Chapter 13

The next morning, the Doctor opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. Bright sunlight was streaming through the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, hitting him full in the face. It was almost too bright even with his eyes closed, but the warmth where it touched his skin felt good. Slowly he realized he was being weighed down by something. He wasn't quite restrained, but he couldn't really move. Something warm was lying across his legs, his arm, his chest.

Despite the glare, the Doctor forced open his eyes and glanced down. He smiled when he saw blonde hair on his shoulder, an arm draped across his chest. Rose. She must have, they both must have, accidentally fallen asleep after his nightmare last night. And the weight across his legs must be her leg.

Trying not to wake her up, he placed a gentle kiss in her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo. Strawberry and vanilla and Rose, he thought, smiling again. Allowing himself to relax, he enjoyed the closeness albeit somewhat guiltily. And then couldn't relax as he became aware of exactly where her leg was. Part of him was enjoying this a tiny bit too much. Well, perhaps a bit more than that. Weeelll, perhaps a lot more than that.

He froze as she shifted slightly in her sleep, tightening her grip on him and moving her leg upward an inch. Slowly he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

He didn't understand it. He had held Rose before. And it wasn't the first time in his memory that she had fallen asleep on him. And it certainly wasn't the first time he had desired her. That had seemed like an almost constant condition while they had been traveling together. He'd been in love with her almost since the first time they'd met. He had begun to realize how he felt the first time they went to Cardiff, back when they met Charles Dickens. But this time he felt overwhelmed, almost out of control, heart racing…Oh. Heart. Singular.

His current part human biology was doing him in. Evidently he had a full measure of human hormones coursing through his body. As a Time Lord he had had much more control over his biological functions. He had known that humans had much less control over their physiology, but it wasn't until now that he had truly experienced it. He didn't count that stint he spent as a human when he and Martha had been hiding from the Family of Blood. He hadn't remembered being anything but human then so hadn't noticed any differences. Plus, back then he hadn't woken up with a warm, half-naked Rose Tyler wrapped around him, either.

Rose shifted again, her leg moving against his groin, and he stifled a groan. Think North, think North, think North, he told himself, and attempted to think of anything above the waist rather than below. Slowly he became able to concentrate on the feel of her arm lying across his chest, her head on his shoulder, her chest moving against him as she breathed, the curve of her breast as it lay against his chest…

He froze again, eyes wide. That hadn't helped. He tried not to think the sleeveless top she was wearing, fabric worn thin from many washings, armholes slightly too large, too loose and a bit revealing. Or the shorts, perfect for sleeping, but perhaps a wee too, well, short.

That hadn't helped either. He needed to think of something boring, something mathematical, something as far from domestic as possible. Or he could wake her up. But then she'd get up and this exquisite torture would end. Plus, if she was to wake up now, there would be no way she could mistake the effect she had on him. He had no idea how she would feel about waking up next to, or actually half on top of, a randy, part human Time Lord. Uh, no. Not a good idea given the current state of their relationship.

He really needed to get himself under control before he did something stupid, like roll her onto her back and snog her awake and then shag her senseless. As absolutely brilliant as that would be… but no. He screwed up his face and concentrated on mentally reciting the digits of pi. He had reached the six hundred fifty-third decimal place, it was a 6, before everything returned to somewhat normal. He sighed. This being part human business was going to take a lot of work.

Rose inhaled deeply, reluctantly returning to consciousness. Where was she? Suddenly, she remembered that she was in Cardiff, and with a start, realized she was in the Doctor's bed, half wrapped around him. Oh. That was awkward. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She should really get up. But, oh God, he smelled so good. Underneath the fragrances of soap and shampoo, he smelled almost exactly like she remembered her Doctor did, of Time and distant planets, familiar and alien and male. And it had been the best night's sleep she had had in weeks. Months, actually. And she didn't want to remember how long it had been since she had been held like this. She snuggled closer, feeling a tiny bit guilty given the state of their relationship, and felt his arm tighten around her shoulders in response. So he was awake. Oops. She really should get up.

