Rose stepped out of the car, her sketch pad and charcoal pencils tucked in a bag slung over her shoulder, and surveyed her surroundings. They were about thirty minutes from the Estate, at one of the weekend getaway houses. Never before had Rose been asked into one of these sanctuaries of the Harkness family. There was a little stone cottage set in a grove of trees, with a small brook rambling nearby. It looked like a picture from a post card. "It's beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it." John beamed at her. "I haven't been out here in years. Never can seem to find the time to get away from the office, I'm always so busy."
"That's because it's not important to you," Rose said, helping him unload the picnic basket and other supplies that he had brought.
"What?"
"Time to get away, it's not important to you. If something is important to you, you make time for it." Rose started down the path to the cottage. "Take today for example."
"What about today?" John asked, trailing behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, Rose grinned. "Today is important to you so you made time for it."
"Ah, yes…" John tugged on his ear with a free hand. "Of course it is, very important."
"I think it's sweet that you wanted to do this." Rose stopped at the front door and waited for John to unlock the it. "You really are a big softy. But that's no surprise; I think I've always known you liked kids."
"Ah, yes, kids." John wasn't sure for a moment what she had meant. "Love kids, the more the merrier I always say. More than half of the charities we support are for children's causes. They are the future, as people say. And here we are." He stepped back and let Rose step inside first.
"Wow." Rose whistled as she looked around. "I can't believe that you don't come here more often. This is perfect." The whole place was only slightly larger than the two bedroom flat she and her dad shared over the garage. There was that homey feel to it; the walls were a soft coral color and furniture was older, with a battered, well-loved feel to it. You could feel the life, the memories within these walls. It was almost as if the house was alive. No one would ever guess that this place was owned by one of the richest families in Britain.
"I'm glad that you like it. It's been in the family for decades. Harkness Enterprises was founded here, around an old kitchen table, actually," John explained.
"You should put up a plaque." Rose smiled, catching her tongue between her teeth. "This place is a historical treasure."
"I really don't think anyone would really care." John blushed deeply. "So, the bedroom is this way." He pointed to a door off the lounge.
If anyone else had said that she would have sworn that it was a line. Or maybe it was a line. Since last night at the tennis courts, her perceptions of John had shifted. She pushed open the door he had indicated. "Well," Rose said, stepping over the threshold. "It's a bit dated, but it's a kid's room." There was a set of bunk beds and a single bed crammed into the small space. The walls were covered with faded, spaceship wallpaper.
"Jack, Donna and I shared this room when we were kids," John explained.
"All three of you in this tiny little space? I can't begin to imagine it." Rose opened the door to the closet.
"We hardly spent any time inside, Rose. Not when there were so many places to explore in the woods." John chuckled. "So do you think there's hope for this place?"
"How long do you have before Donna and Lee get to bring her home?" Rose asked. In the car on the way there John had told Rose that Donna and Lee were going to be adopting a little girl soon. And instead of taking her straight to the main house they had wanted to bring her here first, to help the bonding process. John was the only other person (besides the family attorney) who knew about the impending adoption and he had wanted to do something special for his new niece.
"About two months," John said, scratching his chin.
"That should be plenty of time. How old is she?" Rose picked at a seam of the wallpaper.
Screwing up his face as he tried to remember, John said, "Three, I think."
Rose nodded. "I'm not an expert on children by any means," she said tentatively. "But since the objective is not to overwhelm her right off the bat, I don't think she'd really need all that much for the room. If it were me, I'd take out all of the furniture except the single bed, strip the wallpaper and paint it in a soft purple or pink. Give her a few stuffed animals and some books. Let Donna handle the clothes."
"See, this is why I needed your opinion. I would have gone for the grand gesture." He laughed. "The dollhouse big enough for her to stand in, one of those electric mini cars and maybe a pony."
"You have plenty of time to spoil her, birthdays, Christmases, or sometimes just because. Start slow, Uncle John, and be yourself. I promise that she'll love you without the grand gestures." Rose smiled at him again.
"Maybe you could help me redecorate? I don't think I could strip all this by myself." John smiled back and gestured at the walls. His tone was light and teasing, almost seductive.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure that you would need me," Rose teased. "From what I hear you are a one man army, at least when it comes to business. I hear that there isn't anything The Doctor of free enterprise isn't able to handle."
John blushed slightly. "I don't do any of that on my own. There is always someone to help. Tales of my abilities in the boardroom are slightly exaggerated, Rose Tyler." His voice dropped an octave when he said her name. And it stirred something inside of her.
"And what about your abilities in other rooms, Doctor?" Rose's tongue poked out from between her teeth.
"What?" he squeaked. Before Rose could say anything, John's phone rang and whatever moment they had been having was broken. "Sorry," he said pulling out his mobile. "It's Christina, I have to take this." Rose nodded and John stepped out of the room.
When she was alone, Rose collapsed on one of the beds. What was she doing? Rose Tyler was flirting with a Harkness and he was flirting back. But it wasn't the Harkness she had always thought she wanted. No, the one she had spent the better part of her life fantasizing about was laid up in bed while she was out with his older brother.
A realization hit Rose. John was on the phone in the other room with Jack's fiancé. Oh God, what would he say to Christina? Would he say something about her to Christina? But more importantly, what, if anything, did Rose want him to say?
A few hours later, John was stretched out on a blanket on a hill, overlooking the cottage. He popped a few grapes from the picnic lunch into his mouth and stared at Rose. She had her sketch pad open on her knees, the wind gently blowing her hair.
