2. Fun

The Doctor was not skilled at waiting. Well, it wasn't so much a lack of skill as it was his intolerance for being bored. To wait was to be bored, and to be bored was not something he could take, even in small doses. Where was the fun it that? Busy life, keep moving forward. Yet, here he was, being bored…of waiting…for her.

He stood at the console, clad once again in one of his ubiquitous pin-stripe suits and a clean pair of trainers, fidgeting with various controls and dials until the TARDIS, who had obviously had quite enough of that behaviour, shocked him. Giving the console an offended glare, he popped his newly burned finger into his mouth and took up pacing instead. What was taking Rose so long?

His preparations had taken little more than an hour, and that included the dinner reservations, moving the TARDIS to the correct day, and ferreting out enough actual currency to pay for dinner. He had taken the extra time to make his hair presentable and come up with a nice shirt and tie, but he'd still ended up back in the console room first. Women and their need to be sooo slo–no, deliberate–about dressing! So, he'd called to confirm their reservations, double checked the money to make sure that it was from the right time period, and had moved quickly on to fidgeting.

Not quite sure why he was so impatient, The Doctor glanced at his watch and reviewed his plan for the evening. Rose had requested a proper sit down dinner. Check. She had insisted on the use of actual currency. He tapped his jacket pocket where said currency resided. Check. She had been specific about the dinner occurring "someplace nice." Well, he'd actually been here once before, as it happened. He was pretty sure that she'd like it. Not that he was trying to impress her or anything. Where was he? Oh, yes. Check.

The TARDIS was around the corner from their destination. He'd made sure that they'd arrived at the right time, and he was ready. Now all he needed was Rose.

The Doctor was in mid-pace when he finally heard her footfalls on the grating behind him. He turned, prepared to say something about how they needed to get going or they'd be late. The words died in his throat. Five billion languages at his disposal and all he could manage was the untranslatable "guh."

She walks in beauty, he thought faintly.

From her elegant chignon to her strappy red high-heeled sandals, Rose looked absolutely amazing. Her red silk dress somehow contrived to be dressy yet simple, as well as completely sexy.

She was perfection.

Oh, he was doomed.

"So, how do I look?" she asked as she slowly turned in a circle to give him the full effect of her outfit. The handkerchief hem of her dress flowed seductively around her calves as she turned and the combs in her hair gleamed as she moved. Watching her, The Doctor had a sudden mad impulse to forget about dinner altogether. There were plenty of other things they could do in the TARDIS together. They could…go for a swim in the pool, or watch a film, or…other… stuff. He was also fiercely glad that Steve and Mike wouldn't see her like this. He'd gone forward a month for their reservation, and those gentlemen were long gone.

When Rose had finished one revolution, The Doctor found himself standing directly in front of her with no clear memory of having moved. He was just suddenly there. She looked up at him, surprise evident on her face. He gazed down at her, his eyes lingering on her slightly parted lips. Then he reached out one hand and ran his knuckles gently along her left cheek.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

The Doctor burned with the need to close the space between them. It took all of his willpower not to tilt her head up slightly and ravish her lips as she stood there looking up at him with a slightly dazed expression. His hands closed around her upper arms…

Rose blinked, startled, and The Doctor came to his senses abruptly. Dinner. He was supposed to be taking her to dinner, not seducing her in the control room. For all he knew, she didn't even think of him that way. She was young and impressionable, and he shouldn't take advantage of that. He was supposed to be behaving like a civilized 900 year-old being. And that included escorting her properly to the promised sit down dinner.

"Dinner! Right, then. We should be off. Don't want to be late." He turned away from her, straightened his jacket, and offered her his arm.

Rose stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she took his arm and followed him out of the TARDIS.

