Chapter Nine – Of Fire and Ice

By the time they reached the cottage, Rose's feet were bruised and bleeding. But they made it in good time, with no one following them.

At the TARDIS, she stopped. After catching her breath, she said, "I have to get a few things from inside."

"Hurry, then. I don't know when they'll be coming after us, but it'll be soon."

She nodded and walked as quickly as her abused feet would allow. She barely glanced at the rooms of the house she'd lived in for half a year. The stairs felt cool against her bruised feet. Every creak they made caused her to glance over her shoulder, but she was alone in the house.

Her room. Lace and silk, polished wood and silver. The canopy bed, the looking glass. The gauze curtains and wool rugs. She would miss this, just a little.

She pulled off the ruined nightdress and slipped on the full-length petticoat that she had sewn with Mrs Morris' help. She didn't want to take anything that didn't belong to her, but they had made the petticoat together. The tidy pile on the bed contained a spare dress, so she put that on, as well as the shoes that sat on the floor. They fit her feet exactly, made by the cobbler just for her. The other things she left on the bed. Nothing else belonged to her.

In the bottom drawer of the desk, she found the rolled up pillowcase that held her trainers, her bra, and her TARDIS key. Letting out a deep breath, Rose slipped the key around her neck. The chain fit the curves of her neck and the key itself fell between her breasts. It belonged there.

"Rose! Hurry up!"

She glanced out the window to see the Doctor standing in the doorway of the TARDIS. He looked worried. With a final glance around the room, she left it all behind.

-oo-O-oo-

Once inside the TARDIS, Rose felt a wave of sadness. "I feel sorry for Mrs Morris. She did so much for me. She treated me like a daughter; never once complained that I'd been left on her doorstep with nothing. And now we're leaving without even saying goodbye."

"She knew you'd have to go. Remember, she packed those things for you? An intuitive woman," the Doctor said. He looked thoughtful. "Hang on a tic."

He vanished into the recesses of the TARDIS. Rose sat on the jump seat, letting the quiet thrum of the TARDIS welcome her home. When the Doctor returned, he startled her with a loud, "Ha!"

She looked at the box he held. "What's that?"

"A gift for Mrs Morris." He handed it to Rose.

With a soft exclamation, she ran her fingers over the contents—a complete set of Jane Austen's literary works, along with an autobiography, bound in coloured leather with gold lettering. "It's beautiful. She'll love it! But... won't this change history for 'em? Finding out the woman who wrote their precious Book wrote so many others?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Could be it'll divide them into sects, or start a war. Or, it might enhance their love for Jane Austen, knowing she did so much more than just Pride and Prejudice. Or, could be that Mrs Morris, being a wise woman, will keep the books hidden away as a treasured family heirloom, passed down through the generations, always kept a secret. Go on, leave them somewhere she'll find them when she gets home, but be quick about it. There'll be an armed mob coming over that hill in less than two minutes."

Rose ran back into the house, breathless and limping. She placed the gift on top of the wooden box that held the family's copy of the Book. Mrs Morris would find it this evening when she did the daily reading. It would have to be enough to show Rose's appreciation.

Meanwhile, she could hear the Doctor calling her from the TARDIS. All of Time and Space waited for her. She ran, heeding the call.

-oo-O-oo-

After putting the TARDIS into temporal orbit, the Doctor took Rose to the infirmary. He lifted her up onto the table, tucked her long skirts up around her knees, and then pulled her shoes off one at a time. With cool, gentle fingers, he examined her feet.

Rose's cheeks darkened at his touch and she shivered. It had been ages since a man had seen her bare feet, much less touched them. She couldn't help but feel a little scandalous. With her tongue in the corner of her mouth, she grinned. "Bit of a liberty you're taking, innit?"

"Hmm? Oh." He glanced up, his hands stilling at her ankles. "This all right? I forgot you've been living under different standards."

"Equivalent of flashing a human, isn't that what you said?" She couldn't resist teasing him, delighted at the way his skin flushed beneath his freckles.

"Well, I don't know about that," he drawled. He cleared his throat and winked. "But I'd say I've gone and compromised your virtue at the very least. Good thing your mum's not around to slap me, yeah? Now, let's see what you've done to these vestal appendages."

Rose winced a bit as his fingers grazed the bottom of her foot. She must have a hundred splinters, not to mention blisters and gashes from the rocks and hard earth she'd run over. "So, what's the verdict, Doctor?"