Rose found herself unable to stifle a yawn.

"Good morning," said a voice from somewhere over her head.

"Mornin'." She yawned again. "Sorry. I must have fallen asleep on you."

"Not a problem," he responded. "You're welcome to fall asleep on me any time you like."

She raised one eyebrow. Just what exactly was he suggesting? She wondered if he had even meant to say that last part out loud. When she heard him clear his throat, she guessed not.

Rose debated how to respond. "You sure 'bout that? Because I have been informed that I snore. From a very reliable source."

"Really?" To Rose's ears, he sounded like he was trying not to sound jealous.

"Oh, yes. He tells me it all the time." Her mouth twitched in amusement.

"So who is this mystery man?" he asked.

Yep, there was definitely an edge to his voice, she thought. Winding him up was just too easy. She decided to put him out of his misery.

"He's blond, and blue-eyed, and very cute. But I wouldn't call him a man, though. After all, Tony's not even six."

The Doctor sighed in relief as Rose burst out laughing. She poked him in the side and jumped out of bed, running from the room before he could retaliate.

Fifteen minutes later Rose was jogging through the streets of Cardiff.

Rose knew the streets of Cardiff well, having lived in the city for almost four years. She followed a familiar path, one that she knew would not only give her the workout she needed but also time to sort out her thoughts.

Rose had been having trouble sleeping for months. Years, even. The push to first, finish the dimension cannon, and second, search for the Doctor using it, had left her perpetually sleep deprived. Having a regular night's sleep, even having time for a regular night's sleep, more than once every week or two seemed like a fantasy. And then when she actually did sleep, she didn't sleep well, dreaming of white walls, deserted beaches, and, most recently, a body covered by a sheet on a gurney. She ended up living on caffeine and painkillers, taking short naps on a cot in her office at Torchwood when everything just got to be too much and she was on the verge of collapse. The bad habits of months, as well as an increasing dependence on caffeine, had become so ingrained that her body wasn't able to have a normal night's sleep even when it was possible. Even since they had returned to the mansion, she still hadn't had a good night's sleep.

Waking up with the Doctor, in his bed and in his arms, had seen the end of her sleeping problem for the moment but had created an entirely different one. The sudden and powerful return of her libido had hit her like a ton of bricks. After so many years of practically living like a nun, she had almost forgotten she had one, but waking up in the arms of the Doctor, even if he wasn't her Doctor, feeling his warmth, and, oh God, smelling him, had been so incredibly arousing she knew a simple cold shower wouldn't suffice.

Hence the five mile run.

When she had fled the Doctor's bedroom, she had hoped the teasing she had given him might have distracted him before he realized how she was feeling. She knew the Doctor had much keener senses than a human, that had been obvious by his ability to identify the ozone in the air at the substation, and she just hoped, she really, really hoped, that he hadn't noticed the wave of arousal she had been feeling. And the pheromones she most certainly must have been giving off.

Rose followed the curve of the waterfront for more than a mile before turning inland to follow a loop that would lead back to the hotel. The path she took avoided the busiest streets so she would minimize having to stop for traffic. Although it had been a couple of years since she had been back, she still felt she could have run the path with her eyes closed.

Over the years, Rose had gotten into the habit of working out a minimum of five days a week. Even when she had been doing dimensional jumps, she had made a point of visiting the gym for at least a half hour most days, wanting to be in top physical shape for whatever she might face. Because of circumstances, she had not worked out in over a week. She had been beginning to feel the lack of activity and so had decided to pack exercise clothes at the last minute, just in case. After pulling her hair up into a ponytail and pulling on her typical summer running outfit, vest over a sports bra, shorts, running shoes, she had called to the Doctor to let him know where she was going. There had been no response, so she had knocked on his bedroom door and called louder.

"Rose? Is everything alright?" he had answered, sounding worried.

Oh.

He had been in the shower.

