Chapter Forty-Four—London, 6 October, 2007

John slowly awoke with his arm around Rose (her back to his front, their fingers laced together and resting on her belly, his stiff cock nestled between the perfect globes of her arse) completely convinced that there was no finer way of waking up in the morning and that he wanted to wake up this way every day for the rest of his life.

And was also just as convinced that it wouldn't last. Nothing as good as this ever did.

But she was here now. In his arms and in his bed. And he thanked the entire pantheon for every day he woke up like this.

John tightened his arm around her, burying his face in her soft hair. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her warm skin. He was unable to stifle a sigh of contentment.

At the sound, Rose began to stir. She yawned and stretched before turning over in his arms. She smiled sleepily at him. No makeup, her face still slightly puffy from sleep, her hair a tangled mess—he thought she never looked lovelier.

"Morning." She gave him a kiss, just a brush of her lips against his, clearly intending it to be brief, but he held her in place and deepened it. With a sigh into his mouth, she melted into his arms and gave herself over to it.

And then, with a glance over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside table, she pushed him away.

"I'm late," she told him. She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the knots out of it. "Told Mum I'd be there half an hour ago. I'm amazed she hasn't called a dozen times by now." She gave him an apologetic smile as she jumped out of bed and grabbed her brush and a hair tie from the top of the chest of drawers.

John sat up. Disappointed, he watched as she ran the brush through her hair and pulled it up into a messy bun. She disappeared out the bedroom door. The shower turned on.

Despite his fears, it had been more than a month since he'd pulled the battery out of her phone, and nothing had happened. The world had not ended. The Doctor hadn't returned. Rose hadn't even noticed, probably hadn't even looked in the rucksack under the bed that held the phone and extra clothes and who knows what things that Rose considered vitally important enough to carry around but not important enough to look at for months at a time.

But even though nothing had happened, with every succeeding day John had become more and more convinced something was going to.

And soon.

Ever since her old mobile had turned back on, he'd been certain that a storm was coming, that it was only a matter of time before Rose left. Rose's Doctor would come back and she'd go off with him. And even if the man never returned, someday she'd wake up and finally realize she deserved better than a gruff, abrasive auto mechanic old enough to be her father. Either way, she'd leave John behind.

He had to do something to stop it somehow.

Taking the battery out of her mobile probably hadn't done any good. At the most, it would only postpone the inevitable. Certainly Doctor James McCrimmon knew where she lived, or at least where Jackie lived. It would only take a matter of minutes before he could find Rose's current location and new mobile number. No, taking out the battery was no more than a symbol of defiance, a thumbing of his nose at the universe at large and at the man he had to admit (to himself at least, if not anyone else) he was so jealous of.

But it sure felt good.

The water shut off. Within moments, Rose returned to the bedroom, letting down her hair. If there were anything more beautiful on planet Earth than Rose Tyler in the nude, he'd never seen it.

A stray droplet of water that had evidently escaped toweling off slowly traced a path downward from her neck to her collarbone. As he watched, it rounded the curve of her breast before disappearing. His cock, still half hard, stirred.

He held out a hand to her.

"Come back to bed," he said in a low voice.

"But I was going to…" she began.

"It can wait."

Biting her lip, she slowly closed the distance between them.

"But I thought you needed to do some repairs on the Estate today," she said.

"That can wait, too."

Taking her hand, he pulled her back to sit next to him on the bed.

For a moment, he just stared at her, taking her in—her soft blonde hair, her wide brown eyes, her full pink lips—trying to commit this moment to memory, knowing that no matter how many times they might make love in the future, this moment would never come again.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered. "You're just so beautiful."

She smiled. "So are you."

"Daft, you are," he answered. "Absolutely blind and daft."

Brushing her hair from her face, he allowed his fingertips to linger on her temple before cupping her face in his hand. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, her mouth softening under his onslaught. They kissed, slowly, leisurely, lips and tongues caressing as he lowered her backwards onto the bed.

He made love to her slowly, thoroughly, worshipping every inch of her with his hands and his mouth, tracing the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue and working lower, down the column of her throat, to shoulder and collarbone and the swell of the top of her breasts.

Resting his weight on his elbow, he moved downward to capture one taut nipple between his lips. While he sucked gently, he moved his other hand to the opposite breast, as always marveling at its softness and how well it fit in his hand.

She sighed, making a sound of contentment, but her contentment wasn't what he was after. As he tenderly squeezed the nipple in his hand, he gently sucked on its twin, reveling in the feel of its pebbled tip on his tongue before gently scraping it with his teeth. He sucked harder, eliciting a moan.

