A/ N This was originally going to be a part of the previous chapter, but this second half started taking on a life of its own and I wanted a bit more time to develop it. So I suppose that makes this part II of the previous.

A huge thank you again for your lovely reviews that have been keeping me eager to write! :)

Chapter 8

"Teamwork, remember? Said I'd help, too. It's only fair I return the favor."

Rose stood facing the Doctor, his offer of helping her still lingering in the air between them like the steam enveloping the room. Both were aware she was capable of doing this on her own, but that wasn't what this was about. Right now, in this current situation they had suddenly been thrust into the only thing they had was each other. A degree of openness and trust was building between them on a level a little deeper than they had yet reached and meaning just a little more than it ever had. Having nothing to depend on but each other, both needed to know each was there for the other unequivocally, even for something like this. He had let her do this for him and in return she would grant the same openness.

This evened the score between them, so to speak; but the unspoken intimacy of it, which went a little further than Rose thought the Doctor would have actually let himself go, left her momentarily silenced. Rose just wordlessly nodded in assent, then realized that wasn't exactly the best form of communication at the moment.

"Here," she said simply, taking his hand with the pitcher and guiding it down to the gushing water pouring in from the inlet beside them.

He stooped slightly and felt for the stream of water, then held the pitcher beneath. Once filled, he turned back in her direction. "Turn around," he softly requested. Rose silently complied. He then slowly felt up the base of her neck with his fingers, and Rose fought not to shiver, but the effort was futile as small tremors pulsed down her spine like tiny sparks. Moving higher, he found the top of her head and placed one hand there to guide him as he slowly poured the water down over her. Rose tipped her head back and closed her eyes. He repeated the motion several times, his fingers running through her slippery tresses, chasing after the water and clearing the lather.

Rose stood still as the steamy water sluiced down her body, the Doctor so close behind her that she could hear each inhale and exhale of breath as he assisted her with this simple yet so personal act. His hand then slid down her neck and over to her left shoulder. It rested there as he refilled the pitcher, then rinsed away the suds gathered there, the warm, clear water cascading across her shoulders and down her body, his sensitive fingertips acting as his eyes down her neck and across the tops of her shoulders to feel the clearing of the soapy foam.

The low sound of his voice drew Rose out of the nearly spellbound state that had enfolded her.

"You're cold," he breathed out, so close that she swore she could feel his words spoken across her skin. So dangerously close that if he inclined forward or she inched back any space between their bodies would vanish.

"W-what?" came her intelligent reply as her eyes slowly floated open. Then she registered his words. At the moment her body felt like it was smoldering. Being cold certainly wasn't an issue.

"You're shivering," he noted, fingertips still lingering on her slick skin.

Rose swallowed. Shivering, yes. Cold, no. "No...I..." She wasn't able to finish, but she didn't have to. He had to know. Surely. He was either being cheeky about it or looking for an excuse to end this before it became a little too much. Maybe it already had.

This moment between them felt intensely intimate, and a part of her didn't want it to have to end. But there was only so much rinsing to be done, though he might have already refilled and poured one or two times more than necessary. Rose certainly wasn't complaining about his...thoroughness. Once she was rinsed clean, she took the pitcher for him and placed it down on the side of the tub, then shut off the water.

"There," he spoke, his voice soft.

"Thank you," she managed to breathe out, and those two words were enough – neither too much nor lacking.

Rose took him by the hand and helped him maneuver the steps out of the tub. She then retrieved two of the large towels and handed one to him. Her entire body was tingling with electric energy, and she rubbed hard with the towel, trying to regain her equilibrium.

As they continued drying off, Rose winced as she rubbed a little too vigorously over a tender bruise on her shoulder.

The Doctor picked up on the sound instantly. "You're hurt," he stated, his body tensing.

"'S just a bruise," she tried to dismiss.

His jaw was tight. "Bring me the sonic."

"Doctor..."

"Please, Rose."

She'd never heard quite such an insistent tone from him edged with just a bit of desperation. This wasn't about simple bruises. He still felt responsible for their situation and at the moment completely powerless to change it. Powerless wasn't a position the Doctor was accustomed to being in and he felt driven to fix something here, even if it was just a bruise.

