So she left. What's the big deal? He hasn't followed her as far as she can tell; well save for following her to Naples, to understand as he called it. Why should he? He started this whole argument anyway, getting worked up about something out of her control, out of his control. She didn't get it, it wasn't as though they were together at the time, that she was back on her own, unattached, grieving and becoming someone she didn't like. But she wasn't able to change it. And looking back now…she's unsure if she even had wanted to. She was tired of being screwed by everything back then, so she knew she had thrown her hands up and no longer cared.

And then she met him. Looking back now, after saving his life, after spending so much time with him she realises the he helped her heal, in his own way of course, and that she had begun to pick up the very small pieces of her life that had been shattered upon John's death and returning to her proper universe. While the Doctor never explicitly said it, she knew he had wanted to hurl the insult of why she thought getting over someone was to get under someone new. And had he she would have given him the screaming match to end all. He didn't know anything about them. What's more important? He knew nothing of Charlie other than what history said. She had thought the same thing. The infamous gangster causing problems and trouble throughout his life, a one sided character in history. But that was not the case. He was remarkably complex, even if he tried to deny it.

He claimed to hate history, that isn't who he was, but he did know an awful lot about art history. When he'd taken her to the MET multiple times because she loved history, they would always end up wandering over to the art section, scarce in what they held by today's standards, he always had something constructive to say, the man was smart, not criminally though he was that too, but smart about a whole variety of things. He'd inevitably would have taught her a little something new that made her think about a particular work of art in another light. That and of course he loved to read as well. How many times had they simply lied in bed together, delaying the start of their days to read a few more pages, his hand would be on her knee. What a simpler time, how she had come to miss it so after the Doctor's insistence about continuing their fight about her sanity when she was with Charlie.

Yes, thank you, she knew that Charlie was a powerful man. Not in the good sense of course. She had been there when he had begun to strike people of his list. While she had initially missed the factions warring in the 20s, she had been around for the tail end. Which had included saving his life. Because he was a person who needed help, that was it. Someone who she hadn't known but who became exactly what she needed.

Which is why she supposes she's here. When she promised she wouldn't. Ever. But then again how could he have known he'd come back home? She had sworn about Naples only, her promise hadn't included Queens. So…she could be here…but she knew what he had meant back in the airport in Naples. They had been so full of life together. That's how he wanted her to remember him by. Life. But she hadn't done a good job, had she?

After they had been forced to part ways she had thrown herself into her work to help numb the pain. She thought fondly of their time together when she needed it but their separation had come and a couple months after that she was shot by the Sontarans, and guess who had found his way to Mercy? Not what she expected of course, but that had opened up Pandora's Box on her emotions, feelings, things that hadn't been dealt with, John's death, his abandoning her…the list went on. But it also meant that she had forgotten to remember Charlie because her life had become such a horrid mess, again. She and the Doctor had fallen into old patterns, they had attempted to fix the mess that was and is their life together. Because hell, she loved him, too. The three men in her life she loved for all different reasons. She felt guilty for forgetting about any of them when she's with the Doctor and they attempted to fix what had been broken between them.

But that's why she's here, isn't it? Their fight brought her here. She remembered him and everything they had for six months her time, six years for him. That's why she's standing in a cemetery in Queens on this beautiful autumn day. The scent of the leaves around her, the trees crowned with leaves of bright yellow, crimson and orange. The sun has dried out the grass. It would have been a perfect day to wander Central Park together after dinner, depending on how late they had gone out. It's the little things she misses now. The mundane and ordinary, to an extent. To be normal. Two humans so mismatched that they had created an amazing time together. An amazing life together. So she begins to wander through the lawns, hunting for what is in plain sight and yet removed so that you have to really look, lest you miss it. Done on purpose. There's more than one famous gangster buried here.

When she does spot it, she pauses, hesitating as she stands about ten feet from it. Is she really going to break her promise to him? Could she even? But she forces herself to go to him. Hoping that when she sat down he'd hear her, wherever he may be. So onward she continues.

She approaches from the rear, placing her hand on the top of the headstone when she's close enough, brushing off the dirt and then wiping her hands on her jeans. Is it odd she feels comforted already? Because she does. She sits on the ground with her back to the headstone and draws her knees closer, wrapping her arms around them. It feels so much better to be close to him even though she promised she wouldn't. She smiles into her knees.

'Well…who'd have thought I'd be here? I know not you, because I promised, but come on, that only covered Naples, yeah? Not New York?' She wonders with a small smile and imagines his crooked one. 'Any way you look at it…it's been too long, hasn't it, since 1936? Can I say I've missed you, that I missed what we had? Because, my god, do I ever.

'I am not having a good day I want to someone to vent to and tell me I'm right even if I'm wrong. To agree with me when you look me in the eyes…you know, all the stuff you used to do for me. To make me happier. Because you did. Did you ever know that? How happy you made me?

'Remember that man I told you about briefly, long before you and I ever met? The one who broke my heart? And you asked if you thought I'd ever see him again and said I didn't know, that it was possible. And you warned me to stay away from someone like that because people like that have patterns? Well, I sort of didn't listen. Big surprise to you, I know. But we reconnected unexpectedly and then things became a big mess. Again. He and I fight like you and I used to. Not to compare, it was just more of the tempers and how things heat up. That's all. But I much prefer the shortness of our fights and how well you and I made up afterwards.

'I've been thinking about you, a lot, lately. Can't help myself. I guess that's why I'm here. To be close to you, even if it isn't what or how you wanted. There's so much I want to share with you, I have so much I wanted to ask of you. I missed you so much, for weeks, after the trial. Hell, during the trial. What did you do after the War? I know you didn't stay in Italy because you can't stay out of trouble, that makes two of us, so where did you travel to? Did you go to Cuba? You did, didn't you? I tried to keep my nose outta it. We weren't together anymore, so it was none of my business.

'But what else? I want to sit somewhere with you in the morning, like we used to, and just talk. I miss that connection so much. I miss you, so much,' She pauses and wipes the tears away that have unexpectedly starting falling, hastily wiping them on her pants. 'Well, for me, it wasn't long after you and I went our separate ways, six months, I think, that I took on a rather large job. It nearly killed me. Literally. I got the hell outta Dodge, but I nearly didn't make it. That's when I met that man again. Life's been a hell of a mess ever since.

'I want to have the chance to go back to the simplistic times of then. Where I wasn't exactly who I said I was, still authentically me, though, but a toned down me. If only you could have seen the chaotic mess that is me. Would you still love me? Did you love me when I had problems loving myself?

'Seeing you in Naples…you said that you saw someone in Cuba that reminded you of me. It was me. I didn't know I went there but I guess I will be now that you said it. It will be so good to see you again, even if it won't be in the way you remember me. Even if I shouldn't be doing this, right? But I've always been sentimental about the past. And about you. You just got a little lost. That's all. But I found you and I'm ready to make up for it.'

Rose gets to her feet slowly, kissing her hand and places it on the headstone. She bites her lip before attempting a small and unsure smile. She turns and walks away, glancing over her shoulder to take one last look at the headstone before uttering three simple words. Hoping he hears her wherever he is.

Veni.

Vidi.

Amavi.

Rose pauses in her step, listening to the wind shift direction and it brings a familiar smell to her nose. The unmistakeable smell of cigarette smoke. The smell she always attributed to him and the brand he smoked. It still makes her heart flutter and she turns around in a small circle unexpectedly. She nearly expects to see him coming towards her but of course there is no one there save for a man leaning against the tall oak tree, eyes locked firmly with his mobile as he texts. His right hand is by his side, holding a cigarette and his face has a slight frown to it as he continues to stare at the screen. She smiles to herself. Obviously not him, so she continues onward, taking a quick glance at the man again, fashionable in his blue suit and grey tie. She swallows her nerves when he glances up and they lock eyes. She gives him a nervous smile.

He nods at her, dark eyes holding hers before his gaze is redirected by the sound of his mobile ringing. He answers it, and falls into an easy conversation. Ironically in Italian. Funny, that. So she hurries her own pace and feels the anticipation build within her at the thought of seeing Charlie again. She smiles to herself. Now, she has to be in Havana, doesn't she? Those feelings about him have been stirred within her. Like a craving she must sate. The only way to do so is to see him. To see him, hold him and kiss him passionately. Like they had before. And she wants that now more than anything.

Even if it will be under Ruby's guise. Just a quick stop to Russia to get some things and then it's off to Cuba. Reunited. And, hopefully, it will feel good.

It should have been the first place he went to not running all over hell's half acre looking for her. This place is important, why leave it last? The halls are quiet. As they should be, it's quite early in the morning. The herringbone wood floor is dull and worn down, there is no sheen left to the wood and he notices that the off white walls could use a fresh coat of paint, to freshen things up a bit. That and the plant at the corner of the hallway are being over watered. He should get a sign. Ekaterina's apartment is quiet, except for a soft murmur and he wonders if she's left the radio or television on. He stares over his shoulder as he sonics the lock on her apartment door. It clicks open and he walks in, leaving the door slightly ajar. To hear things. Just in case. He surveys his surroundings.

The short hallway leads into a rather spacious lounge. Large windows nearly wall to wall. Kitchen on the right, another short hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. The early morning sun is slowly peaking through the half drawn curtains, patches of yellow dot the herringbone floor. If she came by here, things were undisturbed. Her apartment looks as though no one has been in it for some time. However that may not be entirely true.

The corner of her area rug is folded over slightly, either someone tripped on it or someone has lifted it. What lies underneath? A clue about where she might be so he can talk to her about what transpired in Naples not that long ago? If she even wants to talk, he gets the feeling it'll be a no. He shouldn't have followed her there. Then again he had wanted answers. Because he thought for sure things hadn't been what they showed themselves to be. It couldn't have been what he thought. But it was. And worse. So, hell, he wanted an explanation. Her sassy remarks of deal with it essentially didn't answer anything. Her Moscow apartment hopefully would.

Imagine his surprise when he lifts the folded rug corner to find nothing but floor. Someone really had tripped over it. He gets back to a standing position and is about to continue wandering around when he notices something odd about the flooring. It's as if a certain section of it had been installed backward. The flow of the wood grain didn't match up with those surrounding it. So he lowers himself back down to the ground again and runs his hand over the small section. The pressure from his fingers must have tripped something because abruptly a small section of the floor becomes raised. Even to get his fingers under the lip and lift it off. There is a hole there and a shallow base underneath. Jackpot.

He smiles to himself as he reaches into the hole and feels around until his hand connects with something sturdy. He grips it carefully and shuffles it towards the opening of the hole and gently fishes it out. The box isn't large or small. Simple, constructed of wood, painted black. The lock is simple, doesn't require much other than simply removing it. So he does. What he finds is a trove.

No wonder there is so few pictures of him alone throughout the 30s. They did everything together. And the gifts he lavished on her. Wow. He opens the first box that he assumes to be jewelry and is stunned at what is staring back at him. He runs the sonic over the gem. Morganite. A hundred and twenty five carats of the pale pink gem. And the chain is constructed of diamonds as well. It's meant to look like a ribbon because where the bow ends are is where the Morganite sits. He carefully shuts the lid, it's very beautiful. He can only imagine the look on her face when he presented that to her. A few smaller cases, earrings or rings perhaps, so he directs his sights onto the stack of loose pictures that are collecting at the bottom. This should be good. It should explain the fascination she had with him or he with her.

He carefully scoops them out and braces himself as he studies the first one.

Strangely it's a self-picture of her, posing in one of his unbuttoned shirts, leaving little to the imagination, as it isn't buttoned up. Her hair slightly wild and untamed, using an of the period camera. She's making a face; eyes crossed and tongue out in the bathroom mirror. The camera sits in her hands, cradling it. But it's what he sees in the reflection of the mirror, standing behind her. The gangster, in the process of tying a tie while he holds back his smile and laughter. A year is scribbled on the back in her hand, 1930. He drops it back into the box. Not wanting to acknowledge how happy she appeared to be. Genuinely happy. How could he possibly make her happy? What did he give her that she couldn't find from someone else? Someone normal? Another is turned up right. A party of some kind, a large round table. Nine people at this table. Everyone is looking at whoever is taking the photo, except for them. They've eyes for only one another. 1930 once again. He drops that photo to look at the one under it. Same backdrop only this time fewer people at the table, engaged while they are actually looking at the camera. She has her head against his. He has his arm around her shoulders. He drops that one.

The next one…someone has been standing behind Rose, whose back faces the camera. She is in an open back dress, daring for the time. But the person taking the photograph is focused on the gangster. This must have been the first time he's seen how stunning she is. It has to be a high-class party because he's in a tux, and he's got his hand covering his mouth. To hide his surprise? Almost like a groom seeing his bride for the first time. Those that flank him have eyes on her too, goofy smiles on their faces, happy for their friend's luck. Scoring a dame that's a beauty.

He frowns, drops that one without checking the year. The next one, again same scenario. This time they're together. He's holding her at arm's length, her hands on his forearms. He's studying her. Soaking in her beauty, her curled hair…the Doctor holds the sonic under the photograph and it saturates itself in colour. Her dress is a deep sapphire colour, tight…she does look beautiful. He puts the sonic back into his jacket pocket and the photo fades back to its shades of grey.

He flips through more. A lot of her and a woman with dark hair. And what he assumes to be her children. One of Rose at a skating rink with said children. She has her hands in one of theirs, it's obvious. She's teaching them to skate. More dinner parties. Some scenic pictures, almost looks like Long Island. So she went to Long Island too? Probably the Hamptons. More parties, more celebrations. Her posing with whom he recognises as a young Carlo Gambino, together they're dancing. Another of her with the infamous Mad Hatter, he's serious looking and she's sticking out her tongue. Ah, her and Ben Siegel, Meyer Lanksy and her in another. A wedding? Huh. In each one of them, she and him and together. Close, barely out of one another's line of vision. The happiness in her eyes shines through her smile. She is dressed to the nines in every one. He remembers when they had been walking down the street the one time he managed to catch them together. They had looked good together, as much as he hated to admit it.

Some in a church, another of her in the same church, it's another self-photo. And then another of she and the gangster in a…Synagogue? How did that make sense? Oh but he remembers that there were Jewish associates he had; this must be related to family. Bar or Bat Mitzvah? So the one in the church must be a Communion. She went to support him as he supported his associates. She just fell right in there, didn't she?

A few taken while they're dancing together, well not in motion, obviously. Some of them are blurry. He wonders how many foxtrots they my have done together. He wonders how a man like him could handle an experienced dancer like Rose, a woman who only needs to be shown the steps once and they're committed to memory. He'd like to see them do a waltz; entirely certain that the slow pace of the dance would have driven her to madness. She needed to move and move quickly, he imagines people getting out of her way on the dance floor. How about the two of them doing the Lindy Hop? There's a scene he'd like to see.

Of course what he didn't know is that Rose's dance partner for the Lindy Hop was rarely Charlie. It was Ben Siegel. He was a great dance partner for that one. They moved with such fluidity, his energy always matched hers and they liked to be rather daring. Even if his girlfriend, Virginia Hill, despised her for that for how dare another moll attempt to usurp her perceived position as Queen of the Molls. Like Rose cared. But Ben had always gone to her first without seeking Hill's approval first. Charlie hadn't cared about it; he knew she'd always come back to him.

The Doctor didn't know she grew sad when Ben wasn't around and that dance began to play and she had to sit it out. Even to Rose she hadn't known why Charlie all of a sudden abruptly stopped around the fall of 1931, right when he had taken control of the crime scene in New York and she had always wondered if he had put a stop to any thing he did that might be perceived poorly by his associates. Well, they still had the foxtrot or the Baltimore. What about the Shag? No he promised that he wouldn't go looking for them anymore. Though he's curious again. He's picturing Rose in her beaded and fringed dresses, maybe, with her shoe straps tightened, maybe.

He flicks a few more until he comes to one he's certain he's seen before. Except it's altered. The one he's seen, that is. Two other men flank him. The ones that flank him are looking away from the person who has taken the picture while the gangster is staring at the photographer head on, a trademark glare of his. However clasping his hand tightly is Rose. Looking at the ground but it's obvious she clings to his hand; she looks distraught, avoiding eye contact. They have to be on the way to the trial, but the one he recalls seeing…she's not in it. Quick thinking girl…she's altered it.

He drops a couple more down, clearing his mind, before he gets to one and studies it carefully. They have their eyes locked; it appears as though they are in some kind of banquet hall, but for what. Again she's dressed beautifully and she's seated beside him, she has her body turned into his.

He flips that picture of her and him over. Scrawled on the back of it, in his hand no less, that's a shocker, is something simple and rather insightful no less. But he's unsure if it is tied to the picture of them. And her response in her flowery cursive, a conversation written between them at some event where they had to be silent. But obviously had other plans. He had started it. She attempted to finish it. Crammed together, he angles the photo several different times to understand it all. His writing somewhat sloppy, easy to read, while hers is angled and delicate. His writing is first.

We take photographs as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.

You are being awfully insightful.

Sometimes. I have a moment. Then it's business as usual. Have that one; I won't be giving another one for some time.

Stop. This isn't the place I should be laughing.

You do look rather serious.

Stop. An inkblot. Will this go on for longer? What did that mean?

Why, are you impatient?

Yes, I want to go back to the Waldorf.

Why?

You know why, smart-ass.

You do look rather nice in that dress.

Just nice? Her question must have been answered in another way because after she's written that something else is written beside it. Oh, I'll take that as a compliment.

Good. Pay attention. And stop distracting me.

You're the boss…

There isn't anything written after that except for her hand to write the year scribbled in the right hand bottom corner. 1932. The boss. Yeah, right. That's an understatement. He sure is.

That's rather nice, coming from a criminal. He hates to admit it, but Rose's smile in this picture is beautiful, genuine and so…happy. She looks like the happiest girl on the planet. All because she's in the embrace of that…still he can't say his name, but in his embrace. It looks as though light and dark have collided. She's so beautiful in that deep amethyst coloured dress when he holds the sonic under it again. He could go mad attempting to figure it out.

'What the hell are you doing?'

A voice rings out and he freezes. The pictures tumble to the floor. But it isn't Rose's voice that echoes around him. It's someone else's. Oh no. Did he break into the wrong apartment? Did she leave, move out and forget to take her things with her? He slowly gets to his feet and turns around. He frowns because the woman standing in the doorway looks like Rose upon first glance but the harder he looks the less she looks like Rose.

She's dressed in a tight black, floor length dress with a slit in the dress that runs up her thigh. Her thick, curly red hair is thrown lazily up and her pale green eyes look at him with disdain. The odd thing is that she questioned him in English, not Russian. Why? It just…doesn't seem right.

'I was looking for something.' He invents in Russian and the woman strides towards him. He notices that Ekaterina is watching the scene unfold from her spot in the doorway. So they're friends.

'In my flat?' She wonders, still in English and stops just before him, she glances down to the obvious hole in the floor and then back to him. She crosses her arms. He can see the rage festering. He'd better invent a good excuse quickly.

'I…thought it was my friend's.' What a good response to that. He had answered her in English; somehow she could tell he was a foreigner. Caught breaking into someone's apartment and that's the excuse he came up with?

'It is mine.' She declares and the Doctor nods his head quickly. Especially since she arches her eyebrow and demands further explanation.

'I…know. I'm sorry, I just thought…' He begins again when she interrupts him.

'Doctor, I know. So explain yourself. Because your hand is in the cookie jar. What are you doing in my flat going through my things?' She demands and the Doctor remains silent, studying her carefully. 'Focus on a spot on the wall over my shoulder.'

He does as he's instructed and instantly he can see Rose standing in front of him, only with the curly, thick red hair and pale green eyes. 'Rose?'

'Yeah. Hello. Again. What are you doing going through my things?' She questions and the Doctor tilts his head at her. Contacts and a wig? She eyes him and reaches into her mouth, pulling out something small he can't see and instantly her hair and eyes revert back to their normalcy. Bad luck for him, it exacerbates her anger at him.

'Ah, clever.' He replies and Rose continues to glare at him.

'Quit stalling, answer me. Why are you going through my things?'

Okay. Time to be truthful. 'I was looking for answers.'

'Still?' Rose questions and he looks away. Okay so she knows what he means. Damn. How's he going to get that one forgotten? 'Why can't you leave it alone? God dammit, it happened so long ago! Let it go.'

'I just wanted to understand.'

'You can't because you won't try. I won't explain it to you because I know you won't get it. So leave it where it belongs. In the past.' Rose says and he gives her another careful once over. The dress. Her hair. The need to hide herself. Why? And then it hits him.

'That's fine. I can leave it in the past. Can you?'

'Excuse me?' Rose takes another step towards him and he jumps up onto the couch to keep the distance between them. He holds his hands out to keep her back.

'Where did you go? A little time travel? You're dressed awfully nice. Where did you go? Night club? The Theatre? Casino?'

'Cuba.' Rose answers and feels her cheeks redden from the frustration. She exhales carefully and swallows her anger.

'1950? 1951…?'

'1946.'

'Huh. I recall someone illegally travelling there, right after they were deported from another country.' The Doctor replies and doesn't miss the fury that's been growing in her eyes ever since they started this conversation and he began fishing for answers.

'I went to see Sinatra.' Rose replies. Not a lie, that was true. He spilt an ice bucket on her when someone, a waiter she thinks, bumped into him from behind. That had led to their exodus. Back to his little place he'd been staying in since he arrived. Only after seeing Frank perform live.

'In 1946?'

'That's what I said.'

'In Cuba?'

Rose plants her fists on her hips. Why is he making this out to be a game? Does he think it's a game? Riling her up the way he does. No one does it better. 'Yes.'

'No other reason?' He confirms and Rose rolls her eyes at him.

'Should there be?'

The Doctor shrugs innocently. 'Well just a coincidence that it's 1946, in Cuba. You don't go as yourself, rather a guise. And we all know what happened in Cuba in 1946. So you saw him, didn't you?'

'Sinatra? I just said I did.'

'No. Not him. Him.'

Rose smirks at him. 'Say his name.'

'No.'

'If I was there when…Charlie was there. Pure coincidence.'

'I don't believe in coincidences.'

'Maybe you should.'

'Cuba…?' He questions again, as if trying to convince himself over and over again. Rose finds herself enjoying his attempts to understand why she went back. Well, you conjure up old feelings and, well, the rest is history. Again. She knows she won't be able to go back again.

Rose shakes her head. Yeah. She was in Cuba all right. Reunited and it did feel so good. One last chance to sate the craving. Then it's over. That's all it was. Charlie was free from her. To go on doing what he did best. Causing trouble internationally.

'Yes. Now, put my stuff away and get out.' Rose orders and the Doctor slowly gets off the couch and watches her.

'What were you doing there?' He questions, more out of curiosity than anything spiteful. Rose regards him carefully as she conjures up something to respond with. But she's unsure of what. And then her mind starts wandering back to the past twenty-four hours. She treads carefully. Recall too much and she'll only want more.

The investment for them has certainly paid off. Granted she doesn't know what it was like before they started investing however…she turns over her shoulder to the glitz and glamour of the casino floor behind her. They've done well. Rose turns back to her martini, taking a drink. It's not bad. It's mediocre.

No sign of anyone familiar. No one she knows. Just the rich that have flown in from wherever to enjoy themselves at this lavish establishment. While Cuba laps it up, it won't trickle down. It never does. She sighs and takes another drink of her mediocrity.

And she begins to wonder if this had been a good idea at all. Whether it was a smart thought getting dressed up in this dress that didn't belong in 1946, wearing a guise that could trigger his memory of it from years ago.

But her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the first face she's recognised since arriving here. And it isn't his. But rather a man who he's never entirely trusted. And as he'll soon learn, a man who will usurp his family right out from under his feet. It will get a new name and continue its operations, only without the founding member. Vito Genovese orders another shot of whiskey, no, actually two. Make it three. She can feel his eyes on her several times. He downs one. A look. Downs another. A longer look. She wants to say something but stays quiet. He could be remembering her as well. And where she fits in to his memories. He talks to her but it isn't in the direction she thought it'd be.

'You look very nice.' He compliments and Rose gives him the briefest of looks. She gives him a small, uninviting smile.

'Thank you.' A tad rusty on disguising her accent again.

Another deep look of her. 'You're here alone?'

'If I wasn't you'd surely see someone with me, wouldn't you?'

'Fiery.' Vito downs the third shot and orders another. Rose tilts her head.

'It matches my hair.' Rose responds stoically and Vito laughs, nodding his head at her in deep approval.

'A dame that has that kind of hair, just curious. Does the carpet match the drapes? I'll even buy you another drink to find out.'

Rose smiles at him, taking another sip of her drink. To hide her shock, of course, at his uncouth behaviour and audacity.

He strides back to their table not far from the bar with a scowl on his face. It had been a dare initiated by Albert. Only it didn't seem to go well. He's come back smelling of vodka instead of whiskey. The woman had tossed her drink at him. They said she was unapproachable from the moment Albert pointed her out to them and so they hold in their laughs, looking anywhere but at Vito. He gets to his feet when Vito takes a seat and begins to dab at the vodka left on his shirt and jacket, angrily grumbling. Vito warns him not to waste his time, it's impossible. That she's a frigid bitch. It doesn't bother him. He's always loved a challenge. Bitch or not.

Rose takes another small sip, but it turns into a longer one when she realises who has come to stand beside her and order another drink. Her heart skips a beat. She has to force herself to remain calm. Though it takes incredible strength to do so.

'You here to apologise for your friend's disgraceful display?' Rose questions when he turns to her and Charlie smiles at her.

'What makes you think he's my friend?'

'I saw what table he went to and what table you came from. Don't insult me.' Rose replies and Charlie nods his head, enjoying her feistiness, been awhile since he's met a dame like that.

'Fair enough.'

'Good. So when you go back there, tell your friend that it will take more than buying me a drink to find out.' Rose states seriously and is surprised to see that the bartender has set down another martini. She turns to Charlie with a slight smirk.

'Well, I'll try one. Maybe your answer will change after two.'

'You're quite sure of yourself.'

'I know.'

'Do you always get what you want?' She wonders, already knowing the answer to her question. Charlie shrugs innocently, but there is a wicked smile on his face.

'Most of the time.'

Rose nearly melts. Again she keeps her façade cool. She can't let him get too attached too quickly. But it's so hard to; he looks exactly the same as he did when they last saw one another. Maybe a few more greys around his temple, but that's to be expected, isn't it?

She presses her lips together and watches him carefully. It's hard to concentrate just on him, the distraction from the noise, sights, smells and everything keep pulling her attention away. That and she's certain that the boys are regarding them carefully. Well, she does know how this evening is going to end, doesn't she? She could tell the moment they made eye contact.

Charlie watches the woman with the bright red hair. He feels as though he's known her, seen her somewhere. Her profile as he approached her, he nearly broke out into a run because he thought it was Rose. But it wasn't. Instead it's a woman much like her but not quite.

'You got a name, Flametop?' Charlie takes a drink and Rose laughs lightly.

'I like Flametop, better than Attitude.' Rose replies and nearly kisses him immediately when he smiles at her.

'Do you go by that often?' Charlie wonders for his own amusement and Rose smirks while she shakes her head.

'Sadly. Sometimes.' Rose clears her throat and shrugs innocently.

'I can't imagine why. Not you.'

'Definitely not, Flametop is better,' She confirms and Charlie nods his head with a smile while he lights up his cigarette. He motions her to spill it. 'It's Ruby.'

'Ruby?' Charlie repeats and Rose nods her head solemnly. She points to her hair.

'My parents have a cruel sense of humour,' Rose answers and Charlie gives her a crooked smile. Rose gives him another once over. She loves him in blue. 'And your name?'

'Charlie,' He holds out his hand when Rose does the same. 'What's brought you over to Havana?'

Rose motions to her drink. 'It isn't the martinis,' Rose takes another sip from it. 'I just wanted to travel.'

'Alone?' Charlie swishes what's left in his glass before finishing it off. He glances to her visible leg that appears in an obvious slit in the dress. How far up does it go?

Rose stares at her drink before shifting her gaze to his. 'Sometimes the best company is your own,' Charlie arches his eyebrow in curiosity and Rose shrugs. 'Well, that and when I found out that Frank Sinatra was playing, I decided to extend my stay a few days longer.'

'Good plan.'

'Thanks, I thought so too.' Rose smirks at him while Charlie straightens up. Is he leaving already? Oh, but he just got here. How can she make him stay longer? She's already thinking the bad things; maybe they'll leave together. They will if she has something to say about it.

'I know my associate pissed you off with his comment, but would you care to join me at my table?' Charlie motions to the one where the rest of the boys are. She tilts her head. It would be nice to see everyone again, even if she can't really click with them as she would normally. She presses her lips together and she can see Charlie, with a quiet eagerness, waiting her reply.

So she extends the waiting, regarding her response, having a little fun with him. But it's mostly so she can sneak peeks at him. Missing that alluring stare, dark eyes and self assured smirk. Finally Rose motions to the table with her head. 'If you can promise me your associate will stop with the asinine comments, I would love to.'

