A/N: I don't like this chapter. I changed a lot of it as I was editing and I still can't make it sit right with me. But I have to just move on from it or I'll never get through to the next chapter. I've gotten some notes and reviews saying not to apologize, but in this case I think I need to. I honestly hope you guys like it better than I do right now.

Nervous didn't even begin to describe what Rose was feeling as she walked through the hallways of the castle. In a sense it helped her get into her role of Belle, who was going into forbidden territory to satisfy her curiosity about the Beast and his home.

She had just slipped her guides and was making her way to the Beast's private quarters. The castle was really majestic and she didn't have to pretend to be in awe of the architecture. It even really felt forbidden to Rose, all this made her slip into the character more easily. It didn't make her anxiety about running into John lessen though.

She knew that John was hidden in the darkness of his chambers. She knew that he was supposed to find her there as she explored and be angry, very angry. Knowing and experiencing it would be two very different situations though. Rose knew she wasn't going to be able to separate John from the Beast, and the impending confrontation had her on edge.

It wouldn't be long now. She had entered his inner sanctum. She turned slowly around as she walked through the room, taking in all of the artifacts strewn about. She stopped when she noticed a picture, torn and tattered, but still hanging, crookedly on the wall.

With great care, she examined the painting. Rose knew it was a likeness of John without his costume on, meant to have been done before Adam was cursed. The script told her to try to piece the picture together, focusing on his eyes. Rose found herself transfixed by the portrait. Whoever or whatever made it, captured something in John's eyes that pulled at her. She moved closer.

A sound from the crew brought her back to the scene and reminded her that she had yet to 'discover' the rose. Tearing herself away, she approached the small table with the glass encased rose set on top of it. The rose itself would be added through special effects later, right now the glass was empty. She took a a deep breath to calm her nerves, which didn't help much. She knew John was somewhere close behind her, and the deep breath she took allowed her to pull his scent into her. She closed her eyes, briefly losing herself it.

Steadying herself, she reached out and carefully removed the glass from the table, trying to ensure that she lifted it high enough to allow for the rose effect to be put in undisturbed, and set it down on the floor. Now for the moment of truth, carefully, she reached forward-

John leapt out from behind her with rage in his eyes. She stepped back abruptly and lost her footing. She crashed to the floor and knocked the rose enclosure over. It rolled out of the scene to a stop at JJ's feet.

Someone yelled "Cut!" and the crew moved to reset the scene.

"Are you all right?" John came over to Rose and knelt beside her. He reached out to touch her arm, to help her sit up.

Rose, expecting discomfort at being touched, made to move out of his reach but didn't quite accomplish it. His fingers brushed gently down her arm and her breath whooshed out of her. The feeling caught her by surprise.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"No I..." She looked into his eyes. The fury had left. Now she saw pain there and something else. Something like... longing... It stole her breath and all other thoughts fled. The world narrowed to him and her, everything else fell away.

"Rose, are you all right?"

Rose jumped at the sound of JJ's voice and nearly missed John's eyes closing with a look something like regret in them. "John?" She called to him as he stood and moved away from her. He didn't turn back, just went back to his 'hiding' place to start the scene again, and if she didn't know better she would swear he was almost brooding.

Rose was frustrated with herself. She was so tied in knots about a possible confrontation with John that it was affecting her ability to perform as Belle. She was quite literally falling all over herself.

JJ called again to ask if she was hurt, she was still lying on the floor where she had fallen. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just need a mo."

"All right then, everyone take five."

x13x

John was grateful for the break. He needed to get away from Rose to regain his composure. Being near her was driving him spare, and the fact that she had been spending time with JJ was eating him alive.

He had no right. Absolutely no right to feel the way he did. He practically banished her from his company and now was jealous that she spent time with someone else. But why did it have to be JJ? Why did it have to happen right in front of him?

He had scared her today. Jumping out at her, looking the way he had. He knew that, in a way, he wasn't acting. Some of that rage was real, and really directed at her. Something about her had gotten under his skin, and now that she didn't want anything to do with him, he felt like an addict denied his fix.

But there was a moment. After the taping had ceased, she was on the floor where she had fallen, and the concern he felt for her was so consuming that it broke through his rage and melted him. He was at her side before his brain really registered what had happened. He reached for her, intending to pull her into his arms, but she flinched away from his fingers, her breath leaving her.

He had hurt her again! It was becoming too much to bear. He thought he asked if she was all right, but he couldn't be sure. Emotions were piling themselves on top of each other and things were becoming confused. He was finding it difficult to hide everything that was running through him. Pain, guilt, want, all of it crashing down on him, all centered on her.

And then, JJ's voice called out, breaking him. In that moment, like a flash of lightening, one thing became clear.

He loved Rose Tyler.

He had to escape. He had to run. There was no way he could continue now, not after finally realizing, finally admitting to himself what all of this insanity was. The call for a recess was a godsend.

He practically sprinted from the set, running through Martha in his haste. He barely paused to acknowledge her existence, she yelled at him, calling him a prat and asking what had gotten into him. He ignored her and stayed his course, hoping against hope that he could find some solace in his dressing room.

x13x