Wow! I can't believe this fic has hit the double digits! Thanks so much for sticking with me this long, everyone! :) Slow and steady wins the race? Good luck, Doctor!

~OOO~

- Chapter 10 -

The Doctor left my room shortly after that, saying only that he'd give me some time to myself and that, when I felt ready, I could come find him...if I wanted. He disappeared without saying where, exactly, he was planning to go, but I figured it wouldn't take too much effort to locate him later on if I asked the TARDIS to help me.

I retrieved my tank top from the floor after the door closed, and pulled it back on with shaking hands, then I flopped back onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. I'd never felt so conflicted about anything in my entire life. I tugged one of my pillows out from under the duvet and curled around it, hugging it to my chest and sighing deeply. This was one of those times I wished I had a good girlfriend to ring up. Mickey was true mate, he'd certainly proved that during my last visit, but this just wasn't something I could discuss with him. And mum, well, we were close, but there are some things that a girl just can't talk to her parents about without dying of humiliation.

I wanted to both cry and smile, which made for a very messed up mindset. On the one hand, I felt completely embarrassed over the way I'd led the Doctor on, snogging him outside the TARDIS and then bringing him into my bedroom, bold as brass… But on the other hand, my heart felt light, protected, by the way he'd tried to make sure over and over again that I really wanted to do this…and the way he'd been so understanding when I'd all but had a panic attack on the bed. Still, a large part of me just wanted to hide in my room forever after this; I didn't know how I could ever look the Doctor in the eye again after being so intimate and then shying away.

The TARDIS gave me a mental nudge, and somehow, despite the ship being a machine, I felt a sense of reassurance, as if the TARDIS had taken physical form and given me a sisterly hug. I smiled weakly into my pillow, surprisingly feeling better.

After another few minutes I sat up, straightened my clothes, and went into the ensuite to wash my face and run a brush through my hair. I stared at my reflection for a long time, willing my cheeks to lessen their pink flush…which only caused me to recall what had caused their colour to begin with: strong hands, toned muscles, lips tracing a pattern over my skin…This train of thought only worsened the issue though, and I pressed a cold washcloth against my face with a groan.

When I felt almost presentable again, I cautiously emerged from my room; poking my head out into the hallway like gopher popping out of its hole. I wasn't sure what I would do if I saw the Doctor in the hall—I shouldn't have been thinking about pulling my head back inside and slamming the door, at any rate—but the way was devoid of any loitering Time Lords and I took a deep breath and stepped out into corridor.

The TARDIS nudged me helpfully as I walked, gently tugging my mind in the direction of the Doctor as I prowled the hallways. I felt on tenterhooks, scared to death to face him now. What would I say? What would he say? Why was this whole thing so damn complicated? The questions bounced around inside my head as I tiptoed down another twisting corridor and passed the doors to the Library. The TARDIS guided me past it without pause though, and I continued on. Eventually I found myself back in the console room—the one place I had been trying to avoid, as there was a larger chance that I'd run into the Doctor there, and I was still trying to pull myself together.

I'd just crept up the grated ramp, peered around the Central Beacon and found the room vacant, when a sound came from the far side of the room. My head swiveled toward the TARDIS' doors just in time to see one open and the Doctor stick his head inside. He scanned the room a little blankly for a moment, as if looking for something he couldn't quite find, and then his eyes fell on me and he beamed. The grin lit up his entire face, his brown eyes dancing, and for a moment he just stared at me.

I hovered by the console for a drawn-out minute, playing with the hem of my tank top and trying to make myself look him in the eye. During one of the cautious flickers of my eyes to his, I caught the softening of his expression from excitement to tenderness, and I took a hesitant step toward him. The Doctor sobered slightly, still smiling, but now more in the encouraging sort of manner one might use to coax a skittish cat out from under the bed. He slowly raised his arm and held his hand out to me.

I took another small step toward him, feeling my heart beating hard again, and had to pause and take a deep breath to calm myself down. This was just the Doctor, I reminded myself, not a monster or terrifying alien that I'd encountered on some random planet. Never mind his own background, the man before me was simply that: a man.

My Doctor.

So why was I so nervous around him all of the sudden?

He'd been the most kind, understanding, and noble man a girl could ask for in a situation like this one…acting like I was afraid of him was doing him a discourtesy. I fought for normalcy and forced a small smile onto my lips.

I took another step, almost to him now, and then another.

