A/N: Heya. This one will be split into two chapters. Hope you like :) xx

Talk of Boyfriends and Skinny-Dipping

part 1

The Doctor and Rose had a lovely time on the planet Borachio one day. Well, a relatively lovely time. Aside from being mistaken for a couple and hence almost being forced into an exchange of gifts and uh, vows, everything had gone rather smoothly. Well. They'd almost got executed for their trouble, but it wasn't the most threatening of almost-deaths they'd had over the years. Death by over-consumption of candyfloss...that was so not a good one for the obituary; thank goodness they'd escaped. They got out of it pride intact, anyway. Well. Mostly.

Upon returning to the TARDIS, Rose asked the Doctor what sort of gifts they would have had to exchange, if, theoretically, they were, in actual fact, betrothed. He immediately started babbling a lecture-full of details, eventually finishing up with, "And then the man would buy his uh, woman, some sort of nicely-wrapped parcel of gemstones and petals and other pretty things."

"Ha! What a boyfriend you'd be!" Rose laughed.

"Hmmm?" he questioned, swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat.

"Good job they were wrong about us, eh? Can't imagine you doing that!" she giggled.

"Tread softly because you tread on my dreams," he muttered to himself sulkily.

"What was that?" she asked, not hearing his murmur.

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing. Just...poetry..." he replied distractedly, twisting and pulling random buttons and levers on the console, pretending she hadn't just hurt him.

"Doctor...?" she edged tentatively. "Are you...what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he insisted, still avoiding meeting her eye.

She laid a hand on his arm, and he tensed. He knew then that he'd given himself away. He never flinched from her touch. Not ever. He'd done it now...

"What's going on, Doctor?" she demanded. "Tell me."

"I'm fine, Rose," he huffed, moving away from her, pulling the console screen around to him to studiously absorb the Gallifreyan symbols, reading and re-reading things he really didn't need to read or re-read.

"I know you," she countered. "Something's wrong. What is it?" She yanked on his elbow to turn him around.

Heaving a sigh, he turned to face her, removing his glasses so that he could rub at his eyes wearily. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired, that's all," he lied.

"Rubbish," she retorted hotly, her hand now on his chin to force him to look at her. He watched her unblinkingly as she swallowed heavily. "You're scaring me. Tell me the truth," she whispered.

His expression changed then; his anguish now all about her. He didn't want to scare her. He didn't want her to notice the pain her words had invoked at all. She may have upset him, but he didn't want her feeling guilty over it. No way. Rose Tyler was supposed to be happy, and happy she would stay.

He rested his hand over hers, still at his chin, and brought them down to their sides, entwining their fingers tightly. "Seriously, Rose," he whispered back, offering her a small smile. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"Is it something I've said? Something I've done?" she asked frantically, involuntarily stepping infinitesimally closer.

"No," he told her firmly, shaking his head. "No, of course not."

"It is, isn't it?" she contested, her voice wavering. "I can tell when you're lying. What have I done? You aren't gonna..." she trailed off, her eyes wandering to the console screen, standing on tiptoes and peering over his shoulder to see where the next stop was.

"Gonna what?" he prompted, watching her sigh in relief when she realised he'd not actually set any co-ordinates; for the Powell Estate or otherwise.

"You were acting so weird, I thought I might've done something to make you take me back to Mum's," Rose admitted quietly.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "What? No!" he exclaimed. "What, just like that? You think I'd drop you home? Just...just...just like...that?"

Rose blinked at him shock, unused to hearing such strong, almost angry emotions directed personally at her.

His brow furrowed, he awaited her response. "Well? Don't you trust me?" he demanded.

"Of course I do," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I just never know what's going on inside that Time Lord brain of yours, do I?"

He rolled his eyes, and abruptly dropped her hand, swiftly turning to pace back and forth in front of her.

"What are you doing? Why are you pacing?" she asked nervously.