'You have my word.'

'I'll hold you to it.' Rose replies and gets down off the stool at the bar, nodding at the bartender, hoping he didn't take her comments about the martini too seriously and takes Charlie's arm as he walks her towards the table where the boys are. The round of introductions begin.

Surprisingly Vito is on his best behaviour after the drink-throwing incident. He didn't ask for an apology and she didn't provide one. Clearly he must have known that he crossed a line. Charlie stays close to her, his arm is around her shoulders and it makes her wonder if he feels a connection to her he can't explain. Why things are so easy between them, so effortless, why they click so well. And it makes her wonder if he thought about her at all while in jail for those ten long years. So much she wants to know and yet will never know. This is the last time. She can't go looking for him again. Not after this. She has to watch herself immensely, she's caught herself a few times staring at him because he really hasn't changed at all.

Eventually the table clears of all but she, Charlie and Albert, so they continue to engage in conversation. A few times she surveys the casino floor. This is the Havana Conference? Hm…ah, what the hell does she care? She's here with him in his embrace and it doesn't even matter to her. Listening to them talk…she feels as though she's right back where she belongs. As though she's stepped back in time. Er, more so. No, if only she could think of some way to get him alone. Preferably in his room, she's already done the in the closet scene a few times before. Too cramped. Not as fun. They had managed to knock a shelf of towels down once before.

Imagine her luck, or something like that, when Albert eventually gets up to pursue some dame that had just walked by their table. She feels terrible for Elsa, no doubt still in New York minding the kids but she attempts to push those depressing thoughts out of her mind but the replacement company leaves her slightly dazed. And a tad bit awkward. While they continue to talk with ease and familiarity. She wonders if his ego got slightly inflated by those in the underworld he'd been seen with. Then again Frank Sinatra struck her as the type of person who didn't really care what others thought of him. At least for the time being.

He and Charlie continue to converse about nothing in particular. She vaguely hears mention of Havana and how Charlie's settling in, how Sicily is. Of course she didn't know that Frank's father and Charlie had been born in the same village. All of it is noise as she attempts to keep her mystique alive and hide her shock at seeing someone like him. In fact when Charlie finally introduces the two of them it takes her a moment to respond before she extends her hand and he raises it to his lips to kiss it, complimenting her on an intriguing name. Hopefully that blush isn't noticeable as he attempts a guess at why she's called that. Actually she feels a bit hot now. She tells him where she's from when he inquires. Victoria, British Columbia. Thinking of the first place that came to mind. Then she frowns, of all the places why there? Well it's her accent, she's faking a North American one, she could have said Russia or France, but her accent didn't reflect that. He's got a smooth voice, he could sell snake oil, she decides and nods her head to show she's still listening and somewhat attentive. Or to make sure she's still in control, whatever. She's no idea what he's been talking about.

She twists one of the loose curls around her finger. Listening to his stories while Charlie absently flips his lighter open and closed. Always has to keep himself occupied. She gets lost in her thoughts and before she knows it, Frank is holding an ice bucket with a full bottle of champagne in it. When he asks if she wants one she agrees. What the hell? She's here for a good time. Although that isn't exactly what she gets.

Their table was close to a roulette one. Sometimes those that had been winning were being obnoxious in their victories. However she's being petty, she might get excited too if she won money. Perhaps a more reserved celebration. However they managed to keep it from ruining their night. That is until the man who had been slaving over the roulette wheel for the better part of an hour, growing anxious as he continued to burn a hole in his pocket finally landed on the winning mark. So of course he had to celebrate. The cries of astonishment and glee grew louder. So did the cheers and applause of those that flanked him. Well, those who had stuck it out with the poor bloke. And then he went on a bit of a bender. Running around the table in excitement as he just won twenty-five grand, she thinks, hard to discern from all the yelling and shouting.

And in his many trips around congratulating himself, mostly, causes some ire with Charlie and Frank. What they didn't see coming is the waiter who had been carrying a tray of drinks to another table. The waiter saw the man coming his way and when he noticed that the man wasn't about to stop he tries to carefully and as delicately as possible without spilling anything hadn't realised that Frank was in the perfect line to be clipped by the waiter. The waiter knocking into Frank causes him to tilt forward, spilling his table's drinks on the tray, and with it he begins to lose his grip on the ice bucket. The champagne goes first and in an effort to save it from hitting Rose, his hand goes up to save it. At the same time the ice and water shoot forward and onto her chest and lap. She's slow to react. Charlie's gotten up and out from his seat in a flourish once he's realised who started the unfortunate chain of events before she registers what's happened fully. Then she begins to get up when she feels the ice sliding down into the front of her dress and the water begin to sit in her lap before running down her legs. And it's cold.

Finally something in her mind clicks and she jumps up, reaching for a cloth napkin that had been forgotten to be picked up when their dinner was finished. Long before her arrival. She begins to furiously wipe the front of her dress before moving on to her chest and gently mopping up the water left. All while listening to Frank's numerous apologies. Rose gives him a soft smile and places her hand on his shoulder. Accidents happen, she's not upset. The relief is evident in his eyes but the uncertainly returns when he can hear Charlie's voice to inquire whether or not she's okay. Frank becomes nervous. She'll admit, she loves it when Charlie gets serious, a small thrill. One she's not had in some time, but as long as nothing bad happens after. She gingerly begins to dab the tablecloth. Trying to soak up the water as best she can.

'I am so, so sorry!' Frank responds and begins helping her with the table. Not much he can do about her dress, except pay for the dry cleaning. Rose turns over to him and shrugs.

'These things happen. Honestly without bad luck I'd have no luck at all.' Again the relief is evident in his eyes. She feels so terrible that this happened to him. He's got such a sweet disposition. Not at all how she imagined the crooner.

A woman abruptly appears at Frank's side, pointing to a door that no doubt leads into the rooms to prep before a show. The only reason she's not said anything is because she's surveying the damages. How she and Frank are cleaning up the table while Charlie has gone off again to find the man responsible for this event. Rose couldn't stop him if she tried. Once he gets his mind set on something he'll see it through to the end.

'Frank, ten minutes, you have to come with me!' The woman with the sharp eyes tells him. An obvious assistant. She glares at him when he shakes his head. Someone's punctual.

'Made a bit of a mess over here, Bev. Give me five.'

Rose places her hand on his shoulder. 'Go. I'm more than okay. You've apologised and I'm not mad. The show must go on.'

Frank debates, looking at her, the table and finally Bev before he reluctantly sets down the cloth he'd been using to help her and straightens his tie. He gives her a curt nod.

'You're right, thanks, doll.' Frank gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before following Bev who is already rushing towards the door. Frank merely meanders after her, straightening his tie. She wants to wave at him but she feels frozen. And her face burns. Then she feels giddy. A stupid smile plastered on her face while she continues trying to get her dress dry. She got a kiss from Frank Sinatra. Take that.

She's still riding the high that she doesn't hear Charlie come back from wherever it was that he had been. When he puts his hand on the table, leaning while he inspects her, she can see his knuckles are bruised and bloody. Well that answers that question, doesn't it?

'Everything all right?' He wonders and looks around. Before she can answer he appears to want to finish his thought. 'Where's Frank?'

'I'm fine. Frank's gone to get ready for the show.' Rose replies and Charlie reaches over to the ice bucket and fishes out a few pieces, placing them over the bruised knuckles.

Rose closes her eyes and takes them from his hand, wrapping them in the napkin before placing it back in his hand. 'What happened there?' She points and Charlie glances to his right hand before shrugging.

'Nothing, Flametop, I hit it over something stupid.'

Or someone. Rose wants to laugh. She said that to him a long time ago. When he had cleaned the glass cuts from her hand when she had smashed the glass into the side of that bastard, Hennessey's, head.

'Hm, must have been multiple times.'

Charlie merely eyes her but nonetheless uses the good hand to take her wrist, eyeing her. She finds herself growing hot under his stare. Finding a closet is starting to look more viable. She gives herself a reality check. Get over it. Not right now, think of something else other than that for once. She hopes he can't see how much she wants at him. She bites her lip while Charlie surveys the rest of the casino floor. He turns back to her.

'What do you say to heading out for the night? Get you out of those wet clothes.' Charlie suggests and Rose arches her eyebrow at him. Is she giving him her best come hither stare? Feels like it. Oh yes, she must be. He puts his hand on her shoulder. He's gotten really comfortable with her really quickly. It's all she can do to keep herself from securing the front of his shirt and yanking him towards her.

'What and into a dry martini?' She muses and Charlie smirks at her, she nearly laughs at her own stupid joke. She's witty, he decides. 'And where do you want to go?'

'My place isn't far from here.'

Speaking of martinis, dry and dirty, her head feels fuzzy from the four she's already had. Play it coy, stupid girl. Don't come off desperate. Ruby isn't desperate. Though Rose clearly is. It's more than likely it's the fact of seeing him again. She wants to drop the guise and fill him in on everything.

'How convenient,' Rose remarks and Charlie innocently shrugs, a coy smile on his face while he awaits her answer. 'I have no problem going. After the performance.'

'Really?'

Rose begins to head for the hall that Frank will be performing in and Charlie reluctantly follows. Not the answer he'd been hoping for. 'If you have any hope of me agreeing to go, indulge my request,' She can see his hesitation and so she pauses and places her hands on her hips. 'I can go alone. But I promise you; you'll miss one hell of a show. And I'm not just talking about Frank's.'

She continues on, knowing she has him where she wants him. Sure enough moments later he joins her, boldly slipping his arm around her waist. She doesn't mind and attempts to focus her train of thought on the show that's about to begin. Her mind constantly drifts to what she knows will happen afterwards. For that she nearly dies of anticipation.

The humidity hasn't broken and adds to the heaviness of the room. Small beads of sweat have broken out across her hairline, one rolls down her neck and down her chest. She pulls away from him to breathe, inhaling deeply, panting as she slowly kisses him placing her hand on the back of his head and places her free hand on his shoulder before moving it to his cheek.

They had barely made it in the front door before she could hold back no longer. He offered to make her a drink but she wanted to skip pleasantries and get right down to business. She had startled him, he had been busy fixing himself a drink but when he had turned around there she was. Pulled him by the front of his shirt so that his lips met hers in record time. He'd forgotten about the drink, nearly dropped the bottle of whiskey on the ground before he roughly put it back on the wet bar counter, it rattled a few times before settling. His entire focus went to her as he pinned her against the nearest wall and she tugged him closer by his hips. To say she'd been dying for this would have been and understatement.

She pushes him off of her and slinks by him, making her way towards the bedroom while she reaches behind her and unzips the back of her dress, letting it fall in a smooth motion down to her ankles where she steps out of it and slowly turns around. Is she flashing her best come hither look? She must have because Charlie crosses the floor with haste and he's begun kissing her before she has a chance to blink. When she regains her senses she begins to unbutton the buttons on his shirt and her fingers tremble, even when she shoves it off and it falls to the floor. So many thoughts racing through her mind and yet she can focus on not one in particular. He backs her to the bed; she spreads her legs while he kneels in between them. He begins kissing her neck, trailing as he moves from her neck to her lips and she digs her nails into his back, panting and softly moaning. Having enough, she flips him to his back while she straddles his waist and they resume without missing a beat. Another night to remember. She doesn't regret coming at all. Doesn't regret the consequences she knows will be waiting for her. She's entirely in the now. And also on her back again…

As he pins her wrists above her head, Charlie can't help but notice the way she wears the violet twilight on the shell of her ears. He kisses her, on the inside of her wrists, a haunting perfume of half forgotten longings and forbidden kisses.

I know it's morning. You can tell these things after awhile. I didn't want to open my eyes but at the same time I was curious to know how late in the morning it truly was. Or early. I could feel the hangover even before I opened my eyes. I feel like shit. My head is already telling me how stupid I was last night, given the ferocity of the headache I now have. I figure that, after the length at which I've been at this partying lifestyle, I would or should be used to it by now. Maybe I'm the one getting old. I push that depressing thought from my mind. There are other things in the world to worry about right now. Getting old shouldn't be one of them. However after spending ten years behind bars, maybe I was eager to make up for lost time.

I bite the bullet and open my eyes. Sunlight has been streaming through the windows - I really ought to get curtains put up - so I shut my eyes again. It didn't help the headache either. I try again. I'm more successful. Successful enough to actually sit up and look at the clock I have beside the bed on the table. It tells me I'm up entirely too early. It's half past nine. I remember a time when I would just be getting in from a late night out. Now, though, I seem to be getting up earlier and earlier. Not that I was aiming for it. So I stare at the ceiling for a while.

The fan turns lazily around. It doesn't do much to help things; actually I think it makes things worse. It's going to be hot out today, you can feel the humidity building with each minute that ticks by. Of course, I've just moved here, so do my thoughts on the weather really matter? Feels like all I've been doing is jumping around from place to place. While daunting I didn't mind it as much as I thought I would. Maybe being shut up for ten years will do that. I've missed a lot. And I wanted to catch up. I left the world one way and when I got out the world had changed before me.

I sit up. The headache seems to have gotten worse when I sat up. A sure sign of things to come. Two things to cure it. A smoke and a drink. But since it's early, coffee will have to do. Then again the coffee they serve at this place leaves much to the imagination. Some days I'm lucky if I can get it without the consistency of tar. To hell with it. Booze in the coffee. I've decided. Just to make it manageable.

As I get dressed, I notice the small lump of black fabric on the floor when she had hastily stepped out of it. I said to her she ought to have hung that up so it didn't wrinkle on her, but I didn't have the time to get the whole sentence out of my mouth. Flametop's an impatient girl. I pick it up off the floor for her. It's still damp. What fucking luck. I throw it over the back of one of the chairs and move the chair into the stream of sunlight that amazingly hasn't woken the dame up yet. She handled that incident with a lot of class, most broads would have pitched a fit over getting an ice bucket dumped all of them. She played it off as an accident, which it was, but still. One of us is the unlucky one. Flametop seemed to be on the receiving end. Just like someone else I once knew.

I return to the bedroom after picking up my cigarettes from the table in the hallway. I stare at them as I walk past the bed to the balcony attached to the room. Only building that did, beat out some couple from Florida for this place. Quite proud of that win. The sun is strong; I turn my back to get the rays out of my eyes, the wind too. It keeps blowing out the flame on my lighter. I get annoyed and when I finally manage to keep it lit for more than a second I am quick to bring it to my mouth. I inhale deeply and exhale the cloud of smoke into the room. Maybe I ought to have shut the French doors.

Fuck it. Only if it rains, which, by the way those clouds look to the west, it will be some time soon. Forgot an ashtray. And I've already forgotten to care. I listen as Flametop rustles the sheets in her sleep; turning from her stomach to her side, bare back facing me. I like her. But that dame is trouble. I knew it the moment Vito spotted her at the bar. A dame alone in a casino? Rare. But not unheard of. She's the type of dame that has an air about her, not in a haughty way it's just noticeable. Palpable. Flametop knows what she wants; a lot of men can't handle that. Like Vito. Of course the crude remarks hadn't helped his case. And for the record the carpet…well, maybe I shouldn't reveal that one to him.

Dames like Flametop are witty and sharp but they don't stand for being disrespected. And can dole it out worse than they receive. To say that he came back dejected was a bit amusing to me. Nothing like seeing some ass attempt to pick up some twist only to be rejected and return to where they came from with a bruised ego to nurse. I said so. He told me to fuck off, and that I couldn't do better. I called him on it. Hence the challenge. Dames like Flametop have to be approached a certain way, indirectly. And Vito gave me a perfect in. He wasn't a gentleman, I can be, so I apologised. For him. I made the first attempt at contact and she had reciprocated. I wasn't expecting the connection we did make. We got on real swell. A woman like that is dangerous when is armed with beauty and a sense of humour, dames like that become irresistibly addicting. It added to her allure. There was a connection between us, I wondered all last night after we put the disaster behind us, and I had wanted to ask her if she had felt it too. The ease between us, conversation never lulled, it was like talking with an old friend, even though I was certain Flametop and I had never met. At all. So why the familiarity? That dame who, when she laughed you could see the storm in her eyes that is her mind. She expertly concealed and wore every emotion in her eyes. I watch her shift again; stretching her legs out before bringing them back in. Those legs went on for miles.

I don't really remember the night all that well. Too much alcohol. What I do remember is after Flametop cleaned herself up we got to talking a bit more, not long. I remember suggesting that we head out. Go somewhere quiet. But she wanted to see the show. Dames. Trouble. Even with a wet dress, she wanted to stay to the end. I let her. Or rather she let me stay. I'm not sure. I did know that I wanted to leave with her. So if I needed to indulge her to do that, then I wasn't going to complain. Frank always puts on a good show. And Flametop…was well worth the wait. Several times over.

There were some things I couldn't help but notice about her. She drew similarities. I wanted to ask but didn't want to show that I had a problem getting over an ex. What's that say about me? That I'm sentimental? I can't show that. It happened ten years ago, why can't I get over her? Shit. Maybe I am. I guess it was because I wondered how lucky I'd be to run into two similar women that didn't know one another? Good job, Charlie, you find nothing but trouble. Especially with the dames.

Actually…I've been rather good considering how things went over the last decade. Now, though, I am itching to cause problems. Screw me out of a deal? I stub the end out on the marble railing before tossing it into the closest flowerpot. I light up another one.

Flametop moves again. She's quiet a moment later; I turn back to the city around me. I can't get over the sense of familiarity that surrounded us. I've been with a lot of women before I met Rose a decade ago. And only her for six years, whores after her – shoot me, I've been locked up, don't knock it till you try it - but with Flametop…felt like we've slept together before. She's just that good. She made me forget my name and all the shit that's been piling up since I was forced to come back to Italy. That's why I decided not to stay there, couldn't get things done properly given the distance. The Camorra is beginning to test their hold on Naples and they aren't fond of the Sicilian mafia or its members. Everybody plays nice together because we are useful to one another. We each have something the other one wants, connections, money whatever. We're controlled, but the Camorra are not and they didn't like that fact that someone with my reputation was coming home. Throw off the balance, that's what they were worried about. Fuck them. I didn't want to be there. Not my choice. Hence my choice to move to Cuba. I can control things better from Cuba to New York than I can from Naples to New York. Trick is not to get caught. Except I had once before. There I go being sentimental again. Get over it and move on.

I don't even bother to stub the end of the cigarette on the marble. I immediately toss it back into the flowerpot and turn to take another glance at Flametop. But she isn't asleep in bed. I head back in, wondering where she could have gotten to so silently. I don't have to wait long for my answer as she emerges from the lounge in her dress. All good things come to an end, I guess. Those pale green eyes shine brightly as she walks towards me. That dame is a looker. She turns around and lifts her hair off of the back of her neck. She wants me to zip up her dress. She wants to go. I'm not sure I want her to. Not just yet.

'No?' She wonders and turns to face me, letting her hair drop. She searches me for an answer. I answer her by cupping her face and kissing her. It surprises her at first. Takes her a moment to respond. She places her hands on my forearms and hits back. Hard.

She pulls away first, leaving me wanting more. If there's one thing I won't do, that's look desperate. Never have, never will. I do put my hand behind her head; maybe she'll get the message. She doesn't have to go right away. She's different. Wouldn't send her away like the others at the first light of dawn. It's funny; I used to go for the women without anything to them, no substance, and silent. Rose was different. Smart and witty. Flametop's the same. My tastes are changing again.

'You gotta leave right now?' I inquire. She looks at my coyly with a small smirk. I can tell she's thinking of something to say to me. I don't know what it is though; she can be hard to read. She wraps her arms around me and kisses me.

'What did you have in mind if I said no?' That wicked smile that appears on her lips when she pulls away and inquires about my plans causes me to glance to the bed again. She arches her eyebrow and motions to it. 'Ah, I see. What? Once wasn't enough?'

That minx. Do I have to spell it out for her or is she doing this on purpose? See? I said so, that dame is nothing but trouble. I think she gets a kick out of it. She enjoys it thoroughly.

'It wasn't once, Flametop.' Is all I manage to respond with. Good one, Charlie. That's real swell of you to respond by arguing with her over semantics? That'll make her want to stick around, even if she knows she's wrong and I'm right. It wasn't once though, so we're clear, it was several. I told her that.

'Am I a bit addicting?' She questions rhetorically, her voice is sultry and she's running her index finger down my chest. She's started backing me towards the bed; I haven't even noticed that yet.

'Why should the good times end just because the sun comes up?' I get a smile out of her for that comment. I hit the bed. She pauses and a slight frown clouds her features. Is she going to change her mind? That won't be any good. I'm already working on an argument to convince her to stay, just in case.

'I have time.' She declares and pushes me back onto the bed. Dame like her busy? She's more than likely leaving Havana and heading back home. Story of my life. Meet someone I like and she up and disappears.

'I'm glad you're rearranging your schedule for me.' I was only half joking. Again see, I don't like to show I've won. I'm a gentleman, sometimes. She gets atop of me and shrugs, moving her hair off her face.

'It's only cause I like you.' She says. Huh. Well, people have often said I leave a good first impression. Most of the time, I leave an impression, actually is what I think they've said before. I'm glad it wasn't wasted on her. She leans down and whispers something into my ear before moving to kiss my neck.

Her words burn in my mind even after I've taken control of the situation. I have a problem giving up control, and it takes a lot of focus to pay attention to her and the cryptic message that's hidden in her words. I wondered if I misheard them. She forces my attention again. And yet still I can't shake her words from my mind. I wonder why she said them at all.

In my final kiss, you'll know all I haven't said.

But I didn't. And I remember thinking about it long after she left me. How long and tender her kiss was as she lingered in my doorway. I watched her walk into the courtyard from the balcony, heels in hand, singing a song I'd never heard before. Her voice floats up to me, soft yet powerful. Does Flametop sing at nightclubs? I suppose I'll never know now.

'Sweet wonderful you, / You make me happy with the things you do, / Oh, can it be so, / This feeling follows me wherever I go. / I never did believe in miracles, / But I've a feeling it's time to try.'

The longer I sat and thought about her words to me, not the song she'd been singing, though that was in there too, the more it got me to thinking. There was some familiarity in that kiss. That dame was trouble the moment I saw her.

Rose folds her arms and waits for him to do as she's instructed. She hasn't answer his question yet because she believes she doesn't have to dignify that with a response. She doesn't know why he's insisting on making this issue greater than it ought to be. Her life is her own. She answers to no one. She is so tired of this being an issue, course she doesn't really help her case much by deciding to go and see him, sleep with him or just get involved in his world again. She doesn't want to place blame but the bringing to forefront of her mind someone so instrumental in getting her through the first while after quitting the Proclamation, going solo and dealing with her loss of John that she had to, no, she needed to go see him. She is dealing with the consequences now. And she doesn't mind.

The Doctor slowly steps off the sofa, double-checking to make sure he hadn't scuffed or left a mark on the pristine white fabric, as he's certain he wouldn't hear the end of it. But she says nothing and he carefully begins to pick up the mess he'd left. The photos he'd dropped on the floor. He does his best not to look at those in the photos, both of her and him or her in that type of environment, that world. The underworld. Slumming with those who shaped and created it. Those who modernised it. The man who commanded it, the most powerful man in the underworld and he had been hers. The Doctor had known his tough yet innocent Rose, whom he'd left behind, had changed dramatically; he just never thought it'd be that dramatically. He sees her in another light. What if he can't go back to see her as anything else? That gangster's moll, his Rose, as someone's moll. He can't put those thoughts in a coherent line. So he just keeps putting things away, sneaking another look at the massive Morganite necklace. It doesn't go unnoticed by Rose. She can almost hear the thoughts in his mind.

'You can continue thinking all you want. But I am done talking about it. If you want me to join you again then give me a moment.' Rose offers and the Doctor slowly closes the little hole in the ground and covers it with the rug. He doesn't turn to her but does open his mouth to refute her claims.

To shower off the layer of sex and sweat no doubt. He wisely keeps his mouth shut. She would be furious and it is a long drop down should she decide to tackle him out the window. So that begs the question. Does he want her back on the TARDIS? Yeah, he hates the way she just stormed off in a tantrum huff, but there are some things he has to work through, things he needs to be able to let go. Can he do that with her aboard? Should he try? No harm no foul? Does it really work like that? If it had been anyone else in the world, he could have, maybe been okay with it. But a gangster? That's the problem he has. He wasn't just someone else, someone good. Who she got involved with was an evil person.

His brings his gaze from the floor to meet hers but takes his time, the thoughts still swirling in his mind. He goes up to her knees, still angry because she's in that dress and there's a slit that runs up, stopping on the side of her thigh. He'd have seen that. You moron, he saw a lot more than just her thigh. Still mad. Again he pauses her to her middle before quickly jumping up her chest to her eyes. The sweetheart cut of the dress sits well, it'd have been hard for him to turn her down, and he'd be amazed if he had. But her eyes. They burn with a plea to let this rest. They beg him to move on. It had happened before he even was aware she was in her proper universe. Aware of her existence once again here. He was off gallivanting around the universe, he had his own life. She was busy recreating hers. So why is he letting it bother him so much? She had the gift of exercising judgement and she used it poorly – in his eyes. Not that he'd say that to her face, again that window is awfully close to him and a long drop down.

If he truly wishes to move on from this as he look implores him to then he has to acknowledge one major fact. That he's jealous. She most likely knew that, held out a small bit of hope he'd admit it - not bloody likely - she didn't need to know. He won't even tell her, nor confirm her suspicions, that he is jealous of the fact that she met someone else. While here. In her proper universe without attempting to find him first. She said she simply assumed that when he dumped her in the parallel world - a rather harsh yet acceptable word - that he would have had no interest in seeing her and that it didn't matter what she thought or did, she was busy with her own life. He apparently hadn't fit into hers until fate saw otherwise. Her new life meant that she was free to do whatever she wished whenever she wished. Including time travelling to become involved with seedy gangsters from the 30s. Not just some unknown, arguably the most influential and important one. The choice had been hers. However he must commend her efforts. She was meticulous about erasing her tracks from being in New York in the 30s, attached to his side. Any evidence of their time together had been scrupulously scrubbed and removed. It would explain the scarcity of the photos of him. No mention of her at all. She'd been careful so he supposes he ought to figuratively tip his hat to her. Not that he'd say it vocally.

He just thought he'd learn something if he tailed her and shown up beginning, middle and end. At random times, to see what she saw. To see if he could see into her deluded thinking to make sense, to see a shred of good in that man. To see if he was superior to him and vice versa. He obviously doubted that highly but it caused her to see something in him. Or had she already mentioned that and he wasn't listening because he was so jealous? Oops. Admitted it to himself. Yeah so what? He was. There. And no, he doesn't feel any better admitting it.

She's getting impatient. She wants an answer. She's tapped her foot on the floor and her arms folded. What does he say to her? How can he not bring this topic up again? He doesn't know. For god sake she sought him out and then slept with him! Without remorse! She's just standing there all cocky and proud of herself while she waits for her answer about whether or not to come along again.

See that's the thing. He says no, she'd be mad, upset, curse and shout. And then she'd get over it. She can pick up her life right where she left off. She has that ability; her life went on pause after Mercy. And any time she wants to she can hit play and never look back. There would be no void. For him, though, it'd be a very different story. He could say no, same result with the cursing and shouting, resulting in her leaving, but he would have to live with notion that he barred her return. She'd live her life to the best she could, no doubt with frequent liaisons with her gangster paramour, while he would continue on forging a path. Only there would be a deep hole on board the TARDIS, in his hearts that she should be there with him. And his petty jealousy drove her away. Especially since she'd been nothing but honest with him after the tryst had come to light. Points for that? He isn't sure. He wants to drop the topic, truly he does, even if she doesn't believe him because it does hurt him to think of her with someone else. Especially when she was, at the time, so close and yet so far from him.

He doesn't get that train of thought. She'd move heaven and earth if she knew there was a chance she would get to yell at him for what he'd done to her before. Imagine if he had just shown up sometime when she was with her gangster paramour to announce he knew she was back. She laughs first. And then effectively eviscerate him. Without breaking a sweat or chipping a nail. Then she'd yell at him for wasting her time. Yikes. He's envisioning that now.

She clears her throat. He's avoiding having to tell her something. What will make him the happiest? To let her go off on her own again? To scarcely hear from her, only when it's convenient? Because he's the jealous type? And why? What the hell started all this fighting again? Ohh. Oh. Right. He lied to her. Why does it always seem to start with him? And as she so poignantly pointed out his taste for English royalty. So she went dark. She went with Mob royalty. Then again didn't their egos make them believe they were all royalty? He nearly smiles at his own stupid comparison. Answer her! This has to stop. He needs to dig deep and ask the hard questions.

Can he live with the fact that he wasn't the only one who had her? And even though he knows whom she'd been with, does it truly matter? Didn't he want happiness for her? He gave it to her, shouldn't it be enough? He can't continue to lambaste the situation for longer. Every damn photo he looked at happiness shone through her eyes. Her smile true. That should be it. It should be left at that. So he digs a little deeper and finally gives her an answer. Even though by her perturbed attitude she had been ready to write him off and kick him out.

