AN: Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day! In every one of my stories, there comes a point when it becomes obvious that I am a romance novelist by trade. We're at that point now.

Rose swayed on her feet and grabbed onto the balustrade to keep herself from falling over in her shock. Could James possibly be the Doctor?

The Doctor said he grew up in the Constellation, and that the Daleks burned his home down, along with most of the island, at the beginning of the war. She paced the balcony, her arms wrapped around her waist. That matched James' story about the destruction of his family home on Cadon almost exactly.

Another thought occurred to Rose, and she groaned. In that same conversation about the Doctor's past, he had said he'd chosen blue sails for the Tardis because it matched the colour of his family crest. At the time, she'd focused on the past tense verb, wanting to understand the source of the sorrow she sensed in him.

But really, Rose? You couldn't figure out from that comment that the Doctor must be a nobleman?

And why did he wear a mask? Pirates didn't usually care about protecting their identities, so clearly the Doctor was keeping something a secret.

The mask made it difficult to compare their appearance, but they were the same height and build. And their hands feel the same in mine.

Rose collapsed back into the chair, heedless of the fact that it was still slightly damp from the rains. And if they were the same person, that would explain why the Doctor had reacted so strangely when she'd denied a friendship with James, and why James had been so distant at the ball.

She smirked a little at the ridiculousness of James being jealous of himself. Then she started planning how she would tell the man she was falling in love with that she loved all of who he was.

oOoOoOoOo

The next morning after breakfast, Rose joined her mother in the small salon. Jackie had fully embraced the life of a lady of leisure and was working on her embroidery, while Rose continued in her attempts to paint the storms that had caught hold of her imagination.

"Did you enjoy your dance with Lord McCrimmon last night?"

Rose paused with her brush hovering an inch from the canvas and looked at her mother. Jackie's gaze was fixed on her stitching, but Rose doubts she was truly focused on it.

"Of course," she said airily, continuing to add shadows to the waves' deep troughs. "He is a superlative dancer."

"So were you dancing the whole time you were out in the gardens?"

Rose's brush slipped, leaving a wide streak of dark green across the waves. "Bollocks!" she muttered, staring at the ruined painting.

"Rose Tyler, watch your language!"

"I've heard you say worse." Rose set her brush down and stepped back to evaluate the damage.

"Well, but I'm not trying to catch the attention of a nobleman, am I? A lady should always…"

Footsteps coming toward them caught Lady Tyler's attention, and she abandoned her sentence in favour of watching the hallway through the open doorway.

James glanced into the room as the butler led him by, and Rose returned the smile he gave her.

"So, how did that dance go?"

Rose rolled her eyes at the amusement in her mother's voice, then turned to face her, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Well enough."

Jackie snorted. "Better than that, if he's come to talk to your father." She looked Rose up and down, then shook her head. "Go upstairs and take off that frock—it's covered in paint."

Her mother's new obsession with appearances confounded Rose, but she couldn't argue with this dictate. After dropping her brush in water to make sure paint didn't dry into the bristles, Rose hurried out of the room. With Sally's help, she was cleaned up and back downstairs in only ten minutes.

"Mum," Rose said as she sat down on the settee opposite Jackie, "why are you so keen on matching me with Lord McCrimmon?"

"I didn't think you minded."

"I don't! But you've pushed him at me from the day I met him." Rose rearranged her skirts. "I'm just curious."

Jackie sighed and set down her stitching. "I just want you to make a good match, Rose. Lord McCrimmon is the youngest unmarried nobleman around, and your father trusts him. He's a good, respectable man."

Rose was seized by a wild urge to laugh. If only her mother knew about James' other life! Thankfully, her father chose that moment to lead James into the room, distracting her mother long enough for Rose to conceal her laughter in a quiet cough.

"Jacks," Pete said, "you know Lord McCrimmon. James here has something he wants to discuss with Rose." Rose's father looked at her, then at James. "Why don't we leave them alone?"

James blinked at the suggestion, and he was even more surprised when Pete closed the door firmly behind them. Couples weren't often left alone together without a chaperone, but if Lord Tyler chose to defy convention in this manner, he certainly wasn't going to argue.

"Please sit down, my lord," Rose said, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. "I hear you have something you wish to discuss with me."

James made a quick decision and sat beside her, instead of taking the spot Lady Tyler had just vacated. "Do you know how much I love your smile?" he said conversationally, purposely ignoring the opening Rose had given him.

An adorable furrow creased her brow. "I don't think you've mentioned it."

"The tip of your tongue just barely peeks out of your mouth. It's teasing and a little torturous, I suppose, but I love it." He leaned toward her. "I'll think about your smile and that tongue every night I'm gone."

She raised an eyebrow in a move he was convinced was deliberately provocative. "Before I let you kiss me, was there something you wanted to say to me?"

James chuckled and took her hand. "Rose Tyler, I have come to care for you deeply. Would you do me the honour of allowing me to court you?"

"I will."

