3. Golden

Oh, Hell.

The Doctor looked down at the woman he held in his arms. Who was he trying to fool anyway? This had everything to do with Rose. Her scent, the feel of her in his arms, the perfect line of her throat, her lips…those sweet lips that demanded to be--

"Doctor?"

Rose was looking at him, her eyes wide, no doubt wondering why he seemed frozen in place. Well, either that or she was beginning to wonder if he was some sort of dangerous madman. The way he was feeling right then made him wonder if "dangerous madman" might not be too far off of the mark. The feel of Rose's curves pressed against his body was driving him to consider all sorts of dangerous courses of action. She was probably expecting him to set her down and maybe tease her a little about her supposed clumsiness. But he could hear the pulse of the blood in her veins and the quickening of her breath. Her luscious lips were parted slightly as if in invitation. The Doctor knew that the invitation had to be all in his head, but he found to his surprise that for once he didn't care.

Lowering his head a few inches, he kissed her. It was just the briefest touch of his lips on hers, but to The Doctor, it was as though all of his senses came awake at once. He could taste the hint of soy sauce on her lips, smell the faint scent of apples from her shampoo, and feel the Earth spinning as it hurtled through space with them clinging to its surface.

He wanted more. A brief kiss just wasn't enough. Maybe her scent was driving him mad. Maybe her dress really was from Alia Major, and therefore, designed to torment him. It didn't matter. For one insane moment he contemplated just taking what he wanted, consequences be damned. He'd saved the Universe several times, after all. Why couldn't he have something he wanted for a change? Surely the Universe owed him one by now. And Rassilon help him, he wanted Rose. Just one small niggling worry stopped him from throwing all caution to the four winds.

What if she didn't want him?

Yeah. That's why she's screaming and pushing you away.

The Doctor resolutely ignored Jack's voice and rested his forehead against Rose's for a moment, before sighing and raising his head once more. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd forgotten how Rose had ended up in his arms in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I…er…are you alright? How's your ankle?"

Rose looked up at him dazedly, her eyes unfocused. The Doctor had just begun to worry that she had managed to hit her head somehow when she finally blinked and glanced down at her leg. Obediently, she wiggled her foot a bit and winced. "Ow! It hurts," she admitted. "I'm not sure that I can walk on it. How far is it back to the TARDIS?"

He was the lowest creature imaginable. Well, apart from say Davros or maybe…pond scum. Here he was being selfish when Rose's ankle was obviously swollen and needed medical attention. Without another word, The Doctor turned and carried Rose along the little stone path that led from the back of the restaurant to the parking area. Good thing the TARDIS was close by.

The Doctor made his way down the hall towards the Infirmary, all the while trying to ignore the little messages that his body was sending him. Rose's ankle needed tending, so he wasn't interested in knowing, for example, that her dress was incredibly soft and silky. He certainly wasn't wondering if her skin felt the same way. His thoughts were full of important medical instruments that he could use to fix Rose's ankle, not the feel of her arm against the back of his neck.

It was with some relief that he finally spotted his destination.

Backing carefully through the door to the Infirmary, The Doctor turned, prepared to set Rose down on the usual table, and stopped. They had entered what could only be described as a 'love nest.' No medical equipment in sight, just the hugest canopied 4-poster bed he had ever seen. All of the wood he could see on the bed was covered with delicate looping designs. It even had curtains. Not flimsy curtains either. They were more like woven hangings with a repeated flower pattern of some sort. Also, there seemed to be candles everywhere. The Doctor backed out of the room slowly, Rose still held in his arms.

In the hall once more, he stared at the Infirmary door. It was the correct door. What was going on? Perhaps the TARDIS got confused?

He tried the next door along the hall and entered…the same room. Only this time he noticed the soft music playing in the background and a tea cart parked in the corner. It was laden with all sorts of delicacies. Well, this is…strange.

Rose's eyes were huge, he noted. She seemed to take in every detail of the room and become ever more intrigued.

That was all well and good, but this wasn't doing anything to help Rose's ankle. Very reluctantly, The Doctor set Rose gently down on the bed next to a couple of Kimonos and somehow managed to avoid all of the rose petals that were strewn about. Looking up at the ceiling, his hands on his hips, he gave voice to his displeasure. "How, may I ask, am I supposed to fix Rose's ankle, which is both painful and swollen, if you insist on hiding the Infirmary?"

The TARDIS sent him a feeling of slight apology accompanied by the image of a drawer in the back wall of the room and that was all. What is she playing at? he wondered.

Muttering under his breath, The Doctor went directly to the indicated drawer. Opening it, he found exactly what he needed and a few other things that couldn't possibly have anything to do with medical treatment. Where the TARDIS had managed locate that many different silk scarves and what they were doing in the drawer with the other items he just wasn't prepared to contemplate. He was tempted to have a look in the other drawers, but thought better of it. There were other, more pressing things to do right now.

