A Sky Without Zeppelins (38/?)

[amberfocus]

                                                                                                                       Banner by Mitashade

A/N:  This chapter is dedicated to solarflar3.  May the smuttiness at the end of the chapter help you continue to heal.

                                                                      Chapter Thirty-Eight

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Rose says as she straightens her blouse and pulls up her jeans and zips them closed. Jonathon reaches forward and plucks a flower blossom from her hair.

“I can’t believe you were quiet enough that we didn’t get caught,” Jonathon murmurs back.

“You saying I’m loud?” Rose asks, hands on her hips.

“You’ve been known to get quite vocal,” he says with a cocky grin.

“Don’t think I’m the only one calling out things in bed,” she says trying to pretend she’s annoyed with him and failing miserably, because the excitement of their recent shag is still tingling through her nerve endings.

“Weren’t in bed this time, were we?” he asks.

“No, we weren’t,” she agrees. “What I want to know is just what you were doing with a condom in your pocket? Were you planning on this shocking display of public indecency?”

“You mean seducing you in the park?” he grins cheekily.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

He shrugs. “I figure it’s better to be prepared than not. Seems I wasn’t wrong, now was I?” Again that smug grin graces his face.

She doesn’t deny it, because she can’t. Instead she kisses him and when things start to get heated again he stops her reluctantly. “Only had the one condom, Rose,” he says.

“You think you’re the only one who came prepared?” she asks him with an evil smirk. The look on his face is priceless.

“Rose Tyler, you…you little minx!”

“And don’t you forget it!” She smiles happily at him but makes her way to the edge of the bushes. She has no intention of taking this particular risk again, today anyway, and when she glances over her shoulder she can’t help but giggle at his look of disappointment. She peeks out into the park but there’s no one nearby.

“The coast is clear. You going to take care of that?” she asks him when she turns back gesturing down below his belt. “Your manly bits are hanging out.”

With a blush Jonathon puts himself back together and then the two of them head back out into the park, stopping by a rubbish bin to dispose of the used condom and tissues and then finding a public bathroom to wash up in. As they head towards the Eiffel Tower Jonathon murmurs something about wondering if there’s some kind of mile high club for having sex on the tower itself and it is Rose’s turn to blush.

“I’m not doing it on the Eiffel Tower,” she tells him quite firmly. “We get caught there and it’s more than just a slap on the wrist,” she says. “I don’t want to get thrown in a Parisian prison just because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I can’t keep it in my pants?” he begins with put on indignation.

“Glad you agree, then,” she giggles and his pretended huff fades to nothing in the face of her smile.

“I seem to recall you pulling it out of my pants,” he reminds her.

“Okay, so maybe I can’t keep it in your pants,” she laughingly admits. “Or maybe it just wants to roam free.”

“I love you,” he says with serious intensity.

The giggles fade away and she gives him a steady look before moving back to his arms and hugging him tightly. “I don’t think you have any idea, do you, Jonathon, of just how much you’ve changed my life? I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love anybody.” His arms tighten around her and she rests her head against his shoulder.

“I do understand it, Rose,” he murmurs. “I do. It’s the same for me. Exactly the same.” They stand there for a long moment just holding each other before finally breaking apart. Jonathon picks up her hand and laces his fingers through hers and the two of them step out from the thick copse of trees and bushes and back into daylight, no one the wiser for their secret tryst.



The tower is an amazing structure, a feat of engineering that leaves Jonathon in awe of the mind that designed it. Although he has been to Paris before, he has no clear memory of climbing the Eiffel Tower itself. He’s sure he must have done, but that’s one memory in his mind that is dark, shrouded in the mystery of his past, the partial amnesia that makes it so hard to remember old moments in the present.

He purchases tickets for the stairs, Rose insisting that using the elevators is cheating. He’s not so sure she’ll feel that way after climbing up and then facing the prospect of climbing back down again, but this is her birthday trip and he’s come to the conclusion that he’ll do just about anything to please her. Besides, with the surprise he has planned for later in the evening, a few aching muscles will probably be a good thing.

