A/N: And now I have a problem. I'm blocked! The transition from the end of this chapter is bothering me. After I edited this, I basically stared at the tablet for an hour, then wrote a paragraph, erased it, wrote something else, deleted that, and now I'm staring again. I think I know where I'm headed, I just can't seem to get there from the end of this chapter! :::FRUSTRATED:::
To Martha's relief and consternation, John and Rose slipped right back into the relationship they shared before their disagreement. Once again they were inseparable, so much so that she began to wonder why they bothered with separate trailers when they were at work. This made it easier to keep tabs on them, but it also annoyed Martha to no end.
The production was proceeding swimmingly. For the first time since this whole debacle started, Martha actually began considering the fact that the Doctor might actually be forever a part of mankind's cinematic history. She nearly laughed at loud at that thought, more because of the reaction the Doctor was sure to have once this was all over.
Speaking of over, Martha wondered what would be in store once this wrapped. Would the TARDIS come up with another role? Would enough time had passed that the Family were no longer a threat? Would Rose get sick of John and leave him, heartbroken and lonely, seeking Martha for comfort? A girl could dream couldn't she?
The Family, of course, was a very real variable. It had been two weeks since the strange green meteor sighting. Two weeks since the watches seemed to spontaneously open, practically begging for the Family to find them. But as of yet, no danger seemed imminent. Martha knew better than to drop her guard, but she was beginning to have hope that they might all come out of this adventure unscathed. For once, everyone would live.
The only aberration, if one could call it that, was Joan. She started appearing on set over the last week. She explained that she wanted to see how everything was turning out, which was normal enough, but as time wore on, Joan acted more and more strangely. Martha chalked it up to a reaction to the meds she must be on. She had a cast on her injured leg, which must be causing her some pain. She hobbled in a funny way and her mannerisms were odd. But the strangest of all was the way she seemed to sniff continuously.
She seemed to always be following Martha around too. She was probably looking for a new agent. Joan wasn't totally green, but John Smith's name was written in star light. Working with his agent was bound to open up possibilities. Poor thing had no way of knowing that this was all a ruse. Martha actually felt a little badly for her.
She was concerned for her health too, and would have asked to see her prescriptions, maybe suggested a different type of therapy, but Martha was posing as an agent, and would probably arouse suspicion if she suddenly developed a working knowledge of medicine. Besides, Joan was harmless. Her leg would heal eventually, and with that she'd go back to normal.
x13x
Filming itself would be over soon. There were only a few scenes actually left to be shot. Then it would be months of cutting and special effects editing, and then, finally, release. Overall, Rose was really enjoying herself. She fell into the role effortlessly, worked hard, stayed late, arrived early, and none of it felt like a job. She also really liked John, well, more than liked John. Since starting over, but not starting over, they really got close, really became friends. If anyone had asked, she'd probably say he was her best mate. She felt like she could tell him anything. Well, almost anything.
Rose had a secret.
She was having distinctly unfriendly thoughts toward John.
It was more than that though. She was falling in love with him.
This love was different than the childish feelings she had for Jimmy Stone. Looking back now she doesn't understand how she could have ever thought that what she felt then was love. It was rebellion and lust and opportunity and excitement.
This was an almost all consuming need and a knowledge that she was just better at being herself when she was with him. It was confidence and support. Belonging. And yeah, okay, a healthy does of hunger for him.
But she couldn't, wouldn't act on those feelings. Their friendship was too important to her to risk on the chance of more. This would be enough for her. It would have to be.
Besides, he never gave any indication that he felt even remotely the same way. And given his well known aversion to anything even casually romantic, Rose just figured she'd suffer along in silence and be his best friend.
This was all well and good except that the last scene they were going to film together was the kiss.
There was just no way Rose was going to be able to handle it.
It wasn't the kiss itself, that wasn't a problem. In fact, she was quite sure it would be completely believable. She wouldn't be acting after all. The issue was that he would be.
And, of course, it wouldn't be just one kiss. Nothing in the movies ever happened just once.
There would be take after take of looking into his eyes as he slowly dropped his lips to hers. This would be Belle's first kiss, the first physical touch of love to her body. She'd be shy. Scared, yet excited. He'd tentatively press against her mouth, waiting for her to open for him. Should would, slowly, after the urge to meld into him became too strong. Relief would wash over her as they finally, finally, came together. He'd pull her closer to him, pressing her into his body, too overwhelmed to think about how his grip could be too tight.
Even thinking about it made her flush.
How many times would they have to repeat it? How many times before he figured out her secret?
It was going to destroy her.
She was starting to be nervous and jittery around John and it didn't go unnoticed.
"What's bothering you, Rose?" He was concerned for her.
"Bothering me? Oh, nothing... I'm all right." She winced a little at her choice of words.
John looked a little hurt, "Come on Rose, I know you. I can tell when something is wrong. We're friends, good friends, you can talk to me about anything. You know that!"
'Not about this,' she thought, almost praying she didn't say it out loud. Lately it was as if John could read her mind, keeping things to herself was becoming more and more difficult. Most of the time she liked the intimacy of it. He understood her implicitly and it was comforting, but in this case, she almost resented his perception. She had to tell him something though.
"I guess I'm just nervous about shooting the last scenes." There, not far from the truth, but not the whole of it either. She looked up at him and he seemed to be satisfied with her explanation.
He slung his arm around her shoulders, "It's understandable. It is a new experience for you, but the hard stuff is done. You know your lines, you know the cues." Her anxiety flowed over him, she was tense, which was uncommon for her. He moved to stand in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, it's going to be fine. I'm going to be right there with you."
She looked up at him and into his eyes, desperately trying not to give herself away. "I know, and I'm glad."
x13x