"I'm not," the Doctor insisted, suddenly coming to a stop. He was back in front of her in a flash. "Listen carefully," he requested quietly. "Right now, these thoughts are going through my head: firstly, I'm not taking you back. You're staying here, right here, with me. For as long as you want - "

" – forever," she interjected, sounding so incredibly certain, even as she worried over his acceptance of that fact.

His hearts clenched at her words, as they always did when she promised him that, and he exhaled roughly. "Good," he replied softly. Tugging his ear in a nervous gesture, he continued, "Secondly, please don't worry about me. That's the last thing you should be doing. I'm just a bit...jittery, I suppose, after our last...well, you know. Brush with death," he said, smiling weakly. "Thirdly, I could really do with a cuppa right now, do you fancy one?"

Rose bit her lip and nodded quickly, rasping out a hurried, "Yeah, I'll do it," before turning to go and put the kettle on.

"And fourthly, or, really, maybe firstly, 'cos I think it's, uh, weeellll, probably the most prevalent thought in my mind a good proportion of the time - " he continued, seriously noting that he really, really shouldn't risk ruining everything by saying this, but finding himself completely unable not to. " - I'd rather like to kiss you."

She stopped in her tracks, breathing heavily, certain that she'd misheard.

"Rose?" he murmured urgently, his tone emanating anxiety.

Rose span around so fast it made her feel dizzy. "Yes?" she replied shakily.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, stepping closer, his eyes concentrated on hers.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, I really am."

His eyes narrowed in brief confusion, but then she was there, right up close, her lips so close to his that all he'd need to do would be lean down an inch or two, and then they'd be kissing.

"Doctor," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his chin. Then, her eyes glinting mischievously, she raised her voice to declare, "Race you to the kitchen!"

The Doctor stood dumbly, watching her run off giggling, and had absolutely no idea what to do. Then, he remembered she'd declared a race, and his competitive nature got the better of him, so he ran after her, wanting to catch up.

He didn't really think of it at the time, because he was a bit distracted, but it occurred to him later on that maybe she'd stopped running after leaving the console room. Because he certainly caught up with her very quickly, and she'd had about ten, maybe twenty, seconds head start.

"Call this a race, Rose Tyler?" he chuckled, diving in front of her to reach the TARDIS kitchen first.

Rose smiled, following him into the room. "Damn," she cursed fondly, with a wide smile. "You win."

"Do I get a prize?" he asked nonchalantly, flicking the switch of the kettle on to boil the water.

She nodded. "Yeah. You said something about a kiss earlier. Maybe that's what you ought to redeem as your spoils." She giggled when his eyes widened in hope. "Or you could just win a jar of marmalade. Your call," she shrugged.

He pondered this for a moment, evidently torn. "Can't I have both?" he suggested brightly, as she took the inviting jar out of the cupboard.

"Nope," Rose grinned, waving it in her hand. "Don't be greedy. It's one or the other. Don't take too long deciding; I haven't got all day."

"Somewhere to be?" he inquired playfully.

"Depends on what you choose," she shot back instantly, her eyebrow arching.

"It's a really tough decision, though," he teased.

"You didn't mention anything about thinking about marmalade earlier," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I didn't know we had any left until you just showed me. Best not to think about something you can't have, eh?" the Doctor replied. Then he realised what he'd just said, and the amused look on Rose's face made him flush. "Er, that is...I mean, you know...er...not that I thought I could, uh, as they say, have you..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Neither have I actually thought, ahem, about, well, that. I mean, you. You, like that. Much. Gah, I mean...! Rassilon, I'm useless at this. Um. Anyway."

Rose looked at the floor for a moment, contemplating whether she should make the offer she was about to make. Then she thought, to hell with it; she'd let him have the ball in his court, and then he could do whatever it was he really wanted.

"You can have me," she said simply, looking at him again. "If you want."

His chest heaved with the sudden rapid speed his breathing had become. "I didn't think..."

"What?" she urged.

"Are you just...messing around?" he asked quietly, his throat dry. "Playing a game?"

"Are you?" she retorted.

"No," he murmured. "I'd always choose you over marmalade; over bananas, even, in fact! You must know that," he finished tenderly.

