AN: Sorry about the delay on this-I've been working on it since September, but I kept running into projects with deadlines. The Master's part in the plot shows up in this chapter.

Two men stole quietly down the Arcadian beach, the quarter moon providing just enough light for them to see by. The dinghy waited for them in a tiny cove, like always, and Captain James McCrimmon and his loyal crewman, Mickey Smith, pushed it out into the shallows and jumped in.

James unfurled the single sail once they were away from land and quietly piloted the boat toward the nearby atoll. The Tardis was waiting for them there in the lagoon.

"Man the rudder," he ordered Mickey after a few minutes, and they carefully traded places. The thing about steering a boat was that you had to look where you were going, and for once, James was more interested in what he was leaving behind.

He crouched in the stern, watching Arcadia grow smaller as he sailed away. Had he really stood on that beach with Rose in his arms just three hours ago? She had clung to him with a sweetness that made the passion in her kisses that much more intoxicating, and leaving her untouched had been a challenge, despite his plans for a bed.

And now he was sailing away from her, not to return for possibly as much as six months. Things in the Constellation had only gotten worse since he'd left the Tardis, and he had to do what he could to help, even if he wished he could stay at home with the woman he loved.

Arcadia disappeared on the horizon, but he kept watching. Did he really want that? A normal life, with a home and a family with his love? He'd given up on domestics the moment he'd watched his family home burn down, but Rose made him long for them again. Maybe it was time to see if he could blend the two parts of his life more smoothly.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose clutched the ring that hung around her neck in a fist as she hurried through the area near the docks. She wore her oldest dress, but even covered in paint splatters, it was obviously worth more than the people here made in a month.

Thankfully, she found The Wolf and the Storm without difficulty. A ginger woman looked up from the bar when she walked in and snorted at the sight of her.

"I think you're in the wrong place, Blondie."

"Are you Donna?" Rose asked.

The woman's gaze sharpened. "You're Lady Rose."

Rose nodded and showed her the ring.

Donna looked down, then smiled at Rose. "Come on, Gramps is upstairs. He's been dying to meet you ever since that skinny pirate came by with a letter this morning before he sailed."

"He's gone then?" Rose asked, a hollow ache lodging in her heart. Even though they'd said goodbye—twice—she'd hoped to see him again before he left.

"Oh, Lord," Donna groaned as she led the way upstairs. "You're as bad as he is. I really didn't think that was possible."

"So… James told you about me?" Rose asked hesitantly.

Donna pushed a door open, revealing a well-kept lounge and an older man sitting by the fire. "He wouldn't shut up about you," she said.

"Donna, be polite to our guest." The man stood. "You must be Lady Rose. Go ahead; sit down."

Rose looked at the two of them. " I wasn't planning to stay… I thought I'd just give you this and go back home before anyone wonders where I am."

"Oh, I won't keep you long," he said, pulling her toward a chair. "But I have to admit, I'm very interested to learn more about the lady who could enchant James in such a short time."

Rose shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm nothing special," she said. "You must know my story."

They both nodded. "But Gramps is right," Donna said. "That idiot is completely besotted with you. What I want to know, though, is what you see in a skinny streak of nothing like him."

Rose flushed, remembering how it had felt to be held by that skinny body. "He's actually got a lot of muscle," she said. "And really great hair." She coughed and shook her head. "He didn't treat me like glass. He talked to me about things that matter."

"Oh ho!" Wilf crowed. "And now we know why James fell for you. You're the first lady who's cared about more than your own life. He needs someone who can see the big picture, who will care as much as he does—who will sometimes remind him of why he cares."

The old man levelled a gaze at Rose. "You know he won't give up running the blockade until the war is over."

"I wouldn't ask him to!" Rose said indignantly. "I am hopeful… It would be nice if I could find a way to get my father to grant him a letter of marque, so he doesn't have to sail under a black flag."

Wilf smiled gently. "James gave up on that long ago. I can already tell you're going to be good for him."

Rose looked at her odd hosts. She had so many questions—how did they know James, what was their role in his life currently—but she'd been honest when she'd said she couldn't stay long.

She pulled the letter out of her reticule. "Here is the letter I wrote this morning. I'll come every Monday afternoon with one, if that works for you."

