A/N Things between John & Rose seem to be escalating, bringing Rose to a decision.

Chapter 6

What Rose had first told herself would be a one-time outing had somehow become a recurring event, with two more weekends spent together with John at the track. But after accepting his first invitation, it would have been difficult to turn down others without raising questions. And questions, after all, were the types of things she tried to avoid. She decided it was best in this case to simply go along.

And the surprising truth was, Rose found herself actually enjoying those weekends. She loved the races, so maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise. Yet she began to realize that perhaps it wasn't just the races she found herself enjoying. It might have also been the company. Dr. Smith was… Well, she wasn't really sure what he was or how to define him. But he was different from anyone she had known in ways she still couldn't fully explain.

He had his quirks, to be sure. And his intelligence rivaled anyone she had ever known. But he was also just…enjoyable to be with. He made her smile more often than not, was never at a loss for words even on the most trivial of topics, and he actually seemed to make strides to be a true gentleman – holding chairs, opening doors, and never pressuring her in inappropriate ways.

She was pretty certain he was attracted to her. Why would she have his attention otherwise? But that didn't seem to be his only source of interest, which surprised her. Surprised and concerned her. He truly seemed interested in her, beyond the superficial sense. Of course, he didn't have the slightest idea who she really was, and it would have to stay that way.

They were now approaching another weekend, and as Rose had come to expect, John told her he'd like to spend the day with her again. What she hadn't expected was for him to say that his plans for the day were going to be a surprise.

A surprise. Rose had never been too keen on surprises, and she told him so. But he had responded, in that slightly smug way of his, that she would like this one.

Her mind was already turning over the possibilities in store while they drove southeast from the city, heading for the countryside on a bright Saturday afternoon. As they meandered over the green hills of Surrey, Rose wondered if he might be taking her riding. The idea thrilled her, as there was nothing she enjoyed more. But as they turned off the country lane and pulled down a stately private drive, she began to realize he had something far different in mind. Rose felt her pulse quicken. This was a private residence.

"Y-you're not…taking me to your place, are you?" she stammered. Was this it, then? Had he been playing the gentleman these past few weeks just to try to lure her in, only to get her alone at his place and attempt to seduce her? She should've paid even more careful heed to her mum's persistent warnings over the years.

John turned a small smile on her. "I thought it was time to bring you 'round to meet the family, so to speak."

Rose let out a breath. He had the quaint notion of wanting her to meet his family. Still the gentleman then, it would seem. But her relief was short-lived as irrational nervousness reared its head at the thought of this meeting. Irrational, because she shouldn't really care what his family or acquaintances might think of her. This whole thing with John was…well…nothing permanent, to be sure. But inexplicable nervousness flooded her just the same. "But you should've told me! I…I'm hardly prepared to meet them. I–"

"You're perfect," he countered, flicking his eyes over her in a way that made her breath momentarily catch. "And anyway, I think you'll like my adoptive dad. He's a good man. Down-to-earth, no nonsense, and a heart of gold. And, incidentally, don't breathe a word of that to him. It'll go to his head."

She smiled a little. "Like father like son in that way, then?"

He flashed her a cheeky grin.

Her attention was drawn to the stately manor as they rounded the circular cobblestone drive and came to a stop outside the front entrance. The home looked to be of the Victorian era, with its steep, lofty gables and grand entry porch, all of which stood as an imposing welcome for a girl from a council estate.

"Welcome to Gallifrey Manor," John announced, putting the sports car in park.

"Gallifrey Manor," Rose repeated, eyes still taking in the sight. "'S a pretty name. What does it mean?"

"Gallifrey?" He shrugged. "Well, I study language as one of my hobbies…"

"Naturally," she quipped. "I'll bet rocket science is another fun pastime."

"Oh, it is!" he enthused. She rolled her eyes in amusement. "Anyway, there's one language in particular – ancient and nearly extinct – that's always intrigued me. When I acquired this place it didn't have a title, which just wouldn't do. No title? Rubbish! Every proper English home needs a title…or so I'm told. So I chose a name from that particular language." She looked at him as he paused, his brows drawing together. "Gallifrey simply means…home."

Rose looked back to the sizable residence. "Well, whatever you call it, it's certainly…impressive."

He sounded nonchalant in reply. "Nah, just a place to hang your hat, really. If one wears a hat, that is. Never been a hat man myself, to be honest. They tend to do…unflattering things to one's hair. It's easy to see why they fell out of popularity as a predominate accessory. It's said the declining trend reached its peak in the late sixties, with university students wishing to distinguish themselves from their 'old-fashioned' elders. But actually, a revolt against the dreaded phenomenon known as 'Hat Hair' was undoubtedly the root cause. " She fought and failed to suppress a giggle. He frowned. "What?"

