Because I am excitable and can't stick to a schedule. When I finish a chapter I'm just too excited to share it with you all! This chapter is extra long to make up for the last one, which was pretty short.

Rose woke slowly, her eyes lazily blinking open and revealing the unfamiliar room. For a moment, panic shot through her; where was she? A soft snore drew her attention to her side, where her eyes landed on a still sleeping James, and all tension melted out of her in a moment. She yawned widely and shuffled comfortably against her human pillow, and he responded by tightening the arms that had managed to use to encircle her waist. Tentatively, Rose lifted her head to spot his alarm clock. The light from the small device was harsh against her sensitive eyes, so she had to squint to make out the time. 4:43AM. She resettled her head comfortably on his chest, feeling his heart pound slowly and steadily under her touch.

She was far more comfortable than she'd been in the past week, during which most of her sleep had occurred at her desk in the form of short naps between caffeine-induced hazes. Now she cuddled against James's warm body, enveloped in his soft blankets and in a comfortably dark room.

And she had to use the loo.

Bollocks.

She deliberated for a moment, but it only took a few seconds to realize that it couldn't wait, and, with difficulty, she managed to slip out of James's grasp. She paused when he whimpered, but when she looked over he was still asleep, though a frown had creased the skin between his eyebrows. She reached over and soothed it with her thumb before pressing a light kiss to the spot, and the creases disappeared. She smiled affectionately at his sleeping form before quietly slipping out of the room.

To her surprise, the lights in the kitchen were already on, and Jack was watching the coffee maker fill a clear pot of coffee with bleary eyes. He was already dressed in his usual attire – a clean, pressed oxford and dark trousers held up by braces, but his hair was still mused from sleep and his expression had yet to clear. Rose made sure to quietly close the door to John's bedroom so the light from the kitchen wouldn't wake him up.

The noise caught Jack's attention and he looked up in surprise when he saw Rose in too-big fleece pajama bottoms and borrowed t-shirt, her hair a tangled mess from sleep. He may have been tired, but he still smirked at the sight of her, used to seeing her completely put together. "Mornin', boss," he greeted.

She briefly held up her hand in a lazy wave, and Jack's smirk widened. Rose Tyler had never been – nor would she ever be – a morning person. She made her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, and Jack turned his attention back to the pot of coffee, wishing he'd had the foresight to start it, then get dressed, so that he wouldn't be stuck staring at it.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Rose re-emerged, her hands damp from washing them and still otherwise looking half asleep. "You're up early," she commented to Jack, moving to the kitchen and plopping heavily into one of the chairs, punctuating her statement with a wide yawn that Jack had to admit was rather adorable in her tired state. Jack could count on his fingers the amount of times Rose had looked her proper age – twenty-five – in front of him, usually seeming older due to her confident and put-together appearance and high military rank making.

"So are you," he replied simply. Then he grinned, looking more like himself, if only a tired version. "I'd have thought James would have exhausted you," he looked meaningfully at the door to James's bedroom from which she'd emerged and winked salaciously at her. He'd noticed immediately upon waking up that James was not sleeping on the couch, which Jack had been certain he'd try to do, knowing his flatmate to be a gentleman. Rose snorted in a distinctly un-lady-like manner, and Jack bit back a laugh. While he liked Rose in all her forms, just-waking-up-Rose (if she was not angry with him in particular) never failed to put a smile on his face. She never seemed more human and normal than when she was her grouchy, non-caffeinated self.

The coffee maker beeped promisingly and Jack pulled out his largest mug, filling it to the rim with the dark liquid and taking a sip that burned his tongue. He let out an appreciative breath once he'd swallowed and raised an eyebrow at Rose, who was still sitting at the table and watching him with a disinterested expression. "Want to ride with me to work?" He offered, "I was going to leave after this cup, but I could wait if you wanted to come."

Rose bit her lip and her gaze flicked over to the door to John's bedroom. Jack didn't miss the look and a wide grin returned to his face. If he'd have thought that Rose and James would have gotten along so well, he would have introduced the pair years ago. He shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip. "Or come in later, whatever works."

She looked up at him unsurely, her teeth still gnawing at her lip. "I should go in," she said, though she didn't seem to want to at all. "If you're going in, I should too."