With the enthusiasm of youth Rose bounds up the stairs and he finds himself easily following her. He’s proud of himself for being able to keep up with a woman more than a decade his junior. Rose ignores the entryway to the first level and keeps on going upwards, driving on until they reach the top, both very much out of breath and gasping.

As he catches his breath he watches Rose while she takes in the view of the city below them. Her face is a thing of beauty as amazement spreads across it. He comes up behind her and encircles her waist with his arms. She leans back into him and rests her hands on top of his, her thumb stroking the webbing of his left hand. “It’s beautiful,” she tells him. She cranes her neck around until she can place a kiss upon his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here. To Paris, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs. Her head turns back and she stares enrapt at the city again. He has to admit it’s one of the most spectacular sights he’s seen, or at least that he remembers he’s seen. The Champs de Mars stretches out before them like a long arm of green pointing to the city proper. The Seine, littered with boats, runs along one side. The city swallows both eventually, the buildings imposing their presence on the natural world.





When they are done looking their fill at the view the structure offers, they turn their attention to the tower itself. Rose pulls him along so they can look at the representation of Gustave Eiffel’s office and the wax figures within. They are surprisingly lifelike, much less waxy than either of them is expecting and Rose mutters, “It looks like they could just stand up and walk out onto the platform at any moment.”

“Let’s hope not,” Jonathon replies. He shudders slightly, the idea of humanoid but not living creatures walking around giving him a strong feeling of unease and the sudden desire to grab Rose’s hand and ask her to run. Which is odd since he’s already holding her hand. He tightens his fingers around hers and pulls her along. “More to see below,” he offers at her puzzled look.

She smiles and they descend to the second floor and poke around the little souvenir shop. Jonathon buys Rose a snow globe of the tower and offers it to her a little shyly. “I know it’s a bit of a cliché,” he says.

“No,” she says. “It’s perfect.” She shakes it and little sparkles of glitter shimmer around the tower in the little ball. She kisses him and his arms wrap about her waist to pull her closer. They break apart only at a pointed cough and the giggling of a group of teenage girls wanting to go into the gift shop. Their scandalized chaperone is giving them a disapproving look.

They laugh but move along, exploring the rest of the level and finding a small cafeteria, a larger restaurant, and some animated windows that explain the history of the tower, its construction, and random facts about the tower’s lifts. Rose giggles when she finds an internet station tucked into an alcove. She pulls Jonathon over.

“Look, it says we can send an email to someone from here,” she says. “Anyone you want to buzz?”

“Don’t know anyone really. Just you and Donna.”

“Let’s do Donna then. Do you know her addy?” Rose asks.

Jonathon reels it off and Rose types it into the little box. She quickly composes a “wish you were here” message and zings it off into cyberspace. “Not that I really wish she was here. Though sightseeing with her might be sort of fun…”

Rose enters in a second message and sends it off. “Who was that to?” he asks curiously.

“Keisha. You met her once. The waitress from the diner at Temmel’s,” Rose tells him.

“Your best friend,” he says.

Rose smiles. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me,” he says softly. And it’s true. There’s a huge repository of information in his head where he’s catalogued everything about his girlfriend. He’s been rather adamant about not forgetting anything about Rose when he’s already lost so many memories from the life that came before her.

Rose doesn’t reply to that, instead glancing over at a railing in the middle of the room that encircles glass set into the floor. “What’s that?” she asks moving towards it. He follows her over and they look over the railing. A strong sense of vertigo washes over him as he looks straight down the center of the tower to the ground.

Rose steps back quickly from the railing. “That’s a bit…”

“Yeah.” In unspoken agreement they don’t look down again and head for the stairs where they descend to the first floor of the tower. This level is vast and there are many, many things to explore.

Jonathon is fascinated by the old hydraulic pump on display that had once been used to pump water for the tower's old lifts and act as ballast in the raising and lowering of the cages. Those lifts are gone, long since replaced by more modern equipment, but the remnants remain. Rose wanders over to an old chunk of the spiral staircase that has been obsolete for decades while Jonathon examines it.