"Do you always natter on about everything?"

He wagged a reproving finger at her. "I do not natter. Every word that comes from my mouth is of the utmost importance."

"Even when it comes to hats and hair?"

"Especially when it comes to hats and hair."

It was such a simple thing, but Rose marveled at how natural their banter felt. There were times she became so at ease that she forgot she was playing a part. Forgot she was in the business of building funds for herself by lightening the load of others. Forgot she normally didn't trust being within ten feet of a man.

John slid out from behind the wheel and moved to her door, handing her out. They ascended a series of broad steps leading up to the front entry, where John unlatched the carved wooden doors and beckoned her inside.

A white-haired gentleman with soft slate eyes and a warm, open smile met them upon arrival into the entrance hall.

"Well now, it's about time!" the man greeted jovially. "I've been after this one to bring you 'round for weeks. Been curious, I have. I wanted to meet the woman who put that sparkle in his eye."

John actually seemed to blush at that.

The old man grinned, pointing playfully. "There, you see? That's it! That glimmer right there!"

John cleared his throat. "So much for formal introductions. Still, I suppose one of us should make the effort. Dad, this is Marion Stone. Marion, this is my father, Wilfred."

"How'd you do?" she greeted with a polite smile.

"Quite well now that you're here, sweetheart. This drafty old place is brighter already. Now then, I was just about to have a cuppa. Fancy one?"

Rose smiled again. "Yes, thank you. That sounds lovely."

She was a bit surprised by the man's informal nature. John was right about him being down-to-earth. Both of these men surprised her, actually. Neither one seemed to be the snobby, upper-class type despite their standing.

They entered the lounge off the main entry, tastefully arranged with plush divans and armchairs of woven jacquard. The color pallet throughout was warm and rich, with tones of maroon and gold predominating, lending the space an almost regal feel. Rose swallowed. Despite John's laid-back nature, she felt like she was in the home of a Lord.

Within the room, the young woman Rose knew to be John's sister-in-law was seated on the long central couch. Her silky charmeuse dress of deep cobalt – no doubt a designer French label – made Rose feel rather underdressed in her simple navy and white striped shift. Clothing differences aside, Rose still might've felt plain in comparison. The woman was a stunner, to be sure. She gave Rose an appraising, rather unimpressed look as they all entered. Yes, this was a bit more like the snobby upper class Rose would have expected to dwell here.

John introduced them as he indicated for Rose to take a seat beside him, both joining the young woman on the couch. "Marion, this is my sister-in-law, Reinette. She comes to visit me at work from time to time but I don't believe you two have actually met."

"Former sister-in-law," the woman inserted. "We're no longer shackled by titles, are we, John? There is no need for unnecessary formalities between us, certainly."

Rose kept her voice pleasant, offering a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Reinette gave a token smile in return. "Likewise. Yes, I believe I've seen you at TARDIS Corporation in recent weeks. You're on the cleaning staff, isn't that right?"

John opened his mouth to retort but Rose just shrugged, answering, "Close enough."

Wilfred took a seat across from them, motioning between the tea set and Reinette. "D'you mind, my dear?"

Reinette reached for the stout china teapot on the serving tray in front of them, wincing softly with the effort.

"Oh... I believe I sprained my wrist this morning whilst gardening. I really ought to leave that sort of thing to the hired professionals, but they don't seem to have my knack when it comes to the intricacies of tending the gardenias." She rubbed her wrist, blue eyes gazing at John imploringly. "John, you'll have to indulge me in one of your exquisite massages this evening." The blonde sighed euphorically, looking back to Rose. "He has a simply magical touch. I sometimes suffer from dreadful tension headaches when studying long hours, but John always knows just how to bring me relief with those skillful hands of his."

"It's called sub-occipital release," John clarified. "Nothing magical about it. A simple therapeutic technique anyone can learn with practice."

Reinette smiled slowly. "And as I've said, you can practice on me any time." She turned her eyes back on Rose. "For now, Marion dear, would you please pour the tea? I'm sure you don't mind that sort of thing."

Rose gave a simple nod. She was aware of the game the girl was playing – the pursued claim she was guarding – but Rose reminded herself it didn't really matter in the long run. It wasn't as if she herself was a true competitor for John's affections. He wouldn't even have her here if he knew who she really was…what she really was. "My pleasure."

"Reinette takes hers with a spot of lemon, isn't that right?" said John, earning a glare from the other woman.

