Sorry it took a while, loves. I've got so many ideas running around in my head right now it was tricky to just keep this one in my mind! Hope you enjoy!

"Morning, James," Martha smiled at him when he came into work the next day. She followed him into the staff room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it with her arms crossed, smiling at him while he shrugged out of his coat and tied on his apron.

"Hello, Martha," James smiled her somewhat uneasily, wondering why on she kept looking at him like that.

She pressed her lips together as her smile widened. "I spoke to Rose last night." She told him matter-of-factly.

James ignored the way his lips pulled into an involuntary smile at the mere mention of her name, but he could tell by the look on Martha's face that she hadn't missed smile. "Did you?" He asked lightly.

Martha hmm'd in assent and moved away from the door, going directly to their staff table and sitting down lightly, still looking at him with that weird look on her face. Neither spoke for several moments, and it was Martha, once again, who broke the silence. "I heard you had a good time on your pretend date." She said casually.

He whirled around on the spot to look at her. "Pretend?" He sputtered, his eyes wide and his hair still wild from the wind outside. "She said pretend date?"

Martha laughed at his panicked expression. "No, she didn't." She told him between chuckles, ignoring his answering glare. "But good to know that's your response to me even suggesting you might not have gone on a real date."

He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously. "It wasn't going to be, but…" He trailed off, shooting Martha a desperate look.

"Right," Martha said with a wide grin. "So you'll be going out again?"

James's eyebrows pulled into a frown at the sudden change in her voice, and he searched her expression to see some trepidation there. "I hope so." He said carefully. "Why?"

Martha smoothed her hair, a nervous tick of hers he'd noticed some time ago. "It's just…" she hesitated, pressing her lips together. "Look, James," she said with a sigh. "You're a great person, from what I've seen, but Rose is really important to me. I know it's a bit early to be having this talk, but if you're planning on seeing her again, I just need you to know that if you hurt her, I can make your life really difficult."

James blinked a few times, looking at her unsurely, wondering whether or not she was being serious. "Bit early on to be threatening me, don't you think?" he asked, his voice coming out in an undignified squeak.

Martha shrugged. "I just want both of us to be on the same page." She told him simply, standing from her seat and moving to the door. She placed her hand and opened it, only to stop before exiting the staff room and looking at James with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Plus, this was just the preliminary warning. If you do end up dating, you get Mickey's threatening chat. And he's known Rose longer than I have." With that she closed the door behind her, chuckling to herself as James watched her leave with wide eyes.

James carefully ran his fingers through his hair one final time, Martha's words running on a loop through his mind. What was it about Rose that inspired so much loyalty? Martha was the one who had introduced them, for Pete's sake! She must have assumed they would go their separate ways as soon as they were out of sight, he mused, but still, she'd set them up for their fake date. There had always been a chance that they would get along, and, now that he'd met Rose, he wondered how Martha hadn't already guessed that they would get along, considering their similar humours.

And where did Mickey come into this? James knew that Mickey was Martha's long-time boyfriend, and had met the man a few times himself when they'd gone out to pubs after work. Mickey had never mentioned Rose, as far as he could remember.

Still confused, James made sure his apron was well fastened before leaving the staff room and getting to work, a fake smile on his face. He ignored the fact that Martha was watching him carefully most of the day.

"Afternoon," a light, teasing voice greeted from behind him.

James whirled around in surprise – he hadn't heard anyone sneak up on him – and found himself face to face with Rose, who was smiling widely at him. Her hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail today, showing the tips of her ears, which were tinged red from the brisk breeze. She was wearing a different jacket that she had been yesterday, and he found he quite liked the fitted black leather that wrapped itself rather snuggly around her torso. The pink scarf was still there, and he felt his cheeks flush at the memory of tugging her close to him with that very piece of fabric. She was still wearing her worn leather gloves, and she was gripping a brown paper bag loosely in her fingers.

