Beta: natural-blues, who is utterly fantastico ;).

Ageless, Timeless

Part Two

The Doctor practically bounced out of the bookstore as though walking on trampolines, beaming enough to gain him some odd looks. Under his arm were tucked two first-edition copies of David Copperfield and Oliver Twist— his intended gift to Rose, for the previous night (and because she would surely hug him). Oh, he couldn't wait to see the delighted grin that would most certainly bless her lovely face when he presented them to her! He wanted to get her Great Expectations as a third, since the one she had was in awful condition (had it really been necessary for that Jimmy arse to write swear words all over it?) but he'd run out of psychic bills and the only money he had left were Euros.

Over the chattering of the crowd passing him on the sidewalk, the Doctor heard a small cry of pain with his superior hearing. Frowning, he looked in a complete circle but saw no instance of anybody being hurt. Then he heard it again, and this time he recognised it. It was Rose. Shoving the books into his pockets, the Doctor followed the sounds with an anxious pace until they grew louder, before they stopped altogether. As he approached an electronics store, the sounds of male grunting and what sounded horribly like flesh being hit met the Doctor's ears. He turned into an alleyway and hurried towards the source.

His hearts nearly jumped out of his throat. Rose was lying on the ground some metres away, unconscious and covered head to toe in blood and bruises. The man the Doctor had once seen Rose with outside of the pub was snarling, lip curled over his teeth as he sank his foot into her ribs.

"Thought you could just up an' leave an' there wouldn't be no consequences, stupid bitch?" Jimmy was saying, and upon kicking her in the ribs again the alley was filled with a sickening crack.

"ROSE!" shouted the Doctor, hurling himself towards Jimmy.

Jimmy looked up at the oncoming Doctor and sneered despite him. "Oh, look, it's the old ma—"

Jimmy sentence went unfinished when the Doctor, eyes fiery with fury, brought back his fist and connected it with Jimmy's jaw. The younger man went flying, hitting his head on the brick wall behind him and slumping down unconscious. The Doctor paid him no heed and dropped to his knees next to Rose, cradling her face with his hand. Her lips was split, there was a large bump swelling on her cheek next to the old one and her right eye was turning violet, and his eyes rimmed with tears at the sight of her.

"Rose, darling, wake up," he pleaded, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

She mumbled something and opened her eyes, bloodied brown gaze meeting his terrified olive one. "M-my Doctor?"

He cried out with relief. "Yes, Rose, it's me, your Doctor."

She squeezed her eyes shut and frowned, mumbling deliriously, "Don't think 'm gonna make it to the park today, Doctor."

He laughed through his tears, swiping them away with his free hand. "That's all right, love."

Despite the situation the Doctor flinched at the endearment that had slipped out, but she smiled and hummed contentedly at it. Her smile faded soon as she began to drift back into unconsciousness, despite the Doctor shouting her name for her to stay awake. When she went completely limp he carefully but quickly scooped her up off the ground and jogged like a madman out of the alley with her cradled in his grip, ignoring the cries and gasps of shock coming from the crowd at the sight of Rose.

"Somebody, call an ambulance at once!" he shouted, and a good Samaritan whipped out their mobile and dialled the hospital.

He was well aware of Jimmy's groans of pain in the back alley as he stirred back into consciousness, but instead of going back and murdering him, the Doctor concentrated on Rose. Jimmy would have to wait; for now, the Doctor prayed as the ambulance drove off that he would not lose the woman he now knew he had fallen in love with.

Rose felt heavy as lead as she drifted out of her sleep. The light above her head was too bright, and she tried to lift an arm to turn it off, but the moment she tried to move her entire body was wracked with pain. As she groaned with confusion and found that even that gesture hurt, the sounds of someone stirring next to her met her ears.

"Rose?" whispered the Doctor's voice, sounding strangely echo-ey.

She tried to gasp in shock — what on Earth was the Doctor doing in her bedroom? — but the gesture made her ribs stab with pain. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose, I'm here," he said quickly, and Rose felt his hand wrap around hers.

"Hurts," she whimpered.

She felt his other hand sweep over her sweaty forehead, brushing away strands of her hair. "Where does it hurt, darling?"

Did he just call her 'darling'? "Everywhere. Hurts to breathe."

Before he could answer, there was a loud shriek from what was definitely her mother, making her head feel like it was splitting in two. "My baby's awake!"

She felt the Doctor quickly let go of her hand, and in her haze Rose tried to chase it and seize it back, but her arm hurt too much to lift. She tried to wince out when her mother's hand replaced the Doctor's and jostled her arm, but a sharp pain shot from her ribs up her oesophagus and her cry got stuck in her throat. "Mum?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm here," choked out Jackie's panicky-sounding voice. "Mummy's here."

Rose blinked, trying to adjust to the bright overhead light. If the Doctor and her mum were in the same place, maybe she'd collapsed during dinner? But no, she remembered saying goodbye, getting up the next morning and heading out to see him in the park. Then she remembered Jimmy, and a jolt of shock like electricity made her bolt upright in, nearly clocking her mother in the forehead before Rose had to double over at the pain she'd just caused herself. Ignoring her mum's insistence of laying back down, Rose swept her eyes over the room. She was in a cold, white room that smelled of antiseptic; there was a curtain round her bed, blocking out the light coming from the window, Jackie was by her bedside with her hair askew and make up running, and in the corner were two black, uncomfortable-looking chairs and a pale, stricken Doctor. There was a needle in her arm and a tube leading from it to an IV bag hung on one of those hook things Rose only ever saw on the telly.

"'M in a hospital," Rose said aloud, noticing how, when her eyes fell on the Doctor, he suddenly became interested in his shoes. "Jimmy..."

The Doctor cleared his throat suddenly, making Rose jump (and wince), still not looking at her. "I'll just... er..." He pointed abruptly to the door before practically throwing himself out of it.

Rose blinked, trying to fight down the urge to call after him, and unwittingly her hand flew up so she could chew on her thumb nervously, which she ceased at once when she noticed how sliced up her hand already was. Her gaze licked over the spectrum colours of violet, indigo, navy and in some cases even crimson painted up her arms, making what little skin she had that wasn't bruised look pasty.

"Sweetheart," Jackie said quickly, noticing Rose was starting to panic. "You're fine. You're gonna be all right, the doctors said."

"Mum," Rose squeaked out, voice at least an octave higher but still somehow managing to sound firm even though tears were threatening to start. "Tell me everything that happened."

"J-Jimmy—" Jackie choked, before gulping. "The wanker ambushed you when you were on your way to see that Doctor, yeah? Only you was lucky, 'cos the Doctor was passin' by an' he saved you. Saved your life, he did. An' hit Jimmy right in the kisser, too!"

Rose tried to chuckle through her tears, but the action hurt, so she said, "An' then?"

"Jimmy's in jail, now," Jackie said, sniffing and nodding seriously. "Right where he belongs. An' he won't get out for ages, him."

"Then how come everybody's acting like I'm dead?" Rose said frantically, before slumping with shock when Jackie all but wailed at her words. "Oh my God. I did, didn't I? I died."

Taking a moment to sob into her daughter's hand, Jackie pulled herself together before crying, "Oh Rose, you were clinically dead for three minutes!"

Either it was her injuries, or Rose was so shocked she couldn't see straight, but either way the room began to spin. No wonder the Doctor ran. He must have seen Jimmy hitting her, been terrified of being alone again... maybe even watched her die.

But he saved her.