'I do want you to come back.'

That seems to surprise her. She raises her eyebrows in shock and presses her lips together. 'Will you finally drop this issue?'

Not bloody likely, how can he? Does he say he will to appease her and just keep going on and on until he eventually doesn't feel the sting anymore? He looks out the window to the Moscow city before he turns to her.

'I can try.' He replies and Rose tilts her chin away from him while debating the sincerity of his words. She places her hands on her hips and turns over to Ekaterina.

He can't see the look she gives Rose but she nods her head at her. Rose quickly walks out to embrace Ekaterina tightly. Ekaterina says something he doesn't catch but it causes Rose to inhale deeply and give her a curt nod.

'Idi, devochka. Vremya , chtoby dat' vashemu vozlyublennomu Smuglaya otdokhnut' sikh por.' Ekaterina implores her and Rose shrugs absently in her tight embrace. Ekaterina runs her hand over the back of her head, smoothing down the untamed spots of her hair on the back of her head.

'Trudno .' Rose utters into Ekaterina's shoulder and she laughs lightly, holding Rose tighter to her. She wants her to put it to rest too, but it's so hard to.

'Derzhite zanyat i vy ne pridetsya,' Ekaterina explains and this time it elicits a laugh from Rose. Soft and light. Ekaterina holds her at arms length. 'Teper' pereydite dush.'

Rose stares at her with wide eyes and takes a step back. Does the whole world know or need to know that she's had sex? 'Razve chto ochevidno ?' She can feel her cheeks reddening. She wants to clear her throat but doesn't want to draw attention to their conversation. Ekaterina rests her hand on Rose's cheek and runs her thumb over it.

'Da.'

Rose nods and turns to head into her apartment. She doesn't mention her conversation and doesn't care if the Doctor heard it or not. She brushes by him and pauses in the hallway to her bedroom. She hears Ekaterina shut the door to her own apartment and Rose reaches behind her and pauses when her fingers grip the zipper of her dress. She looks over her shoulder to the Doctor.

'Are you staying here, or am I meeting you on the TARDIS?' She wonders and watches the Doctor grapple with the decision. She frowns and unzips her dress and it falls to the floor. She steps out of it and walks to the bedroom. Still no answer.

He's simply wondering if she's doing it on purpose or if she doesn't care she's offering a show.

He looks away and decides that perhaps it would be best if he waited on the TARDIS. Too many thoughts still swirling around in his mind. He glances up again. The door to the bathroom has been shut. The shower is on. To the TARDIS it is, then.

'What's, uh, what's going on in here?'

Her voice breaks his concentration and he glances around the console to see her, freshly showered and braiding her hair to the side. She's staring uncomfortably at the Cyberman head on the console.

'Attention! Information available.' The head declares and Rose blinks. The Doctor turns to it and waits for it to speak but it doesn't. He folds his arms and Rose carefully walks around the console so to join him, staring with caution at the head.

'Ok?' The Doctor prods and there is silence from the head. 'Oh, Rose, this is Handles.'

'Why do you have a Cyberman head?' She wonders but he doesn't answer her before Handles provides the updated information.

'You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit.' Handles informs him and the Doctor frowns. Rose covers her mouth with her hand as she studies the head carefully, trying to make sense of what's happening and what's been going on since she's been gone.

'No, no. No, no, no, no, no. No, not now!' The Doctor insists and turns to Rose to ask her to repeat her question before Handles interrupts them once again.

'When?'

'I don't know, just later, pick a time.' The Doctor replies impatiently and Rose moves her hand from her mouth to drop it by her side. She continues to stare at the head uncomfortably.

The Doctor steals another glance at Rose and he can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the situation confused her. Well, given the situation he was just in the confusion she appears to have is well deserved, he thinks. Huh. Jealousy talking again. That's what that is. Still. His mind wanders to what exactly transpired in Havana. Before the bedroom.

'When?' Handles questions and the Doctor runs his hand through his hair impatiently and Rose's face begins to morph into a smirk.

'I don't know, just any old time. When you think I've forgotten.' The Doctor decides and there is a brief silence while Rose goes to lean against the railings and watch the scene continue to unfold.

'When?' Handles wonders once more. Rose can't hide the smile as she watches the Doctor's impatience level grow.

He throws his hands up in frustration and glares at Handles. 'Just pick a random number, express that number as a quantity of minutes, and when that time has elapsed, remind me to patch the telephone back through the console unit.'

'Affirmative.' Handles replies and the console room is suddenly filled with the sound of the phone ringing. Rose frowns.

Rose watches him walk towards the door before pausing and he turns to her. 'What the hell is going on?' She calls to him and he shrugs.

'I got a message. I can't translate it. It's brought together the races of the universe. Dalek, Sontarans – you stay away from them – Slitheen. Rose, they aren't fighting one another. They're just…parked.' The Doctor explains and opens the TARDIS door while Rose ponders that statement carefully.

That doesn't make sense. Why the cease fire? Why now? What are they waiting for? A sign? 'Okay, so that is a little strange. But why? If everyone received this message, untranslatable by you, do they know what it says?'

The Doctor pauses and regards her slight frown and crossed arms. 'I don't know. Every time I go aboard one of the ships I get shot at! Me! Can you believe it?' He wonders impatiently and Rose hides her smile behind her hand.

'I surely can't.'

'I want to know why!' He replies agitated and leans out the TARDIS door to retrieve the phone and brings it inside. Rose couldn't possibly imagine who could be calling him and she begins to attempt to work out how a message is so universally understood by so many races and yet not to him. 'Hello. The TARDIS.

'Emergency. You're my boyfriend.' Clara's voice rings through the line and Rose glances up briefly to see the Doctor's face light up with a smile before returning her attention to the Cyberman head.

'Ding dong! Ok, brilliant. I may be a bit…' He pauses, trailing off and shifts his glance to Rose who is inspecting the head carefully. 'Rusty in some areas, but I will glance at a manual.' He promises and Clara exhales a light laugh in his ear. What? He is apparently rusty if he's driving his please let's keep this a secret girlfriend back into the arms of her paramour.

'No, no, you're not actually my boyfriend.' Clara clarifies and the Doctor hears an oven door opening and a small sound of surprise. He leans against the railing defeated.

'Oh, that was quick. It's a roller coaster, this phone call.' The Doctor decides, not to mention this day with Rose, and in his dejected state he walks back to where Rose is about to poke Handles in the forehead but he scoops Handles up before she gets a chance to. She eyes him.

'But I need a boyfriend really quickly.' Clara replies and the Doctor balances the phone on his shoulder while Rose hops up onto the rail to get out of his way. This conversation is amusing to her.

'Well, I hope you're nice to the next one.' He points to the buttons near the monitor and Rose reaches out and pushes them for him, he gives her a nod of thanks and she shrugs.

'No, shut up,' Clara responds impatiently and he can hear the sounds of her heels rushing around something in a flourish. 'Christmas dinner, me cooking.' She explains and the heels clicking resume.

'So?' He wonders and Rose stares at the monitor as her face knits into a confused stare. She looks back to the Cyberman head.

'So, I may have…accidentally invented a boyfriend.' Clara clears her throat embarrassed. The Doctor simply shrugs, missing the point behind her words. Even Rose has stopped to hear the explanation that she's certain is coming.

The Doctor shrugs absently, recalling something from some time ago. 'Yeah, I did that once and there's no easy way to get rid of an android.'

Rose stares at him with a funny expression and cocked eyebrow. He gives her a rather affronted shrug before holding his arms out to the side.

He doesn't see Clara rolling her eyes through the phone and the sounds as she rushes back into the kitchen. 'No, not an android, a pretend one, an imaginary one. And I said he'd be coming to Christmas dinner with my best teaching friend, Rose. So if she's there, tell her I said hi.'

The Doctor covers the mouthpiece of the phone and turns to Rose. 'Clara says hi, also, dress for dinner. Christmas. Clara's cooking.'

Rose blinks from surprise and tilts her head. 'Okay…'

She notices something on the screen. A new ship. To have so many different races gathered in one spot. They're waiting for something. And it must be a big something for them to call a ceasefire. That makes her fearful. When have all the races in the universe gathered in one spot waiting and quiet? A big event is on the horizon.

He uncovers the phone but doesn't speak to Clara right away; instead his distracted mind begins to address Handles after she's pointed to the screen again. He nods in agreement. 'That is a new ship. Okay, we'll take the TARDIS this time.' The Doctor states and Clara sighs impatiently in his ear.

'Come for Christmas dinner. Just do that for me. Please. Come to Christmas dinner and be my Christmas date and Rose so she can be my best mate.' Clara's voice softens but is a tad desperate. He doesn't know how badly Clara wants this dinner to go. To impress her family and show that things are going well in her life.

Unfortunately for Clara, while she's in the middle of confessing her fears and desperation, the Doctor had attempted to balance the phone on his shoulder while he looked at the monitor. It wasn't placed properly and he promptly drops it. He tries to scoop it up but fails and Clara's last sentence goes unheard by him. He snatches it up and holds on to it this time.

'Sorry, missed that last bit. Got to dash!' He decides quickly and ends the call. It takes Rose by surprise. She hops off the rails and watches the Doctor rush towards the door with the head tucked under his arm.

She stands a few feet behind him - why does it feel so awkward now to do so? - so she watches him stick the head outside the TARDIS door, to serve as a lookout. Would it even work? Apparently not, well, not that she can see because nothing happens. So he steps out of the TARDIS and motions for her to join him. So she does.

They are in a ship, the lighting is minimal and she has a hard time making things out. There is a door though, at the end of the hall, a small sliver of light is visible from under it. Whoever this ship belongs to they'll find out after this door has been opened. Rose walks a few steps behind him. She looks to her feet.

'Have you given a thought to the broader picture?' Rose wonders and the Doctor glances behind him. He shakes his head unsure of her words.

'What?'

'Well, I mean it's just strange that we have all these ships, parked, hanging out. They're waiting for something, something important. Like the second big bang or something.' Rose can tell she's rambling. She shuts herself up. It's taking time for her to get into the groove again. This fight has made her feel awkward being back; maybe she ought not to have come at all.

The Doctor shakes his head. 'Can't be the second big bang. It's already happened.'

'They're waiting for a sign.' Rose insists and the Doctor nods his head.

'I know, I'm trying to figure out what it is. What the message says that I received,' He replies and the door at the end of the corridor begins to open. They pause and Rose holds her breath. The Doctor attempts to greet them. 'Okay, don't be alarmed, I come in…'

Rose widens her eyes and the Doctor trails off as they see the massive amounts of Cybermen that appear to be in some kind of stasis chambers. They are silent and the Doctor turns his gaze to Handles' and then to Rose and finally back to the chamber. She exhales and takes a step back. Not good.

'So um…' She begins but the Doctor holds his arm out, the sonic in his hand and he aims it at the door where the Cybermen are hoping to slow their freedom from the chambers.

'Intruders detected. The intruders will be upgraded.' One of them declares and Rose shakes her head, taking his free hand in hers.

'Not today, time to go!' Rose shouts and they begin running back to the TARDIS doors. She hears the gunfire begin and one beam flies over her shoulder. She can feel the heat from it.

The Doctor pauses in his step, shaking his hand free as he uses Handles to block some of the shots fired at them.

'Sorry!' He tells Handles and Rose throws open and dashes up to the controls. She can still hear the shots being released and the TARDIS taking some of the impact. She's ready to bolt, her hand over the lever waiting for the Doctor who seems to be taking his time.

'Doctor!' Rose shouts impatiently and he runs in and up the ramp to her. He has the ringing phone in one hand and the Cyberman head tucked under his arm like a helmet. He puts the phone to his ear and nods at Rose who begins to engage the TARDIS.

'I need you! I'm cooking Christmas dinner!' Clara states seriously and the Doctor rolls his eyes, nearly losing his balance as the TARDIS continues to take more damage from the Cybermen gunfire.

'We're being shot at by Cybermen!' The Doctor informs her quickly, gripping the handle of the rail while Rose continues to pilot the TARDIS. Thankfully she's on board. Can't imagine doing this with only his own company for help.

'Well, can't we do both?' Clara wonders desperately and the Doctor glances to Rose, moving about the console quickly. It would be nice to get his mind off the paramour she has just been with. He tries not to think too hard, lest his mind go to places it shouldn't and imagines scenarios he shouldn't.

The TARDIS shakes and he braces himself. 'Yeah, why not?!'

Rose is quiet while he puts the phone back on the receiver. She hops up on the rails as he takes over commanding the TARDIS. Is it Christmas already? She supposes it can be any time they wish. She just isn't sure she should attend. She doesn't really know Clara as well as the Doctor does, she'd feel awkward. Plus with the two of them still on a shaky neutral cease-fire…something could happen and the whole thing could implode. She could go off running again…end up in his arms. The one place she so desperately wants to be right now, soothed and comforted. Like he used to do for her.

Things begin to stabilise and the Doctor turns to Rose, watching her play with her nails, obviously off in thought. Can he see the quiet discomfort she's displaying? He can see that she's thinking about something. Should she have come at all? Is that what she's thinking?

There is still a level of awkwardness to them. It's nearly palpable. A line has been crossed and they stand together over it wondering where they go from here. What's to be said? Should one seek forgiveness from the other? Or should they pretend it never happened, silently resenting the other until it builds up so much that it erupts for both of them. The shouting and the fighting. He glances away. Did they ever fight? They must have. They were together for six years. Were their fights different? He's violent, did he ever strike her?

He doesn't linger on that thought, if he did it'd be the last thing he ever did, Rose would dole it out ten times worse and would never go back. He never struck her. Of that he's certain. Why is this such a terrible problem for him to get over? He has to make the effort; she's begged him to let it go. He has to try. He said he would. So he goes over to the rails and leans against them. It takes her a moment to realise he's there. When she glances up she tilts her head and grips the rails, leaning forward.

'Dinner?' She repeats the words, the sound foreign. She isn't used to these types of dinners.

It's been awhile since she's been to anyone's house. And when she did she felt welcome there. She and Cat commanding the kitchen, laughing like schoolgirls while Charlie and the others would move from the lounge to the outside. She knows this will be awkward.

'Do you feel like going?' He wonders and Rose looks to the console. Truthfully she doesn't feel like doing anything right now.

'Not really, no,' Rose confesses and doesn't miss the Doctor's gaze on her. He wants to ask why, as though he doesn't know. So she decides to stop that conversation before they have it. 'But if she needs us then we go, yeah?'

The Doctor is surprised by her answer. He nods his head. 'That's right, but there is a place I want to stop off at after.'

'Where is it?'

'Church.' He replies off hand and Rose leans forward to stare at him in disbelief; she can already tell his mind is wandering off. She eyes him.

'I beg your pardon?' She replies and carefully slides off the rails. She hasn't been to Church since she was with Charlie. She always feels out of her depth in a place like that. But she pushed a side her discomfort for him several times, what's one more? She just hoped she'd heard him wrong.

'Church. We're going to Church. I have to go.' He repeats and Rose watches him begin to walk towards the stairs to the second level. She frowns. She wants to ask him but figures there is a good reason to want to go to a place of worship, maybe it's none of her business to know.

Still she imagines the stuffy air, smelling slightly of incense or smoke, candles being lit, the painted spots on the floor where the sun would shine through the stained glass and the solemn atmosphere. And, in some cases as she'd learned, mean nuns. But this church they're going to…wouldn't be on Earth. It's one in another universe, so she's intrigued.

'Okay…' Rose begins to follow him. She watches him disappear into the halls and decides not to see what's lying around in his room, rather she wants to go to her own and see. She can't very well wear black, can she? Then she'd have to change into something else for Clara's dinner. Christmas already?

She wraps her arms around herself as she walks down the halls, nearly meandering to her room. She remembers how much she used to look forward to Christmas. Now, though, it's just another day. As it had been before she met Charlie and before losing her way back to the parallel world. Still, those feelings belong in a ball. She can't be pouty all day; it's not a good look. She attempts to plaster the smile on her face anyway, and when she gets to her room she's resolved to see if she has a nice red dress. Or a green one. Whichever she finds first and whichever she likes more.

It's the red one. The one that combines modernity with a bit of 50s flare in the skirt. So she inhales and sets to work fixing her hair, removing the braid and curling it, redoing her makeup and finding appropriate heels, only emerging when she's satisfied with everything. Again she takes her time walking to the console room. Something worries her. What if things never get better? What if his finding out about Charlie drives a wedge between them forever? What if this is something he's unable to get over even though he said he'd try. It concerns her. But she dare not vocalise her concerns for fear that he'd simply brush it off and it'd start a fight. She guesses that until the tension subsides…things will be different. She'll be staying in her own room for one. Just for now. Hopefully.

She doesn't see him right away when she descends the last stair. She wonders if she's beaten him here until he rounds the console and she widens her eyes, taking a step back. Her shock melts away to confusion and she frown, tilting her chin away from him. He isn't wearing anything. He's completely naked. He smiles at her.

'Take off your clothes.' He instructs and motions her to do it with his hands. Rose folds her arms and eyes him with a cold stare. He doesn't seem to notice it. Does he just think that by having sex it's going to fix everything? Not in a million years.

'Excuse me? No. Not only no. Hell no.'

'What? It's not like I haven't seen you without your clothes on before.' He reminds her and she feels the heat creeping into her cheeks. She swallows and inhales deeply, pushing away the truth to his words.

'Be that as it may…why the hell do you want me to take my clothes off?'

The Doctor frowns at her and tilts his head. 'I told you, we're going to church.'

Rose gapes at him. 'What?! Church? A church for nudists?!'

'What? No!'

'Then tell me what the hell is going on?' Rose demands and he appears as though he's going to explain it to her when the TARDIS shudders and it tells her they've landed, he looks to the door and begins fiddling with something on the console. She waits for her answer.

'We're going to dinner with Clara and then church.' He replies vaguely and Rose sighs, making her way towards the door, it's better if she goes first. She hopes he gets his priorities straightened; she'd hate to have to explain that one, especially since she's no idea what's going on.

'Right, well, I'll go first I guess.'

'What? Why?' He calls to her from fiddling or whatever it is he's working on. Peculiar time to want to do something like complete a project. She reaches the door and turns over her shoulder.

'Well, you'll scare her. So I want to give her a heads up.' Rose explains and he looks up with a confused look. He wants to ask a follow up question but she's already left, a brisk pace she's set. He just wants to get the hologram machine running. Whether she likes it or not she's going to have to take those clothes off. And besides, he remembers her rather enjoying strutting around in the nude. Maybe not if she's provoked.

Rose notices Clara has already running towards them from the building she lives in, waving and a smile on her face. Rose glances back to the TARDIS and sighs.

'I am so sorry.' Rose automatically says when she clears from the TARDIS first, striding towards Clara across the green field and it causes Clara to halt in her tracks.

She studies Rose in her brilliant red dress and black pumps. Okay, what's she sorry for? She looks normal. Rose, she's stunning and fashion savvy. She's confused, until she sees why. She gasps and covers her eyes, turning around in a flourish. Why in the hell is he naked?!

'Clara!' He calls affectionately and she shakes her head, holding her hand out while Rose plants her fists on her hips. She isn't impressed at all. Still his explanation makes no sense.

Clara holds out her hand to stop him from advancing and further than the TARDIS door. 'No, stop, stop, don't move, don't do anything!' She cries and continues to shake her head.

The Doctor frowns and looks over to Rose who looks pretty in her red dress. Not that he's gotten a chance to tell her. 'What?'

'I told you.' Is all Rose says, a sigh in her voice.

'What is it? What's wrong?' He wonders and Clara gapes at Rose who again simply shrugs her shoulders in an apologetic manner but she clearly isn't surprised by his antics.

'You're naked!' Clara hisses, her back turned to him, not willing to move for anything.

'Yes, I am naked. Wondered if you'd noticed.' He replies and Clara sighs. Not understanding his motives is a game no one wins and everyone gets frustrated for not winning.

'I told you.' Rose repeats and the Doctor tilts his head.

'Settle down there, chippy.' The Doctor states and Rose arches her eyebrow at the antiquated expression. There's that jealousy again, rearing its ugly head. She should have known better than to take his word for it. He can't sweep it away. They both can't. It's who they are. It still doesn't stop her from folding her arms. Will he ever stop seeing Charlie beside her when he looks at her?

'I prefer twist.' She counters evenly, she nearly tells him Flametop will suffice as well, but decides against it, that memory is for the two of them. Despite himself, the Doctor smiles. Maybe he can see why that gangster fell for her. She is very irresistible. And she'd stick out in 1930.

'Doctor, why are you naked?' Clara jumps in, effectively ending their stand off and the Doctor shrugs.

'Because we're going to church.' He tells her simply and walks back to the console and presses something. The air around them shifts and there is a loud whooshing noise that engulfs them. Rose is relieved when he emerges from around the console and he has clothes on. Or what appears to be clothes. He doesn't, she realises. It's a projection, oh good god.

'Can I look?' Clara wonders to Rose and the Doctor holds out his arms to his sides.

'Better?' He inquires and Clara slowly and with much apprehension turns around and a smile crosses her face, it quickly disappears.

'Oh, that was quick.' She thinks and the Doctor grins at her.

'Hologram clothes, projected directly onto your visual cortex.' He explains and Rose shakes her head, she had been right. Clara processes his words, his explanation and it hits her. She widens her eyes and points slightly.

'Still naked underneath?' She assumes and the Doctor scoffs at her remark.

'Everybody's naked underneath.' He replies seriously and Rose presses her hand to her head. This church, which is apparently not for nudists but holy hell what other explanation is there? This church better be interesting or worth it.

Clara apparently doesn't care for his analogy either. 'Ugh. Don't say things like that, it's Christmas. Come on, come meet my family.' Clara swallows a lump in her throat and motions at the Doctor to join her and Rose who has begun to walk away from them. Clara notices. Did they have a fight? Well there's no time to kiss and make up now, hopefully the hostility won't be palpable.

She inhales deeply and calms her nerves as best she can. She's never been much of a liar, she's too transparent and she remembers the look of incredulity she'd been given from her father when she invented the lie about seeing someone. Well, she's going to prove them wrong, isn't she?

Sometimes it's hard taking the back seat and letting someone else lead. She is used to being in command, setting the rules and giving orders. Now though, she has to let Clara do it. And keep quiet. It's hard. So she hangs back, Clara opens the door and inhales deeply, she doesn't miss that. It strikes Rose hard, she doesn't know a lot about Clara. At all. Not like how well she knew Donna, or to a lesser extent, Martha. She barely knew Amy and Rory. She feels rather…terrible she hasn't made more of an effort. She'll have to change that.

Clara and the Doctor enter the little flat first. Everything is neat and tidy and smells wonderful. Rose enters next, maybe she can see what she can do to help in the kitchen, it won't be how things were with Cat, but she can make it work. Rose pauses in the lounge archway with the Doctor while Clara enters first to conduct the introductions. Out of habit Rose smoothes down the front of her dress and holds the breath in her longer than normal before exhaling slowly.

'Hello, so, er, here they are!' Clara announces and Rose elects to go first, Clara's family stands to greet her and she extends her hand, they do the same.

The man smiles warmly at her. 'Hello, so nice to have you.'

'Thank you for having me, Mr Oswald, my name's Rose.'

Clara step mum grips her hand next. 'So nice to meet you, Rose. Merry Christmas.'

'Same to you.' Rose replies and shakes Clara's grandmother's hand. She covers Rose's hand with her own.

'Nice to have you, dear.'

A small pang in her heart reminds her of the Christmases she spent in the parallel world. And then the ones with Charlie. Her families. Damn she misses them. She takes a seat next to Clara's grandmother. While her calm and respectful introduction had been uneventful, the Doctor's is a different story. He's boisterous, as always. But something about the way Clara's parents refuse to look at him causes her to frown and get concerned. Why are they looking at him like that?

'So, Rose, Clara tells me you teach at school with her?' Clara's father wonders and Rose gives him a pained smile.

Rose glances to Clara who looks at her expectantly and with a pleading look in her eyes. 'Uh, yeah, yes. I do. Started a little after she did.'

'What do you teach there? Clara's always a bit sketchy with details.'

A million and one thoughts run around in her mind about the subjects she believes she'd be qualified to teach. History, art history, French, Russian, physical education? Oh god, what? She begins to panic, they're waiting for her answer, and she's been stalling too long. Her heart is racing.

'American history.'

Everyone turns to the Doctor and Rose stares at him wide eyed. He shrugs. Everyone turns back to her waiting for her confirmation. She swallows. Well, at least they're looking at him finally. They don't stare for long before their gazes jump back to her.

'Well how fascinating. Such a wide scope of things to teach.' Clara's dad comments. Rose feigns a smile, she feels as though she's going to be sick.

'Ah, that's nothing she specialises in the 1920s and the1930s. Prohibition, bootlegging, criminality. All that good stuff.' The Doctor replies and realises that the words keep coming even though he's trying to stop them. There's the jealousy speaking. And Rose…is staring at him with a blank expression and a pale face. This time, however the family doesn't look at him. Why? What's stopping them?

Clara's father nods his head fascinated. 'What an interesting time to study. An awful lot of material though, wouldn't you say?'

Again Rose doesn't have a chance to respond before the Doctor answers for her. Oh, he's in for a world of trouble when she finds her voice again. Right now it's all she can do to keep from throwing up. Her heart is racing and she feels faint. She can feel Clara's eyes on her confused about what the Doctor is saying.

'She knows the subject matter rather…intimately, wouldn't you agree, Rose?' The Doctor widens his eyes at the sentence that's left his mouth. What the hell is wrong with him? He's just called her out, in front of everyone, for having a liaison with someone they wouldn't know, but maybe they would, but that the two of them know. They'd just found neutral ground and he's gone and been the first to fire shots.

Oh god, she wants the ground to open up and swallow her. Her heart is racing, she's so angry she's numb. Internally she's shaking, she hopes it isn't visible. Again she tries another smile, agreeing while nodding her head. Her throat is tight and her mouth is dry.

'It can be. But everything eventually connects, like a story.' She replies in a small voice. The Doctor brushes aside her comment.

'She's being too modest; she's very scholarly, very dedicated to her subjects. Subject,' He comments and it elicits a rather satisfied smile from Clara's dad. The Doctor abruptly remembers something. His manners. 'Sorry, everyone! I've forgotten something important. Hello, the Oswalds. Hello!' The Doctor strides towards them and shakes their hands even if they won't offer it and Rose can't wrap her head around it, not that she cares to, too much going through her mind. Still. Why be friendly with her but not him? 'Merry Christmas. Hello, hello!' He kisses Clara's grandmother on both cheeks and she gives a little giggle. 'Hello, handsome. Anyone for Twister?' He offers and Rose watches the Oswalds and their inability to take their gaze from him.

Why? What's so different about their introductions?

Clara notices it as well, Rose can see it in her eyes but she nonetheless presses on with the introduction. 'So…this is the Doctor. My boyfriend,' Clara pauses and notices the looks of horror and disgust on their faces. She frowns at the lack of hospitality. 'Isn't anyone going to say hello?' She wonders desperately.

Rose looks over to Clara's grandmother, she has a slightly bashful expression and again lightly giggles. Clara's parents outright refuse to look at him. Why? Something's amiss but what?

'Hello.' Clara's grandmother finally speaks but it's with a rather…flirtatious tone to it. It instantly strikes her and she widens her eyes, staring at him, wanting to jump out of her chair to shake him. How the hell could he forget something as important as that?!

She wants to rise out of her seat but finds herself unable to. He finally must have finally realised the thick tension in the air because he looks to her, with her wide eyes and look of horror to lowering himself to Clara's side, whispering something to her. She can only imagine what. She grips the skirt fabric in her hands tightly, wrinkling it. The Doctor gives the family a tight smile.

'Excuse me a moment,' He turns his head slightly to whisper in Clara's ear. Her expression is blank. 'Listen, I've got an idea to break the ice. Why don't I project my clothes hologram onto their visual cortexes too?' He offers and Rose watches Clara's expression go from blank, to confusion to horror in one fell swoop.

'So, to be clear, no one except me and Rose can see your clothes?' Clara hisses furiously and she notices the fists Rose is making in her lap, she must have figured it out just now as well. She's frozen with shock.

The Doctor nods his head quickly. 'Yes, and I'm starting to think it may be causing some tension.'

Clara smiles awkwardly at her family before she rounds on the Doctor and hisses another command at him. 'Get in the kitchen!'

He blinks at her tone and odd request. 'Eh? Sorry?'

Clara pushes the Doctor from the lounge towards the kitchen and they both disappear out of sight. Rose wants to relax but finds herself unable to. What an idiot. How did he think that'd be okay?! She tries to release her grip from her dress but again nothing is cooperating with her. All of a sudden Clara pops back into the room, her face bright red.

