A/N John and Rose face the aftermath of the previous.

Chapter 9

Rose had agreed.

She hadn't been ecstatic about it, by any stretch. But she had agreed to at least give this…proposal a try. That was all John could ask. As he'd said, he wouldn't try to hold her to this down the road if she never came to want it. To want him. But she had agreed for now. That was a start. The woman in question was now settling into one of the upstairs guest rooms while John undertook the task of breaking the news to Wilfred. Reinette was out for the time being, which was just as well. That left just the two men seated alone in the downstairs study.

"You mean to say you intend to marry the girl?" Wilfred's surprised voice questioned. "And…now? So soon?"

John tugged at the lobe of his ear, nodding.

He didn't require the older man's approval in order to go through with this, but he hoped to have it just the same. Their relationship had always been a somewhat unconventional one, and for as long as John could remember he and his adoptive father had been more like close mates. Be that as it may, John sometimes had the feeling he was the one being looked up to by Wilfred, and the older man saw himself as small in comparison. John supposed that sort of regard came with having such a bloody high IQ. Which, John always thought, mattered little in the scheme of things. It was those like Wilfred who John saw as giants among the human race. In short, Wilfred's opinion was one John valued, so perhaps he just wanted to be assured that the step he was about to take was a sound one.

"She said yes," John confirmed, feeling an involuntary rush of relief at the admission despite the extenuating circumstances.

Wilfred leaned forward in contemplation, one hand scratching through his gray stubble. "I'm not gonna tell you that you shouldn't do this. You're certainly a grown man and you know your own mind. But I still feel like it's my job to…look out for you. Try at least. That's the job I signed on for, and a proud one to be sure. So if it's the advice of an old man you're looking for, mine would be to at least wait a bit until you know you're both sure. She's a lovely girl, this Marion – Rose – of yours. I'm already quite fond of her. Was from the first. But you two haven't known each other that long. What's the rush? You've both got years ahead of you yet. Plenty of time for that sort of thing."

The advice made sense, of course, but not all of the complicating factors were known. For Rose's sake, John wasn't going to jeopardize her by divulging damaging details. But he did have enough trust in Wilfred to tell more than he would to anyone else.

John puffed his cheeks and blew out slowly. "Thing is, Rose is in a very…difficult situation. She has no one and she's in a position where she needs someone. Very much. Waiting would only complicate matters, I'm afraid. I'll be in a position to offer her more support this way. More security. More…everything."

Wilfred frowned. "So you're marrying her to…help her?"

"Well…yes and no. I'm marrying her because I very much want to. And because I want to help her. It's…complicated."

Wilfred cracked a small smile. "When is it ever not with you, eh? So what's this trouble you speak of?" he asked. "I don't understand that bit."

John considered his response. "Like I said, it's complicated. But there are things in her past that have made life…difficult for her. There are things she needs help overcoming. That much is obvious."

"Why do you say that?"

Clearly, not everyone recognized that type of thing as readily as he did. "Because I can see the signs as if they were flashing in neon. The same signs that light up over my own head from time to time," he added in a lowered voice.

Wilfred's confusion softened to understanding. "Look, son, I know we've had this talk before, but at some point you've gotta just…let go of the past. Don't dwell on things you can't change."

"This isn't about me," John deflected, hoping to leave it at that. The subject was never a particularly comfortable one for either of them.

"Maybe it should be. Are you having those nightmares again? Those old dreams about…your family and the fire?"

A humorless laugh passed his lips. "To say I'm having them again would imply they at some point left. But I've learned to deal with my issues over the years – to move on as best I can and not let it direct my life. I'm not sure Rose has ever reached that point. I want to help her try. But it's not just that. I just…I want her in my life. I want to give her a commitment. I want to be there for her in a way that no one else ever has. I love her." The last was said with quiet conviction, and it surprised him how the truth of those three words seized his heart.

John knew he didn't have the greatest track record when it came to relationships. When he became involved with Joan, he had been living with that undercurrent of loneliness. Then she had come along and they had seemed like a logical match. But it all fell apart and slipped away from him. He didn't want this to slip away from him.

He knew Rose cared for him. He had felt it. There was definitely something there. This would all be pointless otherwise. With luck, they would build on that. It might take time but he had hope that it would come. She was wary of his motives and likely fearing some sort of revenge. He understood that. If he were in her place, why would someone he had wronged want to offer him anything favorable in return? He, too, would likely suspect there to be a catch. In addition, it seemed she had a hard time with trust as it was, and it didn't help that she apparently had only ever known the wrong sort of men. But he hoped to change all that, at least in time. It was a tall order, granted. But he'd never been one to shy away from the seemingly impossible.

Wilfred's gaze was intent, his tone earnest. "Tell me this, does she make you happy?"