The Doctor waited patiently, still halfway outside the TARDIS, until I reached him. When I raised my hand to take his, I was relieved that it only trembled faintly. The Doctor curled his long fingers carefully around mine, leading me from the TARDIS, but when the door swung closed behind me I pulled up short.

"Doctor?"

He said nothing, just let me observe as he stood silently next to me, simply holding my hand.

The suns had set and the twin moons of Leonenshie had risen in opposite sides of the sky. They were very close the planet's surface and as such appeared rather large in proportion to what I was used to—about triple the size of a rising moon just off the horizon on Earth. They glowed with a silvery sheen, and their soft lighting had a soothing effect on the rest of the landscape. Every blade of silver-gold grass and all the leaves in the trees glowed softly, as though tipped in metal. The sky between the moons overhead was crammed with stars, such a sight as you could only glimpse if you were in the London countryside, away from the leeching city lights.

So many stars…I felt like I could leap into the air and crash into the midst of them, scattering their light like a handful of glitter.

There was a gentle breeze then, a little cooler than when we'd been outside earlier, and I shivered, sliding my hand out of the Doctor's to wrap my arms around my stomach. The movement pulled my attention down to the ground, and it was then that I saw the blanket stretched out across the gently waving grass, silver in the moonlight. It was weighted down on all four corners with stones, and off to one side was a dusty, unmarked, bottle and two glasses.

I turned toward the Doctor then, eyes wide, unable to speak, and found him watching me. He'd stopped smiling now, and his serious eyes held a flicker of uncertainty. The longer I stared at him without speaking, the more uncomfortable he seemed. The wind blew past again and I dropped my eyes, a shiver rocking through my body. And then, all at once, I was enveloped in warmth.

A muted fwumph sounded, and I realized that the Doctor had retrieved his suit jacket and draped it around my shoulders. My hands came up automatically to clutch at the lapels so that it wouldn't slide off, and my head came up with them.

"What is all this?" I finally asked, grateful that speech had been returned to me, and the Doctor lifted a hand to rub at the back of his head.

"Er…would it sound very odd if I said it was a…well…" He rubbed at the back of his head some more, looking nervous, and I frowned up at him, confused.

"A what?"

"A…well…a date?" He finished the sentence all in a rush, looking quickly to my face to see my reaction.

My mouth dropped open in a silent 'O' of astonishment. I blinked at him in the silvery night. "A date?" I parroted, surprise coloring my tone.

The Doctor pursed his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking highly concerned that I wasn't getting the point. "Yes, a date, Rose Tyler. The traditional way a male and a female spend time together, properly, getting to know each other."

I turned all the way to face him now. "A date?" I said again, almost incredulously, trying to wrap my head around the concept. We'd never been the type for traditional anything, not when it came to the Doctor and my relationship.

Dating.

Me and the Doctor.

It felt strange.

The Doctor frowned, brows knitting together as he turned to face me as well. This was obviously not going the way he'd hoped. "I realized that we've been going about this whole thing backwards, what with the mad rows first, then the declarations, then the…er…—well, you know what I mean." He looked a little flustered and yanked his hands out of his pockets again to fiddle absently with his jacket, only to realize it was around my shoulders. His arms flapped a bit awkwardly for a few seconds before he dropped them down to his sides and clenched his fingers into fists, attempting nonchalance.

I chose not to bring up the fact that there had been only one proper declaration so far, seeing as he looked so earnest. He went on.

"Anyway, I realized that we'd—that is, I'd—been going about this all wrong. Life can't always be excitement and danger and fleeing death and jumping from one adventure to the next without pausing for breath, can it, Rose?" He turned back to me, and I saw one of his hands twitch, as if he'd been about to reach for me but had forced himself to remain still. He didn't wait for me to reply though, pressing on after only a moment. "You showed me that certain things, important things," and his eyes seemed to look right through me as he spoke, "need to be done slowly."

"C-certain things?" I echoed, and the crooked smile I loved so much unfurled across the Doctor's face.

"Courtship, Rose Tyler. Dating. Wooing, if you will."

My heart skipped a beat. "C-courtship?" My fingers clenched around the suit jacket. Did he have any idea what sort of end goal that word entailed?

