Here's chapter 4, loves. Hope you enjoy!

"I needed that," Rose sighed as she stepped out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry off damp blonde locks. He found himself staring – when wet, her hair was almost closer to brown than blonde, and it was pleasantly tousled and tangled by the quick motion of the towel. All makeup was gone from her skin, revealing her pale skin with cheeks reddened from steam. For the first time, he saw no mascara or eyeliner framing her eyes, but her warm hazel gaze was clear and as inviting as it was when she was all done up. His mouth went dry at the sight of her in his old clothes; a raggedy, science-officer-blue t shirt that had been through the wash too many times and black fleece pajama trousers with a small hole in the left knee. "Thank you, James."

He smiled, hoping she wouldn't notice his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "Of course, Rose," He popped up from his seat, knowing Rose was watching him with something like amusement on her face. The shower seemed to have done her a world of good; her eyes were still tired, and her stance was weary, but the smile on her lips was real, and her eyes were simply tired, not exhausted beyond belief. He felt her eyes on him as he quickly went to the kitchen. "How do you take your tea?"

"One milk, one sugar," she replied from the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe in a manner that highlighted the curve of her hips – though he could see the movement was completely unintentional; not a calculated move on her part.

"Ah," James said as he poured boiling water into two mugs, "the wrong way."

Rose arched her eyebrows, pushing off from the doorframe and advancing on him. Her arms were crossed over her chest and the damp towel hung from her grip. "There's a wrong way to have tea?" She asked him. The teasing lilt had returned to her voice, and he smiled as he added milk to her tea.

"Oh, absolutely," he hummed in assent, shooting her a grin as a sugar cube plonked into the tea. He stirred it quickly and then passed her the mug, which she took, still eyeing him with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile, an expectant expression on her face. His smile widened and he dropped two sugar cubes into his own tea. "This," he said, lifting his mug to her eye level, "is the right way. Any other way is wrong."

Her eyes widened in surprise and her smile split into a wide grin. "You're full of it!" She exclaimed, giggling slightly.

"Sort of, yeah," James snarked, tapping her nose with his index finger as he slipped past her, revelling in the brief closeness with her, smelling his shampoo on her even over the warm scent of the tea. Her laugh followed him as he walked back to the couch.

He carefully set his mug down before sitting heavily in the couch, settling his long arms over the armrest and backrest as he settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa.

To his delight, she didn't sit on the other side, like most people probably would have. Instead she nestled herself into his side, sending him a quick smile before leaning forward and grabbing both of their mugs, passing him his and taking a sip from her own. When she settled back against him, he let his arm drop from the backrest to her shoulders, hoping she wouldn't notice his quickened pulse at their position. "What do you want to watch?" He asked her.

She looked up at him, biting her lip self-consciously. "You'll think it's silly."

Oh, now he had to know. "Go on, then," he urged, a smile on his face as he looked back down to her.

Her answering smile was shy. "It's just…it's been ages since I've watched the Harry Potter movies."

His answering grin was wide. "That's a brilliant idea!" He whooped as he jumped from the couch, missing the way her eyes widened in surprise and a second hand went to her tea mug to keep it from spilling. He placed his own cuppa back on the coffee table and made his way to his rather impressive collection of movies. "Which one should we watch?"

"Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop." She replied primly.

If possible, his smile widened at her chosen quote, and he plucked Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone out from the shelf. In seconds, he'd placed the disk into the DVD player and had returned to his seat, anxious to be next to her again. He grabbed the remote from where it had fallen between the couch cushions and hit play.

Both of them smiled as the familiar chiming tune began to play. "It's been years since I've watched this one," Rose said as she leaned more heavily against him, her head falling to his shoulder.

"Me too," James said quietly, watching as Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall discussed the dislikable Dursleys. He took a sip of his tea and looked down at the girl who was leaning into his side. With her damp hair and makeup-free face, dressed in clothes that were too big for her rather than the usual expensive clothing, she suddenly looked quite young, and he realized he might have misjudged her age. Where he'd originally assumed she was 27 or 28, she now looked no more than 24. He recalled what Martha had said – she was an heiress and on the board of directors for her work – and realized that to have such a high position at work, she must have been forced to grow up quickly.

A smile formed on his lips when he realized she was mouthing all the words, like some sort of Harry Potter groupie, and he squeezed her shoulder, chuckling.

