Chapter 6

Harold Saxon was having a bad day. He'd had the morning completely mapped out, from McCrimmon's humiliation and ultimate firing, to taking an early lunch to woo the elusive Rose Tyler. But thanks to the incompetent fools he was forced to work for none of it had gone according to plan. First those completely unimaginative prats in the briefing meeting refused to fall in line. Not only would they not transfer McCrimmon's case files to him but Mott refused to give him the Tyler girl's mobile number. Oh, he'd tried to access it through the hospital system, sighting emergency necessity – especially after Mott was waylaid in Scotland trying to clean up the mess that occurred when he thought it better to look at someone other than Saxon himself for the Chief Psychiatrist position – but Jacqueline Tyler herself managed to get in the way of that.

And before he could issue the papers that Jackie Tyler was unfit to make such a decision, Mott was back in London and not with his tail between his legs. No, he ended up bringing back someone even worse.

He was too nice, that was the problem. He'd been toeing the line, especially where Rose Tyler was concerned. New security protocols had been put into place on the electronic medical files and he was having no luck circumnavigating it and McCrimmon had rigged his door after an "unknown" break in the first week he was there. Damn exploding ink bomb ruined one of his favorite suits. And the interns and residents were utterly useless. Too afraid of losing their place in the run for permanent positions to step out of line.

Lightening flashed outside the window, illuminating the computer screens. No, he'd have to take matters into his own hands like he'd done in Scotland. He'd rushed a bit then, hadn't cleaned up like he should have, but now, now he had all the players in London and he wanted his prize. Pulling a mobile from his desk, he dialed a familiar number.

"It's Saxon. I need another favor and this time I need you to be subtle."

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Rose groaned as the kiss escalated. James' hands slid into her hair while hers drifted down to his (frankly magnificent) bum and squeezed. When she felt his erection bump her stomach, she pulled away with a sigh, burying her flushed face in his shoulder.

"Too much?" he whispered, kissing her hair while his hands rubbed circles over her back.

"Yeah, a little. You'll think I'm barmy, but it's been years since I've even snogged anyone.

Dropping one last kiss to her hair, James pulled away, grinning. "Well, you aren't out of practice, that's for sure."

Rose couldn't help but smile back. She loved his smiles, the bright happy one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his toes tap and the small shy ones that told her he was as unsure of himself as she was.

"How about you change into something more comfortable while I heat up the rest of this food and maybe add some popcorn and we just veg on the sofa."

"Mmmm, if you add chocolate then that's a plan. But what am I supposed to change into? Didn't exactly plan on stayin' over." A clap of thunder punctuated the statement and a deluge of rain crashed down obscuring the view from the window.

"I think I can find something. Come on." Twining their fingers, he trotted off down the hall.

"Doctor, I'm not sure I'll fit into a pair of your track bottoms…"

Smirking he pushed open the last door and flicked on the overhead lights. "I wouldn't worry if they turn out to be snug. I won't mind the view one bit, Rose Tyler." He waggled his brows before one dropped comically to match the drooping side of his smile. "Or is that your way of saying I'm too skinny? Have a cousin in Scotland that says I'm built like a stick."

It was the first time he'd let anything slip about his remaining family and Rose cherished it. And she wasn't about to call attention to it.

"No, you're fit. And you have a fantastic bum and I know you've caught me lookin', so don't fish."

Laughing, he moved to the wardrobe. "That I did. Give me a mo' and I'll show you where you can change."

If the rest of the apartment had been decorated by the mysterious ex, this room must have been re-done because it was pure James. It still had the spacious layout the rest of the flat had, with a door that Rose assumed led to an ensuite, but James had painted three of the walls a soft suede brown and the fourth wall with the bed a deep, rich crimson. Rather than traditional bookshelves, pallet boxes were stacked together and stained in shades of maroon and navy, secured to the walls with heavy bronzed hooks. At least a dozen climbed up and down the walls at odd angles, overloaded with books, brimming with papers and brick-a-brack.

The floor was littered with discarded oxfords and converses of various colors poked out from the mess.

"No hamper?"

James didn't bother to lift his head from the wardrobe. "If I went into your room right now, I'd bet you five quid it looks worse than this. Your Mum told me stories about trying to get you to clean up your room when you were little. Even tried to bribe you with a cat."

Groaning, Rose thumped her forehead on the door frame. "I'm goin' to have to talk with Mum about the stories she shares with you from now on."

Turning, he tugged on his ear. "I need to speak with you about that, actually. Here, you can get changed in the guest bathroom; it's the door opposite this one in the hall. I'm going to change and heat up our dinner."

Rose took the bundle and turned into the loo. Glancing longingly at the shower, she stripped and pulled on what the Doctor provided, a pair of loose boxers and a Glasgow football tee. Frowning at the rat's nest her hair had become, she inhaled deeply and tugged open the door. Butterflies turned in her stomach as she made her way back to the living room.

In the soft glow of the telly, her mind spun with a dozen different scenarios of how the night could go, from her running out of the flat into the rain, to falling into bed with the Doctor, to him giving her horrible news about her Mum. She paced the room, moving from coffee table to window and back, growing more agitated as the minutes ticked by.

"Rose!" James' called from the kitchen. "I can hear you worrying from in here. Stop chewing on your poor nails and relax, I promise you what I have to tell you is nothing bad and if you'd like, we can see your Mum as soon as tomorrow."

