Thousand Ways
by Daydreamishly

Rose Tyler stood in the arch that separated her kitchen from the main hallway of her flat and concluded, primarily, that whatever was going on here (for she was not able to begin to comprehend the wreckage that was around her), it was far, far too early for it. She let her eyes settle on a familiar set of shoulders in the the grey t-shirt she had provided as sleeping clothes, which shuddered with exertion as the man belonging to them fiddled with something Rose could not see from her angle.

"You're up," she observed by way of announcing her presence, and the neck attached to the man attached to the shoulders swiveled, revealing bespectacled eyes and a brilliant smile.

"Couldn't sleep!" He answered cheerfully, and returned to his work. Rose shifted from her lean against the wall, plucked awkwardly at her pajama bottoms, and moved to the cabinet to retrieve her kettle.

"Any more." She corrected.

"Pardon?" He glanced back at her.

"You couldn't sleep any more. You've been doing so for the last week."

"Oh! Oh, right. Well," he drawled in a familiar fashion, "Turns out regeneration is kind of taxing on a human form. And just think, I'm the only person in the universe to know that first hand."

Rose blinked owlishly from the tap, where she was filling the kettle. Her mother hated when she used tap water for tea, and normally Rose would agree, but it had been a long week, and Rose had yet to do any shopping, and her cupboards were bare of any provisions, even drinking water. "You didn't seem too tired... Before." While they were confronting the Daleks, she meant, but didn't want to rush headlong into a conversation neither of them were particularly inclined to have yet.

"Adrenaline." The Doctor explained, still grinning. "Amazing what the human body can withstand under pressure."

"So once the pressure was gone, you just sort of collapsed," Rose surmised, and set the kettle on the stove burner. He didn't answer, which Rose took as assent, and changed the subject. "What've you... Is that my blender?"

The Doctor paused in his work, and glanced at her, before looking back to the entrails of the mechanical device on the table before him. He ran a hand through his hair. "Well... Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is."

"You took apart my blender."

"Looks like."

"Can you put it back?"

"I could," the Doctor agreed. "But it would ruin this." He tossed her an object he had been holding before that she had not noticed, and she instinctively caught it. When her brain finally caught up with what exactly she was holding, she looked for all the world like Dr Frankenstein had just introduced her to his monster.

"Is this... A spoon?"

"Oh yes. A sonic spoon."

"My spoon."

"Well. Yes."

Rose turned the peculiar object over in her hand. At this point in its development, it looked like a spoon with a bunch of computer chips glued to its handle. She gave the Doctor a less-than-impressed stare.

"You're turning a spoon into a sonic device."

"I needed the screwdriver to dismantle the blender!" He said defensively.

"So a spoon was your next best option? This thing looks ridiculous." Rose scrunched her nose at the atrocity in her hands, and had to laugh. "No fork? Knife? Anything?"

"Nah. Knife's a weapon. Can't have people getting the wrong idea!" And whether this was meant as an implied assurance that he was not the murdering psychopath his fully Time Lord counterpart had suggested, Rose didn't quite know, and wasn't quite ready to discuss. Which was all the better, because her kettle was whistling. She quickly busied herself with the loose leaf strainer and two mugs, and when she had poured the water she set one in front of the Doctor, and sat down on the other side of the table.

"Should have waited until I got up. We could have gotten you materials for your very own sonic spork."

"Sonic spork," the Doctor chuckled. "I like that."

"I like you."

They smiled warmly and a little awkwardly with each other, a week of barely talking having soothed the immediate sting of loss for both of them, but also giving them time to over think the bay side kiss, and what it had meant. What had happened at the Bay had been impulsive and isolated, and neither had had the physical or emotional fortitude, respectively, to attempt to reconcile the idea of their unplanned meeting and subsequent stranding in an alternate universe to a daily life. For the first time since that afternoon, Rose looked at this Doctor, really looked at him, and let her mind wander with the possibilities.

