AN: This is the series four rewrite in my series, Being to Timelessness. If you haven't read the series and want to dive in here, the high points are that the Doctor and Rose are married with a telepathic bond, and Rose's physiology has been altered by Bad Wolf in many ways-not all of which known to them yet. Most notably, she has time senses.

If you want to catch up on the series, there's a full listing with links on my profile page.

Chapter One: New Year, New Beginning

At first, Rose thought the Christmas carols were part of her dream. She and the Doctor were dancing again, just like they had on the Titanic a year ago—only this time, without the threat of a nuclear apocalypse getting in the way.

"Rose Tyler," he whispered as he spun her out, then pulled her close.

Rose's free hand crept up over his shoulder to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Rose, you need to wake up. Come on, love, I'm waiting for you."

Rose blinked as she left the dream and woke up to an empty bed and the distant strains of Christmas music playing.

Finally, the Doctor teased. I've been trying to wake you up for thirty minutes.

Rose rolled her eyes and put on her new Christmas pyjamas—red flannel with penguins this year. Coulda just come back and pulled me out of bed, she pointed out as she left their room.

She felt him raise an eyebrow. An effort which had equal chance of ending with you pulling me back into bed, he countered. And delightful as those mornings are, it's Christmas! Time for presents!

The library door was ajar, letting Christmas music spill out into the corridor. Rose pushed it open all the way and took a moment to admire the decorations they'd put up together.

The tree was in front of the hearth, with red and white fairy lights twinkling merrily. Two stockings hung on the mantel, and the Doctor had strategically dangled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling over the couch. When Rose had asked if they really needed an excuse to kiss, he'd winked and told her they didn't need an excuse, but he'd take every opportunity.

Right now, Rose took the opportunity to look at him, kneeling in front of the tree in his dark green, reindeer print pyjamas. His joyful excitement was so different from how they'd felt last Christmas.

She had less than a minute to watch him before he realised she was there. "Rose!" He jumped to his feet and jogged to her side. "Come on—Father Christmas came!"

Rose laughed and shook her head as she settled into the corner of the couch. They'd both wrapped their gifts to each other and tucked them away in a cupboard, and the TARDIS had agreed to put them under the tree on Christmas morning. The magic of the illusion made her feel like a kid again, waking up to a pile of presents.

As soon as she was seated, the Doctor grabbed a handful of small gifts and one large box and placed them at her feet. "Do the big one last," he requested as he gathered his own gifts, then sat down next to her.

"Yeah, you too," Rose agreed.

They grinned at each other, then each picked up a smaller present and ripped the paper off. "Careful with that one," the Doctor said, just in time. Rose carefully tipped up the box and a delicate Christmas ornament made of spun glass rolled out onto her palm.

"It's made from the sand on Ekbrilon," he explained. "That's how it shimmers the way it does."

Rose held it up and let the firelight reflect through the bauble. "It's gorgeous, Doctor. I'm going to hang it up right away."

They enjoyed the next few minutes as they unwrapped the trinkets they'd bought each other over the last year, little souvenirs from the trips they'd taken. Each one was met with a delighted laugh and a shared memory.

Finally, all that remained were the large gifts. "You first," the Doctor insisted.

Rose picked up the box, wrapped in cheery red paper, and looked over at the Doctor. He'd been giddy all morning, but now it almost seemed like he was about to burst into laughter.

"What are you up to?" she muttered as she took the bow and put it on top of his head.

"What makes you think I'm up to something?"

"Now I know you are." But she ripped the paper off anyway and opened the box… only to find another wrapped box inside. "Oh, you didn't."

He chuckled. "Keep going, Rose, or don't you want to find out what your present is?"

Rose glared at him as she went through five different boxes. "You're a git, you know that right?"

"Maybe, but I actually did have a reason."

Rose opened a box a little bit bigger than a paperback book, expecting to find another, smaller box inside. Instead, resting on a nest of tissue was a thin wallet.