Frowning at the doorway, Rose pulled her thumbnail from her mouth and flopped onto the couch. The Doctor returned with a loaded tray that included a second bottle of wine and Rose reached for the ice filled glass and the already open bottle before he managed to get the tray on the table.

Arching a brow, James frowned. "I hope you're planning on following up that wine with some food."

"I am." She swallowed, draining her glass. "'S just you got my mind goin' a mile a minute an' now I can't focus on anythin'."

"Take a deep breath, Rose, alcohol isn't going to help with that. And don't give me that look, I'm a doctor and if you act like a patient I'm going to treat you like a patient. We really need to teach you some relaxation techniques."

Huffing out a breath, Rose set her glass down. "I learned 'em once, haven't used 'em in ages."

"Even I use them to keep my mind clear, especially when I'm sitting in a meeting with Harry Saxon. Now, grab something to eat and let's talk about your Mum." He waited until she loaded her plate and took a bite, chuckling quietly when she closed her eyes and groaned. She nudged his leg with her foot before he continued.

"Now, about your Mum. I'd been thinking about it and it was brought up – rather forcefully I might add – that my seeing you and treating Jackie might bring up some difficult to navigate issues. As I get to know more about you, I get to know more about Jackie and via versa and that's not fair to either of you. And I don't think I can completely separate myself when it comes to that knowledge."

Rose was quiet for a moment, poking at her lo mein noodles. "Does that mean you don't wanna see me anymore? Outside of meetin' about Mum, I mean."

"Nope," he replied, popping the "p" happily. "I plan on seeing as much of you as I can, Rose Tyler. That's why I want Dr. Jones to work with Jackie. She'll oversee the group therapies and one on one and I'll review and guide."

"I'd like to meet her, 'specially if she can handle Mum. Now what did ya mean about separatin' yourself from what ya know? I haven't told you all that much about me and what I did, Mum knows. Except that bit about Saxon and you promised not to tell!"

"I did promise and while I don't agree with it, I won't tell anyone. You'd be surprised at what you shared that Jackie doesn't know about. For example, your differing views on the time you left home at sixteen. As a doctor, I want to poke at it, draw it out from both of you, but I don't feel right. Same with knowing you don't pick up after yourself unless you have to. "

Tilting her head, Rose narrowed her eyes. "Like using one to treat the other."

"Yes! That's it exactly! I think it would do both of you a world of good but that's not up to me."

"You're right, it's not. But I do see your point. Dr. Mott used to complain that Mum and I would talk about everythin' and say nothin'. I guess that hasn't changed. Still, that's my business and I know your tryin' to help an' all…"

"Rose," he rested a hand on her knee, "I get it, I do. Sometimes it's difficult for me to blur the lines between just being me and being a doctor." He tugged his ear, "Could be why I have trouble making friends."

Smiling, Rose eyed the lime green and bright blue patterned pajama bottoms and yellow Beatles tee he was sporting. "Or it could be that keen fashion sense you were talking about."

Looking down at himself, he frowned. "What's wrong with what I have on?" I love this shirt!"

Chuckling, Rose shook her head and took another bite of Chinese. Between the thunder and rain pounding outside and the warm fuzziness the wine was lulling her into, she was beginning to relax, really relax for the first time since she'd gotten there. Dr. Mott discussed her anxiety issues with her almost every time she visited her Mum, but she'd always laughed him off. Maybe it was time to consider working on the problem a bit more. She doubted the Doctor would like her having a glass or three of wine every time they got together.

"So, I met Mr. Mickey, tell me a bit about your other friends? What do you do when you're not working?"

"I'm always working. Like I said the other day, I pick up as many shifts as I can so I almost never have a full day off. I thought about takin' another job but Henrick's aint' all that great at tellin' me ahead a time that they need me. When I do have a free minute, I'm visitin' Mum, payin' bills or cleanin' the flat."

"You used to paint." He made it a statement rather than a question.

"I did, I do. Even took some classes when times were good. I love photography, too. Takin' pictures and then tryin' to recapture those images on canvas. I haven't had time to pick up a brush or charcoals in years. I have had some time to take pictures, though. Nothin' special, but I have 'em."

"We need to find you time to paint again, Rose. I think that would go a long way to helping with your anxiety." He tugged on his ear. "That was doctor-y and rude wasn't it?"

Laughing, she tossed a fortune cookie at him. "A bit. But you don't sound much different from my friends. They just call me uptight. And I'd rather paint than party. I'm really borin'."

"Well, I find you a study in contradictions, Rose Tyler. And I present you a peace offering for being rude." He pulled out a chocolate bar and held it about his head. Tossing her place back on the coffee table, Rose lunged for it but his longer arms kept it just out of her reach. Out of options, she reached out and poked his stomach and was rewarded with a sucked in breath and wide eyes.

Freezing, Rose stared at James shocked face, a smirk quirking at her lips. He shook his head.

"No, Rose, really…"

"Too late!" Darting forward, she launched a tickle assault that ended with coffee table pushed two feet away from the sofa and pillows scattered over the floor. Rose triumphantly licked her fingers as she sat on the Doctor's stomach, the latter draped on the couch on his back.

"Happy now?"

"Yep."

Grabbing one of the pillows, he got comfortable and pulled Rose down to lay with him. They found a silly sci-fi film on and settled in.

Until Rose woke in the dark to James screaming.