a/n: Rose and the Doctor are having a break from running for the evening, in more ways than one. Hope you enjoy! :D
Not Romantic
He wasn't trying to be romantic. No. Not at all. Of course not. Don't be silly. Him = Time Lord = no romance.
Right. Glad that's sorted.
She couldn't help but think about it, with them both laying there together like that. All of it, it seemed so real, so amazing, so permenant. She couldn't imagine ever not travelling with him. This was going to be her life now; him and her, travelling the stars together hand in hand. But one day...one day he'd have to lose her. She'd...and he'd...
Oh dear, she was pondering again. Which would do neither if them any good. Especially with the implication of her one day dying hanging between her question:
"Will you miss me? When I'm gone?" Rose asked gently, already suspecting – well, hoping – she knew the answer.
"Nah," he sniffed indifferently, choosing to watch the sight in front of him, rather than succumb to gazing into her chocolate brown eyes.
Rose raised an eyebrow, her lips upturned in a small smirk, and after a few moments of her disbelieving silence, he finally met her gaze.
"I think even if I'd never met you I'd miss you," he replied softly.
She snorted. "That sounds a bit romantic. Like it's from a rom-com or something," Rose laughed.
He wrinkled his nose. "Romantic? Nah. Just the truth."
"Right. Well. Thanks," she replied slowly, her brow furrowing.
"My pleasure."
He turned back to watch the fireworks.
"It doesn't really make sense, though," Rose pressed.
"No?" he answered, without looking.
"No."
"Oh. I thought it sounded quite poignant."
"You mean, romantic," she smirked.
Again, he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "No. Not romantic. I don't do romantic," he insisted.
"Right."
Neither spoke for several minutes, both enjoying the display. Rose inched closer to him when she thought he was too engrossed in what was in front of him to notice.
"What do you mean it doesn't make sense?" he asked abruptly, turning his attention to her face again when he'd both pondered over the question and not looked at her face for far too long, in his opinion. He then realised their faces were now very close. She must've crept closer to him while he was distracted. Mind you, it was a bit cold, so he could hardly blame her from wanting to get a bit closer to him. For his body heat and all that. And it wasn't like he minded her snuggling into his side; far from it, in fact. Maybe it would've been chivalrous of him to offer her his coat, or at least let them both lie on it, to put a layer between her and the ground. Like back with the apple-grass, he remembered fondly.
But then again, best not overdo these things, or else she'll read something into it - he'd already inadvertently given off the romantic vibe once this evening.
Weelll, maybe twice, if you counted the fact that they were spending the night lying on soft grass watching fireworks.
Three, if you take into account the fact that said fireworks were in Paris, around the Eiffel Tower.
Okay, fine, four times, if you were to count the erm, candlelit meal they just ate – but seriously, that wasn't his intention; it was the only place they could find that wasn't full, and...
...ignore the fact that he'd already booked the table. Just...just ignore that. Ignore it! He wasn't romantic. This wasn't a...a date. Certainly not. He just wanted to cheer her up after the exhausting and somewhat depressing week they'd had.
So this wasn't a date, just him giving her a bit of break. Something for her to smile about. Anyway, according to her, he didn't do dating and dancing, and that was fine by him. More than fine. Absolutely, no-question-about-it fine.
And, anyway, why would he offer her his coat when her being cold gave him the chance to cuddle her closer? And...
Okay, he didn't just think that. If he started thinking like that, it'd totally contradict his insistence that he was not being romantic. It was a bit of a bad omen that he always thought things like that, but never mind. Right. Look. This wasn't a date.
(Now, he kept telling himself this, but did he really believe it?)
This wasn't some grand romantic gesture. And it certainly wasn't him, using the cold as an excuse to hug her and...oh, wait, she just said something...
"Doctor, how could you miss me if you never even met me? Hmm? It's impossible," Rose replied, and the Doctor came out of his rambling reverie to concentrate on her words.
Except, he got a bit distracted. His gaze flickered to her hand, which was inconspicuously resting on his forearm. Not that he minded. His arm was a bit cold, and her hand was warm, and...
He cleared his throat. "I just would."
"You wouldn't know what you were missing," Rose countered, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Yeah. I would."
"How come?"
He sighed wistfully. "Oh, so many reasons. For one, I'm a Time Lord, remember, so I can see a multitude of different things that could possibly happen."
Rose thought that over. "Wait, so you knew that I would come travelling with you before all that happened?" she asked, a bit angrily, he thought with a wince.
"No, I didn't say that."
"Good, 'cos that'd be like I had no...well, no free will," she said, her eyes crinkling while she screwed up her face adorably, trying to work out whether she'd really care or not, when it came to him. Then she realised, of course she would. She was still Rose Tyler, stubborn as hell. She hated it when the Doctor decided things for her, even when he was doing it because 'he knew best' or whatever. Hmph.