Jack shook his head. "Come on, now, boss. I was there for three days. You were there for seven. You can take a few more hours to relax."

Rose's expression morphed into painful hope. "You think?"

Jack was struck with another bout of hatred for Adam Mitchell. If Rose loved anything, she loved her job, but the idiot had made it painful for her, making her feel like she couldn't relax until she'd solved the problems she thought she'd caused. "Of course," he lightly placed his palm on her shoulder, looking at her seriously. "Take a breather, Rose. I'll call if anything comes up."

Rose smiled gratefully at him, rising from her seat. "I'll see you later, then," she said with another lazy wave, turning and heading back into James's bedroom. She slipped in quietly, opening and closing the door soundlessly and feeling Jack's eyes on her back until she was completely out of his line of sight. She felt a wave of gratefulness for her friend and sighed loudly once the door latched behind her.

She moved directly to James's bed, where he was still resting peacefully, and slipped under the covers. She shuffled until she was pressed against him once more, her head resting comfortably on his chest and one arm draped lazily over his torso. In his sleep, he shifted and maneuvered his arms to wrap them around her waist once more, and she smiled widely against his chest, feeling warmth and giddiness bubble in her core. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, and sleep overtook her once more.

The first thing that James became aware of when he woke up was the unfamiliar weight on his chest.

The second was the scent of Rose's hair.

He opened his eyes and looked down and the girl in his bed. He couldn't see her face, only the top of her head, but her breathing was even and slow, and her arm was resting across his torso in a lazy but strangely possessive manner. He turned his head to look at the time.

8:07

Surprise slowly registered in his mind, his thoughts still groggy and muddled from sleep. He'd expected her to be out the door freakishly early, yet she was still fast asleep.

Oh, well. He certainly wouldn't argue, knowing that regardless of what she thought she was probably desperately in need of a day off. He was certain she wouldn't agree to that, so for now he decided to simply let her sleep until she woke up.

Trouble was, James, unlike Rose, was a morning person. After a few moments of allowing his brain to wake slowly, he was completely aware and awake in his bed, though very reluctant to move. With a deep, content sigh, James loosened his grip on Rose's waist and brought one hand up to her hair, gently running his fingers through the tangled locks and massaging her scalp. She muttered something unintelligible against his chest, still asleep, and he smiled fondly at the precious bundle he held in his arms.

He allowed his mind to wander, though it never strayed too far from Rose. He wondered about her relationship with Martha. He hadn't forgotten that he'd had the fortune to meet her because she'd owed Martha a favour, apparently for something Rose thought was hilarious. He wondered if he could bring it up again. She'd nearly brought herself to tears laughing last time they'd discussed it, and he wanted to know what on earth was so funny. He wondered about how she knew Martha. They seemed to be from completely different worlds – Martha had grown up in a perfectly average – perhaps upper middle class – household, while Rose, apparently, had grown up an heiress to one of the largest corporations in the world. Chances were that she'd lived a relatively privileged life.

He wondered how she knew Mickey. Had she met Mickey through Martha, or Martha through Mickey? Perhaps she'd met them when they were already together. No, that wasn't right. He recalled Martha telling him that Mickey had known Rose longer than she had.

James frowned. He was relatively certain that Mickey was a mechanic, and again he was left with the question of how Rose became acquainted with someone may as well live in a different world. She wasn't what he would expect from an heiress – she wasn't cold or distant, nor did she seem to care about stations and status – but still, it seemed strange.

She knew Jack through work, obviously.

And wasn't that puzzling? He couldn't imagine Rose with the same sort of top-secret job Jack seemed to have, but if she'd been his training officer when he'd started four years ago, that would mean that she'd started at least a few years before him. He frowned. He didn't actually know Rose's age for certain, but she must have been incredibly young for a training officer. He wondered how someone so young got involved in that sort of secrecy.

He wondered at the protective nature of all her friends. She was involved in some sort of military organization, he figured, if it was top secret, held a distinguished position – Martha had said she was on the board of directors – and was obviously more than capable at her job, and yet all her friends defended her fiercely. He wondered, not for the first time, what it was about Rose that inspired that sort of loyalty. Even he, after knowing her for only a few days, felt the need to protect her, even from herself, but he chalked that up to the fact that he was very quickly falling for the mysterious blonde.