After carefully locking the door, he led Rose through the parking lot, secretly amused by the fact he had actually parked the TARDIS in a designated parking area for once. It was a very short walk to the Hanamaulu Café, so they arrived with time to spare. They paused before entering the unassuming building while Rose sounded out the name of the restaurant. Then, for a moment, she seemed to be comparing their attire to the rather plain front of the Café, and he could tell that she was not impressed. Smiling, The Doctor led her through the front door. He had a feeling her opinion was about to change.

The host greeted them warmly, led them down a long hall, and out into the Tea Garden. The Doctor glanced around quickly. The bonsai trees, koi pond, little path, and the large open sided tea room were all exactly as he remembered them. And it was all theirs. He hadn't wanted to share this dinner with anyone but Rose, so he'd reserved the entire room for the two of them. If Rose's face was anything to go by, he'd managed to impress her after all. She simply radiated delight, even when he reminded her that they'd have to take off their shoes before entering the room. His trainers and her heels stood next to each other on the step when they took their places at the short table and carefully eased their legs into the well underneath.

The Doctor was halfway through formulating his order when Rose spoke, her voice deliberately casual.

"So, how did you find this place?"

Glancing over at her, The Doctor found her face hidden behind the menu. Shrugging, he told her the truth. Well, most of it anyway. "I was here once before. It was a long time ago, in my personal timeline that is, but it's just as I remember it."

"How long ago was that?"

Was she going somewhere with this line of questioning? He thought about his answer. It was probably best to keep it short. For some reason, he really didn't feel like reminding her how very large an age gap existed between them. "Oh…about…800 years. Give or take a decade or two. You know, they have excellent sashimi here. We'll have to get some of that. Oh, and tea, of course."

Rose giggled. "Oh, of course."

"Personally, I like Alian sea bass, not that you could get that here, so I suppose that salmon will do. Tasty fish, salmon. Well, when it's not full of those toxic chemicals you humans insist on dumping in the oceans. Mercury has a distinctly unpleasant aftertaste, I've found. Do you have a favorite kind of fish?"

"Yeah, the kind that goes with chips," Rose replied, kicking him lightly on the shin. "I've had sushi before you know, Doctor. London's gotten quite cosmopolitan since Mr. Chicken's time. Salmon's good." She glanced at him over the edge of the menu. "So, were you here alone last time?"

He really didn't want to be talking about this right now. "Nope. Should we order an appetizer? I'm famished."

Rose closed her menu and set it on the table in front of her. Her face didn't give The Doctor any idea what to expect, but he watched her fold her arms with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Maybe you should just order for the both of us, since you know this place so well," she suggested. Before The Doctor could say anything, she added, "Was it Sarah Jane?"

"Was what Sarah Jane?" Wait. Is she…jealous?

"Was Sarah Jane the one you were here with before?" Rose asked, sounding a bit exasperated.

She is! Well, this is…promising, he mused. Well, it would be promising if there were any possibility of that sort of thing between them. Sadly, it also meant that he had to tell her the truth, and that involved talking about things that he'd rather not…as well as reminding her of his age again. He set down his menu reluctantly. "No, I was here with Susan."

"Susan?" Rose looked puzzled.

The Doctor took a deep breath. The pain was still there. When would it stop hurting so much to talk about his family? "Yes, Susan. She's my…was my granddaughter. She wanted…well, to come here and do the touristy thing. Watch some hula dancing. Eat poi. She was always so curious about other cultures, times, and places. Her favorite time was," he had to stop and clear his throat before he could continue, "1960's London, actually." If he tried, he could still remember how she looked back then with perfect clarity, her eyes so bright and alive. Susan was gone now, just like all the others. Oh, how he missed her. His people, his home, even many of his enemies had all fallen to dust. It was with an effort that he brought himself back to the present. "Anyway, she wanted to eat some raw fish so we came here. She liked it, so I thought you might like it too."

He sighed. Why had he given in and brought up Susan in the first place? True, Rose had asked, but now the whole mood of the conversation had changed. He'd planned everything so that she would have a good time tonight. Sitting here with a moody Time Lord would not be particularly thrilling for her, he imagined. Now what was he supposed to do?

