Author's Note: Here's another one of my missing scene stories. Not entirely necessary to read the rest of the series, but it would probably make more sense if you did.

Time Frame: Set at the very end of 'Fear Her'. Fifth in the 'Incompatible' series.

Summary: He can feel it as the last shreds of resistance finally slide away and she relaxes completely into him. He breaks away then, drinking in the sight of her. He likes this look- Rose, thoroughly snogged. "Might I suggest," she says around his lips, "we move this to the TARDIS?"


A Storm's Coming

She's scared. He knows she is. He knows that she still hears the echo of her impending doom whispering in the back of her mind.

But she doesn't talk about it and neither does he. They ignore it, run around it and push past the possibility that it just might be the truth. He knows that they shouldn't; he knows that the words of Satan or the Devil or whatever it was have become the giant elephant wandering around his TARDIS, one he really wishes would leave.

And yet he doesn't want to talk about it. He wants to run, to run and hide and stay safe. So that's what they do. That's why he brings her to the 2012 Olympics where nothing can possibly go wrong.

Until it does. And once again they must fulfil their roles as saviours of the Earth- of which they did a damn good job, if he may say so himself. He likes to think that the fireworks are their own personal reward, or at least something of a pat on the back.

He wants to simply stay there and enjoy them, but it seeps out again. The words. That gnawing fear that forever is such a short time. He really wishes that she wouldn't have mentioned it; that her words wouldn't have pushed forward that wayward feeling he's been tucking in the back of his mind for months. It takes hold of him, bursting alive inside his mind like a neon sign glowing over a nightclub.

"A storm's coming."

He wishes, the moment the words formed on his tongue, that he hadn't said them. He wishes that his confusion had never given her the opportunity to hear his most burdensome fear.

So he pulls her away from the street and the gathering of people and finds a vacant plot of grass for them to lay down on. They simply watch, keeping quiet except to comment on a particularly high firework or loud bang or cool design, letting their reward wash over them and his words drip away.

The serenity ends, as it always does, when the finale of booms shatter the stillness of the night air and Rose, after blinking away the light, shifts closer to be level with his eyes. He sees it all then, all the things running through her mind- all the questions and comments and ideas and thoughts. He doesn't want to deal with them. Not tonight. Tonight is about them. Not the future. Not the past. Just them, there and now.


He kisses her, swallowing away the rest of her words. She resists him at first, not wanting to be ignored or interrupted. But he's persistent, using his lips and tongue and teeth to convince her to forget her thoughts for now. She melts into him, her lips moving against his as she pulls him closer to her.

He loves the taste of her, the delicious flavour coating her tongue and teeth. He loves the feel of her hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers.

He can feel it as the last shreds of resistance finally slide away and she relaxes completely into him. He breaks away then, drinking in the sight of her. Her eyes are hooded, her lips are swollen, her breath is haggard. He likes this look- Rose, thoroughly snogged.

"Might I suggest," she says around his lips, "we move this to the TARDIS?"

"Hmm? Why?" She pushes back on his chest, her glare all he needs to rethink her request. It hits him suddenly and he hopes she can't see his cheeks reddening in the dim light. "Oh, right. Yeah, definitely."

He helps her up, grabbing her hands and yanking her off the ground. She helps him with his coat, which they had been using to lay on, before her arms wrap through his and she pulls him towards where they've parked the TARDIS.

She kisses him when his fingers finally snag the keys from his pocket. She's playing with his hair and sucking on his bottom lip and completely blocking any view of the lock he might have had. She helps him when she tires of standing outside by dragging her hand along his arm and grasping his hand, steadying it and helping him to find the lock.

After a few failed attempts, he manages to push the door open. They tumble inside, still kissing, still holding to each other. He kicks the door closed behind them, ignoring the hum of displeasure from the TARDIS as Rose's hands fight to push his overcoat and jacket off his shoulders.

Then he finds something he's never noticed before. Right below her ribs, slightly off to the side, she's ticklish.

"Stop it!" She tries to bat away his hands but he keeps attacking her. She shrieks, breaking away from him and stumbling further into the TARDIS. She runs to the other side of the console, dodging left then right as he tries to catch her. She's panting between her fits of giggles and the bursts of laughter that bubble past her lips every time he nearly catches her.

He doesn't catch her until he manages to sprint all the way around the console and grab her around her waist before she makes it through the door. She's laughing too hard and she feels like she might faint from lack of oxygen and suddenly he's kissing her, taking away whatever breath she had left.

He pulls away, smirking, "Didn't know you were ticklish."

"Only a little."


"You better not," she warns, seeing the growing mischief in his eyes.

"What?" He tries for innocence, but his smile is just a little too sinful. She's biting her lip as she's playing with his tie. Then all her thoughts leave her and she pulls him closer, catching his lips. She tugs slowly on his tie, walking backwards as she leads him blindly through the halls until she finds her back against her door. He reaches around her, twisting the doorknob and helping to keep her stable as the door disappears behind her.

She's pulling at his shirt and slipping each button from its restraint and sucking at his bottom lip. But suddenly he seems to stop- his hands still and his lips aren't reacting against hers any more.

"What's wrong?"

He pulls back, enough to see her face. "Sorry. It's nothing. It's just… a little weird. Sort of."

"You know how to make a girl feel good, don't cha?"

He hates that he can never get this quite right. That he sucks at sex and talking to women in a sexual capacity. "Sorry. On Gallifrey, if we were doing this… it would mean that we're trying to have a child."

Her lip worries its way under her teeth. He likes how she does that; likes more how her fingers play through his hair, massaging his skull. "Do you want kids?"

Does he want kids? He wants another Time Lord. He wants his kind back, another mind to feel in his. He wants to make Rose happy. He wants a life with her. But kids? What would he do with kids? He never really made a great father the first time round, would he be any better now?

He sighs away his rambling thoughts, "Well, I'm not actively trying to have them but… yeah, that'd be kind of nice. A couple of Time Tots running amuck. Young minds to mould."

"Time Tots?" she asks with a smile.

"Yeah. It's what we call little Time Lords and Ladies."

"It's cute."

"What about you?"

"Kids? Oh, I don't know. Yeah, I mean, I've always wanted some. Always figured I'd have some eventually," she looks at him, stroking his chest. "But, like you said, impossible, right?"

"Well, I didn't exactly say impossible. Unlikely. Improbable."

"Right." She seems hesitant for a moment, before, "Would… I don't know, would you like to try? To see if maybe it can be done?" Her breath catches in her throat as she waits, not entirely sure which reaction she's waiting for. It seems to take forever for a grin to spread across his face. He pulls her to him, snogging her properly. She pulls away, laughing a bit, "I'll take that as a-"

"Yes," he interrupts softly, cupping her face in his hands. "Yes."


Keep an eye out for "Let Me In".