Rose lifted her head a little at that, before realising her mum had starting sobbing into the linen sheets again and giving her hand a squeeze. "Mum, look at me." Jackie obliged, face covered in tears and streaked mascara. Rose did her best to smile, feeling her lip split but paying it no mind. "I'm alive, I'm fine. The Doctor saved me."

More tears fell at that. She always knew he would save her. She just didn't expect it to be like that. "Yeah, he did," Jackie snuffled. "Brilliant man, him."

Rose nodded in agreement, giving her usual tongue-touched grin both to get her mum's spirits up again, and to lick away the blood from her split lip. Hesitating now that her mum wasn't sobbing like a lunatic, Rose added, "Um, what exactly were my injuries? Besides the obvious, I mean."

Jackie wiped her face and pursed her lips in concentration. "You've got, um, a cracked skull, they said, an' two fractured ribs that punctured your spleen. That's what... that's what made you..." She trailed off. Rose tried to exhale a sigh of relief but found yet again that it didn't agree with her ribs— all of those things would heal over time. Her relief was short-lived, however, when Jackie added quietly, "They had to operate. Been giving you transfusions for a bit 'till you could function by yourself. An' you've been asleep for three days."

"Three days?!" Rose gasped, before yelping in pain.

Jackie nodded, before managing a small, softening smile. "An' the Doctor's never left your side once, I reckon. That Susan girl visited a couple times after school, but he hasn't budged as far as I know."

Rose pressed her mangled hands to her mouth, tears spilling over her cuts and making them sting. She tried repressing her sobs but found it hurt too much, and then tried to let them out but found that hurt as well. So did the knowledge her mother had just gifted her with. She really was all he had besides Susan. And she nearly died.

And now there was no doubt in her mind that she was in love with him.

A nurse came in, noticing her tears and mistaking them for tears of pain, and asked if she wanted a sedative. Rose at first didn't wish to be conked out while the Doctor was in the building, but her head started to ache from her injuries and her sobbing (and her realisation) so, closing her mouth, she nodded tearfully without looking up. Letting her mum help her back into a comfortable lying position, Rose watched the nurse inject fluid into her IV bag.

"Mum?" Rose said, feeling herself already start to sink into sleep.

"Yes, love?"

"Tell th'Doctor..." she mumbled, but couldn't manage the rest of her sentence out.

Tell the Doctor I love him.

Rose woke again with a jolt from a dream involving Jimmy forcing her down on the pavement and pushing bits of wood into her skin, only to smother a yelp of pain when she actually did feel like she was embedded with splinters. The room was dark and Rose waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the moon before taking a look around. There was no sign of her mother anywhere, but in the nearest spindly black chair was a hunched-over Doctor with his chin resting on his clasped hands and a face betraying a torrent of negative emotion. Rose frowned, reached over despite the stiffness of her arm and slipped her hand in between his closed ones, making him jump.

"How come you look so sad?" Rose whispered, and his wide eyes went back to sadness.

"I promised I would not let him hurt you," he mumbled, staring at a hole in the linen sheets. "I failed, Rose, he..."

Rose shushed him gently, wanting to reach up and run her hands through his hair but refraining. "Doctor, you saved my life."

"No I didn't. You were dead."

"'M not now, though, am I?"

He looked for a moment like he was going to protest but decided against it, whether or not it was because her words had worked or because he thought he oughtn't argue with an injured woman. Rose smiled at him, careful not to split open her lip again, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I just have a question," she said, poking her tongue between her teeth.

His eyes flickered to it and back up, face softening a bit at the gesture. "Oh?"

She bit her lip to try and hide the ever-growing grin. "Did you really punch Jimmy in the face?"

He drew himself up, looking so proud of himself that Rose just had to laugh no matter how much it hurt. "I most certainly did."

"Wish I'd seen it, bet you clocked him something good," she grinned.

"Well, I did try my very best," he drawled, giving her a knowing smile and looking a hundred times more cheerful.

At least, until she sobered when remembering what her mum had said about how long he'd been by her side since she'd first arrived, and without thinking she mumbled, "Doctor, maybe you should go home." He flinched, looking terrified, and Rose suddenly realised how harsh she'd sounded. "No, I just meant... you don't need to stay. I'll be all right. You should get some rest."

He looked like he was going to protest, but one sharp no-nonsense look from Rose and he sighed, trying not to pout like a petulant child as he reluctantly rose from his seat. "Very well. Good night, Rose."

Rose watched the Doctor walk towards the door, biting her lip with the effort not to call him back and beg him to stay. Instead she said, "See you tomorrow?"

The Doctor paused, halfway through the door, before turning his head and beaming at her. "Of course."

At her request he left the hospital for the first time in nearly five days, his dread growing with each step further away from her he took. It wasn't just the crippling grief that he'd failed to protect her as he'd promise, it was also the irrational fear that Jimmy would go back and finish her off. As silly as the prospect was, since the Doctor knew full well he was in jail (and since the Doctor and Jackie had agreed that they going to make absolutely certain he wouldn't get out for at least ten years) he kept envisioning scenarios in which Jimmy would sneak up to her room and kill her in various ways, the most horrifying being choking her to death. He was practically hyperventilating by the time he reached the TARDIS, and the only reason he didn't sink into a ball on the floor was because of the calming hums his brilliant ship sent over his chaotic mind. Slumping against the console, the Doctor stared at the time rotor with tired eyes. Had anyone told him a month ago that he would be in love with a human woman to the point of crippling pain, he would have told them they were barking. He'd never been in love before, certainly not with a human who had every possible opportunity to die in the stupidest of ways without the ability to regenerate.

She'd been dead. For three minutes and twenty-four point nine seconds, she'd been just a functionless body, and the things that made her Rose Tyler were gone. He'd stood in front of the glass window, next to a wailing Jackie Tyler, and watched the life drain out of her, heard the flat line of the monitor. Three minutes later the sound of steady beeping had been the most beautiful sound in all the multiverse.

He shook his head like a dog trying to dry off, refusing to think of just how close he'd come to losing her and forcing himself to look forward to tomorrow. She wanted him to return, when she should hate him for not protecting her. Of course she did; she was too good at heart to hate anyone, even him.

The TARDIS hummed almost disapprovingly for his thoughts, and he scowled at the ceiling, argumentative words already on his tongue; but before he could voice them the TARDIS sent him an image of the two Charles Dickens books he had at the bottom of his pocket. Jumping, the Doctor shoved his hand into his transdimentional pockets and withdrew Oliver Twist and David Copperfield, staring at them. Amidst the panic and near-tears and possibility of loss, he'd forgotten all about the books that may well have saved her life— had he not gone to buy them, he would have been waiting in the park the whole while Jimmy was beating her.

Tomorrow he would present them to her, as apology/intended gifts. Maybe, if he were lucky, she'd let him read them to her. The TARDIS changed her pitch to something akin to delight and he nodded to the empty room, feeling considerably calmer.

Rose woke bright and early despite her restless night, both from excitement over the Doctor's impending visit and because her ribs were aching. She declined the nurse's offer of morphine but accepted the plate of food, as she hadn't eaten in ages. It wasn't half bad despite the numerous instances where she'd heard hospital food was awful, and Rose even shared her Jell-O with Jackie to prove it. It wasn't until the Doctor arrived, looking nervous and holding something behind his back, that Jackie winked at her daughter and left them to have their 'alone time', as she put it.

"Hello." Rose grinned at him.

