Author: Wendy Richards
Email: wendy@thedoctorandme.org
Rated: PG

Chapter 1: Selfish

"You're absolutely sure this is what you want?"

He was standing at the console, hands busy with controls, his gaze on what his hands were doing. But then he'd barely looked at her since the end of the conversation in which she'd told him what she'd decided.

"Yes." That came out too quietly, too unconvincingly. "Yes," she said again, firmly, with a confidence she didn't feel at all.

It was the right thing to do. It didn't matter that it wasn't what she really wanted. It was time. And anyway, if she left it much longer she wouldn't be able to do it.

Their accidental visit to the parallel universe had been the catalyst. It'd shown her how selfish she'd been.

Mickey had chosen to stay there, where they would never see each other again, rather than come back to his own - their own - universe. Until then, she'd never quite realised how badly she'd treated him. The Doctor, too. Mickey'd said it himself: he was the spare part. The one they all forgot about.

She'd been taking him for granted. And the Doctor had only spared him a thought when it'd been necessary.

It wasn't just Mickey. Her mum, too. Realising that had been the Doctor's doing. She'd envied her parents in the alternate world - their huge house, the cars, the wealth they clearly had. She'd been imagining what it would've been like to grow up in that world. And they'd never had a daughter. She could have been their daughter. Then the Doctor had reminded her: Jackie and Pete Tyler of the alternate universe had each other - well, sort of, she'd discovered. And anyway, the alternate Jackie had died in the end.

But her mum only had her.

Her real mum. Who loved her and who didn't treat her - or anyone - as if they were less than the dirt beneath her feet. Oh, her mum had a temper and could let fly with insults, all right, but she'd never, ever doubted that she was loved.

She was all her mum had. And she'd spent the last year running off to the other end of the universe, hardly ever remembering to call home, almost getting herself killed countless times. Ignoring the look of pain and grief in her mum's eyes every time she left.

Selfish.

Christmas had shown her yet again how much her mum worried about her while she was gone. But, of course, she should have known that. Had known it, but had blithely assumed that her mum would just get used to it. Because she knew she was fine.

Okay, she made an effort - and so did the Doctor - to make sure she visited more often, not to leave gaps of months between visits, either in terms of her own time or time back at home. But it wasn't the same for her mum, and she knew that.

Until recently, her mum had at least had Mickey for company. Until Mickey had asked to come with them in the TARDIS. And now Mickey was gone for ever.

Mickey'd been right, in those last few conversations they'd had - especially when he'd told her he was staying in the parallel world. Oh, he'd never actually called her selfish, but he'd thought it. She knew that. No-one else had mattered in her life for a very long time. Not since she'd met the Doctor. As long as she could be with him, nothing else mattered. Selfish.

It'd taken Mickey coming with them, though, to make her see that the Doctor was just as bad. She hadn't been the only one ignoring Mickey, making him feel like a spare part - or the tin dog, as he'd called himself. The two of them existed in their own little world, where everyone else was excluded unless they were needed in some way.

So, yeah, the Doctor was just as selfish.

She'd wondered, in those few days after they'd left Mickey behind, whether if she'd treated him better he might not have wanted to stay there. But, even then, why should he have decided any different? He could almost have echoed those hurtful words she'd once said to him: there was nothing left at home - or with her - for him any more. He loved her, true. And she loved him but, as he'd told her, she loved the Doctor more. And in the parallel world he had people who needed him. People who wouldn't treat him as a spare part. He had his gran.

In her world - in her orbit - Mickey had felt useless. She'd made him feel useless. As if he didn't count. And she and the Doctor, both of them, had done that to him.

She'd been selfish again when he'd told her he was staying behind. What about me? she'd asked. What if I need you?

She missed Mickey. And how selfish was that, too? She'd treated him like a part of the furniture. Or an annoying tagalong. Now that he was gone, she wanted him back. She was a stupid cow who wanted it all.

She knew the Doctor blamed himself, too. They hadn't talked about it at first. He'd taken one look at her when she'd walked back into the TARDIS and immediately started manipulating the controls. She hadn't realised what he was doing until he'd told her to go outside and she'd found herself back home, in her mum's living-room. With her mum. Alive. It was what she'd needed, and he'd understood that.

But, once they'd left again, a couple of days later, he'd asked her if she blamed him for Mickey leaving. She'd told him she didn't, but that wasn't really true. They were both to blame. But she more than him.

It wasn't really Mickey, though. Or even her mum being alone. Those were part of the reason she was leaving, but not all of it.

She'd known for a while that she'd leave the Doctor one day. That it would be her choice. After meeting Sarah-Jane, she'd promised herself that she wasn't going to end up in the same position. She wouldn't let herself be left behind. She wouldn't spend the rest of her life hoping and wishing that the Doctor would come back for her some day.

She'd leave, at a time of her own choosing, a clean break with no looking back. She'd make him say a proper goodbye and she'd send him on to live the rest of his long lives without her - to pick up new companions along the way, of course, until she became just a dim memory.

And this was the time she'd chosen. Sooner than she'd expected, sooner than she'd wanted, but it was the right time. Because any longer and she wouldn't be able to do it.

So she'd told him. About two weeks after Mickey'd left, after a sleepless night when she'd been over and over how selfish she'd been, and everything else that'd been on her mind for weeks, she'd come to him in the control room and told him she wanted to go home.

He'd looked up and smiled at her. "Again? Weren't we just there a couple of weeks ago?" But his hands had already been moving across the controls. "Okay. Powell Estates it is. Two weeks after our last visit all right?"

He hadn't understood. She'd had to spell it out. "Not for a visit, Doctor. To stay."

His hand had slipped, and the smile faded. "You're - " Immediately, he'd broken off whatever he'd been about to say. "This is a bit sudden, isn't it?"

She'd dug her hands deep into the pockets of her top. "Not really. Been thinking about it for a while."

"Ah." He'd nodded a couple of times. "This is about Mickey, isn't it? Rose, he made his own decision. I know you miss him - I miss him, too. But I really think he did the right thing."

She'd shrugged. " `S not really about Mickey. Or only partly. I just... I jus' think it's time."

He'd given her a long, hard look, his brown eyes seeming to see right inside her. For a moment, she'd thought he was going to argue with her. And, even though part of her had desperately wanted him to, another part of her'd felt the unfairness of it. He hadn't argued with Mickey when he'd announced he was staying.

But then he'd sighed. When he'd spoken, his voice had been quiet. "If you're sure it's what you want. When d'you want to go?"

She'd wanted to get it over with. Her rucksack was already packed. "Now, please."

And then he'd given her one more long look, emotions shuttered, before saying, "As you wish."

***

"If there's something I've done... or not done..." His voice was light, but she could hear the underlying tension. He was trying to persuade her to change her mind, after all.

It wasn't fair. He hadn't done that with Mickey.

But it was different, really. Mickey had a reason for staying, and the Doctor had known what it was. She hadn't really given him a reason for leaving.

"No." She shook her head. " `S nothing you've done." And it was only partly a lie. It was much more her fault than his. She was the one who'd wanted more than he could ever offer her.

Yes, there was one thing he could say that would make her change her mind. But she knew he'd never say it. He'd made that clear the night she'd confronted him about leaving Sarah-Jane behind, and as if it hadn't sunk in she'd realised it again that horrible day she'd watched him fall in love with Reinette, the child who'd grown up before their eyes to become the most famous woman in eighteenth-century France.

For that day, she'd got a taste of what it was like for the Doctor. To him, a human lifespan must seem like that day had to her. To meet someone, fall in love and then watch them die in such a short time, and be left alive and alone - how could anyone cope with that kind of pain?

She was sure that he loved her, but after Reinette she'd realised that he'd never tell her, and he'd never do anything about it.

If she were a better person - a less selfish person - she'd be able to settle for what they had. Settle for knowing that, for now, she was the most important person in his life. His best friend. But that was the problem. She really was just too selfish, because she wanted more.

It was insecurity, too. This life, much as they both loved it, couldn't last indefinitely. Sarah-Jane had shown her that. And, even though the Doctor had told her he wouldn't leave her behind, she'd stopped believing him after he'd gone through that time window knowing all his escape-routes would be closed. Knowing he might never be able to get back to her and Mickey.

Oh, she'd known what she needed to do if he hadn't made it back. She knew how to initiate a programme that would have taken them back to 2007, to London. He'd shown her that not long after his regeneration, telling her that they had to be prepared for anything that might happen and he couldn't risk her being stranded somewhere without him. But she hadn't told Mickey that. She hadn't told him anything. She'd just stood, frozen, staring at that window, at the last place she'd seen the Doctor.

The Doctor hadn't had a choice. She'd known that. He'd had to stop the clockwork creatures. For all sorts of reasons, including preserving history, he couldn't have allowed them to kill Reinette. But it had still felt as if he'd made a choice, and that he'd chosen Reinette over her, however selfish it had been of her to think that. And it had hurt her so much it'd scared her. So much that she hadn't let him see her hurt, only her worry for him.

He'd come back, of course, and she'd got the impression that for him it had actually been less time than it had for her. But the incident had been an even bigger wake-up call than finding out how he'd left Sarah-Jane behind. Because, even after Sarah-Jane, she'd been naïve enough to let herself believe that she was different.

That, yes, the Doctor left companions. He'd left Sarah-Jane. She'd seen for herself how he'd left Jack, and she was still hurt and confused about that. Jack was alive. That was all the Doctor had told her. She'd asked him a couple of times where Jack was and why they hadn't gone back for him, but after he'd stonewalled both times she'd let the subject drop. Hadn't stopped her wondering, of course.

Even that, though, hadn't stopped her assuming that she was different. Because of course she was. The Doctor loved her. He wouldn't leave her.

He'd loved Sarah-Jane. And he'd left her. Never once mentioned Sarah to her. He'd cared about Jack - she knew that, had seen it for herself - and he'd left Jack and never mentioned him now.

She'd known for a long time that she loved him. Loved him enough to die for him. She'd felt secure in the belief that he loved her just as much. Meeting Sarah-Jane, finding out that he moved from companion to companion, and then being left behind on that spaceship, had all shaken her confidence in his love for her.

He did love her. But not enough to take the risk that one day he'd have to watch her wither and die. Not enough to keep his word that he wouldn't leave her behind.

One day, she'd known then, he would leave her. And it would devastate her.

So, better to make the break herself, before it got too difficult. Before she ruined every other relationship she still had back home. While she still had somewhere to go back to.

And then Mickey had left. And she'd realised that the cosy world she'd just assumed would always be waiting back home for her was already crumbling.

So it was time to go home. While she could still walk away from him.

***

"Be there in a few minutes." The Doctor cut across her thoughts. Just as well. She was starting to feel sorry for herself again.

"Right. Better go an' get my rucksack, then." Without another word, she left the console room. Escaped. Because it was all getting too hard to cope with. If she'd stayed there with him another minute, with the long silences and him alternately avoiding looking at her and shooting her long, speculative looks, she'd completely lose the composure she was only barely holding onto.

Her decision had seemed right last night, when she'd thought it all through and come to the conclusion that it was the only possible option. Now, though... It would take very little to make her change her mind. And she couldn't let that happen.

She got back to the console room a couple of minutes later, just in time to hear the materialisation sequence begin. This time, she stayed below the platform. She couldn't handle being too close to him. Not now.

The Doctor met her gaze again, and he looked tense.

"You know this is goodbye, right? No visits. I don't do that. If you leave now, Rose, this is it."

She nodded. "I know that, Doctor." Her tone was sharper than she'd expected. "Sarah-Jane, remember? You move on. You don't look back. Bye, Rose, hello new companion."

Something flashed in his eyes. "You're the one whose decision this is, Rose, not me. You're the one walking away. So don't throw Sarah-Jane at me. You have no right to do that."

Yeah, she was the one leaving. But it was because he did that to companions, because he moved on, never looked back, that she was going. So that he couldn't do it to her.

He sighed audibly. "Sorry. Look, what I wanted to say is - I don't keep in touch, Rose. But if you ever change your mind... or if you ever need me, for anything, you know how to contact me."

Her head shot up. She met his gaze in surprise. She hadn't expected that he'd leave her that kind of opening.

Contact him... of course, her phone. Her third super-mobile, now. After he'd told her to give Mickey her second phone so he could use it to disable the Cyberforces, she'd needed a new one. And so over those couple of days they'd spent in London the Doctor had insisted on going phone-shopping with her. That'd been an ordeal, too; he'd found fault with just about every phone they'd looked at. She'd only got him to approve a phone in the end by threatening not to get one at all.

And, as soon as they'd left the shop with the activated mobile, he'd taken it from her and jiggery-poked it in exactly the same way as he had both of its predecessors.

It was still a super-mobile. And it still had the TARDIS's number programmed into its memory. Yes, she could contact him anywhere. But she wouldn't.

But she wasn't telling him that.

The silence was suddenly deafening. They were there. Home. Back in London.

This was it. Time to go.

"I..." She had to swallow. "I guess this is it, Doctor. Thanks for everything."

He left the console, striding down from the platform and over to her. "I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," he said, his voice soft, as he reached her.

She wanted to ask him why, but couldn't quite find her voice.

"When I met you," he said, still quietly, "I was in a right old state. Well, you saw it. You remember. I couldn't even handle being asked where I was from, let alone telling anyone. Time's helped, of course, but you helped more." He reached for her hands, holding them loosely. "You were fantastic, Rose Tyler," he finished, giving her a crooked smile.

And that was it. She lost her composure completely. Tears were suddenly streaming down her face. And, in a single movement, he caught her in a tight hug.

"You can change your mind." His arms were tight around her and his face was against her hair.

"No." This was too hard as it was. She'd never be able to go through this a second time.

He loosened his hold on her, and his eyes held hers. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me, too."

That was one thing she knew for the absolute truth. She'd miss him every day for the rest of her life. But she wasn't going to be like Sarah-Jane, feeling bitter because he'd left her, always wondering what she'd done to make him not want to come back to her.

She pulled away, out of his arms. Because if she didn't do it now she'd embarrass herself totally by clinging to him. "Goodbye, Doctor."

For an instant, the briefest of moments, she could almost have believed he was going to kiss her. Something in his expression, in the way he seemed to move his head... but then she blinked, and it was gone. It must have been her imagination. Or the tears blurring her vision.

"Goodbye, Rose."

His hands shoved deep in his pockets, he stayed exactly where he was as she picked up her rucksack and walked to the door. She glanced back once, as she was halfway through the door, and saw that he was watching her, his expression every bit as sad as it'd been when he'd come back to the TARDIS after saying goodbye to Sarah-Jane. Maybe even sadder.

She swallowed the lump once more occupying her throat. "You take care, Doctor. Don't go absorbin' any more Time Vortexes, you hear?"

His mouth twitched, very faintly. "That's Vortices, actually." He sobered again. "You take care, too, Rose."

And then the door swung shut behind her. She'd taken less than three steps away when she heard the dematerialisation sequence start.

"Goodbye, Doctor. I love you." She whispered the words into the void left by the now-vanished TARDIS, before setting off to her mother's flat and home.

***

Chapter 2: Letting Go

They all left. Every one of them.

The curse of the Time Lords, he'd once told Rose. To be alone.

He'd known, despite his promise to her not to leave her behind, that she'd leave him some day. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

He'd been torn, when she'd told him what she wanted. Should he try to talk her out of it? Or should he just respect her decision, regardless of how much it hurt, and let her go?

Sometimes, Rose was very easy to read. But at other times, like earlier, she wasn't transparent at all. Well, other than clearly being miserable, but this had to have been a hard decision for her. He'd only hope that she was as upset about leaving him as he was about her going. Had she wanted him to persuade her to stay? Had she been expecting some sort of declaration from him, maybe about how much she meant to him?

Though she shouldn't have needed that. She knew how he felt about her. There was no way in the universe that she couldn't know. Even Mickey had said it, right there in front of the two of them. And Jake.

They hadn't needed words, him and Rose. Actions, gestures, looks, even silence were all far more significant. The words had never needed to be said, with either of the regenerations she'd known.

So that couldn't have been it.

Had she wanted him to talk her out of leaving? He'd thought not, watching her. At the same time, he'd suspected that it wouldn't have taken much to get her to change her mind. But what had been clear was that she hadn't wanted to. And he respected that. What she wanted would always be important to him.

So, even though it'd almost killed him, he'd let her go.

And now he was alone. Again.

Well, maybe it was time he got used to it. For a while, anyway.

***

In the end, she was wrong.

Her mum didn't need her. Not really.

Oh, she was very happy to see her back. Very surprised, but relieved too, to hear that she'd left the Doctor. Not that she still disliked the Doctor; actually, to Rose's surprise, she and the new Doctor had ended up getting on pretty well. They'd seemed to understand each other. But she was overjoyed that Rose was no longer risking life and limb on distant planets and the furthest reaches of the past or future.

But what she'd missed over the past year was that her mum had a life. A life that didn't include her, not in the way she'd expected.

Her mum had always had a life of her own, of course. But then, before she'd left to travel the universe with the Doctor, so had she. And, for her mum, of course, that'd been two years ago.

It was two years ago for her friends, too. They'd moved on, done different things with their lives, got jobs - careers, in some cases - started and finished relationships, even got married in some cases. They'd made new friends. Developed new interests. In some cases, there was nothing left to the friendship any more.

She hadn't noticed before how much everyone had changed. But then, coming home for visits of a few days at a time - if that - was very different from coming home permanently. Before, she ran in and out of their lives, staying around for a few hours, leaving opportunity only for short conversations. And, since she never told any of them what she was really doing and who with, the conversations had been superficial and full of lies.

Au-pairing. Backpacking around the world. Working her way through continents. That was the story her mum had started with and she'd continued. It had been easy enough to sustain on short visits; she hadn't found it that hard to adapt some of her experiences, to take out any of the alien or fantastical details, and to pretend they'd taken place in Africa or South America instead of Justicia or 1940s London or the far-flung future.

Now, it was harder. Now, she was expected to have souvenirs of places she'd visited. Detailed stories of where she'd been and what she'd done. Some of her friends' new friends had even been to one or two of the places she was supposed to have visited. To stop her lies being exposed, she started deflecting conversation whenever she was asked about her travels. That inadvertently gave the impression that she'd got airs and wasn't interested in talking to her friends any more.

The real problem was that they'd all changed. And beyond recognition.

***

" `S about time you got a job, Rose."

She'd been home two weeks when her mum glared at her across the breakfast-table one morning. "Can't expect me to keep you indefinitely, can you? Got to start livin' in the real world again, now you're not runnin' off to strange places with him any more."

Her mum was right. And that was something she'd been putting off.

She needed to start the rest of her life. For the last two weeks, she'd been living in a kind of limbo. As if she'd been pretending that this was just temporary.

She'd been behaving as if this was just like any other visit home; just a little longer than most. But, once she started looking for a job, she'd no longer be able to kid herself that this was just temporary; that any day now the TARDIS would be back and she and the Doctor would be off universe-hopping again. This was it. She was home for good.

And it'd been her own choice. Her decision. Because she'd decided that the time was right. The fact that she'd started regretting it even before she'd walked through the TARDIS door for the last time was irrelevant.

"Yeah." She sighed, but met her mum's gaze. "I'll go down the job-centre today."

"Yeah, an' make sure you sign on, too," her mum said, in a tone that sounded far too much like a nag. "Not that they'll give you any money yet. Probably make you wait six weeks or something cause you haven't been signing on. `S not like you got any proof that you've been working these last two years."

Yeah, and it wasn't as if she could put Saving the universe with the last Time Lord on her CV, either.

The other problem was that she had no idea what she wanted to do. Yeah, she could get another job in a shop. But even before Henrik's had blown up and she'd met the Doctor she'd already known that wasn't what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

She'd been able to put off making any decisions about that while she was with the Doctor. But the dream was over now. She'd woken up. And the rest of her life was staring her in the face.

***

So she went through the motions of living. Signed on. Went down the job-centre daily. Applied for a few jobs. Got a job working in a greasy-spoon café - those few days she'd spent as a dinner-lady in Deffry Vale High School had come in handy, after all, despite her complaints.

Missed Mickey.

And, of course, she missed the Doctor.

She dreamed about both of them every night. Mickey was angry and hurt, accusing her of leaving him, treating him like dirt, taking him for granted. Of trying to have it all - the Doctor most of the time, but Mickey whenever the Doctor wasn't around. She saw herself telling him that there was nothing at home for her any more. Not even him.

She saw him telling her that there was nothing at home for him any more. That he didn't need her. Didn't want her.

She saw herself standing by the side of the road, tears streaming down her cheeks, while Mickey walked away and didn't look back.

