amberfocus | A Sky Without Zeppelins: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

His lips find hers and their kiss is not tender, is not subtle or understated. It is desperate, full of fire and passion and possession and it burns through them in one frightening burst of power. Light pushes away darkness and flows through them in radiating circles of energy and everything glows white hot and brilliant. Nerve endings fire and an unfamiliar desire races through his being. He is scared, unaccountably scared that he will lose her, even as he pulls the energy from her body. He is willing to risk everything, give up his own life, if only she will live. Then she is collapsing against him and he catches her barely in time, lowers her to the floor. “All that is, all that was, all that ever could be.”

Jonathon sits up in bed with a gasp, his heart racing in his chest as the words echo in his head. He can still taste her against his tongue, still feel his bruising of her on his lips and he is left cold and shaking. Slowly the dream dissolves away into nothing, the words fade, and his fingers let go of the bedding he has fisted in the throes of his…dream? Nightmare? He glances over at the clock.

It is early yet at six a.m., but late enough that it’s doubtful he’ll return to sleep. Still, he pads to the kitchen and drinks a glass of milk, hoping the tryptophan in it is enough to ease him back into dreamland for another hour and a half before he must be up to get ready for work. He’s still tired; he doesn’t remember being so tired on a daily basis as he has been since moving to London. Perhaps it’s the city itself that tires him out.

He visits the loo then returns to bed, sliding back under the covers and giving out a frightful yawn. Closing his eyes he sees an image of Rose smiling at him. He imagines her beside him in the bed, burrowing against his side, her arm wrapping about his waist possessively, her warmth soothing and relaxing and he manages to drift off again, waking in surprise at the blaring of the alarm at 7:30. He stumbles to the shower and invokes Rose’s image again as he takes himself in hand without guilt or hesitation, as he has done for the past few mornings since he made his intentions clear to her and she didn’t back away.

It is a decidedly pleasant way to waken fully, even if it does leave him leaning heavily against the shower wall for support for several minutes afterwards. His body is eager for the day when this will be more than his imagination, more than just his own hand bringing him to completion. He finishes his shower and dries and dresses quickly.

As he makes himself a light breakfast, even he can’t destroy scrambled eggs and toast too badly, he thinks of the past two days where he’s barely had a chance to see Rose at all. Just two stolen half hour dinner breaks at her job. He’d felt rather foolish making her eat her meal one handed, but he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of not holding her hand every single minute that they had together. And she hadn’t complained, except to make him switch to her left hand so that she could eat properly with her right one.

Tuesday could not have come soon enough for him and now that it is here, he’ll have to struggle through his work day with nothing on his mind but the fact that when the day is done he’ll get to spend several hours with her. He wishes desperately that they might be hours alone with her, that he could just whisk her up to his flat and keep her all to himself, but without the sofa having been delivered yet and without a telly, he can’t even suggest they stay in and watch a movie.

And anyway, Rose wants to do dinner and dancing. He’d been a little bit shy of the idea at first. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to dance with Rose, the thought of holding her and gyrating to today’s music is incredibly enticing. He is even good at dancing, a quick study who picks up rhythms very well. It is just…he hasn’t been dancing since…well, since before he’d lost Elisabeth. He hadn’t done a lot of things since losing Beth.

He swallows hard against the memory, pushes it back, but not quite as fiercely as he normally has to. He realizes that the shadowy memory does not hurt as badly as the last time he’d thought about her on that park bench just a few days ago. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. He doesn’t want to hurt forever, but it feels somehow…disloyal not to feel her loss without the same amount of hurt every time. Rose will never replace Beth, never replace what he’s lost, but with her he is finding it perhaps just a bit too easy to move on.

He shakes his head angrily. He shouldn’t have any guilt about moving on with Rose. His wife has been dead for ten years. She would never have wanted him to stand still like he has for so long. She would have wanted him to find someone, to be happy, to move on. And now he has done, he’s finally found someone he can move on with. The rest of his life started the day he met Rose and he is going to get on with it.

“Hey, space man, you all right?” Jonathon focuses his attention on the looming form of Donna Noble. She is waving her hand in front of his face again. When she has his attention she continues. “I’ve never seen someone with as bad a tendency to wander off into his own mind and get lost as you have.”

“Did you want something, Donna?” he asks his attention only half on his office manager.

“I’m off to Lombardi’s again for lunch. Did you want me to bring you back something again? The special?” she asks.

“Their specials can be a bit dodgy,” he says. “I don’t suppose you have a take away menu from there?”

“Sorry, no,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’ve always treated Lombardi’s as a take what you get place. Always something good there.”

“Doesn’t really seem to have a standard cuisine,” he says thinking of the variety of take away she’d brought back to him the previous week. “Just what exactly is their specialty?”