The Doctor grinned back, all nervousness forgotten as he stepped into the room. "Hello."

She cocked her head to the side when he didn't remove his hidden hands. "What d'you have there, then?"

He positively beamed, hurrying over to her bedside, plopping down in the black chair and looking for all the world like a child eager to show off. "I have something for you."

Rose smiled, tongue in teeth again. "Yeah?"

He nodded, before dramatically whipping his hands back around to his front, holding out two leather-bound books. Rose blinked at them and accepted them, running her hands over the leather and raising an eyebrow at him.

"Open them, darling," he chuckled.

Rose blushed and smiled with delight at the endearment — he had said it! — and obediently opened the cover of the first page. Her mouth fell open in shock at the title page, and she snapped her head up to gawk at him. "This is… that's…" She swallowed down tears and, dropping the books into her lap, tossed her arms round his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

He reciprocated just as desperately as though starved for her touch, holding her close despite the awkward angle, and she could have sworn he was pressing his lips to her temple. "I figured you needed something other than that severely mistreated copy of Great Expectations."

She laughed tearfully into his shoulder. "Yeah, that thing's nearly in pieces." She drew back, barely, and kissed his cheek, shocking him. "Thank you, Doctor."

He flushed at the gesture, repressing the urge to lift a hand and touch the burning spot where she'd kissed. "You're very welcome."

She leaned back and beamed at her books, before handing David Copperfield to him. "Read to me?"

He chuckled. A woman after his own hearts. "Of course, darling."

It was the fourth time he'd called her 'darling', a dangerous term of affection, but Rose seemed to welcome it so he didn't think much of it save for the delighted thrill of her permission. Obediently he opened the book, turned to the first page and cleared his throat. "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show…"

Every day for the next three weeks, the Doctor arrived early in the morning where she would be propped up in bed, already waiting for him (eagerly, if the way she snapped her head up and beamed when he entered the room was any indication). Her copy of Oliver Twist would be locked away in a cabinet for safekeeping, and David Copperfield would be set next to her bedside, all set and ready for him to pick up and read. They'd chat the day away, occasionally sharing Rose's lunch which the Doctor liked to insult, and then when night fell Rose would snuggle into her pillow and fall asleep to his voice reading aloud the adventures of David Copperfield.

The subject of proximity began on the third day, in the middle of narrating the tenth chapter, when Rose suddenly tugged on his sleeve. He stopped reading aloud and looked down at her with confusion. "What is it?"

"C'mere," she insisted, scooting over and patting the empty space next to her.

He swallowed and opened his mouth to utter a million excuses why that would not be prudent, but temptation to be near her overwhelmed any relatively good excuse (not that there were any) and, rising from the chair, he sat next to her on the bed. As she slipped her arm round his and snuggled into it, he tried not to hum with delight and continued to read.

It took a day and a half for him to relax in his new allowed position, and another two hours for him to get used to reading whilst Rose's scent was bombarding his nose.

A week of this behaviour led to the tentative arm wrapping round her shoulders instead of it being hugged to her body. Rose seemed to agree with this all the way, sighing softly and resting her head on his chest. When she sighed contentedly at Agnes Wickfield's 'unrequited' love to David Copperfield, he spent the rest of the night narrating with a goofy grin on his face.

During the days of the next week, Rose slowly inched her way closer and closer to him until she was all but plastered to his side, and with that it was a miracle he was even able to move his mouth let alone read aloud. He found himself pausing for a brief moment whenever she wriggled unconsciously against his side, trying not to groan before chiding himself in his mind. Rose Tyler was an aphrodisiac or something, making him feel like some kind of randy human teenager instead of a superior Time Lord who didn't engage in silly, base things like intercourse. Although… if she wanted to…

Eventually they wouldn't just cuddle during nights when he read to her— in fact, by her request and to his delight, the first thing she did one day the moment he walked in the door was pat the deliberately empty space next to her. Instead of picking up David Copperfield early, the couple chatted happily in each other's embrace before the Doctor remarked aloud that her bruises were fading.

"They took a while to heal," the Doctor frowned, trailing a finger over her still slightly bruised arm and feeling stupidly pleased with himself when the gesture made her break out in gooseflesh. "But they're starting to yellow now."

"Good. Didn't much fancy lookin' like an eggplant," Rose said, beaming up at him.

"Indeed, you had enough bruises to shame an Indigonian," the Doctor said indignantly, before looking alarmed at his own words.

"And that is what, exactly?" Rose giggled, patting him fondly on the knee.

He cleared his throat, wondering whether or not he should lie before taking one look at her face and deciding otherwise. "Erm, the Indigonians are aliens, twice the size of humans. They have violet-coloured skin with lavender patterns that are unique to one person, and are determined by the genetic codes of the parents, rather like human's eye, hair and skin colours." Rose nodded seriously, looking enraptured by his lecture, and so he continued. "The Indigonians have lidless eyes with white, almost invisible pupils, so they haven't very good eyesight."

"Is their planet called Indigo?" Rose asked, tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth.

The Doctor ignored the urge to swoop down and suck that tongue into his mouth, bopping her on the nose with her finger instead. "Close. It is called Indigon, actually."

Rose shook her head with amazement, grinning. "Blimey, the imagination on you. Could become the next Charles Dickens, I reckon, if you keep that up."

Even though he knew perfectly well he didn't make any of it up, he straightened up and looked smug. "Do you think so?"

"Absolutely."

A question, not previously thought of but suddenly of immeasurable importance, fell from his mouth. "Do you believe in aliens?"

Rose bit her lip contemplatively. "Call me barmy, but yeah, I do."

He was glad she was looking down now, because he was beaming like a nutter. "Really?"

"Yeah. Universe as enormous as ours, we can't possibly be the only sentient life forms out there." She grinned up at him. "For all we know, there's a bunch o' advanced aliens lookin' at us now, and we look incredibly stupid in comparison to them."

The urge to hug her with excitement was suppressed but still present nonetheless, as was the beam that could light up Gallifrey. Rassilon, she was so effing clever! "That's a brilliant hypothesis."

"You reckon?" Rose laughed.

Speaking as a member of that 'bunch o' advanced aliens'— "Of course."

That was the very night the Doctor fell asleep snuggling with her.

Rose woke halfway through the night feeling warm and heavy. Something was pressing against her bottom, and she instinctively wiggled against it before a soft, drawn-out moan breezing against her neck made her freeze. She blinked away the grit of sleep and concentrated hard. Someone was definitely in the bed with her; one leg was twisted between hers, a face was pressed against the back of her neck, an arm was around her waist and a hand was curled around the weight of her breast. One glance down at the arm, which was covered in a familiar black sleeve, told her that the Doctor was spooning her.

Holy fuck. She resisted the urge to go rigid, just in case it woke him and gave him the wrong impression. A kind of fluttery thrill bloomed in her chest — the Doctor was spooning her — before it made way for care. Now that she thought about it, the circles underneath his eyes had been getting darker with each passing day ever since she'd first woken in the hospital. He must have been exhausted. Sighing as quietly as possible, Rose settled into his embrace and snuggled into it, savouring it since it'd never come again. For a moment she could swear she heard a double heartbeat against her back.

Then she remembered the hard thing pressing into her arse, and this time she really did go rigid. Gaping wide-eyed at the blue curtain as though it was going to gape back and say, "I know, right?" Rose experimentally wiggled her bum again, and another gentle groan flitted from his lips. A stab of arousal shot down between her thighs, and she committed this moment to memory. Once she got out of the hospital, this would probably fuel a couple of fantasies and then some.

