Chapter Eleven—And Dancing
Friday afternoon the Doctor nervously paced back and forth in the console room of the TARDIS, running his hands through his hair. This wasn't like him, he thought, this nervousness. Uneasiness, yes, fear, yes, anger and even rage were common. After all he wasn't called the Oncoming Storm for nothing. He regularly experienced frustration, boredom, disgust at intentional stupidity, and angst and despondency when he thought about himself (and everything he had done). He was used to excitement and manic energy and even the occasional bout of happiness. But the feelings of desire he had for Rose, which to be totally honest had begun during his previous incarnation, were entirely unlike anything he had felt for centuries. And the accompanying nervousness he felt was so rare for him as to be almost an entirely new experience. In fact, the only times he remembered feeling nervous were those times he had invited her to travel with him.
What was it about Rose Tyler that created such unTime Lord-like emotions in him, he thought. Nervousness, desire, jealousy, and particularly longing were so rare in Time Lords they could even be considered nonexistent. But somehow he felt all of those things and more. And it was the more that scared him the most.
The past week had been both thrilling and terrifying. They had spent almost as much time together as when they were traveling, and done many of the same things as they would have, only in 21st century London rather than 51st century Barcelona or New New Earth. They took walks, they ate chips, they went to little shops and museums and even to a concert once. All things they had done before, but somehow it was different this time. And not just because of Rose's memory loss. No, it all seemed to have a greater significance about it, as if it somehow meant more. Probably because now it did mean more.
What was he doing, he thought to himself. If she didn't get her memory back, what was he going to do? Go domestic? Stay on Earth with her for the foreseeable future? Park the TARDIS somewhere and find a flat and a job? The thought both frightened and repelled him. But losing Rose again scared him even more. He wondered if Rose learning the truth about him now would be as much of a danger as it had been at first. He couldn't bear the thought of giving her up again.
Finally, taking a deep breath and gathering up his courage, he rang her mobile. She answered on the very first ring, as if she were waiting for his call.
"I'd like to take you to someplace special tonight," he said abruptly and without preamble and then added more tentatively, "Is that alright?"
"I'd love it," she said a little shyly, and in his mind he could clearly picture the smile she always had when she used that tone of voice.
"Wonderful. Brilliant," he said, knowing that her response had caused a goofy grin to spread across his face but not caring in the slightest. "I'll see you tonight, around 7:00."
The Doctor rang off, and Rose stared in front of her, unseeing, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Since meeting him they had spent part of every day together and had spoken on the phone until late into the night every night. He was literally the most extraordinary person she had ever met. He was brilliant, charming and funny, not to mention incredibly handsome and dead sexy. And despite only having known him a week, she thought she was falling in love with him.
And now he wanted to take her someplace special.
Special, special, special, she thought. What does that mean? Posh, she suddenly realized. He wanted to take her someplace posh. She grinned until she was struck by a wave of panic. She rushed to her small closet and stared at the contents. It was filled with jeans, jumpers, t-shirts and hoodies. She owned very few skirts and even fewer dresses, and those were more suitable for clubbing rather than going someplace posh.
What on Earth was she going to wear?
She finally remembered something she had purchased on impulse ages ago. It had been expensive, but she had found it on the clearance rack at Henrik's, and that, plus her employee discount, had made it affordable. She had even been able to find a pair of glittery, strappy heels to go with it. She had never worn it, had never gone anyplace where she could wear it in fact, but it would be perfect for this. She dug in the back of her closet until she found it. Hoping it still fit, she tried it on and surveyed herself in the mirror.
It was a short, sleeveless dress in royal blue with a surplice neckline, an empire waist and a pleated skirt. It was classy, it was sexy and it was perfect.
After taking it off again, she crawled back into her closet to find her shoes. Then she showered and dressed again, pulled her hair up into a chignon, and put on her makeup, using a lighter touch than normal.
"You look beautiful, Sweetheart," her mum said as Rose entered the living room to wait for the Doctor.
"Thanks, Mum," she replied.
"Rose…" her mother said, looking worried.
"What is it?" she asked when her mother didn't continue.
"Oh, nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Never mind. Just… have a nice time, alright?"
"Thanks," Rose answered.
Within minutes the Doctor arrived, and to Rose's surprise, he wasn't wearing his typical pinstripes. Instead, her heart sped up when she saw he was wearing a tuxedo. He was absolutely gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous, in fact. And she smiled when she saw he wore black Converse with it.
His eyes widened when he saw her. "Blimey, you look beautiful," he said.
"Thanks," she replied. "You look pretty good yourself."
"Shall we, Miss Tyler," he asked, offering his arm to her.
She took it and grinned at him. "Yes, I believe we shall," she said. "Bye, Mum," she called over her shoulder.
Unlike their trips downtown when they had used public transport, the Doctor had rented a car for the evening. Rose's eyes widened in surprise when he ran to open her door for her. No one had ever done that for her, although that could have been because on all her previous dates with Jimmy and Mickey they had taken the bus.
