Chapter 6

The Doctor felt better. A week in prison, a few days on the run, and he went and had himself analyzed by Freud (apparently all of his issues were sexual in nature-as if he didn't know). He felt more himself than he had since meeting Rose, and now he was ready to take on a second date.

"Oh, its you," she said when she answered the phone, her voice flat. It was not the reception he was expecting.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out for some pizza," he said, feeling uneasy.

"Why should I? You said you would call!"

"I am calling."

"You said you would call tomorrow. That was on Wednesday-well it's Saturday now, ain't it?"

The Doctor winced. "Sorry. I lost track of time."

"Lost track? How can you lose track of three days?" She went silent on the other end of the line. "Are you on drugs?" she asked finally.

"_What?_ Of course not!"

"I stayed inside for two days waiting for you to call."

"I'm sorry." God he hated this.

"Yeah? Well what are you going to do to make it up to me?" He thought he heard some of her good nature returning.

"Something wonderful," he promised. "I'll pick you up in an hour?"

"Okay."

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Carrying roses and chocolates proved to be an interesting experience on a motorbike, but he managed. Rose was out on the balcony of her apartment, smiling at him as he rode up. "Nice bike," she called down, and he wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic. "My mum went out-you can come up if you want."

He did, bringing her gifts. "Is this the something wonderful?" she asked, taking the flowers and chocolates with a big grin. Teenage girls were so easy to impress.

"It's not even the beginning," he promised, kissing her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"So where were you really?" she asked, and he followed her into the kitchen where she arranged the flowers in a vase. They were pink and reminded him of her. She was too young for red roses.

"I like to travel," he answered finally. "Move around, see things, meet new people."

"Is that why you're a musician?" she asked. "Get gigs all over the country-must be nice."

"It is."

"I've never been anywhere," she said. "Not really."

"I promise I'll take you somewhere someday," he said. There was a promise he wouldn't be breaking at least. "If I could right now I would take you to the ends of the universe, and beyond."

She laughed. "I'd like to see that. Well, I'd better put these in my room so my mum doesn't see." She turned away and looked back. "Do you want to see my room?"

He smiled a little. "Yeah, I do."

It was pink and cluttered-she had posters all over her walls and pictures stuck around her vanity mirror. The bed was unmade and there were piles of clothes on the floor. He wasn't sure if all teenage girls' rooms looked like this, or if it was just Rose. But he liked it. It felt very comfortable, very her.

Rose arranged the flowers in a vase on her vanity before she sat down on her bed and leaned back, looking up at him. "So what do you think?"

"It's a nice room," he said, still looking around.

"Not about the room silly," she said, and he turned and saw here there, stretched out on the bed, a little girl who only thought she knew what she was doing.

He was going to have to sleep with her.

It was a reality that he had been trying to avoid thinking about, but there it was stretched out in front of him on a baby pink bedspread. He wasn't ready for that. "Wanna go for a ride?" he asked quickly, offering his hand and pulling her to her feet. A ride. A nice, safe ride.

He took her everywhere-all over London. They had Indian food for lunch, Greek for dinner. He took her to all of the tourist attractions she had never been to before, he took her into every shop that caught her eye and bought her so many things that they had to stop shopping because the bags kept falling off the bike. "If this is how you apologize you can be as bad as you want," she said gleefully as they zoomed too fast through London, clutching him tight around the middle so she wouldn't fall off.

He was bribing her into complacency, and he enjoyed her joy, which made him a horrible person. "Where next?" Rose asked, nearly shouting in his ear, pressing herself tight against his back as they roared through the streets. He liked the feeling of her arms and body around him more than he would normally admit.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"To your flat."

He didn't answer, setting his face in a grim non-smile. Six months. It wasn't as if he could keep putting it off. Besides, it wasn't _his_ fault. She was the one making all of the moves. Not his fault. "Okay," he said over his shoulder. He wasn't going to do anything-it was all on her. Her fault, not his. The fate of the universe was in her hands. He was just going along for the ride.