I was going to wait until after my 30 Thoughts story was done, but I wanted to see what kind of response I would get for this story. I was a bit nervous to post it, to be honest. The Ninth Doctor has a special place in my heart and I wanted to do him some justice in my story. So, I bit the bullet and decided to post it. The story is already written, but I'd be happy to take suggestions if there are any. Hope you like it :)

And of course I don't own Doctor Who. I do, however, own books, dvds, a poster and a Regeneration figurine set with the Ninth and Tenth Doctor :)

*Tense problems were brought to my attention...if there are anymore, I'm sorry!

Borrowed Time

Sometimes, the Doctor wished he could sleep. To be able to tumble into nothingness, to pass out for most of the night and wake up looking and feeling refreshed with no memory of the night's worries.

Like a human.

The Doctor sighs into the silence of the deserted hallway of the Tardis. Slowly, he walks down the corridor when he suddenly comes to a stop outside Rose's room. She had left the door open, much to the Doctor's amazement. Rose was always so private. Hesitantly, but not having enough of a will to push himself away, he leans his slender form against the doorway. He smiles down at his slumbering companion, her blond hair fanning on her pillow, her rosy lips smiling mysteriously. The Doctor smiles in response, just as he always does. Just then, Rose turns on her side, facing the doorway. She did it so suddenly that the Doctor thought she had seen him there.

He takes a step closer. "Rose?" he whispers. He's greeted by a gentle snore escaping her slightly open mouth. He chuckles in relief. But now he realizes that he was close enough to touch her, something the Doctor could never resist doing, whether it was him hugging her or touching her arm, he always found a way – subconsciously sometimes…consciously most of the time.

He rarely had this chance, however. To see a still, unknowing Rose was rare to come across. She was always there next to him, smiling up at him or asking question after question that he was always so happy to answer. It made him proud to know that she had wanted to ask questions and not merely be content with standing by watching events pass her by.

How could he let such an opportunity slip through his fingers?

So, the lonely Time Lord steps closer to his loyal friend. The closer he got to her, the more beautiful she became. Is that even possible, the Doctor asked himself. As he looked at her fair skin, her pouty pink lips – he knew that in her case, it was. He reaches out, his hand visibly shaky, much to his embarrassment. Good thing she's asleep, he thinks. He touches her hair with his fingertips, the slight sensation warming his usually cool skin. He runs his fingers through the golden locks, ultimately reaching the side of her face. Feeling her skin under his touch, he feels the blood rushing to his face. He touches her cheek gingerly with his thumb. Suddenly, he senses the hard thumping of his hearts. The sensation terrifies him and he instantly moves away from Rose, as if she had burned his very core. Trying very much to be quiet, he steps through the doorway, closing it clumsily on his way out into the hall. He slumps his back on the wall opposite her door, dragging in a ragged breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Unable to register his thoughts and more horrifying, his…feelings…he begins to walk briskly to the console room. What's wrong with me, he thinks, it's only Rose…she's my best mate, my loyal companion… Deep inside, a place where he had long since given up on, he knew there was something else…something more there, but he couldn't grasp it, he couldn't let it linger…

Just then, as only a Time Lord could tell, he felt a change in the atmosphere. Someone is touching my ship, he accused suddenly. In an instant, he ran down the corridor, reaching the heart of the Tardis quickly. Then he sees him. The Doctor comes to an abrupt stop, almost tripping over nothing in the process. That's…that's not possible, he thinks.

"Oh, but you like impossible, remember?" he says.

The Doctor's jaw drops. No, is the only thing he can think.

"Oh, yes," says the man with the large ears.

The Doctor tumbles back a step. You can't be here.

The man in the green jumper and beaten up leather jacket smiles his manic grin, from big ear to big ear.

"And yet I am. How's that, then?" he smirks.

Before the Doctor could think in response, the Ninth Doctor chirps in, "And can you talk out loud, the telepathy is givin' me a headache."

The Doctor, was for once, quite speechless.

Thank you for reading :)

*Also, take note that this isn't meant to be the end of the story...there will be more chapters up soon...