The Doctor's eyes were focused on his menu where it sat on the table and his thoughts were miles away, so he didn't notice Rose reach out her hand to rest it on top of his. When her thumb began to rub back and forth across his skin, he looked up at her surprised.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Rose's entire demeanor had changed. Her shoulders were slumped; her eyes downcast, even that indefinable sparkle that she carried around with her had dimmed.

This was not okay with The Doctor. It was his considered opinion that his strong, vibrant Rose should never look like that. In fact, now that he thought about it, he'd be hard-pressed not to hurt someone who put that subdued look on her face.

The situation obviously called for some sort of drastic action. But what?

Well, you could just snog her. That'll get her attention.

Ohhh, that's just great. That's all he needed right now. That voice. It was back. He would expect the illusory voice of Captain Jack to suggest something like that. Never mind that he was obviously going mad. How else could he explain the fact that Jack Harkness seemed to have taken up residence in his brain. There was no way that he would ever…

Wait. That might actually work. Well, if Plan A didn't work, that is.

Simply smiling at Rose and willing her to look up at him had no effect. He tried beaming. He tried grinning. No luck. So, with a bit of a mental sigh he moved on to Plan B. He could have stalled longer and actually just tried talking her out of her funk, but…well, he was hungry, so he was going for maximum effect in the minimum of time.

The Doctor took hold of the hand that Rose had placed on top of his, raised it to his lips, and placed the lightest of kisses on her knuckles.

Rose's astonished gaze flew back up to his then dropped to where he still held her hand in his.

The Doctor grinned at her, and then released her hand to pick up his menu once more. "Ummm…do you still want me to order for both of us?"

Rose smiled wryly. "Oh, why not."

The rest of dinner went along much more smoothly. Their food arrived quickly. The tea was marvelous. They even chatted about where they might go next. The only surprising thing, in The Doctor's mind at least, was the time that he looked up from his food to find Rose looking at him speculatively from across the table.

"What?"

Rose grinned. "Open your mouth," she instructed.

"Why?" The Doctor was somewhat puzzled by her request. What is she up to?

"Just open your mouth," she insisted.

Cautiously he complied, and Rose reached across the table to carefully drop a piece of salmon from between her chopsticks into his mouth.

"Good?" she asked.

The Doctor chewed and swallowed before agreeing that is was incredibly good fish.

Encouraged, Rose offered him a tiny bit of octopus.

In return, The Doctor offered her a bit of tuna. The sight of her lips closing around his chopsticks as she accepted his offering sent a little thrill through him. She shut her eyes, savoring the bit of fish with obvious enjoyment, and for a moment he pondered what she might taste like. He told himself sternly to behave. Down boy! But that didn't stop him from offering her several more choice morsels from his plate in succession.

By the time that they'd finished their green tea ice cream, Rose and The Doctor agreed that they were quite full, and, in Rose's case, a little bit sleepy. The Doctor paid their bill with a little flourish to show her that he had fulfilled that part of her request as well. Secretly, he was relieved that he had estimated the cost correctly. Once everything was settled, they made their farewells to the wait staff and went to retrieve their shoes from the step just outside of the room.

The Doctor had his trainers on in a flash, while Rose, who was trying to be careful of her stockings, was still fastening her heels. He was watching the koi in the pond when she finally stood and promptly caught a heel on the edge of the step. Even being well aware that he had fast reflexes, he was still a bit surprised that he managed to catch her as she fell. They stared at each other in shock for a moment, and it slowly dawned on The Doctor that he was actually holding Rose in his arms…and he really didn't want to let her go. It wasn't as if she was any great burden, and it was quite possible that she'd hurt her ankle just then. He would just have to carry her back to the TARDIS and check out her ankle in the infirmary. It had nothing to do with the feel of her arm around his neck, or the way she felt cradled against him. Nor did it have anything to do with her perfume or how close her lips were to his.

Oh, Hell.