"What I meant was, I can see, in here," he continued, gesturing to his head. "Different what-ifs and could-bes and at that time, I had no idea I was going to meet someone that changed my life, but now I couldn't imagine not being wit..." he trailed off when he realised Rose was staring at him. "What?"
Rose shook her head. "Nothing. Just...no, it doesn't matter." Changed his life?
"No, go on," he prompted.
"It's not important, you carry on," she insisted. Changed his life? Well, yeah, she supposed she had changed his life – now, he had someone to show the universe to and have a certain responsibility for and that and...but, still. That could've been anyone. Changed his life? Did he really mean her? And – oh, he was narrowing his eyes at her now. "Seriously, it's fine, go on," she told him, with an encouraging smile.
"Right. Weeelll, if I hadn't have met you that day, I reckon I'd feel...well, it's like when you walk into a room, and then you completely forget why you walked in there in the first place, yeah? You try and try to remember why you went in there, and sometime you're lucky and when you retrace your steps something'll jog your memory. But in this case, I wouldn't exactly be able to do that. I wouldn't be able to grasp a hold of a memory of fall – meeting you, and yet I'd feel as though something were missing."
Rose shifted slightly, suddenly very aware of his gaze on her and her blushing cheeks. Her shoulder unintentionally bumped his, and instead of pulling back, she let herself lean into him slightly.
"So..." she started. But she was still as confused as before their conversation had developed, and she shrugged. "I s'pose," she said instead, in some sort of acknowledgement.
"I'd see people every day, doing what we do. Weeelll, not exactly, obviously – not many people in the universe travel through time and space in a TARDIS; in fact, we are the only privileged two," he clarified unnecessarily, with a cursory grin and wink. Which consequently made her blush again, but he didn't notice; it was dark, and the fireworks were coming to a stop and therefore so were the soft glows and sparkles of colour that had been lighting up Rose's face for him so far tonight. "But you know - the friendship stuff," he continued. "The...the hand-holding and hugging and all that. I'd see other people share that and miss the fact that I didn't have it."
"But..." she pondered. "But that's you just being envious, or missing, like, an idea of meeting someone and being friends with them. Not me, necessarily," she argued. "And anyway, even if you hadn't met me, you'd have met someone else, and experienced the same sorts of stuff with them, right?"
The Doctor looked at her meaningfully, but he suspected she'd never realise just how special she was. How special to him, she was. "I don't think so."
"But you wouldn't have been alone forever. You'd have picked someone up sooner or later. Or they'd have picked you," she considered, not even realising she'd begun to run her fingers softly along his arm.
(She did briefly wonder why she felt so uneasy thinking of him being with someone else rather than her, however. Then she realised that she knew why, so she should stop kidding herself with that old denial trick.)
"True," he granted. "But it wouldn't have been the same, because they wouldn't have been you."
He vaguely realised that this conversation was leading him to admit a few things that he thought he'd be keeping to himself for eternity. But before he could dwell on that for too long, he had better things to realise, and he swallowed thickly when Rose's fingers made their way to his wrist, slipping under the sleeves of both his coat and jacket.
He didn't think she realised what she was doing, so he didn't stop her. Or else she might feel embarrassed or something.
Plus, you know, it felt quite nice. Her feather-light touch made him shiver in a way he hadn't shivered in...ooh, at least three centuries.
Maybe longer.
She stroked his palm with her thumb.
He swallowed.
Probably longer.
"Yeah, but it's all just circumstance, right? Not like...fate or destiny – you don't believe in that stuff," she pointed out.
"Maybe not, but I think you're..." he paused hesitantly. Should he really tell her? It'd be the perfect time to, he knew that – what with where the conversation had been going and her fingers caressing his wrist and Paris and fireworks and candlelit dinner and...that feeling in the air. That...that weird feeling. Lovely, enticing feeling. A feeling of...well, of anticipation. Excitement. A feeling that he'd begun to notice came hand-in-hand with watching Rose Tyler, being with Rose Tyler, talking to Rose Tyler, hugging Rose Tyler...et cetera.
He knew that she could feel the pound of his pulse against her fingers, and he knew that her heart was beating just as fast, because in the gorgeously tense, silent bubble they were residing in right now, on their little hill overlooking the city that was alive with the laughter and singing that they couldn't hear, only feel in their hearts, because she was listening for his answer and he was looking at her, and really, did people expect him to be able to listen to lots of things at once?