"Rose!" He said delightedly, a real smile on his lips for the first time that day. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Martha told me what time your admirer usually comes," she told him with a wink, "and I thought, 'hey, I'm his girlfriend, so I should already be there when she gets here and tries to convince him to leave me for her'." She informed him cheekily, making him chuckle. "And, I told you, my work is close by, so I decided to walk over while I'm on my lunch break. So here I am."

"Here you are," James repeated happily, leaning forward to press an impulsive kiss to her forehead. When he pulled away, he saw that her cheeks were significantly more pink than they had been before, and was suddenly worried about his brash actions. She wasn't really his girlfriend, after all. But instead of telling him off or stepping away from him, Rose simply smiled sweetly at him, and he felt a rush of affection for this girl he'd just met.

"Oh!" Rose said suddenly, jumping. She held out the paper bag to him just as he saw Reinette enter the coffee shop. "Brought you a present," she told him, the tip of her tongue poking out from under her canine. His eyes zeroed in on the pink before he met her eyes again and smiled, taking the offered bag and knowing Reinette was watching their interactions closely.

"You did?" He blinked, real surprise in his voice as he unfolded the bag and peered in it. "What is it?"

"Banana bread."

His eyes widened and his eyes snapped to her face, where he saw a teasing smile and warm eyes. "Really?"

"Really," she laughed. "I hear bananas are good."

He stared at her for a moment. He'd mentioned his love of bananas to her yesterday, and she'd laughed and squeezed his hand and told him she'd remember that, but he hadn't expected her to do anything about it! Especially when she barely knew him. He watched Rose's expression falter as he continued to look at her, and, realizing she was worried about his reaction, he grinned widely at her, seeing her own smile widen as he did so.

"Yeah, they are." He told her happily. "Thanks, sweetheart." He slung his arm over her shoulders and squeezed, pressing a kiss to her temple and feeling the burn of Reinette's glare. "I'm really sorry about this," he whispered sheepishly, his lips still touching her skin.

She laughed good-naturedly, "Of course." She replied to both comments, looking at him with a smile on her lips and mischief in her eyes. She patted his cheek, laughing at his whine of protest.

Reinette made her way over and smiled coldly at Rose before greeting James with significantly too much familiarity in her voice. Rose didn't falter, however, and greeted Reinette enthusiastically. Then she frowned, eyeing her taller rival strangely. "Reinette, did you switch shampoos?" She asked innocently, peering at the other girl's hair.

Reinette scowled. "Of course not," she sniffed arrogantly. "I use only the best. Why would I change?"

Rose shrugged, the picture of innocence. "Sorry," she said with false sweetness, "it's just that your hair is doing something…different today, and I couldn't quite place it. I was going to suggest you go back to whatever you were using before, but I suppose I was mistaken. I hope you can fix it."

James valiantly fought the laughter that was pushing its way up his throat as Rose made her backhanded comments.

Reinette pressed her lips together. "You're obviously mistaken."

"Sorry about that," Rose said profusely, then she looked up at James, who was already looking down at her with something like admiration on his face. "Sweetheart, maybe we could chat in the staff room for a few minutes? Martha will let you take your break, won't she?"

"Of course," James replied, placing another kiss to her temple and enjoying the flush in her cheeks and how she bit her lip when she smiled. "Coffee?"

"Oh, please," Rose replied with a deeply grateful tone. "You know what I like. I'll meet you in the staff room?"

James nodded, an affectionate smile on his lips and his eyes shining with warmth, and Rose stepped away from him, taking the bagged-bread with her, giving Reinette a wide smile and a small finger-wave before ducking out of the room. Before Reinette could say anything, James moved towards the counter, getting started on a coffee for Rose. He didn't, in fact know what she liked, giving him a free reign that was as exciting as it was terrifying – what if he made something she really didn't like?

Trying not to fuss too much – he didn't want Reinette to get any ideas – he got to work on a sweet caramel drink that was decently popular, paying attention only to the drink and not to the blonde who had followed him to the counter.

"Perhaps while you are back there you could make my coffee as well, James?" Reinette suggested, a falsely sweet but alluring smile on her lips.