She shifted underneath him, spreading her legs and tilting her hips upwards, seeking the pressure of skin on skin. Shifting his weight to his opposite arm, he settled between her thighs. He felt the moist warmth of her core on his belly as she wantonly rubbed against him. Desire, always present around her, flared like a supernova.

He closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly, bringing himself under control and fighting the almost overwhelming urge to plunge himself into her. He was determined to make this last.

From her breast, his hand traced a path downward, along her ribs and her slim waist, to finally caress the curve of her bottom. His lips followed, placing open-mouthed kisses down her belly to her hip.

Moving to his knees, he met her eyes. His fingers drew circles on her thighs, moving slowly inward. "What is your pleasure?"

She licked her lips. "I want…"

"What do you want, Rose Tyler?"

"I want you."

He smiled at her. "That you already have."

His fingers reached her outer folds and he traced the edge before moving inward. She reached for him again, and he shook his head.

"Later," he said again.

One fingertip dipped into her center, gathering moisture, then began to draw circles around her clit, each circle smaller than the last. She trembled underneath him.

"Yes," she said, answering a question he hadn't asked.

Finally reaching the center, his fingers gently caressed the delicate nub, and then moved lower, his finger dipping inside to find the sensitive spot on her inner walls while his thumb continued to stroke her clit. A second finger joined the first, then a third.

When her breath quickened, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue tracing a path around her inner folds before moving inside.

"No," she said breathlessly. He looked up and met her eyes. "I need you in me. Now."

"Your wish is my command," he said. Placing a final kiss on her mound, he moved back upwards, covering her body with his. She took his face in her hands, pulling her down to him, and he kissed her slowly, deeply, his tongue teasing hers in an intimate dance, a promise of what was to come.

Finally she broke away, and with one small hand reached between them. She grasped him firmly and stroked him once, twice. He groaned, catching her hand in his and moving it away.

"Do that again and this'll be over before it starts," he said wryly. It was an exaggeration, but only just.

She grinned at him cheekily, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

God, he loved that smile.

God, he loved her.

She reached a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss…

while he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside her.

Oh, she felt so good. So hot. So wet. So tight.

Resting his weight on one elbow, he dropped his forehead to hers and with one hand, caressed her temple. He pulled back, almost all the way out, and then pressed back in. And again. And again. Oh, so good.

Rose wrapped her arms around his chest, one hand straying down to his arse. She squeezed.

"Fantastic," he breathed.

She shifted, wrapping her legs around his hips. She kissed his shoulder.

Even though he didn't remember his past, didn't even rightly know who he was, somehow making love to her, her arms and legs wrapped around him holding him close, felt like coming home.

Tears sprang to his eyes as something deep within him broke. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he plunged into her, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, again and again and again…

She cried out as she shattered, neck arched and head thrown back in ecstasy. Her inner walls tightly gripped him, pulling him over the edge with her. He shouted her name as he came, emptying himself deep within her, his orgasm pounding powerfully through his entire body.

Trying to catch his breath, he moved to roll off her, but she held him in place, and he did his best to rest as much of his weight as possible on his elbows.

Gradually his heart rate slowed. His lips found her mouth and he kissed her, slow and lingering. When she needed to breathe, he moved to kiss her face, her temples, her hair.

He knew this was the wrong time. He was pushing his advantage, with her still under him, breathless and sated, his lips at her throat, his cock still buried deep within her.

But he didn't care. He needed every advantage he could get.

He could be a right bastard.

He rolled over, pulling her with him. She snuggled into his side, tucked neatly under his arm, her head resting on his shoulder.

He moved onto his side to face her.

"Stay," he said.

"Okay," she said, cuddling closer to him. "I'll just call Mum…"

"No," he interrupted. "I want you to stay. Here. With me."

"I don't understand."

He sat up and took a deep breath, steeling himself for a conversation that he wasn't sure how would end. Rose sat up and faced him.

"You've left before," he said. "With that Doctor of yours. I just… it's just… well, if he ever comes back and he wants you to go with him again, I'm asking you to stay here. With me."

Rose stared at him, a look of shock on her face. "Wha… but… Where is this coming from?"

He didn't respond immediately, searching his brain for an answer she'd accept. Telling her the truth was out of the question. Telling her the truth would mean he'd have to tell her her mobile had suddenly come back on (which would mean he'd have to admit he'd hidden the information from her and covered it up by removing and discarding its battery), and admit to the anxiety he felt whenever she disappeared on their lunch hour (something she continued to do a couple of times a week), and to the jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about her Doctor (which happened daily), who by his reckoning had only been gone for about three months.