"Is this what I think it is?" Rose asked as she picked it up. The deep navy leather was soft in her hands, and when she flipped it open, all it contained was a blank piece of paper.

"Do you like it?" the Doctor asked. "I thought… sometimes it might come in handy for us each to have our own."

Rose closed the psychic paper, then opened it again and showed it to him.

"'I love it, but you're still a git,'" the Doctor read aloud, chuckling when he got to the end. "I had to do something to disguise what it was, though," he pointed out.

"I suppose…" Rose stretched up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Doctor. This was the perfect gift."

The Doctor smiled back at her, but his gaze drifted to the box at his feet. It had been surprisingly heavy when he'd moved it over, and he was dying to find out what was inside.

Rose laughed. "Go ahead. It's your turn."

He bounced lightly in his seat, then picked up the box and rested it on his legs. "Well I know you didn't use the nesting boxes trick," he commented as he tore the paper off. "Unless your gift is a small box of bricks, this is way too heavy for that."

"Just open it!"

Rose's excitement caught the Doctor's attention, and he paused to look at her. She was sitting on the edge of the couch with her hands clenched around the cushion, and her lip was caught between her teeth.

"Why do I have a feeling my gift is about to be upstaged?" he queried as he opened the box.

He looked down at the contents, then blinked in confusion. "The complete Harry Potter?" Books were always an excellent gift, but a set of books they already owned dozens of copies of didn't really match with how excited she was.

"Look closer," Rose urged.

The Doctor pulled Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone out of the box. It was the standard Bloomsbury cover with Harry in front of the Hogwarts Express. He flipped the book open and glanced over the title page, and his hands shook a little when he saw the 1 indicating it was a first edition, first printing.

"Are they all first editions?" he asked, his voice going a little squeaky.

Rose nodded, her eyes shining. "The TARDIS and I went back to buy them all." She pointed at the box. "And take a look at book seven!"

The Doctor carefully set down the book that would one day be one of the most sought-after first editions in history, and picked up the final volume. When he opened the front cover, two pieces of vellum fell out.

His fingers trembled when he picked one up. Paper like that was mostly used for fancy invitations, and he finally thought he knew what Rose had done.

"Invitations to the charity gala with Jo Rowling on the twenty-fifth anniversary of Harry Potter," he said, feeling breathless. "How did you… this is… Rose!"

The Doctor set the book down and awkwardly pulled Rose as close as possible when he had a box in his lap. You are incredible, he told her as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

Later, after Christmas turkey and crackers, they went to the study with their pudding and mulled wine and curled up together in front of the fireplace. "This was a much better holiday than last Christmas," Rose murmured.

The Doctor took a bite of sticky pudding and hummed his agreement. "For once, we celebrated Christmas without anyone trying to kill us."

"That's a holiday tradition I'd be happy to let die." Rose licked her spoon. "Though if we're going to get back to travelling, I assume we'll run into trouble on Christmas again sometime."

She felt his mind wander, and twisted to look up at him. "What are you thinking?"

A sheepish smile crossed his face, and a tiny bubble of excitement encompassed them both. "My present," he admitted. "I was wondering when we can go to the gala."

Rose pressed her lips together to hide her smile. "Well, I actually thought we could go on your birthday." The wave of dismay that hit her made her laugh.

"But… but that's almost a year away," the Doctor protested.

"Is it?" Rose pretended to count the months off on her fingers. "January, February, March, April…" The Doctor tickled her ribs, and she collapsed against him, giggling madly.

When she recovered, his full lower lip was jutting out in a pout. Rose flicked it lightly, then gave him a quick kiss. "We don't often let anticipation build," she pointed out. "Imagine how excited you'll be on your birthday when you've been waiting for almost a year." After a moment, she could feel his reluctant agreement and knew they'd be waiting.

"I'm not going to make you wait a year to use your present," he muttered.

"Well, that's because my present was a practical tool," Rose reminded him. She thought of her new psychic paper, sitting on her vanity next to her sonic screwdriver, ready to go the next time they left the TARDIS. A moment later, she started laughing again.

