#menomonyfic

She’d been barely eighteen, in that perfect period after the awkward teenage years but before the responsibilities of adulthood, and she should have been having the time of her life – hanging out with her mates, her future wide open. But instead she sat on a lonely park bench crying her eyes out, heartbroken, her dreams dragged through the mud and her future a bleak prospect stretching out in front of her.

She’d always known that Jimmy wasn’t perfect. He was far from a knight in shining armor or a dreamy Disney prince, but then Rose had thought she liked him like that – raw and unfiltered, doing everything loudly and excessively. Sharing that lifestyle with him had been exhilarating, at first. Doing whatever they wanted whenever they chose had felt liberating after years of being a – mostly – obedient little girl.

But then she’d started realizing exactly what living life to the fullest meant for Jimmy.

It meant going out and getting drunk every night. It meant disappearing for days with his mates without telling her. It meant saying to anyone who would listen that his band was going to become famous but never actually working to achieve that goal. It meant expecting her to do all the housework around the flat while he did absolutely nothing.

And apparently, it also meant bringing girls home when she was at work, and using their bed to…

Well. She supposed she’d been stupid to think their relationship had been the exception to his life of extremes.

She’d walked in on them one day after coming home early from work and she’d been too stunned to say anything. She’d left the flat without a word, wandering the streets for hours before finally collapsing on a park bench in the evening dusk, finally allowing the tears to fall as she contemplated what her life would become.

She’d have to go back to her mum, to start with.

They’d had a fight the last time she’d seen her, when she came to the flat to pick up her things and announce that she was moving out. There had been tension building up between them in the past few months – Jackie disapproving of her daughter’s growing relationship with someone she thought was a worthless bum, and Rose annoyed by what she believed was her mum’s attempt at controlling her life. The culmination of all that tension had not been pretty to witness.

And now she’d have to go back and admit to her mum that she’d been right about Jimmy all along. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to look forward to, but she couldn’t afford to be difficult. Not when she had nowhere else to go.

“These are very heavy tears to shed on a beautiful night like this, especially by a lovely young woman such as yourself.”

She raised her head from where it was resting in her hands, startled. She had been too invested in her own misery to realize that someone had sat down next to her. She was about to scoff at the line and tell the stranger to shove off when her eyes met his, and something in them stopped her. She couldn’t have explained what it was, exactly. Somehow, she knew that those eyes were not looking at her to lead her on or to mock her. They held no pity or inappropriate curiosity, either. What she felt from them was a kind of kinship, a shared understanding of the sorrows of the world and how much weight they can place on one’s shoulders.

She stared at those eyes for a moment, almost captivated, before glancing down at the rest of him, and then she laughed in spite of herself.

“What are you wearing?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, the beginnings of a smile dancing around his mouth.

“Why? What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“They’re just – You’re all…” she trailed off, gesturing at his whole ensemble. It wasn’t the kind of thing someone saw every day – posh velvet frock coat, embroidered waistcoat and silky cravat, it looked more like something an actor would wear on the set of a period drama.

“I think the word you’re looking for is dashing,” he replied with a wink.

She laughed again, the sound brighter and stronger than before.

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

She leaned back against the bench, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. The stranger’s arrival had made her forget about her worries, if only for a moment.  She took a deep breath, the fresh evening air suddenly invigorating. The man watched her in silence for a moment, a small smile on his face.

“Right,” he said suddenly, clapping his hands together and springing off the bench. “Time for an adventure, I should think.” He held out his hand to her, beaming in excitement. “Want to join me?”

She looked up at him in stupefaction, unsure how to respond to such a strange offer. An adventure? That sounded a bit… shady. If it had been anyone else saying that to her she would have thought they were up to something, but as she looked up at that strange man, she felt irresistibly drawn to him, to his overflowing enthusiasm and his warm smile, and she knew, with absolute certainty, that she could trust him. She took his hand and used it to pull herself off the bench, unexpected warmth blooming inside her at the contact.

Their hands fit together perfectly.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I feel like exploring, I think. You’d be surprised by how many things there are to discover, even in your own city.”

By all means she should be wary – he was a stranger, after all, one who’d decided that a girl sobbing on a deserted park bench was a perfect companion for the evening – but the voice of reason in her head was shoved to the back of her mind as she returned his smile, his eagerness contagious.

“Alright, I’m in! I’m Rose, by the way, Rose Tyler.”

“Very nice to meet you, Rose. Now run!”

He tugged on her hand, and she had to follow him as he took off running through the streets. Her initial astonishment at this unexpected action quickly faded away, replaced by bursts of laughter as she was overcome by an exhilarating sense of freedom. They were running for no reason, with no fixed destination, and she was quickly discovering the simple joy of filling her lungs with deep breaths of fresh air, of her muscles straining in her legs, of the sound of the pavement under her feet. People were looking at them like they were mad but for the first time in her life she couldn’t care less – in a second those disapproving strangers would be left far behind, never to be seen again, and she wondered why she had ever let such things stop her before.

When they finally slowed down Rose was flushed and panting, but she was feeling better than she had in a long time. She stopped to catch her breath, beaming at the barely winded man in front of her.

“What now?” she asked, eager.

“Hmm, let’s see… If I’m not mistaken we should be close to – Ah yes! Come on, follow me!”

He grabbed her hand once more, walking at a swift pace for a few blocks before stopping at the corner of a busy street.

“Here we are,” the man said, sweeping his free hand in front of him. “This is our next stop.”

She felt her heart drop when she recognized the brightly lit building a few meters away. This… wasn’t what she’d been expecting.

“The Royal Opera House? But I’m not…”

She looked at the small groups of people walking up towards its entrance, all posh and elegantly dressed, then down at herself. Her rumpled, workday clothes were definitely not appropriate attire for something like this. It was one thing to disregard strangers’ stares of as she ran past them down the street, but quite another to be sneered at for hours at a time.

“Don’t worry, you’re fine just like that,” the man assured her with a smile, understanding her reluctance. “We’re not going in by the front door.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he had taken her hand – and he liked doing that, didn’t he? – pulling her towards an alley running down the side of the building until they reached a side entrance. The man guarding it frowned as he saw them approach.

“Member of the public must use the front door,” he warned them as they stopped in front of him. Rose tensed at the guard’s stern tone but kept silent when the other man squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“Yes, of course, this is understandable” he nodded with a benign smile. “However, we are not – just wait a moment –where did I put this…”

Rose watched as her companion searched his pockets, trying not to show any of the surprise she was feeling to the guard observing them closely. They weren’t members of the public? Who were they, then? Who was he?

“Ahh, here it is!” the man exclaimed triumphantly, extracting a slim leather wallet from one of his pockets and presenting it to the guard. “You see?”

The guard opened the wallet with a frown, his eyes widening slightly when he looked inside.

“My apologies, I didn’t know who you were,” he apologized hurriedly, handing back the wallet and stepping aside. “Please go in, sir, ma’am. The performance is about to start.”

“Very well, thank you. Miss Tyler, if you will,” he said, giving her a slight bow before offering her his arm.

Despite her perplexity over what had just happened, the chivalry of the gesture dissipated her tension. She smiled brightly at him as she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, and together they stepped through the door. There was a small deserted corridor beyond, and she waited until the door had closed on them to lean in towards him.

“So, who are you then?” she asked in a low voice. “Someone important? A director for the Opera, or a chairman, or something?”

“Hmm? What makes you say that?” he asked distractedly. She nodded to the pocket where he had put away the wallet, and a look of understanding came across his face. “Oh, because of the paper. Well yes, something like that, I suppose. I didn’t check.”

She stared at him, puzzled by the odd answer, but all thoughts on the matter fled her mind as they stepped into the main hallway. It was… impressive, to say the least. All around them was a scene of controlled chaos: people running around, carrying cables and costumes and bits of accessories, talking hurriedly in their headset as they went along. No one was giving the two of them the least bit of attention. Rose glanced at the presumably important man walking next to her, wondering if he was offended by this lack of regard, but he seemed perfectly happy to wander the corridors unheeded.

They walked around, peeking inside the numerous rooms, and she hadn’t thought he had a destination in mind until he led her towards a small service staircase, his face alight with enthusiasm.

“Come on, this way.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, half-laughing and half-perplexed as they began to climb the narrow steps.

“I’m not quite sure, but isn’t that the thrill of exploring?”

The stairs spiraled up and up, the narrow slits dimly lighting their path giving them an increasingly striking view of the auditorium below. From time to time the staircase opened up into small nooks and crannies filled with a mishmash of objects – broken spotlights, dusty musical instruments, and crumbling stage accessories that looked like they would fall apart if touched. They paused in their assent to examine the jumble with a sort of hushed reverence, feeling rather like the first explorers to visit the ruins of a long-forgotten city.

The first notes of the orchestra tuning up had just begun to reverberate in the staircase with a haunting sort of echo when the steps led them to a large, curved alcove. There was a window etched in the furthest wall that allowed the lights and sounds from within the opera hall to spilling through to them and Rose approached it, curious to see how far up they had climbed.

She froze, amazed.

They were standing inside the domed ceiling of the opera hall, the room opening up to an impressive depth before her. The audience below was bathed in a shadowy light, creating a murmuring, undulating sea from which the individuals were barely distinguishable.

As she watched, breathless, a hush suddenly fell over the crowd. Though they were far above, the alcove offered a good view of the stage, and she saw the curtains open onto what looked like a naval scene, a single light illuminating a man in the center of the stage.

The singer’s voice swelled throughout the room, pure and strong, and Rose only realized that she was holding her breath, speechless, when the man moved to stand next to her.

“This is Der fliegende Holländer – The Flying Dutchman – one of Wagner’s famous romantic operas,” he whispered into her ear, his tone reverent. “It tells the tale of the Dutchman, cursed to roam the sea for eternity and only allowed to come ashore every seven years to seek redemption. The story begins when the captain Daland is forced to seek a port of refuge because of stormy weather...”

Rose listened, captivated, as he translated the German lyrics, his hushed but passionate voice only adding to the experience. During a small break in the song he moved to sit down on the small ledge in front of the window, gently tugging on her hand to invite her to do the same, and they settled comfortably next to each other to watch as the Dutchman walked on stage. She would never have expected to enjoy an opera before, but the majesty of the voices and orchestra resonating inside the dome combined to the warmth of the man sitting next to her made her heart soar.

Eventually the curtains fell and the lights came back on, and she roused herself from the captivated trance she’d fallen under. The intermission had come so quickly! Had it really been that long already? She was about to sit up and stretch her cramped muscles when she suddenly realized the position she was in. She must have shifted during the performance, because instead of sitting next to the man she was now leaning against him, her back to his chest, while he kept her secure with an arm around her waist.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to...” she stammered as she scrambled to move away, a blush rising to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, tightening his hold on her.

“Be careful, I don’t want you to fall. I don’t mind staying like this, if you want. You seemed comfortable.”

She hesitated for a beat, letting out a shaky breath she hoped he couldn’t hear as she leaned back against him. She wasn’t used to simple gestures like this anymore, hadn’t shared a moment of intimacy that didn’t come loaded with expectations and disappointments with anyone in a long time, and she hadn’t realized how much she craved it until now. She relaxed in the man’s embrace, enjoying the gentle pressure of his arms around her waist, the way she could feel his chest rise and fall with his breathing against her back. From underneath came the voices of the crowd, rising up to them in a constant hum, and she closed her eyes, feeling warm and content.

She must have drowsed off, because when she opened her eyes again the man was gently shaking her and the lights had dimmed once more. She turned her head to look at him, a sleepy smile on her face.

“Sorry to fall asleep on you like that.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. You seem to have had quite a day.”

The smile slipped off her face as the day’s events came rushing back to her. How was it even possible that she’d forgotten…? She realized that in the past few hours she hadn’t thought about Jimmy even once – her mind had been too full of excitement the man had suddenly brought to her life.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” apologized the man, noticing her reaction to his offhand comment.

She shook her head with a half-shrug, averting her eyes from the concern in his.

“No, it’s alright. I just –”

Just then the curtains opened on the lonely figure of a woman, and Rose fell silent as her melancholy voice resonated all the way up to the domed ceiling. The almost tangible sorrow of the singer stirred something in her, and as she listened her thoughts strayed to her own heartbreak.

She felt… considerably better than she had at first, in those first hours after her discovery. She was still grieving, of course, but instead of the overpowering, almost wild devastation she had felt at first, her anguish had now lessened to a state of sad resignation. Maybe she had been ready for this breakup for a while now, without realizing it, and that it was only through her own obstinacy that she hadn’t left Jimmy sooner. The truth was, she didn’t love him anymore. She wasn’t sure she’d ever really loved him – no, what she’d felt for him had been nothing more than an infatuation, born partly out of a childish desire for rebellion. It hadn’t been love, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt her. No, despite what should have been her better judgement, she’d given him her heart, and he’d trampled upon it ruthlessly.

She would heal, though. She was too strong, worth too much to let herself be ruined by him. But to heal this dull ache needed to be acknowledged.

“I – I met Jimmy when I was still in high school. All the girls thought he was so amazing: he was older, cooler. He was a rebel and a musician, and that combination for a girl like me was just dynamite waiting to explode…”

Without really meaning to she began to tell her story, her eyes fixed on the stage without really seeing it, her low whispers at times almost lost in the harmony of voices coming from below. She knew he was listening, though. His hand was drawing soothing patterns on her arms, his soft, steady breath over the nape of her neck giving her the strength to keep talking.

“...And that was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was so furious that I slapped him and stormed out, but after that I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I wandered in the city, and slowly my anger dissolved into hurt, and then into misery. I kept thinking about all the time I wasted on him, all the things I’d given up to be with him and I thought – that’s it. This is how I ruined my life.”

She was silent for a moment, quietly wiping the few tears that had escaped from her eyes. The man must have noticed because his arms tightened around her and she relaxed against him with a sigh.

“It’s not that bad, though. I’m better off without him, I know that at least. And I haven’t lost everything. I still have my mum, for one. I’ll go back to her, and I know she’ll welcome me back with open arms, I know she will. She loves me, I’m lucky to have her.”

“Oh, Rose. You’re so incredible. I don’t think you realize it yourself. Making mistakes is only natural; it is part of being alive. But what’s remarkable is how you learn from these mistakes, how you use them to grow stronger. I am absolutely not worried about you. You’ll be more than alright – you’ll be amazing.”

She shifted in his arms to look at him, her breath catching in her throat. How could he have so much faith in her? People had always told her that she couldn’t change who she was or where she was from, that she should just accept it and not reach for more, but he made her want to forget all of that. He gave her hope that if she worked hard enough she could do anything, that if she strived for it she could become the best version of herself.

She smiled brightly at him through her tears, feeling much lighter than before – somehow, she had the impression her heartbreak was beginning to heal already.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning over to press her lips to his cheek.

When she pulled back he had a softened look on his face that made her heart skip a beat, and she quickly turned back towards the stage to hide her reddened cheeks. After a moment he leaned forward to whisper the English words of the song in her ear, and they watched the rest of the opera in much the same way as before – the only exception being that this time, she was more than aware of the body pressed against her, so comfortable and so warm.

They snuck out once the performance was over, retracing their steps down the stairs and into the maze of corridors below, the scene a more subdued chaos this time as people packed up for the night. They nodded to the guard on their way out, walked calmly to the street corner, and without a word passing between them grabbed each other’s hand and took off running into the night.

They stopped next to a Tube station, both of them giggling like children, but the laughter died on her lips as she gazed up at him. This evening had been extraordinary, and she had the nagging feeling that once it was over, nothing close to it would ever happen to her again – and worse, that she’d never see him again. Everything inside her rebelled against that notion and she bit her lip, wondering what she should say to keep this from happening. In the end he spoke before her.

“Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Rose. You helped make this a truly memorable evening.”

“Well, thanks for asking me to come with you,” she replied with a small laugh. “I never thought I could have so much fun, so soon after… you know, everything else that’s happened.”

His eyes softened into that gentle expression that always seemed to warm her from the inside. He opened his arms in invitation and she walked into them without hesitating, sighing as she took in the smell of him, the solid feeling of his embrace.

“I’m glad I could help,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over the nape of her neck. “What will you do now?”

“Get some order back in my life, I guess. Everything’s chaotic right now, I can’t go on like this. I’ll make peace with my mum, with my friends. Get some boring old job for now, too, but maybe after a while I’ll have saved enough to go back to school. It doesn’t sound like much, I know, but…”

“It sounds perfect,” he assured her, pulling back with his hands on her shoulder to look her in the eye. “You know what you want and what you need to do, and that takes more strength than you realize. I told you, Rose, you’ll be amazing.”

As she held his gaze, so earnest and so kind, something inside her twisted in yearning. Yes, she did know what she wanted – more of this, more of him, and that settled it. She had to ask.

“Do you think – do you think we could see each other again? If you want to, I’d love it if we could – have more adventures like tonight, together.”

She waited with bated breath, feeling more nervous than she could ever remember being while asking someone out. But then, he wasn’t like anyone else, either. She felt his hands tighten on her shoulders, unreadable emotions flashing through his eyes as he seemed to hesitate. Every second of his prolonged silence increased her nervousness. What had she been thinking? Why would he want to –

“Rose, don’t think that I don’t want to see you again, because I do, very much so. But I’m sorry to say I won’t be in London for much longer, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

She released the breath she’d been holding, her heart dropping in her chest. She’d been expecting something like this, as unconsciously as it might have been. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to sit still for too long.

“Where are you going?” she asked, interested despite her disappointment.

“I’m not… exactly sure, really. Anywhere my travels take me.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. She didn’t really understand his odd answer but she knew he was telling the truth.

“I wish I could travel too. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a little girl – to see the world, to know how people live away from London.”

“I’d love to take you with me. There are so many wonders I could show you, so many things to experience… But you’re right, of course you are. There are things you need to do here, first.”

His choice of words, as well as the wistfulness in his eyes, renewed her hopes and gave her the courage to ask again.

“Maybe… if you ever come to London again, in a few months, or – or in a year, even, you could… drop by to see me? Maybe then, I’d be able to…” she trailed off, but they both knew what she was saying.

He gave her a small smile in which she could see both longing and regret, and the thought came to her suddenly: He doesn’t usually ask twice.

But then he hadn’t actually asked her, had he? So maybe –

He cupped her face in his hands and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. He pulled back a few seconds later, his expression so tender that she felt like she couldn’t breathe. He looked at her as though he wanted to commit her features to memory, his eyes wavering as they lingered on her lips, and it was more than she could take. She raised herself onto her toes, holding his gaze as she inched closer to give him ample time to react. His breath hitched as he watched her with slightly widened eyes but he made no move to stop her, and after a few seconds she finally sealed the distance between them in a kiss.

It was soft and chaste, their lips moving ever so gently against each other, but it made her heart pound in a way it never had before – not when she’d had her first kiss behind the school when she was thirteen – not when Jimmy had finally agreed to go out with her – never.

It ended all too soon, their breath mingling together as his lips hovered close to hers for a moment. He finally pulled back, and the gentleness of his hands as they slid away from her face made her experience a new, sweet kind of pain. Her hands were clutching the lapels of his coat and she smoothed them down before letting go – she couldn’t remember reaching out to grip them in the first place.

“Alright, Rose, it’s a promise,” he whispered, his eyes intense and fixed on hers. “I’ll come back to London in a few months, and this time I’ll take you with me, if you still want to.”

“I will. I promise, I will.”

He nodded, reaching out to cup her cheek one last time before forcing himself to step away from her.

“Until we meet again, then,” he said, and then he was gone.

She was lying in her old bed in her mum’s flat, later that night, when she realized he’d never told her his name.

Two years later, in the wardrobe room, Rose stared at the clothes on the hanger, frozen in place.

There, before her very eyes, was the outfit of the stranger who’d taken her to the opera and given her one of the most memorable night of her life, the mysterious man she’d never been able to find again, no matter how hard she’d tried.

For a moment she wondered if she wasn’t just imagining things. How could these be the same clothes? Maybe they just looked similar. Maybe her memory was faulty. Maybe – maybe some weird alien pollen had spread from one of the gardens in the TARDIS and was causing her to hallucinate, but no – she reached out with a shaky hand to touch the clothes and she knew she was right.

It was all there – the frock coat, the embroidered waistcoat, the silk cravat, even the high-collared white shirt he’d been wearing. She brushed the frock coat with her fingers, the feeling of the velvet exactly how she remembered it, the memory of smoothing it down after their kiss still vivid in her mind.

But how did this end up here? Her breath caught as she recalled some things from that night – the thin wallet containing his identification and how he wasn’t sure what was written on it – the fact that he didn’t know where he was going or when he was going back – the running. How had she not realized –? Could that man actually have been –?

“Rose, have you picked a dress yet? Because I was thinking we could go lower class for this one, you know, to get the authentic Oliver Twist experience.”

She startled at the sound of the Doctor’s voice and whirled around to face him. He’d been walking towards her, an enthusiastic smile on his face, but he paused, frowning, when he saw the look on her face.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” His gaze drifted down to the outfit she’d been looking at, surprise and confusion flitting through his face to be quickly replaced by his usual mask of easy-going cheerfulness. “Rose, why are you looking at men’s clothes? I mean, you’re free to do whatever you want, of course, but I’m not sure cross-dressing is really the right look for you.”

She shook her head and swallowed thickly, ignoring his attempt at a joke.

“This outfit… Doctor, what’s it doing here?”

“What’s it doing…?” he repeated with a puzzled frown, clearly at a loss as to what was going on. “Well, in fact, I used to wear this in my eighth body. I was a bit of a romantic back then. You should have seen me, I looked like –”

“A hero from a Victorian novel,” Rose cut him off in a breathless voice. “With curly brown hair, kind blue eyes and such a gentle smile… Oh God, it was you. This whole time, I was – I wondered… and it was you! One evening you approached a young girl crying in a park, you took her hand and told her to run. You brought her to the Opera House and you watched Wagner together from a window in the ceiling. You said you had to leave and promised to come back again in a few months, but she never saw you again – or at least that’s what she thought, all this time.”

“Rose,” he breathed out, stunned. “What –?”

“I don’t understand, Doctor. Why didn’t you tell me? When I met you for what I thought was the first time in that basement in Henrik’s, why did you act like you didn’t recognize me? Did you – did you not want to see me again? Is that why you never came back, even though you promised you would? I looked for you everywhere after that night at the Opera, I never gave up hope, and you didn’t even… But then after we beat the Nestene Consciousness you clearly wanted me as a companion again because you asked me to come with you – twice! – so why didn’t you tell me…”

Her words dissolved into tears as the shock of her discovery mixed in with all the feelings she’d kept buried from that night long ago overwhelmed her. The Doctor took a step in her direction before stopping, distress and confusion plainly written on his face.

