Chapter 5

He woke the next morning to sun streaming in the window of his bedroom. He also awoke ragingly aroused, having had a dream of Rose, such a vivid dream. He had been making love to her in this room, in this bed. It had been so real that it took him several moments to realize that she was not there with him, that it had not really happened. He dragged himself to a sitting position and rubbed his face with his hands. He realized that he could smell coffee brewing and he stood, making his way out the door to the bathroom, where he saw evidence that Rose had already showered. He would do so after coffee, he decided. He washed his face and brushed his teeth and then headed in the direction of the stairs to go find Rose, but paused outside the door of her room. It stood open and he saw her bed, the covers thrown back, the pillow indented from the weight of her head. Without thinking he entered and sat down on her bed, picking up her pillow and hugging it to his chest as he thought of her words last night, and of his dream. Had she meant the words? Had she meant them in the way he meant them when he said them to her, or did she mean them in a…friendly way? Fraternal? The thought was horrifying. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her pillow, inhaling her scent. He did not, such was the turmoil of his thoughts, hear footsteps on the stairs.

"Are you smelling my pillow?"

He flinched in surprise and looked up to find Rose standing in the doorway of her room, holding two steaming cups and smiling at him. He found he couldn't speak, only stare at her with wide eyes.

"Doctor?" Her eyebrow lifted and her smile broadened. She placed the two mugs on the wardrobe and took a step toward him. "Did you get lost on the way downstairs?"

When he moved it was with a speed that shocked her; in retrospect she was glad she had put down the cups of hot liquid. In a flash he was before her and had buried his fingers in the hair on either side of her face, holding her head steady as he brought his mouth down on hers. Her hands flew to his chest but did not push him away; her mouth opened instinctively to let him deepen the kiss. After a moment her hands slid up around his neck and his own arms dropped to wrap around her waist, in an unconscious reenactment of the kiss on the beach. He could not seem to get close enough to her, no matter how tightly he held her. He backed her up into the wall and continued to kiss her with a passion that felt overwhelming to her in the best possible way. Without thinking, she rotated her hips into his, seeking greater contact with the hardness she felt against her. He made a guttural noise, sort of an "unh", and broke the kiss, yanking his torso back from her but leaving his forehead touching hers. She tried to follow his hips with her own but he brought his hands sharply down to her hipbones, holding her gently but firmly against the wall. She opened her eyes and watched his face, so close to her own. His eyes were closed, his teeth bared, his breath hissing in and out in pants. "Doctor," she whispered.

"Be quiet, Rose. Give me a minute," he whispered back. She whimpered a bit and squirmed against his hands, causing him to increase the pressure holding her to the wall in response. After a long moment he opened his eyes and stepped away from her.

"Doctor, why did you stop?"

"Did you mean it, Rose?"

"Did I mean what?"

"Last night. You said you loved me."

"Of course I meant it."

He reached out to cup her face, holding her eyes with his. "Rose. Do you love me? Or your memory of the man I look like?"

He watched as a chill entered her gaze. She stepped sideways out of his reach. "I could ask you the same question, Doctor. You have talked about loving me since you arrived, but do you only love the memory of the naïve, besotted girl who traveled with you?"

"Rose…"

"No, Doctor!" Her voice was angry now. "You don't have the monopoly on confusion here. We're both dealing with the fact that we obviously have strong feelings for each other. Emotional and…physical." Her lips quirked slightly and her tone softened, but when he took a step forward, she took a corresponding one back. "And many of those feelings are based on the past, on the way things used to be between us. Neither of us can pretend like we know each other very well right now. And so maybe we should just go ahead with our hike as planned and save…this kind of thing for a while, until we're both more comfortable."

He sighed. "You're probably right, Rose. Give me a few minutes?"

"Of course. There's breakfast downstairs."