The Doctor lifted a hand slowly then, being careful not to startle me, and gently pried one of my hands away from his coat, lacing my fingers in his. "I realized this afternoon that I had been selfish, Rose, thinking only of the way I'd always lived my life. Racing here and there, seeking adventure and excitement, taking pleasure as I found it… I didn't stop to think about the different way your mind works. I've always been so awed at the way humans process emotions, so many levels and variations, so passionate and expressive! But I never stopped to consider the fragility of human emotion, and for that I have no excuse." He paused to bring his other hand up, hovering a few inches from my face in a way that proclaimed his anxiousness. Then he gently cupped my cheek. "So in short, yes, courtship, Rose Tyler. Starting properly, at the beginning, and taking the slow route." Another pause, this one more apprehensive than the last. "That is, if it's alright with you."

He dropped his hand from my face and waited, clearly striving to look calm and indifferent to my response, but I'd felt the smallest tremble when he'd touched my cheek just now, and I could see how nervous he was. "It's not chips," he mumbled, clearly unable to stand the silence as I processed his words, "but I thought maybe you'd like it—"

I felt a slow smile stretch my lips at that remark, and "He remembered! Our first date! Even though I only made that comment once, and it had been a bit off-hand at the time…" flashed through my mind. Also the fact that I didn't need to be "wooed", I was already completely in love with him. But then it occurred to me that maybe…maybe this was what he needed; the way the Doctor could come to terms with our unconventional relationship and perhaps allow himself to fully commit to it.

I tightened my fingers in his, ducking my head a little and feeling absurdly shy. "I…I'd like that."

I glanced up through my lashes to catch his reaction and saw the brilliant grin that split the Doctor's face at my words. His hand gripped mine briefly, then he led me over to the blanket and sort of stood next to it, looking as if he wasn't sure exactly what to do now he'd gotten my consent to try this experiment.

"Um, should we sit down?" I offered, trying to diffuse the sudden tension in the air.

"Yes. Right. Sitting…" the Doctor said a little stiltedly, and he released my hand so we could both arrange ourselves on the blanket (an old plaid throw which I'd never seen before). The Doctor stretched out his long legs in front him and I drew my knees up to my chest, pulling his suit jacket tighter around my shoulders against the chill. The Doctor didn't seem to be affected by the weather. In fact, I'd never really noticed him get 'hot' or 'cold'. He wore that long coat now and again, but even when I was bundled up in a parka in the winter, or sweating from the lava flow of a volcano on the fourth moon of a planet in a galaxy three billion light years from Earth, he never so much as commented on the weather, aside from explaining how unusual and/or fascinating it was. Except when it snowed; he seemed to take an irrational delight with snow. For a long minute we simply sat there in silence, then the Doctor spoke again.

"I'm not…er…very adept at this sort of thing, Rose Tyler," he admitted after a pause, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. The wind tossed my hair around my shoulders and I reached up to push an errant strand out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.

"That's ok," I said quietly, trying to sooth the awkwardness that seemed to cover us like a shroud. "I'm not either."

And I wasn't. I'd had approximately two boyfriends in my life before the Doctor: Jimmy Stone had gone about as badly as one might think—what with dropping out of school for him and then getting the brush off and all, and Mickey…well, it still hurt my heart a little to think about how that had ended. Mickey was one of the good ones. But the point was that I didn't have a lot of experience. I might have thought the Doctor would have, considering how long he'd lived, and it wasn't as though I wasn't aware of his previous companions…or the fact that he'd been married once, but looking over at him, leaning back on his arms and staring up at the sky, body rigid with uneasiness, it was clear to me that we were in the same boat.

I plucked at a thread on the blanket with one hand, watching the twin moons, until the sounds of clinking glass came from off to my left and I turned my head to see what the Doctor was up to. He'd picked up the deep blue bottle and one of the champagne flutes and was holding them out in front of his chest as if unsure how to proceed.

"Would you care for a drink?" the Doctor offered, and I almost giggled at the formal tone his voice had taken. I swallowed my awkward laughter though, and gave him a little smile and polite nod.

"Sure. Thanks."

The Doctor set the glass down between us where it bobbed awkwardly on the uneven surface before tipping over onto the blanket. The Doctor didn't notice though, he was too preoccupied with opening the bottle. I turned toward him now, angling my knees to face him and tucking my feet under me, and realized he'd produced the sonic from somewhere (I guessed he must have removed it from his jacket before putting it on me) and was squinting down at the cork with a frown on his face. I could almost hear the thoughts going on inside his mad head as he considered the bottle before him, and I had a bad feeling about how this scenario was going to play out if I left him to it much longer. In fact, I was about to offer to go back into the TARDIS and hunt down a proper corkscrew when the sonic glowed blue and let out a buzzzz—

POP!

