Author's Note: WARNING – Long Chapter Alert. Well, perhaps it will make up for the delay... I feel a little sheepish about that, but what with losing my inspiration and generally being fairly busy, time slipped away from me. Still... it is long... and hopefully not rambly. So – forgive me:D

As always, thanks to those of you who reviewed. It is always nice seeing new faces in things I write, especially if you enjoyed it enough to say so! Thank you, so much :) All of you. Seriously, if I sat here and named all of you, this note would be far too long; which I think it already is.

Oh, and this chapter is definitely a T. Very T. Without spoiling it, those of you in the younger department might want to shield your eyes. And take it into account that no, I haven't gone crazy, and it is very much part of the storyline. Anyway, enough from me. Enjoy!

Chapter IV - Stolen

The Doctor's real appointment, as it turned out, didn't have a time limit on it. What he had been keener to get to beforehand had been the sunsets on the top floor.

This floor, which was mostly out in the open, had given them a view of three beautiful sunsets: the suns were touching the horizon line in three different places, pulling the city into a dreamy sleep. Deep, tired colours bruised the sky, each of the suns creating its own ending effects to the day. There were pinks, oranges, reds, purples, blues, greens... hazy mixtures of the most gorgeous things Rose had ever seen. One or two clouds were silhouetted thinly against the backdrop of colours, darkening with the fading light.

Right above them, where the shining lights of the suns were beginning to die, there had been a rich, dark blue, almost black. Across its borderlines danced a hazy array of yet more colours, sparkling like the Northern Lights. The view had been quite spectacular. She and the Doctor had stood up there together, drinking out of thin champagne flutes. The drink itself had been the water from the pipes Rose had first noticed in the reception area, and its tangy sweetness was enough to make her mouth explode with flavour.

The Doctor had spoken a little of Gallifrey, too, which had set a quiet atmosphere over the two when he'd finished. Little snippets here and there, bits and pieces from his past. Though Rose had enjoyed listening to what he'd said, she hadn't really had anything evocative to say, so she'd kept pretty quiet. The visit had ended when the three suns had set, tearing away their dying light from the sky.

Emptying his glass, the Doctor had reached for her hand and held her gaze with a charming grin, his eyes glittering softly in the burning light.

"Hello," he'd spoken softly, much like he had after his regeneration.

She had smiled back, sipping the last out of her glass. "Hi, Doctor."

After a moment or two in silence, he had given the horizon line one last look, then dropped her hand to stretch.

"Right, come on," he had groaned thinly while he arched his shoulders.

"Time to go?" Rose questioned, knowing him all too well. He grinned at her.

"That's the one! Can't stand around up here all day. Sunsets only last so long. Besides, there's something much more exciting to come yet."

Anticipation getting the better of her, Rose simply beamed as the Doctor took her hand again and led her back to the lift, starting their journey back to the depth of the building. You'd have thought that, with the amount of practice he had acquired from the TARDIS, his controlling skills would have improved. This was not so.

"You're gettin' so much better at that," Rose muttered sarcastically, clutching her stomach fearfully.

"If you think you could do better, I would just love to see you try," the Doctor retorted good-naturedly as the door slid open, revealing an expansive room. There were strange domes scattered about everywhere, their fierce black doors shining out like angry teeth. "We'd probably end up in the far stretches of outer space before you admitted that I could beat you."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" he questioned back innocently.

"We spend most of our time in the far stretches of outer space, Doctor."

"Six words, Rose. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. I have a time machine - what's your excuse?"

"I haven't done anything yet!" she protested, as if her hypothetical crime had already been carried out.

"Notice the 'yet'," the Doctor grinned brightly. "Besides, this is a ridiculous conversation; these lifts don't have the capacity for outer space."

"See?" Rose stuck her tongue out.

"Oh, that's very mature," he snorted in return, taking her by the elbow and pulling her out of the lift. "Try that one on the next pretty boy we come across, see if he doesn't just leap on you."

She opened her mouth, appalled. "That's not fair. 'S'not my fault that guy wanted to feed me that drink."

The Doctor turned and grinned to her mischievously, their footsteps tapping loudly on the tiled floor as they walked.

"Who said I was talking about him? I could run up a list, if you want. I could call it 'all the boys Rose has met on our adventures'."

"Doctor, I swear, if you even - "

"Let's see... first there was Mickey. But he didn't really count, because, well. Look at 'im."

Rose stopped and frowned, her hands on her hips. The Doctor knew he was facing a wrath worse than that of Jackie Tyler, but he couldn't stop himself now he'd started; the priceless look on her face was just too much to pass up on.

"Then there was Adam - you remember him, don't you Rose? Picked him up from Van Statten's because he gave you those puppy dog eyes. Didn't believe it for a minute, myself. Can't imagine what you saw in him."

"I didn't see any- " she protested, but the Doctor went on nonetheless.

"Course, he turned out to be a bit of a nutter, didn't he? And after we plonked him back on Earth, what do you go and do? Find yourself a nice little Time Agent from several thousand years in your future. Not that Jack didn't have his uses."

"You were so jealous when he kept hittin' on me," Rose giggled, remembering him and momentarily forgetting the Doctor's game. He swung to her, an incredulous look on his face.

"I was not," he defended hotly. "I just don't see the use in a companion who's too googly eyed to do any work."