Wrapping and securing the towel around herself, Rose slipped out into the bedchamber and retrieved the sonic screwdriver from the impossibly-deep pocket of his jacket hanging in the wardrobe. She then returned to him.

The same thought she'd had about the sonic screwdriver right after the crash when she had been desperate to help the Doctor suddenly returned. There was a setting that could help with injuries. "Can this fix your eyes, too?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"It's not a magic wand," he replied ruefully. "It can do a great many things and even diminish bruises, but some things aren't as easily fixed. Even if the TARDIS med bay was in working order there isn't a simple cure for restoring eyesight. It's not something that has an instant remedy. They will heal on their own soon, though," he reiterated, trying to sound confident in the assertion.

"So will the bruises," Rose added quietly.

"Just let me do this for you, Rose. Please," he softly requested.

"This isn't your fault, you know," she restated, but placed the sonic in his outstretched hand none the less.

"Whether it is or it isn't, I can still help with this." The Doctor, able to quite literally work the sonic with his eyes closed, found the setting he needed with ease. "Show me where," he requested quietly.

Rose clutched the towel to the center of her chest with one hand and swept her damp hair away from her left shoulder with the other. She then took the Doctor's free hand and placed it there gently, that pleasurable tingle running through her again. "Here."

The Doctor ran the blue light over the tender flesh in a small, circular pattern, following behind it with his fingers, as if carefully checking his work. "Better?" he asked after a moment, softly stroking the skin.

Rose just nodded. Oh, she had to stop doing that. She swallowed and spoke up. "Yeah. Um, y-yes, thank you."

"Now, where else?"

Rose stood silent. It seemed he wasn't just letting this go. "'M fine. Really."

"Rose..." His tone harbored slight agitation, and it was clear he definitely wasn't letting this drop.

She decided to just let him do this. Somehow he needed to. Rose lowered the towel, then let it drop to the floor around her feet. She had a painful black bruise on her left hipbone. He wouldn't even have to know, but he was expecting honesty and she couldn't give him anything less in this moment.

Drawing a breath, she took his hand again and placed it softly on her hip, her voice equally soft and fighting to remain steady. "And here."

She tried not to tremor as his fingertips brushed over her flesh. She knew the trust she was offering him in this moment meant as much as anything else. And this wasn't a trust she would give to just anyone. He had never touched her here before, and just a few inches inward with his hand and he would be in a place he certainly never had.

He moved his fingers aside and ran the soothing beam over her injured skin, a little of the tenderness dissipating. He placed his hand there again, and Rose was sure this time he could feel her shiver. Then he stroked, and it was all she could do to breathe.

"That's better," he said quietly, almost to himself, his hand still lingering on her hip. "Where else?"

Rose squeezed her eyes shut. Was he trying to heal her or kill her? There was one last nasty bruise, and she determined to just let him finish what he'd started. "Just my left knee," she admitted, eyes still shut.

Then he did exactly what she had pictured he would, but the image in her mind didn't quite do the reality justice. He lowered himself down to his own knees, his head now level with the middle of her body. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, his face directly centered with a part of her body he'd never been face-to-face with, and even with a bandage covering his eyes Rose was quite certain she couldn't have possibly felt more exposed, even if he had been able to see her.

Then he was touching her, and Rose was pretty sure she was making a new bruise on her lip as she bit down hard. His open palm grazed up her calf as he found his way to her knee, then guided the light of the sonic there as well. This bruise was particularly sore and slightly swollen, but pain was the last sensation Rose felt at the moment.

"How does that feel?" he asked, the tips of his long fingers gently stroking.

Was he kidding? And oh, this meant she had to speak again. "G-good," she rasped. Rose cleared her throat and tried again. "Much better. Thank you."

The Doctor switched off the sonic screwdriver and stood. "No, Rose. Thank you."

The weight between them in that heavy moment suddenly vanished like a vapor as the Doctor did what he did best with his mercurial shifts in mood. He was then all bright grin and animated movement as he suddenly switched gears as quickly as he switched settings on the sonic screwdriver. "And...I can take care of this, too."