The Doctor blinked down at Rose, torn between enjoying her happiness, and wondering what exactly had tickled her so much. He could feel the affection in her laughter fizzing over the bond, and he suspected he was again the source of her amusement.

Finally, her laughter died down and she looked up at him, eyes sparkling and a wide smile on her face. "So, the Christmas we met Donna, you gave me a sonic screwdriver. This year you gave me psychic paper. We already share the TARDIS—" The ship hummed her agreement—"so I'm just wondering what you'll give me next year." She reached out and ran her hand over his tie. "A suit to match yours?"

Rose in a suit. Rose in his suit. Rose wearing his suit jacket unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up a few times. The Doctor felt lightheaded as the pictures formed in his brain.

Rose's tongue peeked out from behind her teeth as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the Doctor knew she was perfectly aware of the direction his thoughts had gone.

Tease, he told her as he pulled her into his lap. He tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers, sighing in satisfaction when her lips immediately parted to allow him to deepen the kiss. He caught a hint of the spiced red wine they'd shared earlier, and his tongue darted into her mouth to get a better taste.

Oh, Doctor, it's only teasing if I don't plan to follow through.

Coupled with the way the nails of one hand scraped over his scalp while her other hand tugged his tie loose, the seductive promise in her voice made him groan. He tried to pull her closer, but instead, Rose broke the kiss and stood up.

"Come to bed with me, love."

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor stared up at their bedroom ceiling, willing himself to stay still. Rose was asleep beside him, and he knew if he didn't stop his restless twitching, he'd wake her up. But there was an itch at the back of his mind that demanded attention, and finally, he sighed and slid out of bed as silently as possible.

Clad in only his pyjama bottoms, he followed the tug he now recognised as the TARDIS into the study. What is it, old girl? He ran his hand over the mantelpiece. What was so important you needed to get me out of bed to tell me?

Look closer, she urged, just like Rose had that morning. She turned on the lighting they'd installed above Rose's paintings, and he walked over to them.

He rested his fingers on the frame housing the painting she'd done on Ekbrilon, and his lips curved up in a smile. They'd had a long year, walking out of the darkness the Master had left them in, but they were finally truly home. He felt the familiar excitement to travel and quickly dampened it before his eagerness woke Rose up.

After a moment, he shifted and looked at the painting she'd finished a few weeks ago. The TARDIS hummed, and he knew this was what she wanted him to look at.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the painting. He glossed over the obvious happiness of the Rose and Doctor stretched out beneath the stars—she wouldn't have woken him up to look at that.

Something about the planet, then, he mused, studying what little he could make out of the landscape that, of course, was shrouded in the dark of night. They were parked in a hillside meadow, but as he looked closer, he could see flowering trees nearby. A few translucent pink petals had been caught in the wind and blew through the air above them.

Something about the colour tugged at his memory, and he let part of his mind continue working, trying to place what tree that might be. With the rest of his brainpower, he examined the painting for more clues.

Mountains in the distance, he realised, noticing the way the horizon cut off higher than would be expected.

His gaze moved up to the stars that his pictorial self was explaining with such animation. He shook his head again at the attention Rose paid to detail. She hadn't simply dotted the sky with light coloured paint; she'd used different colours and brushes to indicate stars of differing sizes, grouped together in constellations.

In fact… His eyes narrowed and he leaned a little closer. Those constellations looked very familiar, and when he located the bright swath of the galaxy's spiral arm cutting through the corner of the night sky, he knew he was right.

And the flowers. The trees with delicate pink blossoms. It all added up.

Bittersweet nostalgia lodged in his hearts, and the Doctor sat down on the couch and stared into the fire. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how Rose had painted such accurate star charts for a planet she'd never visited, when he remembered the way TARDIS had forced him to notice the details of the painting.

He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. She won't be happy with you if you planted an idea in her mind without asking.

