The Way of Things, Chapter 34
Things moved quickly after Penington’s rather stunning statement. Both he and Rose followed the DC, meeting up with James in the small room set aside for computer-related forensics. The screen in front of them appeared to be full of gibberish, but Rose immediately recognized it; her face was grim as she turned to James.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Seems like they’re behind everything, these days.” Rose gestured for James to explain, and he did-telling Peter and Penny of the multi-national corporation which purportedly dealt in pharmaceuticals, but in reality was the biggest black-market trafficker of illegally obtained weapons and alien tech. Peter fought down the urge to inquire why they’d not shut the company down, if they knew so much about it; there was no doubt far more to the story than James was giving him.
“So we know the who. How does that help us with the where?” Peter asked once James had finished.
He didn’t miss the briefly panicked look which appeared in James’s eyes, didn’t miss how he looked towards Rose for guidance. Instead of looking at James, Rose was looking at him thoughtfully, her glance shifting over to Penington’s once she noticed Peter watching her in return.
Realisation dawned. “Ah, this would be one of those things where you can’t tell us, then. Not required information for the locals?” He heard the residual bitterness in his voice, and winced.
Rose flushed as she answered, a touch defensively, “OSA applies, yes. But that’s not why we can’t tell you.” She looked meaningfully around the small room, arching an eyebrow at him as he was a bit slow on the uptake.
“We see, Rose,” Penington offered. Peter mentally kicked himself-his head was off in the clouds, when it should be solidly grounded in the station and the facts of the case.
Rose slowly-teasingly-smiled at Peter, before turning to James. “Did you let Jacques know?”
James laughed. “He’s the one who sent me the information. I think it’s already being...addressed from his side.”
Rose turned to Peter, gazing levelly at him before she returned her attention to James. “Who from the locals is Jacques going to work with?”
James looked genuinely surprised, and paused before answering. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Mickey or Jake if they’ve set something with him; Jacques mentioned he was going to ring them once he was done speaking with me.”
Rose nodded. “Right, then. Let’s get that coordinated, using either the DI or the DC as our points, shall we?”
James was giving Rose a curious look. He’d picked up on her change in attitude-her voice held more life, her body language excited instead of tense. Peter would have picked up on it immediately, even if he hadn’t been the one to cause the change; he fought down a self-satisfied grin at the thought.
James slid his gaze over to Peter, who tried to look nonchalant. “Yes,” he said, slowly, smiling. “Shall I keep Penny here to help, then? While you and the DI...coordinate?”
Rose blushed as Peter fought down a grin. She slowly stammered a response, and Peter felt the need to intervene. “That’d be lovely, James, ta. We’ll be in the interrogation room.”
Penington looked a bit embarrassed, as though he’d just heard his parents mention sex, while James laughed heartily. Rose had opened her mouth to speak, and he took her arm and pulled her from the room.
“Peter!” she hissed at him once they were in the hallway, walking towards the interrogation room.
He stopped suddenly, turning to her-she bumped against him before taking a step back and looking up at him.
“Rose. If it’s something they genuinely can’t manage, then go back. But I, personally, would rather we take advantage of our newly rediscovered penchant for talking with each other. Wouldn’t you?”
He saw Rose take a breath, as though to argue, before closing her mouth and nodding slowly.
They walked back to the room, in silence. Rose preceded him through the door, walking across to her chair as he closed it. He thought briefly of locking it, before deciding it wouldn’t be necessary. If-when-he made love to Rose Tyler for the first time, it wasn’t going to be in the station. Not if he could help it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them and turning to her.
Rose was standing behind her chair, looking unsure of what to do. She blushed as she caught his eye, and gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry. Nervous all of a sudden.”
He walked over to his chair, being sure to give Rose enough room that she wouldn’t feel crowded. Instead of sitting down, he dragged the battered object around the table until it was facing Rose’s-close enough that he could touch her, far enough away that she could get up and move away without trouble. “I did say we’d talk. I thought it might be...ah, better? To sit here?” He sat in his chair, leaning back.
Rose’s lips quirked. “None of the other chairs in the room would have sufficed?” She sat, her knees lightly brushing his, and gave an exaggerated look at the other chairs around the room.
He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He needed a trim, he thought idly, before once again meeting Rose’s gaze.
“I rather like this chair. It’s...comfy.” There was a note of humour to his voice.
“Comfy.” Rose sounded sceptical.
He sighed. They were both stalling for time, neither wanting to be the one to start a conversation that was going to be so personal. He looked down at his hands, noting the black ink from his notes staining the right one; he clenched them, and forced himself to start the conversation.
“Rose, I’m sorry I was such an arse on Saturday.” He raised his eyes to hers, noting the surprise which crossed her face as she blushed anew.
She chewed on the corner of her lip as she thought about her answer, her eyes flitting between his face and various bits of the room. The silence lasted for several moments, and he was just about to the point of exasperatedly suggesting he might have misjudged her willingness to talk when she spoke.
Rose’s voice was soft, her eyes downcast, as she responded, “I’m the one who should apologise.” She met his gaze, her hazel eyes large. “You’ve nothing to apologise for, Peter. Nothing. I--” She paused, her eyes fluttering shut as she sighed deeply. “Well. If I’d it to do over again, I’d handle it differently.” Her eyes opened, meeting his as she finished.
“I should have talked to you, Rose. Not…got lost in my thoughts and my insecurities. Instead of wondering things and imagining answers, I should have asked you-talked with you.”
