A/N: I'm so sorry it's been such a long time since I last updated this, I've just been busy and lacking in motivation. But I'm back now, and hopefully I should be updating more regularly. I'd also like to give a big thank you to whovianhalfblood, who beta-read this chapter, and has been very kind to me. Hope you enjoy!


Vibrant oranges and pinks were streaked artistically across the sky as John gradually awoke from his fitful slumber. In the few moments after his eyelids flickered open, his mind was a blank canvas until the memories from the previous day splashed it with colour. A sleepy grin spread across John's face as he pictured Rose, the beautiful young woman who had shown him such kindness when his car had broken down. The faint scent of her perfume clung to the duvet which he was still snuggled up to, and he was yet again reminded of her hospitality. Thanks to the added comfort in his car provided by her, John had had the best night's sleep in a long time.

John used his hands to push himself into a sitting position, a gigantic yawn enveloping his facial features. At that very moment, a familiar pink and yellow figure, blurred by the condensation on the car windows, could be seen approaching the vehicle. Rose tapped on the window cheerily when she got close enough, and John was only too happy to greet her. He opened the car door this time instead of just the window so that communicating was a little easier.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" She smiled playfully, and John noticed she was clutching a mug.

"First you catch me talking to my car, now you see me pull a hideous yawn! It's honestly a wonder you haven't sent me packing yet – not that I'd have much to pack, mind…"

"You get more attractive by the minute." Rose's teasing tone hid the honesty behind her words.

John became quite clearly flustered at this. "Aha, I'm sure that's not true. I mean, look at this hair!" He pointed emphatically at the brunette bird's nest currently perched on his head, which was all the more a mess due to him having just woken up.

"That is some fairly impressive bed hair!" Rose giggled at the comic sight of John's embarrassed facial expression and eccentric hairstyle, but also to conceal any hint of sincerity in her comment about his looks.

John yielded to the same face-splitting grin she'd witnessed a few times the previous day. It was undeniably contagious; Rose had to bite her lip to prevent her smile from widening. Changing the subject, she extended the hand holding the mug out to John. "Anyway, here you go – I made you a cuppa tea. I thought it'd wake you up a bit."

"Oh, you are brilliant!" John's beaming face showed no sign of fading.

"Three sugars and milk, just how you like it." Rose added, studying John's face as he peered into the cup.

"You really are far too kind, Rose." He spoke softly, his brown eyes fixating on her in a way that caused her heart to flutter erratically. "I must pay you back somehow… I know! Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Er, no. I was just going to get it actually." Rose replied.

"Right then! I'll make breakfast for us – how do banana pancakes sound? You do have bananas, don't you?" John's expression became suddenly sincere, as if the question of having a certain fruit in stock was a matter of life or death.

"I should do, yeah. But wait, you don't have to make breakfast for me! Honestly, I'm just happy to help you."

"I know, and you've been fantastic, but it's only common decency for me to return the favour. Besides, bananas are good for you, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Don't worry about it, Rose. You just go put your feet up, and food will be served in no time."

This revealed itself to be his famous last words.

Fifteen minutes later, John was desperately wafting a tea towel at the deafening smoke alarm, while Rose attempted to scrape the burnt pancakes off the bottom of the frying pan.

"I thought you said you could make pancakes?!" Rose yelled above the cacophony.

Concentrating on stopping the alarm, John didn't turn around as he replied. "I said I would make them, which isn't necessarily the same as saying I could make them…" Uncertainty was apparent in his tone; it was obvious he knew his pedantic argument wouldn't stand.

"Well I could let you stay in my house, but that doesn't necessarily mean I would." Rose retaliated. There was a hint of playfulness in her voice, and not a trace of nastiness, yet she was serious enough that John's face fell.

"Oh… I'm sorry, Rose." The smoke alarm ceased its beeping at that moment, allowing John to soften his voice as he turned around to address Rose. His forehead creased and his eyes filled with remorse as he apologised. "I just felt bad because you've been so accommodating; I had to give you something in return."

Sighing, Rose smiled gently. John's puppy-dog eyes acted as a catalyst for her already-inevitable forgiveness. "It's fine, honestly. The frying pan was getting old anyway. And you don't owe me anything, John – your company is enough for me." A beautiful smile spread across her face.

John reciprocated Rose's feelings, his perfectly content expression a mirror of hers. "Are you sure, though? I could always try making another batch of pancakes, or some other food if you like…"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." Rose commented amusedly, gesturing towards the lump of burnt pancake still stuck to the bottom of the pan. "I don't fancy my kitchen being set on fire, thanks."

They laughed together, a melody that echoed around the room and filled the house with joy. Although Rose loved her little cottage, she'd always felt a pang of loneliness when pottering about on her own; for the first time, it felt truly lived in and had a sense of home. It was as if John was her housemate and had been for a while. His presence was so comforting, Rose felt entirely at ease around him, as if they were already close friends. She knew she should be wary – he was still a stranger, after all – but her gut instinct was telling her there was no reason not to trust him. He was just so easy to get along with.

"Alright, fair enough – I'll avoid cooking from now on. I can make tea, though, if you think you can risk letting me." John suggested, cheekily poking his tongue between his teeth.