“I don’t – Rose, I don’t remember any of this, I never… I think I would recall…” He trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wide and unfocused. “Come on, think, think, think. How can this be possible…? Oh.”

He froze, his hand still in the act of tugging at his hair, a look of pained understanding dawning on his face.

“Yes, that must be it. There’s no other way. But it’s a twisted joke for the universe to make at our expense,” he whispered, talking to himself more than to her. He shook his head and exhaled shakily before looking up at her. “Rose, I know this explanation will sound… far-fetched, but it’s the only one that makes any sort of sense. You see, my eighth body had this… propensity for losing his memory. You’ll say it’s a strange thing to have a talent for, but it happened too often over the course of this particular regeneration to be a coincidence. So my guess is that something must have made me forget meeting you, and that those memories were never restored. Because believe me, I could never have forgotten you on my own.”

She had been listening to him with a frown on her face, and he watched her anxiously in the tense silence that followed his explanation. She nodded after a few seconds, her mouth twisting down in a sad smile.

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. And really, considering the life you lead, I’m not surprised that something like that would happen to you.”

The Doctor let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relieved that she believed him.

“You know me. Always looking for trouble, regardless of which version of me it is.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a small chuckle.

She took a hesitant step towards him and he immediately opened his arms to her. A more natural smile bloomed on her face as she closed the distance between them, and he felt the tension drain out of both of them as they melted into each other’s embrace.

“Doctor?” she murmured against his chest after a moment of silence.

“Hmm?”

“Does that mean you’ll never remember meeting me that night? Because it – it makes me sad, to be the only one who does.”

His arms tightened around her as his hearts clenched in his chest. He wanted to remember, too. He cherished every single moment spent with her, and the thought that their true first meeting was missing from his memory was a painful one for him to bear.

“There… might be a way,” he whispered in her hair, “but I’m not sure you’d agree to it. It’s – well…”

He hesitated, and she pulled back to look at him, her eyes searching his.

“What is it?”

“I – I’d have to go inside your head. If I could see your memories of that night, it’s possible that it might jolt my own. It’s not guaranteed to happen, mind you, but it’s the only thing I can think of to –”

“Okay.”

Her quick approval made him start, his hearts beginning to beat faster in his chest as she looked at him with a steady, determined gaze.

“Are you sure? This is a very intimate thing, going into someone else’s head, so you might not want –”

“I don’t mind if it’s you, Doctor. I want you to. The memory of that night belongs to both of us, after all.”

He nodded once, swallowing nervously as he raised a hand to her temple. She closed her eyes in anticipation and he paused to look at her, awed at the trust she placed in him. He cleared his throat nervously.

“Alright, imagine that your mind contains a multitude of rooms, and put your memory of that evening into one of its own. Leave the door to that room open and close the rest. I swear I won’t look at anything you don’t want me to.”

“I know,” she said with a smile before giving him a small nod. “Alright, I’m ready.”

He took one last shaky breath and slipped into her mind.

It was warm and bright, exhilarating and soothing all at once, and his senses were so overwhelmed by the feeling of Rose that it took all he had to remain focused on the task at hand. As he looked around he saw a room in front of him, the door wide open in welcome, and he stepped through it eagerly.

Rose’s memory of that evening was as sharp as though it had happened yesterday. He heard his voice as he startled her on the bench, saw himself through her eyes as he offered her his hand and as she started to run after him. And then he didn’t need to watch anymore because he remembered.

She had captured his attention from the moment he’d seen her crying alone in that park. That body had been more apt at sensing timelines and hers shimmered in front of him, strangely inscrutable but so bright, radiating a warmth that was so much at odds with the misery she currently projected that he couldn’t help but feel the need to comfort her.

And then… She’d taken his hand and ran with him so willingly that it awoke something inside him, something he hadn’t felt this strongly in a long time. He’d wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to make her eyes shine in delight as they took in the wonders of the universe.

She opened up to him, confiding in him the reason why she’d been crying, and what he’d felt then had been… overpowering. In the sudden onslaught of feelings the predominant one had been the urge to protect her from harm at any cost, to take her away from this place and keep her safe with him, and that sudden desire had given him pause.

Because the mere idea that this bright, lovely young woman would be safe with him was ridiculous.

He’d been at war with himself for the rest of the opera. Should he invite her to travel with him? Part of him wanted to, so much. She’d make the perfect companion. He’d grown so weary of life in recent years, but seeing the world through her eyes would make everything appear new and exciting again. And he felt so drawn to her…

But that was also the reason why a part of him wanted to keep her as far away as possible. He had learned the hard way that there were only two possible endings for people who chose to travel with him: they either left him of their own will, or were robbed of their chance to do so through less than pleasant means. There was no reason she would be any different, and he didn’t think he could stand the pain of losing yet another companion. Traveling together would do neither of them any good in the end.

He was still hesitating when she made the choice without him having to even ask, telling him that there were things in her life she needed to put to rights. He’d resolved then not to ask her – her determination to make peace with her mother and improve her life were admirable. He shouldn’t stand in the way of the happy life he was sure she’d lead without him.

But then she’d kissed him.

And that… that had changed everything.

He didn’t understand how he could feel this way towards a human he’d only known for a few hours, but he did, and while that completely terrified him, it also thrilled him to his core. His lonely, scarred hearts sang at the touch of her lips, and he’d known then that there was no way he could stay away.

He had gone back to his TARDIS with every intention of skipping forward a few months to meet her again, but the moment he’d entered, all sorts of alarms were flashing in the console room, the old girl refusing to take him anywhere other than the destination setting off so many warnings. He had been more than reluctant – after all, the TARDIS was a time machine, so why couldn’t he deal with this problem later? But then again that argument went both ways – he could easily go meet Rose after taking care of this – so rather than arguing with his ship he’d let her take him where she pleased.

And that’s the moment he’d lost his memory. His recollection of those events was murky, Rose’s own memories not being there to help him any longer. He had the vague idea that the TARDIS had been attacked, scarring his mind through his connection with her. They’d both been badly injured but managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. Their subsequent recovery had been long and, as he now knew, incomplete. He had realized that he couldn’t really remember the events leading up to their injuries, but he hadn’t thought it was really important at the time.

After all, what was one mere evening on Earth? He had no idea he’d even been there.

“Oh, Rose,” he breathed out, gently slipping out of her mind. He cupped her cheek as she slowly opened her eyes and rested his forehead lightly against hers. “When we parted, I had every intention of jumping forward a few months to see you again the moment I got back to the TARDIS, but there were all these alarms and, well, you know how the old girl gets when she decides she wants to go somewhere. I figured I’d deal with the problem first and go to you after, but I never thought… If I had, I never would have let the TARDIS leave Earth before I had you with me.”

Her arms looped around his neck, anchoring her to him as she took a shaky breath.

“You know, maybe the TARDIS knew what she was doing. If I’d traveled with you back then, I wouldn’t have been there to meet the other you, freshly out of the Time War. I think – I think that you needed me more, and the TARDIS knew that.”

The ship hummed soothingly around them. The Doctor sent her a jab of annoyance in his mind, he knew he couldn’t be mad at mad for long.

“I think you’re right. I would have been so happy to travel with you, in my eighth body, but… I’m not sure I would have survived without you in my ninth. Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry I made you wait for me all that time.”

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, and all the things he’d felt in his eighth body, all the things he still felt in his tenth, came bubbling up, threatening to spill out.

“But you kept your promise in the end, right? That’s the important thing.”

She smiled at him, her tongue teasing him as it slipped out of the corner of her mouth, and that was it. That tongue spelled the end of his restraint.

“Well then. Can I do something that’s a long, long time coming?”

She nodded, her breath catching, and this time he was the one closing the distance between them to press his lips to hers, like he should have done years and years ago.

“Look, down there. This must be the place we’re looking for.”

The merchant had told them to take a left after turning into the street, and this had brought them to a small road, lined with unremarkable houses on both sides except for one which definitely stood out. It was larger than the others, for one, and stood isolated from the others, the area surrounding it bare of anything other than yellowing grass. The building itself had a dreary, forbidding appearance, enclosed as it was by a high metallic fence, its front wall devoid of windows, a surveillance camera above its heavy front door.

As they approached, a man within the enclosure came into view, marching down one side of the building. They scrambled for cover, managing to hide behind a hedge of a house on the other side of the street before the man could see them. They watched as he walked around the corner, paused at the front door to scan the street, and disappeared around the other side of the building.

A guard patrolling the perimeter. Great. It would have been too easy otherwise.

“Alright, I think we need a plan,” she said in a low voice.

“Agreed. I suggest we circle the building and see if we can find an easier way in – there must be a window somewhere, or at least a smaller door, one without a security camera. ”

“Yeah, or we could walk up to the front door,” she suggested with a raised eyebrow. “That’s usually the kind of plan you like, no? Take me to your leader, that kind of thing. And, well, if they want to take use prisoner, them just let them. We can find a way to escape once we’re inside and reunited with your future self.”

“Let’s keep this as a last resort, shall we?” he answered with an amused smile. “After all, he’s had over two hours to free himself, and he hasn’t managed to do so yet. Who says we’d do any better? No, I think we should try to find a back door, first.”

Rose nodded in agreement, and together they circled the building as best as they could. They had to stray far from the fence sometimes, the surrounding area of grass making it difficult to move while staying out of sight of the patrolling guard. They reached the back of the building by taking a side alley and trespassing into the backyard of the house situated directly behind it, crouching behind some bushes to observe the building without being seen.

The Doctor had been right. There was a door there, and from what she could see there weren’t any cameras, either.

“So, what do you think? Is this our way in?”

“Hmm, maybe. Let’s wait for the guard pass by, first.”

A few minutes trickled down in silence. Rose sat down on the ground, letting the Doctor keep watch as she stretched. The day had been one giant roller-coaster, and it was far from over yet. She squinted at the sky to see that the sun was already dipping down towards the horizon, and she suddenly felt the urge to get moving, now. They had to rescue the Doctor, and quickly. She wanted to watch the opening ceremony in a few hours with both of them by her side.

“That’s not going to work.” The voice of the Doctor by her side startled her out of her thoughts. “I’ve counted the time the guard takes to complete his circuit, or rather, the time when this side of the building is not in his line of sight. He’s not absolutely regular, but it’s a few minutes, at most. That won’t be enough time for both of us to sprint from here to the fence, to climb it and go back down again, and to find the correct setting on the sonic to open this door. It can’t see it too clearly from here but it looks like the front door, which I could see in a second was a double encrypted security door – this takes much longer to sonic open than normal locks.”

Rose nodded as she listened to him, her brow furrowed. There had to be a way, nonetheless. So, their problem was that they didn’t have enough time. What they needed, then, was for the guard’s patrol to take longer. And for this, what was required was a distraction. It was simple logic.

Maybe she could go back and… Yes, that would work. He wouldn’t like the idea, but it would work.

“Right. I’ll do it. I’ll buy you more time,” she declared, a determined glint in her eyes.

“I don’t follow.”

“I’ll distract the guard. I’ll go to the front of the building and delay his patrol. You can use that extra time to get inside.”

“Rose, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he cautioned, frowning.

“No, listen, it’s perfect! I know what I’ll do, too: I’ll walk up to the guard and ask him to fetch his boss. I’ll say I loved his products so much I want to place a special order, a very… lucrative special order. I’m sure he’ll want to come and talk to me then, and that will mean one less person for you to deal with inside.”

He opened his mouth to argue and closed it again without a word. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with the thought of her putting herself in danger like that, especially since he wouldn’t be able to help her if thing went south, but it was a good plan, and they both knew it.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly, “but please be careful, Rose. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I will, I promise. But you know, I’m no rookie, I’ve been in worse situations before.” She had meant to be reassuring but her words only seemed to make him more uneasy, so she gave him a teasing grin, trying to relieve the tension. “Anyway, you’re one to talk, always rushing into danger. And I can’t even imagine how it’s going to be when you free your future self. Two Doctors together, that just means twice the trouble.”

It worked. He chuckled, reaching over to squeeze her hand in his.

“Rose Tyler, what terrible things have my other selves gotten you used to? You’d see, if you travelled with me – I’d only take you to peaceful worlds and leisure planets. I’d fill your days with cruises on azure waters and outdoors concerts underneath the sunset. No trouble of any kind involved.”

“Somehow I very much doubt that,” she answered, laughing to hide the flutter in her chest. “I know you. You’d get bored in no time. You’d pretend to be aiming for the Ball of the Grand Duchess’ Ball of Xalthir, in celebration a thousand years of peace, and land us smack dab in the middle of the next century’s revolution instead.”

“What, and miss out on the chance to waltz with you? No, no, the revolution would have to wait. Of course we could always find a way to cause a bit of scandal at the Ball while we’re there. Parties on Xalthir do tend to be a bit dull.”

“That sounds like a bit of trouble I wouldn’t be opposed to.”

She smiled at him, taken by the vision of this adventure they could never share. He raised her hand to his lips, and the twinge of longing in her heart that had been there ever since she had met him grew to almost physical pain. She averted her eyes with a sigh and pushed herself off the wall.

“We can dance once this is over, but for now there’s some very real trouble that we have to take care of. Once the guard passes by again I’ll make my way to the front door and wait for him there.”

He nodded, his expression becoming serious once more as he considered her words.

“Understood. I’ll wait a few minutes by the door before going in, to give the guard enough time to fetch his master. I don’t expect there to be a lot of people left inside to deal with, once he’s gone – this is a clandestine operation after all, they are unlikely to be a large group.”

Rose shifted uncertainly, suddenly overcome with the same concern he’d felt for her earlier.

“Be careful in there, Doctor. We don’t know what they might be capable of.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been in worse situations before,” he assured her with a grin, mirroring her words from before. “But that reminds me…”

He searched his pockets for a few moments before taking out a small metallic object that looked somewhat like a can of pepper spray. She looked at it with a puzzled look when he handed it to her.

“What is it?”

“An Ethynian blaster. Nifty little thing. It can create a subsonic sound wave that will momentarily knock out anyone in front of it without inflicting any permanent damage.”

“You’re giving me a weapon?”

“Well, a non-lethal one. It’ll even out the playing field. That guard had a laser pistol strapped to his belt. It occurred to me that using the sonic to open the door might set up an alarm of some sort, and if that happens they will immediately become suspicious of you. Rose, take it, please. It will make me feel much better to know that you have it.”

“Alright,” she relented as she pocketed the blaster. “You’re right, it might come in handy. What about you, though?”

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” he said dismissively. “Now, one final thing."

His eyes darted down to her neck, and she was suddenly reminded of the necklace she was still wearing. She raised her hand up to touch it, feeling a bit self-conscious after the charged moment they had exchanged earlier, but he had already raised his eyes back up to fix them firmly on hers.

“You should take it off before you go. He’ll know this isn’t one of his own creations and it might make him wary.”

She nodded, reaching up to undo the clasp. She hesitated for a moment, looking at the necklace as it pooled in the palm of her hand, still golden and shimmering, before closing her fingers around it and extending her hand to him.

“Here, you hold on to it for me. This way we have to see each other again after you free your other self.”

“Do you think I would sneak off to my TARDIS without a goodbye?” he chuckled, but his expression sobered when she shrugged uncertainly and looked away. His mouth twisted down in a sad smile at the sight, and after a moment he reached out to take the necklace from her, pocketing it with a sigh. When her gaze didn’t return to him he raised a hand to her cheek, gently forcing her to look at him again.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I would like to blame my other selves for giving you a bad opinion of me, but I know I’m not blameless in this matter, either. It’s true that I’m not always good at handling goodbyes. But I won’t do that to you, Rose. I won’t leave without seeing you again. After all,” he added with a small smile, “I remember you suggesting a dance once this is over, and I’m very much looking forward to it.”

She bit her lip as she chuckled softly, her cheeks flushing under the warmth in his eyes.

“I am, too,” she assured him. His thumb stroked the apple of her cheek and her eyes drifted close as she struggled not to nuzzle into his hands.

It was hard to remember that this Doctor barely knew her when he did things like that, and she wondered why he allowed himself so much familiarity with her. Surely he had noticed by now the effect he had on her, had probably realized how she felt about him. Why wasn’t he keeping his distance, then? With his future self, despite how close they were, the mere hint of a relationship was usually enough to send him running, or at the very least make him do everything he could to distract her from –

Her train of thought blinked out of existence as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. His kiss lingered, and she reflexively reached out for the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric under her fingers as she barely dared to breathe.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered when he pulled back, his lips still hovering centimeters from her skin.

She swallowed thickly as she nodded, not thrusting her voice, and she forced herself to take a step back before she did something she’d regret. The guard had just disappeared around the corner, and she stepped out of their hiding place without a word, resolutely making her way back to the front of the building.

She still hadn’t regained her composure by the time she reached the front gate, and she paused for a second to take a deep breath, admonishing herself as she did so. This wasn’t the time to indulge her feelings. There were two Doctors counting on her.

Rose walked up to the fence just as the guard turned the corner, and he eyed her suspiciously as he approached, his hand hovering uncertainly above the weapon on his belt.

“Hello,” she greeted him with her brightest, friendliest smile. “Beautiful day, isn’t it? Listen, I was hoping to talk to your boss. You know, the one that does all those lovely empathic pieces? I saw some of his work today and I absolutely adore it. I’d love to talk business with him, I have a proposition I’m sure he’ll like – a very profitable one.”

The stern expression on the guard’s face did not waver as talked.

“Wait here,” he ordered her before turning back towards the building. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding once he disappeared inside.

Phase one done. Now she just had to hold both the guard and the artist’s attention long enough for the Doctor to find his future self and escape. It should be easy, right?

Time ticked by without the guard returning, and she began to feel edgy. By her best estimate close to five minutes had passed since she’d left the Doctor. Any longer now and he’d sonic the door open, without her having been able to distract the people inside.

“Come on, come on,” she urged under her breath. She sighed in relief when the front door opened only to tense once again when she saw the guard returning alone.

“Master Tva’n has agreed to see you. Come in, I’ll take you to him,” he announced, unlocking the fence gate for her to step through.

She swallowed nervously, hesitating for a fraction of a second. She hadn’t expected this – she’d thought the man would come outside to meet her rather than risk a potential investor discovering the truth behind his operation.

There was nothing to be done now, though. With a curt nod, she stepped through the gate, waiting for the guard to lock it behind her before following him through the door.

The building was dark and eerily still, their footsteps echoing loudly in the succession of empty rooms through which the man guided her. The whole place seemed completely deserted, in fact. The Doctor had been right, then – a clandestine operation such as this meant very few people involved.

“Here we are,” the guard announced, leading her into yet another room.

That one wasn’t empty, though. On the far side of the room was what looked like a security station, with the video feed of the security camera at the front of the building, as well as a number of others apparently spread out over a big part of the city. There were a few chairs and a desk in a corner, covered with sheets of paper, and to her right was a heavy door with a small key pad above its handle. The guard walked up to it and knocked.

“Master, she’s here.”

“Very good,” came the answer from the other side. There was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor followed by a few rushed, muffled whispers. Then the door opened by a fraction and two men slipped through its opening before closing it behind them.

The first one stayed by the door, watching her as he idly fiddled with the weapon in his hands. The other walked towards her with a confident step and extended a hand for her to shake. That was Tva’n, then. He definitely didn’t look like any artist she’d ever met, and she spared a moment to wonder how the merchants of the city had ever mistaken him for one. He was dressed in dull and sombre clothes, from his gloved hands to his heavy boots, his appearance so unlike the colorful look of the natives she’d seen so far. There was a hard and sour expression on his face, one that couldn’t quite be hidden under the mask of affability he had no doubt put on for her.

“You can go back to your patrol outside, Gerick,” he told the first guard, who nodded and left the room without a word. He turned towards her then and gave her a cold smile. “Welcome to my humble studio, Miss. Sorry about the excessive security, but one can never be too careful. I’m sure you understand. My name is Tva’n, designer of empathic art. And you are…?”

“Rose Tyler. As I told your guard, I saw your work earlier today, and I just had to come see you. I have a proposition for you that I’m sure will –“

“Please, just one thing before we talk business,” he interrupted her with a raised hand. “I would like to hear your opinion on this piece, as the connoisseur that you no doubt are.”

He took out a long, thick chain necklace from his pocket and held it out for her to see. It looked nothing like the delicate designs of the counterfeit jewelry she’d seen earlier, but she put on an approving smile despite her surprise.

“Oh, yes, I do like it. It looks very… commanding.”

“Here, why don’t you try it on – please, I insist,” he added when she started to protest.

She complied and slid it around her neck, puzzled by this odd request. The metal seemed to come to life under her touch, its gleam shining brighter, and Rose frowned. If this was a fake, it was very well done.

“Ah, lovely, just lovely,” Tva’n complimented with a satisfied nod. “And now – no, no, you can keep it on – now we can talk business.”

He looked at her with a slight smirk on his face that he couldn’t seem to suppress, and it deepened Rose’s uneasiness. She had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, but she had no other choice than to stick with her plan. For all she knew, the Doctor had already opened the door without triggering any alarms, and was rescuing his other self at this very moment. She had to keep the two men’s attention on her for as long as she could.

“Great. Here’s my proposition: my native planet doesn’t have that kind of art, and I would like to help you export your products there. I am sure this would –“

The necklace around her neck suddenly flashed mauve, and in a fraction of a second the guard had his weapon trained on her. Rose froze, surprised.

“Terribly sorry, Miss Tyler, but I’m afraid we won’t be becoming partners,” Tva’n sniggered, wicked amusement on his face. “Did you really think we wouldn’t be suspicious of the second humanoid we met today, considering the first almost exposed us to the entire city? I’m not one to let a potentially lucrative opportunity pass me by, though, so I wanted to be certain you weren’t telling the truth. And this is where this neat little trick comes into play.”

He took a step towards her, taking hold of the chain with two fingers. Rose stiffened at his proximity, but the weapon pointed towards her kept her still.

“This is not one of mine, you see – it’s genuine, and very useful, too. You see, it only responds to touch in two ways: it flashes white when the person holding it tells the truth and mauve when they lie. Practically infallible. We used it on your friend, too – that’s how we knew he wasn’t alone. He didn’t –“

A loud alarm started blaring inside the building, and the two men started at the noise, looking away from her for a moment.

A moment was all she needed.