She smiled sadly. “I should have told you, right away, without needing to be asked. There was plenty of time for me to ramble on; so many other things I should have said...’s my fault-“
“Rose-“
“No, Peter. I’ll say ‘apology accepted’ if it will make you feel better-but ‘s still me who messed this up in the first place.” She leaned forward, her legs pressing into his. “There’s more I need to tell you-the rest of the story, as it were. If you’ll let me?”
He felt a brief wave of panic wash through him at the thought of what other things she might yet have to tell. Quashing the fear, he nodded. “I’d like to hear what you’ve to say. And...if I’m quiet...” He made sure he held Rose’s gaze before continuing. “If I’m quiet, it’s not because I’m not listening.” He trailed off, not quite sure how else to reassure her.
“I’ll keep talking,” she said softly.
“Do, please. I do want to know-it’s part of what makes you who you are, this whole thing. And I want to know you.”
Rose blushed a deep scarlet at his final statement, and he smiled softly at her. He was tempted to lean forward, to reach out and capture her hands, but held himself back, unsure if she wanted that just yet.
“Right. Well.” Rose gave a small laugh. “I can’t even figure out where to start now, although I reckon no matter what I’ll not cock it up as badly as I did the first time.”
Peter did lean forward then, taking both of her hands in his. He watched Rose’s gaze drift down, staring intently at their clasped hands as she thought. He took her in, savouring having her there, with him, again. If they could get through this, he thought...
Rose startled him, her eyes meeting his as she began speaking in a soft, confident voice. “I told you the Doctor was your twin.” He reflexively flinched at the statement; Rose paused as she took in his reaction, lightly squeezing his hands as she continued, “I was wrong, y’see? You look alike, but that’s all. You’re...you’re as different as could be. When I first met you, I didn’t see that. But then we started workin’ together. And I kept...trying, so hard, not to be around you, because you looked like him.” Rose’s eyes had once more dropped to their clasped hands. “I was terrible, I know-bein’ cold and standoffish and just trying desperately to avoid you because you looked like him, not wanting to give you a chance in case I started to like you. But then...I saw you an’ Mickey an’ Jake become mates, and I was seein’ you be...well, you.”
Her eyes rose to meet his, and he felt a flash of heat at what he saw there. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as she paused, gazing intently at him. She’d admitted to only seeing the Doctor when she saw him-but only at first. Her simple statement of how she’d watched him, had started to see him and not someone else, nearly took his breath away.
He wasn’t sure if she was expecting him to speak; he was just scrambling for something to say when she continued. “Somewhere along the way, I stopped seein’ him at all when you walked into the room. I...You’re a very distracting man, you know. I couldn’t stop knowing it was you, seein’ you, watchin’ you. You were drivin’ me spare, and I was so intent on...trying to figure out if I was attracted to you, or if I was chasin’ ghosts.”
She squeezed his hands once more, a blush stealing over her cheeks as she continued. “An’ then we went to the warehouse, and all I could think about was...how much I wanted to know what you were like. You, Peter. And somewhere out there-probably right about the time you started spouting off poetry-I realized, properly, that it was you I was seein’, you I was wanting to kiss, an’ I was wishin’ I hadn’t been such a cow at the beginnin’ of this whole thing because there was no way you’d be interested in doin’ that sort of thing with me-”
“Oh, but I was,” he interjected, his voice low. Rose smiled, ducking her head in embarrassment.
“I worked that out. That was...toe curling.” She met his gaze with her statement, her eyes holding a flicker of heat. He tugged lightly on her hands, pulling her towards him; she laughed, pulling back. “Oh no you don’t. Not until I finish this. I don’t want to get distracted, now I’ve started.” She freed one of her hands, reaching up to lightly stroke his cheek.
He felt a tingle run down his spine as she lightly stroked her fingers against his stubble, and he quickly turned to kiss her hand before saying, “Best get on with it. I’m not going to be able to hold back forever.”
Her eyes widened, even as she licked her lips; Peter felt his desire for her blaze briefly before he wrestled it back down.
She brought her hand back down to clasp his before continuing, “And then you took me on the most amazin’ date. And I wanted to tell you, right away. Because you needed to know-you deserved to know. But I was worried about how you’d react, that I’d get hurt...” She dropped her eyes to her lap as she whispered, “that I’d lose any chance with you.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he realized just how difficult it had been for Rose. Would he have told her about Natalie quite so soon, if he’d not already suspected she knew most of the story? “Rose-“
She squeezed his hands, returning her gaze to his face. Her eyes were bright as she once more spoke. “And then I didn’t tell you, and I kept finding reasons -excuses-to push it off. And Mickey kept telling me to tell you-”
Peter couldn’t stifle the sound of disbelief.
Rose grinned. “He did, actually. Every time I came back, he’d ask if I’d told you. And he let me know he did not approve when I didn’t.” She sighed, her grin fading. He felt her begin to pull her hands away, and lightly squeezed them as he looked at her questioningly.
“Arms are gettin’ tired, reaching forward.” Rose’s expression was apologetic.
Peter released her hands, accepting her explanation and trying very hard not to think her change in position was because she felt so exposed. He remained leaning forward, forearms on his thighs, as she continued with her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“And then there was the night at your place.”
“I’d not meant to pressure you, Rose.”