FIZZZZZZ!

The cork shot off into the night and white foam overflowed from the bottle's neck and over the Doctor's hand. He let out a yelp of surprise and nearly dropped the bottle. I lunged forward to snatch the wayward glass he'd set aside away from his flailing limbs, and narrowly missed getting a champagne hair rinse as the Doctor swung the bottle back and forth in a panic.

"What? What?" the Doctor shouted, holding the frothing bottle with the tips of his fingers as the fizzing contents started to slow. He frowned deeply at it. "Rose, I think this bottle is broken."

I snorted, unable to hold back my laughter any more. "It's supposed to do that!"

The Doctor turned a half-chastened, half-wounded look on me. "People on Earth actually spend money on this booby-trapped drink? You barely get half a bottle when all's said and done!"

The tension eased after that. I could see the Doctor's expression settling into one of curiosity as I gently took the bottle from his hand and poured a bubbly glassful into the flute I'd rescued from the blanket. Setting it aside, I held out my hand for the second glass and he dutifully handed it over for me to fill. When I was finished I set the nearly-empty bottle (he'd been right about that part) down on the grass next to our blanket, and placed my glass next to it, frowning at my own hands.

"This stuff isn't half sticky!" I complained, shaking my fingers in the air as if by doing so I could rid them of the half-evaporated alcohol. The champagne, for all its troubles, smelled divine though, and I couldn't help bringing my hand to my nose to sniff at it. Gold-coloured liquid dripped off my hand and I brought a finger to my mouth to suck an errant drop off the tip—

—which was when I noticed the Doctor watching me—an odd look on his face. I flicked a confused glance between the Doctor's expression and my finger, frowning while I tried to figure out what he was giving me a look like that for, before my brain made a merry leap to connect the two points. Oh my god.

My eyes grew wide in mortification and my face flushed crimson. I dropped my hand hastily and quickly turned away.

"I—I need to wash up," I muttered, crawling forward toward the cliff and the pool at its top. I could hear scrabbling about behind me and knew the Doctor was following. We both dunked our hands into the water, inky black in the darkness, and scrubbed hastily at our fingers and palms. The water was freezing but it did the job. When I was finished with my hands, I paused to splash a little water onto my too-hot cheeks, attempting to lessen my horrific blush, before drying my hands on my jeans and crawling back to the blanket.

I couldn't look at the Doctor as I sat back down again, and I snatched my flute up to swig down half the contents, not caring if it was ladylike or not. Gasping a little as bubbles assailed my throat, I swallowed hard and shook my hair out of my face, attempting to look dignified. My head spun a little from my rapid drinking and I blinked hard, attempting to clear my vision. Somewhere to my left the Doctor had returned to his place too, and was rolling the stem of his glass between long fingers, studiously not looking at me.

Oh bugger, this was more awkward than my actual first date. And that was before the unintentional innuendos. I forced myself to break the silence this time.

"This is really good." I smiled, tipping my glass in the Doctor's direction with a little bob in the air. "Hard to get properly aged anything on a budget in London."

"Yes, well, the Benedictine Monks said that the 1531 was a prime year," the Doctor said, obviously striving for nonchalance, as he drew one leg up to his chest and wrapped an arm around it. He glanced at me then and I looked down at my glass again, taking another sip and nearly emptying my glass. The bubbles from the champagne burst in cool, sweet pops over my tongue, and I was starting to feel quite sad that half the bottle had exploded into useless fizz. "This is terribly awkward for you, isn't it?" he said after we'd lapsed into silence once again.

I looked over at the Doctor, his jacket sliding from my shoulders to land in a heap behind me. The wind blew past again, but I was feeling rather warm from the champagne by now and it didn't bother me. The Doctor had set his still nearly-full champagne flute off to the side and was regarding me with a suspiciously blank face.

"Why would you say that?" I replied, attempting to sound casual. He'd hit the nail right on the head of course, not that I wanted to admit that to him. Because this idea, "dating"…or "courting"…or whatever, it was so sweet, and I wanted that. I wanted the Doctor to pursue a relationship with me because he wanted to; not simply because I'd thrown myself at him too many times to avoid.

