Sorry loves. I know it's really short, but this chapter just didn't want to get written. So I'll work on making the next one extra long to make up for it. For now, we get some insight into Rose Tyler.

What time does james finish tmrw?

-RT

12PM

-MJ

k thanks

-RT

Rose smiled to herself. She was at her flat, sitting on the plush and comfortable couch that had been a gift from her parents. Admittedly, it was much nicer than the old couch she'd spent most of yesterday on (though it could be argued that a significant portion of that time had been spent on James's lap rather than the actual couch), and Rose had no trouble finding a comfortable position on her familiar sofa, but she missed James's warm presence.

She couldn't go back to James's. She'd the better part of yesterday at his flat, not to mention spent the night. Perhaps if they'd been officially dating, she could have returned to his for a second night, but they'd met less than two weeks ago, and they'd kissed only yesterday. Rose certainly couldn't go back again.

So she would settle with popping by his work tomorrow instead and seeing if he had free time. That was more…organic. More normal. She didn't often get to do normal.

Rose let out a heavy sigh, bringing a pillow to her chest and hugging it loosely, watching the telly lazily. The previous week's tension was all but gone from her shoulders, and she revelled in the sensation. With a wide grin that was only for herself, she quickly hoped off the couch and practically skipped to the kitchen to prepare herself a cuppa, humming a song to which she didn't know the title.

In her youth, Rose dated a musician named Jimmy Stone. She'd moved in with him after only having dated two months at sixteen years old, and had quickly become isolated from her friends and family as Jimmy had grown increasingly jealous and angry.

She'd caught the attention of a young mechanic one particular night out. He'd tried to warn her about Jimmy, whispering the rumors he'd heard about him through the grapevine, but Rose had stubbornly decided to ignore him. Seeing he wasn't getting through the her, the mechanic had sighed and had passed her a napkin with his name, phone number, and address scrawled onto it, promising that if she had no one else when all was said and done, he could help her. Rose had been about to rudely tell the mechanic off, but when she'd looked at him she'd seen genuine concern in the man's features, and something possessed her to keep the napkin, tucking it safely away where Jimmy wouldn't find it. In the end, that had been one of the best decisions she'd made in months.

While he had never physically hurt her, the psychological and verbal abuse had been crushing to her self-esteem and self-worth, and it had taken Rose far longer than she liked to admit before finally leaving the tosser behind.

She'd gone directly to Mickey's rather than her mum and dad's, embarrassed after having shouted cruel words before slamming the door shut and leaving the mansion for what she'd thought would be the final time. Mickey had gaped at her in surprise when he'd opened the door to see her standing there, a sheepish and apologetic expression on her face and knowing that her hope for him to forgive her was visible in her eyes. For a brief moment, Rose feared he might have forgotten the young girl he'd tried to protect in a dark, dingy club almost eight months back.

But then he'd pulled her into a tight hug, and she'd returned it with equal force, squeezing her eyes shut to keep away tears that had threatened to overcome her. He'd made her a (terrible) cuppa at his small flat, and had been the one to convince Rose to go home to her parents' the next day.

Jackie had welcomed Rose back with loud screams and tight hugs, and while Pete had joined in the latter, he hadn't screamed or shouted upon seeing her. As she'd been wrapped in a tight hug by her mother, she'd seen the tears in her father's eyes, and for the first time in months, Rose allowed herself to cry.

Mickey had watched the scene unfold from the doorway, having come at Rose's insistence. At first, Jackie had lunged to slap the poor boy, thinking he was just another no-gooder after her daughter, but Rose had rushed to reassure Jackie that without Mickey's help, she never would have gotten away from Jimmy in the first place.

And that was all it took. Rose was swept back up in her life as an heiress (Pete's PR job had done an excellent job in covering her eight-month absence by assuring the curious tabloids that the young, charming Vitex Heiress had been in Europe, travelling), and Mickey became one of the family so quickly he didn't even notice it happening. He attended the luxurious parties and spent many nights at the Tyler Mansion for family nights. He had no family of his own, his mother and grandmother having died and his dad gone before he'd grown up, and now Mickey welcomed the kind (if somewhat brash) Tylers as a pseudo-family.

Her thoughts drifted back to James. He'd been so kind to her, and she was fairly certain she'd been a terrible fake girlfriend. Fake girlfriends didn't usually drop of the face of the earth with no notice whatsoever. At least, if James was to be believed, when she'd gotten buried at work he'd finally gotten the guts to tell Reinette the truth.

She smiled as she thought back to the gentle touches and forehead kisses he'd offered her, even when Reinette wasn't around, and his warm smile paired with a chocolate gaze. She thought of his wild brown hair and how she'd been tempted to run her fingers through it on the first day they'd met. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled their walk, when he'd shown her how Reinette had trapped him by pulling on her scarf until their faces were mere inches apart. She couldn't have denied how her breath hitched and her heart seemed to skip a beat at his closeness, even when she'd known him only for a few minutes.

She thought of the unconditional support he'd offered her when she'd appeared at the coffee shop, probably looking a complete fright, and the concern in his gaze when he'd seen her.

She reached up and lightly touched her lips with her fingers, drawing to memory the sweet, chaste kisses from only this morning and the passionate embrace from last night. Butterflies filled her stomach as she thought back to the softness of his lips against hers, or of his hands on her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Her lips pulled into a smile as she thought of James. He was undoubtedly one of the kindest people she'd ever met.

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