“You didn’t. Well, not really-‘s not like I was fighting very hard, at any rate. That night, though-there...I had decided I needed to tell you about the Doctor before anything else happened. And I wanted...I wanted things to happen. Badly. But I’d not told you, I hadn’t figured out how or when. And dinner that night, and then Saturday in the garden...you had to know, you didn’t have the full picture of what was goin’ on, and it wasn’t right or fair. I’d run out of time, I was missing my opportunities, and I didn’t want to miss any more. “
She huddled back into herself, crossing her arms as she remembered that day. Peter reached out, lightly resting his hand on her knee. “Rose, I wish I’d reacted better. You...” He closed his eyes, trying to work out what to say. “I knew it had been hard for you; you ‘d warned me you had something to share, and I could see you were struggling with something, I knew you were scared that day. And then I-“
“-You reacted exactly as you should. I messed things up with how I told you. I went about it all wrong...” Her voice was thick with regret.
Peter was confused. “You told me the truth-how was that wrong? I’d rather that than some half-truth, sugar coated to the point of my missing the point.” He leaned back, the thought of her overtly lying to him repulsive.
She leaned forward, reaching out for his hands. “No. I was wrong because I was only thinking of me, of what it was going to do to me to tell you. I should have been thinking of you. I was being selfish, and then, when you got quiet, I just...I’ve always been able to deal with yelling. Yelling’s easy-it’s something to react to, y’know? It would have been easier for me to know what to do if you’d yelled. But you didn’t and I didn’t know what to do, and all I could feel was how much I was hurting, not even thinking of what it must be doin’ to you...”
Peter’s head was full of thoughts and emotions, the feelings of that day lurking as he tried to understand what Rose had been through. For all of the talking they’d done on their dates, they’d not come close to the soul-baring that was going on in that room, right at that moment.
Rose straightened, holding his gaze as she said deliberately, “That was the problem. I didn’t think about you at all that day. What I should have told you is that you’re the man I see. When we kiss,”--Rose blushed--“it’s you I’m kissing, your skin I feel, you I taste.”
Peter held his breath, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss Rose senseless.
She faltered briefly, looking slightly lost. Her gaze dropped, and he leaned forward. “Rose. I was hurt by what you told me. Because I don’t want to be some replacement for you.” He ran a hand through his hair.
Rose reached up with her free hand to capture it, ducking her head to meet his eyes. “Peter, you’re not a replacement.” She kissed his hand before enfolding it in her own. “I should have told you, right away, that I didn’t see you that way. When you laugh, when you’re angry, when you’re giving poor Penny a hard time-all of it-I don’t see anyone but you. And that’s what I should have told you-that’s what I should have realized was the important thing to say. And I’m sorry I didn’t, that I instead started making this about me, and not you-us.”
Peter’s heart was racing in his chest; he couldn’t believe what Rose was saying, sitting in front of him. He fought the urge to pinch himself, to see if his subconscious was playing another vicious joke. He fully expected to wake up with his head on the table, Mickey looming threateningly over him. He was speechless.
“And, ah...I shouldn’t have run off to London.” Rose’s tone was wry.
He quirked a smile in response. “I think London was just what we needed. If you’d been around, I’d’ve been so distracted by you that I’d never have straightened my own thoughts out. We’d be staring at each other across the room, sullen silence descending, the rest of the team sitting off to the side with snacks and drinks as they watched the show. Not unlike this morning, really.”
Rose laughed. “I fear we’ve ruined their plans for the evening’s entertainment.”
Peter couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned forward, pulling on Rose’s hands to bring her forward to meet him. She still wore a smile as his lips met hers.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Rose felt nothing but relief as Peter brought her forward for a kiss. He’d been so quiet as she’d spoken, his gaze dark as she’d struggled to tell him even some of what she felt, of what she had learned over the past few days. The brush of his lips against hers put the remainder of her fears to rest, and she savoured the gentle contact.
She finally pulled back, dazedly opening her eyes. Peter’s warm gaze met hers, and she felt a tingle run through her body. If he could do that with just a light kiss and a gaze...
She licked her lips, having one last thing she needed to say to Peter. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
She saw his eyes widen briefly in surprise, before his gaze grew more intense. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you either, Rose. I should have had more faith in you-in the fact that maybe you were actually interested in my charming personality and rapier wit. Even identical twins have different personalities, right?” He gave her a small smile. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me, and we’ll chalk this up to...the joys of getting to know one another. Fair deal?”
Rose felt as though she were getting off lightly, and was about to say so when Peter continued.
“Rose, I don’t know what kind of penance you’re looking for. It’s done, it’s over-it’s in the past. I’d rather we move on, building on this-rather than keep dwelling on it, to the point of being so focused on how you told me, or how I reacted, that we simply can’t see a future together, of any sort.” His voice dropped, his gaze growing heated. “I don’t want us to end before we ever began, Rose. We both made mistakes-can’t we use them to learn and try to move forward?”
She nodded, still not convinced but willing to accept what Peter suggested. “I do want to...to see what’s ahead. To move forward. But...it might take me a little while yet to forgive myself.”
Peter looked at her thoughtfully. “It’s your choice, forgiving yourself-I know I forgive you. But-after a while-remember there’s a point where self-recrimination becomes self-indulgence instead of something productive. Just be careful of that?” His voice was gentle and he paused, dropping his eyes before adding, “I know something about that, and don’t want to see you go through it.”
He met her gaze, vulnerability evident in his eyes; Rose fought the urge to ask him what he was talking about, instead leaning forward to brush a light kiss over his lips. “Done, and sealed with a kiss,” she said, sitting back.
A look of wonderment crossed Peter’s face, before one of those grins she adored appeared.
Her mum’s advice about letting him know what it was she l...iked about him echoed in her mind. Before she could overthink it, she blurted out, “I love it when you smile.”
She felt her skin flush, adrenaline coursing through her system at the admission. Peter’s grin became a genuine smile, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself; leaning forward, he whispered, “Then we’ll just have to make sure I smile more often.” He sat back with a wink, and Rose thought she might just combust.