She doubted herself for a quarter of a second — the wise, conscious Doctor would be appalled at this situation — and tried to slowly wriggle out of his grip, but he moaned long and low and clutched her so desperately to him it made tears well up in her eyes. Okay, maybe he wouldn't be appalled. Just mildly embarrassed.

To use the Doctor's expression: Rassilon, she loved him.

Rose managed to get him to relax his grip with soothing caresses, on what amount of his arm she could reach, and gentle murmurs. Eventually he mumbled something before his grip went lax, his body weight and entanglement now the only thing keeping her to him. Allowing herself the luxury of pressing a kiss to his hand, Rose tangled her fingers with his and went back to sleep.

Waking up nearly on top of Rose Tyler with his leg tossed over her hips and an erection pressing into her bum was definitely something the Doctor never expected to find himself doing.

For the past three and a half weeks, he'd been too scared to go to sleep, as the one time he did he dreamed of Rose broken, bloody and dead in the TARDIS console room, but the comfortable snuggling next to a warm, sleeping and not dead Rose prompted him to drift off into slumber with her. Apparently in his sleep he'd decided he wasn't close enough.

When he did wake and found himself hard and clutching her like the world was ending, the Doctor sat there like a statue for a full twenty minutes trying to properly process what the sodden hell had happened. Holy Rassilon, he wanted her. Well, that was a no-brainer, since she was quite frankly the only thing he wanted in the whole universe next to Susan and his TARDIS, but he actually wanted her. The Doctor would have been grateful for his superior Time Lord biology when he was able to manipulate his system into getting rid of his problem, but since his supposed 'superior Time Lord biology' hadn't helped him from preventing it in the first place, he wasn't.

He forced himself to untangle his body from her, as much as he wanted to stay with her until she woke, and crept out of the room, feeling like every human that he passed in the building was glaring down at him and telling him he ought to be ashamed. Not because he'd had a reaction, but because who the hell was he kidding? Rose Tyler would never want an old-looking thing like him.

And he should know that.

When the Doctor returned at the usual time, Rose pretended like nothing had ever happened. He was evidently trying to do the same, since he sidled into the bed next to her in his custom spot, although she noticed him hesitating before doing so. She tried to show him there were no hard (no pun intended) feelings by snuggling up to him straight away.

It was in the afternoon after she and the Doctor had shared Rose's lunch again (and he'd thoroughly insulted the 'pitiful excuse of palatable nourishment' called Jell-O) that the nurse came in and announced that she was fit to leave the hospital. The Doctor all-but beamed at her at the news, although Rose was slightly disappointed since that would mean their snuggling/David Copperfield-filled days would be over. So, upon checking out hand-in-hand with the Doctor, Rose stepped out of the hospital into fresh afternoon London air.

The Doctor suggested they surprise Jackie with this development and maybe Susan as well, as she hadn't had time to visit since her final exams were coming up. Rose hummed with agreement; only-half listening since she was hoping that hand-holding would become a habit for them.

Jackie all but screamed when she answered the door and saw them standing there (still holding hands, despite the Doctor's clearly flushed face) and refrained from scooping her daughter into the bear-hug she clearly wanted to give just in case Rose was still in pain. After a long-winded rant to Bev on the phone Jackie ended up inviting the Doctor in, making them both dinner as Rose led the Doctor into the living room and showed him EastEnders and he finally understood what had been so funny at dinner last month.

Jackie hadn't been visiting her daughter in the hospital as often as she wanted to, and it was because of the Doctor that Rose was presently snuggling with on the chesterfield, laughing at EastEnders with. As terrified as a mother could be when her daughter was flat lining on an operating table before her eyes, whilst she had sobbed her heart out and prayed to God not to take her little girl, the Doctor had stood white-faced like a statue. It'd scared Jackie when she saw him actually shut down like that, all hope leaving his eyes, making him look like the saddest of ghosts.

And then there had been no doubt in Jackie's mind just how much the Doctor was in love with her Rose. It went beyond his thinking she was clever, or his apparent 'loneliness'. That had been Jackie's precise reaction when she'd seen Pete's body after his accident, like the ground beneath her had disappeared and she was falling without anyone to catch her.

As she cut up vegetables and peered over at the bantering couple situated comfortably on the couch, Jackie smiled gently at them and hoped that the Doctor would hurry up and tell Rose how he felt, and vice versa. If there was one thing Jackie had learned, it was that people you loved could be snatched away as easily as drawing in breath, and that every moment of one's life counted.

When the Doctor had dinner with them, left rather grudgingly to make sure Susan had someone to come home to and promised to return tomorrow with Susan, Rose took a long shower, both because she hadn't been able to in ages and to rid herself of the arousal from the previous night's escapades. She came out satisfied and deliciously clean, only to find her best mate since primary school Mickey Smith situated on the couch next to Jackie grudgingly watching an EastEnders rerun. He all but jumped when she entered the room, and with a shout of delight he tossed his arms around Rose's frame.

"Hi, babe," he whispered into her ear.

"Hi Micks," Rose hummed. "Oh, I missed you."

"Me too, babe."

They left the living room so Jackie could watch telly and plopped down on Rose's bed. "How've you been, Micks?"

Mickey shrugged, arms crossed behind his head as he leaned back against Rose's pillows. "Been all right. Managed to scrape up enough quid to go to Spain."

Rose bit her lip. She knew he'd gone on vacation last month, but she hadn't known he'd gone to Spain— the very place Mickey's father, Jackson Smith, had supposedly gone to before never returning again. "How'd it go?"

Mickey shrugged, eyes dark. "Found my dad."

"Yeah?"

He nodded and said, "Shacked up with a rich young Spanish chick. Had another kid with her."

Rose scooted over to him and gave him an awkward hug. "'M sorry, Mickey."

"Don't be," Mickey snorted. "Didn't recognise me at first, 'till I clocked him something good from me an' Mum. Told my half-brother who I was. Don't think Dad's gonna have a perfect home life anymore now that 'Alex Smith' knows what kind of bloke his dad is." Shaking his head, Mickey sat up and scanned over Rose. "'Nough about me. Tell me what went on."

Rose shrugged, playing with her earring. "S'a long story."

"'M here now, babe, even though I wasn't when you was in the hospital." He slung an arm round Rose's shoulder. "Start at the beginning, then."

Breathing in deeply, Rose started into a long monologue about meeting the Doctor after the gig at the pub, about him showing up at Henrik's and their getting into yet another argument (they both shared a chuckle over the Doctor's nosiness), his granddaughter Susan, Jimmy hitting her again, the time she and the Doctor bonded over Charles Dickens, and his reaction to the bruise and Rose's decision to leave Jimmy.

"So, you left Jimmy 'cos of a strange old man flipping out over your bruise?" Mickey asked confusedly.

Rose shot him a pointed look. "I left Jimmy 'cos he's a wanker. The Doctor just helped me see that."

"An' that's another odd thing about him. His name's really 'the Doctor'?"

"Yep."

Mickey snorted again. "'Kay then. So then what?"

Rose flushed to her toes and tried to hide it with her hands. "Um, I made the Doctor dinner."

Mickey started to laugh so hard he nearly rolled off the bed and tears started down his cheeks. Rose waited him out for a full five minutes, looking at her nails until he wiped his eyes and quietened. "Oh, babe, that's hilarious."

