A/N: Some T rated discussions. Just adults talking like adults and the occasional clothed extra curricular activities. Like falling down :)


"So, can you tell me? Just tell me what I need to hear?"

"I love you, Sarah Jane."

"I love you, too."


They'd said it. Neither had moved any closer. There was no mad rush to kiss. In fact, he was slipping from her grasp. And she was forced to admit he looked ill.

"I'm surprised we haven't been interrupted," she said, looking for something neutral to say. "I expected the TARDIS to let us know that we'd arrived."

"The TARDIS is probably waiting," he grumbled. "As she knows I've been avoiding this...."

"Discussing everything?"

"And repressing..." he said fading off.

"Your sexuality?"

"You are entirely too good at this," he mumbled.

Was it complaint or praise? She couldn't be sure.

"I'm not," she objected. "I'm a mess right now. But it sounds like the TARDIS, in all her wisdom, is ahead of us. So, she's been waiting for us to get over this hurtle before letting us know we were back home?"

"I could tell we had arrived, though...." he said, the voice sounding odd. He took a full step away now.

She decided she wouldn't watch this slip away. Not now. "What's happening to you? What changed? I mean.... I KNOW what we just said. That changes things. But you seem so very hesitant now. Reluctant to even let me near you. Was it easier to kiss me, to touch me before you admitted how you felt?"

"Telling you... Hearing that you loved me, too..."

"It all got very real suddenly?" she said, gently, coming up behind him.

"Like standing next to Pandora's Box," he tried to joke, but his smile failed. "And the lid's just sprung. Everything's out now. Those things I had purposely locked away."

"It feels like that? That sort of uncontrollable, regrettable, 'I've made a horrid mistake' feeling?" she asked, sadly.

"For now, yes," he said with an equivocating wag of his head. "You manage these feelings all the time," he tried to explain as she backed away. "There is no sense of adjustment. But, I have just been deluged. Suddenly, I see every interaction in the context of a relationship. I feel all the turmoil, but I can't really deal with it. To admit we love each other... created expectations," he said not meeting her eyes. "It pins up a future. Infinite futures, spinning off. Presumptions, promises, hopes... calculations? Missteps? Pain?" He sighed. "All of these ruminations must seem ridiculous to you."

"No," she tried to assure him as she paced in a tight circle around him. "And I know that things do not always work just because two people fall in love, Doctor." But her words did not seem to ease how he felt at all. She had to consider she had not found what plagued him.

It was not the potential longevity of the relationship (to think like him) that was bothering him, but the immediate mechanics.

"It was easier for you a few hours ago," she told him. "You were so brash. So charming," she said with a smile. She wrapped her arms around him from behind. But he felt so stiff and uneasy that she immediately released him. "It was easier when you were mucking about," she said with realization. "When you didn't have to worry that we... well, meant it all."

"The problem is, now that we are declared...." He paused. "No one talks like that do they?" he asked with narrowed eyes. His hand came up to push at his messy hair. "I've been repressing so much. Because it would have had to stay locked away if I had found that you couldn't love me back. And now, everything is loose. It is more than I can cope with. To think about you? To look at you? Is to know that you might let me touch you. Really touch you. That just got very real. And to touch you now. To kiss you now, would be only so much prelude in my mind." And she saw him shudder. He drew in a long, shaky breath. "I love you. But Pandora handed me a hundred things more. Anxiety, anticipation, and desire. A very real sense of desire..." he trailed off as if following those thoughts to a particular conclusion. She felt herself flush as his eyes lingered on her. Finally, he shook his head to clear it then and continued. "Worry over your expectations. All of the things you probably process constantly. Things you have gotten used to feeling over many years." He looked back at her finally, his eyes were confused.

"I'm sorry," she said. "So, you are making the effort to be the way you were. To stay detached. For now?"

"For the moment... this is not really the place or the time to have it all come unraveling. To have me unravel."

He shot her a worried glance then. He knew these machinations would be out of the ordinary for her. Would she reject him for them?

