John woke up the next morning feeling dry-mouthed, sore, and very, very content. He blindly shifted the duvet off a bit, as it was warmer than usual, and then stretched out his rather stiff right arm, connecting directly with the soft, voluptuous form next to him that had, apparently, been lying on said arm. As the fog of drowsiness fell away from his senses, he allowed himself a wide grin, remembering the night before. Rose was asleep in one of his shirts and he couldn't help but admire the way it looked on her as she lay in his bed, breathing steadily and looking beautiful. He quietly moved out from under the sheets and cleaned his teeth leaning against the doorframe, staring in at her, still not quite believing his luck. How could the universe have been this kind to him?

He considered joining her back in the bed, but his doctorly schedule had him wide-awake and it appeared as if Rose was still sleeping soundly. Quietly, John wandered out to the kitchen and wondered how the day would go. She had mentioned that she didn't have anything to do today...maybe he could convince her to spend the day with him. That was certainly what he wanted.

Oh! Breakfast! He could make her breakfast! Wasn't that what happened on the telly after a couple spent a successful evening together? The man made a delicious breakfast for his sunny companion and then the happy couple made doe eyes at each other over the newspaper and fooled around in the kitchen? Surely breakfast would impress her and even he could make toast and eggs.

He cheerfully strode over to the refrigerator before remembering its dismal contents, the smile falling from his face. Well, that wouldn't work. He could run out and get supplies from the corner market, as they opened early for the church crowd on Sundays but what if Rose woke up while he was out? Would she think he'd abandoned her? Or that he didn't want her here?

What if she just...left and he came back to an empty flat, without Rose Tyler in it?

That thought didn't sit well with him at all and a shiver ran down his spine as he realized he didn't even have her mobile number. John did know her last name and her employer, but after (incorrectly) thinking that he'd abandoned her, she might refuse to ever see him or even talk to him again.

But if she woke up and was hungry, he couldn't very well offer her a Guinness and a dodgy pear, now could he? His grandfather had always taught him that a good meal was the cornerstone of hospitality. Of course, he wasn't certain how many of his grandfather's rules applied for 'the morning after'. He'd never had a 'morning after' before...or a 'one-night stand' or a 'leg over'. But he didn't want this to be a one-night stand and Rose was certainly far more than a leg over anything.

But what if that's what she wanted? What if she decided all she wanted was this one brilliant evening together?

Oh...or what if it hadn't been as brilliant for her as he thought it had been?

Or what if she saw what a useless homemaker he was and decided he wasn't worth the trouble?

Or what if she went out for a coffee and a bagel because he couldn't feed her and then met some gorgeous barista with big hair and a fancy suit and flew off to Spain that very afternoon, forgetting all about him and his Star Trek pants?

Ok, ok, he was devolving into panic. Which meant that he needed to phone the most experienced 'morning after' guy he knew, no matter how early it was.

Jack probably owed him anyway. For something.

Retrieving his mobile from the pocket of his discarded denims, he pressed Jack's speed dial with nervous fingers.

It rang twice and then an annoyingly chipper voice chirped, "Captain Jack at your service! I'd love to drop anchor in yerrr lagoon, if you know what I mean!"

"What?" John asked, incredulously, despite himself.

"I'm trying out a pirate thing. Did it work?"

"No," he answered, dryly. "And how are you so...lively this morning? You have to have drunk the entire building under the table last night. Perhaps all of London. Possibly all of England."

"Practice, my friend. Lots and lots of practice. Now, to what do I owe this early morning delight?" Jack cooed, making John roll his eyes at the playfully prurient tone on the last bit.

John hesitated a moment, but felt his resolve strengthen when he looked back down the hall to see Rose's blonde head sticking up from the covers through the open door. "I need your help."

"Interesting," Jack drawled and John could hear signs of movement on the other side of the line. "Hold on one sec, I don't want to wake up the other people in here."

"Other 'people', plural?" John couldn't help but ask. "How ma - no, wait. Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"No, you probably don't," Jack laughed. "What's up, buddy?"

"Well, I did put in an appearance at your party," John started, slowly.

"Yep, saw you come in," Jack said, sounding distracted on the other side of the line. "Wow, he is even more gorgeous in the light," he said. "Good for me. Anyway, yes, you came to the party. Good for you."

"And I did happen to interact with some people - coincidentally, why did you have Charles Dickens at your flat?"