The feeling of a sentient but non-corporeal being rolling their eyes at him was still slightly surreal, even if he'd experienced it enough times in their millennium together to be accustomed to it.

The Doctor shook his head. You know how she feels about having her brain messed with.

The ship replied with a picture of Rose as the Bad Wolf, and the basic sense that, We are one.

Yeah, tell her that and we'll see what she says.

The Doctor stood up and walked back to their room, laughing softly when the TARDIS' hum finally took on a slightly worried note. He patted the wall as he got into bed—they both knew that however irritated Rose might be at first, she would quickly forgive the ship's intrusion.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose eyed the Doctor as he navigated them through the Vortex. He'd been in an odd mood all week—not quite sad, but not happy either. Melancholy, maybe?

When she'd asked him about it, all he'd said was that there was someplace he wanted to take her. On New Year's Eve, he'd clarified a moment later.

There was something so… wistful in the Doctor's request that Rose couldn't deny him. They'd spent a quiet week at home, catching up on Christmas specials from the last few years and reading Harry Potter again. The earlier agreement that they were ready to get back to travelling seemed to be put on hold, and Rose waited quietly to find out what had changed her Doctor's mind.

"I didn't change my mind," he corrected as he adjusted a dial. "After tonight, I'll be ready. I just wanted this to be our first stop. It's… you'll understand when you see it," he said, then threw the lever.

The landing was gentle, and when the Doctor held his hand out, Rose took it and let him lead her out of the TARDIS. Wherever he'd taken her, it felt like spring, with a hint of soft flowers in the air and a cool breeze making her grateful she'd worn a jacket.

It was night, and millions of stars twinkled down on them as the Doctor shrugged out of his coat and laid it on the ground. He lay down and patted the spot beside him, and as Rose took her place, something about the whole image they were creating felt familiar.

Up on the hill, the TARDIS door was open, letting just enough light spill out for her to see the Doctor's expression. He was waiting, anticipating her next words, and she knew she was right.

"This is my painting." A quick glance around the meadow confirmed that the floral scent she'd noticed detected came from pink blossoms on the trees. "You took me to the place I painted."

A moment later, another thought replaced that one. "Hang on, how did I paint a real place?"

The Doctor let out a soft huff of amusement. "For that, love, you'll have to ask the TARDIS. She wanted me to bring you here, so she planted an image of this place in your subconscious."

Rose sat up and glared at the ship. Immediately, a wave of apology washed over her.

The Doctor chuckled. "I told her you wouldn't be happy. She seemed to think it was all right because, 'We are one.'"

The ship's baffled contrition made sense then, and Rose sighed and lay back down beside the Doctor. "Well yeah, when we're Bad Wolf," she said, talking to both the Doctor and the TARDIS. "But if we're not, I expect a bit more courtesy if you don't mind."

The TARDIS agreed and apologised again, before gently pointing out a phrase Rose had missed earlier. She had wanted the Doctor to bring Rose here.

Rose rolled onto her side and studied the Doctor, taking in the subtle lines around his eyes and that same melancholy she'd sensed in him all week. She finally knew what it was—a word she'd heard once that didn't translate well to English. Saudade—the longing for someone or something that was lost forever.

As she watched him, his eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath, catching the fragrance of the spring flowers. His left hand drifted until his fingers sank into the soft grass, and when she tuned into the bond, she could feel him calculating every detail of the planet around him.

She glanced back up at the sky, filled with stars, then at the Doctor. "Where are we, Doctor?"

He took another deep breath, then opened his eyes and looked at her. "This is Revla."

The Doctor waited, holding still under Rose's scrutiny. He needed her to put the pieces together. Once she understood, he could fill in the blanks, but he couldn't bring himself to say the first words.

After a long, quiet moment, she pushed herself up on her elbow and brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "And… how close are we to Gallifrey?"

He smiled, feeling something release in his hearts when Rose spoke the words. "Revla was one of the closest planets to Gallifrey. Both worlds orbited stars in the Constellation of Kasterborous. Revla was just far enough away to be part of the TARDIS pilot training course—plotting a trip here and back would be akin to… oh, I don't know, the part of your driving exam where you go on the motorway?"