Wilf picked a folded piece of paper up off the mantle. "I think that would be fine."

oOoOoOoOo

Getting home was easier than coming had been. It was the lull between when the local day workers swarmed the docks, and the sailors came ashore to the taverns, and no one noticed the governor's daughter slipping through the streets toward the mansion.

Safe in her room, Rose pulled the letter out of her reticule with shaking hands. The seal in the wax wasn't one she recognised—a stylised figure eight embellished with swirls, set inside a circle. She traced the strange design, then slid her finger under the flap and broke the seal.

James' handwriting was a cross between a hurried scrawl and precise lettering. It fit her bold and dashing suitor.

Dear Rose,

It's only been an hour since we said goodbye, and here I sit, writing to you already. But I spotted the signal from my ship, and I know I'll be leaving Arcadia before two hours pass—which gives me just enough time to get this letter to Wilf.

Do you remember my promise in the garden last night that I would look at the stars and think about dancing with you? You reminded me that the stars in Gallifrey are different, but now you know I'll still be here. I promise, sweetheart—every night I'll look at the stars and wish you were in my arms.

Love,

Your Doctor

Rose paused on his signature. My Doctor, she thought. It seemed so right, thinking of him in the possessive like that.

After reading and re-reading, Rose folded the letter up and tucked it away in the writing desk she had brought home from Gallifrey. The slanted lid on the lap-sized box had a lock. Much as she hated the thought, she knew she couldn't leave this out where anyone could find it. It wouldn't take much for the curious mind to leap from, "Lady Rose is getting letters from one man while courting another," to the possibility that the two men were in fact one and the same.

She traded James' letter out for a sheet of fresh paper and dipped her pen in the ink.

My Doctor…

oOoOoOoOo

James finished reading the last of Jack's logs and leaned back in his chair. As always, his first mate had done an exceptional job of captaining the crew and keeping the ship out of the way of the Gallifreyan Navy. James ran a hand through his hair and wondered for the first time if he was even needed at all.

A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter!"

Jack walked in, a smirk on his face and a bottle of rum in his hand. " I figured you'd be ready for a drink when you were done reading."

"Your timing is impeccable, as always." James found two glasses on the sidebar and Jack poured. "So, is there anything you didn't mention in the log?"

"Nah," Jack said. "It's more of the same, really. The Daleks taking more territory, the Navy not being able to stop them, and the Master sailing around like an annoying fly who won't sit still long enough for you to swat him."

James drank some of his rum, then ran his tongue over his teeth in appreciation of the smooth liquor. Jack continued to share some of the things Koschei had done in the last six months, but James tuned him out. His old friend would never change, it seemed, and frankly, the story grew old.

He watched the light refract through the rum, and the colour reminded him of Rose's eyes—rich and warm, with flecks of gold. His gaze strayed to the folded piece of parchment where he'd begun a new letter.

"But why do I think you're not the least bit interested in anything the Master has been doing?" Jack said.

James looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, Jack," he said. "But well, it's always the same old thing, isn't it? Hard to be interested in a story I've heard a dozen times before."

Jack cocked his head and looked at him. "Is that all it is, Doctor?" he said, and the sly note in his voice made James a little uneasy. "You weren't, perhaps, more interested in this?"

Jack grabbed the unfinished letter to Rose before James realised what he was planning. "Oi! Give that here," he ordered, trying to snatch it out of his first mate's hands. Jack laughed and jumped out of his chair, dancing back from the table.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said, quickly unfolding the paper and scanning the contents. "Dear Rose—it's only been two days and I miss you already, sweetheart…" Jack held the letter to his chest and looked at James, a impish smile on his face. "Why Doctor, are you writing a love letter?"

"Jack, stoppit," James ordered, but without any real heat in his words. He could force his friend to hand over the letter, but experience told him it would be better to let him get all his teasing out at once, lest it come out at a less opportune moment.

Jack grinned unrepentantly and continued scanning the letter, which James was relieved to remember contained none of the passionate reminisces he'd been tempted to include. Perhaps a mention of—

"Kisses under the moonlight?" Jack peered up at him. "You've become a true romantic, Doctor."

James finally took the letter back, knowing Jack had gotten to the end. "Not really," he said.

"So… who's this Rose who's captured your heart?" Jack sat back down and leaned back in his chair.