"It's all right," she assured him. "I just wish I could put you at ease," she told him. As difficult it was to navigate this minefield of emotions and intimacy with an ordinary human male, this was going to be far, far stranger. But still, she truly didn't mind. "So what do we do to make this easier?" she whispered as she reached a sympathetic hand around to touch his back. "What's the right way to do this?"

"I want to take you some place amazing," came his hush voice. "I want to know we have all the time... all the time in the universe." And I would push the hair from your neck and I would... he thought.

And she released him from her touch in case that was provoking him in some way. She had only meant to ask what would get them through this uncomfortable situation, but his mind was at that point of unraveling – thinking about the physical side of the relationship. He really could not compartmentalize this at all, she realized.

"We could try to make things feel less complicated somehow until you've adjusted better.... " he seemed to groan a bit at the idea of that effort. And so she said, "Or we could stop worrying about it, and you could just take me to bed."

He let up an undeniable groan in answer to that suggestion and rocked backwards on his heels as if vaguely undone. He closed his eyes and told her, "You are offering me notable extremes."

"Because I love you. Because I have spent what feels like a life time keeping this as uncomplicated as I could for the sake of your friendship. And I have wanted you in my bed nearly all that time."

"Tell me what you saw in your old room? What you thought about," he said, as he began to pace.

"That I would understand and trust how you felt for me. That I would know you. Your mind and your touch." And she paused. Not embarrassed, but feeling the gravity of discussing the physical aspect of it. "We were in bed then together. Not making love. But understanding that the affection, the desire, all of it was shared. Comfortable."

"That is what was important for you?"

"Yes. I needed to trust in how you felt. Believe in it. And in you. Know that you were sincere. And I know you love me now. Things have gotten easier for me. But you haven't told me what would help you," she prompted gently.

"Do you think me a hypocrite?" he asked with a humorless laugh. "Because of what I said before? Because now I'm the one who is acting as if ..." he said clearing his throat. "I am obsessed suddenly."

"No. You've made two impossible transitions. Mentally, you've accepted this type of relationship as part of your life again. That is change enough. And physically, you have let desire back in. And this, I would guess, is not that garden variety interest I may have sensed in you years ago, but an appetite you can't help but worry will alter you," she said, as she now paced. "But is it worse still? Because I'm here. Everything feels very expected, doesn't it? Charged. Imminent. Awkward."

"Oh, you are amazing," he said with nervous relief. Finally, he turned to look at her. She had nailed it, she knew. Given him the understanding he had needed. Expressed what he himself could not.

"Had you thought about us at all? Had you worked things out in your mind the way I had?" She thought this might be a gateway. That he would reveal what he hoped for, a picture of things she could use as a guide. With luck, she could make things easier for him.

"Yes. That I could have found you and you would have already trusted me. And forgiven me. That this emotional hurdle was already gone. Our meeting would have been wordless. Easy. Relaxed."

"Wordless, yes. I can understand wanting that," she said, as she closed the distance between them. Gently, she reached to touch the hair at his temple. "So, what did I do? Hmmm? In this idea of yours. How did I make it easy?"

"You smiled. Pulled me to you. I didn't need to say a thing," he said, as he turned his head to avoid her eyes.

"You want to be understood, without having to explain everything?"

He nodded in reply. "You kissed me. And your hands..."

"Yes?" she prompted. But he couldn't say it. So, cautiously, she stepped in and softly kissed him. She told him she loved him, and then she ran her hands over his face and into his hair. "Like this?" she whispered.

"No. The jacket," came his strained voice. His eyes were squeezed closed and his head hung awkwardly. "And I knew..."

"You knew I understood," she finished for him. "That you love me. That this is difficult for you. That I need to be patient." She kissed him again. Small, light kisses. Filled with reassurance and love and consolation. And she pushed her hands just inside the jacket like he had said. "You knew how attractive I found you. That you would not be rejected," she whispered, as her hands moved further under that heavy garment. She rested her lips against his while she gripped at his jumper with one hand. The other hand slipped low and under the hem to stroke his back through just his shirt.