She saw the Doctor, in both his forms, holding out his hand to her. Asking her to come with him. Promising to show her wonders beyond her imagination. In her dreams, she saw him kiss her, cradle her in his arms, then lower her to the floor. Why, she didn't know, because the dream always faded at that point.

She saw him shouting at her, calling her a stupid ape. She saw him tell her that she'd wither and die and she couldn't expect him to have to watch that happen. She saw him die right in front of her. And she saw him reborn. She saw him run away from her and to another woman. She saw him kiss another woman, and mourn her death. She saw him broken, grief-stricken, believing that she was dead. And she saw him lie to her, send her away, for her own good.

She saw him standing in the TARDIS, expression solemn, saying goodbye to her. Heard him tell her that this was for ever, that she'd never see him again. And she saw him turn and walk away, slamming the TARDIS door in her face. She saw the TARDIS disappear, her key melt into nothing.

Jack walked in and out of her dreams, too. He caught her in his arms, saving her life. He danced with her, holding her close. He told her she was beautiful and that he loved her. He kissed her and told her that she was worth fighting for.

And then he died.

In her dreams, everyone she loved died or left her. Her dad died over and over, hit by a car. Or else he looked at her with disgust when she called him Dad, and he just walked away.

Her mum died; she got turned into a steel monster with an unrecognisable metal voice.

And a different voice told her that she had strayed far from all that was good. And asked how long she would survive this terrible life. While someone else taunted her about looking at the Doctor, noticing him, wanting him. Wanting him, laughing with him, while all about her people died.

Wanting him and laughing with him while Mickey looked on from the sidelines and was miserable.

In her dreams, death and misery were all around her, and she was at the centre of it all. And she tried to reach for the Doctor's hand, but he was torn from her, surrounded by a halo of golden light. And he faded away and vanished, leaving only a brilliant whiteness that hurt her eyes.

And, every morning, she woke with moist and heavy eyes.

***

So many times, she picked up her phone and thumbed through the directory until she came to the TARDIS number. So many times, she almost hit dial.

But she stopped herself, every time.

She missed the Doctor so much it hurt. And she hated being back at home. Going back to living with her mum was hard, especially as she could tell that her mum had got used to having the flat to herself. After the second time she ran into Howard during a night-time visit to the bathroom, she resolved to find a bedsit just as soon as she'd saved up a deposit.

She hated her job. Hated her boss, too; he was a fat slob who broke just about every health and safety regulation in the book, treated his staff like dirt and found every excuse to dock their wages, regardless of what the law said. She was looking for another job, but until she'd found one she couldn't afford to walk out.

And, anyway, part of her was telling her that this was what she deserved. She needed to know how ordinary people lived. For too long, she'd swanned around in that blue box, not a care in the world, thinking herself better than anyone else because she was a Time Lord's companion. Because the Doctor thought she was the best. Because she'd saved the universe and she was clever and good and special and worth fighting for.

Back here, in London, she was just an ordinary woman struggling to make ends meet in a minimum-wage job. Not particularly bright, not particularly ambitious and not at all special.

But she didn't phone the Doctor. Because she'd made her decision, and she was going to live with it. Because nothing had changed. She didn't deserve to be with him any more. Because she wasn't special. She was selfish and clingy and he was better off without her.

Because, anyway, by now he'd have someone else. Her replacement.

She wondered if he'd found another young, pretty blonde, or if he'd gone for a brunette this time. Or maybe even a redhead.

And she hoped he was happy, even while she wished that he was as miserable as she was.

***

Four months after she came home, she was clearing tables in the café and picked up a Sunday Times someone had left behind. Folding it to put it on the cheap plastic newspaper rack, something caught her eye in the magazine. A byline.

Sarah-Jane Smith.

She stared at the name and felt her heart skip a beat.

What do I do? Do I stay with him?

Yes. Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.

But were they?

And what about all the hurt she'd caused other people in the process?

Find me... if you need to, one day. Find me.

There was an email address at the end of the article. Glancing around quickly to check that her boss wasn't watching, Rose ripped the page out and stuffed it in her pocket.

***

The house was lovely. Worth a bundle, too, in this part of London. She rang the bell nervously. Sarah-Jane's email had been lovely - welcoming, friendly, inviting her to visit. But how would she react when she knew what had happened?

But the older woman's smile was as nice as she remembered. "Rose! Come in!" She stepped back, clearing the way. "I was hoping you'd get in touch. I really didn't think it'd be this soon, though."

"No, me neither." She followed Sarah-Jane into a bright, airy kitchen, on the way spotting K-9 in another room. "Saw your name in the paper, though, an' had to email you."

"Well, I'm very glad you did. So, how are you?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

Sarah-Jane's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I don't think so, Rose. But let's have some coffee and not talk about it just yet. All right?"

So they did. For half an hour or so, they talked about all sorts of things - the latest films, Harriet Jones's recent cabinet reshuffle, the upcoming election for London mayor, Tube overcrowding. Neither of them mentioned the Doctor. But he was there with them in the room, all the same.

Finally, Sarah offered Rose a coffee refill and said, "Okay, so spill it. You left him? Because I don't think he'd have left you. Not this soon. Not the way he looked at you."

How had Sarah noticed that? She hadn't really seen the two of them together. Not like Mickey had. God, they must have been obnoxiously couply. And they hadn't even been a couple.

"Yeah, I left `im." And suddenly, before she even realised it was happening, tears were falling.

"Oh, Rose." Sarah came around the table, rested one hand on Rose's shoulder and reached for a tissue with the other. "You know, you don't have to tell me anything. But, if you want to, I make a good listener."

She talked. For the next hour or so, she did nothing but talk. It didn't even make sense, any of it; at least, she didn't think it did. She couldn't quite make it come out straight: how she'd realised how selfish she'd been, the way she'd treated Mickey, the way she'd treated her mum. Realising, too, that she had to let go of the Doctor before it became too hard.

Then coming home and finding everything changed. It seemed like there was a whole new world here, and she just didn't fit into it any more.

And Sarah's vigorous nodding at that point told her that she understood. Of course. It had to have been like that for her, too.

"That was the hardest thing for me," Sarah said. "I was away for four years. Though, actually, for the first year or so we didn't travel much, but I still wasn't living a normal life." Four years. She hadn't realised that. She'd been with the Doctor about a year. "Coming back... I hadn't been back all that much in the meantime, and always with the Doctor. Coming back was hard. I'd been to all those places, seen all those things, and no-one understood. No-one knew. Well, I did have a couple of people I could talk to if I wanted," she added. "People at UNIT. But I didn't really want to talk to them. Too many memories."

Yeah. That made sense, too.

"I felt as if I didn't belong here, either. But I told myself, after a while, when I finally admitted that he wasn't coming back for me, that I had to get on with my life. And I learned to."

"How'd you do it?" She really wanted to know. Because, so far, she was making a spectacular failure of it.

Sarah poured them both some more wine from the bottle she'd opened half an hour ago - because they deserved it, she'd said. Because the Doctor was driving them both to drink. "It wasn't easy. But I started applying for jobs again - at first, I just worked at a little local paper to earn enough money to live on, but it wasn't challenging me and I knew I was worth more than that. So I applied for everything, got as much experience as I could, wrote articles on a freelance basis and walked them around as many newsrooms as I could get into, and finally got a job on one of the national dailies. And then, ten years ago, made it to the Sunday Times."

Rose nodded. "But you had qualifications. You had experience. I don't `ave any of that."

"But you're bright," Sarah said. "I can see that. And the Rose I met was determined. And strong."

Her gaze fell. "I don't feel any of that any more. I'm useless, Sarah. I can't do anything. I... half the time I want to cry. And the rest of the time I just want to shout at everyone an' tell them to leave me alone."

"What about the Doctor?" Sarah asked. "How do you feel about him?"

She swallowed. "Sometimes I hate him. An' sometimes I love him. An' I don't know which feeling's real any more."

Sarah nodded. "I hated him, too, for a very long time."

"Yeah, but you... you had reason to. He left you behind. He forgot you! I'm the one that left `im."

"Rose." Sarah reached across the table and covered her hand. "I want you to do something for me."

"What?"

Getting up, Sarah went to a pine dresser and opened a drawer. After writing for a moment, she came back to the table and passed Rose a piece of paper. "Call this person. I think she can help you. And, when you're ready, come to see me again."

***

The woman Sarah sent Rose to was a therapist specialising in grief and loss. And, after several sessions, for which the therapist didn't charge as some sort of favour owed to Sarah-Jane, things became clearer.

She'd been grieving for Mickey. The fact that he wasn't dead was irrelevant. He was still gone, and she'd never see him again. And she blamed herself for his loss. She was grieving for her dad, too; for the dad she'd never really known and who'd been stolen from her twice.

It had been wrong of her to expect that the Pete Tyler of the parallel world would just accept her as his daughter. The Doctor had tried to warn her, but she hadn't listened. She'd been so sure that all she'd needed to do was explain to Pete and then he'd love her as she wanted to love him. His rejection and Mickey's departure, coming together as they had, had left her unable to cope.

Besides Mickey and her dad, there was Jack. She'd never grieved for him, either. Whether or not he was dead, and she wasn't really sure about that despite what the Doctor'd said, she'd still lost him. She'd never been able to say goodbye to him properly; though he'd said goodbye to her, she hadn't believed that she wouldn't see him again.

Her reactions fit the recognised stages of grief, she saw as the therapist made her talk about her feelings. She'd been numb for a long time. She wasn't connecting with people around her, apart from Sarah. She was functioning mechanically and avoiding social interaction as much as she could, coming up with excuses as to why she couldn't go out with her friends or even talk on the phone.

She was intensely disorganised, which wasn't her usual habit at all. Growing up, she rather than her mum had done much of what needed to be done: making sure that bills were paid, sorting out problems, getting things fixed. Now, she was doing none of that. Things were piling up around her and she was running away from them rather than dealing with them.

Just as she'd run away from the Doctor.

She needed to acknowledge and deal with her grief, the therapist told her, before she could move on properly.

But how? And what did she want to do when she did move on?

Sarah helped. It was Sarah who suggested visiting her dad's grave again and creating some kind of memorial for Mickey. She'd told everyone that Mickey had gone abroad, that she didn't know whether he'd come back. She didn't have to change that story, Sarah said. But, in the same way as putting flowers on a grave could help someone who'd been bereaved, if she had some sort of tribute to Mickey it might help her to let him go.

She did that. There was a patch of waste ground not far from the Powell Estates where she and Mickey had gone when they'd first started going out. He hadn't had his own flat then, or his car, so it'd been somewhere they could go to be alone. She buried a T-shirt of his, and a keyring he'd given her as a joke years ago. It wasn't exactly a grave, but it was a place she could visit and think of him. And it helped.

She wrote Jack a letter, telling him how much she'd cared about him and all the things about him she'd liked and appreciated. Loved. And how much she missed him. And she said goodbye. The letter was tucked away in a drawer. She only wished she'd had a photo of him to keep with it, but her memories would have to do.

What she didn't know was how she was supposed to grieve for the Doctor, when he was still out there in the universe somewhere.

***

"Should I call him?"

She was at Sarah's again, for one of their fortnightly Sunday lunches. It was ten months after she'd left the Doctor.

Things were better. Not perfect, not by a long way. But she'd finally let go of her grief. Her therapist had pronounced her not healed, exactly, but good enough to end the sessions. She'd said goodbye to Mickey finally. She'd said goodbye to her dad and to Jack.

But she'd never quite managed to say goodbye to the Doctor.

Now, she understood better why she'd left him. Maybe she had been selfish. Maybe she had treated the people she loved and who loved her badly. Maybe she had wanted more than the Doctor could ever offer her.

But the truth was that she hadn't been in any kind of mental state to make a life-altering decision like that.

She'd been on the edge of depression, a depression she'd sunk deeper into after she'd got home. Her therapist had helped her to see that, though she'd only given the woman an approximation of the facts. Certainly nothing about a time-travelling, nine-hundred-year-old alien. She was still on medication, though was cutting back on the pills now and would soon be off them completely.

There were times when she thought the Doctor should have seen what was happening to her. He should have recognised that she was depressed and done something about it. But then she reminded herself - as her therapist had taught her - that she had to take responsibility for her own actions. She'd made the decision. She'd decided not to tell him what she was feeling. And she'd decided to make the break permanent, instead of just asking for a couple of weeks at home to think.

Now, she deeply regretted it. If she hadn't been depressed, she'd never have wanted to leave. She'd have stayed, determined to take what she could have from him. Even if he couldn't offer her forever, even if he could never offer her more than the deep, loving friendship they'd had together, she'd have stayed and made the most of it while she could.

Yes, there'd been her mum to think of, but there were other ways she could have handled that. The Doctor'd made it clear, especially after Mickey left, that he'd take her home for a visit any time she wanted. That he understood that her mum might need her more now. She could have stayed with him and kept an eye on her mum.

But he'd said she could change her mind. She could come back, whenever she wanted. But she hadn't been able to trust herself to make that decision.

"Do you want to?" Sarah asked.

"Yes." The answer was immediate. But then she sighed and she could feel her face fall. "I don't know."

"Why?"

"Because..." She chewed her lip for a moment. "Because the last ten months've been hell. If I go back, I'll have to leave him again some day. And I don't know if I can do this again."

She'd come a long way in those ten months. As well as therapy, she'd signed up to take A-levels. Okay, she was still working in a dead-end job - a different one now - but it was only to make ends meet while she was studying. And she was still living with her mum, but they were doing better now, and as soon as she could afford it she was planning to move out. Her mum deserved the privacy, especially since Howard had moved in three months ago.

Sarah nodded. "I know what you mean. Even though I'd never not have our meeting at the school happen, and it gave me closure I'd needed for a long time, it took a while to get over seeing him again."

Rose nodded. That made sense. "I won't, then. But, Sarah, promise me something?"

"Sure. What?"

"Don't let me give in. Ever. Make sure I don't phone him. Okay?"

Sarah crossed the room and hugged her. "I won't. But you're strong, Rose. You won't give in, because you know what's right for you."

***

Chapter 3: Temptations

She didn't regret not contacting him. Well, not much. Only sometimes. Like several times a day, though after a while she realised that maybe the regret was hitting her perhaps twice a day instead of six.

But, she told herself, of course she was always going to miss him. You don't meet someone like the Doctor every day, and to have had the privilege of travelling the universe with him... well, it wasn't an experience anyone could forget in a hurry.

She didn't want to forget it. It really had been the very best time of her life. And, as she'd once told the Doctor, she wouldn't have missed it for the world. It just shouldn't have ended so soon, but she only had herself to blame for that.

Even now, even as hard as readjusting had been, she had no regrets. If she could go back to the day when he asked her to come with him and told her the TARDIS also travelled in time, even knowing what she knew now she'd do exactly the same.

And things were getting better. Mostly. She was almost halfway to her A-levels now, and expecting to do pretty well. She wasn't taking medication any more. She could talk about Mickey without becoming paralysed with grief and guilt. She even talked to Sarah about Jack, sharing some of their more humorous exploits and things he'd done that'd made her laugh.

She'd also rebuilt some of her friendships. Shareen had been sympathetic when she'd finally told her about the depression, and now they went out together most weeks and talked on the phone a few times a week. They weren't as close as they used to be, but that was never going to be possible. Too much had happened. She'd done too many things she could never tell Shareen about.

And suddenly it was a year to the day since she'd left the Doctor.

***

"What you doin' moping around the place with that long face on you?"

Her mum's voice was sharp, and she glared at Rose.

True, she was probably moping. She'd been sitting on the sofa, doing nothing, simply staring into space, for a while.

"Nothing." She spoke more sharply than she intended. But she really wasn't in the mood for being criticised. Not today.

"God, sometimes I don't know why you ever bothered to come home, Rose Tyler! `S not like you act like you want to be back `ere with us ordinary mortals. Should've stayed with the Doctor, since `e seems to be the only one who can do anything right far as you're concerned."

"That's not fair!" Something inside her just snapped. "Do you have the faintest idea why I came home?"

Her mum shrugged. "Well, I dunno. You told me you'd just had enough of it. That it was time."

"Yeah, right." She jumped to her feet and started pacing. "An' you believed that? I loved it, what we did. It was the best time of my life. An' I gave it up for you. You, Mum. Cause you were alone, an' I knew how worried you were about me, an' suddenly Mickey was gone too. I came home so you wouldn't worry any more!"

"What?" Her mum stared at her, her expression scornful. "Oh, come on, you don't expect me to believe that, do you? You? You've always been selfish, Rose Tyler. Don't expect me to believe that for once in your life you put someone else before yourself. Or before your precious Doctor!"

"That's not true!" Tears were falling suddenly, hot tears of anger... and of pain. Grief.

A year today.

Exactly a year since she'd stood in the console room and told him she wanted to go home. Exactly a year since she'd said goodbye to him for ever. And here her mum was saying she should never have left.

She snatched up her purse and phone, stuffing them in her pocket, and stormed out of the flat.

***

"I dunno what to do, Mickey," she whispered half an hour later, crouched down by the spot she'd designated as her memorial for him. "I miss him so much. Miss you, too. An' the thing is I know I can go back. Least, he said I could. But... should I?"

Mickey didn't answer. The only sound she heard was passing traffic.

"Thing is, I've no idea what he'd even be doing by now. Or who he'd be with. He'll have someone else. I know that. Prob'ly picked someone up within a few weeks of me leaving. If not sooner. An'... I am still selfish, Mickey. I don't want to share him. An', anyway, maybe he doesn't want me back now. Maybe he's forgotten `bout me."

She stood, gazing into the distance, seeing in front of her not the tower-blocks but a tall figure in brown pin-stripes. And, just behind him, another tall man in a black leather jacket.

"I could call him, yeah," she said to the men who weren't there. "But time-travel, yeah? How do I know when he'd get my call? Before I've even left? A week later? Two years? Twenty years? Or before he's even met me in the first place? I can't take that risk, can I?"

She couldn't take the risk that he'd have changed his mind.

No. She wasn't going to phone him. Not now.

The good thing about today was that she'd made it through the first year. It could only get better after this, surely. Because one thing she knew was that it couldn't get any worse.

***

When she went back home again, her mum was waiting for her.

"C'mere, sweetheart." She held out her arms.

Surprised, tears pricking at her eyes again, she went.

"I'm sorry, love. I should've remembered." Her mum hugged her tightly. " `S a year today, isn't it?

"Yeah." Oh, god, she'd needed this.

"An' you miss `im. I should've seen that, love. You loved `im."

"Yeah." It was the first time she'd admitted that to her mum, though she'd told Sarah. "I do." Love. Present tense. She still loved him. Would always love him.

"Oh, Rose." Her mum stroked her hair. "I'm sorry you felt you needed to leave `im for me. An' I am glad to have you back."

That made her feel better. A bit, anyway.

***

It did get better. Slowly.

Gradually, she was turning back into the old Rose Tyler: outgoing, interested in things, talkative. She was very different from the Rose she'd used to be, but the new things about her became almost fused onto her old personality as it reawakened. As the depression finally lifted.

As she resolved, once and for all, that she wouldn't let it, and missing the Doctor, rule her life.

Yes, she would always miss him. Yes, she loved him. But she was still Rose Tyler; the best, he'd once called her. Who'd always run into danger, not away from it, when she'd been with him. Who'd saved his life; maybe not as many times as he'd saved hers, but she had saved him.

If he'd seen her over the past year or so, he wouldn't have recognised the person she'd become. If he'd met her for the first time over that same period, he'd never have invited her to travel with him. But that person wasn't the real Rose Tyler.

Her ambition returned, along with the final stretch of her A-levels. When Sarah-Jane asked what she wanted to do once she had her qualifications, she actually had an answer.

"I'm not completely sure yet. But something interesting. Something that'll let me use my brain. Finding things out, maybe. Dunno what that'd be, though."

Sarah gave her a slow smile. "Actually, I might know of something that could interest you. How would you feel about working for a newspaper?"

"Doing what?" A newspaper? Sarah's paper?

"Researching, eventually. To start with, just running around doing anything anyone wants you to do. But prove yourself at that and you'll be given more interesting jobs."

That sounded good. "I'm definitely interested. There's a job?"

"There will be. Not at the magazine - it's in the Sunday Times, so you wouldn't be working directly with me. But that's probably a good thing. Give me your CV and I'll have a word with the section head for you, see if I can get you an interview."

"Thank you!" She felt a wide smile spread over her face. And that was good. She hadn't smiled like that in a very long time. But it was time. The past needed to be left where it belonged, and she had a future to build.