James slumped into his chair, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this interrogation. "Rose Tyler."

There was a thud as Jack's chair tottered back onto all four legs. "Rose Tyler? Lady Rose Tyler, the governor's daughter?"

"Yes."

Jack whistled. "Well, I suppose there aren't many other young ladies of equal rank to you in the Constellation, but damn, Jamie, you sure know how to jump straight into danger. It's one thing to visit with the governor and his family on a social level, but unless I'm misreading that letter, you've almost as good as proposed to Lady Rose."

James tapped the letter against the table and didn't answer.

"That's what I thought. How do you expect to keep your double life a secret from your lady wife?"

The long silence told Jack the truth. "Or did you tell her already?"

James smiled softly. "I didn't have to. She figured it out for herself. She's brilliant, Jack, and beautiful, and kind…"

Jack held up a hand. "Whoa, hold up on the description of this paragon and go back to the part where she figured out your carefully guarded secret all on her own. How could she do that when she only knew you as yourself?"

"Ah." James tugged on his ear. "Well, the Doctor met Rose on the beach more than once." His friend looked at him disapprovingly, and James held up his hands. "She was determined to walk on the beach by herself after dark! I couldn't convince her that it wasn't safe, so in the end, I decided it would be better if I joined her."

"And of course she met Lord James McCrimmon socially, and somehow you did something that made it obvious that you were the same person?"

James nodded. "I'm still not sure what truly tipped her off, but she said the fact that both the Doctor and James told her we were leaving Arcadia confirmed her suspicions."

Jack groaned. "I always wondered when someone would start to realise you only appeared when James wasn't on Arcadia. I mean, our ploy of me running things on the Tardis while you're away was only going to work for so long, until people realised that despite seeing the ship, they hadn't seen you." He paused and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm surprised the Master has never done anything about it, actually, considering he knows."

"Oh, he enjoys our little games too much to give me up. If I were captured, we couldn't keep meeting one on one."

Jack nodded absently. "That doesn't solve my largest concern though. Your Lady Rose—can you trust her to keep your secret?"

James bristled. "Rose would never betray me."

"That's not what I meant," Jack said. "I mean, will she be able to pretend she doesn't know who you are? You're apparently writing each other, which I'm not convinced is a good idea. What if someone finds your letters to her? It wouldn't be difficult to put two and two together and realise that if Lady Rose is betrothed to James McCrimmon and writing the Doctor, they might be the same person. As she's proven, once the idea enters your head, it's too obvious to ignore."

James smiled. "I told you, Jack, Rose is brilliant. If anyone can keep the pretence up, it's her."

oOoOoOoOo

In the time that James had been in Arcadia, the crew of the Tardis had filled the hold with plunder to be taken to the islands in Dalek territory. As always, traveling across the blockade was an exhilarating act of daring. The Dalek fleet was far from idle, and while some blockades were merely a threat of violence, the lords of Skaro had proven to be a more formidable foe.

The trip into Dalek controlled territory went as smoothly as they ever did. It took the Doctor and the Tardis a week to distribute their cargo to the various colonies, and they were greeted enthusiastically wherever they went.

Perhaps too enthusiastically. The excitement that always bubbled up when they were delivering supplies spread throughout the region, and it was no surprise to James when they met with a great deal more resistance on their way back to Gallifreyan territory than they had on their arrival.

The Tardis was faster and more agile than the top of the line Dalek cruiser, but even still, they narrowly avoided engagement. As they sailed over the invisible line back into Gallifreyan waters, the Doctor could hear the Daleks shouting, "Exterminate!"

(He'd always privately wondered why they didn't just say, "Yer walkin' the plank!" like any self-respecting sea dog, but in the grand scheme of things, that hardly mattered.)

On their first night on the Gallifreyan side of the blockade, Jack joined James in the captain's cabin. "Here's to a successful trip," he said, waving a bottle of rum in the air.

James chuckled and slammed two glasses down on the table. "By all means, pour, my good friend. You can drink to a successful trip, and I'll drink to making it safely back home."

Jack tossed back his first drink. "Oh, you're thinking about Lady Rose again, aren't you?" he moaned as he refilled his glass. "I can always tell when you're thinking about your lovely lady by the dreamy tone in your voice."

