Stress baking, day drinking, and the end of our story. For now.
AN: after a year and a half (at least) I'm about to say goodbye to this story. There is still an epilogue to come and I am planning a sequel so...I'm not quite done with these two but...I am just about done with Watch it Burn. This is the last chapter other than the epilogue and I'm just in complete shock. Thanks so much to all of you for reading and sticking with me through my very sporadic updating!
When John returned to his flat he immediately headed to the kitchen. He finally picked up the cup of coffee that Rose had left on the counter and poured it down the drain before sticking the mug in the dishwasher.
He contemplated pouring out the coffee/whiskey concoction he had made earlier in the day but decided that he really didn't want to waste the alcohol in the highly likely case that Rose didn't forgive him or agree to try again. He stuck the whole coffee pot in the refrigerator before turning around and resting his palms on the counter, hanging his head.
This waiting was going to be torture. He was already imagining every single way Rose could tell him that she had decided that no, this wasn't going to work, that she couldn't forgive him after what he said. Her voice echoed in his head with tones ranging from apologetic to the cold fury and ice that he'd pushed her to at the end of their argument.
John shook his head and pushed himself back upright. He would just do what he always did when he was worrying at an impossible problem and needed to clear his head.
He turned on the oven and went to go take stock of his ingredients.
He always kept baking basics on hand specifically for times like this. He had learned how to bake when he was a teenager and had picked it back up in his adult life, finding that it was an excellent way to relieve stress and think through whatever was bothering him. It gave him something to do with his hands and an outlet other than his computers and hacking for his creativity and there was a tangible result at the end of his labors that settled his soul in some odd way.
John loved tinkering with old recipes and twisting them into something new or starting completely from scratch to see if he could come up with something on his own. He had a whole folder on his hard drive of new recipes that he wanted to try.
Today though he wanted an old favorite – chocolate banana cake. He didn't use a recipe for it anymore, just put it together with the ease of practice and the confidence it had given him. John started mixing the butter and sugar and eggs together and willed his mind to clear. Rose would get here when she got here and there was nothing he could do until then but bake.
Rose stared at the door of her flat for a few minutes after John disappeared. She had in no way expected John to show up at her flat and she wouldn't have bet anything on him actually apologizing. Against all odds though, he had shown up and he'd apologized and had actually sounded sincere.
She didn't know what to make of it.
Part of her really wanted to tell him that it was all okay and that she wanted to give it another shot but there was an equally large part of her that reminded her of how much he'd hurt her and wanted to just tell John to go to hell.
Sighing, she got up from her chair and padded towards the kitchen, feet making no noise on the hardwood. Rummaging around in the fridge, she found the half empty bottle of wine she was looking for and poured a glass. It was still before noon but she couldn't care less. She took the wine into the living room and sank into her chair once more.
The man was so frustrating! He blew hot and cold and refused to share anything. He could get her riled up in a matter of seconds, had trust issues and an arrogant streak a mile wide. He drove her absolutely up the wall with his stubbornness and bullshit.
But he was also kind underneath it all, the type of person who secretly gave away money to people in need and woke her up from sleeping on a table so that she wouldn't have a crick in her neck. He was reliable when it came down to it and he certainly wasn't the only one who was stubborn or arrogant. Rose was self-aware enough to know that she could be both of those things as well. It was their matched stubbornness that landed them in this mess in the first place! He drove her crazy, yes, but there was also something about him that kept drawing her close, drawing her back, something beyond the simmering sexual tension that seemed to be ever-present between the two of them, although that was a factor too.
And then there was the fact that he'd actually shown up to her flat and apologized. Rose knew she had been goading him and he had refused to start another argument. There were a few times where it looked like he wanted to but he had refrained, focusing on the apology instead. That had to mean something, right?
Rose took a gulp of her wine. Without him right in front of her and his apparently sincere apology still ringing in her ears, she was finding it difficult to stay angry with him. She was still upset, the things he'd said in their argument and the way he'd acted that had led up to the argument she still found unacceptable, but if he was really willing to try and change and adjust and work with her, maybe they could move past it all together.
Maybe forgive and not forget, let him know that he was on thin ice if she came back and gave it another shot. They would need to talk about it and lay out their separate expectations and figure out where they were going to go from here but Rose was growing more optimistic by the minute that it could work. They could work.
She downed the rest of her wine and headed towards her bathroom for her second shower of the day. Her mind was made up but she needed to finish cooling off so she wouldn't start yelling at John the moment she was face to face with him again.
Plus, he deserved to sweat it out a bit, she thought with a smirk.
John was indeed sweating it out. He'd taken his cake out of the oven and was waiting for it to cool so he could ice it. The cookie dough he was currently making up was bearing the brunt of his worry as he tried to pound it into submission. It had been three hours since he left Rose's flat and she hadn't shown up yet.
There was a voice in the back of his mind that kept telling him that she was never going to show up, that she wasn't going to forgive him. Frankly he agreed that he probably didn't deserve to be forgiven for most of what he'd said but it was Rose and if anyone was going to give him another chance to make things better, it was her.
The waiting though, the waiting and worrying was killing him. Slowly.
He traded the bowl of cookie dough for his bowl of icing and started spreading it carefully over the cake, deeming it cool enough finally.
He could make it through this, just had to keep busy.
Twenty minutes later, John was taking the cookie dough out of the fridge to start putting it on baking sheets for the oven when there was a knock at the door.
