From the prompt: "You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend's house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we're good"


John was exhausted. He'd spent the last twenty-four hours at the hospital catching cat naps when he could as everyone worked overtime to handle the steady influx of patients from a train accident that had happened right before the end of his normal shift. All he wanted was to collapse onto his own bed and sleep for as long as humanly possible. He had the next two days off so he was thinking that would be a good long time.

He slid his key into the lock, already fantasizing about his pillows, and frowned when he realized that the door was already unlocked. That wasn't right. He always locked his flat when he left, was positive that he had locked it before leaving yesterday morning but he supposed he technically could have forgotten.

Not likely though.

Cautiously, he pushed his door open and entered his flat, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He didn't have to look far. There was a blonde woman that he'd never laid eyes upon before in his life fast asleep on his couch. Jasper, his cat, was curled up on her stomach, apparently completely content with sleeping on this stranger. The only acknowledgement from either of them that John entered the flat was Jasper raising his head to blink slowly at his human before settling back down and closing his eyes once more. John rubbed his hand down his face as he stared at the two. Deciding he needed tea before he dealt with any of this, he detoured to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

It was only once he had a mug full of warm, caffeinated sanity in his hands that he walked back into the sitting room and took a seat in the arm chair. He watched the stranger for a moment as he took a sip of his tea, assessing the situation and trying to decide on the best course of action.

John was halfway through his cuppa when the blonde started to stir. She threw an arm over her face without opening her eyes.

"Oh god, my head is killin' me," she rasped out, voice hoarse. She sniffed the air. "Martha, please tell me you made me a cuppa too. I would kill for a cuppa if I could actually move right now." She paused for a moment, what was visible of her face screwing up in thought. "And when did you get a cat?"

"Jasper's been here a lot longer than you. And if I knew how you took your tea I might have made you one. In fact, if I knew who you were and what you were doing in my flat that would be excellent," John replied, tone deceptively even.

The woman whipped her head towards his voice, dislodging her arm in the process. She took him in briefly, her warm whiskey colored eyes meeting his blue ones as he stared her down.

She groaned, shutting her eyes again. "Shouldn't have moved that quickly. Wasn't kidding about my head killing me."

Jasper apparently agreed that she should stay still. He fussed at her for moving before resettling in a slightly different position without letting her up.

She opened her eyes again, squinting slightly at John. "I don't suppose you're just a dream and I'm still drunk?" she asked hopefully.

"I considered that you might be a hallucination born of sleep deprivation but I seriously doubt we're both imagining this."

"Damn. At least you look like a dream." She blushed bright red and squeezed her eyes shut when she realized she'd said that last bit out loud. "Oh god, I apparently might still be slightly drunk and cannot control my mouth and am somehow makin' this more awkward than it already was."

"Considering I still don't know who you are or how you got into my locked flat, I'm not sure it can get any more awkward."

"Right. Umm, I'm Rose. Rose Tyler."

"Nice to meet you, Rose. My name's John Smith."

"Doctor?" she asked, looking him over again.

He started but then looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing scrubs and his white coat. "Yes. Now, how did you get into my flat and why are you here?"

Rose looked away from him, focusing on petting Jasper for a moment. "This is the Gallifrey Building, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Third floor?"

"Fourth."

"Blimey, must have climbed an extra set of stairs. That doesn't normally happen," she muttered to herself. Looking up at him she shot John an apologetic smile and continued sheepishly. "Sorry, I seem to have broken into the wrong flat."

He stared at her for a moment. "Pardon?"

"Broke into the wrong flat," Rose repeated. "My friend Martha lives on the floor beneath you, flat 3C, which I'm guessing is the one right below yours. Got the floors mixed up when I was drunk, apparently." She smiled at him again, seeming completely unconcerned with the fact that she was admitting to breaking into flats as if it was nothing.

"And why were you breaking into someone's flat in the first place?"

"Well, I was out drinking with my friend Jack to celebrate him being back in town after bein' gone for a few months and somewhere along the line I made the really stupid decision to try and match him drink for drink." She made eye contact and very seriously told him to never try to outdrink Jack before continuing. "So long story short, I got a lot drunker than I'd planned on and since I was a lot closer to Martha's place than my own I texted her to see if I could spend the night on her couch. She's a doctor too and said she wouldn't be home tonight anyways and I was welcome to it. Was halfway here when I realized that my key to her flat was across town in my own flat so…I, um, picked the lock. On the wrong flat, obviously."

"Why do you know how to pick locks?" John asked curiously.

"You pick up some questionable skills when you're friends with Jack," Rose admitted with a laugh. "He taught me how to pick locks years ago. It's saved me from ever having to call my landlord when I lock myself out of my flat."

John ran over her story in his head, trying to see if there were any glaring inconsistencies. His musings were interrupted by a yawn. As soon as it was over he turned a level look on Rose.

