HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVELY LOTSOFTHINKYTHOUGHTS!

I don't own Doctor Who, unfortunately.

Only his third day in Pete's World and the Doctor had already screwed up and made Rose upset. Ok, so he had misidentified the Hinniky as the Thoults. It wasn't his fault in this universe the two had evolved along a similar path, and it was most definitely not his fault that the leader of the Hinniky delegation had been insulted to the point that he spat thick purple slime into Rose's hair.

Personally he thought that she looked brilliant with her tresses that shade of lilac. Maybe he could convince her to keep it for the few weeks it would take for it to fade instead of her dyeing it back right away. Seriously, it wasn't that big of a deal. The incident had been smoothed over rather quickly, and no real harm was done. So there was no real reason for him to be punished with the mountain of forms Pete had given him to fill out. Yes, he supposed that he needed a new identity since he was grounded to Earth until the baby TARDIS was ready. But this was truly unfair.

Is this what his life was going to come to now? He gets to have Rose Tyler but in exchange will be inundated with paperwork every time there was a slight incident? Sighing, he supposed that as horrific as the stack of papers was before him it was infinitely better than a life spent alone.

He picked up a pen, flexed his handy not-so-spare hand and pulled the first piece of paper off the gargantuan stack. Attached to the top sheet was a note.

Doctor,

I know this is a pain in the arse, but I really do need you to fill out all of these forms with the information you want on your official records. So no calling yourself Raxa Coricovarlonpatorius or something weird, and make sure to fill out all the forms.

Love,

Rose

He scoffed at the notion of calling himself Raxa on his official documents. No, this was his secret identity that he was crafting, like Steve Rogers or Peter Parker. No, no, no, he was Superman, and he was creating his Clark Kent persona. That was a much more appropriate analogy. Then he made a face. He didn't like the name Clark Kent. What else? Oh, he knew! Bruce Wayne. After all, Batman had all those cool gadgets, and he had his sonic screwdriver after all. Maybe he didn't have as many gadgets as Batman, but the sonic was more powerful and waaaaaay cooler. Tony would of course be his trusty sidekick Robin. Oh and Rose could be Batgirl or better yet Catwoman, without being a villian of course.

With his impressive chest puffed out a little he turned his attention to the page.

Name- Bruce Wayne

Birthdate- 5th of July

Age-

He paused here for a moment. There was no way he could write 904, let alone his real age. How old was Rose again? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Would a ten year age gap be too much to be believable? He was quite foxy, but he wasn't sure he could pass for mid-twenties.

Finally he just scribbled in thirty-five as his new fake age and moved on. There was so much information to make up: family history, education, work and medical histories. It was all blah, blah, blah. Luckily with his magnificent Time Lord brain he would have no problem remembering all of the minute details of his falsified background. He supposed it must have been easier on Rose and Jackie since they had an actual background to draw on rather than him just starting from scratch.

When he finally reached the last page he wasn't sure what other information they could possible want him to fabricate. A quick glance at the form had him smiling.

So you want to date Rose Tyler

Please fill out the following questionnaire and submit it for processing.

Well, this was bound to be much more fun to fill out then all of those boring other forms. For a brief moment he was worried that Rose may have been giving these out to lots of blokes, but any concerns he had were assuaged by the first question.

1) Are you The Doctor? If the answer is no, you can stop right there and consider your application denied.

Chuckling, he filled in the answer blank. Yes, of course I'm the Doctor. Same thoughts, same memories, same everything.

2) Do you like to cuddle?

Love a good cuddle, especially with my favourite pink and yellow (well, currently lilac) human.

3) Will you let me touch your bum? Maybe give it a good squeeze or two?

Only if I can fondle your lovely arse as well.

4) Can I call you really stupid nicknames?

Only in bed. :-)

5) Speaking of bed, do you prefer to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

There are lots of positions that I can see myself enjoying with you. In fact, I brought a copy of the Kama Sutra from the 52nd century if you would like to peruse it for ideas.

6) How often is too often for snogging?

There can NEVER be too much snogging between you and me. In fact, I insist on multiple sessions per day.

7) Will you agree to holidays, birthdays and occasional dinners with my family?

Really? Do I have to? I mean sure I suppose I visited your family more than I did anyone else's, well, ever. I do quite like your little brother, and Pete's been tolerable. Did you know he basically had me kidnapped once at Canary Wharf? And don't even get me started on your mother… Ugh, fine, I'll agree, but we need to agree on a safe word like pop tarts. I say pop tarts and it's time to go.

8) Will you agree to drop everything and run away with me when the domestics get to be too much?

YES, A HUGE EMPHATIC YES! Have I told you lately that I love you?

9) In one word, state what you like best about me?

Everything

10) Last but most certainly not least; can I run my fingers through your hair anytime I want? Even if I mess up your hair?

The things I agree to for you. ;-) Of course you can but only you and only if you agree to fix it before we are seen in public.

When he finished the last question he turned the sheet over and scribbled one of his own. Placing the application on top of the other pages, he scooped them up and headed to Rose's office. The door was open so he walked right in and sat down opposite her. "I finished my paperwork," he informed her, placing the papers down.

"Did ya now? All of them?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Every single last one," he sing-songed. "The last sheet was my favourite."

She pushed a long strand of purple hair behind her ear and grinned. "Was it now?" Her hand reached out and took the application and read it. Soft giggles escaped her as her eyes skimmed the page.

"It even inspired me to come up with my own little questionnaire," he explained. Standing, he took the page from her and turned it over before handing it back to her. "Only one question, mind. But I'm only interested in the one person in the multiverse who can answer in the affirmative."

Rose giggled at the title of the document, So You Want to Shag the Doctor, and read the question aloud. "Are you Rose Marion Tyler, Defender of the Multiverse? Hmmm." She set the page down and walked around the desk. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she tilted her head up to look at him. He leaned down until his lips were millimetres from hers. "I am Rose, your Rose, and yes, I very much would like to shag you."

He didn't say anything, just kissed her and proceeded to explore three, six and ten on her list and the central proposition of his. Later that night, after they had turned in a pile of rumpled, out of order forms to Pete, they explored her four (he liked it when she called him Batman) and five and his again. Well, his several more times to be perfectly honest. Tomorrow, they would pack Rose's car and take a stab at number eight.