"It's beautiful here," Rose offered.

The Doctor snorted. "A fact which was completely wasted on most Time Lords," he told Rose. "Admiring nature was not really a thing—that's only the smallest of ways in which I am a renegade. Was a renegade," he amended immediately, but for once, the pang in his hearts at the past tense was more like a dull ache than a hot fire poker.

"Their loss," Rose said firmly. "Because look at those stars, Doctor. I've never seen anything like it."

He nodded. "I made my trip at night, and that was the first thing I noticed about Revla. So many stars, all waiting to be explored."

Rose scooted closer to him and rested her hand on his chest. "Tell me about them," she requested.

The Doctor scanned the sky for a system that Rose would know. "Oh!" He pointed to the top left quadrant. "See that dull yellowish star? No, not that one—the bigger one, close to the red giant."

"Yeah, I see it."

"Well, orbiting that star are two planets you know—Raxacoricofallapatorius and Clom."

"Home of the Slitheen and Absorbaloff." Rose chuckled. "I haven't thought of either of those adventures in so long."

"Me either," the Doctor admitted. "The Slitheen would be what… almost six years ago now." He rubbed at his eyebrow. "Blimey, time flies."

Rose poked him in the ribs. "Even for a Time Lord?"

"Especially for a Time Lord," he agreed. "Because I can see all of time spread out before me, but I can't stop it from moving. I can't stop things from changing. And I can't…" He took a deep breath. "I can't undo some things."

Finding and losing the Master had forced the Doctor to deal with the guilt of what he'd done yet again. Having Rose at his side and in his mind greatly reduced the loneliness of being the Last of the Time Lords, but it couldn't wipe away the results of his actions. All the children who had died that day, guilty of nothing more than being born on the wrong planet.

But after a moment, he forced himself to shove those thoughts back behind the door where he usually kept them hidden. As he'd just told Rose, he couldn't undo it, and if that was the case, dwelling on it wouldn't help.

The Doctor pointed at starless spot in the sky. "Right there. That's where Gallifrey was."

They were quiet for a minute, then Rose said, "Does it… it doesn't feel like it hurts you as much to talk about it as it used to."

The Doctor sighed. "It'll always hurt," he said, his voice soft. "But when I look at the sky here, and I see all the stars and all the worlds I've visited since I left home, and all the ones I still haven't touched, I remember why I had to end the War. Because if I'd let the Time Lords and Daleks continue fighting, all of this would have ended instead."

He reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "And you, Rose. You're an even greater reminder. Seeing the stars reminds me of the broad, universal importance of ending the war, but being with you makes it personal." He gestured at their surroundings—the meadow, the flowering trees encircling it, the mountains in the distance. "If I'd landed here six years ago, right after I ended the War, I wouldn't have been able to see the beauty of it. War steals that from you. But then I met you, and your… your passion, and joy, and the wonder on your face every time we step out of the TARDIS…"

For once, words failed him, and instead, he focused on their bond and made sure she understood that meeting her had done more than just save his life. It had given him permission to enjoy life again.

Rose blinked back tears. "That's why I love travelling with you, too. Because I thought I was trapped in that life, watching telly and eating beans on toast. Everyone said I couldn't expect to have anything more. But I met you and I realised I could do more. I could save the world. And I could see the stars."

There were no fireworks, but the Doctor and Rose could feel the moment the calendar turned over, bringing a new year and new opportunities. It was the perfect time to let go of the past and step into the future.

He drew a deep breath. "Well then, Rose Tyler. Where are we going to go first?"

She rested her head on his shoulder and they looked up at the stars together. Finally, she lifted her hand and pointed. "That way."

The Doctor followed where she pointed, immediately recognising the star system. "That way?" he whispered in her ear.

Rose brought her hand down and nodded. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as they both felt the first hint of exhilaration shiver through them.

"Yeah. That way."