*Author's Note: Rose and the Doctor finally get some alone time in Torchwood Manner. All I can say is I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. R/R!*
The bald butler silently lead the Doctor and Rose through the long corridors of the Torchwood Estate. Queen Victoria had decided that everyone in her party would rest before touring the manor and objected when the Doctor insisted that he wasn't tired and would much rather explore the grounds.
"You two should be particularly tired as you walked here on your own two legs," she had said, eying them sternly. "In fact, at some point it appeared you had to lean on each other for support."
"We were just…" Rose started to explain before the Queen held up her hand to stop her mid sentence.
"That's quite enough. Please have your butler place them in separate wings, Sir Robert."
"Now wait a minute, she's my property," the Doctor started, his Scottish accent thickening his words in a way that made Rose flush. "I need to be able to keep an eye on her."
"That would be improper, sir, and I will not stand for it. Now, Sir Robert, please take me to my chambers. Your man can lead the Doctor and his… beastie."
And so they found themselves following the peculiar butler down the dark halls of the estate. It seemed strangely quiet, but Sir Robert did say that his wife had taken most of the servants with her when she left on holiday. Still, Rose thought, something just didn't seem right.
The man brought them to the Doctor's room first, merely opening the door, nodding at the Time Lord, and stepping aside. No sooner had the Doctor crossed the threshold did the butler continue on his way down the long hallway.
The Doctor gave Rose a reassuring look. "I'll meet you in the main foyer in 30 minutes," he said. "Best to play by the Queen's rules. They no longer do beheadings, but just to be safe."
She nodded glumly and turned to follow the servant, jogging a bit to catch up. A few minutes later, he deposited her in another room in the same stoic fashion before continuing on his way.
Standing in the doorway Rose inspected her room for the time being. It was plain but warm, with two large western-facing windows allowing streams of light to peel in. A dark oak four-post bed sat between the windows, with a large wardrobe and a plush chair on the opposite wall. A faded oriental rug ran the length of the room between the bed and the other furniture, complementing green and gold shades of the floral paintings on the wall.
The room was spotless, which Rose found strange considering all but one servant had left the house. She brushed the thought aside for now - these things had a way of revealing themselves in time.
Time. She wondered what he was doing in his room by himself.
Rose hoisted up one of the window sashes so she could feel the warm summer breeze on her skin, catching a fragrant whiff of flowers. There must be a garden just out of view. Leaning her elbow on the windowsill she rested her head on her hand, taking in the scenery. She wanted to tell him how beautiful it was.
Straightening, Rose crossed the room toward the door. I don't care what century this is, she thought. I don't need to rest and I don't need to be chaperoned around my friend. And anyway, the Queen's chambers were in a different wing entirely.
Quietly shutting the door behind her Rose set off down the silent corridor, retracing her steps from a few minutes earlier. After trying a couple wrong doors - it really was a large estate - she found the right one. Though she wouldn't have known it if she'd arrived five seconds later because she found the Doctor straddling his open windowsill, seemingly about to leap.
"Oi, what are you doing?" Rose half whispered, half yelled.
At the sound of her voice he whipped his head toward her, that 1000-wat smile on full voltage. "Rose! I was just coming to get you!"
"Don't know how you would've managed that with two broken legs. We're on the second floor, you know."
"That's why I have this!" he said, leaning through the open window and pulling something up. Rose realized he had tied his bedsheets together to form a rope. She laughed.
"What?"
"I think you've been watching too many prison escape films, Doctor."
"I haven't seen any, in fact, thought of this all on my own. Although that genre sounds spectacular, let's watch some next movie night."
"Okay, deal." She was beaming now. He never looked so boyish as he did when he was scheming and even though she thwarted his brilliant plan by simply walking down the hallway he wasn't upset in the slightest. She sat at the edge of his bed, which was similar to hers but backed against the opposite wall, and noticed that he must have taken off his brown pin-striped jacket during his bed sheet tying efforts. Scanning the room she found it, haphazardly thrown on an armchair.
Looking back to him she realized he had loosened his tie as well, giving him a disheveled professor look. Considering the Doctor's propensity for layers, he was practically in a state of undress. She laughed to herself remembering his words from earlier - some things are relative. Being alone with him in a bedroom for the second time today, she couldn't help but wish their both of their states of undress was a little less relative and a little more... unequivocal.
"Well I guess there's no reason to escape anymore," he said, a touch downtrodden. "Unless you want to shimmy down and walk around the grounds?"
"I'm not shimming down anything," she said firmly. "I'm a tad more breakable than you, you know."
"I know," he said, his voice low, his eyes boring into her with a sad sweetness. Rose didn't know what to do with that look so she crossed the room, picked up his crumpled jacket, and folded it neatly before laying it across the back of the chair.
He watched her in silence. It was such a small gesture, something mother might do for a child, or a wife for a husband. That last thought stuck with him. He had told her once before that he didn't do domestic, and it was true, he just wasn't wired that way. But with Rose he did want... more. He didn't know exactly what more entailed but he wanted it, always had. His former self had been able to suppress those feelings, buried them deep inside him until he almost forgot they existed.