He looked the same, Rose thought, exactly the same, but completely different. Maybe it was the t-shirt and sweat pants that she would never have found her Other Doctor in, but Rose suspected it had something more to do with a youth, a vivacity, a newness that replaced his Other's ancientness. Rose had loved and been awed by the profoundly archaic wisdom behind the Time Lord's eyes. This new man, however, who was new in a contrary sense of the word, had all the memories that gave that wisdom without any of the weariness. Yes, he had killed thousands of Daleks, and that was inexcusable (she certainly did not excuse herself from the same crime, possessed as she was by omnipotence), but the Other Doctor had outgrown that quickly enough. Surely this one would, too, and without the burden of survivor's guilt that lay with the counterpart. And while it ached her to think of the Other, whose heart would have to be mended by Donna and then someone else and then someone else and someone else until the end of time, perhaps, and likely never be fully healed, part of her took solace in the fact that this half, at least, she could help find some sort of equilibrium between justice, happiness, and conscience.

"Come here," the Doctor instructed suddenly.

"Why?"

"I didn't tell you to ask why, I told you to come here."

She walked to his side of the table and he turned in his seat to face her, and flashed another grin before reaching out. Rose thought he was going for her hand, but instead he gently unclenched her fist from the sonic spoon, which she had forgotten she was holding, oddly enough. "Now watch," the Doctor instructed, and picked up an ink pen on the table in front of him, pressed a few tiny buttons with its ball point, and a small holographic projection emanated from a light source on the spoon Rose couldn't readily determine. "Different sonic devices have different settings, of course," The Doctor said, returning the spoon to Rose's hand, "but it's commonly suggested that setting three hundred seventy-six be the same on all devices. A signature of sorts, so if a device is found, it can be more easily returned. Hold on, give it a minute to- there we go."

The projection flickered once, and when it returned, the words "SONIC SPOON: PROPERTY OF THE DOCTOR AND ROSE TYLER."

"You're giving me partial ownership?"

"Well, it's your spoon, after all."

"And my blender."

"And you microwave oven," The Doctor agreed. And reluctantly added after Rose's indignant noise, "And your coffee maker."

"You've mutilated my kitchen to make a sonic spoon," Rose sighed, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know," The Doctor admitted, suddenly serious, accepting the spoon as she handed it back, "what you will do."

Rose gazed down at him and met his eyes before letting a smile slowly spill across her face. "I guess I could always travel and fight bad guys and save the world,"

The Doctor's answering smile was sincere, but hesitant. "Alone?"

"Why, don't you want to come with?"

The Doctor shook his head and stood, putting human arms around her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Rose Tyler," he said, "I would love nothing better."

A/N: I don't know how this happened. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... Happened. The title is an allusion to "Thousand Ways" by Tallest man on Earth, which really pertains more to the Time Lord Doctor than the Human Doctor, but it was still vaguely relevant. So, um, please review, I guess? I don't even know how it turned out right now; I can't bare to look at it yet. It took my about forty-five minutes, and my head is still reeling from the suddenness of it. This is the first time I've tried writing these characters, and I realise my grasp on them was probably tentative at best, but I think I got them at least somewhat accurately. Any discrepancies that may have occurred between this and canon information are, um, apologised for in advance. I know admittedly less about the universe than I should, but I think I got away with this much, at least. Don't know, don't know. Anyway. Reviews are encouraged, constructive criticism especially. Always looking to improve my writing. No intended second chapter or sequel, although I could probably be persuaded in writing a set of similar anecdotal chapters if there was interest in such a thing. Maybe I could even scrape together a plot, I don't know. Wouldn't it be grand if Davies did a spin-off for them? I was thinking of that today. It may seem like a dead end emotionally, because I mean, the main ship is pretty much canon from the start, but there could be side-character drama, or something. Yes, rambling, right. So, anyway, thanks for reading, especially if you got through all these teal deer here in the author's note. That's all. Really. I'm going now. Oh god, I'll be so lonely without you. You'll write, won't you? Of course you will. Alright. I love you, lady. Buh-bye, now.