honey trap pic
Chapter One

Two: Lazy Days and Sunshine


‘Welcome, welcome! Dr and Mrs Smith, welcome! You are most…’

‘Welcome.  Yes, thank you!’  The Doctor walked towards the oncoming alien, his hand thrust forward invitingly.  The short, rotund, little man that had been speaking took the Doctor’s proffered hand and pumped it enthusiastically. 

‘It really is a delight, a veritable delight. Most honoured, most excited.  We have your rooms ready.  The best.  The very best. The very very best.  The very very…’

‘My hand?’ requested the Doctor, and with what Rose assumed was a blush, albeit a green one, the man relinquished the hand he had still been shaking.

‘Excuse me, it is just… we are so pleased.  So delighted, so very delighted to have you with us.  The Doctor and Mrs Smith.  Such an honour!  Such a…’ he caught sight of the Doctor’s arching eyebrow, ‘Ah. You have luggage?’  He gestured to the two, slightly larger and slimmer, fellows he had brought with him, flapping his arms forwards as if herding chickens, only to falter with a look of extreme disappointment as, peering around Rose’s form, he found a landscape bereft of cases.  ‘No luggage?’

‘Oh, we have,’ Rose interjected, ‘it’s just, it’s in the TARDIS… um, the blue box. Our luggage is in the blue box.’

‘Ah, but of course it is! Foolish of me!’  He clapped his hands and the two men moved to lift the TARDIS.  Rose started to warn them that they would never manage it, only to snap her mouth closed as, with impossible ease, the TARDIS lifted from the ground and, beneath the touch of the porters, began to move up the beach.  Grinning with surprise, Rose slipped her hand into the Doctor’s, pulling it tight against her thigh and leaning against his arm.  The fat man before them noticed the gesture and beamed.

‘Ah, but I am keeping you!  You will wish to see your accommodation? It is the honeymoon suite, of course.  Come, come, follow, follow.’ 

With a flourish, he spun on his chubby heel and took off across the shimmering sand with more verve than his short legs suggested him capable of.  With a shrug, the Doctor, Rose in tow, set off after him.

Their welcoming committee led them up the beach and through a hereto unseen gap in the thick vegetation where beach and land merged.  The pretty pebbled path wound its way through trees and flowers, before opening out to a broad drive before a colonial style white-washed wooden house.  Large picture windows flanked the ornate wooden door, which stood open, revealing a light, airy hallway and sweeping staircase. 

‘Oh!’ Rose gasped.

The Doctor frowned at her and she blushed, ‘Sorry, it’s just… it’s so perfect! Shareen and I used to swap fantasies about our perfect weddings and honeymoons and this is just so close.’  She danced from his side, sliding before him and winding her arms around his middle, drawing him close.  Resting her chin against his chest, she gazed up at him, laughter hugging her lips. ‘Have I told you how brilliant you are?’ she asked.  The Doctor settled his joined hands at the small of her back, enjoying the sensation of her cradled within his grasp – it was a luxury all too frequently the Universe threatened to deny him and these small moments were like manna to him. 

‘Shall we go inside?’ he asked, his gaze fixed on their host.

Rose frowned at his serious tone, but nodded, her chin jabbing into his bony torso, before stepping back and letting herself slip back into her accustomed place, by his side. 

The interior of the house was as spectacular as its exterior promised, polished hard wood floors, comfortable but elegant furnishings and every amenity they could wish for.  On the kitchen table was an enormous basket of fruit and champagne, or at least the local equivalent.  To Rose’s delight, there was a chef on call to rustle up their culinary heart’s desire.  It was all, in a word, perfect.   With a squeal, Rose set off up the fairytale staircase, her whoop upon finding a four-poster bed audible to the jovial host and the less animated Doctor where they stood in the hallway.   

‘I will leave you, Doctor.  You will find the TARDIS on the terrace.  Enjoy your stay.’  With a polite bow, the host withdrew, pulling the front door closed behind him. 