In the blink of an eye she had the Ethynian blaster out of her pocket and was pressing down on the trigger. There was no sound, only a sort of sudden pressure weighing down on her head and making her wince. The two men seemed to have it worse, however: they had recoiled away from her, their hands raised up to their heads in an attempt to protect themselves. They wobbled for a few seconds, hunched over, before finally collapsing on the floor, unconscious

Rose leaned against the wall, struggling to catch her breath. The Doctor had mentioned that this was a directional weapon, but no doubt the sound wave had rebounded off the walls of the small room. She hadn’t taken the brunt of the blast, but it had certainly been enough to make her dizzy. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she tried to compose herself. The alarm was still blaring, the sound somewhat dimmer in her ears now. There was no doubt that the first guard, the one who had returned to the front door, was hearing it too and would be here soon. She needed to be ready for him, but she wasn’t sure if she could take another indirect hit from the blaster.

She heard the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer and she pushed herself off the wall with a groan. She stood facing the doorway, the blaster held up in a shaky grip, but the face she saw appearing through the door made her shoulders slump in relief.

“Rose!”

The Doctor hurried to her and looped an arm around her waist, supporting her as her unsteady legs almost gave out. “Are you alright? I thought you were going to distract them outside, not …” He trailed off, looking around at the limp bodies on the floor and at the blaster hanging loosely in her hand. Concern filled his gaze as he lifted it back to hers. “Did you use that in here?”

“Yeah,” she answered shakily. “The sound wave must have… bounced off the walls – I didn’t think…”

“Oh, Rose, I’m sorry. I should have warned you. Here, just rest for a bit,” he said as he wrapped his other arm around her, tugging her closer until her forehead rested against his chest. “How’s your head?”

“Getting better,” she mumbled into his coat, the sound of his heartbeats and the smell of him filling her senses and soothing her dizziness away. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling herself melt in his embrace. One of his hands started to stroke a lazy path up and down her back, and she sighed in contentment.

“Boss? What’s going on? Everything alright?”

The shout originating from the direction of the front door brought her back to her senses. The alarm was still blaring inside the building, and the other guard would soon be upon them. The Doctor released her from his embrace, his eyes hard and determined.

“Just wait here. I’ll bear it better than you,” he told her, taking the blaster from her hand.

She wanted to protest but she knew he was right. She stood and watched as he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. She waited in suspense as the sound of running could be heard approaching, followed by the crash of a door being wrenched open, a shout of surprise, and then… nothing.

After a few seconds of agonizing silence she ran to the door and threw it open to see the Doctor standing a few meters away, his back to her, the body of the second guard lying unconscious on the floor in front of him. As he turned to face her he seemed to sway slightly on his feet, and it was her turn to rush to him.

“Doctor!”

She looped an arm around his waist as he wrapped one around her shoulders. He leaned against her for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut, before looking down at her with an unsteady smile.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I hadn’t used one of these in a while, I’d forgotten how powerful they were. Sorry, just… give me a moment.”

She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. She knew it was neither the time nor the place, but she couldn’t help it – having his arms around her for the second time in mere minutes was making her heart flutter and her breath catch in her throat. She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the color blooming on her cheeks.

They were both silent for a moment before he straightened up. She made to step away, but his hand drifted down to intertwine with hers, keeping her close.

“Let’s find my idiot of a future self before these three regain consciousness, shall we?”

“That’s a good plan,” she chuckled softly. “And I think I know where he might be: there’s a door with a key pad in the next room, and that’s where Tva’n and the other guard were when I first walked in. My bet is that’s where he is. They mentioned something about how they knew he wasn’t alone – they must have gotten it out of him before coming to meet me.”

“Yes, that seems likely. Let’s have a look.”

They walked back to the room they had just left, stepping over the bodies of the two men still unconscious on the floor to reach the heavy door she had noticed earlier.

Rose tried the door handle, not at all surprised when it didn’t budge – it was very likely that it needed the correct sequence of numbers inputted on the pad in order to open. She raised an eyebrow in the Doctor’s direction and he smiled, twirling the sonic between his fingers.

“Child’s play.”

He adjusted its settings and held it up to the pad, and seconds later the door unlocked with a small click. They share a look of anticipation before Rose pushed the door open, carefully looking over the threshold.

This was no doubt the room where Tva’n made his counterfeit pieces – it was large and filled with crates, its walls and counters lined with schematics and glowing chemicals. And in the middle of it all…

In the middle was her Doctor, blindfolded and gagged, sitting with his hands bound behind the back of a chair and his ankles tied to each leg.

“Doctor!”

In a second she was at his side, the blindfold slipped off his head and the gag removed from his mouth. He blinked up at her in surprise before a wide smile slowly spread over his face.

“Hello!”

“Hi!” she chuckled.

“Rose Tyler. I knew I could count on you! You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“Save the compliments for later, we still have to get out of here,” she answered, smiling brightly despite her words of warning. She lowered her gaze to his restraints, which were made of a material similar to a rope but that looked much stronger, and she frowned.

“Doctor, do you think the sonic can cut through this?”

“Yeah, it should work. If you look in my right pocket, you should –“

“Hmm, this looks like reinforced Xercanium rope. Yes, setting 211A should do the trick nicely, I think.”

The Doctor tied to the chair cut himself off abruptly when he realized there was a second voice answering Rose’s question. He looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes and she answered with a sheepish smile, stepping aside so he could see his past self, fiddling with his sonic a few steps behind her.

“You! What are you doing here?”

“I believe the words you are looking for are thank you,” retorted the other with a mocking bow as he approached. “In which case, please don’t mention it. It was the least I could do – or, well, there‘s nothing else to do, really, when my future self is being so foolish.”

“You – you –“

The Doctor on the chair sputtered as the other knelt in front of him and set to work on the bindings around his legs.

“Stop moving so much, will you? Unless you want me to cut through your trousers at the same time.”

“Doctor, behave”, Rose chided, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “Both of you,” she added pointedly when they both looked at her with similar expression of protest. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, watching as the Doctor on the chair glared in silence at the one kneeling in front of him.

She was distracted a few seconds later by a small noise coming from the other room, and she moved back to the doorway to investigate. Both men were still lying on the floor, but the guard had turned on his back, holding his hands to his head as he groaned feebly.

“They’re waking up! We have to hurry!” Rose called back in alarm.

The rope around the Doctor’s legs had fallen apart and the other Doctor had started working on the on binding his wrists, but at her warning he straightened up with a smirk.

“Right. Sorry, old chap, no time for the hands. We have to run!” he said, already moving towards the door.

“Hey, wait! Come back here!” the Doctor protested as he stood up awkwardly, his hands tied behind his back restraining his movements, but the other had already caught up with Rose. He watched with more than a little annoyance as his past self grabbed her hand with a familiarity he should by no means have and tugged her forward.

‘Doctor, come on!” Rose called behind her shoulder, finally prompting him to move.

They dashed down the corridor, and the Doctor’s jaw clenched as he saw his past self lean in to whisper something in Rose’s ear. Her answering laughter, which was usually one of his favorite sounds in the world, set something stirring unpleasantly inside him. Somehow, he had the feeling that the sooner his past self left, the better.

She perused the shops as she walked, looking with curiosity at the strange, sweet-smelling food, at the eclectic works of art on display, at the clothes, loose and colorful like the natives favoured. The Doctor had left her some local money, and she was eager to spend it, but there were so many interesting things that she couldn’t really settle on anything. Then her eyes landed on some jewelry, made of a metal quite unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She lightly ran her fingers over the ornaments and it was as though they were responding to her touch – some vibrating with a strange chime, others shining in various colors or patterns. They were all different, and all equally fascinating.

She finally settled on one, a necklace with a gem that glowed in a beautiful golden light whenever it touched her skin. The vendor congratulated her on her choice with an obsequious smile, but his expression soured when she offered him the coins the Doctor had given her, turning instantly into one of hostile suspicion.

“What are you trying to pull? I’ve never seen money like this before. I certainly won’t let you pay with it. You thought I was some gullible fool that you could trick with false currency, is that it?”

“No! I – I’m sorry, I thought…” she stammered, the colour rising in her cheeks. “My friend gave me these, he must have made a mistake. I’ll go find him and I’ll come back right away, I swear. Just keep that necklace aside for me, alright?”

The vendor only narrowed his eyes in distrust, scowling as he watched her hurry out of his shop. She hastened away, putting enough distance between her and the shop to ensure that the crowd had engulfed her and screened her from view, before slowing down again.

Well, that had been… particularly unpleasant. Why had the Doctor given her the wrong currency? Had he landed them in the wrong place, or the wrong time? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. Or had he just been too distracted to realize he’d handed her the wrong coins? That… wouldn’t be surprising at all, actually.

She scanned the crowd, searching for familiar spiky brown hair among the alien heads. A good ten minutes had passed since they’d parted ways, so he should be making his way back to her any minute now. Best not to wander too far away looking for him, then. She spotted a bench close by and made her way there to wait.

And wait some more.

The Doctor was over fifteen minutes late, and she was getting sick of sitting around waiting for him. She was itching to get on her feet and do something, but chances were they would just miss each other if she started moving. Or worse, she could get lost in the labyrinth of streets – the market was pretty big, from what she’d seen.

“Doctor, where are you?” she grumbled, annoyed. The glare of the sun seemed to intensify with each passing minute, and the heat was starting to get to her. With the apparently useless currency she carried, she couldn’t even buy anything to quench the thirst she was starting to feel.

She fanned herself with her hand as she considered her options. Maybe she could ask around, see if anyone had seen him. Or she could go back to the TARDIS and wait for him there. She was… almost sure she remembered the way back –

The unmistakable whir of the TARDIS engines froze her in place for a moment. What – He would never leave her here – Why –

She took off running towards the sound, her mind empty of anything except the surge of panic and adrenaline coursing through her. She rushed down the street, heedless of the dense crowd, shouting hasty apologies to the people she jostled along the way. She took a hurried turn, her frenzy reaching a peak as the sound of the engines started to fade before disappearing in the rumble of the crowd.

She slowed to a stop, panting as she surveyed the area around her. The TARDIS was nowhere to be seen, and to add to this she had no idea where she was, the area around her being not the least bit familiar. Well, she thought grimly, if the Doctor had truly left, she would have plenty of time to get acquainted to the place.

But, wait – the area wasn’t the least bit familiar. This wasn’t where they’d landed earlier today. So what had she just heard? If that sound hadn’t been the TARDIS leaving… could it have been the ship materializing, instead?

“Doctor!” she shouted, ignoring the curious stares of the people around her. She waited in silence for a few moments before trying again. “Doctor, where are you? You better not have abandoned on this planet!”

“That would be terribly rude of me, wouldn’t it?”

She whirled around, startled.

There was a man in front of her, dressed like something out of a Jane Austen novel, smiling kindly down at her with polite curiosity. With his green velvet frock coat, silky cravat and long brown curls, he looked as out of place in the middle of a crowd of aliens dressed in vibrant, flowing clothes as she had in her t-shirt and dungaree dress in 1879 Scotland. As she stared at him, his polite expression sharpened into something more, his eyes traveling intently over her as though she was a puzzle he’d love to solve.

“What – Who…” she trailed off. There was something…something she thought she recognized, something in his eyes… But she’d never seen that man before, she was sure of it.

“I’m the Doctor, of course. I believe you were looking for me?”

“You’re the Doctor? But how –”

“Ah, not familiar with the concept of regeneration, are you? I’m afraid that will make any attempt at an explanation rather difficult.”

“No, I – I know about it. Then you’re…”

“Another incarnation, yes. And you are a companion, a future one I would assume, given that I don’t recognize you. It’s strange, however. Your timeline is quite difficult to see. And the rare glimpses I am getting… I’ve never seen one quite so intricately connected with my own. How long have you been traveling with me? ”

“Um… About a year and a half, maybe? It’s hard to tell on the TARDIS, sometimes.”

“Hmmm.”

He ran his hand over his chin as he appraised her, his gaze so penetrating that she averted her eyes, fidgeting under its weight.

“Well, no matter,” he exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands. “So, you are looking for my other self, correct? Can I assume that I, terrible travel companion that I am, left you to your own devices on this strange world and proceeded to go missing somewhere along the way? I can help you find my future self, if you wish.”

“That’d be great!” she answered, brightening up until a doubt crossed her mind. “Although… wouldn’t that be dangerous? Two of you, at the same place and the same time?”

“Oh no, no need to worry. It’s happened before. For someone with all of time and space at my disposal, it’s funny how often I run into myself. I must have some favorite spots, I suppose. But never mind that – as I was saying, there’s no danger at all. Time Lords have the ability to lock away memories until they’re safe to be remembered again. Although I must say, it will be a shame to forget a lovely young lady such as yourself.”

He gave her a small bow and she giggled, a faint blush heating her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been very rude. I haven’t asked you your name yet,” he added as he straightened up.

“It’s Rose. Rose Tyler.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Tyler. Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, and she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, beaming at the chivalrous gesture.

“You know, Resznar is a very interesting world,” he began, turning them around and leading her down the street at a leisurely pace, seeming completely unconcerned with the rushing crowd pressing in around them. “There is a mineral compound found only on this planet that is empathic. It’s rather amazing, really: it has the ability to create light, color and even sound in response to a person’s touch. This reaction varies widely from specimen to specimen, and can mean a multitude of things – it can reflect the person’s emotions, of course, but also their thoughts or personality. The people here have learned how to transform this mineral into a variety of objects – works of art, for example, or even clothes. This is why everyone here is dressed so exuberantly. It is simply mirroring how excited they are about the start of the festival tonight.”

Her eyes widened with wonder as he indicated the natives walking around them with a sweep of his hand.

“Then that explains the jewelry I saw, too. There was a necklace that glowed a beautiful golden color when I touched it. Was that an empathic reflection of me, then?”

“Most definitely. The mineral’s reaction can be difficult to interpret, however. Just like there are craftsman specializing in wielding the mineral, there are people making a career out of reading the stone, if you will.”

Rose nodded, fascinated. She began observing the garments of the aliens walking past them with closer attention, wondering what this splash of color or that swirling pattern meant. Some people scowled at her when they saw her staring and Rose turned towards the Doctor, surprised, when she heard him chuckle.

“It is considered rather rude to examine other people’s projections that closely,” he explained.

“But they are wearing empathic clothes for everyone to see! How can it be rude to look?”

“I never said it was logical, did I? I would imagine it’s just like facial expressions, however – some people you can read that way like an open book. Does that mean you wouldn’t mind if someone started scrutinizing your face for every twitch, every frown and every smile? No, probably not. But anyway, as I mentioned, interpreting the reflections is very difficult for most people.”

“But not for you?” she asked with a teasing grin.

“This goes without question, Rose Tyler. I’m not most people, as you well know.”

“Alright, then. What about her? What does her dress tell you?” she asked, pointing to a passerby wearing a complicated splatter of bright colors.

“Didn’t I just say it was rude to do this?”

“Yes, well, you’re pretty rude in general, aren’t you?”

He gave her a weighted look then raised one eyebrow in amusement.

“Very well. This swatch of color on the front of her dress spell out hope and anticipation mixed in with a healthy drop of nervousness. She is obviously going to meet someone at the festival later tonight, someone she likes but hasn’t confessed to yet, hence her stress. Oh, and see that patch of sombre green by her shoulder? That means she’s rather disappointed with the meal she’s just had – lacked a bit of spice.”

“Oh, come on! Now I know you’re kidding!” she protested, leaning into him as she giggled.

“But am I, really? Are you sure?” he replied, grinning down at her.

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. Someone rushed past her and pushed her into the Doctor, who glared at the person’s retreating back before securing her more firmly against his side. The crowd seemed to be growing thicker by the minute, and this brought back to mind a comment he had made earlier.

“What is this festival you mentioned earlier?”

“Ah, yes. The famed Annual Summer Exhibition. Has my future self not told you about it?” She shook her head, intrigued. “Strange. I thought this was why you two were here. But I suppose he might have been keeping it a surprise, in which case I apologize for letting the metaphorical cat out of the bag.”

“What’s so special about it that he’d keep it a surprise?”

He nudged her out of the throng and into a side street, rummaging in his pockets until he found a bottle of water. He offered it to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly realizing how parched she was. She rested on the wall as she drank, glad to be out of the oppressive press of bodies for a moment.

“It’s quite a remarkable event, really,” he began again when she handed the bottle back to him. “The people here are proud of the culture that has formed around the mineral, and this is a celebration of it. Every year, the capital city is invaded by thousands of people coming to watch the various events – competitions, exhibits, workshops and trade. And of course there is the opening ceremony. Just as there are people who specialize in crafting the mineral, others specialize in mastering the final products, just like musical instruments. Those people learn to modulate their thoughts and emotions at will while in contact with an empathic object and thus creating veritable wonders of light, color and sound. The opening ceremony is a finely tuned performance by some of the best artists in the world.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“It is. And tonight’s event in particular will go down in history as the most extraordinary display this art form has ever produced. I’ve been itching to see it for a long time, but could never quite make myself go. I wanted to save it for a special occasion.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Well, I can only see it once, now, can I? Crossing my own timeline for something like this, as grandiose as it is, is simply too reckless. No, I can only witness this event once, I’m afraid.”

“But then why would he bring me here? My Doctor I mean.” He gave her a sidelong glance, and the fact that she’d just referred to his future self as hers finally registered. She soldiered on, trying to keep the red out of her cheeks. “I mean, didn’t he know you’d be here?”

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? He didn’t know. In order to preserve the timelines I will obviously have to lock away any memory of meeting you here, and therefore of coming here at all. Which means…” He paused, taking the step separating them to grab hold of her hand. He looked down, tracing her knuckles with his thumb. “You must mean a great deal to me in the future for my future self to bring you here, I wouldn’t share this special, treasured bit of space and time with just anyone.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and Rose could only stare at him, transfixed, as his lips lingered on her skin. Their eyes met and held each other, and there was a breathless moment that seemed to stretch on to infinity before he straightened up again. Instead of releasing her hand or tucking it back in the crook of his elbow, however, he took it in his, squeezing it once.

“Ready to go back?” he asked, smiling warmly down at her as he indicated the main street at the end of the alley.

She nodded, not trusting her voice to be steady while he was looking at her like that. This was silly, she thought. This incarnation of his was as good as a stranger to her and would never get the chance to become anything else, and yet she couldn’t help the way she reacted to him. He was a version of the Doctor, after all. And a damn charming one at that.

Shaking off the thought, she followed him through the crowded street, looking at the vendor stalls around them with renewed interest, now that she understood how special their merchandise was. She was really looking forward to the opening ceremony tonight, too. A once in a lifetime event, if the Doctor was to be believed. Which reminded her…

“What about you? What’s the special occasion that made you decide to finally come here today?”

He stiffened, though he tried to hide his reaction to her words. He was silent for a long moment, and Rose was about to apologize for asking what now appeared to be too personal a question when he finally spoke, in a voice so low she had to strain to hear him.

“Something rather unpleasant awaits me very soon, something I did not think I would survive. So I thought it was now or never – a dying man’s last wish, if you will. But then, meeting you here… it brings me hope. Hope that I have a future, that there is something for me beyond this veil of darkness that is my future.”

His last words were hushed, and if she didn’t know any better she would say almost fearful. She looked at him, speechless. He was staring straight ahead, his brow drawn and his jaw clenched, but then in an instant his features transformed into a look of excitement as he flashed her a quick smile.

“Look, I wonder what’s happening over there!” he exclaimed, pointing to a gathering of people on the side of the street and tugging her towards it without waiting for a response.

It was a street performer, creating a melody using a series of humming empathic statuettes. It was lovely, and they watched in silence as the people around them oohed and aahed.

Rose knew the Doctor well enough to recognize this sudden change as a deflection, a way to avoid further discussion on an unwelcome subject. In this, he wasn’t any different from his future regenerations. And just like with his future selves, she would respect his desire and wouldn’t pry any further. She couldn’t help but wonder, though.

She didn’t know which incarnation this Doctor was. In the weeks following his regeneration, she had naturally had many questions to ask him, some he answered good-naturedly and others… not. But he had told her that this was now his tenth body. She had gathered, from what he let slip and what he kept tightly bottled up, that the first one she had met, his ninth body, had been born at the end of the Time War, into the pain and guilt and loneliness that had followed. He had not been the regeneration that had fought it, however.

Could this be the one that did, then? Could this warm, kind version of him be the one to fight through the horrors of the war?

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest at the thought. She glanced at him to see that his face had settled back into a frown as he stared at the street performer, all trace of his previous excitement gone. Sensing her watching him, he tilted his head towards her, and she squeezed his hand in silent comfort. For a moment his eyes shut in something close to pain, but when he opened them again the burden in them had lessened. He gave her a small nod of thanks, and they turned back to watch the artist’s performance in silence.

When it was over Rose tugged on the Doctor’s hand, and they walked away as people around them cheered. She led him among the stalls, exaggerating her enthusiasm as she stopped to examine and comment on the items she saw. The Doctor joined in her exclamations, visibly forcing himself at first, but by the time they reached a shop selling empathic hats and Rose started trying on the most ridiculous ones, they were both laughing with genuine amusement.

They wandered among the kiosks for a while, their original goal of finding her current Doctor seemingly all but forgotten. They ran around the market exclaiming over the things they saw, rushing from one stall to the next and not caring in the least about the curious looks they were attracting. The Doctor rambled on about the history of the planet, the discovery of the mineral and some of its most infamous uses, and Rose couldn’t keep the amused smile that was slowly forming on her face. She giggled in the middle of a completely non-humoristic account of how the world will run out of mineral once it becomes over-exploited in the planet’s recent future, and he stopped, a mock affronted look on his face.

“Something funny, Miss Tyler?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” she said, her apology marred by the fact that she was still chuckling, looking far from repentant. “It’s just… you sound so much like… well, like you. The other versions of you I know. Sure, you’re different, just like they were different from each other, too, but at the same time… You know, sometimes I think a big part of the reason why you take on companion is to have someone that will listen to you when you let out all of that knowledge in that big Time Lord brain of yours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you, Rose, with all of this tedious knowledge?”

“No! No, that’s not what I meant! I enjoy listening to you!” she protested, laughing.

“Of course you do. Though I couldn’t blame you if my future selves have bored you on occasion. If they’re anything like my past ones – of which I have no doubt – then they never know when to shut up, the pompous, long-winded, self-important old geezers…”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste, and Rose beamed at him in amusement.

“Not a fan of yourself, I take it?”

“I like myself just fine, Rose Tyler. Best incarnation there is, yet.”

He winked at her and she giggled, her tongue poking teasingly out of the corner of her lips. For just an instant his eyes drifted to it, and she felt a strange swooping sensation at the sight. When he dragged his gaze back to hers she could have sworn that there was a faint flush on his cheeks. He averted his eyes, clearing his throat as he did so, and tugged on her hand to get them moving again.

She let herself be pulled away, trying to get her pounding heart under control. There was nothing to be done – against all instincts of self-preservation she had, she was well on her way to falling for this Doctor, as well. Any body, any face he wore, she seemed to be powerless to resist him. This amazing, wonderful, silly alien had stolen her heart a while ago, and now it was his, whichever version of himself he happened to be.