"Oh yeah? Did you see your last incarnation Doctor, or did you conveniently happen to miss it?"

"I said 'companion'," he grumbled with an air of self-importance. "And those were just the people you brought on board. Let's not forget Domnic - "

" - He needed my help! - "

" - Ryan - "

" - My cell warden - "

" - That kid from 1920. Freddie - "

" - Doctor, he was eight - "

"Excuses, excuses," the Doctor grinned teasingly. "Honestly Rose, the list goes on. It's a wonder you're still alive what with all the attention you attract!"

"You're one to talk," she snorted in protest, pleased at finally being able to get a word in edgeways. "It's not like you haven't had your fair share!"

"Name one," he replied triumphantly with a grin.

Rose thought about this for a moment with a small smile.

"My Mum."

The Doctor physically shuddered, shaking his arms in disgust.

"Don't remind me," he muttered. "In my defence, she was the one who hit on me. And I was in my Ninth form - honestly, did you lot prefer the large-eared "mature" look, or something? I certainly didn't."

He flashed her a startling grin before shrugging and heading away to one of the large domes. It was white and several metres high, long, thick wires trailing from its roof to the ceiling. Various tourists where scuttling in and out of the doors, some in conversation, some in silence.

"Oi, I'm not done with you yet!" Rose continued after the Doctor, following huffily in his wake. He laughed back at her, but this simply riled her more so. "Sarah Jane Smith," she pointed out reasonably.

"Old friend," the Doctor shot back over his shoulder, refusing to stop – this was one conversation he was not going to be drawn into.

"Cleopatra."

"Everyone called her Cleo, Rose. Let it go."

"Captain Jack?"

"There was nothing 'Captain' about him, you know. I told you that. And he would have gone for the TARDIS, given half a chance."

"Cassandra, then."

The Doctor paused for a moment, glad that his back towards Rose: it wouldn't do for her to see him blush. He remembered all too well the way that woman had launched herself on him, in Rose's body no less. That had been – that was – he couldn't think of any words to describe it, upon reflection. It had been an 'experience', to say the least.

"Oh, that hardly counts," he replied quickly. "She was... well, you saw her."

Rose raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"All right then. I got one for you."

The Doctor whirled around, his coat flying out behind him. He stopped and shoved his hand in his pockets, the smile vanishing from his face. Something unexplained in the air had changed around him, and he felt his muscles tense. For a brief second, something resembling anger flitted across his face.

"Well?" he pushed, and his voice was almost cold. He wasn't quite sure where this sudden burst of anger had come from. He just suddenly felt the need to be severely irritated and annoyed at whatever the closest thing seemed to be. Pity it was Rose.

Rose had meant to hesitate, unsure if it was fair to bring it up when they were only messing around. But at the look on his face, a condescending, irritated sort of sneer, she didn't even think twice.

"What about Reinette?" she asked, her voice hard. "Can't forget that nice little French ta- girl, can we?"

The words stung at him like a burn. The Doctor blinked slowly back at her, slightly disbelieving that she had brought it up after all this time. The accusatory tone in her voice was something he could have done without, too, and he resented the fact that she still blamed him for what had happened. Yes, all right, so he'd jumped through a mirror on the back of a white horse named Arthur – but that didn't make him a bad person. It didn't give her the right to be angry with him, and it certainly didn't give her the right to look at him the way she was now.

"We should be getting in," the Doctor replied tersely, his face unreadable. He turned back to the building. "You'll miss what I've booked, and then the entire thing will be a waste of time. I won't be coming back here any time soon, either, so you'd best make the most of it."

Rose considered his words with a hurt frown. Maybe she had been a little unfair playing the Reinette card - in all honesty, she had forgiven him. It had hurt, him leaving her like that; but not in the way she thought it might. She had figured in the past, if she ever had to "share" the Doctor, that she would be jealous. What she felt instead – a raw, despairing realisation that perhaps she wasn't so special after all – ached at her heart so much more than that.

But it still didn't excuse the clipped tone in his voice or the heavily weighted implication in his words, though. It also didn't excuse him from shrugging and turning away from her to disappear inside one of the domes without even waiting to see if she was following.

Rose had the smallest temptation just to turn around, right there, and leave him to it. Let him have his mysterious 'appointment' - why should she care, if he so obviously didn't? There was probably an awful lot she could explore here on her own and enjoy without him. But then again, who knew when she might run in to the next aphrodisiac-sporting alien? It wasn't something she particularly wanted to risk. So, with an irritated sigh, she followed the Doctor inside.

He was stood at a desk in a fairly empty room. The carpet was a dirty beige, but the walls were pristine white, offering a horrifying clash. Another of the little blue aliens, like the one at the reception desk, was seated here, blinking up to the Doctor with a large, purple eye.

"Reservation for one?" it asked, its voice deep and male, yet oddly similar to that of the female's.

"Yes, that's the one," the Doctor confirmed with a stiff nod. When Rose appeared by his side, he didn't look at her.

"Do you have the text you wish to partake in?" the blue-bodied alien asked.

"Right here," he confirmed, rummaging around in his jacket and bringing out the battered copy of 'Pride and Prejudice'. Rose wondered how he managed to fit two books in there, at least, and not let it show. He passed the book to the alien, whose name tag read 'Laur', then noticed that Rose was watching him. "I could fit the entire universe in here if I wanted to, Rose. There's no need to look at me like that."