He made his way back to Rose across the overly plush carpet and knelt in front of her to carefully remove her sandal. "It seems The TARDIS decided that we don't need the Infirmary. And while I admire the décor, I can't say that I agree with her."

Rose laughed. "Maybe she felt that it was time for a change?" she offered.

"Oh, yes," he agreed. "Only the latest Infirmaries have plush carpeting, are lit by candles, have huge exam beds, and hide all of the medical equipment. What could I have been thinking, designing something with small beds and a sterile atmosphere?"

"TARDIS knows best," she replied, giggling.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and got to work scanning her swollen ankle. He was glad to discover that it was only a bad sprain. Nothing was broken. He could fix this easily, but she would have to remove the stocking covering it, as the instrument he needed required contact with the skin. He should probably ask the TARDIS for a little more light while he was at it. Even with his superior night-sight, reading the scanner's display was proving difficult. When he looked up at Rose, intending to tell her that she needed to take off her stockings, he found her watching him. Her hair was golden in the candlelight. He wondered idly what it would look like cascading down about her shoulders.

He didn't really need that much light to work, come to think of it. Maybe they could stop by the kitchen for a cup of tea once her ankle was repaired. He could double check his work then. Wait. What was he doing? Oh, yeah. Stockings. Right.

"Rose? I need you to take your stockings off before I can fix your ankle. The instrument needs contact with your skin."

Rose raised her eyebrow and didn't quite manage to suppress a smile. "Were you going to help me with that, or are you planning on turning your back?"

The Doctor could feel his cheeks burning, and was suddenly glad for the lack of light in the room. There was no way that Rose had just said that. Was he hearing things again?

He stood and backed away from her, managing somehow not to trip over his own feet. "No. You…you go ahead," he stuttered. "I'll be over here if you need me… er…admiring the new wallpaper. Just let me know when you're done."

The Doctor walked towards the wall, careful to keep his back turned towards Rose. Faint rustling sounds reached his ears and he couldn't help picturing what was going on behind him. He could see Rose frowning in concentration as she carefully rolled her stockings down her shapely legs. Her dress was pooled around her at a point half-way up her thighs, as she had needed to pull it up to reach the tops of her thigh highs. Fair skin glowing against the dark red of the dress, she'd turn and smile at him… He was completely entranced by his imaginings.

Perhaps that was why he managed not to notice the door slowly melting away into the wall.

It took a long moment for his better judgment to re-assert itself, and tell him that he shouldn't be fantasizing about Rose that way. Yes, she was a beautiful young woman -no doubting that- but that didn't mean that he should be thinking about her as some sort of…sex object. She was his companion, and he should treat her with respect.

And where's the fun in that?

For once, The Doctor agreed, but he opened his eyes anyway. He glanced at the wall in front of him and he could swear that something was different. What could it be? It was like one of those puzzles that they had in newspapers, the ones that showed two pictures and asked you to spot tiny differences between them. He was really good at those, so this should be a piece of cake.

Hmmm… Wait a minute. Where's the door? It was here just a minute ago, wasn't it?

Why would the TARDIS take the door away? The Doctor couldn't see any reason for his ship to trap him in a room with Rose. Unless… Several unexplained events from the day suddenly pieced themselves together in his mind. The perfect landing on the perfect beach for relaxing. The selection of swimwear that had been waiting for him in the wardrobe room. Rose's red bikini. The image that he'd managed to see in Rose's mind. The dress that Rose was currently wearing. The missing Infirmary.

It was…it was…well, it wasn't subtle, was it? The TARDIS was behind it all! Since when was she so…pushy? And poor Rose was trapped in a room with a Time Lord who had spent the entire day thinking about her in a more-than-just-friendly way.

A room with a huge bed and romantic atmosphere.

A room with a drawer full of silk scarves.

The Doctor groaned inwardly. What was he going to do? Somehow the TARDIS had figured out how he really felt about Rose and had decided to do something about it.

Yeah. She knows how you feel about Rose, but do you?

Well, of course I know how I feel about Rose, he replied angrily, running his hands through his hair. I know exactly how I feel about her. That doesn't mean that I'm going to start chasing her around like some sex-crazed teenager.

No. Captain Jack's voice held a sharp edge now. You're just going to hang around giving her mixed signals and scaring away any competition with your death glare. How exactly is that better?

You don't understand. Great. Now he was arguing with himself. This could not end well. Look. I promised to keep her safe. And that includes safe from me, alright?

What if she's alright with living life a bit more…dangerously?

I am not having this conversation. I am much too old for Rose. I'm not human. I will outlive her by centuries. There is no way that she feels the same way about me. How many reasons do you need?

How do you know what she feels? Have you ever asked her?

The Doctor had had enough of this. He wasn't even safe in his own head anymore. I am officially ignoring you now, he announced and proceeded to work his way through all of the most annoying songs he knew to drown out his pushy inner voice.

Okay, obviously he had to fix Rose's ankle. Once that was taken care of, he could try to persuade the TARDIS to put the door back. Shouldn't be too difficult to convince her…given a couple days.

