A/N: Started writing this at 11:30 last night, couldn't get it off my mind this morning, and now have a huge a ton of procrastinated homework to deal with. Enjoy my efforts if you please, and all reviews will be celebrated with virtual cake and thank you's. :)

Disclaimer: Yes, yes, I do--*coughs*--I mean, DO NOT own Doctor Who.

No Crystal Ball, He Knows The Ending Anyway

"And that one?" Rose asks, pointing upwards, towards a star with a green tint.

They're on Earth, present day, in a park somewhere. He finds he doesn't really care to remember the name. It's dark, the perfect night, navy blue with no lights to disrupt the world above them.

"Purple mangos, can you believe it? Absolutely brilliant, purple mangos. Not the best taste though."

He has to remind himself that she asked him a question, and he has to answer but they're lying down, on his overcoat that just covers the slightly dewy grass and her blond hair is spread out messily, and he's just lightly running his fingers through the tips.

He doesn't mention it, and neither does she, because they're not going to push things, not today, not right now.

"Not like bananas?" she teases him, glancing over with her hazel eyes.

And he wonders what she would do, if he just leaned over and kissed her.

But he won't, he tells himself.

Because he's the Doctor and she's Rose, and right now, those names aren't blessings, they're prisons. Because of all those civilizations out there, all those people, he would choose her above them.

And the world might need them, but he needs her.

So he won't kiss her, not even for a second, not even when they're lying down spread out before the world and he thinks he might run out of breath talking to her.

Because he could so easily forget about the future, the future where she's going to leave, whether or not it's her choice, and he's going to feel—

Like he ran out breath finally, and there's no one by his side, who's still breathing, to encourage him to do the same.

So he can't kiss her because he knows that in the end, it'll hurt more than it felt wonderful.

And when he's telling her all about those stars up there that they'll visit, he wishes that she'll stay as bright as she is right now, when they lay down on a planet just to watch the stars, and he's whispering their names into her hair, his lips almost touching her.

Almost.

And he hates that, because he wants to close that distance, and it's not the names of the stars he should be whispering, it's hers.

And when they get up, to head back to a blue box parked on a street corner that no one gives a second look, with no idea how close they are to something timeless, he whispers her name, just for a second.

"Rose."

Only a second. Then his resolve is back up, and when she looks back at him, and they grasp each other's hands, he pushes his thoughts down.

And maybe, when he's not looking, she glances at him, at all the things she knows will never happen. And then she shakes it off, and he smiles at her, and they're both back.

And they wander around with strangers for a while, content with silence and small glances, before heading back towards the place they both call home.

And so, as he jokingly waves her into the TARDIS first, she never catches the last glance he gives her.

It's full of stars, and painful secrets, and even more painful feelings, and the nights they spend together under a universe that has no remorse for the time when it will finally pull them apart.