***

She got the job. Suddenly, she was Rose Tyler, junior researcher at the Sunday Times. The pay was crap and the hours were long, but it was better than minimum wage and the work was interesting.

She moved out of her mum's flat, getting a bedsit closer to work. It was tiny and run-down, but it was hers. Sarah came to the Powell Estates with her car to help transport all her belongings, and her mum came over to help clean the new place. Howard came, too; seemed he was good at DIY and a few things needed fixing up. Several hours of hard work later, the bedsit was clean, functional and home. They celebrated over pizza at a local bistro.

And she got her A-levels, too. In history, physics and chemistry. Good grades; two As and a B. Good enough to get her into university - maybe not Oxford or Cambridge, but almost any other university she wanted. If getting a degree appealed. And it might, at some point. Sarah thought she should at least consider it.

Maybe. The main thing was that she knew she was capable of it. Whether or not she actually did it wasn't important.

What mattered most was that she'd moved on. Got on with her life. Made a life for herself. She had a career, one that seemed to have prospects. She had a place of her own. She'd even been out on a couple of dates, though so far never twice with the same man. That would happen, though.

She'd never forget the Doctor. But she was learning to live without him, and that it was possible to be happy again.

***

And then it was 2012. The year they'd been in Utah. When they'd met the Dalek.

Some time this year, she knew exactly where the Doctor would be.

Not the Doctor she'd left, but still the Doctor. The Doctor she'd known first. The Doctor she'd loved first - and had been willing to die for. Who'd died for her, she was now very sure.

She'd never actually found out the exact date they'd been in Van Statten's museum, though. Just that it'd been 2012. She'd said she'd be twenty-six. In reality, she was, of course, though only she knew that she was still twenty-five because of that missing year.

Just as well she'd never known the precise date. Otherwise she'd have been looking up flights to Salt Lake City. And that would be stupid. Insane.

But then she remembered something else.

On the nineteenth of May this year, the Doctor was in Manchester. In Adam Mitchell's house. She knew the date, and the precise time, because she'd heard him as he'd set the co-ordinates. She didn't know Adam's address, but that wouldn't be difficult. Not for a newsroom researcher, with all the resources of the Sunday Times at her disposal.

She could go there. Break into the house. Wait for the TARDIS to arrive. And see the Doctor again.

Several times, she looked up train times online. Twice, she went to the Trainline website, and even went through the process of booking a ticket. All the way, only to falter when it was time to send her credit card details to finish the purchase.

Because what would he think if she turned up out of the blue there?

He'd called her the best that day. What would he think if she did that? She'd already caused a paradox once, and got him killed as a result. Okay, for him that wouldn't have happened yet, but for her it had. She knew the consequences of having two of her in the one place. She knew the logistical nightmare it would cause him if she turned up and insisted that he take her with him, while he still had the younger her with him.

And what did she want him to do with her, anyway? Keep her with him? He couldn't do that. Take her back to the later him? But she'd sworn she wouldn't go back. It was too late. She'd made her decision, and she was sticking to it. For herself, but also for him. She knew that being without her was better for him.

Most of all, though, she didn't want the Doctor, the one she'd known first, to know what a complete mess she'd made of everything simply through her own selfishness and idiocy. She didn't want him to know that she wasn't having the fantastic life he'd wanted her to have.

Oh, her life wasn't bad. She didn't hate it. Most days, she liked it. But it wasn't the life she'd had with the Doctor. And she still missed that life. Missed it - and him - more than she could ever express.

On the nineteenth of May, she couldn't sit still all day. Kept looking at her watch, or the nearest clock. Kept counting down the time until 5.25pm, which was when they'd materialised in Adam's living-room.

Once the clock had ticked past 5.30, she walked out of the newsroom and into the nearest pub, and ordered a glass of wine. By the time she left a couple of hours later, she'd had four. She took the Tube home and cried herself to sleep.

On the twentieth of May, she started breathing normally again.

And then she made a decision. Something she should have done five years ago, and she'd only been pretending to do. She put the Doctor firmly in the past.

Her TARDIS key, still carried around wherever she went, went into the back of a drawer. Her super-mobile went into the same drawer, and she bought a new phone. Not jiggery-poked, this one couldn't phone home from the end of the universe. It couldn't call the TARDIS.

And the single photograph she had of herself with the Doctor, taken one day when she'd been fooling around with the new phone she'd got not long before they landed in the parallel universe - the one that had stayed with Mickey - came out of her wallet. She wrapped it in tissue-paper and put it in the back of the same drawer, with the other souvenirs of her TARDIS days.

It was time to move on.

***

"Be happy, Mum." She wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her tight.

"Thanks, love. I know `e's not your dad, but Howard's a good bloke."

"He is," she agreed. And he was. She really liked Howard. And, most important, he was good to her mum. He'd wanted to marry her, too, which was more than any of her other boyfriends over the years had ever suggested.

It had been a lovely wedding, too. It was a beautiful and sunny August day as they spilled out from the registry office into the high street and into the cars laid on to take them to the restaurant where Howard was taking them to dinner. Just a small group; besides the newly-weds, a couple of her mum's close friends, Sarah-Jane and a man she resolutely denied was a boyfriend but whom Rose knew had stayed over at her friend's house more than once, and Colin.

Colin, a newish reporter on the Sunday Times political staff, who'd asked her out several times over the past couple of months. She'd finally said yes on the twentieth of May. The day she'd finally said goodbye to the Doctor.

He was... nice. Sweet, really. Intelligent and funny, especially when it came to politics, current affairs and journalism. In other aspects, he just hadn't a clue. She couldn't even begin to imagine how he'd react if she mentioned travelling to other planets, other galaxies, other times, even other universes. As for aliens, like so many other people now he'd convinced himself they didn't exist. That bemused her - hadn't seeing the Sycorax on television put it beyond doubt? - but, as she and Sarah-Jane had concluded, the Doctor was right. Humans could be pretty stupid.

She could almost hear her first Doctor say it. You're happy to believe in something that doesn't exist, but when it's starin' you in the face... Nope! Can't see it!

She knew her mum was hoping that things would work out for her with Colin. So far, she hadn't disillusioned her, but one day she was going to have to. The relationship wasn't going anywhere. Hadn't gone anywhere further than a few kisses. She just wasn't interested in more; he didn't interest her enough to want more. Sure, she liked him, but she was going to have to make it clear very soon that she wasn't going to fall in love with him. And she didn't want to sleep with him. Unless he'd worked that out for himself already, which was very possible.

Maybe some day she'd find someone she could fall in love with. Correction: someone else she could fall in love with.

***

"...and then he said he didn't see why he should have to take the blame for the voters' obvious stupidity in failing to elect his party, so he wasn't going to resign."

"He didn't?" Rose burst out laughing. "You're going to print that, right?"

Sarah grinned. "I'm sure I'll get a phone call later from the party's spin doctor giving me all the reasons why I shouldn't."

"And you'll pretend to listen and print it anyway?"

"Depends what they're willing to promise me not to." Sarah drained her cappuccino.

"Want another?" Rose started looking around for a waiter.

"Don't have time, I'm afraid. I have to be at the Prime Minister's office in forty-five minutes and it'll take me half an hour or so to get there."

"On a Sunday?"

"She said it was the only time she had available." Sarah shrugged lightly. "One doesn't argue with the Prime Minister."

"True. And, yeah, this is your Following in Thatcher's Footsteps interview, isn't it? Harriet's gonna love that." She grinned. "Why not Blair, anyway? He won three terms too."

"True." Sarah pushed back her chair. "But I was thinking of the anatomical similarity, rather than the political persuasion." She grinned too. "Not that I'm sure Harriet would be any more flattered by a Blair comparison. She was never one of his acolytes."

"Yeah, she told us she was just a lowly backbencher when we first met her." All those years ago, trapped in Downing Street being chased by Slitheen. "Obviously Blair never thought she was good enough." But Harriet had survived the Slitheen and Blair hadn't.

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that you know her. Shall I give her your regards?"

She smiled ruefully. "Best not. Last time I saw her... well, let's just say the Doctor didn't exactly manage to win friends and influence people. Remember the health scare?"

"What, back in her first term?" Sarah hesitated, about to leave, one hand on the back of her chair.

"Yeah. That was the Doctor. She gave the order to blow the Sycorax ship out of the sky. He called it genocide and started the rumour about her health."

Sarah shook her head. "Sounds like the Doctor, all right. I think I won't mention it, though."

"Not if you want to get your interview, I wouldn't." Strange how the Doctor seemed to crop up in conversation out of the blue. But she'd actually managed to mention him today and not feel the usual emptiness inside. Maybe she'd finally succeeded in relegating him to the past. Maybe from now on she could think of him with fondness, but no more.

"Anyway, I must go." With a quick hug, Sarah hurried away. Rose watched her leave, her table on the pavement outside the café allowing her to follow her friend all the way to the nearby Tube station.

She didn't have to be anywhere yet. Catching a waiter's eye, she ordered another cappuccino.

So, the Doctor had been right - well, right the first time. Harriet Jones had made it to her three terms, and the media were still referring to the past decade as Britain's golden age. It was so weird, seeing events unfold as he'd told her they would. It felt as if she'd, ordinary Rose Tyler, had a hand in shaping the history of her country. Though, actually, she supposed she had, really. She'd been the one to suggest they all take cover in that cupboard, and the Doctor'd told her later that had saved their lives.

She'd saved the life of Harriet Jones, future - now present - Prime Minister. Something to be proud of, even if no-one would ever believe her and it'd never make the history books.

She sipped her coffee, sitting back in her chair and beginning to read the newspaper she'd brought with her. Today's Sunday Times - not a paper she'd ever have read all those years ago, and still today it wasn't her favourite read, but mainly for its political slant now rather than its serious nature. It had been a slow news week, and that was reflected in the paper, she noted. But then, it was July, traditionally a slower time of year for hard news.

July 2013. Over six years since... but she wasn't thinking about that.

She flipped a page, then noticed the byline of a reporter she'd done a lot of research for in the past couple of weeks. This was the story she'd been helping him with. A grin on her face, she began reading, looking for evidence of her participation. The grin grew wider as she spotted pieces of information she'd come up with, including a couple of facts the company concerned had been very anxious to conceal.

She was good. Very good, in fact. She'd already been promoted twice since joining the Sunday Times. Just recently, too, her boss had hinted that she should apply for the journalist training programme. Sarah was encouraging her to do that, too, but she hadn't decided yet. She'd enjoyed these years working for the paper, but wasn't convinced that it was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

There was all this knowledge she had. All this experience. All the stuff she knew about the universe. About time. About aliens. There had to be a way she could use that, and she was keeping an eye out for opportunities. Okay, most of the country was convinced that aliens didn't exist, but there were still people who knew they did. And those people had to be doing something about it. She wanted in on that if she...

She shivered suddenly. She was getting the oddest feeling. As if someone was watching her. Not just a casual glance, but staring intently at her.

About to look around, she hesitated. Then, her actions apparently casual, she reached into her handbag for her make-up mirror. Pretending to examine her nose, she used it to look around and scan the area behind her.

What she saw made her freeze. It couldn't be. No. She was imagining things. It was just someone with a similar build. Similar style of dress. That was all.

But...

She couldn't breathe. What if...?

It wasn't. It couldn't be. And she'd prove it.

She stood up and turned around, looking at the spot across the road where she'd seen the man in her mirror.

He was there, leaning against a bus shelter. Dark hair, leather jacket, just as she remembered. And his gaze was focused directly on her - though, as she turned, he tried to duck out of sight. But he was too slow for her.

She couldn't breathe. It was him. How, she had no idea. But it was.

A choke in her voice, she cried, "Doctor!" And, knocking her chair over in her haste, she ran out into the road, towards him.

***

Chapter 4: Ghost of the Past

Rose Tyler.

It was her, all right.

He'd seen her a couple of minutes ago as he'd been walking past. Her blonde hair had attracted his attention, as had something in the way she'd moved to turn the page of her newspaper. But then, Rose would always attract his attention.

It wasn't his Rose, of course. She was safely back in 2006, with her mum. This was an older Rose - probably even the right age to be in this year, which meant one of two things. Either he'd taken her home for a visit... or she wasn't travelling with him any more.

Something told him it was more likely the latter. After all, if he'd taken her back for a visit she'd be with her mum. If she'd gone somewhere else on a visit home, then he'd be with her. Wouldn't he?

Whichever it was, this was a future-Rose. Which meant that he couldn't afford to let her see him. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

And yet he couldn't bring himself to walk on past. Couldn't miss the opportunity to see how Rose would look in a few years' time. Fully grown to womanhood, as opposed to being on the verge of it.

Bad idea. Because suddenly she was looking around. Staring right at him.

He ducked out of sight, but he obviously hadn't been fast enough, because he saw her eyes widen. Shock and disbelief chased each other across her face.

And then she was calling to him, a note of anguish in her voice that tore at his hearts. And she was running out into the road, risking her life, the stupid ape, to get to him.

Well, hell.

Looking quickly from side to side, he ran out, dodging traffic, and got to her, grabbing her arm and steering her safely back to her side of the road.

Once there, he let go of her and stood, studying her. That was when he noticed it. The way she was looking at him. The paleness of her expression. Her wide, shocked eyes. The moisture in those eyes.

He frowned, eyes narrowing. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Her answer chilled him to the bone. "Yeah. I'm lookin' at one." And the choke in her voice as she finished made his hearts wrench. "You, Doctor."

***

It was him.

Oh, god, it was really him. Her Doctor. Her first Doctor. Alive. And standing right in front of her. Close enough to touch.

Tears pricked at her eyes. God. She hadn't cried over the Doctor in months. But then she'd never expected to see this Doctor again. And the last time she'd seen him he'd died right in front of her.

"Rose?" He was frowning at her. And the way he said her name... it brought back so many memories. Wonderful memories. Painful memories.

Her Doctor. Her first Doctor. The man - the alien - she'd loved so much. Who she'd almost died for. The Doctor she'd always wanted to just hold in her arms for ever and take his pain away. The Doctor who'd always been able to comfort her with just one touch, whose grin could make everything right with her world. The Doctor who'd first introduced her to the universe and time-travel.

The Doctor she'd first fallen in love with, before she'd fallen just as hard for his next regeneration.

A choked sob escaped her. "You died, Doctor."

A look of enlightenment - an expression she remembered so well - crossed his face. "Ah."

She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, god. I shouldn't've told you that, should I?"

He tensed. "No. You shouldn't." Then he relaxed, and gave her that smile she remembered so well, too. "But you have, and we'll just forget about it for now."

Forget about it? How could he do that?

And if he was dead, how could he be here?

But of course. Time travel. This was some time while he was still alive. Some time while she was travelling with him.

"But, yeah, we shouldn't be having this conversation," he continued. "Really, I should just walk away now an' forget we've met."

Oh, please, no...

She wouldn't cling. Wouldn't plead with him to stay.

And then his face creased into another smile. "But sod what I should do."

As she kept staring at him, still feeling that she should be pinching herself, he held out his arms. And, with an inarticulate cry, she launched herself at him. He enfolded her in his embrace, his so-familiar embrace.

He was the same. Exactly the same as she remembered. The scratchy wool of his jumper against her cheek. The smooth leather of his jacket. His arms tight around her. His very short hair against her own. The way they fit together, her head tucked into the hollow of his shoulder, his head against hers. The subtle male, Time Lord scent of him.

"Oh, god, Doctor..." And now the tears were coming properly. She tried to hide them, keeping her face buried against him, but he wouldn't let her. His embrace loosened and he held her back from him.

"Don't cry for me, Rose." He freed one hand and, with his thumb, brushed her tears away. "Don't. I'm not worth it. Never was, me." And his smile was gentle, caring. Just as she remembered it.

"You are. You always were." She caught his hand and clung to it.

"Rose."

Oh, how many times had she heard him say her name in her head just like that? And how often had she wished for the chance to hear him say it again in reality, just once?

And here he was. Really here.

He released her and gestured behind her, and she glanced back, then saw the table she'd been sitting at until a couple of minutes ago. Taking up his suggestion, she resumed her seat. He walked around and dropped into the chair opposite her.

"So," he said, one eyebrow raised, "you saw me through a regeneration? Must've been a shock, I'm guessing."

She nodded, trying to regain her composure now. "Yeah. Was that, all right. Specially as I didn't remember anything about what happened before it. Think I'd fainted or something. Then I came round and next thing you were goin' on about dogs - " She halted abruptly. "Sorry. Forgot. Shouldn't be tellin' you any of this stuff."

"No." He looked slightly uncomfortable. "So let's talk about somethin' else."

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "What're you doing here? And..." She looked around, worried suddenly, as a thought occurred to her. "Where am I?"

He grinned. "Nothin' to worry about there, I promise. You're safely back in 2006, visitin' your mum. I left you there an' said I'd be back in a few hours."

Right. Of course, he'd never come in with her if he could avoid it. She wondered how he'd react if she told him that the regenerated him had actually had Christmas dinner with her mum and had wandered in and out of the flat as if it was a second home whenever they'd been in London. And that he'd hugged her mum several times. She stifled a grin. He'd probably pass out.

Then she focused on what he'd said. "Oh? You jus' got back from Corralus Major, then?" She remembered that. Another place he'd taken her to because he'd said she'd love it. A beautiful and fascinating planet, with really friendly inhabitants, he'd told her. Yeah. It would've been beautiful, before the asteroid collision that'd destroyed most of the surface of one side of the planet, and before the space raiders who'd arrived looking for any scrap they could salvage. The remaining inhabitants had been struggling to rebuild their battered, devastated planet and had been suspicious as hell of any strangers.

As usual, she and the Doctor had ended up running for their lives.

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Yeah, we `ave. You remember that?"

"Vividly." She grinned at him.

And he laughed too. "Remember getting your hair caught on that bush?"

"Oh, god, yeah!" It'd hurt like hell. She'd been running, and suddenly it'd felt as if half her hair was being ripped out by the roots. A stupid thorn-bush. A stupid, vicious thorn-bush. She'd sworn the thing had done it deliberately. He'd laughed at her, telling her she was imagining it, before very gently and carefully disentangling her, then hugging her because she'd been near to tears with pain.

And, yes, he'd taken her home for a visit after that. Not because she was upset or anything, but because she'd realised she hadn't been home for a while and thought she probably should drop in. Strange. It'd never occurred to her to wonder what the Doctor'd done while she'd been there.

He'd never told her that he'd met a future her. But then, he wouldn't. That was the Doctor all over. He knew so much: about the past, the present and the future; about everything that could be and might never be. And he only ever told people what he thought they needed to know, when they needed to know it.

It'd infuriated her at times, of course. But it was just the way he was. A Time Lord thing, presumably. He did have to be careful to avoid changing history accidentally - just as she was having to avoid, now, telling him too much about his own future.

Still, though, did he remember? Had he known, all the time they were together, that she would meet him here, today, years after she'd left him?

"So, what're you doing here? In 2013?"

He smiled ruefully. "Remember Adam?"

"Oh, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "What a moron."

"Yeah." His expression was scathing. "We dumped him a couple of weeks ago. Occurred to me I really should check, make sure nothin' happened to change history. I mean, he's got that communication device in his head. Could be dangerous, that. So..." He shrugged faintly. "Went to a few points in time over the next few decades. Makin' sure. Was workin' backwards, so this is my last check."

"Right." She nodded. "I did wonder, y'know, whether sendin' `im back like that was dangerous."

"Should've said it to me at the time." His tone was very faintly chiding, though she knew he was blaming himself more than her.

"Didn't think of it then. This is seven years later for me, remember."

"Right. Course." He nodded, and his expression turned distant. She sensed that he wanted to ask her about those seven years, but was reluctant.

And she was torn. There was so much she wanted to ask him. So many questions she had about him, but how could she ask without giving away things he couldn't know about? Shouldn't know?

Oh, god, things he didn't know...

In a while, he was going to go back to 2006 and pick her up. The past her. And they'd go travelling again, and in a few days' time she was going to ask him to do something for her. A favour. And she was going to take the human race to the brink of extinction, and kill him.

He must have been so disappointed in her. So angry - well, she knew how angry he'd been at the time. But afterwards, too. Only a few weeks before that, he'd called her the best. And then she'd done that.

Not the best at all. Far from it.

She couldn't tell him. Couldn't ask him to say no to any favour the younger her might ask in the next week or so. Because time just didn't work out like that; that was something he, in both his incarnations, had taught her.

But maybe there was something she could say, something that wouldn't give too much away...

"Doctor..." Hesitantly, she began. He nodded encouragingly at her. "You know that people make mistakes, right? And they don't mean to, an' they're sorry afterwards?"