They drove a good distance, past Loch Leven and along the shores of Loch Linnhe as far as Fort William, then took the turnoff for Glen Nevis. They parked the car and began their hike on a path shaded by trees, the river burbling on the right. After a time, the forest cover thinned and the view opened into the glen, with the mountains up ahead and the thin lace of the Steall falls running down the face of the rock. The reached the riverbank and continued hiking along it until they reached the bridge across the water, which had to be crossed in order to approach the falls themselves. The Doctor thought that "bridge" might be a bit charitable, actually, as it consisted of three thick wires strung across the water–one for the feet and one for each hand. Not the sort of thing he would have hesitated at as a Time Lord, but he felt less certain in this new body. Still, when Rose approached the bridge without any pause and swung herself up onto it, he could hardly help but follow. He was considerably slower and less graceful than she as he crossed, edging his way with the unaccustomed fear of falling plaguing him. He pointed out to himself halfway across that it was not actually very far to the water and that the only thing he would hurt if he fell was his pride. Still, the idea of humiliating himself in front of Rose was not appealing, and he was pleased that he made it to the other side without that happening. A short while later they reached a meadow with a particularly good view of the falls and an appealing area of flat rock on which to perch without worrying about dampness. They did so, and sat in silence for a time. They had a picnic in their bag, but neither made a move yet to open it. Rather, they both seemed focused on the beauty of their surroundings and their own thoughts. The Doctor was the first to break the silence.

"Rose, I need to tell you something. I've made a decision."

She turned her head to him. "That's quite an opening."

"I don't want to work for Torchwood."

Her gaze held his, steadily. "Can I ask why?"

"Several reasons. One, I just can't shake my feelings about the old Torchwood, and even though I know yours is different, I'm afraid I'd bring a bad attitude–a suspicious attitude–to the job. Second, I…I think I'd have a hard time seeing you take risks day after day. I think I would end up hovering, or interfering. And last, I want to do something of my own, on my own." He paused after this rush of words and awaited her thoughts. He felt some trepidation, had been worrying about this for several days, but he knew it was the right decision for him in this new life of his.

"What do you think you want to do?" Her voice was calm, curious.

"I thought I might teach. I actually talked about it a bit with Pete the other day. He said that getting me a teaching job would probably be embarrassingly easy, as long as I was OK with working in…what did he call it? 'Disadvantaged parts of London.'"

Rose snorted. "It's so funny to me…when he talks like that about parts of the city…those are the areas Mum and I lived in my whole life, until we came here." She shook her head. "You really want to teach?"

"Yeah, I think so. I thought maybe physics." He peered at her, saw her grin. "What?"

"Well, if you end up at a school that's anything like mine was…let's just say the Daleks might start looking friendly compared to those kids." She laughed.

"I thought you might not take this so well."

"Because you don't want to work at Torchwood? I admit I'm disappointed. But I see the sense of it, of you finding your own path. I had to when I came here, after all. Do you think…do you think you'll be willing to consult, if we have a piece of alien tech we just can't identify?"

"Of course, Rose, you know I'll always help you."

She smiled and touched his cheek. "You'll be brilliant as a teacher. They'll all be in love with you."

"Don't be silly. They'll hate me for trying to make them learn." And please stop trying to find other people to love me, he thought to himself, slightly sourly.

"No, Doctor, trust me, I was one of those kids once; the teachers who give a damn are the ones they love." She paused and seemed to hesitate before speaking again. "Do you want your own flat too?"

His heart sank. She was angry after all. "Do you want me to move out?"

At the dejection in his voice she reached out and grasped his hand. "No!" His eyes met hers and he felt relief. "No, Doctor, I really don't. But I know you don't like my flat and I thought, in the spirit of 'doing your own thing'…"

"I don't like your flat because you don't seem comfortable there. It doesn't seem lived in. I want to live with you and make a home."

Her smile was beautiful. "OK then."

Again, silence fell between them, but he felt profound relief this time. He had told her and she had understood. His wonderful Rose. She shifted beside him and spoke.

"Doctor. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"It's kind of…embarrassing."

"Now you're the one intriguing me."

"Well." She sighed in frustration. "You tell me you love me. You tell me you love me because the other Doctor did. Right?"

"Yes. He did, and I do."

"But…why did he never touch me?"

The Doctor looked uncomprehending. "I…he touched you all the time. Hugging and all that."

"Don't be thick, Doctor. Why did he never kiss me, or want to have sex with me? You've kissed me more in a week than he did in two years."