"There was some sort to literary reading going on down the street when I went out to pick up booze yesterday morning. I invited all of them. I'd been hoping the Shakespeare fellow would show up...you should have seen that man's ruff! But alas, forsooth, ah, thither, he didn't. And stop trying to distract me, John Noble. You didn't call me this early in the morning to ask about Charles Dickens. Oh! Oh! You 'interacted' with someone last night, didn't you! Ha! THAT'S why you're calling! You don't know how to deal with them this morning! Am I right? Oh, I'm right. Right?"

John was silent a moment, which Jack, correctly, interpreted as confirmation.

"Way to go, Doctor!" Jack crowed and John guessed that the other man was probably pumping his fist in the air. "Who's the lucky gal? Ooo - was it Astrid? I bet it was Astrid! I made sure to invite her after the way she went on and on about you and your silly cravat after that dinner party thing at Leo's. Oh! Or Tegan...I called her, too. Or Charley! Or -"

"Jack Harkness, did you purposefully invite an entire passel of women to that party last night to try and get me ...engaged for the evening?" John thundered, incredulously. He'd never even heard of most of those women. Oh, no. What if Rose was one of them? Had last night been a pity shag arranged by Jack?

"You bet your perfect, symmetrical, biteable arse I did! It was time. Now then, who was it?"

"Biteable?" John coughed, ignoring the question.

"I'm dying here, John. Spill! Throw me a bone. Or a bone-r. Ha! I'm just so excited! No, no, I bet it was -"

"Rose," he snapped, to cut Jack off from listing more women he'd apparently attempted to pimp John out to for the evening. "Her name is Rose and we had several glorious, amazing couplings last night and now she's asleep in my bed and I don't know what to do because I've never done…this before. I really like her and I don't want her to leave and the sex was amazing and I'm in my Star Trek pants and, and, I don't have any eggs."

There was a long silence on the end of the line, so long, in fact, that John actually pulled the mobile from his ear to make sure that the call hadn't dropped.

"Rose Tyler?" Jack finally queried, in an odd voice.

"Yes," John replied, confused at Jack's sudden change in manner. Was he missing something?

"You listen to me, Jonathan Alistair Noble," Jack growled, suddenly fierce. "Rose Tyler is a majestic, golden unicorn, and if you do one single thing to hurt her - any time in the past, present, or future, I will kick you so hard that your bollocks will have to be surgically removed from behind your eyelids with a toothpick."

"Whoa, Jack!" John exclaimed. He'd never heard Jack speak like that to anyone, ever.

"I'm serious, John," cautioned Jack. "If you were anyone else, I probably would have skewered you already for even looking at her. That girl is different, John. She's special."

"I know, Jack," he answered, quietly. "I know." The sincerity in his voice must have conveyed his intentions to Jack, who blew out a heavy breath.

"Ok, fine. Here's what you do. You use the loo, you clean your teeth, you make sure there are condoms in your nightstand, and you get back in that bed this instant. Anything else and she'll think you abandoned her, which no lady deserves. Plus, there's nothing quite like waking up next to someone you really fancy after a night of great sex. Next, you do some glorious, hot, sleepy, morning fucking and then you invite her out to breakfast. There's a nice little diner up the street from your flat that would be perfect; we went there once, remember? I left with the waitress. She was lovely. Anyway, you buy her breakfast, you tell her you want to spend the day with her, you treat her like a princess, you get her mobile number and you make concrete plans with her for this week. Then you call me Monday night and tell me all about it. Got it?"

"Got it," John answered. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Jack replied, letting loose a jaw-cracking yawn over the next pause in the conversation.

"Majestic, golden unicorn, really, Jack?" John finally teased.

"Shut up. I'm hungover. And hanging up now. Have fuuuunnn!" he sing-songed, before ending the call.

John smiled down at his mobile a moment before tossing it onto the counter. Well, Jack had laid out a fairly straightforward action plan. He'd already used the loo and cleaned his teeth, so he could check both those things off Jack's list. He turned on his heel to head back to his bedroom and the beautiful woman sleeping soundly inside it. Tip-toeing quietly, he pushed the door the rest of the way open, intent on sliding back in beside Rose's slumbering form...only to find her wide awake and propped up against the headboard, pencil flying over her sketchpad. He let out a surprised sound, which caused Rose to look up and grin at him over her paper.

"Good morning," she said with a wide smile.

