Yay, more James and Ian and Rose! These guys are basically killing me at this point, just fyi.
"So, let me see if I've got this right," Donna said as James checked his bags to make sure he had everything for the weekend. "You're going away for the weekend with Rose and Ian."
"Yes, Donna," he answered exasperatedly, having already told her this at least three times in the past week.
"The whole weekend," she went on, ignoring his tone. "And then you're coming back to continue tutoring Ian, which has basically become code for spending as much time with Rose as possible."
"Yes. I mean, no," he said quickly, his head snapping up when her words caught up to him. "I told you, it's not like that."
"Right," Donna replied, clearly having none if it. "You've only been spending at least three nights out of seven with her, after Ian is in bed, and burdening the rest of us with stories about them when you're here. And now you're taking her away for the weekend, without even trying to come up with an excuse about it being a learning experience for Ian. But it's alright, because it's not 'like that', cause you haven't got any feelings for her anymore."
"Glad you've sorted that out for yourself," he said distractedly, picking up his bags and hurrying out of his bedroom.
"Have you got your phone charger?" his sister asked, following him into the hall and down the stairs.
"Yes."
"And your razor?"
"Yes."
"And your trunks?"
"Yes."
"And Rose's most attractive feature?"
"Her smile."
"Right," she answered with a triumphant grin when he whipped around to her at the bottom if the steps. "Glad that's all sorted. Have a good time, Spaceman."
James only answered with an irritable growl as he left the house, dropping his bags in the boot of the car before driving over to Rose's flat.
While he did love spending time with Rose, they were just friends anymore. He might still harbor a bit of a crush on her, because who wouldn't, but he'd let go of any romantic intentions. She wasn't ready for anything like that, and hadn't shown any evidence that she had any feelings for him even if she were. For god's sake, it had taken her six months to admit they were even friends. But it was fine, because he'd rather be friends with her and help her than let her close herself off and lose her and Ian completely. All of which he'd explained to his sister and grandfather numerous times in the past few weeks, but it only seemed to convince them further that he was in the throws of Shakespearean levels of unrequited love.
But really, who wouldn't be bowled over by her grin?
Ian was already bouncing off the walls with excitement when James arrived at the flat, and Rose wished him luck before heading to the office for a couple of hours to help Sarah Jane tie up a few things before the long weekend. He managed to steer the conversation toward something resembling an education by talking about aquatic life and things Ian might find in tide pools. This was not helped by the fact that Ian kept peppering him with questions like "Are you sure the hotel won't get drowned in high tide?" and "Does room service make cheesy noodles like Mummy does?"
You can't blame him for having his priorities straight, Rose replied to his text about this. Just don't tell him the cheesy noodles are boxed.
He was relieved when Rose finally came home and he could give up all pretense of lecture. Not that Ian would have even let him try to continue.
"Mummy!" he shouted as soon as Rose opened the door, jumping up from his chair and bounding over to her. "James promises that he checked with the hotel and they won't get drowned like Atlantis in high tide, but I guess they probably planned for that, so as long as there's not a tsunami, we should be fine." She looked up at James at the mention of tsunamis, but he just shrugged and shook his head in resignation. She fought a smile, eyes dancing as she looked back down at her son. "An' James says we might see star fish and sea amenanies...anenanamie…"
"Anemones?" she guessed.
"Yeah!" he agreed happily. "Can we go soon, Mummy?"
"Yes, darling," she laughed. "We can definitely go soon, or you might explode. James, I'm just going to change into something more comfortable."
"Ms Smith," he said, arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's entirely appropriate?"
"Oh my god," she groaned, rolling her eyes as Ian looked between them in confusion. "Just...wait there, yeah? Be back in a tick."
He smirked as she turned toward the bedroom, and started putting away his teaching supplies gratefully. Truth be told, he was having a little trouble focusing as well-understandable, given that he had three and a half days of uninterrupted time with Rose and Ian to look forward to. He looked up when he heard her door open, but any smart remark he might have made died in his throat when he took in the white and yellow sundress she'd changed into. It was perfectly modest, but the way it flowed over her curves when she moved definitely felt more than a little sinful to James.