"I wasn't - " she started, but the Doctor simply turned away from her back to Laur.

"See that she gets the room I suggested, if you'd be so kind. You might want to give her a quick introduction, too. She hasn't done this before."

Laur's eye gave a small, gracious nod. "I'll see right to it," he said kindly.

The Doctor smiled forcibly and turned to leave the room. Only Rose's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Doctor, what's goin' on? Where're you going?"

He sighed shortly before turning back to her. "Thought you might want a bit of culture while you're here. This is actually what I brought you here for, not all that other stuff we bothered with. You're going to have a nice time here and enjoy yourself; I've got some business to attend to while I'm here. I'll be back to collect you later."

"So I'm a dog, am I?" Rose retorted, a little hurt at his curt nature. "You're just goin' to come and 'collect' me when it suits you?"

"Since you put it like that - yes."

She blinked at him and let her hand drop away from his arm. His reply was short and cold, offering no form of comfort.

"All right," she snapped at last, folding her arms across her chest and gaining a gleam in her eye. "What's the matter with you? 'Cause I ain't having you going off in that mood. You might not come back."

The Doctor sighed and looked at her, but offered no answer to her question. Instead, he blinked and raised his eyes to the assistant behind.

"Keep her in until I get back. She'll be all right, I won't be long."

"Doctor!" she tried again irritably as he made to leave. He looked down to her for a minute, his mouth thinned and his shoulders tensed.

"I'll be back in a bit," he said, meeting her gaze. "I'm not having this trip wasted. Just trust me."

"But - "

"Rose." This was more tender, at least. His eyes searched her face for a moment before he impulsively leant forward and bruised her forehead with an ambitious kiss, reaching a hand to rub at her upper arm brazenly. He quickly stood back, balancing steadily on his feet, his hand coming to a rest on her elbow. His eyes met hers again, and though his face was still stern, he had lost his cold edge. "Have a good time."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving a rather deflated and confused young woman behind him.

I-----------------------------------------------------I

Laur the alien hopped down from his desk and led a bemused Rose through a door in the back, down a long flight of stairs, along one of the many corridors that branched off it and, eventually, into a room. Everything was so clinically white that she had almost felt like she was in a hospital.

He had answered her questions easily enough. Where was she? The Literature Chamber. What was that? A place where one could become a part of any fictional writing by taking on the presence of one of the characters. That had shocked her. Upon further explanation, it turned out that the place had technology that could work itself into the imaginative part of the mind, portraying one's own consciousness into a story that was shared with the system.

The room itself had been fairly bland. A table. A chair. Something that looked like a tanning bed (though this turned out of be where she would lie whilst using the system). There was a slot in the wall, too, which shot out a metallic serpentine tongue to, as it turned out, put the book on. The wall then proceeded to, in Rose's opinion, eat the book hungrily, pulling it into its depths and recognising the characters as from Earth, before spinning up the system. Laur had taken his seat in the chair and turned it to face the wall, where instantly a flat keyboard and screen came out of nowhere. Rose was vaguely stunned.

After a brief tutorial on the safety guides and how to leave the system whenever she liked, how to control her surroundings, and how to manipulate what was around her, she was still a little hesitant about lying on the bed. Understandably, she wasn't particularly fond of the idea about being unconscious whilst some form of Artificial Intelligence invaded her mind. However, she was convinced that the Doctor wouldn't have brought her if it weren't safe, much less leave her here on her own – despite his irritation earlier. So, with the kind words of Laur, she slipped underneath the semi-circular cover and obediently let consciousness drift away into sleep. She was falling through darkness, tumbling down and down until the darkness in her mind's eye became colours, mixing and blurring together as she fell. Then there were shapes - houses, roads, trees, people. Before she knew it, there were noises and creations all around her, until she came to a stop with a thud.

Rose sat up and opened her eyes. She was in an unfamiliar bed with the light streaming in through a window on the other side of her four-poster. It was a shock, to say the least, to wake up in this strange yet comfortingly familiar surrounding. She peeled the covers away slowly, revealing a nightdress that she had apparently slept in. Timidly, Rose swung her feet out of the side of the warm bed and slipped down, her soles landing on steady wooden floorboards. She stood a little unsteadily, as if this was the first time she had ever used her legs.

Stumbling over to the dresser on the other side of her room, Rose glanced in the mirror. She was almost surprised to see her own face blinking back at her - somehow, she thought she would have taken on her imagined picture of Elizabeth Bennet, heroine of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice. With a grin and a shot of pride, she made her way over to the wardrobe set into the wall and pulled out a dress to wear. It was several long minutes later - about half an hour, at least - before she felt ready enough to face the daunting thought of breakfast. She shyly made her way down the stairs of the gorgeous house and was greeted warmly by her father, Mr Bennet. His old face cracked into a wide smile at the sight of his favourite daughter, whom he simply addressed as 'Lizzy'. Her mother, Mrs Bennet, fussed over she and her sisters whilst they ate toast and drank coffee, all the while Rose feeling both bemused and happy.