It was probably selfish of her, but she wished she could get to know all of his incarnations. She wished she could have been with him from the beginning and stay with him until the end. At the very least, she wished she could get to know this version of him better. She would spend her days trying to see that flush on his cheeks again.

She was following the Doctor down the street, lost in her musings, when she became aware of an insistent gaze trained on her. She scanned the crowd, feeling uneasy, until her eyes fell on a merchant standing beside his wares, eyeing her with mistrust.

She froze for an instant, her back stiffening as she recognized him. The jewelry vendor from before. And from the looks of it, his opinion of her hadn’t improved in the time that had passed since she’d left his shop.

Feeling herself flush with embarrassment, she looked away, trying not to let it bother her. The Doctor had felt the stutter in her steps, however, and stopped her with a look of concern.

“What is it? Something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing. Just…”

Her eyes darted against her will to the merchant still staring at her, and the Doctor followed her gaze with a frown.

“Rose, why is that man glaring at you like you are a villain plotting his downfall?”

She bit her lip, shuffling on her feet before sighing in resignation. The whole thing was just so ridiculous.

“Well… future you had left in search of some parts for the TARDIS, and I was just having a look around when I saw this really gorgeous necklace. You’d left me some money, but when I tried to pay it turns out you’d given me the wrong type of currency. I don’t think the merchant believed me when I said it was a mistake – he probably thinks I was trying to steal from him.”

“Hmmm.”

The Doctor hummed pensively, his eyes narrowed at the man who had turned away to help another customer.

“Doctor, it’s alright, it doesn’t matter. Just let it drop,” she protested, tugging on his hand to drag him away.

He resisted her attempts, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Nonsense, Rose. It was my future self’s negligence that put you in this situation, it’s only natural that I should put things right again.”

He strode towards the stall, Rose having no other choice but to keep up with him. The merchant saw them approach and looked at Rose with mistrust, but one glance at the Doctor and his expression changed into one of grovelling servility.

“Ah, dear lady, so you found your friend! You came back for the necklace?”

“Yes, yes, she found me, here I am! I’m so sorry, silly me, we’ve been travelling so much that I got the currency confused. You can understand, I’m sure. Rose, what exactly did you try to pay with?”

She handed him the coins, and his eyebrows flew up in exaggerated astonishment.

“Oh dear, it’s a good thing for us the transaction was denied. Taking the exchange rate into consideration, these are worth quite a good deal more than anything we could buy in this shop.”

He pocketed the alien money with a benign smile thrown in the merchant’s direction, whose eyes had bulged out in shock – and most likely in regret, as well.

“Now, will you kindly get the lady’s necklace?”

The man nodded and walked away to fetch it, and Rose used that opportunity to lean in close to the Doctor.

“Are those coins really worth that much, Doctor?” she whispered.

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen their kind before. I don’t even know what planet they’re from.”

Rose shook her head at him in amusement, but the merchant coming back with a small jewelry box prevented her from saying anything else. The disgruntled look of the vendor as the Doctor pocketed the alien coins and handed him some plain, old Resznar money instead had Rose biting her lips to suppress her laughter.

Now that she knew the empathic nature of the necklace, she was eager to try it on again and see how it would react to her touch this time. If its glow had been a reflection of her emotions, there was no way the gem would react the same way –she’d definitely gone through a whole spectrum of them since the last time she’d touched it

“Allow me,” said a smooth voice next to her, startling her from her contemplation.

She nodded, and the Doctor took the chain from her hands, stepping behind her to fasten the clasp. His fingers brushed the gem as he did so, and for a moment it glowed a gorgeous cerulean blue color that stole her breath away.

“There, all done.”

The Doctor walked back to face her, but the moment his eyes lighted on the gem he froze. It had changed again when it touched the skin of her collarbone, and it was now shining in the same golden color as before. The Doctor stood staring at it, seemingly spellbound.

Her hand went up to touch the pendant, worried.

“What is it, Doctor? Something wrong with the necklace?”

“No, it’s…” His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat before beginning again. “It’s beautiful, that’s all.”

He raised his eyes back to hers, and she was startled to see the intensity in them. It seemed as though they were piercing through her and looking into her soul.

He reached a tentative hand forward and she watched, breathless, as it stopped a hair’s breadth away from the gem. She dropped her own hand in silent permission, and he swallowed thickly before slowly closing the gap, stroking the pendant with the tip of his fingers.

For a moment the gem seemed to pulsate, wavering, and then the same gorgeous blue color erupted in its center, swirling in perfect harmony with the golden glow. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen, and though she didn’t understand the meaning behind it, the sight of it made her heart feel so full that it almost ached.

She dragged her gaze back to the Doctor. He was still staring at the pendant, his eyes dark and full of a storm of emotions she couldn’t begin to read. She watched him for a moment, barely daring to breathe in fear of breaking the spell he seemed to be under, but then his gaze snapped up to hers. In the blink of an eye he had dropped his hand and backed a few steps away, looking anywhere but her.

“Yes, very good. Excellent purchase,” he said, his voice strained, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Now how about we – hold on, what’s this?”

Still reeling from what had just happened and the way it suddenly ended, Rose could only blink in confusion. The Doctor was frowning at a display of very expensive-looking pieces of empathic jewelry in a section of the store. The merchant hurried over when he saw him looking, an obsequious smile on his face.

“Ah yes, the gentleman has a good eye. These are my newest arrivals. They were created by an up-and-coming artist who’s been all the rage recently. I was lucky enough to snatch up a few of his products. You can see for yourself how good his designs are.”

“Yes, well, what I can see is that they are most certainly fake. These were not made from real empathic mineral, no doubt about it. Oh, the imitation is admittedly convincing enough for most people, but I am not most people.” He picked up a bracelet that flashed a bright green under his touch, dangling it in front of his eyes for a moment. “Yes, as I thought, these are coated with a chemical substance that is designed to respond to touch in a pre-determined way. It will look just like the real empathic mineral to untrained eyes, except for the fact that this substance will fade away in time, and then I suspect you will have very angry customers on your hands.”

The shock on the merchant’s face seemed genuine.

“Are – are you sure? How do you know...?”

“Quite sure. The residual smell is very distinctive to my superior olfactory system, I’m afraid.”

The other man snatched the bracelet from the Doctor’s grip and sniffed it, his face darkening into a scowl.

“Then he tricked me – he tricked all of us, the good-for-nothing scum!”

“Who is? Where does this merchandise come from?”

“From a stranger who moved here only a few weeks ago. None of us knew anything about him, but his products were so popular... We didn’t question it. He made fools out of all of us. I won’t stand for it! Wait till the other merchants hear this. We have a reputation to maintain, you know?”

“Where can we find him?” asked Rose, stepping forward to join in on the conversation. “Maybe we should pay him a visit, Doctor. Because I’m thinking, what if the other you noticed the same thing, and decided to track it down to the source…”

“Yes, you’re right, that does sound like something I’d do.”

The merchant frowned at the words the other you, but he shrugged, deeming it unimportant.

“Well, I can tell you where his art studio is, though I have to tell you, it’s pretty well guarded. We all thought he was just bit paranoid, or just a bit crazy, but…”

“…Maybe he was preparing against another type of eventuality, like an angry horde of shop vendors discovering he’s been tricking them. You’re right, Rose, I think it would be most interesting to see this studio for ourselves.”

“You do what you want. As for me, I’m going to start passing the word around and make sure no one sells that stuff from now on, and then I’ll contact the authorities. If you want to find him, go down that street until you reach the fountain, then turn right and take a left right after. There will be a large building surrounded by a high fence, you can’t miss it.” Rose and the Doctor nodded in thanks and were turning to leave when he called after them again. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’m – I’m sorry about earlier, Miss. I was… pretty rude.”

“That’s alright,” Rose assured him, beaming cheerfully. “I can understand your reaction. And I’m used to rudeness, anyway.”

The Doctor sent her a sidelong glance as they walked away from the stall, and Rose grinned at his expression.

“Was that last remark meant for me?”

“Well, if the shoe fits…” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she giggled. “Though if it’s any consolation, you’re much less rude than your current incarnation. I thought for sure you were going to chew that merchant out when you strode in there.”

“Part of me wanted to, I have to admit, but… he’d done nothing wrong, after all. Being suspicious of strange currency is a question of survival for merchants.”

“I know. Still, I was amazed by your self-restraint.”

He let out a strained chuckle, his eyes darting down to the necklace around her neck before looking away again. Rose’s breath hitched when she noticed the faint blush that had reappeared on his cheeks, or the way he ran a hand through his curls again. She still wasn’t sure what had happened back at the shop, what either the golden or the blue color meant, and why the Doctor had reacted to them so strongly, but…

There had been something in his eyes back then, something that looked very much like longing. The way he’d so slowly reached out to touch the gem… like he had to touch it, like he couldn’t help himself. And then the way he’d looked at her… Was it a sudden sense of self-restraint that had caused him to jump away from her as though she’d burned him?

She shook her head with a sigh. It was pointless to wonder about this. They were going to find her current Doctor, and after that this version of him would make himself forget about her and leave. So no matter how much she… And even though she wished she could…

“Well, when I found her, Rose didn’t tell me… and then we got caught up in this big mess with the Drazfins… But never mind that, how did you even know we were here, anyway?”

Her head snaps back to him, and he can tell by the expression on her face that she hadn’t been done, and that it had been a mistake to speak.

“Well, that’s another thing, isn’t it? After days of worry, we get a call from UNIT telling us about a strange man in a blue box appearing out of thin air, dropping off an unconscious man in the arms of a baffled nurse before waltzing off again without any explanation. The description didn’t match the pinstripe you, but we knew it was you, and no mistake. The moment I heard, I could tell that’s where Rose had disappeared to, swept away by you as usual, and that if you two were still on Earth this is where you would be. Seems like I was right. So tell me: what the hell were you thinking?”

She’s backed him all the way to the console when her tirade runs to an end, glaring at him as she waits for his explanation. Despite the fact that he’s in his own ship, that he’s hundreds of years older and wiser, and therefore doesn’t need to justify himself to anyone… despite all of that he’s almost rendered speechless by the petite woman in front of him.

“Look, it’s not what you think, I’m not –”

Rose walks into the console room, groggy from sleep, her hair messy and her eyes only half-open, and he freezes again.

“Doctor? I felt the TARDIS move, what’s happening? Why did we – Mum!” She stops dead in her tracks as the sight in front of her finally registers into her suddenly very much awake mind.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Jackie exclaims, rushing off to take her into her arms. “I’m terribly mad at you too, mind you, but that can wait. For now, I’m just happy to see my daughter again!”

“I – yeah, me too, Mum,” she replies as she returns the embrace, though her eyes search for the Doctor’s, a puzzled frown on her face. “But how come you’re here? Doctor, where are we?”

“In your flat, in London.” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling rather embarrassed about the whole thing. Maybe he should have waited for her to wake up, after all. “I was wrong before, you see. It wasn’t just the Drazfin homeworld wearing on the old girl. The very essence of this universe is wrong for her, and the time vortex was only making it worse. We had to land somewhere, so I decided to come here, to let you…”

Say goodbye to your family is the end of his sentence, but one look at her mother, her hands still on her daughter’s shoulders as they both listen to him, makes him bite the words back. Rose seems to understand his meaning, though, a saddened look appearing in her eyes for a second before she can hide it away.

He knows it’s there, though. Today, Rose has to say goodbye to her family possibly forever, and he’s the cause. Truly, he deserved that slap.

“Alright, well, we were going to come home anyway, so I guess it’s fine,” Rose replies with a cheerfulness he knows is fake. “Next question, then – when are we?”

“A few days after we met, after the Drazfins…” he trails off and clears his throat awkwardly. He’s not sure he wants to mention the fact that she was stunned and kidnapped in front of her already irate mother. “…After all of us have left for the Drazfin homeworld. Rose, I’m sorry, but we couldn’t come back sooner. It would have been too dangerous.”

He’s relieved to see her nod in understanding, and he’s reminded of the fact that she’s no novice when it comes to life aboard the TARDIS. She’s traveled with him before. She knows the risks of time travel, the dangers of crossing your own timeline.

“What’s he talking about? What would have been too dangerous? Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

Rose turns her attention back to her mother, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance before stepping out of her embrace.

“Everything’s fine, Mum, don’t worry. Here, come on, why don’t we go and sit down?”

She leads her towards the doors of the ship, pausing at the threshold to turn back towards him.

“Doctor, would you mind making a pot of tea?”

“And none of those weird alien blends, too,” Jackie demands, the glare firmly back on her face as she looks at him over her shoulder. “I want some nice old-fashioned Earl Grey. Do you think you can manage to drink something that normal?”

He nods in wary agreement, knowing better than replying that he is able to enjoy a cup of Earl Grey as much as the next Englishmen, thank you very much, and that the blend he has aboard the TARDIS is probably better than any she’s ever tried.

Rose giggles, no doubt amused by his reaction to her mother, and as they are passing out into her living room he hears her whisper: “Mum! You’re scaring him half to death!”

Her mother’s reply is too low for him to hear, but it makes Rose laugh again, and he shakes his head with a mix of exasperation and fondness. He turns towards the galley, running his hand nervously through his hair even as a small smile forms on his lips.

What has he gotten himself into?

“So he’s back, uh?”

They’ve been sitting on the couch in silence for a few moments, Rose mulling over what she should or shouldn’t reveal to her Mum when the words, spoken in an uncharacteristically low and almost expressionless voice, bring her out of her thoughts. She looks at the woman sitting next to her, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes firmly fixed on the floor, and she feels her heart clench painfully.

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly.

“And you’re leaving with him?”

“Yeah.”

Jackie nods, blinking rapidly to stop herself from crying. Rose’s mouth twists down at the sight, her eyes prickly unshed tears.

“Eh now, none of that,” her mother says with a shaky smile. “This is not a sad moment, alright? I’m happy for you, love.”

“Oh, Mum.”

She throws her arms around her mother as a few tears begin to spill out of her eyes.

“I want you to be happy, Rose, and I know you haven’t been, not since you got stuck here. So if he can make you happy, then of course you have to go. Do you think he can, though?”

“Yeah. He definitely can. He already has.”

“Good.”

She gives her a kiss on the forehead before pulling back from the hug.

“So, looks like it wasn’t that impossible for him to find a way back after all!” she exclaims in a cheerful voice, deliberately ignoring the tear tracks on both of their cheeks. “The thing I want to know, though, is what’s taken him so long?”

Rose leans back on the couch, letting out a small chuckle as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Well, Mum, you’ll never believe me when I tell you this, but he hasn’t really found a way back.”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t the Doctor we knew. He’s a past incarnation, before even the first leather-jacketed version of him we knew.”

“No, really?” She pauses to consider this, her eyes wide. “Blimey, that’s really something. It’s never simple with him, is it? But wait, how does he know who you are, then?”

“He didn’t, when we first met. He saw my TARDIS key and realized that I was a future companion, but that was all. We… got to know each other a bit since then, though. It’s been a few weeks for me since that Torchwood mission. We were busy helping the Drazfins find a cure for the disease that was killing off their entire population.”

Jackie nods distractedly along, the details of her adventures not as interesting to her as the complicated relationship of her daughter and the Time Lord.

“He’ll bring you back to the future him, then? The gangly one in pinstripes?”

“Um… yeah, he will,” Rose answers after a moment of hesitation. It’s not a lie, not really. He will have to bring her back at some point. And she’s not sure that the extent of her relationship with this Doctor is something she really wants to discuss with her mother.

“That’s a shame,” she deadpans. “He’s rather dapper, that one. Has more meat on him than the previous one, I can tell, even under all those clothes. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have him instead?”

“Mum!”

“He’d like that too, I’m telling you. He may have only known you for a few weeks, but he’s already head over heels for you, just like the other two were. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“Mum, stop it!” she laughs, embarrassed.

“And you were looking at him the same way, don’t try to deny it! I’d have to be blind to have missed it!”

Rose lowers her head to hide her face into her hands, before mumbling something into her palms.

“What was that, love?”

“I said, I’m not denying it, alright?” she repeats as she lowers her hands, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Jackie smiles triumphantly at her.

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS carrying a tray with three mugs, a saucer of milk and a cup of sugar, and Rose groans as her mother’s smirk settles on him.

“I wasn’t sure how you took your tea, so I brought milk and sugar – don’t worry, both of entirely earthly origin,” he says as he deposits the tray on the table in front of them, his last remark clearly directed at Jackie. When he straightens up his eyes flit to Rose, and he finally notices the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. A glance at Jackie reveals that she has been crying, as well, and a pained look of understanding crosses his face.

“She’s fine,” Jackie replies before Rose has the time to answer. “Actually, I was just telling Rose that – ”

“Come on, Mum, the Doctor doesn’t want to hear about that,” Rose cuts off quickly. “It’s nothing, just a little chat between mother and daughter. And that reminds me, I haven’t officially introduced you yet – Doctor, this is my mum, Jackie Tyler.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he nods politely before raising a hand to his wounded cheek. “Although the pleasure would have been greater had it not been for that slap.”

“I’m sure you deserved it, one way or another,” Jackie retorts. “If not now, then in the future, and I won’t be there to give you one then, will I?”

He gives a sad smile in response, and Rose sighs inwardly as she sees the guilt in his eyes, the expression familiar to her by now. She knows he thinks he is to blame for taking her away from her family, and she knows it’s useless to try and convince him otherwise. This isn’t his fault, though. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be her.

A chime breaks the sudden tension in the room, and she watches her mother fish out her cell phone from her coat pocket.

“Oh, that must be Pete!” she exclaims. “I promised I’d call to let him know whether or not you were here. Hang on – Hello?”

As her mother answers the phone the Doctor fixes himself a cup of tea and settles down on the armchair in the corner of the living room. Rose tries to catch his eyes but he evades her, pretending to be engrossed in the examination of the books scattered on the table next to him. She’s not fooled, though. She’s had enough experience with his future selves avoiding something they don’t want to discuss to know he’s doing the same.

“Well, I don’t know, I didn’t ask.” Her mother’s voice snaps her attention back to her. “You should just talk to her yourself. Wait a second, I’ll put her on – Pete wants a word, darling,” she says, handing her the phone.

She grabs it and brings it up to her ear reluctantly. She’d known she’d have to deal with Torchwood sooner or later, but in all honesty, she could do without this responsibility at the moment. They’re going to have a lot of questions, and she’s not sure she knows how to answer them all.

“Ok, tell everyone I’ll be there soon – Yes – OK, I’ll ask – Sure, I’ll tell Mum – Bye.”

Rose hangs up the phone with a sigh. While Pete is happy to know that she is safe and healthy, it is very clear to her that he is not so pleased with the crisis he’s had to deal with in the past few days. A Torchwood team engaging the enemy in broad daylight during what was only supposed to be a recon mission, public sightings of an alien ship in the sky outside London, a missing hostage and a vanished agent… Then to top it all off, said hostage reappears at UNIT, of all places, carried by a strange man out of a blue box that materialized out of thin air, and which looks barely large enough to contain the both of them…

Really, Rose has no choice but to go to Torchwood and help him sort things out. It’s the least she can do, considering she’ll be leaving him in the lurch very soon afterwards.

“Mum, I have to get to the office,” she declares, turning towards her mother and handing the phone back to her. “There are a lot of things that need to be dealt with. Pete said not to wait for him tonight. He’ll most likely work until very late, too.”

“But – I thought… I thought we’d all have dinner,” Jackie answers, a disappointed frown on her face. “A family meal would be nice, since you probably won’t be here for much longer… Do you know when…?”

“No, we haven’t discussed it yet… Doctor?”

“Oh, we’re in no hurry. We can easily manage a few days, at least.” He smiles easily as he answers, but she can see the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes flit quickly towards the ship.

“Are you sure?” she asks uneasily. “Will the TARDIS be alright? Didn’t you say – ”

“She’ll be just fine for a few days. We just have to spare her any more jumps, that’s all.”

“Alright then,” she relents after a moment of hesitation. She’s still not convinced, but it’s clear to her that she’s not going to get more out of him for now. “Well, Mum, here’s your answer. We have some time still. I’ll come and spend the day tomorrow with you and Tony, but first I need to settle everything else. I’ll see you in the morning, OK?”

Jackie nods, satisfied, and rises from the couch.

“Fine, but I’d better see you fresh and early for breakfast. And you, you’re coming for dinner tomorrow evening, and no excuses” she orders, pointing a threatening finger at the Doctor. He raises his hands in surrender, and after narrowing her eyes at him she turns back to hug her daughter goodbye. “See you later, then, love. And good luck at work. Give Pete a kiss for me, alright?”

“Will do, Mum. Love you.”

Jackie walks out of the flat, and silence descends upon the room for a moment before Rose turns back to look at the Doctor. His face is a neutral mask as he watches her from his seat, but she knows what’s on his mind as plainly as if he had shouted it to her.

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. You’re blaming yourself for taking me away from my family, but Doctor, that’s my choice to make. I wouldn’t be happy here, without you – I haven’t been happy here without you. If anyone should feel guilty for anything, it’s me.”

She closes her eyes, feeling drained at the thought of having this argument again. She’s only been awake for a short time, and the day is already wearing on her. There has been this dull pain in her head ever since she woke up, and the prospect of everything that’s awaiting her at Torchwood is not helping her feel better in the least.

His hand on her cheek startles her from her unpleasant thoughts. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“How is your head?” he asks in a gentle voice, lightly stroking her temple with his thumb. She wants to scowl at him for avoiding answering her, but finds herself unable to resist the gentleness of his touch as she leans into his hand.

“It’s been hurting ever since I woke up. But how did you know…?”

“What you did yesterday, it was bound to put some strain on your mind. It’s only natural for it to be a tad sensitive this morning. It should improve within a few hours, but I would advise against any use of telepathy for the time being, to avoid putting additional stress on your mind.”

“Okay.”

He removes his fingers from her temple to wrap his arms around her, and she buries her head in his chest with a sigh. This past day hasn’t been anything like she’d thought their reunion would go, once he returned from his mission with Czif. She had thought there would be less clothes involved, for one. Instead the moment they were alone he became concerned about her newly improved telepathy, which led to the discovery that the energy was still actively changing her, resulting in him teaching her how to get reacquainted with her transformed mind, during which training she had apparently lost consciousness. And now she wakes up to this…

She wishes they could send the TARDIS back inside the vortex and blissfully ignore the world for a while, but obviously that’s not possible, not with the TARDIS in that state. Therefore there is nothing left to do but face the music.

“I have to go,” she says reluctantly, pulling back from his embrace. “They’ll be waiting for me.”

“Yes, you said you had to go to the office. What office is this, exactly?”