Rose pursed her lips to hold back a laugh; oh, the sentimental words of the last Time Lord...how romantic they were...

"Is that the closest I'm gonna get to a declaration?" she teased softly, eyes dancing.

"No," he answered instantly. "Well. If you're just pretending, then yes. Wouldn't want to damage my pride now, would I? Got to have some dignity."

"The kettle's boiled," she noted, tilting her head to it.

"I don't really care," he responded distractedly.

"Right," she smiled.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" she asked.

"Well, what do you really..." He gulped. "Um. Feel. What do you really feel?" he finished. Oh Rassilon, he thought to himself, I've become one of those men, one of those random, sappy human men who talks about feelings. How has she done this to me?

"Are you trying to get me to say it first?" she asked, eyebrows lifting.

The Doctor feigned ignorance. "Say what first?"

"The...you know, those...those words," she babbled, embarrassed; hoping she hadn't read him wrong.

He smiled despite himself. "Which words?"

"The important words," she sighed, annoyed with him for making her spell it out.

"Nope, still don't know what you mean," he teased.

"Well, I guess you'll never know, then, will you?" she mumbled, walking around him to pour out the hot water and put some teabags into their mugs. She reached for the sugar at the same time as the Doctor, and he refused to let go, trapping her fingers against the sugar pot.

Sighing, she looked at him exasperatedly. "What are you doing?"

The Doctor frowned at her, confused at her sudden change of mood, and let go of her hand and the sugar, letting her have it. "I'll be in the console room," he muttered, before turning and fleeing the room, picking up the jar of marmalade on his way out.

Rose hunched over the counter, letting out a long breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Why couldn't he just be straight with her for once? Tell her what he meant, instead of being so emotionally inept that it was all down to her again? She was fed up with it. She was always the one putting her feelings out there, waiting for him to dash them the second she had. He could never even finish his sentences properly. He could never even initiate anything further than an intense bit of banter. He needed to man-up. He didn't deserve her saying it first, if he couldn't even just bloody well act on his thoughts and simply kiss her, for Christ's sake!

She breathed in again, sharply. Then, she collected herself, spooned out his four sugars and her two, retrieved the milk from the fridge, and finished making their tea. With another deep breath, she straightened up, and left the kitchen on a mission, holding the mugs in front of her defiantly.

As she walked into the console room, she spilt the tea a bit and almost fell over, only just regaining her balance as the TARDIS landed. She couldn't help but think, a little resentfully, that he could've warned her that they were going somewhere; he knew he hardly ever managed a gentle landing.

She watched him quietly as he walked quickly down the ramp, opening the doors to poke his head outside. Evidently satisfied he'd got the right place, if the smile on his face when he turned back around was anything to go by, he strolled back over to the console.

He caught sight of her then, and smiled softly. "Thought I'd take us somewhere nice to drink the tea," he explained, gesturing for her to come over. She did, and he took the mugs from her hand, tilting with his head in a motion for her to go outside.

Rose's eyes narrowed sceptically.

"Well, go on," he insisted, nodding to the doors again.

She slowly smiled back at him, her sulk slowly dissipating, and opened the doors, stepping outside. "Oh. My. God," she breathed out roughly, mouth hanging open as she stared up at the sky. She definitely liked him again; her bad mood at his cowardly evasions was forgotten.

He followed her outside, and handed her mug to her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked softly, taking in the admiration and awe in her expression and basking in it. It was what filled his dreams at night - if he slept, of course: seeing that smile and look of wonderment on her face. Yearning to cause it, over and over and over again. She was beautiful; more beautiful than this place and a thousand other star-filled skies, to him. He had to tell her so. He had to tell her a lot of things, he knew that. He just wished she'd help him. It'd been so long since he'd had to tell someone he - weeellll. Actually, when had he, before? That was one to ponder over. Maybe he really was breaking a trend of several lifetimes with her.

He wondered if she realised just how special to him she was. Just how difficult it was for him to tell her how he felt, because he simply couldn't comprehend the magnitude of it.