"S'not hilarious, an' it wasn't my idea!" Rose insisted. "Mum wanted to thank him for gettin' me to leave Jimmy, so I made dinner for him. And Susan," she added. "So there. Then we made plans to meet in the park again, only when I was on my way Jimmy ambushed me." She lowered her voice for her mother's sake.

"Heard he beat you somethin' awful," Mickey said quietly, tracing her remaining yellowing bruises.

Rose nodded, playing with a hole in her jeans. "The Doctor saved me. Punched Jimmy right in the face, he did."

"Wish I'd seen that!" Mickey chuckled, before sobering. "Jackie said you were..."

"Dead for three minutes, apparently," Rose nodded, trying to act nonchalant about it. "Mum said I had, er, a cracked skull, two fractured ribs an' a punctured spleen."

They sat in silence, Mickey seeming to process this information and Rose fiddling with her earring again. Then, even quieter than before, he asked, "D'you love that Doctor bloke, then?" Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Rose ducked her head and nodded. "An' he's how old again?"

"Fifty-two."

"Blimey, Rose, that's one hell of an age gap."

Rose glared at him. "Mum said the same thing 'till she actually met him. Then she approved."

"Before or after he saved your life?"

"Before."

Mickey whistled. "He must be somethin' fantastic."

Rose tried not to smile like an idiot. "He is, Micks." She sat up straighter and pointed to her shelf with a big smile, where her two beautiful copies of Oliver Twist and David Copperfield (and her haggard old, doodled-on Great Expectations) were situated. "He got me those two."

Mickey's jaw dropped to the ground, and he hurled himself off of the bed and reached towards the book, hastily drawing back his hand as though if he touched them they would turn to dust. "Babe, those are first editions."

"I've heard of that before, but I never knew what it meant," Rose said, frowning with confusion.

"And they're in such bloody fantastic condition..." Mickey muttered, ignoring her. "Rose, these have got to be worth twenty thousand quid, separately."

"The Doctor wouldn't spend that much on me," Rose chuckled, waving it off.

"Clearly, he did," Mickey insisted. "Blimey, these are worth a fortune. What does he do for a living?"

Rose shrugged. "Dunno, didn't ask, but I'm assuming he's a doctor," she said, giving Mickey a look. "You don't actually think that a bloke I met nearly two months ago — who, by the way, hated me at first — suddenly spent forty thousand quid on priceless books for me?"

"Take it to a store, and find out," Mickey said. "Or ask him. Either way, those are insanely expensive, babe."

"Or you could ask him and see that he didn't," Rose said disbelievingly, before her face lit up. "Ooh, we should all get chips! You, me, Susan and him. They're comin' over tomorrow for lunch; Susan's in her exams and doesn't have another one till the end of this week."

Mickey shrugged. "I s'pose... what's the worst that could happen?"

Mickey left ten minutes later and Rose went to bed, imagining the four of them at the chippy in situations ranging from Mickey and the Doctor getting along like best friends to Mickey and the Doctor arguing the finer points of A Child's History of England. Although that last one was the most unlikely, since Mickey hated to read anything other than football scores and alien conspiracy theories on the Internet. Sufficed to say, she wasn't entirely shocked when she ended up falling asleep and dreaming of her two best mates running around a bookshop like children in a candy shop.

Rose snuggled down in front of the telly with her copy of Oliver Twist— she didn't touch David Copperfield, as that was the Doctor's to read to her. She couldn't help but wonder if they really were extremely expensive and spent the whole of her reading time trying not to bend the cover and handling the pages as though they were unimaginably fragile. Her mum was on the phone with Bev for most of the morning, talking extremely loudly about her daughter's new 'beau' who was 'an older genius who at the same time was too daft to tell her how he felt', which Rose overheard and ended up retreating to her room lest her face catch fire.

Mickey arrived first, smirking at her book choice. They waited barely twenty minutes for the Doctor to arrive before Jackie stuck her head into Rose's bedroom and announced that they were here. Mickey dissolved into laughter when Rose hurled herself out of the room and was immediately swept up into tight hugs by the Doctor and Susan (the Doctor even spun her). Everything was fine until Mickey emerged from her bedroom, hand outstretched. The Doctor seemed to stare at him like he was something appalling, but Rose didn't notice because of Susan's prolonged hug.

"Susan, Doctor, this is my mate Mickey Smith," Rose introduced, as the Doctor grudgingly shook hands with Mickey and ripped his hand away as though Mickey were a contagious germ. "I thought we could all go out for chips."

"Sounds lovely," Susan said, smiling at Rose before noticing the muscle jumping in her grandfather's jaw. "Grandfather?"

"Yes, yes, lovely indeed," he muttered, hastily grabbing Rose's hand to her delight and Mickey's confusion. "Off we go, then, darling."

The walk there would have been awkward had Rose noticed the tension between her two best mates. They were situated on either side of her, Rose swinging the Doctor's hand as she walked and Mickey continuing to bump his hip into hers. Mickey was torn between smirking knowingly and looking a bit put out while the Doctor was scowling at the pavement and pretending to listen to Rose's chatter.

When they reached the chippy, the Doctor's mood was elevated ever so slightly when he remarked loudly how unbelievably unhealthy deep-fried potatoes were ("Honestly, why choose one of the healthiest vegetables on the planet if all you're going to do is soak it in carbohydrates?") and Rose giggled and patted him on the chest. It didn't last long, however, since Mickey seemed to have an agenda and started being a lot more handsy than normal with her, and the two men had a silent war over who could touch Rose the most without pushing the boundaries. Rose did hold the Doctor's hand under the table and patted him fondly on the chest or the knee with her free hand whenever he said something rude or silly (which seemed to be quite often), but Mickey managed to coax her to put her leg up in his lap and that seemed to seriously irk the older man.

Eventually the Doctor had had enough of mute battles because, upon popping a chip into his mouth, he said airily, "What is it you do for a living, Rickey?"

"S'Mickey," Mickey muttered, while Rose gave the Doctor another fond pat on the thigh and shared a smirk with Susan. "'M a mechanic."

"He just came back from Spain," said Rose happily, licking vinegar off her fingers. "Wish I could go to Spain."

"How 'bout you, Doctor...?" Mickey said inquisitively, eyes narrowing.

"Just the Doctor," he sniffed, tugging at his lapels and frowning when Rose giggled at the action. "I would have thought my name might have triggered something."

"You're actually a doctor? Of what?"

"Of many areas. I'm quite clever, you know."

Rose rolled her eyes and smirked, upon rising from her seat the Doctor's hand instinctively tightened on hers, but she said, "Just poppin' off to the loo."

"I'll join you," Susan said, getting up as well while tossing her empty chip box into the bin.

Rose gave the two of them a stern look when they grimaced at the prospect of being left alone with each other. "An' behave, you two. Don't think I haven't noticed."

At least they both had the decency to look sheepish when Rose turned and walked off with Susan. Mickey waited until the two of them were out of sight before rounding on the Doctor. "All right, mate, here's the sitch. Clearly Rose loves you—"

"I hardly think that's any of your business, Rickey," interrupted the Doctor smoothly, though he turned faintly pink.

"Mickey."

"Rickey."

"It's Mickey," he ground out. "Dunno what the hell she sees in you, ya rude old sod—"

"OI!"

"— but she's completely over the moon for you," he continued, glaring at the Doctor. "An' you don't seem to be anythin' like Jimmy. Just, if you break her heart, I'll kick your arse."

"Noted," snorted the Doctor, who knew perfectly well this human couldn't possibly 'kick his arse'.

