I just wanted to say thank you to the lovely people who have been taking the time to review this! I'm really not quite sure about what people think about this fic, or if readers care about it/like it/whatever, so any and all feedback is appreciated, review, PM, etc. Thank you! Thanks to fadewithfury(foxmoon) for the beta!
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It never ceases to amaze him how quickly time passes during his lessons. They're out on the hill for over an hour, the cold air biting against the apples of his cheeks in a way that would surely have driven him indoors any other time back home in London, and it doesn't matter how many times he falls, or the inexplicable fact that he somehow manages to get snow inside his new goggles - he hasn't laughed this much in longer than he can remember. He's finding he loves to make her laugh as well - each time he flails his arms ineffectively to try to avoid yet another tumble, her laugh resonates all around them, seeming to warm the very air … and it makes him smile, too. All the other skiers are so focused on their speed, their techniques, and their tricks, and he and Rose seem to be the only people having this much fun on the slope - which somehow makes the entire experience even more hilarious in John's view.
As they finally make it to the bottom of the hill, they trudge over to the "drag-lift" Rose had described during their ride over, which would bring them back to the top of the hill for another go. It's an oddly-shaped piece of equipment, and looks like a large, metal upside-down T, attached to a long pulley that goes from the bottom to the top of the hill. Hardly an engineering marvel, really, he thinks, and the design itself looks simple enough to his eyes. As Rose comes to stand on one side of it, grabbing a hold of the central column and straddling one side of the T, he follows her lead, looping his own leg over the opposite side.
"Now whatever you do," Rose instructs, "Don't -"
… as she speaks, he sits down on the contraption, resting all his weight against it and they immediately go tumbling together to the ground.
It's funny at first, like any other one of the falls he's taken all day, and they lay sprawled in a pile, her shoulders shaking with laughter, their skis and legs intermingled, snow somehow stuffed down the back of his jacket, and everyone staring at them.
He stands up first as Rose still roils with laughter on the hard-packed snow ground, having gotten enough practice today falling and standing and falling again to have become rather comfortable with the procedure. Ever the gentleman, he holds out his hand to help her up as well. Smiling, she takes his offered hand, her glove gripping his own as he pulls her up - but as soon as she's semi-upright she gasps, a sharp and pained intake of breath that he's never heard her make before. Her smile fades into a grimace as she clutches his arm for support, both of his own arms instinctively locking around her waist to hold her up.
"Ouch," she says, biting her lip with a wince. "Sorry … it's just my knee."
He's immediately concerned, remembering last week when she'd mentioned a knee injury that had stopped her budding ski career, and his mind races, wondering what he should do. They're still at the bottom of the hill, coated thick and deep with last night's snowfall, and he can't see a way to easily get her up to the lodge.
"I'm, oh god, I'm so sorry … Um, are you hurt badly?" he asks, guilt etched onto each word - this is his fault, and he knows it, even if he knows by now there's no way she will blame him for it.
She shakes her head in a silent no and gives him a reassuring little grin, which only makes him feel marginally better, and she keeps a firm hold on his arm for support with one hand as she rubs her leg with the other. His arm instinctively moves tighter around her waist, drawing her closer against himself as he peers around, from left to right, his stomach quickening with guilt at the knowledge that he's unintentionally done something colossally stupid and hurt her. He not only needs to fix this, to make sure she's alright - he wants to. He's about to ask one of the passing skiers for help when he hears a male voice, gentle and low, right behind them.
"It's OK, I've got you," the young man says softly, roping his arm around Rose's waist, and John's arm falls away.
"We were just -" John starts to explain, not quite knowing why he's trying to explain anything at all.
"Yeah. I saw you."
John's happy for the help of course, he only wants to bring Rose to safety and ensure she's not too badly injured, but there's something unspoken lurking in the young man's clipped tone to which he can't help taking offense. The young man helps Rose to the ground as gently as possible, unfastening her skis with care before sitting back and looking into her face, concern obvious on his own.
"Thanks, Jimmy," Rose says with a grateful smile, and Jimmy smiles back at her. "Just a little twist, I think. Nothing too bad."
"Think you can put weight on it?" Jimmy asks, looking intently at her.