'Sorry…he's Swedish,' She clears her throat and motions to Rose frantically. 'Rose, could you join me? In the kitchen? I need an opinion about what to do with…the food! Please?'

Clara's family watches her carefully as she mechanically raises from her seat, taking small steps towards the kitchen, her anger festering close to the surface. Clara wants an opinion on what to do with him. She's got a mind to tell him off. She doesn't realise it but she's pushed the sleeves of her dress up. She's still shaking inside.

Clara continues to motion for her to join them in the kitchen and when she does, Clara shuts the door. Rose can see the Doctor is opening the oven door to see how the turkey is doing. Rose doesn't like the prognosis. It's severely undercooked. She doesn't want to insult Clara by wondering if she had remembered to turn on the oven. The elements are a glowing orange, so it is on, but how high?

'Clara, I'm sorry, but the turkey…' Rose trails off and Clara tugs at her hair in desperation and frustration.

'I've messed it up, haven't I?'

Rose doesn't answer her; instead she rounds on the Doctor, ready to call him out for his disgraceful comments. 'And you,' She pushes the Doctor and he nearly falls into the open oven. He lets out a cry of surprise and turns to her. 'What the hell was that back there?!'

The Doctor straightens up and Rose immediately backs him into the sink. 'I…I…uh…I'm sorry?'

'Guys?' Clara attempts meekly, pointing to the turkey. They don't acknowledge her.

Rose shoves her finger in his face and he holds his hands up in defence. 'At least I know what an effort means coming from you. There is none!'

'I did…' He begins but Rose's icy glare instantly silences him. He's gotta offer up a better explanation. She is livid that he made no attempt to move on. After he swore he would. 'You're right. I didn't. I'm sorry. Really, I am.'

'If this is something you refuse to look past then I will go. It isn't an empty threat. I can make things fall right back into place.' She snaps her fingers. He swallows uncomfortably.

'Guys…?' Clara tries again. Still nothing. She bites her lip. The turkey…

'No, no. I mean it. Stay. I'll…try,' He promises and Rose scoffs, folding her arms and looking out the window. 'I mean it.'

'One last chance.' Rose informs him and he exhales slowly when she turns to Clara who has attempted to get their attention for the third time.

'Yes, Clara?' The Doctor wonders and exhales, Rose's words still ringing loudly in his mind. He had been right. If he wants her to stay with him then he'll have to let this go. Seriously.

'The turkey is ruined. Can you use an app?' Clara wonders and bends down to take it out of the oven carefully tilting the pan from side to side to inspect it. It certainly doesn't look appetising or have a golden tone to it.

'An app?' The Doctor repeats and Rose tilts her head, confused by what Clara wants him to do. She eager nods her head.

'On your screwdriver, app it.' She repeats and the Doctor immediately shakes his head at her. He digs it out of his pocket and waves it around.

'Most certainly not, it doesn't do turkey. Nothing does turkey. You'd need a time machine.' He explains and Rose and Clara look at one another before staring at him. He doesn't seem to get his words until Rose has started towards the door, highly curious to see how this is going to work.

Rose watches Clara run awkwardly across the field towards the TARDIS, the pan with the turkey clasped tightly in her hands, with the Doctor chasing behind her and Rose trailing behind them slowly. She feels…she feels nothing. She's so wrapped up in her mind with what she ought to be feeling that she doesn't realise she's reached the TARDIS until she hears Clara and the Doctor in the TARDIS arguing. She wants to get out of this stupid dress. This was a stupid idea. She just wants to crawl into bed and be left alone.

'You can't keep using the TARDIS like this.' The Doctor complains and Clara turns over her shoulder, noticing that Rose is standing on the bottom stair to the second level.

'Like what?' Clara is already heading to the lower level and as curious as she is, Rose changes her mind and watches the Doctor descend after her and she lingers at the top of the stairs.

'Missed birthdays, restaurant bookings. And please just learn how to use iPlayer.' The Doctor begs and Rose finds herself crinkling her nose at what he's just said. She glances to the ceiling still stunned.

'Missed restaurant bookings? And you let him?' Rose whispers, there is a small hum in response, she smirks. Rose takes a few careful steps down there and Clara's little 'ooh' makes her wonder. Since when has the commanding of the TARDIS gone…downhill?

'Ooh, vortex cooking?' Clara's excited voice is heard and Rose takes a few more steps down. The Doctor's audible sigh is heard.

'Yup, exposure to the time winds,' The Doctor explains and Rose observes him opening one of the panels and Clara gingerly sets the pan with the turkey in it inside. Small things like this…the Doctor she knew…wouldn't have never entertained the thought of her doing something like this. Huh. People really do change. 'It'll either come up a treat, or just possibly lay some eggs,' He closes the panel and notices Rose standing there with a curious look on her face. 'Rose! Care to make a bet? What do you think, treat or eggs?'

She doesn't have time to answer him because a new voice erupts around them. Rose slowly climbs the stairs back to the console, the Doctor and Clara not far behind her. This should be interesting.

'Information available.'

Clara tilts her head at the voice, wondering where it's coming from. 'What's that?'

The Doctor points off handily to the Cyberman head still perched on its spot where the Doctor had originally left it. 'Oh, just a bit of a Cyberman. He'll get us to the church on time.'

Rose is already warily watching the head and leery of the information that it wants to give them. And yet she wants to know if the information is what she's suspected. This so-called message is a warning, she knows it, but what's the origin? That's what they're trying to find out.

'I have developed a fault.' Handles informs them and Rose frowns. She walks to the screen and notices that they have materialised along with all the other ships in front of a planet she's never seen before. Strangely their presence goes unnoticed.

'The organics are all gone, but there's still a full set of data banks. Found it at the Maldovar market.' The Doctor explains and begins to set the TARDIS into motion once again; Rose grips the console to steady herself and Clara nods her head absently.

'Planet identified, from analysis of message.' Handles declares and the Doctor seems to be pleasantly surprised by that.

'Right cool, go on, then. Okay, tell us, what is the planet? Go on.' The Doctor encourages and Rose begins to bend down to slip off her shoes. They're pinching her feet. Now she remembers why she had thrown them at the back of the closet.

'Processing official designation. Processing.'

There is another pause. Rose fumbles with the strap on the one heel. Her feet are aching now. She can't undo them fast enough. Another thought strikes her. Why haven't they simply gone down to investigate it further? Is there something preventing them? A shield surrounding the planet? Not unlikely. But the TARDIS unable to get through? That's unlikely.

'Okay, in your own time, dear. Don't rush!' The Doctor sighs impatiently. Clara takes a peek at the monitor and then looks to the Doctor who is still waiting for the information to come through and then to Rose who is starting towards the stairs to the second level again.

'So, why haven't you just gone down there and had a look?' Clara wonders and the Doctor shakes his head.

'Can't. It's shielded. Even the TARDIS can't break through.' He explains and Rose takes a few more steps up when the word that Handles utters stuns her and stops her in her tracks. She can see the Doctor straighten up. There must be some mistake.

'Gallifrey.'

The Doctor stares at Handles thinking he's misheard him. He can hear Rose descending a few more stairs as well. 'What did you say?' He walks slowly towards Handles.

'Gallifrey.' Handles repeats and Rose slowly descends the stairs and cautiously walks to join the Doctor as he stares at Handles in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words.

'What are you talking about? Gallifrey? What do you mean?' He doesn't mean the words to come out as rushed as they do, but he's certain there is a loose wire somewhere. That word doesn't fit into this sentence.

'Confirmed. Planet designation – Gallifrey.' Handles repeats seriously as before. Rose doesn't understand. She walks towards them in a dazed state of mind, wondering how a message could come from Gallifrey. She jumps when the Doctor yanks Handles off of the makeshift stand he'd been perched on and hauls him over to the monitor, as though it'll make a difference.

'You see that? Gallifrey is my home; I know it when I see it. That is not Gallifrey!' He shouts and slams the head onto the console before stalking towards the door. Rose bites her lip and pauses in her step wondering if she should be offering comfort to him, especially after what they've just been through. Clara takes the lead.

'Doctor, are you okay?' Clara wonders quietly and Rose takes a stand beside him, pushing her thoughts about earlier away. To the wayside. To numb herself. One catastrophe at a time.

He turns to Rose when she places her hand on his shoulder. 'It's not Gallifrey. Gallifrey's gone…' He tells her and opens the door slowly, as if by doing so it would magically make it appear.

But it doesn't. Below them is a planet that looks nothing like Gallifrey, as ordinary as anything, hundreds if not thousands of ships suspended above it, hovering. Watching and waiting for something to happen. Rose is mesmerised by what she sees but slowly comes back to her senses. She squeezes his shoulder.

'I know…' Rose whispers and Clara takes a few more tentative steps towards them and attempts to rouse their spirits. They seem to have forgotten something very key.

'Unless…' Clara trails off when Rose and the Doctor turn over their shoulders to stare at her. She motions to the vast space sprawled before them. 'Unless you saved it. You thought you might have.'

They look down at the planet before them. All quiet in their own thoughts. The Doctor looks at Rose when she lifts her gaze to him. Their silent conversation. Is Clara right? A look of cloudy uncertainty. How does he know for sure? Another look. Rose presses her lips together. He relents and closes his eyes.

'Even if it survived, it's gone from this universe,' The Doctor states, his voice rising after every word. Rose stares at him. 'That is not my home!' He shouts and slams the door Rose watches as he strides back to the console and Clara side steps out of his way. He grips the console and leans forward. 'It can't be.' He whispers and Rose folds her arms.

'Then there is something related to Gallifrey that this…Cyberman Head-…'

'Handles.' The Doctor interjects and Rose shrugs.

'Whatever. Something from Gallifrey is connected to this planet. We need to find the how and the why. There's a purpose. It's all connected. The message, that planet, those ships, all of it.'

The Doctor gives her a smile and before he can tell her that she's renewed the vigour in him there is a reverberating sound blast. It resembles the sound that a large cruise ship would make. Clara turns around in small circles and Rose isn't sure she can handle more surprises.

'What's that?' Clara calls over and the Doctor smirks at her while he walks back to the door and throws it open in triumph. Rose widens her eyes at a large, multi storied ship that slows down to park along side the TARDIS.

'Papal Mainframe. It's like a great, big flying church. The first ship to arrive. They are the ones who shielded the planet. They can get us down there.' The Doctor declares and the moment he finishes informing Rose and Clara of the Church ship's purpose a hologram of a woman is projected against the ship. The Doctor bows deeply. He motions for Clara and Rose to the same but Clara does and Rose folds her arms arching her eyebrow. Yeah, right.

'Friend of yours?' Clara surmises and Rose tilts her head watching the woman with dark hair carefully. As she does with Rose. A hard look in her eyes.

'Tasha Lem, the Mother Superious,' The Doctor explains and Tasha crooks her index finger at the three of them. The Doctor smiles and claps his hands. 'Oh, she's inviting us aboard.'

Clara crinkles her nose. 'Why?'

'Because I asked her. Swallow this. Rose, catch.' The Doctor lobs a small pill to Rose after he's given one to Clara who swallows it without hesitation. Rose carefully studies it. After Clara swallows it she glances up to the Doctor.

'What is it?' She questions and Rose sniffs it. She has a bad feeling about this.

'Your hologram projector. You can't go to church with your clothes on!' The Doctor informs them and Rose and Clara exchange looks while the Doctor blows Tasha a kiss.

Rose holds on to the pill as she and Clara head up the stairs to their rooms. If she's going to be running around some church then she wants to be doing it in functional clothing. And Clara doesn't want to take the chance of disrobing only to find out that the pill isn't working. They disappear down opposite hallways.

The TARDIS continues to move towards the Mainframe's ship. And as Rose is slipping on her cargo pants she can't help but wonder why there is a feel of dread building within her. Why things are going to get so much more dangerous for them. That this is only the beginning

Rose turns over her shoulder to where Clara is falling a few steps behind, when she catches Rose watching she attempts to pick up her pace but something changes her mind. Is it what she perceives as the bouncing? Who hasn't strutted around in the nude before? Rose turns her attention front, her cheeks getting red. Someone she once knew loved when she walked around their rooms in the nude. Damn memories. Clara watches Rose and the Doctor continuing to stride along the red-carpeted floor with confidence. How do they do that? Are they not worried that people can see them? Without their clothes on?!

The hallway is long, Clara doesn't like the feeling of potentially being leered at and so she focuses on the Church to take her mind off things. The walkway gives way to being suspended over a deep chamber. She widens her eyes when she can see members of this Church line the walkway as they stroll onwards, always forward. And yet oddly their stares do not linger for an uncomfortable amount of time. She hurries her pace and hunches over, not wanting anyone to see or to see as little as possible. The woman, Tasha, stands on a dais awaiting them. Another man flanks her side.

When Clara finally matches their pace she glances around her and whispers her fears. 'I don't feel like I'm wearing anything.'

Rose had to convince her multiple times when they met in the halls before starting this endeavour that the hologram pill she swallowed worked. And that she could see nothing. The Doctor smiles at her comment.

'I know, relaxing isn't it?' He wonders with the same hushed voice. Rose can't help but smile. It is…liberating in a sense. Try walking around naked in the heart of London…she nearly giggles.

'What is this place?' Clara interrupts and Rose turns to the Doctor. The stories she'd heard at the Proclamation didn't really paint the Church as being so…ostentatious. Then again she should have known. Religion, in this case in a warped sense, do enjoy showing off.

'The Church of the Papal Mainframe – security hub of the known universe.' The Doctor answers her and Clara frowns at his words.

'A security church?' She simplifies and the Doctor nods his head. Rose can see the woman, Tasha staring at her before shifting her gaze to the Doctor.

'Yup. Keeping you said in this world and the next! I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious.' The Doctor calls and bows to Tasha. Rose reluctantly does the same while Clara drops into a nervous curtsey.

'Welcome to the Church of the Papal Mainframe,' The man beside Tasha calls to them. 'Your nudity is appreciated. My name is Albero.'

Tasha gives them a nod but her gaze is focused on the Doctor. 'Hey, babes.'

The Doctor beams up at her and Rose arches her eyebrow. 'Loving the frock!' He compliments her dark robes and Rose concedes. They look great.

'Is that a new body? Give us a twirl!' Tasha commands and the Doctor humbly smiles at her, giving her another light bow.

'Tash, this old thing?' He questions and in a slow circle, clockwise then counter clockwise. 'Please, I've been rocking it for centuries.'

Tasha merely arches her eyebrow with a smirk. 'Nice, though. Tight. Who is that to your right?'

Rose smiles, she had caught Lem looking at her. 'Ms Lem, Rose Tyler. Lovely to make your acquaintance.'

'It's actually Mother -…' The Doctor begins before he is silenced with a look from Tasha. Rose gives him a superior smirk.

Tasha smiles at the blonde woman to the Doctor's right and folds her arms as she gives Rose a bit of a once over. Rose pushes her weight to one side and sticks her hip out. 'You look awfully similar to one Marion Smith, who used to run the Proclamation. Give us a turn.' Tasha instructs and Rose does as she's told.

'Perhaps it is because we are one in the same,' Rose remarks and she can see a faint smile spread over Tasha's lips. She is surprised when Tasha arches her eyebrow the longer she looks at her. 'See something you like?'

'I didn't think the former head of the Proclamation would be so…firm. In manifestation and personality.' Tasha adds and Rose finds herself smiling regarding the comment. She's never been…glanced upon as Tasha is before. At least not to her knowledge.

'I'm full of surprises.' Rose answers and the Doctor leans forward to stare at her, before then regarding Tasha who is chuckling softly.

'I bet you are. I bet you are.' Tasha murmurs and Rose gives her a playful grin. Clara blinks from surprise and steps forward waving her hand lightly in an attempt to get their attention.

'So, er, hello! Also here!' Clara interjects, cutting the tension, if there is any the Doctor clears his throat, stepping forward and motioning to Tasha. She finally shifts her gaze from Rose to Clara with an impatient smile.

'Clara, this is Tasha Lem, the Head of the Church of the Papal Mainframe. Tash, ho, ho ho, this is my other…uh, my other…associate, Clara Oswald. Miss Clara Oswald and Ms Rose Tyler a.k.a Marion Smith.'

She gives Clara a dismissive nod and Rose another once over before turning to the man by her side and motions to the back room with her head. 'Albero, we'll go to my chapel,' She steps off the platform and raises her voice to address those in audience. 'All honours in place. No sacrifices required.' Tasha announces and Clara stares at her, unsure who the sacrifices would be.

She notices that Tasha has begun to lead them through the twisting corridors with stone pillars that seem to hold up the darkness in the halls. She trots to catch up to the massive stride, Tasha, the Doctor and Rose make. Damn their long legs. She didn't realise that Rose knew Tasha, although judging by the reaction Rose had given her, she didn't know she knew either. So like their normal, apparently. She is surprised to see the Doctor drop back to talk to Clara while Rose continues to entertain Tasha.

'It was Tasha who shielded the planet,' The Doctor explains but then loudly addresses Tasha who pauses to look over her shoulder at him. 'But you could sneak me down there, could you, Tash?'

Tasha arches her eyebrow and they continue walking until they reach a pair of doors. 'I would have conditions,' She replies and the Doctor eagerly nods his head, anything to appease her so that they can get down to that planet and investigate. However Tasha makes no move to open the door. She looks to Rose and Clara. 'I have confidential matters to discuss with the Doctor, however the former head of the Proclamation could be…useful to me as well. Rose Marion, will you join us?'

Rose looks taken back and nods her head before she speaks, ignoring the seductive smile on Tasha's face. 'Sure, okay.'

Clara looks forlorn before the Doctor catches her eye and he points defiantly at Tasha. 'Anything you have to say to me or Rose, you can say in front of Clara,' He responds and Clara smiles appreciatively at him before he falters and his look clouds over. 'Well…quite a lot of it. Probably about half, maybe a smidge…under,' He pauses and sighs. 'Actually Clara, would you mind waiting out here?'

Clara holds up her hands in acknowledgement. 'No worries! You three get yourselves a room.' She teases and Rose opens her mouth to protest, sincerely hoping that isn't where this is going. Although one can never tell.

And Tasha doesn't help things but refusing to answer and slowly opening up the doors to her inner chambers. Rose reluctantly follows. The Doctor absently nods his head while following her.

'Yes, quite,' He pauses and looks at Clara who has a smirk on her face. He frowns when he realises her words. 'No, stop it!'

Clara holds up her hands and is unable to suppress the smirk when Tasha beckons Rose inside behind her and summons the Doctor. 'Boss of the psycho space nuns. So you!' She declares and the Doctor pauses before giving her a smirk and shrugs.

The gravity of Clara's words finally dawn on him and he widens his eyes. He enters Tasha's room to see Rose standing awkwardly to one side, glancing to the alter which could double of something else and Tasha is giving the two of them a sultry stare. He holds his arms out, hoping things aren't going to take an…interesting turn. He swallows.

'Well…'

Tasha offers no reply, instead the doors close behind him and Rose makes a silent gesture, rubbing her neck as she motions to the bed when she turns her head to the side. Doesn't help his thoughts as well, this…could turn…well; they could be blown way the hell off course. Tasha is waiting for them near the bed or alter or both with drinks in her hands. Rose elects for him to approach her first while she lightly treads behind him.

As the Doctor approaches Tasha, he absently points to the mysterious two-function object that lies before them. 'That alter looks like a bed.'

Tasha smirks and takes a sip from her drink. 'That bed looks like an alter.'

The Doctor accepts her words and presses down onto the mattress. 'Yup.'

Rose attempts to steer this rapidly grown ball of tension in another direction. 'Ms Lem -…'

'Tasha, please.'

'Okay, Tasha. It seems we have a common problem at hand.' Rose gingerly takes a seat on the chair Tasha offers her while the Doctor drops down into the one at the opposite end. Tasha hands her a drink and glides across the table to the opposite side to serve the Doctor his.

Rose brings it to her lips and takes a small drink, feeling it burn down her throat as she swallows. She observes the Doctor taking a large gulp before immediately regretting that decision and spits it back into his glass, inconspicuously to boot while he sets it down on the table. Rose does the same. That is strong stuff. Hold a match up to her mouth and she could light it.

Tasha eyes them carefully before sitting beside the Doctor. 'Excuse me,' She breathes and reaches across him to press a button. The message begins to play for them. Rose stares off and really listens to what is playing. Tasha clears her throat. 'That message is…transmitting through all of space and time. What did it make you feel?' She adjusts herself to be closer to the Doctor.

'Feel?' The Doctor breaks in before Rose can and he stands, starting to pace. Rose watches him carefully. Tasha merely nods her head and leans back, nearly touching hands with Rose.

'Every sentient being in the universe who detected that signal felt something. Something overpowering.' Tasha explains and the Doctor eyes her carefully. Rose feels uneasy all of a sudden and rubs her arm. Something about this doesn't add up.

'Fear. Pure, unadulterated dread.' Tasha replies and Rose presses her lips together, she glances to her drink while the Doctor gets to his feet meandering around the room.

'Right, what's the signal, where it coming from?' He wonders and Tasha stands, setting her drink down. Rose rises as well. Something isn't sitting well with her, but she can't figure out why. There is just this feeling of dread. Just like Tasha said those that hear the message feel.

'It's a settlement. Human colony, level two. A farm, basically.' Tasha sets down her drink and Rose inhales deeply, pushing aside her discomfort to treat this as another typical mission.

'No one has been down to have a look, have they, Tasha?' Rose wonders and Tasha shakes her head.

'Any one ship lands, the rest will follow. And there will be bloodshed.' Tasha explains and Rose rubs her neck, not enjoying where this is going. She sighs.

'Then it's rather good you arrived first to shield the planet from total war.'

'Indeed, Rose. We maintain a truce by blocking them all.'

'I'd hate to think of trying to stop an all out war on the planet.' Rose replies and Tasha nods her head solemnly.

'That is why it's imperative that we investigate the origin of this message so that things may be set right.' Tasha meanders over to where the Doctor has paused in front of the bed and she joins him, leaning over the side. The Doctor mimics her actions and Rose goes to the foot of the bed, curious to see how this will play out.

'Daleks, Cybermen - one of that lot - could break though your defences.' The Doctor reminds her and Tasha gives him a sultry smirk and a small shrug.

'Perhaps. But they're afraid, remember? Nobody wants to go first.' Tasha replies and the Doctor pulls back and straightens up, a wide smile on his face.

'I do.' He declares and Rose begins thinking as to what weapons would be beneficial, if any at all. She could be going to war. What's to stop her or them from attacking the other? It's still a scary thought. She doesn't want to prep for war. Then again, who does?

'I was counting on it.' Tasha says triumphantly. And she straightens up, glancing to Rose with an arched eyebrow. 'And you, Rose. Are you up for a challenge, for a potentially dangerous adventure?'

'Always. It's been awhile.' Rose decides, not counting the one she'd been on with three versions of the Doctor. That had gotten complicated enough. Plus they had been in the middle of a fight as well, actually aren't they still supposed to be in a fight over that? The Valentine's Day dinner he found out her connections to Albert and the underworld? And then eventually Charlie? What to do...?

'Good, I like a woman who's…fierce.' Tasha begins to walk towards the back end of her chambers when Rose plants her hands on her hips.

'I bet you do.' Rose comments and Tasha winks at her.

Rose is about to comment when all of a sudden the doors to Tasha's chambers burst open and Clara runs in looking over her shoulder, breathing heavily. Something has spooked her. Rose tilts her head.

'Clara? You okay?' The Doctor wonders and Clara's attention is turn from the halls, of which Rose can see nothing alarming, to the Doctor. A metamorphosis happens. The fear that had gripped her mere seconds ago melts away only to be replaced with confusion and a lack of understanding.

She smiles a bit, tight and restrained as she attempts to figure out why she's decides to run into these rooms. Rose doesn't miss that. 'Fine. Yeah, fine. Sorry.'

Tasha gives a Clara a disapproving glare for her intrusion but nonetheless continues to what appears to be a confessional booth hiding behind a red curtain. Rose arches her eyebrow as Tasha motions to the confessional.

Tasha gives a Clara a disapproving glare for her intrusion but nonetheless continues to what appears to be a confessional booth hiding behind a red curtain. Rose arches her eyebrow as Tasha motions to the confessional and inhaling deeply.

'Right, this is my personal teleport. I can put you down just outside the town. Find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour,' Tasha watches the Doctor's face light up and rushes to enter one of the cubicles of the booth. She clears her throat and he turns back to her. 'And on your life, Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there.'

Rose can see the Doctor looks as though he's about to agree without agreeing. Fearing a confession like that, should Tasha pick up on the subtle clues - something tells her she's more than capable of seeing through his lies - Rose fears that the carpet will be pulled from under them, so to speak. She immediately answers for him, so that they don't get caught.

'I will make sure of it.' Rose promises and the Doctor frowns. Tasha nods her head in approval. Leave it to a Proclamation head, former or not, to ensure the rules are followed. They thrive on consistency and law-abiding tendencies.

'Good. Because I am not an idiot. Everyone in this church is trained to see straight through holograms.' Tasha reveals and Rose arches her eyebrow in a smirk, so that's what the display had been for earlier. Her eyes fixated on she and the Doctor. Well hopefully Tasha got a good show. Rose turns to Clara who appears to be horrified.

She sits on the bed in defeat. 'Ah. Great.' She sighs.

Tasha holds out her hand. 'Give now. You are taking no technology of any kind down there.'

The Doctor gives her a slight shrug and playful smirk. 'What can I do with a key?' He points to Rose. 'You. In,' Another pause as he watches Rose enter the confessional cubical before addressing Clara next. 'You too. In.'

Clara gets into the one unoccupied booth while Rose and the Doctor cram themselves into the second one. Always odd working with three instead of two. Rose closes the curtain first and Clara mimics her actions. However Tasha strides towards the booth Rose and the Doctor are in and opens the curtain in a flourish. She gives them a disapproving stare as Rose finagles herself around to get into some sort of comfort state. She widens her eyes when she sees Tasha's hard glare at them.

Tasha's look becomes flat. 'You could summon your TARDIS.' She reminds the Doctor and he shakes his head at her, pushing Rose out of the way slightly so he can angle himself into the booth a bit more.

The Doctor shakes his head. 'The TARDIS doesn't work by remote,' He declares and shuts the curtains again before they open in a hurry. 'Fine, if it makes you feel any better, there we are.' He removes the TARDIS key from around his neck and drops it into Tasha's outstretched hand. Rose remains silent as Tasha must not know that both she and Clara have keys. Well her key is her key; she doesn't give that up for anyone.

Tasha smiles and walks back over to the control panel near the confessional booth and is about to throw the switch when she pauses steels her voice. 'Remember, I want you all back in one hour.'

Rose locks eyes with the Doctor. 'Are we going to honour that request?' She whispers and the Doctor gives her a wistful smile.

'That depends.'

'On what we find?' Rose surmises and he nods his head as a bright light engulfs them. The last thing she could see clearly was the Doctor nodding his head. She closes her eyes so she can see later on when she opens them. Why does she feel the way she does? What is this feeling she's experiencing? Is it fear? No, it can't be that. Then what? It strikes her instantly. She knows. The feeling. She swallows.

That feeling of dread doesn't go away. Instead it builds.

The cool, chilled air hits them first when they land on the snowy planet. Clara widens her eyes and immediately begins rubbing her arms through the thin sweater. She inhales and exhales, her breath escaping her lips. She turns around in a small circle surveying their surroundings.

Snow is falling in large chunks around them; they are like bright stares against the dark sky. It covers the ground quickly and behind them she spies a church, with a large steeple. A small increase the wind brushes her and she squeezes her eyes shut.

'Oh, cold, very cold.' She breathes and notices that Rose nor the Doctor appear to be experiencing what she is. Rose just has this careful look on her face, guarded even. The Doctor is looking around with a slight smile on his face.

When he can see that Clara is frigid, he rushes over to her and rubs her arms with as Clara's teeth chatter. 'Okay, don't worry. There's a heat loss filter in your hologram shell, it'll kick in, just give it a moment, it'll kick in just give it a moment,' The Doctor assures her and embraces her tightly. Clara holds onto his jacket for warmth. 'So, sweet little town covered in snow, half the universe in terror. Why? Why?' He releases Clara and begins to survey the surroundings on one side while Clara takes the other. Rose stands rigidly.

The wind sways the trees around them, the snow drifting lazy to the ground. Rose gets an odd feeling being here. Something isn't right, there is something lurking around the corner, but she isn't sure what. She defaults to her mission settings, scanning things carefully barely listening to the Doctor and Clara discussing who knows what. Was that a movement? She blinks. Something moves.

'Oh, my god!' Clara breathes, she saw it too, and she takes a step back.

'What?' The Doctor wonders and turns to where they are both staring and doesn't see anything right away. Rose points to a mound of snow. What had been an untouched mound has since been disturbed, something is there.

'Doctor something's slipped by Tasha's shield. I think…' Rose pauses and slowly heading towards the arm. She gasps backing away. Clara doesn't sense the danger and approaches slowly, with caution as Rose had, even if she finds it unnecessary. She misses Rose's cues to stay back and with her.