Mickey glared, before adding, "Rose doesn't know those books you bought her are first editions."

The Doctor's I'm-superior-to-you expression faded into withdrawn quietness. "I thought not."

"Blimey, mate, you must love her somethin' awful," Mickey sighed. "Spendin' all that on books for her." He gave the Doctor a stern eye. "S'obvious that you love her too. You called her darling. Saw your face when I came out of her room. You thought we were shaggin', didn't ya?" The Doctor turned red and mumbled something incoherent, wringing his hands under the table. "Anyway, me an' Rose've been mates since we were in nappies. Had a crush on her about six years ago, but she swanned off with Jimmy an' I met my girlfriend Martha. Haven't told Rose yet."

The Doctor nearly laughed at his own silliness. He'd been silently fighting this stupid human for Rose's attention when he'd been secretly engaged the whole time!

Soon after Rose emerged with Susan, beaming when she saw the Doctor and Mickey smiling at each other instead of sneaking glares whenever they thought she wasn't looking. They spent another hour in the chippy, everyone getting along smoothly now. Rose screamed and hurled her arms around Mickey's neck when he told her of his girlfriend and possibly soon-to-be fiancée, Martha Jones— older than Rose by only two months; a gorgeous and an aspiring med student who he met in the airport while in Spain. They'd bonded over being the only two Londoners in the whole country and ended up spending most of the trip together. Then the Doctor and Mickey ended up talking mechanical, and Rose and Susan took that time to laugh at them and chat about school and other 'girl things'.

"Oh, and Grandfather gave me the dress," Susan said excitedly, and Rose beamed. "He told me you picked it out. It was lovely!"

"That's great," Rose said happily.

Susan bit her lip for a moment before adding, "Er, Grandfather and I were wondering... prom is in less than a fortnight... and, well, they need chaperones there."

Rose was extremely aware that the Doctor had stopped speaking and was listening, but she couldn't bring herself to so much as pick her jaw up off the table, let alone acknowledge him. "Are you askin' me to go to your prom?"

Susan nodded, looking hopeful. "Grandfather said you'd never had one of your own, and he'll be all by himself otherwise..."

Rose simply blinked, mouth agape as she regarded the little pixie. Never in all of her days had she ever met anyone as sweet, thoughtful and downright good as the Doctor and his Susan. Only once had she ever mentioned not having a prom, and that was when she thought the Doctor was a rude old curmudgeon with a stick up his arse. And here they were, best friends and secretly in love (well, she was anyway) two months later, having gone through so much, and now Susan was inviting her to prom as a 'chaperone' so she could experience it.

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath and trying not to burst into tears, Rose beamed at Susan. "I'd love to, Susan."

Directly next to her, the Doctor's rigid posture melted into butter, and he forced himself to respond to Mickey's question about mechanical engineering while at the same time trying not to grin like a silly buffoon. Not only would he be able to give Rose a gift that couldn't be bought with psychic bills (well, unless you counted the four quid he already paid for her ticket) but he'd be able to dance with her, hold her close. He had never been one for dancing, certainly not at silly human parties, but it was Rose, and so it was something to look forward to.

And he desperately wanted to see her in a dress. That too.

A week and a half later, Susan received the surprise of her life when she knocked on the door, her prom dress and what little makeup brands she owned in a bag, and was met by an onslaught of terrified Rose Tyler.

"SUSAN!" Rose all but screeched, grabbing the little brunette by the wrist and dragging her into the flat.

Susan started, staring at her dishevelled-looking friend, whose hair was wet from the shower. "Rose, what's the matter?"

"I thought I had a dress, but I don't," Rose basically wailed, pointing to a rumpled-looking pink thing laid out on the couch. "I haven't worn a dress in, what, four years?"

"Five," Jackie shouted from the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you, Mum," said Rose sarcastically, before returning her attention to the dress. "S'got mothballs all over it."

Susan collapsed into giggles, unable to help it even when Rose gave her a wolfish glare. "Oh Rose, there's no need to panic," she finally managed, wiping her eyes and handing the bag filled with her things into Rose's hand. "Stay here. I'll be back in a half hour."

"Where are you going?" Rose called, frowning at the retreating Susan.

"To the TAR— I mean, to get you a dress," Susan replied, shutting the door behind her.

Rose stuffed Susan's things into her bedroom next to a giant heap of makeup articles (most of which were her mother's, but she owned a hefty sum of it too) and threw her destroyed pink dress in the trash. Susan reappeared in less than her intended time, another bag swinging on her arm. Rose sincerely hoped Susan hadn't run off to a shop to buy a dress for her, not on the eve of her prom.

"Try this on, then," Susan said, handing her the bag.

Rose gasped as she looked inside at the gown. "Susan, that's... where did you get this?"

"Had it at my place," she said vaguely. "There are shoes in there as well, and the corsage Grandfather picked out for you."

If the Doctor chose it, she would wear it with pride, but for now she wouldn't look at it, wanting it to be a surprise. So, with one last enormous hug to her brunette friend, the two girls headed into Rose's room to do their hair and makeup. Susan ended up relying heavily on Rose for most of her makeup, since she rarely ever used it. Rose noticed she avoided even touching the face powder, not that it mattered what with Susan's perfect, fair complexion. Maybe she was allergic— her mate Shareen's cousin was allergic to all types of foundation.

Rose may have secretly had a little too much fun helping Susan with her makeup. Maybe the prospect of doing the whole prom routine — doing a girlfriend's makeup for her, getting dressed up and going out with a bloke she fancied — was getting to her, but Rose couldn't help but smile fondly at her newfound, younger friend as she carefully traced her eyelid with a make up pen. After several layers of mascara, eyeliner, foundation and gloss for Rose and only a dab of the former two and lippy for Susan, Jackie bustled in when they were done the makeup stage so she could, very expertly, coax Rose's hair into a high French chignon and Susan's into short but lovely curls. Now that the cat was out of the bag, Rose entertained them all by telling Susan about what had transpired in Henrik's the day her grandfather had blundered in. Eventually it was time to turn their backs on each other and shimmy into their dresses.

Then in a flurry of, "Okay, one... two... three... turn!" Susan and Rose spun on their heels and took in the sight of each other. Rose completely squealed at the sight of Susan, beautiful in the fern green knee-high gown her grandfather and Rose had once bonded over (until they fought, again). As Rose had suspected, Susan's presently hunter green eyes were emphasised almost magically.

"Oh, Susan, you're so lovely," Rose sighed, and Susan blushed to her neck.

"Thank you, Rose," the teenager said shyly, before changing her tone to something knowing. "I can't wait for Grandfather to see you."

"Wh—?" Rose started to ask before Jackie barged in on them and screamed so loudly to the point where their neighbour up stairs stomped angry on the floor to get her to shut it.

"Oh, look at you two, you're gorgeous!" the Prentice woman wailed, fussing over them for a full ten minutes before adding, "Ooh, have you got corsages? An' shoes? Put 'em on, lemme see!"

Susan donned a pair of jewelled olive flats before handing Rose a pair of strappy gold heels. Jackie whistled about them being drop-dead sexy before turning her squeals onto Susan's corsage, which consisted of a jewelled lime daisy and a tiny white bow. When it came time for Rose to don the Doctor's chosen corsage, she breathed in deep, closed her eyes and stuck her hand into the bag.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the sight of it. It was gorgeous; two large, real golden roses, touched off by a yellow silk ribbon and a myriad of little shiny, gold leaves.