Waking up in the body of a woman from late 18th century England was not something she had ever expected to do - but despite everyone speaking in the sort of manner she remembered from the TV's six-part series, it all seemed eerily natural. She also seemed to know everyone as if they were her own family, like she had grown up and spent her entire life with them. She had memories of the past twenty years as her life as Elizabeth Bennet, but also could quite clearly remembered everything about the Doctor, her life in London and the past nineteen years of her real life. If was quite bizarre, like her mind and memories were in split-screen.

During her day she was led about the town in the company of her sisters - namely Jane, though Kitty and Lydia bounded on ahead. Rose still couldn't really understand what was happening; but she was happy enough to browse in the shop windows and greet some of the neighbours cheerfully. It was as the sun was drawing to a close in the sky, after a day of luxurious laughs and simple pleasures, that the four of them began to make their way back to the house. Mary had volunteered to stay behind, something about helping Mrs Bennet with her needlework. Rose and Jane had had a little chuckle about it later that day.

The views had been fantastic. Everything was beautiful and serene, the valleys bathed in colourful light, the town embroidered with rich houses and decorative shops. The dirty gravel path that Rose's shoes had tread all day merely added to the picturesque scene in her head. What was even stranger, she found, was walking through her imagination. It was precisely how she had imagined it whilst reading the book: to have it brought out right in front of her was something of a miracle. Something that she would treasure forever. And the Doctor was to thank for it all.

Rose spent a little part of the day thinking about her Doctor. His attitude before she had slipped in to this imagination world had been so cold, she had been determined to say she wouldn't enjoy it. Of course, even when he was angry with her, he seemed to know better - she was having the time of her life. But angry? Had he really been that upset? She had hit a nerve in their argument, she realised, but it wasn't anything too drastic. She would make it up to him when she saw him again, she vowed. It had been a stupid argument. So, with that thought set firmly in her mind, the rest of Roses' stay was fairly pleasurable.

The day she had visited, as it turned out, was the evening of the ball. That fateful ball where Darcy had first met Elizabeth and disliked her - and vice versa. The ball where Bingley would soon dance with Jane, thus beginning their roller coaster ride of affections. Rose wondered if she should say any of this out loud - was it possible to destroy Jane Austen's novel, cause some sort of weird paradox all because of her big mouth? She didn't really want to find out so, like the good girl she was, she kept quiet.

After the evening meal, consisting of a roast dinner, Rose and Jane helped prepare each other for the ball. Jane, Rose noticed, brought up Bingley's name more than once and Rose was more than happy to talk about him - once she had made the mistake of mentioning a Mr Darcy, only just too late realising that none of the family had heard of him yet, let alone met him. With a blush and a mumbled apology, Rose had swiftly brought the conversation around to Bingley again whilst putting up Jane's hair. A few short hours later, they were all ready to attend the ball.

The ball itself was rather exciting. Rose had never pictured herself as the sort of fancy ball type, but somehow being there - with a slim white dress of sequins and pearls, her hair tied back in the tightest of smooth buns - brought the atmosphere to life. The room was alive with chatter, dancing and music. She hadn't noticed Bingley arrive with his four other companions, until Jane sidled up next to her and pointed him out. Rose grinned at her 'sister', amused by the fact that she couldn't hide her joy at having danced with him twice already. Rose looked across the room to find him, and was quite impressed by what she saw. He was definitely the 'yum' factor in attractive, she reckoned. Perfect, smooth features, a gentle face, defined jawline, soft, sandy hair. Rose idly congratulated her imagination on such a work of art - she usually had trouble with buildings, let alone people.

Jane went off to join him again with a small curtsey, leaving Rose alone. She suddenly wondered why she couldn't recognise Darcy in the crowd - surely, if her memory was correct, he should be at this ball? However, her question was answered before she had dwelled on it too long.

"Hello, Miss Bennet."

The voice came from behind her and, with only the slightest of frowns, Rose turned in her seat to look up into the face of... the Doctor. She gaped, lost for words. He was standing there in a penguin tuxedo, his smart black jacket framing a crisp, white shirt. He was even wearing the bow-tie. His hair had been combed back off his smooth face, but only enough to send it searing off in all directions. He looked, actually, not unlike the waiter he had pretended to be in that parallel universe. Rather handsome, actually, Rose noted. He topped Bingley, hands down.

Rose squeaked with joy and surprise, leaping up and flinging her arms around his neck.

"Easy, easy," the Doctor laughed with affection, curling his hands tenderly around her back. She jumped down again, her cheeks slightly tinged. The Doctor grinned a smile that could have warmed the heart of even the real Darcy. "Got to keep up appearances, you know," he added quietly with a wink.

Rose simply beamed up at him, happiness spilling out of her like lava from a volcano.

"What you doin' here?" she asked happily. The grin showed in his voice when he answered, if not his deep eyes.

"Came to see you, didn't I?"

"Well yeah, but... I mean... how did you...?"

"Nifty little trick," he replied, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I came in to pick you up and was led to your room. When they told me which part of the story you were getting to, I just couldn't resist. Thought I'd pop in for a quick nose, see what your imagination's like. I've got to say, I'm impressed. Most people just have only one or two background influences. You know, room here, chair there. Even some of the main characters are cut out, depending on their importance. But you... you've got it all." His eyes had been surveying the room up until this point, drinking in the fabulous array; but at this last comment, his eyes flicked down to her again and his voice became as soft as melted butter. "Good for you."

Rose blushed and looked to the wall beside them.

"Yeah, well," she coughed resolutely. "Always did like the book as a kid."

