Title: Don't Make My Mistakes
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: K+
Genre: Romance, Friendship
Characters/Pairings: Eleven, Kazran, Nine/Rose
Spoilers: For A Christmas Carol (the Doctor Who version, from Christmas 2010) and the end of The Doctor Dances (S1)
Summary: Eleven reflects on exactly where his advice to Kazran came from.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Billie Piper and David Tennant wouldn't have left for a very long time. So it's maybe a good thing that I don't.
A/N: This sort of came out of a discussion on LJ about whether all those 'true love' remarks and themes in Christmas 2010 episode were subtle Rose references, or hardcore foreshadowing. I want the former, I expect the latter, and if I can find any excuse to write Doctor/Rose into this latest series I'll take it.

Oh, and sorry for the italics.

"It's either that or go to your room and invent a new kind of screwdriver. Don't make my mistakes."

The Doctor pointed at Kazran, and pushed him towards Abigail, "Now, go!"

He grinned to himself then practically ran to the TARDIS, leaving the two youngsters to their own business. He moved off into the TARDIS, and resolved to wait for Kazran, to make sure the lad didn't need anything before he moved on to next Christmas.

But, as he sat in his new jump seat, in his new console room, he couldn't help but remember something else. Another room, with coral struts and golden lighting and turquoise floors. Another blonde, this one in his arms, laughing her head off, the music in the background more Glenn Miller than Dickensian opera.

And for that moment, he allowed his eyes to close and a memory forged in black leather and big ears to overwhelm him.

The Doctor spun Rose once more around the console, reveling in the feel of her hand in his, his arm around her waist, right where it belonged. He shot one more grin in Jack's direction, his intention clear: hands off my girl.

Jack, to his credit, took the message. He grinned, raised his hands in supplication, and headed off into the TARDIS corridors, hands in his pockets. The fact that Rose didn't notice his departure felt like a victory: she was too caught up in his dance and his music in his ship to notice her latest pretty boy's vanishing act.

And finally, the music slowed, and the fast paced, big-band charleston changed to a slower, sweeter track that prevented their spinning and dipping, forcing them to simply sway. The Doctor had to give the TARDIS some credit - the slow-down was done so skillfully that Rose didn't even notice the difference, her fast footwork and rhythm evolving naturally into a relaxed waltz, her eyes locked on his.

It was at this moment, the Doctor realised, that the guy is supposed to pull the girl closer into his chest. But of course, as a Time Lord he didn't do such things, so of course he hadn't already done so unconsciously. As she began to relax and fold herself into his arms, he definitely wasn't supposed to look down adoringly at the top of her bottle-blonde hair, or to lean down and brush his lips just lightly on the crown of her head.

But he did, unthinkingly, blind instinct and desire to do so taking control before his rational brain could muster any force. And then her face had moved, her neck craning to look up into his eyes, an unspoken question in the air.

Of course, sod's law being the driving force in the Doctor's universe, this was the moment that his rational, mathematical, logical brain decided to break up the party. Because this was Rose, his best friend, his companion, the nineteen-year-old angel he'd brought along for the ride. He couldn't lose her, not now. He couldn't take that last step, break that last barrier.

He couldn't bring himself to lower his head that little bit further, to brush his lips against hers and proceed to show her just how well he could really dance.

His hearts were beating to damn fast and his head was reeling, and he knew, just knew, that this was it. This was their event horizon, their point of no return. And he was too much a coward, too nervous and scared of what it could all mean, too old and too stupid to cross it.

"Rose…" He started to move back, and the TARDIS, sensing his decision, brightened the lights and faded the music out, "It's been a long day…" He couldn't think of a single reason to get out of there, but he knew that if he stayed, looking at her, her mouth still so temptingly close, that all that logic and thinking his way out would disappear.

"Tell me about it." She grinned, but her eyes weren't clear, she was puzzled, watching him for his next move.

"I think the sonic's a bit… worn out, it needs… recharging!" He had a sudden bolt of inspiration, huge false grin in place.

"Oh, okay." She tried to smile with him, "I'll go put the kettle on, fancy a cuppa?"

"Sounds fantastic!" He kept beaming, while trying to back away, "I've got to go do some repairs, I'll come get it in a while." He practically fled the console room, rounding corners and running through corridors until he was safely in his room, at his desk, alone.

He spent the next five hours adding a few new settings, nicked off Jack's blaster.

The Doctor smiled, an unexpected smile, at the memory. He turned to greet Kazran as he rushed back inside, breathing heavily, a huge, dopey grin on his young face.

"Well," The Doctor matched his friend's grin, "I did tell you once that we'd end up staying up and talking about girls."