"Sweetheart?" Jackie said quietly, walking into the kitchen. Jackie was visiting after work for the first time in several days.
"Yeah mum?"
"Sweetheart, are you happy?"
Rose looked at her mother, surprised. "Mum! What does that mean? Of course I'm happy."
"Rose…" Her mother gave her a knowing look. "I just want you to be happy sweetheart. I want—"
"Mum, stoppit. I'm fine. I am happy."
"That's why you're tryin' to convince yourself, is it?"
"No," Rose replied with an exasperated sigh. "I…"
"You're pushing him away." Jackie stepped closer.
"What?"
"You are. You're pushing him away, Rose. If you don't stop, he'll leave."
Rose forced a blasé laugh. "Mum, don't be daft. We're fine. We're happy together. It's fine. You can stop worrying."
Jackie gave a quiet sigh and shrugged. "Take care then, darling. I'll see you later."
"Ta." Rose nodded, her back to her mother, waiting for the sound of the door closing.
"He's the best thing you've got. Don't push him away, Rose."
"Don't worry. I'm not." But she was. Oh she was. And she realized it. It was hard to love him, even as it was hard not to. But she couldn't have it both ways. If she pushed him too hard, he would leave, and he would drift away. They were already drifting. Looking down at the cutting board, Rose felt her eyes begin to burn. Damnit! Leaning back from the counter, she looked up at the ceiling to stop the impending tears. The Doctor would be home again soon. She checked her watch. One and a half hours.
Looking around the kitchen, Rose took inventory. The h'ors d'oevres were ready, the wine glasses were clean and setting out. The roast was in the oven and would be finished on time. The rest of the cheese was cut, everything was cleaned and tidy (or behind closed doors—goodness knows the Doctor had way too many unfinished projects), she was dressed and made up. All she needed was her hose and shoes. Everything was ready for the Torchwood dinner party. Except for the wine. Of course they had forgotten the wine. When they went to the grocery store, they'd argued and thus forgot the wine.
"Rose?" His voice carried through their flat as she heard the keys drop on to the small table next to the door.
"In the kitchen," she replied blandly. They were arguing too much lately. Rose knew it was probably her fault.
"I got the wine."
"Of course, darling. Bring it in here and put it in the cooler."
His footsteps heralded his approach. "I got a Vitrola red and a cabernet sauvignon."
"A good brand, I hope?" She kept her back to him, moving the cutting board to the sink to wash it.
"Of course. Don't worry. Though they won't know the difference, they're good stuff. You know, Vitrola isn't around in the other universe? Here, he's a rather important grower and distributor originally from Italy, but moved to California?"
Rose looked at him over her shoulder, his gaze on the bottle, half pulled from a brown paper bag. "Fascinating..."
"No need to be harsh," he defended.
"Sorry." She turned back to her washing. "It wasn't meant to sound pithy."
"Of course." She could hear the smile in his voice, but she doubted it was a happy one.
"Doll," she turned with a smile, "why don't you finish dressing and put the napkins and bruschetta out while I finish up in here. And get the plates from the cabinets, yeah?" She rolled onto her toes to peck him on the lips.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, deepening the kiss.
Rose made small protesting noises. "Mmf—gloves! Mm.... Make up...."
"You can fix it," he whispered huskily.
Rose let him kiss her a while longer before pulling back, his hands trailing along her body as she stepped out of his embrace. "Come on. Not now... After company's gone."
His smile was polite and wistful. "Right... Well! I'll dress and I'll be back!" Bounding off, Rose could tell she'd hurt him. Again. Her mum was right. Rose just didn't know what to do about it. She heaved a sigh and turned back to the dishes that needed cleaning.
"And did you hear about Kara in Scheduling? She's got engaged!" Tracie exclaimed.
"Omigod, shut up!" Rose exclaimed in chorus with the other two women, the men's murmurs in the other room providing undertones.
Tracie nodded a smug smile on her face. "And her ring? It's gorgeous!"
"Her boyfriend, right? Well, he's super rich, so I can't say I'm really surprised..."
"I know, lucky girl... I wish Robby would propose..."
"How long have you two been dating anyway, Sara?"
"Blimey. Three and a half years? It's about time, you know?"
There were noises of agreement as Rose sipped her wine.
"What about you, Rose? You and John finally going to tie the knot? You've been dating for as long as, well... A while."
"Hm?" Rose blinked.
Sara laughed. "Spacin' on us, girl?"
Rose laughed. "Right, sorry. Say again?"
"Sara asked when you and John were going to get married," Nadia repeated.
"What? Us?! You guys... We're—"
"Practically married already," Sara said.
"Well, yes, but—"
"Come on, Rose, you two live together, work together, everything," Tracie elaborated.
She could feel her cheeks light up. "Oh stop it...."
"Do you want him to propose? Have you talked about it? Do you think he's going to?" the girls chorused, sensing something juicy.
"No, no, no! Stoppit! Really," Rose laughed.
"Or are you one of those?" Nadia asked.
"What?"
"Those that don't believe in marriage," she continued.
"What? No. Nothing like that," Rose trailed off. "It's just..." She leaned back on the arm of the sofa and looked into the other room at the men.
"Just...?" someone prompted.
"Oh I don't know," she said breezily. "It's just not something that seemed important. Plus..." She chewed her lip before continuing softly. "I... I don't know if he wants to." Really it was her who didn't know if she wanted to or not...
A couple minutes later, the Doctor's voice was in her ear. "Rose...."
"Yes, sweetheart?" She turned.
"The roast is finished. D'you want me to get it?"
"Mm..." She downed the rest of her glass of wine. "No. No, it's fine, dear. I'll get it." She smiled and pecked him on the cheek casually. She set the glass on the counter and pulled on mits in the kitchen to pull out the roast. The girls' voices weren't quite so quiet as they thought as they discussed 'how darling Rose and John are!' and 'they're definitely going to get married soon!' Rose shook her head. They were in no place to get married.
She shook her head, willing away the serious thoughts. Deal with those later.
Dinner went well and all of the guests went home satisfied. As Rose closed the door to the last, her arm around the Doctor's waist as they waved good-bye like polite hosts, she felt the stress deflate and weariness settle on her shoulders.
"Hey, let's leave everything—clean it up later. Rose?"
She shook him off. "No, it should be cleaned tonight." She turned to the kitchen.
"I'll do it," he said solidly. "Go get changed and get into bed. I'll be a jiff."
"Mm, no. It's fine. I'll do it, sweetheart." She kicked her heels off.
"Rose." It sounded important so she turned. "Rose, what's with 'sweetheart.'"
"What?"
"'Darling.' 'Dear.'" His hands shoved into his pockets, he was tense.
"What are you going on about?"
"You haven't called me by my name in... a long time."
"Of course I have. Please, let's not argue. I'm tired and just want to go to bed."
"Then let me help. Go on. Go to bed. I'll do the cleaning."
"It won't get done how I like it," Rose challenged.
"Yes it will. Now go." He guided her backwards towards the bedroom.
She pushed his hands off her shoulders and shook her head. "No it won't! You never put the cleaner back where it belongs and you leave the sponge sopping wet all over the counter! And you leave the pans out of order, jumbled in the cabinet."
"Rose. Go. To bed. Trust me, Rose."
She sighed and tossed her hair and headed towards the bedroom. "I'll have to re-do everything in the morning anyway...." Marriage? Hardly...
"No, no, no no nonononono...." Rose wailed to herself a week later. Her monthly was late.