Okay, make that definitely still harboring a crush.
"What is it?" she asked, looking down at herself critically when she caught him staring. "Have a got something on me?"
"No," he answered quickly, dragging his eyes back up to her face with considerable effort. "No, you look...you look great." He tugged at one ear, hoping it wasn't as red as it felt. "You...all set then?"
"Yeah," she said, tongue creeping out between her teeth as she gave him a half-confused, half-flattered smile before turning to Ian. "You want to get your knapsack, Scrunchkin?"
Ian darted into his room, only to return a moment later with his knapsack on his back and Zippo in his arms. "Zippo can come too, right?"
"Absolutely," James said, picking their bags up and nodding at the door for Ian to precede him. "I would never bring us to a place that discriminated against small dragons."
"You've got a plan for everything, haven't you?" Rose asked as she followed them out the door, and he looked back at her with a wink and click of his tongue.
The drive was a dream in a way it only could be on a hot Friday afternoon at the beginning of a made up Bank Holiday. While everyone else was still at work, Bessie cruised down the highways with her windows down and passengers chatting happily. James snuck a glance at Rose ever so often, making sure she was really okay with this, that the panic centers of her brain weren't screeching at her in the silence of her head, but he was relieved to see nothing amiss. In fact, she seemed to give in to the holiday spirit more fully the further they got from the flat; by the time they reached the hotel two hours later, she was sparkling.
He began to worry that he was the one that had made the grave error in judgment.
He pushed the thought away without dwelling on it, given that it was probably just a knee jerk reaction to the shock of such a different Rose. He'd seen it before, if rarely, but it was like he'd told her... Happy Rose was the prettiest Rose.
"Can we go to the beach right away?" Ian asked, practically vibrating at his side as he checked in and collected their keys. "Will there be waves?"
"I expect so," James replied mildly, leading them to the lift. "Tide should be coming in, great time for waves."
"Let's just get settled in for a mo, shall we?" Rose suggested with a meaningful look at James.
"But Mummy-"
"Hey, she didn't say we couldn't," James said with a shrug. "But we have to put our bags down and things before we do anything anyway. Relax, little man. The beach isn't going anywhere." Ian let out a dejected sigh, slumping his shoulders, and James fought back a smile. "It's a tough lot, being six."
"It really is," the little boy responded with feeling, and James did let out a snort of laughter then, moving the bags to one hand in order to put the other around his shoulders reassuringly.
His distress was momentarily forgotten when they made it to his and Rose's room and he saw the two full size beds. He immediately whooped and dropped his knapsack to take a running leap onto one of them.
"We could've shared a bed," Rose commented, looking around the room as she dropped her bag, the only one James had allowed her to carry, and only for want of more hands.
"Yeah, I know," James said, setting the other bags down. He stepped closer to her, putting a hand on the back of her neck and turning her toward the beds. "But look at him." Ian sprawled out on the bed, Zippo at his side, and let out a giggle. "It's all part of the experience, Rose."
Rose smiled softly, then shook her head. "I dunno why I even bother. The two of you are always gonna get your way anyway."
"Yeah, you might want to just consider surrendering early," he replied, pulling a face and shrugging as he lowered his hand.
She snorted, rolling her eyes, then sobered and turned fully to him again. "But listen, he only just had lessons last summer. He's not exactly what you'd call a strong swimmer-"
"It'll be fine," he assured her.
"No, but with the waves-"
"Rose," he said, putting his hands on her arms and slouching down to look in her eyes, "he'll never be in the water alone. And if they waves are that strong, I'll keep a hold on him, I promise. It's going to be fine. What's more, it's going to be fun. So relax. This is your vacation too." She watched him for a moment, then made a show of taking a deep, calming breath. "There you go."