That is, until he saw what she went through to rescue him on the game station. When she saved him, when she saved them all, it broke down every barrier he had put up, every mental door he had locked, every feeling he had cemented still within him. He didn't have to extract the vortex from her in the way he did, but he needed to. He had still felt that need, that desire, when he regenerated, thereby influencing the next identity he became. His new self was younger-looking, more charming, and desperately eager for her touch. At first, that need was sated by simply holding her hand. But lately he had been realizing that it no longer was enough.
Yes, the Doctor wanted more from Rose. And he wanted it now.
In three quick paces he crossed the room from where he was standing by the window to Rose, just straightening from draping his jacket across the chair. He put his hands on her shoulders and brought his lips down to rest on her head, breathing her in.
Rose froze, heart beating wildly. She was shocked and unsurprised at the same time. She had noticed a difference in his touch since he changed - it had become more lingering, more needy, more torturous. It was like he could finally sense how she'd always felt about him and was using it against her. She thought in his mind it was playful, all in good fun. She never let herself dream the intention behind his new touches was sincere. Well, not much anyway.
Yet there he stood behind her, mouth pressed into her wavy blonde hair, thumbs rubbing magical circles along her shoulder blades. And if she'd had any remaining doubts, they were erased when he took a step closer, closing the small gap between them, pressing himself into the small of her back. She made a quiet noise at the base of her throat and closed her eyes, still frozen in place. Feeling him there, the hard evidence of his desire against her, it was too much and not enough. So she stayed still.
Encouraged by the noise she made, the Doctor ran his hands down her arms, encircling them around her stomach. Leaning down, he planted two light kisses on her neck, over her pulse point, once again setting fire to her veins, making her shudder. "Rose," he whispered in her ear, rocking against her.
Something snapped inside her then and she pulled his arms away, walking swiftly to the still-open window, looking out but not seeing. She tilted her head upwards, unsuccessfully trying to stop the tears from spilling over.
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, not moving from his spot, not wanting to upset her any more.
"Why now?" she said turning to him, her face synched in confusion and anger, tears streaming freely. "Why not be-... Why now?"
She didn't realize it had cut her so deeply, the unrequitedness of it. So much that on the threshold of receiving everything she'd always longed for, it hurt her all the more.
He looked down, ashamed and angry. Furious with himself that, once again, he was to blame for her tears being shed. Tentatively, he walked toward her, reaching out for her hands. Stifling a soft sob, she met his reach, wanting to wipe that look out of his eyes regardless of how she felt. He touched his forehead to hers.
"I've always felt this way, Rose. Always." He pulled back in frustration, yanking at the back of his hair, trying to wrestle his thoughts into any kind of sentence that would make her tears stop flowing. "Do you remember anything from the game station, when the vortex was within you?" he asked desperately.
"No, I- I could see everything. It hurt..." her voice broke at the memory.
But the Doctor pushed on, determined to make her understand. "You looked at me, with your brilliant eyes filled with the light from the TARDIS, the vortex. You said, 'I'm burning up. It's killing me.'"
He was looking at Rose, but he was somewhere else. In the reflection of his eyes, Rose could almost see the version of her he was looking at. Touched that he remembered her words, even if she did not, she reached for his hands again.
Encouraged he continued. "I knew it was eating you up, the bad wolf, that I had to get it out of you and into me. So I took you in my arms," he dropped her hands once more to carry out the motion he just described. "I looked into your eyes, I looked into you, and I said, 'I think you need a...'"
"Doctor," she said, both completing his sentence and saying his name. Two meanings in one. Two men in one. Her eyes widened as she remembered, as it all came flooding back, the daleks, the omnipotence, the pain, the burning, his eyes, his arms, his lips. In a sense, she almost felt like she did then, when the vortex was inside her. Everything became clear, suddenly. It was all so simple.
She reached up and took his head in her hands and slowly brought his lips down to hers. The feeling was almost unbearable for both of them and they grasped at each other, gasping, trying to eliminate every molecule of space between them. He started to run his tongue along her lips but before he could finish she opened her needy mouth to him, thrusting her tongue against his. He growled and pushed her back against the windowsill, her head bumping the glass lightly. More bits of them were touching than ever before and it still wasn't enough. Some things are relative.
There was a knock at the door.
They froze, using the interruption as a much needed break for air. The Doctor took three long breaths before barking, "What?"
"Queen Victoria requests your presence in the foyer at once," the butler's voice boomed through the closed door. "And I cannot find your... friend."
"She's probably wandered off, I'll find her," the Doctor said sternly. "Tell the Queen we'll be downstairs in five minutes."
They remained in their silent embrace against the window until they heard the butler's footsteps drifting down the hall. The Doctor kissed Rose's forehead before stepping away, letting out a shaky breath and running his hand roughly through his hair. "I just... give me a minute," he said by way of apology, his voice softer, as he walked to the other side of the room. Rose straightened her clothes - as much as one can straighten an overall skirt - while she waited for him to regain his composure.
After a moment he turned to her with a sheepish smile. "Well, I suppose we should do what the Queen demands," he said brightly, trying to shake off the arousal he still felt. He offered his arm to her. Crossing the room she took it, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.
"I suppose," she said. "Though I have half the mind to tell her I'm not amused by her timing."
"Rose Tyler, don't you dare," he laughed, shaking his head. "I knew I should have spent my sixpence on the Elephant man."