He coughed slightly and shifted, thrown off by her awake-ness, once again unsure of his next action. So he'd blown the 'wake up next to someone you really fancy after a night of really great sex'. Oh no, what if she did think he'd abandoned her? But he was here now, surely that was proof against abandonment and she was grinning at him. That didn't make her look like a scorned woman. Maybe they'd still get to do sleepy morning, er...activities, except he wasn't sleepy at all between the time of day and the adrenaline of his indecision and how gorgeous Rose looked in his Cambridge t-shirt. "Hi," he finally managed, shyly.

"Are you all right?" she asked, eyeing his unmoving form with a hint of apprehension and amusement.

'"Wonderful," he breathed, letting out his held breath and moving back toward his side of the bed. He was just going to have to wing it now. "You?"

"Great," Rose answered, giving him another smile before flicking her eyes back down to the drawing she was making.

"What're you drawing?" he asked, craning his neck to see the page without actually getting back under the covers, trying to leave the metaphorical ball in her court.

"Get in here and see," she teased, using her left hand to hold up the duvet, inviting him in beside her. He leapt at the chance, sliding under the duvet and near her, arm moving subtly around her shoulders against the headboard before he looked down at her drawing.

There on her paper was, once again, him.

This time he was asleep on his side, with one arm propped underneath the pillow and with some of his hair fallen over his brow. His other arm was draped over his waist and the duvet, this one obviously, by the subtle pattern on it, was slung low on his waist. The exquisite definition of the muscles in his chest and stomach looked so real, it was as if he was about to take a peaceful, animated breath, his face content and relaxed in sleep. The shading and details were, as of yet, unfinished, but he could tell that once again she had captured not only his appearance by him seamlessly.

His fingers reached out and brushed against the drawing lightly and then he looked back up at Rose, who was biting her lower lip nervously, as if awaiting his approval. "You're amazing," John marvelled, moving his hand from the drawing up to her cheek.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes darting away from his steadfast gaze. "I woke up earlier to use the loo and you looked so gorgeous asleep in the morning light that I wanted to capture it. But I got sleepy again and when I woke up again you weren't in here...so I thought I'd finish it."

"Sorry about that," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek softly and watching her until she looked back at him. "I wanted to make you breakfast but I didn't have anything in the fridge that wouldn't be considered a biohazard and then I got nervous, so I phoned Jack."

"You phoned Jack?" Rose asked, sounding surprised and amused.

"Yes," John admitted, shaking his head ruefully and shifting uncomfortably as he debated how much to admit to her. "I was worried I might disappoint you or do something or say something wrong. I was being truthful when I told you that I've never done this kind of thing before."

"So was I," she answered, moving to put her sketchpad down on his nightstand. "So, since we're both amateurs at this...what was the rest of Jack's advice? If it's repeatable in polite company, that is," Rose added, cheekily, sticking her tongue in the corner of her mouth.

John's eye zeroed in on that gesture, forgetting her question for a moment as he remembered all the wonderful places that tongue had been last night. Rose's snicker brought him back to the present and he smiled. "Well, he told me to make sure I got back in bed immediately so you woke up beside me," he began. "Guess I blew that one."

"Nah," Rose answered. "I woke up before and you were asleep then, like Sleeping Beauty, you were. And then you woke up when I went back to sleep, so I say that still counts."

"Ok," he laughed, getting more and more comfortable as their banter continued. "He also told me to use the facilities and clean my teeth."

"Check and check," Rose answered, flicking the duvet off of both of them. "Although I just used a bit of your mouthwash...didn't want to steal your toothbrush. Next?"

"Well, next," John began, pulling her forward while he leaned back, "he told me that we should engage in some hot," he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear, delighting in her shiver. "Glorious," his mouth traced along her jawline while he tugged on her hips and she moved to straddle him, "sleepy, morning..." He moved his hands up to either side of her face, cradling her jaw with both hands and pressing his lips to hers. They moved together slowly, tongues relearning paths they'd forged the night before and hips moving lazily. Rose's hands moved up to thread into his curly hair and he moved one hand to her back and the other to her left hip, running over the soft cotton of his worn shirt.

"What?" Rose mumbled, after a few long minutes of glorious kissing.

"What what?" he parroted back against her mouth, confused and more intent on coaxing her tongue back into his mouth to do that brilliant thing it had done a moment ago then answering her.