'Rose what is it?' The Doctor wonders and watches Clara unearth a stony arm. He widens his eyes.

'It's them…' Rose stares at the arm stunned while the Doctor is frantically trying to get Clara's attention. She's still facing it, luckily but should she turn away...Rose would hate to think what could happen.

'It's just a cold piece of stone.' She informs them and the Doctor beckons him forward. Rose locks her eyes with the area before them. What if there's more? Rose swallows. Of all the things in the universe she's faced, they are the scariest.

'Okay, just stand back, please Clara.' The Doctor calls and Rose presses her lips together as Clara lightly laughs. Rose motions her towards them.

'It's okay, it's just stone. It's only a statue.' Clara replies, not understanding their terrified exterior. A bell rings off in the distance and Rose reflexively turns to look at it the moment Clara turns her back.

'Clara, step away from it!' The Doctor shouts and Rose realises that she's removed her gaze and she gasps. However she doesn't turn around in time because the moment she shifts her gaze to Clara it's too late. The statue has gripped her ankle. Clara widens her eyes.

'Clara, I've got my eyes on it, okay? Doctor, help her!' Rose instructs and she continues to stare deeply at the hand that has protruded from the snow. Crafty things, how did they manage to get here first? And from where did they come from?

The Doctor rushes past Rose and grips Clara tightly, trying to pull her as firmly and as gently as he can. 'Rose, don't stop staring at it.'

Rose desperately wants to roll her eyes but holds it back. Not a good time to not make eye contact with it. Instead she decides to be a bit snarky. 'Thank you, I know. Not my first doing this dance, remember.'

'What is it?' Clara wonders desperately, wiggling her foot, the grasp doesn't loosen in the slightest. For a statue, the grip is tight. Clara tries again.

'There is a Weeping Angel under the snow. Looks like a statue - isn't a statue,' The Doctor tugs on Clara lightly. To no avail. 'Can you get your foot out?' He wonders desperately. Clara presses her lips together to really assess the situation.

Clara wiggles her foot once more. 'Only if I get it out of my shoe.'

The Doctor pauses and stares at her foot. He frowns and looks at Clara. 'You're not wearing one.' He reminds her and Clara pauses.

'Huh. Good point.'

'Okay, just pull, hard!' The Doctor instructs and Clara does as she's bid, pulling hard, using the Doctor as support. He yanks her a bit as well, thinking that between the two of them, they can free her.

'I'm trying!' Clara replies desperately and Rose wishes to assist them but knows she's more useful staying where she is a watching that Weeping Angel. But the cold is starting to get to her and she desperately needs to blink. To satisfy herself she wraps her arms around herself and continues to watch.

'Oh…' The Doctor complains and tries harder. He lowers himself and re-grips Clara. 'Okay, one, two, three!' He tugs and Clara becomes unstuck. However the motion of freeing her propels them backwards and they tumble down a slope.

Rose can hear them fall but is unable to do anything about it. She looks away it could be her next. She bites her lip and remains where she is but after a few moments of silence pass, Rose takes a few steps back.

'Doctor? Clara? Are you guys all right?' Rose calls and grows concerned when Clara lets out a cry of surprise.

'They're climbing out of the snow, oh, god!' Clara cries and Rose takes another step backward, trying to feel around with her feet where the slope could be so that she can get down there.

'Doctor! What's going on?!' Rose shouts desperately but there is no answer to her, merely to Clara. It confirms her worst fears.

'Keep looking at them, all of them!' The Doctor instructs and Rose takes a few more steps back. No slope. Where is it? And how many Weeping Angels are there? Are they being surrounded? Oh god, are they being surrounded?

'Why?' Clara is heard replying and Rose stares at the arm still poking out. Dare she risk it to join them? How fast are the Angels? She doesn't recall, does she want to test her bravery to see? She bites her lip.

'Quantum locked life form. It can only move if it's unobserved.' The Doctor explains and Rose backs up a little bit more. Still no slope. She exhales.

'Doctor, are you and Clara all right?' Rose shouts to them and puts her hand over one eye to rest it while keeping her left eye on the angel still buried in the snow.

'Surrounded by Weeping Angels Rose. Couldn't be better!'

'They must have gotten by the shields, how many do you reckon are down there?' Rose calls back and switches out her hands to rest her left eye next. She inhales and attempts to see if there are any other potential angels resting in the snow mounds. She can't see anything but that doesn't mean they aren't there.

'There are too many to tell, we're circling them, but they're closing in!' The Doctor answers loudly and Clara lets out a small sound of defeat.

'I can't! I can't see, snow's in my eyes.'

'Rose you need to join us somehow. I'm calling the TARDIS down.' The Doctor informs her and Rose inhales. If she continues backwards surely she must find the hill and she can roll down it, because if she turns her back then the angel or angels will attack. God knows where she'll end up. And she without her supplies to carve her way back.

'You said you couldn't call the TARDIS remotely.' Clara is heard protesting and Rose reaches up to her neck to grab the chain where her key is located.

'No, but it can home in on the key.' The Doctor replies and Rose takes a few more steps back.

'Do you need mine?' Rose calls and nearly has it over her head but she blinks by accident as she removes it. When she realises what she's done she gasps and shifts her gaze immediately back to the angel. It's emerged all the way up to its waist. That was fast.

'No! I have another one.'

Rose frowns when Clara gasps and Rose has finally had it, she takes a few more steps back before turning around completely and sprinting in the same direction the Doctor and Clara were in before they tumbled down. Problem is the whole ground appears to be level because of the snow falling, it doesn't bother her, she just keeps running towards the Doctor's voice beckoning her. At the last moment her foot hits nothing but air and as she falls forward she can feel the cold stone fingers of the angel reach out to either grip her neck or her hair, it doesn't matter, her hair slides through the angel's fingers, the potential to tear out a chunk and Rose tumbles down the slope to land at Clara and the Doctor's feet.

By the time she flips herself around as the TARDIS begins to materialise around them - she's never seen that many Weeping Angels in one place before, her heart skipped a beat. But it isn't the sight of the TARDIS, as relieving as it is; it's the Doctor's apparent lack of hair. Clara is staring at him, mouth a gape while Rose is still on her knees staring blankly. What she's seeing, simply isn't registering. What, he get bored one night? It almost makes root her fingers in her own hair; just to make sure, perhaps tug on it a few times.

If he notices their stunned expressions, the Doctor says nothing, instead merely smiling at his own genius. He waves the key in the air in front of them. Rose shifts her gaze to Clara who holds it, begging the question as to who will answer first? What do they even say to this? What's the best reaction? Is there one?

'The old key in the quiff routine,' The Doctor declares and sets the wig on top of Handles, walking around the control panel. It unnerves Rose, she isn't sure why. Clara begins to slowly crinkle her nose. 'Okay, homing in on the mysterious message. Ooh, yes, I like that, the mysterious message.'

'Doctor…' Rose begins but the quick pace in while he moves around the controls still stun her to silence. Rose can't finish her thought, so Clara does for her.

'You've shaved your head?' Clara questions plainly and Rose wonders where and when exactly he had the time to do this. Oh, then again she had been gone for some time. Still the length of time she'd been gone…it didn't seem as though he'd collapse into boredom without her.

'Yup. Clever plan to get us past the shield.' The Doctor declares and Rose folds her arms, Clara shakes her head at his attempt to deflect her question, or what they're both thinking.

Clara arches her eyebrow challenging him. 'You got bored one night, didn't you?'

'Oh, god, did you?' Rose echoes and the Doctor looks away from them.

'Yeah, tiny bit bored.' He admits sheepishly and Rose folds her arms. Now he's gotten her curious. How could she be so blind not to notice?

'How long?' She questions and the Doctor shrugs.

'Not as long as you think,' He replies instantly and it makes her feel somewhat better that she isn't as blind as she perceived herself to be or as unobservant, either. She motions for him to carry on. 'Right, setting us down, near the signal source. I'm going to turn the engines on silent, don't want to make a fuss.'

Just as Rose is beginning accept the fact she'll have to get used to his…lack of hair, Clara rushes around her and snatches the wig off of Handles and tosses it to the Doctor who catches it with surprise. He frowns.

'Put it back on.' She instructs firmly and the Doctor is about to but pauses in his motions and gives her a sceptical look.

'Why?' He demands and Clara points to his ears.

'Your ears are like rocket fins.' She replies and the Doctor nods his head.

'I know!' He answers and flips a switch on the console.

Clara takes a moment to dash up the stairs to run into the halls, shouting not to leave without her; she just wants to get something warmer on. Rose sees her point and so she holds up one finger while she ascends the stairs too, he may have no problem but she does. And she doesn't like the prospect of unravelling a mystery in the nude. She returns before Clara does, dressed in her go to uniform. Cargo pants and her black shirt, but she's added a jacket. It had been rather cold out. Clara joins them merely moments after Rose has begun to walk towards the TARDIS doors.

Rose watches him fix the wig a few times while the TARDIS shakes to indicate their arrival. She isn't sure what she expects when she finds herself standing at the door waiting for the others to join her. She mouth Clara a small thanks for fixing the situation. She smiles back in response.

Rose gingerly pushes open the door when the TARDIS finally ceases its shaking and when the door reveals a simplistic looking street she lets her guard down, but only by a little. She steps out following the Doctor and Clara and the snowy street is lined with lit trees, full and large with flakes of snow and warm braziers with smouldering fires. What kind of place is this? Clara and the Doctor have wandered quite a ways from her while she continues to study the landscape wondering why she continues to feel on edge. Clara is marvelling at the wonders of this little village while harbouring no ill will. The Doctor is looking around at things but there isn't the reservation in his eyes that she has.

'Oh, it's good to be wearing clothes again. That's so much better, don't you think?' Clara wonders to the Doctor and he has lifted the sonic into the air so that he can begin scanning their surroundings.

'Now, what do we make of this place? It's two o'clock in the afternoon…'

'Days must be in real short supply.' Rose comments from her spot by a brazier to warm her hands and the Doctor nods his head, turning in a small circle before he points to the town's clock tower.

'The message is coming from that tower,' The Doctor explains and when he notices another couple strolling down the snowy road he rushes towards them, Rose follows and Clara does the same. 'Hello! Hello, there! He calls and then turns to Rose and Clara. 'We're all travelling from the next town. My name's probably Hank or Rock, something like that.'

'Or Daisy?' Clara suddenly chimes in and Rose frowns at them but still feels the need to add to Clara's statement, jokingly of course.

'Maybe Claire?' She adds and the Doctor gives them a look of silence and points to them.

'Shut up, you two,' The Doctor instructs and Rose and Clara exchange looks while the Doctor turns back to the couple and extends his hand. 'Hello, good to meet you, nice snow.'

The man gives the Doctor a wide grin and grips his hand tightly. 'Most pleasant to meet you too.'

The woman beside him nods her head in complete agreement, giving the trio a warm smile and tight handshake. Rose tilts her head…something about them is…off. 'Most pleasant, most pleasant.'

'I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I stole a time machine and ran away and I've been flouting the principal law of my own people ever since,' The Doctor widens his eyes when he realises what he's just said and Rose and Clara are both gaping at him. He shakes his head vigorously. 'That wasn't quite what I meant to say!'

Clara is about to jump in and save his lie to this couple when her mouth begins speaking words before her head can register them. And they aren't good. 'I'm an English teacher from planet Earth, and I've run off with a man from space because I really fancy…' Clara covers her mouth to stop herself from speaking and Rose gives them a frown. What the hell was that? She's about to ask them what they were thinking revealing all of that personal information when her brain begins to go into autopilot and she can't stop herself.

'I go by Rose, most of the time, and I'm a freelancer from the planet Earth involved in certain fields that many people don't know about. The Doctor - my partner in every sense of the word - and I have been in a fight for some time and I was reluctant to come back because he didn't understand my relationship with my lover whom I had just been to see and whom I just slept with. And that made me mad, see because my lover was…' Rose forces herself to silence by doing as Clara did and covering her mouth with her hand. Her face goes bright red and her eyes as wide as saucers. She feels the fifty shades of shame burn deeper as all eyes are on her.

The woman gives them an understanding smile and watches the mortified expressions on each of the trio's faces. 'I think, perhaps, you all should stop talking till you get used to it.'

The Doctor is cautious as he replies to the woman's statement. 'Used to what?'

The woman frowns again, ignoring his question and looking at Clara and Rose carefully, both their hands clasped tightly across their mouths. The blonde is crimson shade; not looking at anyone when an odd thought strikes her.

'What did you say your names were?' She inquires and without a missed beat, Clara has removed her hand and answered the woman's question confidently.

'Bubbly personality making bossy control freak.' Clara widens her eyes and gasps, clasping her hand tightly back to her mouth. The woman turns to Rose waiting for an answering and Rose finds that she is unable to stop her mind from lowering her hand so she can answer the question.

'Serious exterior, open minded that sees the best in everyone who won't give up. Possibly scary to those who haven't seen me in awhile.' Rose answers and she widens her eyes.

'She also fancies criminals as much as I fancy wigs, cause I'm wearing one right now!' The Doctor interjects and points to his head. Rose feels her face getting hot as she glares at the Doctor; he's shaking his head in disbelief and apology. 'No, ah, I see,' He replies behind his hand and carefully removes it from his mouth. 'Yes, of course. It's a truth field. Oh, that is so quaint. I haven't seen a truth field in years! I'm wearing a wig!' He reiterates and Rose closes her eyes. So much for keeping things under wraps. The moment a question is asked of any of them they are unable to lie. Oh, she just has a feeling this isn't going to go over well.

'No one can lie in this town. Especially this close to the tower.' The man explains and Rose, with her hand still to her mouth, turns around to see the tower in question. This close and this is the reaction? Is the shield located in there? Rose turns back to see the couple has begun to continue on their walk, not saying any more to them.

The Doctor glances to the tower and then back to the couple. 'Doesn't that make life a bit difficult.'

They answer simultaneously.

'Not at all.' Says the woman.

'Yes.' Says the man. The couple exchange looks with one another.

'Excuse me, but what is this town called?' Rose calls to them and the man smiles at her.

'It's Christmas.' He replies with a cheerful smile and Rose doesn't answer him, she has an incredulous look on her face.

The Doctor glances at his sonic and shakes his head. 'It's July.' He double-checks and the sonic once more and shrugs.

'No, the town,' The woman clarifies and Rose glances around the snowy town. She supposes it suits it, but does that mean it's cold and snowy year round? 'The town is Christmas, that's what it's called.'

The man gives them a nod and the woman links her arm with his and they continue on their way. The man turns back to them and grips the brim of his hat in acknowledgement. 'Be happy here. Be well.' He calls and Clara joins the Doctor as they continue to stare at the couple.

'How can a town be called Christmas?' Clara wonders and Rose hasn't taken her eyes off from the church and the tower. Why does she suddenly feel as though she's being beckoned there? What's lurking in there?

'I don't know, how can an island be called Easter? Maybe it's just nice here. I almost hate to find out what's wrong,' The Doctor's voice almost has a sigh to it and when he notices that Rose isn't by his side either, he turns around in a small circle and he sees her still staring at the tower. 'Rose? Everything okay?'

She turns around and shrugs. 'There's something…in there.'

Rose says no more and heads towards the tower. The Doctor and Clara tilt their heads at her strange behaviour however they follow her tracks in the snow. She beats them to the door first and opens it with a bit of a struggle before she disappears into the darkness that spills out and on to the stoop.

'What do you think is in there?' Clara questions and the Doctor pulls the door open a little bit more so that both he and Clara can enter together. That's a good question. What do they even begin to anticipate? Is it worse than he could ever imagine? Or is it slightly more reassuring? Something is going to happen; the problem is what and how big could it be?

'I don't know,' The Doctor admits and holds his breath as he and Clara enter the church. 'Rose?'

There is no sign of Rose in the front foyer but a small sound that they hear below them leads them to a small staircase that leads to the basement. As the Doctor descends, he vaguely hears Clara behind him but his eyes are on Rose. She's staring at something on the one wall. He widens his eyes as he sees it. Something that's been following him everywhere he seemed to go and the reason that brought her back to this universe.

Rose reaches down for his hand when he stops beside her and they lace their fingers. She turns to him with wide eyes and presses her lips together. As if she can't believe this is the unknown they now face. She exhales slowly and grips his hand tighter.

'How? How can this be? I thought…you fixed it.'

The Doctor simply shakes his head with a small smile on his face. 'What took you so long?' He pauses and glances down to Rose. He wants to embrace her and tell her not to be fearful or worry but…it isn't something he can do.

Clara watches them stare at the crack in the wall and she finds herself confused about what she's looking at. A crack. There's nothing more to a crack in the wall, is there? 'What's wrong? It's only a crack in the wall.'

They are silent for some time before the Doctor releases his hand from Rose's and heads towards the crack, as if to inspect it further. He removes his jacket. 'I knew. I always knew it wasn't over.'

'But why were there no signs until now?' Rose questions desperately and Clara frowns. She's obviously missing some context.

'What is it?' Since they don't feel the need to explain this to her then she figures she'd better ask.

'A split in the skin of reality,' The Doctor breathes and Rose bites the corner of her lip. She approaches cautiously, something is calling to her. 'A tiny sliver of the 26th of June 2010. The day the universe blew up.'

'The day I watched from afar…' Rose doesn't finish her thoughts, thinking back to the man they captured and the religious cult they believed he was a part of. Clara's eyes dart between them, isn't that nonsense? It has to be.

'Missed that!' Clara insists but it doesn't change either of their facades. The mood continues to dampen. They each are lost in their own thoughts, but the Doctor answers her before she has to elaborate further or as a follow up question.

'I rebooted it, put it all back together.' The Doctor answers finally and Clara closes her eyes in relief. She smiles slightly. Rose gets a bit closer to the crack. The voices she hears…she's heard them before.

'That's good.' Clara replies but she is surprised as to how uncertain her voice sounds when she said that. But still the Doctor doesn't look relieved or reassured. Did he reboot it incorrectly? How would he know he did it right? Well, if he did then the crack wouldn't be staring at him. Clara notices that Rose is staring at it carefully, nearly in a trance like state.

'I hear you…' Rose whispers but it is heard by no one. Clara watches the Doctor walk towards the centre of the room attempting to work though what this all means.

'It was my TARDIS that blew it up in the first place. I felt a degree of responsibility. It's the reason Rose came back in the first place. Her universe was ahead, she came to warn me…but it was too late. The scar tissue remains,' He pauses and walks back to the wall, noticing that Rose is pressing her hand to the wall and staring deeply. 'A structural weakness in the whole universe. Whoa!' He exclaims and steps back as though he's just been shocked. Clara can see that he's connected something. Trouble is she doesn't know what.

Rose continues to listen to the voices whispering in her ear, so many of them, talking over one another. It is impossible to make out the words. She exhales, watching the small golden particles float out from the crack and she wonders if the others can see them as well, so she reaches out to touch them and the moment she does she can feel the power of the Vortex through her. She doesn't know if she's imagining it or if it is all too real but in the moment she feels herself. The fierce golden eyes leave her as she exhales. The whispers are gone. Things are normal. But she comes away with a stunning realisation. Oldest question…

'I know you're there…' Rose whispers to the crack but she can hear no response. She becomes frustrated. She straightens up. She wants them to tell her she's wrong.

'And someone's trying to get through it, from our universe, from somewhere else,' The Doctor notices that Rose has taken a step back so he presses his ear to the wall to see if he can hear something. It says nothing but another realisation hits him. He turns to Rose. 'Of course, of course. It makes sense.'

'I know, how could we have missed it?' Rose breathes and Clara presses her lips together. She must have missed something.

'What makes sense?'

'Yes, if you tried to break through a wall, you'd choose the weakest spot. To break into the universe, you'd choose this crack because…' But he pauses when he notices that Rose is shaking her head at him. 'What are you shaking your head for?'

'Think about it. You're trying to break back into this universe. It's Gallifrey.' Rose responds insistently and the Doctor is already rushing to pick up Handles.

'You said Gallifrey,' The Doctor states and holds Handles at eye level. 'Why did you say Gallifrey?'

Without missing a beat Handles responds to the query. 'Analysis of message composition indicates Gallifreyan origin, according to TARDIS data banks.'

Rose wants to tell them that she heard something through there however since she herself is unsure if what she experienced was real, and she hates to doubt herself. She debates it for some time, worried that she is seeing things she wants desperately to make sense of.

'You said Gallifrey was gone.' Clara replies and the Doctor is shaking his head at her. So she folds her arms, not understanding.

'No. I said it was in another universe. The message is coming through here. The truth field is too, at a guess. If it's the Time Lords…if it's the Time Lords…' The Doctor repeats and presses his hand to the wall, Rose stands behind him.

'I heard them…I know what the message is…' She breathes and the Doctor whips around, widening his eyes. He doesn't answer as the tone begins to resonate again. He stares at Rose as she continues to stare into the crack, and whatever…though he knows what lies beyond that crack, doesn't he?

'The message…on a infinite loop…' Rose whispers and watches the Doctor take something from his pocket and affix it to Handles when he begins to accept the fact that Rose could hear it. She's still connected on some level, how deep he's rather afraid to know.

'Seal of High Council of Gallifrey, nicked it off the Master in the Death Zone,' He adds when he sees Rose staring at him with a confused gaze. Clara peers around the Doctor to admire the seal. 'There is an algorithm imprinted in the atomic structure. Use it to decode the message.' The Doctor instructs and waits; he doesn't miss the fact that Rose is staring at the crack again, pressing her hand to the wall.

'Message decoding. Message analysis proceeding. Information available. The message is a request for information.' Handles explains and the Doctor rolls his eyes at him.

'Answer it…it's what they want…' Rose tilts her head at the crack and her demand is missed by them as the Doctor angrily replies to what Handles has just informed them of.

'It's a question. Why can't you just say it's a question!' The Doctor states angrily but of course there is no answer from Handles. Clara begins to notice that Rose is still staring at the crack. She frowns.

'It is being projected throughout all of time and space on a repeating cycle.' Handles states firmly and Rose turns to them.

'All of space and time. Answer it. Answer the oldest question in the universe.' Rose commands and the Doctor shakes his head, his eyes wide. How could she hear it, how could she know?!

'Hidden in plain sight…' He adds, trailing off and Clara's glaze darts from the Doctor to Rose. Handles offers another admonition.

'Warning – translation will be available to all life forms in range. Translation follows. Doctor who…Doctor who…Doctor who…'

Rose watches the Doctor lean against the wall in disbelief. She knows what this means, and she is certain that he knows as well. The consequences of answering that question, and who will be returning should he give in.

'It's a question few know the answer to.' Rose says quietly and the Doctor glances up to the ceiling of the church. So man steps taken to get him here and even more put into place to ensure that he would be unable to get out of it. Has everything really been leading up to this moment?

'A truth field to make sure I don't lie. If I give my name, they'll know they've found the right place…and that it's safe to come through.' The Doctor replies and Rose closes her eyes.

'Will it be hell?' She questions softly. He turns to her. She already knows his response.

'Yes.'

'Who will come through? The Time Lords?' Clara receives no response but takes their collective silence as confirmation. 'Okay, so what then? If you answer the question, and they come back, what happens?' Clara wonders seriously and doesn't understand how that could be so bad. Doesn't he want to be reunited with his people?

But the way he and Rose are exchanging looks it seems bad. He's got muted horror written all over his face and she is a blank slate. Clara had no idea what Rose is experiencing, she seems to be focusing entirely on him. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a cylinder, pressing it into Rose's hands. She frowns and studies. Clara has no idea what it could possibly be; hopefully it contains a plan to help them out of this situation.

'Rose, I need you to take this to the TARDIS. Put it into the charger slot I use for the sonic. Clara go with her, something will happen to the console on the second level, I need you to be Rose's eyes. I need to prepare her.' The Doctor explains and Rose examines the cylinder carefully. If this is his idea of a plan then of course she'll help him. Clara seems reluctant to leave, even after Rose walks past her without saying anything. Only to pause at the base of the stairs when she notices that Clara is not with her.

'Clara?' Rose calls but Clara hasn't taken her eyes off the Doctor, she wants a better explanation and someone who doesn't blindly follow his orders. She wants to know what is going to happen.

'Why?' Clara demands and the Doctor stares at her before conceding in her demand of him. He runs his hand through his hair.

'Hell. All hell, that's what happens if the Time Lords come back. There's half a universe up there ready, waiting to open fire. Now, please, go with Rose to the TARDIS, just do as I say!' He begs loudly and Clara widens her eyes at his demanding tone and curtly nods her head before turning on her heel and rushing after Rose who has already run up the stairs. He waits for a few more moments contemplating what he will have to do once they've safely been removed.

He wished he would have kissed Rose one last time, even held her hand tightly in his, something. Anything. She blindly believed that what he had asked her to do was going to benefit them. He'd done that once before to her and she came roaring back to save his life. What he had just done would prevent that. One last kiss. Sure he'd been upset about her revelation earlier that she had actually been to Havana to see her paramour earlier. That criminal, whose name he still can't bring himself to say, had had her to himself. And yet, strangely, the thought of the two of them together physically didn't bring him to the brink of anger as it had earlier when he first discovered her dirty little secret. Why is that? Bigger things on his mind, perhaps? There isn't much he can do to change things now, he's sending her away and she may just find comfort in the arms of another man, that criminal's. What can he do? He just wanted to take with him a small memory or memento of her with him. Her name alone will have to be the only thing that keeps him fighting, just as it had every other time he needed to draw upon her strength in times of need.

'Doctor, speak with me.'

This is one of those times her name flares in his mind. Tasha has been inadvertently informed. He must face her and this mess. And he will do so without fear. He pushes himself off the wall, forgetting for a moment the crack that has festered throughout his time in this regeneration to reach for his jacket, slipping it on and exhales. He repeats her name in his mind and strides determinedly from the room. He will face her from the belfry that he begins to ascend the stairs.

'Doctor! Face me now!' Tasha's voice booms around him and he's certain that her presence has garnered the attention of the townspeople. He hopes Rose and Clara have made it aboard the TARDIS.

The twisting stairs continue to climb and he grips the railing, the dread is continuing to build within him. He knows what he has to do but wants to confirm it from Tasha. He wants to be proven wrong but he doesn't have that kind of luck, does he? He inhales one more time before stepping on the last stair to the landing. He holds his head up and walks out onto the belfry. The cold air drives itself into his face and he inhales sharply, the frigid air bites his lungs.

Tasha's angry face is on display in the inky sky. A small crowd of the townspeople have gathered around to see what the commotion is. When Tasha spots him on the belfry she steels her look and glares at him.

'Doctor!'

'Mother Superious, there is only one thing I need from you - this planet…what's it called?'

Tasha pauses briefly before answering. 'Trenzalore,' She confirms. The Doctor is stunned at her answer and he glances away from her. The answer he expected and yet he is still shocked by it. 'If you speak your name, the Time Lords will return.'

'If they return, they will come in peace.' The Doctor replies but Tasha shakes her head curtly.

'It doesn't matter. They will be met with a war that will never end. The Time War will begin anew!' Tasha exclaims and the Doctor looks away knowing she is right. That's the worst part. Tasha grows impatient with his lack of response. 'You know that, Doctor!'

He stares into the sky. He hopes that Rose and Clara have made it. The TARDIS is gone. He closes his eyes. Here's to their new lives.

Rose leans over the edge of the railings to call to see if Clara notices a chance in the console beneath her. She has no idea what the cylinder will do, if anything but if it needs a charge before he uses it to call a bluff then she will do what she can to help him do so. Clara calls to her that something is definitely happening, soon there is a metallic humming all around them, what could possibly be happening? Strange as well, the cylinder doesn't actually eject from the spot Rose had put it into, but it doesn't matter, she needs to get back and help him with whatever will happen, should he answer the question and bring back the Time Lords or not. Will they be preventing war?

She heard them, they sounded so desperate to come back, but desperation didn't appear to give way to violent rage…but they had deceived her before. What will they do? So much is still unknown to her. Clara comes dashing up the stairs and nods curtly at Rose, breaking her concentration.

'Come on!' Clara runs towards the door and Rose sprints after her, not paying attention to her surroundings when she rushes out of the TARDIS into bright sunshine and Clara staring at the exterior of her block. Rose widens her eyes, that bastard!

She whips around when she begins to hear the TARDIS dematerialise and Rose runs as fast as she can to catch up before the TARDIS vanishes completely and they are utterly trapped there. Clara is not far behind.

'No! Don't you dare, not without us!' Rose shouts angrily and runs as fast as she can, calling Clara desperately, while she fishes around for her key around her neck, Rose holds out her hand to Clara.

Clara grasps Rose's hand the moment Rose's other hand manages to grip the door handle to the TARDIS. The ride through the Vortex is going to be stressful, how does she know the TARDIS is even going to return to him and not disappear to land on some foreign rock, only to decay to the ravages of time?