The restaurant he took her to wasn't far from Peckham, but it was so different from anything on the Powell Estate she thought it might as well have been on a different planet.
"Oh my God," she said, staring up at the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling in the lobby, "this place is amazing."
Grinning at her, the Doctor pulled what looked like a small billfold from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, flipped it open and showed it to the maître d', who immediately led them to a small, candlelit table in a secluded corner of the restaurant.
After they had been seated and the maître d' had left, Rose stared down at her place setting.
"I don't know how to do this," she said, amusement creeping into her voice. "There's like a half dozen forks here alone."
"Well, don't ask me," he replied, "I don't know how to, either. I usually just give up and eat with my fingers."
She laughed. "So, what do people usually order in a place like this?" she said, picking up her menu.
"Oh, that's the beauty of a place like this, Rose. You can order anything you want. I don't know about you, but I think," he said, looking over his own menu, "I'm gonna have the steak… with chips." He glanced at her and winked.
She grinned at him. "Sounds great."
"Steak and chips for two it is!"
Later, after a delicious dinner, Rose watched as the Doctor took a spoonful of something gooey from his plate.
"What did you say that is again?" she asked.
"Bananas Foster. Its main ingredients are bananas and vanilla ice cream with a sauce primarily made from rum and banana liqueur," he replied. He glanced at her plate in amusement. "Whereas you seem to be having about three pounds of chocolate for dessert."
She didn't disagree. "They called it 'Death by Chocolate'," she informed him after taking a bite. "A piece of chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream on top, covered in hot fudge."
The Doctor took a bite of his dessert. "Oh," he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head a bit, "this is marvelous. A true gustatory delight. Here, you have to try this." Taking another spoonful, he held it up to Rose. Obediently, she opened her mouth and tasted it.
"Mmm," she nodded. "Good, but you need to try this." Using her own spoon, she scooped a bit of her dessert up and fed him in return.
"It's good," he agreed. "But it doesn't have bananas."
"What's with you and bananas, anyway?" she asked. The topic had come up more than once in the past week.
"Bananas are good," he informed her. "Always bring a banana to a party, Rose…"
Afterwards the Doctor took her dancing, and not the kind at the club. Real, old fashioned dancing, with a real band in an actual ballroom. She hadn't realized such places even existed anymore.
The band was playing big band music that evening, and she almost felt like she was floating as he swept her around the floor. At one point, the Doctor had gone to speak to the conductor for a moment, and when he had gotten back the band had begun to play In the Mood.
"Oh, I love this song," she said as he pulled her back onto the dance floor, and he just grinned widely.
Finally, he held her as they danced to Moonlight Serenade, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, her head resting against his chest. As much as she had loved the fast dancing they had done to many of the big band hits, and she was amazed by how many of the songs were familiar to her, it was nothing compared to the feeling she got by being held by him to the slow sounds of the clarinet, saxophones and trumpets. For a moment she closed her eyes and imagined herself dancing with him during World War II, in the middle of the Blitz, in a deserted room with Moonlight Serenade playing on the radio and bombs going off in the distance. Why that image seemed so romantic to her she couldn't imagine, but it did. And as she leaned closer into him and he held her tighter, she smiled happily to herself.
Late that night, he walked her from the car back to her flat.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I had a fantastic time."
"Me, too," he replied, leaned down and gently kissed her.
After the night at the club, she had thought it would be impossible for any kiss to be better than that first kiss they had shared, but she had found that somehow each one since was better than the last. He must be the best kisser on the planet, she thought absently as they slowly snogged at her door, and she felt a profound sense of loss when he pulled away, despite feeling an acute need for oxygen.
"Do you… do you want to come in?" she asked breathlessly. When he looked hesitant, she continued. "Mum's not here. She was going out with Howard tonight and she'll probably spend the night at his place." Without waiting for an answer, she turned and unlocked the door, just expecting him to follow her, and he did.
Once inside the door, he pulled her in for another kiss, pulling her tightly to himself. Within moments they found themselves on the sofa, the jacket of his tux unbuttoned, his bowtie off and jammed in a pocket somewhere, her hair undone and flowing around her shoulders. His lips were on her throat with one hand cupping her breast. She sighed and dropped her head back, and he moved his mouth lower. She leaned back to lie on the sofa lengthwise, pulling him down with her, and her heart raced as she felt his hand move to her thigh, coming to rest just under the hem of her dress.
Suddenly he removed his hand and sat up with a groan. "I can't do this," he said. "I can't do this."
"Wha… what's wrong," she asked breathlessly.
"This is wrong," he said, more to himself than to her. "I can't…" He looked into her eyes. "And particularly not when you don't really know who I am."
She propped herself up on her elbows. "What do you mean, I don't really know who you are? What on Earth are you talking about?"
He took a deep breath. "Rose, do you trust me?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered automatically.
"No," he said seriously. "Do you really, really trust me?"
"Yes," she told him, matching his tone.
He stood up and offered her his hand. "Then come with me."