Donna frowns. “Don’t think they actually have one. It’s a bit of a hodgepodge really. I can bring you back the special today and snag a take away menu while I’m there.”

He sighs. “Do you mind a bit of company for lunch?” he asks her.

“This isn’t you hitting on me, is it?” she asks with narrowed eyes. “Because I won’t stand for that sort of nonsense. I don’t do skinny bits of nothing, especially at work.”

“No, this isn’t me hitting on you,” he reassures her with a half smile.

“Why not?” she asks sounding slightly offended.

He laughs. “Because you’re too good of an office manager to mess about with no matter how pretty you are,” he tells her. She preens. “And anyway, I have a…” He trails off. He’d been about to say girlfriend, but is that even what Rose is? Perhaps not yet. “I have Rose,” he continues.

“Well, come on then,” she says. “Let’s go to lunch and you can tell me all about your Rose.”

Rose sighs and puts down her little soldering iron. Her neck is sore and her eyes are tired from all her close work, but she’s finally finished assembling the body of her robot cat, which she has taken to calling Kit-10 if only in her head. She knows it’s a silly play on words, since she’s going to be installing a tenth generation Lumin thinking chip as the robot’s brain. Even if she is going to make one or two modifications to it that might make it closer to an eleventh generation prototype. Well, maybe somewhere in between. Upgrade 10.5 or something like that. But Kit-10.5 sounds silly.

She’s just grateful Lumin chips allow for open source tinkering. She glances up at the clock and realizes that class is almost over for the day. She begins the cleanup of her lab station and locks the chassis of her creation up in her storage locker along with her tools and supplies.

She rubs the back of her neck as she leaves for the day, heading to the bus stop and her commute home. In just a few more hours she will be seeing Jonathon and putting the life of a student behind her until the next day. She hopes there will be enough time for a quick nap. She’s exhausted. She’d woken in the middle of the night with the most erotic dream she’d ever had in her life. A dream about Jonathon that had been so real that she fancied she could still feel him inside her when she woke.

Rose had tossed and turned for two hours before she’d managed to get back to sleep for an additional three and even then it had been restless sleep and she’d woken up aching to feel his lips on her skin. Even a cold morning shower had failed to remove the heat from her body that had continued to flush through her every time the handsome man wandered into her thoughts. One of her classmates had even asked her how she’d managed to get sunburned she was blushing so continuously at thoughts of her future lover.

Rose sighs as she boards the bus. Yes, there is no doubt in her head that they are going to become lovers. Jonathon’s words on that score the other night had left no room for doubt as to his intentions towards her and if she is honest with herself, she’s been wanting him that way almost from the moment they had met, though it had been background noise until the first time he’d picked up her hand and danced his fingers across the palm of her hand in his opening salvo of seduction.

She closes her hand tightly against the remembered sensation. She swallows hard and looks out the window, remembering his hug, remembering the way his arousal had felt against her body, the way his arms had felt wrapped around her. It is going to take an enormous effort of will not to leap directly into bed with this man. She doesn’t want that. Well, she does want it, but she isn’t going to do it. Not now. Not yet.

Despite feeling like she’s known this man for years, it has only been nine days since he’d wandered into her life. There is still so much she doesn’t know about him. Where he’d gone to school for example. Where he’d grown up. Where he’d been born, though she was guessing Scotland on that and the former question, based on his accent. Likely near, but not in Glasgow, for his accent isn’t quite right for that, is a little more regional; possibly Paisley like Professor Cullen or Dumbarton like Georgie Mackenzie. He sounds a lot like Georgie, come to think of it.

Rose is so lost in thought that she almost misses her stop. “Rose!” calls out the bus driver and she startles.

“What?”

“It’s your stop, Rose. You getting off here today or what?” Greta asks.

“Oh, thanks, Greta,” Rose says standing up and moving the few steps to the door. “Mind was a million miles away.”

“Go on now, shoo,” Greta tells her waving her off the bus. She hurries down the steps and waits on the bench for the next one trying to keep her mind clear so that she doesn’t miss getting on to it. When it arrives she greets Will with a warm smile and settles into a seat near the front.

When she finally gets home she crashes into bed making sure to set her alarm first. The last thing she wants is to stand up Jonathon, and then she is out cold within minutes.

“Rose? Rose? Wake up, Rose.” Rose stumbles from sleep blinking blearily up at her mother.

“What is it?” she mumbles groggily.

“Honestly, the alarm was blaring for five minutes, sweetheart. If you’re that tired you don’t hear it, perhaps you should cancel your plans for the evening,” Jackie Tyler suggests.