They stared at each other in silence for a few beats before Peter leaned forward once more. “I don’t suppose you have any requests for dinner? I’ve never really asked, have I?” His smile had faded, but his voice had the warmth in it which she adored-and which she had only ever heard when he was talking with her.
She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts. “I’ve never really thought about it- well, except that one time with the chips. You’ve always done such lovely things, it’s never really occurred to me.” Peter waited patiently as she thought out loud, watching as she tried to work out what she’d like to do for dinner. She laughed lightly. “I guess I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed all of the places and things we’ve done.”
Peter’s lips were curved upwards at the corner, bemusement evident. She paused, and decided she’d best give him at least some direction. “Something low key, I suppose. Not dressy, I couldn’t handle that-not tonight.”
“Low key, got it.” He checked his watch. “Right. I reckon they’re not going to come in here, even under pain of death-so it might be time to go see what we’ve missed this past hour. It’s nearly five, at any rate.”
Rose blinked. “An hour?”
“Oh, very well, I exaggerated. It’s been forty-five minutes,” Peter said, standing. She took the hand he extended, pulling her up to him for a kiss before he took a step back. “If things go to schedule, I’ll meet you at your hotel around seven?”
That would give her roughly an hour-if things followed their usual pattern-to go back, talk with Mickey, and get ready for supper. It would be tight, but she could do it-she would do it. She didn’t want to spend a moment without him that wasn’t strictly necessary.
In fact, if she didn’t think it would be so shockingly unprofessional that she would never stop being teased for it by her team-ever-she would have suggested that they sign off for the day immediately, forget about “getting ready” for the date, and go straight to his house to tear each other’s clothing off.
“Rose?” said Peter. “Does seven work?”
“I suppose,” she said, and heard the wistful regret in her voice. Peter grinned, and she cleared her throat and pulled herself together. “Seven o’clock. Yes. Perfect,” she said, briskly. “Right. Let’s go see how Penny and James are getting on, and let them know it’s safe to use the room for the debrief.”
The rest of the team-all of them-were lurking in the station room. Rose blushed furiously as she and Peter walked in to find the group huddled around Penny’s desk. Jake was grinning like an idiot, Penny wasn’t sure where to look, James looked nonplussed, and Mickey...he gave the DI a very hard stare, what Rose used to call his ‘I’m so tough’ look, back before he had the skill to back up the non-verbal threat. Peter didn’t flinch, and Mickey relaxed his expression, his gaze sliding over to Rose. She smiled, and saw him calm further.
The team were surprisingly quiet-Rose had expected far more teasing as she and Peter re-joined the world outside the room. Instead, despite grinning at the two of them, the group looked tired; she considered that a night off would do everyone a world of good; they needed to be well-rested if they were to stay sharp, to solve the final bits of the case.
They returned en masse to the interrogation room for the debrief, everyone eager to leave for the night. Even behind closed doors, no one commented on what Peter and Rose might have got up to during their time alone; Rose was beginning to worry about her team, when Jake caught her eye and winked, his smile impossible to hide. Her worry changed rapidly to suspicion-they were being far, far too quiet.
The final meeting of the day progressed quickly, each of the team members providing a status report. Four PC’s were still guarding Swinson’s house, and Jacques was sending some of his team north to ‘assist’ in ‘securing’ the location. Ian and his team were conducting a thorough search of the house and the area immediately surrounding it, hoping to find any sort of evidence, but specifically looking for proof that Philippa and/or McGreevy had been there prior to their deaths. The forensics team would partner with Jacques’s staff upon their arrival, to see if any other untoward activity had occurred, and to ensure there were no other unknown associates lurking in the wings.
Jacques was ‘utilising his resources’ to determine if Swinson’s exact location could be determined. He’d also issued a Torchwood-wide alert to be on the lookout for Swinson, and was working with the more traditional intelligence services to see what help they might be able to offer in the manhunt.
Jake had volunteered to be on call that night, ensuring Mickey would be partnered with him; at the close of the report-out, Jake took pains to emphasize that he, Mickey, and James would be joining the DC for drinks at the local before calling it a night. Rose had to stifle a grin as Mickey bristled at Jake’s direction, and made a note to take Jake out for a meal at the end of the case.
She didn’t miss how her team had structured things so there was no central meeting in the morning, either. Jake and Mickey would be reporting directly to the scene, while James and Penny would be with Ian and Gerry, reviewing any further forensics of interest. She and Peter, apparently, would be left to their own devices, the implication being that they’d be working together again to try to refine the interrelationships and the core underpinnings of the case. Or working together on other things, she supposed-if one had a dirty mind. Which she was beginning to realise she most assuredly did where Peter Carlisle was concerned.
The meeting wrapped after a half-hour. While James, Jake, and Penny left quickly, Mickey lingered until she promised to meet up with him in the station room. He left reluctantly, wanting to speak with her, to make sure all was well, but at least his outright hostility appeared to have come to an end.
Peter was taking his time straightening things up for transfer to the evidence locker, and Mickey’s departure left just the two of them in the room. She took advantage of his seeming preoccupation, walking up to him; he surprised her by turning, capturing her in his arms and swooping in for a kiss.
It was brief, but she was still breathless when he released her. He took a step back, and she smiled at his smug expression. “You sneaky devil.”
He grinned at her. “You’ve no idea.” She thought he might give her another kiss, but he instead returned to his task. “Go on with you-you’ve Mickey waiting. I’ll be there at seven. Dress for ‘low key’ dining.”
She leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you then.” She walked around the table and out of the room, headed for a talk with Mickey before getting ready for the first date of her new relationship with Peter.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Seems like they’re behind everything, these days.” Rose gestured for James to explain, and he did-telling Peter and Penny of the multi-national corporation which purportedly dealt in pharmaceuticals, but in reality was the biggest black-market trafficker of illegally obtained weapons and alien tech. Peter fought down the urge to inquire why they’d not shut the company down, if they knew so much about it; there was no doubt far more to the story than James was giving him.
“So we know the who. How does that help us with the where?” Peter asked once James had finished.
He didn’t miss the briefly panicked look which appeared in James’s eyes, didn’t miss how he looked towards Rose for guidance. Instead of looking at James, Rose was looking at him thoughtfully, her glance shifting over to Penington’s once she noticed Peter watching her in return.
Realisation dawned. “Ah, this would be one of those things where you can’t tell us, then. Not required information for the locals?” He heard the residual bitterness in his voice, and winced.
Rose flushed as she answered, a touch defensively, “OSA applies, yes. But that’s not why we can’t tell you.” She looked meaningfully around the small room, arching an eyebrow at him as he was a bit slow on the uptake.
“We see, Rose,” Penington offered. Peter mentally kicked himself-his head was off in the clouds, when it should be solidly grounded in the station and the facts of the case.
Rose slowly-teasingly-smiled at Peter, before turning to James. “Did you let Jacques know?”
James laughed. “He’s the one who sent me the information. I think it’s already being...addressed from his side.”
Rose turned to Peter, gazing levelly at him before she returned her attention to James. “Who from the locals is Jacques going to work with?”
James looked genuinely surprised, and paused before answering. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Mickey or Jake if they’ve set something with him; Jacques mentioned he was going to ring them once he was done speaking with me.”
Rose nodded. “Right, then. Let’s get that coordinated, using either the DI or the DC as our points, shall we?”
James was giving Rose a curious look. He’d picked up on her change in attitude-her voice held more life, her body language excited instead of tense. Peter would have picked up on it immediately, even if he hadn’t been the one to cause the change; he fought down a self-satisfied grin at the thought.
James slid his gaze over to Peter, who tried to look nonchalant. “Yes,” he said, slowly, smiling. “Shall I keep Penny here to help, then? While you and the DI...coordinate?”
Rose blushed as Peter fought down a grin. She slowly stammered a response, and Peter felt the need to intervene. “That’d be lovely, James, ta. We’ll be in the interrogation room.”
Penington looked a bit embarrassed, as though he’d just heard his parents mention sex, while James laughed heartily. Rose had opened her mouth to speak, and he took her arm and pulled her from the room.
“Peter!” she hissed at him once they were in the hallway, walking towards the interrogation room.
He stopped suddenly, turning to her-she bumped against him before taking a step back and looking up at him.
“Rose. If it’s something they genuinely can’t manage, then go back. But I, personally, would rather we take advantage of our newly rediscovered penchant for talking with each other. Wouldn’t you?”
He saw Rose take a breath, as though to argue, before closing her mouth and nodding slowly.
They walked back to the room, in silence. Rose preceded him through the door, walking across to her chair as he closed it. He thought briefly of locking it, before deciding it wouldn’t be necessary. If-when-he made love to Rose Tyler for the first time, it wasn’t going to be in the station. Not if he could help it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them and turning to her.
Rose was standing behind her chair, looking unsure of what to do. She blushed as she caught his eye, and gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry. Nervous all of a sudden.”
He walked over to his chair, being sure to give Rose enough room that she wouldn’t feel crowded. Instead of sitting down, he dragged the battered object around the table until it was facing Rose’s-close enough that he could touch her, far enough away that she could get up and move away without trouble. “I did say we’d talk. I thought it might be...ah, better? To sit here?” He sat in his chair, leaning back.
Rose’s lips quirked. “None of the other chairs in the room would have sufficed?” She sat, her knees lightly brushing his, and gave an exaggerated look at the other chairs around the room.
He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He needed a trim, he thought idly, before once again meeting Rose’s gaze.
“I rather like this chair. It’s...comfy.” There was a note of humour to his voice.
“Comfy.” Rose sounded sceptical.
He sighed. They were both stalling for time, neither wanting to be the one to start a conversation that was going to be so personal. He looked down at his hands, noting the black ink from his notes staining the right one; he clenched them, and forced himself to start the conversation.
“Rose, I’m sorry I was such an arse on Saturday.” He raised his eyes to hers, noting the surprise which crossed her face as she blushed anew.
She chewed on the corner of her lip as she thought about her answer, her eyes flitting between his face and various bits of the room. The silence lasted for several moments, and he was just about to the point of exasperatedly suggesting he might have misjudged her willingness to talk when she spoke.
Rose’s voice was soft, her eyes downcast, as she responded, “I’m the one who should apologise.” She met his gaze, her hazel eyes large. “You’ve nothing to apologise for, Peter. Nothing. I--” She paused, her eyes fluttering shut as she sighed deeply. “Well. If I’d it to do over again, I’d handle it differently.” Her eyes opened, meeting his as she finished.
“I should have talked to you, Rose. Not…got lost in my thoughts and my insecurities. Instead of wondering things and imagining answers, I should have asked you-talked with you.”
She smiled sadly. “I should have told you, right away, without needing to be asked. There was plenty of time for me to ramble on; so many other things I should have said...’s my fault-“
“Rose-“
“No, Peter. I’ll say ‘apology accepted’ if it will make you feel better-but ‘s still me who messed this up in the first place.” She leaned forward, her legs pressing into his. “There’s more I need to tell you-the rest of the story, as it were. If you’ll let me?”