"This isn't easy for me either, Rose," he added. "I've never done this before. On Gallifrey the whole concept of traditional courtship, according to Earth protocols, is a foreign idea." He caught the look on my face at his words and added quickly, "Not that I'm against it. In fact, I'm rather fond of the idea. Two people have so much more time to get to know one another this way, without rushing into a union simply for the necessity of procreation."

His cheeks appeared to darken slightly as he finished speaking, and he retrieved his glass of champagne and drank deeply, as if steadying himself to continue the conversation.

I sat for a moment, considering his words, then asked, "How does it work? On Gallifrey, I mean."

The Doctor had been taking another swig of champagne and choked. "W-work?" he spluttered, coughing hard. "What, se—?" He cut the word off halfway through and I could practically feel the heat coming off his face as he coughed again, trying to catch his breath. "Er, much the same way as on Earth, I'd expect." He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "We do…er…have the same parts and all…"

For a few seconds I just blinked at him, properly gob-smacked. What was he going on about? Then it clicked, and I realized which part of his comment the Doctor had thought I'd been asking about. Horrified, I could only stare as the Doctor got himself under control, setting his glass down again and rubbing his chest. When he finally allowed his gaze to return to me, I mouthed wordlessly, much like a landed fish, before my brain finally ground back into gear.

"No!" I burst out when speech returned to me, frantically trying to think of some way to fix my faux pas. "I mean, I figured it worked the same way. That is, you seemed to know what you were doing…"

Oh God, somebody stop me. I was seriously considering attempting to drown myself in my champagne glass. Or throw myself over the cliff. The Doctor's expression shifted and he raised an eyebrow at me curiously. Abort! Abort!

"I…um… I—I meant this. Dating…c-courting… whatever. When you find someone you want be with, how do you…um…pursue…"

Please…for the love of all that's holy, just cut in already!

The Doctor's expression changed from shocked to confused to understanding, and he cleared his throat. "Oh. Right. Of course."

I downed the last of my glass in one go, my head spinning pleasantly now, and covered my face with my hands. This was officially a disaster.

"Welllll…" The familiar drawn-out word pulled me out of my pit of humiliation and back into the present. I peeked through my fingers and found the Doctor leaning back on his arms again, gaze on the sky. "Finding a mate, that is, a partner, isn't such a base-romantic process as it appears to be on Earth, at least as it's been during the last century or so. The closest comparison would probably be something akin to arranged marriage. Once a child reaches maturity, about age seventeen in your years, their parents begin to seek out a potential match. They consult the Elders, who, once several possible partners have been selected, contact the parents of the child—er, teenager I suppose you'd say, though we don't really have such terms on Gallifrey—and a meeting is arranged.

For example, a girl might be brought to the Meeting Hall with four possible matches waiting for her. She'd sit on a pillow in the middle of the empty room and one by one each boy would join her, sitting on the pillow opposite. She holds out her hands and he takes them, and they both wait to see if a Connection is made."

I cocked my head at the Doctor curiously. He'd made this whole speech to the stars, allowing me time to compose myself, and I found myself completely enthralled in the story. "What do you mean, 'a connection'?" I asked, confused. "Like, do they think they'll get along?"

The Doctor turned his head slightly to give me a lopsided grin. "One might say that," he allowed, "But strictly speaking, no. I meant a mental connection. Time Lords and Ladies are telepathic on a basic level, and the stronger the mental connection felt when meeting a future mate the more likely that union will be to produce psychically strong offspring."

I frowned at him. Offspring? "But they're so young!" I protested. "You're not telling me that your culture is one of those that has the girls popping out babies as soon as they're able, are you?"

Amusement flickered in the Doctor's eyes at that. "No, Rose Tyler, we have far more respect for our females than that. Babies don't come until much later. This meeting is simply preparation for the future."

"Oh." I found myself sitting up now, leaning toward him as he spoke. "Sorry."

He smiled slightly, and continued. "Each young man has been screened by the Elders as the best possible match for the girl," he recapped, "and she must sit with all of them, opening her mind to his and allowing him to see into her. The whole process is very…" He paused, seeming to search for the right word. "…intimate." he said at last, eyes back on the sky again.

I was barely breathing now, and I said nothing to this, not wanting to interrupt the Doctor's train of thought. After a few heartbeats he picked up the thread again.