Rose sits up abruptly. “No,” she says. “I’m awake. And I’m not missing this date for anything.” She throws back the covers and her mother steps away from the bed so Rose can get up.

“You ever going to tell me any more about this man of yours?” Jackie asks a trifle wistfully.

“There’s not much to tell yet,” Rose replies non-committally. “I’ve only known him for nine days.”

“Seven of which you’ve seen him on,” interrupts Jackie.

“Yeah, but this is our first date,” Rose says. “It’s not quite the same thing as just, you know, meeting up with him. And I think I’ve already talked your ear off about him the last two days.”

“Well, just make sure you have condoms in your purse,” she tells her daughter.

“Mum, I have no intention of sleeping with him this soon!” Rose says aghast.

“And I had no intention of sleeping with your father on our first date, either, sweetheart, but sometimes these things happen. Sometimes things like you happen,” she replies. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade you for the world, but it might have been a bit easier for me and your dad if we’d had a condom to go with our hormones and gotten pregnant with you after we’d been together a few months.”

“I’m not you,” Rose says in a carefully neutral, non-judgmental tone. “And it was different for you, anyway. You grew up thinking about finding a husband, having babies, living that life. But ever since Dad died, you’ve been pushing for me to want more than that. You’ve told me day after day that my education has to come first, has to take precedence so that I don’t have to struggle day in and day out like you did before I started working. And I believed you. I took it to heart. I’m not going to throw away the last four years and mess up everything I’ve worked for. Not even for him.”

“Exactly. So take a condom with you. There are some new ones in the medicine cabinet if you want to borrow one. Howard brought over a fresh box last time he was here,” Jackie says.

“Mum, I so did not need to know that! And I’m not taking one of your condoms. That’s just…icky.” She wrinkles her nose. “Besides, they gave me some at student health.”

“You went to student health?” Jackie asks in surprise.

“Yeah. Had all the tests done, even though it’s been years since Jimmy, I wanted to be sure. I never really believed him when he said he’d never done it before. Just to put my mind at ease,” Rose admits.

“And you got pills?” her mother asks.

“Yeah. Can’t start them yet, but I got them,” Rose says.

“So you are thinking about him that way.”

“In the future, yeah. Not now. Not at least until after I graduate. I don’t…I don’t want that distracting me from working on my kitty. I need to focus. And sex, well from everything you’ve told me, sex blurs all the boundaries between men and women,” Rose tells her. “Blurred enough when I was stupid with Jimmy.” She sighs. “I’ll be careful when I decide to sleep with him, but I’m not sleeping with him now.”

“But you’re already planning to,” responds Jackie.

“I think it’s probably inevitable. I really like him, Mum. And he really likes me, too. He’s not like…not like anyone I’ve ever met in my life. He’s better than that. I can’t explain it, but I know that I want it. That I want him. But not at the risk of losing my future,” she tells her.

Jackie sighs and reaches out, pulling Rose into her arms and giving her a hug. She plants a kiss on her daughter’s cheek and then says, “You best start getting ready.” She leaves Rose alone. Rose goes to shower and begins getting ready. She blow dries her hair until it is only slightly damp then allows it to finish drying naturally, allowing the wave in her hair to spring up and cause a slightly curly look.

She puts on the dress she has planned on wearing since he first asked her out on this date. It is Venetian red and sleeveless with a high collar that fastens about her neck with a simple clasp. It’s almost backless, with a simple strap that runs just beneath her shoulder blades supporting the built-in bra of the dress, and fitting the upper part quite closely to her frame. The skirt part is not overly clingy, but it is fair to say it lightly hugs her hips. It falls to just above her knees.

It is sexy without putting everything on display and allows for a fair amount of skin contact should Jonathon hold her closely while they dance. She throws a lightweight white cardigan over the outfit. She’ll wear it while dining, but it will come off for dancing. She turns to the mirror, puts on a light layer of fresh makeup and then twists up a portion of her hair, leaving tendrils of bangs and a few loose curls at the sides of her face. She slips into a pair of two inch red heels that are more or less comfortable for dancing, as comfortable as any heels can be for dancing.

When she emerges from her room her mother takes one look at her and says, “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mum,” she says.

The doorbell rings and Rose’s heart jumps up into her throat. “Well, go on,” says Jackie, but Rose is frozen to the spot. Jackie moves to the door and opens it.

“Oh, hello,” Rose hears Jonathon’s voice coming from the doorway. “I’m looking for Rose Tyler.”

“You have the right place. I’m her mum. My name’s Jackie and you’ll be Jonathon. I’ve heard all about you. Rose has talked pretty much non-stop about you for the last three days.”

“Only the last three days?” Jonathon asks with put on disappointment in his voice and they laugh.

“Rose, are you coming?” Jackie calls and Rose finally manages to uproot herself and heads to the entryway.