A smile tugged at his lips, John's answering voice a throaty whisper. "Yeah."

"And do you make her happy?"

His smile faltered. "I'll spend my life trying."

"Then grab a hold of that happiness. If anyone deserves it, it's you."

-:-:-:-

The wedding was an informal frenzy that Rose could scarcely wrap her head around. There was no poufy meringue of a gown, no mile-long guest list, no pricey venue. It was to be a simple affair arranged in short order, held on the premises of Gallifrey Manor with a handful of Smith family acquaintances. Traditionally there would have been at least someone on Rose's side of the guest list as well. But this wasn't a traditional affair.

Rose didn't want her mum to know anything about this – about the life her daughter had been leading to bring her to this point. As far as Rose knew, John had not revealed the sordid details to anyone, but she could not hang all her hopes on his discretion and thus reveal her mum to him. Not to mention how utterly disapproving her mum would be of such an out-of-the-blue marriage. Jackie had a strong opinion about men in general. And this, Rose suspected, would not meet with her approval. And her mum's approval, after all, was all Rose had ever really wanted.

Fortunately Rose's work usually kept her away for months at a time, so her mum wouldn't suspect anything just yet. And one good thing about this happening so quickly was it gave John little time to focus on anything else; to dig for anything else. Rose didn't know how long she could keep John Smith and Jackie Tyler from knowing of each other's existence in her life, but she would hold out as long as possible.

Rose now stood in her upstairs guest room, gazing numbly at her bridal-attired reflection in the mirror. Today was the day, and it was nearly time. Her hair was done in a classic chignon, and she wore a simple but elegant cap sleeved ivory lace sheath. Her wedding dress. She was getting married. To John Smith. A man she had only known a relatively short amount of time. A man she had tried to steal from. A man she should have turned tail from the moment they met and those penetrating brown eyes of his had immediately thrown her off-kilter.

Despite his stated reasons, she still couldn't help but wonder if this was his form of retribution, binding her to the man she had wronged as a form of punishment for her crime. It was the sort of thing she wouldn't put past someone like Saxon or Van Statten. But John Smith? Despite her mind entertaining the repulsive possibility, she didn't actually think that was the case with him. No, as unbelievable as it was to her, he seemed to truly have some sort of…of feelings toward her as his motivation, and that was possibly worse. Worse, because she didn't know how to handle that.

She had started to feel…something toward him before all this, yes. She couldn't deny it. Perhaps she would call it a fledgling sense of friendship that had later caused her to feel guilt over what she had done. But whatever form of…of fondness might have developed, she had never intended to become entangled with a man in this way.

She had avoided this sort of thing rather well up until now and was doing perfectly fine. Now, though, there was no hope of avoidance. It was him or the police, as he had so frankly put it. Those were her only two options. Faced with such a choice, she had said yes. Now here she stood.

Oh, this incomprehensible man and his bloody sense of noble duty, thinking he had to save her from herself. Fine. If he truly wanted her he was about to get her…at least to a certain extent. But if he thought he would be getting a wife in the customary sense, he would soon find out differently.

Rose cast her eyes downward, her arms wrapping around herself in unconscious shielding as she gazed blankly at the floor. Such thoughts were not borne out of bitterness, despite the circumstances. It was simply a fact. Her gaze lifted again to look at her "blushing bride's" reflection. How was she supposed to be someone's wife with…all that it entailed? She could only hope John would honor his word of doing this on a sort of trial basis. She might not need to be concerned about that, though. Once he came to know her a bit more…personally, he would very likely end it himself.

Rose turned away from the mirror altogether. Sometimes she wished she could just be like everyone else, be able to feel the same as everyone else, be able to allow herself to simply feel…without unexplainable fears and hang-ups engulfing her. But this was who she was. And this was whom John Smith would soon wed, for better and most certainly for worse.

Reaching atop the dressing table for a sheet of embossed ivory paper, Rose read from what felt like a script. Her vows. She had chosen the simplest form to recite in order to recall it without difficulty when the time came. But could she mean it? That was another matter altogether.

Rose mentally stiffened her lip and squared her shoulders. Well, she couldn't say she'd never gotten herself tangled up in reckless plans before. She would just have to count this mad turn of events as another on a growing list. It wasn't like she was one to turn away from a challenge. She would bravely confront today, and then…well… She honestly didn't know how she would confront what would come after today, but one step at a time.

There was a soft knock on the door, bringing Rose out of her anxious reverie.

"Umm…come in," she called.

The door opened to reveal Wilfred on the other side. He stepped into the room, looking quite dapper in a dark charcoal suit and champagne tie, a warm smile lighting his aged face. "Oh, look at you. You look just like a proper angel, sweetheart."