The Doctor stood, entirely still, in the now empty hall, his eyes resting on the heavy wooden door but his gaze unfocused.

‘Doctor! You’ve gotta see this! The bath is like a swimming pool!’

At Rose’s excited cry, the Doctor shook his head like a wet dog and, with one last glance at the doorway through which the host had disappeared, he spun on his heel and set off up the stairs to join his wife. 

‘Not so loud,’ he warned light-heartedly, ‘you’ll offend the TARDIS!’  As Rose giggled, he finally grinned, enjoying the bouncy bundle that launched herself at him as he entered the bedroom.

‘Perhaps you should teach me a lesson?’ she suggested, grabbing a handful of tie and tugging him towards the luxurious bed.  With a strategic flick of his chuck clad foot, he encouraged the bedroom door to close before advancing on his beaming wife. Pinning her against the soft mattress edge, one hand either side of her hips, he set about reminding Rose what their inopportune arrival had forced him to postpone.

*********

The Doctor remained by Rose’s side throughout the night; she knew because on several occasions she’d drifted to semi-awareness, drawn out of deep slumber by the buzz of the screwdriver or his mumbled conversations with himself.  On each occasion he’d jumped, looked guilty and, with a brush of tender lips, the skim of hand against arm and muttered endearments, ushered her back into the arms of Morpheus. 

As consciousness beckoned once more, with the firmness that suggested it was time she got up, she allowed herself the luxury of ruminating on his behaviour.  She was a little surprised by his continued clinginess – they were at their honeymoon retreat, alien threats kept firmly away by the do not disturb sign they had hung out for the Universe to see.  She’d expected him to relax enough to return to his nocturnal tinkering in the TARDIS, but instead he remained within her orbit. Perhaps, she mused, as sunlight whispered to eyelids that it was time for them to open, it was no longer fear but a sense of human tradition that kept him from leaving. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like it – she did; it was lovely waking up with him, especially when she caught him in an unguarded moment, his face soft with sentiment, or lost in thought, beautiful in its alien distance and melancholy.  He was trying to share more with her, she knew, but hundreds of years of habit was not easy to break and his instinct was still to conceal, dissemble and hold within him his hopes and fears and most precious thoughts.  In the quiet moments, such as those  in the late evening or early morning, when there was a pause in their frenetic lives, his guard slipped and little glimpses of the him he kept hidden seeped out.  She treasured such glimpses, capturing them in eager hands and drawing them close, pulling them into the protection of her heart to keep them safe from the world he was afraid to share them with.  As she opened her eyes on this morning, however, there was no such secret insight awaiting her – instead, deep brown eyes met hers from where the Doctor’s head rested on the pillow, almost nose to nose with her, contemplating her as if she were some mysterious text he was trying to translate.

‘Hello,’ he whispered.

‘Morning,’ she replied, her hand drifting into the space between them, finding his with the certainty of an instinct.  ‘What did you do all night?’

‘What? Oh, lots of important Time Lordly stuff.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yep.  Watching Rose Smith, nee Tyler.  Calculating how long before Rose Smith, nee Tyler, would wake up.  Cataloguing the duration and intensity of Rose Smith’s, nee Tyler’s, REM sleep.  Oh, and programming twelve new settings into the Sonic Screwdriver.’

‘Sounds very Time Lordly,’ Rose agreed with a grin, the tip of her tongue teasing him from between her teeth.

‘It was.  Very.’

‘Life or death stuff,’ Rose agreed, nodding sagely.  The Doctor’s grin froze, his eyes slipping from hers as he began to draw away.  Realising what she’d said, Rose abandoned his hand and snaked her arm to his hip, holding him still.  ‘Don’t,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Do that.  Pull away.’