She looked up at him. "What?"

"You're mouthing all the words."

Her cheeks flushed pink. "Am not," she said weakly.

He laughed. "Yeah, you are. Do you seriously know all the words?"

She quirked one eyebrow and looked at him haughtily. "'There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all.'" She said, imitating Dumbledore's grave voice and making James laugh.

"That's brilliant," he chuckled, making her smile.

She sighed dramatically. "I have a myriad of useless talents," she told him, still in a mockingly serious tone.

"Do you indeed?" James questioned, mimicking her tone.

"Oh, most certainly," Rose nodded, taking a sip of her tea and humming briefly in pleasure. "Discovering them is all part of the Rose Tyler experience, Mr. McCrimmon." She told him with a wink.

Maybe she wouldn't notice the tips of his ears redden. A man could hope. "Is it?" He asked, wincing at the squeak in his voice. Her lips curled into a small smile. She went back to mouthing every character's line to give him time to recover, perfectly imitating Dudley's line; "daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" out loud and making him choke on his sip of tea.

He moved his arm so that it fell around her waist instead of her shoulders, looking down at her to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable with the change in positions. She smiled slightly, shifting herself so that her legs rested across his thighs, her head still resting on his shoulder. She looked up at him, the slightest bit of hesitancy in her eyes disappearing when he grinned at her. Satisfied with his approval of the new seating arrangement, she nestled more comfortably into his side. "I can't believe it's not even 3PM yet," she said with a small laugh. He laughed with her. "I can't remember the last time I watched telly in the afternoon."

He scoffed. "Then you're obviously doing something wrong. I'll have you know that telly in the afternoon is a regular and much appreciated occurrence in the life of James McCrimmon."

"Is it?" Rose asked, a smile on her lips as her eyes stayed on the screen.

"Oh yes." James nodded. "You have much to learn, young padawan."

It was her who choked on her tea this time, looking up at him as she bit back laughter. "And are you to be my Jedi Master?"

He grinned widely. "I am so happy you understood that reference."

"I aim to please," she teased before returning her gaze to the film, where Harry had just acquired his phoenix-feather wand.

"You're doing a good job so far," he mentioned offhandedly.

Her cheeks tinged bright pink, and he grinned, pleased with himself.

Neither spoke for the next few minutes, both of their gazes locked on the screen as they watched young Harry run through the wall between platforms 9 and 10. They said nothing when James shifted to rest his cheek on the top of her head, but happy smiles formed on both of their faces and Rose bit her lip to hide a smile.

"Did you know there's a bloke that looks like you in the fourth movie?" Rose asks suddenly, not moving from her comfortable position.

"What?" James blinks, frowning in surprise. "Who?"

Rose shifted her head to be able to look at him, forcing him to lift his head. It might be less comfortable, but at least he could see her. Her wide, tired eyes gazed earnestly up at him, their warm colour reminding him of dark whiskey; the kind that got you drunk after only a couple shots. Looking at her now, he realized that even being around her was intoxicating.

Her voice brought him back to reality.

"Barty Crouch Jr." She told him, and it took him a moment to remember what they were talking about.

James grimaced. "Wasn't he disguised as Mad-Eye Moody for the whole movie?"

"Not him!" Rose laughed and lightly slapped his chest, and he caught her hand. "The actor that plays him when he's himself. David something."

"Hmm," James hummed thoughtfully. "Well do you want to watch that one next? That way we can decide with the real thing right here," he squeezed her waist at and winked at her, making her laugh.

"But I love the third one!" Rose whined. "We can get to the fourth one later."

"Well, how many did you plan on watching?" James asked, laughter in his voice.

She shrugged. "As many as we can before I fall asleep."

He looked down at her and saw that her eyelids were already beginning to droop. "Are you even going to get through this one?" He teased quietly. She shrugged and nestled further into his side, letting her head drop from his shoulder his chest, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and sighing contently.

He continued to watch the film, his arms full of his warm bundle. She smelled of tea, his shampoo, and a fragrance that was entirely her own, and her weight against his was strangely comforting. He hadn't dated anyone in years – not since his brief stint with Sarah Jane – and it was therefore very rare for him to hold someone in such an intimate position. He swallowed heavily and pulled her closer, wondering how his fake relationship had turned into this.

