Part 5

"With no telly, now what'll we do?" I asked, my voice coming out lower and more seductive than I intended.

I think.

But maybe not, because I returned to nuzzling his neck.

And then I began to kiss him.

His unshaven jaw and neck were a pleasant roughness under my lips as I kissed his jawline. He sighed and tilted his head, and I took advantage of it, moving my lips to his throat.

"I don't know," he said absently. I could see his eyes fall shut as he responded to me. "I was kind of interested in seeing what happened."

"The monarchy was overthrown," I told him between kisses, "and they all moved to America."

"And what happened to–who was it?" Although he had started the conversation, he no longer seemed interested in it. To be fair, I hadn't been interested in it from the beginning.

"Prince Rupert and Cecily?" I asked.

"Uh, uh huh," he answered.

"Instead of telling you, why don't I show you?" I moved to straddle his lap and then wrapped my arms around his neck. "Let's see, first I think Cecily did this..." I dropped my head to gently suck on his pulse point. "Then I think she did this…" I moved my mouth to gently nip at his Adam's apple. He softly moaned. "Then I think she…"

I moved in to kiss him, and he pulled me closer, tightly enough that I could feel that he was already hard. I had to bite off a moan of my own. He deepened the kiss, and I opened my mouth under his, allowing him to gently suck each of my lips in turn between his. My heart pounded as I lost the ability to think at the touch of his tongue on mine.

After several long, fantastic moments, he pulled away and met my eyes.

"Rose, I…" he began but then broke off. "I…"

He looked at me pleadingly, as if he was willing me to understand what he couldn't say. And maybe I did.

"'S alright. I know," I said, now willing him to understand me. I know who you are, I thought to myself. And I know how you feel. Deep down, I've always known.

His eyes widened in shock. "You do?"

"Of course. You don't have to say it," I told him. "And I love you too. Have done ever since I met you."

He whispered my name and then I suddenly found myself on my back on the sofa with him hovering over me. "I love you, so much. And I always have."

Our eyes met, and I saw something in him. For just a second I saw a flash of my Doctor behind his eyes. Just as I had recognized this Doctor within the eyes of mine, I now recognized mine within his gaze. In that moment they were both here, and I could see love for me from both of them reflected in a single pair of eyes.

And that was the moment I understood something that I didn't think either of them understood. They hadn't just been the same man. They were still the same man. Two sides of a coin. One healed and one still broken. They might now have different bodies and be in different universes, but they weren't parallel Doctors or twins or brothers. They were still the same man.

And they were both my Doctor.

The Doctor lowered his head and kissed me. It was far, far too brief before he pulled away again.

"Say it again," he said, staring at me intently.

I smiled at him. "I love you," I told him.

He shook his head. "No," he said. "All of it. Say all of it."

I was puzzled. Hadn't he understood that when I told him I loved him that I meant him too? That I meant both of them? "I don't know what you mean."

"Say it!" He sounded both demanding and desperate, and I couldn't remember exactly what I had said to him that he wanted to hear again.

And then I knew. He hadn't understood. He still needed to know I loved all of him. And it broke my heart to realize that somehow he wasn't sure of it anymore.

I cupped his face and looked intently at him. "I've always loved you, ever since I met you."

He closed his eyes, taking in my words, and I could see the tension within him release.

He said my name, and then he was everywhere: his lips were on mine, his knees between my thighs, his hand on my breast. I returned passion with passion, deepening the kiss and pulling him even closer. But it wasn't enough, not by half.

He evidently agreed, because suddenly our shirts were on the floor and my breast was in his mouth. He flicked and sucked and nipped; he was absolutely brilliant at this, I thought as I gave myself over to sensation. I was close, so close, just from this. Intense pleasure began to spread outwards, and I cried out...

And he misunderstood.

He immediately began to back off and apologize. But I was having none of that. Swearing under my breath, I grabbed handfuls of his hair and held him in place.

"God, don't stop!" I protested, loudly, and I felt him grin against my breast.

As his mouth surrounded my other nipple, I felt his hand slip in my knickers. This time I couldn't prevent a moan from escaping as I felt his fingers touching me so intimately. I thrust upwards, seeking more, and tightened my grip in his hair.

He removed his hand, and I whimpered until I realized he was trying to undo his trousers.

"Bedroom?" I suggested, and I saw him glance doubtfully at the ceiling. I was relieved when I saw him shake his head.

"Too… far away," he answered. "Can't… wait… that long."

Good, I thought. Neither could I.

As he was still fumbling with his trousers, I moved his hands away and unfastened them myself. After I pulled them down, I palmed him and then began to stroke. He gasped as his eyes became glassy, and I chuckled.

He reluctantly removed my hand and we rushed to finish undressing. Afterwards, as he leaned over me with his weight resting on his elbows, he met my eyes, a serious expression on his face.

"Rose?"

On the surface he was asking if I was ready, but I knew that deep down he wanted to know if I really wanted to do this. I wondered which one it was who was asking, or if it was both. Or if they even knew that I knew they were both there.

"Yeah," I said, wrapping my leg around his hip and pulling him close. "I'm ready."

"Then allons-y," he said, looking relieved, a crooked grin spreading across his face. I grinned back. Until I felt him press inside.

"Molto bene," he whispered, and I couldn't agree more.

He set a slow pace, quickening only after I urged him, and spoke the entire time we made love, as if with both of him there he had to talk twice as much. He praised and cursed in turn, using English and a variety of other languages, not all human. If I hadn't been so distracted I might have been amused.

By now I had made love to my Doctor countless times. Although it was always passionate, sometimes it was hard, other times tender, sometimes playful, other times intense. More than once it was to comfort one another after a particularly difficult day.

And of course once had been the first time, tentative and emotional and so, so beautiful.

This time was different. Although I knew him, knew his body intimately, knew what he liked and knew what would push him over the edge, he didn't seem to have the same knowledge of me. He was uncertain in his touches instead of sure, careful when I wanted him bold. In many ways it felt like the first time between us. And I realized that for part of him it was.

But it was oh, so good.

I came, hard, barely aware of anything but ecstasy coursing through my body, and as if from a distance I heard him call my name as he quickly followed.

Finally, after it was over, he collapsed on top of me, and I held him tightly as his entire body shook with the aftereffects of his passion.

I tried to catch my breath.

"That was… bloody fantastic," I said between gasps for air.

"I was, wasn't I," he said smugly, and I swatted him.

Arms and legs still entangled, he began to roll us onto our sides, and I stopped him, holding him in place.

"Just stay there for another minute, yeah?" I said. "I like the feel of you on top of me."

He gave me a small, tender smile and rested his forehead on mine, and I felt, just on the very edge of my awareness, him. His comforting, loving presence. He didn't really enter my mind, but it was still far more intimate than what we had just done.

Eventually, even though he was trying to keep his weight off of me, he became too heavy for me, and this time when he tried to move us, I let him. He managed to pull the blanket off the floor and cover us, and I snuggled closer to him, burying my nose against his neck. And silently we listened to the crackle of the fire and the rain against the window.