Rose knew she was being rude. She knew she was ignoring the person talking to her because she couldn't stop glancing down the street, wondering when the Doctor would arrive.
But being trapped in darkness and unable to do anything but think had broken down her last defences. No more pretending they were just friends. Her one thought under the Wire's control had been to get back to the Doctor. They could have a fantastic life together if they'd just take that last step.
Rose sighed and looked back at the woman she was talking to. "I'm sorry, I missed what you said." Now that she was back in her body, she was eager to see him again—to touch him, to prove to herself that she really could feel. It was so overwhelming, she could hardly concentrate on the conversation going on around her.
"The young man you're so anxious to see again. What's his name?"
Rose's face warmed. "I'm not… I mean…" Just because she planned to talk to the Doctor tonight didn't mean she wanted to be an open book to a perfect stranger.
A knowing smile crossed the woman's face. "Well, someone seems excited to see you, at any rate."
The familiar awareness tingled down Rose's spine, and she turned her head so quickly it almost made her neck hurt.
But when the Doctor's smile stretched into a wide, toothy grin, she forgot all about the inconsequential pain. And when his strides lengthened until he was almost running down the street, joy bubbled up in a breathless laugh.
And then he was picking her up, and she was flinging her arms around his neck to hold tight as he swung her in circles. She buried her nose in the collar of his coat, taking a deep breath of the fragrance of spiced honey that always clung to him. He was here, and she could touch him and smell him.
"Rose, my Rose," he whispered as he stopped spinning. He didn't let her go, though, instead tightening his hold on her until she could feel his hearts pounding unnaturally fast against her chest.
"I'm here, Doctor," she replied, turning her head so her lips brushed against his ear. "You did it. You saved me. My Doctor."
His gusty sigh shifted her hair and tickled at her ear. Then she slowly slid down his body as he set her back down on the ground.
One look in his dark brown eyes was enough to tell Rose that he'd come to his own decision today. There would be no more pretending for either of them.
The Doctor actually didn't plan to kiss Rose in the middle of a street, with an audience. Their first kiss would be special, something intimate shared by no one else.
But instead of stepping back after he'd set her back on her own feet, she locked her hands behind his neck and looked up at him through her eyelashes, her lower lip caught between her teeth. The Doctor's hands flexed where they rested on her hips, and she shuffled a half-step closer to him, until he could feel her skirt brushing against his legs.
He leaned down, still moving slowly enough that Rose could pull back if this wasn't what she wanted. When she tilted her head back and her eyes fluttered closed, he gave in and crossed the remaining distance between them to brush the softest kiss against her lips.
The tiny puff of air when Rose sighed into his kiss wrecked the Doctor. All thoughts that this would be a short peck flew out the window. He needed her, and he'd come so close to losing her… He loved her, and even though he couldn't tell her that with words, he could still use his mouth to make his feelings clear.
He pressed his lips more firmly to hers, and in response, one of her hands combed through his hair, curling through the strands to hold him in place. The pleasure that soft caress provided shocked the Doctor, and drove his desire to make her feel just as good.
Rose opened her mouth beneath his when he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip. He could feel the stutter in her breathing and knew she expected him to immediately deepen the kiss, but instead, he worried at her lip, alternating between gentle nips and soft sucks.
The Doctor could hear the quiet sounds she was stifling in the back of her throat, and his suppressed awareness of their surroundings returned. Much as he wanted to go on kissing Rose for the rest of the night, they'd already pushed the boundaries of what was considered appropriate for a public embrace by 1953 standards.
He slowly pulled out of the kiss, tugging her lip with him until he let it go with a pop. Her whimper of discontent and the way she tried to follow him were almost enough to make him forget when and where they were, but after one more quick peck, he took a step back.
Rose sighed again, and he couldn't resist brushing his knuckles over her cheekbone as her eyes opened. She leaned into the caress, pressing her lips to the inside of his wrist.
"Hi," she whispered.
The Doctor giggled. "Hello." They were together again, they were finally together, and nothing was going to split them up—not even a sentient electrical signal.
The sound of someone clearing their throat finally broke through the bubble the Doctor and Rose were in. He looked to their right and saw a woman about Jackie's age smirking at both of them.
"You must be Rose's young man."
The Doctor still had his hands on Rose's waist, and he felt her stiffen just slightly at the statement. He knew her well enough to know what she was thinking: Would that assumption scare him off? Was this change permanent or had he simply gotten caught up in the relief of their reunion?
Looking back at Rose, he nodded decisively. A spark of happiness filled her eyes with golden light, and he knew he would never regret this decision.
"Yes. Yes, I am."