"Go on, then." Rose agreed. It would technically be John's second cup for the morning, though it didn't matter much to Rose, since his first cup had gone cold during the pancake burning fiasco. She dumped the frying pan in the sink and turned back to the counter to start making breakfast for the two of them. "What would you like to eat? I've got toast, cereal, eggs – I might have some bacon and beans, but not enough for a full English."

"Ooh, I'm spoiled for choice here!" John replied playfully. He appeared to be looking for something in the kitchen as he conversed with Rose, and frowned when his search proved fruitless. "Sorry, where are the cups and teabags?"

Opening a cupboard to John's left, Rose laughed as she grabbed two mugs and placed them in front of him on the counter. She then reached up to the shelf above and seized teabags and sugar. "There you go. Milk's in the fridge, and I'm sure you can fill a kettle without causing any trouble. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm having some toast," she prompted.

"Toast sounds good. Simple, but effective. I am fond of some nice toast, me. Lots of butter though, that's the trick. Jam's good, too. Otherwise it's just bland. Oh, hang on!" John exclaimed suddenly, making Rose jump. He'd been babbling while filling up the kettle. "Did you say you had eggs?"

"Er, yep." Rose confirmed. Her tone was a little distracted, as she was currently concentrating on popping four slices of bread in the toaster and getting butter out of the fridge.

"Could we have scrambled eggs on toast? Please? Like I said before, a good breakfast is vital for the day ahead." And there were John's puppy-dog eyes again.

Rose couldn't help but grin at him. "Of course, that's fine. You can whisk the eggs then, if you think you can handle it," she teased.

"Thanks!" John beamed, so happy to be helping with breakfast that he ignored Rose's mocking comment.

Fifteen minutes or so later, the two of them had finally prepared scrambled eggs on toast. Despite his previous failure, John was surprisingly skilled at seasoning the food – the eggs tasted wonderful thanks to added salt and pepper. He and Rose sat cradling their mugs of tea once they'd polished off their plates.

"That's the best breakfast I've had in ages. You did a great job." Rose spoke honestly, complimenting John in the process.

"Pfft, I barely did anything! I only did the eggs, and that doesn't take much talent." John brushed off Rose's words; however, it was obvious by the slight glow of his cheeks that he appreciated her kind words.

"Well it's certainly an improvement from the pancakes." Rose added, biting her lip as she smirked. She couldn't resist another dig at John; he was an easy target.

"Oh, I'll never hear the end of that, will I?" He groaned, but he was also smiling, albeit with embarrassment.

Giggling, Rose swept her gaze over her wrist, where her watch was. She did a double-take when she registered the time: 8:20am. "Oh my God," she took a sharp intake of breath, immediately rising from her seat and hastily clearing the plates away.

"What is it? What's wrong?" John asked, eyebrows low in concern.

"I was meant to set off for work twenty minutes ago, I'm gonna be late!" Ditching the plates and various cooking utensils in the sink, Rose dashed about in preparation to leave the house.

"This is my fault, I'm sorry." John apologised. He grabbed their half-empty mugs of tea and poured them down the plughole, wanting to be of help.

"No, no, don't worry about it. I should have kept an eye on the time." Rose shrugged on a jacket and picked up her house keys.

"I'd offer you a lift, but that's kind of impossible since my car still isn't fixed." John mentally kicked himself for saying something so stupid and useless the moment his words left his lips.

"It's fine. I should still be able to catch a bus…" Rose muttered, speaking to herself as much as John. As she processed his most recent words, it dawned on her that she didn't know what to do with him. He couldn't exactly stay in her house – no matter how well they seemed to be getting on. A tiny bit of paranoia was still nagging at the back of her mind, reminding her that John could be a thief who would steal anything valuable if she left him in her house alone. But then she felt bad because he was still stranded...

Seeming to read her mind, John addressed the exact dilemma she was thinking over. "I don't expect you to let me stay in your house, so I'll just stay parked outside while I figure out where to go next. Is that alright?"

"Yeah, of course! Oh wait, you'll need a toolbox. And food, in case you get hungry." Rose was getting in more of a daze the more she tried to sort things out.

"Toolbox? Oh! My car, yes, I was going to try fixing him – it. I almost forgot, silly me. I've got a few tools in the boot that should be enough to sort it. And never mind about food; that breakfast should last me a while yet." He flashed Rose a grin as he made his way towards the door. "You just get yourself off to work, don't worry about me," he reassured her, knowing he'd caused her enough bother already.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Rose asked as she slung a bag over her shoulder and headed out the door.

"Yeah! I'll be right as rain."

At this point, they had both stepped out of Rose's cottage. She locked the door then turned to John for a final farewell. "Alright then, I'm gonna head off to my bus stop. I just hope I can get there in time."

"'Course you will! Have a great day, Rose." John grinned, waving at her as she began to jog along the country path.

"Thanks, see you later!" Rose shouted, picking up her pace.

John watched as she eventually disappeared into the distance. He hoped she wasn't late; he really did feel guilty about holding her back. Opening up the boot of his car, John sifted through the objects until he found generic car-fixing tools (spanner, screwdriver, etc) then set to work on Travis.