The sonic buzzed around her head in a flurry of movement, and within a few moments her hair was perfectly dry. He then did the same to himself, ruffling his hair with pizazz into its usual, perfect disarray once dry. Rose couldn't help but chuckle. Sometimes he could be so hot and cold and so...alien. Though she supposed the latter was to be expected. She touched the ends of her dry hair. "You're handy to have around, I'll give you that."

He grinned wide, and it would have seemed like a perfectly normal moment for them if Rose wasn't still standing there unclothed and the Doctor nearly so. "I'll just...um...bring you your clothes," she said. "They're right out here."

Rose went out and retrieved his suit, shirt, tie and trainers, and returned with them. "These have all been cleaned for you, courtesy of the house," she said, while placing the folded garments in his arms.

"Ah, brilliant!" he enthused, obviously glad to be getting back into the security of his usual clothes. Or clothes at all, for that matter.

And not that Rose had made a point to notice, but apparently he had dried his boxers in the time she'd been gone, so she wasn't going to even ask if he had a need for fresh underwear. They'd pushed the boundaries of 'awkward' far enough for one day.

Rose felt as if his eyes were on her as she turned and left, and she too was glad to be getting dressed again. Their shared bath had been far from unpleasant, but being naked around him like this was starting to get a little unnerving.

Rose went to the wardrobe to select one of the dresses that had been brought in for her the night before. She fingered the gowns, feeling the different textures and noting the styles. There was a part of her that always enjoyed this element of their travels, often able to experience the different fashions of the places or time periods they visited. She preferred her jeans and trainers when it came to what she wore on a regular basis, the style not only comfortable but also much more conducive to running (an important element, considering). But while she wasn't necessarily a 'girly girl,' once in a while she still liked to primp. If it hadn't been for the interruption of the werewolf, Rose always wished she'd been able to try on that lovely blue frock she had admired at the Torchwood House.

She selected a pale green dress, slightly less ornate than some of the others, but gorgeous none the less. The silky fabric had a wide scoop neckline, gathered bodice, and cinched waist. The three-quarter length sleeves poofed slightly between the two dark green woven cords crisscrossing the arms, and the A-line skirt was just a single layer of fabric so it had less fullness and more ease of movement than some of the others.

Rose slid on the dress, also stepping into a pair of pointed-toe slippers that complimented the look. The Doctor was still in the bathing chamber, and she assumed he was either fumbling just a little to get dressed or either giving her the privacy of dressing without him in the room since she'd already undressed with him there.

Since she still had a little time, Rose sat down at the dressing table to see what it contained. The room having been prepared ahead of time, it was stocked for their various needs. Rose didn't have access to her usual makeup, but there appeared to be cosmetics in one of the drawers, and she decided to experiment. She dusted her face with a translucent powder that gave off a very subtle luster, and dabbed her cheeks with a second powder that added just a touch of color. Opening the center drawer, she found a hairbrush and various jeweled clips and accessories. She brushed her hair out and pinned it up in a simple twist atop her head.

"I bet you look lovely."

The Doctor's warm voice caught her by surprise as he stood leaning against the open archway leading back into the bedchamber. His posture was casual, his hands tucked in his pinstriped pockets, one Converse-clad foot crossed over the other at the ankle. He looked like, well, himself, except for the strip of bandage covering his eyes as a stark reminder as to why he had to make assumptions about her appearance.

"You bet I look lovely...considering I'm human," she corrected, the light quip covering her reaction to the unexpected compliment and his current sight limitation.

He pushed off from the doorway and walked a few more feet into the room. "You know, Rose, that was a compliment. You need to learn how to say thank you," he teased.

Keeping with the light mood they were striving to create, Rose almost made a joking remark about him being the last type to give a lecture on manners. Instead, when she stood to face him, she had the strongest urge just to kiss him lightly on the newly-healed skin of his cheek and simply say thank you. She followed through with the second thought, anyway. She reached for his hand and spoke with gentle sincerity. "Thank you."

He was silent for a second, then beamed at her with a bright smile. "You're learning."

She just smiled back at him and tugged softly on his hand. "C'mon, you. Let's go exploring."