A/N The Doctor learns what Rose was up to while out, and he isn't necessarily happy with the news.

Chapter 21

Having followed directly after her to the kitchen, the Doctor came up behind Rose as she filled the kettle at the sink. Over an hour spent in anxious wondering over where Rose was and whether she was alright had left him wound more than a little tight. The demanding tone in his voice persisted as he questioned her again. "I think I deserve more of an answer than 'out.' Where have you been, Rose?"

Rose spun back around to face him, feeling a little dizzy in the process but not letting on. She didn't want to give him one more reason to treat her like she was made of glass. "You deserve an answer? Look, Dr. Smith, I'm sorry I'm late for our session, but I wasn't aware that I had to report my every move to you and first get your approval. I'm a grown woman – over twenty-one. Or have you forgotten that?" she challenged. "Maybe I'm not the only one with memory loss."

The Doctor wasn't backing down. "This has nothing to do with your age, Rose. This has to do with your health. And if you're not able to act more responsibly concerning your health, then apparently your actions do need my approval."

Oh, that did it. If his ridiculous overreaction wasn't enough, then his superior attitude just pushed her temper over the edge. "You might be my doctor, but you are not my parent or my decision maker. Why should it even concern you so much anyway?" she prodded, wanting to get more of an answer from him since he apparently thought he had a right to more answers from her. She pushed him just a little further. "Or are you just worried about your little project – your test case?"

The tension ran through the Doctor's body as his hands clenched at his sides. He hated this. Hated the pretense of professional distance in a moment when he wanted to claim his rights as her partner in every sense of the word. "You are not just a test case to me, Rose," he let spill out.

Rose stilled, their eyes remaining locked. The adrenaline running through her from this confrontation gave her the boldness to take that statement and prod further. "Then what exactly am I to you?" she pressed. "Tell me."

The Doctor's chest constricted. She was his wife, his bond mate, the mother of his child; yet she had to ask what she even was to him. And he couldn't say. The Doctor couldn't let her see into his eyes as he answered. He dropped his gaze to the floor as he replied to the tops of his trainers and tried not to choke on the words. "You're my patient."

"I'm your patient," Rose repeated tonelessly. Despite the heated moment and her present agitation, there was a part of her that had hoped, secretly desired deep inside that maybe, just maybe, it was possible he felt something more. His current actions, even if what could possibly be called passion manifested itself in anger, led her to momentarily think that maybe his feelings towards her did go beyond just that of her doctor. But that was nothing more than a foolish fantasy. Well, Rose was done fantasizing, and she was also done feeling like nothing but an ill patient. Yet even if she was no more than a patient, she still had rights and a free will, and this man had no call to think he could assume control over her like this. Rose's ire flared once more as she spoke indignantly. "I'm your patient and not your...possession. And I'm tired of being treated like there's something wrong with me. I'm fine now, and I'll do what I bloody well please without needing permission from you!"

The Doctor's eyes instantly lifted and fixed firmly to hers as he took a step closer. He wasn't about to just let this drop and risk her doing it again. "You are not fine, Rose. You're still recovering and you need to be careful! In case you weren't aware, healing from a brain injury is not like recovering from the flu. Just what were you thinking in leaving like that? Did you even give any thought whatsoever about how others might worry or how you could be putting yourself at risk? Leaving without so much as telling anyone where you were was foolish and irresponsible and..." The Doctor stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with Rose. He'd just been so worried about her and his emotions were on edge, but he didn't want to upset her by coming across as harsh, as he was now bordering on.

Apparently he had stopped himself just a little too late. Rose's face crumpled before him and she suddenly broke down into tears. The Doctor felt stricken. Forgetting their supposed doctor/patient association and focusing only on their Doctor/Rose relationship, he moved forward and gathered her in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Shhh. There now, it's okay."

Rose was stiff in his arms. She wanted to slap him, not cling to him. But she suddenly found herself doing just that as her hands came up and fisted in his jacket and she buried her face into his chest. She felt so confused. She was so angry, and the last thing she wanted to do right now was cry pathetically. So why couldn't she seem to stop herself?

Rose was currently furious with this man. The minute she walked in the door, he started making demands of her whereabouts, accusing her of being careless, and acting as if she needed his written permission to even leave the flat. Just who did this Dr. John Smith think he was, anyway? He might have been a caring physician this past week, but this current, dictatorial behavior should have her kicking his bum to the curb.

Just because he was now holding her in his arms, Rose told herself she was not giving in to the sensation the embrace stirred within her. She was only his patient, after all. She would not lose herself in his scent – a scent which left her feeling like it was as necessary to her lungs as oxygen. She would ignore how his body, though for some reason cool, inexplicably warmed her to the core. And she most definitely would not continue crying when what she wanted to do was yell.

Rose finally pushed back from his chest, her breath hitching as she swiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks and fought to speak. "'I'm...I'm not really crying. I'm m-mad. So mad at you. You...you git!"

Despite the tension of the situation, the Doctor found himself having to fight very hard to hide the slight smile that was now threatening to show itself on his face. Rose's hormones were apparently getting the better of her and making her cry when she wanted to rage at him.

He took an appeasing step back and held up his hands. "I know. And you have every right to be mad. I was just concerned for you, Rose. I don't want to control you; I just want you well and safe. But my reaction and the way I spoke to you was out of line."

Rose shook her head, the tears abating. "Oh, you're supposed to give me a reason to yell – not agree with me and take away the chance!"