He turned horrified eyes on her. "Oh, Rose…didn't you realize?"

"What?"

"Well, Time Lords, they don't…have sex."

She gaped. "What?"

"No. Not for centuries. It's been, well, trained and bred out of us. Them."

"Oh. But how did they have children?"

"They'd harvest eggs and sperm and grow them outside the mother. It's called looming."

"Oh." She repeated. "That doesn't sound like much fun."

He smiled. "No, I suppose not. But no pain or death in childbirth or birth defects either."

"Ah."

He looked in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm just realizing–I, or rather he–he didn't know that you didn't understand that. You thought…you thought I…he didn't want you because of you?"

She slid her eyes away from his and hunched her shoulders. She was stunned. All this time, she had assumed it was her, that she was not attractive enough to lure a Time Lord. Why had the other Doctor never told her this? But, really, why was she surprised? He hadn't told her about regeneration. In the lever room, he had planned to send her with Jackie and Pete without telling her. He hadn't told her about his plans on Bad Wolf Bay.

Her new Doctor rose to his knees and reached out, turned her face to him. "It had nothing to do with you. He loved you. He just wasn't…minded that way."

She stared at him for a few moments. "But you are."

"I think you've seen evidence of that," he said with a grin he hoped was seductive. "Human hormones, me. Thanks to Donna."

"Ah," she said again. He removed his hand from her face and sat back down. They both resumed staring at the falls.

"So he…you never had sex with Martha or Donna either."

"Oi! No! As I said, he just didn't have those urges."

"Wow. So…you're a virgin?"

"In your sense of the word, yes. That OK?"

"Yeah, of course. Do…do you have a basic sense of what we do?"

"Well, yes, I always knew that. And I've been doing some reading recently."

She turned wide eyes on him and a delighted grin spread across her face. "You have? Why?"

"Don't want to be rubbish at it. You know, 'cause I'm inexperienced. I mean, of course, if you decide you want to do it. With me."

"Oh, Doctor. Being rubbish at it has a lot more to do with not caring about it than the number of times you've done it. My first boyfriend was complete rubbish even though he'd slept with a bunch of girls. Because he didn't give a damn about what I felt during."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He didn't force me. But yes, he hurt me. He was my first and I was only fifteen and he didn't take the time to make it nice. And I didn't know any better. All my girlfriends thought sex wasn't supposed to be fun for girls, and I didn't have the sense to talk to Mum until I had a pregnancy scare with Jimmy."

"That must have been a hard conversation."

"Almost made myself sick worrying about it before I did it. But she was brilliant. Took me to the doctor, got me tested for pregnancy–and for everything else, since that prat didn't bother to use a condom. Everything turned up negative, thank God. But when we got home from the doctor's office Mum sat me down and made me tell her everything about what had happened with Jimmy. Then she set my head on straight about sex and how I deserved to be treated. Not to mention got me on birth control!" Rose laughed at the memory. "She wanted to tear Jimmy's head off."

"I can imagine," the Doctor said dryly. "Does the young man still live and breathe, after Jackie Tyler got through with him?"

"He does, but he had to slink around the estate for a long while after she dressed him down in the courtyard in broad daylight, with her voice echoing off the walls. Everyone could hear! It was brilliant."

"Good. Little bastard."

"Yeah. After that, Mum got a bit protective of me around men–as you know!" The Doctor rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "She barely even trusted Mickey, even though we'd known each other since we were small. I think she really felt Dad's absence then, that he wasn't there to look after me and scare off bad sorts."

"Did you…did you date anyone after you came here?"

She twisted her mouth. "No."

"Why not?"

She stared at him. "You're seriously asking me that?"

"But Rose, four years–you didn't try with anyone?"

She sighed. "The first year, I was in no condition to try anything. After that, I threw myself into work, spent all my time there. I only really saw Mickey and Jake and Geoff and a few other colleagues. Jake's gay and Geoff's married and Mickey was…complicated. And I never wanted to date a colleague anyway. The whole Glenn thing just sealed that deal for me."

"What did he do, exactly?"