He almost dropped the bowl in his haste to get to the door but it swung open before he could even make it out of the kitchen though.
John froze when he caught sight of Rose standing just on the other side of his threshold tugging nervously at the strings of the pink hoodie she was wearing.
"The door was unlocked," she said, gesturing at the open door. "Can I come in?"
Rose was a little unsure of her welcome and nervous about the conversation to come. He had apologized, yes, but as she sat in her flat and tried to figure out exactly what she wanted to say, she had started second guessing everything. For all she knew John could have completely changed his mind since he left her flat. It left her feeling unsure and vulnerable and she hated it.
"Please," he said.
Rose stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The fading smell of warm chocolate greeted her and she made a small noise of appreciation. "It smells wonderful in here. Were you making something?"
To her delight John's ears turned pink at the question.
"Was doin' some baking," he mumbled. He waved back towards the kitchen behind him. "There's a chocolate banana cake that's ready if you want a piece."
Rose grinned. "Like I'm going to say no to chocolate! I'd love a slice."
Silence reigned as he cut two slices out of the recently frosted cake and served them. Plates in hand, John led the way back to the living room to sit down.
The quiet was oppressive. Rose couldn't find the words she wanted to start the conversation that they needed to have and with every second that passed it seemed more and more difficult to break the silence.
John could feel his heart racing as they settled onto opposite ends of the couch. He wanted to hope that she came bearing good news since she wasn't just telling him outright that she couldn't forgive him but he didn't want to hope and just have it crushed.
Rose took her first bite of cake and moaned around the fork when it hit her tongue.
John twitched, remembering hearing that sound in a much different setting.
"Oh my god, John, this is delicious!"
"Thanks. It's one of my favorite recipes." He considered for a moment and then continued, trying to prove to her that he was willing to be more open about himself. "Baking's a hobby of mine. Been doing it for years."
There was also the fact that he had wanted to tell Rose these tidbits ever since he met her and had tamped it down because he was afraid of her getting too close. It was freeing and terrifying to let himself share.
"I can tell. If this cake is any indication, you're a brilliant baker." She smiled at him before putting another bite in her mouth.
Silence fell again as they both ate their cake. Rose took her last bite of cake and put her plate down on the coffee table. John stilled as she turned her gaze on him, suddenly completely serious, her playful façade gone.
She sighed. "Guess I should stop avoiding the elephant in the room, yeah?" She raised her hand to her mouth and chewed on the side of her nail.
John nodded as he swallowed his mouthful of cake and then set his plate on the table as well. He gave Rose an expectant look, waiting for her to start talking and deliver her judgement and his fate.
"The thing is, John, I can't just forget about what's happened. We can't forget what's happened. It's made an impact on us both and we can't just go on ahead like it never happened." Rose was babbling, she knew she was. It's what happened when she was nervous. During cons she was in control and playing someone other than herself and this never happened but when she had to talk about her own emotions and have a conversation that would impact her life in a big way she was a giant ball of nerves.
John could feel his heart sinking as she talked about not being able to just move past what had happened. He knew his face probably was broadcasting his emotions but he couldn't summon up the energy to hide.
He turned his face towards the table instead of her. "Right, okay. That's it then, is it?" he said, dejected.
Rose glanced up from where she was tugging at her sleeves and read John's expression and body language in an instant. She was doing a rubbish job of trying to explain things so far.
"John, no. Look at me." He didn't turn so Rose reached out a hand and rested it on his knee. "Please look at me."
Reluctantly he faced her again, sucking in a deep breath. This was going to hurt so much more than he had expected. He had a fleeting thought that he was glad he hadn't tossed the coffee/whiskey mixture from that morning.
"What I'm trying to say and failing miserably at is that I want to work with you again. I want to give us another shot but we're going to have to talk about what's happened and what we both need and expect to make this work. If we just dive in headfirst we're just gonna end up right back here."
Despite himself John could feel hope blooming in his chest again. "Are you saying…" he trailed off, unable to talk around the lump in his throat.
A grin spread over Rose's face. "Yeah, I am. As long as you're okay with talking things out here at the beginning, I forgive you and I want to see what else we can accomplish together."
"Really?"
"Really."
The smile that dawned on his face was wild and exuberant and it came to life in a laugh. He reached out and gripped her shoulders. "Thank you, Rose Tyler. I can't promise I'll be good at talking like you want but I'm willing to give it a shot. I want to see what we can do together, too."
Rose's eyes flicked down to his lips and her expression shifted into a wicked smirk. "What we can do together, huh? I might have a few ideas."
John let out a low growl, one hand moving from her shoulder down to her waist. "I have more than a few."
"Prove it," Rose whispered.
John moved closer and was about to bring his lips down on hers when he stopped. "We're not still fighting are we?"
"What?" Rose asked, completely bewildered.
"Last time I tried to kiss you and we were arguing I thought you were going to rip my throat out."
"Oh my god, John, just shut up and kiss me!"
"Your wish is my command," he growled just before brushing his lips across hers in a gentle caress, a thank you and a wish for a bright future all in one.
At least that's what it was at first. They couldn't tame the heat that blazed between them for long and soon the sparks turned to flames. John had the fleeting thought that the two of them could set the world ablaze but he didn't care. He had Rose and if it came down to it, he'd be content to sit with her hand in his and watch it burn.