They smiled at each other, and his thumbs moved gently over her bare skin in a reassuring caress. Mostly reassuring anyway. Probably 70/30 reassuring versus just caress. 65/35, tops.
"Can we go to the beach now, Mummy?"
James took a hurried step back, dropping his hands from Rose's arms and swallowing hard. Rose eyed him for another moment before turning to Ian, sitting up on the bed and watching them.
"Yeah, alright, c'mon," she said, grabbing at one of the bags. "Let's find your suit."
"I'll just...go change," James put in, grabbing at his bag with only slight desperation.
Definitely a miscalculation somewhere.
oOoOo
"But Mummy it makes me all slimey and putrid smelling."
"Sunblock is not putrid," Rose argued, squeezing a dollop out on her hand. "And it won't matter if it's slimey when you're wet."
"But Mummy-"
"Sunblock or we go back to the hotel," she said firmly.
"Fiiiiine," he acquiesced, standing in front of her with his arms held out, the very picture of suffering.
"Christ, he looks like he's preparing to be crucified," James murmured, setting up a beach umbrella.
"As far as he's concerned, he is," Rose sniffed, rolling her eyes as she started slathering sunblock on her son. "Don't forget yours either," she added, nodding at the tube at her side.
"Oh, I'm fine," James said, and Rose glanced up to see him tugging off his t-shirt and revealing...far more skin than she was accustomed to. Her hands paused as her mouth dropped open a little, and he looked down in confusion when he saw her staring. "What?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, returning to her task and trying to ignore how much...broader he seemed without his shirt. "Just a little...nothing. But you should be wearing sunblock too."
"Rose-" He stopped when she looked up at him after a pointed glance at Ian, then sighed. "Fiiiiine," he muttered, and she rolled her eyes at how much he sounded like Ian as he snatched up the tube and dropped down next to her.
"Am I done yet, Mummy?" Ian whined, wriggling as she spread cream over the last bit of exposed skin on his shoulders.
"Yeah, fine, go," she sighed, and he immediately started running for the surf. "No further than your ankles 'til one of us gets there!"
"Okay, Mummy!"
She watched him for a moment, then reached to untie the knot of the sarong around her waist, intent on covering herself with cream as well. As she let it fall to her sides, a movement in her peripheral vision had her snapping her head up to see the tube of sunblock suddenly airborne. She turned a questioning look to James, staring down at his hands.
"Slippery hands," he choked out, cheeks flushed and body stiff with embarrassment. "Sorry. Ehm. Did you want some help with your back?"
"Oh...um...sure, yeah," she said, picking up the tube and squeezing some out on her hand as he positioned himself behind her, then handed it back to him.
She started rubbing the cream on her arms, then paused when she felt his fingers brush over her neck, gathering her hair and dropping it over one of her shoulders. When she felt his hands on her back, she shivered involuntarily.
"Sorry! Too cold?"
"No...it's fine," she replied, trying to steady her breathing. Get it together, she commanded herself, forcing herself to focus back on her arms and not the way his palms felt as they massaged suncream into her back.
Just friends. Absolutely. Which is why she was totally fine, and absolutely was not thoroughly distracted by the sensation of his slender fingers dipping into the edge of her suit and under her straps. There was zero sexual element, just UV protection.
"There you are," he said as he finished, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Alright?"
"Yeah," she said quickly, glancing back at him briefly before looking forward toward the water again. Ian was up to his calves-close enough-and kicking at the waves rippling over his legs. She shifted on the towel, raising herself up to her knees. "Come on, I'll do yours. Better be quick before Ian has a conniption."
"Oh, I'm fine," he said quickly, backing away from her when she glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Really, it's-"
"Oh my god, you're as bad as Ian," she groaned, reaching back and tugging at his arm. "You might think you're fine, Mister Noble, but those freckles tell a different story. You'll burn in five minutes, and you can't convince me otherwise."
He made another sound of protest, then gave in when she raised her eyebrows and tugged at his arm again. "Fine."