He felt a brief wave of panic wash through him at the thought of what other things she might yet have to tell. Quashing the fear, he nodded. “I’d like to hear what you’ve to say. And...if I’m quiet...” He made sure he held Rose’s gaze before continuing. “If I’m quiet, it’s not because I’m not listening.” He trailed off, not quite sure how else to reassure her.
“I’ll keep talking,” she said softly.
“Do, please. I do want to know-it’s part of what makes you who you are, this whole thing. And I want to know you.”
Rose blushed a deep scarlet at his final statement, and he smiled softly at her. He was tempted to lean forward, to reach out and capture her hands, but held himself back, unsure if she wanted that just yet.
“Right. Well.” Rose gave a small laugh. “I can’t even figure out where to start now, although I reckon no matter what I’ll not cock it up as badly as I did the first time.”
Peter did lean forward then, taking both of her hands in his. He watched Rose’s gaze drift down, staring intently at their clasped hands as she thought. He took her in, savouring having her there, with him, again. If they could get through this, he thought...
Rose startled him, her eyes meeting his as she began speaking in a soft, confident voice. “I told you the Doctor was your twin.” He reflexively flinched at the statement; Rose paused as she took in his reaction, lightly squeezing his hands as she continued, “I was wrong, y’see? You look alike, but that’s all. You’re...you’re as different as could be. When I first met you, I didn’t see that. But then we started workin’ together. And I kept...trying, so hard, not to be around you, because you looked like him.” Rose’s eyes had once more dropped to their clasped hands. “I was terrible, I know-bein’ cold and standoffish and just trying desperately to avoid you because you looked like him, not wanting to give you a chance in case I started to like you. But then...I saw you an’ Mickey an’ Jake become mates, and I was seein’ you be...well, you.”
Her eyes rose to meet his, and he felt a flash of heat at what he saw there. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as she paused, gazing intently at him. She’d admitted to only seeing the Doctor when she saw him-but only at first. Her simple statement of how she’d watched him, had started to see him and not someone else, nearly took his breath away.
He wasn’t sure if she was expecting him to speak; he was just scrambling for something to say when she continued. “Somewhere along the way, I stopped seein’ him at all when you walked into the room. I...You’re a very distracting man, you know. I couldn’t stop knowing it was you, seein’ you, watchin’ you. You were drivin’ me spare, and I was so intent on...trying to figure out if I was attracted to you, or if I was chasin’ ghosts.”
She squeezed his hands once more, a blush stealing over her cheeks as she continued. “An’ then we went to the warehouse, and all I could think about was...how much I wanted to know what you were like. You, Peter. And somewhere out there-probably right about the time you started spouting off poetry-I realized, properly, that it was you I was seein’, you I was wanting to kiss, an’ I was wishin’ I hadn’t been such a cow at the beginnin’ of this whole thing because there was no way you’d be interested in doin’ that sort of thing with me-”
“Oh, but I was,” he interjected, his voice low. Rose smiled, ducking her head in embarrassment.
“I worked that out. That was...toe curling.” She met his gaze with her statement, her eyes holding a flicker of heat. He tugged lightly on her hands, pulling her towards him; she laughed, pulling back. “Oh no you don’t. Not until I finish this. I don’t want to get distracted, now I’ve started.” She freed one of her hands, reaching up to lightly stroke his cheek.
He felt a tingle run down his spine as she lightly stroked her fingers against his stubble, and he quickly turned to kiss her hand before saying, “Best get on with it. I’m not going to be able to hold back forever.”
Her eyes widened, even as she licked her lips; Peter felt his desire for her blaze briefly before he wrestled it back down.
She brought her hand back down to clasp his before continuing, “And then you took me on the most amazin’ date. And I wanted to tell you, right away. Because you needed to know-you deserved to know. But I was worried about how you’d react, that I’d get hurt...” She dropped her eyes to her lap as she whispered, “that I’d lose any chance with you.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he realized just how difficult it had been for Rose. Would he have told her about Natalie quite so soon, if he’d not already suspected she knew most of the story? “Rose-“
She squeezed his hands, returning her gaze to his face. Her eyes were bright as she once more spoke. “And then I didn’t tell you, and I kept finding reasons -excuses-to push it off. And Mickey kept telling me to tell you-”
Peter couldn’t stifle the sound of disbelief.
Rose grinned. “He did, actually. Every time I came back, he’d ask if I’d told you. And he let me know he did not approve when I didn’t.” She sighed, her grin fading. He felt her begin to pull her hands away, and lightly squeezed them as he looked at her questioningly.
“Arms are gettin’ tired, reaching forward.” Rose’s expression was apologetic.
Peter released her hands, accepting her explanation and trying very hard not to think her change in position was because she felt so exposed. He remained leaning forward, forearms on his thighs, as she continued with her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“And then there was the night at your place.”
“I’d not meant to pressure you, Rose.”
“You didn’t. Well, not really-‘s not like I was fighting very hard, at any rate. That night, though-there...I had decided I needed to tell you about the Doctor before anything else happened. And I wanted...I wanted things to happen. Badly. But I’d not told you, I hadn’t figured out how or when. And dinner that night, and then Saturday in the garden...you had to know, you didn’t have the full picture of what was goin’ on, and it wasn’t right or fair. I’d run out of time, I was missing my opportunities, and I didn’t want to miss any more. “
She huddled back into herself, crossing her arms as she remembered that day. Peter reached out, lightly resting his hand on her knee. “Rose, I wish I’d reacted better. You...” He closed his eyes, trying to work out what to say. “I knew it had been hard for you; you ‘d warned me you had something to share, and I could see you were struggling with something, I knew you were scared that day. And then I-“
“-You reacted exactly as you should. I messed things up with how I told you. I went about it all wrong...” Her voice was thick with regret.