“Torchwood, of course – Oh, right,” she interrupts herself when she sees the lack of understanding in his eyes. “I never told you about Torchwood, did I? It’s where I work.”

“And your boss is mad because you disappeared for a few days?”

“Well, that’s not entirely wrong,” she answers with a small laugh. At his confused look, she adds, “My boss is Pete, my parallel-universe dad. And while he’s happy that I’m alive and well, I did cause quite a bit of trouble by vanishing during a mission.”

“A mission?”

“Yeah. Torchwood is an organization that makes it its goal to protect the Earth from any unusual threat – which very often means alien in origin. It was created after the Cybermen invasion that future you and I helped stop. I told you about that, remember?” He nods thoughtfully, and she continues. “Anyway, when I got stuck here, I joined them. My team and I were investigating reports of strange disturbances when we met in that warehouse.”

“That sounds… like a very dangerous way to earn a living,” he states, frowning. Rose can’t help but giggle at his words, earning her a puzzled look.

“What, and your lifestyle is so much safer?” He shakes his head with a wry smile, conceding her point, and she grins at him teasingly. “What can I say, traveling with you got me hooked on the adrenaline. Anything else just sounds incredibly dull to me, now.”

“I’ll have to keep an eye out for you then, young lady. You might get us into all kinds of trouble.”

“Like you don’t go looking for it on your own,” she retorts, and he chuckles in response.

Rose beams at him, her heart feeling much lighter than it was a few minutes ago. Us, he’s said. She knows it’s not accidental – it’s an admission that he’s heard her words earlier and that he’s accepted them. He won’t leave her behind.

She bounces up to him and leans forward to give him a quick kiss, but he catches her by the elbow before she can retreat, lowering his head to capture her lips with an intensity that has her melting against him in an instant. She’s breathless when she finally forces herself to break away.

“I really do have to go,” she pleads, feeling a mounting frustration at having to restrain herself once more from just pinning him against a wall and having her way with him. “Pete called a meeting with all the higher-ups to give me a chance to clear up what happened with the Drazfins and to announce my resignation at the same time.”

She is surprised by the twinge of sadness she feels at the thought. For a long time, Torchwood had simply been a means to an end, a way to help her find her way home and occupy her time, but if she’s honest with herself she’s grown to quite like the place.

“Anyway,” she continues, shaking off the unhappy thought, “Pete asked if you could come too, to have a look at the man we rescued from the Drazfins. UNIT just transferred him over to Torchwood’s infirmary ward. He seems to be doing okay, but they’d like you to make sure, just in case. Do you mind?”

He glances towards the TARDIS for a moment, seeming to hesitate before giving in with a small shrug.

“Very well. There’s not much else for me to do in the meantime, anyway.”

“Great!” She fishes her keys out of a small bowl by the front door, holding them up for him to see. “Let’s go! I’ll show you how much better I am at driving than you are!”

He lets out an exaggerated gasp, advancing towards her with a falsely menacing air, and she laughs as she dashes out of the door.

The moment they arrive at Torchwood they are surrounded by a crowd. The entire office is buzzing with the news of her reappearance, rumors flying high about what has happened to her in the last few days and how it is linked to the strange man besides her, the same man, according to anonymous sources, who had walked out of that box inside UNIT.

“Ah, Rose, there you are!”

Pete’s voice cuts through the buzz of voices in the hall, and the throng parts to let him pass. He does a double-take when he first sees the Doctor.

“Blimey, is that him?” he asks her. At Rose’s nod he drops his voice, conscious of all the curious ears around them. “Jackie did say he’d changed, but… seeing is believing, I guess. Doctor, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he adds in a louder voice, extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Pete Tyler, Torchwood’s director and Rose’s dad. Thank you for agreeing to come here and assist us.”

“Not a problem at all. I’m happy to be of help.”

“Good, good. Clarkson!” he calls out, and a small man steps out from behind him. “Clarkson here will take care of you until we’re done with our meeting. It might take quite a while.”

“Hello, Doctor. Nice to meet you, I’m sure,” Clarkson drones out in a monotone voice. “After me if you please, I will take you to the infirmary.”

He starts heading off without further ado, and the Doctor barely has time to cast Rose a parting glance before he has to follow, or risk losing sight of the diminutive man in such a large crowd. She watches his retreating back for a moment longer before forcing herself to turn back to Pete, waiting beside her.

“Right, let’s go and get this over with.”

He nods and leads the way back towards the elevators, a path opening again in front of him. He looks at the workers loitering around with a frown.

“Show’s over, people. Don’t you have something better to do? Lang, Rita, we’re meeting in five minutes, don’t let me catch you being late.”

The crowd disperses in a hurry at his words, and Rose steps into the elevator after him.

The floor numbers light up in quick succession as they rise through the tall building, the silence between them growing steadily more uncomfortable.

“Look, Pete, I’m sorry about –”

“Not now, Rose. We’ll talk after the meeting,” he cuts her off. She hangs her head down with a nod, and a second later the doors open with a ding.

There are already a few people milling about the hallway in front of the conference room, and they all turn to look as Pete and Rose step out into the corridor. She forces herself not to fidget as all eyes seem to focus on her, keeping her back straight and walking directly into the room instead. She scans the crowd as people begin to trickle in and take their seats around the table, looking for the members of her own team.

“Where are Mickey, Jake and Ben?” she whispers to Pete once every place at the table has been filled.

“Out of town. They left yesterday, following a lead that they thought could point us in your direction. We’ve contacted them, they’re on their way back. They should be there by tomorrow.”

She nods, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of her teammates worrying about her while she was off having a good time with the Doctor – or, well, as close to it as it gets, with him.

“Alright, if everyone is here, let’s get started.” Pete’s voice rings out in the room, quieting the low buzz of conversations. “As you all know, we are here regarding the situation that began a few days ago, when the team led by Rose Tyler and comprised of herself, Mickey Smith, Jake Simmonds and Ben Evans, went to investigate reports of disturbances in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city…”

Rose shares goodbyes with the people starting to trickle out of the room, trying to keep the smile on her face despite the headache that has been slowly worsening as the day went on, instead of improving as the Doctor had assured her it would. The crowd slowly trickles down to only a few stragglers staying behind for a quick word with Pete, others reconvening for islands of conversation in the hallway.

This had been a long meeting.

“Please, we’ll finalize the details of the transition tomorrow. For now, go home – the rest will do every one of us here some good,” Pete says.

The agents to whom this is directed nod respectfully at the director and gather their belongings before walking away. One of them stops next to Rose on her way out.

“Rose, it was an honour working with you. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we’re all sad to see you go, although we wish you well in your new life. You’ll have time for one last pub night this Friday before you leave? “

“I’ll see what I can do. Thanks, Althea. I’ll miss you.”

Althea, the leader of Torchwood Operative Team Two and the one nominated to take over Rose’s position, leans over for a quick hug before stepping out of the room, leaving her alone with Pete.

As the door clicks shut he lets out a drawn-out sigh, and when she turns towards him he is sitting with his elbows on the table, his head resting in his palms.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” she says after a few seconds. He lowers his hands and nods without meeting her eyes, busying himself in gathering the papers in front of him. She watches him for a moment, uncertain of what to say, before clearing her throat uneasily.

“Will you need anything else from me tomorrow? It’s just that I told Mum I’d spend the day with her…”

“You’re really leaving, then.”

It’s not a question but an affirmation, spoken in a low, carefully even voice. Rose swallows the sudden lump in her throat.

“I am.”

He rises from his seat and walks to the window. It’s well past midnight, and beyond the tense line of his back she can see the glow of the sleeping city fading into the darkness of the sky, broken here and there by the wandering light of a few zeppelins.

“Your mum and I, we always knew you were trying to get back to him. And we wanted you to be happy, so of course we were wishing you’d succeed, but at the same time… We’ll miss you so much, Rose. And I can’t even begin to think how we’ll tell Tony that his big sister, his hero, is leaving for good. “

Rose looks down, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She knows that. Of course she does. If only there was a way…

“I want you to know, though, that I’m so proud of you. I probably have no right to be, because I know I didn’t have a part in making you… you, but I am. I’m sure you’re aware that when Torchwood hired you, and later when you were promoted, a lot of people thought it was because you were my daughter, but I hope you know, Rose, how wrong they are. You deserved all of it. You’re clever, you’re warm and you’re compassionate, and yet you have resolve, you have strength. Even though all that time had passed, and you had to live with a broken heart, day after day, you didn’t lose faith. There were darker moments, of course, but you didn’t give up. You gave some of that drive to everyone around you, even though you never realized it. I’m glad your confidence was rewarded. You deserve everything, Rose. You deserve to be happy.”

A sob escapes her as she raises her head again. Pete has turned around and is facing her, his eyes red and a sad smile on his face. Rose feels something crumbling down inside of her at the sight, and she rushes forward to throw her arms around him.

“I love you, Dad,” she whispers, her head on his shoulder while he gently pats her back. ”You’ve done so much, for me and Mum. You took us in, you gave us a home –”

“And you two gave me a family, when I’d given up on ever having one again,” he cuts her off, his voice thick with emotion. “And you’ll always be a part of it, no matter how far away you are.”

He pulls back, and she can see tears glistening on his cheeks. Her own tears finally spill over, her voice too strangled to reply.

He takes a deep breath and gives her a tight smile, his hand squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Now, go and find your Doctor. I told Clarkson to take him to the Archives when they were done in the infirmary – I thought that might help occupy him for a while. Go be with him. I’ll see you tomorrow at dinner.”

She wipes her cheeks and nods, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before walking softly out of the office. The hallway is empty once more, a fact for which she is thankful – no matter how much she tries to stop the tears keep on coming, and she doesn’t want to have to explain them to anyone.

She gets into the elevator and presses the button for the lowest floor, resting her head on the wall as the doors close. There’s a heaviness in her chest, a weight that’s making her want to curl into a ball on the floor. This whole day has been one giant heartbreak, and it’s not that she’s regretting her decision, of course not, but saying goodbye to everyone she loves is, without a doubt, the hardest thing she’s had to do so far in her life.

The Doctor turns the communicator from Trezhin around in his hands, examining it idly. Still in good condition, although without the radioactive energy source only found on that particular planet, it’s pretty much useless as it is now.

He sets it back on the shelf and strolls further down the aisle. Despite their limited amount of resources, he’s quite impressed by the quantity of alien articles Torchwood has managed to collect. Of course, from what he’s been able to gather, the people here don’t know what the good majority of the items in their possession actually do, much less how to use them, but still… impressive nonetheless.

He sighs, pausing in his survey to look back towards the Archives door, guarded by two agents. He’s been here for hours now, and still no sign of Rose ever since they parted in the lobby.  He’s been itching to go look for her himself, but something tells him the guards wouldn’t take so kindly to a stranger roaming the halls despite their kind, welcoming attitude. Clarkson wasn’t assigned to him simply to guide him through the facility – he is also keeping an eye on him. Doesn’t Pete trust him, then?

A Szashan flash bomb on a lower shelf catches his attention, and he crouches down to examine it. With just a quick look he can tell that it’s unstable, ready to burst at any time. He throws a furtive glance around to make sure no one is watching him before taking out his sonic to disarm and disable the device for good.

…Impressive and dangerous. It’s a wonder this place hasn’t blown up yet. He can’t help but be glad that he’s taking Rose away from here – though of course traveling with him isn’t the safest way of life, either, as she had so judiciously pointed out earlier.

He sighs softly before standing up, looking around at the shelves filling the Archives warehouse. There are a few people scattered around the room, some examining various items while others sit poring over documents at the large table in the middle of the room. That man Clarkson is there at the moment, furiously scribbling down on a piece of paper, no doubt writing down the information he’s given him earlier about an alien piece of equipment that Torchwood just couldn’t figure out and which is apparently crucial to one of their cases.

Their visit to the infirmary had been a remarkably quick one. The man he had rescued from the Drazfins was recovering perfectly well, apart from a slight fever from the effects of his body’s withdrawal to the alien drugs in his system. He had given the nurse a few recommendations, and that had been it. After a quick call Clarkson had taken him to the Archives – just for a quick look around while you wait for Agent Tyler to be done with her meeting, he’d said.

How long can a meeting be, he wonders.

He sighs again as he runs a hand through his curls. Hopefully everything’s alright with Rose. He knows she was already feeling blue before leaving her flat earlier, and the rest of the day can’t have helped her mood. It’s easy to imagine how difficult it must be for her, leaving her whole life behind – and for what?

Can he really make up for that much loss?

The doors opening on the far side of the room catches his attention, and he looks up to see Rose coming through, stopping to greet the guards there. A few people hurry over to her side, and he observes her exchange a few words with them, giving a hug or a handshake here and there. She smiles and laughs, seemingly perfectly cheerful, but…

She’s not. He can tell. Something’s wrong with her – her smile is not wide enough, her laughter too subdued, her stance too rigid. It’s all wrong.

He takes a step forward, and she finally turns her eyes in his direction. She politely excuses herself from the people still surrounding her and crosses the room towards him, her stride meant to look relaxed but he can see the tension in her body as she walks. All the eyes in the room are on them as she stops in front of him.

“Doctor, President Tyler has asked me to thank you for your help today. I am charged with the task of bringing you home.”

Her voice is loud and clear, her tone formal, no doubt for the sake of everyone else in hearing range, but as he looks into her eyes he can tell – she’s been crying. It’s obvious she has tried to cover it up, however, so he refrains from comment, simply nodding in acknowledgement before following her out of the room.

He speaks the moment the doors close on them.

“Rose, are you – ”

“Not here, please. Later.”

“Alright.”

She leads him outside to the parking lot where they left her car earlier in the day. It’s the middle of the night already, but the city is still teeming with life, making the silence around them feel heavy.

It’s starting to make him nervous, to tell the truth. Has she changed her mind? Of course he knows what she told him earlier, when she insisted she couldn’t be happy without him, but maybe this has proved too much after all. Is this why she’s been crying, why she wants to wait until they’re in her apartment to talk? Is she going to tell him that she can’t leave her family behind, and that she’s staying here, after all?

That would probably be better for her. To live a normal, human life with her family. But somewhere along the way he must have turned selfish, because he doesn’t want her to.

He can’t leave her behind anymore.

He fidgets all the way back to her flat, swallowing nervously as he closes the door behind him and sees her standing still, her back silhouetted by the faint light coming through the curtains.

“Rose, what – ”

He stops when she abruptly turns and surges towards him, making him back against the door as her arms lock around his neck. She buries her face into his chest and his arms wrap around her automatically, his breath catching at the feel of her clutching to him.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “It’s just… today’s been tough. Saying goodbye to so many people, and talking to my mum and – and dad… I always knew it was going to be hard, but… Can you – can you just hold me, for a while?”

He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding as relief floods inside him. He presses his nose into her hair and closes his eyes. She hasn’t changed her mind. He gets to keep her.

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

She’s tense in his arms but he runs his hands in soothing patterns up and down her back, and eventually he feels her relax under his touch. Her breathing softens, synchronizes with the back and forth of his hands. She raises her head by a fraction, her lips ghosting against the skin of his neck, and his fingers dig into her back uncontrollably when he feels her breath over his pulse point. She gasps, pressing herself closer to him, her lips more firm against his skin and suddenly he feels very warm, his hearts pounding in his chest.

She begins trailing kisses up his neck, her fingers unlocking from their hold to sink into his hair. He slips his hands down to grip her hips, barely able to restrain himself from dipping his hands just a bit lower and…

He pulls a fraction of a centimeter away, the most distance he is able to withstand.

“Rose, are you sure? It’s just – you’re sad, maybe it’s better if –”

“I’m sure,” she interrupts him, leaning forward to bite gently on the skin of his throat. He can feel her grin against his neck as he groans. “I want you to remind me of what’s on the other side of these goodbyes. Can you think of any way to do that?”

He answers by lowering his head to capture her lips and she opens up for him immediately, his groan echoing hers when their tongues meet. Her breath comes out in pants as their mouths part and meet again, and it’s wet and inelegant and just right.

He wants her. He’s wanted her ever since he woke up with her naked in his bed, after their first night together. Back then he never would have thought they’d have to wait that long to be together again. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have left the room, or at least not for a good few hours more.

She backs away to what he assumes is her bedroom, her fingers fumbling blindly at his coat buttons as he refuses to release her mouth. Her back thumps against a closed door and it is his turn to press himself against her, both of them moaning as she shifts her hips against him.

He feels around for the door handle and manages to find it just as she is pushing his coat off his shoulders. He lowers his arms to let it drop to the floor, and she uses that moment to twirl away from him, stepping inside the room and stripping off her shirt in one fluid movement.

He pauses, momentarily stunned by the vision of her breasts enclosed in purple lace, and she grins, visibly pleased with his reaction. He takes a step towards her and she takes a step back, her smile turning teasing.

“You have too many clothes on. I remember how long it took to get all those layers off before. So take your shirt, first.”

His hands immediately fly up to his neck and make short work of his cravat before starting on the buttons of his vest. She is right, he does wear too many clothes. He is seriously starting to consider a toga as his future outfit. Much quicker access, and there’s even no real need for underwear. He wonders if he could pull off the look.

He finally manages to unbutton both his shirt and his vest, and she eyes him appreciatively as he pushes them off his shoulders. He stands transfixed as she reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra before letting it drop to the floor. He wants to protest – he should be the one to undress her – but he can’t find it in himself to complain against a course of action that lets him see the wonder that are her breasts free of any restraints.

His hands twitch with the need to touch her but she is still giving him that teasing smile and he knows he’s not allowed to, not yet. She nods towards his trousers and he wastes no time in popping open the button and lowering his zipper, sighing at the relief from the pressure that was quickly becoming painful. He stares at her, waiting for her to mimic him like before, but she only shakes her head playfully.

“Your shoes, first.”

He hops on one foot, then the other, the laces giving him more trouble than they ever have before. He should probably start going barefoot, as well. It would match the toga, anyway.

When his trousers finally hit the floor Rose is sitting on the bed, her shoes gone, and he looks at her, entranced, as she shimmies out of her jeans. Matching purple lace underwear, no doubt chosen with him in mind, and suddenly he can’t wait any longer.

He reaches her in two quick strides, burying his fingers in her hair and his tongue in her mouth before she has even time to react. She gasps and then moans as he kisses her relentlessly, like a man that’s been starved for the longest time – and he has. The past few minutes without her lips might well have been an eternity.

One of his hands slide down from her hair to her neck and then her chest, stopping to palm her breast and flick at her nipple before continuing its journey downwards. His fingers skim the edge of her underwear, and she wrenches her mouth from his to take a gasping breath when one digit strokes over her center through the fabric.

His other hand joins the first to peel her underwear away, and he gently pushes her down on the bed before pulling back to look at her. There’s something he wants to try, something he read a long time ago and that he remembered when she used her tongue on him, the last time. He sinks to his knees and shuffles forward between her legs, putting a hand on her thigh to stop her when she tries to close them reflexively.

“What – what are you doing?”

Her voice is thick with lust and it shoots straight to his groin, but he forces himself to ignore the surge of desire that rushes through him. He wants to investigate this thoroughly first.

“Reminding you,” he replies before leaning forward, his nose grazing her center.

He’s had a taste of her before, when he’d licked his fingers after pleasuring her, but this… this doesn’t compare. All of his senses are filled with her – he can smell her desire, see her glistening wetness, feel the slight tremble of her muscles in anticipation, hear her shuddering breaths. The only thing missing is –

He lays the flat of his tongue against her folds, and his groan mixes with her keening cry. The taste of her. It outshines all of his other senses. She bucks against him and he grabs her hips to steady her before delving in again.

He listens to her responsive moans as he licks and sucks, focusing on what she seems to enjoy the most. Her hand clenches compulsively in his hair and he can tell that she is getting close, but still not close enough. He lets go of one of her hips to stroke two fingers against her folds before slipping them inside her, and he is rewarded by a litany of incoherent praise, urging him on. He pumps a few times, flicking his tongue at her bundle of nerves in rhythm with his fingers. Her whole body tenses, almost there but not quite, until he sucks her clit into his mouth, hooking his fingers inside her at the same time, and she comes crashing apart with a shout.

He slows his movements to let her come down gently before pulling away almost reluctantly. He stands up to see her flushed and panting hard, an arm thrown over her eyes, her hair a tousled halo around her, and he doesn’t think she’s ever been more gorgeous than this.

She removes her arm from her face to look at him, her eyes travelling down to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. He obeys her unspoken order as he pushes them down and kicks them away.

“I’d return the favor,” she says, staring at him with raw hunger, “but I’m selfish. I want you inside me.”

“No arguments from me.”

She shuffles backwards on the bed and he climbs on after her, his knees on either side of her thighs. He crawls up her body with lips and hands, stopping to suck a rosy nipple into his mouth. She tugs on his hair, impatient, and after a last twirl of his tongue he complies, smirking down at her as he does so. She growls and reaches up to seal her mouth over his, kissing him with an urgency that wipes the smug look off his face.

She snakes a leg around his knee and pulls, bringing his lower body down. He groans as his hardness hits her center, so wet and so ready for him, as he can tell from first-hand experience. He slows down their kiss, trying to stop himself from just plunging inside her like he wants to, but then she’s trailing her hands down his back and squeezing his bum in encouragement, and he doesn’t know how he can resist much longer.

“Doctor, please,” she whimpers, and his control slips completely.

He positions himself at her entrance and pushes forward just as she raises her hips. He slides inside her incredibly easily, and even though they’ve done this before he’s blown away by just how perfect she feels around him.

He leans down to catch her lips in a messy kiss as he begins to move, the way her hips shift under him denying him the slow rhythm he wants to establish. Instead she bites his lower lip as she meets him thrust for thrust, panting his name amidst breathless moans, and he can’t help but lose himself completely in her. He thinks he might be babbling, in any number of languages, and maybe he’s swearing, or maybe he’s praising her, or it’s possible he’s just saying her name, over and over again. He has no idea, and it’s not important anyway. The only thing of importance is that she’s tensing under him again, her rhythm becoming wild and erratic, and he steadies her with his hands on her hips to allow himself to thrust even harder, to bury himself inside her as deep as he can. She arches her back under him, her lips opening in a silent cry, and then she is falling apart around him and taking him with her, helpless.

Minutes, or maybe hours later, he slips out of her and rolls over to her side. His mind is blissfully blank as she turns to wrap herself around him, clutching him to her as though scared he is going to disappear.

“These reading are a bit muddled,” he begins with a furrowed brow, “but I think… Yes, I’m fairly certain this is due to the energy signature that was emanating from the Drazfin’s world – it was affecting her systems so much that I had to filter the interference, but some of it must have gotten through to her. All the jumps I’ve had her make over the last few days must have taken their toll on her.”