"What's this about?" He frowned. "Don't tell me you're trying to get me to forgive that moron Adam?"

"Oh!" She shook her head. "No. You were right to dump him at home. No, I meant - " But she halted. She couldn't be any more specific. Couldn't even hint at it. It was too dangerous.

His eyes narrowed. And then he relaxed. Smiled, even. "You trying to tell me that you made a mistake, Rose?"

She nodded. Should have known that he'd pick up on what she meant.

"I'm sure you did. It happens. Like you said, people do." He gave her a straight, serious look. "You've seen me make mistakes plenty of times."

"Yeah, but this is different. This - " She couldn't say any more without giving away too much. She'd probably already given away too much.

He studied her for a few moments. "Tell me this, Rose Tyler. Did I throw you out after whatever it was you did? Or did I forgive you?"

Quietly, she said, "You forgave me."

His smile warmed her. "Then I've got nothin' to worry about, do I? An' nor do you."

He was right. He had forgiven her. Because, as he'd told her afterwards, he'd been wrong the first time, when he'd accused her of planning it. And because she'd taken responsibility for what she'd done and said she was sorry.

"Thanks, Doctor." She smiled back at him, and he reached across the table, covering her hand with his.

***

His first impression hadn't been wrong. She was unhappy about something. And it wasn't just seeing him again knowing that he'd died.

Although she was doing her best to hide it, there was something wrong. Something involving him. What he wasn't sure yet was whether it involved him or his next regeneration.

What he did know was that it wasn't something he should even consider asking her about. Too dangerous. And yet she'd already told him several things he shouldn't know about: that he died; that she did something very foolish, for which he would probably be angry with her and that she was ashamed of; and that she wasn't with him any more. Though that last was a guess rather than anything she'd told him.

Already, he was going to have to make sure he forgot all about this encounter. So what did it matter if he let her tell him more about his future and her past?

Because there was one thing he did know: Rose was unhappy, and it had something to do with him.

"So." He leaned across the table, catching and holding her gaze, and squeezed her hand again. "You're not travelling with me any more?"

She looked taken aback. "How'd you know that?"

"Lucky guess." He grinned at her. Not so lucky, of course. She just had no idea how obvious she'd made it.

"Oh. Right." And her gaze slid away.

Ah. Well, that just confirmed it. Whatever the problem was, there was no doubt that he had something to do with it. Probably all wrapped up with why she wasn't with him any more.

His brow creased as a thought occurred to him. Had his successor just dumped her off at home? Left her behind?

It wouldn't be anything new, of course. He'd done it to companions before, left them behind or sent them away from him before they were ready to leave. Sometimes because he thought they were ready to leave, but more often because he concluded it was the best or safest thing for them.

Had he ever thought about what the impact would be on them afterwards?

Probably not. He'd just assumed that he knew best and left it at that. Said goodbye and left them to get on with their lives. And, of course, he never came back. Never dropped in to see how they were. No human rituals like exchanging Christmas cards or the occasional phone call.

"What happened?" he asked. "Did I send you away?"

If he hadn't been watching her so carefully, he'd have missed her flinch.

Sensitive topic. Ah. So he had.

Then she met his gaze again. "Is that what you always do, Doctor? Leave people behind?"

His eyes widened. That'd been intended to attack. To wound. And so the future him had dumped her.

Well, damnit anyway. What had he been thinking? And what the hell had happened to make him do it?

"That what I did to you?" He withdrew his hand.

She sighed and looked away. "No. But I met someone you did do it to."

Ah. Somehow, she ran into a former companion. Well, probably not that difficult to do. There were quite a few around, of course. Again, he shouldn't ask. Wasn't as if he even wanted to know. "Who?"

Her eyes flashed with something like anger. "Sarah-Jane."

What? "Sarah-Jane Smith?"

She'd met Sarah-Jane?

"Yeah."

"When'd you meet her?" Recently? How old would Sarah be now? Or had Rose somehow met her in the past? No... that would mean he would've taken her there, and he wouldn't do that.

Rose shrugged. "First time was six years ago. I was still travellin' with you at the time. She turned up - " Abruptly, she broke off. "Shouldn't be tellin' you this. Jus' take it that we - you an' me - met her. An' I found out that you just left her. An' you know you never even mentioned her to me. Or anyone else you travelled with, for that matter."

It was his turn to look away. "I don't do that."

"Right." Now her tone was scathing. "Because it's too human, right? Cause it means you might actually have to care about someone."

Shocked, he stared at her. "I do care about people!" He cared about her. And if somehow the later him had given her the impression that he didn't... Well, he'd just have to correct it.

"Yeah, but only for as long as they're around. Then they go an' you never mention them again. Out of sight, out of mind."

So bitter. So hurt. Oh, Rose.

"No. Never." He shook his head. "I remember them, Rose. All of them. And just cause they're not with me any more doesn't mean I stop caring `bout them."

She swallowed then and shook her head slightly. "You told me - the later you. You said... you said we - humans - wither and die. An' you just regenerate an' live on alone. An' that's why you walk away. That's why you leave us behind."

Why on earth had he said that to her? Oh, of course, it was true. That was exactly why he never went back once he'd left someone. Or they'd left him. Because it was too hard. And not only for him - for them, too. Because they would have moved on with their lives, and they certainly wouldn't want him turning up like a ghost at the feast.

But he hadn't had to tell Rose that he never made contact with past companions, surely?

The fact was that his next self had. So he supposed he had no choice but to try to repair the damage his tenth incarnation had caused.

"Yeah, `s why I don't ever go back once someone's stopped travellin' with me, yeah. Rose, you know how old I am. An' now you know about regeneration you know it's not easy to kill me. But, anyway, think about it. Leave aside time travel an' the way I can be in 2006 two hours ago with nineteen-year-old you, and in 2013 with you now. Say I came back to visit you every year or so for the rest of your life. You'd get older. Unless I regenerated, I'd look more or less the same. Apart from the question of how you could explain that to anyone, how would that make you feel? And how d'you think it'd make me feel seein' you get old an' die like that when I'm just the same?"

She shrugged again. "I get that, Doctor. I'm not stupid. But you could at least be kinder when you get rid of people."

What had the future him done to her? "Rose, what happened to you?"

She shook her head. "Not me. Sarah-Jane."

"What?" This conversation was taking a bizarre turn.

"You mean you don't even remember?" She looked horrified. "You dumped her. Told her you were goin' home - back to your planet - an' she couldn't come."

"She couldn't!" he protested. "Humans weren't allowed - "

"Yeah. An' what'd you do? Took her home. Never told her you weren't coming back for her. She was just left. Waiting for you. An' you never came."

He could only stare at Rose. Sarah'd really thought he'd come back? But he thought she'd understood it was a final farewell. Because... well, because it was time. And because he didn't do that. Didn't go back for people.

Well, okay, he'd gone back for Rose after she said no, but that was different. Sort of.

"I thought she understood." That was all he could manage to say in his own defence.

"You mean you didn't bother to explain. An' you know what else?"

"What?"

"You didn't even take her home. Croydon, right?"

Hating how defensive he sounded, he said, "Yeah. That's where I took her. Wasn't it?"

"Try Aberdeen." Oh, shit.

And then Rose sighed. "God. I'm doin' it again. I shouldn't be tellin' you this stuff `bout Sarah. Cause you - the next you's supposed to find out next year."

He shrugged. It really didn't matter. He wouldn't remember it anyway. "Why're you so upset about Sarah, anyway? After, what, one meeting?"

It didn't make that much sense. He wouldn't have thought, on the surface, that Rose would have that much in common with Sarah-Jane Smith - well, the present-day Sarah, anyway. Under the surface, yes, she reminded him a lot of Sarah. Intelligent, belligerent, inclined to challenge him and stand up to him, and apt to act as his conscience. And also warm, caring and able to get under his skin and make him care about her in a way he never expected to, never wanted to.

She laughed, but without much humour. "Shows what you know, Doctor. She's been my best friend for the last six years. Don't think I'd've made it through without her. She even helped me get my job."

Best friends? Sarah and Rose?

Oh, Rassilon... that sent shivers through him. The idea of the two of them, swapping stories about him, comparing notes...

"If you'd been five minutes earlier, you'd've seen her," Rose added. "We were having coffee together before she had to go - she's interviewing Harriet Jones," she added with a grin.

He could've seen Sarah... He had to squash the sudden leap of his hearts at that idea. Yes, it would've been nice, but also hellish. Especially if she did harbour the kind of resentment obvious from what Rose had said.

Besides, he didn't do that. Didn't go back. Didn't revisit the past.

He shook his head. "Best not. But, when you see her, tell her..." He winced. Tell her what? That he was sorry? That he missed her? That he'd never forgotten her? Would any of those help? Or would they just add insult to injury? He sighed. "No. Don't tell her anything. Maybe `s best if you don't even tell her you've seen me."

Rose nodded. And then he remembered what else she'd said.

She's been my best friend for the last six years. Don't think I'd've made it through without her.

Six years. She'd been back home for that long? That meant she'd left him about a year from now in his timeline. And... made it through? Made it through what?

"Rose." Grimly, he held her gaze, his voice almost harsh in its intensity. "Tell me. Why did you stop travelling with me?"

***

Chapter 5: Truth and Consequences

She'd known that would come up sooner or later. And she still hadn't a clue what she was going to tell him.

"Doctor, I..." She looked away. How could she explain it to him - this him - now, when she hadn't been able to tell the other him?

"What happened?" he persisted. "Did he - I - leave you behind?"

She couldn't let him think that. That he would've done that to her. Even if she had no doubt that he would if he thought it was necessary. Anyway, he'd sent her away from him once. Well, this Doctor hadn't yet, but he would. Even still... no, she owed him the truth, or as much of it as she could safely tell him.

"I left him. You. I... I just couldn't do it any more, Doctor."

He seemed surprised. "What? The travelling? You wanted to go home? Back to Ricky the Idiot an' borin' nights in front of the telly? I thought better of you, Rose Tyler."

"No." Anger made her snap at him. Mickey. Not Ricky. And anyway, Mickey hadn't been there for her to go back to. "I didn't go back to that, anyway. And that's not why I left."

"Then why?" And then he looked sad and disappointed. "You couldn't cope with my regeneration."

"You really don't have a lot of faith in me, Doctor, do you?" Hurt, she looked away, and then began to reach for her handbag. This conversation was just too painful. Time to leave.

His hand covering hers again brought back a rush of memories. Tears pricked at her eyes. "I've always had faith in you, Rose. So why don't you tell me what happened?"

Suddenly, she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But then she remembered. "I can't. `S all your future, Doctor. You're not s'posed to know."

His eyes held hers, an expression in them that she remembered so well. That she'd loved so much. "Think I can cope with that, Rose Tyler."

"But... Isn't it dangerous, Doctor?" Tempting, oh, so very tempting to tell him everything. The way she'd used to talk to him about stupid things she'd done, or things that made her feel bad, and he'd always listened, and patted her shoulder or squeezed her hand or hugged her.

He'd never given her empty platitudes. Sometimes he couldn't even say much in the way of comfort. But that was what'd helped. Because she knew he was being honest with her. And because she knew that he knew how it felt to know you'd done stupid, dangerous, disastrous things. To know that there were some things you'd never get to say sorry for.

But how could she tell him? The future him hadn't known any of this. He'd been so shocked when she'd said she was leaving.

"I know what I'm doin', Rose." His cocky grin was so familiar. As were his words. "Don't worry `bout me."

She nodded. It was strange, but even after all this time apart from him, and after all the times he'd got things disastrously wrong, there was still no-one in the world - the universe - she wanted to trust more. "Okay..."

"So, here's what's going to happen." He signalled to a waiter. "We're gonna order some more coffee." The waiter took the order, then left. "An' you're gonna tell me exactly what happened between us that made you leave me. Because it sounds to me like between us you and the future me've made a right pig's ear of things, and it's down to me to sort it out."

But still... She didn't want to cause him problems. All very well to think that maybe if she told him what'd happened he'd find a way to undo it, to make things better - but she knew from bitter experience that what was more likely to happen was that things would be worse.

"How can I tell you, Doctor? It's your future - you're not supposed to know. Won't it mess things up?"

He shook his head. "There's a way around that. Little trick I've used before. I just wipe whatever happens in the next hour or so from my memory when we're finished here. Easy." And he grinned at her.

Wipe his memory?

But he'd told her he was telepathic. So, okay, it probably did make sense. "You don't mind doin' that?"

"Nah. Told you. Done it before. An' I was already planning on doin' it. You've already told me more than it's safe for me to know. So tell me as much as you want."

As much as she wanted... She chewed her lip. Where did she even start?

"You said you couldn't do it any more." His intense gaze held hers. "Do what? Not the travellin', or the danger. The Rose Tyler I know would never be put off by that. You almost got killed by a Dalek, Rose. An' you still stayed wi' me. So what couldn't you do any more?"

"I couldn't..." Couldn't what? "Couldn't leave my mum alone."

He blinked. "What, Jackie? I know she misses you, Rose. An' that missing year didn't help. But she's old enough an' ugly enough to look after herself -" He halted abruptly. "Wait. Did somethin' happen to her?" A frown creased his face. "Rose, I'm sorry - "

"No," she said quickly. She couldn't let him think that. "No, she's fine. Better than fine now, actually. She got married again last year."

"What?" His eyes widened and a look of incredulity crossed his face. "She actually got her claws into some poor bloke?"

"Doctor!" She glared at him and swiped at him across the table with her hand. "My mum's not that bad. An' I'll `ave you know the next you got on okay with her." Okay, so she was going to give him apoplexy after all. "You even came to Christmas dinner. An' hugged her."

The look of sheer horror on his face made her choke on a giggle. "You're gonna give me nightmares, Rose Tyler." He shuddered. "Okay, so why'd she need you?"

"Long story. Mickey... Well, Mickey used to spend a lot of time with her - you know, while I was away. I s'pose he was the only one she could talk to `bout where I was, what I was doin'. An' then... well, Mickey left."

"Left?" He frowned again. "What, he finally got some gumption, did he? `Stead of hanging around waiting for you all his life?"

God, she'd forgotten how scathing he used to be about the people she cared about. "You never really gave him a chance, Doctor." And then she grimaced. "Course, I didn't either." She took a deep breath. "He came with us. In the TARDIS." She expected him to shudder at that, but to her surprise he just nodded. "We ended up in a parallel universe. Was an accident or somethin'. You said you didn't know how it'd happened. There were Cybermen there."

The Doctor gave a distinct wince at that. "Anyway, long story short - we just escaped with our lives, an' then Mickey announced he was staying there. His gran was still alive there," she added at his questioning look. "An' there were more Cyber factories to shut down - he said there was work for him to do. An' I s'pose for the first time in his life he actually felt useful. Worthwhile."

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, hands steepled in front of his face. He looked deep in thought. "Good for Mickey," he said finally. "Always knew the bloke had it in him. Somewhere."

She stared. "No, you bloody didn't! You were so horrible to him! You acted like he was just... just worthless an' stupid!"

But he shook his head. "Only at first, and can you blame me? He called me a thing, Rose! But he did good when we had to fight the Slitheen. I said I wouldn't tell you, but it doesn't matter now - I asked him to come with us after that. He said no."

Shaken, she stared at him again. "You did?"

"Yep." He threw her a quick grin. "But we're getting away from the subject here. Why did you leave me, Rose? And don't give me that about your mum. I know that`s not the real reason." His expression grew serious. "You've never lied to me before. Don't start now."

She swallowed, and dropped her gaze. She just couldn't look at him. Not now. Not when he was looking at her like that.

He was demanding a level of honesty beyond anything she felt comfortable with. Not with him. Even if this wasn't the him she'd left, he was still the Doctor. She'd still loved him. Still loved him now.

There was a grating sound, like metal over concrete. And suddenly his hand was on her chin, lifting it. "Look at me, Rose." He'd brought his chair around, closer to her. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

The expression in his eyes... oh, god. Everything she remembered him ever feeling for her: compassion, affection, friendship, and the deep love she knew he'd always had for her. Not romantic love; she didn't think it'd ever been that. But the love that'd always told her she was his best friend. Inseparable, he'd once said they were.

"Oh, Doctor..." She leaned into his touch. Couldn't help it. And he shifted his grip, letting it become a caress. "Was lots of things, really. Mickey leaving. Losing J- someone else. A good friend - someone you an' me both knew. Meeting my dad again in the parallel world, only he wasn't... And... something else."

His voice was soft. "What else?"

She had to say it now. Just couldn't hold the words back any longer. And if he reacted badly, well... she'd just have to deal with it. He'd already said he'd wipe his memory of the conversation, anyway. "I... couldn't do it any more. Couldn't pretend that... that I don't love you."

***

She what?

What the hell had the next him done? Left her thinking that he didn't love her? And how could he possibly have done that?

That was the one thing the two of them, him and Rose, were always confident of with each other. It was there in everything they did together, everything they said and didn't say, every time they touched, every look they exchanged. It was there when they laughed together, when they comforted each other, and when they didn't say anything at all.

Why would she have felt she had to pretend that feeling wasn't there?

Although... pretending. That was what he did, wasn't it? All the time. With all of them.

Pretend that they were just irritating tagalongs who got in the way, got themselves into trouble and gave him a headache having to rescue them. Pretend that if he felt any affection for them it was liking and no more. Pretend that it didn't break his hearts when they left, some of them.

He'd pretended less with Rose - yet another result of the Time War - but he'd still pretended, other than when life-and-death situations forced honesty from him. In Cardiff. In Downing Street. When she was taken from him on Justicia. When he thought the Dalek had killed her. Every time, without fail, once she was safe the mask slid back into place.

Had she started to believe the pretence? But that couldn't be. His pretence, with her, wasn't that he didn't love her. It was that he didn't need her, with every last breath in his body.

He needed more information. Releasing her, he let his expression slide into a self-deprecating smile. "Don't see why you'd need to pretend. After all the trouble I got you into? Can't see how that could've changed from here on. Love me? Want to strangle me, more like."

Instantly, she shook her head. "Don't say that, Doctor. `S not true. I wouldn't've missed it for the world. I always meant that, you know. Still do."

He reached for her hand and held it tightly. "Me too."

Okay, so what had the next him done? "Nine hundred years old, me, Rose. Think I know myself pretty well by now. Including how regeneration changes me - and doesn't change me. I look different. My personality changes. My feelings rarely do. The next me could be ugly as sin." He paused, grinning briefly as Rose shook her head in rejection. "I could've lost this sunny temperament completely an' be a right moody bastard." That made her grin. "Maybe I am nicer to your mum. But I can tell you one thing." All amusement gone, he held her gaze. "Whatever I feel for you now, the next me still felt."

And her gaze slid away again. "I know. I never doubted that," she whispered. "But... see, I was selfish, Doctor. An' greedy. I wanted more. An' he - you - were never gonna give me that."

She swallowed in the same moment as enlightenment dawned for him.

Hit him with the force of a Dalek ray, more like.

Ah.

So that was it.

A sip of coffee bought him a few seconds' breathing-space.

He did wonder, occasionally, whether the way she sometimes looked at him meant... that. Or whether it was just his imagination. Imagination, definitely, he'd concluded. Alien, him. And, while Rose didn't have the typically human reaction to aliens - urgh,

things, horrible, scary, get them away from me - she did react to his alienness. It made her curious, sometimes. And it distanced him from her in others.

Besides, she'd commented on the age-gap herself. Not just twice her age, as she'd initially assumed. Many, many times her age.

And it wasn't exactly as if he was an oil painting. So, definitely his imagination.

But, on the other hand, he was talking about this him. She was talking about the next him. Better-looking, then? Maybe even younger-looking.

He turned one of his most amused smiles on her, so she'd assume he was teasing. "Pretty, am I? The next me?"

She blushed, then looked confused. Well, he had his answer. "I know you an' your pretty boys, Rose Tyler." And he let the smile turn into a broad grin, hiding... anything... he might feel at the knowledge that she'd fancied the next him.

"You make me sound so shallow, Doctor." And she was looking upset at that. Rose had grown up. And something else was obvious: she was wishing she hadn't told him that. About fancying him - the next him.

She was right about one thing: he wouldn't have offered her more than friendship. Either this him or the next one. He didn't do that with companions. Well, hardly ever.

"Not shallow." His smile was kind. "You were just young. Carefree."

"Stupid. An' selfish." And she looked away from him again.

"You keep sayin' that. Selfish." He shook his head. "The Rose Tyler I left in 2006 isn't selfish. Less so than most people, anyway."

She pulled a face at him. " `S nice of you to say so, Doctor. But I was. I wanted you to myself. The way I treated Mickey..."