He had come out of the room vigorously drying his hair with one towel, wearing another wrapped low around his hips. For a moment all she could see was a light smattering of dark hair across his chest, and a slightly thicker trail leading downward from his navel to disappear underneath the towel.

Oh. My.

She had forced her eyes upward and looked at his face. When she had seen poorly disguised amusement written all over it, she knew, she just knew, that he knew what she had been thinking.

"Sorry," she had stammered, "I, uh, I just wanted to tell you … I'm, uh, gonna go for a run." She gestured at the door. "I'll, uh, be back in 'bout an hour, maybe. Okay?" She had then turned and practically fled out the door.

As it closed behind her, she could have sworn she heard him say softly, "Huh. Still got it."

Cocky git.

Gorgeous cocky git.

After Rose left, the Doctor returned to the ensuite to finish getting ready. As he looked in the mirror to shave, the Doctor found himself completely unable to wipe the grin off his face. So he had been right about what he had sensed earlier. Rose was attracted to him. Well, he always had been a bit pretty in this form, he thought, as he surveyed himself in the mirror. Thank goodness the meta-crisis hadn't changed that.

His grin widened. Rose was attracted to him. He wasn't naïve enough or foolish enough to think that this solved anything, but it was a start. It gave him hope. For the first time since that bloody beach, he had the teeniest bit of hope that things had the chance of really working out with Rose. She might be able to develop feelings for him. This him. And he quite liked hope. Always had. It was so … hopeful.

Ever since he had said the words, ever since he had answered the question that Rose posed on the beach, he had opened himself up, left himself more vulnerable than he had ever been since he left Gallifrey. He had spent a lifetime, a Gallifreyan lifetime, no, a Time Lord series of lifetimes, running: running from relationships, running from responsibilities, running from the consequences of decisions and choices he had made or had been forced to make because there was no one else to make them. A lifetime of running stopped with three words whispered on a desolate beach. And after the most perfect, most desired kiss of his long life, the hope that had begun when he had first seen Rose on that deserted burned out London street had been dashed with the sound of the TARDIS leaving.

And a realization that despite the words, despite the kiss, he wasn't who she wanted.

But waking up to Rose Tyler in his arms, in his bed, surrounded by her warmth and her scent had been wonderful. Even if it had been an accident. But even more wonderful than that had been the look of attraction, desire even, he had seen on her face when she looked at him. And the incredibly tantalizing odor of the pheromones she had been giving off, he thought with a grin. Cos that, that was pure hope.

Because it echoed the desire he had for her.

Buoyed by his feelings, he tried to whistle. And found he couldn't, because he couldn't seem to manage to get his goofy grin off his face. Made shaving tough in some spots, too. So did the bouncing on his toes he was evidently doing. Stop that, he told himself firmly, and tried to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

When Rose got back from her run she discovered the Doctor had ordered breakfast for them both. It was laid out on the small table in the sitting area but he was nowhere to be found. Promising herself she'd eat when she was done, she quickly showered and changed into something appropriate for work. She might not be assigned to Torchwood Three anymore, but she still was working and as the step-daughter of Torchwood's Director, she felt she had an example to set. She put on a salmon colored, cotton short sleeve top and cream colored trousers which were both lightweight enough to be dressy and sturdy enough to be practical. Her shoes, while not trainers, were comfortable enough and had enough support that she could run in them if she had to. Ever since traveling with the Doctor, her first consideration when buying shoes was always the ability to run in them. The only time she wore anything else was when she had to attend the occasional formal Vitex function. Pete was still Chairman of the Board at Vitex and she sometimes still needed to put in an appearance now and then. Rose put on a tiny bit of make up, quickly brushed her hair and she was ready.