Riiiight. This was obviously not his day.

First, though, he had to tell Rose about their little problem.

"Rose?" he called resignedly.

"Yes?"

"Um…don't panic, but…" he put his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet in an attempt to appear casual, "the door has…disappeared."

"The door has what?" Rose's voice climbed a bit at the end of her question, and The Doctor winced.

"Well, it's sort of…melted into the wall. I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about. Probably some sort of minor malfunction. Let me finish with your ankle, and then I'll see if I can get the TARDIS to tell me what's going on. Are you done with your stockings yet?"

From behind him came a rustle, a thump, and a muffled gasp. He spun around to see Rose, her face creased in pain, determinedly limping towards him. That was no good, she'd injure herself further!

"Rose," he pleaded moving quickly to her side, "you'll make it worse."

"But I…"

"You can give the TARDIS a good talking to later, but right now…" He swept her up into his arms and for a second he thought that the world might have imploded. Only that would explain the sudden influx of disorientating sensations he was experiencing. The strongest impression seemed to be a strong cocktail of contentment/worry/love/sadness. That was just weird, because…

Wait.

Everything inside The Doctor stopped. His logical thought process froze. The annoying song he'd chosen ended. His breath stilled. Both hearts paused.

He was touching Rose Tyler's skin with both hands. Rose's left arm rested against the back of his left hand. His right hand held one of her knees. If just holding one of her hands on the beach could transmit a strong image from her mind into his that might mean that he was hearing her now. This cacophony of sensations and emotions could be hers. If that was true, then…

Looking down at Rose, The Doctor tried to really pay attention to what he saw there, and not take anything for granted. He saw a beautiful young woman relaxing in his arms, not struggling to be let go. Her eyes were warm cinnamon in the flickering light, and the things he saw reflected there nearly broke him. It was true.

Rose loved him. He wondered how long it had been there for him to see if he had just bothered to look properly. Standing there, immobilized with shock, he let her feelings wash over him.

She loved him and she expected that at any moment he would set her down again, so she was enjoying the contact while she had it. Even this slightly too romantic setting wouldn't make any difference, she knew, and it hurt her to think that he might never feel anything of the sort for her. A little ashamed to know that she'd take what she could get, that didn't stop her from enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

Rassilon's bones.

He carried her back to the bed and set her down gently. She smiled up at him a little sadly, and the last vestiges of his resistance disappeared. Rose loved him. Him. The Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm. She knew what he was, and still she loved him. That was incredible. He didn't deserve it, but he was too selfish to care. He wanted to laugh and dance her about the room. Instead, he reached out one trembling hand, removed her hair comb, and ran his fingers through her freed tresses until they fell about her shoulders in waves.

"Doctor? What…" Rose's eyes were huge and full of puzzlement.

He couldn't hear her anymore, but he knew that by now she must be very confused. Not that he could blame her. How exactly was he supposed to explain this?

"Rose, I…" he began, trying to decide how to put what he felt into words.

Oh, kiss her, already!

Yes. Perhaps actions were better right now. His fingers wove themselves into her hair as he kissed her desperately. This was no brief meeting of lips. The Doctor kissed Rose with all of the passion of a sinner reaching for salvation. And it wasn't enough. He wanted all of her.

When he finally broke the kiss his hearts were racing. He looked at Rose a little worriedly, but her eyes held none of the shock or anger that he feared to see there. She blinked at him, then a slow seductive smile spread across her face. "Hello."

He smiled back at her, "Hello. Sorry, I should've asked, but…" he trailed off and shrugged expressively.

"Does that mean that you're planning on doing it again?" Her face had gone back to a slightly guarded expression, and he rushed to reassure her.

"Well, yes. Umm…unless you don't want me too, that is. But, I thought maybe that you enjoyed it?" He watched her anxiously for a reaction. If after all of this he'd misread her…

He needn't have worried. Rose reached out her hand and began unknotting his tie. "Was there anything else you had in mind?" she inquired as she moved on to the top button of his shirt.

He stilled her hand and looked down at her, his expression serious. "Rose, if you don't want this you had better tell me now, but… You are the most desirable woman that I have ever encountered. It's been hell trying to keep my hands to myself this past couple of years. But I…but I want… Rose, may I make love to you?"

When she didn't reply right away, he continued, his nerves getting the better of him. "I realize that this is sudden, and you may need time to think it over. It is a big step and I'll understand if you're not ready. Anyway, I should fix your ankle first."

"Doctor."

The Doctor looked back at Rose, slightly startled but the note of command in her voice.

"You talk too much." Leaning forward, she captured his lips in a kiss.

The Doctor thought, on the whole, that she had a point there.

Maybe it was his day after all.

---

The TARDIS purred contentedly to herself. Finally.

Somewhere in Cardiff, Captain Jack Harkness laughed. Tell me about it, he added, then turned his attention back to his computer screen. It was about time he got some work done.