Instead he decided his best course of action was to avoid the question entirely.

"Hear me out. What we have is good. Really good. And I don't ever want to lose it."

"You're not… I wasn't…" she began. "How could you… You don't even know who you are."

He could tell she was grasping at straws.

"Rose, I may not remember who I am, but I know what I'm about and I know what I want. And what I want is you. What I want is this," he told her, gesturing between them.

Resting her elbows on her knees, Rose dropped her head into her hands. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Yes, I do. But you don't want to," he said slowly. "Is it me?"

She scoffed. "Of course not."

"It's too soon, then. You're not ready. That's it, isn't it? I'm pushing too far too fast."

"No, it's not that," she told him.

"Is it the age difference?"

Her face still buried in her hands, she let out a laugh that held a tinge of hysteria. She shook her head vehemently.

"Then what is it, love?"

Her head snapped up. She stared at him wide-eyed. He got the sense that something important had just happened, but for the life of him he had no idea what it was.

"What?" he asked again.

"It's just, well, I know it doesn't mean anything, it's just something people say, yeah? I mean, people say it all the time and they don't mean anything by it at all. It's like… I dunno, hello or something. People say it every day, right? But it's just you've never said it before, not to me at any rate, and I was just startled, yeah?"

He stared at her blankly. "Rose, love, you're not making any sense."

She swallowed nervously. "You, uh, you just did it again."

"Did what again?"

She cleared her throat. "Uh… you, uh, called me love." She bit her lip nervously. "You've never done that before."

"I haven't?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. And believe me, I'd've remembered that."

He gaped at her. "But I thought… I was sure… but all this time…"

"Now you're the one not making any sense," she told him carefully. "You were sure what?"

"I was sure you knew."

"Sure I knew what?"

"That I love you."

Her hands flew to her mouth.

"I love you, Rose Tyler," he said earnestly.

For a moment there was silence as they stared at one another.

And then she whispered…

"I love you, too."

"Then you'll stay?"

She hesitated long enough that a hard knot of dread began to settle in the pit of his stomach.

Then she said, "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

A wave of relief washed over him. He gave her a huge grin.

"Good," he said. "Because I want you to stay forever."

~oOo~

It was late morning when they finally decided they couldn't put off the day's commitments any longer. John headed off to do repairs around the Estate while Rose finally returned the dozen or so calls they'd ignored from her mum, promising she'd be over in a matter of minutes.

Still in a daze after her conversation with John, Rose absentmindedly tidied up their tiny flat before heading out to her mother's. As she opened the door to leave, she remembered to check The Cat's food and water. She closed the door and headed back to the kitchen.

Rose frowned as she looked at The Cat's food bowl. It was still full. She searched her memory for the last time she'd seen her. They'd been so busy lately. Not to mention The Cat had always come and gone on her own schedule. After a moment's thought, she realized it had been days, perhaps even a week, since she'd last seen her.

But she couldn't worry about that now, not with John's confession still fresh in her mind.

He loved her. Or at least he thought he did. And for the first time she'd admitted her feelings to him. But when she'd told him she loved him, she meant both of him. All of him. John and the Doctor. Both Doctors, she thought, slightly hysterically.

She held no misconceptions that John's feelings, whatever they were, were the same as the Doctor's. It was painfully obvious that they weren't. If nothing else, Reinette had proved that.

But still… John had told her he loved her.

She was still lost in her thoughts when she entered her mum's flat a few minutes later. As usual, her mother was on the phone.

Jackie glanced at her when she heard Rose enter.

"Got to go, Bev. Rose is here," her mum said, giving Rose a small wave. "No, I'm fine. I'll call you later."

"What was all that about?" Rose asked when Jackie rang off.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing for you to worry about. How's himself then?"

Rose joined Jackie in the living room at the back of the flat. With a heavy sigh, she dropped down onto the sofa. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" Jackie asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just John asked me to stay with him when the Doctor comes back."

Jackie sat down opposite her. "Are you going to?"

Rose sat up abruptly and stared at her mum in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? How'm I s'posed to do that?"

"Easy. When the Doctor comes back, you stay here with John instead of going with him."

"Seriously? How's that gonna work then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mum, they're the same person! You know that! When the Doctor sorts all this, John's gonna turn back into the Doctor."

"Does he have to? Seems he's happy enough right where he is. Certainly happier than that him ever was when he was the Doctor."