He crawled around her and sat down in front of her while she squeezed more sunblock onto her hands and rubbed them together to warm it up. He sucked in a breath when her hands touched his skin, goosebumps erupting from the spot, and she winced. She pulled her hands away to rub them together for another moment before trying again, palms gliding over his back as she spread the cream. She was surprised again by the muscles shifting beneath his skin-for someone so skinny, he seemed deceptively toned, with firm muscles that rippled when he moved. Really firm. Almost-
"Blimey, are you always this tense?" she asked when she reached his shoulders.
"Yes," he said shortly, and she raised her eyebrows before making a face at the back of his head. Bloody grumpy men acting like they're thirty-five going on five.
Something in front of them caught his attention as she finished up, and he tilted his head a little before turning and searching in another direction. When he found whatever he was looking for, his expression twisted and his eyes slid shut for a moment before he shook himself.
"Gotta go," he said quickly, reaching back to brush her thigh with a feather light touch, too quick for her to react to, before scrambling to his feet and heading for the water.
"What-"
She stopped when she realized what he'd seen. Ian was still standing in the water, but was looking back at the beach a little away from where Rose was sitting, picking at his nails and wearing a strange expression. When she turned, she saw a little boy about his age, maybe a year or two older, building a sand castle with a man who could only be his dad.
"Oh, Ian," she murmured, waves of guilt and pain washing over her as she turned back to her son, already getting to her feet.
James got to him before she could take a step, his long legs having eaten up the distance quickly, and he caught the little boy around the waist with a roar, flipping him upside down before tossing him over his shoulder and wading purposefully into the waves. Ian's screams and giggles carried back where Rose was standing, and she smiled softly, crossing her arms over herself as her stomach did a weird flip.
James set Ian down when the water was about waist high on the boy, and a wave immediately crashed over him from behind. Rose lurched forward in concern, but, true to his word, James had kept a hand on Ian's arm, keeping him from getting knocked down into the water. James urged him a little closer to the beach before the next wave hit, making sure the waves stopped short of the little boy's head and that he could keep his balance before letting go. Ian searched the beach for a moment before finding Rose and waving with a grin.
"Come on, Mummy!" he shouted. "It's your turn!"
She smiled and made her way to the water, but let out a little yelp when it washed over her feet.
"It's freezing!"
"Oh, it's not that bad," James protested, wading closer. "You think this is bad, you should have felt it two months ago."
"No, ta," she replied firmly, grasping his arm when he reached for her. His hand encircled her arm just above her wrist, providing firm support as she stepped closer-until a firm tug pulled her off her feet and face first into the water.
She broke the surface again quickly, and a strong arm around her waist steadied her as she sputtered and pushed hair out of her face. She blinked water out of her eyes, then looked up at James accusingly.
"You did that on purpose!"
"I swear I didn't," he replied, his expression convincingly horrified. "My foot slipped, I'm sorry!" She huffed at him, and his expression changed, his eyebrows rising as a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Although...it's certainly a good way to acclimate yourself to the temperature."
Rose's eyes narrowed as he stepped away from her, looking entirely too confident for his own good. "You know, you're right."
In a flash, she was under the water again. Before he could react, she grabbed his leg below his knee and tugged, tipping him off balance. She resurfaced as he crashed backwards, with Ian giggling madly to the side. James gave her a dark look when he found his feet again, bottom lip pulled down just a bit to bear his teeth as he slicked his hair back from his forehead with one hand.
"Just making sure you've been properly acclimated," she said innocently.
"Right." He tilted his head to rid his ear off water. "A true act of selflessness. You, Ms. Smith, are an example to us all."
"Glad you realize that," she replied cheekily, tongue poking out a little from her grin.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the water. Ian clung to James's back as the older man rode the waves of the incoming tide, then practiced the strokes he'd learned the summer before as the water calmed a bit. Rose was beginning to feel a bit waterlogged when Ian suddenly announced that he was starving, and she gratefully followed him and James back to the hotel.