It was not to her an overly sensual move.

But everything changed. It was like a trigger for him. She felt, as much as heard the groan that rose out of his chest. He kissed her with a sudden intensity. His hands eagerly began to mirror her touches.

It was like a flood of insanity then. A voice that said, "Go. Finally. Now." And never breaking the kiss, she pushed at the jacket until the oversized garment hit the floor behind him.

It hit the floor with a thud that seemed to rouse him.

His eyes flew open, and he stepped backwards, nearly tripping. "Not here. We have to stop," he managed. He bent stiffly to pick up his coat.

"You're right," she told him. She bit her thumb, needing a pacifier of sorts until she could talk. "I was trying to figure out what you were thinking. I thought it would help to talk about it. That I could reassure you... But I got carried away." And she surprised him then. She smiled broadly and finally laughed, as if with a secret shared between two good friends. "Apparently, I really like kissing you."

Watching her laugh at herself and at the situation broke the tension for him. He moved forward. Then he touched her lips as if to experience things with yet another sense. And slowly the corners of his mouth crept up.

"I love you," he said with childlike wonder.

"Mmm, me too," she said as she captured his hand. "So, we go home. Alright? We'll watch the telly," she told him. It was a game. Lies. False bravado. Denial they could share.

"One of those wildlife specials," he said. "I like those. That Attenborough fellow." He was smiling now, more with ease than nervousness. He shrugged back into the jacket and they walked for the control room.

///

"Well," he said scratching his head. "We are 'here.' I'm just not sure it's the here I meant."

He was leaning into the console, smiling at her. His attitude was as disarming as always. On the outside at least, he was managing this quite well.

"Oh, come on now. How hard could that have been for the TARDIS to just put us in my backyard.... with all those readings or measurements you took."

"Well, I wanted to test the TARDIS' intuitive circuitry. So, I only gave it a limited number of parameters."

"Like...."

"Rose Garden and well, that it would be basically capable of supporting life."

"Rose Garden? That's a little vague. So, for all you know, we've ended up at the White House. A pub in east London. There are two I know of in Edinburgh. Or a town in Baden Wurttemburg," she said in flawlessly accented German. But that Rose Garden would be spelled auf deutsch, obviously..."

He turned back to her slowly, his eyes narrowed in obvious curiosity.

"What?" she said, defensively. "My life got a little boring, I took German."

His face now said, Ha! And?!

"And I traveled a bit..." she admitted.

She rolled her eyes then at the suspicious look he was giving her. "And a Bavarian prince took me away to his castle," she said with a sarcastic flourish. "Every story is not going to end with me kissing someone!"

"Shall we find out where we are?" he asked with a grin.

She came up along side him in front of the TARDIS door and ceremoniously reached down to take his hand. "Are you sure you didn't do this to try to avoid the discussion we just had?"

"We are where we are.... in more ways than one," he told her sheepishly. He gave her hand a strong squeeze and triggered the doors to open.

...

The smell of the roses was over powering as they walked over the threshold. The lighting, they both noticed, seemed wrong somehow. The air too still.

"We aren't outside," she said, as she looked up. Far above them and stretching in every direction was a grey translucent surface.

"A green house," he decided. "The biggest one I've ever seen."

"Well, we aren't on Earth. Not in my time. She said examining the plants all around them. "These smell like roses. But they aren't any kind of rose I have ever seen."

"There are over 100 species of Earth roses... " he began.

"Oh, almost a 150," she told him with a withering glance. "But there are basic similarities on leaf structure. Only a few of these have the sharp-toothed oval to the leaves," she told him. He came over then and looked more closely at the plant she was indicating. "But there is a more obvious problem."

"What's that?" he asked, straightening. He then peered at her in that sweet, quizzical way that she was coming to know as this Doctor's 'look.'

"Some of these are the most horrid colors I have ever seen..." she complained.

"Oh. There's no accounting for taste." He paused. Considered her. "And how can you be so fastidious about roses? Demanding they look as you expect, when you are so forgiving about me? Changing?"