The tip of her tongue appeared again, and this time, James swooped down to capture it. Her startled gasp allowed him to slip his tongue into her mouth, and he placed a hand on the back of her neck to gently adjust the angle of the kiss.

Rose's tongue met his, tentatively at first, but with growing confidence. When the tip of it flicked over his bottom lip, James eased back enough to allow her to suck it into her mouth.

Kissing while sitting side by side on a settee was not the most comfortable position, and when James tugged at Rose's waist, she went willingly into his lap. He took advantage of their new closeness to drop his lips to her clavicle and suck lightly, but when Rose sank her hand into his hair and tugged, he pulled back with a pop and groaned loudly.

Rose smiled like a cat who got the cream. James watched through half-lidded eyes as she lowered her mouth to his Adam's apple, licking the spot first before sucking at it. He pressed his lips together to contain another groan, but he couldn't hold back a hiss of pleasure when her teeth grazed it.

A shiver ran trough him when she pulled back and dropped a line of soft kisses up his jaw. She scraped her nails over his scalp, and James bucked his hips helplessly in response. Rose moved her lips next to his ear and whispered, "Your hair is gorgeous. I can't tell you how many times I've dreamed about running my fingers through it."

The thought that she'd imagined touching him in any way at all sent a bolt of desire through James, and he moved his own hand into her hair and pulled her lips back to his for a searing kiss. This time, Rose's tongue met his stroke for stroke, control of the kiss shifting easily between them.

When James realised he was considering the best position for making love to Rose on the narrow settee, he sighed and gentled the kiss. The little whimper in the back of her throat nearly destroyed his resolve, but he managed to pull back.

The glazed passion in her eyes sparked a deep feeling of pride in James. She blinked a few times, then a coy smile spread across her face.

"I suppose we have once again reached the end of the established order of things."

James laughed and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "That we have," he agreed. He loosened his grip around her waist and let her shift off of his lap, then he stood up.

"I wish I could stay with you for the afternoon, but regretfully, I need to go home and finish making preparations for my journey."

Rose nodded and stood up. "I'll see you to the door."

They walked to the door in comfortable silence, their hands swinging between them. James didn't know who had taken whose hand, but the gesture was as natural as breathing.

When they reached the door, he turned to look down at her. "Until we meet again, Lady Rose," he said. Then he brought her hand up and brushed his lips over it.

"I didn't think it would be this difficult to say goodbye."

Her words tugged at his heart, but he tamped down the impulse to tell Jack he wasn't coming, to retire from piracy and just stay here with Rose. Aware that lingering was only making things more difficult, he opened the door and stepped outside.

Rose cast an appraising look at the sky. "Such a beautiful day after all those storms," she said. "I imagine tonight would be a wonderful night for a walk."

James blinked and stiffened slightly, but otherwise kept his surprise hidden. "You told us at dinner last week that you don't walk unprotected."

She looked at him then, smiling the smile he loved. "Oh, I don't."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was fairly certain James would be waiting for her at the base of the cliff, but it was still a relief to see his familiar figure when she turned the last corner on the path. She stopped for a moment to admire the way the damp black cotton shirt clung to his chest, then descended the remaining twenty feet to the beach.

"I'm glad to see you this evening, Rose," he said as he took her hand. The tide was out, leaving them a wide stretch of hard sand to walk on.

"Well, I wasn't sure you would still be on Arcadia," she lied, "but I couldn't things go the way they ended last time."

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic she recognised from James. "And I'm grateful for the chance to apologise," he said. "There's no excuse for my rudeness."

Rose laced her fingers through his and they started walking. It was tempting to make him sweat a little longer, or try to pry an explanation from him, but she wasn't ready yet to tell him she knew who he was, and he couldn't explain without giving that away.

"I forgive you." His fingers flexed slightly around hers. "And, as it happens, you were right about Lord McCrimmon. He spoke with my father today about courting me." Rose cast him a sideways glance. "I knew you were right the other day too, but I'm unaccustomed to talking about such things with… well, with anyone, really."

"Really?" he asked, and she could imagine his eyebrow lifting to match the teasing tone of his voice. "I thought women loved to discuss men and their relationships."

"I've never had the kind of female friends that I could share these kind of secrets with," Rose said quietly. "On Powell Isle, I had a few friends, but no relationships to speak of. In the Citadel, I had neither."

James seemed to catch onto her unwillingness to discuss her time in the Citadel, and they walked in silence for a few minutes.

A warm breeze blew over them, and Rose breathed deeply of the sea air. "I will miss these walks when you're gone."

"Does that mean you will promise me not to walk alone?"

Rose heaved a sigh. "Since everyone seems to share your opinion that the beach is a dangerous place after dark, I can't see that I have a choice." She looked up at him. "You must hurry back, so I am not confined to the mansion for the rest of my days."

He tipped his head back and laughed, and the expanse of his neck transfixed Rose. If there were enough light, she knew she'd be able to see the mark she'd left over his Adam's apple that afternoon.

"On my honour, Lady Rose, I will dispatch with my pillaging duties as quickly as possible so I may hurry back to your side."