The Doctor stood in silence, assessing the best way to respond without causing further emotional swings. But then her lips twitched in the faintest of smiles, and he couldn't hold back his own. "Was that a smile?"

"No."

He moved a little closer. "That was a smile."

"No, it wasn't."

They both froze. The Doctor wasn't sure if Rose was having a flash of a past memory, but he certainly was.

As another second passed, it became clear exactly what Rose was having a flash of. Her face turned white as her hand flew up to her mouth. Rose spun around and hastily made her way to the rubbish bin where she began to heave the contents of her stomach.

The Doctor reached her in a few short strides. He gathered her hair and held it at the nape of her neck, keeping it back from her face as his other hand stroked soothingly up and down her back. Rose's stomach continued to spasm. She retched until her throat burned and her stomach muscles were throbbing. Coughing and finally catching her breath, the Doctor helped her to the sink where she splashed water on her face and rinsed the bile from her mouth.

"Better?" he asked softly, his eyes sympathetic as he handed her a dish towel and she patted her face dry. Rose nodded. He then guided her into the living room to sit on the couch.

Rose hated this. She was trying to make the point that she was well, then this had to suddenly happen – again. "Don't think this proves your point," she managed, her throat feeling raw. Rose might have lost her breakfast but not her stubbornness.

"I wasn't going to try to use that against you," he said gently, his tone dissipating any residual anger. "The nausea is still to be expected and not a cause for alarm." As terribly unpleasant as it was for her, he knew Rose's sickness was nothing out of the ordinary...considering.

"I might still have some leftover sickness from all this, but I know I'm mostly well now. Well enough to stop being treated like I'm not. Please, just let me live my life like I'm normal again." Her eyes pleaded with him as she spoke.

"You're right," he conceded. "Maybe I have been overly cautious. I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you can't live your life. I just want what's best for you. But of course I want you to be happy, too. If spending more time out is what you want, then...I won't try to stop you."

Rose was encouraged by his apparent change in attitude. She was about to put it to the test. "Good. And since you're now being sensible, I'll tell you where I was this morning." She was a little hesitant to tell him but also proud that she had accomplished her goal. "I went and got a job."

Okay, so much for being sensible. The Doctor was willing to consent to letting Rose have some time on her own if she wished; but working all day, in her condition, without him being able to monitor her? That was pushing it too far. Rose could see the objections beginning to rise as his mouth parted, just as her mum came from the bedroom back into the living room.

Rose quickly directed her attention to Jackie, cutting off any response from the Doctor. "Mum!" she greeted brightly. "I was just telling the Doctor that I found a job today."

Jackie halted her steps, looking warily to the Doctor and back to Rose.

Rose's shoulders slumped. "Oh, not you, too. Can't either of you see I'm well enough to get back to living my life?"

Jackie moved closer. "Of course you're getting better, sweetheart. I just don't want you to try to do too much too soon."

"Your mum's right," the Doctor quickly interjected. "You should listen to your mother. Always listen to a mother's advice. They are right 99.98% of the time."

"Oh, of course you would say that, since she's on your side," Rose muttered.

"Maybe Rose is right, though," Jackie reconsidered, now falling (not for the first time) into the Doctor's .02% category of being utterly wrong. The Doctor turned a blazing look on her, which she completely ignored. The Oncoming Storm might carry weight throughout the farthest reaches of the galaxy, but in her flat Jackie yielded to no one if she thought she was right. "Maybe gettin' back to doing some normal things is what Rose needs. She can't spend every day shut up in here."

"Thank you," Rose sighed in relief.

"But think about her condition, Jackie," the Doctor spoke through clenched teeth as he stood from the couch.

"I am thinkin' about her condition, Doctor. Which isn't bein' improved none by making her feel like she can't live normally."

Rose stood up between them both. "Um, excuse me, but she with the condition is standin' right here. I'd appreciate being talked to, not about. And really, this decision isn't even up to either of you."

The Doctor was about to say something to the contrary, but paused, remembering where that had gotten him before.

Rose's stance and her features softened. "Look, I appreciate how both of you have been caring for me. Mum, you've hardly even had any time to yourself for staying at the flat to be with me all day every day, and I'm thankful to you for that. I really am. And Doctor, I know you only want what's best for me, too. I've never known a doctor to...to care so much for his patient. But I'm tired of just being a patient. I want to be me. I've already lost part of who I am. Please don't try to take this from me, too."

The Doctor sighed inwardly as his posture sagged. He knew it was pointless to fight her on this. "Just...just promise me you won't try to push yourself too hard. That if you feel tired or strained or unwell you'll stop."

Rose brightened. "I will. But I'm not gonna be trainin' for the Olympics – I'll just be working in a shop. I got my old job back at Henrik's. And I'm only gonna be working part-time to start with. Just three days a week."

With that sorted, Rose became aware again that her throat was still burning and she needed a few soothing sips of the tea she'd not had the chance to finish preparing. She went to head for the kitchen, but turned back to add conversationally, "Did you know there was an explosion there a few years back? They had to rebuild."

Jackie looked pointedly at the Doctor with a lifted brow, then turned to accompany Rose to the kitchen. The Doctor flopped back down onto the couch. He knew he had blown up that shop for a good reason, and he was contemplating doing it again. Either that or he was now going to become Henrik's best customer in order to keep a watchful eye on his pregnant, tenacious wife.