James shrugged as he slipped slowly at his drink. "I might have been," he admitted. "I think Arcadia should be our first stop, now that we're in safe waters again."

"And that desire has nothing to do with the hope that your lady has left letters for you in the three weeks you've been away."

"That's… possible," James drawled, leaning back in his chair.

Jack shook his head. "You know, I thought for the longest time that you really didn't have any desire for a wife and a home."

James leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hand. "It's had to imagine having a family again when you've lost one," he said quietly. Jack nodded. "And I don't know how… I don't know what…" He blew out a breath. "Rose makes me believe I deserve a normal life," he said finally.

A slow smile spread across Jack's face. "Well, in that case, let's set course for Arcadia."

oOoOoOoOo

One morning three weeks after James' departure from Arcadia, a messenger arrived at the governor's mansion with a thick envelope for Rose. By some lucky coincidence, her mother was out of the house, so she was able to take the packet up to her room without any question.

When she opened the envelope, a single letter several pages long fell out onto her lap. She broke the familiar seal and unfolded the letter, smoothing the creases out so she could read it more easily.

Dear Rose,

It's only been two days, and I miss you already, sweetheart. I miss our walks and the conversation we shared, and the way you would laugh at me when I said or did something ridiculous. And oh, the sound of your laughter… I miss hearing it and knowing that I'm the one who's made you so happy.

That's not to say there aren't things I'm enjoying about being back onboard the Tardis. This ship has been my true home for so many years; coming back to it always feels right. I sleep better with the gentle roll of the waves rocking me to sleep and the salt air coming in through the open porthole in my cabin. Even the hard physical labour of life at sea is welcome after spending months as a pampered lord.

But when I stand on the forecastle after dark with my hand on the wheel and look at the waning moon, none of those things can compare to kissing you in the moonlight.

There was a break in the writing, where he'd set the letter aside for a while before coming back to it. The ink changed colour when the letter picked up again.

The last week has been different from every other time I've returned to the Tardis after being on land for a while. I'd pretend I don't know why, but that would be a lie.

For the first time since I took to the sea eight years ago, there is someplace else I'd rather be. It's not an easily defined place, because it is simply wherever you are.

Jack just read that paragraph over my shoulder and is laughing at my attempt at poetic language. Have I told you about Jack? He's my first mate, and an excellent sailor. He's also an enormous flirt, so I don't know that I'll ever introduce you, even if he is my best friend.

(He just read that too, and promises he won't attempt to seduce you. We'll see. I do trust Jack Harkness with my life…)

Here there was another break, and the first line back made Rose giggle.

I've ordered Jack to take the wheel. Now I can write without him peering over my shoulder.

Do you know what I find myself regretting? My own determination to cling to the established order of things. My mind knows it was the right choice, the prudent choice, but when I'm alone in my bed at night, I wish I hadn't been quite so prudent.

Rose's face was warm, and she knew her cheeks were red after reading that oblique expression of how much he wanted her. She knew well enough that this was not the kind of thing a gentleman would be allowed to write to his lady, and she was suddenly glad James was a pirate for yet another reason.

It took Rose an hour to read the letter the whole way through. Even if he hadn't signed it, she still would have known who it was from—no one rambled like James.

When she was done, she carefully folded it back up and set it in the writing desk along with the first letter. Then she picked up her own pen and went back to her own letter, almost ready to take to Wilf and Donna.

oOoOoOoOo

James was somewhat surprised when Jack left him alone after he returned from his visit to The Wolf and the Storm. It was what he wanted, of course—time alone to read Rose's letters—but his first mate wasn't usually one to miss a chance to take the Mickey out. Choosing not to question his unexpected blessing, he broke the seal on the top letter.

A lump lodged in his throat when he read her greeting. My Doctor. That was how he'd signed his first letter to her, as well as the one he'd just left for her. Seeing the words in her hand was better than any endearment. It had been so long since he'd belonged to anyone, and this lovely creature claimed him as hers.

You've been gone for two weeks now, and I'm growing weary from the effort to pretend to be the perfect lady everyone expects me to be. In most conversation, I dare not show an interest in politics, or the war, or anything that actually matters.

Doctor, you're the only one who has ever accepted all of who I am—including the lady who would fall in love with a pirate. Mrs. Chesterton and I have become good friends, and she is one of the few ladies I have met who is willing to show she has a brain. But even Barbara would not approve of our relationship, I fear…

I miss you, because when I'm with you I can be more myself. You don't expect me to be something I am not. You're even proud of who I am.