"Now then, sweetheart," Wilfred began as Rose served the tea, either ignoring, or perhaps diverting from the tension in the room. "John tells me you like horses. That makes two of us, then. Do you get a chance to ride?"

"A little. I don't get the chance as often as I'd like, but what I lack in skill I make up for in passion." John's eyes cut to her, his seeming just a shade deeper. She cleared her throat from the distraction. "Riding has always been one of my favorite things."

"Good-o!" the older man said in approval. "I always say everyone should have a hobby that takes them outdoors. Nothing like it. Nothing at all. Just try to keep me in. Why, I could spend hours outside just trotting over the countryside. And at night all I need is a warm thermos and my telescope to set me to rights. Now John? You'll find he enjoys stargazing just as much as I do." Wilfred paused and cut his eyes the man in question. "If not more. But riding? Sorry to disappoint, but he's not much for it, I'm afraid."

"I was rather hoping to break that news gently," John cut in. "After I impressed her by showing her the stables."

Reinette made a subtle, disapproving sound into her teacup.

"Oh, come off it," Wilfred chuckled. "Trying to act like you brought her here to show off the horses, when you really brought her to show off me." Wilfred straightened an imaginary tie and winked at Rose. "Now that's done, you two run along and do what it is young people do when spring is in the air."

Wilfred grinned and made a shooing motion with his hands. Rose fidgeted uncomfortably. John choked on his tea.

-:-:-:-

John proceeded to show her around the stables, explaining that Wilfred, still full of vigor, wasn't just blustering when he said he still enjoyed riding, and he often invited friends up to join in the activity, occasionally even organizing sporting hunts within the informal society he'd dubbed the Silver Cloak.

As John gave Rose the tour, indulging her as she fawned over the horses, he seemed to take every opportunity to stand close or brush hands. He didn't take it beyond that, but even this was enough to intensify the unexplainable feelings stirred within her. Rose wasn't a stranger to feeling uneasy around men. With John, though, it was something…different.

When he looked at her, he had an unnerving way of making her feel like he was seeing past the façade of Marion Stone. Which was nonsense, really. Because if he could see past that he surely wouldn't have her anywhere near him. Still, there was something in his gaze. Something…stronger than she was used to. She didn't quite know how to react to that, but her instincts told her to run. Run while she could.

She was going to have to. She had to complete this job and go, and the sooner the better for everyone. She should have already had this done by now, relatively straightforward as it seemed. There had even been a couple of opportunities in the past few weeks where she might have been able to get her hands on the needed key. And yet…she had hesitated. She had never done that before. Completing a job had always come without second thoughts.

Until now she'd had relatively little trouble taking what she felt she needed in order to get a leg up in the word, telling herself that the Van Statten and Saxon types owed as much as a debt to humanity for leaving their dirty blotch on the world at large. But Dr. Smith – John – couldn't exactly be lumped in with that lot, could he?

He was different. She had seen that early on. He was different in a way that, though still indefinable, made her stomach tighten just thinking about. The more time Rose spent with him the more she realized she had to get away from here. She had to get away from this man who could throw her off kilter with a single look and make her question her way of life without even trying.

She had stayed too long, and whatever was compelling her to remain had to stop. It was time to go through with the reason she'd come here in the first place. Maybe there wouldn't even be that much for the taking, she told herself. Not enough to really matter to him. Just enough to get her mum something nice again, enough to prove her daughter was more than capable of taking care of her, and enough to hold Rose over until she found another job. And then John would be rid of her and everyone would be better off.

It was settled, then. She would take the first opportunity that presented itself to finish this and be gone.

John had now completed the tour of the stables, drawing her mind back to the present as he turned to face her inside the stable's broad, oak-framed doorway. He looked…anxious. Uncertain. Perhaps even vulnerable as his eyes flicked down to his trainers, toeing the hay-strewn plank flooring as he rubbed the base of his neck.

"Would…would you come up to spend next weekend with us? With…well…with me? You can have your pick of the horses to ride." His lips twitched upward. "And I'll be sure to have Reinette serve you tea." His expression sobered again. "I've loved having you here, and you're welcome to come as often as you'd like."

Rose fought against the waves of unease churning inside her, attempting instead to reply to him with a smile. "I…I'd love to," she agreed, knowing that by next weekend Marion Stone would likely be gone.

He smiled back, looking so genuinely happy that she didn't immediately register he was moving closer until it was too late. Before she could divert him with any sort of tact, he was leaning in and gently brushing his lips over hers in a soft, lingering caress.

He pulled back just a fraction, his warm breath whispering over her face. "Brilliant."

Her heart raced and her throat tightened. Yes, she had to get away.