He frowned over the injuries but looked up at her with a confidant face. "Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing we can't fix."

"And what about us? Are we okay?" she asked, leaning back as he held a device above her foot. A bright green light scanned her skin and slowly erased the bruises. A change of clothes and a visit to the chemist and she'd be as good as new, but would their relationship mend as easily? And could they go back to being best mates—just best mates—now that he knew she loved him?

The Doctor sighed. He ran the dermal regenerator over her other foot and then sat on the rolling stool and crossed his arms. "You gave up on me. You thought that I left you there, abandoned you."

"But you didn't. It was an accident. I know that."

"Do you?" He looked into her eyes and Rose realized that she still felt the tiniest sliver of doubt. She broke the gaze, turning her head away.

"Rose, I promised that I would never leave you behind. But there may come a day when we're separated, whether by fate or disaster or time itself. And if that happens, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to get back to you. I'll do that, Rose, but I want you to do just what you did here—make friends, have relationships, fit in. Don't waste your life waiting on me. I'm not worth it."

"You are!"

He leaned forward and put two fingers on her lips. "I'm not. You are brilliant. You don't deserve to live just half a life."

"I can't help how I feel, Doctor. So what if I'd said yes to Christopher? It wouldn't have changed anything. That whole time—even when I was spitting mad at you, or so hurt that I thought I must be bleeding inside, or feeling lost and helpless—all the while I kept wishing you'd just come back for me. That's all that mattered, seeing you again." She looked down at her bare feet, now healed and freshly pink.

"Rose... oh, Rose." He spoke softly and touched her cheek with the palm of his hand. "I never wanted to put you in this situation."

"My own fault, falling for a Time Lord instead of an ordinary bloke. I should've known better. I should've remembered you're an alien. Would've saved myself a broken heart."

"I am an alien," he said with a sigh. His hand dropped to his side. "One cursed with extraordinary long life. Rose, if I told you that I loved you, if we became a couple... it would be fantastic, so very fantastic! But you're twenty years old. Twenty! I'm almost a thousand. In the cosmic blink of an eye, your life would be over—you'd grow old and die. Your children would grow old, and their children. Our relationship would be like a shooting star, or... or one of those holiday sparklers: bright and beautiful—and gone in a matter of seconds."

"S'that why you invited Christopher along with us?"

"You care for him. He obviously loves you, not that I blame him."

"Yeah, but I don't love him." Rose shook her head. "D'you really want to watch me being with someone else? S'that what you want?"

"Of course that's not what I..." He stopped, his voice deep and rough. "I want you to be happy, Rose. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Happy. But not with you? Because I'll wither and die and you'll be by yourself again."

Tears filled his eyes but didn't spill over. His voice lowered so that she barely heard him say, "You'll be gone, and I'll still be here, just as I am now. Only even more alone."

Rose swallowed, finding tears of her own. With one hand, she reached out and touched the Doctor's face. "Curse of the Time Lords you called it."

"That's right." He stood and turned away from her.

"But I don't think that's the curse. Doctor, if you love someone and you're with 'em—no matter how long—it makes you a better person. I think..." She bit her lip, uncertain if she ought to continue. "I think the real curse is not wanting to take that chance, always afraid to let someone love you, worried that you'll be hurt, and left alone again. That's the tragedy. That's the curse of the Time Lords—being afraid to love!"

For a long moment, Rose thought she'd gone too far. The Doctor stood with his back to her, unmoving. She smoothed her petticoat down and slid off the table. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

The Doctor's shoulders began to shake just a little, and she worried that she'd actually made him cry by mentioning the Time Lords. But when he turned to face her, the Doctor had a smile on his face. He was... laughing.

"Rose Tyler. You are amazing. Have I told you that?"

"Um..." She furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

"Do you know what the Time Lords were like? You never met any, besides me—and I don't count, what with being a renegade and all." He pushed the stool away and moved to stand right in front of her. His eyes sparkled and his hands moved as he spoke with an animated voice. "Time Lords were a bunch of pretentious, grandiose xenophobes. They didn't have babies the old fashioned way—too much left to chance that way, besides being decidedly vulgar. Marriages were for convenience, strengthening bloodlines and political ties. Nobody dared to love. And what did it get them? Where are the great and mighty Time Lords now? Extinct! That's where they are now. Gone forever, with no one left who cares enough to visit their grave."

Rose shook her head, not understanding. "But there's you, Doctor. They're not all gone, not so long as you're around."