Clara lets out a scream of terror. Rose squeezes her eyes shut at the thought. No, long after them…the TARDIS will always go back to him. She hopes it's one of those times as the air drives itself from her lungs. She tries to inhale but it comes out strained.

It's only the beginning.

Silence will fall. Silence will fall.

Those words uttered a lifetime ago, he forgets any other life he may have lived, but he has never forgotten her. How long has it been? Perhaps if he truly sat down to figure it out he'd come up with a number but this life, this constant defending of Trenzalore from the enemies of the universe keep him busy. The people living here need him to keep them safe and so he has, from the moment he sent Rose and Clara away. He's all but given up the notion of ever seeing the TARDIS again, how long does it take to drop someone off on Earth and come right back, did she get lost somewhere? Take a wrong turn, what?

What does it matter now, anyway? Trenzalore is as much his home as everyone else's. He's gotten to know everyone here, generations after generations; these people have embraced him as though he was one of their own. How wonderful it felt to be accepted as part of their families, each and every one. He continues to walk down the snowy path to a small cleared path of trees, thoughts running rampant. Each of their victories had been celebrated. He did wish to bring this violence to an end, how much longer could these people endure lifetime upon lifetime of battles? He sighs when he reaches the man who holds up his hand at the sight of the Doctor. It's another Christmas time, another year gone. They've melted away so quickly, year after year. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the one thing he's had of her that keeps the small smile on his face when he needs it the most, when his mind drifts to how she's doing, again hopefully not resenting him and hopefully not running into the arms of someone else for comfort. That supposed haunted house, when he surprised her with the camera and she had stuck her tongue out. Her goofy reaction…he misses her. There have been some times during the centuries where her agile and nimble self would have been helpful, her insightfulness and strength were things he always drew upon when he had depleted his own reserves.

The man walks over to the Doctor and smiles at him. The Doctor motions over the distance, far from where they are standing. 'How's your father's barn?'

The man grins from ear to ear. 'You fixed the leak all right, but he said it's bigger on the inside now!'

The Doctor bends over slightly to hush Barnable's voice by pressing a finger to his lips. 'Ssh! They'll all want one!' He insists with a wink and then frowns when he hears a familiar sound erupting behind him. It can't be. It's been centuries! Why now?!

Barnable turns slightly trying to ascertain where the noise is coming from. He can see nothing and so turns to the Doctor. 'What is it? What's that noise?'

Slowly the outline of the TARDIS begins to form and then fade before appearing stronger each time. She's materialising. The Doctor walks angrily over to the spot where the TARDIS will land. 'Well! Where have you been for three hundred years! Huh?!'

Barnable walks cautiously towards the Doctor who is standing in the clearing and holding his arms out to the side. 'What's that?'

'It's my ship.' The Doctor replies and waits patiently for the TARDIS to finish materialising. What in the world took so long for her to come back? Barnable watches the strange box appear and vanish slightly multiple times. Thinking the Doctor misspoke, Barnable turns to him.

'Your what?'

The Doctor continues to stare ahead, waiting for the process to finish before answering Barnable. 'It's my TARDIS. That's how I got here in the first place.'

Something strikes Barnable suddenly and he looks down to the snowy footprints that lead the own closer and closer to the box. 'Does this mean you're leaving?'

The Doctor doesn't answer him, doesn't even look back. But he did pause slightly in his step, it would hardly be noticeable to anyone but he had felt himself pause. It is a fair question. What would he do? There are lots of thoughts that run through his mind. However he does know that something with this place isn't going to let him leave. That and of course he still has work to do, this is not a safe place yet. There is a good chance that he will spend the remaining years he has here, defending it with everything he has.

An outline of someone familiar shocks him and he stops dead in his tracks. No, he doesn't want to believe this is real. It can't be. He is unable to look away. He stares in disbelief at his TARDIS that has just returned, firmly landed with two passengers who continue to cling to the doors with whitened knuckles. He can't even call their names; the words are lost in his throat as are all thoughts and actions. Rose moves first, breathing heavily, she turns over her shoulder and widens her eyes when they make eye contact. Instantaneously she narrows her eyes and pries her hands off of the TARDIS while Clara remains frozen, clinging on for life with her eyes squeezed firmly shut believing firmly that it isn't over yet. Rose stumbles as she moves towards him, swaying to one side as she attempts to stay serious despite her inability to keep herself balanced. No doubt the travel through the Vortex is still causing her to get herself sorted. He can't move, he continues to watch her stomp angrily towards him and before he gets a chance to react to her being there in front of him, or inquiring as to what happened, she's slapped him and he recoils from the sting. Even Barnable felt that one.

'Rose!' He calls in disbelief and cradles his still stinging cheek. She glares at him with an anger he's never seen in her eyes before.

'You are so lucky that was open and not closed fisted, how dare you!' She yells at him and still feels the pull of the Vortex travel as her body fights to return itself to normal. She doesn't see that he's gotten older, how he's changed, hardened by his time here and how long he's been at war, how frequent he's battled to keep those on this planet safe, she doesn't even know how long it's been, her mind is stuck on the one thing she believed he'd never do to her. And that was leaving her behind or sending her away. Because he swore to her a long time ago that he wouldn't, and he broke his promise.

'I did it to keep you safe!' He protests desperately and Rose scoffs at him, having heard that excuse before, however he will not let her antics cloud his judgement. He knows he's done the right thing; she just doesn't want to admit it. 'Do you know how long it's been? I do! And I would not let the years slip away from you like that!'

'And I would not have you do this alone! You and me, that's how it's supposed to be…you don't put me somewhere because it could get dangerous, you know that's not how I roll…' Rose finishes desperately, softly, and she embraces him tightly, wrapping her arms around his neck, using her arms to hold him firmly in her grasp. He embraces her just as fiercely, longing for this moment for centuries. The scent of her, that vanilla aroma to her, is something he's longed for; it comforts him and sets him at ease.

'I had to this time…' He begins and closes his eyes when she places the softest kiss on his mouth. 'If I hadn't…do you know where you'd be right now?' He wonders desperately, Rose doesn't answer him because he knows she knows but he needs to drive the point home. 'You'd be…'

A small uncertain sound causes the Doctor to look up to the TARDIS again to see Clara attempting to move. Rose turns over her shoulder as well and reluctantly releases him from her grasp. However she decides she isn't done with him yet and quickly places another kiss on him and he holds her tightly, keeping her close as she tries to pull away. He had centuries to think about their disagreement from Valentine's Day in 1941, it's what started the whole thing. Over something she chose to do. It was her life. He guesses in the time they've been a part he realises that, doesn't mean he agrees with her…doesn't mean he isn't still stunned and surprised, he did as she asked and attempted to see things from her perspective. He tried his best and decided the best course of action was to allow it to fall to the wayside. It isn't as though they'll be revisiting this any time soon. Hopefully.

Seamlessly as Clara turns around, the Doctor releases Rose and she smoothes down her shirt, swallowing a lump in her throat. Clara uneasily removes herself from the TARDIS while Rose takes another careful look around. Everything appears to be the same as it had been when she left. It feels as though she's been gone for seconds but she knows it's been longer than that. The air is different now. No long thick with uncertainty and mystery. He's changed the feel of this planet. She smiles at his accomplishment and how Clara is glaring daggers at him. She doesn't even know how long it's been, centuries would be her first guess because he's aged. Their clinging to the TARDIS must have severely hampered her ability to travel through the Vortex with fluidity.

She could have helped him if he let her. She wouldn't have cared if she died here, she would have been helping him until she could do so no longer. It burns her that he sent her away, whatever his reasons of protecting her, sparing her a life of constant warfare, it didn't matter. It was not his decision to make.

'I'm furious with you!' The Doctor shouts angrily at Clara and it shifts Rose's thought from her own anger to their fight. Clara stops her foot, balls her fists and leans in towards him while she angrily yells back at him.

'Well, I am not even speaking to you!'

Rose fears she'll have to referee before the two of them erupt into laughter and hug one another tightly. She smiles slightly while they do so. There is so much she wants to know and ask. The Doctor directs Clara back down to the path that will lead them into the town. He motions to Rose to join him and she silently goes to him while Clara, ahead of them continues on a path towards the church, surrounded by the townspeople, chatting her up and she gladly reciprocates.

The Doctor reaches for her hand and grips it tightly. Rose turns to him and gives him a sad smile, wanting to inquire as to how he sustained the injury but figuring it didn't matter now. There was nothing to be done to fix it. So she decides to speak her mind. When has she ever held herself back?

'What were you thinking? You didn't even say goodbye.' Rose questions and fixates her gaze to the sky, wondering what will happen now that she's back. How long will she fight for before her end comes?

The Doctor smiles ironically. 'If I had told you the truth, would you have listened?'

'Of course not.'

'I spent years of my life fighting an all out war, it changes you. Right down to your core. It consumes you. You wake up ready to fight and you go to sleep already thinking about the dawn's fights. Imagine yourself doing that for years. I did. I had to send you away. Whether you agree with me or not, it doesn't matter. What I did, I did for you and Clara. I would not have you both buried in the earth of this planet, to walk by your graves every day, thinking of the ways in which I had failed you both. The sadness would hurt more than anything I know,' He pauses and Rose is staring at him with glassy eyes. She knows he's right. But she's just too damn stubborn to admit it. 'I already lost you once, I didn't want to lose you again,' He states. Rose doesn't answer him and when she tries to, words fail. 'You know I'm right. I'm never wrong. Rarely wrong.'

'It doesn't matter. I'm here now. Taking over this town…they should worry. We won't run.' Rose decides and the Doctor is watching Clara from afar, still talking to the children who must be asking all sorts of questions because she's unable to focus on just one person in particular. They stop just before joining her and the Doctor looks down to her, a small smile, barely visible is evident.

'We won't run. I've taught you well.' The Doctor agrees and he notices that Clara has begun to shake from the cold. He gives Rose's hand an extra squeeze and she follows his gaze to Clara, shaking. She nods and releases his hand where he carefully, albeit carefully nursing that injury to his leg as he heads towards Clara. Rose lingers. Closing her eyes before she inhales and opens them, lifting them to the sky.

In the winter night sky the ships are hovering, waiting, looking down on the lights from the town, illuminating and acting as a target. They won't wait forever. But that's their problem. She's here. They're here to stay. She will stay. Even if those howling ghosts…they reappear. She will battle them back.

Though far away, we're still same.

Rose descends the stairs to the church basement to see it once a source of fear and terror felt by she and him has become transformed into a cosy little place to rest one's head and removed from the world to get a sense of peace. Clara has bundled herself into a blanket, her shivering ceased and together while she wanders and Rose walks to the Doctor, the admire the drawings that the children of this town have given him. Some faded from the ravages of time, some new and some are in between. Though the little basement has a hearty warmth and glow to it, Rose feels cold, and is unsure as to why. Maybe it's because the crack is still on the wall, evident, is asks the question that blows a cold wind into her soul. She can still hear them, whispering and asking, begging and pleading, shouting and demanding. Has he had to put up with this for centuries, an unquiet whisper that could drive one to the brink of madness?

She pauses in her thoughts when she sees that Handles is propped up on a wooden desk that is covered with all kinds of gadgets and children's toys. She bites the corner of her lip and a defeated smile comes across her face. Clara notices what Rose has been staring at she turns over to the doorway where the Doctor had disappeared.

'Oh, Doctor, fixing toys and fighting monsters.' Clara comments and it hurts Rose further that she had been sent away. With him, she could have at least helped. In some capacity. She doesn't let the tears fall as the Doctor enters; she swallows the tight lump in her throat.

'The turkey isn't don't yet.' He informs them and Rose tilts her head, forgetting for a moment what turkey he'd been referring to. Then of course she recalls. She watches him set the pan down on the desk. He catches her staring at him and she motions to the crack in the wall. He gives her a slight shrug.

'Has it ever been quiet for you?' Rose wonders sadly. The Doctor shakes his head and Clara finds herself staring at the ground.

'It has never stopped asking that question,' He reveals and Rose looks away shaking her head. She's a mind to go over to it and yell at them to shut their mouths. 'Come upstairs, it's almost time.' The Doctor walks to where Handles is on the desk and scoops him up and begins to walk towards the staircase that leads to the belfry.

Rose and Clara stare at one another. 'What for?' Clara asks and begins to follow him.

Rose takes one final look at the crack before trotting to catch up to the others.

'Dawn,' The Doctor leans over the rails to stare at Rose and Clara making their way up. 'The light here lasts only a few minutes, you don't want to miss it.'

They don't need to be told twice. Rose begins skipping stairs until she catches up to Clara and they enter the belfry where the Doctor is starting a small fire. Clara takes a seat in front of it and Rose sits across from her. The Doctor slowly sits besides her and given their positions, they are able to interlock their fingers, the fire keeping their actions a secret from Clara. Handles is placed just to the Doctor's left side. Things are quiet for some time before the Doctor motions to the marshmallows off to the side and Clara takes one, slowly toasting it. Rose finds she doesn't have much of an appetite. Go figure.

'What's been happening, in all these centuries that has passed? Has anyone touched down?' Rose wonders and looks over her shoulder to the town below. They must have, curiosity must have gotten the best of them.

'Of course. I drove them back. But it's a standoff. They can't attack in case I unleash the Time Lords. And I can't run away, because they'll burn this planet to stop the Time Lords,' The Doctor looks away and then moves to collect Handles, holding it out in front of him, he frowns and takes a handkerchief out and licks it, gently wiping Handles. He notices Rose's defeated expression and he shrugs. 'Hey, after all these years, I've finally found somewhere that needs me to stick around. A town called Christmas! Could've been worse. Right, there you go, buddy,' The Doctor adjusts Handles. 'Comfy?'

'Comfort is irrelevant.' Handles replies and the Doctor attempts another angle.

'How's that, is that better?'

'Affirmative.'

Rose can't help but smile as she watches the Doctor clean Handles off a bit more.

'You just take it easy, buddy,' The Doctor picks up Handles and gives him a close once over. He notices Rose staring at him with an apathetic look in her eyes. 'He's getting old. I do my best for him, but…I just can't get the parts, you know? Hey, I know the feeling.'

Clara stares at the marshmallow, turning the stick slowly in her hands. 'Where do you get these?'

'I have a supplier. The pink ones are the best,' He takes a bite of one and offers Rose one as well. She shakes her head and pushes his hand away. 'What?'

'I'm not hungry.' Rose replies and the Doctor gives her a look.

'You're never hungry.' He comments and Rose folds her arms while she rolls her eyes. She isn't apologising for her worry and anxiety taking over and diminishing her appetite. Things aren't normal. So she can't be normal. She can't pretend.

'I have developed a fault.' Handle's announcement draws the attention from everyone. The Doctor frowns before attempting to rouse some spirit left in the old head. Rose stares at her hands, fearing what is coming next.

'Hey, don't you worry, 'Andles, you're just dreaming. The sun's coming up very soon, you just hang on in there.' The Doctor informs him but feels Rose put her hand on his arm. She knows what is happening, he refuses to accept it.

'I have developed a…fault. I…I have developed a fault.' Handles informs them with a more urgent tone to his voice. Clara looks away.

The Doctor picks up Handles to hold him at eye level. 'Hey, Handles. Come on. Come on. One more dawn, you can do it. You've got it in you. Come on, just hang on in there.'

The tone is one of silent pleading. Rose closes her eyes before directing her gaze to the skies. There is no reply from Handles and she believes that finally, after who knows how many centuries, things are just simply ready to quit. She jumps when Handles lets out an abrupt warning, not having expected that from him.

'Attention! Emergency! Atten…'

'Handles, what is it, what's wrong?' The Doctor wonders, but he gets no lucid response from Handles, just more warnings about something he doesn't even inform them properly about.

'Urgent action required! You must patch the telephone device back through the…console…unit.' Handles reminds him and the Doctor watches the light flickers a few more times before it fades to black. Nothing else is illuminated. It's over. But just in case…the Doctor shakes Handles gently. To make sure, of course.

'Come back. Handles? Handles…' The Doctor sighs and bows his head. Rose carefully places her hand on his arm. She's sure any meagre display of comfort will help. 'Thank you, Handles, and well done. Well done, mate.' He carefully sets Handles back down just as the first rays of dawn begin to stretch over the land. He doesn't linger in sadness for long and he gets to his feet, uneasily, motioning for Clara to join him. She does so, leaning against the rails as they watch the sun climb higher and higher.

When he notices that Rose isn't with them, he reaches back with the cane to gently prod her into getting up, which she does with a suppressed smirk and roll of her eyes, and he smiles at her as she stands beside him, resting her elbows on the rails as the sun begins to paint the land below them. The Doctor carefully moves his hand over hers and Rose smiles slightly.

Birds begin to chirp over their heads, some resting on the rails and then flying off. They don't say anything. Maybe because none of them are sure of what to say, there's the glaring obvious, which they are certain will lead them into fights. What's the point in that? There are things that have to be said of course, but why waste the breath to say them? But the need to utter them must be so overwhelming that it's all they can think about and so attempts to move beyond it fail. The Doctor attempts to skirt around it, not wanting either one of the girls to work up the courage to yell at him. His cheek still stings from Rose's slap earlier. Imagine if that had been a punch indeed?

'What do you two think of my new place?' The Doctor wonders, looking to Clara first who gives him a sad smile and a nod. She's okay. Somewhat. And he turns to Rose so Clara can't protest. Rose stares at him with an unblinking expression. Those hazel eyes watching him and silently questioning his motives so he presses onward. 'I come up here once a day for a few minutes…remind myself what it is I'm protecting.'

Clara can understand that. It's what has inspired him for so long. She nods her head approvingly. 'It's beautiful,' She confirms and glances past him to Rose who has been strangely silent. She thought for sure Rose would be the most vocal about this situation. She hasn't. That's worrisome to her so Clara decides to ask why. Since Rose doesn't or won't. 'Why did you send us away?'

There it is. The question he's been dreading. He knows he should have offered an explanation before, but he didn't. Because he didn't feel as though he had to tell them why. It was his choice. He doesn't look at Clara when he answers her. 'Because if I hadn't, I'd have buried you both a long time ago.'

Clara shakes her head. 'No, you wouldn't. We would have never let you get stuck here. Right, Rose?'

'Right.'

The Doctor stares at them before he laughs. 'Ha! Everyone gets stuck somewhere.' The Doctor replies and Rose smiles ironically.

'He's right. I should know.' She informs them and the Doctor clears his throat. She's not taking that ditching and tricking part too well. In every sense of the word.

'Everything ends.' He adds and Rose straightens up. She turns away from them and wraps her arms around herself. She's disengaging already. Clara doesn't look too impressed either, judging by her frown and the way she plants her hands on her hips.

'Except you.' Clara insists and Rose turns to them. The Doctor glances from Rose to Clara. This is a hard concept to convey, he doesn't even think Rose is aware of this little catch. But he isn't sure…that would have been a conversation that she and John would have had, possibly.

But then again he didn't tell her about his limited time. However she does know how to pilot the TARDIS, most likely the history of the Time Lords. So maybe…Clara's constant prodding, asking if she's right is starting to grate on his nerves. She keeps missing the point. It's something he's been avoiding since the beginning as well. One last regeneration and he's been spending it defending this planet, not that he regrets it – he knows what he had been getting into, but to spend the last go without Rose or Clara gallivanting around the universe, helping people, exploring distant places, causing a ruckus wherever they go…he does get bitter sometimes.

'Have you been paying attention?' He wonders impatiently at Clara and she folds her arms, wanting him to explain. 'I'm an old man now.'

'But you don't die. You change. You pop right back up with a new face.' Clara insists and the Doctor shakes his head sadly.

'No, not forever. I can change twelve times. Thirteen versions of me. Thirteen silly Doctors.' His voice softens and Rose shakes her head in disbelief. She didn't know. And she can quickly see why that's a problem, his getting older. She turns away from them. But Clara hasn't realised things yet. Rose is strangely silent.

'Okay so you're number Eleven…' She trails off and the Doctor smiles as he shakes his head.

'Are we forgetting Captain Grumpy, eh? He and Rose had a grand old adventure, didn't you?' The Doctor nudges Rose but she doesn't respond. 'Doesn't matter. I didn't call myself the Doctor during the Time War, but it was still a regeneration.'

Clara begins to grow fearful. Her heart rate begins to increase and she presses her lips together. 'Okay, so you're number twelve.'

'Number ten once regenerated and kept the same face – I had vanity issues at the time. Right, Rose?' The Doctor nudges Rose slightly but she doesn't respond right away. Eventually she looks at him with glassy eyes and a stare that tells him that he shouldn't make light of this situation with them. He looks away. 'Twelve regenerations, Clara. I can't ever do it again. This is where I end up. This face – this version of me. We saw this planet in the future, remember? All those graves…one of them mine.'

Rose watches the sun, which moments ago shone light on them, warming their faces, offering them hope fades into obscurity. Along with her hope and faith. She had forgotten that once as the tenth version of himself, a regeneration was triggered. She doesn't know how she could have forgotten to count that. She grips the railing and tries hard to push the depressing thoughts from her mind.

How is it that they go from hours ago, or how ever long ago it truly was, arguing, shouting at one another because of what she chose to do with her life that didn't concern him? How much he judged her choices, rifling through her things that had been gifted to her by Charlie, their photos that captured their love and happiness…it all has been put into perspective now, hasn't it?

He's been a part of her life, whether the good or the bad, whether she wanted to admit it or not, that to abruptly have to go on without him around seems scary and unnecessary. She's done it before, rebuilt her life because she's had to, but she's done so with the knowledge that he was out there…somewhere. So when he's gone…there is no coming back from that. What is she to do? There will be a hole in her heart that she won't be able to fill. Sure, her life will go on…but it won't be the same, will it?

'Change the future.' Clara says suddenly. Rose turns around and smiles ironically. If only it were that simple. Some things cannot be avoided.

'I can't.' The Doctor states firmly and Clara motions to the TARDIS below them.

'Why? You've got your TARDIS back.'

'Ha! You think I'm just going to fly away, abandon everyone?' The Doctor wonders and Clara folds her arms impatiently and shakes her head. What a thing to assume. Rose watches the TARDIS carefully. She must know the end is in sight. Is he going to ask her to fly the TARDIS somewhere safe and leave to decay by the ravages of time? She doesn't know if she could if he wanted her to.

'Of course not. But you've been protecting this town for over three hundred years. Do you not think it's anybody else's go yet?' Clara questions firmly and watches the Doctor shake his head and she has a feeling that disagreeing headshake is at her and her lack of perception. Even Rose finally turns around and gives Clara a sad smile.

'That's the problem, Clara, there is no one else.' Rose reminds her but Clara refuses to give in so easily. There has to be another way. They just have to find it.

'It won't be you forever. It'll end the same way, whatever you do.' Clara points out and the Doctor shakes his head sadly.

'Every life I save is a victory. Every single one.' The Doctor maintains and Clara balls her fist, angry about his lack of thought for himself. She doesn't get why Rose isn't saying anything to him to try and convince him to be selfish. Does she think it's moot? Well, know what? She's going to say it to him regardless if it is.

'What about your life?!' Clara shouts at him and he stares at her stunned. Even Rose has turned to her surprised by her outburst. She can hear the conviction in her voice and despite his views, because Rose knows them all too well, a fire is lit within her as well. 'Just for once, after all of this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?'

There is a silence and Rose looks up to him. 'She's got a point.'

'Don't you start.' The Doctor states and Rose turns to look at the sky. Clara instantly feels bad for causing a fight. This isn't the time for that.

'I'm sorry. Wrong thing to say. We shouldn't be having an argument.' Clara looks to the ground where the TARDIS and she feels defeated. Nothing she can say will change his mind. And when she looks over to him, she watches the Doctor put his arm around Rose quickly. She says something to him but Clara doesn't hear what it is. Moments later the Doctor laughs and shakes his head at Rose, drawing his arm away.

'Don't you see, Rose? That's the argument I've been having for the last three hundred years all by myself. No matter what you or Clara say I have to stay here. To the very end.'

Clara looks away and sighs. 'But you didn't have your TARDIS.'

The Doctor catches Clara words and nudges her a bit. It causes her to smile up at him which he returns. 'Ah! Yes, well, that made it easier to stay. True.'

Rose is alerted and begins scanning the area wondering if another attack is going to happen and ready to help out in whatever way she can. The thunder erupts over their heads and Rose scans the skies but finds nothing to alert her to trouble. She widens her eyes when a project of Tasha is displayed overhead. She does not look too impressed.

'Doctor!' She calls out and he waves at her.

'Ah! Look who's woken up!' He responds and Clara swallows. That woman from the church does not look happy at all. She is glaring daggers at them.

'The Church of the Silence requests parlay. Your rights and safety are sanctified.' Tasha informs them and Rose widens her eyes at the realisation. She turns up to the Doctor who gives Tasha a thumbs up. That encounter years prior while she worked at the Proclamation…they were connected. Those creatures, the man she captured…they were all tied to this moment and she didn't even know. Huh.

'I'll be right up.' He replies and Tasha nods her head.

'I'm sending a transporter.'

The Doctor brushes her off with a smirk. 'Nah, don't bother. I've got me motor back.'

Tasha gives him another glare before the projection fizzles out and Rose turns up to him with a flat exterior.

'She having a bad day?' Rose wonders and the Doctor shrugs with a smirk.

'Oh, there isn't enough time to go over what she's angry about.' The Doctor replies and begins to head back into the church. Clara lingers after Rose has started to find him when she realises that they are covered in darkness once again. She's been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she missed it. She becomes dejected.

'It's gone dark.' Clara calls to them and points over the belfry railing. The Doctor pokes his head out and frowns at her, watching her point a few times and he shrugs absently. He does feel bad that she's missed it.

'Well, the sun's gone down.' He points out and Clara looks to the darkness that surrounds them. There really is no light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, is there?

'Already?'

'Everything ends, Clara. And soon than you think.' The Doctor replies and carefully walks down the stairs to the basement and then out to the front of the church. Clara isn't far behind him. They walk past Rose who is still staring the crack. The whispers have drawn her back and she begins to become entranced by it. She crouches down and rests her hand on the wall just by the crack staring into the void. She narrows her eyes.

'You will help him. So help me god, you will.'

She straightens up and trots to the stairs to take her outside after the Doctor has called her name several times. However she pauses at the base of the stairs and narrows her eyes with a smirk. They will help him.

Rose and the Doctor stride confidently towards Tasha as she sits on her throne; Clara is behind them carefully watching the audience that sits before them. They do not look impressed with their arrival. Clara trots up to the Doctor when she notices the odd thing about Tasha. She looks…great.

'She hasn't aged much.' Clara whispers and the Doctor looks down to her with a confused look. He then shrugs absently.

'No she's against aging.' He states plainly and Rose rolls her eyes. She locks gazes with Tasha. Whatever niceness she displayed earlier upon their first meeting has clearly been eroded away. She looks downright livid. What have she and the Doctor been fighting about for so long?

'Must be nice.'

'Approach.' Tasha demands and the three of them do as she commands. There is fierceness to her eyes. Rose has no idea how this encounter will go, she's been out of the loop for too long, but judging by how things have gone so far…it won't be good.

Rose grows uneasy when she sees the creatures in black and white suits standing around them she can't help but stare at them, they tilt their heads at her. She wonders if they remember her. She bites her lip…there are so many of them, they appear out of nowhere.

'Confess.' Their voices echo around them and Clara presses herself to the Doctor's side, she has a feeling she has seen them before. But she doesn't know when or where. Their presence is eerie and she whispers into the Doctor's ear.

'What are those things?'

'Confess.' They demand again and Rose glares them. They continue to stare at her. Closing her eyes, she can feel their gaze staring at her behind her eyes. She doesn't like it.

'Confessional priests. Very popular. Genetically engineered so you forget everything you told them.' He explains and Rose watches them. Priests. They are too creepy to be effective however she turns away and promptly forgets what she's been staring at.

'Told who?' Clara wonders when she turns her gaze back to the Doctor and he smiles enthusiastically at her.

'There you go!'

Tasha gets up from her seat and motions for them to follow her. She says nothing as she escorts them past the priests and Rose watches them as she follows Tasha into her chambers. They continue their mantra to confess. They wouldn't have enough time in the day to sit down and listen to all the sins she's committed over her life. She smiles at them and shakes her head. She returns her gaze to Tasha's chambers and promptly forgets what she had been staring at.

Tasha directs them to sit at the table and they do so. She goes to a table against the wall and pauses. Rose notices that her head jerks to the side a bit and she frowns but Tasha quickly recovers and picks up a box. She returns it to the table where she smiles at the Doctor before she slides over the large box and the Doctor puts his hand on it and slides it out of her grasp and opens it.

Tasha eyes him. 'Satisfactory?'

The Doctor's face falls and he frowns. 'Where are the pink ones?' He wonders dismays and Tasha dismisses his claims with a flick of her wrist.

'E-numbers. You're hyper enough as it is.' Tasha replies and she sits opposite to the Doctor while he pulls out some of the marshmallows. He attempts to offer Rose one but she shakes her head.