The Doctor raised a knowing, amused eyebrow.

"Are you sure you don't mean you liked the television series?" he asked cheekily, biting down on his lip as he watched her fidget at his question. "You know, the one where Colin Firth gets his shirt off? The one that all the girls went mad for? I'm sure you liked it."

The heat in Rose's cheeks was almost too much to bear; her flush apparent to anyone who was looking close enough.

"Was all right," she mumbled in return, avoiding his eye contact. The Doctor laughed lightly before pouting.

"I'll just leave, shall I?" he joked. "You were probably excepting old Col to fill these shoes anyway; suppose I was a bit of a disappointment."

"No," she replied instantly shaking her head. Feeling her courage grow enough to brave eye contact, she let her eyes fall on his again. He was smiling softly, and not just with his mouth. "You could never be a disappointment, Doctor. Rather you any day."

Touched by the words, he was silent for a moment as he stepped backwards and let his eyes roam over her entire figure. The dress shimmered up at him: a white silver, accentuating her curves yet remaining the height of elegance. His eyes drifted upwards to rest on her beautifully smooth face, her large, brown eyes blinking patiently back at him, waiting for his verdict.

"Perfect," he grinned at last, before dipping forwards and sweeping her into a hug, spinning her around and not caring that people were beginning to look. Forget appearances: this was imagination. Anything - everything - could happen.

Rose giggled in his arms, a slight breeze picking up on her face as he spun her.

"What's got in to you?" she laughed when he had set her down again. He simply grinned and reached for her hand.

"Life!" he returned cheerily. "Imagination, soul, heart, spirit. You name it, Rose, it's in me. It's in you, too. That's what I love about this place - brings out the best in all of us."

When her eyes met his, he didn't look away. He merely drowned in her depths and grinned back stupidly, before stepping forwards and hovering over her, his eyes sincere.

"I wanted to apologise," he said earnestly, his eyes unblinking as he held her gaze. Apparently, he could change moods extremely quickly.

"What for?" Rose asked in return, her expression pure.

"What for?" he echoed with disbelief. "For earlier. For being so cold with you. I shouldn't have just left you there. I should have stayed with you and explained what was going on. Not gone off and left you like I did. That just wasn't on."

But Rose shook her head, feeling his apology unnecessary.

"'S'not your fault, Doctor. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"But you had every right to. You're right, I did - "

"It doesn't matter," she cut across quickly, not particularly wanting to go into this right now. "Look, let's just both say we're sorry and forget it, yeah?"

He frowned down at her defiantly, his hand tightening on hers.

"Rose, you have no reason to apologise. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Doctor," she countered sternly, and he could tell from her look that it was water under the bridge. They could be here for the next millennia arguing this out, and arguing was hardly what he wanted to be doing. So, instead, he grinned good-naturedly and reached for her other hand, swinging them from side to side.

"I was lying, by the way. When I said I had some 'business' - I didn't have any business."

She smirked up to him almost cheekily.

"I knew it. You had the look of someone who couldn't wait to get rid of me!"

"I'm still sor- "

"Do I have to get into this again with you?" she snapped affectionately. The Doctor shrugged, feigning innocence. Then he grinned again and began to pull her towards the centre of the floor.

"Come on," he coaxed gently, sensing some hesitation. He looked at her pleadingly, his fingers tickling the back of her hand. When she blinked back at him calmly he added in a voice so soft only she could hear: "I want to see you dance."

She was shocked. "Doctor, I - "

But he had already pulled her into a swaying motion, his hand cupping hers gently just below her shoulder, his thumb resting across the knuckle of her index finger. His other hand found her waist easily enough and, as they began to move around the room to the music, the other couples in tow, Rose relaxed and put her hand on his shoulder as they danced.

It was easy enough to follow the steps with the Doctor leading her - he was brilliant with his feet, never once faltering, never once slipping up, his eyes always, always on her. She gazed back affectionately, the room spinning around them and a grin spreading over her face. He matched it, doubly so, his eyes lighting up like fire. Time melted away around them until the Doctor seemed to notice something.

"You're good," he commented lightly as they span; he sounded almost surprised. The rest of the room was a hazy blur, though whether that was their motion of the effect of the look the Doctor was giving her, Rose couldn't tell.

"Got a good teacher," she answered with wisdom.

"Nah," the Doctor countered as they circled the floor. "I've given up teaching. This - is all you. And it's good, Rose. Very good. No one has ever been able to keep up with me while I've danced before."

The breath caught in her throat as their intense gaze reached climax. There was a possibility he was talking about dancing. A probability, in fact - but there was also the smallest of chances that he was trying to tell her something else. Not wanting to dwell on it too much, Rose simply let the room fall away around them as their feet danced a pattern that hadn't been stepped in years.

"No?" she questioned before she could stop herself, her eyes shining with adoration. She felt his hand tighten around her waist.

"No," he confirmed, his voice steady, his gaze not leaving hers for a second. It was like he was staring into her very soul and exploring her depths yet further. "Everyone else, they've always fallen behind; got lost in the music; given up. But not you. Never you. You're with me every step of the way, not even afraid of the notes you don't recognise or the steps you don't know. Do you know how amazing that is, Rose? How amazing it is to find someone like that? Because I'll tell you something: I do. I'm used to my own beat, my own time, my own notes, instruments, steps, rhythm - you name it. The things no one else has been able to match."