I don't know if this is making any sense, but I needed to try to explain the loneliness that I feel creeping over me. I've been lonely before, but then I didn't know anything different. Now I'm used to companionship, and you're gone.

James read all three letters Rose had left for him, then re-read them in chronological order. Though he could hardly believe it, she seemed to share the same joyful wonder at finding someone who could truly love her as he felt. Reading those same sentiments in her hand deepened his longing for a regular life, and he lay awake that night, trying to work out a way he could retire, at least partially, from life as the Doctor.

Those happy dreams didn't last long. Only a week after James picked up Rose's letters, he ran into a familiar face as he returned to the Tardis following a raid.

"Well hello, Doctor," Koschei drawled as they stared at each other from opposite ends of the beach.

"If it isn't the dread pirate Koschei," James returned, refusing to use his old friend's chosen title. The skin around Koschei's mouth tightened, and James hid his smirk. It was always so easy to get a rise out of him.

"I hear you've been trying to have a normal life again," Koschei said a moment later, striking a casual pose. "The destruction of one family wasn't enough for you?"

James only had a split second to decide how to react to Koschei's obvious taunt. "The destruction of Cadon had nothing to do with either of us, Koschei."

His old friend smirked. "Ah, deflection—always your favourite tactic, wasn't it?" action tag "The point of my comment was not to blame you for the attack on Cadon, as you know very well."

"Then what was your point, Koschei?"

"The lovely Lady Rose… I'm surprised you would risk her life by allowing her to be attached to you."

James opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say, something that would remove Koschei's attention from Rose. But it was a fruitless endeavour, and he knew it. The Master was one of the most dogged individuals he'd ever known.

His nemesis' smile stretched wider with each second James remained silent. "Oh, now this is a lovely surprise," he said finally. "I thought perhaps my information was inaccurate. Surely James McCrimmon, the pirate who has managed to maintain his double identity for eight years, wouldn't be so foolish as to court a lady—especially not the governor's daughter. But it appears you would."

"I fail to see how my private life is of any interest to you, Koschei," James said, trying to throw a bit of bored hauteur into his voice. "Aren't such domestic things beneath you?"

The glint in Koschei's eyes sent a chill down James' spine. "I would have though domestics would be beneath you." He crossed his arms. "Really, this was so careless of you—not at all like you. Because now, you see, I have the perfect bit of leverage to use against you."

That was exactly what James had dreaded as soon as he'd mentioned Rose. "Rose is not leverage," he spat out, not caring if he gave away how much the lady mattered to him.

"Oh, but she is," Koschei countered. "Because as long as you care about her, you will do whatever I want in order to keep her safe."

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Jack approaching. "I would really love to stay and discuss this with you further, but as you see, it's time for me to take my leave."

oOoOoOoOo

"What were you talking about with the Master?" Jack asked once they were safely in James' cabin.

James' fists clenched and unclenched. "Rose," he ground out.

Jack's brow furrowed, then smoothed out a moment later. "He's found out about your relationship with Lady Rose and plans to use her against you."

"Precisely. And I can't think of anything I could do to stop him."

"End your romance, for one."

James paced the cabin, the activity releasing some of the nervous energy that had built up since his encounter with Koschei. "That would only prove to Koschei that I care enough about Rose for her to be valuable leverage. And he knows me well enough to know that ending our relationship would do nothing to change how I feel about her." He shoved his hands through his hair. "No, I need to do something that will finally take him out of commission. He's caused enough problems."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "In eight years, this is the first time I have ever heard you consider bringing the Master to justice, rather than simply holding him at bay."

James looked away. As the other remaining survivor of Cadon, he'd been unable to truly confront Koschei, preferring to simply manage the damage he caused. But now…

"He threatened Rose."

"Then let's come up with a plan to take care of him. And maybe, if we work things just right, we can make it possible for you to actually live a normal life with Lady Rose, rather than sailing the Constellation as a marauder."

James sat down, and Jack took the seat opposite him. "It sounds like you have some ideas."

"I do, but it's risky."