She'd wanted him to herself... He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. That sounded far too familiar for comfort.

He was frequently not honest with Rose. Or any companion, actually. But this situation called for it, he thought. "What about the way I treated him? An' your mum. An' anyone else who got in the way?"

Because he was selfish, too. And jealous. And possessive.

"Yeah, but..." she began, but then trailed off.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm selfish too, where you're concerned. But the Rose Tyler I know cares about people around her. I've seen it plenty of times. Humans, aliens, makes no difference to you. You said no to me first cause you had to look after your mum. You cared about Gwyneth's well-being when I was just focused on what I wanted. You had compassion when I wanted to kill that Dalek. Plenty more things I could remind you of. Do I need to? An' do I need to remind you about Adam? Lookin' out for himself, he was. Now, there's selfish."

Okay, maybe she had been a bit selfish where her relationship with him was concerned but, as he'd just told her, he could understand that.

"S'pose..." She didn't sound completely convinced. It didn't matter. He knew he was right.

"So, that's it?" He made his tone incredulous. "You left me just because o' that?"

"Sort of." She was playing with the chain she wore around her neck now. "At the time, I thought that was what it was."

Oh? "And now?"

She shrugged again. "There was a lot goin' on. I... don't think I was really thinking straight."

Now they were getting somewhere. Not like Rose, all the same; she always seemed to have her head firmly screwed on her shoulders. Not like that mother of hers. "What sort o' stuff?"

She stared into her cappuccino. "A lot had happened. I told you about losing people. This guy - he travelled with us for a while. He was a good friend - to both of us. He... we were in a really tight spot. He went off to fight - it was what he did. An' he knew he was gonna die. We said goodbye."

He could hear the choke in her voice. Whoever this bloke was, she'd cared deeply about him. "He did die?"

Her eyes were haunted. "I don't know. I never saw him again. An' you regenerated just after that. You told me later that he's alive, but you'd never tell me where he is or what happened to him, so it felt the same as if he'd died."

Right. So at the same time as she'd lost him, she'd lost another close friend. "That must've been hard."

"It was." She nodded. "Course, I had you still, once I got used to the new you. But then there was Mickey leaving, an' seein' my dad in the other universe, only he wasn't my dad..." She took a deep breath. "Sarah got me to see this therapist. A grief counsellor."

So many losses, so close together. And, with the life he led, she'd never had time and space to mourn. No wonder.

"See what you mean about not thinking straight." He reached for her hand, covering it with his own.

"Yeah. I - the therapist sent me to my GP, too. I was on anti-depressants for a while."

Ouch. Rose, one of the sunniest, most optimistic people he knew. Who'd done so much, with her enthusiasm and positive attitude, to shake him out of his depression and post-Time War trauma. Rose on medication for depression?

But he knew more about depression - and just about every other illness known to humankind - than anyone on Earth. He was the last person to make the mistake of assuming that depression only struck people who were miserable or had a negative attitude to life.

It had happened - understandably, in the circumstances. She'd got treatment for it. Though what bothered him was why he - the later him - hadn't noticed. Hadn't figured out what was really going on. Oh, he could be dense sometimes. He'd never deny that. And he was frequently blithely unconcerned about human emotions, seeing them as irrelevant. But this was Rose. And he also knew that his later self wouldn't have wanted her to leave.

"You okay now?" he asked, frowning in concern.

"Oh, yeah." And her smile was genuine. "Been off the medication for nearly five years. Wasn't so bad, really. Not once I stopped trying to hide what was wrong an' I let myself grieve for Mickey an' Jack an' - " She halted abruptly, but he could guess the rest. Her dad, presumably. And him; probably both hims, because she'd lost his next self just as finally as she'd lost himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she added. "I got on with my life, Doctor. Took my A-levels. Got a really good job - I like it, too. Got a place of my own. I'm doing well." She gave him a wide, confident smile. One that didn't fool him one bit. "So you don't need to worry about me."

"Right. Good to hear that, Rose Tyler. So..." He leaned back in his chair, smiling back at her, but with a hint of challenge. "Tell me this. If you could go back to the day you left me, knowing what you know now... would you still leave?"

***

Would she?

She'd asked herself that so many times. Would she go back if she could? Would she change her mind?

Going back now... that was a different matter. She'd survived more than six years without the Doctor. She'd gone through the grief and the loss and the pain and the agony of lost love, and she'd survived. She'd come through the other side, stronger, older, wiser, sadder, but she'd survived. She'd learned that there was life beyond the Doctor. That she was a worthwhile person and that she could make it without him.

That, even loving him as she did, she could survive and have a good life.

Going back now... It would just be inviting all the pain again, because inevitably she'd have to leave him again.

"Depends what you mean," she said. "If I could go back six years an' have that day again - if I was twenty again, if I realised what I was really goin' through... then I'd probably just ask you to take me home for a couple of weeks."

And then it dawned on her. What it was he might actually be asking. "You're not... You can't mean - you wouldn't turn back time? To then?"

He was still leaning back in his chair, his posture apparently totally relaxed. His expression gave her no clues whatsoever. "What do you think, Rose Tyler?"

She took a shuddering breath. "No. No, you wouldn't do that. I know you wouldn't." Of course she knew. Only too well, she knew the consequences of changing the past. Paradoxes. Weak points. Reapers. People dying.

But...

I know what I'm doing. You don't.

No. He still wouldn't. Because she'd learned, over the time she'd spent with him, that he didn't change the past unless something had happened that wasn't supposed to. He wouldn't just change it because it suited him better. Or because someone he cared about wanted him to.

"No," she repeated. "You wouldn't."

And a smile creased his face. "Good answer. You've learned well."

"Okay." She took a few steadying breaths. Of course he'd never meant that. "So, you mean hypothetically, if I knew I was just prob'ly depressed or something - well, like I said, I think I'd just have asked for some time at home."

He nodded. That would've been a sensible thing to do. "Wonder why I didn't suggest it?"

She shrugged. "Didn't give you a chance, really. I told you I wanted to go home. For good. An' you asked why. I didn't really explain - jus' said I thought it was time. I... well, I'm pretty sure you wanted to try to talk me out of it, but you did what I wanted. An' I was glad. I didn't want you talking me out of it."

"I wouldn't have, anyway. I don't do that. If someone wants to leave me, `s their decision. I'd never try to keep someone against their will. Even you." He shifted in his chair again, leaning forward over the table. "Well, what's done is done."

It was. The past, as he'd once said to her, was another country. "Yeah." And now he was going to say goodbye, and go back to the younger her. The one who was lucky enough to be still travelling with him. The one who'd taken it all for granted, never really understanding just how fortunate she was. " `S been great seein' you again, Doctor. You take care."

His eyes widened. "Goin' somewhere, Rose Tyler?"

"Well..." She faltered. "Assumed you were."

He grinned. "Don't assume, Rose. Never assume where I'm concerned." And then his expression changed, became serious again. "I said I was goin' to sort this out, didn't I? An' I haven't done that yet."

Slowly, she shook her head. "There's nothin' to sort out."

"Oh, yes, there is." And the smile was back. "What if I offered to take you back to the TARDIS? Back to the me you were travellin' with?"

***

Chapter 6: Second Chance

She could go back? Now?

Back to the TARDIS. Back to the Doctor - the Doctor after this one. To what she'd had before; what she'd so stupidly thrown away all those years ago and bitterly regretted ever since.

But did she want to?

She'd built a life for herself. Got used to being back on Earth, got qualifications, a job, friends. A way of surviving. She'd put her past behind her. Was it sensible to walk away from all that for the chance of another year, maybe a couple of years, with the Doctor, and then having to go through the pain of separation again after that?

On the other hand, nothing over the past six years had even come close to giving her the satisfaction, the pure joy she'd had in that life with the Doctor. Or the rush of excitement she'd had just now when he'd made the offer.

She chewed her lip. "He - you - said I could change my mind. That I could call any time an' say I wanted to come back."

"And you didn't." Again, he was looking perfectly relaxed. "So, that means you don't want to go back? You're content to be back here, are you? Happy with your normal, borin' little human life? Get up, go to work, come home, eat beans on toast, go to sleep?" As he continued talking, his tone grew more scathing. "Or - no, I didn't think of that, did I? You got a new boyfriend? Or maybe you're married." He glanced at her hand. "Or livin' with someone."

"No." Quickly, too quickly, she denied it. "There's no-one."

Was that an expression of relief on his face, or had she imagined it? "But you still didn't want to go back. You surprise me, Rose Tyler. Thought you wanted more out o' life than this." A wave of his hand encompassed everything around them.

A burst of anger swept through her. "That's not fair, Doctor. It wasn't that simple."

"Never is, with you lot." His expression was scornful. "So, go on, convince me. How was it not that simple? Either you wanted it or you didn't."

That was so familiar. He always did that - switched from friendly to concerned to affectionate to angry or sarcastic in less than the blink of an eye. She'd forgotten how... unsettling it could be. And how painful, too, sometimes.

"I'd already left you!" she exclaimed. "An' it was the most painful thing I ever did in my life, Doctor. Way more painful than waitin' for that Dalek to kill me. More than losin' Mickey. An' I knew if I went back I'd only have to leave you again some day. I didn't know if I could go through that again."

"An' it doesn't occur to you that I have to do that all the time?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Rose, how many times do you think I've had to lose people I care about? Okay, people I love." His pitch fell to little more than a whisper at that. "I've done it over an' over again. An' does it stop me askin' people to travel with me? Or lettin' myself care about them?"

Slowly, she shook her head. The pain in his expression... god, she hadn't seen him look like that since he'd told her his planet was gone.

"Life's about experiencing pain," he continued. "Gettin' hurt. It's one way you know you're alive."

And she remembered him - the later him - saying something very similar more than six years earlier. When they'd been Lumic's prisoners inside his Battersea headquarters. When Lumic had been trying to persuade the Doctor to volunteer for Cyberisation.

That pain was necessary. Grief, too. That, no matter how much any of it hurt, he wouldn't give it up. Because it was part of life. Because it was necessary.

And because, she thought, without the experience of pain joy just wouldn't mean as much.

"You're right," she told him, a lump in her throat again.

"I'm always right." And another smile flashed across his face, before he sobered again and reached for her hand once more. "You've never run away from risks, Rose Tyler. Not the Rose I know, anyway. An' I'm betting you didn't run away from risks as long as you stayed with me."

She shook her head, remembering everything they'd done, all the dangers they'd experienced, every time she - and the Doctor, but sometimes she on her own - had run into danger. Taken a risk, because it was the only way out.

"You're right," she repeated, and a smile spread across her face. "Some things are worth the risk of getting your heart broken again."

His hand tightened around hers. "An' maybe you'll find a way that won't happen. Maybe next time, when you leave, we'll both be ready an' it'll be okay."

She couldn't see how leaving him would ever not hurt. But maybe she was willing to risk it. "Yeah. Maybe."

"So." Another face-splitting smile from him. "Will I take you back to me?"

Was it really as simple as that? One word from her and she could be back with him. Travelling with him again. Doing what she'd loved most in her whole life, with the person she still loved more than anyone.

She'd spent the last six years telling herself she wouldn't go back. But the Doctor was right. Risks were meant to be taken. And she wouldn't be leaving her mum alone. Not now.

Her mum would be okay with her leaving with the Doctor again. She was fairly sure about that. Sarah, now... Sarah was a different story. Sarah'd taken very seriously that request she'd made all those years ago, to stop her phoning the Doctor or wishing that she could go back. She thought that staying and getting on with her life was the right decision.

But then her departure from the Doctor's life hadn't been voluntary. And she'd taken a long time to forgive him for that.

Well, she could explain things to Sarah. She'd understand.

Sarah... Oh. Now there was a complication.

"Doctor - what if he's got someone else with him now?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Never known you to be a coward, Rose Tyler."

"I'm not! But I can't... What if he - you - is happy with the way things are?"

His hand on hers tightened again. "This is a future me, true, but I've done this regeneration thing before. Yeah, there might be someone else travellin' with me, but that would never mean I wouldn't want you back. An' you know that. So, what's really worrying you, Rose Tyler?"

"I saw how Sarah-Jane felt, Doctor. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to be jealous and bitter cause I'm not his - your - You know what I mean."

"You told me we travelled with someone else before. An' you weren't jealous or bitter. You like Sarah-Jane too. Told you, I only take the best. So why're you assumin' that if there is someone else it'd have to be a problem?"

She grimaced. " `S not so much that I think I wouldn't like anyone you chose. I'm just afraid I'll get all possessive like I did before an' wreck things."

"That was before. Six years ago. An' anyway, you weren't yourself - you said so yourself. Won't be like that now." A challenging grin, once so familiar to her, appeared on his face. "You up for findin' out, Rose Tyler?"

And she smiled back at him, the way the Doctor, either Doctor, had always made her smile. He'd convinced her. Not that she'd needed much convincing. She wanted this, more than she'd wanted anything ever before. "Yeah."

"Good." He pushed back his chair and stood, throwing a ten-pound note on the table, and held his hand out to her. "Come with me."

Her smile growing wider as happiness flooded her, she stood and placed her hand in his. And, hand in hand, together they walked away, as they'd done so many times before.

***

The TARDIS was in a delivery alley off a side-street. She halted when she saw it, and just stood, gazing at it, as so many memories came flooding back. For more than a year, that blue police-box had been her home. Until she'd walked away from it by her own choice before she was ready.

And now she was coming back. Coming home.

The Doctor unlocked the door and led her inside. "Welcome home, Rose Tyler." Whether unconsciously or not, he echoed her thoughts. "Well, almost. This TARDIS isn't your home - not any more. The future me's is. An' you'll be back there in just a few minutes."

Hard to believe. Well, not hard, exactly - this was the Doctor, and they were in the TARDIS, and over the year or so she'd been with him she'd got used to the impossible becoming the everyday. But she'd been away from him for so long. Being back now... she kept feeling as if she needed to pinch herself.

A thought occurred. "So, how long will it've been for you? The future you?"

He was already tweaking the controls. "How long do you want it to've been? Once I find the future me's biosignature, we can go any time. The same day you left, the day after, a week after, a year... even six years, like it's been for you."

She didn't want it to be immediately after. It might be self-centred, but she wanted him at least to miss her. But not six years. In that time, he'd definitely have found someone to replace her.

"Few months, maybe. No more than a year."

He looked up, caught her eye and grinned. "Your wish is my command."

And that just brought a lump to her throat. One of so many memories she had of him, of this Doctor.

In his TARDIS again, with him. The differences between his and the future him's TARDIS were subtle, mainly the lighting, but they were noticeable.

He was standing there, right there, just where he'd been when he'd doubled over in pain and then burned, right in front of her.

The memory still had the power to bring tears to her eyes. Her Doctor, just gone, and she hadn't a clue what'd been happening.

She swallowed the lump that'd returned to her throat. He was here with her now. And she had a chance to do what circumstances had denied them before.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to join him at the console. "Doctor... you know what hurt the most when you died?"

His smile was fond as he looked at her, his hands still working controls. "What did?"

She knew she looked sad when she said, "I never got a chance to say goodbye."

Deep sympathy was on his face. "I'm sorry. It often happens that way - too quickly for me to explain what's goin' on. Or I might not even be with my companions."

"You were with me," she said quickly. "But I was a bit out of it - I'd just come round. Fainted or something... I dunno. But you were talking some sort o' nonsense, an' the next minute you told me I was fantastic an' you went up in flames right in front of me."

He turned to face her and held out his arms. "I'm sorry it happened like that. Will happen like that. Don't tell me how but... was it for a good reason?"

She pressed against him, wrapping her arms around him in return, under his jacket. "Yeah. It was." She couldn't tell him that it was to save her life, or that there'd been times when she'd thought his life was worth more than hers and he shouldn't have done it. He would think it a good reason. That was enough for now.

"I'm glad." He loosened his embrace and held her so that he could look at her. "Least you get to say goodbye to me this time."

"Yeah." And everything she'd ever felt for him welled up inside her until she could barely speak. And, suddenly, she knew she had to say something. Do something. Or she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

"Doctor?"

"That's me."

"I... If I don't say this, I'll never forgive myself."

A slow smile curved across his mouth. "Say it, then."

She raised a hand to his face. "I love you."

His eyes widened, but then he smiled, a warm, affectionate smile that she remembered so well. "You didn't need to say that. I knew it."

"Yeah, but..." But did he? Did he know what she really meant? She thought not. Earlier, when she'd talked about wanting more than the deeply loving friendship she'd had with him, he'd assumed she only meant the later him. "I mean, I love you. Always loved you, whichever you it was."

And, before he could say another word, she reached up and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment, he was perfectly still, and she thought he was going to push her away. Even if he did, she didn't regret it. In a few minutes' time, he'd be gone once more and she'd never see him again. She'd regret more never having done it.

But then his arms tightened around her and his lips parted over hers.

At first, his kiss was tentative and affectionate. And then, after a few moments, he made an inarticulate sound in his throat and pulled her closer against him. Then he was kissing her as if he'd never stop. Never let her go.

Time blurred. The surroundings faded. There was only the two of them, him holding her, his mouth on hers, their tongues melding and exploring, their hands caressing. Their breath mingling. Their hearts beating together.

And then he broke the kiss and stood, his face so close, his forehead leaning against hers. "Rose." Her name was a sigh on his lips.

He was going to say they shouldn't have done that. But she didn't care. They had. And he couldn't take that from her, even if he was going to wipe his own memory of it.

But he didn't say anything else, and his blue eyes were dark with hazy passion as he gazed at her. And something else, too.

"Doctor," she whispered in return, and pressed her lips to his chin.

And a wide, joyous grin spread over his face. "We never did that before, right?"

She shook her head. Okay, there was that weird dream where she imagined him kissing her, but that was only a dream, right? And she knew that Cassandra-in-her-body had kissed the later him, but that didn't count. "No. Always wanted to, though."

"Me too." And he stole a lightning-fast kiss. "Love you too, by the way," he added.

She tightened her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder. He held her there for a while, but then stirred and cupped her cheek with his hand. His mouth descended, and he claimed her in another deep, soul-stirring kiss that left her breathless and clinging to him.

Then he gave her a questioning look. "How far d'you want this to go?"

Her breath caught. "As far as you're willing to take it, Doctor."

He studied her in silence for a long moment. Then his arms fell away from her and, for a moment, she felt bereft. But then he held out his hand to her. "Come with me," he said again. And he led her out of the console room, along the quiet corridors, and to the room she recognised as his bedroom.

She'd hardly ever been in here during her stay on his TARDIS. The new him had chosen a different bedroom - or his room had moved - and she'd been in that one a few more times, mainly because he'd spent more time there than the first him had and he'd been happy for her to come and find him there if she wanted to talk.

This room, though, was just as she remembered. Quite bare, really; just the requisite large bed - larger now than she remembered? She couldn't be sure - a chair, a dressing-table and a smaller table full of bits of junk. Though, of course, he wouldn't call them junk, and he'd object vehemently to her use of the word. The thought made her smile.

"Somethin' amusin' you, Rose Tyler?"

She shook her head, still smiling. " `M just happy. Happier than I ever imagined I could be again."

"Good." He turned her to face him, lips claiming hers again. And his hands roamed over her body, tugging at the blouse she wore, pulling it out from the waistband of her capri pants. One hand slid up her back, and she shivered a little from the coolness of it. He was touching her, though. The Doctor was touching her bare skin. She moaned against his mouth, raking the fingers of one hand through his short hair.

He broke the kiss, and his grin was wickedly sensual. "You're gonna give me a crick in my neck, Rose Tyler. Why couldn't you be just a few centimetres taller?"

A burst of laughter escaped her and she gave him a cheeky grin, tongue protruding a little from the corner of her mouth. "Wouldn't matter if we were lyin' down."

That wicked grin grew wider. "Excellent idea."

And, so suddenly he took her breath away, he scooped her up and carried her to his bed, dropping her in the centre. Then he came down beside her and continued kissing her as if there'd been no interruption.

Clothes seemed to melt away as hands busied themselves exploring and caressing. His jacket and jumper ended up on the floor. She had no idea where her blouse and trousers went, and cared less. Long fingers traced the edge of her bra, while with his other hand he traced feather-light circles on her inner thighs.

She moaned. Pushing him away and onto his back, she fumbled at the fastening of his jeans. "Oi! Careful with that!" he exclaimed, as the zip caught. He eased her hands away and, with economical movements, stripped himself.

Naked.

Her breath caught. He was even more beautiful than she'd imagined.

But he didn't give her time to think about that. His hands were busy removing the rest of her clothes, and then hands and lips explored, stroked, caressed, kissed until the rest of the world melted away and there was only him and her and everything she felt for him.