"Imagine, Rose, allowing someone to see your innermost thoughts, all that you kept secret and hidden from the world. Your hopes, your dreams, your fears…your desires…" He seemed to stumble over that last word, but I stoically pretended not to notice. "You must allow your potential partner complete freedom into the darkest places of your mind, and if their mind is strong enough, if they mesh properly with you, then a Connection is made."

My heart was beating fast now. I couldn't imagine letting someone know all my secrets, maybe not even the Doctor. What could it be like, having all privacy stripped away, baring your naked soul to another person?

My thoughts must have shown on my face, lost in them as I was, and I jumped a little when I felt the Doctor's hand cover my own. He held my worried eyes with his and gave me a reassuring smile, eyes glittering in the night.

"It's not like that, Rose," he said quietly, and I pulled myself from of the horror of my imaginings to look at him.

"B-but…" I couldn't even form the words; I was too aghast. The Doctor ran his thumb over my fingers and the look on his face turned almost wistful.

"It's not invasive," he said, and his voice was serious, trying to get me to understand. "If the girl doesn't feel completely safe with the boy she's attempting a Connection with then it won't work. He'll be locked out. No one can access another person's mind on Gallifrey without their express permission. It's sort of a natural defense mechanism." he added soothingly. "I know what you're thinking, Rose Tyler, how you'd feel if someone just jumped in and started rifling through your every thought and memory like so much public property; and it's not like that. The process is controlled, and exceedingly gentle."

I swallowed hard, feeling myself trembling slightly as I thought about the Connection Ceremony. "What happens when she makes a connection?" I asked at last, a little breathless.

"When a Connection is made both parties feel it," the Doctor began again. "Here," and he gently brushed his fingers across my temple—my mind flew back to the Acuite Sanctuary, and the way he'd inspected my head there—"and here." He placed his palm over my heart. I could feel it start to trip along a little faster at his touch.

"So what happens after?" I whispered, barely breathing now, so afraid that I might shatter this fragile moment. "They're matched up, so then what?"

"I suppose…a little like…what we're doing now," the Doctor replied, his voice slightly uneven, and I began to suspect that he may be a little distracted. "They spend time together getting to know one another, chaperoned of course, until they reach adulthood at age twenty. After which the Binding Ceremony takes place and they are formally mated for life."

I wanted to ask him what the Binding Ceremony entailed, but I couldn't get the words out. I was trapped in his dark eyes, my chest rising and falling rhythmically under the Doctor's hand. He seemed to be lost in the moment too, and I barely noticed his other arm come up and slid around me as he eased me down onto the blanket.

The grass was thick, and made a decent cushion beneath the flannel blanket under my back. The Doctor leaned over me, eyes distant, mind caught in a web of memory, and for an eternal moment we just stayed that way, me staring up into the Doctor's eyes, him gazing down at me…his head slowly lowering toward mine…

"That's pretty…" I mumbled, quite without meaning to, and the Doctor blinked, pulling up short only inches from my face.

"Er, what is?" he asked, brow wrinkling in confusion, and I garnered he was under the impression I'd been talking about him. I hurried to explain.

"The stars, Doctor," I gestured vaguely with one hand, finding my arm surprisingly difficult to lift off the blanket; when had my body become so heavy? "They're spinning in the sky. It's beautiful…" My words trailed off in a bit of a slur as I stared at the pinwheels of silver cartwheeling across the sky beyond the Doctor's head. The ground, oddly, felt a bit like it was spinning too, and I was found that I was relieved to already be lying down. My eyes drifted closed for a moment…

…and I heard the Doctor mutter something unintelligible, though undoubtedly profane, under his breath. Seconds later his arms were sliding around me again, though this time one went around my back and the other under my knees. Moments later he grunted, pulling my strangely uncoordinated body against his chest as he rose to his feet. My head lolled against the Doctor's shoulder as he turned back toward the TARDIS, and I mumbled "Where…we…going?", my voice coming out strangely thick.

The Doctor crossed the grass in a few long strides and awkwardly snapped his fingers at the doors, which sprang open before us. As he carried me inside, his muttered words floated through the haze that clouded my consciousness. "…should have realized…potent…what was I thinking? …over four hundred years old…naturally…couldn't handle it…"

I must have faded out for a minute, because the next then I was aware of was being laid down on something quite a bit softer than the grass had been. Oh, I was on my bed. Why was I on my bed?