"Exactly!" And he grinned. "C'mon!"

He lifted her up enthusiastically. Rose tried not to shriek as he spun around in a circle with her in his arms. She clung to him, breathless and dizzy. "What are you doing...?"

"Hm? Oh, I thought it was obvious," he said, carrying her out into the corridor.

"I'm a stupid ape, remember? What's obvious?"

"You're not a stupid ape, not if you can accurately describe the Time Lords and sum up several thousand years of Gallifreyan tradition after only having met me, the lonely renegade and outcast." He laughed and spun around again. "You're bloody brilliant, Rose Tyler, that's what you are."

She couldn't help but catch his giddy mood. She smiled as they navigated the hallways of the TARDIS. "And what've I done that's so brilliant?"

"You, my dearest Rose, have outwitted the last of the Time Lords. And that's not half clever." He stopped outside a door that she hadn't seen before and jostled her a bit as he opened it.

The room proved to be a bedroom, one that saw far more studying and mechanical tinkering than sleeping, judging by the untidy piles of books, star charts, and metal bits and bobs. Typical bedroom of any bloke, really, except that it didn't have any dirty clothes strewn about, like she might've expected. But then, the Doctor didn't wear much of a variety, so there wouldn't be many of his clothes around.

The bed in the centre of the room caught her by surprise. Tall and imposing, it took up half the room and captured all the attention. She couldn't tell what it was made from—something not quite metal, not quite wood, which seemed both dull and gleaming by turns. It had four posts that curved up from the corners and entwined overhead so that they seemed almost alive rather than something cast or carved. A brown silk duvet covered the mattress, and several grey and navy pillows lie scattered about the head of the bed.

"The last me had this all done up with black and other dark colours, but the brown suits me better, don't you think?" he said, carefully setting her down on the edge of the bed.

"Still dark," she pointed out, leaning over and snatching one of the pillows. The navy had a subtle grey pinstripe to it, not unlike the Doctor's suit. She hugged it, smelling honey and lemons. It reminded her of both Doctors and she wondered if it was left over from before his regeneration.

"That can change," he said in reply to her comment. "That will change. I'm seeing a lot of pink in my future."

"I don't get it. Why bring me here?"

He sat beside her and drew her hands away from the pillow to hold them in his own. He whispered her name and met her eyes with his. Rose found that she couldn't look away but seemed to be drawn into the mahogany depths. She heard her name again, but it seemed to have come from somewhere within his eyes. When she broke the gaze, her eyes dropped down to the Doctor's lips, so thin and yet so inviting. What would they feel like against her skin? She glanced back up and saw a hint of a smile in his expression, otherwise quite serious. Her heart began to pound. She felt light-headed and somehow, somehow knew that the Doctor wanted to kiss her.

And then he did.

She closed her eyes and felt the coolest touch against her lips, soft and so much colder than a human's body temperature. What did she feel like to him?

An image of flames entered her mind, and herself, naked but not burning... glowing with a radiant, beautiful heat.

Is that how he saw her?

"Yes," he whispered, breaking the kiss so that he could caress her jaw with his lips. Every so often his tongue darted out, an icy touch against her skin. "Your skin is like fire and silk—a candle flame and I'm the moth who can't stay away even if I get burnt. You've no idea how long I've wanted this—wanted you. Burn with me, Rose... We'll blaze across the universe, you and I."

Rose shivered, hardly able to breathe. She leaned into his embrace, one hand winding through his hair. He paused his devastating exploration of her neck in order to sigh with delight as she massaged his scalp. For the moment she felt grateful, since her mind refused to think clearly when his lips attached themselves to her sensitive skin. She wanted this—had wanted for ages—and yet so many doubts crowded into her mind, competing with each other.

"Doctor," she murmured, not knowing what to say or do.

"Yes, this is real," he answered softly, focusing on one particular spot on her neck that nearly made her shudder with pleasure. "Yes, this is what I want. And yes, just imagine what I could do elsewhere."

With a gasp, Rose pulled away, feeling like a bucket of water had been thrown on her. "You're inside my head, you git!"

He blinked several times, obviously pulling himself together. From his expression, he'd felt the same bucket of water. "Right. Forgot you didn't like that."

"You've never done that before. Only the TARDIS."

