Still alive!
Sorry, loves, I've had a rough go at it lately, not to mention this story still continued to refuse to be written.

And, I'm afraid, this is the end for our friends Rose and James.

So our final chapter/epilogue.

"Hey, stranger."

James looked up from the espresso machine, which he was cleaning with painstaking care, to meet the shining whiskey eyes of his girl, Rose. She was smiling up at him with amused twinkle in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. She was dressed casually in the leather jacket he loved, jeans, and worn plimsolls, and the scars on her neck hidden by her favourite light pink scarf.

James grinned when he saw her, throwing the rag he'd been using over his shoulder to saunter around the counter, a cocky grin on his lips. She leaned her hips against the edge of the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, raising a single eyebrow. He dropped the cocky attitude once he was at her side and grinned fully down at her, feeling a familiar warmth in his stomach when she returned his wide smile. He could still see too many scars on her flushed face, though they were finally beginning to fade, so he focused instead on her warm gaze and pink lips. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and her cheeks tinged the colour of her namesake, a reaction he loved that had never gone away, no matter how many times his lips touched her skin.

"I just need five minutes, sweetheart," James told her, unable to keep the smile off his face now that she was in the shop.

"No problem," Rose said with a smile, moving to sit at one of the tables not too far from the counter so that she could watch him work through the last few minutes of his shift.

The weeks following the 'invasion' in Cardiff had been almost frighteningly normal, so much so that he could practically feel Rose humming in anticipation when they went to bed, unused to such extended periods of calm. He'd known she was nervous – Rose staunchly believed that the longer things went right, the more explosive and dangerous the next wrong would be. And she'd certainly been on the mark.

An explosion at Torchwood One almost two months ago had injured sixteen Torchwood staff members and killed another three, and James knew that Rose had grieved their loss as one would the loss of a friend. They might not have been part of her team, Rose had explained to him tearfully, but they'd been Torchwood, and that made them part of an exclusive family, and she'd known them relatively well. The damage to the building was localized to the lab, thankfully, and few people spent excessive amounts of time there. Though it had been ruled an accident (someone not being careful enough with an alien chemical, James suspected, but Rose remained adamantly tight-lipped on the matter) the results had been devastating. On top of the lives lost and people injured, several artefacts and chemicals had been irreparably damaged.

Rose and James' ensuing argument had been spectacular as well – he'd demanded she spend less time at Torchwood – in the few months he'd known her, she'd been in three life-threatening situations, and he wasn't comfortable with the idea of her being in danger.

She, her temper getting the better of her, had snapped that she wasn't going to give up her promising career as a Torchwood agent for a man, that she'd been in plenty of life-and-death situations before, that she was trained exactly for that.

The shouting match had been loud and long, and James's neighbors had pounded on the walls and the door, demanding the two quiet down before someone called the police. Rose had picked up her jacket and stormed off, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Jack, who happened across Rose first, had stomped into the flat with anger burning in his eyes, and had stared down James with a stoic expression. He'd informed James that he was lucky Mickey hadn't heard about the incident first, because if he had Jack wasn't sure James would be a 'pretty' as he currently was.

Rose had remained out of contact with James for almost three days before he'd stormed into Torchwood, ready to demand that she stop running, for once in her life, and fight for them. What he'd found was her hunched at her desk, looking broken and defeated, and he'd felt guilt rest heavy in his stomach. They'd made up, Rose promising to communicate more, to let him know if she thought something was going wrong, and to just keep him in the loop, and him promising to speak to her about his concerns and to back off. He wasn't stupid – he knew she was well trained and almost frighteningly efficient – but that wouldn't stop him from worrying anyway.

(James did end up with a black eye from Mickey, but he decided to let that one slide after Rose had shouted at her best friend. He probably deserved it anyway).

Martha, in her typical peace-keeping way, had shaken her head at all of them, telling Rose and James to get over themselves and work out their issues before calling all of them fumbling children and stalking off, muttering under her breath.

The relationship between Rose and James had been shaken but held strong, both of them determined not to lose each other.

"What do you want to do for lunch?" James asked as he finished wiping down the espresso machine, feeling Rose's eyes on him as he did so.

"There's this great chippy down the road…" he could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile as well. It didn't matter how many times he told her that too many fried foods were going to kill them, Rose Tyler, because she'd simply snort back some retort about the amount of sweets he ate and continue to munch away at her chips.

"Chips sounds lovely," he said with a chuckle.

The door dinged and James looked up, a grin on his face to greet the customer. Rose saw the smile drop somewhat and surprise on his features, so she twisted in her chair to see a familiar perfectly-coifed blonde head paired with an haute-couture jacket and purse. She bit back a scoff when Reinette smiled flirtatiously at James.

"Reinette," he greeted impassively, doing what Rose thought was an impressive job at keeping his face blank save for a polite smile. "What can I get for you?"

"Mon chère," Reinette purred. Rose cleared her throat loudly and Reinette turned, seeming surprised to see her there. Rose smiled innocently at her from her seat, but the claim was clear, and she saw Reinette's lips tighten in frustration. She ordered her drink from James, who took her money and quickly went about making it. His hands worked the espresso machine quickly and adeptly, and he winked at Rose over the top of it as he quickly threw Reinette's drink together. Rose grinned in response.