"Oh, Rose, it's lovely," Jackie sighed, sliding it onto Rose's wrist for her when all she could do was stare at it. "You're gonna knock him dead."

After about a hundred pictures taken by Jackie, they called a taxi, since there was no way they were going on the dirty old Tube dressed like that ("Not only will you get yourself all filthy, but there'll be wankers eye-shaggin' you!" Jackie said shrilly) and the cab driver actually whistled at them when they went in. A bubbling cauldron of nervousness boiled in Rose's stomach the closer they got to Coal Hill School, but she tried to force it down by insisting Susan introduce her to her bloke until Susan went as red as the stop lights.

The Doctor waited nervously in Coal Hill School's gymnasium, dressed in an outfit similar to his everyday one, but a little dressier. He couldn't decide where to stick his hands, whether it was in his pockets or fiddling with his bowtie. Those of Susan's fellow students that had arrived were shooting him glances and whispering behind their hands, only to cower when he glared at them. Rude little apes. None of them would ever be half as clever as his Rose. And then he grew nervous again, thinking of Rose. Every time the door opened, his eyes snapped to it only to have his hearts momentarily sink into his stomach when somebody other than Rose walked in and was greeted by Susan's teachers, Mr. Chesserman (or something like that) and Ms. Wright.

Then his Susan walked in, beautiful in the dress he and Rose had gotten, shaking her teachers' hands and looking thrilled when a handsome student with stick-uppy hair greeted her before whisking her onto the dance floor. He took a moment to grin with grandfatherly pride — his Susan was clearly as smitten with this human as he was with Rose — when his smile dropped off his face and his jaw hit the floor.

She was in the doorway staring starry-eyed at everything. Rose, that is. His vast and frankly magnificent brain short-circuited at the sight of her. She was dressed in a beautiful, ruffle-ended gown with a tantalising V-neck and a shiny ribbon wrapped around her waist. It was gold, looking to the Doctor like the essence of the Time Vortex had latched itself onto this one gorgeous human and wrapped around her body like the most precious of silks. Round her wrist was the corsage he'd spent hours making. He'd gone to Luneflora to have it made, but he'd gone specially to Mount Perdition to pick the golden hybrid of her namesake found only on Gallifrey. She was donning a piece of his home planet on her wrist and she had no idea.

Arkytior.

He snapped himself out of his goggling reverie when Rose's lovely hand was seized by Mr. What's-his-name and shaken vigorously; jealousy reminiscent to what he'd felt when he'd first met Mickey made him swell up and stomp over to them, intent on dragging Rose away. He stopped short before he made a fool of himself when he heard their conversation.

"... thankful that you came, as we're severely short-staffed," Barbara was saying with a kind smile once Ian was finished shaking her hand.

"Susan speaks very highly of you," Ian said, beaming at her.

Rose grinned happily and was about to respond when she felt an arm wrap possessively around her waist, and she turned only to find the Doctor glaring at Ian. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Chatterton."

"Chesterton, sir," Ian said, not looking at all disgruntled by the Doctor's rudeness.

"Chasterman," the Doctor sniffed, leading a giggling Rose away from the confused science teacher.

"You're doing that on purpose," Rose said, patting him affectionately on the arm.

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling," he said with a secret smile, before his endearment made him remember with a jolt that they were at prom and she was standing next to him looking like the flower of the universe. Blushing hard and slipping his hands into hers, he turned to her and said, shakily but earnestly, "Rose... you look magnificent." She blushed all the way down to the swell of her breasts (not that he looked or anything, being a Time Lord) and mumbled her thanks. With that, his confidence boosted, and with a superior smile he asked, "Darling Rose, would you dance with me?"

"I'd love to," Rose said, tongue in teeth as he all but beamed and swept her into his hold. "Are these roses real?" she added, when his eyes landed on the corsage and glowed with delight.

"Yes, darling."

"They're not, like, genetically engineered or something?"

He pulled his hand away briefly to bop her on the nose fondly. "You've been watching too much of that Star Trek drivel."

"Have not," she huffed, trying to forsake her grin for affront and failing. "Where did they grow, then?"

"Gallifrey," he said swiftly without thinking, before freezing up as much as he could while dancing.

"Is that in Ireland?"

"Er, yes," he mumbled.

She took his hesitation at the start of his sentence as an indication of a lie — maybe Rose was a little too clever — but didn't press the matter, much to his relief. They spent the next hour and a half twirling like pros, weaving in and out of the throng of fumbling teenagers, talking and laughing softly to each other. Unconsciously they continued to drift closer and closer to each other, previous awkwardness gone.

That is, until, somebody knocked into Rose's back and made her stumble, forcing the Doctor to lean forward to catch her elbow and causing Rose's head to snap up. They stared at each other, noses touching, and when his eyes flickered down to her mouth, she took that as initiative and kissed him. He responded at once, revelling in the feeling of her lips on his, uncommonly warm, soft and pliable. Hands moved— Rose's slipping into his hair and his around her back and waist, pulling her flush against him. He made a hungry noise in the back of his throat and never mind the fact that they were in public at a prom for teenagers— the sound of the Doctor wanting her shot straight down to her abdomen.

Snickers and murmuring started up around them and, not wanting them to be a show for adolescents, the Doctor pulled back barely a millimetre and mumbled against her mouth, "Time to leave, I think."

Rose nodded, not entirely sure what she'd just agreed to since her head was fuzzy, but that was clarified when the Doctor led her through the throng and out into the night air. They walked for a few minutes in who the hell knows what direction— Rose didn't care, as long as he kept pinning her to his side and stealing snogs against buildings. Finally she broke away, giggling when they received a couple of affronted looks from passers-by.

"Are we going in any particular direction?" she asked with mirth.

He nodded, trying to look solemn and beam at the same time and somehow pulling it off. "It's time I was completely honest with you, darling Rose Tyler."

The Doctor tugged her further down the sidewalk even though Rose was frowning. "Where are we going?"

"Home," he said simply.

To her immense surprise, he turned the corner and tugged her into a dark alley. Her frown deepened and she looked around, wondering whether he lived in a back flat or something. Then she spotted it at the very end of the path.

He was leading her straight towards that odd blue box Rose had seen him come out of in the park once upon a time. Now it was situated in the alleyway less than a block from the school, shadowed between buildings. She thought he was joking and raised an eyebrow at him, but he simply gave her a knowing smile, pulled out an ordinary-looking key from his pockets and stuck it into the lock. She heard the faint humming again and frowned, reaching over and pressing a hand to the blue wood to see if it was vibrating, which it wasn't.

"You... live in this box?" she said slowly, retracting her hand as he pulled out the key.

Without opening the door, the Doctor stepped back and gestured for her to proceed first. Rose chuckled a bit uncertainly at his eccentric-bordering-on-maniacal grin and obediently pushed open the doors, stepping inside. She blanched at the sight of the positively enormous, roundel-covered, Star Trek reminiscent room that couldn't possibly fit inside a fifty-two-by-seventy-seven police public call box that the general public hadn't used since the 1960s. Briefly she heard the Doctor step inside behind her, but her attention was focused mainly on the almost excited flickering of the overhead lights and a gentle background hum. Without even looking at the Doctor, Rose turned on her heel and sprinted out of the box, circling it three times to make absolutely sure she hadn't mistaken its dimensions, and she felt like she was walking on clouds when she stepped back into the box. The Doctor looked slightly nervous, but Rose only half-noticed.