Rose nods uncertainly, no doubt feeling the ship’s exhaustion in her mind just like he is, and he walks back towards her, trying to instill as much confidence as he can in his smile.

“Don’t worry, she’s a tough old thing. She’ll get better in no time.”

“Yeah, alright,” she replies with a weak laugh, taking hold of his outstretched hand and entwining their fingers together. “It’s just…  I’m so connected with her now that what she feels kind of… resonates inside me, so it’s – it’s hard not to worry, you know?”

“Yes, I do,” he whispers, his eyes shining – and he truly does. He is linked to the TARDIS on a deep, fundamental level, a connection that he had so far been unable to share with anyone, or that any of his companions had truly understood. And now this wonderful, perfect woman is offering him this mutual understanding, amongst all the other things she was already giving him.

Unable to resist this warm feeling filling his hearts, he leans forward to press his lips to hers, revelling in their softness, and how pliable they are underneath his. His hand comes up to cup her cheek as they kiss, the moment filled with a tenderness that threatens to steal his breath away. He’s so fortunate, so incredibly blessed to have met this woman, and to now get to keep her –

Except that he won’t.

A snide voice rings out in his head, reminding him that he will have to let her go eventually, send her back to his future self in order to preserve their timelines. Sooner or later, he will have to seal away his memories of her and go on with his life, alone, until he can meet her again, maybe centuries later. And he knows he should do this sooner, rather than later, because the longer he keeps her the harder it will be.

He must have stiffened at the unpleasant turn his thoughts have taken because Rose pulls back, a puzzled frown on her face. He can tell that she is worried, and that in a moment she’ll ask him what’s wrong, but he can’t bring himself to discuss this with her, not now, not so soon. In fact, he wants to wipe the very thought of it from his mind, and so he does the only thing he can think of to achieve that goal.

He lowers his mouth to hers once more, the kiss anything but gentle this time as he snakes an arm across her waist to pull her flush against him, his other hand moving up to tangle in her hair. He takes advantage of her gasp to slide his tongue past her lips, her answering moan and the way she clutches his arm only increasing his fervour.

Rose moves backwards and he follows her blindly, too intent on the way her teeth are tugging at his lower lip to spare much attention to anything else, only noticing when she stops her ministrations to hop on the console. She smiles up at him, her lips glistening and her cheeks flushed, and she looks so gorgeous, her beauty accentuated by the soft glow of the central column, that he has to pause, drinking in the sight with a heated gaze. Rose must read something in his eyes because her smile widens and turns almost predatory, leaning forward to grab the lapels of his coat to tug him closer. He steps in between her legs, his hands settling on her waist as hers reach up to bring his head down to hers once more.

He has her pinned to the console, his lips trailing down her neck and her legs wrapped around his waist when he feels her mind reaching out to him through all of his mental barriers, and he reels back, eyes wide.

How did she just do that? She shouldn’t be able to, not by any means – actively blocking their link as he is, it should have been impossible for anyone with a lower telepathic ability to even sense the connection, let alone access it in any way. And yet –

He is suddenly reminded of feeling her presence in his mind a few minutes ago, when they had just reunited. At the moment he had thought he’d let his defences down, somehow, or that he’d initiated the contact unconsciously, but this time there’s no mistaking it. Rose has done something impossible.

He is beginning to learn that this word doesn’t seem to apply to her.

“Wha – I –” The dazed confusion on Rose’s face as she blinks up at him gives way to shock, her eyes widening as she realizes what she’s done, and she slides off the console unsteadily. “God, Doctor, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, I know, you told me we couldn’t, but I miss it, having this connection with you. I thought maybe we could try again – What? What is it?”

He must have been staring at her with an odd expression because she looks at him in worry, and he shakes his head in an attempt to recover from his surprise.

“No, that’s not it, I – Rose, what you just did, initiating a telepathic connection with me, you shouldn’t have been able to do it, not with my shields in place. So how…?”

He trails off with a puzzled frown, watching as Rose goes from startled to pensive as she considers his words.

“Well, I – I’m not sure, really. Since you came back today I’ve been feeling this sort of… echo in my mind where our connection used to be, and I guess I just – sort of reached out for it instinctively. I didn’t think too much of it, I just figured you weren’t blocking out our link as much as you used to, but… by your reaction, I’m assuming that’s not the case?”

“No, it’s not,” he answers slowly. None of this makes sense. His mental shields have not decreased in strength since the moment he put them in place, after his loss of control. So why were they working then, and not now?

“Rose, I think the best way to find out is… Everything would be much clearer if I could…” he trails off nervously, raising his hands to hover above her temples. “May I?”

Rose’s eyes widen in understanding, a flush suddenly staining her cheeks.

“Oh! Yes, of course!” she answers, her voice a little breathless, before closing her eyes.

He stands still for a moment, his hands inches from her skin, his hearts beating steadily faster. The last time he allowed himself to connect with her, he had hurt her, and he knows that if he hadn’t managed to stop himself and withdraw from her mind the damage might have been irreparable. And yet here she is, despite everything that should warn her against it, placing herself into his hands with an absolute faith he is sure he doesn’t deserve.

Her trust in him warms him and fills him with dread all at once.

He takes a shaky breath, steeling himself to resist the allure of Rose's mind, and lowers his hands along with his mental barriers. He is instantly hit by the warm, luminous sensation he is starting to crave, enveloping and welcoming him, and he tenses, half expecting his control to start slipping. The sensations assaulting him do not overpower him, however, despite the intense pleasure he feels. After a moment he begins to relax and this is when he notices it.

Something feels… different.

Rose’s mind had been something of a mystery to him, at least until he’d discovered that she had been affected by vortex energy – not only because human telepaths were unheard of, but also because he could tell her telepathy was a bit… off. It didn’t seem to harmonize with the rest of her mind in the way found in born telepaths, instead feeling almost like a separate part, added later but never fully integrated. Now, though…

Now it’s as if her mind has changed, restructuring itself in perfect unity with her newfound telepathy, and that’s not just unheard of, that’s impossible.

“Is everything alright? You’ve been silent for a while.”

Her voice resonates in her mind and startles him from his thoughts, and he realizes that he has been so absorbed by his discovery that whole minutes have passed without his notice.

“I – I don’t – I’m not sure why… Rose, I don’t really know how to explain it, but your mind seems to have… altered. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Altered – how?”

 “The fact that you were a telepath was extraordinary in and of itself, but there were telltale signs that this was not a natural ability for you – a sort of discordance within your mind, if you will. This is no longer the case. Your whole mental structure has evolved to unify with your telepathy, to become completely different to what it used to be, and yet – and yet it still feels so human, so much like you.” He pauses, caught between wonder at what her mind has become and worry at what this transformation implies. “My guess is that the vortex energy has something to do with it, but I don’t see how, or why… Did anything happen while I was gone? The last time I went into your mind was a few days ago, and it was still the same, back then. It seems unbelievable that such a transformation has happened in such a short time, but on the other hand there is so much we don’t know about the energy inside of you…”

“I – I don’t know… No, nothing happened that I can think of. I was in diplomatic meetings all the time – it was a pretty uneventful time. There was no sign of the energy, no unexplained… light… Oh! Except –”

They remember it at the same time, her strange and unexplained radiance after they made love for the first time. He pulls back from her mind in a jolt, her eyes opening at the same time as his, her shocked expression no doubt a mirror to his own.

How could he have been so foolish? He berated his future self for overlooking the potential consequences of Rose taking in vortex energy, and now that he knows for a fact how much it has changed her, and how much of its effects are still unknown… He goes and does exactly the same thing.

“Rose, I’m sorry,” he says in a pained voice, running a hand down his face in dismay. “I can’t believe I’ve been this careless. You suggested running some tests when it happened but I was so intoxicated by you, I didn’t think straight. Then I got caught up in Drazfin affairs, and everything happened so quickly after that, I…”

He trails off when Rose lays a hand on his forearm, shaking her head with a wry smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. It’s easy to get swept away in the heat of the adventure. You’re not the only one who forgot, after all – I did, too, remember? And I had even more reason to remember, since I’m the one this is happening to, after all.”

“Well, yes, but I –“

“Should know better?” Her smile widens as she closes the distance between them, looping her arms around his neck, his own going almost out of reflex to wrap around her waist. “Doctor, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my travels with you, it’s that this big Time Lord brain of yours doesn’t make you infallible. Don’t beat yourself up for every mistake you make – I love you, faults and all.”

Her voice is light and teasing, like she is used to saying these small three words to him already, but he is certainly not used to hearing them, and it does something to him – all of his breath rushing out of him, his hearts tightening almost painfully in his chest. He wants to reply – to match her teasing tone, maybe, or return the sentiment, he’s not sure – but despite the fact that he is usually so adept at talking, all the words strangle in his throat, leaving him speechless.

He’s painfully aware that he hasn't said those words back, and despite how true they are, how deeply he feels them… he can’t. He’s a coward, scared of exposing himself too much, scared of being vulnerable – and it’s ridiculous, really, because he trusts her, and he’s already revealed so much of himself to her – but he just can’t.

Rose doesn’t seem to notice his internal panic, leaning up to give him a small peck on his cheek before extricating herself from his embrace.

“Now, come on, Doctor, let’s go to the infirmary and see what this is all about.”

She turns around to walk towards the corridor and he follows her, shaking his head at his cowardice, at his shortcomings, all the while his hearts are hammering inside his chest.

“I’m sorry, Rose, just a few more things to check.”

She nods from her spot on the scanner bed, sighing as she relaxes back into a lying position. He’s run a battery of tests already, and each time she’s watched him grow more pensive, engrossed in the data displayed on his screen until he emerges with a frown to declare he needs to run more scans. She doesn’t really mind – the full body scanner is surprisingly comfortable, and she hadn’t realized how tired she is – but she wishes he wouldn’t worry so much.

It’s not that she doesn’t care about what’s happening to her. Of course it’s troubling, the fact that her mind has changed so much without her even realizing it, and the fact that this might not be the last time the energy does something to her, without any warning or any way to control it. But the thing is…

The thing is, the vortex energy is a gift from the TARDIS, and she trusts the ship with her life. This thing inside her won’t harm her, she’s certain of it. After all, every single thing that has come from it since it became active has brought the Doctor and her closer – it guided the TARDIS to this universe, it gave her a lifespan as long as his, and now it has apparently improved her telepathy, right after they had experienced problems with sharing a deep mental connection.

Really, she’s not going to complain about any of this.

“Rose? Rose, I’m done with the tests.”

A hand gently shakes her shoulder, and she opens her eyes to see the Doctor looking down at her with a fondness that is not enough to hide to disquiet underneath.

She must have dozed off while he was completing his scans.

“So, what’s the verdict?” she asks, stretching her arms as she sits up.

“It’s exactly like we thought. Your mind has transformed, and it’s all thanks to the vortex energy. I compared today’s scans to the ones I took before, during the time you were unconscious in the Drazfin base. The region I had identified as your telepathic center has expanded significantly since then, with new pathways linking it to every other part of your brain. Of course, I wondered if we were not simply witnessing the end result of a longer evolutionary process which could have begun when the energy first became active in your body, but then I found traces of vortex energy, all over this region of your mind, traces which weren’t there before, and this proves it. This isn’t the result a slow process; something caused this to happen a few days ago. I remember theorising that strong emotions could trigger the energy, and it seems I was right. Our intercourse was certainly intense enough.”

She lets out a small laugh as she nods, the memories of their first time flooding back in her mind, but he looks down with a frown, shaking his head as he starts pacing in front of the scanner bed.

“And now this only opens up more questions, doesn’t it? I had thought that all changes the energy was going to operate on you had already occurred during your prolonged exposure to it while it was dormant in your body and through the shock of its awakening when it first acted to save your life, but it seems I was wrong. The energy isn’t stable, and I’m not sure we have any way to predict how or when it will induce further changes, or what those will be.”

He stops in front of her, his jaw set and his eyes avoiding hers, and she realizes what he’s about to say a second before he speaks.

“Rose, maybe… Maybe you should reconsider your decision to keep the vortex energy inside of you after all. It’s just – it’s not safe.”

The fact that she knew it was coming doesn’t help soften the blow.

She grips the side of the scanner bed, a scowl on her face. She doesn’t know what she feels most right now – incredulity, hurt, or seething anger.

“You can’t be serious, Doctor. After everything that’s happened between us, you can still say something like that?”

“Well, just think about it! Your entire body has changed, and will probably keep on changing, without you having any control over it – and it’s all my fault!”

“And how is that any different from you and your regenerations? You have to live with the knowledge that someday you’ll change, become an almost completely new man, and I don’t see you running away from the life you want because of it.” He stares at her in muted astonishment, and she takes advantage of his surprise to hop off the bed, stepping towards him and gripping the lapels of his coat to bring his head down to hers. “We’ve been over this, Doctor. I’m not going to leave you, and that’s final.”

She expects him to disagree, to continue arguing, and he does seem to struggle for a few moments, his brow furrowed and his expression tense, but then he takes a deep breath and she feels him relax under her fingers, as though he had won a battle over himself. He closes his eyes and lowers his forehead to hers, and despite herself she feels her anger seep out of her at his touch.

“Yes, alright. Thank you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry for being so difficult, Rose. It’s hard for me to believe you really are making that choice, despite the risks. I’m afraid you might need to remind me of it once in a while.”

“I’ll remind you as often as it takes for it to stick into that thick head of yours,” she grumbles, mollified.

“Wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.”

She makes a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, closing her eyes with a smile. A feeling of contentment settles over her at this simple contact, and a moment passes in silence before she pulls back to look at him, his eyes soft and gentle when they meet hers.

“Do you want to do more tests? I don’t mind if it can help ease your worries.”

“No, it’s alright. I have enough data for now, I think. I do want to set up a few programs to analyze it, though.”

“Do you need my help with anything?”

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Okay. I think I’ll go make some tea in the meantime. I haven’t had a good cuppa in what feels like forever. Join me when you’re done?”

He nods and leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there as his hands tighten momentarily around her, reluctant to let her go, the warmth spreading through her at the unmistakable tenderness in his touch staying with her for a long time after she’s left the room.

He finds her in the library, lying across a large and plush couch, waves of blond hair a burst of color against the dark fabric against which her head is resting. He stops in the threshold, bemused at the sight – that couch looks nothing like the two armchairs that used to be there and of which he is particularly fond.

“Where did this come from?”

She sits up with a start at the sound of his voice, her eyes a bit foggy as they first settle on him, and he takes a few steps inside, concerned.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no, I was just… What did you say?”

“I asked why the two very comfortable armchairs which used to be in that exact spot have suddenly transformed into something quite different.”

Her expression clears up into a playful smile, and the affected frown on his face becomes all the more difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This couch has always been there,” she replies as she leans forward to grab one of the two mugs lying on the table in front of her, hiding her not-so-innocent countenance behind its rim. He narrows his eyes at her before shaking his head in fond exasperation.

“Fine, let’s try it out.”

He steps towards the couch with an exaggerated sigh, making Rose giggle as she scoots back and pats the cushion next to her. He sits down, shifting a few times as he pretends to search for a comfortable spot.

“Yes, not too bad, I suppose,” he begins thoughtfully. “Although… let me see…”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder to tug her unresisting form towards him. She cuddles against his side, her head resting on his shoulder, and he hums in approval.

“Ah, yes. Much better.”

She laughs, her arm snaking around his midriff to hug him tighter, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head, a smile on his lips.

“So is this how it will be from now on? You and the TARDIS doing whatever you want? I suppose I should get used to the two of you ganging up on me.”

“It’s all for your own good,” she teases.

The TARDIS hums along in confirmation, and he chuckles, reclining more comfortably on the couch. Safe and sound inside the loving protection of his ship, a warm and soft Rose in his arms, he could almost forget the worries that usually plague him.

Almost.

His fingers absentmindedly trail a path across the exposed skin of her arm and their telepathic connection reawakens, the link a mere hint of her presence in his mind through his mental shields but still enough to make him ache for more.

And they could have more, he realizes. He can’t rejoice at this new discovery, at the scary and potentially dangerous implications it carries, at the unknown that they now have to live with, but no more can he claim that this particular transformation is a terrible thing. He can’t help but realize the potential it carries, all the possibilities it opens up.

When he’d lost control in the heat of passion, he had let her think that with some practice she could learn to shield her mind from his, and that then he wouldn’t then have to block out their link, but he’d known – he’d known even then that he never would have let himself forge a deeper connection with her, in the fear of hurting her again.

This newly enhanced telepathy of hers could change all that. When he slipped into her mind, in the control room, he had felt like he fit in perfectly – like there was a space there made just for him. There would be no more loss of control, no more overwhelming her. With time, and training, maybe… maybe they could form a fully-fledged bond.

Provided she wants to, of course.

“Rose, would you –”

“Doctor, I was wondering if –”

They both interrupt themselves, the Doctor chuckling as he gestures for her to continue. She pushes herself up to a sitting position, turning sideways on the couch so she can look at him, and when he mirrors her pose he notices her playing with a loose thread of her shirt, as though she was nervous.

 “Well, alright, you can tell me if you don’t want to help, especially since you don’t seem thrilled by this new change in me, but… Everything feels jumbled and chaotic in my mind, right now. I hadn’t really noticed before now, because I hadn’t really been paying attention to my – my inner self, I guess. And I was been trying to make some sense of it when you walked in, but I felt a bit lost – lost in my own mind, how ridiculous that must sound! – so I was wondering if you could… maybe…”

“Oh, Rose, of course I’ll help you,” he answers, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and raise her averted eyes to his. “I’m sorry I made you think I wouldn’t want to. I’ll always be there for you, I promise.” He waits for her to nod, and smiles warmly down at her when she does. “Now, regarding the matter at hand, it’s only understandable that your mind feels foreign at the moment – it’s just gone through a rather extreme transformation, after all. But give it some time and it should become comfortable once more. In the meantime I can help guide you through this change if you want me to - teach you about telepathy and what it implies.”

 “Yeah, I’d like that,” she agrees, relief obvious on her features. “How do we start?”

“The first step is to get you reacquainted with the structure of your mind,” he answers, shuffling closer to her until their knees touch. “You must learn to organize your thoughts and memories in order to know which parts you must shield and which can be left open. In time, and with some practice, building up mental defenses will become second nature, preventing anyone from overwhelming your mind like I did before.”

“But I don’t… Doctor, I don’t want to protect myself against you,” she says with a frown, her hand moving to his thigh in emphasis. “There’s no part of myself I want to shield from you.”

“And I thank you for that sentiment, but there’s ways to achieve this more safely than what happened the last time. Rose, one day you will meet other telepaths that won’t be as well intentioned as I am, and when that time comes I won’t forgive myself if I leave you defenseless against them.”

Her mouth twists in a sad smile and she nods, squeezing his leg again. She closes her eyes as he raises his hands to her temples, and after a beat he does the same, gently slipping into her mind.

It’s as alluring as ever, but he does his best to ignore the warmth spreading through his hearts, focusing instead on her presence besides him.

“We will start slowly, just letting you familiarize yourself with your mind. Then, when you feel ready, you can start sorting through your memories. I can guide you through this, but most of the effort will be on your shoulders. Please let me know when you want to stop. This won’t be the work of a single session, so don’t push yourself too much.”

She takes a deep breath, nervous, and he leans forward to kiss her softly, without breaking the connection. He can feel her smiling against his lips when he pulls back.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

She dives head first into the task, exploring and disentangling the pieces of her mind. He helps her along at first, providing advice and encouragement when she feels lost or overwhelmed, but those moments become few and far between as her confidence grows to a degree that amazes him – she’s only been a telepath for a short amount of time, and yet she looks like she’s a natural.

She spends a long time organizing her memories, and though he does his best not to peep the glimpses he gets make him yearn for more – glances of a little girl with a thirst for adventure; of a teenager with crushed dreams; of a young woman reaching for the stars with an older, grumpier version of himself; of a grown-up Rose, very nearly the one he knows now, lost and broken-hearted in a universe that doesn’t feel right – everything he sees makes him want to know more about her, to understand through her joys and sorrows how she became the person she is now. These are her secrets to tell, however, and he will let her divulge as much or as little as she wants in her own time. With everything he himself keeps buried or unspoken, he has no right to ask for more.

He is brought out of his musings when her relentless rhythm falters before he feels her stop completely, her telepathic presence dimming until only a whisper remains.

“Rose!”

He slips out of her mind, his hearts hammering. She slumps in his arms the moment he severs the connection, and he holds her to him with one hand as he fumbles for his sonic with the other. Her eyes are closed, her color normal, if a little pale, her breathing slow and steady, and he lets out a sigh of relief when his readings confirm his suspicions – she has simply collapsed from sheer exhaustion, not from something more sinister.

He tucks the sonic back in his pocket before brushing a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. A quick consultation of his time sense tells him that hours have passed while they were in Rose’s mind, and the discovery stuns him. It’s no wonder she fainted: she should have taken a break long before it came to this. He shakes his head, beginning to realize how determined the woman can be – sometimes to the point of stubbornness.

Just like him.

He leans over to press a kiss to her temple, mindful not to wake her, and secures her more firmly in his arms before rising. He walks out of the library and makes his way to their bedroom, setting her gently on the duvet before stepping back to observe her for a moment. She’s lovely, sleeping peacefully as she is, her blonde hair spread out like a halo on the pillow, looking so soft and inviting that he considers joining her for a nap – but no. The last think he wants is to disturb her rest. And what’s more, the analyses he set up before joining her in the library are most likely complete by now, and he really, really wants to get every crumb of information he might have missed out of the data he has acquired. Sleep will have to wait.

His most basic tests don’t yield any information he doesn’t already know, and the more involved ones won’t be finished for a long while, so he finds himself roaming the hallways, looking for something to occupy him. His books can’t seem to hold his attention, no more can the various tinkering projects on which he sometimes spends his spare time. It’s unusual for him, this fruitless search for occupation –in general, whenever boredom threatens to rear its ugly end, he simply sets the TARDIS to some random coordinates and trusts that trouble will find him. This option isn’t open to him this time, however, not with Rose asleep in their bedroom, and it isn’t boredom that he feels, anyway – it’s a sort of restlessness that won’t leave him alone, born out of frustration at his inability to answer the many questions still plaguing him.

So when the TARDIS starts to shake and her thrums take on an anguished tone, he throws his Proust aside with more eagerness than he should probably feel in the face of his ship’s distress and rushes to the console room as fast as he can.

“What is it, old girl? What’s wrong?”

A quick check of the console readings reveals a surprising disturbance in the TARDIS’ systems – an incompatibility with the very fabric of this universe – causing her continual pain as her energy level drops slowly but steadily down. How could he miss seeing it before now?