Rose felt her face flush at the undeserved compliment. If he only knew. "Hardly. And I'm not really…done up in anything too fancy. I thought…y'know…just keep it simple. It's nothing much, really." As she spoke, her hands self-consciously smoothed down her dress.

He waved his hand, as if patently dismissing such a notion with a mere flick of his wrist. "Nonsense. Why, if I were a few decades younger, John just might have a competition on his hands," the old man teased, giving her a cheeky wink that made her blush deepen. "Not that I'd stand much of a chance, mind you," he went on. "He's properly smitten, he is. And that goes for the way I've seen you looking at him, too."

Rose cast about for a reply, not quite knowing what to say to that.

Wilfred's tone grew more serious as he stepped closer and reached out for her hand. "Have a seat with me a minute, eh?"

Rose took his hand and nodded, turning with him to sit on the chaise lounge across from the dressing table.

"You and me, we haven't really had much of a chance to chat, have we? Young people are always in such a hurry these days…," he trailed off. "Still, even though this is all a bit quick, I want you to know I'm glad he's found you. You're good for him. I can see that. But you should know that John…he…well, he's not quite like other people. I'm sure you've already seen that about him."

"He's…sort of different, yeah," Rose agreed, which was true. She had never known anyone quite like Dr. John Smith, even before he'd presented this frankly mad idea. For some reason she had the feeling Wilfred was alluding to something more, though.

"Oh, that he is," Wilfred chuckled. His gaze grew earnest. "He doesn't always realize just how much." He cleared his throat and lightened his tone. "That's the way with those genius types, eh? But if a life with him is what you intend to have, you should know there may be…unexpected things along the way. That's…well, it's just the sort of thing that comes with someone like him. But I can also tell you that whatever the whole barmy universe might throw your way, a man like that is still worth it."

Rose knit her brows together. She didn't quite understand everything he was trying to say, and Wilfred was a bit eccentric himself. But she supposed she got the gist of it – John was a good man, if unconventional. She could only hope so. She was about to put her very uncertain future in his hands.

"Now then!" Wilfred stood. Rose joined him, and he wrapped her hand around his arm, giving it a pat with the other. "I believe it's just about time for you to make your entrance and take a certain man's breath away. I know it goes a bit against tradition, but since there's no one else to do the honor I'd be proud to escort you."

Rose was unexpectedly touched by this, and the idea made her feel a little less lost in this whole thing. "I…yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

If Wilfred noticed her hand shaking, she hoped he'd just chalk it up to typical wedding day jitters.

-:-:-:-

The formal parlor was adorned with an elegant scattering of pink and white peonies in tall arrangements, forming the border of a makeshift aisle down the center of the room. The furniture had been removed to accommodate neat little rows of white folding chairs on either side of said aisle for the small gathering of guests.

John took his place to the right of the presiding minister, the only two currently standing at the front. Rose had not assigned anyone to serve as her bridal party, so he took none for himself as the groom. He stood there, nervously fidgeting with the lapels of his tux and subtly shifting from foot to foot in his matching black Chucks, still wondering if this was actually happening. Still wondering if Rose would actually go through with it. He glanced around at the handful of guests – Jackson and his wife Caroline, Sarah Jane and her son Luke, and Reinette – all occupying the front row. All but the latter were smiling warmly. He would have some difficult explaining to do if this all fell apart and Rose failed to appear.

A rush of adrenaline and relief flooded his system as Rose Tyler rounded the corner a moment later on the arm of Wilfred. His eyes were riveted to her as she approached, his whirling emotions going into overdrive. Was he doing the right thing? Was he absolutely mad? Would Rose come to love or utterly despise him?

Despite doing this to protect her from herself and the authorities, hoping he could help her turn her life around, he knew his feelings in the whole matter ran dangerously deeper. Dangerous, because so much was on the line when hearts were involved.

It was possible this whole thing surprised him as much as her. This, quite honestly, wasn't like him. He tended to shield himself – his heart. Much like Rose, he suspected. But that was also part of the pull. He understood and could relate to her, to a certain extent. There was a great deal he still didn't know about her past life and her inner conflicts. But he did know, or at least intuitively sensed, that beneath her guarded exterior was a heart that drew his.

He couldn't fully explain it. He couldn't really rationalize it. Love was often that way, he supposed. It didn't always follow logic or present a predictable outcome. As such, there were no guarantees. He had already learned that once. He couldn't be sure this wasn't going to be the biggest mistake he had ever made. He did know, however, that if he let this woman walk out of his life she would undoubtedly ruin hers. To say nothing of his own regret. Mad as this idea was, it was worth chancing. She was worth chancing.