"You know, I should probably call the police but I'm too tired to wait for them to show up or to deal with them coherently once they got here." John's lips quirked up in a smile. "Plus Jasper seems rather fond of you so you can't be all bad. He's an excellent judge of character."

Rose giggled. "I think you've passed that coherency point now, mate. No calling the police, now."

"Just said I wouldn't, didn't I? You have the stamp of approval from a very discerning cat," he teased back, a bit surprised at himself. Never could predict what a lack of sleep would lead him to do.

And it definitely led him to do things he probably never would have if he was running on anything more than fumes and dreams of his bed. Words started tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You can sleep off the rest of your hangover here if you wish. I'm about to go catch some sleep myself. Been at the hospital for the past twenty-four hours."

"Thanks, John. I don't think I'm really up to moving and I'm not sure your cat will let me anyways."

He waved her thanks off with a flip of his hand as he stood up. "We'll discuss your breaking and entering when I'm more awake," he said with another yawn.

"Didn't break anything," Rose pointed out testily.

"I'm not going to call the police when I wake up either. I just find myself curious as to why your friend would teach you to pick locks and what other skills you have."

Rose shot him a flirty smile, sticking her tongue between her teeth as she gave him a lingering look up and down from her position on the couch. "Wouldn't you like to know."

John could feel himself turning pink. "Um, do you want some paracetamol?" he asked, desperately trying to reroute the conversation.

"That would be lovely, ta."

He quickly exited the room and took longer than he needed to get the two pills, trying to will his face back to its normal color. When he returned to the sitting room Rose was contendedly petting Jasper who was expressing his gratitude by purring as loud as he possibly could.

He handed over the medicine wordlessly.

"Thanks, Doctor Smith," she said with a small smile. "For this and for not throwing me out or calling the police."

"You're welcome, Rose."

"Go to bed, John," she said gently. "You look dead on your feet."

He gave her a tired smile. "That's a serious downgrade from looking like a dream." She laughed quietly as he reached out to pet Jasper for a moment before turning to head for the bedroom, telling her to sleep well.

She echoed the sentiment and her smile was playing across the back of his eyelids when he fell asleep minutes later.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

John had no idea how long he'd been asleep when he was pulled back into consciousness by the smell of cooking food. It took him a minute to fight his way through the haze of sleep and remember that the stranger he'd found on his couch, Rose, was still in his flat. Still groggy, he pulled on a t-shirt and wandered out to the kitchen.

Rose almost dropped the spatula when she looked up to see him trying to ruffle his dark curls into some sort of order, dressed in a tight t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms that were riding low on his hips. She covered it up by beaming at him.

"Kettle's hot," she said.

She waited until he was a few sips into his cuppa to talk again. "Figured making breakfast was the least I could do for breaking into your flat and becoming your cat's new favorite person."

John blinked at her and then looked down to see Jasper twining around her legs. "Traitor," he rasped out, voice rough and deep from sleep. "Abandoning me for the first pretty girl that shows up and lets you sleep on her."

Rose threw him a wink over her shoulder as she continued to cook the eggs. "What can I say? I'm a first date kind of girl for handsome cats."

John just shook his head and watched as she moved around to his kitchen, completely at ease, his cat following her every move. She was done cooking within another couple minutes and produced two plates of eggs and toast.

They talked while they ate. Rose told him how Jack had taught her to pick locks when they'd gotten locked out of his office building one night and how one time when they were bored, Jack had set up a laser grid for them to try and get to.

John almost choked when she was the only one who could do it because she was very flexible.

He told her about some of the strange cases he'd seen while working in A&E and the time that he literally fell asleep in the middle of a one-on-one meeting with the head of pediatrics because he'd been awake for over forty-eight hours.

By the time they were done, John completely understood his cat's infatuation with Rose. He felt much the same way.

She left after cleaning up, hugging him and petting Jasper one last time before walking out. It was ridiculous but the flat felt much emptier and much darker without her in it.

It wasn't until an hour later that John found the note Rose had left on his fridge. It had her name and number on it as well as a promise to take him out to get chips sometime if he wanted. He laughed at the following admission that he'd already eaten the only meal she was capable of cooking without setting the kitchen on fire. And it was only fair, she continued, that he let her continue repaying him for the loan of his couch.

John tried not to feel disappointed that she was only asking him to dinner because she felt she owed him but he was. He put the note down on the table, hoping he'd remember to text her later because he really did want to see her again. He was about to walk away when he noticed there was writing on the back of the piece of paper.

It can also be a date, if you want. I'll make you work a little harder than Jasper though - xx

He read the scrawled words twice in quick succession, a smile forming on his face. He picked up his mobile and punched in Rose's number, intent on telling her right away that yes, he very much wanted it to be a date.