"Er, the inside's bigger than the outside?" Rose said quietly, still in a state of shock.

"Yes," said the Doctor just as softly, now looking at his loafers.

She gaped a little, spinning in a full circle to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "It's alien."

He didn't answer for a full minute. "Yeah."

Rose turned and regarded him. He looked positively terrified; skin blanched white and eyes wide and locked on the floor. "Are you alien?"

The Doctor's head rose ever so slowly, and he looked at her earnestly. "Yes." He shifted and took a tentative step towards her, and when she didn't back away as he was clearly expecting her to, he asked, "I-is that all right?"

She bit her lip and stared at him. The slightly silly, nosy older man who'd rescued her from her abusive relationship, called her clever because of her love of classic literature, said his name was the Doctor, and made her fall in love with him was actually an alien who lived in a blue police box that was bigger on the inside. Ducking her head, she chuckled— knowing her Doctor, it was believable.

Stepping forward and taking his hands, she smiled at him with her tongue poking between her teeth, watching the hope shine across his face. "Yeah." As the Doctor all but beamed, the pitch in the humming changed to something Rose could mistake for delight, and Rose frowned up at the ceiling. "What was that?"

"It was the TARDIS," the Doctor explained, busying himself with brushing kisses over her hand now that he knew she wasn't going to leave. "T-A-R-D-I-S. That's Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Susan named her."

"'Her'?" Rose repeated, still looking around warily as though expecting the TARDIS to suddenly have a face.

"She's a she," the Doctor said, pressing a kiss to her palm absently. "And she's sentient."

He opened his mouth to add what else his ship was, but Rose interrupted him with a, "Do you hear that?"

"Er, hear what?"

"The humming." She didn't notice him start to smile at her with something that couldn't be mistaken for anything other than pure adoration. "I mean, I could hear it before the first time you came out of it, and just before we came in but it's so loud in here."

"That's her as well," he said, doe-eyed. "It's... well, one of the ways she communicates with non-telepathic beings."

"Oh, she's trying to communicate with me?" Rose said with shock, before glancing up and the ceiling and waving at it. "Er, hello." The humming rose in pitch before lowering again, and Rose beamed. "Ooh, was that good?"

The Doctor chuckled and nodded. The TARDIS did seem to like Rose a lot— perhaps she was just the fact that she made the Doctor so happy.

"So, you're alien," Rose said, chomping down on her lip. "Wow. That's... kind of believable," she added, giggling when he looked a bit affronted. "How old are you for real, then?"

He exhaled through his nose contemplatively and said, "Two hundred and thirty-nine. Still quite young, actually."

"Young," Rose snickered. "Mum would flip if she found out. Then, what's 'Gallifrey'?"

"That's the name of my planet," he said, wrinkling his nose in remembrance. The Gallifreyan High Council was already angry with him for stealing his type-40 TARDIS and pulling Susan out of the Academy— they'd be furious if they found out he'd fallen in love with a human.

"Then you're Galli-Gallifreyan?"

"Time Lord, actually," he said, tugging on his lapels with his free hand.

"Time Lord?"

The Doctor grinned with delight. "The TARDIS doesn't just provide living quarters."

Rose paused, mouth agape. "Are you tellin' me that it — she — is a time machine?"

"Well, time-and-spaceship," he said airily, waving his hand and beaming at the sight of her eyes lighting up.

"No way," she said abruptly, though her face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Prove it."

Gladly. He all but bounced over to the console, punching in coordinates and trying not to look too excited. Rose seemed startled by the TARDIS's take-off groaning at first, but a soothing hum from his old ship reassured her and made him beam like an old fool at the console. He turned quickly to her and gestured towards the doors for her to open, which she did with extreme enthusiasm.

She gasped loudly and fell back two steps when she flung open the door and saw what was waiting for her. A dense, crimson-and-gold nebula with flecks of white here and there, hovering over a bright blue-green planet.

"That..." Rose managed to get out, gesturing out the door.

The Doctor approached her from behind and slipped his arm round her waist, just because he knew he could. "It's called the Ambrioni Nebula. And down there," he added, pointing to the planet, "is Eden Prime."

Rose's ears perked at the name. "You said that was a hotel chain!"

"Well, I wasn't completely lying," he said, shrugging. "Eden Prime is a resort planet."

She stayed silent for a long moment before saying, "We're in space."

"Yes."

"I said I've always wanted to go into space."

He grinned goofily at the memory. "Yes, you did."

"An' I just happened to say that to a bloke with a spaceship?"

"Time-and-spaceship. But yes, yes you did." When Rose didn't answer, simply frowning at the Ambrioni Nebula, he felt a twinge of doubt and said hastily, "Rose, if you wish to leave, then—"

"Doctor, 'm not leavin'," Rose sighed, a smile creeping up on her face.

The Doctor brightened hopefully. "No?"

"'Course not." Gathering up her courage, she added, "I love you, Doctor."

He simply blinked for what felt like the longest moment in her life, looking absolutely dumbstruck. Then, startling her, he hoisted her up by her bum again (déja vu, Rose thought) and twirled her in a happy circle, crushing his mouth to hers. "My darling girl, I love you too!" He set her down and gripped her, looking excited. "Travel with me."

Rose smiled, tongue between her teeth yet again. "Where?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. Come with Susan and I in the TARDIS, and we can see the universe."

Rose had to greatly suppress the urge to scream like a little girl, but couldn't control the beam that split across her face. "Are you askin' me to move in with you?"

"Yes," he said, forsaking his usual witty banter for seriousness.

"Yes, Doctor, I'll move in with you," she grinned, laughing when he picked her up and spun her again.

Except this time he set her down, so she was sitting on top of the console, legs wrapped around his waist, and snogged her breathless. The TARDIS's hum grew softer, as though she'd taken her sentience elsewhere, for which Rose was eternally grateful since things were starting to get heated. Hands wandered, touching, groping, but it wasn't until Rose let her hand wander downward that he pulled away with a gasp and looked nervous.

"Rose... I'm not pretty... I'm—" he started to mumble, but she shushed him.

"I want you, Doctor," she assured him, playing with the buttons on his dinner jacket. "Just you."

"Darling girl," he whispered, capturing her mouth again before picking her up and carrying her to what would from then on be their bedroom.

They made love until dawn and lost count of how many times the phrase 'I love you' was used. Afterwards he read David Copperfield to her until she fell asleep in his arms (his copy, as hers was at home and quite frankly he was too content lying with Rose to pilot the TARDIS to central London). Then he debated where to take her once she woke up. The entire universe at his disposal never sounded so amazing, but now he had this shining little human to share it with.

And then he decided, first thing tomorrow morning, that they were going to pick up Susan and meet Charles Dickens.

A/N: And so concludes the first installment in the Forever and More series :3 Descrips for the next ones are on my profile. For a visual on Susan's prom, there are links to Rose and Susan's dresses, and their corsages, on my profile as well.

As some people weren't comfortable with it, I left out the explicit smut and just said they did it. I will possibly write the smut scene but keep it as a separate story, so any of you who like smut (like moi ;3) can turn to that one for the One/Rose action.

Special shout-outs to Society Member, Soul's Scales, wishbones, Library Ghost 01, the utterly fabulous bubblygal92, jenn008, WhovianTitanPotter, Doctor Rose Belikova, bananas-are-good-9, DeepBlue-sama, Rose Jean Everdeen, Wings of Dawn, Gitah Merah, two guests and of course my new best friend natural-blues ;) Glad you guys enjoyed!