"I'm listening."

oOoOoOoOo

Jack's plan was equal parts brilliant, daring, and ridiculous. If it worked, James would be able to leave piracy behind for good. If it didn't, it could easily kill him.

But it was a risk he was willing to take, with Rose's safety on the line. First though, he had to write one more time.

He stared at the blank sheet of paper. He couldn't give her the impression that he expected to be in any more danger than he usually was. Rose was brilliant; she would piece together the truth, and part of the plan rested on her obviously believing things were as they seemed.

James dipped the quill in the ink and for the next few hours, the sound of the nib scratching against the paper filled the room. He filled the paper on both sides, then turned it and wrote cross-wise, unable to stop himself from saying all he wanted to, given that this might be the last time he talked to her.

When he was done, he scattered sand over the paper to dry the ink, then folded it and ordered Mickey to set a course for Arcadia.

When James appeared in The Wolf and the Storm after midnight the next night, Donna frowned slightly before jerking her head toward the stairs. He obeyed her silent command and went to the private residence, knocking on the door.

Wilf frowned when he opened the door. "James, lad, what are you doing here again?"

James forced a smile and hoped it didn't look as fake as it felt. "My route happened to bring me near Arcadia, and I thought, well, as long as I'm in the area, and I have a letter written, there's no reason not to stop by."

Wilf nodded slowly. "It's Monday, so your Rose was here this afternoon with another letter for you, too."

Your Rose. James flinched at the title. He took the letter from Wilf, along with the one Rose had left the week before, and handed his letter over. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "If she was just here, does that mean she wouldn't come by to pick that up until next Monday?"

"That's right. She comes by every Monday afternoon with a new letter for you."

James' heart clenched at this evidence of Rose's devotion. "Would it be possible to have a messenger deliver this to the governor's mansion tomorrow?" Wilf raised an eyebrow, and he hastened to explain. "I'd like to think that she wouldn't want to wait all week when she could read it today."

A smile crept over Wilf's face. "Relax, James. That's exactly what I did ten days ago when you dropped off your previous letter. Rose will have your letter tomorrow, I promise."

There were a dozen extra messages James wanted Wilf to pass along—to tell Rose to be careful, that he loved her, that he hoped when all this was done they could have their happy ending. But he swallowed them all, knowing that even one would make it clear this was not an ordinary visit.

"I appreciate it, Wilf," he said instead.

"Take care, lad," Wilf said, patting him on the back.

oOoOoOoOo

There was a part of James that wanted to put Rose's most recent letters away until Koschei was taken care of. The thought of reading more from her hand when he didn't know when (or if) he would see her again hurt.

He managed to hold out for one day, but when he woke up the next morning and the letters were still sitting on his desk, he gave into the temptation and broke the seal on the first one.

Her salutation and endearment stung this time. She might never know how much truth was in those simple words, "My Doctor."

With some effort, he pushed the fatalistic thought aside and read on. Rose's wry humour and sweetness came through in every line, and James wondered for a moment if he could really go through with Jack's plan.

James swallowed twice when he finished reading her letter and blinked hard before calling for Jack. When his friend entered his cabin, James set the letter down and looked up at him.

"I'm ready."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was surprised to get another letter from James the next morning, but she managed to sneak away to her room to read it.

The first two pages followed a similar pattern to his first letter—newsy, humorous, and tender in equal parts. Then he must have reached his last sheet of paper, because every square inch of the third page was covered in the tiniest print, going in both directions.

We rode through a squall yesterday, and when I looked out at the sea afterward, the grey sky with the pale yellow sun piercing the clouds reminded me of your attempts to paint the storms last month. Are you still trying? I'm sure you can capture it eventually.

There's something about the ocean after a storm that seems more alive and mysterious. Maybe it's the mystery that makes it difficult to paint—is it calm or stormy? Grey, blue, or green? What is the light doing on the waves? It looks so different from what it's like at any other time.

I miss you tonight, sweetheart. Well, I miss you every night, but somehow it seems… sharper tonight. I'm writing this letter, and I suddenly wonder—does she know I love her?

I know I've told you before, but do you truly understand how much you mean to me, Rose Tyler? For you, I would settle in a house with windows and carpets. (Provided we could take the occasional cruise in the Tardis, of course.) It wouldn't even be a sacrifice. You've made me believe a normal, domestic life is possible for me, and I stopped believing that the moment the Daleks killed my family.

