Warning: Peter Vincent = swearing. Hopefully I didn't have to remind you of that.

A/N: Peter Vincent continues to lack being nice. It was more fun like that.
A/N2: Rose might need a hug at the end of this.

Previous:

He felt all the blood drain to his feet as panic gripped him. "They wouldn't!"

Part 2

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She sneered at him. "It was all passed at last night's board meeting. That's why Dad was so late home."

"You evil little bitch! I've done nothing wrong and all you can think of doing is punishing me. Well you can fucking stop that right now," he blazed at her, standing to point an irate digit in her direction.

"Should I? You're the one that landed me back here when I should have been by the Doctor's side and not… her! You're the reason I've been dumped without a word, an apology or a thank you for saving his and your arse." Rose couldn't stop the angry tears that had welled up as she let rip at him. "Why weren't you dumped with her and I was left with the Doctor? That's how it should have been."

He deliberately rolled his eyes as he sighed. "Oh shut the fuck up! Do you ever stop whinging? Her name is Donna, seeing as you seem to have forgotten her name, and yes, I should be with her and not you. But sorry, sweetheart; you won the prize."

"Then I want to give it back," she retorted petulantly.

"Sounds about right to me. I take it you won't give a rat's arse if I get up and leave today? Good! I have important plans that don't include you, so if you'll move out of my bloody way I'll leave you in peace."

He moved passed Rose and she tried to grab hold of the sleeve of his shirt. "You can't leave me! You're all I have left of him."

Vincent took hold of her fingers and slowly peeled them off his arm, glaring all the time. "Too little too late. Now get out of my fucking way."

Rose stepped back in shock. She hadn't ever expected him to react like this; especially where she was concerned. He was supposed to wait for her to finish yearning for the Doctor; remaining steadily as her backup man. What was happening? He loved her just as much as the Doctor so he should be begging her to help him, not waltz off without her! "Where are you going?" she almost screamed at his back as he ran nimbly up the stairs.

He momentarily halted to look down on her. "As far away from you and your backstabbing father as I can get," he called down.

Vincent!" she yelled up, stopping him in his tracks again. "All that talk about other women. You didn't really have them all, did you?"

He laughed contemptuously. "Did you honestly think I would keep myself pure for you? My, you have a fucking nerve expecting that!"

"But… but… but…," she stammered.

"Fuck off! You sound like a fucking outboard motor," he spat back and carried on running to his room.

He ignored her continued shouts proclaiming, "You love me! I know you do! Get down here!"

"Too fucking right I will," he mumbled to himself. "I'm way past all that now. You can find another bloke to ruin, princess."

The next time he saw Rose she was not looking so good.

Vincent threw himself down into the seat opposite her in a McDonald's on the outskirts of Brighton. "Okay, you got me here. What do you want?" he asked her ungraciously.

Rose blew her nose on a tissue she had extracted from her jacket pocket. He'd physically changed in the months since he'd left the mansion, having allowed his hair to grow and his sideburns to disappear. The clothing was different too, all dark and casual. "Is that it? No 'hello Rose' or anything?" she asked as she held back her tears.

He merely regarded her blankly. Nope, he couldn't make himself care very much. "Roxanne said you needed to talk to me desperately. Something about new rules, she said; all very hush hush. So stop fucking about and tell me, and then I can sod off."

"What has happened to you?" she wailed. "I've come here to ask for your help because suddenly I'm a wanted woman for letting you out of my sight that day."

He blew out a breath, sweeping his gaze over the restaurant and out into the street. Fucking typical! A faint smile appeared when he recognised someone outside. "Me? I've been living a life, Rose. One that apparently doesn't revolve around you. Are you asking me to hide you?"

Rose dropped her gaze and concentrated on her fingers. "Yes," she murmured.

He drew out a pen from his pocket, dragged a paper napkin across the table top, and wrote hastily. "This is an address I want you to go to. It's not too far from here. You are to go straight there and wait for me in the entrance hall, and no following me. Is that understood?"

She nodded reluctantly, not knowing what to think of him anymore. Once she would have thought of him as her saviour; a very long time ago.

"Good!" he proclaimed matter of factly. He stood up then and placed a £5 note on the table. "Get yourself something to eat. We'll sort everything else out when I see you. Bye."

"Bye," she mouthed back. All she had wanted was one word said in kindness; but at least he had not completely abandoned her.

Without a backward glance, he strode out of McDonald's and greeted a tall dark-haired man outside. Rose almost squawked with indignation when Vincent tenderly kissed him. She had not expected that! Nor did she expect him to wrap an arm around the man and saunter confidently off. Obviously having something of Donna in him was having an effect, she reasoned, trying not to shudder at the thought.