A loud buzzing startled him out of his thoughts and he quickly picked up the offending item – a ringing mobile – so that it wouldn't wake Rose. She shifted against him, and he held his breath, but a second later she'd stilled again and he let out a breath of relief before answering the mobile. "Hello?" He greeted quietly, continuing to run his fingers through Rose's hair with his free hand.

"Who the hell is this?" came a sharp voice on the other side. James blinked in surprise, pulling the mobile away to look at the caller ID. Realization hit him when he looked at the mobile in his hand and realized that it wasn't his.

"Mickey? It's James, from the coffee shop," he greeted hesitantly, hoping that Mickey's promised threats could wait.

There was a pause on the other end before Mickey spoke again. "Why are you answerin' Rose's mobile?" He asked bluntly, apparently opting not to bother with small talk.

"She's sleeping," James winced, hoping Mickey wouldn't jump to conclusions.

Another pause, followed by a loud sigh. "Well, she definitely needed to get some sleep, so that's alright, I suppose. Tell her to call me when she wakes up."

"Is it important? I could wake her…" he really hoped it wasn't important.

"No, don't do that. Let her sleep. I can talk to her later." James breathed a sigh of relief and was about to bid Mickey goodbye when the other man spoke again. "I hope you realize that I'm letting this go for now, but you and I will be having a conversation very soon."

That sounded threatening.

"Sure," James replied, hoping he sounded calm and unbothered. Mickey hung up without another word, and James stared at the device for a few seconds before setting it back down on his night stand."

"Who s'at?" Rose mumbled against his chest.

His arm returned to her waist. "I didn't realize you were awake," he told her apologetically, keeping his voice.

"'M'not. Who s'at?" She mumbled again, her words barely discernable.

He smiled, keeping up his ministrations with her hair. "Mickey. He wants you to call him later." He informed her.

"'S'it important?" She asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

"I don't think so."

She shifted comfortably against his chest and let out a loud sigh. "'Kay," she replied simply. Apparently, a half-sleeping Rose had no problem with vague answers. "Time s'it?"

He looked at the clock. 8:29. "8:30," he told her, grinning when she groaned loudly. "Not a morning person, I take it?" Another loud groan. "How about," he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "while you wake yourself up, I go make you a cuppa?"

She shifted against him so that her hands were one on top of the other and rested her chin on her knuckles, looking at him through bleary eyes, a tired smile on her face. "You're a right saint, you are," she told him seriously.

He chuckled and leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently before shifting away from her. She rolled onto her back to free him of her weight, and her eyes tracked him as he made his way to the door.

Finally a few feet away from her, he could take her in completely. Her hair was dishevelled and her shirt riding up slightly, exposing the soft skin of her midriff. Her sleepy eyes reminded him of thick honey, and her gaze didn't leave him for a second. The sheets hand tangled themselves around her waist when she'd turned over, and it didn't escape his mind that her current state was probably similar to one she'd be in after certain other – ahem – activities. He felt his face begin to flush red and he quickly turned away from her, slipping quickly out of the bedroom.

Jack's door was open and his bed vacant. He must have gone to work early. He ignored the remnants of coffee in the clear pot and went to filling the kettle and setting on the burner. While he waited for the water to heat up, he went into the loo to straighten out his wild hair and quickly brush his teeth to get rid of any morning breath. The loud hiss of the kettle sent him scurrying back to the kitchen, and he went to making Rose's tea.

She emerged from the bedroom just as he finished, her hair tossed into a messy bun on top of her head and the oversized clothes hanging loosely off her slight frame. Though she was more awake than a few minutes ago, there was a lingering bleariness in her gaze and her smile was languid and slow. Her face was still clean of any makeup.

He was relatively certain he'd never seen anything so adorable in his entire life.

She sat heavily at the kitchen table and he placed the cuppa in front of her, earning a tired smile. He smiled back and set to making his own cuppa.

Rose didn't speak until half her tea was gone and her eyes were clear. "What did Mickey want?"