Because of course, he was a Time Lord, with superior senses and such, and he could usually concentrate on a whole medium of tasks at the same time, but listening out for all things Rose and nothing else was something he was doing now, and a bomb could have gone off a few metres behind them and he wouldn't have heard it, or given it the time of day because, oh, Time; Time could be running out soon, and if he didn't tell her, if he didn't just let her know the very simple fact, the thing that'd been driving the conversation from its very instigation, then he'd never say it, and maybe one day it would be too late, and he didn't want it to be too late, and he...oh, he wanted her to know. And he wanted her to feel it too.
"What, Doctor?" she prompted, tugging his sleeve when he appeared to go off in some sort of trance.
He snapped out of his musings, and took a deep breath. "I think you're meant to be here. With me. I think..." he trailed off, his voice cracking. He tried to slow down his heart and mind and just remember that he knew all this, he didn't just think it, so there was nothing to be afraid of; not really.
"Yeah?" she asked nervously, her eyes wide and expectant.
He tried again. "I think me and you...we're...weeelll, put it this way: I was meant to find you, and you were meant to save me, and I was meant to ask you to come with me, and you were meant to refuse, then I was meant to do something I've never done before, and ask again, and you were meant to say yes, and then, we, we, Rose Tyler, me and you, the Doctor and Rose, Rose and the Doctor..." He was smiling now; his smile that was reserved for her and only her; the slow, soft smile that she knew meant he was actually, really, really, real-life happy.
"We...?" she urged, her voice sounding suspiciously high-pitched, and a mirroring smile forming on her face.
The Doctor beamed at her. "We, are meant to be here. You and me. And – right, you're going to have to suspend your disbelief here for a moment, because I'm going to tell you something very, very important. Okay?"
She nodded, biting her lip in apprehension.
"Right. Okay. Now, I'm not, in any way, shape or form, trying to be romantic here, okay? But..." he trailed off again, steadying his breathing.
Rose raised her eyebrows. "But...?"
"But, I think, Rose Tyler, despite the er...small matter of us being different species, and...well, me being ridiculously too old for you, I think, it may be a bit possible, that we are meant to be together."
Her breath hitched and she bit her lip harder.
"I mean, think about it," he continued, as if trying to justify it all. "All those times we've been separated, or I've sent you home, or whatever...you've always come back to me. I've always, always, got you back. And so I'm thinking, perhaps, that the universe has a) decided to be very kind to me for once, and b) decided that it cannot possibly even try to take you away, because you're far too stubborn, and I'm far too possessive, and we're both far too in lo - "
Rose's grip on his wrist tightened dramatically when she heard him almost say those words, and she stared at him silently, wondering if, now that he'd caught himself before they'd accidently tumbled from his lips, he would ever actually confess them out loud.
The Doctor stared silently back at her, his eyes wide, his mouth still half-open. Half-through saying the word.
Something in the air between them made them both realise, simultaneously, that their bodies should no longer have a few inches between them.
Perhaps it was the cold breeze, but Rose fancied it was some sort of electrical pulse, heightened sexual tension passing through the space between them, that initiated their gravitation towards each other. He might insist on not being a romantic, but she had no problem with letting herself dwell on those wonderful clichés of romantic films and such.
Anyway, fact was, they both leaned in; the Doctor balanced on his elbows so that he could hover over Rose as she silently took his lead and retreated to lie on her back. Her fingers left his wrist so that her arms could wrap around his waist and pull him closer, so close that their foreheads pressed together and their unsteady breaths were mingled. His knee nudged its way in between her legs, and she closed her eyes, praying that she wasn't dreaming all of this. Opening her eyes again, she found herself staring into the Doctor's dark eyes, and nothing, nothing, would stop her from kissing him now, because she so wasn't dreaming, and he was practically on top of her, and they were meant to be together, he'd said so himself.
And who could possibly argue with him on that? Not her, that was for sure.
...
A little while later...
"Oh wow," Rose breathed, her heart pounding.
"Yeah," agreed the Doctor, panting softly.
Rose turned onto her side and leaned against him. "You were right," she murmured happily.
"Course I was." He paused, stroking her hair lightly. "About what?"
"We are meant to be together," she beamed at him.
The Doctor grinned. "Yes we are." He looked at her seriously. "However, I really think we should move."
Rose looked around them. "Ah. Yeah. Forgot," she giggled.
"If we got arrested, I'm pretty sure the romance of the evening would officially be dead."
"Romance, eh? What happened to you not doing romantic?" she teased, pressing a kiss to his collar bone.
He sniffed huffily. "A man can change his mind, can't he?" he grumbled. Then he gasped. "Especially when you do that..."
Rose smirked. "Come on then. Let's go home. And you can show me both how romantic..." She paused, considering. "...and how not very romantic you can be," she grinned suggestively.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "That, Rose Tyler, is an offer I could never refuse." He glanced down at himself. "Better put my coat on first though."
She giggled again. "Yeah, think you'd better."
...
A/N: Reviews are loved as always :) xxx