"But, Doctor," Rose reasoned quietly, amazed and astounded by the pride she saw reflected in his eyes, "Isn't it all a bit redundant if you don't have anyone to dance with?"

He smiled at her happily, letting out a small sigh through his nose.

"Yes and no. It's easy enough to teach someone the basics and get on with it. But it's a bit like putting a small plaster over a deep graze: there's only so much good it'll do until it all falls apart and I'm forced to find someone else to fill the gap. Partners come and go with me, Rose. It's a fact of life."

At this, Rose did break the eye contact, letting her eyes flick to his upper torso instead, her forehead curling into a frown.

"Oh."

"Thing is..." the Doctor continued thoughtfully before she got the wrong idea, "I never thought I'd ever find the person who knew the moves off by heart beforehand. Who didn't need tutorials, who I could just jump in with, all the elaborate twists and turns I could think of included, and still have them keep up. More than just keep up. Startle and surprise me in their courage and ability, despite only having been at it shorter than a lifetime. Or, come to think of it, nine lifetimes."

Rose, who got the distinct impression that they had stopped talking about the physical act of dancing quite a while back, grinned and blushed, her eyes rising slowly to meet his again.

"If you said what I think you said..." she told him slowly as they moved, "Then thank you, Doctor. Means a lot."

"I'm surprised you followed that," he admitted with a contemplative sigh. "I think I had a metaphor for a metaphor at some point. But my point still stands. I mean it, Rose." A pause as he grinned at her, completely swallowed by the look she was giving him. "You're better than all of them. Wouldn't change you for the world."

From irritatingly ambiguous to shockingly blunt in a matter of seconds, she thought with a smile. He looked at her gently, his eyes glittering.

As if picking up on their mood, the music around them suddenly pulled to a slow, easy beat, and the couples who had been circling the floor (all of whom Rose had forgotten about) melded together in a hazy sway. She suddenly found the Doctor a lot closer to her than earlier, his hand slipping from her waist to her back, his fingers burning through the dress as he did so. He took in a quiet, shuddered breath before leading her clasped hand surreptitiously to his other shoulder. Then slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers, he ran his fingers delicately back down the bare skin of her arm, up her shoulder, along the curve of her silken neck and brought his hand to rest to cup her cheek, his touch so light it was barely more than a whisper.

They were still swaying, ever so slightly, in time with the gentle music. Rose wondered when the lights had dimmed.

The Doctor lowered his head slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath tickling under her nose. She couldn't help but smile. God - he couldn't half dance.

"It's a bit like a dream, really, isn't it?" he commented quietly, and he was so close Rose could feel the movement of his lips brush millimetres against hers. A charge of something stronger than electricity shot through her.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked, a quiet, desperate pleading in her voice. She felt the Doctor smile.

"I hope not. It means I am, too. That this is all our imagination." A pause, during which Rose felt the heat in the room rise by about two hundred degrees. "Do you think you're imagining this?"

"I - " Rose began, her eyes half closed. The connection between her brain and her mouth seemed to have been cut off by something, perhaps the fingers that were lightly caressing the small of her back. "...Don't know," she finished with a breath, her mind swimming.

"Hmm. Maybe we should find out. What do you think?"

The Doctor's eyes were open, blinking at her softly. He was so close, she could feel the heat of his body surging through her like magma. She could have fallen into him right there, drowned in those dark eyes of his. He traced his thumb deftly across her cheek, bringing it to rest on her full, pouting lips. Without so much as a hesitation, he tilted his head and pulled himself towards her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. His touch was so perfect and exquisite, Rose wondered how she had ever managed to survive without it.

"Tell me if it's too much..." she heard him whisper softly, his nose brushing against her fine strands of hair. Her heartbeat raced, thumping away loudly in her head. She couldn't think. She could barely even breathe. Her vision had become clouded with a thick fog until all she could see was the Doctor, his soft breath caressing her skin as he moved his lips over her cheek. With an expert amount of pressure from his fingertips, he angled her neck so that he could follow a smooth line down her skin with his teasing mouth, never once faltering, but gentle and slow in his actions.

He could smell her inside him, breathing her in like oxygen. She was deep and raw, her passion emanating off her in waves, triggering senses he had long forgotten he had. There was a sweetness touching at her edge, an innocence that he craved, even now. It was not enough to just catch her scent as he followed a line of whispered kisses to the hollow of her neck. It wasn't the same as taste. He wanted to taste her, drown in feel of her against his mouth. Temptation ripping through him like the claws of a wild animal, he gently flicked his tongue out over the flesh at his mouth, applying just that extra bit of pressure as his lips parted above her skin. He slowly tickled his tongue over the enticement of her flesh, searing her with thrills that ran through her entire body. His touch became stronger, more dominant, as he let his teeth scrape lightly at her frame, relishing her taste. Her skin was sweet and pure, like almonds and cherries, but there was a tangy bitterness there too which he recognised in himself.