Peter was confused. “You told me the truth-how was that wrong? I’d rather that than some half-truth, sugar coated to the point of my missing the point.” He leaned back, the thought of her overtly lying to him repulsive.
She leaned forward, reaching out for his hands. “No. I was wrong because I was only thinking of me, of what it was going to do to me to tell you. I should have been thinking of you. I was being selfish, and then, when you got quiet, I just...I’ve always been able to deal with yelling. Yelling’s easy-it’s something to react to, y’know? It would have been easier for me to know what to do if you’d yelled. But you didn’t and I didn’t know what to do, and all I could feel was how much I was hurting, not even thinking of what it must be doin’ to you...”
Peter’s head was full of thoughts and emotions, the feelings of that day lurking as he tried to understand what Rose had been through. For all of the talking they’d done on their dates, they’d not come close to the soul-baring that was going on in that room, right at that moment.
Rose straightened, holding his gaze as she said deliberately, “That was the problem. I didn’t think about you at all that day. What I should have told you is that you’re the man I see. When we kiss,”--Rose blushed--“it’s you I’m kissing, your skin I feel, you I taste.”
Peter held his breath, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss Rose senseless.
She faltered briefly, looking slightly lost. Her gaze dropped, and he leaned forward. “Rose. I was hurt by what you told me. Because I don’t want to be some replacement for you.” He ran a hand through his hair.
Rose reached up with her free hand to capture it, ducking her head to meet his eyes. “Peter, you’re not a replacement.” She kissed his hand before enfolding it in her own. “I should have told you, right away, that I didn’t see you that way. When you laugh, when you’re angry, when you’re giving poor Penny a hard time-all of it-I don’t see anyone but you. And that’s what I should have told you-that’s what I should have realized was the important thing to say. And I’m sorry I didn’t, that I instead started making this about me, and not you-us.”
Peter’s heart was racing in his chest; he couldn’t believe what Rose was saying, sitting in front of him. He fought the urge to pinch himself, to see if his subconscious was playing another vicious joke. He fully expected to wake up with his head on the table, Mickey looming threateningly over him. He was speechless.
“And, ah...I shouldn’t have run off to London.” Rose’s tone was wry.
He quirked a smile in response. “I think London was just what we needed. If you’d been around, I’d’ve been so distracted by you that I’d never have straightened my own thoughts out. We’d be staring at each other across the room, sullen silence descending, the rest of the team sitting off to the side with snacks and drinks as they watched the show. Not unlike this morning, really.”
Rose laughed. “I fear we’ve ruined their plans for the evening’s entertainment.”
Peter couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned forward, pulling on Rose’s hands to bring her forward to meet him. She still wore a smile as his lips met hers.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Rose felt nothing but relief as Peter brought her forward for a kiss. He’d been so quiet as she’d spoken, his gaze dark as she’d struggled to tell him even some of what she felt, of what she had learned over the past few days. The brush of his lips against hers put the remainder of her fears to rest, and she savoured the gentle contact.
She finally pulled back, dazedly opening her eyes. Peter’s warm gaze met hers, and she felt a tingle run through her body. If he could do that with just a light kiss and a gaze...
She licked her lips, having one last thing she needed to say to Peter. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
She saw his eyes widen briefly in surprise, before his gaze grew more intense. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you either, Rose. I should have had more faith in you-in the fact that maybe you were actually interested in my charming personality and rapier wit. Even identical twins have different personalities, right?” He gave her a small smile. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me, and we’ll chalk this up to...the joys of getting to know one another. Fair deal?”
Rose felt as though she were getting off lightly, and was about to say so when Peter continued.
“Rose, I don’t know what kind of penance you’re looking for. It’s done, it’s over-it’s in the past. I’d rather we move on, building on this-rather than keep dwelling on it, to the point of being so focused on how you told me, or how I reacted, that we simply can’t see a future together, of any sort.” His voice dropped, his gaze growing heated. “I don’t want us to end before we ever began, Rose. We both made mistakes-can’t we use them to learn and try to move forward?”
She nodded, still not convinced but willing to accept what Peter suggested. “I do want to...to see what’s ahead. To move forward. But...it might take me a little while yet to forgive myself.”
Peter looked at her thoughtfully. “It’s your choice, forgiving yourself-I know I forgive you. But-after a while-remember there’s a point where self-recrimination becomes self-indulgence instead of something productive. Just be careful of that?” His voice was gentle and he paused, dropping his eyes before adding, “I know something about that, and don’t want to see you go through it.”
He met her gaze, vulnerability evident in his eyes; Rose fought the urge to ask him what he was talking about, instead leaning forward to brush a light kiss over his lips. “Done, and sealed with a kiss,” she said, sitting back.
A look of wonderment crossed Peter’s face, before one of those grins she adored appeared.
Her mum’s advice about letting him know what it was she l...iked about him echoed in her mind. Before she could overthink it, she blurted out, “I love it when you smile.”
She felt her skin flush, adrenaline coursing through her system at the admission. Peter’s grin became a genuine smile, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself; leaning forward, he whispered, “Then we’ll just have to make sure I smile more often.” He sat back with a wink, and Rose thought she might just combust.