I struggled to keep my eyes open as the Doctor gently eased my head off his arm and onto my pillow, it lolled sideways and I blinked hard, trying to focus on the Doctor's blurring face. I caught his hand quite by chance, flailing my arm blindly through the air, and clamped my fingers around his wrist. I was starting to feel scared.

"Doctor," I slurred again, panic lacing my voice now. Why was the room tilting like that? "What's going on?" My voice hitched as fear overrode confusion. I felt tears sting my eyes as I tried to sit up again and flopped back onto my pillows like a rag doll. "Doctor!"

My bed creaked a little as the Doctor sat beside me, catching my wrists and gently pushing my hands back down onto my stomach. He looked terrible, face flushed, hair sticking up. My heart beat even faster. I'd just opened my mouth to beg him again for an explanation when he spoke. "Calm down, Rose Tyler, you're quite alright. At least, you will be…once you sleep it off…" He muttered the last bit under his breath and I frowned up at him.

"What…are you…talking about?" I demanded, frustrated that getting that single sentence out had taken so much concentration. The Doctor's expression became somewhat guilty.

"The…er…champagne…" he started, shoving a hand through his hair and looking utterly wretched. "You remember how I mentioned the Benedictine Monks? Well, the bottle we drank from was one of the first ever made by them…in 1531, as I said."

I stared confusedly up at the Doctor, suddenly feeling extremely warm and wanting to either drink a huge glass of water or employ a personal army of fan-carriers. I pulled at my top, trying to cool down. "…'s hot, Doctor…"

He frowned, catching my hands again as I started tugging up the hem of my tank top, and folding his fingers around them to make me stop trying to remove my clothing. "Stop that, Rose." I pouted up at him and he sighed heavily. "The fact of the matter is, Rose Tyler, that bottle of champagne was over 400 years old, and, as such, the alcohol concentration was extremely potent, a fact which I was remiss to neglect when giving it to a human to consume. Most forms of alcohol cycle out of my system so quickly I barely feel them, and so I mistakenly forgot to warn you and…well…"

My eyelids fluttered. I suddenly felt very sleepy. "You got me drunk." I tried to say in an accusing tone, meaning to tease him, but my brain was already well on its way to dreamland and all that came out was a garbled mumble.

I felt the Doctor release my hands and gently stroke my cheek and forehead with the back of his hand. His cool fingers felt good against my overheated skin and I mumbled my incoherent appreciation.

"I'm leaving you water next to your bed," I heard him say, though my eyelids were now firmly closed. "Drink all of it when you wake up."

"Hmmm…" I agreed; sleep pulling me under into oblivion like sliding beneath the surface of a lake. Silence pressed in on all sides.

"This has got to be the worst second 'first date' in the history of time…" I thought I heard the Doctor mutter petulantly as his footsteps receded toward my bedroom door.

I wanted to disagree, to contradict him and tell him that, despite all the awkward moments, I'd had fun tonight. I'd been really interested in the manner in which Gallifreyans found life partners and had so many more questions about how his life had worked while living there. I wanted to tell him that he'd been wonderful, and I was so grateful that he'd tried so hard to make me feel at ease around him again, after that humiliating bedroom seduction-gone-wrong. But sleep had me in its warm embrace, and I couldn't find my way back to consciousness.

~OOO~

Poor Doctor, did you mess it up again? And you worked so hard to make the whole night special! *shakes head sadly* Guess you'll have to work harder next time! *wants to sit and look at the stars with the Doctor herself*

Reviewer thank-you time! It's like Christmas every day that I see a "New Story Review" e-mail pop up…you do that, dear readers, remember that. You're responsible for my happiness. And the happier I am, the more I write! ;)

OpalKitty – Ah yes….it was rather "hard" for the Doctor to be as noble as he was, but he is a true gentleman, difficult as it may be at times. But don't worry; this was just a prelude for events to come… ;)

Inu-Twins – Thanks! I'm glad you liked the planet. I'd kind of like to visit there, too! ;)

EmeraldEyedDreamer – So happy to see you again! :) Your review really made me laugh! I've been waiting for one like that. But it really is more fun to build the sexual tension, don't you think? ;) "I'm looking at you, Doctor Prude!" made my day! XD

P.S. Was that a sneaky throwback to chapter four that I spied in your review? ;)

EvilBeowulf98 – You ask and I deliver! Have another chapter! :) I'm really glad you like this story so far. I hope you stick around because there's so much more to come!