They had supper at the hotel restaurant after they changed. Rose tried to tell James that she'd pay for that much, at least, but he refused, claiming that watching Ian's attempts at eating lobster on his own was worth every pound. She was feeling pleasantly relaxed and sleepy as they watched the sunset from the shared terrace between the rooms-because James always seemed to get what he wanted-and laid her head on his shoulder, shivering a little when he slipped an arm around her waist.
"Cold?" he asked quietly.
"A bit," she lied, trying to cover her reaction. Her mistake became quickly evident when he stepped behind her and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She stiffened for an instant, but the whole holiday atmosphere-the colors of the sunset, the scent if the sea, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the beach below them-made it harder for her to resist, and she relaxed against him after a moment. He rested his cheek on her head, one of his thumbs moving in slow circles on her arm and making her heart feel fluttery.
"Mummy," Ian said suddenly, making both adults start. "I'm tired. Can we go to bed now?"
"Course, sweetheart," Rose replied. She stepped away from James, trying not to notice the way his fingers trailed over her skin as his hands lingered on her arms. She gave him a smile as she turned, putting one arm around Ian's shoulders as he rubbed his eyes. "Word of advice, always take a six year old up on his offer to go to bed before you have to drag him."
"Noted," James said with a grin, reaching forward to tousle Ian's hair. "Good night, little man. See you both in the morning."
Rose got Ian changed into his pyjamas and tucked him into bed, marveling at how little he looked in a full sized bed to himself. Ian hadn't been lying about being tired, though; by the time Rose got herself into bed, he was already asleep. She turned out the lights and flipped on the telly, lowering the volume as she channel surfed and waited for her own fatigue to find her. She looked up a few minutes later when her phone suddenly buzzed, and picked it up to find a new text message from James.
-BBC2
She stared at the text in confusion before flipping to the channel, then smothered a laugh with her hand when she saw a documentary on the history of computers. She looked down when her phone buzzed again.
-Fiver says I can find more errors than facts.
-You're on.
oOoOo
"Are we going swimming again soon?" Ian asked over breakfast the next morning.
"Oh, now, Ian m'boy, you didn't think our trip would be limited to just paddling around in the waves did you?" James replied, brows furrowing even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes?" Ian ventured, glancing at Rose in confusion.
James huffed. "Absolutely not. We're going on an adventure."
"What sort of adventure?"
"Well," he said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table and clasp his elbows, "you remember me telling you about the tide pools? Fancy a bit of exploring? Might even find a sea anenenenome," he added with a grin, and Ian giggled.
"Yeah!" the little boy agreed exuberantly.
"Excellent," James said, then turned to Rose. "You coming along?"
"Exploring the fascinating world of tide pools?" Rose asked, her chin resting in her hand as she looked between them. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Brilliant," he said, tongue swiping over his top teeth as his grin widened.
Rose trailed along behind them as they took to the beach, enjoying the sea breeze as it played with her blue sundress and floppy hat. James and Ian wandered around the tide pools hand in hand, occasionally stopping for James to point out something particularly interesting. At one point, James let go of Ian's hand to reach down and lift something up, and Rose paused to watch them, heads bent together as they looked at the shelled animal he'd procured. She took her phone out of her beach tote, snapping a photo of them before Ian looked up and called for her to come and see.
"It's a hermit crab, Mummy," Ian informed her when she got closer, crouching down to look at the tiny crustacean.
"Surprised it let you pick it up," she commented.
"This little guy is particularly friendly, I'll grant you," James said, shifting his hands to let the crab waddle across them. "But the name is a misnomer-they're actually very social creatures. Can travel in packs of up to a hundred, scavenging for food."
"Imagine that coming over the ridge," she said with a shudder, and he chuckled.
"Can I hold it, James?" Ian asked.
James looked up at him cautiously, debating. "Very carefully," he advised after a moment, holding out his hand and letting the crab walk onto Ian's. "They're incredibly afraid of heights."
"Really?" Rose asked, surprised.
