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“You’ve gone and done it now, Rose,” Jack said, clearly delighted by the fruits of her transgression.
He pinned Rose’s arms above her head to the soft grass of this beautiful, deserted planet. The Doctor straddled her legs, staring down at her sternly. Jack chuckled and readjusted his hold on her.
“Not funny, am I?” the Doctor deadpanned.
“S’not that you’re not funny…” Rose eyed the Doctor warily as he slowly stretched his hands down towards her midriff. Her tiny t-shirt had ridden up, exposing tender flesh. “Just… that joke wasn’t.”
“Is that so?” the Doctor replied, a resolute smirk crossing his face. “Well I’m sure you’ll come to appreciate the humor in the situation.”
Rose shot a pleading glance up at Jack, but by his enthusiastic expression it was clear he was going to be less than no help.
“Don’t look at me. You got yourself into this mess,” he confirmed.
The Doctor wriggled his fingers as they approached her bare sides. Rose did her own bit of wriggling, but the two men had her well secured.
“No… no… nooooo…” Rose said, eyes widening. Then she squeaked as the Doctor’s fingers dented lightly into her sides, squirming and biting her lip to suppress the reflexive laughter.
“Still not funny?” the Doctor challenged.
“No, ’s hilarious, Doctor. You’ve shown me the error of my ways.”
He squinted down at her. “But… still no laughter. I’ll get a titter out of you yet.”
The Doctor gave a wicked grin before he began to tickle Rose in earnest, relentless fingertips dug into the delicate skin of her sides and belly. Rose thrashed about, squealing between peals of laughter. Jack held tight, and the Doctor maintained his seat upon her thighs throughout the barrage.
“There it is!” he crowed, finally ceasing.
Rose panted below him, face flushed and eyes watering. “Guess…” she puffed, “guess that means… you can… stop now…”
“Guess it could,” the Doctor said, nodding pensively. “But… it doesn’t!”
Rose screeched and struggled at the Doctor’s renewed offensive, giggling with embarrassing violence upon the grass.
“Boy, Doc, she really seems to be enjoying herself now,” Jack encouraged with an incorrigible smile.
“She really does. Love a captive audience, me.”
The Doctor tickled away right above the waistband of Rose’s jeans. When he experimentally dragged a hand up to her armpit, she shrieked and gave a particularly mighty buck of her hips. The jolt dislodged the Doctor’s lower hand and it bumped against the middle seam of her jeans. Rose let out a gasp at the sudden shock of pleasure amidst the torture.
“Oh, you are enjoying this, aren’t you?” the Doctor said.
“Am not!”
A chuckle was her reply, followed by a few taps lower down on the seam, which Rose couldn’t help but rut against. The Doctor’s other hand was incessant as he found places on her torso she hadn’t even known could be ticklish.
Now the heel of his hand held the seam against her most sensitive place. Rose’s own wriggling and squirming causing it to chafe in the best of ways. Her laughter was peppered with little moans. She buzzed, pulsing and lightheaded.
“Oh, Doctor! Please ha ha ha!… no eee hee hee! No more!” Rose begged, cackling, right on the edge of reason, thrashing and grinding into the Doctor’s hand.
And then suddenly, it all stopped.
“Oh!” the Doctor said, flashing his daffiest grin. “Okay!”
He sprung to his feet. Without the Doctor’s weight and touch she felt like an unanchored hydrogen airship, floating away and ready to explode. Rose gaped as he walked away.
“C’mon, Jack!” said the Doctor. “Untold wonders to behold.”
Jack stood, snickering fondly down at Rose, then wandered after the Doctor. She lay in the beaten-down grass, staring after them.
The Doctor turned around with exaggerated expectation. “Guess you’ll just have to request a curtain call later! But now it’s time for the standing ovation,” he chirped. “You coming?”
Scowling, Rose picked herself up off the ground. “'pparently not,” she groused and trudged along behind them.