"He tried to join our group, came out to the pub with us a few times. It was OK for a while, but then he started to ask me out. I tried to be gentle, to make light of it, talked about being married to work, but he wouldn't get the hint. Then once, at Torchwood, he cornered me in an empty conference room, pushed me against a wall and tried to kiss me and feel me up." She gave a short laugh. "Didn't seem to realize the extent of the martial arts training I had. Idiot." She said this with an unsettling combination of disdain and satisfaction, a cold smile lingering on her lips.

The Doctor said nothing, but she saw his hands were clenched. "Doctor, it's OK. I was more than able to take care of myself by that point. It wasn't like…" She stopped suddenly.

"It wasn't like what?"

"N…Nothing."

"Rose, tell me." His tone was commanding and she sighed resignedly.

She lifted her hands to her face and stroked her fingers hard along her brows, as if trying to soothe a headache. "It was…a stupid thing that, fortunately, ended well, through pure luck. It was about a year and a half into my time here. I was eating again, but not much, and still really depressed. I'd started working at Torchwood and had had a hard day there. Seen a team member get hurt. I went to a bar by myself and drank, but I hadn't drunk alcohol in a long time and I weighed so much less, so I got drunker than I expected. I…I danced with a guy. Tall, skinny, floppy brown hair."

The Doctor sucked in his breath and she gave him a wan smile. "Yeah, I know. Didn't look like you at all, really, but about the right height. When he hugged me, if I closed my eyes…it felt close. Of course he didn't smell right or anything, but I was drunk enough not to care, at least at first. I brought him home and we kissed a bit, but when he started to take my shirt off I lost it. Just started crying hysterically, because he wasn't you and because I was drunk, and sad, and lonely."

The Doctor said, low, "Oh, Rose."

"Yeah. But like I said, I was lucky. He actually was a nice guy. He just made me some tea and left. In the state I was in I couldn't have defended myself at all, if he'd been…well, Glenn."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know." She paused, but clearly wanted to say more, so he waited. "It's why I'm having such a hard time now, Doctor. I want you." He could not help but smile at that admission and reached for her hand, but she pressed on. "I want to be with you. A flat together, a life together. It's all I've wanted for years. I tore my body apart looking for you. And now you're offering all that to me. But…I feel like it's still out of my reach, because I'm so afraid. I was such a mess when I lost you. If we were to…be together, and then you were to leave me, I don't know if I could get through it again."

"I'm not going to leave you, Rose."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"No, Doctor, you don't." Her voice was angry now. "You're a brilliant man but that's a stupid thing to say. Putting aside the fact that you could die and you won't regenerate, let's just discuss that you're newly human. You've got new hormones coursing through you, and I'm familiar. Someone you loved in the past. You say you want me, and you love me, but what if you're just infatuated with me? Or worse, the memory of me? Who knows how you'll feel in a month or in a year?"

He didn't answer right away. It was a heartfelt question, and a frightened one, and a glib answer would only make things worse. He took a breath and began. "You're right, Rose. I can't say for sure where I'll be or how I'll feel in six months or a year or ten years. I didn't expect to regenerate on the game station, I didn't expect the lever room. Even as a Time Lord I couldn't foresee everything. I certainly can't now."

She nodded, seeming mollified by his admission. She had held herself tense as if waiting to fight his expected denial of her statement. Now she relaxed and scooted toward him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He took her hand.

"But what I can tell you, Rose, is that when you were away from me, I missed you so much. Every day, I missed you. Everything that happened to me, I wish you had been there to experience it with me. Well…maybe not the terrible things. But you know what I mean. And when I saw you again on that dark street, I just…" his voice broke and he paused to collect himself. Her hand tightened in his and her other arm went around him.

"I know," she whispered.

"I thought maybe I could have you with me again. And as it turned out…Rose, I know this is not what you would have wished for. Me and not him." She opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her with a gesture. "I know it isn't, Rose. I'm not what you worked so hard to get back to. But I love you like he did. And I want you like he never could. You are the woman I loved, but even stronger and smarter and more beautiful. I can't imagine ever wanting to leave you. I will work as hard as I can to make sure I never do. That's all I can promise, Rose. And I promise it. Now you have to decide if it's enough."