He hummed an affirmative, his eyes trained on Ian. "You would be too, if a fall from three feet could kill you. But if they're scared or stressed, they're more likely to pinch, so you need to be careful when you handle them."
"Can I get a hermit crab as a pet, Mummy?" Ian asked.
She gave James a panicked look, and he cut in quickly. "Better not, little man. Fussy little creatures, hermit crabs. They need all sorts of things-certain humidity, temperature, two different kinds of water, and that's just the basics."
"Maybe when you're older," Rose offered as conciliation.
"Okay," Ian said, but still sounded disappointed.
They moved on after that, managing to catch sight of a sea anemone to Ian's unending delight and taking away some of the sting of the refused pet. They went back to the beach after lunch, and Rose forgot about the whole thing-until James disappeared mysteriously after dinner, only to show up again an hour later with a pair of stuffed hermit crabs.
"Stuffed crabs are far more congenial than live ones," he explained, kneeling down and holding them up as Ian's eyes got wide. "Don't care about temperature or humidity, and never pinch."
Ian watched him for a moment, uncertain what to do. "Go on," Rose urged, pushing lightly at his shoulders, and it was all the encouragement he needed. He darted over to James, throwing his arms around the man's neck and murmuring a thank you before taking the crabs and climbing onto his bed to introduce them to Zippo.
"Hardy and Hannah," James said as he stood, nodding a little. "Good names."
"Never takes him long," Rose laughed. "Thanks for that, James."
"My pleasure," he replied easily.
"You had to get two?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"They're social creatures, Rose," he reminded her sternly. "Can't have just one, it'd die of loneliness."
"Right," she said, looking back at Ian and his stuffed pets while something inside tugged at her. "Suppose it would."
Ian looked up then. "James, are you going to watch a film with us? Mummy said we could watch Muppet Treasure Island."
"Oh, now, how could I refuse an offer like that?" he responded, burying his hands in his pockets. "Tell you what, how about we all change into our jimjams, and I'll hunt down some popcorn."
"Okay!" Ian said excitedly, hopping off the bed and running over to his suitcase.
"And Rose," he added, reaching one hand toward her to grasp her arm, "they're just crabs. No hidden messages."
Her mouth dropped open a little as she stared at him, stunned. "How'd you-"
"Slightly psychic," he said with a modest shrug, and she snorted. "That...or I've just gotten to know you fairly well."
"So psychic, then," she replied, crossing her arms and tilting her head.
"Yeah, definitely," he agreed quickly, eyebrows waggling earnestly as he smiled. "See you in a few."
Ian insisted they all crowd on his bed when James returned in pyjamas and bearing popcorn-including Zippo, Hardy, and Hannah. He sat between the two adults with the popcorn in his lap. James never made a sound of protest, simply stretched his long legs out in front of him, reaching for a handful of fluffy kernels as he slipped an arm behind Rose's shoulders. As the film started, Rose realized that, hidden messages or not, there was something to being a social creature after all.
oOoOo
James woke up slightly disoriented the next morning, one arm completely asleep and a warm weight curled against his chest as he lay on his side. He blinked, then glanced around, stilling when he realized his position.
They'd all been more exhausted than they'd thought the night before after a day of sun and surf, and had apparently fallen asleep before the film ended. Ian was curled up between him and Rose, clutching Zippo in his sleep, and Rose's fingers had, at some point, twined with James's on the little boy's waist. He disentangled his hand carefully, reaching up to rub his eyes as his gaze traveled up her arm to her face, her head pillowed against his arm, explaining the numbness. He couldn't move her, though-at least, not right away. She looked so relaxed and happy, actually enjoying sleep rather than being plagued with nightmares that left her sparkling eyes looking haunted and bruised.
He reached up with his free hand, brushing her hair back from her face gently. The tips of his fingers lingered over cheek, and he swallowed hard against some emotion he would rather not dissect. If the weekend had accomplished nothing else, it was steadily chipping away at his resolve to maintain a platonic relationship with Rose. It was still possible, in theory, but when he saw her like this, all fight and compulsive self-reliance gone, it was so much harder tell himself that he didn't want to wake up like this every morning.