"That's because it isn't something to be done lightly. I don't go around reading people's minds for fun," he reminded her. "I didn't know it would happen when we kissed, to be honest. They didn't exactly teach Gallifreyan sex education at the Prydonian Academy. Not on a world where a husband and wife each donate genetic material, and babies are created by scientists and machines. All this, with the kissing and making love—it's a bit new to me. Would've been illegal on Gallifrey, but seeing as how I'm the last of the Time Lords, I suppose I'm entitled to change the rules."

Rose stared at him. There's no way he could mean what she thought he meant. She pointed an accusing finger. "Hold on, you've kissed before! I know you have. You told anyone who would listen that Madame de Pompadour snogged you!"

"That... that was different." He ran one hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. "For one thing, she kissed me, not the other way round. For another, it was immediately following a mind probe. Any sort of telepathic contact then might've just been aftershocks from the probe, for all I knew. Aside from that, I've never kissed anyone else."

He took in Rose's disbelieving look. "Well... I say no one else, but there was you—that time on New Earth while you were possessed by Cassandra. But I imagine the psychograft process would've inhibited any telepathic leakage on your end, and as for me... well, I was too busy trying to figure out why you were kissing me with such enthusiasm! Other than that..." He paused and looked thoughtful as he scanned his memories to make sure. "Oh, right. There was Grace, wasn't there? But that doesn't count—I was suffering from amnesia. But that's all. No one else! That all right?"

For some reason, Rose felt sad. She reached out to run her finger along the Doctor's bottom lip. "Missed out on a lot, you did."

"I don't think so. Not when you're the only one I've ever wanted to kiss." He drew the tip of her finger into his mouth and did something that belied his claim to be new to all of this. With the intriguing contact, she could feel the ghost of his thoughts again, including a vague impression of the many unspeakable things he wanted to do to her without her mum finding out. The smouldering love and raw sensuality nearly overwhelmed her.

"Yeah, but..." She shivered and tried to keep her thoughts straight. "I've kissed before. I've... been with other guys. Not a lot," she quickly said, "But a couple."

"I know."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

He stopped sucking on her finger and looked her in the eyes again. "Rose, I may not know a lot about this sort of thing, but given what we felt with just one—single—kiss—" he punctuated the last three words with a brush of his lips to hers and then met her gaze again, "—I think this is going to be beyond anything you've ever shared with Jimmy Stones or Mickey Smith. In fact, I think it's going to be beyond anything either of us ever imagined."

"Awfully sure of yourself," she teased, as he pulled her onto the bed.

"I've the right to be. After all—" He made quick work of the dozens of buttons down her dress. As he pushed the dress down off her shoulders and then tugged the sleeves down her arms, his fingers grazed her skin. It stood all the hairs of her arms on end and sent a violent shiver down her back. It also filled her stomach with a warm tingling, which spread through her body when the Time Lord stared at her with eyes darkened by longing. "—I've done what no one else could."

In nothing but her petticoat, Rose looked up at the Doctor. "What's that, then?"

"Won the heart of Rose Marion Tyler. A lady, and a woman, equal to being a Time Lord's wife." His voice brightened. "You will be my wife, won't you? I'd hate to break one rule without breaking another—might as well make my forbidden human lover my mate while we're at it."

Without giving her the chance to react, the Doctor kissed Rose again, long and full. Then, while she caught her breath, he slipped out of his pinstriped jacket and unbuttoned the shirt beneath. "We'll forego the three day ceremony, of course. I never saw the need. In fact, we could just say our own vows and be done with it, right here. It'd be legal in... oh, at least a dozen galaxies and a couple of smaller systems."

He started to lean down to her again, but she stopped him with her fingers against her lips. He settled for kissing them instead while Rose gathered her thoughts.

"This telepathy thing. S'there gonna be more of it? You gonna be in my head again?" she asked.

"That all right?"

"Yeah," she murmured as he nuzzled his way up her bare arm.

"It might get more intense. No way of knowing."

She thought about that as she moved her hand up the Doctor's back. His skin felt deliciously cool beneath her touch. He jerked slightly when she found his mole but grinned in response and bit down on her ear lobe. She gasped. What had they been talking about? Oh, right... "You'll see my thoughts?"

"And you'll see mine. Might even be permanent," he answered, brushing aside her hair. "And by the way, let's stop at a salon before going home. I don't want to have to explain to your mum why you've gone brunette."

"Doctor?" Her voice quavered.

"Hmm?" He found a spot on her collarbone that tingled when he grazed it with tongue.

"No talking about Mum on our honeymoon night, yeah?"

He grinned. And then found himself very, very busy.

(fin)