‘I’m not,’ he replied, ‘time to get up, that’s all.  New day, wonderful beaches to explore, gift shops to visit.   Come on, lazybones, Allons-y!’  Before she could stop him, in a flurry of arms and legs he was upright, moving across the room and out the door.  Rose slumped back against the pillows, frustrated, cursing her silly tongue.  They needed to talk about it, though, sometime – she’d not missed his singular failure to pronounce either his love or his commitment until death parted them at their wedding.  He was afraid of the finality of both words, as if, by not saying them, fate would steer clear.   She understood, she really did, but they couldn’t keep dancing around the words or the feelings behind them.  Maybe, before the honeymoon was over, she’d manage to get him to talk to her about it.  Maybe.  Not now, though, obviously.  With a sigh, she rolled to the side of the bed and slipped her feet free of the silky sheets; time to get up.


Chapter Three


From: [identity profile] amyo67.livejournal.com


Aw.. Poor Doctor. He's so afraid. I hope Rose can help him. I really am enjoying this story. Of course, I have enjoyed all of them. HeeHee

From: [identity profile] rosewarren.livejournal.com


deep brown eyes met hers from where the Doctor’s head rested on the pillow, almost nose to nose with her, contemplating her as if she were some mysterious text he was trying to translate.

This is a nice image - I can see it so clearly.

Now I will sit back and wait for Rose to shake some sense into him.

From: [identity profile] lostwolfchats.livejournal.com


She needs to hit him with a stick or something, I think :-D

From: [identity profile] ramblinsuze.livejournal.com


Hmmm. Given the Doctor's actions, it seems like there is something wrong with the resort. He's acting weird, though, so I can't put my finger on it.

From: [identity profile] bananasandroses.livejournal.com


Completely understandable that he doesn’t want to talk about it; I mean – would you, in his place?

I can understand why she needs to make him talk, though. It’s a tricky one.


From: [identity profile] lostwolfchats.livejournal.com


He can't avoid it for ever, not if they are to be truly happy.

From: [identity profile] shengirl.livejournal.com


Heheh, they're really into that "Dr. and Mrs. Smith" thing at the moment, huh? They're adorable, seriously. Like, I know that something's up with the Doctor and that things are going to go horribly, perversely wrong, but for now I'm just enjoying Rose squeeing over her perfect honeymoon and cuddling the Doctor.

From: [identity profile] rommies-voice.livejournal.com


Curious. I cant work out yet if the only demons here are the ones in the Doctors head or not. He certainly didn't seam as thrilled with the resort as Rose and that in its self is a surprise as he seams to feed off her emotions. Strange.

Cant wait to see where this will go and if the Doctor can defeat his own demons.

From: [identity profile] syramak.livejournal.com


Perfect, too perfect. Or is that just me being paranoid. Any way, great chapter! Love Roses musings on why he stays with her all night. I fear however that she is right, that he is constantly afraid he will lose her. In doing so though he is missing out on the precious time he has with her. Hopefully they get to have that talk. Can't wait for more!

From: [identity profile] nattieb.livejournal.com


Why do I think it would have been better for the welcoming committee to be carrying pitchforks???

From: [identity profile] othermewriter.livejournal.com


Poor Ten & Rose. Rose has her work cut out for her in spite of his wanting to open up it's going to be hard for him. He is still very broken even if it's not as open wound painfully obvious as it was when he was nine.

I love the way you write these two together Rose's bouncing exuberance and his tentativeness in the face of her bouncing. Very curious as to why the inn keep was so flattering and falling all over himself. Excellent chapter as usual.

From: [identity profile] scubagurl22.livejournal.com


wait... i thought it was a mistake where they were...
how did the welcoming pary know there names, that it was their honeymoon, and most importantly what the TARDIS was called? And why doesn't the Doctor like the inn keeper? By the way, 12 new settings on the sonic screwdriver? How many settings is that thing up to by now?

I'm full of questions and it is only the second chapter, perfect way to begin reading a story. :D

Can't wait for the next bit!

From: [identity profile] amberfocus.livejournal.com


I think the Doctor is just as suspicious as I am that something is going on in the undercurrent. I feel a bit sorry for Rose, not getting to hear the things she wants to hear from him.
.

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