Rose let out a soft moan, arching her neck backwards, offering him more of a canvas to work with. He was more confident now, his kisses more definite as he moved from her neck to outline her jaw, the edge of his teeth just barely grazing her tempting flesh. He worked his way slowly back up the curve of her chin to her soft cheeks, his actions rewarded with desperate gasps. The hand at her back pulled her closer to him and his eyes fluttered closed with ecstasy as he planted sweet kisses against her. Her hands were working the way from the nape of his neck to his tangled mass of her, inviting him to her skin. A deep, possessive growl echoed somewhere from the back of his throat as he felt her request, and his fingers on her cheek pulled her neck down again, inching him closer and closer to her enticing lips. His eyes flickered open, just for a second, as he revelled the beauty in his arms. Oh, how he had waited for this.

Then his gaze fell on her lips, parted slightly, and all other thought became desire; he swept towards her in a final caress, stealing her mouth away with his own. The sensation was fantastic. At the lightest pressure she felt him almost melt beneath her, tilting his head to take her kiss, again and again. She had no hesitation parting her mouth as he captured her, the merest tickle of his tongue teasing her to the brink of whimpering. He was soft and gentle, but behind every flick of his tongue and brush of his lips there was a deep passion that coursed through him, fighting for an escape. It came when their kiss depended, his tongue finding hers and setting an explosion of sensations and tastes thrilling through her. His flavour was dark and rich, like real, bitter coffee. The touch that came with it was edged with a dangerous possession she had always known he'd had. A possession she had fallen for. Every atom and molecule that had the ability for coherent thought screamed for more, needing her to find a way to become a part of him forever.

It was only when Rose found she couldn't spend the rest of her life without breath that the kiss subsided. It ended with a soft parting, a longing connection that they kept for what felt like an eternity. The Doctor's lips finally broke reluctantly from hers and he rested against her forehead, his breath so deep he was almost panting. He refrained from opening his eyes, holding on to the mental picture in his mind for as long as he could. But eventually he gave in, and was pleased for it. She had a warm glow about her, an enticing flush that almost made him lose his last thread of control right then and there.

"My, my. That's some imagination you've got," he breathed with a grin after a while and she blinked at him softly, words refusing to form constructive sentences in her mind.

The Doctor brought his head up slightly, using his fingers to delicately tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He bit his lip, tasting her still, as he looked down at her. The sheer look on his face was enough to send Rose into wild shivers of excitement. He gently let his hand drop to her side, where her awaiting fingers had retreated.

"Tell you what," he murmured softly, his fingers playing against hers. "Why don't we get out of this system, shall we? It's not quite where I had in mind..."

Rose, still incapable of speech, nodded mutely. Her head was so thick with desire, she could barely recognise what was going on. But listening to the Doctor's words, she released her mind from the system surrounding her and let her mind drift to consciousness...

I-----------------------------------------------------I

The Doctor paced impatiently in the waiting lounge. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were slightly hunched, irritation clear on his face. The rounded, white plastic seats offered uncomfortable support, and he was hardly one to sit down anyway. He stopped and glanced to the clock on the wall. Oh, come on: she should be out by now. He had put in a call for her withdrawal some time ago, ever since coming out of the system himself. That had been a strange experience and a half.

All set to enjoy some of the finer points in his life - courtesy of an autobiography he had been writing in his spare time - the Doctor had first of all been more than a little miffed to find that the system could only partly translate his Gallifreyan language, leaving large blotches of adventures out all over the place. He had also been more than surprised when Rose had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, admitting to the fact that everyone connecting her with London had died in a freak aeroplane crash and that she had no more ties to Earth. On top of that, she announced the rediscovery of Gallifrey and that it was waiting for him to visit. She had also laughed at his scarf.

"I liked that scarf," the Doctor said aloud now, his voice tinged with sadness. His fourth incarnation had had quite a thing for scarves, and he'd always been rather fond of them. One of the more patient visitors - a small little guy with a horn sticking out of his forehead - looked up at the Doctor like he was mad. The Doctor beamed, but before he had the chance to come up with a witty reply, the door at the end of the room slid open. Rose was ushered through by a hasty guide. When she spotted the Doctor, her face lit up and she beamed at him as if he were Chuckles the Clown brandishing a giant, red lollipop.

"There you are!" she grinned happily as she approached. The Doctor's smile he gave her in return was slightly wan.

"Here I am, indeed," he agreed thinly. "Did you have a good time?"

She frowned at him and paused, considering his nature.

"What's got in to you? What happened to your 'life is great' personality?"

The Doctor blinked. "Think you took a knock to the head, Rose." He smiled, this time with feeling, tapping her lightly on the head with a loose fist.

"You mean - " Rose paused, trying to add up exactly what the Doctor had told her. She had woken with the memories like a dream-like quality, fading away from her fast. But the experience had been something she would never forget. "You don't remember?"

"Er... remember what? I could give you a full account of the day, if you like; I think you'll find my memory's in tact."

"Oh," Rose sighed, frowning to herself. Did he regret it? Was he trying to worm his way out of it? Could he really not remember? She couldn't tell. "All right."

Picking up on her expression like an eagle to a rabbit, the Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Rose, you saw me in the system, didn't you?" he asked, but went on before she could answer. "It must have been a small addition to their programming. Either that, or a glitch. Happens sometimes, even to the best of us."

She blinked at him, not entirely sure what he meant. "So... it was just a mistake, then?"