James shrugged from his position in the seat next to her, both hands cupping his mug to warm his palms. "He didn't say." He told her, looking at her curiously. He wondered if Mickey calling her in the morning was a regular occurrence, and chided himself for pang of jealousy that passed through him. Mickey was dating Martha – he had absolutely no reason to be jealous of the other man.

Rose frowned but said nothing, taking another sip of her tea.

James took her in, getting a clearer picture now that she was more awake. There were still lines of fatigue on her beautiful face, though not nearly as pronounced as they had been yesterday, and he could tell by her expression and slouched position that she didn't particularly want to go to work. He decided to push his luck. "Do you really have to go in today?" He asked her quietly, watching her reaction carefully. "You could stay, you know. I could call into work, we could finish watching the movies…"

She gave him a tired smile. "Yeah, I really do," she told him bluntly. "I've got to get this sorted, James."

He sighed. "I tried, at least." He shrugged, and Rose smiled as she took the final sip of her tea.

Once the mug had been drained she stood from her seat and placed it in the sink, filling it with hot water to prevent staining. "Tell you what, though," she said, turning to face him. "Once it's sorted, I could take a whole day off, and we could spend the day together…you know, if you wanted."

He rose from his seat and stood across from her, a slight smile on his lips. "Yeah?"

She smiled up at him. "Yeah."

His smiled grew and he stepped closer to her, his hands going to her waist as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her mouth curl into a smile under his and her arms wrapped light around his neck. She stood on her tiptoes to improve the angle, though the kiss was kept soft and chaste. When he pulled away, his hands remained on her hips and her arms remained around his neck. "So, can this be a regular thing?" He asked cheekily, kissing her lips again briefly.

She let out a quiet laugh, meeting his eyes with her honey-warm gaze. "I would very much like if this was a regular thing," she replied, the teasing lilt he knew returning to her tone.

He grinned. "Good," he told her, "because I don't know if I'd be able to stop." He kissed her again, smiles on both their faces and her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"Got everything?" James checked as he opened the door.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Not like I brought much over," she retorted, though humour shined in her eyes. He nodded seriously and she smiled at him, slipping her purse over her shoulder and pulling on her favourite leather gloves. She nodded to James, who reached out a hand. Her smile widened and she interlocked their fingers, liking how easily their hands fit together.

The walk to Torchwood was short, and they walked at an easy pace, their joint hands swinging casually between them as they walked, mostly in silence. The lightness that Rose had felt at James's flat was gone, and the weight of her responsibility at Torchwood began to press her again. James noticed the change but said nothing, knowing there was nothing he offer her at this point except his support.

Once they arrived at the tall building, Rose smiled up at him. "Thanks," she told him.

He smiled back at her. "Any time, sweetheart."

Rose's smile widened at the moniker, and he made a mental note to use it more often.

Rose was incredibly thankful she always had extra clothes stashed at the office in cash she pulled all-nighters. Dressed in a light pair of black trousers and a professional looking blouse and blazer combination, Rose thought she'd done rather well for herself for someone who hadn't actually been to her own flat in the past eight days. Her current shoes were fancy and black with an inch-long high heel, but her trainers were tucked under her desk.

Fancy shoes were not good in case of running. And Rose did like the running.

At the moment, Rose was sitting at her desk, frowning at the computer monitor as she scrolled through several CCTV feeds, looking for any sign of Adam Mitchell. Through use of his credit card statements, they'd tracked his usual haunts, but Adam was nothing if not clever and purposefully avoiding those places. Rose wouldn't be surprised if some of them were faked to keep them off his trail.

She jumped in surprise when someone knocked insistently on her door. "Yeah?" She called.

The door opened to reveal a breathless Jack. "We got something." He told her quickly.

She was out of her chair an instant later, following Jack at a run to the technicians' area of the office, where peoples' excitement was nearly tangible.

"We might have an IP address," one of them, a woman Rose was pretty sure was called Liz told them quickly.

"How sure are we?" Rose asked, her eyes wide and her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't want to get her hopes too far up, knowing there was absolutely a chance that Adam was fooling them. "Have we got CCTV?"

"Negative," another technician, Paul, called back. "Which actually makes it more likely to be him. He wouldn't use a public IP address."

Rose nodded decisively. "Good enough for me. Let's get a team out there."