Rose pulled back a few centimeters, smiling winsomely at him and running a finger over his well-kissed lips. "Jack said we should 'engage' in some 'hot, glorious, sleepy, morning' what?" she asked, coyly, tilting her head to the side.

John's eyes widened slightly, remembering Jack's specific wording and shifting uncertainly. Except shifting underneath Rose's warm, soft form did not help at all, just made him fight to keep in a moan as his thin cotton pants tried insufficiently to keep a very interested part of him from boldly venturing where it very much had already gone and very much wanted to go again. Anyway, he didn't often use those words out loud and certainly not in front of ladies. Joan hadn't approved of swearing and his grandad hadn't been too keen on it either. He had said it last night, once, but that had been in the heat of the moment and, really, rather involuntary.

"Ah...intercourse?" he tried, cringing even as the ridiculous word left his mouth.

Rose gaped at him a moment and then began laughing, relaxing her thighs to collapse down onto his chest in giggles. Despite his affront, he moaned loudly because it suddenly seemed very likely that she'd not bothered to find her knickers last night and that she was just as ready as he was. Except that she was still laughing.

"Ok, ok, no, he didn't say it quite like that," John stammered, flustered and blushing. "But -"

"Hot, glorious, sleepy, morning intercourse?" Rose sputtered, her head buried in his shoulder, puffs of her laughter falling on his neck and arousing him more, especially when her mouth brushed against the rising bruise of the love bite she'd given him last night.

"Rose," he complained, moving both hands her hips to steady her shaking form on his lap or to press her down further, he wasn't sure which.

Ignoring him, she continued to giggle. "How about fornication? That's a good word, sounds a bit judg-y, though. Or oo, copulation! That's a doctor-ly word, too. But not very Jack-like," she teased, drawing her head up to look at him, eyes dancing and her hands resting on his shoulders, thumbs caressing his collarbone as she giggled.

He couldn't hold his affront up any longer in the face of her delight, finally laughing along with her. This banter, this coupling, this feeling of simply being himself with her was almost overwhelming in its wholeness. Laughing, in bed. What a concept.

"Fine. He may have used another word which may or may not be appropriate for use in front of a lady such as yourself," he said in his most posh voice, feeling a lightness in his heart he'd never experienced before with anyone, certainly not like this.

"I'm still a lady, then, even if I don't have on any knickers?" Rose said, smiling at him wickedly and he gulped. Suspicions confirmed, then.

"Ah, I would have to conduct further research, I believe," he murmured, studiously tracing his fingers up her thighs and under the shirt. Rose's sharp intake of breath was his reward as his fingers ventured to her inner thighs, caressing lightly. Teasing her again, he danced away before connecting with her center, moving to grasp the bottom hem and then whipping the shirt off over her head unexpectedly, delighted with her squeak of surprise. He took one breast in each hand, palming their soft, delightful weight and stroking experimentally. "Yes, definitely a lady," he hummed, leaning forward to caress one nipple and then the other with his lips. Rose purred happily and his fingers kneaded the muscles in her back as his mouth acquainted itself with her lovely breasts.

"So what do you think, then? Are you up for some copulation this morning, Doctor Noble?"

"I think you can tell very well what I'm up for this morning, Ms. Tyler," he replied, pressing her down into his erection momentarily. "But I feel as if I may need to prove it to you. Up you go, I need you to lie back." He helped her swing her legs off of his lap and gently laid her down, taking a moment to marvel at how wonderful she looked, a halo of blonde on his dark sheets. After pausing a moment to shimmy out of his pants (and he didn't want to think about how silly he'd probably looked doing that, but Rose didn't seem to mind), he kneeled between her legs, staring down at her intently.

"Are we playing doctor?" Rose asked, eyeing him appreciatively but with a smirk. "Because that seems a bit cliched, even for us." His heart did that funny leaping thing that it had been doing an alarming amount over the last twelve hours at her use of the word 'us', as though she thought they were enough of an 'us' to have both a past (no matter how recent it was) and, potentially at least, a future.

Grinning at her mischievously, he took her bait and scooted down further in the bed, near her feet, as she propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. "There are a great many advantages to having a physician at your disposal, you know," he drawled, picking up one of her feet and holding it against his bare chest a moment.

"Oh?" Rose queried, then sighing in pleasure as his clever hands began massaging, relieving knots she probably hadn't even known she had.