She couldn't help it. She really couldn't. The words were so James.

"I love you," she breathed.

James looked down at Rose in dismay. Why was she telling the Doctor she loved him, when earlier that day she'd given James permission to court her, and had kissed him so passionately?

It must be the romance of the setting, he told himself. A moonlit walk along the beach… she's just gotten carried away.

He pulled his hand away from hers, though he hated to do it. "Rose, you don't know what you're saying," he told her gently. "I know we've become friends, but Lord McCrimmon is courting you. Surely, if there's any man you're in love with, it's him."

Rose squinted up at him, her lips twisted into a smirk. She took both of his hands and wouldn't let him pull back. "That's what I said," she said. "I love you."

James actually felt his mind slow down as he tried to process what Rose was saying. She couldn't possibly know… but she seemed to be saying… and the look on her face, like she thought he was being particularly daft…

She was clearly waiting for him to say something, but eventually her patience ran out. She pushed herself up on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I know who you are."

"How?"

She dropped back to the beach and looked up at him. "Well, for one thing," she said tartly, "you both told me you're leaving Arcadia."

James frowned. "That was enough?"

The wind played with a strand of Rose's hair, and she let go of one of his hands to brush it back over her ear. "There were so many similarities between you, once I knew to look, but that certainly supported my suspicion."

"But—"

She sighed. "Does it matter how I figured it out? Isn't it enough that I know?"

Unease settle in the pit of James' stomach. "Oh, this is bad." He dropped Rose's hand and started walking back toward the cliff path. "It was selfish, asking if I could court you."

"Why?"

He spun around and gaped at her. "What do you mean, why?" he squawked. "I'm a pirate, Rose. My life is dangerous."

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "As far as I can tell, it didn't become more dangerous just because I figured out the full truth." She lowered her chin and stared at him. "Did it?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why is it suddenly an issue, when it wasn't before?"

James shoved his hands through his damp hair. "You deserve better than someone who spends half his life evading the Gallifreyan Navy and playing hide and seek with the Daleks."

"I don't want better." Rose paused and shook her head. "There isn't a better man than you."

"But how can you love the Doctor? He's a pirate."

Rose crossed the distance between them and held his face between her hands. "He's you."

Her warm, brown eyes held only understanding and love. This wasn't wilful denial on her part, or the words of a jaded noblewoman enjoying the novelty of a pirate lover. James finally accepted the extraordinary gift of this woman—clever enough to figure out his secret on her own, and brave enough to love him even though he was a pirate.

He pulled her into his arms and trailed a line of kisses along her jaw toward her neck. "You shouldn't have come here tonight, sweetheart," he said huskily.

Rose sighed, and her head dropped back, revealing her creamy white throat to him. "Why? Because you're a pirate and loving you is dangerous?"

"No." James sucked lightly at her pulse point and smiled when that drew a choked moan from Rose. "Because I barely kept myself from ravishing you this afternoon, even knowing your parents were in the mansion." He sucked harder and grazed the growing love bite with his teeth. "How do you expect me to have any sort of restraint when we're alone on a dark beach?"

Rose turned her head, placing her lips beside his ear. "Because," she whispered, drawing a shudder from James when her hot breath blew over his sensitive skin, "you won't make love to me for the first time on the wet sand."

She sucked lightly on his earlobe, and James groaned, both at the sensation, and because he knew she was right. He didn't have many set ideas about their first time, but he was determined they would be comfortable, because he was going to take his time.

He sank his hand into the silky tresses of her hair and turned her head so his lips could meet hers. Rose wrapped an arm around his waist and shifted to get as close to him as possible, and he barely resisted the urge to grab her hips and grind into her so she could feel exactly what she did to him.

Just before his restraint broke, he ended the kiss, staring down at the gorgeous woman he held. She grazed her thumb over his lips, and he pressed a kiss to it.

"I love you," she said again.

The words struck James as they hadn't before, now that he knew they were truly for him. "Quite right," he said, grinning cheekily at her when she glared up at him.

But when he detected a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, he cupped her jaw tenderly in his left hand, loving the way she leaned into the caress. "And I love you, Rose Tyler."

A knot of warmth expanded in Rose's chest, making it hard to breath. She threw her arms around his neck, and James chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight.

"I wish there was some way we could write one another while you're gone," she whispered.

He took a half step back and tugged at his ear. "Well… There isn't a way for you to write James McCrimmon in Gallifrey—"

"Largely because you aren't going to Gallifrey," Rose pointed out.

"But you could write to the Doctor, if you want." She nodded quickly, and he said, "There's a tavern down by the docks that Jack and I use to pass messages back and forth. Talk to Wilf and Donna at the Wolf and the Storm, and tell them I sent you." James fumbled for something in his pocket, then pressed a cold ring into her hand. "Show them this, so they know you're telling the truth."

They stood in the moonlight looking at each other for several minutes, then James said, "I didn't think it would be this difficult to say goodbye."

Rose smiled and repeated his own words back to him. "Until we meet again, James McCrimmon." Then she turned and walked back up the cliff path.