Wilfred now handed her off with a smile and a peck on the cheek. Her emotions were unreadable, her face carefully neutral as Rose took her place beside her husband-to-be. This had all come together so quickly, and under the circumstances he had not expected Rose to plan the details. So when the minister was selected John had handled the particulars and stated a preference for a simple ceremony with minimal frills and fuss. He had, however, chosen a more personalized vow for himself. He was no Casanova and wasn't exactly adept when it came to romantic gestures, but he'd managed to piece together a few words that he could only hope Rose might take to heart.

Rose's eyes, that had only flicked to his a couple of times, now looked to the minister as the clergyman spoke. "We have come together today to witness the joining together of this man and this woman as they exchange their vows of marriage. I call upon them now to state their promise before this group: the pledges that will bind them together. John?"

John breathed deeply, taking Rose's hands in his. His eyes found hers, and her gaze finally fixed to him as he spoke with sincerity.

"I, John, take you, Rose, to be my wife, loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't, because the essence of who you are is a woman worthy of commitment. I'm eager for the chance to grow together, getting to know what we will become. I promise to be faithful to you through whatever life may bring us. I promise to care for you and I will try in every way to be a worthy husband. I will always be honest with you, patient, and forgiving, knowing I'm not above needing the same. And through it all, I promise to be a true and loyal friend to you." He paused, staring fixedly into her eyes. "I love you, Rose, for as long as we both shall live."

A crosscurrent of emotions swirled in her eyes, creating a churning of moisture on the verge of spilling over. Whether they be tears of joy or emotional conflict he wasn't sure.

"The ring, please," the minister prompted with a smile.

John produced the ring newly purchased for her. He lifted her hand and prepared to slide the gold band in place as he spoke the traditional binding words, words he could only hope would prove lasting. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Their joined hands trembled. John wasn't sure if he was the one shaking or if it was her, but he gave Rose's hand a squeeze of reassurance in either case.

"Rose?" she was then cued by the minister.

Even though Rose had agreed to this and had come this far, he still had doubts of whether she would actually complete this. So when she opened her mouth and began to speak, he felt a fraction of the tension ease. He hung on her every word, no matter how simple and unembellished.

"I, Rose, take you, John, to…to be my husband, to have from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."

The last was spoken on a rush, and he felt a brief constricting sensation in his chest, wondering if this would indeed be a temporary alliance between them. Within the vow, Rose had not pledged her love, John noted. In truth, he did not want it as any sort of expected platitude. He wanted to gain it, to earn it. And he could only hope he would.

"The ring, please," prompted the minister once again.

Expelling a shaky breath, Rose placed a matching gold band on John's finger, sliding it past his fourth knuckle with the weighted words, "With this ring, I…I thee wed."

"Inasmuch as you, Rose and John, have committed yourselves to one another with the exchanging of vows and by the giving and receiving of rings, I now pronounce that you are husband and wife." The minister smiled. "You may now kiss the bride."

Time itself seemed to slow as John's entire focus fell to Rose. The origins of her emotions were still unreadable, but her expression had noticeably tensed. Her tongue flicked across her lips and his eyes automatically traced the pink, moist path. Tenderly, hoping to reaffirm his words through actions, John lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, a chaste kiss that nonetheless made his stomach swoop.

He pulled back and looked in her eyes just as hers blinked wide open. In unison, both swallowed hard.

-:-:-:-

The reception, like the ceremony, had been short and sweet. The new couple was soon on their way to begin a South Seas honeymoon cruise, leaving behind no small amount of chatter. Everyone who knew John was talking. Talking about the marriage that had come out of the blue to the woman that no one knew anything about and who didn't even have a single family member or friend at the ceremony. The whole affair baffled some and incensed others.

Namely, Reinette.

She had disapproved of Rose from the start, but it went far beyond that now. As she watched the newlyweds depart from Gallifrey Manor, it seemed her plans of one day landing John as her own were now utterly dashed.

Or were they?

There was more to all this than was being let on, she just knew. There was something that just didn't add up. Who was Rose? Why such a hasty marriage? And why go this far with a woman when John had scarcely even looked twice at anyone since Joan? For the most part, he had certainly played the confirmed bachelor when it came to Reinette's own attempts.

These questions swirled about in the young woman's mind in the days following the wedding, and Reinette was determined to find answers. Soon after John and the new Mrs. Smith's departure, she set about doing just that.

Wilfred had stepped out one evening, the daft old man no doubt up the back hill with his telescope again, she thought derisively, and she was left with a clear path to do a bit of digging. Letting herself into John's downstairs study, she riffled through the stacks of papers on his desk. She had no idea what she was looking for, if anything, but it was a starting point. As it happened, she came upon something that raised even more questions.

In sifting through the various documents, she found a checklist of sorts for the wedding, tucked away in John's ledger and written in his distinctive swirling scrawl. Amongst the list of necessities to tend to before the wedding was one peculiarity:

Pay off Saxon.

Reinette had no idea what the entry meant, but she was going to make it her goal to find out.