“Yes. Night, Mum. I’ll be back late, I imagine,” she says.

“Just remember you have classes in the morning,” her mother reminds her.

“I know.” She leans down and kisses her mother’s cheek.

“Have fun.”

They say their good-byes and Jonathon takes her hand as the door closes behind her. They walk down the steps, Rose using both the hand rail and slipping her hand from his, Jonathon’s arm, to navigate the stairs. Once on the ground, she slips her hand back into his and their fingers thread together.

A sharp whistle from across the way rings out. “Well, look at you, Rose Tyler. You sure do clean up well.”

It’s her best friend Keisha and Mickey Smith. Rose isn’t sure which one of them whistled at her, but she laughs regardless as the pair walks up to them. “Keisha, you remember my…Jonathon, don’t you?” Rose asks. “And this is Mickey, her fiancé.”

The two men shake hands and Keisha turns to Rose. “So, big date, then?” she asks.

Rose blushes. “Yeah.”

“Well, we won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi.”

The couples part ways a moment later and Jonathon says, “My car is a few blocks away. I couldn’t find parking any closer.”

“If your car is as nice as the rest of the things you own, I don’t think you’d have wanted to park it any closer anyway,” she admits ruefully. “Not if you wanted all the parts, or quite possibly the whole car, to still be there when you got back.”

“Ah,” said Jonathon. “Well, there’s a multi-story car park not too far from here. They have an attendant, so I’m sure it’s safe there.”

Their small talk is a little bit stilted and Rose is feeling unaccountably nervous again, the butterflies racing through her stomach. They finally enter the car park and take the little lift up to the third floor. She’s grateful she doesn’t have to navigate stairs again in her heels. The shoes are fine for walking, but the fewer steps in her way the better.

They step out into the half-light of the floor and he leads her over to his car. “Is this yours?” she asks as he escorts her to the passenger side.

“It’s an Illuminate car. One of the perks of my position is I can borrow a car whenever I need one.”

Rose strokes her hand over the blue metallic paint. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he says.

Rose blushes, looks down at her feet and then back up into his eyes. “Thank you,” she says. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.”

He grins at her and reaches for her other hand and pulls her into a hug. “Relax, Rose,” he whispers in her ear. “It’s me. Just because it’s a real date this time, doesn’t mean you can’t just be yourself with me.” His breath is hot against her neck and it’s making it utterly impossible to follow his request to relax.

Her arms creep around him and she leans against him for a long moment. “Easier said then done,” she finally says. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” She pulls back from him a little and meets his eyes.

“Maybe you’re just worried about how this night is going to end?” he says.

“A bit, yeah.”

“Then what do you say we skip the part where we fret the entire evening over what’s going to happen next and I just kiss you now?” he asks boldly.

“Okay,” she says and before she even realizes what she’s agreed to his lips have met with hers and he’s kissing her softly. If she’d thought she had butterflies before she now has a hummingbird flitting about in her stomach. When he gently sucks her lower lip into his mouth she has to tighten her grip on him. When did she start clutching his shirt? When he releases her lip, he brushes his tongue against the length of it, requesting permission into her mouth. She opens for him without thought and the hummingbird in her stomach does a somersault as his tongue glides in against hers.

He explores her mouth languidly, discovering every hidden corner, gliding across the roof of her mouth and even under her tongue. She jerks in response to his actions, her hips involuntarily pushing against his. Her hands move of their own accord to his hair and sink into the thick brown locks and his hands slide to her waist, up her ribcage and settle just beneath her breasts before sliding around under her cardigan to her back. His hands stroke the skin he finds there and she moans into his mouth.

It is the sound of her moan echoing in the car park that brings her to her senses and she pulls away from him, her fingers reluctant to leave his head. His breathing is labored and he is slow to open his eyes, blinking a little uncertainly before focusing his gaze on her face. He reaches out and clears a smudge of her lip gloss from the outer edge of her lip with his thumb and it takes everything she has not to capture it and suck it into her mouth. Her breathing is still a little ragged as she looks at him. She returns the favor, wiping her gloss from his mouth and then she smiles softly.

“Do you think,” she asks him, “it’ll even be worth it for me to reapply my gloss, or shall I just leave it off?”

“If I were you, Rose Tyler, I’d just leave it off.” His voice is dark and full of desire and she shifts her thighs slightly at the sound of it. He moves quickly then and opens the car door for her, gesturing her to get in and she does. He runs around the car and climbs in then turns to her one more time. “Because,” he says staring at her intently, “I intend to kiss you like that again tonight, as often as you’ll let me.”

Her breath hitches in her chest. She already knows it will be far more often than she’s planned.

Ch. 9: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/125639.html