When he turned his eyes to her face he saw she was crying, but also smiling. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's true what I said to you the other day. I went looking for him. But I'm glad I found you."

He pulled her toward him and kissed her tear-soaked cheeks, peppering her face with more gentle kisses. She sighed and ran her hands to the back of his neck and moved to capture his mouth, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. Her position sitting beside him was uncomfortable so she moved, rising to her knees and swinging one leg over him before settling down into his lap, facing him. He groaned at the pressure of her bum against his groin, but soon even that sensation was overwhelmed by the depth of their kisses. She buried her fingers in his hair, holding his head in place–as if, he thought to himself, he was going anywhere. His own hands worked their way up under her sweatshirt and splayed flat across her back, thumbs rubbing up and down across the smoothness of her skin. At some point she shifted again, rotating her legs so that she now sat flush on his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, their torsos crushed together. After a few minutes of this the tiny remaining sentient part of his brain noted that things were getting a bit frantic for outdoors, in a public place. The remainder of his brain firmly shushed this voice of reason, and he tightened his grip on her. She released his mouth, gasping, and laid kisses down his jaw, her mouth coming to rest at his ear. "I love you so much," she breathed. At that he moved, fluidly flipping them over, holding the back of her head to prevent any impact as she came to rest beneath him on the ground. She moaned as he took control, burying his face in her neck and sucking the delicate skin he found there. She entwined her legs in his and pressed her pelvis upward against him, causing him to swear softly as he ran his tongue over the red mark he had made.

At that moment, sounds began to intrude on his ears. He felt her tense and still and knew she heard them too. The sound of voices, coming closer, and included among them the higher-pitched tones of children. The Doctor's eyes met Rose's and suddenly the seriousness of their passion was replaced by an adolescent giggling as they both scrambled to sit upright and make themselves decent. Rose smoothed her hair, the Doctor mussed his own, and he reached out to brush leaves from Rose's back. They moved apart, but kept their hands clasped. Sure enough, moments later a family of hikers appeared from the direction of the bridge. The parents smiled in acknowledgment at the seated couple chastely holding hands and apparently absorbed in the view of the falls. After pausing to admire the view themselves, the group moved off, with the three children trailing behind their parents. As they watched the family disappear, Rose said in a wry tone, "I think that may be our cue to head back."

"It will take a few minutes before I'm fit to be seen by impressionable youth," he said. He noticed her smile and lifted an eyebrow at her. "You are amused by my distress, love?"

Her grin widened at the endearment. "No. But happy that I caused it."

"That you did. Minx."

"You have no idea, Doctor," she said with a saucy look, tongue visible at the side of her mouth.

He closed his eyes, momentarily. "You've just bought yourself another five minutes of sitting here, young lady."

The walk back to the car and then the drive back to the cottage had passed in near silence, mostly companionable, with each of them intercepting happy–and vaguely disbelieving–glances from the other. On their return to the house, Rose had told him softly that she wanted to shower. He had seen the wisdom of this, as both of them were sweaty and disheveled from their hike, and he sent her to shower first. He followed when she finished, enjoying the hot water on his muscles. When he emerged and dressed in his pajamas, he did not find her on either of their beds–worse luck–and so descended the stairs in search of her. She was in the kitchen, in a pose reminiscent of the evening before, standing at the counter watching a brewing pot of tea. But her demeanor was entirely different. Instead of being hunched over the counter with tension visible in her shoulders she was leaning backward, hanging from the edge of the counter, balanced on her heels, swaying back and forth. And she was singing. Did Rose Tyler sing? Well, she was singing now.

And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea…

Her song ended in a squeal as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "What are you singing?"

"Don't you know Bob Dylan? From my universe?"

"I would have thought you were a bit young for him."

"Oh, I was, but my dad was a fan and had his records–real records! Mum kept them after he died and liked to play them. I remember hearing that particular song from the time I was little. I told Mum it was my favorite song because it wasn't mushy."

The Doctor laughed. "A clear-eyed realist even then."

