I don’t know what this is, exactly. Except somethingofthewolf made a post last night about a Doctor/Rose “The Bodyguard” AU something-or-another. And this happened.

After the embarrassingly ineffective security she’d seen at the front gate of the estate, Rose Tyler wasn’t sure what she expected to find, in terms of this new client. Of course she’d seen him in the movies: John Smith, the actor everyone called “the Doctor” because he was so good he could rescue any production and rake in money at the box office. At the ripe old age of thirty-four, he’d brought the Academy to its knees six times.

With a professional of that ilk, Rose sure as hell didn’t expect this.

He was on a purple floatie in the middle of the pool. He was skinnier than she’d imagined, his hair a spiky brown mess atop his head, both his hands full of beer. The pool had a marble Greek goddess on each of the four corners and there was a bevy of real girls, too, decoratively sprinkled across the lawn chairs with their Cosmos and their practically nonexistent bikinis. Not a single security person in sight, back here.

Rose came down the staircase to the pool deck, grimacing as she took in the too-short fence (so easily scalable), the overgrown bushes (perfect for anyone looking to hide), and the ridiculously expansive entourage (she’d lay money on the fact that this Doctor didn’t even know everyone’s name).

“Hey, Doctor!” It was the Doctor’s brother, Mickey, shouting from behind her. Mickey, who’d called her ‘baby,’ waggled his eyebrows, and offered her vodka shots the minute she walked in the house. “The new bodyguard’s here!”

The Doctor sat up on his purple floatie and yanked off his sunglasses. He took his time looking her up and down, his gaze lingering in a way that might have embarrassed or flattered other women. It only irritated Rose.

With a grin and loud bark of a laugh, he yelled back at Mickey: “Oi, nice one, mate!” He turned his eyes to Rose again and waved a beer bottle in her general direction. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Do your thing.”

Rose’s forehead wrinkled. “What?”

“I usually like it slow, but we’ve got lunch coming out in a minute, so hop to. Do your dance, take off whatever clothes you’re gonna take off – I assume all of them, since Mick arranged your little show – and then we’ll have sandwiches.”

Rose crossed her arms over her chest and slid her sunglasses down her nose, glaring at him. “I’m not a stripper, Mr. Smith. I’m from the security firm the studio hired.”

“I told you, man, she’s the new bodyguard,” Mickey said behind her, doubling over in laughter.

The Doctor blinked and shrugged. “Well, sweetheart, you don’t look like a bodyguard.”

“Security specialist. And my name isn’t sweetheart, it’s Ms. Tyler,” Rose said, shaking her head and frowning. The movie studio had contracted with her security firm to keep an eye on this asshole until his current movie was done filming, at least two more months; it was beginning to dawn on her exactly how long those two months were going to be. “What exactly were you expecting?”

With a shrug and a cheeky grin, he replied, “I dunno. Maybe someone a little more butch.”

“This is my disguise,” Rose said dryly, shoving the sunglasses back over her eyes. It was time to start cleaning house. She put her hands on her hips and raised her voice. “Now listen up! Everybody out!”