They stared at each other in silence for a few beats before Peter leaned forward once more. “I don’t suppose you have any requests for dinner? I’ve never really asked, have I?” His smile had faded, but his voice had the warmth in it which she adored-and which she had only ever heard when he was talking with her.
She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts. “I’ve never really thought about it- well, except that one time with the chips. You’ve always done such lovely things, it’s never really occurred to me.” Peter waited patiently as she thought out loud, watching as she tried to work out what she’d like to do for dinner. She laughed lightly. “I guess I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed all of the places and things we’ve done.”
Peter’s lips were curved upwards at the corner, bemusement evident. She paused, and decided she’d best give him at least some direction. “Something low key, I suppose. Not dressy, I couldn’t handle that-not tonight.”
“Low key, got it.” He checked his watch. “Right. I reckon they’re not going to come in here, even under pain of death-so it might be time to go see what we’ve missed this past hour. It’s nearly five, at any rate.”
Rose blinked. “An hour?”
“Oh, very well, I exaggerated. It’s been forty-five minutes,” Peter said, standing. She took the hand he extended, pulling her up to him for a kiss before he took a step back. “If things go to schedule, I’ll meet you at your hotel around seven?”
That would give her roughly an hour-if things followed their usual pattern-to go back, talk with Mickey, and get ready for supper. It would be tight, but she could do it-she would do it. She didn’t want to spend a moment without him that wasn’t strictly necessary.
In fact, if she didn’t think it would be so shockingly unprofessional that she would never stop being teased for it by her team-ever-she would have suggested that they sign off for the day immediately, forget about “getting ready” for the date, and go straight to his house to tear each other’s clothing off.
“Rose?” said Peter. “Does seven work?”
“I suppose,” she said, and heard the wistful regret in her voice. Peter grinned, and she cleared her throat and pulled herself together. “Seven o’clock. Yes. Perfect,” she said, briskly. “Right. Let’s go see how Penny and James are getting on, and let them know it’s safe to use the room for the debrief.”
The rest of the team-all of them-were lurking in the station room. Rose blushed furiously as she and Peter walked in to find the group huddled around Penny’s desk. Jake was grinning like an idiot, Penny wasn’t sure where to look, James looked nonplussed, and Mickey...he gave the DI a very hard stare, what Rose used to call his ‘I’m so tough’ look, back before he had the skill to back up the non-verbal threat. Peter didn’t flinch, and Mickey relaxed his expression, his gaze sliding over to Rose. She smiled, and saw him calm further.
The team were surprisingly quiet-Rose had expected far more teasing as she and Peter re-joined the world outside the room. Instead, despite grinning at the two of them, the group looked tired; she considered that a night off would do everyone a world of good; they needed to be well-rested if they were to stay sharp, to solve the final bits of the case.
They returned en masse to the interrogation room for the debrief, everyone eager to leave for the night. Even behind closed doors, no one commented on what Peter and Rose might have got up to during their time alone; Rose was beginning to worry about her team, when Jake caught her eye and winked, his smile impossible to hide. Her worry changed rapidly to suspicion-they were being far, far too quiet.
The final meeting of the day progressed quickly, each of the team members providing a status report. Four PC’s were still guarding Swinson’s house, and Jacques was sending some of his team north to ‘assist’ in ‘securing’ the location. Ian and his team were conducting a thorough search of the house and the area immediately surrounding it, hoping to find any sort of evidence, but specifically looking for proof that Philippa and/or McGreevy had been there prior to their deaths. The forensics team would partner with Jacques’s staff upon their arrival, to see if any other untoward activity had occurred, and to ensure there were no other unknown associates lurking in the wings.
Jacques was ‘utilising his resources’ to determine if Swinson’s exact location could be determined. He’d also issued a Torchwood-wide alert to be on the lookout for Swinson, and was working with the more traditional intelligence services to see what help they might be able to offer in the manhunt.
Jake had volunteered to be on call that night, ensuring Mickey would be partnered with him; at the close of the report-out, Jake took pains to emphasize that he, Mickey, and James would be joining the DC for drinks at the local before calling it a night. Rose had to stifle a grin as Mickey bristled at Jake’s direction, and made a note to take Jake out for a meal at the end of the case.
She didn’t miss how her team had structured things so there was no central meeting in the morning, either. Jake and Mickey would be reporting directly to the scene, while James and Penny would be with Ian and Gerry, reviewing any further forensics of interest. She and Peter, apparently, would be left to their own devices, the implication being that they’d be working together again to try to refine the interrelationships and the core underpinnings of the case. Or working together on other things, she supposed-if one had a dirty mind. Which she was beginning to realise she most assuredly did where Peter Carlisle was concerned.
The meeting wrapped after a half-hour. While James, Jake, and Penny left quickly, Mickey lingered until she promised to meet up with him in the station room. He left reluctantly, wanting to speak with her, to make sure all was well, but at least his outright hostility appeared to have come to an end.
Peter was taking his time straightening things up for transfer to the evidence locker, and Mickey’s departure left just the two of them in the room. She took advantage of his seeming preoccupation, walking up to him; he surprised her by turning, capturing her in his arms and swooping in for a kiss.
It was brief, but she was still breathless when he released her. He took a step back, and she smiled at his smug expression. “You sneaky devil.”
He grinned at her. “You’ve no idea.” She thought he might give her another kiss, but he instead returned to his task. “Go on with you-you’ve Mickey waiting. I’ll be there at seven. Dress for ‘low key’ dining.”
She leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you then.” She walked around the table and out of the room, headed for a talk with Mickey before getting ready for the first date of her new relationship with Peter.