They each exited their bedrooms at the same time. To Rose's surprise, the Doctor wasn't wearing his familiar blue pinstriped suit. Instead, he was wearing a black short sleeved tee with a pair of charcoal trousers. She wasn't used to seeing him like this. She had only rarely seen the other Doctor after his regeneration in anything other than some form of a pinstriped suit, usually with a shirt and tie, occasionally with two shirts, often paired with his long, camel colored trench coat. With just the tee the Doctor looked almost undressed. It was such an unfamiliar, and attractive, look for him she had to force herself not to stare. The only thing familiar about what he was wearing were his new trainers, light grey this time. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that perhaps the five mile run and the cold shower she had taken hadn't been enough. She was inwardly pleased to note he seemed to be staring as well. She shoved that thought, along with her traitorous libido, as far out of her mind as she could.

"Hello," she said, falling into their familiar pattern.

"Hello," he replied, an adorable lopsided grin on his face. Evidently there was something odd about her expression because he said, "What?"

"You, you changed." To her own ears, Rose thought she sounded like an idiot.

"Well, I wasn't going to wear just a towel to Torchwood." He sounded slightly indignant.

Rose blinked, trying to ignore the image that popped into her mind. "No," she said. "Just not used to seeing you without that blue suit."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he asked, glancing down at himself. He had been feeling too warm to wear his suit.

"Nothing," she responded. "It's just … different."

"Oh," he said, slowly smiling. "Good different or bad different?"

Rose had a sense of déjà vu come over her. She had had a similar conversation with the other Doctor after he had regenerated. He was quoting himself, she thought, or was he quoting the other Doctor? She still wasn't clear in her mind if they were truly his memories, or whether they were somehow borrowed.

"Just different," she responded, deliberately quoting herself.

At hearing her response, his small smile turned into a wide grin.

They sat down to eat. He hadn't been specific about what he wanted when he ordered, so the hotel had sent up a variety of fresh fruits, pastries, tea and coffee. Rose was a slower eater, so while he ate twice as much as she did, he was finished long before her. While she finished, he nursed a cup of tea and researched something on her tablet computer. Watching him reminded her that she really needed to get him a laptop and a mobile.

She glanced at the EPad in his hands. Evidently he had done something to it, because the images were flying across the screen faster than she could see them. Yep, he really needed his own computer before he broke hers. If he hadn't already.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, wondering if they needed to buy two new computers.

"First, I looked at the data from the Hubble telescope. But it's not the Hubble telescope here, it's the Kinley for some reason, probably named after someone called Kinley I suppose, and it was put up by the Australians, not the Americans. Anyway, there's something odd about the stars that disappeared. The ones that are still gone, I mean. There's something familiar about them that I just can't remember." He sighed. "It'll come to me eventually."

"Then, I checked your email," he said.

"What?" she said in outrage, but not surprise, because no version of the Doctor she knew had ever gotten the hang of personal boundaries where she was concerned.

"You mostly had junk," he continued as if she hadn't responded. "You know you can filter that, I can set it up for you if you like. Pete sent a link to the London Times I'll check in a minute. And there's a person named Robert who wants to take you out to dinner on Friday. I wrote him back and told him that you weren't interested, you were now living with a devastatingly handsome man with a jealous streak and that if he valued his health he should bugger off."

"Did you really?" she said in horrified fascination.

"Not actually, no," he admitted.

"Well, you can if you want," she said, laughing. "I've been trying to give Robert the brush off for months. Mum wanted to fix me up with him and he just doesn't want to take no for an answer."

"Okay, I will," he grinned, "just as soon as I'm done with this. Right now, I'm scanning a brief history of the planet. You wouldn't believe the number of differences there are between this planet and your home world. I don't want to slip up accidentally in conversation and say something about Prince William, say, just to find out he doesn't exist."

She raised one eyebrow. "Are you likely to talk about the royal family? Because they don't live here anymore. They all emigrated to America."

"You see, that's just it. I didn't know that. I don't want to sound like an idiot."

"Yeah, cos that never happens," she teased.

He shot her a dark look and tried not to smile. Returning to the computer, he touched the screen and more images zoomed past.

"And now, now I'm looking at today's news reports," he continued. "Ooo, that's not good." He grimaced.

"What is it?"

"There've been more power outages, and more people are missing," he said, looking at her grimly. "We've got to get this sorted."