"Tell me about Paris?" he asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
"What do you want to know?" She turned towards him and turned the page in her sketch book. Her fingers moved across the page as she started a new picture.
"Tell me everything. It seems to have done you a world of good. Not that you weren't wonderful before. You just seem more confident and self-assured now. I like it."
Rose laughed. "I guess you could say that I found myself in Paris."
"How so?" John took a sip of wine from his glass.
Biting her lip in contemplation, Rose looked up to meet his gaze. "There were no real expectations on me there. I wasn't just the chauffeur's daughter, or the girl afraid of her own shadow. To most people I knew I was just Rose, the girl who would spend almost every minute of her free time painting, sketching, going for long, rambling walks or staring at the works of the Masters in a museum. It was very freeing and it allowed me to see myself outside of the box I felt forced into."
"Sounds like it," John agreed and he sank back onto the blanket.
"I think it would be good for you," she said softly. He shot up into a sitting positing and Rose smirked. "I mean, it doesn't have to be Paris. You could go just about anywhere, New York, Kyoto, Rome. The where doesn't really matter, it's what you do with your time once you get there."
"And what does the magnificent Rose Tyler suggest I do once I get to wherever it is I find myself?" John sat up and moved to sit next her.
"Ah, that's the thing, John. It's not about me or anyone else. That time in the city of your choosing is completely about you. The only person who has any say so in what you do is you." Rose studied him thoughtfully for another minute. "When was the last time that no one had any expectations of you?"
John blew out a long slow breath. "Blimey, I don't honestly remember. I think I was born with them, the heir apparent of the family company. Well, Donna and I both to some extent, but Father groomed me for the top spot since I could walk." He gave her a sad smile. "I think, sometimes, I envy Jack's ability to think only about what makes him happy. How rubbish is that? I'm always telling him to start thinking about others and here I am wishing I could be more like him or that I could have some of the things he has. I'm sure he'd laugh at me if he ever found out that nugget of information. Would probably never let me hear the end of it. Please don't tell him."
She giggled. "Your secret is safe with me." He seemed to be spilling a lot of secrets today. First Donna's adoption plans and now secret confessions. "I'm sure that there are plenty of things about your life that Jack is envious of."
John snorted loudly. "I highly doubt that."
"Do you remember when Jack was younger, ten, twelve, and he used to go into the office with your dad?"
"Yeah," he laughed. "Jack would sit behind Father's desk, sending memos and scheduling meetings. He seemed to really enjoy it. Then one day he just stopped coming. I never did find out why."
"Dad asked him, once, why he stopped going." Rose set her sketch pad down. "He said, 'John's there. What do they need me for?' I think Jack just hasn't found his place in life yet."
Once again, John tugged nervously at his ear. "Well, that may be true. I hope he finds it soon, though. Such wasted potential there... Anyway, what have you been working on?" He nodded to the sketch pad, trying to change the subject, and she handed it over.
"The last one's not ready to be shown to anyone yet. So stop when you get to the half-finished one of the cottage." Rose leaned over and fixed herself another glass of wine. Today had been much more enjoyable than she had hoped and thankfully, after their kiss last night, not the least bit awkward.
John flipped through the book slowly. "You really are very talented. Are you going to do this professionally? Set up a studio? Have big gallery shows?" he asked as he reached the sketch she had started of the cottage.
"I would hate being trapped in a studio. I was thinking, after a few weeks here, of setting off and traveling the world. There's so much to be inspired by out there. Figured I'd be a starving artist for a while, selling my paintings in small art shows or on the street. I don't need much to survive, just a warm place to sleep, food and art supplies."
"That lifestyle might come in handy since Jack's allowance has been cut down so low and his salary is dependent on actually coming into the office," John said in what was supposed to be an absent minded manner, but Rose caught the way he held his breath waiting for her reaction.
Rose made a noncommittal hum and wanted nothing more than to say, 'I'm capable of taking care of myself, John. Besides, I no longer think I'd want Jack with me. I had someone else in mind for a travel companion.' She shook her head, there was no way she could say those types of things to him, not yet at least.
Instead she said, "I'm sure that Jack wouldn't be the least bit interested in living that life." He let out a slow breath but still didn't relax.
It really did surprise her that she hadn't been thinking about Jack. After so many years of daydreaming, her thoughts had usually gone immediately in his direction. In fact, she had spent very little time thinking about Jack today and it had been wonderful. Her concentration had been focused on the man in front of her. John was so different from who she remembered. The John Harkness she thought she knew seemed to want nothing more out of life then to run the family company. This man seemed to want so much more out of life and he deserved every bit of happiness life afforded him.
"So," she said, standing up and brushing the crumbs off her trousers. "Fancy a long walk through the grounds?" She held out a hand and wiggled her fingers. "Because I would and it would be completely rude to let your lunch companion walk around this unfamiliar terrain on her own."
John scrambled to his feet and clasped her hand, entwining their fingers. "Ms. Tyler, I couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon. And I know just the spot I want to show you. There's a clearing at the top of the tallest hill. I used to stargaze there when I was a boy."
"It's only a few hours until it gets dark. Did you want to stay and watch the stars?" Rose asked.
"I think I would." John leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for coming here with me today, Rose. I honestly cannot remember the last time I had such a wonderful and relaxing day."
Rose grinned. "It could be the first of many."
John squeezed her hand and pulled her along the path. "I think I'd like that."
"Allons-y," Rose cried, allowing him to take the lead.