"Who's the bird?" Vincent's companion asked as soon as they were out of sight. "She looked like she was impersonating a panda crossed with a goldfish."

"I once had a relationship with her. We lived under the same roof for a while. You know the sort of thing; purely platonic and promised lots more," he explained.

"So she's the reason you are such a cantankerous bugger? Good job I'm here to pick up the pieces," his friend replied; and stopped walking in order to lean in intimately.

"Very good job," Vincent answered, willingly allowing the kiss to take place. "Play your cards right and I'll show you how grateful I am."

Rose was sitting waiting for him in the lobby of the hotel he had directed her to when he breezily appeared from within the confines of the corridors. "Ah, I see you got here okay. Come on; I've got you a room." He then clicked his fingers at her to follow.

She bristled angrily at the action but she followed nevertheless. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about the scene she had been witness to earlier, but she held it in until they reached a room on the first floor and he swiped the key card to get in. There was no way it could be described as grand, and it was far below the standard she had become accustomed to as the Vitex heiress; but there had been a time when she lived on the Powell Estate that this would have been classed as fancy.

As the door slammed itself shut she asked her question. "How long have you known you are gay?"

He had reached the window and was peering out at this point; he turned slowly to smirk at her. "That's merely a label, and I thought you were more mature than that. You disappoint me yet again, Rose Tyler. The universe is full of all sorts of things."

"What are you saying then? Are you bisexual... what?" she asked in confusion.

He chuckled. "You'd never know you had met Captain Jack Harkness. Or did you keep your eyes shut the whole time?" A swift dip followed as he opened the minibar and sought inquisitively through it, finally choosing a small bottle of whiskey to quench his thirst. Taking small sips from the bottle, he peered at her with open curiosity. "What? Run out of questions already?"

She wanted to smack him across the face! The smug arrogant prig. "Oh, I have plenty of questions. I'm just not sure whether you'll bother to answer them."

"If you don't ask you won't get," he stated as he took another sip. "I'm fine, thanks; by the way."

"So are Mum and Tony," she retorted.

"Clever girl! You almost impressed me then. I think you should be aware that these people know me as Peter Vincent Noble, just in case you are ever asked," he added conversationally. "But don't go wearing it out."

That hurt! Obviously he had chosen the name 'Noble' to upset her. Why couldn't he have used Smith or Tyler? What was so wrong with holding on to a tiny piece of them? A small strangled cry escaped passed her lips despite her best efforts. When he quirked an eyebrow at her she wanted to smack him clean across the face.

"Not feeling a little jealous by any chance, are you Rose?" he wondered knowingly. "I have other loyalties now. Talking of which…" He glanced at his watch. "…I have to be somewhere. I'll be back later." As he turned to leave he peered into the mirror above the wall unit and flicked a stray hair into place.

"Is that what you do down here? Are you a rent boy?" she asked with as much venom as she could muster.

He really could have been a Bond villain in another life. "There you go with the stereotypes again, Rose. I network and I acquire new skills. I don't think I want to tell you any more than that. Oh, and Rose…," he added as he opened the door and peered round it at her. "I'm fucking good."

There was no other word for it as his smug face disappeared from her sight: she hated him. Why did he feel the need to rub his promiscuity into her face? Doctor Vincent was the lowest of the low in her opinion. It was then that she realised that he had left with the room key, and she wanted to rant her frustration with him. If evil thoughts could kill he would have been stone dead in that moment.

Rose had been dozing on the bed when there was the sound of movement outside the room and the door was thrust open. She instantly sat up and waited to see what sort of entrance he would make. He was determined not be quiet about it.

"Hello Rosie!" he called out and swayed slightly on the spot. "Did you miss me?"

"Fortunately no," she replied, and waved a hand in front of her face when he staggered closer. "You reek of alcohol! How much have you drunk? You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Am I?" he seemed to ask himself. "Nope, not a jot. Alcohol can make life so much more interesting, don't you find? Take this evening for instance… I'd have never worn that feather thing if Sammy hadn't been plying me with brandy all night."

"I don't want to know about your sexual exploits, thank you very much. It's bad enough I have to keep looking at you," she complained.

He opened his mouth wide and pressed his tongue up behind his top teeth, adding in a small wink. "Such a shame that. Other people have been far luckier. I've been told I'm a very tasty geezer." He then danced a pirouette across the carpet in front of the TV. "Aren't you going to thank me? I've arranged for you to be taken to be taken down to the south of France, to the lovely little village of La Fortuna."

"Why?"

"Because the family need an au pair and you need a job," he answered. He then swung closer to her. "Now say 'thank you, Peter'."

She scowled. "Why should I do that, Peter?"

He struck out and grabbed her around the throat.