He was studying her now. Without wanting to get caught studying her. His head was cast down and his eyes looked up at her from under those expressive brows.

"Feeling insecure?" she whispered.

"Perhaps."

"Mmmm," she mused, as she touched at his sleeve. "More human by the minute... For the record, you are adorable. Your eyes are soulful. Your lips are incredibly kissable... And this is not the type of conversation you should be encouraging if we are to stay on track," she teased. "So what's the plan, Doctor? Do you want to poke around? Find out where we are, satisfy your curiosity? Or go home?" She was trying not to sound like a predator when saying that last bit. Really his unease over the increased tension had put her off as well.

She got no answer, other than a thoughtful, self-satisfied smile. Slowly then, he turned and continued walking further between the rows of plants. Why was it, the Doctor in all his various incarnations would be sure to tell her, 'Don't wander off!' and then he would be the one to do it?

"Doctor?!"

"This irrigation system is something quite special. You know I wonder if we will run into anyone at all... This looks like an example of tele-gardening as practiced on the moons of Damsia.

"Tele-gardening? So, remote gardening? Automated?"

"Some people call it iGardening," he said, distractedly, as he inspected a tube that hung from a rack.

" ' I' as in first person or as in, vision?" she asked.

"No 'I' as in... Never mind, just know that in your near future you will be encouraged to put a lower case 'i' in front of almost any word."

She tried not to think of all the recent words that had been plaguing her since they'd been dancing. She wasn't sure all of them warranted an i in front of them. iKissing? iDesire? ireallywanttogonow? This was not a helpful line of thought. And there was the fact that to her it was likely 2 am...

She looked up at the ceiling and thought about the slope of it. "Let's say we wanted out, so you could look around and satisfy your curiosity. The roof seems to slope in that direction, so if we walk off that way, we should find a wall ... sooner or later... and then hopefully, a door."

"Mmmm," he said with a smile. "I like the way you are thinking."

"Just trying to keep things moving," she said smiling, weakly. "I wouldn't mind figuring things out and then sitting down again. I need to sleep off that dancing."

His expression changed. Flickered, and his arm came around her briefly. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Or maybe the idea of a sleepy Sarah Jane was a relief as one that was not at all conducive to sexual thoughts. He took up her hand and they walked in the direction she had indicated.

That the green house door, when they found it, was one that slid open rather than one on a traditional hinge, made Sarah wonder. It did not make her wonder fast enough, however. Once the Doctor pushed open the door, the wind's roar was overwhelming. The effort of moving the door pitched him into the opening, and then the wind nearly sucked him out. It pulled his hat from his head, and he dropped his umbrella as he hurriedly latched onto the opening with both hands.

Sarah's first instinct had been to cover her ears, but she quickly reached for the Doctor. She got a hold of his silk scarf, only to have it come away in her hand. In her panic to better reach him, she tripped over the dropped umbrella and knocked him further outside.

Sarah had nothing but him to hang onto and the winds were beginning to pivot and pluck at her. She was moved further and further out the door, her feet scrabbling along under her. He knew he would lose her in another moment and so dropped one hand from the door to loop around her then.

With the other hand, he continued to grip the open door edge.

"Don't let go," she hollered.

He almost laughed. Did she mean of her? Of the door? Both?

But it didn't matter. He was quick to see it was pointless. She couldn't hang on to him much longer. While he could hang on to her and the door for at least a little longer, he couldn't pull them back in.

It made sense to make a choice while he had the strength to do so. "I have an idea!" he shouted. And he let go of the door.

They twisted and stutter stepped together, as they were drawn forcefully across meters of open space. Wrapping both arms around her, the Doctor finally stopped trying to stand and instead used his efforts to throw them to the ground.

He did what he could to take the force of their landing on himself, but it was jarring for the both of them nevertheless.

"That was the idea, Doctor?" she grumbled wearily, after a long, stunned silence.

"All right?" he shouted to her neck.

