preserved_ginger

Title: Never Say "Never Ever" (3/3)
Character(s): Ten, Rose
Pairing(s): Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Beta(s):

requialexa
Disclaimer: I am not the BBC!
A/N: Finally, it's finished. I've borrowed dialogue from both Nine and Ten, and virtual cookies if you can find the piece borrowed from A. A. Milne's The House at Pooh Corner! The title comes from the Doctor's comment to Rose at the end of Fear Her.
Dedication: For

karenor, to cheer her.
Summary: You were the most important person in my life then – still are.

Chapter One: The Dance

Chapter Two: Nowhere Close To Perfect

Previously: The hand Rose had used to caress his cheek had, finally, made it into his hair; the other was on his hip. He luxuriated in her touch, revelling in being so close to her; he would have made more of an effort to touch her skin, but they were still very much in public. So, instead, he used his tongue to lick along her bottom lip in supplication. Please let me in, he begged – without having to utter a word. Her mouth opened just enough for him to slide in and deepen the kiss – and the last tattered remnants of the outside world still on his radar disappeared as he lost himself in Rose.

Don't ever leave me, Rose; I cannot lose you again.

After breakfast the next morning, Rose pulled him into the garden, saying only that the two of them “needed to talk”. Full of foreboding for what exactly she meant by that, he followed her silently until they were well clear of the house and out of earshot of anyone in it. Obviously she wanted to talk to him privately – he just hoped it was what he wanted to hear. He didn't think he could bear it if she wanted to stay; especially after what they had shared the night before.

Suddenly, and without warning, she practically threw herself at him and pulled him into a tight embrace, burying her face in his neck.

“I've missed being able to do this so much!” Her voice cracked as she said this, and he felt his neck dampen slightly. Tears? She was crying tears, for him? Was there anybody he'd had any kind of relationship with that hadn't ended up damaged in some way because of him? His hearts ached for her, and he wrapped her in his arms trying to bring her comfort.

“Rose, love, don't cry.” He loosened his grip so that he could use one of his hands to lift her face up; when she was looking at him again he kissed the tears away from one eye and then the other before brushing a very gentle kiss over her lips. The words slipped out naturally in the end. “I love you,” he continued, “so very much. I'm so very sorry it took me this long to be able to tell you.”

With that, he brought his lips back down on hers and kissed her properly, deepening the kiss when she opened her mouth to him. That kiss started off comparatively chaste but quickly became frenetic and passionate as they both tried to express to the other what they felt, without using words. But then Rose broke the kiss, claiming they still needed to talk.

“You said you loved me,” she said haltingly, still panting for breath after their kiss. A moment passed. Then the Doctor spoke; as usual, babbling slightly.

“Did I? I suppose I did, didn't I? Yes.”

“Did you mean it?”

This time the answer was instant, unequivocal and short:

“Yes.”

Whatever reaction the Doctor had expected to get from Rose, it wasn't what happened. Rose used her hand for a long, slow caress of his cheek before beginning to speak in a tone of voice that almost broke his hearts to hear.

“That's what I'd hoped you'd say. Back on that beach, after I told you I loved you, I'd hoped you'd say it back. But of course you ran out of time – absolutely typical of you, that, wasn't it?” she said, with surprisingly little rancour. “And so I never really knew, not for certain. But I'd always hoped that that was what you were going to say.”

“It was.”

The Doctor had to force the words out through the lump in his throat that he was finding it suspiciously difficult to swallow past. “It was, Rose. Please believe that. You were the most important person in my life then –still are. I should have said it first, should have made sure you knew without a doubt. But I couldn't find the right words, and by the time I did it was too late.” He pulled her back into his embrace. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

And they stood there for several minutes, hugging each other tightly, before anything else was said. And again, Rose spoke into the silence.

“So, what’re you going to do next?” Her tone was so nuanced and delicate that had he not known her as well as he did he would almost have believed that she didn't much care what happened to him. He knew better – or at least, he thought he did. He’d find out soon enough, either way.

“Well ... you know: back to the TARDIS, same old life. Last of the Time Lords.”

“On — on your own?”

Any remaining nonchalance had fallen away from her voice completely. She wasn’t, he noted, quite as detached about his reappearance as she would like him to believe. What had happened to her to make it so easy for her to believe that he would do the impossible to get back to her and then simply disappear again without her? He loved her. He loved her, damn it, and he wasn’t going anywhere if the doing of it meant being without her. He’d been without her too long to go back to playing that particular game.

But of course, given his reserved MO, he couldn’t say any of that out loud. . What came out of his mouth next hearkened back to their beginning, back to when he’d first met this fantastic woman and had been horribly uncertain of whether she wanted to have anything to do with him. Not a million miles away, in some respects, to where he was right now.

“Uh ... I don't know ... you could come with me?”

He couldn't look at her; still, after all this time, he was unsure of what her reaction would be. For a moment or two - that seemed, to him, to last for ever - neither of them moved, and neither of them said a word. But then - just as he was starting to panic, thinking that maybe she didn't want to come with him after all - he felt her fingers slide into his. He grasped at them to keep them there; he'd been too long without her by his side not to take every opportunity he had to be closer to her.

And then she began to speak.

“I made my choice a long time ago, you know I did. I told you, oh - such a long time ago now - that I was never going to leave you. I said the same to you again when you came back - last night, when you danced with me. And I'll keep telling you the same thing as many times as it takes for you to believe it —”

“Rose —” he tried to interrupt her, suspecting he knew what was coming, but she wasn't having it.

“No; just this once, let me finish - I've waited so very long to tell you this and you're going to listen. I love you. I've loved you for a very long time ... if you only believe this one thing, believe me when I say that that’s one thing that will never, ever change.”

“I know. Rose —”

“Doctor?”

“Oh, Rose.” He breathed her name, knowing that what he had to say next would hurt her and trying to figure out a way to say it that would minimise that for her, just a little. Pulling her closer to him, he began. “Rose, there's nothing in the world I want more than for you to come with me. But you have to know what you'll be giving up if you do.”

“I'll never be able to see my Mum again, will I?” The Doctor flinched at the matter-of-factness of her tone. He figured he owed it to her to be as matter-of-fact in return, so he was. There was no point in sugar-coating this particular pill.

“Never say 'never ever', Rose, but it's exceedingly unlikely. I'm sorry.” He saw Rose's shoulders sag for a few seconds before she shook herself and, looking straight at him, said:

“So when are we leaving, then?”

—∞*@*∞—

And it was settled, just like that. As they walked slowly back to the house, hand in hand as was their style, the first snowflakes started falling from the sky. By the time they'd reached the door and gone back inside, the flakes were falling thick and fast and looked likely to settle. It somehow seemed right, in an odd sort of way, that Rose's first Christmas together with the Doctor would be a white one. And it was proper white, cold, snow this time; none of the dust from blown-up Sycorax ships either – just proper white, cold, snow.

Soon, though, they would go off together. Back to leading the life fantastic, travelling through time and space, and – no doubt – getting themselves into enormous amounts of bother with various alien species on a daily basis. But wherever they went, and whatever happened to them along the way, in that one enchanted moment where they had had – even just for a short while – time together just for them, the Doctor and his Rose would always have for ever.

—∞*@*∞—

“How long are you gonna stay with me?”
“For ever.”

—∞*@*∞—