And I would do anything to keep you safe. (Which reminds me, Rose—have you kept your promise not to walk on the beach at night? Please tell me you have. There is more danger out there than you can possible imagine.)

Since I'll be near Arcadia tomorrow, I think I'll drop this letter off with Wilf, even though I hadn't planned to come to the island quite so soon. If my letters mean anywhere near as much to you as yours do to me, I know you'll be glad to get one earlier than you'd expected.

Rose Tyler… I love you.

Your Doctor

Rose read the letter three times before putting it away, and retrieved it (along with his first two letters) every night to reread them. The last page felt slightly melancholy to her, like James was struggling to hide some kind of sadness behind the sweet words.

However, the part about her painting inspired her to pick the project up again. Truthfully, she'd abandoned her attempts to paint the storms shortly after James left Arcadia. No matter what she did, she couldn't get the light just right.

But he was right—it was the mystery that made it hard to capture, and the same mystery made her determined to succeed. To her mother's consternation, she spent hours every day standing in front of the easel. A callus built up on her middle finger from holding the paintbrush for so many hours, and a slight furrow appeared in her brow because of the intent way she stared at the canvas. Painting was a ladylike activity, but Jackie wasn't sure most ladies devoted themselves to it the way Rose seemed to.

"What would Lord McCrimmon say if he walked in this afternoon and saw you in that old frock, with a bit of paint on your nose?" she asked one day.

"He would praise me for my hard work," Rose said absently.

"Not that we have any way of knowing what his lordship would say," Jackie continued, as if Rose hadn't spoken. "Why's he not written to you, that's what I want to know."

"Mama, James only left Arcadia three months ago. You know how long the crossing the Gallifrey takes—he likely only arrived a few weeks ago. And then of course a letter would have to work it's way back across the ocean to me."

Rose dipped her brush in a lighter green and shaded the crests of the waves.

"I am certain he is writing to me."

Jackie huffed. "I don't know how you can be so certain, but I can see there's no reasoning with you."

Rose looked up and smiled at her mother. "None whatsoever," she said cheerfully. "Really, Mama. After all you did to push our relationship, would you have me become cross with him over something he can't control?"

Before Jackie could reply, a servant entered the room. "Lady Rose, your father would like to see you in his study."

Rose glanced down at her paint frock. "Please let him know I'll be there as soon as I change," she ordered, then set her brush down in the cup of water by her easel and went up to her room.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose peeked around the door to her father's study. "You wanted to talk to me, Papa?"

"Come in and close the door, Rose."

She did as she was told, a shiver of unease running through her as she sat down in the chair across the desk from him. That unease deepened when he moved around to sit beside her and took one of her hands.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like you're trying to brace yourself to give me bad news?"

Lord Tyler's hand tightened on hers, and he didn't deny the allegation. "Rose, I've just learned that the Tardis was involved in a skirmish with the Daleks last week."

Ice lodged in Rose's heart, but the only thing she could think was that she couldn't let her father see how afraid she was. She couldn't give James' secret away.

"I hope they escaped unscathed, for the sake of the people living on the other side of the blockade," she said, proud that she'd managed to keep her voice even.

"The ship itself is fine—just some light damage. But the Doctor wasn't with her when she docked for repairs last week."

Rose was glad she was sitting down, because her knees turned to jelly at that ominous statement. "Well, hopefully—"

Her father cut off the meaningless wish she'd been about to offer.. "Rose."

The deep sympathy in his eyes shook her. "How long have you known?" she whispered.

Lord Tyler sighed. "Almost from the moment I arrived in the Constellation. The mystery of the masked pirate intrigued me, but no one seemed to know anything about the Doctor's past. When I realised how obsessed the Master was with him, it struck me that they had likely known each other for a long time. In investigating Koschei, I discovered the only other survivor of Cadon had been Lord McCrimmon."

"Do you… do you know anything about James?" Rose clutched her father's hands. "Your report, did it say anything about what the Daleks might have done to him?"

He withdrew his hands and leaned back in his chair. "The assumption is that he's been taken prisoner. And unfortunately, given that he's a pirate, I can't use any of our official channels to attempt to secure his release."

Rose nodded slowly. "So he's at the mercy of the Daleks until… until the war ends, or until they kill him."