“It’s not just the Drazfin homeworld, it’s this whole universe that’s wearing on you! And here I thought being in the Time Vortex would help you recover, while it’s only making it worse.” He sighs, running a hand through his curls as he tries to resolve on a course of action. He’s made so many bad decisions recently… “What do you think, old girl? Time to leave this universe and go back to our own?”

The ship rumbles in disagreement, directing him with a mental nudge to the materialization controls where numbers are flashing. He recognizes the spatial coordinates – they point to Rose’s flat in London, which the TARDIS brought him to after he’d stumbled upon the unconscious woman for the first time.

He blinks at the console in surprise before realization washes over him.

“Oh, of course! You’re right, Rose will want to say goodbye to her family. Silly me, I had forgotten – I’m not used to having a companion’s relatives to consider. But are you sure that you can you withstand to stay here any longer?”

The TARDIS hums insistently, and the Doctor paces in front of the console as he deliberates.

“Every jump we make drains you a little more, am I right? Then I guess if we only need to move twice – first Rose’s flat, and then to travel back to our own universe – it shouldn’t be too bad. But we need to get you out of the Time Vortex as soon as possible. It’s making things worse for you as we speak.”

 He is about to start the materialization sequence when his eyes land on the time coordinates, and he hesitates, frowning. Now, this is a problem that requires more thought.

It’s been over three weeks since they met in that warehouse, or at least it has been that long for Rose – he himself skipped the few days she spent travelling to the Drazfin’s world. This means almost a month since anyone has heard of her, if he lands on Earth in linear time. He’s rarely ever brought his companions home in between adventures, so he’s never had to worry about anyone missing them before, but now – for her – he doesn’t want to mess things up.

The simplest thing to do would be to just go back to the very day he meets her, and this way avoid giving her family any undue concern, but this is risky. They are both still on Earth for a few days after that, as are Czif, Ariz and the others, and he’d rather not put the timelines in danger any more than strictly necessary – to say nothing of jeopardizing the peace they brought to the Drazfin homeworld.

No, that wouldn’t do. A better idea, then, is to go back once they have left Earth – right after he and Ariz drop off the Drazfin prisoner at UNIT, for example.

Yes, that could work. It would even allow him to go and check on the man, who had still been very weak even after the treatments he’d given him. It would be best to make sure he is recovering properly. Of course, that plan means Rose will have been missing for a few days, but – well, there’s not much he can do about that. A few days of absence shouldn’t be anything to worry her family too badly. It must have happened all the time, when she was travelling with his future self.

Confident in his decision, he examines the temporal settings the TARDIS has settled on. They are close enough to what he would have entered himself – only a few hours or so later. He could adjust them, of course, but…

“Are you sure about this?”

The TARDIS hums in confirmation, prodding him to proceed, and after a beat he gives in with a shrug.

“Well, you usually know best.”

He finishes the materialization sequence, concern etched on his features as the TARDIS shakes and groans upon leaving the vortex. She finally lands with a jolt, and the Doctor pats the console comfortingly.

“Thanks, old girl. Just a few hours more, and we’ll be off to our own universe.”

He glances over at the monitor, nodding in satisfaction at the image of Rose’s living room, but just as he is about to move away the door to her flat opens with a bang and stops him in his tracks.

He sees a petite blonde woman enter the apartment, a look of fury on her face as her eyes settle on the TARDIS in the corner of the room. She slams the door behind her and strides forward, stopping in front of the ship with her hands on her hips.

 “Doctor! Open up, you bloody alien git! I know you’re in there!”

He stares, frozen, as the woman scowls at the closed doors of the TARDIS. He recognizes her from the picture he’s seen, the resemblance even more blatant now that he sees her in flesh and blood.

This is Rose’s mother.

He has to fight the sudden impulse to send them back hurtling into the vortex, the knowledge that nothing good would come of running away barely enough to overcome his instinctive flight response. Instead he clears his throat, straightens his cravat and overcoat, and starts walking towards the doors of the TARDIS as though they spelled his doom.

“You have a funny sense of humour, you know that?” he grumbles at his ship, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile on his face before turning the door handle.

She turns around to see the middle-aged lady not so subtly appraising the Doctor’s physique, and Rose has to hide a smile. Victorian women can appreciate a nice bum as well as anyone, apparently.

“Such a sharp dresser, too!” she continues. “I know some people don’t think it appropriate for a man to care about their appearance, but as I said to Lady Edith when we were dining with the Coles – you know them, I’m sure, they have a large estate not far from here. A lovely family, but their house is shockingly poorly managed – as I was saying, I told Lady Edith that…”

Rose tunes out the Duchess as she carries on talking. The Doctor is still talking to the Earl, recounting something in that enthusiastic way of his, the expressiveness of his features making him stand out from the crowd of politely bored faces. At least he isn’t standing out because of his fashion sense, this time, she thinks wryly. She has to repress a chuckle at the thought of the Doctor being called a sharp dresser.

He must sense her watching because he turns towards her, a questioning look on his face. She gives him a small shake of the head before looking back towards the Duchess, trying her best to focus her attention on the woman before her. There is little time to waste, and she knows that she really should be trying to learn as much as she can from the other guests, but… She can’t help it if he is distracting her. He really is the most handsome man there, in Rose’s probably not wholly unbiased opinion. Judging by the glances many of the ladies are sending his way, though, she is not the only one to think so.

She endures another round of pointless chatter with the Duchess and her friends without being able to get more than a few words in edgewise – and without learning anything remotely useful – before she can’t take it anymore and finds an opportunity to excuse herself. She catches the Doctor’s eye as she rises and slips into an empty hallway, and a minute later she hears his footsteps approaching her.

She doesn’t give him time to speak, just wraps her arms around him, finally enjoying the solid feel of him after hours of being deprived of any physical contact. He returns the embrace, holding her tightly against him as a takes a deep breath, his nose in her hair, and she thinks he’s missed touching her, too.

“What is it? Are you alright?” he asks after a moment of silence, his voice muted and gentle.

“Yeah,” she breathes out, her face pressed against his chest. “I just… needed a small break from all of this. Did you manage to get any information from the Earl?”

He sighs, and she feels him shake his head.

“Nothing new, I’m afraid. I’m certain that he knows something is wrong, but he is too proud to admit he needs help. He pretends not to understand me whenever I try to broach the subject. What about you?”

“No, nothing new, either. You’d think that with the amount of gossiping they do, one of the ladies would let something slip, but no. We’re not getting anywhere, Doctor. Maybe we should consider a new approach.”

“What do you have in mind?”

She pulls back as she considers, smoothing her hands down the lapels of his coat, the velvet soft and smooth beneath her fingers.

“You could always try charming one of the ladies into telling you everything she knows,” she suggests, half-serious. “Quite a few have been sending you looks all evening.”

“And you were one of them, if I recall correctly. Not so impervious to my charms yourself, are you, Miss Tyler?” he replies in a husky tone, one of his eyebrows arching up.

It’s ridiculous how easily he’s able to make her blush, simply with his voice and a few suggestive words. She knows that he’s aware of that fact, and that he enjoys it thoroughly, but she can’t help it. He smirks at her as her cheeks redden, and she narrows her eyes at him.

This won’t do.

“Yes, Doctor, I think you’re very dashing,” she answers, humoring him, before she allows a teasing smile to form on her face. “Of course, it helps that you actually fit in with your surroundings, for once. It might be the first time this has happened since I’ve met you.”

“Rose Tyler, this is pure nonsense. My clothes are timeless, a classic everywhere. I’m offended you would even suggest otherwise.”

He gives her an affronted look, but there is a light dancing in his eyes that only makes her grin widen and laughter bubble out of her. She sends a quick glance up and down the hallway to make sure that they are alone before leaning forward to press her lips to his in a quick kiss. She goes to pull back but his hands clench on her hips, keeping her close as his lips chase after hers, and she melts into him with a sigh. She’s missed this so much. She’s not used to having to restrain herself anymore.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself, Miss Tyler,” he says when he finally pulls back, frustratingly cool and controlled while she is a flushed, panting mess.

He gives her an appreciative glance that doesn’t help her recover her composure in the slightest, his fingers stroking along the lace at her waist. She bites her lower lip, the urge to just grab him and make a run for the TARDIS so she can have her way with him becoming increasingly difficult to resist.

“You look positively stunning in that dress, Rose. You should wear it more often. Look how well we match.”

He turns her over in his arms, and she sees their reflection in the large mirror hanging in the hallway opposite them. They do look good together, him in his usual green velvet coat and grey cravat, her in a lovely blue dress with lace trimmings.

“Like characters of a Jane Austen novel,” she replies. He hums in agreement, lowering his head to press a kiss to her temple, his hands wrapping around her waist from behind. She smiles and closes her eyes, relaxing in his embrace.

“So am I the Mr. Darcy to you Elizabeth Bennet, then? The Henry Tilney to your Catherine Morland? Or am I rather the villain in this story?”

She is about to answer when a scream reaches them from the drawing room, making her eyes fly open in surprise. Their gazes meet in the mirror, an identical expression of alarm and excitement on their face.

“I believe you mentioned a new approach?”

“Yeah. Time to try something more direct, don’t you think?” she replies with a grin.

“Right you are. Now, I suggest we run!”

He takes her hand, and together they rush towards the source of the commotion.

They’re back inside the TARDIS, having saved the Earl and his dinner party all in one fell swoop.

“I take back what I said,” the Doctor groans as he blindly tugs on the laces of her corset, too busy kissing a trail up her neck to look down at his hands.

“Wha –?” she breathes out, distracted by the graze of his teeth against her earlobe and the play of his muscles underneath her fingers as she runs them down his back.

“Your clothes. As gorgeous as you look in them, you could already be naked and writhing under me by now if it wasn’t for this wretched dress.”

She shivers at his murmur in her ear, a fresh wave of lust running through her. She loves it when he talks like this, his honeyed voice positively dripping with sin – another thing he knows and isn’t hesitant to use against her.

“No, no, you’re right,” she tries to retort, the breathiness of her voice and her fingers dipping almost uncontrollably lower betraying her in her attempt to tease him. “I think I’ll always wear this from now on. In fact, I think I saw a dress with even more lacing than this one, in the wardrobe room. Sure, it will take an hour to put on and take off again, but as long as we match, it will be worth –”

He silences her by capturing her lips, kissing her so thoroughly everything else disappears, her entire world narrowing down to urgency and need. She cups him through his trousers and he rewards her with a growl, tugging on the laces so hard that it rips the material of her dress. Her gasp transforms into a moan when he lowers his head to the newly revealed skin.

He gazes down at the sleeping form snuggled against his side, her head on his chest and an arm draped across his waist. His jerking awake must have disturbed her because she is shifting against him, breathing out words he can’t quite make out before she settles again. He feels the ghost of a kiss against his skin and then her breathing evens out, her features once more soft and relaxed as sleep reclaims her.

He stills, drinking in the sight of the woman lying next to him. The blankets have slipped from her shoulders during her sleep to gather at her waist and his eyes linger over her figure, admiring her beauty without the urgency of arousal of the night before.

He wasn’t lying when he told her she was gorgeous.

She’s all warmth and curves and soft skin, belying the strength he knows she possesses underneath. In the dim light her hair shines like pure gold, and a strand falling across her face makes his fingers itch in an urge to tuck it behind her ear, follow the apple of her cheek down to the elegant arc of her neck and shoulder.

The thought brings to mind the image of him doing just that, hours before. She’d been lying over him, radiant after their lovemaking, and he could feel the lingering trail of her arousal, could almost taste it in the air around her. He’d been powerless to resist it. He’d trailed his fingers down her neck before leaning up to kiss her, her answering moan in his mouth erasing every other thoughts in his head. For a while afterwards his world had narrowed down to her, to her body and her heat, to the glorious experience of watching her fall apart around him.

He exhales shakily as memories of their lovemaking flash across his mind. Her sounds, her taste, her touch, the feeling of thrusting inside her or having her ride him, it all comes back to him in vivid sensory details. He is overtaken by such a powerful wave of lust that it takes everything he has not to reach out and touch her, to roll her over and wake her up with his lips on her skin.

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and force the urge away. He struggles to do so, and maybe that fact should shock him – with the control he has over his body it should be easy for him to suppress the chemicals linked to arousal – but it doesn’t, not really. He has passed the point where he is surprised by the power this woman has over him, even when sleeping peacefully next to him.

Unwilling to disturb her rest and absolutely positive he will do so if he continues to feel her bare skin against his for much longer, he gently disentangles himself from her and slips out of the bed. Rose frowns in her sleep at the sudden emptiness next to her, her arms coming up to wrap themselves around her pillow as a substitute. The Doctor softly tugs the blanket up so that it covers her again, leans in to press a light kiss on her hair, and steps away from the bed to study his surroundings.

The bedroom in which he is standing is unfamiliar to him, although this is far from surprising considering the number of rooms the TARDIS contains. When he had stumbled out of his lab, his arms full of Rose and his thoughts scattered by arousal, he had simply begged his ship for a bed, any bed, which would serve the purpose he had in mind.

She had certainly delivered.

The room is beautiful, conveying a mix of elegance and practicality that he finds extremely pleasing. He looks around at the wooden desk, the plush armchairs, the lavish rug covering part of the floor, before his gaze is drawn back to the large bed throning on one side of the room and the woman sleeping in the middle of it, and this is where it hits him. This isn’t just any room. This is the perfect union of them both.

This is their bedroom.

The realization fills him with a mix of elation and panic, and he has to lean against the wall to steady himself. He was being truthful when he told Rose how scared he was of letting himself be with her. If there is one thing he’s learned over his long life, it’s that the universe is rarely this kind to him. The thought of opening up to her only to lose her afterwards fills him with dread, even after what they’ve just done, perhaps even more so now.

But maybe… Maybe if he can take things in small, simple steps forward, rather than looking into the far off and frankly frightening future, can help quell his anxiety and accept what Rose is offering him. Small, simple steps like waking up to her sleeping peacefully against him, in a bedroom of their own.

He smiles softly as he looks down at Rose, looking so much like she belongs in this bed, in this room, in his ship that it steals his breath away. Yes, this can work, if he can concentrate on the present. With her help, he thinks he might just learn to do so.

The TARDIS chimes in his head, interrupting his musings to let him know that Czif and Kirif have just entered the console room in search of him. He nods reluctantly with a sigh. He doesn’t want to leave the sanctuary of this room, doesn’t want Rose to wake up alone and wonder why he is gone, but… he has a duty to the Drazfins to finish what he has started. With any luck he’ll be back before she awakens, and she will never know he left.

---------------

She awakes feeling happier and more relaxed than she has in years.

The coziness of the sheets against her naked skin makes her smile as she stretches lazily, her eyes closed. Her smile grows when she feels the twinge between her legs, a reminder of the amazing and completely unexpected turn that the last few hours have taken.

From their first kiss to their long-overdue talk, from his declaration that he wants her to stay with him to making love for the first time... it had all been more than she had dared hope for. She had sought him out with the intention of getting him to talk to her, hurt and confused after days of him avoiding her. There was no way she could have expected waking up naked next to him a few hours later, closer than they’d ever been before.

The only shadow in this otherwise perfect picture is her inability to withstand the intensity of their mental connection. He’d had to block out their link completely in order to avoid hurting her, and although at that time neither of them had minded its absence too much, focused as they were on the physical aspects of their newly evolved relationship, she wants to give him this, too. She knows how important telepathic connections are to him, to his species. He had confided in her once, when he had piercing blue eyes and a leather jacket, how hollow his head felt since he had lost his people. Of course, for this him, the Time Lords are still alive, but it doesn’t change the fact that she wishes she could be a part of such a fundamental aspect of his life.

Well, they had agreed to practice later, when they had time, and right now her fingers itch to touch him again. Maybe she could wake him up with her lips against his skin and convince him to try again… and if not, well, she is sure they can find other activities that they will both enjoy.

She rolls over to snuggle against his side, and the empty space next to her makes her train of thoughts stutter to a stop and her eyes fly open.

He's gone.

She had been sure that he was still sleeping next to her, and the sight of the empty bed, the empty room, causes a flood of disappointment to rush through her, mixed in with a touch of panic that she does her best to repress. The thought that he could have woken up regretting what happened between them flashes through her mind – but no. She closes her eyes, remembering his touch, his lips on hers, the look in his eyes when they made love, and she feels a bit calmer.

And now that she thinks about it, she can understand his absence perfectly. He needs less sleep than she does, so he woke up first and decided to leave her so as not to disturb her rest. He’s probably somewhere tinkering with the TARDIS, or…

The ship sends her the image of the Doctor in the console room, talking with Kirif and Czif, and she almost slaps herself at her forgetfulness. In the flurry of emotions of the last few hours, she had completely forgotten about their current situation: the race against time to cure the ailing population of this world, the tenuous peace so recently established between the refugees and two of the three main factions… Of course the Doctor is with them now, helping them with their struggles, as he should be.

The TARDIS sends a questioning hum, asking Rose if she wants her to let the Doctor know she is awake, but she shakes her head with a smile.

“That’s alright. He’d want to come back here, and I’ve monopolized him enough. I’ll just clean up a bit and join them afterwards.”

She hops off the bed, looking around her with interest. They had been too caught up the night before to notice anything other than the large bed they had been lucky enough to stumble upon, but observing her surroundings now, she realizes that luck likely has very little to do with it.

“Thanks, old girl. This room is perfect.” she says, trailing her hand on the smooth surface of the carved wooden desk. She can almost touch the bits and bobs that would inevitably cover it, can almost see him tinkering while she reads on the bed, the comfortable silence broken by bouts of teasing conversation until it turns into something more, her book and his latest project abandoned in favor of one another…

The TARDIS thrums warmly in her mind in acknowledgment of her thanks, and her heart fills with love as her thoughts turn to the ship, this wonderful ship that has offered her the most incredible gift. Rose is no fool, she knows nothing that is happening right now is mere luck. The energy from the heart of the TARDIS would not have lingered inside her body, secretly embedding itself inside her until the right moment came to become known, unless the ship had wanted it to be so. It is thanks to the TARDIS that she is reunited with the Doctor, thanks to her that she can be by the side of the man she loves for a forever that now matches his.

Her breath hitches as the significance of that statement suddenly hits her with full weight. Her forever now means hundreds, maybe thousands of years. It’s a terrifying number. The concept of such a long life is almost impossible for her to grasp, and she feels a bubble of anxiety rise up inside her, threatening to burst. She leans against the wall and closes her eyes, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths. She wants this, to be with him, to enjoy the good times and support him through the bad. It’s scary now, of course it is, to think of her entire life stretched out ahead of her in a long, dizzying prospect, but if she looks at it one day at a time, one adventure at a time, with him at her side… that’s not so bad at all.

She walks around the room gathering her discarded clothes, scattered all over the room by their enthusiasm in undressing each other, but she wrinkles her nose at the thought of putting them on again, all crumpled as they now are. She opens the dresser to see it already filled with clothes and underwear – some new, some she remembers having picked from the wardrobe years ago – and with an affectionate mental wave towards the ship she gathers some in her arms and heads for the bathroom for some much-needed freshening up.

She stops in the threshold, stunned by the sight. The TARDIS really went all out. Even the bathroom is magnificent. She’d never found cause to complain about the ensuite attached to her old bedroom, it had suited her needs just fine, but it definitely pales in comparison to the one she is currently standing in. It is so luxurious that it is almost sinful – spacious counters, wall-size mirrors, a large shower with glass walls and multiple sprays, even a sunken bathtub in an elevated corner of the room that looks more like a small pool than anything else. She walks over it and climbs the first step to peek over the edge. She sees the many nozzles and taps, the low bench covering the entire length of the tub, and thoughts of the many uses the Doctor and her could make of it in the future flash through her head. She walks to the shower, her train of thought bringing her to evaluate its potential for similar activities, and then she notices the mirror directly opposite. They would easily be able to see themselves, if they were to…

She feels herself flush, the urge to find him and spend the next hours exploring every single one of her ideas so potent that she has to grip the edge of the counter to restrain herself. She shakes her head with a breathless laugh. What has he done to her, reducing her to such an uncontrollable mess of sexual desires. It’s like she’s sixteen all over again.

“Judging by all of this, I take it that you approve of what happened between us, then?” she teases, addressing the ship as she enters the glass stall. The sprays come on by themselves, the water at a perfect temperature being all the answer she needs. She smiles, turning to the array of products on the shelf, her heart feeling as warm as the rest of her body.

---------------

“No, this is not an acceptable solution for us. Whereas our people are spread out over a large territory, nearly everyone in Trakhan lives in a large central hub. This will make it easier for their scientists to streamline the treatment process, which will result in a larger fraction of their population cured before ours. Who is to say they won’t use this advantage against us?”

“We resent this accusation. We assure you we are of good faith, as we think our conduct so far has demonstrated. This solution does appear to be the best so far. Our people shouldn’t be punished for your poor management of your territory.”

The Doctor runs a hand over his eyes, exasperated by the continuous bickering of the faction leaders on the monitors. He had been too optimistic before, after their first diplomatic meeting. He had thought things would be much, much easier. He had forgotten the fact that these people had been at war for years. Trust did not come easy to them.

He had joined Kirif and Czif in the console room after leaving the bedroom and found the two in the middle of an argument about the best way to distribute the cure to the two factions. To prevent fruitless debate, the Doctor had suggested contacting the faction representatives with the use of the TARDIS systems, in order to ask for their opinion directly.

Over an hour later, they were still at it.

It had not been so bad at the beginning of the call. Oh, the Drazfins had been argumentative from the start, but he had been surprised by the skill with which Czif had handled them, soothing their worries and mollifying their mutual mistrust. He had already had a high opinion of the brilliant young scientist, this new hidden talent of hers increased his respect for her even more. He certainly isn’t known for his diplomatic skills. He usually has very little patience for it.

Which is definitely bad luck for them, because less than a quarter of an hour after the conference call began, Czif’s assistant Mavran came panting into the console room, trying to catch his breath as he blurted out that Ariz had awoken, and that since she’d asked to be told when he did –

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Czif had rushed out of the ship with a hurried apology.

They’d made very little progress since then.

He tunes out the belligerent voices with a sigh. This day had started out so well, too, waking up like that with a soft and warm Rose in his arms. For the hundredth time since he left the bedroom, his thoughts turn to the woman still sleeping there. He wishes he could just walk out of the console room and go back to her. Or better yet, lock everyone out of the TARDIS and spend the next century or so holed up inside with Rose. Then, maybe, he would be ready to come out and endure this torture.

“Well, what do you think, Doctor? After all, it is thanks to your expertise that we are even having this discussion.”

“Not my expertise alone,” he answers in a weary voice. “Czif deserves a lot of the credit, as does Kaf, the other scientist from that mission to Earth.”