His body slid over hers, and she parted for him. And then he held her face between his palms. "You ready for this, Rose Tyler?"

She couldn't take her gaze from his, from those dark-with-passion eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Yes. Yes, please!"

"You better be." And a slow, mischievous grin spread over his face. "Take a deep breath. You'll need it."

She did, and at the same time he splayed the fingers of one hand over her temple. She was more interested in what the rest of him was doing, though.

She felt him on her, over her, all the longing she felt for him, the driving need in her to have him, all of him, to have him inside her.

And she felt something else. Something different. Something not a part of her, and yet it was. In her head, how much he wanted her. Needed her. Loved her. The way her skin felt under his hands, so soft, satiny, warm and pulsing, the taste of her lips against his, warm, cherry lipstick, milky coffee and Rose, and a passion that was burning, burning, demanding fulfilment... now, yes, now...

And then he was there, and she was... Everywhere. He was in her and she was in him, and she could feel him, how she felt to him, how he felt to her. She wanted to ask how, but then there was only sensation and movement and love and him and... oh, so good and sighs and moans and little gasps...

...and everything splintered and shattered around her, and he was coming apart in her arms and in her head, Rose, Rose, Rose, and she was sobbing, "Doctor, oh, Doctor..." and his lips were on hers again and, and...

She blinked, dazed, and saw him lying next to her, propped up on one elbow, smiling down at her. She tried to move, to touch his face, but her hand shook. God, she'd never been that worn out from making love before.

"You all right?" His smile was warm and loving.

She had to smile back. He always had that effect on her, and so much more now. "Oh, yeah. That was... what was that?"

A mock-offended look came over his face. "You have to ask?"

"Something... happened." She frowned, trying to work it out.

And the smile was back. "Tell me what you think happened."

"I could feel..." She concentrated. Not just what she was feeling herself, the sensations his caresses, his body had given to her. But more. "I think I was feeling what you were feeling. Right?"

Oh, that look was so familiar. The way he'd always looked at her, admiring, praising, whenever she got something right. "That's right. You know I'm telepathic," he reminded her. "When I touched you - " His fingertips rested on her temple again. " - it allowed us to experience each other's reactions. Little Time Lord trick. Thought you might like it."

"Oh, yeah." She moved closer to him, the shakiness gone now. And she wanted to feel him against her again. He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her to lie on his chest. The steady double-thump rhythm of his twin hearts beat reassuringly against her. "That was... wow." She reached up to kiss him, then drew back, giving him a questioning look. "Do we have time to do it again?"

He grinned, lust and humour dancing in his eyes. "Time machine, Rose Tyler. Yeah, we've got time."

***

She lay in his arms later as they exchanged lazy kisses and slow caresses. Rose. He'd imagined this would be good, but reality was better, much better, than thought.

He'd never have done this with his Rose, younger Rose. She was too young, too unsure of what she really wanted out of life. Too attached still to Mickey, even if she didn't think she was.

But this Rose wasn't just older in years. What she'd been through had given her a confidence and self-knowledge her younger self only thought she had. Even if she'd faltered a little, earlier, when he'd offered to bring her back to her later self, he'd seen it in her eyes. She wanted it, but this time was considering consequences that the younger Rose had blithely ignored.

She'd grown up. Become everything he'd hoped for her.

She smiled at him. "You look like a bloke with a lot on `is mind, Doctor."

As always, he smiled in return. "Not much."

"Nah, I can imagine. Just a few thousand equations or physics formulae and the fate of a hundred planets no-one's ever heard of."

He grinned. "See you got to know me even better."

That got him a laugh. "Never as well `s I do now!"

"True." He stroked the palm of one hand over her body, from breast to stomach to hip to thigh. "Want to know me better still?"

She frowned. "What d'you mean?"

His hand stilled where it rested on her upper thigh. "Stay. Here, with me. We don't have to take you back to the future me. It can be like it was before, just you and me. What d'you say?"

***

Chapter 7: A Decision

Stay with him? With this Doctor?

"But we can't." Immediately, though her heart sank as she said it, she knew it was impossible. "You've got to go back for the younger me. An' I know too much `bout your future. I'll never be able to stop myself tellin' you things you shouldn't know."

But he just grinned again. "Do I have to keep reminding you? Time machine. I can go back for the younger you any time. As for what you know about me... Told you once, time's changin' all the time. Who knows what'll happen in my future? You know one version of it. Maybe it'll still happen that way when I do go back for the younger you, an' maybe it won't. An' I can still wipe my memory anyway. Thing is, we can have as long as we want together until then. Travellin'. Explorin'. Gettin' into trouble. Runnin' for our lives. An' being together." A gesture with his hand told her he meant like this. In bed. Loving each other.

God, it was tempting. So tempting. She loved him, this him, so much.

But she loved the other him too. Yet couldn't she just go back to him afterwards?

Though how old would she be by then? How long would she stay with this Doctor?

And what about the younger her? She'd really never know that this had happened?

Had it happened? It could have, couldn't it? If the Doctor'd done what he said he would and wiped his own memory, then she could've spent five years, ten years, even more with him and he wouldn't remember it. She - the younger her - would never know that he'd been gone for so long. He wouldn't know himself.

Could it possibly be right for her to do something like that - effectively stealing years of his life that he'd never remember? What if important things happened in that time, things he needed to remember?

Because it wasn't just about them, the two of them. He mattered to the universe. He was the Doctor, and that was what he did. She couldn't ever put him in a position where he'd have to choose between doing what was right for her, or even for himself, and what was right for the universe.

But, if she stayed with him, that was what she could end up doing. Because, among other things, he'd end up knowing more than he should about the Daleks. About Satellite Five. And that could be disastrous if, somehow, the end result was different. If the Daleks won.

Slowly, regret flooding her, she shook her head. However hard it was, it was the right decision.

"No, Doctor. I can't. It wouldn't be right - for you or for me." Because she'd left this Doctor behind, too. Had come to love the next him just as much. And she missed him every bit as much, too.

He caught her hand and held it, tightly. And then, instead of the hurt she'd expected to see on his face - because he could assume she was choosing the next him over this him - he smiled, a lightning-fast beam of a smile. "Good answer, Rose Tyler."

"Wh-what?"

"You're right. We can't do it. `S not right. But I wanted to know if you could work that out on your own."

She stared at him. Glared at him. "You mean you were testing me?"

"Yeah, you could call it that."

She slapped him. Hard. On his upper arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"You bloody know what for!"

"C'mere." He pulled her back into his arms. "I had to ask, Rose. I'd still've told you why we can't, but I had to find out how much you want to go back to the future me."

"I do." She met his gaze. "I do. `S just... I love you, too."

"I know." He kissed her gently. "But `s still me. You know that."

She nodded. "I do."

"Okay." Again, he kissed her, this time deeply, intensely. And then, in one fluid movement, he rolled off the bed and stood up. "Time we got you back where you belong."

***

The power cell fizzed, sparked and then went out. Correction; not went out, precisely; more went all explodey, with electrical impulses flying everywhere, one or two burning his hand, and then went stubbornly dead.

Well, shit. He reached inside the panel for it, then winced as the heat seared his fingers. Might've been better to wait until it'd cooled down a bit.

And he didn't even have a spare. Which was weird. He knew there'd been one in the storage area a year or so ago, but when he'd looked earlier it'd been gone. It wasn't as if he could exactly replace those any more.

Oh, well. That'd be another ten years of his life, then, wouldn't it, to recharge it? Still, it wasn't as if he couldn't afford it. Probably still had several hundred years of living to do, provided he didn't go through his final four lives the way he had his ninth.

Though no regrets there. Ever. Even if she had left him.

It was a year ago now. And he still wondered how she was, whether she was all right, what she was doing. And if she needed him.

Silly, though, that. If she needed him, she'd call. She had her phone, with his number safely stored in it. That was the second thing he'd done, right after he'd supercharged it for her. Add pan-universal battery and SIM card, store TARDIS number in its databanks. Easy.

God, he'd missed her. It had been damn lonely those first couple of months. So many times, he'd looked around for her, forgetting that she wasn't there any more. He'd begun to speak, wanting to share some moment of inspiration with her, and she wasn't there. He'd begun to explain a brilliant idea to her, but she wasn't there. He'd started to talk about something that puzzled him, that he couldn't quite work out, but she wasn't there.

He'd pulled his coat on and wondered why he was struggling to get his arm into the second sleeve, and realised that she wasn't there to hold it for him. He'd held his hand out, waggled his fingers in invitation, but there was nobody there to hold it. He'd turned to smile, to grin, at her, and remembered that she wasn't there to smile back at him. He'd opened his arms to hug her, but she wasn't there any more.

He never went back. Never. Once they'd left him, or he left them, that was it.

Not that he was alone now, though. After those first couple of months, he hadn't been able to take the hollow emptiness of the TARDIS any more. And so he'd done something about it. No regrets there. It was working out pretty well; actually, better than he'd expected. But, still... Still, there was an empty space in his life that he hadn't yet been able to fill. Or ignore.

Power cell. He'd done enough brooding about the past. He reached in, finding that it was now cool enough to touch, and removed it. He was just about to start the recharge process when he halted, frowning, as something tickled at the edge of his awareness.

A sound. A presence. Something he shouldn't be hearing, sensing right now. Not here. That was imposs...

...No. Possible. Very possible. Because a TARDIS, his TARDIS, was materialising right inside his console room.

Never a good idea, really, one TARDIS inside another. Even if it was his own. Tended to lead to problems. That time he'd materialised around the Master's TARDIS, for example - it'd taken him ages to get the interior dimensions back to their proper arrangement. Not that it was impossible - after all, he was a genius - but still a bit of a stupid thing to do.

Though, presumably, he was the one who was doing it. But which him? That was the question. Not a past him, because he'd remember it. A future him? This him, or a future regeneration?

He jumped to his feet and ran down from the platform.

His TARDIS, all right. The groaning ceased as he came to a halt in front of the door and waited. Which him was this?

And then the door opened. And he felt his jaw go slack.

Rose.

Not the Rose who'd left him. She was older - five, six years older, maybe? Still unmistakeably Rose.

Questions were flying in his mind, but they didn't matter. Not now. He opened his arms, and she walked into them. Walked home.

***

He hadn't changed a bit. Not one bit. Even his hair still flopped over his forehead in exactly the same way.

The Doctor'd - the earlier Doctor - told her that he was taking her to a year to the day, in his timeline, after she'd left the TARDIS. Ironic, that, given it was the day she'd been at her lowest.

Waiting for the door to open, she'd been more nervous than she'd ever been in her life before. What if he didn't want her back? What if he was angry that she'd just turned up without calling first? What if...

But the Doctor had taken her hand. Held it firmly, reassuringly, while he told her that everything would be fine. And that if it wasn't, if she didn't want to stay or for some reason his future self didn't want her to stay, he'd take her home again. Or they'd talk about what she would do next. He wasn't leaving her yet, he promised her.

But, as soon as the door had swung open and she'd seen him - the later him - she'd known. The shock on his face had been replaced by sheer joy and elation.

He was pleased to see her. He wanted her back.

And she was in his arms again, being swung around, held tight, her head pressed into his shoulder.

His embrace loosened and he looked down at her, his face so close. "Rose... this is brilliant! But - how?" His gaze flickered past her and to the TARDIS. "Which me brought you here?"

"That would be me." She heard the younger Doctor's voice from very close behind her, and realised that he'd come out of the TARDIS.

She was released, and she turned to watch the two Doctors - the same man; that was just so weird - face each other. Her first Doctor was leaning against the door-jamb, arms folded, one foot resting against the frame, watching the two of them. Her second Doctor stood beside her, looking apparently relaxed, though she knew he was anything but.

"Yet I don't remember this." That was the older Doctor; god, she had to find a better way of distinguishing them in her head. "You wiped your memory, I suppose?"

"Going to, yep." Her first Doctor nodded, arms folded across his chest. "Never good to know too much about my future. Including what I'm gonna look like next - fairly soon, too, if my guess is right."

She hadn't told him, but it wouldn't have been that hard for him to put it together. Yet more things he shouldn't know about.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." She felt a hand taking hers. The Doctor - her second Doctor. And he smiled down at her. "You have come back, haven't you? This isn't just a quick visit to say hi? Quick cuppa, chat to catch up, then Sorry, must dash and disappear off back to the Powell Estates? Hmm?"

She grinned up at him. "I don't live in the Powell Estates any more. Neither does my mum, actually."

"Oh. Well, anyway, I was speaking figuratively. You know. Not literally back to the Powell Estates, necessarily. So... are you?"

"If you'll have me back." She held her breath.

His smile grew wider. And it took her breath away. "Oh, yeah. Of course. Told you!" he added. "Don't you remember? When you left. I said all you had to do was call. Your phone, remember? Supermobile? And I'd come and get you. Anywhere. Any time."

Although he was smiling, there was something in his expression that was just a little hurt. It wasn't difficult to understand why. She hadn't called him. Instead, she'd ended up relying on another him to come back.

"I know." She squeezed his hand. "Wasn't that I didn't want to. It was... complicated. I had some issues to sort out, an' by the time I did I wasn't sure whether comin' back was a good idea or not. He - you - " She shook her head. "How'm I s'posed to do this? You're both the Doctor!"

"I'm Ten, he's Nine." The Doctor holding her hand grinned. "Gets complicated, all right, when we meet ourselves."

"Good thing it doesn't happen much." That was Nine. The Doctor who was her lover.

"Surprised it doesn't cause a paradox when you do." And she really did wonder that. But then, it wasn't as if they were touching or anything. Probably being very careful not to.

But Ten shook his head. "Doesn't happen that way for us. Time Lords."

Right. Another mysterious property of his - their - role.

"Anyway," he continued. "You were saying? Something about me - that me - " He nodded in Nine's direction. "doing something?"

"We met. Accidentally. I was checking to make sure there were no little after-effects of Adam Mitchell's stupidity, and suddenly there she was."

"I remember doing that." The Doctor holding her hand frowned. "I don't remember seeing Rose, though."

"Do you remember being in 2013?"

He thought for a moment. "No. And that's weird. I remember deciding to go there for one last check before going back to 2006 to collect Rose. Don't remember actually going there. But that makes sense. I wiped my memory." He turned back to her. "So. You met me."

"Yeah, an'... well, anyway, he - " She nodded with her chin towards Nine. "He helped me get a lot of stuff straight in my head. An' here I am."

"What sort of stuff?" He was frowning at her now. "Things you couldn't talk to me about?"

"Deal with the domestics later," Nine cut in before she could answer. "I'm off, unless there's anything else either of you need me for."

He was leaving... She'd known he would, that this would be another goodbye, but... After everything they'd been to each other in the last couple of hours, it was hard to let him go.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Ten was rumpling his hair with his free hand. "Thanks. I appreciate what you did. Well - " And he grinned again. "Strictly speaking, what I did. Even if I don't remember it."

"What're you doin' with that power cell?"

She glanced at Ten's free hand to see what the Ninth Doctor was talking about. He held something that looked like a dull, black crystal. Actually, she recognised it. She'd seen one of them before.

"It's dead." He shook his head. "Just sort of fizzed and then went dead. I was just about to recharge it when you two made your dramatic entrance."

"Recharge it?" The other Doctor frowned. "You used the spare?"

"Actually, I don't know." The Tenth Doctor was looking puzzled. "It's not there, and I don't remember using it."

"Ah." And the Ninth Doctor's face broke into a broad grin. "Then I think I know where it went. You'd best come inside."

***

He followed his younger self into the other TARDIS. Yes, this made perfect sense. The spare cell wasn't where it should be because he had used it - he'd given it to himself. Right here, right now.

"Thanks. I appreciate this," he said as his previous self handed over the power cell. "And for bringing Rose back. I appreciate that even more."

After closing the storage cabinet, his younger self straightened and met his gaze. "You need to ask her about six years ago. Think she needs to tell you. Course, she already has but you don't remember."

"No, I don't. Always wondered, though. I mean, it came right out of the blue. And she didn't really say why." He frowned, remembering. "We were so happy. At least, I thought we were. And she just wouldn't talk about it."

"She had her reasons." Abrupt as ever, the previous him. "She'll tell you now."

Well, he'd make sure of it. Not something he usually did, of course, persuading people to talk to him if they didn't want to. Well, unless they had information he needed in order to save the universe. Or to save someone he cared about. Then, no power on earth would stop him making them talk.

"Good." He nodded at his previous self again. "Sounds like I should be glad you stumbled on her today. Or I did. Though hard to think of it as something I did when I don't remember it."

The younger him rolled his eyes. "You do like jabberin' on, don't you?"

He had to laugh at that. "Don't forget, I'm you. This'll be you in a while."

"I can't wait." He didn't need the second eye-roll to interpret his previous self's words.

"Anyway," he said, briskly now, "thanks for the power-cell. I'd better let you get back to whatever it was you were doing - wait, going back to 2006 for Rose, isn't it?" And he could get back out into his own TARDIS and to his Rose. Older Rose, but still his Rose. Rose, who'd come back to him.

"In a minute. Just want to ask you something." His previous self held his gaze. "I won't remember the answer. That's not important. I only want to know now. Do you love her?"

"What? If I say no, you'll take her away again?" He had to smile at the preposterous nature of the idea. But his ninth self didn't return the smile. Well, wasn't that just great.

"Do you?" he countered, but didn't wait for an answer. "I know - I remember - how I felt about her by now. Now for you, I mean. She already mattered to me far more than anyone should have. And I did my best to hide it. As you're still trying to hide it." His gaze was steady, challenging. "Multiply that feeling. By an order of magnitude."

"Losing her made that much difference?"

"Losing her. And also everything that hasn't happened to you yet. You'll find out, one of these days, just what you're willing to do for each other. That'll make the difference."

"Yet you just let her walk away?" His younger self sounded incredulous.

"What could I do?" He gave a helpless shrug. "She asked to be taken home. Couldn't keep her prisoner on the TARDIS, now, could I? We've never done that and I wasn't going to start with Rose."

"Could've tried to find out what was really goin' on." He was beginning to sense a little anger from his previous regeneration.

"Not if she didn't want to tell me. Her business. Her choice. I had no choice but to respect that." And he wasn't going to listen to any more of this. He headed towards the door, and his own TARDIS. Hand on the door, he glanced back as his previous self spoke again.

"When she does tell you, then ask yourself whether you should've pushed her for a reason."

He just nodded. Easy for his ninth self to be clever in hindsight. He wasn't the one who'd had to deal with the situation. "You are coming to say goodbye?"

His ninth self nodded. "Promised her I would this time." And the two of them re-emerged into the other console room.

Rose was waiting, trailing her fingers along the console rail as they came out. And that beautiful smile he remembered so well spread across her face.

"I'm off now, Rose." His younger self crossed the room to stand in front of her.

And he saw sadness replace the smile. "Yeah. I figured." She reached for his hands. " `M gonna miss you, Doctor. And, yeah, I know you're still here." She looked beyond his previous self and met his own gaze. "Still, though."

"I know." The younger him's voice dropped to a low tone. "So glad I met you today, Rose."

"Me too."

"You're still fantastic." He could hear the smile in his previous self's voice. "Always were, always will be."

And then they were hugging. He smiled. He'd always loved hugging Rose, in both bodies. His other self swung her around - something he hadn't really tended to do until after his regeneration - and he met his own gaze over her shoulder.

And then the younger him bent his head and kissed Rose. Passionately. He felt his jaw drop.

***

He was leaving. Her Doctor - her lover.

Of course, he had to go. She knew that. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she focused on smiling up at him with all the love she felt for him. "Bye, Doctor."

"Not goodbye, Rose." He shook his head faintly. "You'll still be with me." He was right, of course. The later him. His voice dropped to a low murmur. "An' I still love you. You'll see."

She nodded. And his arms fell from around her. This was it. He was leaving.

She caught at his hand, curling her fingers around his briefly. And then, as he walked back to his TARDIS, she went to join him - the later him. The Tenth Doctor, who took her hand as she came to stand beside him.

Her first Doctor glanced back as he pushed his TARDIS door open. "Said he had to be a pretty boy, didn't I?" And he grinned at her before letting the door shut behind him.

The two of them - she and the Doctor - stood together in silence as the TARDIS faded away. And then they were alone.

And he reached for her, pulling her into his arms again. "Welcome home, Rose."

She settled against him, wrapping her arms around him in return. Even after more than six years, he felt so familiar to her.

"How long's it been for you?" He pulled back a little to look at her. "It looks like about five years?"

"Little over six."