"Sorry, Reinette," James said with a quick smile, "but my break isn't very long, and Rose is waiting. I'm sure Martha would be more than happy to make whatever drink you order." He finished off a caramel drizzle and waved to Martha, who was standing at the cash register with an amused look on her face. She nodded to him and he quickly went to the staff room door, giving Reinette a small wave before shutting the door behind him and letting out a deep sigh.

Rose was sitting at the small, communal table, watching him with humour in her eyes. She'd shrugged out of her coat, which was on the back on her seat, and he could see the simple but elegant white blouse she was wearing. She smiled widely at him when he closed the door, and he returned her smile with a slightly tired one of his own. He carefully placed the steaming mug down on the table before all but collapsing into his seat.

That woman would be the death of him, he thought to himself. How was he supposed to get rid of a woman who wouldn't back off, even if he had a girlfriend?

"Is that for me?" Rose's voice pulled him from his reverie, and he looked up to see her eyeing the warm drink on the table with a particular smile – one he thought might be just for him – with her tongue poking out from under her canine tooth. He took a moment to appreciate the tantalizing bit of pink before pushing the mug in her direction. She picked it up and took a sip.

Her quiet moan of appreciation resulted in his entire face becoming beet-red, but she was kind enough not to say anything, though he thought he might have seen her push back a smile.

"That's gorgeous," she told him warmly, "thank you, James."

He smiled at her. "Least I could do, considering you're helping me fend off that woman," he said teasingly.

"Hmm," She took another sip of the coffee. "Seems to me, I'm doing most of the fighting," she observed shrewdly.

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

She set the coffee down carefully, a delicate frown on her face. "It's just…have you even told her you're not interested?"

"Of course I have."

"No, I mean, those words. I know it sounds ridiculous," she told him honestly, "but some women – some people – need to actually hear the words before they realize. I'm sure you've tried to subtly send her on her way, and I'm a last resort, but I always feel like people don't actually just try telling the brutally honest truth."

He regarded her seriously for a moment. Had he told Reinette the truth? He'd certainly tried to show his disinterest by keeping distance between them, and he'd corrected or turned down her assumptions and lewd invitations.

At his look, she nodded sheepishly. "I thought as much."

He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tick he couldn't seem to be rid of, "you think I should just tell her up front?" He asked, watching her with wide eyes.

She barked out a laugh. "Yes."

"I don't want to hurt her feelings."

Rose looked at him for a moment in wide-eyed surprise before bursting out into laughter. James ignoring the reddening in his cheeks as she continued to laugh and wiped tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said when she'd caught her breath, a wide smile on her lips and the occasional chuckle slipping through. "That's sweet, it really is, but James, you've resorted to pretending to date someone you don't even know because she won't take the hint." She smiled affectionately at him and reached across the table to gently take his hand. "I think it's time to be a little rude. Be honest, for Pete's sake."

"Being rude goes again what my mum taught me, Rose." He told her honestly, a smile on his lips.

"I'm sure your mother would realize that it's time to be rude, now, James," she told him mock-seriously. Hesitantly, she reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair, and the sensation seemed to tingle from his scalp down to his toes. "Rude and not ginger," she commented idly.

"Rude and not ginger?" He repeated somewhat dumbly, resisting the urge to moan as her fingers softly mused his hair. She hmmed in assent. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Are you ginger?"

"No."

She smiled. "There you go, then." She glanced at the silver watch on her wrist, and the smile disappeared. "Time's up, I'm afraid," she told him, and he hoped he wasn't imagining the disappointment he heard in her voice.

With a sigh, he rose, offering her his hand. She took it with a smile and kept a hold of it as they left the room, letting go only to shrug her jacket back on and fix her scarf. Reinette was still in the coffee shop, sitting in one of the plush couches. He walked Rose to the door and looked at her ruefully. She was smiling up at him already, and briefly her tongue poked out again.

Oh, that wasn't helping things. It really wasn't helping things at all. Her eyes were warm honey and her smile was pink softness that he was desperate to feel on his own lips instead of his cheek, but he wouldn't kiss her here, not now. He wouldn't kiss her to prove a point to Reinette.