'Still not hungry?' He wonders and she gives him a flat look.

'No.'

'You need to eat.' The Doctor decides and Rose pushes his hand out of her face.

'Later.'

'So this is sweet. Middle of a siege and you and the head of the church are having little chats?' Clara wonders with a little smile. So does Rose. Tasha glances at them and nods her head. She turns to the Doctor rests her elbows on the table.

'She's right. This situation cannot continue.' Tasha states and the Doctor quietly shuts the lid on the box. He pauses before looking up at her.

'It can't end either.'

Tasha smiles as she pushes her chair back from the table and begins to pace around the room. 'Why did you ever come to Trenzalore?' She wonders and Rose turns to the Doctor who shrugs with a small smile.

'Well, I did come to Trenzalore, and nothing can change that now,' He reminds her and then points his cane at her. 'Didn't stop you trying, did it?'

Tasha pauses and folds her arms, looking rather offended. 'Not me. The Kovarian Chapter broke away. It was they who travelled back along your timeline and tried to prevent you ever reaching Trenzalore.' She explains and the Doctor blinks at her revelation. Well that just makes a lot more sense, now, doesn't it?

'So that's who blew up my TARDIS. I thought I'd left the bath running.'

Rose frowns. 'So a rouge chapter of this organization attempted to blow up the universe in order to prevent him from getting here not caring they were other inhabitants of this universe. The needs of few out weigh the needs of many?' Rose watches Tasha innocently shrug her shoulders.

'They were rouge for a reason.' Tasha replies and Rose folds her arms.

'So which side was I greeted with at the Proclamation?'

'That was us. I had heard things about you, Rose. I wanted to see if they were true.' Tasha answers and Rose narrows her eyes.

'Didn't think to maybe put some effort into the prevention of said explosion? Cause look where we are now.' Rose wonders sarcastically and Tasha glares at her.

'There was naught we could do. They were the ones who blew up the time capsule, created the various cracks in the universe through which the Time Lords are now calling.' Tasha states and Rose shakes her head dismissively. They're just lucky the Doctor had been able to figure out a way to reboot things. It could have been a real problem, as if it wasn't already.

The Doctor shrugs innocently. 'The destiny trap. You can't change history if you're a part of it.'

Tasha eyes his nonchalant attitude. 'They engineered a psychopath to kill you.' She reminds him and the Doctor sits back in his chair with a superior smirk on his face.

'Totally married her. I'd never have made it here alive without River Song.'

'Oh, my god.' Rose mutters under her breath and when the Doctor looks over to Rose she is glaring at him angrily, arms folded and drumming her fingers on her arm.

'Oh, no, what I meant was…' He begins but Rose holds up her hand at him. Impatience clearly etched on her face. The tension is mounting. He's gotta fix this.

'Save it. Just remember, there were others before her that propped you up. Sacrificed more than their fair share. So just…whatever.' Rose turns away from him and he glances to Tasha who is staring at them with wide eyes. Clara presses her lips together, well things just got awkward.

'I am not interested in changing history, Doctor. I want to change the future. The Daleks send for reinforcements daily, they are massing for war,' Tasha pauses and stops behind the Doctor. She leans into him to whisper into his ear. 'Three days ago, they attacked the Mainframe itself.'

Rose widens her eyes and her hand covers her mouth. 'They attacked here? Oh, my god, how did you stop them?'

Tasha smiles at Rose. She grows uncomfortable with the sinister smile on Tasha's lips. 'Stop them? It was slaughter.'

'Why didn't you call me? I could have helped.' The Doctor replies and Tasha turns her gaze to him.

'I tried. I died in this room, screaming your name.' Tasha reveals and Rose is on her feet so quickly that the chair is knocked backward. She reaches for the gun she picked up in her room on their journey here.

The Doctor turns up to her. 'No…' He whispers and Clara begins to inch closer towards Rose who has her hand out for Clara to join her. She clasps onto it tightly. Tasha grins at him, putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it tightly.

'Oh…I died,' Tasha confirms and her gaze flicks to a spot at the back wall and a twisted smile plays out on her lips. She moves to take a seat beside him. 'It's funny the things that slip your mind.'

The Doctor watches as she abruptly gasps and her head falls to the table. He doesn't miss his chance to move towards Rose and Clara while carefully watching Tasha. She brings her hands to her head and squeezes tightly.

'No! No, no, no, Tasha, no, please, not Tasha, no. Fight it!' He implores and Rose holds her breath as a cracking sound is heard. Tasha slowly begins to raise her head. And the Doctor begins to beg once again.

'We need to go!' Rose calls to him but he has his eyes on Tasha, she's beginning to turn her head in their direction.

'Tash, fight it!' The Doctor shouts to him. But she seems to have succumbed to whatever it is she's fighting. Rose lowers her hand and widens her eyes as a Dalek eyestalk begins to grow out of her forehead. Okay…that's a new one.

Rose whips her head around when the door to Tasha's chambers are blasted inward and Daleks begin to pour through the doors.

'Step away from the Dalek unit, Doctor!' A Dalek commands and the Doctor stares stunned at the Dalek's revelation. How is this possible?

'You shouldn't even know who I am.' The Doctor breathes and the Daleks begin to advance towards them. Rose tilts her head and looks for a way to stop them from advancing.

'Information concerning the Doctor was harvested from the cadaver of Tasha Lem.' The Dalek reveals and the Doctor looks over to Tasha who has gotten to a standing position and is facing Rose and Clara with a blank look in her eyes and the eerie blue that emits from the stalk protruding from her forehead. Okay, so they've advanced since the last time she's faced them.

'But she never told you how to break the Trenzalore force field, though. She'd have died first.' The Doctor surmises and the Dalek moves forward towards him.

'Several times.' The Dalek confirms and the Doctor's gaze moves to Tasha, where he silently begs her for forgiveness.

'Well, you'd better kill me, then, go on. But before you do…' The Doctor pauses and uses the sonic where he triggers the messages to be broadcasted in its translated form. Over and over again the question begs for an answer.

'Doctor who…? Doctor who…? Doctor who…?'

'Careful…' Rose warns and Clara moves closer to Rose as she aims the gun squarely at Tasha's chest.

'I'm a tough old bird. I'll be ages dying. Way enough time to answer a question. And, oh dear, what happens then, boys?' The Doctor mocks and the Daleks are silent and Rose widens her eyes wondering if he's bluffing or if he really will summon the Time Lords. Is he ready for hell to be unleashed?

Rose widens her eyes as Tasha walks towards them and before she has a chance to utter a warning or fire a warning shot, Tasha extends her eyes and bolts of lighting shoot from her fingers and hits her squarely in the chest. She lands with thud. She rolls over onto her side gasping for air. Clara gasps when Tasha places her hand on her shoulder and an electrical current shoots through her body. She groans.

'Hope you got a plan and not just one that involves antagonising them further.' Rose grits her teeth and attempts to sit up, fishing around fro her gun, but her body is still recovering from the shock.

'You will die in silence, Doctor, or your associate and Rose Tyler will die first.'

The Doctor looks from Rose to Clara and glares at the Daleks. 'Fine, go on. Kill them. Kill them! See if I care! But tell me, what are you going to do next?'

'See how the Time Lord betrays?' The Dalek questions and Rose scoffs.

'To hell with what you think. You don't know anything.' Rose pulls herself to her feet and the Dalek turns to Clara.

'You'll kill me anyway. What difference does it make? I'm not afraid. I'll leave that to you.' Clara replies firmly and the Doctor nods his head approvingly.

'You see, Tasha, that's what I'm talking about! Those are women! My women!' He walks over to Tasha where is standing her eyes watching him carefully. I always knew you were a bit spineless, you and your pointless church! Why did I ever reply on you? Never trust a nun to do a Doctor's work.'

Rose can see the shift in Tasha as though something dawns on her and she releases Clara. She looks to Rose and she nods her head. Tasha uses the gun in her hand begins shooting at the Daleks. Rose joins her.

'There!' Rose shouts to Tasha and they take a few steps towards the Daleks, Tasha aims at the ones that have begun to walk towards them while Rose focuses on the those that remain in their path. The Doctor throws his fist in the air in victory.

'And she's back!' The Doctor declares and rushes towards Rose and Tasha where he kisses Tasha on the cheek. 'You never could resist a row.'

Tasha smirks at him but glares at him. 'Kiss me when I ask.'

'Well, you'd better ask nicely.' The Doctor responds and Tasha shakes her head at him.

'In your dreams.'

The Doctor nods his head. 'Right, get us back to the TARDIS. Can you do that?' He questions and pulls Rose by her arm and takes Clara's hand while he drags them towards the transporter. Tasha steals a quick glance at them over her shoulder.

'Yup, but quickly, the Dalek inside me is waking.' She warns and Rose checks the rounds in her gun. She doesn't have many left. The Doctor points at her.

'Fight it.' He demands but Tasha doesn't look at him while she shakes her head.

'I can't.'

The Doctor shakes his head unable to take her negativity. 'Listen to me. You have been fighting the psychopath inside you all your life. Shut up and win. That is an order, Tasha Lem.'

Rose ensures that Clara is in the second booth before she glances back to Tasha who has moved on to the controls. 'How long will the force field hold, Tasha?'

'Not long. It will eventually decay and there are breeches already.'

Rose looks up to the Doctor. 'Then we'd better get moving.'

He nods his head. 'This isn't a siege any more. It's a war. It's all up to you now. Fight the Daleks, inside and out. You can do it, I know you can.' The Doctor gives her a small smile but Tasha eyes him.

'Oh, I see. You've got your TARDIS back, haven't you? Time to fly away.' Tasha wonders, a hint of scorn in her voice. The Doctor stares at her.

'Tasha, please…please. Thank you.' He offers and Tasha scoffs.

'None of this was for you, you fatuous egotist. It was for peace. Fly away, Doctor!'

Rose watches for a moment before she smiles at Tasha and Rose nods her head at her. 'Thank you, Tasha. Good luck.'

'And to you, Rose. May luck be ever at your side.'

She watches him fondly as he runs his hand over the console multiple times, gazing at the controls with a dreamy look. He has missed his TARDIS, she can tell. Even Clara is staring at him with a small smile on her lips. There is a heaviness to the air, relief is coupled with what the hell do they do now? Rose crosses her ankles as she shifts on the rails, resting more of the weight in her hands.

She wants to ask him what they need to do now in order to make things as safe as they can for those still left on Trenzalore. However she also doesn't want to spoil the atmosphere, so she stays silent. When she finds her eyes meeting his Rose gives him a small half smile, to let him know she's here for him…from now on and forever. He looks away first. She looks to the ceiling when there is a ding that echoes around them. What bell did that, and why hasn't she heard it before?

'It's done.' The Doctor informs them, his gaze still locked on the console unit. Rose frowns and looks to Clara.

'What's done?' Rose looks around the Doctor turns to Clara, surprised she hasn't realised it. He points to the floor.

'Your turkey. Either that or it's woken up.'

'Oh, I don't know if I have the strength to fight a giant turkey.' Rose comments and Clara begins to laugh. Cooking dinner for her family…god it felt like years ago. With everything that's happened to them in such a short amount of time. She walks towards the mouth of the stairs and pauses.

'Do you want some?' Clara wonders hopefully and the Doctor looks to Rose who eyes him with a small smile. He folds his arms.

'Are you hungry yet?'

'I could eat, yeah.' Rose confirms and the Doctor gives Clara a curt nod and she grins.

'Go on, then.' He replies and Rose slides off the rails while she points at him having rounded the console.

'Where are the plates stashed?' She wonders and the Doctor smiles at her. He points under the console. Rose folds her arms and arches her eyebrow at him.

'I think I put them with the Christmas crackers.'

'The ones you brought over the first time?' Rose stares at him and he nods.

'Yeah, dinner with your mum. You know, she can cook a mean turkey.'

'Who do you think I learned it from?' Rose wonders and moves past Clara down the stairs and she glances from Rose to the Doctor, lost in their meaning. They really have known one another forever. Clara is about to follow her when a thought crosses her mind. She watches Rose reach the bottom of the stairs and disappear.

She walks back to the Doctor and steadies her breath. 'One thing. Give me those big sad eyes, look at me so I know you're not lying and tell me you will never send me or Rose away every again.'

The Doctor turns to her and levels his voice, so as not to betray his thoughts. 'Clara Oswald…I will never send you or Rose Tyler away…again.' He confirms and he watches her face light up at his promise. Which is why it's so much harder. He's glad Rose isn't here with them. His voice may have faltered.

He is surprised when Clara gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning on her heel and runs down the stairs to join Rose at the bottom. His hand lingers there for some time. It causes him to debate with himself while he hears them rustling underneath his feet. He flicks on the monitor that shows Christmas. The right thing. Do it.

'Oh, Clara that smells wonderful.' He can hear Rose with a small sigh in her voice.

'Thanks, Rose! Not bad for a first try.'

'Don't worry; the first time is always the most nerve wracking. It'll be easier from here on in.'

'I'm starving. I can't wait!' Clara exclaims and he can hear Rose utter something in agreement.

'Ever carved a turkey before?' Rose questions and there is a drawn out pause. He doesn't look over his shoulder to them as he places the same device from before in the slot he had instructed Clara to use earlier. But he pauses.

'No…is it hard?'

Rose laughs. 'Not at all, I'll show you.'

They struggle to lift the turkey out and he shoves the device in all the way, without hesitation. It's the right thing to do. He closes his eyes. Don't think about how you are betraying them, he thinks. It's to keep them safe.

'Blimey this is heavy.' Clara strains with it and Rose makes her way carefully up the stairs with the pan. Clara missteps and the pan tilts to one side, Rose widens her eyes and catches it. They reach the top of the stairs and Clara carefully removes the turkey from Rose's hands and Rose takes the plates from under her arm and they walk to the console.

'Well, Doctor, Merry Christmas.' Rose calls to him and Clara smiles as she looks around the console room.

'Doctor? Merry Christmas!' Clara tries and together they frown as they notice the TARDIS door slightly ajar. Assuming him to have walked outside, Rose and Clara begin to walk outside only to find themselves back in the streets with Clara's apartment complex before them.

Rose widens her eyes instantly knows what's going on. She drops the plates and turns over to the TARDIS as it dematerialises. She starts to run towards it but doesn't believe she'll make it in time so she dives to grip it. She doesn't make it in time and catches nothing but air. She rolls and gets to her feet, turning around in a small circle. Rose turns to Clara staring into nothing, tears rolling down her face. Rose feels herself taking quick, shallow breaths and swallowing a hard lump in her throat. Angry tears sting her eyes but she doesn't let them fall, instead she directs her rage and betrayal at the plates. She angrily smashes them onto the ground. She holds onto the last one and stares at it. Turning it over in her hands before she grits her teeth in anger and flings it into the air, reaching for her gun and shooting into pieces, the explosion and subsequent sound of glass erupting causes Clara to jump. Clara is startled and turns her gaze to where Rose has angrily begun to pace around. Clara turns her eyes to the flat complex and she sighs, sniffling and hiccupping she moves to set the turkey, which moments ago held joyous tidings has decayed into duplicity, onto the ground unsure of what to do now. Clara doesn't invite Rose to follow her back to her flat and Rose doesn't inquire as to where she's going either. They each are too preoccupied with trying to soothe the angry sting of treachery.

The mood in the little flat hasn't gotten better in the hour and half she's been back with her family. To her family's knowledge, her morose attitude is due to her perceived break up with her faux boyfriend and they attempt to offer little words of comfort, keeping the conversation going by avoiding talking about the obvious. When Clara had needed a break from the stifling atmosphere and her father's closeness, as well intended as it was, had gone into the kitchen, she glanced out to still see Rose pacing as she talked on a mobile, she had been gesturing angrily. Clara hadn't lingered much longer. The next time she needed a break, she peered out the window again to now see Rose sitting on the green field below, staring into nothing. She nearly went down to invite her in but something stopped her. She wasn't sure what.

Clara glances to her dad and smiles to show she's still somewhat paying attention. But her thoughts are on Rose and being left behind by the Doctor. They are dealing with this situation in their own way. While Clara is certainly hurt by this, she imagines Rose is stung ten times more. She is certain that Rose and the Doctor had, at one point, been closer than they let on. To the true extent, Clara can only imagine but she guesses on a deep intimate level. Still, however, things between them had been tense for some time. That much is clear. Judging by their fights that she sometimes catches because of how loud they argue, someone left someone else, dumped rather. They each carried on until circumstances out of their control allowed for them to reunite again. But they had returned to one another different people, as Clara had learned by meeting previous versions of the Doctor, all of whom loved that girl greatly. And Rose, prior to their reunion, had found love. Good for her. But who she loved apparently caused tension between she and the Doctor, the Doctor believing that her love wasn't a good man. Well, who decides who is good and who is bad? Clara doesn't know the man's name or anything but it isn't anyone else's business to go prying into someone else's love life. That is no one's concern. But then again…when you're prone to jealousy as those two are…it's never that simple, is it?

Clara nods her head at her grandma and leans in to her embrace. She nearly begins to cry when her grandmother places a small kiss on her head. She grieves for her loss but her thoughts return to Rose. Because she knows Rose is livid…and she knows Rose needs more comfort than she does.

Rose does need the comfort. She needs something. When she had called Jack, trying to brainstorm ways to recall the TARDIS, pushing aside all his little nagging questions, promising to see him soon to catch up about it, they hadn't gotten far. She couldn't follow because her manipulator was still onboard the TARDIS and Jack willed his to Kate. Should they go break in to retrieve it? That is plausible but Jack is still in Cardiff…there wasn't much of a point, he still had to get here. And yet no tears fell for her situation, it was nothing but rage. So when she finally got off her mobile with Jack, fully assuming that she would have a little breakdown, she surprised herself by not having it. Instead she sits on the ground, crossing her legs and stares into nothing, mourning him. Crafty bastard…she never wants him to die alone. And now he's made certain that she can't be there with him. All their history together…and it means nothing to him, does it? Should she think like that? It's rather callous, but that's how she feels. He sent her away the first time so he wouldn't have to bury her in the ground, did he sent her away this time so she wouldn't have to witness the same? For ten years she's seen him die only to be reborn. Maybe that's how he wanted her to remember him. Not someone who will not awaken as a new man. Shouldn't that be up to her? She's seen lots of people die. Those she knew, those she didn't. Those much like John and Charlie, died in her arms, and took small pieces of her heart with them. And she wanted him in her arms so that when he finally closed his eyes for the last time…he'd see her. And maybe it'd comfort him a bit to know that because of him she lives a better life. And that the torch would be passed along to her. And she'd do her damnedest to ensure the flame didn't die but rather grew more powerful. To be a source of light to all those who are lost.

She perks up, sitting taller when a familiar sound rings like music to her ear. She widens her eyes. There, she isn't crazy; she saw the outline of the TARDIS. She quickens her breath and her gaze shifts to Clara's flat. Did she see it, can she hear it? Should she go and get her? Rose turns to watch the TARDIS continue to materialise. She turns over her shoulder when the sound of someone opening the side door to the complex and Rose sees Clara running at full speed to reach them, she has two Christmas crackers in her hands and Rose smiles at her. When Clara reaches Rose she exhales and inhales deeply.

'How did you do it?' Clara wonders and they impatiently wait for the TARIDS to materialise. Rose shakes her head.

'Not I. He must have gotten bored without us.' She teases and the moment the TARDIS lands, Rose throws up the door and together they burst in, running full speed, only stopping when the one at the controls isn't who they thought it would be. Rose is crushed. It must be too late.

'Oh…' Clara looks at Tasha, maintaining control of the Dalek within her as she moves around the TARDIS hitting buttons in a sequence.

'Tasha. How did you come to get access to the TARDIS?' Rose wonders and Tasha pauses in her actions, a slight frown etches across her forehead. She looks up.

'It was given to me at my insistence.'

'You can fly the TARDIS?' Clara questions and Rose watches Tasha continue to move but Rose can see she appears to be frantic, however she is carefully holding herself together. Things must be dire by now. So she walks to the console.

'Let me.' Rose offers and Tasha nods her head relieved. There are many more instructions that he had left out than what he'd told her. Rose places a quick kiss on her palm and places her palm on the centre column. There is a light up and she can hear the whispers in her mind. Begging to be returned to her rightful place. To make haste. He is in need of her. Rose makes it as quick as she can. Clara notices the ease in which they take off.

'Flying the TARDIS was always easy. It was flying the Doctor I never quite mastered.' Tasha explains and Clara can see the worry in both Tasha and Rose's eyes. They are avoiding it. Something bad is happening to him. Why else would Tasha seek them once again? What trouble is he in?

Rose can sense the turmoil before the TARDIS has landed completely. She grips the console tightly and listens to the TARDIS hum in her mind. She must get to him. She walks to the door under the careful eye of Tasha and Clara. When the TARDIS materialises she opens the door to see utter chaos before her eyes. She feels her jaw drop as smoke and ash fill her nose and nearly makes her choke. Burning rubble is smouldering around her as she steps out. Things are falling into destruction, there is death lingering in the air. Clara and Tasha make their way out and before Clara can ask anything of Rose, she takes off running. Clara widens her eyes as she jumps over anything in her way, side stepping out of the townspeople's way.

Clara turns up to Tasha. 'What am I supposed to do?'

Tasha puts her hand on Clara's shoulder, giving her a small, sad smile. 'He shouldn't die alone. I know he would want you and Rose by his side. So go.' She walks away without saying anything further. Clara watches her becomes smaller in the distance before she's snapped out of her daze and begins to head into the chaos.

She glances at the two Christmas crackers in her hands, her head swimming with uneasy and depressing thoughts. She is clipped in the shoulder by one of the fleeing townspeople and she nearly loses her balance. She hasn't realised she's made it to the church until she stops automatically and stares at the darkened windows. The heavy wooden doors are open slightly. Rose has made it here first. Clara bites the corner of her lip and begins to head up the stairs. She twists the crackers in her hands to keep herself busy.

There is a soft light that comes from the basement stairs and Clara begins to slowly walk down them before the voices float up to her and she pauses, wanting to give them some more time to themselves before she interrupts them. She looks to the drawings that have begun to creep up the stairs. There are new ones covering older, faded ones. She smiles a bit, trying not to listen to their conversation.

'I can't believe you still have that! I look ridiculous!' Rose's soft voice insists but there is a bit of laughter to it as well.

'Your light-hearted attitude in the face of fake ghosts brought a smile to my face when I needed it the most,' Comes the faint reply and Clara feels a smile on her face. 'And, how could I not look at that beautiful face and think of you. Although I should say, you're prettier in person.'

'Oh, my god, you need to stop,' Rose pauses and there is some rustling. 'Stop…'

'Then you stop crying, Rose Tyler. All things must end. You should know that better than anyone. Even I can't go on forever.'

'I am not crying. And I never said things go on forever. I just wanted it to be centuries after I've gone.'

There is silence when Clara shifts her weight and the stairs creak. She widens her eyes and she swallows. Knowing that they've heard her, Clara continues down the stairs, her eyes still falling on the beautiful drawings given to him over the centuries. A rasping sound causes her to worry and she quickens her pace just in time to see Rose handing something to the Doctor and Clara realises he's busy whittling something. It looks as though it's a toy. Rose brushes the shavings away for him and he gives her a nod. It's amazing how in tune they still are with one another. They can still read each other's movements even though it's been centuries.

'Barnable?'

'No, Doctor, it's Clara,' Rose informs him and she turns to see Clara standing there with glassy eyes and two Christmas crackers in her hand. Rose gives her a sad smile. 'He asked me the same thing.'

The Doctor passes the toy off to Rose who sets it beside her as she tucks her legs into her side more. He carefully removes his glasses and Clara is surprised to see that though he appears to her to be in his eighties, surely he's much more older than that.

'Hello, Doctor.' Clara holds up her hand and she walks towards them and he carefully studies her before glancing to Rose who nods at him. He turns back to her and smiles.

'Were you always so young?' He wonders and Clara smirks at him. She shakes her head.

'Nah, that was you.' Clara replies and she notices that he takes his hand from Rose's to reach out for Clara. She grips it tightly and comes to stand in front of him. She smiles sadly when he places a light kiss on her hand. Rose and Clara lock stares and Rose closes her eyes, Clara feels her hope slowly extinguishing within her.

'Hm…' The Doctor looks at each of them and Clara shows him two Christmas crackers. He frowns and Rose smiles.

'Merry Christmas.' Clara says quietly and the Doctor nods his head. Rose accepts one of the crackers and holds onto it tightly, staring at the cracker in a small attempt to stop her mind from thinking all of the bad thoughts.

'Merry Christmas. Rose?' The Doctor turns to her and Rose looks up with a morose look and he nods at her, missing the depression clearly evident on face. 'Merry Christmas.'

'Same to you.' Rose nods at Clara and she pulls the end of her Christmas cracker and its pop echoes around them. She picks up the little piece of paper that's fallen into her lap. Clara extends the one in her hand to the Doctor.

He grips it but is unable to summon the strength to pull it and so Clara kneels in front of him with a smile and she wraps her hand around his and gives him a short nod. 'It's fine, don't worry.' Together they pull the ends and the loud pop is heard and the paper tumbles out.

'Ah! Is there a joke? Huh?' The Doctor wonders with excitement and Rose turns hers over. She frowns.

'Not mine. Mine's a lyric.'

'What lyric?' He questions and Rose finds herself smiling ironically.

'I'll tell you, but you have to guess the song.'

'Ok.' He agrees and settles back into his chair. Rose glances over the small excerpt of the song and crumples the paper in her hand.

'Well I've been afraid of changing/Cause I've built my life around you/But time makes you bolder/Even children get older/And I'm getting older too.'

'It's obvious,' The Doctor declares and Rose takes his hand in hers. 'Clara, is yours a joke?'

Clara frowns and squints as she brings the paper closer. 'Extract from "Thoughts On A Clock" by Eric Ritchie Jr.'

'Is it a knock-knock one? Those are the best.' The Doctor grips Rose's hand tighter as he settles back in his chair. Clara shakes her head while Rose ensures that he is comfortable.

'No, I don't think so.' Clara replies and the Doctor motions her to continue on with a small flick of his wrist. Rose turns over her shoulder when she believes she hears the angry shouting and demanding tones of an enemy. The Doctor frowns.

'Well, read it. Go on.' He demands and Clara nods her head. The Doctor covers Rose's hand with his own and she holds on tight.

' "And now it's time for one last bow. Like all your other selves Eleven's hour is over now. The clock is striking twelve's.'" Clara recites and she lowers the paper. Every exchanges looks unsure of what the meaning behind the cryptic words could be.

'I don't get it,' The Doctor answers and Clara shrugs her shoulders. Rose turns over her shoulder to look up at the ceiling. She can hear something, calling and demanding. 'Rose? What's wrong?'

'They're coming.'

'Who?' Clara wonders and Rose turns to them, however before Rose can tell them they hear the cold drawl of an age-old enemy. Rose bristles and tenses.

'The Daleks demand the Doctor!'

Everyone turns to the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs and a small child comes to an abrupt halt at the bottom and runs over to them. He seems out of breath. Rose already knows what he's going to say. The question is how is she going to stop an army of Daleks? How will she keep the people safe, she needs to think of a plan but for some reason she can't think of anything helpful. Her thoughts are consumed with the thought of losing him at any point.

'They're here. The Daleks, we can't stop them. They want you.' The youth informs them and Rose turns her eyes to the Doctor. She begins shaking her head. But he appears to disregard her.

'Oh, all right, Barnable,' The Doctor sighs and looks to the youth. 'Are you Barnable?'

'No, Doctor.' The youth begins shaking his head and the Doctor dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

'It's okay, Barnable, don't worry. I have got a plan. Off you pop.' The Doctor replies and the youth bites the corner of his lip and turns his nervous gaze on Clara first and then to Rose. He takes a step back before running back towards the stairs. He skips a few stairs and they hear the door open wider. It lets in the loud rumbling and crashes from the quickly approaching enemies. Rose turns to the Doctor and swallows a tight lump in her throat.

'So, tell me your plan so I can get it started.'

'I haven't got a plan, Rose, but people love it when you say that.' The Doctor informs her and he motions for her to get the cane. She hands it to him but stares at him with wide eyes.

'Of course, I should have known you didn't have a plan.' Rose sighs and shakes her head, helping him to his feet. Clara backs out of their way and she frowns.

'Doctor, what are you going to do?'

'Oh, I don't know. Talk very fast, hope something good happens, take the credit. That's generally how it works.' He answers her seriously and Clara watches Rose helping him to the stairs that lead to the belfry. He grips the railing tight and pulls himself up carefully.

Clara begins to panic and presses her lips together as Rose remains at the bottom of the stairs. She watches Rose glance to the crack in the wall and her look becomes hard. It becomes cold and so unlike her. She blinks once and Clara tilts her head because she's certain that for a moment her eyes become golden. But Clara shakes herself into reality. And Rose's eyes are the same.