"Oh, yes," he replied, pressing a bit harder and finding the spot he'd been looking for as she arched up suddenly, gasping. "For example, there are a number of erogenous areas that most men, men who are not intimately familiar with the workings of the human body, men who were not very bored and very sexually frustrated in university, overlook." His hands travelled up her calf then, still massaging lightly until he reached the back of her knee. Moving marginally closer, he lifted her leg further, so he could run his fingers over the sensitive skin there, delighting in her next gasp, as he followed his fingers with his tongue. He waited until she began to squirm in his grip before releasing it to move back down and start again with her other leg.

The next time he looked up at her, Rose's head had fallen back and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, arousal that he could practically taste radiating from her every breath. He lowered her left leg and waited until she looked back up at him again. Her smile was gentle and brilliant and he welcomed himself back up her body to press his lips against hers happily. Humming in delight, he slowly explored her mouth, letting his memory of last night guide his actions, simply enjoying the feeling of being with her. Rose, however, was beginning to get impatient and a few moments later, he squeaked in surprise at her as her hands found his arse and pulled him against her, hard. They moved against each other helplessly, their bodies desperately seeking the connection they didn't quite share yet, slick skin against slick skin.

"In," she demanded after several gloriously frustrating minutes of the base of his cock rutting against her and the length of him resting heavy between them, her teeth pulling at his bottom lip to make him moan.

"Condom," he mumbled, and Rose huffed in frustration as he pulled away to fumble for the nightstand. It took a moment more of shaking hands before he was able to return to her, his arousal pressing against her lightly again, almost where they needed it to be. "Rose?" he said, softly, willing her to open her eyes back up to look at him.

"Now," she commanded again and then he was slipping inside her velvet heat with a groan. He stayed that way, still and sunk into her to the hilt, just breathing heavily against her neck, enjoying the sensation until Rose pushed her hips up against him, forcefully. He grunted at the sudden change in pressure and withdrew slightly to push back into her slowly, only to be surprised by her again as she pushed upward. They fought each other for a rhythm, him moving slower that she wanted and her faster than he did, until finally he caught her chin in his hand and asked her to stop a moment, his arms flexing slightly as he held himself over her.

"Rose," he said, softly, pressing a delicate kiss to her jaw before looking into her eyes again. She was watching carefully, nervously, almost, and he wondered how she could possibly be anxious with him when they were joined like this, when he was deep inside her, trembling with want. "We did fast and hard last night. And it was incredible and I enjoyed every moment of it. Immensely, believe me. And I would very, very much like to do it again. In fact, there are a number of very creative fast and hard ways I thought of last night and this morning, most notably on the kitchen table, that I would very much like to explore with you. But, if you don't mind, I would like to take this opportunity today, this morning, to make love to you." He pulled out of her and then pushed back in at his easy pace and Rose's eyes never left his as she relaxed under him.

"I'd like to make love to you slowly and deliberately," he continued, drawing out each word with a measured thrust and very much enjoying how Rose's eyes flickered shut then and she whimpered slightly. He had never been that much of a talker before, but the words just seemed to flow out of him as he watched her underneath him. "Worshiping your body with mine, finding each place that makes you gasp. May I do that, Rose Tyler?" he asked, receding once again and holding his position until she opened her eyes to look back at him again. "May I make love to you?" She nodded, biting her lip and he pushed back in again with a sigh and they found a new rhythm, a mutual rhythm, that was even more incredible than the one they'd found the previous evening.

As his hips gently drove into hers, he took the opportunity to pepper her face and neck with kisses and she explored his back with searching, tender hands. He offered her sweet words, sometimes not even quite aware of what he was saying, snippets of poetry, song lyrics, or just her name, broken and gasped as they both got closer to the edge, an edge so different from last night's, but just as brilliant. After a while, sweat began to drip from his forehead onto hers, his grip on her growing more tenuous as she clutched desperately at him. She shifted so her knees locked around his waist, both of them moaning at the deeper penetration and soon, thrusts began to get sloppier and words poured out with little thought or comprehension. Rose's orgasm took him by surprise, the sudden clenching of her muscles around him a delightful, hot tension he hadn't been expecting, which pulled him over with her with a whispered exhalation of her name and his face buried in the crook of her neck.

He slipped out of her a few moments later, rolling over with a sigh and pulling her with him so she nestled into his shoulder with his right arm under her, her lips brushing against his skin and making him shudder. "Wow," John sighed, unwilling to say or move much more at the moment.