Ian stirred between them, and James pulled his hand away quickly as the boy's stretching roused his mother. Rose sat up quickly, making it easier for Ian to crawl past her off the bed to the bathroom.
"Have you got any feeling left in your arm?" she asked with an apologetic look.
"Not particularly," he replied, wincing and flexing his arm to get his blood circulating again.
"Sorry," she muttered, taking his hand and attempting to massage some life into it.
"Worth it," he said, shrugging a little. She gave him a shy smile, and his own lips twitched in response. Ian came back before they could say anything else, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.
"Why's it still so dark?" he asked, and James realized the room was still surprisingly murky.
"I dunno." James tugged his hand from Rose's grasp gently, getting off the bed and heading over to the window to pull back the curtain. "Oh...England strikes again."
Rose ducked under his raised arm to look out the window, then groaned at the dark clouds rolling in. Lightening struck as Ian squeezed his way between them, with thunder grumbling several seconds later.
"No beach today?" Ian asked unhappily.
James clicked his tongue. "Afraid not. Tell you what though, that doesn't mean no swimming. The hotel's got a pool...with a hot tub," he added, arching an eyebrow at Rose.
"Now you're talking my language," she said with a grin.
They decided to put off the pool until the afternoon, however, when the rain started, deciding that it was a day to be lazy. James ordered breakfast and lunch through room service, and they got another two films in before any of them really had any desire to venture out of Rose and Ian's room. When they did make it down to the pool, James proved once again the be the master of contingency plans, digging out the water toys he'd brought just in case.
"Are you ever at a loss?" Rose asked when he came out of his room carrying various rings and foam things.
"Around you? Often," he said without thinking, then snapped his eyes up to hers. "But, I mean, pool toys isn't...all that far of a reach. I mentioned weather possibilities back when I first brought up the trip, didn't I?"
"Yeah," she said, an odd look on her face. She shook herself a little when Ian followed her out of the room, and they trooped down to the pool together.
The two adults splashed around with Ian for a while, who started tossing rings into the deep end for James and Rose to retrieve and seemingly arbitrarily declaring a winner every now and then. It didn't stop Rose from sticking her tongue out at James when she was declared the winner, or rolling her eyes when he did a backflip into the water in celebration when he took the title. They drifted a few feet away after a while to soak in the hot tub, with stern instructions for Ian to stay in the shallow water and in sight. Rose claimed that James needed it at least as much as she did, given how tense he apparently always was, and he didn't have an argument that wouldn't be either rude or entirely too revealing. Not that he really wanted to argue anyway, especially not after the moan she let out as she sank into the warm water.
The rain stopped late in the afternoon, and the clouds broke up enough in the evening to watch the sunset from the terrace again. The rain had cooled the air, leaving Rose shivering even more than the first night, and James ducked into his room for a cardigan to drape over her shoulders. She rolled her eyes, muttering something about overplanning, but slipped her arms into the sleeves anyway. She leaned her head against his shoulder as the sun sank over the horizon and stars twinkled to life overhead, and he slipped an arm around her waist as he started pointing out constellations for Ian, far easier to see outside the bustling London.
Rose hustled Ian inside after a while, much to the boy's dismay, but they had both seen him yawning more frequently. He hugged James as he said good night, and Rose offered James a smile as she followed her son into their room. James watched their closed door for a moment before turning back to the beach, leaning his arms on the terrace railing and clasping his hands together loosely as he watched the waves. He wasn't tired yet, given that he'd actually slept enough hours to resemble a normal person the night before...and he wasn't really looking forward to the emptiness of his room after spending so much time with Rose and Ian.
Before he could contemplate that any further, the door to their room opened again behind him, and Rose stepped out. She offered him a small smile before turning and closing the door most of the way, so they'd still hear anything in the room. When she turned again, she held up a small bottle of champagne and two glasses shyly, and he grinned at her as she stepped closer.