They both geek out a bit over the FerOscope and wait their turns to enter the transparent bubble and put on their video glasses and watch the show that describes the technical means used to build the tower itself, then wander over to watch the special laser beam hooked up to a monitor that shows the effect of wind and temperature in real time of the top of the tower’s movements.



After a while they wander into the room that displays information about the exhibits that have been hosted at the tower and then into the little cinema showing more on the tower's history. Eventually they end up in the restaurant Altitude 95, but after perusing the menu find nothing that really appeals to them so they decide to move on.

They are both tired and beginning to feel the ache in their calves and thigh muscles from all the stair climbing. “Shall we call it a day?” he asks Rose and she smiles at him gratefully.

“Yeah. It’s been amazing, but I think I’d just as soon go back to the hotel and order in, maybe take another long soak together,” she tells him.

“I’ve got another surprise planned for you but it won’t require leaving the room,” he informs her.

“You’ve already done so much,” Rose begins but then she stops herself and hugs him. “Thank you.”

Jonathon calls for Lumin’s driver and twenty minutes later they are on their way back to the hotel. Once there they order room service, coq au vin for Rose and Beouf Bourguignon for Jonathon. They finish off the bottle of champagne from the night before and Rose is nicely relaxing over one of the more sinful chocolates they’d bought earlier in the day when there is a knock on the door.

With a quick grin he bounds to his feet and lets in two women who are carrying some bulky equipment with them. “What’s all this?” Rose asks as the pair begin unfolding what turns out to be two massage tables.

“I thought after all that climbing today we’d need the ache rubbed out of our muscles. The hotel offers side by side massages for couples,” he explains.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful right now,” Rose says. “I’ve never had a massage before.”

The two women excuse themselves to the other room while they remove their clothing and slip underneath the sheets. Jonathon relaxes under the relaxing touch of Collette, his face turned towards Rose. Her eyes are closed and she is making little sounds of pleasure as Mimi works her tired muscles. Happy that his surprise is going over so well he shuts his eyes and lets his mind wander away into emptiness.



Rose sighs as she slips into her dressing gown after the massage is finished. Jonathon sees the two women out and then turns back to her with a slightly bemused expression on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asks her.

She yawns and stretches like a cat, fully aware of the fact that his eyes are following the arch of her body. “Bit like after sex,” she says coyly. “Thoroughly sated.”

He closes the gap between their bodies, stopping a foot from her but not touching her. “Fully sated?” he inquires his voice slipping into a lower register and firing a wave of lust through her body.

“Why?” she asks huskily. “Did you have something in mind for further satiation?”

“Rose Tyler, you should know by now, I always have something in mind for further satiation,” he informs her.

She smiles at him. “Care to show me?” she asks.

“Mmm hmm,” he says, his hand reaching out and picking up one end of her belt. He pulls it slowly and both sets of eyes watch it as the bow slowly unravels. He loosens it further and her dressing gown opens, the silk flowing backwards with the help of his fingers. “Come to bed,” he says in a gravelly voice.

Her hand grasps his and she follows him into the bedroom. He pushes the robe from her shoulders and it pools at her feet, a soft ivory puddle. She reaches out in turn and unties the belt around the terry hotel gown he’s used to cover himself and she smiles as he shrugs it off. He’s fully erect and she wonders, not for the first time, how it’s possible for a man of his age to have such a quick recovery time. Everything she’s read about sex says a man of his age ought to be slowing down, but instead he’s as randy as a teenager. Not that she minds. Not that she’ll ever complain.

Rose links her hands behind his neck and pulls him close, their bodies meeting, the warmth of him pushing into her, the hard planes matching up well to her soft curves. She melts into him and raises her lips to be kissed. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, caressing gently against her tongue as his hands stroke down her body and settle on her bum, pulling her even tighter against him. His erection is firm against her belly and as he twirls his tongue about hers her womb twinges and her body prepares itself with a noticeable let down of lubrication.