'Doctor…' Clara calls softly and Rose glances up to him before her gaze drops down and settles on the crack.

'Not this time, though,' The Doctor states softly and Clara shakes her head. He looks down to Rose who is staring at the crack, her eyes break him when she sets her gaze upon his. They are too expressive. Just like Clara's face is. He attempts a smile. 'This is it.'

Clara balls her fists. 'No!'

The Doctor gives her a silent look that says there is naught they can do. Clara refuses to accept that answer. There has to be something they can do. 'Yes. We saw the future, Clara. This is how it ends.'

'Change it!' Clara shouts, her voice quivers and tears well up behind her eyes. She hastily wipes them away. She doesn't want him to see her cry. But she's so frustrated with his lack of effort. He's simply giving up. And that's not like him. And yet she can't seem to rouse the fight within him.

'Huh!' The Doctor replies dismissively and heads up the stairs, ignoring them both. Rose hastily wipes away the tears that have started to fall, she detaches herself from this situation as best as she can so as not to feel and get distracted by her emotions. She will not let the Daleks do anything to him. Not if she has anything to say about it.

'Like Tasha said, change the future!' Clara calls up to him from the bottom of the stairs and there is a pause, she believes he's really considering her words. But his response devastates her.

'I could have once. When there were Time Lords. Not anymore,' He states seriously and Clara puts her foot on the stairs to follow him but his voice cuts through the silence and she freezes. 'Now, you're going to stay here. Promise me you will. Rose?! You hear me? Stay here.'

'I can't hear you!' Rose calls from her spot by the crack and Clara folds her arms.

'Why?' Clara demands and the Doctor turns back down to her and flashes her a pleading look. She is silenced and she wraps her arms around herself. How does she convince him to help himself? He deserves it, more than anyone.

'I'll be keeping you and Rose safe. One last victory. Allow me that. Do you hear me, Rose?! Give me that,' The Doctor begs and comes back down the stairs carefully and embraces Clara tightly. She clings to him. Rose is silent. 'Give me that, my impossible girl. Thank you. And goodbye,' He gives her a little smile and Clara is unable to stop the tears from falling in earnest. She closes her eyes when the Doctor gives her forehead a kiss. He wipes away her tears with his thumbs. He attempts to get her to smile. 'The trouble with Daleks is, they take so long to say anything. Probably die of boredom before they shoot me.'

Clara sobs as he begins to head back up the stairs to belfry and await his fate. She buries her face into her hands and her shoulders shake from the sobs that wrack her body. She turns and walks back to the Doctor's vacated chair and drops into it defeated. What can she do? How does she help? Can she help? Angry words fill the air around her and Clara pulls her hands away from her face and realises that Rose is angrily speaking to someone. A one sided conversation. Clara stands and strains to hear. She can see Rose by the crack in the wall, crouched down, her hand hovering over it.

'Listen here Time Lord boys and girls; you should remember me, yeah? We met not that long ago. I helped him steal your most powerful weapon. I went head to head with Rassilon and I flexed my power. Because you know very well what power flows in my veins. While I may not fully understand its capacity I know that it's a part of me. So call me what you want, we aren't here to talk about me, I just wanted to be sure I had your attention. The wolf commands it.

'Now I know we didn't get off on the right foot before. But I want to look past everything to ask – no, demand a favour from you. Maybe demand isn't the right word and you may be wondering how an abomination, as I believe I was termed the last time, has the right to demand anything. I should be begging, yeah? Well, I don't do that. I don't beg.

'I am demanding you help him. Help him! How dare you lot?! You have the audacity to let the protector of this universe, and so many others, die because of the rules. Help him change the future. He said he needed your help once upon a time, now give it to him. You have no right to sit above us all and not do something. You have an obligation to do something! You know who he is. You've always known. And you have no damned right to question otherwise.

'You need to do what is right, because so help me, if you let him die – if you let the man I love die…I promise I will raise hell. We've met once before, you know I keep my word. You know him. Help him. Please…'

Rose balls her fists, still livid and gets to a standing position. She strides towards the stairs, deliberately ignoring his wishes they stay put. Clara says nothing to her as Rose passes her and as such, Clara doesn't have the vocal capabilities to tell her that she believes that crack in the wall grew smaller after Rose's angry words and forceful pleas. Clara watches Rose disappear up the stairs, stomping angrily. She didn't comment on the fact that there were tearstains on her cheeks. And so with fierce determination Clara decides to follow Rose's cue and walks up to the crack and presses her lips together, inhaling deeply. If Rose is ticked off enough to yell at them then so can she.

She crouches down like Rose did and steadies her voice. 'Um…hello. I'm…I'm not Rose. I don't know half of what she talked about but I travel with him too. And she's right to demand that you help him. You need to help him. You need to help him change the future, so please do it! Do something…don't just stand there in the shadows watching.

'I know she's right. You've spent centuries asking a question…and it's time someone told you you've been getting it wrong. His name…his name…is the Doctor. All the name he needs. Don't you see? Everything you need to know about him is in his name. And if you love him…and you should…help him. Help him.'

Clara waits for something, a sign, some magic to reveal itself to her. Something to let her know they've heard her. She grows fearful that Rose's anger that was directed at them turned them off of listening to anyone else. It worries her and after enough time of silence has passed, Clara believes that it hasn't worked. And so she gets up, heading towards the stairs that will take her outside of the church when a strange sound is heard. When she turns over her shoulder she can see that the crack has disappeared. How odd, did it work? She shakes her head as she ascends the stairs, pushing on the heavy doors and walks out into the chaos.

Once she is far enough away she turns around and looks up, gathering around her are the townspeople and together they stand at the base with her. In the distance the Daleks are closing ground, claiming the streets as their own. Clara looks to the belfry. Hope. That's what they all need a little bit more of. Where can they find it?

'You were supposed to stay behind. You were supposed to listen to me, Rose Tyler. Just once you were supposed to listen to me. Couldn't you have given me that?'

Rose smiles at him as she stands beside him as he sits in his chair. She places her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. 'No, remember? I don't like being told what to do.'

She is silenced when a familiar voice echoes around them. 'You have brought your associate to watch you die. You are dying, Doctor.'

'Yes…I'm dying. You've been trying to kill me for centuries, and here I am, dying of old age. If you want something done, do it yourself.' He muses and Rose steels her façade. Not if she has anything to say about it.

'You will die, and the Time Lords will never return.' The Dalek declares and Rose glances to him. The Daleks are unaware that there is another person who could bring the Time Lords back. Not that she would but it's a good ace up one's sleeve.

'You still can't work up the courage to shoot me, can you?' The Doctor surmises and he angrily lifts the cane up to point to the Dalek ship. 'You're still worried I've got something up my sleeve. Well, you knock yourselves out, boys. I've got nothing this time.'

Rose turns over her shoulder, running to the ledge and hoping up on it, watching the scene unfold before her. Daleks begin firing on the town. Rose inhales sharply and takes the gun out of her holster. She fires a few rounds, but they do nothing. This isn't the gun to use on Daleks. She lost the good one when she left the Proclamation. She panics, what to do? They have no firepower left. They are defenceless. She turns to the Doctor and widens her eyes; he remains seated for there is nothing to be done. He can do nothing. And she can see that it utterly destroys him. She bites her lip.

'Information shows that your associate is one Rose Tyler. She will be exterminated!' The Dalek commands and Rose widens her eyes. The Doctor weakly holds out his hand and calls her name as a gun fires at her, aiming squarely at her chest.

Something in her awakens. Slightly. Lightly. She feels a small amount of power well inside of her, as though she is parched and the power is giving her life. She holsters her gun and holds her hand out, her face drained of emotion. The sickly green beam fired at her is morphed into glass like balls and they tumble to the ground below. The Daleks try again. Rose repeats her actions. They cease to attempt for a third time. This is not her fight.

'Rose?'

She turns to him with blazing eyes. How can this be? He swallows and stares at her in fear and awe. Like the first time he set his eyes upon the raw power flowing within her. Whenever she summons it, he feels as though he failed her all those years ago. What affect does it have on her?

She merely gives him a smile and her gaze is lifted to the sky where he sees a crack appear across it, ripped open and light shines through it. She sets her golden gaze on him once again.

'They've heard my demand.'

He doesn't have a moment to answer her when he witnesses the golden glow of regeneration energy ebbs towards him, carving out a direct path from the crack to him. He widens his eyes in surprise. How could this have happened? He looks down to his hands in surprise. That familiar golden afterglow engulfs them. Hope has been reignited within him. He stands and is instantly rejuvenated. He offers Rose his hand and she takes it as he helps her down off the ledge. She blinks a few times and that luminous smoulder is replaced by a bewitching stare. She grins.

'The rules of regeneration are known. You have expended all your lives,' The Dalek states. 'We will exterminate you. We will exterminate your associate Rose Tyler.'

'Hell of a gal, my Rose, isn't she, boys? Honestly she deserves a round of applause,' The Doctor declares and Rose grips the ledge tightly, feeling a bit woozy. 'But you know what you said that got me? You mentioned the rules. Now, listen! Bit of advice. One, don't tick off a girl who once housed the Vortex, you won't win. She was being kind to you. And second. Tell me the truth if you think you know it. Law down the law, if you're feeling brave, but, Daleks, never, ever tell me the rules!'

'Emergency! Emergency! The Doctor is regenerating! The Doctor is regenerating!' The Daleks shout and above them the bell in the tower begins to strike twelve. Rose covers her mouth at his vigour that has been restored as he twirls his cane and pauses to point at her.

'Rose Tyler, my Bad Wolf. Do you know what this means?'

'We're about to embark on a strange new journey, you and I?'

'Regeneration number thirteen. We're breaking some serious science here! I tell you what; it's going to be a whopper! You should take cover.' He advises and Rose shakes her head.

'I will not leave you alone.'

'Exterminate! Exterminate the Doctor! Exterminate!'

The Doctor begins to laugh and Rose is unable to stop herself from smiling. 'You think you can stop me now, Daleks? If you want my life…come and get it!' He declares and Rose shields her face from the blast of regeneration energy the Doctor shoots from his arm at an impending Dalek. It is struck dead on and tumbles from the sky, landing on the ground beneath them.

Rose moves behind the Doctor to peer over the ledge to see Clara ushering the townspeople into the church to keep them safe. She covers her eyes as another blast of regeneration energy is hurled at the Daleks.

'Doctor!' Rose calls to him but he doesn't hear her. She isn't going to be able to stay much longer. She needs to find a way down and spies a coil of rope that has been discarded in the opposite corner of the belfry. She dashes behind the Doctor once more and collects it. She begins to secure an end to the balcony.

'Love from Gallifrey, boys!' The Doctor shouts to the Daleks and Rose hops up on the ledge to throw the rope down where it dangles precariously. She turns over her shoulder and watches with wide eyes as the regeneration energy engulfs the Doctor's head and neck and shoots straight up to the Dalek ship, utterly destroying it. The force of the blast causes Rose to fall from the ledge and she grips the rope, sliding down it as fast as she can.

She ignores the burning friction on her hands from the ropes and just as she nears the bottom she can feel the rope go slack as the belfry is destroyed in the backlash of the regeneration. She gasps and falls to the ground, landing hard and rolling several times before she lies there in pain. When she rolls onto her back before covering her face as a sonic boom washing over her and eviscerates any Daleks that had been on the ground. She feels the heat wash over her but finds it doesn't affect her. She closes her eyes and gives in to her body telling her that it needs a moment before she pushes it further past its limits once again. The crackling sounds of the fires around her lull her into a state of quietness and calm. She doesn't know how long she lies there.

Rose sits up when she feels it's safe to do so, unsure of how much time slipped away from her and she looks up to the belfry, now a smouldering mess of what it once was. She pulls herself slowly to her feet and throws her hands out in front of her to steady herself she begins to walk towards the church, terrified that he didn't make it out. But something catches her attention of her peripheral vision. The TARDIS. She knows he's there. So she turns her attention there and slowly walks towards it, each step sending bolts of pain throughout her body and her heart beats wildly in her chest. She can't even begin to imagine what to expect.

She breaks out into a run…

Rose bursts through the door to an empty console room. She inhales sharply and looks around carefully, trying to spot any imperfection. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. And that's what worries her. She quietly shuts the door with minimal effort. As she ascends towards the console she becomes aware at how loud her heart is pounding within her chest. Almost as though it could burst right through. Her stomach is twisting itself tighter and tighter into knots as she walks into the unknown completely unsure of what to expect when she lays eyes on him. Biting her lip, she wraps her arms around herself and steadies her nerves as she opens her mouth to call his name. But a voice rings out around her. And it shocks her.

'Well now, you remind me of my very attractive companion Rose, however you, miss, are a bit of a hot mess.' He peers around the console, clearly leaning on it, and Rose covers her mouth at his jab and the shock she's feeling and seeing.

However she can't help herself and Rose begins to laugh. Everything concerning the past several hours has melted away because she has her eyes on him. 'Terribly sorry about that,' Rose smiles and feigns the attempt to smooth down her wild hair from the explosion. 'Do I still have dirt on my face?'

The Doctor moves around the console towards her and Rose swallows the tight lump in her throat as he stops in front of her. 'Oh yes, and your hair…' He tucks an unruly piece behind her ear, leaving his hand lingering on her cheek while she smiles brightly yet sadly up to him.

'So sorry, I got caught in an explosion, you know, and I had to jump off a balcony to catch a rope to get down to the ground safely.' Rose flashes her hands that have a deep red burn from where the rope had eaten to them.

'Hm…' He replies and Rose places her hands on his face, studying him carefully. He knows what she wants to ask.

'Tell me, how is this…' She begins but he smiles and shakes his head.

'A delay, but…it's coming…' The Doctor informs her and Rose feels the tears begin to form. She inhales sharply having already made her mind up, she won't allow it to be a repeat of the other times.

'Yeah?' She pulls him down for an ardent kiss. It catches him off guard and takes a moment to respond. She eventually has to push him off of her. 'Then…I want one last thing…'

He understands what she wants and he doesn't know how to answer her, he struggles to find words as she stares at him impatiently. He isn't even sure he has that long. But judging by the sultry gaze she is giving him, he may not have another choice. And…why not indulge her? So if he wants this as well, then why does he feel the way he does? Because he imagines her with the gangster paramour, in bed with her. On top of her, she atop him. He imagines it, thinks it. But she wants this one last thing from him, how can he deny her? She doesn't disgust him, nor does her body, it's just…someone less reputable held her body close to his own, laid a claim to her body. And that hadn't been him. However…he wants her so badly, he can't say or express the word no.

'But…Clara could come in any second…' The Doctor reminds her and Rose arches her eyebrow at him, clearly she hasn't thought of that but her response to him is indicative of her needs and wants.

'Well if that's the case, we'd better get started,' Rose declares and yanks him down to her level by the front of his shirt. He in turn wraps his arm around her waist and presses her tighter to him. He wants this to happen, probably more than she does. Rose abruptly stops and looks up to him, breathing heavily. 'Give me a warning if…you know…'

'I don't know when though…' He begins but Rose interjects, stripping off her shirt and dropping it to the floor, she's expertly moved on to his.

'Then I need you to concentrate, because it'll be very awkward, mostly for me…' Rose presses her lips to his again.

He sees her point, and he wonders why she wants to go through with this little plan but then again she's always been one to take risks, however…he wants to know why, he almost doesn't ask because he can see the desperation in her eyes. It's nagging him and he has to gently push her off of him again. Rose is getting impatient.

'Why?'

'First time, I didn't know and I was scared, second time I wasn't there and didn't get a chance to, this time…I won't let it happen…not this time, we've been through too much together. Way too much for me not to get a proper goodbye…'

He's silent at her reasoning and closes his eyes, and she immediately knows that she's won him over. And so she leads him up the stairs, figuring they won't get much further than the opening of the halls anyway. Rose stops him and embraces him tightly, turning herself to the wall, figuring she's going to need the sturdiness of it. He tilts her chin up to him and kisses her deeply. She isn't ready for this to end…

'Please don't cry…' He begs and so she turns away from him hoping that would be better however instead he turns her gaze back to him and she smiles sadly at him. The tears slide down her cheeks and he gently wipes them away.

'I'm not ready for this…' Rose admits and the Doctor smiles sadly at her. She looks up to him before embracing him tightly and resting her head on his chest. She feels as though they haven't really had enough time to get to know him.

'Yeah, I've gathered that…' He replies and Rose smiles slightly. 'I never am either, but…there is no hand in a jar to save me from my vanity this time.'

Rose lets out small laugh and looks up to him. 'There isn't…' She agrees and then thinks of something startling. He catches the look in her eyes and frowns. 'What if…what if you don't like me?' Her voice shakes this time and he doesn't get what she means by her question.

'What?' He questions and Rose looks up to him desperately.

'What if you don't like me?'

'I find that highly unlikely, Rose, don't be ridiculous!' The Doctor nearly laughs at her statement but he can see it's a genuine concern in her dark eyes. He cups her face and when she closes her eyes, the tears slide down her still flushed cheeks. 'You have nothing to worry about…'

Rose wipes her tears away, not wanting to dwell on the fear she has bubbling within her. An unfounded fear she knows, and strangely she can't help but think like that. Is it because of how close they are, how intimate they have been? How it carried over even after they had been reunited, that after some time has passed, they fell into old patterns that they had started earlier? She worries that after…he just won't want to. It'll be someone new, and while she wouldn't and couldn't force anything on him, to not have the relationship they had fostered over many, many years, she's unsure if she could handle it. She isn't sure if she could ignore her feelings for him, shoving her love and adoration into a ball, hiding it, never touching it.

It's a lottery, she heard him refer to it like that, you win some and you lose some. She is so terrified that he will become someone with just a known name to her. After all that…could things really go back to when they first met? And that of course is ignoring the fact that she's changed. She's so different now than when they first met, what if he doesn't like her? Even thinking about that causes great anxiety to form within her and she desperately tries to change the subject, but finds the sad words tumble out of her mouth before her brain gets a chance to think about them.

'I had so many things that I wanted to do with you…' She bites her lip and he smiles at her, a meagre attempt to cheer her up.

'Yeah? Like what?'

'We never got to see Zeppelin together…' Rose points out and he widens his eyes feeling awful they never made time for that. She had begged and begged him to take her to see them, and his response had been stupid. He dislikes reneging on promises he's made to her.

'We can still do that…'

'Can we?' Rose wonders and he nods his head at her, a silent oath. 'I'd love to see Stevie Nicks…'

'Fleetwood or solo?' The Doctor questions feeling immensely relieved that she seems to have moved passed the grief and uncertainty…even for a moment.

'Why not both?'

'We'll go, I promise.'

'I believe you…' Rose breathes and presses herself tighter to him knowing the moment is drawing closer, it could be any moment now that she could be embracing a different man, some stranger to her, however he wouldn't be a stranger for long. 'I love you, without beginning and without end, without fear…'

'You know I do as well, Rose…' The Doctor replies and when she kisses him fervently once more it takes everything in him to ignore the feelings burning within him because he can feel it creeping closer. He gently pries her off of him. 'It's getting closer…'

The sound of the TARDIS door prevents Rose from answering. They both turn in the direction of it and look up to one another. Clara has finally made it back and Rose reluctantly pushes herself off of him. She's sad their moment has to be shared. The first time, when it was just the two of them, she hadn't understood, the last time he was alone and that broke her heart, this time he wouldn't be.

'How do I look?' Rose wonders and notices that her shirt is on backwards, she quickly removes it and dons it properly again. As he effortlessly slides on his own, Rose notices that trail of nail marks she had left on his back that had been there moments ago are suddenly gone. It serves to drive the point home further. This is the end.

'Honestly?' He wonders and Rose smiles sadly. 'Still my hot mess.' He smiles at her wild hair and the smudged dirt that hasn't left her face, merely stuck because of the fine layer of sweat that still clings to her body.

'Ah, perfect…' Rose pauses and inhales deeply. 'Kiss me hard before you go…' She pleads and he indulges her request. He shoves her forward. She breaks away and walks towards the archway, walking down the stairs as Clara greets her first.

'Is he…?' Clara wonders and Rose steps out of the way as he walks down the stairs and he can see the elation in Clara's eyes. She covers her mouth with her hands and when she drops her hands to her side he can see the wide grin.

'You're young again. You're okay. You didn't even change your face.' Clara rushes over and embraces him tightly. She frowns and pulls away when he doesn't hug her back. He puts his hands on her shoulders and holds her at arms length. She doesn't like the look in his sad eyes. She glances to Rose who is looking away, but there are tears running down her cheeks.

'It's started. I can't stop it now. This is just the reset. Whole new regeneration cycle is taking a bit longer. Just breaking it in.' He explains and begins to walk around the console. Rose gets out of his way but lunges to grab him when he begins to lose his balance. She holds him tightly as he grips the console. He pulls down on a lever and it sets the TARDIS into motion.

'But…' Clara begins however she falls silent when he reappears around the other side of the console.

'It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a coming.' He replies and Clara frowns.

'Who's coming?'

'The Doctor.'

'You…you are the Doctor.' Clara states firmly but notices that her voice trembles. The Doctor gives her a smile before he bends over in pain and Rose rushes to his side, placing her hand on his back and he straightens up slowly, gripping her chin and she merely stares at him.

The Doctor turns back to Clara, pressing on as if nothing had happened. 'Yup…and I always will be,' He holds up his hand and it begins to glow with energy. Rose presses her lips together and finds herself holding her breath. 'But times change…and so must I.'

'No fear…' Rose attempts an uneasy smile and he nods his head, inhaling deeply. He takes her hand tightly and Rose moves a piece of hair that has fallen into his eyes, she stares at him and waits. He wants to ask her something. She can tell.

'Rose…I just have to know…'

'Yes…?'

'Do you forgive me?' He questions and she frowns.

'Forgive you?' Rose echoes and the Doctor nods his head deeply. Rose stares at him concerned and confused.

'Yes.'

'What for?'

'For everything…every damned thing that happened to you that was my fault in my last regeneration…I just have to know…so the guilt won't follow me, won't bleed through. Not like this time.' The Doctor questions and Rose feels her heart breaking. She walks towards him and doesn't brush the tears away as they fall.

'Oh…Doctor…' Rose places her hands on his cheeks and Clara looks away to give them privacy. 'From the moment you pushed that hat off my head in Mercy and our eyes met…I forgave you…'

'Good…thank you…' He has a sigh in his voice, he brushes her tears away with his thumb and Rose holds his hand to her cheek as she studies his face carefully.

He didn't ask her for an apology for what she'd done. And she didn't provide him with one. She had nothing to apologise for when she chose to be with Charlie. Her life, her choices, even if he didn't agree with them. But damned right he owed her an apology and she was being damn truthful when she said she had forgiven him. She didn't forget, it was impossible to, but she had forgiven him. Look at what he had given her for doing that.

Abruptly he pushes her off of him and she knows that it could be any second now. He turns his head as though he's heard something. Rose looks to where he is but she can't see anything. She can see that his eyes are following something and his eyes land at the top of the stairs.

'Amelia?' He breathes and his face clouds over in confusion when she disappears. Rose buries her face into her hands, weeping silently, shoulders shaking as Clara is also carefully watching the top of the stairs, but like Rose she can see nothing. And unlike Rose, she misses the significance of that name.

'Who's Amelia?' Clara wonders and the mention of Amelia's name brings a small smile to the Doctor's face out of remembrance and longing. Because he's never stopped missing her, even if there was nothing to be done, he continued to want her here with them. He holds his hand out in the air and lets it linger there for a moment before he drops it.

'The first face this face saw,' The Doctor explains, he grips Rose's hand tightly, staring at her. 'We all change…when you think about it. We're all different people through our lives. And that's okay, that's good, you've got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me.'

'No, no…' Clara begs and shakes her head deeply as the tears fall. The Doctor gives her a small reassuring smile.

'Hey…' He attempts to comfort her but Clara inhales deeply and continues to shake her head at him.

'Please don't change…' She begs but he shakes his head. A small apology to her because it is something that he can't avoid any longer, the time is drawing closer. Rose moves carefully to be closer to him and he pauses for a moment.

He turns to look at Clara and Rose before he pulls off his bow tie, and smiles as he holds it out in front of him before he drops it to the ground. Rose is devastated and when they lock eyes again, she wants one last kiss from him to offer a small sense of comfort to him before he goes. As she rushes towards him, having moved to the other side of the console, however he keeps her at arms length, unsure of what will happen.

Rose doesn't care and she moves around him to grab the front of his shirt as he stares at her and shakes his head, silently telling her to stay away, for her own safety. However she ignores him and the moment she brings her lips to his, he closes his eyes and the last physical thing he feels before he lets go is her lips touching his even for the slightest second.

She feels the change the moment their lips meet and when Rose opens her eyes instead of the green ones she has been so used to seeing have been replaced with icy blue ones, she widens her own. She gasps and begins to pull herself away from him…but he holds her in place by keeping his hands on her arms firmly. Rose finds herself unable to look away as they take the first few moments to get reacquainted with one another. She begins to breathe heavily, as the realisation begins to drive itself home however she continues staring at him, strangely lost for words. He moves his hands from her arms to cup her face and tilt her head from side to side watching her eyes watch him. She grows a little dizzy and puts her hands on his to stop him moving her head further. In a surprising move, something Rose hadn't expected, his thumb brushes her lips, a tender motion, and he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. And yet she finds herself unable to move, stuck physically, emotionally and mentally in the past. These precious moments between them should have been used properly, maybe they had…they stared at one another for an awfully long time. He still hasn't taken his eyes off her.

Without warning he pushes her back and doubles over in what appears to her as pain and she begins to rush towards him to help but he stands up clutching his middle and Rose stares at him with wide eyes. 'Kidneys! I've got new kidneys. I don't like the colour.' He declares and Rose feels her mouth open in astonishment.

Clara blinks the shock from herself and frowns. 'Of your kidneys? What's happening?'

The TARDIS shudders abruptly and throws everyone off balance, everyone stumbles around frantically searching for something to hold on to while they attempt to ascertain what's going on. The Doctor looks around and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes fall on the blonde woman briefly as she stares at the ceiling, watching carefully. The dark hair girl is scared, but the blonde is calculating. He turns back to the dark haired girl.

'We're probably crashing!' He surmises and watches the dark haired girl's eyes become like saucers. She holds onto the console tighter. 'Oh!'

'Into what?!' The girl shouts frantically and the Doctor rushes to her side briefly before he looks around to the blonde who has picked something up off the floor, but he can't see what. It doesn't matter so he turns back to the brunette; she needs the more reassurance now, anyway.

'Stay calm,' He demands and pauses. Clara watches him look around and when his eyes fall on her once more his question drives an icy ball into her stomach. 'Just one question.'

'Yeah?'

'Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?' The Doctor wonders and Clara waits to see if he'll tell her he's merely jesting with her. But he stares at her deeply while he waits for her answer. Oh god, he's not joking. He's truly forgotten. Clara frantically shakes her head.

'Of course not! Why do you think I'd know…' Clara wonders hysterically before pausing and turns over to the only silent member still left among them. Clara points to her. 'No…but she does.'

The Doctor turns to where the blonde has tied her hair up with the object she's found on the floor and he rushes over to her. Rose stares at those icy blue eyes, silent as they continue to study one another.

'You can fly this thing?' He questions seriously and Rose nods her head, a small smirk on her lips. He watches her move around the console with haste in an attempt to gain back control.

'Yes,' Rose replies and he watches her work. Clara hangs on desperately and Rose can instantly tell the TARDIS is putting up one hell of a fight. 'Hang on!'

The Doctor holds on to the console and watches the blonde work. He wonders about her the most. There is a connection with her that he can tell is deep and is different from the one the dark haired girl has. But he can't remember their names, why? The blonde is trying to save their lives and he can't thank her properly.

Rose pulls a lever and can feel his gaze upon her. She focuses on the task at hand, numbing her emotions and feelings about him and the regeneration until they are safely out of this precarious situation. Rose presses her lips together the harder she detaches herself. Conceal…hide everything. She can deal with it later. Much later.

Well Doctor…here we go again…

It's all done. Finally. Wow. What can I say? Another series down. Here's to series eight. I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter completed, what with the extended story of The Moll. I slipped into a bit of writing slump. Got some reviews for other stories that kinda put me down a bit so that's why it's taken me so long. That and of course my jobs. Things like that. But it's done, right, so that's good.

What did you guys think? Sorry for the Rose and Charlie beginning but they are so much fun to write and who doesn't love writing in that era? I can promise you that Charlie and Rose do get back together. In person and in guise.

That being said I have a lot of original stories already partially written thanks to my little slump about finishing this final chapter that I can't wait to publish for series eight. I have only seen the first episode, so I know I'm behind. But I will give away this: I know Rose will be taking a bit of a break from travelling for a while. I do have so many ideas. Many of which are a bit…devious. What did you guys think about this chapter?

Hopefully it won't take months before I get the next story up and going but then again I can't promise anything. Thanks again for sticking around to the end with me.