"I figure we deserve a little adult time on the last night," she said, handing him the bottle to open.
"Right you are, Ms Smith." He popped the cork and poured it into the flutes she held up, then set it aside and took one from her. "Have a toast in mind?"
She took a deep breath, then let it out with a laugh. "No idea. Do we have to have one?"
"Absolutely not," he replied, sipping at his glass pointedly. "We can just enjoy champagne in evening breeze."
"There ya go," she said, taking a drink from her own glass. She leaned on the railing, and he returned to his former position beside her. "I wanna thank you for this. It's been...a lot of fun." She flashed a smile at him before turning back to the waves. "I don't think I've been on any sort of vacation since my honeymoon. We went to Venice. Rode in a gondola, didn't get sick."
James dropped his head to his chest with a snort, then raised it again to nod a little, accepting the mild ribbing. "Yeah, well. You've got me there."
"Yes, I have," she agreed with a laugh. She took another drink from her glass. "So...um, how do you know so much about hermit crabs?"
"I looked it up," he said with a shrug. "We were coming out here, so I figured I'd gather some intel for Ian before we left."
"You just...looked it up," she said, mirroring his shrug, and he arched an eyebrow at her. "Oh my god...you're one of those people that can go online for the price of milk and end up reading about the...mating habits of gophers six hours later."
"I'm not entirely sure how I'd get from the price of milk to gopher romance," he said slowly, "or why I'd be looking up the price of milk in the first place, but yeah, that sounds about right."
She laughed again at his grin, she shook her head with a sigh. "Suppose I couldn't ask for a better tutor for Ian, though."
"Right," he said after a beat, taking another drink as he returned his gaze to the water and trying not to let the tutor distinction get to him-and failing.
He berated himself silently, not yet ready to concede Donna's point about having feelings for Rose. He'd gotten over that, he'd forced himself to, because it was never gonna happen. It was just the...holiday atmosphere, the insanely domestic feel of the three of them together. The woman who'd told him yesterday that he had a beautiful family when he'd picked up ice cream cones for the three of them hadn't helped. But they were friends, that's all. It was just that mentioning him as the tutor seemed like a backslide from that is all.
Right. That was all.
"You alright?" she asked suddenly, breaking into his thoughts with a nudge of her shoulder against his arm.
"Hmm?" He made a grab at his wayward musings, pulling them back into some sort of order. "Oh, yeah, fine. Just...tired. And have to drive tomorrow, since someone refuses to learn."
"All I said was that I don't want to be responsible for leaving bits of poor Bessie's transmission all over the motorway," she protested, and he hummed doubtfully at her. She rolled her eyes and drained her glass. "Well, in that case, I should let you get to bed. Don't want a grumpy driver in the morning."
"Oh, that's nice," he said, following suit as she straightened. "Very rich, you calling me grumpy in the morning."
Her laughter rang out again, a sound like tinkling bells that eased the tightness that had started in his chest. "Yeah, alright." She paused, biting her lip for a moment. "Thanks again, James. I had a...really great time."
"Me too," he said with a small smile.
She seemed to hesitate again, then leaned up, her hands on his waist to steady herself as she kissed his cheek, soft and lingering. He froze, completely at a loss for how to react as she pulled away from his cheek but stayed close, tantalizingly close, both their heads bowed and centimeters apart.
A finger under her chin would lift her face to his, and the distance he'd have to close to press his lips to hers would be infinitesimally small. His hand would move to her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands with ease, and his free arm would slip around her waist to pull her closer as he angled her head to deepen the kiss. Her tongue would slide over his as she opened her mouth, her small hands skimming up his chest before looping her arms around his neck-
"Good night, James," she murmured, and he swallowed hard as she stepped away, not dropping her hands until the last moment.
"Good night, Rose," he answered, his voice still a little thick as she turned away.
He drained his glass when the door closed behind, then let out a long breath.
He really hated when Donna was right.