"What does that have to do with anything? He's not John. He's the Doctor. John doesn't really exist. And can you imagine the Doctor spending his whole life on the Estate, eating beans on toast and watching telly every night?"

"Oi, what's wrong with the Estate? Sometimes I think you think you're better than the rest of us, travelin' in that blue box of his," Jackie snapped. "Don't you forget where you come from. Sometimes I think it would've been better if you hadn't met him."

Rose slumped back on the sofa, all the fight draining out of her..

"Of course I don't think I'm better than you," she told her. "But there's more to life than accidentally getting pregnant like Susie or partying all the time like Shareen. Or ending up in a bad relationship like Rita." Inwardly she winced, thinking about what Rita had gone through with Chuck. She'd come so close to that herself with Jimmy.

"Not everyone here's like that, Rose."

"I know. Sometimes feels like it, though."

Rose fell into a thoughtful silence, allowing herself for a moment to imagine staying here on the Estate with John, impossible as it was. Would it really be so bad?

No, a little voice inside her head whispered. Traveling with the Doctor had never really been about the traveling. It had been about being with him. Making a difference with him. Couldn't they do that here, like they had when they'd helped deliver Abhirati's baby?

Maybe.

And John was the Doctor, deep down.

But unlike the Doctor, he loved her. He'd told her so himself.

But it was still wrong. The Doctor didn't belong here, even if he didn't remember he was the Doctor.

"Mum, if John doesn't turn back into the Doctor, then he can't go and meet me at Henrik's and he can't regenerate and turn into the other Doctor who brought me back to meet John. That would create a paradox. And believe me, the last thing we want is a paradox." She groaned and rubbed her temples. "Oh, I'm getting a headache."

"Seems to me if all this was gonna create a paradox, it would have done it already," said Jackie.

Rose furrowed her brow, wondering if by some miracle her mother had managed to hit on the truth. "I dunno. I don't know enough about paradoxes to tell one way or the other. The Doctor would know. But he's not here. And it doesn't matter anyway because when he comes back, John's gonna turn back into him."

"Rose, what if the Doctor doesn't ever come back?"

"Don't say that! Of course he's comin' back!"

"You don't know that, Rose. The life he leads, anything could happen."

"I don't even want to think about that."

"That's all I ever think about, every time you go off with him," Jackie told her. "Ever since that year you missed."

Rose felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Mum."

"I know. But it just goes to show that that man can't always control that box of his."

"It's the TARDIS, Mum," Rose corrected, for what felt like the millionth time. "And he did bring me back."

"Yeah. But who knows this time? After all, this time you're not with him. Doesn't need to bring you back, does he?"

Rose felt a moment of panic at the truth of her mother's words. Replaced almost immediately by a sense of jubilation.

"But he's got Mickey with him! And he needs to bring Mickey back! He told me that that's how I'd know he'd be back, because he'd never want to travel with Mickey full time!"

"Now that I can believe," Jackie told her.

Like a teakettle boiling over, laughter bubbled up between them, a much needed release of the tension of the conversation and at the ludicrousness of it all: at time machines that looked like blue boxes and time traveling aliens turning human and living on the Estate. And particularly at the idea of the Doctor and Mickey traveling together permanently.

After the hilarity died down, Jackie grew serious.

"Rose, tell me this. Do you love him? Oh, I know you love the Doctor. No, don't give me that look. You've been infatuated with him ever since the two of you met. But do you love John?"

"Yes," Rose admitted in a small voice.

"Does he love you?"

"John says he does."

"What about the Doctor?"

Rose hesitated, then shook her head.

"Oh, Rose, I'm sorry," Jackie said sympathetically. "But if John really loves you, don't give that up. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that love, real love, doesn't come around very often. And when you've got it, you've gotta do whatever it takes to hang on to it as long as you can."

Suddenly Rose got the impression that her mother was talking about far more than Rose's relationship with John. And for the first time since she'd arrived at the flat that day, she noticed that her mum's eyes were red-rimmed.

"Mum, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Mum, don't lie to me. You've been crying. What happened?"

Jackie hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Stuart asked me to marry him."

Rose stared at her wide-eyed. "What did you say?"

Jackie let out a sigh. "Oh, Rose, what do you think I said? I like Stuart. I like him a lot. But he's not your dad. There's never been anyone else and there's never gonna be anyone else for me. That's why I'm saying, if you've got love in your life, don't give it up. You've got to fight for it. Because it doesn't last forever, and you don't want to waste a single minute of it."