Donna slipped out of the staff room then, tying her apron around her waist. The scowl she'd been wearing disappeared, replaced by a professional grin. She stopped short when she saw Reinette at the counter, and raised her eyebrows at Rose, who looked on in amusement. Rose shrugged, indifference on her face, and Donna bit her lips, trying not to laugh. Rose's nearly daily appearance at the shop had made her and Donna experts and non-verbal communication, which often made James, who was awful at it, whine about being left out of their secret discussions. Donna and Rose would simply exchange secret smiles and James would continue to whine when he and Rose left. Rose, naturally, completely ignored his complaints.

James tried to keep the nervousness from his face when he came out of the staff room, his apron replaced by his long trench coat. The weather was steadily warming, and it was borderline too warm for the coat, but he decidedly wore it anyway, dreading the days where it would be too warm even for his preferred suits (Rose ignored his whining about that, too).

The spare keys in his pocket felt entirely too heavy for what they were – just two small pieces of metal – but he'd never given a flat key to his girlfriend before. Really, it wouldn't make that much of a difference; if Rose came by when neither he nor Jack were home, she often just used their hidden emergency key to let herself in, but he wanted her to have one on her at all times, one that was hers. It seemed like a ridiculously silly step, but he could feel his palms get sweaty as he thought of how to give it to her.

Oh, god, what if she didn't want it?

No, that was ridiculous – of course she'd want it. She'd probably laugh at him if she knew how much he was overthinking this.

"What did your chips ever do to you?"

Rose's voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see her sitting across the small booth, a basket of vinegar-soaked chips in front of her, her eyebrows raised as she regarded him with amusement written all over her face.

"What?" He asked dumbly, looking down and realizing there was a basket of chips in front of him, too.

Her lips quirked into a smirk and she popped a chip into her mouth, sucking the excess vinegar from her thumb. "You've been glaring at your chips for about five minutes. I was wondering what they ever did to you."

He shrugged and picked up a chip, examining it dramatically in case Rose had pranked him by drenching his chips in the vinegar she favoured and he disliked intensely. She had managed to do it a couple times, always laughing at his shell-shocked reaction when it burned his tongue, and he'd learned to be careful. She smiled teasingly at his inspection, outright grinning when he decided the chip was safe to eat and carefully brought it to his lips. It was, perhaps, a bit too hot, and burned the sensitive flesh of his tongue and cheeks as he chewed, but there was no vinegar, so he went about eating his food normally.

A few minutes later, he looked up to see Rose eyeing him suspiciously. "What?" He asked, his mouth full.

She cocked an eyebrow. "How do you mean, 'what'? You spend the first five minutes looking at your chips like they'd insulted you, and you haven't spoken in," she checked her watch, "fifteen minutes? I don't think I've ever seen you be quiet this long. We both know you've got a gob. So let's have it, then."

"Have what?"

She sighed. "Whatever's making you act like this." She used a chip as a pointer. "Why are you so on edge, James?"

He dropped the chip that had been in his hand and leaned back, running the hand that wasn't covered in grease and salt through his hair. He'd hoped to find a more meaningful way to do this, but he should have known that Rose would notice immediately if something was off about him. He should have planned in advance, he berated himself. Without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small silver keys, attached to a silver loop, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her.

She picked them up and examined them carefully, then looked up, frowning at him. "What's this?"

"Keys to my flat," James mumbled. He rushed to explain, "I know you know where the emergency one is, but I just thought…I wanted you to have your own, so that, I don't know, if we have to usethe emergency one and forget to put it back out, or…I don't know. I just wanted you to have it."

She was quiet for a moment, looking between him and the key with an unreadable expression on her face. "You want me to have a key to your flat?" She said, her cheeks tinging pink and her lips curling into a shy smile. He swallowed and nodded. Her smile widened and she stood, leaning across the table to plant a kiss on his surprised lips, leaving the lingering burn of the vinegar on his skin. When he met her gaze, she was grinning widely at him, her tongue poking out from under her canine in that smile that he so desperately loved. She leaned back in her seat and pulled out her keys from her purse, attaching his flat key to its own loop. The sight of it on her key ring made his lips pull into an exuberant smile.

Deftly, she reached into her purse again and pulled out two key, joined by the same silver ring that his had been ring, and handed them to him. He took them hesitantly, offering her a questioning smile. She grinned. "I had them made a few days ago," she informed him. "I was just waiting for the right time. That's the one for the building, and that's the one for my flat," she pointed to each one in turn.

James grinned widely and went about attaching the keys to his own set, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. When he looked back up at Rose, she was smiling just as widely, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip. Suddenly, he was very eager to use his keys to get into her building. "Are you finished?" He asked quickly.

She laughed and looked down at her half-full basket of chips. "No," she chuckled.

He grinned. He could wait.

A massive thanks to everyone who stuck by me for the entire story - your guys' support has meant the world to me. I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Kindly stay tuned for an outtake, which should be posted relatively soon as a new chapter on this story.

Remember to leave a review or a comment and let me know what you thought!