She turned in his arms to face him and smiled in return. "When I got here, I started singing all sorts of old songs from our universe, just so I wouldn't forget them. And Pete here has no idea who Bob Dylan is, of course, so it…was a way to keep a hold on my dad. My real dad." She paused. "And this song, it…reminded me of you. Of the Doctor."

"That's appropriate. Dylan's an alien, you know."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

She was thoughtful. "Actually, that explains a lot."

Her gaze returned to his, and they smiled simultaneously. Then suddenly, feeling his growing hardness as he pressed against her, she blushed and dropped her eyes, fiddling with the lapel on his pajama top. He waited, not releasing her, but not moving to do more. Finally she took a breath, raised her eyes, and looked at him squarely. He loved her even more then, her courage and her nervousness simultaneously on show. "Is this it, Doctor?"

"I think so, don't you?"

"Oh, yes."

With that permission granted, his mouth met hers. She marveled, momentarily, before sensation overcame her, at the harmony of their kisses. No awkward clashing of teeth or missing of mouths, as had happened with her boyfriends in her youth. Rather, from that first kiss on the beach, they seem to know what the other needed and would do. Their mouths melded and tongues entwined as if choreographed, practiced in advance. She grew lightheaded from his kissing and realized it might be a good idea for both of them to breathe. She broke the kiss to gasp air and felt gratified at the heaving of his own chest. With him distracted by an unaccustomed need for oxygen she went after his neck, planting slow open-mouthed kisses from his jaw down toward his chest, flicking her tongue and sucking lightly as she went. He groaned loudly and his hands went from holding her to him to gripping her for support. The thought occurred to her that, for perhaps the first time ever in all the forms she had known him, the Doctor was in her power. He was the innocent, the inexperienced, and she was the expert. Well, as much of an expert as she could be with six years since her last shag.

Her smugness increased as she nibbled his collarbone, exposed at the edge of his pajama top–really, his pale skin with the dusting of freckles was too luscious for words–but then he seemed to recover himself and worked his hands under her fleece top, sliding up over her stomach to cup her breasts, then sliding further up to pinch her nipples. She cried out and dropped her forehead to his shoulder, trying to steady herself against him. He continued to gently work her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, while simultaneously leaning in to suck her earlobe. The sensation was overwhelming and she clung to him to try to stay upright. Who was she kidding? She was not experienced in this. The Doctor had just evoked feelings in her with his hands and mouth well above her waist that Jimmy and even Mickey had never done in all their perusals of her body. This was undiscovered country, and she and the Doctor were both strangers in it, together. At that realization she gripped his head in both her hands and pulled him to look at her. "Doctor, I want you to know…"

He looked dazed. "What?" He tweaked her nipples again and she moaned.

"God…I want you to know I love you. So much."

"Oh, Rose. My Rose." He slid his hands around her back and crushed her to him. He felt painfully hard against her, and she rubbed herself against that hardness, trying to alleviate some of the ache in her own groin. It didn't work, but only intensified her feeling, especially when he shuddered against her.

"Rose…let's go upstairs."

Wordlessly she took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her dark room. In the dim light she could see the cover was still thrown back on the bed, and she shivered, remembering their encounter by that bed earlier that day. That same day? Could it be? She heard a click behind her and a soft light flooded the room. He had switched on a small lamp that sat on a low table in one corner. The light was golden and flattering and yet she was suddenly nervous, her fingers ghosting over her fleece top and cotton sleeping shorts. Why had she not thought to bring something sexier? He was next to her then, moving with sudden determination–when had his pajama top vanished?–and before she knew what was happening he had slid his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and dropped them at her feet. She stepped out of them, compliantly, and he did the same for her top, leaving her naked in the light of the lamp. He stepped back and stared at her.

This made her bashful. Even in this dim light, her scars were clearly visible, webbing her stomach and her upper thigh. Again her hands fluttered indeterminately, not seeking to hide the marks, exactly, for they were too extensive for her hands to cover, but almost as if trying to distract his gaze from them by the movement. He seemed to understand this and he grasped her hands in his, holding them wide. "Rose, they came from you trying to find me. They are part of you. And you…you are so beautiful I could come now from just looking at you."