She nods and Jimmy takes her hands in his own, slowly easing her up to her feet in a practiced motion. It takes Rose a moment, but she's able to put some weight on her knee, much to John's relief. Jimmy smiles at her, but her first look is towards John, as if to reassure him that she'll be fine.
"Let's head up," Jimmy says, securing his arm once again around her waist.
Just as Jimmy starts to turn away towards the slope, his arm still looped around Rose like it's the most natural thing in the world - and completely ignoring John's presence - John finds his voice breaking through the crisp morning air, almost despite himself, shattering the silence as if it were a pane of glass.
"Can I help?" he asks.
To John, his own question feels strange, like it's an unwanted interjection where instead he should naturally have a role - he's been out here all morning with Rose, after all, and of course he's bloody well concerned for her welfare. He hates just standing there, wanting to assist Rose - wonderful Rose, who's been nothing but lovely and thoughtful to him these past few weeks. But instead, while she's hurting, he's relegated to doing nothing but holding onto his ski poles ineffectively as the snow in his jacket melts uncomfortably against his neck, and although his words are an attempt to stem the awkwardness, they seem to only pile on further discomfort, judging by the look this offer gets from Jimmy.
"I think you've done enough," Jimmy says.
Something icy settles in John's stomach with those words, but Rose's head snaps up before he can react.
"Hey now, it wasn't his fault. If anything it was mine, I didn't tell-" her face contorts in a momentary grimace as she comes to a full standing position, and John instinctively takes a protective step towards her.
"- I didn't warn him about the lift," she finishes.
"Fine. Carry her skis then."
Jimmy doesn't spare a glance for John over his shoulder as he begins to trudge back up the hill, Rose leaning against him for support. She stops and tosses a glance back over her shoulder at John, trying to hide her slight wince and failing badly.
"You ok, John?" she asks, managing a small grin.
John nods back at her, a tight smile on his face. He notices Jimmy looking at him then as well, the chill in his gaze rivaling that of the air, and John ignores it, flicking his eyes back to Rose. He can't quite explain the whim that comes over him, but he flashes her his most brilliant grin, the one that's had her laughing and smiling brightly back at him all morning long, and nods at her, throwing in a little wink for good measure. She relaxes, smiling widely back at him, and as Jimmy turns away again to lead Rose back up the hill, John stands watching them for a long moment, before gathering Rose's skis and trudging back up the hill behind them.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Jimmy may be a complete arse, in John's opinion, but he nonetheless is painstakingly careful as he navigates his way up the slope with Rose until they reach the top, letting her lean on him and taking as many breaks on the way up as she needs. As soon as they enter the lodge, Jimmy settles Rose down onto a sofa in the back office, his hands lingering quite unnecessarily over her knee to massage out any residual pain, and John inwardly rolls his eyes at the fact that this rude young man is so obviously desperate for Rose's attention. He's not sure why that grates on him as much as it does.
John supposes that some young women might find this kind of bloke handsome - dark, wavy hair running a bit long (and quite shaggy), piercing blue eyes - but he's far too young, and far too surly for any of that to matter. He hope that Rose - for her own sake - can see that, too. She's kind and well … she's attractive … and clearly, she can do far better.
After a minute, Jimmy gives Rose's hand a little squeeze.
"I should get back to teaching my students - can't leave 'em alone for too long out there, or those kids'll start throwing snowballs at all the skiers again just for fun. Will you be ok for a bit?"
Rose nods.
"Thanks, mate," she says, leaning in to give Jimmy a quick, friendly hug as he leaves the lodge, not even sparing a glance for John on his way out the door.
As soon as they're alone, Rose sighs and leans back against the sofa, resigned, taking off her gloves. She's worrying at her lower lip like something is bothering her, and John's stomach churns at the idea that it could be him. He's not quite sure why that bothers him, why the thought that – maybe – she's upset with him makes him feel like he just swallowed a piece of lead. He stands mutely off to the side and simply watches her, his face a mask, until she finally opens her mouth to speak.
"I'm sorry … I think I'm probably out of commission for the rest of the day," she says sadly. "I could set you up with someone else today, I'm really sorry -"
"I wouldn't dream of it," he interrupts softly, yet urgently, and her eyes flick up towards his. "And I'm the one who should be saying I'm sorry."