He was brought up short, however, by Rose's response.

"Well, that was...different," she mumbled into his chest and all the blood which had been thrumming happily through his veins suddenly ran cold.

"What...what do you mean by that?" he stuttered, pulling the arm under her out to look at her. All of a sudden things didn't seem quite so magical, the sheet damp and the feeling of latex and stickiness more apparent as his blissful moment was shattered.

"I didn't mean it was bad different!" Rose defended, propping herself up on her elbow and frowning at him as though he was in the wrong, somehow.

"Is there a good kind of a different?" he asked, incredulously, flinching internally as he heard how high his voice had climbed.

"Well, yeah!" she answered, her frown deepening. "Why are you getting stroppy?"

"Stroppy?" John echoed and, oh, his voice had gone even higher then. Had she not felt...did she not feel…?

Well, fine. One night stand it was.

He turned from her and sat up, swinging his feet off the bed and launching himself toward the loo, his foot tripping over a bit of fabric on the floor which just happened to be her jumper. "Never mind. Here," he huffed, tossing it over his shoulder at her. He caught sight of her face in the mirror just before he slammed the door shut, looking surprised and hurt and incredulous. He cleaned himself up, the condom from the previous night mocking him from the rubbish bin and he growled slightly, yanking on the shower and then stepping in for a quick, angry scrub.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he pulled open the door, expecting but dreading the inevitable empty bed and lack of Rose...only to find her in the same spot he'd left her, although now she had on her jumper (and only her jumper, apparently because her breasts still looked magnificently...free) and her arms were crossed over her chest. "What are you still doing here?" he sputtered, more out of surprise than anything and desperately trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest that still flared up at the sight of her in his bed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rose mocked, her eyebrow raising. "Was 'Never mind. Here.' and my shirt tossed in my face supposed to be my cue to go somewhere?"

He scowled at her. "No, I think 'That was...different'," he began, sarcasm dripping off the final word, "was your cue to go."

"You're being an arse," Rose challenged, and he bristled further. Where did she get off on that attitude? She barely knew him! This whole thing had been crazy and insane and, really, he would be better off if things just fell apart now.

"You made it quite clear how you felt. I didn't think we had anything further to discuss," he said, coldly, trying to hide his hurt.

"No, you didn't give me a chance to explain," Rose replied, standing up and advancing on him and, oh, that was distracting with all of that...leg, there.

"What is there to explain, Rose? I just had the most incredible sexual and emotional experience of my life! I've never felt a connection to anyone like that, ever, and you, you just brushed it off like it was...nothing. Which means that was what it must have been. I thought we were…but I guess I got it wrong. Just go, please." He stepped back from her, leaning against the closed door to the loo and shutting his eyes. "This...this is just going to be too hard."

And then he felt firm, warm fingers on his chin, pulling it down just like he had done to her earlier. Despite his reluctance, he opened his eyes to look down, his gaze drawn to hers like a magnet. "Now you listen to me, John Noble," Rose began. "What we just didn't wasn't 'nothing' and I never said it was. What I said was that it was different." At his noise of derision and pain, Rose's grip on his chin tightened until he looked at her again. "Because it was different. I've never been with anyone like that before, either. I've never made love, not really...never even done it slowly, like that, actually. That was new for me, too, John. And it was incredible, for me as well. That's why it was different. But good different, yeah?" She asked the last part tentatively, her brazen confidence falling away to reveal that she was just as scared as he was.

"Yeah," he confirmed, breathily and he felt her relax, the hand that had been on his chin moving up into his damp hair.

"Have I had sex? Yeah," Rose whispered, leaning up to press a kiss against his jaw and making him shiver. Then, quite suddenly, she moved forward to press the full length of her merely jumper-clad body against his merely towel-clad one, making his cock twitch between them, his anger and apprehension immediately unfurling into lust. "Amazing sex, even? Well, last night comes to mind." John made a noise of assent and gripped her hip tighter, pulling her against him rhythmically.

"Have I given great blow jobs?" she asked, saucily, licking her way up his neck in a very suggestive manner, reminding him of the kitchen yesterday evening and making him groan. "Mm-hmm."

"But have I had make up sex against a door to after a fight?" she continued, pausing for dramatic effect and waiting until he opened his eyes once more. "Not yet."