She pushes him backwards until his legs hit the bed and he lets himself fall onto it. He scrambles further up onto the bed and she lowers herself onto the surface, crawling up his body and settling on top of him just behind his erection. Rose leans forward and kisses his eyelids, his nose, his lips, the pulse in his throat. She settles on his Adam’s apple, her tongue laving over the projection. She feels it bob in her mouth as he gulps and his pelvis bucks upwards in an involuntary urge to be inside her.

Rose kisses her way down his chest stopping just over his heart and then using the ends of her hair to tickle his chest. He sucks in his breath as the strands sweep across his stomach and then as she eases herself backwards across his erection. He lets out a hiss as she kisses the tip of his penis, then moves further down laying kisses across his thighs. “Rose,” he says and she looks at him from under heavy lids.

“Yes?” she asks him innocently.

“I want you, Rose. I want to be inside you.” His voice is deeply accented and his eyes are glazed with his desire. She smiles and kisses her way back up his body before rolling a condom onto his penis and gently placing him at her opening. She slides down upon him in one smooth motion.

He lets out a long, “Ooooooh,” sound on a shudder, making the word three syllables long. His hands stroke from her waist to her thighs and back up again and he looks at her expectantly. It’s obvious that he’s enjoying her taking the lead. Rose begins to rock softly against him, aligning their bodies so that each motion strokes just right against her clitoris. He moans at the sensation of their gentle friction. She rides him slowly until she comes and his eyes never leave her face.

When she comes to a shuddering halt he rolls them over gently and begins the search for his own orgasm, sliding slowly but deeply into and out of her body. He acts like he has all the time in the world, like this slow build up has no urgency for him, but she can see on his face that it does. She knows he’s holding back because he wants her to come again, come with him, and she’s not sure she can rise again so soon.

He pulls her closer to him and his mouth seeks out hers again. He kisses her deeply and she feels that familiar fire roiling through her groin. She’d forgotten about his ability to bring her near to the brink with just the right possessive type of kiss. She responds almost savagely to his kiss, taking his mouth as possessively as he’d just taken hers. His movements speed up, her actions making him lose control.

He thrusts into her wildly now and she buries her hands in his hair, holding his head in place while she snogs the daylights out of him. Each plunge is harder, faster than the one before it and she tries to hold the kiss for as long as possible but she has to tear away from it, take a breath as he pounds into her body. She bucks desperately upwards, receiving him with each movement. “Love you, love you,” she moans as the orgasm rips through her body, clenching her muscles tightly around him.

He cries out and lets go, coming violently within her. It wracks his body and he jerks and spasms for longer than usual before he finally collapses on top of her. She wraps her arms and legs tightly around him. He kisses her lips and then moves to pull away. She makes a sound of discontent but she lets him go, knowing he needs to attend to the condom and clean himself up.

When he stands up he holds out his hand. “Care to take a shower with me?” he asks.

Rose smiles. “Can’t think of anything I’d like more.” She follows him into the bathroom and when the water is running and warm they step into it together. With slow, thorough hands they wash each other, and layer kisses on clean bits of skin. They are both too tired to make love again, but that doesn’t stop them from enjoying the light caresses of fingers on flesh.

When they finally step out and dry off they dress reluctantly in clothes and begin packing up their possessions. An hour later their driver arrives and they are on their way back to London.

“Thank you,” Rose whispers to him in the back seat of the limousine. “I’ve had the best time.”

“Me, too,” he says softly and kisses her. “I hate for it to end.”

“We have so many years ahead of us to take trips together,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He crinkles his brow and hesitates before finally asking her, “How long are you going to stay with me?”

The answer comes to her lips as if it has been written in the stars. “Forever.” And the look she turns on him can leave him with no doubt that she means what she says. She loves this man. She’s made her choice. And she’s never going to leave him.

Ch. 39:  http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/231313.html 

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