The smile fades off her face and she shakes her head, looking back down at her gloves.
"Don't be. It was my fault, I should have told you before we got on the lift, it's not like you've ever used one before … and besides, it's not the first time I've twisted it. My tendons aren't strong in that knee anymore, it happens every so often," she says with a self-deprecating little shrug.
He looks back at her for a long, silent moment and finally nods solemnly, his gaze then breaking from her own.
There are not many other places to sit in the office, and it's clear to him they're going to be here for quite a while, so John leans against a nearby desk instead, removing his hat, jacket and gloves, and tossing them into an unceremonious little pile on the floor. Rose looks at up him and smiles, gently maneuvering herself so as to leave a bit more space on the other side of the sofa, and motions for him to sit down. He takes a seat, plopping himself down on the opposite end of the sofa from her.
"I'm sorry your lesson got cut short," she says. "It'll be free today, of course."
He shrugs, looking over at her with a genuine smile.
"Please, don't bother, it's alright," he says. "I'm just glad you're OK."
"Do you want to go back to the B&B?" she asks hesitantly, smiling back at him. "I need to rest a bit, but I could get someone to give you a lift in the meantime."
He shakes his head and settles in further down into his seat on the sofa, looking around the small room. Besides the sofa, the desk, and a chair, the space is hardly furnished at all except for a bulletin board advertising various services, equipment suppliers, and even a few local events.
"I'll make it up to you," she says after a moment, following his gaze to the flyers covering the wall, and points at the one in the middle. "That ice sculpting festival, three weekends from now - my treat, since you don't want your money back for today. They have ice chess where you actually are the pieces on the board, and a graffiti wall where you can carve anything you want – and it's always a lot of fun - whaddaya say?"
"Rose, you don't need to -"
"I want to," she insists, giving him a playful smack on the arm.
He rubs his arm in a mock display of pain, and grumbles about how there are now two injured parties today, then notices that she looks a little uncertain, her smile fading slightly - it's only then he realizes that he hadn't yet answered her question.
"I'd love to - that'd be brilliant," he says, giving her a warm smile.
Her smile broadens, and her gaze lingers on him for a moment. He swallows and looks away momentarily, beginning to feel a little restless. Suddenly, he reaches into his jacket pocket, brandishing a deck of cards, and holds them up for her to see, with a sly grin.
"You keep a deck of cards in your jacket?" she laughs.
"Oh Rose Tyler, I keep everything in my jacket!"
She laughs, and he winks, and they begin to play.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
She beats him in poker eight times before she feels well enough to ride back to the B&B.
She'd called ahead to Wilf, of course, to let him know she'd be delayed, and although he had seemed very concerned on the phone, by the time they get back he simply gives his granddaughter a big hug and a soft smile, with a gaze that looks almost sad. Wilf makes her promise they'll talk later about her injury, which John takes to mean that it will be a private discussion, and Rose gives a long sigh in response.
After dinner, John helps her up the stairs to her room, his arm around her waist, and hers wrapped tightly around his as well. He brings her to her doorway and smiles at her.
"I'm glad you're ok," he says, as she thanks him for his help.
He leans in to give her a little hug then - it's brief, and completely spur of the moment, but it feels natural, especially considering how much time he's spent already with his arm around her for the past few minutes as he helped her up the stairs. Her arms come up to enfold him briefly as well, and after a quick squeeze, they part.
"Goodnight, Rose," he says, giving her one last grin as he heads back down the hall.
"Gnite John," she responds, and before entering her own room, she stares after him just a moment longer, giving him a little wave and smile as he turns to enter his room.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Just before bed, he pulls out his laptop one more time and checks his email. He yawns as he scrolls past faculty announcements and emails from students, but stops, smiling to himself when he sees an email from Jeanne. He opens it, and his smile widens. It's an invitation for both him and a few other faculty members to attend an art exhibition at The Natural History Museum in a few weeks' time. But, then he sees that the actual day for this is on a Saturday … one of his Weardale Saturdays, as he's coming to think of them. More specifically, and if his memory is correct (which it always is), it's the same day as the ice festival Rose had promised to take him to.
He stares at the screen for a moment, almost pensive, and then begins to type his reply to Jeanne.