Whatever this was.

They hadn't actually established anything, he realized suddenly. He'd told her he didn't want to stop seeing her, and she'd responded in kind, but they hadn't actually clarified what seeing each other was. Was it friends that saw each other on occasion, or was it two people who were seeing each other? What did she want? Maybe she just wanted to see him in a friendly way – getting coffee every few weeks, to catch up?

He sighed heavily. He didn't like not knowing where he stood with someone, especially when he knew where he wanted to stand with that someone.

"What?" Rose asked quietly.

"What?" James parroted.

The vibrations from his voice reverberated through his chest and into her core, and she smiled at the pleasant sensation. "That was a big sigh," she told him, shifting her head slightly.

He felt a slight tickle as her eyelashes brushed against his jaw, distracting him again. "Just thinking," he explained evasively, not wanting to explain his confusion and make her uncomfortable, especially when she was sitting flush against him and he could revel in her warmth.

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, searching his gaze with a slight frown on her face, wondering if anything had made him upset. "Something wrong?" She asked him, her voice thick with fatigue and her gaze slightly unfocused.

"No, I just…" he trailed off, taking in her makeup-free face and worried expression. Her eyes were liquid honey and her lips pressed into a slight pout. "I'm just so glad I met you," he told her honestly, reaching up with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her waist to gently tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, gently running his thumb along her cheekbone. He smiled warmly at her.

She unconsciously leaned into his touch, and her lips curled into a slight smile and worry drained from her face. "Me too," she replied, taking in his earnest expression and chocolate brown eyes. His gaze flicked down to her lips and then back to her eyes, and she smiled slowly, her lips curling slowly upwards and the tip of her tongue visible under her canine.

"Rose," James, whispered, his arm tightening around her waist and his eyes dropped to the touch of pink poking out from between her teeth. Excitement surged through his body, and a thrill he hadn't felt with their other chaste kisses coursed through him. This wasn't a show, or him trying to drive another woman off, it was a longing he felt for Rose and Rose alone. He leaned forward slightly, watching her carefully through hooded eyes, not wanting to pressure her. She mimicked his movement, moving towards him and tilting her head slightly, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. James's breath hitched in his throat and his eyes darkened, and Rose felt heat begin to blaze in her core, her cheeks bright red and her breaths shallow and quick.

It was him who closed the distance, pressing his lips against her soft ones and cupping her cheek gently with his palm. She responded to his kiss immediately, adding a gentle pressure to his lips that sent tingling warmth into his stomach. The hand that had been cupping her cheek moved into her hair, his fingers tangling in her still-damp locks. The arm she'd been resting lazily across his tummy tensed, and her fingers pulled into a fist, bunching his shirt in a tight grip. Her free arm snaked its way up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair at the base of his neck, sending jolts of electricity down his spine. She withdrew for a moment and let out a shuddering breath before pressing her lips to his again. He tugged gently on the soft strands of hair knotted between his fingers and she increased the pressure on his lips, sucking his bottom lip gently.

He was suddenly very grateful to be sitting, certain that if he were standing, his knees would give out and he would tumble gracelessly to the ground. As it was, he tightened his grip on her waist, feeling her borrowed shirt ride up as she shifted against him. His thumb came in contact with an exposed skin, and both parties hissed as the rough skin of his thumb brushed against the soft skin of her waist. He pulled away from her lips, staying close enough that their breaths continued to intermingle, and met her gaze with his own, seeing her hazel eyes blaze with heat and arousal, all traces of tiredness momentarily gone. She swallowed thickly and let her gaze drop to his lips briefly, and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. His eyes widened slightly at the action and their gazes met again.

It was Rose who leaned in for the second kiss, closing her eyes and gently pressing her lips against his, she used the hand at the back of his neck to pull him to her, though he barely needed the encouragement – her lips were as intoxicating and as addicting as the rest of her, and he would give anything for his next dose of her.

"Well, this is interesting."

Rose and James sprang apart at the new voice, their eyes wide and expressions guilty. They looked up to see one Jack Harkness, standing at the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing smirk across his strong features. "Most people notice the door opening and closing," Jack said casually, smiling widely at James, who felt the tips of his ears redden in embarrassment. He turned his gaze to the other participant, and the cocky expression faltered. "Rose?"

"Jack?"

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