"Very, very awake.... suddenly," she had a strong grip on his jacket and was actively wrapping a leg around his. The last thing she was risking was the two of them being separated. "Do we try to crawl back to the green house?" she asked him.

"Oh. no. I thought we could just lie here."

"Stop fooling around, Doctor."

"I'm not," he protested. He even wiggled enough then that he could attempt to look her in the face, but she had her eyes clamped shut. He wanted to make sure he had her attention before he tried what he need to do. He said her name a few times, but she wouldn't open her eyes.

He didn't risk letting loose of her with a hand to get her to open her eyes. And he was sick of shouting. He decided to kiss her. He exerted a great deal of effort at it, but because of the wind, it was still more head butt and nose mash than anything else.

"What was that?" she demanded. Done wincing after the face-smacking kiss he'd levied against her, she stared at him, suddenly wide eyed. He was smiling. She didn't know if she should laugh then or be more worried.

Pleased that he had her full attention, he told her, "I need you to hold on. I'm going to move...." and he began to tip a bit. "The winds will die down in about...." he then said, and with a great deal of effort he rocked so that they flopped over. He was straining his neck to get a look at the sky. She was screaming as the momentum of rolling once quickly allowed the wind to continue flipping them like a tumbleweed in an old western.

"Four hours," he yelled.

"Don't do that again," she scolded. She had spread out her legs to stop them from rolling more and was now trying to creep their bodies into a line that would keep them from getting caught by the winds.

He understood what she was doing and began to help with their progress. After 10 minutes of struggling, they had their feet to the worst of the winds. She panted a bit and then sighed when the situation seemed to have improved.

"Four hours?" she grumbled against the skin below his ear.

He moved his head then so that his lips were directly at her ear, making her giggle and flinch with ticklishness briefly.

"Sorry," he said, sounding more amused than repentant. "Less than 4 hours now. Based on the position of the sun, we have about that much time until the winds begin to abate come evening. See, I know where we are now," he said, sounding inordinately pleased with himself. "CorpuGrow.... it's a moon..."

"CorpuGrow? Who the hell names a moon CorpuGrow?"

"Bortudians .... Corporate Growers...."

"4 hours?"

"Three and a half now."

"Pedant," she teased. "Oh, God. Just don't let go of me. Promise? I'm exhausted. I'm going to close my eyes. I might even fall asleep. Too bad we don't have that old scarf," she said buzzing his ear with her laugh. "We could have tied ourselves together."

"I won't let go," he assured her. And he hooked a leg around hers and worked to eliminate any space between them where the wind might get a foothold at pulling them apart. It was a lovely, intimate embrace, and they were both affected by it. Both slowly cataloging the feelings at the long juncture between their bodies. Where hands pressed against back. Where her face was now turned into his chest. Where hips and thighs even managed to work together.

Something told him his life couldn't help but be like this. That he would have finally told her how he felt. He would have finally gotten to hold her. Only to have 110 mile an hour winds buffet them on a rocky moon. She must have been thinking the same thing, he realized, because he heard her chuckle before she sighed and relaxed.

She awoke with a start having dreamed she was dangling from a coat hook. She was not far off, she realized. Something had a hold of her. Something other than the Doctor. They were being dragged by their clothing.

"Doctor?" she managed.

"We are being rescued, it seems." She doubted that. She didn't know how many times in their travels the early prognosis was 180 degrees off. "Robots, I should think. Like the ones that tend the green house and such."

Given the way they were being dragged along their sides and backs, they could not get a look at what had a hold of them, other than to know that some sort of long pincher arms had latched onto their coats and was pulling them smoothly along.

There was a mechanical whir from overhead. And a bit of extra light in the late afternoon gloom. And suddenly, they were pulled through a shed door.


A/N: Thanks for reading. I will beg that you let me know I am not alone here. I have sweated over this chapter far too long. And as I am straying from canon, going horribly AU, I know this is not how others would see this at all. But. Sigh. I tried. Forgive me, the hopeless romantic.