When he kissed Rose Tyler's lips, it would be for her and her alone.

So, with a sigh, he lightly pressed his kiss to her forehead and she squeezed his hand. They stayed that way for a few moments, until a lightly chuckle escaped her. "I have to go," she told him quietly.

He made a whining noise in protest and she shook her head at his foolishness, standing on her tiptoes before to lightly kiss his cheek, as she'd done before. She gave his hand a final squeeze before stepping away from him, waving quickly to Martha, who waved back with a cheerful smile, and stepped out of the shop.

As soon as she was gone, Reinette was at his side, watching Rose as she tucked her hands into her pockets and made her way down the street before looking at James with something like distain on her otherwise beautiful face. "I don't see her for the two months I'm here and now twice in two days?" She told him, arching one eyebrow. "It seems almost as though you planned it that way, mon chère."

James rolled his eyes, ignoring the warmth he could still feel in his stomach from Rose's visit and the tingling sensation on his cheek where her lips had touched it. "I'm not 'your chère', Reinette, and I didn't ask Rose to come. She came because she wanted to." The words, which he hoped were true but couldn't be certain Martha hadn't asked Rose to come today, made an involuntary smile appear on his lips. He very much Rose to drop by his work just because she wanted to, not because Martha had asked her.

Reinette sniffed. "Well, I thought you had better taste than some nobody," she told him, the tone in her voice suggesting she was disappointed in him.

"Rose is not a nobody." James snapped, barely containing his anger as he glared at her.

"No?" Reinette replied daintily, her perfectly plucked arching delicately. "I am a descendant of Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson. My family is a patron to at least four up and coming artists and my father ministre d'état for the French government. Tell me, mon chère, does your Rose even compare to me?" She smirked confidently at James, whose anger had swelled through his core and into his throat. He was certain his eyes were burning with anger, and he felt of twinge of satisfaction when she had the sense to take a step away from him, though she still had an overconfident smirk on her lips.

"Rose is honest and beautiful and doesn't need titles to make her feel important," James snarled, Rose's words about being honest forefront in his mind, though he was fairly certain she hadn't meant for him to attack Reinette so viciously. "She's honest and sweet, and she cares, which is more than I can say about you. She draws people in instead of alienating anyone who doesn't have a fancy title. It's not that she doesn't compare to you, Reinette, it's that you don't compare to her."

Reinette's mouth popped open as she regarded him with wide eyes, wounded expression on her face.

"She's also the heiress to the Vitex fortune, and on the board of directors of the Torchwood Institute." Martha's soft voice got both of their attention. She was leaning on her forearms on the counter of the shop, watching the two with a serious expression on her face. "Not that it makes a difference."

James's gaze flicked over to Martha, who didn't appear to be joking, then back to Reinette, who now looked mildly scandalized as well as hurt. He sighed. "Look, Reinette, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be cruel. But it's not the titles that make Rose who she is. It isn't her title or her position or her money that I'm attracted to, it's her. She catches my attention and interests me and I want to know everything about her." He said honestly, knowing Martha was listening as attentively as Reinette. "And, I'm sorry, but Reinette, I'm not interested in you."

Reinette seemed to search his face for any hint of dishonesty or doubt before sighing. "Well, that's that, I suppose." She said, looking at James with a dejected expression. "You're certain?"

"I am." Rude and not ginger, he told himself.

Reinette nodded and stepped out the door, letting it swing shut behind her. James turned to find himself face to face with Martha, who was scrutinizing him intently.

"Are you telling me that in two months' time you didn't think to just tell her you weren't interested?" Martha demanded, a small smirk on her lips. James shrugged, and Martha shook her head in mock disappointment. "Wow. You are terrible with women," she ignored James's indignant hey! "Should I just tell Rose she doesn't need to pop by anymore? Problem solved?"

Martha's mustn't've missed the alarm that flashed in his eyes. "No," James told her quickly. "No, I'll talk to Rose."