"One year for me. To the day, actually." He was still smiling, but she could see remembered sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah. He - you - said that's what he was aiming for."

"I'm glad you didn't want to make it six years for me, too."

"Nah." She chewed her lip a little. "Was afraid you might've forgotten me."

His hold on her tightened. "Never. And you should know that. Did I forget Sarah-Jane?"

No, he hadn't, but... "You never mentioned her," she reminded him.

"Yeah, and I told you why not. That doesn't mean I didn't miss her. Or other people I've cared about. Including you." He released her and stepped back. One thing hadn't changed; he was still uncomfortable talking about feelings.

Okay, so she could change the subject. There was something she needed to know, anyway. So far, she hadn't seen any evidence of a new companion, but that meant nothing. "This last year - you haven't been alone all that time. Have you?" She just hoped that her nervousness about his answer didn't show.

He was turning away from her. "I should put this power cell back." And he ran up to the console. "For a while, yes. Got someone else travelling with me now."

She wouldn't be jealous. He'd told her; if he had someone else, it'd be someone worth having. Worth knowing. "Oh? Someone nice?"

He glanced at her, and a faint smile flickered across his face. "I think you'll think so. Anyway, you can decide for yourself in a bit."

"Not around, then?" She glanced around the console room, though it was obviously empty.

"Nah. Went out to get some supplies. Should be back in a couple of hours."

She followed him as far as the rail and leaned against it, watching him. He looked across at her again from his crouched position. "You'll have to tell me what you've been doing for the past six years. And why you left me."

Yes, she'd have to tell him that. Or at least some of it. His past self had made her understand that.

"But first..." He'd jumped to his feet and was making his way back towards her. Shaking his finger at her in what she knew was a mock lecturing mode, he said, "Rose Tyler, you just snogged me!"

***

Chapter 8: Getting To Know You - Again

She blushed prettily, but then grinned, her tongue resting over her teeth in a way he remembered so well. "Actually, Doctor, I think you'll find it was you kissing me. Not that I was objecting."

"I could see that." She hadn't been. Enthusiastic participation was what he'd seen.

He didn't do that kind of thing. Well, not often. And rarely with companions. Rose... he'd put Rose out of bounds long ago. She was too young. He was too damaged. And there was his don't get too involved rule, related to something he'd once told Rose, what he'd called the curse of the Time Lords.

Yet his previous self had just ignored all that. And, if his guess was right - judging by the kiss itself and by Rose's lack of surprise - it wasn't their first kiss.

Maybe... had he done it because he knew he wouldn't remember it?

But that didn't fit. Because Rose would remember it. And, besides, he'd done it right in front of his future self. He could easily have taken her into his TARDIS for a bit of privacy. But he hadn't. He knew himself well enough to understand why. That'd been a message.

His eyes wide, he asked her, "What else did you get up to with me?"

And her grin spread. "You really don't remember any of it?"

He shook his head. "No. I'd've had to wipe my memory after meeting you like that. Can't know too much about my own future. Not the kissing you part; that wouldn't really be a problem. But anything else, like when I was going to die..." He raised an eyebrow. "It's too dangerous to know about that."

She nodded. "Yeah, makes sense. An' you explained all that to me."

"So...?" He gave her his best interrogative stare.

But she just grinned again. "That's for me to know, Doctor."

And him not to find out? Not a chance. "Oh, there's so much I want to know, Rose. So very much. Including why you left me. But that can wait. There's something much more important at the moment."

He advanced closer to her, watching her closely. She wanted this, too. She always had, before, and he'd always known it. It might have been different now - but, no, still the same.

"What's that?"

"This." He took the one step he needed to bring himself closer to her, took her face between his palms and lowered his lips to hers.

***

He kissed differently now. Intense right from the start. Taking her breath away with his very first approach.

His lips parted over hers. His tongue invaded. Her legs went wobbly and she had to cling to him for support. And still he kissed her. Until, finally, he pulled back as they both gasped for breath. And then he kissed her again.

She ended up pressed against the edge of the raised platform, the Doctor's body against hers, so close she could feel every muscle through the barrier of their clothing. The unwelcome barrier of their clothing. Her hands were in his hair. His hands were on every part of her he could reach. And still he kissed her.

Finally, breathing heavily, he broke away. When she'd recovered enough of her senses to look at him properly, she saw her own dazed passion reflected in his eyes. And something more. Something like... triumph.

"As good as before?" he asked, his tone light, almost teasing.

Before? Oh. He meant the previous him. "Not sure I should kiss an' tell."

"Hey, it was me then, too!" he protested. "Not my fault if I had to wipe my memory because you were a little minx and told me too much."

She relented. "Definitely as good."

"Better?" Now she could see what it was. He was so competitive, this Doctor. Had to be the best at everything. Hated being beaten. She couldn't help wondering how he'd have coped with Jack, who had been the Doctor's equal at least in some aspects of science and time-travel.

She wasn't going to compare her two Doctors. She loved them both. "Different."

He looked disappointed. "Aww. Come on. You can tell me? Please?"

She grinned. "Nah."

His eyes widened. "I think you need some more convincing, Rose Tyler. You obviously don't have enough empirical evidence yet to enable you to make a full comparison of the basic compatibility of Gallifreyan and human sensory receptors and any subtle differences of hormonal stimulation between this me and the last me." And he kissed her again.

Some time later, with him leaning against the edge of the platform and her leaning against him, she said, "Thought you didn't do that? I mean, all that stuff about bein' alone an' everything?"

"Oh, that's all still true." He nodded, mouth turned down at the corners. "But I realised something over this past year."

"What's that?" Her fingers traced his jaw.

"I wouldn't have missed you any more if we had been lovers."

She actually felt her heart skip a beat. Looking up at him, she saw the intent in his gaze. He was completely serious. "Me too."

Lovers. He'd thought about it, then. But of course he had. The other him had - he'd told her that. He'd said that he'd imagined it often, but resolved never to do anything about it.

She grinned then, remembering what had happened earlier. "That what we are now, then, Doctor? Lovers?"

They were, of course. Except that he didn't remember it.

His eyes widened. "Rose Tyler, are you propositioning me?" But the effect of his apparent shock was ruined by the grin that began to spread across his face.

"You said it first." She reached up to kiss him again.

"But you're not denying it, I notice," he said as soon as his lips were free.

"Doesn't seem to me like you're objecting too much." In fact, pressed against him as she was, she could detect signs of definite interest. And then she giggled. "Or is that the Oncoming Storm?"

"Rose Tyler, I should put you over my knee and spank you!" But the effect of his threat was lost in helpless laughter.

"Ooh, kinky, Doctor!"

His arms tightened around her again. "I haven't seen you for a year, Rose. It hardly seems the most... appropriate thing to drag you off to my bed the moment you come back."

"Been over six years for me," she reminded him. "That's the longest I've waited for a bloke in my life."

"Ah." A slow smile spread over his face. "Then it wouldn't be polite of me to keep you waiting any longer, would it?"

She grinned. "How long did you say your new companion would be gone?"

***

There were times when he really didn't mind admitting that he'd got things wrong. Take right now.

For a year, both as his previous self and as himself, he'd resisted Rose. He'd been attracted to her right from the start, and as he'd come to like and then love her as well the attraction had only grown stronger. But she was a companion, she was far too young for him and he was far too damaged for her. Not to mention he was tired of losing people he loved. So it was better, safer to keep her at a distance. No matter how good sex with Rose would be, it couldn't possibly be good enough to make the ultimate pain of losing her worthwhile.

Wrong.

He'd just had a year without her and, as he'd told her, he couldn't imagine missing her more. Now, he'd just made love to her - and none of his feverish dreams had even come close.

Naked, she stretched, cat-like, in his arms and grinned up at him. "Nice."

"Nice?" he objected. "Nice? Is that all you can say?"

She just laughed, which made him laugh in return. And made him want her again.

Their first time together. First times could be so awkward, but not with them. Somehow, he'd seemed to know what she liked, what made her whimper and how to bring her to the edge of frustration and hold her there before tipping her over completely. And she seemed to know how to do the same to him.

First time... but was it? She hadn't answered him earlier. Had she made love with him? The last him?

He was inclined to think they had. If they'd progressed to kissing - and kissing the way he'd kissed her earlier before leaving - and his previous self knew that this was all he'd have of Rose - then he'd have wanted more.

So, strictly speaking - if he was right - this wasn't their first time. Even if he couldn't remember it.

He ran a finger along the bridge of her nose. "So, am I different?"

"What?" She gave him a questioning look. "Different how?"

"In bed. From the ninth me."

"Oh, you're not starting that again, Doctor!" She shook her head, giving him a mock-impatient look. "I love you. Both yous. There's no difference, to me. That what you're worried about? Cause there isn't. All right?"

Love...

They hadn't said it yet, either of them. Though it'd never needed to be said between them. Or, at least, so he'd thought. Maybe, though, it had needed to be said. Maybe that was what she'd needed to hear a year before - six years ago, from her perspective.

"And I love you." He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. "It's all right. I stopped thinking you preferred the old me a long time ago. I was just wondering, that's all. I mean, I know how I'm different now, but it's interesting to get another perspective."

"You're just... different, that's all. I loved being with you earlier. I love being with you now."

"You're very diplomatic." He grinned at her.

" `S true, though." It was her turn to kiss him. Her breasts brushed against his chest as she came closer to him in doing so. And he couldn't resist touching, which distracted both of them for a while.

She was straddling his hips in a way guaranteed to drive him to insanity when she said, "There was one thing you did earlier that was very different, though."

"Oh?" He gripped her hips, pulling her closer to where he wanted her.

"Yeah. You touched me - here - " She laid two fingers against his temple. "An' I could feel everything you felt."

"Ah." He'd done that, had he? That was one hell of an intense experience. But she'd obviously been able to handle it... "That sounds like a challenge, Rose Tyler."

"It does?" She looked and sounded innocent. Far too innocent to be believable.

He bucked his hips and flipped her over. Coming down on top of her, he leaned up on his elbows and laid two fingers against her right temple. And then his lips covered hers, kissing her deeply.

The first thing he sensed was a powerful wave of emotion. Love. For him - both of him. And mingled with that was desire, fierce and passionate. She wanted him, just as much as he wanted her.

Well, he could give her that. When he was ready.

Trailing open-mouthed kisses along the line of her jaw and down her throat, he let the fingers of his free hand glide up the inside of her thigh, and then between her legs. All around, circling her, but never touching where she burned to be touched...

...and her frustration, impatience, longing was screaming inside his head. Aloud, she whimpered, and her body thrashed and jerked, but he had to grin at the names she was calling him in her mind.

Bastard... oh, please... just

touch me!

Impatient little human, aren't you?

She grabbed his hand, trying to drag his fingers where she wanted them. But he closed his fingers around hers and moved her hand out of his way. Oh, when it came to patience Time Lords could run rings around humans any day. And he was enjoying this.

Her whimpers mingled in his mind with her silent cries and moans. And then he moved his fingers that final centimetre, stroking and circling where she wanted him. And she cried out.

But even that wasn't enough. For her, or for him.

You want me, Rose? Then have me.

One sure, swift movement and he was inside her again. And she was inside him, too; her thoughts, her reactions in his head, competing with his own, wave after wave of sensation and emotion coursing through him until he couldn't tell which were his and which were hers. Only that it was good. Better than good.

It was fantastic.

***

"What time `s it?"

How long had it been since they'd run down the TARDIS corridors to his bedroom? He'd said his new companion would be coming back in a couple of hours.

The new companion. A third person in the TARDIS. Someone she didn't even know, but who knew the Doctor. Had been travelling with him for the best part of a year.

Male or female? On the Doctor's past record, most likely female. And most likely young and attractive.

Were they...?

No. He'd made it very clear by implication, before she'd left him, that that was a step he didn't take with people who travelled with him. He'd said it again earlier. He'd implied that she, now, was an exception. He'd told her how much he'd missed her. He wouldn't have spent the last few months shagging a new companion.

And she wouldn't even ask him. Because he deserved her trust. Trust she'd failed to give him a few times in the past, when she'd got all stupidly possessive just because he was friendly to another woman. Or when she'd found out that he'd had companions before her - companions he'd cared about as much as he did her.

Still. Three of them in the TARDIS. One a completely unknown quantity - and who would be coming back to find a stranger on board, to be told that stranger was staying. Pushing aside her own resentment at knowing she wouldn't have the Doctor to herself, she tried to put herself in the other person's place.

How would she feel to come back to that situation? How would she herself had felt if she'd come back one day to find a complete stranger on the TARDIS? To be told that stranger was an old and very close friend of the Doctor's and was going to be travelling with them? To realise very quickly that the stranger and the Doctor were lovers?

She'd have hated it. She'd have felt like a third wheel. She'd have felt pushed aside, unwanted, rejected. If this woman was like just about anyone else the Doctor became close to, she was probably halfway in love with him already. It wasn't going to be easy for her.

Okay. So she was going to do everything she could to reassure this new companion that she wasn't trying to push her out. That she wanted to be friends. That she would respect her relationship with the Doctor. There'd be no jealousy or pettiness; not from her side, anyway. She'd be as nice as she could to his new friend. Because she would be a friend of his - that was the way he worked. He wouldn't have anyone travelling with him whom he couldn't come to regard as a friend. Well, there was Adam, but he didn't count, considering the reason he'd been there in the first place and how quickly he'd left.

The Doctor's hand sliding down her side and coming to rest on her thigh recalled her to her surroundings. "Probably time we got dressed, much as I hate to admit it."

"Right." She began to slide off the bed, though at first his grip on her tightened. Then he grinned and let her go.

She was pulling on her clothes when he said, "I still want to know why you left me. And... you are back to stay. Aren't you?"

She'd already told him that. "Said I was, didn't I? For as long as you'll have me."

His voice was very soft when he said, "Don't you remember? I once told you you could spend the rest of your life with me."

That made her turn abruptly back to him. His expression was sober and very, very sincere. "But you don't want that," she pointed out. "Cause I'll get old and wither an' die..."

"And I'll be alone again. Yes." He reached out and laid his palm against her face. "But that'll happen whenever you leave me, whether it's to go back to your life on Earth or whether you die. It won't hurt any less either way. So..." He shrugged. "It's your choice, Rose."

What was she supposed to say to that? She had no idea. And, anyway, she wasn't sure that she could form a single word at the moment. There was yet another lump in her throat.

Of course, the chances of her actually spending the rest of her life with him were slim to none. At some point, she would leave, or they'd have to agree to part. That was something she was completely realistic about. Still, the fact that he'd made the offer left her speechless.

Finally, she managed to say, "You were right earlier, Doctor."

"About what?"

"You said welcome home. This is home. Cause you're here."

He didn't say a word. He just smiled, that joyful, ecstatic smile she remembered from him, had seen in her dreams so many times over the past six years. The smile he'd often given her if they were seeing each other after being apart for a while.

She reached across the bed and took his hand in hers. His fingers closed around hers. "Yeah, `m staying," she told him again. She'd already made that decision a few hours earlier, though he didn't know that. Everything that had happened since had only reinforced it.

But decisions had consequences, something she understood better now than she had when she was nineteen. And this time she wasn't going to run away from those.

"Good," he said, smiling at her.

"But I want to do it properly this time."

"What d'you mean?"

"I was nineteen when I first came with you, Doctor. You asked, I said yes - an' I just left, didn't I? Never thought `bout where we'd go or how long for or anything. An' look what happened!"

"Twelve months instead of twelve hours, and your mum thinking you were dead." He nodded soberly, which looked odd with his hair sticking out at crazy angles. She itched to run her fingers through it, to tidy it - and then rumple it again. "That won't happen again, Rose. I'll take you back to visit as often as you want."

"I know. That's not it." She released his hand and finished dressing. The last thing she wanted was his new companion to find them like this, or to see them emerging from his bedroom. "I have a life now that I didn't have before, Doctor. A job. A flat. Friends. I'm giving it all up an' I don't regret that one bit. But I want to do it properly. That means handing in my notice at work. Moving out of the flat. Sayin' goodbye to friends. That means I need a couple of weeks back in London first." She frowned. "That all right? You don't mind comin' back for me?"

He was nodding before she'd even finished speaking. "Forget coming back for you. You've got to clear out your flat and stuff like that. Don't tell me there's nothing a clever alien life-form like me can help with back in London?" He grinned at her. "You know, I always wondered what you'd end up doing. This job - what is it?"

It hadn't occurred to her until he asked. But she was so glad to be able to tell him things this way around. To get to explain what she'd done with her life, her successes, before she had to tell him about her failures.

She found her wallet and pulled out a business card, passing it to him. He took it and groped for his jacket, which was lying discarded on the floor, for his glasses. "Rose Tyler, researcher, Sunday Times." And he looked across at her, smile wide. "That's brilliant! Fantastic! D'you like it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. `S interesting. Though even before I met you today I was starting to think about whether it's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. It's... sort of ordinary. I mean, it's not like alien planets an' adventure an' getting into danger, y'know?"

"Or running for our lives." He grinned, and tucked the card into his shirt pocket before continuing dressing himself. Then he frowned slightly. "Sunday Times? Isn't that where Sarah-Jane works?" He sounded intrigued.

"Yeah. She got me to apply. Actually - " She hesitated, wondering how he'd feel about this. Especially given he'd offered to stay in London with her while she wound up her life there. "She's one of the friends I want to say goodbye to."

That obviously surprised him, but not in a bad way. "You and Sarah? That's brilliant!"

"Yeah. She's a really great person, Doctor. I can see why you love her too." He just nodded, not denying it in the least.

And, as he came to join her, hand extended, and they walked together back to the console room, she told him everything. How she'd been grieving for Mickey, for her dad, for Jack and even for him without even realising it. The depression. The long, slow climb out of it. Gradually pulling her life back together. Making something of it.

Getting over him... or trying to.

The hard decision over the years not to call him. The temptation to go to Manchester when she knew he'd be there. Putting away her super-phone so she couldn't have the temptation any more.

And then her shock at seeing him - the other him - earlier today. And explaining everything to him.

He listened in silence, but his expression spoke volumes. Sadness for her. Guilt - as ever; that hadn't changed with his new body. Blaming himself for what had happened even though it wasn't his fault. Regret. And sympathy.

When she finally stopped talking, he took her by the shoulders and gazed intently at her. "I'm sorry. I should never have let this happen."

"Wasn't your fault." She shook her head at him.

But he shook his head in return, denying her statement. "I should've seen it. I was there! I saw how much Mickey leaving upset you. I knew how you felt about seeing Pete in the parallel world. Just because over the years I've taught myself to internalise all this stuff doesn't mean I should assume you can, too. And as for Jack, I should have explained long ag - "

He broke off abruptly. There was a faint scraping sound, and she recognised it. Someone was opening the TARDIS door from the outside.

His new companion - whoever she was - had returned.

***

Chapter 9: Reintegration

She put a few feet of distance between herself and the Doctor. After all, the first time she'd seen Sarah-Jane the older woman had been holding the Doctor's hand. Her resentment and jealousy had begun right there, with that single gesture.

Yes, she and the Doctor were lovers. But the poor woman about to come through that door was going to have enough surprises as it was without having her nose rubbed in that one immediately.

The door opened. And the first thing she noticed about the figure that emerged was that it was male. Very definitely male; tall and muscular, dark-haired, a few years older than the Doctor's apparent age.

And very familiar.

"Jack!" She ran blindly, arms outstretched, towards him.

He dropped whatever he was holding; it fell to the ground with a clatter, but he didn't appear to notice any more than she did. His arms were extended towards her, and he caught her in them, swinging her around before capturing her tightly against his broad chest.

"Rose!" His face was so close, the blue eyes she remembered so well staring into hers. "But how - oh, hell, that's not important."

And suddenly he was kissing her, his lips warm on hers, the kiss affectionate and not exactly chaste. But it was Jack, and only to be expected. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He was alive. He was here. She'd thought she'd never see him again.

And then, as he released her, she stifled a giggle at the thought that, ignoring the fact that the two Doctors were the same man, in the past few hours she'd kissed three men from her past.

"Doctor." Jack was looking over her shoulder, beyond her, to where the Doctor was strolling down from the console platform, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, she saw as she looked over. "Thought you told me Rose was gone? That we wouldn't be seeing her again?"

"I can't be right about everything." His attempt to sound impatiently wounded made her smile. "And, by the way, Jack, is there some reason why you just kissed my woman?" he added, eyes wide, rocking on his heels.

"Huh?" Jack looked stunned. And then he grinned. Broadly. "You mean you two finally did something about that thing that's been between you as long as I've known you? About damn time!"