She looked up and saw that his jaw was tight, that the muscles of his shoulders were visibly tense. He was indeed struggling for control. The sight of her Doctor, nearly undone at the sight of her, the real her, the now her, with her scars, worked a magic deep inside her. She stepped toward him and kissed him with all the intensity of her love, wrapping one arm around his waist and using the other to work around the elastic of his pajama bottoms until they dropped and he was as naked as she. The sensation of their bare bodies against each other caused them both to shudder convulsively. "Rose," he gasped. "I don't think…I don't think I'm going to last long at all…" He looked impossibly beautiful to her, aroused and nervous.

She put her hand on his face. "Here's what we will do. We'll do this now, and it will be quick and dirty for both of us, believe me." He moaned softly and captured her thumb with his lips, sucking gently, but she continued, inexorable. "Then we'll go downstairs and drink lukewarm tea, and eat something, and then we'll come back here and take as long as we need to when we do it again. And maybe again. OK?"

A slight smile curled one corner of his mouth but a hint of worry remained. "I don't want to be too quick and…and hurt you, Rose."

She realized he was thinking of what she had told him about Jimmy and if not for the earnest look on his face she would have laughed out loud. As if it was comparable. As if. Rather, she made her face as serious as she could manage and said, "Doctor, I have never been this wet in my entire life. You could not hurt me." She took his hand in hers. "Want to see?" And she guided his hand to her folds.

For both of them, the sensation of his long fingers sliding across her was knee-buckling. It was fortunate that she was next to the bed when she brought him to touch her, because moments later she was flat on her back on that bed, albeit with her feet still on the floor. Showing the surprising strength in his wiry form, he picked her up bodily and tossed her to the center of the bed and then jumped in next to her, his face in her neck and his hand resuming its place in her wet center. He zeroed in immediately on the right spot, rubbing gently but firmly while he alternated between kissing her breasts and whispering in her ear. With a speed that would have been embarrassing, were it anyone but the Doctor, she was clinging to him, crying out and grinding her pelvis into his hand. Her words were garbled, "God, I love you, never leave me, Doctor, I love you…"

When she finally stilled, her breath still racing, she became aware of him next to her, whimpering softly, his penis impossibly hard against her inner thigh, dampness at its tip. She momentarily debated teasing him just a bit, but quickly resolved to save that for later. She guided his body to hover over her, lifted her legs around his waist, positioned him, then moved her hands to his bum and applied pressure. He slid into her in one thrust, causing both of them to cry out, and then he froze. "Oh, Rose, fuck, Rose…" he muttered against her ear. She held him tightly in her, marveling at the feel of him inside her. Finally he gasped, "Please, love, let me move…" and she lifted her hands. He thrust into her, hard, three times before he wailed her name and his whole body stiffened for a long moment. Then he collapsed on top of her, sweaty and shaking.

Their breaths slowed together and finally he rolled off her, gathering her to his chest. He felt her shoulders shaking slightly and lifted his head to look at her face. She was laughing softly and she reached up to kiss him. He asked, "What is funny?"

"Us. How much I love you. How quick we both were."

He hummed contentedly, eyes closed. "Best five seconds of my life."

"Those must have been some books you were reading."

"I have not even begun to show you the extent of my newfound expertise, I'll have you know."

"Something to look forward to, then."

"Hush up and rest next to me for a moment, my love, and then I'll show you," he said, pulling her close.

An hour of dozing later, sweetly curled together.

"Rose?"

"Yes?"

"Should we have thought about birth control?"

She kissed his shoulder. "Torchwood field agents–women, that is–get birth control shots. They last six months. I'm covered."

"Hmm. So we'll have to plan ahead when we want to have babies." She lay very still for a moment, then lifted her head and used one finger on his chin to turn his face to hers.

"You're lying there making big plans for us, I see."

He smiled complacently at her. "Yep."

Her eyes were huge at this close range. "And how long are you going to stay with me?"

Recognition filled him, and love, and desire. Was it really possible to laugh and cry at the same time in this body? Ridiculous. But he managed to speak his answer past the happy emotion choking his throat. "Forever."

fin