"That's the one," the Doctor confirmed with a nod. "You popped in for a little in mine, too. I suppose that rather then activating the imagination just for the book, it portrayed some deeper parts of our imagination. Inner desires, maybe. Brought them out in the middle of the storyline because it could - fascinating. It may be a glitch, but think of the possibilities if they've actually harnessed that! People could have the chance to live in their dreams... Not forever, understandably. Just long enough to know what it would be like. Amazing."

He began to lead Rose out of the room as they talked, and they emerged out of another door into the reception chamber of the dome. As he headed across the carpet and through the doors, he failed to noticed Rose's ashen face. It had all been her imagination. He'd even as good as told her so - her Doctor. So clever, brilliant, all-knowing. And her inner desire... She gave a small shudder.

"You all right?" the Doctor asked with a worried expression.

"Yeah," Rose nodded quickly, not quite being able to look at him. "Yeah. Fine."

They walked in silence back to the lift. The Doctor barely said a word as he fiddled with the controls again - he didn't look at her or reach for her hand, either. Not that Rose particularly minded. Her mind was set on her imagination, on the experience. Glancing to him every now and then while he worked with the controls, she felt a tingling sensation on her skin, as if hundreds of tiny insects were crawling all over her. She felt a guilty sickness rise in her stomach and had to look away. The Doctor - her Doctor - reduced in her mind to nothing more than a piece of meat. She feared would never be able to look at him in quite the same way again.

When the doors slid open, after yet another bumpy ride, Rose was surprised to see the arrival bay. The Doctor stepped out with his hands in his pockets and an easy grin on his face, expecting her to follow. She did so, if a little tentatively.

"Doctor, where're we goin'?" she asked, following in his wake. He turned his head against the angle of his body to look at her, before pulling to stop. She did the same by his side, looking up to him with a questioning frown.

For a brief moment, he looked at her with all the seriousness in the world. Then he let out a drawn sigh and began making his way towards the arrival bay.

"We can't stay," he answered quietly while they walked, his expression shallowed. "I know I said we could, but we can't. Something's come up."

"What kind of something?"

The Doctor looked to Rose with a hollowed look in his eyes, a sort of wary disappointment she had not seen in a long time.

"It's the TARDIS," he sighed worriedly. "This place has been stealing from us. The energy she gives off, it's tempting for anyone to want to sneak in and nab. Nothing serious has come of it, don't worry," he added, seeing Rose's incredulous expression. "They just claimed they needed to 'borrow' some power from all the ships that were docked, something about supplying energy to... something or other. I wasn't really listening - it was a load of malarkey, anyway. They just wanted a good peek inside my ship. Fortunately, she told me about it right away. Good old girl, she is. Course..." The Doctor trailed off, somewhat guiltily, reaching a hand to rub thoughtfully at the back of his neck. His features adopted a screwed-up, attentive look about him while he spoke. "...I only realised that was what she was trying to tell me after I'd started a nice little trip down memory lane. Fascinating technology, this place. Inspiring. I tell you, Rose, there's nothing like it. I'm almost sorry not to have the chance to bring you back here again. Oh, that's a point - "

He paused in his monologue, flicking his eyes to Rose again. She was standing patiently listening to him ramble, his words somehow meaning both something and nothing to her. She couldn't make sense of half of them, but it was as if they were rearranging themselves in her mind, spelling out a different meaning to his speech. When he caught her eye, she merely raised an eyebrow.

The Doctor grinned bashfully, lowering his arm.

" - I owe you an apology, I think," he said slowly, watching her.

There was a pause as Rose considered him. She leant against the wall carefully, beside the passage that was soon to open out into the corridor that led them to the TARDIS.

"What for?" she asked cautiously, knowing full well what was coming. Even in her mind, she supposed his apologies couldn't be that different. The reminder of what had happened... afterwards... sent guilt flooding through her.

Carefully, slowly, he reached for her hand and glanced guiltily to the floor.

"I was a little short with you earlier, before I sent you into the Literature Chamber. It was the TARDIS' influence - me picking up on her bad mood, if you like. I'd be pretty miffed, too, come to think of it: some smarmy little alien trying to steal my life force. It's not like they don't have any- "

"Doctor," Rose interrupted good-naturedly, saving him from another rant. He grinned at her, really and truly this time, his eyes lighting with him.

"Not much of an apology, is it?" he laughed.

Rose shook her head, but smiled. "More'n I deserve, though. I'm... I'm sorry, too. For – "

"Don't," the Doctor interrupted gently, squeezing her hand. He looked their gaze. "Just... don't, Rose. You needn't."

They smiled at each other, sharing something so subtle that passers by would have missed it.

The door slid open beside them. The Doctor grinned, slinging an arm loosely around her shoulder while they walked down the glass corridor together in amiable silence. Thanking the receptionist curtly, the couple stepped into the TARDIS. It disappeared with its grating, metallic surge of a noise, into the realms of the Time Vortex, completely oblivious to the danger that was surrounding it...

With a sneer and a malevolent smile, the figure watching the cells sat back in its high leather chair and steepled its fingers. The trap had been sprung. Information was at the ready. The only thing to do now was wait.

Next Chapter...

Chapter V - Seeing is Believing

"I think we've gotten past the stage of the big differences," he continued, toying playfully with the fingers on her hand, "And I know you've accepted me in this form. But it's the little things, isn't it? The small traces of my old personality that shine through, they bring you back down to Earth a bit, don't they?"

Rose met his eye and nodded, ever so slightly. He linked their fingers.