Title: Refrained
Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Warning(s): Mild innuendos
Summary: She knows he desires her -it's evident in the way she notices him staring at her like he's a wolf eyeing his prey.

Wine as red as blood is sloshed on the white tablecloths as glasses with slender plumes clink together. Drunken laughter reverberates off the walls, piercing those still of sound mind. The band plays a lively orchestrated version of some song topping the charts as various dancers try to keep up with the varying tempo. There's no air conditioning and everyone is blistering hot, but alcohol can make you forget even your biggest problems. It's a cheap soiree trying to pretend it's posh, and yet everyone is fooled. Tomorrow those who didn't attend will wallow in misery and those who did attend will be irked for wasting good lipstick.

His dark eyes are glued to hers, unmoving, for she is all he cares about. He smirks ever so slightly as she winces upon tasting her cheap champagne, but acts as if it's the grandest thing that has passed between her lips. She knows he desires her -it's evident in the way she notices him staring at her like he's a wolf eyeing his prey. He doesn't mean to appear lecherous (the bowtie was supposed to make him appear approachable) but that damn redhead and her husband convinced him to have one or two drinks before coming so he'd act more loose. But it's Rose, wearing a gown that contours to her body while showing off her curves, and beads of perspiration trickle down into places he doesn't dare to think off. How can he not desire to press her up against the wall and make her cry out a name she won't even know for at least another two years? (Rose is intoxicating and he wants to drink her up like this shoddy champagne)

Her poor excuse for a date has probably just been accepted into Eton, and has wild illusions of grandeur. He takes Rose's arm and leads her out onto the balcony; probably what the Doctor thinks is an attempt to recapture the infamous scene from Romeo and Juliet as he proclaims his love and rolls his eyes because he knows his Rose won't be easily won over with such acts of romantic poppycock. Deep down her bones ache for the feeling of freedom and the sensation of not being tied down by anyone and the smell of apple grass –but alas, she just doesn't know it yet. She needs a wakeup call to open her eyes to the possibilities.

So the Doctor takes another swig of his champagne (it's more like three or five or seven large sips but no ones counting) and steps out onto the balcony, sighing lightly as he watches a young girl admiring the glittering jewel now gracing her left hand. Rose senses his presence, and her dark irises look him up and down (she stops at the bowtie and smirks just a bit) and goes back to daydreaming.

"Lovely ring that is. Probably cost him a year's salary," he whistles, staring at the impressive diamond. Her eyes sparkle just a teensy bit more as she realizes he spent a year's salary on this little engagement band because he positively adores her.

"He's wonderful, brilliant, no- perfect even. Such kind eyes and my mum approves. That's all that matters." Rose's tone is dreamy, wistful, that of a teenage girl and not a defender of the universe…at least not for awhile.

"Oh yeah, if your mum approves that's all that matters, quite right. It's best to say yes to the first suitor that comes calling, because let me tell you, that pretty face won't last forever." The blow is pretty low, and he promised he wouldn't be rude anymore, but this is an exception to the rule.

"Yeah, I mean…yeah. Who knows if anyone will actually ask for me again huh? I'm just a shopgirl that eats way too much chips…" She chuckles nervously, and the first few seeds of doubt are sowed and planted and ready for further growth.

"What I'm saying is, why throw your life away now? The world may seem a scary place, and sure you don't know if another man with a reasonable income will come knocking again, but at least you're free to live without restraint. To do whatever the hell you choose. And maybe someday, when you least expect it, you'll find a man that enjoys watching you stuff your face with chips." His words come out much too fast and spirited, and Rose looks at him like he's a madman, (which he is) but a crazy, brilliant madman that speaks the truth. She sucks in a shaky breath, and looks up at the ocean of stars and constellations, which unknowingly, one day she'll visit. Fleeting moments fly by, until Rose turns to him with a smile.

"You're right. You really are. There are so many endless possibilities out there; things other than waking up and going to work at the shop, and trying to find the remote to watch that new Austen adaptation. Somewhere out there, there's a road leading to something much better than this. So I'll keep living, keep experiencing mundane things until that moment comes where things change, and everything becomes…becomes…"

"Fantastic?" He finishes for her.

"Yeah. Fantastic." She sticks her tongue between her teeth and his hearts ache as he realizes just how much he's missed her doing that.

"I better be leaving. I'm starting to feel that champagne." A daft excuse, but he did tell a Miss Pond he'd be back at a reasonable hour. (He'd rather not endure her fiery Scottish wrath if he wasn't back in time)

"It was nice talking to ya. Thanks for really opening my eyes." Rose smiles faintly at him. (The Doctor looks away; he knows that look –she used to look that way at him, with her big brown eyes telling him what she couldn't ever truly say)

"Ah. No problem. It is my life's duty to help teenaged girls." Also entire planets and civilizations and even the Olympics too…

"One more thing," Rose takes him by the arm, and his hearts stop for one incandescent moment as she looks deeply into his eyes, "Nice bowtie," she whispers, straightening the black accessory out. He lightly chuckles, (it wasn't as if he was expecting anything else) and grins.

"You're the first to say that." Of course his Rose would love the bowtie, and find it utterly marvelous. (Because she is marvelous, and it's only natural she'd like something as equally brilliant)

So he leaves behind a girl with a head full of fantasies about her future she only ever allowed herself to dream of while sleeping. That perhaps there's more to life than chips and the latest lip gloss colour or if the new girl in school really is cavorting with the headmaster.

It isn't until hours later that Amy smacks him across the face and tells him he's an idiot for not giving her at least one good kiss. ("Smartest being in the whole universe my arse! Can't even snog the girl he loves.") And yes, he could've very well seduced Miss Tyler with talk of faraway places, the smell of apple grass, and of stone Angels you cannot blink around, but he prefers it this way. Because she needs to save a man with too big of ears, and say goodbye to another on a beach and make him realize he isn't immune to love. Besides, the world isn't ready for a bad wolf and a tweed, bowtie, wearing man with an intense passion for fish fingers and custard to join forces just yet.