They surged together then, lips and tongues and hands battling fiercely for more. His towel was gone in an instant and her jumper quickly followed. John spun them around so Rose was the one pressed against the door, one of her legs hiked up around his hip, both of them panting. It felt brilliant but it wasn't quite the right angle, so he moved his hands down to her legs and tried shifting her up further. Unfortunately the movement had been unexpected by Rose, who had just tilted her head back and, subsequently, he jolted her into the door rather hard, her skull knocking against the wood with a rather large thunk and a muffled 'oof'.

John pulled back immediately, disentangling their legs, his hands instantly going to the back of her head, frantic apologies on his lips. Rose's shoulders were shaking and he was scared, so scared that she was crying, that his apologies pitched a up a few more notes. But he hadn't found any blood and...oh. She waslaughing.

"You're ok?" he stammered, pulling back to look her in the eye, hands clutching her shoulders tightly. "It doesn't feel as though there was any -"

"M'fine, Doctor," Rose laughed, moving up on her toes to kiss him chastely on the lips. Or, rather, as chastely as one could get in their current position. "That always looks really easy in films, doesn't it?" she continued, reaching up to rub her head and encountering his concerned fingers still there. Finally, he chuckled with her, relaxing as she appeared to be fine and not angry.

"Yes, it certainly does," he answered. "Perhaps we're not quite ready for that, yet."

"Maybe not," Rose echoed, reaching forward to run her hands through his hair again. "But someday."

"Yeah," he breathed, softly, leaning in to kiss her again when there was a loud knock at his door.

He frowned, pulling back from her. Who the devil could that be? The knock came again and, sighing, he reluctantly turned from Rose toward the door out of the bedroom.

"Um, John?"

"Yes, Rose?" John paused, already halfway out the bedroom door.

Rose merely looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the third knock. When she didn't answer again, just tilted her chin slightly, he repeated, "what?"

"What? What is it?" Very slowly, she let her gaze rake down his body, making him want to just walk back over there and try agai -...oh. He was very much still naked. And in a rather compromising way, a way in which he would not like whoever was on the other side of the door to see, actually.

Rose bent down and tossed his towel to him, the sound of her merry laughter following him out to the door.

John tied the towel securely around his waist (it didn't little to hide...that, but whoever was at the door would just have to understand that there was a remarkable, gorgeous, sexy woman in his bedroom right now). "Yes?"he inquired, pulling the door open only to come face to face with Ianto Jones, Jack's assistant. "Oh, hello, Ianto."

"Hello, sir," Ianto nodded and John had to give him credit. The Welshman's eyes never strayed from his own, although he did think he saw the small twitch of the man's rare smile. "Compliments of Mr. Harkness." He held out a large, wicker basket that, from the smell, contained a large amount of warm, delicious breakfast food. "Have a lovely afternoon, sir," Ianto finished after John had taken the basket and, there, his eyes darted down a moment and that little smirk was back, before he turned and walked calmly away.

Slightly baffled by the exchange, John shut the door and carried the basket to the kitchen. A few moments later, Rose appeared, wearing his Cambridge shirt once again and still looking deliciously tousled. "That was Jack's assistant," he clarified, smiling over at her. "He's sent us a gift, apparently."

Coming up beside him, she leaned against the counter and picked up the card that had been attached to the basket. John opened the enormous basket up, pulling out several warm containers with what appeared to be a full English inside, followed by a gourmet frozen pizza, a bunch of bananas, a box of strawberries, a container of chocolate sauce, a bottle of champagne, and, to John's incredible embarrassment, an economy sized box of 180 condoms (store brand, thank goodness, not the naked Jack Harkness kind).

"Wow," Rose said, looking out at the spread on the counter, giggling. John scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to decide how to react. "Changed my advice,"Rose read off the card. "Stay inside all day, shag joyfully, and think of me. Love, Captain Jack.

He looked over at Rose out of the corner of his eye and was relieved to see that she was still laughing, turning the envelope and card over in her hands. "Well, his previous advice was sound," John began tentatively.

"Very true," Rose answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her. "And who are we to argue with a captain?"

John chuckled and bent down obligingly to kiss her. "Just one question," Rose said against his lips.

"Mmm?" he asked, distractedly, very intent on losing his towel again.

"Why is the card addressed to 'The Two Most Majestic, Golden Unicorns I Know'?"