A/N As promised, here's a glimpse at the Doctor's perspective during Mr. & Mrs. Smith. This will be in 5 parts, consisting of a couple extra scenes plus a few key moments. Enjoy!

Part One

Having existed for close to a millennia, the Doctor had very nearly done it all. He had saved and ended lives, been praised and cursed, welcomed and banished, labeled a hero, a rogue, a champion, a thief….just to name a few. This particular moment, however, was a rare first. He, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, was currently entering a London jewelry store with the intention of purchasing wedding rings for himself and his human companion. Never let it be said that his life was predictable.

As he perused the glass cases housing shiny little pieces that symbolized union, he felt as if a swarm of Vespiforms had taken up residence in his belly. That wasn't a new sensation as of late, if he were honest. It began in earnest around the same time he asked Rose Tyler how she felt about the title of "Mrs. Doctor."

They were now about to embark upon an adventure that might prove to be their most dangerous yet. In order to infiltrate a marriage retreat, they would have to undertake the precarious charade of posing as husband and wife. The danger did not lie in a threat to his safety. It was far more serious. He feared he was about to risk his hearts. He had kept them carefully guarded for so long, but he didn't know if he could maintain his diligent defenses while venturing down the impending path. Scarier yet, he didn't think he wanted to maintain those impenetrable defenses. If he had, he wouldn't have jumped at this opportunity, terrifying as it was.

While Rose now handled the issue of telling her mum that she would soon be leaving for the Lake District (omitting a few eyebrow-raising details), the Doctor saw to the arrangements for their excursion. He initially told himself this was no different from any other adventure. Strictly routine. Looking for suspicious alien activity? Pffft. They did this sort of thing in their sleep. No problemo! So why did his hearts feel like they were trying to escape his ribcage? It probably had something to do with the registration form he'd recently submitted, naming Rose as his wife. That was hardly routine.

Despite his rather alarming hearts rate over the approaching situation, he had so far conducted himself in an appropriately calm and collected manner, if he did say so himself. That didn't mean his emotions weren't attempting to run amok. Ordinarily he would have remained cautiously detached in a situation like this. Or even avoided such a risky situation altogether. But something deep inside him, something mad and reckless and wholly sick of having everything he truly wanted out of his reach, was not only willing to take this chance but was eager to do so.

And he knew why. Something had snapped inside him the moment he saw Rose nearly sucked into the never-ending Void. He had watched, helpless and screaming her name, as her fingers slipped from the lever that served as her only anchor between life and death. In that instant, he saw every possibility that could have ever been snuffed out like a candle. In that same instant, he had realized that the bitter pain of regret over a path not taken was far, far worse than taking said path and reaching its eventual conclusion after a life lived to the full.

But once Rose was gloriously and miraculously safe thanks to the valiant effort of Jackie Tyler (something he would forever be grateful to the woman for…whether or not he came right out and said as much), he didn't quite know how to proceed down such a formidable path. It wasn't just age-old reservations still holding him back, but new ones. What if Rose just didn't want that sort of thing with someone like him? He was an alien to her, for Rassilon's sake. And a genocidal one at that. Talk about baggage. He couldn't exactly give her a typical human life or a normal relationship. In fact, embarking on something like this with someone like him would mean she would never have that kind of life.

And so he had remained in a holding pattern since Canary Wharf, wanting and so close to finally attempting more – so much more – but at a loss as to how to go about it, uncertain whether Rose would even want it. It wasn't the sort of thing he was adept at just coming right out and discussing. Over nine hundred years, but no one outlived the fear of rejection. And a part of him didn't feel like he even had a right to suggest such a thing.

If only he could have just known how Rose felt about this sort of thing without risking everything they currently had, creating a strain in their friendship or putting her in an awkward spot. He knew Rose cared for him. Deeply, even. Actually, that just seemed to be part of her nature. Even still, she cared for him in ways he likely didn't deserve and far more than anyone else had in a very long time. But to the extent of wanting to bind her entire being to his for the rest of her life? That was the pivotal question he couldn't seem to bring himself to ask.

Then, like a stroke of sheer fortune a man like him rarely received, this current opportunity had presented itself front and center. It was a chance to test the waters, to see how Rose would react to this sort of thing without the danger of ruining things between them if she didn't seem interested in making it a permanent reality. It was also a perfect opportunity to learn a bit more about human relationships first hand. He was an alien to Rose, but that went both ways.

He'd always been a bit vague on the nuances of human relationships, having never been personally entangled in one himself. On Gallifrey, unions were often formally sanctioned and matings based on advantageous alliances. On Earth it was usually much less formal, yet much more complicated, with emotions being the dominant factor.

It pained him exponentially to admit this, but Jackie Tyler had been right: he didn't truly know what was normal in human terms. Not by experience, at any rate. He'd been on the outside looking in long enough to know the basics. But to understand it well enough to even think of entering into a binding relationship with a human? For that he was going to need some practical experience. What better way to learn about human relationships than to spend three days immersed in nothing but? He now had a perfect, reasonable opportunity to do so as a necessary element to this undercover adventure.

So here the Doctor stood in an ordinary jewelry shop, searching out wedding rings for himself and Rose, on the verge of risking more than he'd previously dared. If this were a simple charade, he could have come up with something on the fly or even stuck a biodamper on her finger. But deep down he wanted this to mean something. And so, he had tapped into a little used, nearly forgotten bank account UNIT had insisted on paying into on his behalf for services rendered years – and a few regenerations – ago. He was going to do this properly.

The Doctor had no illusions of making any sort of bold declarations to Rose as he presented this to her. He was going to try to behave as if this was just all part of the agreed plan so as not to put any kind of undo pressure on her. But he was highly anxious to gauge her reaction just the same. Would she shrink away from the gesture or accept it readily? There was only one way to find out. He just hoped he could contain his enthusiasm if she did allow him to place this on her finger. Humans assigned significance to this sort of thing, and if she accepted it from him that would be the first good sign.

The Doctor had stopped his perusal to gaze down at two matching gold bands seated on a bed of blue velvet beneath the glass display case. They were unpretentious, yet arresting in their significance. They caught the light and gleamed back at him, golden and shining. They reminded him of Rose.

"Have you made a choice, sir?" an eager saleswoman asked, noting his obvious interest.

"Yeah," the Doctor breathed out, surprised by how weighty that one word felt as it left his tongue. "I have."