Rose's chosen team – herself, Jack, Mickey, and tech expert named Tosh, moved with practiced efficiency.

The four split into two SUV's, Tosh and Jack in one and Mickey and Rose in the other. Jack and Rose each drove while Mickey and Tosh worked away at their computers from the passenger side. The cars were connected through Bluetooth, allowing the four of them to converse.

Mickey stole a glance at Rose, who was looking dead ahead, her expression unreadable and her lips pressed together. "We've got him, Rose," he told her quietly. She jerked her head in a sharp nod, her expression not changing.

"Five minutes," Tosh informed them over the Bluetooth.

"Right," Rose said decisively. "Coms in," everyone quickly put their silver Bluetooth-like devices into their ears, checking them to make sure all of them were working correctly. "Good. Let's remember who we're dealing with, guys. Adam Mitchell has Torchwood training, but he wasn't with us long enough to become particularly proficient in anything except his computer skills. Let's surround him quietly – I don't want him sneaking out any exists we miss, and I don't want him to hear us coming. Let's do this one. If we mess this up, I'll have to live at the office again, and I'm pretty sure the director will kill me himself before letting me do that again, and I definitely want to be part of the team that catches the snake." They all chuckled as the car pulled to a stop. "Tosh, you've got those stupid surveillance cameras hacked?"

"I've got them on a loop. We maybe have five minutes before he realized something's up, so let's do this quickly," Tosh told them.

Rose's heart pounded furiously in her chest as they crept around the house Adam was using. As predicted, and quite luckily for them, Adam was so focused on whatever he was doing on the monitor that he didn't notice the team sneak in past what he thought were hidden cameras. Rose peered into the room where they'd detected life sighs and saw the back of Adam's head, heavy-duty headphones on (which Rose privately thought was a big mistake, but she wouldn't fault him for making her job easier) and his back hunched as he quickly typed away on the screen. She nodded to her team – Mickey at her back, Tosh and Jack in the other doorway, and they crept into the room silently. All four of them had their guns at the ready as they soundless moved in on their unsuspecting target.

Tosh and Mickey remained in the doorways, eyes darting expertly around the room and guns at the ready while Rose and Jack snuck up behind Adam.

Jack pressed the barrel of his gun against Adam's temple, and Rose felt an grim satisfaction in her core when the idiot jumped and looked between them with wide eyes. He immediately looked for his exits, panicking slightly when he saw his only ways out blocked by Tosh and Mickey. Knowing he was beaten – Adam was technically savvy, but there was little he could do against four expertly trained Torchwood agents, especially with four guns trained on him, Adam held up his hands, panic and anger marring his otherwise attractive face. Jack, his face grim, made quick work of handcuffing Adam and nearly lifting him out of his seat, leading him towards the vehicle with Mickey at his back in case Adam somehow managed to try anything. Their task was to get Adam to Torchwood as quickly as possible so that he could be locked up safely to await his military tribunal.

Once they were out of the room, Rose nodded to Tosh, who quickly made her way to Adam's spot and sat down, her fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced eased. Rose waited tensely behind her, gun still at the ready and posture tense.

A few minutes later – though it felt like hours to Rose – Tosh spoke. "Got it," she said triumphantly.

"You've got it?" Rose whispered, hope coursing through her at Tosh's two words.

Tosh retrieved the USB key from the computer and held it out to Rose triumphantly. "It's done, Rose." Tosh assured her. "The information is secure and we've got Adam."

Relief washed over Rose and she let out a slightly hysterical laugh, wrapping Tosh in a tight hug when the woman finally stood up. Tosh grinned widely at her as Rose took the key and tucked it safely inside her pocket.

The drive back – Rose and Tosh in their own SUV this time – was uneventful and quiet. They had both been amongst the Torchwood members who'd barely gotten any rest over the past week, and they revelled in the feeling of success.

As soon as they arrived back at Torchwood, Rose informed Director Pete Tyler that she would be taking the next day off.

They've got Adam! Woo! I don't think we'll be seeing too much more of Adam - Rose can only handle so much stress, after all! Hope you all enjoyed this and are having an excellent January (it's gotten cold here, finally. As a winter person, I always hate green Christmases).