“Kaf? But he went back to Kraln, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. What does that have to do with –”

He interrupts himself abruptly as he hears footsteps approaching the console room from the corridor beyond, his head whipping towards it to see Rose standing there, smiling at him. His breath hitches as he stands frozen, taking her in.

“Doctor?”

“Excuse me for a moment,” he answers, his voice surprisingly calm despite the way his hearts are pounding in his chest. He forces himself to take steady steps towards her instead of breaking into a run like he so desperately wants to, but then her smile widens, a teasing tongue makes its appearance, and he can’t resist any longer.

He rushes the rest of the way, grabbing her hand and tugging her past a corner where no one can see them. She opens her mouth to greet him but he doesn’t give her the time to speak, pressing her against the wall and kissing her like he has wanted to do ever since he woke up. When he pulls back she is flushed and panting and absolutely gorgeous.

“Good morning,” he says, smiling almost smugly down at her, pleased to be the cause of her looking like that.

“Yeah,” she answers breathlessly, still a bit dazed from his kiss. “Yeah, it is. I missed you when I woke up, though.”

His smile turns into a wince.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave, believe me, but you looked so peaceful, and had I stayed longer I don’t think I could have left you alone for long, as soft and warm and intoxicating as you are.”

“Hmm,” she hums, looping her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls of his hair in a way that is entirely too distracting. “You could have woken me up. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I had half a mind to do just that. I probably would have, too, if Kirif and Czif hadn’t walked into the console room looking for me.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, fine,” he sighs. “They came to discuss the best approach for distribution of the cure to Zayin and Trakhan and I proposed contacting their leaders to have their opinion, something I bitterly regret suggesting now. My morning’s been a succession of bad decisions, really. I should have just stayed in bed with you.”

She chuckles, raising her head to softly kiss his cheek.

“As pleasant as that would have been, you were right to leave. We can’t ignore the Drazfin situation forever. I’ve taken up too much of your time already.”

“Rose, as far as I’m concerned, you can have all of my time.”

She smiles that teasing smile up at him again and he can’t stop himself from lowering his lips to hers, chasing her tongue back into her mouth. She moans softly as she lets him in, pressing the length of her body against his, and the lust that had never quite left him since he woke up flares up again.

How is it possible that less than half a day before they had never touched like this, and yet now he can’t seem to stop?

“You should go back. They’ll be waiting for you,” she murmurs after a few moments, pulling back just enough to speak. He only groans in response as he captures her lips again, his arms tightening around her. She lets him kiss her for a few seconds longer before she pulls back again.

“Doctor,” she insists in a breathless voice. “Later, I promise, when we have all the time we want…”

He relents with a sigh, resting his forehead against hers as he pushes back the urge to drag her back to the bedroom.

“Fine, but I’ll hold you to that. Now, come on, come with me. I could certainly use your help handling these people.”

He takes her by the hand and tugs her towards the console room. As they approach it they can hear indistinct fragments of a heated discussion, and the Doctor rolls his eyes, exasperated. Still arguing, then.

“…the right move. You know as well as I do that there will be no peace as long as Kraln isn’t made to listen. Your utopian idea won’t get us anywhere.”

He slows down as they near the doorway, incredulity washing over him. This is supposed to be a meeting about peace, and yet these words sound suspiciously like they are suggesting war.

“Everyone here left their homes to get away from the war! I will not send my people to battle against their will,” Kirif cries out.

“Then don’t. We don’t need your people, only the cure for our own. They will be the ones fighting.”

“What is this?” the Doctor asks in a hard voice, swooping into the room with Rose on his tail. Kirif whirls towards them, looking both agitated and relieved to see him.

“Doctor, we were just discussing the Kraln situation.”

“Yes, so I heard. I must admit to some confusion, however, as to why such talk is even necessary.”

“Come now, Doctor, we must be realists,” says the same voice he heard before. He turns to face the monitors to see the face to which it belongs: one of the Zayin delegates, which he had noticed before as particularly belligerent. He eyes him for a second, noting the hollowness of his cheeks, the general air of frailty about him. Sick, and still thinking of war.  “We cannot simply ignore the matter. We are thankful for the immense advantage your expertise and equipment gave us, but Kirif admitted that Kraln possesses a rudimentary version of the cure, thanks to this Kaf. With every passing day we risk the chance of them perfecting it on their own and regaining their strength. If we attack now, this can all be ended much more quickly and efficiently.”

“Efficiently!” the Doctor spits out, outraged. “You talk about efficiently murdering innocents as calmly as if you were discussing the weather. Is this why I helped you people? Is this really what you want, to cure your men one minute just to send them off to battle the next?”

“Innocents! Need I remind you of the lives we lost when they hit our ship? We must retaliate, we must avenge them!”

“And they will want to avenge whatever loss you inflict them in return,” Rose exclaims, stepping besides him in front of the monitors, her jaw set as all eyes snap to her. “It’s a vicious cycle, don’t you see? It can’t go on like this if there is to be peace on your planet. I know it’s not an easy thing to do, but please, have the courage to be the ones to break that cycle, here and now.”

Her words ring out in the silence that follows. The Doctor watches her glare at the Drazfins on the monitors, defying them to challenge her, and his hearts swell with pride. He sees a few of the faction leaders nodding their heads in agreement or looking down in shame, but Rose’s gaze doesn’t flinch from the pale, sickly Drazfin who had spoken.

“I think –” he begins to say but he is cut off by Czif running inside, a small monitor in her hands.

He is cut off by a loud beeping sound coming from the console. The Doctor rushes towards it with a frown, his expression transforming into one of surprise as he examines the readings on the screen.

“We are receiving a wide-broadcast message originating from Kraln’s capital city. Here, let me…”

With the press of a few controls he brings up a video on one of the ship’s monitors, relaying the display to the two factions at the same time.

On the image is Kaf, looking more worn and tattered than the Doctor remembers him.

“This message is addressed to the leaders of Trakhan and Zayin. My name is Kafazn, and I speak in the name of the people of Kraln. The past few days have been a time of unrest for us. I assume you know who the alien called the Doctor is, and how he came to be involved: a team of which I was a part of met him on a mission to the planet Earth. We had as a goal the development of a cure for the disease ailing our world, using as a starting point the natural immunity of the inhabitants of that planet. The Doctor offered his help, and with this most valuable ally we were well on our way to completing our objective. But our leaders were not satisfied with this. They rewarded his help by betraying his trust, kidnapping his partner in the hopes of a military advantage. This decision has led my people to the brink of extinction. The cure was not complete nor tested when they carried out that act, and as we discovered later it was not potent enough in its current state to be suitable. Without the Doctor’s assistance we struggled to improve it while our people kept on dying, people that could have been saved without our leaders’ narrow-minded focus on war.”

He pauses, his face contorting with grief as he looks down, struggling to maintain his composure. The Doctor remembers Kaf telling him about his family, and his hearts clench painfully at the thought of what might have happened to them. He feels a hand grab hold of his, fingers interlocking and squeezing in comfort, and he looks down to see Rose standing next to him, her face set in an expression of sorrow mirroring his own. He squeezes back, offering her a faint, saddened smile, both turning back towards the screen when Kaf begins speaking again.

“Then a small group of refugees extended an offer of peace to every faction, along with the possibility of an improved and effective version of the cure, and it seemed like a gift from heaven. The offer seemed genuine, and most of us were more than ready to accept it and attend the diplomatic meeting. But not all.”

The camera pans to the side, revealing a group of Drazfins bound and gagged inside a prison cell. He feels a grim satisfaction when he recognizes Dzarn among them, the mission leader who had stunned and kidnapped Rose.

“Our so-called leaders – the people who are supposed to have our best interests at heart – decided that this was yet another opportunity for a military action and sent a small number of their dwindling supporters  to attack the peace delegation in the hope of capturing the Doctor. This act of war was the final straw. There was already a growing unrest amongst the population, and this only fortified our belief that the current leaders had to be overthrown. By then we outnumbered those still loyal to them, and the uprising was swift and mostly bloodless. Our faction will no longer be ruled by aggression and fear.”

The last words are spoken with pride and determination, and he pauses a moment as if to savor them.

“We are contacting you today to tell you that everyone on this planet has suffered enough, be it through countless wars or through this terrible disease. It is time to lay down our weapons as well as our differences. We must let go of the past and start building a future, for the sake of our survival, for that of our children. Of course, that means all of us must swallow our pride and our personal grievances and forgive – forgive the acts of violence committed against each other, the latest in a long line being the attack on your peaceful gathering. Even though the people responsible are already being punished for it, we ask for forgiveness for being unable to prevent it. We hope you will be able to look past it, and let our world be at peace once more.”

The message switches off amidst a stunned silence. The Doctor recovers first, taking a deep breath to ease the mix of relief and sorrow weighting on his hearts.

“You were right, Rose. Someone did need to break the cycle. It’s just not who we thought it would be.”

---------------

Everything happens very quickly after that.

In an almost unanimous decision the factions leaders choose to answer Kraln’s message with an invitation to talk. The Doctor contacts them using the TARDIS and their response is almost immediate, Kaf and a few others appearing on the screen with ragged and weary but hopeful faces. The first few moments are painfully awkward, the charged history between each faction weighing on everyone’s mind – even Rose acutely feels the fat that the last time she saw the scientist, she stunned him – but eventually the awkwardness subsides and they are able to start talking about the best way to move forward.

While everyone agrees that there is much to discuss before peace can be truly achieved, they are also of one mind that the most pressing matter at hand is curing the population, regardless of faction. It is therefore decided that while the faction leaders will meet in a neutral grounds – the refugee base is quickly suggested and accepted as a location – to begin diplomatic negotiations, a small team composed of Czif, her assistant Rizi and the Doctor will travel to each faction and teach their teams of scientists how to produce and administer the cure.

Rose expects to go with them, but Kirif suggests that she stay and assist in the diplomatic meetings as an unbiased moderator, and she has to agree. She has some experience in situations like these, from her previous travels with the Doctor and her time at Torchwood, and if she can help move things along… it would be selfish of her to refuse. After that there is only time for hurried goodbyes before the Doctor leaves with his team, taking the TARDIS for faster travel, and days pass in an unending succession of peace negotiations.

She trudges back from another long meeting, tired and irritated and ready to catch a bit of well-deserved sleep. It’s not that things aren’t progressing, on the contrary. There have been a few missteps, of course, as was bound to happen when bringing people together who had been used to hating each other for decades, but overall the negotiations are going better than expected. The terrible losses suffered by everyone during the epidemic have awakened the Drazfins to the necessity of peace – with a few exceptions. There are some voices of dissension, chief among them that of the sickly Drazfin who had been arguing for war just moments before they received Kraln’s message, and they are the ones sapping all of her energy.

She is ruminating on the best way to deal with that Drazfin in a tactful but firm way at the next meeting when she passes by the door of the recovery ward and decides to stop there for a few moments to take her mind off things.

The patients who have been treated and cured of the disease were moved there a few days ago to be closely monitored, and among them was Ariz, who has become his healthy and enthusiastic self once again. Rose has been to see him often over the last few days, whenever she could find time between two endless meetings, glad to have someone to talk to that isn’t prone to quarrel with everyone else about some perceived slight in the negotiations. She enjoys his company, too, even more than she had during their brief time together on Earth – the fact that she is not a prisoner and that his people are no longer on the brink of extinction certainly helping in that regard.

Ariz’s brother Azan is with him when she enters the room, and he rises to leave despite her protests that he should stay.

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ll let you two chat. Ariz, think about what I said, ok?”

Her friend nods uncertainly, and his brother walks out of the room with a parting wave. She settles down in the chair he has just vacated, looking quizzically at the Drazfin on the bed.

“What was that about?”

“Oh, nothing…” he answers dismissively. He fidgets with his covers for a second before raising his head back towards her. “It’s just… now that the war is almost over, he is thinking of leaving the base and settle down somewhere with his family. They’ve been down here for so long, they’re eager to be on the surface again.”

“Well, that’s understandable. Will they go back to their old home?”

“They’re not sure. With the way things are shaping up, there will be less restrictions on our lives than there used to be, on what we choose to do or where we choose to live. I think they’ll want a fresh start to go along with that.”

“I’m glad for them. And you, what will you want to do? I remember how much you wanted to explore new worlds,” she says with a small laugh, thinking back to their long conversations, back in that dingy room, about her travels with the Doctor.

“Yes, I do, but… I don’t know. My brother wants with to come with them, that’s what he was telling me just now. We haven’t seen a lot of each other since the war, so it would be nice to be a family again. But then there’s also… And I can’t decide what until I know what she’s…”

He trails off, blushing as he looks down, and she immediately knows what he means.

“You can’t decide until you know what Czif wants to do?” she asks, smiling at his bashful nod.

The first time she had come to visit him, a blushing Ariz had admitted to her that upon waking up Czif and him had finally worked things out, or rather she had thrown her arms around him and his stammering brain had caught up after a while. Rose had laughed and hugged him, teasing him playfully until he reversed their position by asking her about the Doctor – Czif had clearly said something to him. They had bonded over their newfound relationship, and how much they now missed the other half of it.

“You know what would help solve your problem?” she asks, chuckling. “The same thing I told you to do before: talk to her!”

“I know,” he answers with a small laugh. “And I will, when she comes back. Which should be any day, now,” he adds in a wistful voice.

“Did you hear anything from them?”

“Only that all three of them are supposed to be back soon, bringing in some new people for a meeting with Kirif before they leave again.”

Rose nods her head with a sigh. She’d heard as much, too, unfortunately. It means more time apart from the Doctor, as there was little chance she would be included in this next trip: Kirif seemed to consider her diplomatic skills completely indispensable, now that she’d started helping.

Ariz watches her thoughtfully, his brows furrowed.

“Rose, can I tell you something?” he begins hesitatingly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I love having you here, but… There will always be something else, you know. Something more for the Doctor and you to do, as long as you stay here. But I think… I think you’ve done more than enough already. If you want to leave… you shouldn’t feel like you can’t. You’ve shown us the way, I think we’ll be able to follow it from now on. You must be eager to go back home, to Earth.”

Back home.

She doesn’t correct him that the TARDIS is her home, now, the TARDIS and the Doctor. Her mind is brought back to before this adventure started, back when home was an empty flat, a London in which she never truly felt like she belonged. She’ll have no problem leaving that behind.

But… back then, home was also her family. Pete, who she has come to think of as her father. Her little brother, who can be as much an angel as a terror and who she loves to bits. And her mum, who’s sacrificed so much to raise her by herself, who’s always given her everything she could, who’s always loved her with all her heart.

She’ll have to say goodbye to them.

She’s not regretting her decision to keep this energy inside her, could never regret staying with him. That choice had been made a long, long time ago. And she’d known, all those years she’d been looking for a way back, that she’d have to leave them behind if she were ever successful. But knowing this in an abstract, immaterial kind of way and facing it as a hard, cold fact… it feels very different.

Her heart clenches painfully as she tries to figure out of what she will say to them, when she visits them for the last time. She’s ashamed at how little they have been in her thoughts since this whole thing started. Her more than unexpected meeting with a past Doctor, and then the adventure with the Drazfins, both of those events overshadowed everything else. But now that she takes the time to think about it, she realizes that the last thing anyone has heard of her, back on Earth, was her being pursued by unknown, armed aliens. She yelled at Mickey to get the prisoners safe, and then she just vanished.

They must be so worried.

“Rose?”

She jerks her head up and is about to say something when there is a whoosh in her mind, accompanied by the sensation of something falling back into place, something she hadn’t noticed had been missing. It feels nothing like the Doctor’s presence. It gives a sense of immensity bound in a small space, of being eternal and yet imbued with time, and suddenly she knows what it is.

The TARDIS.

She rushes to her feet under the perplexed gaze of her companion, and a second later the unmistakable whirring of the ship materializing nearby reaches their ears.

“Your ship!” Ariz exclaims, struggling to push back his covers and rise off the bed. Rose takes a hurried step towards him, stopping him from getting up with a hand on his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t. You’re not strong enough yet.”

“Then please help me – I want to…”

She nods reluctantly, not having the heart to deny him this. She lowers herself to allow him to slip an arm around her shoulders, steadying him with a hand on his back.

“Lean on me,” she instructs him, and together they start a slow walk out of the room and down the corridor, guided by their ears – and, in Rose’s case, by the feeling in her mind.

The sound of the TARDIS materializing stops before they can reach it, but Rose confidently leads her companion down a side corridor, when voices reach them from an open door a few meters away.

“Alright everyone, follow me. Kirif wanted me to bring you to him the moment we arrived. I’ll find someone to give you a tour later.”

Rizi steps out in front of them, followed by a number of wide-eyed Drazfins. She gives them a tired smile when she sees them.

“They’re still in there,” she whispers, gesturing vaguely behind her.

Rose and Ariz wait for the group to pass before stepping into the room they have just left. The TARDIS is inside, its doors half-open, and Rose’s heart jumps a bit at the sight.

Home.

They make their way towards the ship, Rose forcing herself to go slowly for Ariz’s sake despite her desire to run the rest of the way. She is close enough to feel the TARDIS perfectly now, thrumming a happy welcome, and with a pounding heart she finally pushes the doors open the rest of the way.

The Doctor and Czif are in the console room, bent over one of the monitors, discussing something in quiet voices. The Doctor’s head whips up as they take a first step inside the ship, a startled Czif looking up alongside him.

“Ariz! You shouldn’t be up!” she protests half-heartedly, recovering from her surprise to rush around the console and help support him. Rose lets go and steps aside once Ariz has an arm firmly across Czif’s shoulders, and his now free other arm wraps around the scientist’s waist, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.

Rose smiles at the sight for a moment before her gaze slides to the Doctor, and then all other thoughts fly out of her mind.

He is standing a few steps away, his eyes roaming her face with an intensity that makes her breath catch. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this, him looking at her so openly like this, like he’s never seen the like of her before, like he’ll never tire of the sight.

She slowly walks the distance separating them, pulled towards him like a magnet, her heart accelerating with every step. She stops in front of him and reaches for his hand, feeling shy after days of absence, almost uncertain whether she is allowed. His fingers entangle with hers as he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, and she marvels at how her heart jumps from only his touch.

“Rose…”

“Hi,” she breathes out with a chuckle, her voice shaking. Her heart fills with his presence but suddenly it’s not enough, she wants her head to feel him, too, and without thinking she nudges their link open, despite all of his mental defenses that should have made it impossible for her to do so.

His eyes widen in surprise as she brushes her mind with his, this hint of a connection with him enough to make her heart sing. She is hesitant to do more, remembering his fear of losing control, but then she feels him return her touch, slowly, softly, his eyes darkening until he leans forward with a choked sound and crashes his lips to hers.

She sighs in pleasure, letting go of his hand to thread both of hers into his curls, tugging on them to encourage him as she flicks her tongue against his lips. He groans and deepens the kiss, one hand spreading across her back to pull her body to his, and she’s beginning to think that they’re rather in a too vertical position for where this is leading when a throat clearing behind her makes her jump away from him.

She had completely forgotten about Czif and Ariz, and she feels herself blushing to the roots of her hair under their amused glances. The Doctor looks around dazed for a moment before he recovers, and with an unabashed smile he reaches for her hand to tug her back to him.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Czif teases. “We’ll let you get back to it, but first we wanted to say goodbye.”

The Doctor frowns in confusion but Rose looks at Ariz, who is nodding at her encouragingly, and her mouth twists into a sad smile.

“Are you sure? It wouldn’t be a bother to stay longer…”

“No, as I told you before, you should go. Otherwise, who knows how long Kirif would have the Doctor running all over the planet while you help him out of every single diplomatic misstep,” Ariz jokes, but she sees he is as sad as she is, and she lets go of the Doctor to engulf him in a hug.

“Thank you for everything,” he whispers, and her eyes fill with tears. Behind her the Doctor has caught on, and is asking Czif whether she is certain they will be fine.

“Yes, Doctor. Ariz is right, you’ve done more than enough. You’ve held up every promise you’ve made, even the ones that seemed too outrageous to believe – who could have thought two people could single-handedly bring peace to an entire planet?”

“It wasn’t single-handed,” Rose sniffles as she lets go of Ariz. “You two were brilliant, really. Without you, I don’t know what…” she trails off, her voice too uneven to speak. She laughs through her tears as Czif steps forward to hug her in turn, her own eyes glistening.

“The same can be said of the two of you. I’m so glad you convinced me to help you, Rose. The thought of what would have happened if I had refused will likely haunt me for a long, long time.”

“Don’t – You have too big a heart. You could never have stood by and let your world suffer.”

“I hope you’re right,” she replies, pulling back.

“She is,” Ariz jumps in, wrapping an arm around Czif’s waist to pull her back to him. They exchange such a warm look, so clearly full of love, that Rose can’t help a happy giggle from escaping her.

“I’m so happy for you two,” she says, and her smile widens even further when she sees them both darken with a blush.

“I could say the same for you,” Czif retorts, and Rose looks back towards the Doctor, who is being uncharacteristically silent, to see him hunched over the console, frenetically typing away on one of the monitors.  They all watch him as he pulls a data chip from it and steps back towards them.

“Here,” he says, handing it out to Czif. “I put a few things on here which should be helpful: ideas I meant to share about the treatment, the technical specs of some of the equipment – you can keep what we took out of the TARDIS, by the way, you need it more than I do – a few suggestions I think could improve your energy production… It’s not much, but it’s all I could think of on short notice.”

She takes the chip from his hand, looking at him with a stunned expression.

“What – You didn’t have to – This will be… invaluable, I –” She shakes her head, giving up on words and wrapping her arms around the Doctor instead.

“It’s my pleasure. Rose is right, you two are brilliant. Your planet is in good hands,” he says, laying a comforting hand on both of the Drazfins’ shoulders.

They smile at him and thank them again before walking back slowly towards the doors, Czif supporting Ariz in something that looks more like a walking hug than anything else.

They are almost at the door when Rose can’t stop the question that has been burning her lips for the past few minutes.

“What about one little trip in the TARDIS with us? As a thank you?”

They stop and look at each other for a moment before turning back to Rose.

“Thanks, but I think we’ve seen enough excitement to last us for a while.”

She nods back sadly, and a moment later the two Drazfins have stepped out of the ship.

The Doctor walks forward to quietly close the doors before going back to the console, flicking a few controls as he prepares their departure.

“When you said that their planet is in good hands, you didn’t just mean in general, right? You saw something in their future, didn’t you?”

The Doctor smiles at her, extending a hand that she takes without hesitation. He pulls her to him, wrapping her in his arms as she rests her head against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his double heartbeat.

“Hmm,” he hums noncommittally. “They’ll be great, don’t worry.”