"Might have." The Doctor grinned. "Anyway, don't mind me. You two carry on." And he winked, clicking his tongue at the same time, and leaned against the console rail, just watching them.

Bastard. He really was enjoying this too much.

He'd let her think that he had some new pretty young thing sharing his TARDIS. And all the time it'd been Jack. Jack, who he had to know - well, he'd known once she told him, if not before - she'd missed so much.

But still. Jack was here, and the three of them were together again. She could probably allow the Doctor his few minutes of amusement at her expense. Probably.

Especially since she was already planning ways to extract her revenge later.

***

He watched the two of them in their joy at being reunited, a glad smile on his face despite his mock irritation of a few minutes earlier. He'd deliberately not told Rose about Jack earlier, when she'd asked if he had anyone travelling with him, because he'd wanted to surprise her. And then...

He'd feel the guilt for some time that he'd contributed to her grief six years earlier. All unnecessarily, too. He could have set her mind at rest about Jack a long time ago.

She'd asked, of course, and he'd stonewalled. Of course he'd known Jack was alive, and he'd known what he was doing, too. And why he couldn't be with them. But what he'd known, and how he'd known it... a Time Lord thing. Something he hadn't wanted to have to explain to Rose. So he'd given her the smallest amount of information possible and expected her to accept it.

He'd forgotten - or hadn't wanted to recognise - how much she'd cared about Jack. Because it would've meant having to remember how the three of them had become a unit. Inseparable. Dependent on each other. Caring for each other. And he'd have had to admit how much he missed Jack himself. Just as he missed every companion who left, or who was forced away from him by circumstances.

It'd been easier to pretend to forget. To fail to mention Jack entirely, until the right time had come. And it hadn't come - not while Rose had still been with him.

Then, after she'd left, he'd spent two months missing her and feeling sorry for himself. Until he'd remembered that he owed the former Time Agent a rescue. That Jack needed a way off the Earth of 200,100 and that he owed it to the man not to leave him at the mercy of some passing time-traveller whose attention he might manage to attract.

So he'd gone, and found Jack - a weary, thinner, drained Jack, who desperately, he could see, needed some rest and recuperation. Reintroduced himself, and spent the next few hours trying to deflect the other man's anger and hurt. Finally, Jack had accepted his reasons for doing what he'd done and taken that first step back over the TARDIS threshold. And then had come the explanations about Rose: where she was, why she wasn't travelling with him any more.

He hadn't gone to get Jack with the thought in mind of picking up where they'd left off. It'd never occurred to him, anyway, that Jack might want to stay. When they'd met Jack, the ex-Time Agent had been at a very low point in his life. Once a courageous, clever soldier, he'd had his belief in himself and what he stood for ripped away from him with those two years of memories. Gradually, over the months he'd travelled in the TARDIS, he'd rediscovered his courage, his desire to do good and his sense that there was something worth believing in. By the time he'd gone off to die for the Earth on the Game Station, he'd become again the hero he'd always been underneath.

And, since then, he'd been a hero many times over. He'd rediscovered causes he could believe in. He'd found a purpose to his life, missing memories or not. And so it made sense that he'd want to be somewhere, somewhen, where he could make a difference. And all the Doctor had expected was to provide the transport. He'd intended simply to take Jack to whatever destination the other man wanted.

But Jack - and now he wondered whether the ex-Time Agent had done it because he'd sensed that he needed company - had said he needed some time to think about what he wanted to do, and asked if he could stick around for a few days. He hadn't really cared either way, and had agreed. Jack needed the break, too, he'd told himself. A few days to rest and heal and put the harrowing year he'd just had behind him.

Of course, they'd fallen into adventures, danger, excitement, and it had almost been like old times. Saving the universe and sometimes even getting home in time for tea. Except without Rose. And he'd remembered what it'd been like to have a friend. Someone he could regard as an equal, at least in some ways. There were still many, many ways in which he was far cleverer than Jack and always would be, but it'd been interesting to be challenged in ways he wasn't used to from companions. Not since Romana, really.

And so, after about a week, when Jack had started talking about it being time to move on, he'd laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder and just said, "Stay." And Jack had.

It had been difficult at times. Learning to be a team and to live together without Rose as the apex of their triangle. Missing her and being reminded of her all the time by each other's presence and memories of their shared past - because at no time before had they been together without her. But it had got easier.

Now, watching them, the truth dawned. In the same way that he'd never realised how much Rose loved Jack, he'd never understood how much Jack loved Rose, too.

Well, that was good.

He strolled over to pick up the electronic components which had fallen out of the box Jack had simply let go of when he'd seen Rose. Smothering a grin, he said, "You really should be more careful with this stuff, Captain. It doesn't grow on trees. Do you know how long it took me to find a reliable source of non-contemporary, high-speed, non-corrodable semi-conductors with down-scaled interconnect dimensions?"

Jack looked a bit sheepish. Rose, on the other hand, slipped out of their friend's arms and came to stand in front of him, hands on her hips. "High-speed semi-conductors? You wouldn't be talking about computer memory chips, Doctor, by any chance? Or mobile phone SIM cards?"

Busted. His superior expression slipped just a little. "Of course not! Well... maybe something like those. Similar principle. And, yeah, all right, maybe they look a little like `em too. Coincidence, that's all. Pure coincidence."

Rose bent and retrieved one of the static-proofed packages from the floor, where it had fallen out of the box. "This looks like computer memory to me, Doctor." She studied the transparent packaging. "PC133 SDRam. That stuff was already almost obsolete when I was first travellin' with you. An' you sent Jack where to get it?"

Definitely busted. How had Rose become that technologically knowledgeable?

"What?" Jack was now looking over her shoulder. "You mean this stuff's easily available on Earth?"

Rose shrugged. "Course. Go back to, say, 2005. Walk into any Dixons or PC World. You can pick it up off the shelf. Bit expensive there, though. Better off buying it online." And she grinned. "Can't completely blind me with science any more, Doctor. I went and got physics and chemistry A-levels while you were swannin' off around the universe. An' I taught myself all about computers, cause hardly anyone else at work seemed to know what to do when something went wrong."

Rassilon, he was proud of her. The three of them were going to make a brilliant team. Even better than before.

And then an elbow in his ribs made him splutter. "Next time you want a so-called rare electronic component, Doctor, you can get it yourself!"

"But, Jack, it was just a joke... Okay, okay, it wasn't funny. But, really, it was. Come on, it was hilarious. Wasn't it?"

***

Later, over a bottle or two of very nice wine, it was time for explanations and catching up. She gave Jack an abbreviated version of the past six years and the reasons why she'd left the Doctor, and he in turn explained what he'd been up to after they'd parted on Satellite Five.

It was a shock to realise that he'd been dead; an even bigger shock to find out that she had given him back his life. And, at that point, the Doctor took over the tale, finally telling her what had happened when she and the TARDIS had come back to the satellite. That she had saved his life and, as she'd concluded a long time ago, his ninth self had given his life to save her.

"The best of reasons," he told her when she looked at him questioningly, wondering whether he'd ever had any regrets or resented the fact that she'd put him in the position of having to die himself or see her die. "I've never had any regrets about that, Rose. Not ever."

And, with the hours she'd spent with his previous self earlier today still fresh in her mind, she had no doubt that that was true. He'd loved her in that body. He still loved her now.

Jack had been helping to rebuild the Earth after the Dalek massacre, just as the Doctor had told her all those years ago. For some highly complicated reason, something to do with the imperative of history and not interrupting the flow of time and dire consequences if Jack hadn't been there to do it - and the Doctor knowing this all along from the time he'd taken the Time Vortex from her - they'd had to abandon him, to leave him to get on with it.

It had been a hard year or so for him. And then he'd been with the Doctor for almost a year after that - so he was two years older than when she'd seen him last. He didn't look it, really, apart from one or two moments when he turned serious and she saw lines that hadn't been on his face before.

But those moments were rare. The rest of the time, he was still the Jack she'd known and loved. She studied him carefully at one point to be sure that he wasn't pretending - she knew all about pretending, after all. But he wasn't. Whatever bad times he'd been through were in the past. And the three of them were together again.

It had been nearly seven years for her since she'd seen Jack, and over six years since she'd seen the Doctor, yet her feelings for both of them - her love for both of them, in different ways yet equally strong - were the same as ever.

"So, what's next, Doctor?" Jack asked as he leaned over to refill their wine-glasses.

"How'd you fancy spending a couple of weeks in a completely brilliant, exciting, fascinating location?" the Doctor replied, a grin twitching at his lips.

"Sounds good. Where's that?"

"London, England. 2013."

***

It felt so strange to go off to work the next morning as if nothing had happened. Of course, it wasn't quite like normal; she didn't, as a rule, have a TARDIS parked in the living-room of her flat, and she didn't, as a rule, have a 900-odd-year-old Time Lord in her bed. Though he'd pronounced his TARDIS bedroom more comfortable and declared that they'd sleep there for the rest of their stay.

Jack and the Doctor were going to spend the day exploring, they'd told her over breakfast. Jack, it seemed, despite his widespread travelling, had never been to the early 2000s, and he was keen to see what he'd missed.

She'd told the two of them not to touch anything in the flat until she got back, though she was already resigned to coming home to find her satellite receiver jiggeried with in order to receive Qarisian television. Despite the fact that the Doctor could watch what he called the very best of classic filmmaking in the TARDIS, that'd never stopped him messing with her mum's satellite when they'd been around the old flat in the Powell Estates.

And, before she left, the Doctor demanded both her old phone and her new one. He stripped out his components from the old phone and installed them in the new one, then handed it back to her with a grin. "Just in case."

"What, in case you an' Jack get the urge to go travellin' to some far-off galaxy without me?"

"Not going to happen." He flashed her a grin. "But you never know when you might need a super-phone, do you? Best to be prepared, I always say."

She grinned back. "You? The expert at makin' it up as you go along?"

"Hey!" He looked wounded. "I do have plans. Well, sometimes. And are you saying that making it up as I go along isn't being prepared? Especially when I'm so very good at it." He grinned at her; she rolled her eyes at him and left.

Once in work, she called up a new Word document and typed out her resignation. And she IMed Sarah-Jane, asking her to meet for coffee as soon as she was free.

"You're looking very happy today," Sarah commented as soon as they'd collected their coffees and claimed a quiet corner table.

This was the moment she'd been nervous about all night. Sarah, after all, thought she'd done the right thing staying away from the Doctor all those years. She'd supplied the shoulder to cry on countless times. She was the one who'd sent her to the therapist, after all. How was she going to react to this?

But, steadily, calmly, she told Sarah what had happened. Not everything, but meeting the Ninth Doctor, that they'd talked, that he'd offered to take her back to the Tenth Doctor. And that she'd gone.

And Sarah nodded. "You're going to travel with him again, aren't you? I always knew you'd go back to him one day," she added as Rose nodded to confirm it.

"You don't think I shouldn't, do you?" Actually, what Sarah thought didn't matter. It was her decision and she had no regrets whatsoever about it. She was happier than she'd been in years. But Sarah was her friend, and she didn't want to lose her over this.

"I think you should do what makes you happy. And this clearly does." Sarah reached across and covered her hand. "He's not a bad man - well, alien. But then we never thought he was. He can just be... thoughtless. I could tell he loved you, though."

That made her smile. "Yeah." Then, more soberly, she added, "I know `s not going to be easy. Or happy ever after. But he's worth taking a risk for. He's so worth it."

Sarah nodded. "He is."

"He wants to see you," Rose added. That was the difficult bit. She knew how painful it had been for Sarah to say goodbye before. She'd warned the Doctor that Sarah might prefer not to see him again.

But she smiled. "I'd love to see him. Come for dinner. Wednesday do? And bring your Jack, too - with all you've said about him, I feel as if I know him already. I can't wait to meet him."

That could be interesting. Rose grinned. She just hoped Sarah was prepared for being the focus of attention of a very handsome younger man, because Jack was going to love her.

***

Dinner at Sarah-Jane's. It had the potential for great awkwardness. After all, a lot had happened, from her perspective, since their last meeting. She'd been Rose's greatest support and ally, after all. And Rose had told him that Sarah had been the most help in making her keep to her resolve not to call him. Clearly, his old friend thought he was bad for Rose.

But it wasn't like that at all. Sarah seemed genuinely pleased to see him again, and came to him instantly when he opened his arms in invitation. And it was good to see her again. She looked a little older - only to be expected - but still unmistakeably Sarah. Still wonderful.

K-9 still knew him. As soon as his control panel was initiated, the little dog ran in circles around the living-room, happily chirping, "Master!" Jack was enthralled, and needed no invitation to get down on his knees and examine the robot dog.

And dinner was fun. There was lively conversation throughout, and Jack flirted entertainingly with Sarah on and off all evening. Sarah, he could tell, was more amused than flattered, clearly assuming that Jack was just being polite to a woman old enough to be his... well, aunt, anyway. He wondered how she'd react if he tipped her off that, given the slightest encouragement, Jack would be very happy to leave him and Rose to go home alone.

After dinner, he forestalled Rose, who was about to help Sarah clear the dishes away. Sending her off with Jack to socialise with K-9, he followed Sarah into the kitchen.

"So, how have you been?" he asked her cheerfully as she took the crockery from him.

"Oh, fine. Fine. Really, it's been good," she added as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

He smiled. "It's really good to see you again. I know we said goodbye, but..."

"Well, we never imagined, did we, that Rose would end up working with me." She carried on loading the dishwasher, just glancing at him occasionally as she worked.

He leaned against the island counter. "I told Rose I didn't do this. Come back and visit, I mean."

She straightened and gave him a hard look. Obviously the friendliness was, to some extent, a veneer. "Then why are you here?"

He gave her one of his most persuasive smiles. "Well... We were here. You know. Silly not to, really. Rose was going to see you anyway, and I thought, why not?"

"What? Might as well look up the old hag while you're hanging around waiting for Rose? Since you've got nothing better to do?"

His smile slipped. "You know me - even this me - better than that, Sarah. I did want to see you. And if you're expecting me to tell you you're not an old hag... well, I said you know me, Sarah. Never been much for doing what's expected."

She sighed. "All right, yes, that was uncalled for. But, Doctor - "

No, he'd invited it with his comment that he didn't go back and see people. "I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Rose. And I wanted to see you. Y'see, I've come to the conclusion - well, Rose sort of made me realise it - that just because I know I'll outlive everyone I care for it's stupid, really, to behave as if people are already dead when they're still alive." He gave her a self-deprecating smile. "So, if it's all right with you, we'll look in on you again from time to time."

And this time she gave him a genuine smile. "I really would like that, Doctor. I was hoping Rose would stay in touch."

"We both will." And he meant it. No empty promises about it not really being goodbye; not this time. "We'll be coming back all the time to see Jackie and Howard. Silly not to drop in on you at the same time - and anyway, we want to. The offer's still open, by the way," he added, digging his hands deep into his pockets and tilting his head to one side. "You ever want another trip in the TARDIS, all you have to do is say."

She smiled, but shook her head. "And my answer's still the same. I'm too old for that now, Doctor."

"Aah, you're never too old! `Sides, who says we have to go somewhere dangerous? `S not as if I'm suggesting we go back to Metebelis Three, y'know. No human-eating spiders this time, I promise. Could go somewhere nice and safe and relaxing. There's New Earth, for starters..."

"Oh, yeah, where you and Rose ran into megalomaniac cat-nuns and a crazy woman with a psychograph? I think I'll stay put, thanks. I'm considering starting a support group for your former companions, you know."

He ignored that bit. "Aww, come on, where's your sense of adventure?" He laughed. "Jack would be very happy to protect you, you know."

She grinned at that. "I like your friend. He's very gallant."

"I'll tell him you said that. It'll probably wound him to the core." He sobered then. "The other reason I wanted to see you, Sarah, was to say I'm sorry."

She looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

He sighed, took his hands out of his pockets and walked over to her. Taking her by the shoulders, he said, "For leaving you. For not explaining that I couldn't come back. For letting you wait, thinking I was coming. It was cruel, and I'm sorry."

"Oh." And, for a moment, he thought he saw a tear come to her eyes. But she blinked, and then she was sunny and cheerful again. "All water under the bridge, Doctor. But it's still nice to hear it."

He studied her for a long moment, and then bent to brush a gentle kiss against her cheek. "Never change, Sarah. You're an amazing woman, and I'm so glad I know you."

***

Finally, she'd worked her notice and they were packing up her flat. The two weeks had just flown past in the end, and the three of them were leaving later tonight. They were all going out to dinner with her mum and Howard and Sarah-Jane, and they'd leave after that.

Her mum'd been very surprised to hear that the Doctor was back after all these years, but not at all surprised that she'd decided to leave with him again. She'd seemed sad at first, but then had shaken her head. "I always thought you never should've left `im, love. You were never happy without him."

"No," she admitted. "I tried, but it was never the same. I missed him so much. An' what we did together."

Her mum had hugged her. "Be happy, love. But be careful, too. Keep yourself safe." She'd hesitated, then added, "Keep each other safe. He needs lookin' after, too, for all he thinks he's this invincible Time Lord."

Now, with Jack's help, she was packing up the last of her things and moving them into the TARDIS. The flat was rented furnished, so she didn't have to worry about disposing of that, but the Doctor and Howard were taking electrical appliances and other stuff she didn't want over to Howard and Jackie's flat.

"How's it going?" Jack, who'd just taken some boxes into the TARDIS for her, came back into the bedroom, smiling.

She turned to grin back at him. "Just got to empty out this drawer - " She hesitated as her fingers brushed against something. It felt like paper. Pulling it out, she glanced at it. An envelope, with Jack's name written on it.

Oh. Of course.

She hesitated. It seemed strange to keep that letter now, but she couldn't quite bring herself to throw it away. Not after all the grief and love she'd poured into it. But what to...

She glanced behind at Jack. And then, on impulse, handed it to him.

He took it, glanced at her in puzzlement, but then tore it open and began to read. She turned away and carried on with emptying the drawer; although she'd taken the decision to let him read it, it was still a little embarrassing to remember what she'd written.

Then she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Rose." He'd never said her name quite like that before. Almost choked.

She looked around at him. Unbelievably, his eyes were shimmering. And, silently, he tugged her into his arms, embracing her tightly. She hugged him back as words and phrases from her letter came back to her, as she remembered the pain of believing he was dead.

He wasn't dead. He was alive and well and they were together again. The three of them were together.

"Jack." She pulled back a little and laid her palm against his cheek. " `S so good to have you back."

"It's great to be back, Rose." His voice was soft, and still with a note of emotion she'd never heard from him before. "Oh, and, by the way - " He smiled. "I love you too."

Yeah. She'd said that in her letter, though she'd never expected him to see it.

And suddenly he was kissing her. Warmly, affectionately, and once again not exactly chastely. But with emotion, too. Her letter really had moved him.

As his lips trailed from her mouth to her cheek, she noticed movement behind him. The Doctor. He was looking at the two of them in surprise.

Jack glanced around. Seeing the Doctor, he gave a rueful smile. "Oops." Then he held out a hand, and she could see her letter in it. "Take a look at this."

"Jack!" she protested, but it was too late. The Doctor, glasses on, was already reading.

And then - she'd forgotten what a speed-reader he was - he was walking towards them. Swift, sure steps. And he was enfolding both of them in his strong arms.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Sorry I didn't set you straight sooner, Rose. And sorry there was nothing I could do other than leave you, Jack."

"You didn't have a choice," Jack said, his voice still a little shaky.

"An' anyway, `s all okay now," she added.

"Yeah." The Doctor gazed at her, then at Jack, and then back at her. And then he kissed her, his arms still tight around the two of them.

"Hey, when do I get some of that?" Jack enquired, a grin spreading across his face and all signs of distress vanished.

"Some things about you never change, Captain, do they?" The Doctor gave a long-suffering sigh. But then he leaned across and pressed his lips to Jack's in a firm and, to her surprise and amusement, lingering kiss. It didn't look exactly chaste either, though whether that was Jack's doing or the Doctor's - or both - she couldn't tell.

She smiled at them both as they separated. "That looked nice."

Jack grinned. "It was."

The Doctor shook his head in mock despair, but hugged them both again. Then he dropped his arms and stepped away. "So. Time for the big farewell dinner, I think. And then... onward to yesterday and tomorrow and the end of the universe and everywhere in between." He spread his arms, grinning broadly.

"Everywhere," she echoed.

"And anywhere," Jack finished.

The Doctor extended a hand to each of them. "And the adventure starts right here."

"Can't wait." She took his hand and grinned up at him, turning her head to share the moment with Jack, completing the circle on the Doctor's other side. The three of them, the TARDIS and the universe.

Together.

END