Cear.
And the Doctor was losing his patience.
"Rose, what's the matter with you? I need two minutes of you sitting still to extract the device, and your squirming and jerking doesn't help!"
Rose knew that voice, oh, she knew it. He wasn't really angry, no. He was worried. The minute Rose informed him of experiencing strange rash on her skin he went into a full medical doctor mode, asking her a billion questions about her allergies. He calmed down a bit after she squeezed his hand and told him that it was fine and not serious but he fretted nevertheless. Rose was restless, too, for she didn't like the idea of being tracked by anyone, let alone cruel government. But the Doctor was about to take care of that problem, so...
What was the deal with Rose, you'd ask?
It tickled. The Doctor's long, calloused fingers and the gentle buzz of the sonic made her hold her breath so as not to giggle, kick her legs into air so as not to shy away from the source of tickling.
The screwdriver hummed and buzzed again and Rose squeaked.
Ah. Not good. The Doctor's patience was long gone.
Rose averted her eyes.
"Rose, I'm talking to you. What's the matter? What are you not telling me?" his voice went down a notch or two. "Does anything hurt, Rose? You'd tell me, right?"
She couldn't resist looking into his eyes anymore. Rose met his gaze and bit her lip, anxious.
"Rose?" so soft, so tender, like a quiet prayer after midnight in a room full of sleeping people.
She decided to come clean.
The Doctor widened his eyes comically.
"I beg your pardon?"
Rose shrugged and repeated as if talking to a particularly slow person.
"Your fingers, your sonic - it tickles," she pursed her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "I know I have to keep still but I just can't!"
The Doctor sighed and lowered the screwdriver. He looked away and mulled over something in his mind before turning to her again and asking straightaway.
"Do you trust me, Rose?" his eyes were burrowing deep, deeper into her being, awakening the strange emotions, making her body quiver pleasantly.
She answered honestly.
"Always. You should know that already, Doctor." Rose could never put enough emphasis in this sentence.
The Doctor nodded.
And then the world went dark.
She opened her eyes what seemed like moments later and found herself lying on her stomach on a cot. The Doctor quickly withdrew his hands from her head as she came around.
Rose turned over on her back and pushed up her body on her elbows. She didn't feel strange. Or tired. Or rested. She felt the same.
"What...what was it?"
The man smiled kindly, blue eyes glittering happily in the bright light of the room.
"I knocked you out for four minutes, just enough to take out the chip, no scar, by the way, what without you all but dancing on the stretcher. It's a trick us, Time Lords, can do well. Forced unconsciousness. Absolutely harmless."
He looked worried, Rose noticed. Why was it that he was still worried?
She raised a single eyebrow.
He continued on.
"Ah. It's a telepathic thing, alright? I haven't peeked into your thoughts, Rose, I never would. Just...think of it like of switching the light on or off," the Doctor trailed off, shyly looking into her eyes, "not that anyone could switch your light off, Rose."
She waited a breath for a dramatic effect and then beamed at him. Stupid lump of an alien. Big old softie.
She opened her arms and he stepped into her embrace willingly. Rose could die there and then, die a happy woman in the hug of the man she loved more than the Universe. Not that she'd ever admit so to anyone. Not even to the Universe.
The Doctor returned the hug generously, splaying his palms on her back, holding tight. The duo stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the blissful moments of quiet love.
And then he started tickling her.
The halls of the Tardis were filled with loud giggling and squealing for many minutes after that, and it continued on into the tea time in the library. Muffled snickering and hushed laughter brought solace to the Doctor's tired hearts, and being the only source of the Doctor's attention made Rose's heart do somersaults in her chest.
The moments like this were to live for.